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crack_van2010-09-10 02:30 pm
sandystarr88.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2010-09-10 02:30 pm
Entry tags:
He Was Always Better At Sleight of Hand by araceli_maura (Unrated, PG-13-ish)
Fandom: MARVEL UNIVERSE: IRON MAN MOVIEVERSE
Pairing: Tony/Pepper
Length: 2,646
Author on LJ: [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com]
Author Website: [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com]
Why this must be read:
This piece is a wonderful depiction of the dance that Tony and Pepper do around each other, it's unsaid and bittersweet and they're just waiting for someone to take the next step forward.
"Your appointment with Kerry Stinemates from US world news is at 2:15. Please don't be late this time, I've already re-scheduled with her a dozen times and you really have to change I can see straight through the holes in that shirt."
He laughs, low and the sound of it triggers something in Pepper's stomach that she ignores. Clears her throat and looks down at the clipboard in hand. She's always liked clipboards. Efficient, keep things steady in her palms. Keeps her hands busy.
"Right," he agrees and wipes his hands on a stray rag. When she crinkles her nose, up and flared out he smiles again, waves his hands in the air like a threat and Pepper shakes her head in warning, holds the clipboard just a little closer in anticipation. He comes after her and Pepper, despite herself and her four inch heels, turns sharply and runs, the underside of her shoes clicking madly around the workbench littered with wires and the cold metal of machinery.
He catches her eventually, as he always does and his hands pry the clipboard down and away toward her hips where the dirt of his fingers settle into the skin and she sighs.
She can hear the low murmur of his work radio behind her back and it does nothing to steady her hands. His mouth makes her insides jump and she can feel his breath on her nose, darting over the blush at her cheek and the gentle downward slope of her mouth.
She frowns, pulls a hand up to steady herself against his chest and pushes. Just a little. He gives, and she can feel the warmth of the arc generator at his chest just briefly before he pulls back, his smile still there but his eyes less crinkled in the corners.
He understands, as he always has and probably always will, that this is how she is. That this is the signal she gives, with her hands and the frown of her lips and the way her lashes dip against the shadows under her eyes. It's a warning, if slight, that she's not ready. That if he pushes now he'll push too far and no amount of regret or indecision would hold her back. That when she does accept, give in and finally catch his mouth against hers, that will be it. There will be no more fight, no more push-pull hesitation. And part of him, however small, understands the importance of it. Of the need to have that moment, wait for it even; conserve it like air.
And he can wait. Probably. For a little while longer, anyway.
He Was Always Better At Sleight of Hand
Pairing: Tony/Pepper
Length: 2,646
Author on LJ: [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com]
Author Website: [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com]
Why this must be read:
This piece is a wonderful depiction of the dance that Tony and Pepper do around each other, it's unsaid and bittersweet and they're just waiting for someone to take the next step forward.
"Your appointment with Kerry Stinemates from US world news is at 2:15. Please don't be late this time, I've already re-scheduled with her a dozen times and you really have to change I can see straight through the holes in that shirt."
He laughs, low and the sound of it triggers something in Pepper's stomach that she ignores. Clears her throat and looks down at the clipboard in hand. She's always liked clipboards. Efficient, keep things steady in her palms. Keeps her hands busy.
"Right," he agrees and wipes his hands on a stray rag. When she crinkles her nose, up and flared out he smiles again, waves his hands in the air like a threat and Pepper shakes her head in warning, holds the clipboard just a little closer in anticipation. He comes after her and Pepper, despite herself and her four inch heels, turns sharply and runs, the underside of her shoes clicking madly around the workbench littered with wires and the cold metal of machinery.
He catches her eventually, as he always does and his hands pry the clipboard down and away toward her hips where the dirt of his fingers settle into the skin and she sighs.
She can hear the low murmur of his work radio behind her back and it does nothing to steady her hands. His mouth makes her insides jump and she can feel his breath on her nose, darting over the blush at her cheek and the gentle downward slope of her mouth.
She frowns, pulls a hand up to steady herself against his chest and pushes. Just a little. He gives, and she can feel the warmth of the arc generator at his chest just briefly before he pulls back, his smile still there but his eyes less crinkled in the corners.
He understands, as he always has and probably always will, that this is how she is. That this is the signal she gives, with her hands and the frown of her lips and the way her lashes dip against the shadows under her eyes. It's a warning, if slight, that she's not ready. That if he pushes now he'll push too far and no amount of regret or indecision would hold her back. That when she does accept, give in and finally catch his mouth against hers, that will be it. There will be no more fight, no more push-pull hesitation. And part of him, however small, understands the importance of it. Of the need to have that moment, wait for it even; conserve it like air.
And he can wait. Probably. For a little while longer, anyway.
He Was Always Better At Sleight of Hand