“I can’t believe this actually came up.” Jim settled back against the couch cushions and pulled Tony more firmly into his lap. Tony’s first desperate grab had left him hugging Jim’s thighs more than anything else, which wasn’t the most comfortable position for either of them, but after a few minutes of sustained contact he’d been able to relax his grip enough for them to shuffle backwards towards the couch like the world’s most awkward middle schoolers doing a two-step with their hands in each other’s pockets.
“Hey, futurist, remember?” Tony’s voice was almost back to normal. “I made the medical consent forms fifty-seven pages long for a reason. There is literally no contingency too ridiculous to actually happen in our lives. But I have to admit, this isn’t the one I thought we’d run into first. Sex pollen, maybe, but cuddle pollen? Not what I would have predicted.”
“Please stop calling it cuddle pollen.”
“What would you prefer, snuggle slime? Contact compulsion? Hug-happy juice?”
“Point made, objection retracted, stop talking.” Jim rubbed the back of Tony’s head, and Tony sighed and smushed his face into Jim’s neck.
“Thanks for coming,” Tony mumbled. “Bruce and Dr. Cho are analyzing it now, they should have an estimated duration soon. All else fails, Pepper’s flying back after her meeting in Shanghai wraps up, so she can take a shift.”
“There’s no rush. I’m officially on duty right now providing medical aid to a comrade in arms. They’re not going to retask me until it’s worn off.”
“Awesome. Movie marathon?”
“I haven’t seen The Martian yet.”
“Perfect.” Tony turned around so they were both facing the screen descending from the ceiling, tugging Jim’s arms around his stomach to keep as much body contact as possible. Jim rested his chin on Tony’s shoulder. “Cue it up, JARVIS.”