[Nightlight]

[seeagreatergood]

So things got awkward and Auggie moved his stuff back out of the Stark household into Milliways.

And he's been totally fine with it. Honestly. It's been kind of a relief not to have to keep such a close eye on himself the last three or four days. Milliways is kind of anxiety-inducing, but less anxiety inducing than living in a house with those two young men.

Of course, he misses the easy camaraderie. But it's not like this is the first time he valued safety over friendship.

Comments

[seeagreatergood]

"--Tony."

Oh, perfect.

"I'm fine. You should go talk to Sherlock. He's in his room." He nods towards the stairs.

[toblameforit]

"What should I go talk to him about? Or is this one of those Sherry things?"

[seeagreatergood]

He looks up at the ceiling, a sort of if only I could be struck by lightning right now that would be great gesture.

"I can't talk to you right now, Tony. You can ask Sherlock about it."

[toblameforit]

Tony starts to say something—frowns—stops.

"Okay. His room, you said? Not ours?"

[seeagreatergood]

"I guess, yeah. The small one."

[toblameforit]

He fidgets a little.



"Can I hug you?"

[seeagreatergood]

He takes a deep breath (skin and solder and a hint of sweat).

"Not a good idea."

[toblameforit]

"Okay," he says again, quieter, and heads past Auggie up the stairs.

[seeagreatergood]

Auggie gives him a minute or two.

Actually, as long as he's waiting for Tony to get upstairs so they won't run into each other, he's going to make a detour to Bar and get a bottle of Patrón. And he is going to drink until he passes out and see if things have fixed themselves in the morning. The old tequila-as-hard-reboot strategy.

Bottle in hand, he heads upstairs; in his room, he throws his cane on the bed, finds a glass in the chest of drawers, and pours himself a shot.

[toblameforit]

About half an hour passes.







Somebody knocks tentatively on Auggie's door.

[seeagreatergood]

At this point Auggie has had a shot or two. And by a shot or two we mean three.

He lifts his head at the knock and sighs.

"What is it?"

[toblameforit]

"You forgot your book."

[seeagreatergood]

Kchunk click. The door opens.

"I'm guessing 'Thanks, bye' isn't going to work very well, is it."

[toblameforit]

"Nope. Can I come in?"

[seeagreatergood]

"Yeah, just let me hide the tequila."

He turns and heads for the couch, where the bottle is sitting next to a full shot glass. He taps the cork back in and stashes it under the side table.

[toblameforit]

Tony steps inside and shuts the door behind him, but apparently feels he will need a more explicit invitation to come in and sit down.

[seeagreatergood]

Auggie sits down, takes a couple breaths.

"So. You wanna talk about it?"

[toblameforit]

He comes in far enough to put the book on the side table.

"You were a real dick to Sherry, you know that, right?"

[seeagreatergood]

Given that he's been thinking that himself, it's surprising how guilty it makes him feel to hear it coming from Tony.

"Yeah, I figured that part out. How's he doing?"

[toblameforit]

"He'll be okay, but—did you know what you were saying when you told him it'd fuck you both up more?"

[seeagreatergood]

--Wait, what? That was the dick part?

"Apparently not."

[toblameforit]

He leans against the back of the couch without sitting down.

(He smells very faintly of Obadiah's cologne now. Most of that half hour was spent cuddling.)

"You were saying you think he's fucked up, you think you know what's in his head better than he does, and you think the only thing you guys can do is hurt each other."

[seeagreatergood]

"You're both sleeping with a man you know is a murderer! What part of that is not fucked up!"

[toblameforit]

"Jesus Christ you work for the CIA I should not have to tell you there is such a thing as a gray area!"

[seeagreatergood]

"This is not a gray area, this is insane!"