fandomtownies | The Park, Saturday Afternoon

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The Park, Saturday Afternoon

The day was gorgeous - sunny and crisp and cool, but not so cool that people would need coats or sweaters. There were some discrete space heaters set up for those who had chosen not to wear sleeves with their formalwear.

A light breeze was there to lift hair that wasn't pinned or sprayed into position. Birds sang. Chairs were set up, divided by a long center aisle. There was even a small section towards the front with little piles of nuts and bottles of rum - Vala and Barney had both done radio at one time or another, plus it just made sense to make nice to the squirrels.

The wedding party had yet to take their places, so the atmosphere was open and relaxed, if a bit anticipatory.

[ooc: Open to all, but ~~please wait for~~ OCD is now complete!]

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"Darn," Tyler said, patting his pocket for effect. "You drive a hard bargain."

"I'm worth it," Tony insisted.

"Oh?" Tyler grinned, trying to look like he didn't quite believe it.

"Stocks down or not, I am still worth over a billion in net income," Tony said, lifting his chin proudly.

"But wouldn't you make me sign a pre-nup?"

"You'd get a few million in case of divorce." No one could say he wasn't fair. Nice, no.

"That's a few million more than I have, so we'll call it fair," Tyler informed him. "I get the cat, too."

... he didn't know what cat.

"You have a cat?"

Tyler shook his head. "But doesn't that always happen? People get committed, they get married, they start buying animals or popping out brats."

"But you teach. That should fulfill any paternal urges, right?"

Oh, he needed to stop actually thinking about this.

Tyler gave him a dirty look. "I have the opposite of paternal urges. At least in high school they're mostly grown."

"More paternal than me," Tony replied. "I have robots and a surly A.I."

"I wish my dad had stopped at robots and an AI," Tyler grumped, almost unprovoked. "He took off when I was about six, married somebody else, had another kid. Five years later, same thing. He was on family number four last time I heard from him."

There was a tiny smile. "I don't wanna make a new person and find out I can match his record."

Tony held out the flask. "On please. You'd be a great father. You handle children all the time. I--"

He frowned.

"--I'm not the child-raising type. Clearly."

"I show teenagers how to blow shit up," Tyler said, waving it off. "If any of them think of me as a parent figure, I would puke." And he was ignoring what the M&M group called him.

"Besides, I'm crazy. I'm not dumping that on someone else."

"You" -- this required he jab a finger at Tony -- "you are about a thousand times more stable than I am. And you'd hire a better nanny."

"I have a mechanical suit that I use like I'm some sort of vigilante hero," Tony replied dryly. "And, while I could hire a nanny... I'm sure my mother would be rolling in her grave at the thought of that."

Tyler stopped having his emo moment long enough to give Tony a slightly startled look. "Your mom wasn't the nanny type?" he asked.

He thought it went with being rich.

"She was old fashioned," Tony said dismissively. "I was the late in life baby."

This was very possibly the first time either of them had acknowledged not being hatched from an egg.

Weird.

"Only child?" Tyler asked. "Me too, unless you count my dad's ... whatever." He didn't really think of them as siblings.

"Only one I know of," Tony replied, almost surprised with how much sharing was happening here. "My father... was a very important man to the weapons industry since World War II."

And now Tyler was just going to look at Tony for a second, out of the corner of his eyes.

"Did you feel like you had a choice about what to do?" he asked. "Not to go all therapist on you."

Tony shrugged, finding a spot to look at that was somewhere near the alter. "I'm good at building weapons."

"I know," Tyler said quietly, and there might have been more he wanted to ask, but, really, you could only do so much sharing before you should just go to a support group where people might pretend to care.

~~In the land of strikethrough, he reached to pull Tony into a tender embrace, wanting to run his hands through Tony's ebony locks.~~

~~Which was good, because Tony sobbed gently against his perfectly muscular chest, breathing in the scent of love and goatee.~~

Or maybe a therapy session where you spent the entire time trying to get into the therapist's very nice pencil skirt.

"I think this calls for real drinks," Tony said, leaning over to stay quiet as to not let anyone in on these plans. "After the ceremony."

~~Tyler sniffed deeply, breathing in the spicy-sweet scent of cinnamon and roses that he recognized as the odor of love. "Darling," he cooed softly.~~

"I'm on it," Tyler said, with a firm nod. He passed the flask back to Tony as a temporizing move.

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