Asymmetry

Tony keeps all his things in a flawless order. Someone who enters his workshop might not think so, but there is a thought behind where every tool and every machine is, even if it's not visible to others. Dummy is one, unique, in the middle; You and Butterfingers are a symmetrical structure. JARVIS has learned to stream his voice from all speakers at once, like music, filling the space equally.

In the tower angles and distances are carefully calculated. On shelves, all glasses wait in perfect line. In the garage, cars are standing opposite to each other, always an even number. Inside the display, there are six Mark suits.

Matching cufflinks, identically tied shoelaces, straight white teeth.

Tony is in the center of the mathematically structured universe. It's not OCD, he's been asked and he laughs at the idea. It is just striving for perfection.

Then Steve comes barging in his life, Steve, who is a cliché artist, a mess, a klutz; Steve, who moves things around and doesn't put them back, wears mismatched clothes to their dates, who leaves his pencils everywhere.

Steve, Tony learns, is his complement, his balance, his counterpart. Steve makes everything a different kind of perfect.