Title: Solitude in a Bottle of Jack
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.
I do not have, nor will I ever have, a beta. All mistakes are my own.
But we can walk across all these boundaries
You and me, nothing here to stop you, you're now free - Hilltop Hoods, Through the Dark
Pepper draws her hand across his cheek, and she watches as he takes another sip of the bottle of jack in his hands. His eyes are glassy, and she knows that however much his drinking burns her from the inside, she lets him keep doing it. When he drinks enough, she knows, the nightmares stop. She kisses his alcohol ridden lips softly, closes one of his hands in her smaller ones and tells him that she's going up to bed. Her hair is a curled mane of fiery orange down her back, and her baggy pyjamas make her look even more beautiful to Tony; even if they're not exactly making much of a fashion statement.
He nods absently. "G'night, Pep," he murmurs, gazing distantly out at the New York skyline and feeling the shivers run through his body as another sip sends alcohol coursing into his stomach and clouding his mind. Tony watches her wander off, slowly, as though she's hoping he'll get up and run after her.
He won't, but he lets her take that hope with her all the way to bed, anyway.
Once she's disappeared from sight, he gets up and swaggers out to the balcony to where Natasha is dazedly smoking a cigarette on the railing. It's picturesque and beautiful, the way that the smoke puffs out of her pursed lips like a plume from a charcoaled chimney. Thor's seated himself beside her, feet kicked up on the rails as he lounges back in a flimsy plastic deck chair from Cap's old apartment. Tony wonders how on earth it hasn't cracked under his weight, but doesn't say anything aloud. He doesn't want to offend the god, really.
Tony downs the rest of the jack and only says anything when he's spoken to. The liquid flows down his throat and calms his senses, but he notices the separation from it once it's all gone, and misses the alcohol with a superfluous need. Usually, on nights like this, cool and crisp, with just enough melancholy to remind him of everything that he's been through, he keeps silent and just drinks alongside Nat. Tonight is one of the first nights wherein another Avenger has joined them. And, hey, if anyone's going to join them, it's going to be Thor.
"Hello, Anthony." Thor says quietly, downing a shot of vodka. The alcohol doesn't do much to his Asgardian system, but he likes the taste all the same. "Lady Natasha said that you would be joining us soon."
"Natasha." Corrects the SHIELD agent, and Thor winces. The frown lines on his brow become more prominent as he does so.
"Of course. Natasha." He reprimands dully, and Tony smiles drily.
Tony peers into the empty bottle and scowls. "It's gone." He mutters. "Natasha, would you pass me another, please?" And she does, reaching into the esky beside her and pulling out a cold can of jack and handing it to him as she puffs lazily on her cigarette. He cracks it open, and Thor grins at the sight. His hammer, which rests beside him, is long since forgotten. And, soon, as is the liquor.
They end the night when Tony scoots his chair over to Natasha, rests his head on her shoulder and promptly falls asleep. Thor watches them for a moment, seeking comfort in one another, the beauty of their friendship resonating deeply within the night air, and Thor knows that Pepper will be sleeping alone tonight.
Review? Maybe? Please?
This story is the second installment in my 'Natashalie and Anthony' series which can also be found on ao3 under the same penname.
yeayyyyy
luv ya, singlouder