f (foundling) wrote in rooms, @ 2014-05-08 22:54:00 |
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Entry tags: | !marvel comics, *log, steve rogers, tony stark |
log, Stark Tower: Tony S/Steve R
Who: Tony Stark & Steve Rogers
What: talking.
Where: Stark Tower; outside Steve's rooms
When: after this.
Warnings/Rating: TBD
It wasn't nice out—it wasn't cool, but rather humid, hot and exhausting, strange weather for May, to be sure—but after the plea to Avengers, old and new, past and future alike, Steve didn't feel like sitting around Stark Tower. He didn't want to be idling. His mind was moving too quickly, his thoughts pinballing (that's right, he knew the word) from Tony, to Banner, to James and Torunn, to the imminent arrival of Loki, to Sharon. It was too much, and he didn't like to sit and fuss. Back in the old days, he might have gone out to kick a can, he might have run into a bully or two. But now, he just ran. The man shrugged into a white t-shirt (was every single one going to be this small?) and shorts. He left everything else behind—his phone, his wallet. He took to Central Park in heavy-bottomed running shoes—or, more accurately, took to several laps of Central Park, to work the conflicted feelings out of his system just before the sun set. He tried to set the wires in his nerves straight, to pound out the kinks in copper. But there wasn't enough time. If Banner really was going to make dinner tonight, he didn't want to be late (if he could have, he would have run through the night). Just as the floating bulbs of streetlights flickered on the the impending darkness like manmade moons, Steve made his way back to the Tower. He'd hardly broken a sweat throughout the whole thing, though blond strands of his bangs had broken loose, and clung to his forehead as he stood in the elevator, hands on his knees, body bend in half. He breathed through his nose and out his mouth. As the doors slid open, they found Steve upright again. He didn't notice himself that he was clenching his jaw, tension and disappointment bound into one between the fiber of muscles, but it didn't matter now. He would go shower and he'd find something else to do to forget the mess everything had become since his arrival. |