Measuring Life with Coffee Spoons -
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?
A/N: The title and section of stanza above is from a favourite poem of mine - The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, by TS Eliot. Check it out ;)
It was an undeniable attraction that started it all off. The not-so-innocent texts, the constant thoughts, the playful flirting. Of course, Tony Stark knew it could never amount to something more. The five other people currently residing in the Stark Tower, now Avengers Mansion, would certainly not agree. Nor would Director Fury, and Stark definitely did not get him into a fury.
Tony's StarkPhone buzzed rebelliously on the counter in front of him, next to his very strong cup of black coffee. Steve eyed the phone, knowing that specific vibration tone was for one person only- and that person had been texting an awful lot lately. Tony glanced down, a flush of red running down his face, as he carefully picked up his phone. It suddenly blinked awake, with three new message alerts from simply 'Mischief'. A glance to his watch told him it was before ten in the morning, a time when the Norse God was rarely awake, choosing to sleep in until past 12.
"Man of Iron!" The other Norse God rumbled, a heavy fist slamming down on the counter.
"Pick up that phone! It has been insistently buzzing all morning, and some of us require more sleep than mortals." Tony glanced towards the Thunder God, who had chosen to wear light blue kitten pyjamas – unbeknownst to many, Thor was in fact a softie at heart, regardless of his bulging muscles.
Tony nervously scrolled through his messages, quickly deleting the boring one from Pepper – something about a business meeting – and instead staring straight at the offending message at hand. His finger hovered over the 'Open' button, glancing at both Thor and Steve, seeing if they were close enough to read what was in the text. His thumb pressed firmly down on the button, a shrill 'ehehehehehe' sounding from it's speakers. Tony felt his blood rush to his cheek and neck, his hands going cold. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Clint falter from his travel from his bedroom to the bathroom, his head turning quickly sideways to stare at Tony. Steve sat a little straighter, his eyes resting inquisitively on the phone.
"Man of Iron, correct me if I am wrong – was that not my brothers laugh?" Thor murmured, a smile resting on his lips, clearly due to Tony's embarrassment.
"Er... yes.. I mean, no... Why would it be Loki? No-one's seen him for weeks... isn't he off roaming Venice since he's been bound to Earth?" Tony mumbled incoherently, the words tumbling out as his voice broke worryingly in several places. Thor raised a blonde eyebrow, his hands resting on his pyjama-clad hips.
" I believe I can tell my brothers laugh when I hear it, Stark, we are not so divided."
"You must be mistaken... really, he's backpacking round Venice!" Tony squeaked, noticing the red hair of Natasha out the corner of his eye, her head peeking out of Clint's room. "Coffee anyone?"
Tony picked up the recently boiled kettle, holding it out to try diffuse the situation at hand. His other hand slipped his phone deftly into the back pocket of his jeans, instead choosing to grab a mug from the nearest cupboard. Said mug dropped on the floor, shattering, as the crackling sound of JARVIS' intercom system filled the kitchen.
The voice that followed was certainly not the one of JARVIS, instead the smooth voice of the other god they all knew so terribly well.
"Stark, for God's sake, let me in will you?"
