kore_logs | Santa Claus is coming to town

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Santa Claus is coming to town

Who: Secret Santa participants, but also EVERYONE!
Where: Town Hall
When: Evening of day 24
What: Present giving! The Secret Santa reveal, and anyone who wants to have a christmas party is welcome to join too!
Notess: Party style thread guys, so go nuts. No order, everything is chaos, tag to your hearts content, feel free to break off into separate threads, and no spiking the punch! Also I think she's sort of mentioned it to a bunch of people but want to do me some lovely favours and handwave the actual name drawing? I will backtag if people want but it seems a little pointless to thread that out.

There's another message on the network that morning from Anna, just audio again. It's about as garbled as her first one regarding the Secret Santa idea, but for anyone who is listening closely enough they'll make out a few details. Namely this evening, town hall, and bring your presents before she shuts it off.

She's spent the rest of the day trying to do what she can to make the place look nicer. She's hardly got Christmas decorations on tap, but she's done what she can with what she has all the same. There's paper snow flakes up around the place, some of the food from her house placed in bowls to make it more party-appropriate, and it's no fir but she has relocated a small tree from the edge of the woods and placed it in the hall. Barely decorated, not even the right kind of tree, it's the best she can do with the resources she's been given.

Now all there is to do is wait for people to come.

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Some of the tension knotting his shoulders fades when he feels Bruce's hand on his arm. It takes every ounce of willpower he has not to grab onto his hand and refuse to let go. But it's weak and childish, not to mention selfish, and Bruce is the last person to whom he wants to appear that way.

"Do you want the honest answer or the bullshit answer?" He says it wryly, the corner of his mouth twisting into something that's trying, and failing, to be a smile. "I'd say I wanted whiskey, but I don't know if there's any left in this stupid town and I don't think I really want to stumbling around for more reasons than one." Even though it would take some of the edge off.

"How are you? Can you—You're still okay, right?"

He's glad he got the honest answer, even if it's grim; honesty, even grim honesty, is better than trying to soften the truth. He stays close to Tony because he's never been suddenly blind, but he figures it has to be frightening and unsettling. That Tony's here at all is a wonder, and Bruce is both glad that he's out and worried that he's pushing himself too hard. That's what he's here for, though; he'll keep an eye on Tony all night.

"Maybe when we get back to the house. We'll have a nightcap." He smiles, though Tony can't see it; he can probably hear it.

"I'm good. Nothing to report, other than social awkwardness. I, uh. I have your present here, but... Do you want it?"

“Make it a strong one and you’re on.”

He does his best to sound normal, to keep the casual, irreverent tone firmly in place. Otherwise, it would be too obvious that he’s terrified, and he doesn’t want to admit it to himself, much less anyone else. But all he can think about is that like this, he can’t build anything. He can’t read or write or do any of the things he’s done for the last forty-odd years. And if he focuses on that, if he dwells too much on what he’s lost, he thinks he’ll go mad.

“Are you too popular? Is that why you’re feeling awkward? It’s okay. You’ll get used to it.” His fingers curl as he talks, briefly catching at Bruce’s wrist before letting go again. He’s like an anchor in the middle of a storm, and every so often, Tony can’t help needing to reassure himself that he’s really there. “If you went to the trouble of bringing it here, yes. I do. I could give you mine, but it’s kind of two things and one of those things you probably don’t want me giving to you here.”

He's going to work on this blindness thing. He's still looking for a cause. Environmental? He supposes they could have drugged them all with something, and he's planning to run as many tests as possible, but he's not extremely confident of what he can put together with the crap he can find in random attics compared to scientists with full labs and real equipment. But he will try, as hard as he can. That's what he wishes he could give Tony today; his real present seems pretty pale in comparison.

"Weirdly, I am popular tonight, but to be honest, I just want to make sure people like me so they're less likely to, you know." He leans in and lowers his voice. "Hate me, in case something... bad happens."

Bruce stops partway into leaning to pick up the bag containing Tony's present, and he looks up at Tony with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation.

"So now I get to spend all night wondering what that's going to be. Will you give me any hints?" He straightens with the bag in his hand, which he rustles, casually, making sure it makes noise so Tony can know it's here, without making it into a production.

“No one’s going to hate you.” Tony might be uncertain about a number of things right now, but not about that, and that certainty is there in the quickness of his response and the steadiness of his voice. “And if they do, I’ll punch them. If you tell me where they are. And hold them still. Or I’ll just make Steve punch them for you. That might be easier.”

That’s a joke, even if it falls a little flat. But he’s trying really damn hard to maintain the levity. And he’ll continue to do it for as long as they’re at the party.

“And ruin the surprise?” At the rustling of the bag, Tony’s head tips slightly to the side and his eyes shift in its direction, but he can’t see it and ends up appearing as though he’s looking at Bruce’s hip. “I don’t know how to talk about it without making it obvious. It’s something you’d probably appreciate a lot more if we were alone when I gave it to you. I’m thinking public, or even semi-public, might be a little too embarrassing for you.”

Humor is Bruce's main form of coping, so he understands, and he won't try to push Tony off the track; the alternative is for him to try to give Tony some kind of promise that he'll make him better, and Bruce would, but he isn't sure he's going to be able to sell that convincingly. Better to focus on the jokes, on the presents, and keeping him company. It's not like he can really keep Tony's mind off the problem, but he can at least make sure he doesn't feel alone.

"I don't know; you think Steve would? I'd bet more money on Sharon."

Subtly, he moves so Tony's aim is right, hitting the package instead of Bruce. The great thing about Tony is that he really has no clue where he might be going with this inappropriate present.

"I'd say it's a sex toy, but I'd almost think you'd rather give me one of those in public." He holds out Tony's present, and he steps in closer to take him by the wrist and set his hand on one handle.

"You hold that," he murmurs; he holds open the other side of the bag, and reaches in to pull out the toaster, decorated a la The Brave Little Toaster with googly eyes and everything. He pulls the bag away and sets Tony's hand against the side of the toaster.

"Here. See if you can guess."

“Bruce Banner, I am shocked and appalled by that suggestion.” He doesn’t really sound appalled, but he does sound surprised. “I would not give you a sex toy in public.” And if he stopped there, it would be mostly decent and not really all that suggestive. But he doesn’t stop there. Why would he? “I would give it to you in private and then I would offer to show you how to use it.”

His smirk would likely carry more weight if he were capable of looking Bruce in the eye when he did it. “I’m a good teacher. Very thorough and detailed in my instruction. You’d learn a lot.”

Proving that he can follow directions, he takes hold of the bag’s handle when Bruce sets his hand on it. He cocks his head again, listening to the rustle but unable to make out what it might be. When Bruce takes the bag away and places his hand on the whatever it is, he brings the second on up on his own to feel around at it.

It’s smooth beneath his fingertips. A tap of his fingernails elicits a sound that could be either metal or a really hard plastic. “It’s a box… Some kind of…” He thinks out loud as he runs his hands over it. Hard, kind of a rounded square, slots at the top, dials on the side. Almost like a toaster. “Is it a toaster?”

"Yeah, I bet you are."

Actually, the whole thing carries more weight when Bruce knows Tony can't see him because he doesn't think about his reactions, a luxury he used to have, but which seems to have gone out the window with Tony. Not that Bruce thinks there's much he can do to ruin this opinion Tony has of him, which is another new and strange idea.

Also not that any of this matters when Tony's blind. Perspective, Banner.

He smiles when he guesses toaster, and he nods his head. "Yup. Now feel the front, but be careful." He doesn't want the face he glued on to get knocked off.

"Is it plugged in? If I stick my hand in the slot at the top, am I going to get electrocuted?"

It's another joke, harkening back to the warnings Jarvis used to give him as a child. Don't stick your fork in the toaster, Master Stark. You're going to get—What did I just tell you? He knows that it's not plugged in now, he can feel the cord hanging from it, too limp to be attached to anything.

Gingerly, he feels around at the front of the toaster and finds nothing, only to realize after a moment that he's actually touching the back of it. Sighing in embarrassed frustration, he tries again, and this time feels... He has no idea what it is. "I think I'm losing the game here. I'm not sure what this is."

"Yes, Tony, I'm trying to stage an electrocution at a party full of witnesses. I'm sinister that way. It's all part of my evil plan." His tone is light and playful, gentle to counter Tony's frustration.

Reaching around, he lightly takes Tony's hand, catching him around his fingers, so he can guide him in tracing the outline of first one eye, then the other, then down the bridge of the nose, and then across the glued-on felt smile. He sees the touch as something doctorly, not invasive, just coaching Tony on how to use his hands to figure it out for himself.

"It's the Brave Little Toaster. Remember? You needed one. I thought I'd help you get there."

With someone else, it might be invasive. With Bruce, it’s okay. More than okay, it’s comfortable, and Tony’s hand is lax and malleable in his. He feels felt in geometrical shapes, but isn’t quite there yet on figuring it out. Not until Bruce explains it, and then he gets it. It makes him laugh. Genuine, amused, almost gleeful laughter, and he tightens his grip on it like he’s just discovered something precious and is worried that someone is going to steal it from him.

“I’m going to have to make it talk now. You know that, right? Not having a talking Brave Little Toaster just isn’t acceptable.” How he’s going to do that when he can’t see and doesn’t have JARVIS to guide him, Tony doesn’t know and refuses to dwell on it now.

“This makes my two part present pretty lame. Just FYI. I can’t even say you can return it if you hate it since there’s not really anything to return.” Keeping a hold of the toaster, he reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out what looks like a card envelop. With a crooked smile, he holds it out in Bruce’s direction. “Here’s part one, anyway.”

Folded with neat, almost painfully anal, lines into thirds is a thick piece of paper. On it is a drawing in black ink. It’s no masterpiece of modern art. Or any art whatsoever. It’s obviously hand-drawn by someone who isn’t very practiced at drawing people but has given it a try anyway: two men, one with curly hair and one with a goatee, wearing clothes that look a little too hip and who are in the process of either having spasms or dancing, it’s difficult to tell. Bruce thought of the toaster portion of their first conversation in Cape Kore, whereas Tony brought the boy band duo to badly drawn life.

He grins at the laughter, glad that Tony's back up to laughing; he'd been sure Tony would like it, or smile, or roll his eyes either way, but especially now with this blindness thing, it's good to see him happy.

"Maybe we can find a doll with a voice box," he says, easy and light, as he reaches for Tony's present. He's still curious about this part two, and will be until it happens, and he's trying not to blow it up into something in his mind. What could Tony get him here, anyway? Maybe it's something to do with the other guy. Steve and Sharon had both given him stretchy pants, after all.

When he unfolds the paper, and takes in the drawing, and figures out what's going on, he laughs too, short but easy, and he turns his smile up at Tony. He can tell it's embarrassingly adoring, so maybe it's good Tony can't see it.

"Or maybe something musical. Then we'd just need to teach it to dance. Thank you, Tony. I love it."

Much as he doesn’t like being blind, he has to admit – if only to himself – that he’s glad he can’t watch Bruce open the present. It’s a stupid thing, not nearly as potentially embarrassing as his other present, but there’s a tiny measure of himself that’s gone into making it. He never claimed to be an artist. He knows he’s terrible at it. But it’s one thing to doodle during board meetings and quite another to present a crappy drawing to someone else like it’s actually a good thing.

He takes his laughter as a good sign. And though he rolls his eyes when Bruce says he loves it, Tony’s grin says that for the moment, he’s content.

“Now you just have to love part two. Which, well, you might not love it, but maybe you’ll like it? I am pretty good. At least, that’s what everyone says, so unless they’re just stroking my ego, I’m willing to believe them.”

Unable to see where he’s reaching, he fumbles a little as he tries to touch Bruce’s arm. “I’m glad you like it. Help me find somewhere prominent in the kitchen to put mine?”

Again with the innuendos about this present, and Bruce laughs, but he's really becoming interested in what this thing is, and maybe a little nervous. Definitely excited, which is bad because being excited can result in being disappointed, and if he's disappointed then it's just his own fault because he's inflated the idea of this present. He wants to love it, so he just has to stop expecting anything too big or grand. That's all.

"Everyone, huh? Well, who am I to doubt everyone? When am I going to get this next part?"

He and Tony share so many of these little touches, and Bruce is really getting used to them. It isn't that he isn't a touchy person; it's just that he doesn't touch people. Now with this openness between them, his walls are coming down and he's taking what he's been craving.

"Of course. Maybe you can help me decide if I should put this drawing in the clinic or in my room. I split my time pretty evenly between them both." And of course, one's far more public, and the other's far more private.

“How’s tonight sound? Back at the house after the party?” Steve and Peggy are back at the house, though, and because he doesn’t want to deal with an audience, Tony amends that suggestion. “Preferably my room or yours, so that we’re not entertaining the Rogerses.”

He deliberately says it wrong - Rogerses instead of Rogers - both so that his humor is evident and so that Bruce knows he means Steve and Peggy. “Is that okay with you? Or is waiting not going to cut it? Because I guess we could sneak off somewhere, but you’d have to play Seeing-Eye Bruce for me if we go that route.”

Truthfully, someone will need to help him back to the house after the party, too, but at least then he’ll have some idea of where he’s going.

“Clinics are supposed to be calming places, right? Set peoples’ minds at ease so that when they get the bad news they don’t freak out?” He nods vaguely in the direction, he hopes, of the drawing. “That might be counterproductive.” Because even Tony knows his drawing ability is crap.

Bruce lifts his eyebrows, not that Tony can see. Isn't he playing Seeing-Eye Bruce later, too? Maybe it's strangely possessive of him to feel that way, and maybe he ought to back off, let Steve walk him, or Peggy, or -- hell, whoever, just to make sure Bruce isn't letting himself get too many wrong ideas about this. It could be perfectly natural that he'd want to be possessive of someone so willing to back him up as Tony, though; he's found more allies here than he'd expected, but Tony is... something special.

Wow, okay. Off topic thoughts. He shakes his head and refocuses. This time, the suggestive nature of this present doesn't even seem to be intentional, which means now he's really curious. Is it like... a blow job? Does Tony realize he's still describing oral sex?

"Tonight, after. Good things come to those who wait, and I get off on anticipation." True, but also he just wants to play along with his mysterious present.

"...you think your drawing is going to disturb someone mentally? You must have a really low opinion of your drawing ability. And if yes, then that opinion's wrong." Monet he isn't, but he's a far cry from frightening.

It's hard to flirt when he can't see the person he's flirting with. It's never occurred to him that that might be a problem, but now that he's standing here, unable to see Bruce's expression or posture and forced to take clues from his voice, Tony realizes how difficult it is to gauge his reaction, see if he's gone too far. Of course, the appropriate thing to do would be to stop flirting with him entirely, but Tony has always been terrible at doing what he's supposed to do.

"Should we wait a little longer?" He can't help asking, even though he knows he ought to keep his mouth shut before he chases Bruce away. "I mean, you should really be getting the most out of the experience, right? Getting off prematurely might take some of the fun out of it. Is tomorrow better for you? I could wait until tomorrow."

Although now he's envisioning a far sexier scenario for the final part of his gift giving than he'd originally intended. And god, he wishes he knew how to make that happen. Being blind makes it easier to get lost in the mental images, there's nothing else to distract him away from them, and it takes him a moment to realize that Bruce has said something else. Dragging himself away from what was going to be fantasy fodder later, he shakes his head.

"I--Okay, sorry. I got a little distracted. What?"

Bruce can only laugh, thinking Tony's playing with him again, and he likes that, he does; it's fun, and provided Bruce remembers it's just for fun, then it's harmless. He hasn't flirted or been flirted with in so long without being afraid of the other person getting the wrong idea, but Tony understands, or he ought to, right? And Tony isn't being serious, so there's nothing to worry about here.

"Tonight will do fine," he says warmly, amusement clear in his voice. "Your room, when we get back." Tony's room, so he doesn't have to go anywhere when they're done, and maybe he's less likely to run into anything in his room.

Edited 2012-12-29 02:12 (UTC)

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Santa Claus is coming to town

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