Tony | Superman
"Been to Coffee yet?' he asked. "Is that like a religious thing? Worship at the altar of the bean?" He wore a wry grin--that showed just enough of his pearly whites that, in a cartoon, would no doubt sparkle. That grin, though, quickly was replaced with shock and a gasp as he felt the liquid splash against his tight blue shirt and onto his jeans. He hopped out of his stool and stood up -- a large path of liquid soaking into his shirt, clinging to his rippling abdomen.
Carefully, he pulled the shirt and gently wringed the shirt out to squeeze what remained of Tony's drink. "Well, that was cold," he managed, eyes wide as he let his shirt settle. But now, he was uncomfortably wet along his abdomen and his crotchal region--which he hoped wasn't too noticeable. "Relax," he said, "it was an accident." There wasn't much he could do at this point to dry his shirt off quickly. Heat vision would burn a hole and his freezing breath would just ice the shirt. A tornado spin in the building felt a little...ill-advised, so instead, he debated whether not he should head back to his place or just sit and...deal.