somethingwithturquoise | MHA #4; Saturday Afternoon [07/15].

To say that this week had been an off week felt like a bit of an understatement, and the fact that Summer didn't even think of this until she decided to do terrible things to eggs yesterday was a good indication of just how off it really was. But also, in a way, she'd had a week to sort of...process things and had a better understanding of where she was mentally, physically, spiritually, blah blah blah, so now it was just time to smooth out the rougher edges in the best way she knew how.

By making some pot brownies.

She considered trying to do something fancy with it, but since Stark would also be baking something (she was putting money down now on what color his baked goods would be), but decided to just stick with something nice and classic. And honestly? By the time she was pulling them out of the over, she was already feeling better than she had almost all week.

Whether that was from the catharsis of baking or some liberal taste-testing of the batter while she was working was impossible to determine for sure, but did it really matter anyway?

[[ expecting an alien, but open if anyone wants to @ her before he shows up, and, clearly, a little CW for recreational drug use ahoy ]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Oh, yeah?" asked Summer, unable to keep her grin down as she took a moment to just take in Stark's precarious angle, and to feel that little urge in the tip of fingers to just sort of touch things and consider what sort of things there were to be touch. "I bet I can think of something else that might be pretty comfortable to lay on, as good as my couch is for that kind of thing."

"Oh?"

Stark gave in and just let himself tip all the way on to his side and looked up at her.

"Where is that?"

Looking back down at Stark with her brows lifted, Summer took a moment to lift her hand to brush her fingers now against the top of his head before she shifted, pushing back against the arm of the couch and angling toward him a little, hands departed so she could open her arms invitingly.

"Just grab me one of your brownies on the way over," she said.

Stark grinned over at her from where he lay before sitting up enough to grab the entire container of strawberry brownies and move it to the other end of the coffee table.

"Then we won't have to get up again," he explained, holding out one brownie to her as he moved closer.

Her open arms were so very inviting.

"Now look who's got the good ideas," Summer said, looking terribly proud of both of them, as she took the brownie from Stark with a nod of her head. "Thank you," she said, going to take a little nibble from it before giving another slightly shift to make things hopefully slightly more comfortable for him when he did settle in. "I must be finally rubbing off on you."

"Maybe you're a good influence," Stark said, settling himself so he could lean against her with a very contented sigh.

"A good influence. Very good friend. Just... very good."

"Just very good?" asked Summer, through another bite of brownie, while her other, non-brownie'd hand found its way back to the top of Stark's head. "Whatever happened to best?"

"A very good friend," Stark repeated, closing his eye. "But my best friend. Maybe the best one I've ever had."

And Summer almost...almost made some wry comment on how that was probably a pretty low bar to clear, but she didn't, instead just letting off a soft sigh and closing her eyes, and...for a moment, just sort of forgot when they were talking about because those brownies were potent and definitely kicking in. So she just sort of dazed off with her fingers enjoying the feel of brushing over the back of his head.

What was it? Friends? Didn't matter, this was just nice, but she did, eventually, felt compelled to add, "I am a pretty good friend to have."

"I'm lucky to have you," Stark agreed. "I'm very lucky. All of your friends are but i...I think I'm the luckiest now."

Nobody else was here on this couch feeling very pleasantly relaxed, were they?

Well, possibly Pancakes, who at that point was passing by on her way to the kitchen for a drink of water and considered hopping up and filling in the corner of the couch previously occupied by Stark, but ultimately decided to continue on her way and mind her own business.

Or possibly plot for world domination. It was hard to tell, with cats.

And Summer, meanwhile,thought about telling Stark not to forget about that, but she knew he wouldn't, probably not even when she sometimes wished he would, and that was all just too complicated to want to deal with right now, so she just kept quiet and thought about how much she enjoyed the feel of his hair under her fingers for a while, with nothing but a soft hum of agreement for everything he'd said.

No, Stark wouldn't forget it.

It might have only been a few minutes or it could have been much longer when Stark finally spoke again.

"Summer?" he asked very softly and maybe a little drowsily. "Can I stay? Here, just like this?"

"Mmmm," Summer answered back, and it was meant to be a bit more of a confirmation than that, but that was all that left her in that moment, like the rest of it could just be implied, like she didn't even wanted to bother with the effort of words. She did think of maybe messing with him a little and telling him no, a thought that made her huff a little bit with a laugh, and then she thought of something that did manage to get a few words out of her.

"No," she said, following it up with a "Not quite like this" before he could start to worry or get paranoid about it. She shifted a little, so that her fingers could start fiddling with undoing the straps on his mask.

More comfortable, if he was going to be using her as a pillow and all, and it gave her fingers more room to roam.

"I shouldn't leave it off all night," Stark said, helpfully lifting his head so those buckles were more accessible.

"For now is...For now is good." He let out a soft sigh, closing his eye again at the touch of her fingers. "Very good. You're good. You're best."

"What happens if you leave it off for too long?" Summer asked, genuinely curious, because fucked if she knew how it worked, exactly. She appreciated him lifting his head to make it easier, but the straps might take her a bit longer than they might have, anyway, with that nice fuzzy disconnect between her hands and her brain that was starting to really kick in about now.

"It's draining," Stark said, turning a little into her touch. "If I don't keep covered for too long. More if I'm not ready. But I am. And I'm relaxed. That helps. Your brownies are relaxing. So are you."

"Not for too long, then," Summer agreed, finally getting the straps and gently pulling the mask away from Stark's face. "Just a little bit. I like getting to touch your whole face."

And a hand cupped around the newly revealed cheek as if to prove it, and she grinned.

"Besides," she added, "if we're doing anything that leaves you drained,I can think of much better options."

What.

Stark leaned his face (what there was on that side) into her hand and opened his eye to smile at her.

"I can think of some too," he said, reaching up to cover her hand with his own. "You have very good ideas. But right now...right now I'm happy right here. Like this."

"Me, too," said Summer, with her thumb lightly brushing against Stark's cheek.

Just ignore that fact that, a moment later, she was going to be leaning in to kiss him, anyway.

Stark would have asked if she was thinking about kissing him right now but he didn't get the chance. Another time.

Right now he was going to lean up just a little to return that kiss very happily. A very slow, lazy kiss. It was that kind of day.

MHA #4; Saturday Afternoon [07/15].

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject