While Tony understood the delicate art of sculpting perfection in the mirror, he had a lot less patience for other people's neuroses than he did for his own, because his were warranted and everyone else's were unnecessarily time consuming. Wanda, for example, looked edible when he had walked in here. That was a decade ago, and she still looked pretty much the same but with less bra showing, which was a step backwards in his learned opinion. Despite his impatience and the likely mounting cause of annoyance he was becoming to entertain himself behind Wanda, he wasn't just going to go off to weird kid's weird dinner party on his own. That wasn't safe. That was existential disaster waiting to happen. That was Tony sitting uncomfortably on a strange couch with teenagers from the multiverse questioning the choices that led him to that moment.
No, he really did have to wait. Which wasn't that much of a problem for him, because that meant less time that had to be spent coming up with cocktail hour conversation.
Entertaining himself behind Wanda mostly meant watching her raptly for the first few seconds, then becoming fascinated with progressively more privately stored toiletries as the time went on. First, it was the assortment of perfumes and hair products on the counter, and soaps molded into unnecessary shapes, which all amounted to a whole psychological analysis based on smell the way he went through them and shot Wanda contemplative looks. Then he found his first drawer, then the second, and the general concept of personal space was disregarded somewhere along the way. What possible use could a tiny pot shaped like a teddy bear have? Oh, lipgloss, how foolish of him.
When Wanda had her little tantrum, Tony just raised his eyebrows at her, carefully sliding a drawer closed before she turned that wrath on him. Of course, he had to take control of this situation, splaying his hands to tell her not to worry before coaxing her fingers from her mouth and flicking the cold tap on for them instead. While she did that, he comber her hair back away from her face and over her shoulders with his fingers, sweeping her bangs to the side and locking it all in place with a wide, elegant headband he seemed to have discovered some time ago in the treasures of Wanda's vanity.
Water off, hands folded together between his like they were to share a prayer, Tony's eyes wide and pleading, "You're done now." Sounding definitive regularly worked in the boardroom and rarely worked with women, but Tony was willing to try. If she was Ru, she'd call him names for thinking she could leave the house yet and not being attentive enough to note that she still needed mascara. If she was Raven--