Gone

                                                                     we’re undivided;                                                                                     we belong each and every way.

THREE CHAPTERS OUT! Have you read it yet? If not, FOLLOW THIS LINK for chapter one!

Rhodey: Go ahead

Tony: Tooth hurty

Rhodey: When is the best time to go to the dentist?

He’s gonna be honest, he didn’t really expect a yes. So, uh, Tony should be excused for kind of… blinking at the other with a blank facial expression. Until James, Jim, smiles and offers his hand, which unfreezes Tony, even though he still takes the offered hand and shakes it purely on autopilot.

“Oh, uh, yes, it is, actually,” he says, sounding a little out of it, “always go by Tony though. Do you want the ‘y’, too? You could be Rhodey. ‘Cause there’s too many Jimmys already. I mean, James is cool, too, but you know– I think the next stop might be yours.”

Is he still holding Jim’s hand?

Yes. Yes, he is. Oops. Tony coughs, and lets go. “So, uh. If I am not paying you, how ‘bout I just– feed you? I mean, I don’t cook. Nothing edible, anyways. But I know all the restaurants. Someone told me all college students like free food.”

        Yeah - the way this kid keeps lagging, he definitely needs a nap. Jim, he’s always been the kind of person to look after others anyway. His friends back home kept trying to embarrass him with a whole bunch of mother hen type of jokes but, joke’s on them, James never took actual offence to them. It’s kind of how he was, how he’d always been. He was the most in his element when he was worrying over someone.

        Turns out, first thing he does coming to New York is adopt a grown-ass kid. Wonderful.

    “What, Tony and Rhodey, like a, I dunno - a magical girl group?” The way he chuckles out a laugh at that, though, implies he isn’t opposed to the idea. Rhodey. He kinda likes that. Tony’s next notion suddenly snaps him awake; shit, he’s right. “Oh, uh. It is. Look, I cook, so,” Cue a shrug, as he stands up. Tosses his back bag over his shoulder. “Wanna tag along? It’s a few hours before the whole info bullcrap starts anyway. I’ll cook something small, we can chat.” You can nap. “We’ll say you owe me.”

“Willpower and caffeine?” Tony suggests, flopping down onto the headrest of his seat, biting his lips even as he grins back at the other. “I like you. Are you starting at MIT, too? Oh, man, maybe I should move into the dorms, I didn’t think there would be– cool people.”

He pauses, looks at the other from below his lashes. “Wanna be friends? I can pay you for that, too. Sit next to me in classes, if we have classes together, or grab lunch together, that kinda thing, would be cool to have someone–” he interrupts himself with a big yawn, then carries on immediately, apparently unbothered, “you really just, look really good, though, you do know that, right? That’s not just me going crazy from lack of sleep, I don’t think. Is it– was that too creepy, the, money for sitting at my place thing? Because you didn’t answer the question yet but you don’t need to answer if it was too creepy. An’ if we share classes you can use my books, too, I do speed-reading, so. I’m Tony, by the way!”

        Jim lets the guy talk - he’s never been that talkative himself, anyway. Besides, it better gives him time to try and figure him out. As far as he can tell, there’s probably some kinda anxiety issues going on, there; some sorta social awkwardness. No-one just plain asks someone if they wanna be their friend past, what, kindergarten?

        Yet somehow, he fails to find that disturbing. It’s kind of endearing, really. This awkward, handsome, lonely and tired out of his mind kid just... Trying to make it at a new school. Rhodey lets out a short laugh. Shakes his head.

    “Sure. Don’t exactly know anyone here, either.” A pause. “And, no, you don’t gotta pay me. I ain’t that kinda girl.” Even what with his nice bone structure and whatever. “Relax, Tony. I’m a black kid from West Philadelphia, I’m real good at avoiding danger by creepy white dudes by now. You’re good.” Cue a chuckle. Rhodes, quickly, figuring out if he should just let Tony crash on a mattress at his dorm at the end of the day. Dude looked like Hell.

Nicknames Tony Stark gives people

Bonus:

Tony blinks at the other, and then clamps a hand over his mouth, which doesn’t help at all - if anything, the giggles become worse. Oh, god. Great. Amazing. Here he is, in front of the dude he’s pretty sure he wants to ask to see Star Wars with him, and he’s just giggling like a lunatic.

In an attempt to make it stop, Tony burrows his nose in the seat fabric, which is, in hindsight, a terrible idea, he could’ve lived happily without ever smelling a bus seat in his life, god. It doesn’t make the giggles stop, either.

No, what makes the giggles stop is that, at some point, he doesn’t have the air to keep going. “Oh, shit,” he says, leaning against the window, wiping a tear out of his eye, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t sleep the last… two days? I think? I’m not entirely sure what day it is, and I had four shots of espresso this morning already, I’ll say anything. It’s– it’s just–” he waves vaguely in the direction of the stranger’s face, “uh, you have– nice– bone structure…? I mean.”

He pauses, smiles a little bit, gives a shrug. “I swear, I can be smooth, but not today, today I’m apparently gonna offer you money for sitting. With clothes. Although, if you wanna strip, who’m I to stop you, right? America, blah blah– oh, uh, where do you get off?”

        Alrighty - the serial killer is giggling like a madman. Strangers are now visibly withdrawing away from him - stepping to the other end of the bus, giving him a cautious, annoyed look. Hey, Rhodes can relate to that.

        He can’t help but grin himself, eventually. Shake his head, breathe out a chuckle, rub his forehead. God, the first person he properly meets in this city, and it’s a lunatic. Sounds about right for him, though, huh? “Jesus, dude, how are you alive,” he asks, first and foremost. Jim himself was so in love with the bed that you couldn’t keep him awake for two days straight if you tried.

        (That’s a lie, by the way. Give him a broken engine and a pot of coffee and he’ll stay awake over the entire weekend.)

         Eh, at least his bone structure is getting compliments, or something. He snorts. “Uh, thanks? You’ll forgive me if I don’t entirely buy the smooth part,” Jim replies, then. There’s clear signs of amusement on his features, though. Eyeing the kid before him, trying to evaluate what exactly was his deal. His clothes were too nice to be a homeless person or anything, so - what gives?