Pepper smirks to herself, pleased that she can predict him so well. They're almost twenty minutes in, and Tony is caught up in the film, just as she suspected he would be. She feels a mixed sense of amusement and mischievousness when the shower scene comes up and she deliberately gives a little sigh.

"Ah-ah, none of that," Tony chides her, scowling a little as on-screen, Clint Eastwood negotiates his way through steamy trouble. "Kindly remember you were all of what? Three years old when this was filmed?"

"I think you're jealous," she murmurs playfully.

"I'm not jealous, I'm pragmatic. That body up there is now soft, flabby and *old* Pepper. The muscles have atrophied, and the skin is all saggy and loose in big wrinkles," Tony explains carefully. "You need to . . ." he trails off because Pepper's hand is on his thigh, stroking very slowly. She doesn't look down, doesn't acknowledge it any way, and Tony hums a little because damn, it feels unbelievably good. He shifts closer to her, his lecture on the evils of lusting after Clint Eastwood fading away.

Pepper hums a little herself, and allows her fingers to spread, caressing his chino-covered thigh in the semi-darkness. For a long moment neither of them move, and Pepper can feel the tension along the muscles of his leg. Impishness eggs her on, and ever so slowly, she allows her hand to shift to the inside of his thigh, her touch seriously flirtatious.

Tony gives another little strangled hum and she feels his chest hitch a bit. His voice is whisper-soft. "You lied. You're not a nice girl at all."

"Nope," Pepper agrees. "But *some* body had to make the first move."

He growls low in this throat. "I was *being* a gentleman."

"Yes, well you get points for it, and now you can stop," she murmurs, "unless you'd like to watch the rest of the mov—"

Pepper doesn't get to finish; Tony half-turns and catches her mouth with his, kissing her hungrily. His mouth is hot and lightly flavored with popcorn, but she doesn't care, and kisses him back with a slow happy grind, feeling giddy and aroused and naughty. She loops an arm around his neck to pull him in and keep him close; Tony gives a deep groan of pleasure at the move.

They kiss again, more slowly this time, lingering over the gentle give and take of it; Tony brushes his mouth over hers with tenderness, and Pepper nips at it lovingly, giving in to the long-desired delight of giving Mr. Stark exactly the sort of kisses she's wanted to for a very long time.

It's a rush, hot and deep, to kiss him so thoroughly; to have the freedom to gasp and moan and run her hands through his hair. The reward is knowing, *feeling* the laser focus of Tony's attention on her completely. And oh he's good—very good—at kissing.

Tony is fairly sure that the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse could charge up and ring the doorbell, and he'd never know it. His entire reason for existing at the moment is to kiss Pepper Potts so thoroughly that she'll never think of any other man again, and it's a vocation he's up for, completely. Popcorn spills all over the floor under the sofa as he stretches back and pulls Pepper onto him, letting her glorious hair tumble down to brush the sides of his face.

"Damn but you're beautiful," he blurts out, startled at how true it is. Pepper beams down at him and kisses him once more, but there's a giggle behind it, and the spluttering makes them both laugh wetly against each other's mouths. It's hard to get serious, but when Pepper makes it a point to slide one leg sensually between Tony's as she stretches out on him, he gives a gasp, hands cupping her ass again. "Ohhhh, niiiiiice----"

"Hmmm," Pepper hums, a little musical note to it; a sound Tony knows means she's happy.

Then she cranks the volume by taking one of his hands off her backside and bringing it up to her chest; specifically to the rounded curve there.

Tony blinks and stares at his grip on her breast, utterly speechless, and the sight is so *funny* to Pepper that she giggles. "You said something about buttons?" she reminds him sweetly.

"B-buttons," he echoes, then closes his eyes for a moment. "Yeah—"

But he doesn't want to let go of her breast, which is warm and squeezable and inhisHANDyeahhhhhh, so Pepper gives a little sigh and starts undoing *his* buttons. The feel of her cool fingers slipping under his shirt sets off quivers along his stomach muscles, and Tony's grip tightens ever so slightly.

"Need help?" Pepper whispers, a little uncertainly now, and that's enough to make his eyes open again.

Tony arches an eyebrow at her. "I'm . . . savoring the moment," he tells her, thumb moving across the firm nub of her nipple that's now apparent against the fabric of her dress. Pepper shudders, making a sexy squeak that Tony instantly loves and wants to hear again and again.

He lightly circles his thumb around the hardened little knob, and this time Pepper writhes. This is a nice sensation against his thigh, and Tony grunts a little. "Ooooh. Nice button right here---"

"Toooonnnnnyyy---" Pepper sighs in a long, low voice, and Oh GOD he loves that sound too. Between the squeezable breast, the feel of her hand under his shirt and the honeyed sex in her voice, Tony Stark is getting wayyy too close to climaxing in his slacks; a situation he hasn't faced in years. In desperation, he kisses her, and begins to fumble with the buttons on her dress, eager, anxious, living right on the edge of overload.

Pepper can't believe the heat flooding through her, making her thighs clench. Tony tastes wonderful, and the feel of his skin has her restless now. She knows she's already on overload for hormones, and having Tony plucking open the top of her dress is driving her crazy in the best way. She nibbles his neck.

"Nnnugh! Pepper—" he growls, grinding against her thigh helplessly, "I do NOT want to have a little messy *problem* here!"

She whimpers; *another* sound Tony files away on his Permanent Pepper Playlist, and shifts a little. By the third button, he sees too, that the bra has a front closure, and it takes all of his concentration not to moan.

"Thank you, God—" Tony confesses in a hoarse little voice, very nearly at the edge of sanity now. Pepper impatiently plucks the hooks open.

The first brush of his mustache and lips over her beautiful bare chest is enough; more than enough. Pepper clamps her thighs around Tony's leg, throws her head back and gives a long, sweet yodel as her slender body shudders against his in long, uncontrollable spasms.

Tony, astonished, thrilled and at the end of his self-control, can't help but follow her lead a few moments later and ends up wrapping his arms around her small waist and rocking against her stomach, growling in ecstasy. It's an amazing shared climax, complete with the crackle of crushed popcorn and squeaking cushions.

It's a while before either of them can speak.

Or move.

Then Jarvis speaks. "Although *technically* that was within the designated perimeters of the evening, I am forced once again to accelerate the timeline for your courtship."

"Jarvis, Alpha, OFF." Tony orders firmly. He turns his head to try and see Pepper, who has her face buried between his neck and shoulder. "Hey."

She says nothing. Slightly worried now, Tony tries again to look at her. "Um Pepper?" He moves to touch her cheek, and when she rolls her face towards him, Tony realizes she's asleep.

"Mmmmm?" Pepper mumbles, eyes finally opening. "Oh . . . sorry, sorry, I didn't mean---"

He smirks. "You. Fell. Asleep. Okay Potts, it's a good thing I have a pretty sturdy ego, because most guys would take that the wrong way. Luckily for you, *I* understand completely, and I'm flattered."

Pepper blinks sleepily and looks at him, waiting for his explanation. Tony clears his throat a little and continues. "Clearly, your orgasm was so all-encompassing and magnificent—which by the way, from a spectator point of view I can *totally* attest to, Rawr!—that it could only be followed by complete body relaxation in the backrush of endorphins, along with the sense of security of being in my arms."

It's Pepper's turn to arch an eyebrow at him, but her dimples are deep, and she reaches to stroke the line of his goatee from mustache to chin with a forefinger. "Something like that," she agrees, sweetly. "Although I expected better bra work from a skilled engineer such as yourself."

Tony pouts. "Total fluke, I swear. Won't happen again." As if to make good his promise, he slides a hand up along Pepper's ribcage, determined to get back to the Promised Land.

Pepper blushes and turns her face, but he won't let her get away with it, and kisses her again. It's a tender kiss; a lover's intimate gesture infused with only a hint of lust at this point, and Pepper kisses him back, then sighs. "I should probably be mortified, but I feel too good to worry about it."

"Mmmm," Tony mumbles, happily copping a feel of the satiny heft of her exposed breast. "Oh yeah, vouching that you feel really, *really* good. Yeaaaaaah, I think we might even be looking at repeat action here---"

"Oh God—you . . . you probably need to, um, clean up . . ." Pepper blurts, flushing a lovely shade of rose. Tony's mouth twitches and he rolls his eyes a tiny bit, sighing.

"Downside of second base," he mutters. "Although I suppose you're right."

They shift off and apart, sitting up on the sofa looking sheepish and definitely rumpled. Tony glances at his chinos with a moue of disgust, then grabs one of the pillows to cover his lap. "Okay, that is . . . embarrassing."

Pepper is raking fingers through her hair and biting her lips. This is what she was afraid of; the aftermath. This is the point at which Tony runs off to his basement and . . . . and, she should be ushering *herself* out the door?

Suddenly, despite the glorious, wild, incredible half hour before, she feels close to tears. Pepper risks a glance at Tony.

He's looking at her with that dark espresso gaze of his, deep and steady. "I love you."

She loses it; a big sob escapes. Pepper is mortified, stunned. She bends forward, but never makes it; Tony pulls her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her tightly, letting her cry against his shoulder, and Pepper does, all the doubt and fear washing away in hot tears.

It's soothing, to be held, and she relaxes very gradually, the crying fading away into a few hiccups eventually. Pepper doesn't want to pull up from the warm, damp haven she has against Tony's neck, where the scent and taste of him comfort her. She feels his hands along her back, stroking gently, slowly.

Pepper sighs, and knows it's coming. She's avoided it for so long, and now she shifts her face ever so slightly and lets her lips graze his ear. "And I love you."

Tony's hand along her spine presses her closer; she feels his sharp intake of breath. "God, yes. *Finally*."

Now she wants to laugh and cry. "Finally?"

Tony pulls back to look into her wet face, his own none too composed. "Look, you made the first move, but I *said* it first, and frankly, I've felt it longer. Believe me; three months in a cave tends to clear out a lot of mental bullshitting. I loved you before Afghanistan, I loved you during my time there, and I sure as hell loved you afterwards."

Pepper's chin wobbles a little, but instead of crying, she tightens her grip around him, hugging Tony *hard,* as if she'll never let him go.

And Tony blinks, a few hot tears of his own dripping into her hair.

000ooo000ooo000

Twenty minutes later, Pepper is in a pair of Tony's sweatpants and an old MIT tee-shirt, feeling self-conscious and slightly embarrassed as Butterfingers carries her dress off to the laundry. Tony is in another pair of sweats and a Laker's cut-off jersey, barefoot as he pads around the kitchen. "Look, I'm really sorry. Melted butter comes out of most fabrics though, right?"

She shrugs. "Maybe. In hot water, with enough detergent."

"I believe the garment can be salvaged with immediate intervention," Jarvis offers. "Although the wash and dry cycles will take approximately ninety to a hundred and twenty minutes for full efficacy."

Tony goes to the fridge and gets two beers, bringing one of the bottles over and uncapping it by wrapping the hem of his jersey around the top and twisting. It gives a hiss and he hands it to her. "I'm not letting you go anywhere with an oil slick on your ass."

"Those days are over?" Pepper shoots back at him, her smile a twisted grin. Tony scowls, and she comes over to him rubbing his shoulder. "Believe me, butter is nothing. It took me *days* to get all the silly string out of my hair at your last birthday party."

They both grin at the memory of miles of the multicolored strands everywhere in the mansion, clinging to walls and artwork and ceiling and Rhodey.

Mostly Rhodey, in fact.

Tony gives a happy sigh. "That *was* . . . pretty unforgettable."

"That was outrageous, juvenile and . . . . fun," Pepper admits, moving back to her side of the island. "And a very big mess to clean up."

Tony shrugs. "Yeah, well—still worth it."

Pepper takes a long pull on her beer, then looks over at Tony, who is leaning on the island, looking at her, his expression sweet and a little dazed. "No, I'm not staying the night, Tony. That's *far* too much . . . temptation."

His expression shifts. "Even if I promised not to . . . you know."

"Even if," Pepper tells him, adding primly, "I can't trust myself around you."

He pumps a victorious fist into the air and dances around for a moment gleefully; the sight makes Pepper laugh, and splutter up a little beer in the process. Tony looks up at the ceiling hopefully. "Jarvis, second date?"

"That is scheduled for Friday. You are to have dinner together at El Rosale."

"Er—" Pepper blinks in panic; the restaurant is very popular, often crowded, and hardly the place to dine, unnoticed.

"You will both wear disguises for the evening, thus permitting the two of you a modicum of social privacy," Jarvis continues. "I have serveral templates to choose from."

"Disguises?" Tony cocks his head, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "I never thought you had subterfuge it in your programing."

"Given my day-to-day duties, a learned survival skill," the AI responds, "sir."

"You know, the opposite of an upgrade is a downgrade," Tony silkily threatens.

"Threats are fairly useless since your own sense of logic would never permit you to carry out such an action," Jarvis points out. "And in any case, I know I have the support of Miss Potts."

Tony looks over at Pepper, who nods guiltily. "Jarvis is . . . irreplaceable, and you know it, Tony."

"Oh fine, fine; take *his* side," Tony sulks, crossing his arms and looking petulant. "Nice to know where your *true* loyalties lie."

"Stop behaving like a four-year old," Pepper tells him cheerily, "And show me the plans again for the greenhouse again, pretty please?"

Tony softens into a smile, shifting gears with eagerness, and trots out of the kitchen towards the garage. Pepper follows him more slowly, watching him with tenderness.