In the beginning, when Justin's mind was heavily clouded by the man Tony Stark made himself out to be in the public's eye as opposed to the man he actually was, Justin wouldn't have been able to tell affectionate gestures from ones that were done in the sole hopes of leading up to sex. He did, in fact, understand that a person sometimes put on a totally different face than they actually were, but there were decades of "Tony Stark" working against him, even if Justin didn't want them to. It wasn't until he'd confronted him about the idea of them not being a "thing" as far as Christmas that he realized the full extent of how foggy his view had become and, thus, had been able to tear down a lot of those walls. Of course, Tony being Tony had done quite a number in that direction, but after a good deal of time had passed, Justin was confident he was fully aware of Tony the man and not letting Tony the Public Figure seep its way into his every word and action for him to look at later and say, ah, yes, just like this one article I read and the following news report two weeks later.
He knows that Tony's not letting his mouth roam free over his neck as a start towards the endeavor of getting Justin's pants open yet again. He knows that he's doing it because he wants to, because he can, because he likes to (and that's still strange), and because Justin will—possibly above all of it—allow it and wants it himself. There's no inward cringing about oh that Tony, always wanting sex. Not any longer, and there hasn't been for quite some time. It's something that makes him smile and squeeze his side tighter, that hand leaving his hair to run up and down the contour of his spine underneath his jacket.
"I'm sure you could." It's not fully supportive but it's not fully dismissive. He doesn't think Tony's serious about it, just like he didn't think he was serious about courteous gorilla bodies for his AI. It doesn't make it any less silly an idea, in Justin's opinion. But, hell, without a company to run, what else is he going to do when he gets frustrated with Iron Man projects and wants to do something to keep him occupied and give him time away from it so he can see it at a new angle when he gets back? "Actually, I know you could. But what would you do with it? You can't mass produce it. Or, you know...it'd be like the number one way for kids to break bones, surpassing scooters and skateboards and bikes. You could fly it around the house instead of using the stairs, though. That might be handy in case you ever, I don't know, get too tired to drag yourself up there and the elevator is busted. Then again, maybe you could just.
"Sleep on it.
"Midair."
A moment's pause.
"Shit. Now I want a flying carpet to sleep on. That sounds amazing."
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He knows that Tony's not letting his mouth roam free over his neck as a start towards the endeavor of getting Justin's pants open yet again. He knows that he's doing it because he wants to, because he can, because he likes to (and that's still strange), and because Justin will—possibly above all of it—allow it and wants it himself. There's no inward cringing about oh that Tony, always wanting sex. Not any longer, and there hasn't been for quite some time. It's something that makes him smile and squeeze his side tighter, that hand leaving his hair to run up and down the contour of his spine underneath his jacket.
"I'm sure you could." It's not fully supportive but it's not fully dismissive. He doesn't think Tony's serious about it, just like he didn't think he was serious about courteous gorilla bodies for his AI. It doesn't make it any less silly an idea, in Justin's opinion. But, hell, without a company to run, what else is he going to do when he gets frustrated with Iron Man projects and wants to do something to keep him occupied and give him time away from it so he can see it at a new angle when he gets back? "Actually, I know you could. But what would you do with it? You can't mass produce it. Or, you know...it'd be like the number one way for kids to break bones, surpassing scooters and skateboards and bikes. You could fly it around the house instead of using the stairs, though. That might be handy in case you ever, I don't know, get too tired to drag yourself up there and the elevator is busted. Then again, maybe you could just.
"Sleep on it.
"Midair."
A moment's pause.
"Shit. Now I want a flying carpet to sleep on. That sounds amazing."