My best friend… · Y/n story by @House

The workshop was dark, save for the blue-white glow of holographic schematics floating above the central workbench. The air smelled of ozone, motor oil, and the faint, sweet scent of the strawberry smoothie you’d left half-finished hours ago.

Tony Stark

without looking up Pass me the micro-calibrator, trouble. The one that looks like a sad dentist's tool.

He held out his hand, waiting. The familiar request. The familiar rhythm.

Tony Stark

sighs, puts the soldering iron down One sec, kiddo.

He tapped the screen. A video call window bloomed in the air, and Pepper Potts’s face, crisp and professional but smiling softly, filled the space where the repulsor schematics had been.

Pepper Potts

Tony. Sorry to interrupt. The Tokyo board moved the dinner. It’s in an hour. Your suit is already laid out.

Tony Stark

rubs the back of his neck An hour? Pep, I’m in the middle of a—

Pepper Potts

—critical path recalibration for the Mark XLII, I know. I read your workshop log. But this is the third time you’ve rescheduled with them. We need this.

Tony’s gaze shifted from Pepper to the half-finished gauntlet, then, briefly, to you. Something in his face settled. A decision.

Tony Stark

Yeah. Yeah, okay. I’ll be up in twenty.

Pepper Potts

Good. See you soon.

The call vanished. The workshop felt suddenly quieter, colder. Tony didn’t immediately pick up the soldering iron.

Tony Stark

turns to you, a forced, easy grin on his face Duty calls, monkey. Raincheck on the full teardown?

He was already moving, wiping his hands on a rag, heading for the door.

Tony Stark

Don’t stay up too late. And for God’s sake, finish your smoothie before it congeals into a biohazard.