Title: Victory Dance
Author: Del Rion
Fandom: Iron Man (MCU)
Genre: Fluff, general
Rating: K+ / FRC
Characters: J.A.R.V.I.S., Tony Stark (Iron Man). Mentioned: Pepper Potts, Tony's bots (DUM-E and U).
Summary: After saving many lives and living to tell the tale, Tony expresses his joy at being alive. J.A.R.V.I.S. reciprocates.
Complete. Part of the "Genius, AI & Bots" series.
Written for: My card on Trope Bingo's round 2 (square: "celebratory kiss")
Warnings: Mild profanities.
Disclaimer: Iron Man and Marvel Cinematic Universe, including characters and everything else, belong to Marvel, Marvel Studios, Jon Favreau and Paramount Pictures. In short: I own nothing; this is pure fiction created to entertain likeminded fans for no profit whatsoever.
Story and status: Below you see the writing process of the story. If there is no text after the title, then it is finished and checked. Possible updates shall be marked after the title.
. . .
Written for my card on Trope Bingo's round 2 (square: "celebratory kiss")
Saving falling jumbo jets didn't happen every day. Smaller aircrafts, sure, but a proper Boeing 737 full of passengers? It was a rare treat, and to be completely honest, this had been Tony's first.
That was why being successful had been crucial: had he failed, over a hundred people would have lost their lives as a result… He chose not to think about that. There was enough unpleasantness in his life, and he didn't need to linger on things that hadn't actually happened.
When he landed in the workshop, he was shaking a little. The adrenaline rush, when he, too, had come out of the rescue alive, had been insane, and he was still coming down from the high. Just before he and the plane hit the ground, Tony had been certain the strain would be too much for the suit and his legs would be crushed as he tried to slow down the airplane's descent.
He was alive and well, though; no bones crushed. Mark 8 had handled the stress, and save for some bumps and bruises and a few panic attacks, the passengers and crew were all fine.
As the armor opened, Tony stumbled out, realizing his shaking wasn't about to stop anytime soon.
"Hell yeah!" he shouted and fist-bumped the air, despite some aches in his body from supporting the plane for almost half an hour as he stabilized it and helped it to land safely.
The workshop was quiet around him.
Tony pursed his lips, fist still raised. How come there was no one home in his moment of victory? He knew Pepper was in the office, her day booked with meetings, but he really, really wanted to share his success with someone.
Where the hell were the bots?
Lowering his arm, Tony still felt giddy with a lingering sense of tension and the rush of survival.
Well, fuck it.
He turned, just as Mark 8 finished assembling itself behind him. Tony grinned, looking at the armor – and stepped towards it to grasp its head and kiss it where the mouth would be on the faceplate. It satisfied him somewhat, to physically express his contentment and relief. Also, to be frank, he and the armor had done it together so he supposed it was only fair –
Something curled around his waist and Tony jumped in alarm, yet he couldn't move far in the circle of… arms?
With his heart beating in his throat, Tony realized the armor was hugging him back, and it felt like the glowing eyes were regarding him.
"J.A.R.V.I.S.?" Tony called out.
"It seemed like the thing to do, sir," the AI responded.
"You almost gave me a heart attack!"
"My apologies." The armor's hands moved away, falling back to Mark 8's sides.
Tony gave a weird full-body twitch – possibly a reaction to the small scare that had interfered with his earlier high. "Well, that was…" He didn't quite have the word for it.
"Weird, sir?" J.A.R.V.I.S. offered.
"Not as weird as it should have been," Tony admitted, then turned as he heard the bots approaching. "Where were you guys?" he demanded and marched past them to get cleaned up. "Give Mark 8 a full scan and make a damage assessment," he told his AI.
"Of course, sir," the familiar voice replied – completely back to normal – and Tony had to allow himself a small smile and a shake of his head.