somethingwithturquoise | MHA #4; Saturday Morning [02/11].

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MHA #4; Saturday Morning [02/11].

It was, truly, one of the great tragedies of the world that here Summer had won this absolutely magnificent dildo at the party last night, and she didn't even get a chance to use it yet. Something about coming home to an exceptionally clingy koala giving you sad eyes for having cruelly abandoned him for a few hours really, really was a mood killer.

But today marked a week since Stark had turned into a koala, so Summer had draped him in a robe that was far too big for him in his current state, but she assured him, he'd be grateful for it later, they both would, because they were entering that time period where these things tended to run out. And then she mostly went about her morning, feeding him a few eucalyptus chips, making herself some coffee, and heading over to the couch to drink it as carefully as she could with a clinging koala and check her phone.

And she couldn't quite pinpoint whether she was more disappointed or unsurprised by a lack of messages. Well. A lack of messages from one very specific number, anyway, she always had messages, but she'd been kind of hoping she'd have one from Barry, especially after the sort-of argument they'd had last night before the party. An argument she realized might have been wholly one-sided, because 'tone-deaf', especially when it came to texts, was sort of par for the course with him. He probably hadn't realized she'd been upset. So she sighed, staring at her phone for a while, trying to think of what time it was in Ethiopia right now, and then realizing, fuck it, it didn't matter, it's not like the guy ever slept, anyway.

So she huffed out a bolstering sigh, and finally just bit the bullet to text him back first with a little 'hey', and waited to see where that would take her.

[[ mostly for that koala, but can be open before his thread in the timeline! ]]

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Koalas just liked clinging to things, ok? And sometimes clinging to people. Even when dressed in a fancy oversized robe. Maybe especially when dressed in the fancy oversized robe? It wasn't like this koala's stylist had ever led him astray when it came to fashion. Maybe he wanted her to know that he appreciated the robe!

In any case, this particular koala was very content right where he was on the couch and holding on to Summer's side. That way she could still get her coffee and her phone! He was being helpful, or maybe he just liked this position.

It certainly beat having a koala climbing all over her, Summer would give him that. It was unobtrusive enough that Summer, especially distracted as she was by her phone and her flying fingers over her texts and the occasional gulps of coffee in between, actually barely noticed Stark was even there, until he shifted or readjusted his constant hold on her and gave her a very unavoidable reminder.

And then Pancakes jumped up on the other side of her, looking at Summer and meowing plaintively before looking across her lap over at Stark with a coolly disapproving look.

Idly, Summer moved one hand to put the cat on the head. "Chill out, 'Cakes," she said. "You still have, like, an hour before food time."

Which now meant that Pancakes' next meow was doubly disapproving.

Poor Pancakes was cruelly being starved and Stark the koala held out a little bit of eucalyptus just in case that would help. Was he trying to lull the cat into a false sense of security so he could try clinging to her? Probably not. He just had some eucalyptus chips in one fuzzy hand still.

Did this result in a fuzzy koala head resting dangerously close to Summer's chest? Maybe. But he was a koala right now so what did Stark care?

"No, Stark," said Summer, trying to shift away from the fuzzy ears brushing against her boobs right now while also trying to get that eucalyptus leaf out of his hand and trying to push Pancakes away from leaning over her lap to sniff at it, while her phone in the hand trying to keep her away chimed with a message that she tilted her head and tried to read, all at the same time. "Eucalyptus isn't good for cats. You're literally trying to poison my cat right now."

Stark would never!

He would, however, shove that eucalyptus in his little koala mouth and then resume double-armed clinging around Summer's midsection. Maybe even settling in with a contented little koala sigh.

WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG?

"Thank you," said Summer, not so much for the clinging, obviously, but for the fact that worrying about her cat dying from Stark's misguided generosity was no longer something she needed to worry about. The clinging only managed to inspire one of many, many sighs that had become a familiar background to her life that week.

"You know what?" she decided, leaning back on the couch in defeat, as Stark clung and Pancakes put her paws on her knee to pull herself up better to meow in protest of the cruel injustice of being denied food at all times. Her eyes shifted over toward the koala. "Maybe we will make a little trip to the fire station today..."

She was well aware that it was definitely getting to be about that time, where any moment now, Stark was going to turn back into Stark. Either that, or they were in this for an even longer haul, and her patience with koala-sitting was growing thin...

Any moment now, you say? Like perhaps right after a currently koala-shaped alien decided to shift position so he was closer to being on Summer's lap than he was to just clinging to her side?

Right about then? Or now, as the case may be, so Summer suddenly had a clinging alien with pressed up against her in a suddenly no longer oversized robe but rather one that was just the slightest bit too short to serve its intended purpose?

Oops.

Pancakes' meows of disapproval with not being fed at all hours of the day very quickly turned into a yowl of irritation at having the adorable fuzzy koala that she could definitely take on in a fight replaced with a much larger man that was...

Well, she probably could still take him in a fight, but she would be much more reluctant to risk it, despite the fact that she at least threw in a quick swipe of her claws at him before hopping off the couch and retreating, an ability that Summer was going to desperately wish she had at that moment.

Erm, the retreating. Not the clawing.

She was going to give out a sharp, reprimanding "Pancakes, no!" before the reality of the situation really clicked into her head and she had a lapful of Stark and oh god, she should have gotten a longer robe for him.

"God dammit."

Would it be rude? Mean? Cruel? To just....shove him off her lap? It would probably be pretty rude, mean, and cruel, especially since she'd be shoving him right into the coffee table, but, so help her, she was thinking about it....

Stark would probably stammer out an apology for being partially naked in Summer's lap eventually. Eventually. First he was going to freeze because how had he gotten here? And he was oddly reluctant to move away for a very brief moment.

After that brief moment of wanting to stay exactly where he was had passed, Stark let out a very undignified noise that might have been called a squeak and quickly pushed himself sideways (sorry about where his hands might have gone during that moment, Summer) so he was at least no longer in Summer's lap.

Being partially unclothed, and suddenly maskless, and right next to her in a too-short robe was better, right?

Well, partially unclothed was still better than completely unclothed, so even though she wish she'd have done a better job of calculating just how much robe they'd need, Summer was pretty glad for at least that fact.

Or, at least, she would be, if she wasn't too busy fending off scrambling hands in a vain attempt to deflect anything making this more awkward than it already was, and then wincing as she caved around a shove to the side of her breast and thinking that, see, if only her boobs were bigger, that would have meant more padding.

"You could have just said excuse me," she groused, "you know."

And she should have pushed him off after all.

"I'm sorry. I didn't...I didn't mean to...I...I'm...I'm sorry!"

Stark was very sorry for touching anything he shouldn't have and very sorry for being partially unclothed and very sorry for any number of things.

Stark was also desperately trying to look anywhere in the room besides at Summer. Maybe his mask was here! That would help!

"It's okay!" Summer insisted, finding that facepalming was not only great for expressing one's frustration, but also handy in shielding one's eyes. "It's fine. It's..."

Summer brain was trying to cycle through reactions right now, and solutions, to help prevent more flailing and awkwardness, which shouldn't be this difficult, she'd run through this scenario several times in her head before, but, of course, in the moment, a lot of that went flying right out the window, but if she focused on something other than her aching boob and the flailing alien, then maybe she could...

"Oh, shit!" she realized, bolting up from the couch. "That's right, you're mask! Hold on!"

Now to just remember where she put it, because, of course she had one around here somewhere, for when he did turn back, but now she just had to remember where she'd put it.

If anything, though, it did work nicely as a good excuse to get up and move away from Stark right now.

"It's not okay! I'm here and where did the robe come from and it's..." It was too short and wasn't hiding what it ought to and so Stark had back himself up into a corner of the couch and curled in on himself in an attempt to shield himself (and Summer, honestly).

"It's not okay," he said again and then his eye landed on Summer's door prize from last night and widened considerably. Which was impressive given he was already in a wide-eyed panicked state.

"That's...Oh."

"God," said Summer, sighing heavily with a roll of her eyes, especially now that the initial panic had passed and her practicality was stepping in, "do you have to be so dramatic about it? Like you've never turned back into yourself around me before."

She huffed out a sigh and, trying to remember where she put a mask, launched into what she hoped would me a nice, reasonable breakdown.

"You're fine," she insisted, "and it's better you're here than somewhere else, like somewhere public, be glad you're here, and I gave you that robe so you'd be wearing at least something. It is okay. It's...."

Summer blinked, realizing where the mask was, which was almost literally right under her nose on the coffee table.

"Oh, here it is."

Right next to the dildo, of course. Because, look, it had been a long day yesterday and sometimes, your coffee table was just a dumping ground for your shit when you walked through the door, her keys, her purse, one of her heels, were all on there, too.

She handed it over, and, since she knew he wouldn't be looking at her and therefor probably wouldn't see it, she added, "Mask."

"I didn't mean to," Stark said. Mean to turn back or mean to be dramatic? Probably both. Probably he'd not meant to do other things as well.

"I'm glad I'm here," he managed to say after that before realizing how it might sound. "Not...no, I mean...thankyouforthemask."

He was just going to reach for that and continue staring at last night's impressive dildo. It wasn't every day that was one of the first things you saw after turning back to yourself. Especially in the middle of a friend's coffee table.

Summer was going to do her best to guide that mask safely into Stark's outstretched hand, but of course she was also going to be curious about what had apparently become Stark new focus through this whole ordeal.

...

Oh, there were going to be so many sighs today, weren't there?

"God dammit."

A lot of those, too.

"I should probably go put that away," she decided, and went to snatch it up off the coffee table and do exactly that, which meant she could disappear into the bedroom and Stark could hopefully get his shit together.

So many sighs.

Stark stared after her for a moment because it was safe to look at where Summer had just been. It was less safe to think about what she'd been carrying and where she might be taking it and how many other similar items might be tucked away somewhere. That was not safe at all and he needed to stop it right this instant and put his mask on instead.

Once the mask was back on he decided the best thing to do was remove the robe entirely so he could wrap it around his waist instead. Which, of course, meant he was going to have to stand up and be entirely naked for a moment before the robe was safely covering what it ought to. And since he'd stopped looking in the direction where Summer had gone he wouldn't know when she'd come back and so he wouldn't know if he needed to hurry up more than he was.

Hahaha, please. Like Summer was that dumb.

Stark would be greeted with Summer's voice calling from the bedroom well before he was going to be greeted with having to avoid the sight of her again.

"Do you want, like, pants, or something?"

"Your pants aren't going to fit me," Stark said.

Which Summer knew very well and Stark knew that Summer knew it and he really shouldn't be thinking about why and how Summer knew that.

"I have the robe. I can run upstairs. Quickly."

So quickly. But sorry/you're welcome to anyone he might run into?

"I meant, like, the big baggy ones I wear when I'm on my period!" Summer shouted back, because, fuck it, it's not like Stark could get more awkward, right? "Or, like, a pair of Barry's. But I mean, if you're good, then you're good! Don't let the door hit your ass on the way out!"

Look, the sooner he got out, the sooner he could get dressed and not have to worry about not looking at things, and the sooner she could go back to having some sort of a semblance of her normal life again.

Would they be pink and say something awkward on the back, perhaps in glittery letters? Because then Stark should 100% borrow some.

"I don't want to be in Barry's pants!"
PHRASING.

"But pants might be a good idea. What if there are people on the stairs?" People who wouldn't enjoy the view. Or might enjoy the view too much?

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MHA #4; Saturday Morning [02/11].

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