somethingwithturquoise | MHA #4; Sunday Morning [08/13].

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MHA #4; Sunday Morning [08/13].

So. Yesterday had been a whole thing, huh? The last couple of weeks, really, had been, more so in the last few days, but clearly, in the aftermath of everything that had gone down, yesterday definitely stuck out, and Summer hadn't even really talk with Stark too much about what all had happened. But it was pretty clear, from the moment she found him waiting for her at her door, and even just the way he'd kissed her, that this was going to require some tenderness and delicacy that she didn't really feel came naturally to her, but she was clearly willing to give it a try.

So they didn't really talk and they just sort of held each other until they fell asleep there on the couch, and then moved over to the bedroom once Stark had woken up startled and screaming, and there was one more instance of that once they'd relocated, too.

So Summer was yawning and tired and looking forward to come coffee when she woke up that morning, this time without any shouting or nightmares pulling her out of it, and carefully slipped out of bed to let Stark sleep some more while she went into the kitchen to start digging around and seeing what she might have for making breakfast. She wanted to make a nice big breakfast, too, eggs, pancakes, potatoes, sausage, the shebang, since, in what little they did talk about, he'd mentioned only having food cubes for the past few days. And she knew that, when Stark eventually did wake up and she wasn't there, he was probably going to panic a little, but she felt that was important, too. He'd panic, but then he'd realize where he was, and that everything was fine, and come to that conclusion on his own, without having to lean on her entirely, like a crutch.

So she was making breakfast. And she was chugging coffee almost as fast as she could make it. And she was occasionally checking out some of her scratches to make sure none of them were getting, like, gross or infected or anything. And she was thinking about some stuff between pancake flips and cracking eggs.

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Stark did panic, a little, when he woke back up. But he recognized where he was after a minute and Summer's bedroom hadn't featured in anything the House had done and he managed not to cry out.

He did let out a quiet "Summer?" before rolling out of the bed and pulling the robe back around himself. Another, slightly louder "Summer?" as he walked out of the bedroom.

"You're cooking," he said, relieved, as entered the kitchen. "It smells..." Like real food. Like comfort. "It smells very good."

"Yeah, well," Summer pointed out, "I'm making it, so, you know...proceed with caution."

It was fine. It was all the usual standard fare, nothing was gross, but it never hurt to install a little reminder to promote a healthy amount of skepticism and paranoia.

She gave him a little smile from in front of the stove. "Hungry?"

"It doesn't smell dangerous," Stark said, smiling back softly. "No lime jello in the eggs?"

"And yes," he said, stepping closer. "Very hungry. Thank you. For...letting me stay. And for this."

Summer rolled her eyes over at Stark a little, at the whole notion that letting him stay, as if it wasn't almost entirely her idea and something she'd have insisted on if it had met any objection, was anything remarkable or requiring a thank you at this point. But that was the most that she was going to acknowledge it, turning her attention back to the food.

"If there is," she said, "I can't tell you; it's a surprise. But let me just finish up these eggs and pancakes and we can eat, okay? There's also...a little coffee left."

Stark nodded and headed for the coffee to doctor a mug of it for himself. "Coffee is good. I haven't had any coffee. Or any anything, really. Did you sleep? I'm sorry. For waking you."

Repeatedly.

"But it was good knowing you were here."

"I slept," Summer assured him, with a nod. Not as well as she normally would have, but, hey, you know, given the circumstances. "And it's okay. You couldn't really help it. I'm just glad you were able to get some sleep, too. Pretty sure between the two of us, you're the one who needed it more, anyway."

"But you're hurt," Stark protested weakly. "You need to rest."

And she was hurt because she'd been trying to find him and the feelings that inspired were overwhelming. Not that they hadn't been already.

"It helped though, to have you there. I did sleep some. Better than I would have alone. I didn't want to be alone."

He still didn't. Not yet.

"Please," Summer said dismissively. "A few bruises, a couple scratches, they're practically already healed over."

She added the last pancake to the stack and finished giving the scrambled eggs a little stir before turning off the burners and hunting down some plates.

"It probably wouldn't be a terrible idea to add a rabies test to the To-Do list, though," she had to admit, after a moment.

"There are shots for that," Stark said quickly. "More than one shot you have to get. It's a good idea. We have them at the clinic. A lot of people had to get them last year when the raccoons took me."

Maybe the raccoon colony had had all their shots by now though?

"I don't want you to be sick. I'll be there tomorrow, at the clinic? Or we could go today and see the nurses..."

Staying here in this apartment and ignoring the outside world sounded so much better though. Although at some point it was going to occur to Stark that everyone else should be checked on.

"Should we go sit and eat? Where? Do you need anything else?"

"I'm not really sure I feel like going out and doing anything today," Summer admitted, "but I guess if I start convulsing and foaming at the mouth, we'll know better next time."

Yes, she knew that was not reassuring, so, for Stark's benefit, she added, "Kidding, Stark. I'm sure it's fine."

Besides, there was now food and a plate being held out to him.

"And I think we're good. Unless you need anything else."

Stark wasn't quite in the mood for jokes about horrible illnesses but he managed a small smile anyway as he took the plate.

"I have everything I need for now," he said. "Thank you. Couch, or table? And I don't want to go anywhere either. Although I could find clothes, later, maybe. Or just stay in the robe. I like the robe."

Sorry, Stark, levity was just what kept Summer going more often than not, but the resigned nature of her response was duly noted.

"I can go up and get some for you later, if you want," she offered, "so you can just stay here and relax. And I say couch. Table feels too....formal."

And her couch was great against stains, that's why she'd bought it!

"Your couch," Stark said, heading that way, "is one of my very favorite places to be."

For a number of reasons. Maybe the couch was a good place to talk, after they ate. Eating was more important now and he had a bite of eggs in his mouth as soon as he sat down on what was his regular end of the couch followed immediately by some pancake. The small, happy noise he made was involuntary.

"It is a good couch," Summer agreed, and, involuntary or not, the little happy noise put a small, pleased smile on her face as she settled into her usual end of the couch as well, tucking her legs underneath her as she started digging into the food. Pancakes wound herself around from behind the couch with her nose in the air, sniffing it to see if what had been brought over was anything she might be interested in. And Summer briefly thought of wondering outloud if it would be considered some kind of cannibalism if she were to give her cat some of her pancakes, but remembering how little fanfare the rabies comments got, she kept it to herself.

She did, however, break off a small bit of bacon to hand down to Pancakes, who sniffed a little before deeming it an acceptable tribute and taking it and padding off elsewhere to enjoy it in peace.

"Good?" she asked, although she already knew the answer, getting back to feeding herself rather than begging animals.

Cannibalism commentary would have gotten a bigger smile but a closed-mouth one because Stark was very busy shoveling food into his mouth.

"Very good," he managed between bites. "Very good. I was hungry." Hungrier than he'd let on but last night he hadn't wanted anything more than to just be close to Summer. Food could wait and food had waited. "Thank you."

"I made a lot, too," Summer informed him importantly, "so, you know, help yourself, there's plenty, and, like....no need to rush it."

Maybe a slightly goading hint there, but she was getting flashbacks of when Pancakes ate too quickly so that, ten minutes later, it all just came right back up again.

Stark looked at her a little guiltily.

"Sorry. I didn't realize I was so hungry," he said. "I think I just...tried not to think about and then it wasn't so important as other things." Like getting here and finding Summer, for example.

"But it's very good and I...think I needed it." There wasn't much left on his plate, really, but he slowed down now anyway.

"Yeah," said Summer, "food is generally something that people need."

Her own progress on her place was, clearly, slower, but it might have been a little slower than even a more natural clip, because of the time she was spending less on chewing and more on just watching Stark a little protectively. Speculatively. Maybe trying to anticipate the next need to be met before even he got there.

"It helps," Stark told, looking back at her. "Food and being here and you. You're helping. Thank you."

He'd uttered so many thank yous already. There would probably be more.

"It was...nearly everything I try not to think about, all at once."

Summer returned Stark's look at her back at him, up until the fifty-millionth thank you, at which point she dropped her gaze toward her plate under the pretense of forking up some hashbrowns.

And she thought about all things that she knew of that Stark tried not to think about, and all the things she didn't know of.

"That sounds terrible..."

And that sounded like a pretty pathetic understatement.

"It was," he said, looking down at his plate and picking up a piece of bacon. "But it's not now and it wasn't real. Not this time." If he repeated that enough it would probably sink in.

"I was trapped and I couldn't get where I needed to go and there were locked doors and cages and..."

And that was only the beginning.

"You don't have to talk about it, Stark," Summer said, wedging it in there after he'd trailed off. "I mean, unless you want to, then I'll listen, obviously, you know I will, but I don't think anyone would blame you for not wanting to rehash a bunch of it, either. Or maybe it'll be cathartic. I don't know."

"I don't know either," Stark admitted, poking at the last bite of pancake on his plate.

"I thought you were there once." Maybe more than once. "I couldn't get to you but I could hear you and I tried but the doors kept closing and I thought..."

Summer was going to do her best to ignore the fact that the little furrow between her brows was definitely sparked by the fact that her first thought, in response to that, was just only once?.

"...that something had happened to me?" she guessed, as her next fill-in-the-trailed-off-statement.

"I thought you were gone," Stark said miserably. "And I was too late. Again. Because I couldn't be there when I needed to be. And then later I thought maybe you were trapped in there and I thought I might never get to you."

He took a deep breath and set his plate down. "And I was frightened. Of that. And of everything else but that hurt."

Well, if there was anything to make Summer feel instantly back about her petty little so not just once wave of relief at that first part, it was definitely that second part.

"Oh, Stark," she said, partly because she almost didn't know what else to say, but, looking over at him, she at least knew what to do, and that was to set aside her own plate (not yet finished, but whatever) so she could free her hands and scoot forward a little and reach for his hands.

"It's okay, though," she said. "It wasn't real, and everything's fine. I'm fine. And you're going to be fine. It's okay."

Stark took her hands gently, carefully.

"You're fine," he repeated. "And I will be. And...I...I want to tell you something else. Can I tell you something else?"

This couch as a good place to say it. Perhaps he could have chosen something to wear that felt less vulnerable but maybe this was better anyway.

The concerned, worried frown on Summer's face grew deeper, but she also scooted forward a little closer, wondering if she could even begin to fathom what gruesome or terrible thing he was going to disclose to her next.

"Yeah, of course," she said. "What is it?"

If Summer thought it was gruesome or terrible Stark was going to have to throw himself into the sea.

"Are you sure?" he asked, holding her gaze. "It's...I don't know if you want to hear it but I want to say it. I need to say it."

If he didn't say it now he might not work up the courage again but maybe he'd already lost some of that courage. He dropped his head a little and looked at their joined hands.

"I was frightened of losing you. I said that. Frightened that you were already lost. That you were gone. And it hurt and it hurt because...I know what you've said and I've listened, I promise I have, and I've tried..."

He was starting to babble and he didn't want to do that. He wanted to say what he had to say properly.

"I just..." Stark closed his eye, took a breath, and looked up, trying to meet her eyes again. "I...I love you, Summer. And you don't have to feel the same and it doesn't have to change anything and it doesn't have to make anything serious I just...love you. And I have and you should know that and I thought I might never get to tell you so I needed to."

He let go of her hands then and watched her carefully. Nervously. Hopefully.

Edited 2023-08-13 21:49 (UTC)

Rest assured, there'd be no need for anyone to go throwing themselves into the sea today. Or, well, not for that reason, anyway, because Summer found this neither gruesome nor terrible.

And Stark would have no trouble catching her eyes when he looked up, because they were intently on him as she tried to follow him on his journey in working it all out, although she'd admit, she was tempted to maybe comically check her watch about half-way through.

She didn't, though, she just listened and waited for him to get through it, and once he finally did, she blinked, and couldn't help herself from smirking, just a little.

As far as confessions of love went, on her couch in a fluffy pink robe over breakfast after a couple of days of being trapped in a torture house felt like a little bit of a step up from on accident after discovering you went on a date to your grampa's secret toilet planet, but it wasn't quite as good a story to tell the grandkids.

Neither had involved being presented with the decapitated heads and still-beating hearts of her enemies, but, while it had felt very romantic at the tie, Hemorrhage should not be held up as an aspiration for anything.

"Yeah, Stark," she said, taking his hand again with hers because she had a feeling he was going to want that back in a second, and hitting him an obvious look, like he'd just told her water was wet. "I know you do. I love you, too."

If it helped, he'd wanted to say it for a long time but the torture house had made him feel that he had to in case he never had the chance again.

"You do?" Stark asked, looking briefly stunned. "But I thought... you said nothing serious and I've tried but I love you and I don't want to stop."

Maybe he should stop talking. Maybe he should just use that hand to pull Summer closer and try and kiss her even more fiercely than he had outside the door last night.

"Of course I do," Summer started to answer, "do you think--"

And then, next thing she knew, she was being pulled in for a kiss, which, first of all, don't ask someone something, Stark, and then kiss them before they could answer, because rude. But also,like, second of all...

...it was fine, because even just shades of that desperation from last night's kiss was enough to pull her over to not caring about anything else. In fact, she was just going to go ahead and make this easier and less awkward for the both of them by crawling up onto Stark, strattling his lap and cradling his face in her hands, to return the kiss better and in kind.

Stark could be a little rude, as a treat?

"I love you," he breathed out, pulling back just enough to repeat that.

Could he prove it with kisses? He was going to try. Kisses and a hand in her hair and the other behind her back to support her.

She'd said it back and that was more than he'd dared hope for.

She had said it back, and now Summer was also kissing Stark back with as much fervor as he was giving, until she pulled back a little. Her hands stayed on his face, and she bit her lower lip as she looked at him, eyes bright from the rush and thrill of it.

"How long have you been wanting to say that?"

Inquiring egos needed to know!

"Too long," Stark told her.

It was an echo of another time on this couch. Months ago when all this had really started.

"A long time. I've known for a long time. But I didn't want to, to ruin anything. But... months." At least.

"And you?" He wasn't sure he wanted to know but maybe this was a time for honesty. It seemed like it was and she was looking at him like that and she was on his lap and everything was right for the moment.

Edited 2023-08-14 01:01 (UTC)

"I don't know," Summer admitted, with a small shrug of her shoulder and her smile gone a little apologetic. "I don't really think about it as much as you do."

Nobody thought about most things as much as Stark did.

"I just know that I do."

"But you do," Stark said, reaching up for her hand as he turned his head to kiss her palm. "And I do. I don't need to think about that."

He thought too much about everything. He knew that. He'd thought too much about saying this but feeling it had just happened.

"And it doesn't matter how long. That you do at all is...it's amazing. Wonderful. You're wonderful."

"Well, I mean," said Summer, in another echo of that other time on this couch, "just don't be, you know, weird about it, or anything."

Which wasn't to say the he was being weird about it now. Now was great. Rare were the moments indeed where Summer would have an issue with someone calling her wonderful, especially in the context of her being on top of them and they were kissing her.

"I don't want to be weird about it," Stark told her. "I just want to be."

Of course, he was weird often so it might be an issue but he was going to try his best.

"I'll try. You know I will." Unless she wanted him to get weird. He would be fine with that. Not right now though. Right now he was going kiss her again like his life depended on it.

Yeah, there was nothing weird about that, and you'd hear no complaints from Summer about getting back to kissing.

Especially since that meant her mouth was busy with doing much better things, and her hands were sliding around to the back of Stark's neck, and her hips shifted to bring herself up even closer against him.

Stark let out a quiet groan and he nipped at her lower lip.

His hand slid to her waist to give a tug at the belt of her robe. Not enough to remove it. Just a hint. A reminder that they were both clad in easily removable robes. Not that a reminder was really needed.

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MHA #4; Sunday Morning [08/13].

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