Chapter 11
Harry hums, head tilting to the side in some kind of consideration technique. “I don’t think this is a good idea. Or well thought out.”
But Tony’s bouncing on his heels now, which he hasn’t done since…actually scratch that, he does that all the time. Caffeine addict, see.
“It’s one of the best ideas I’ve had in a while, and that’s saying something. I don’t know if you know this, but I’m kind of a genius.”
“That is the consensus,” Harry shakes her head, amusement written all over every feature. “And yet, if people were to see what you have in mind, I doubt you would keep that certain title.”
Tony sniffs, raising his chin. “This is an amazing idea. Seriously, imagine Rhodey coming in the diner, being all ‘where you been, man?’ Then bam! He sees it and like, faints or something.”
“I just think turning you into a mermaid would not be wise in covering my status as a wizard.”
Tony flaps a hand; this idea has really notched up his ego levels. He doubts Einstein had a magical friend. He knows, seeing as there are no photos of Einstein as a merman.
He’s checked. Twice.
“We can always lie. Be all, what are you talking about? And for the rest of his life he’ll live with the fact that for a brief second, he fantasised about his BFF as Ariel.”
Harry laughs, a sound very appealing to Tony’s ears.
“It’s truly a terrible idea. From what I’ve gathered, Rhodey is a smart man with an open mind.”
“How come he gets to be a man? I’m man material, I’ll show you later.”
“Pervert.”
“Is that a blush? You’re totally blushing.”
“You know you ramble even more when you’re nervous?” Harry states, neglecting to acknowledge the fact that her cheeks are apple red. He’s pretty victorious about that, he won’t lie.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Harry quirks an eyebrow at that; he’s positive she has a Bullshit Detector stashed somewhere.
Tony sighs, shrugging to play it off. It’s no big deal.
“It’s nothing serious. After the, um, crash, I kind of pushed people away. Rhodey didn’t let me, he’s resilient like that. But. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him and been happy.”
Harry stares at him for a long moment, understanding fleeting in her gaze before her expression closes off.
“It was stupid. Forget it. I’m gonna take a shower, brush my pearly whites.” He makes for the door, embarrassment and shame weighing his stomach down. He’s such an idiot.
“Tony.” He immediately stops in his tracks, turning around. Harry looks hesitant, her arms folded around one another, before she speaks.
“When I lived with my aunt and uncle, they told me my parents had died in a car crash. My aunt implied drinking had been involved.” She can’t coat the undercurrents of anger, and if Tony spoke right now, he wouldn’t be able to either.
“It wasn’t true, I know that now, but I believed it for years. I suppose I’m telling you this, because, I know I’ll never fully understand what you’ve been through, with the crash I mean. But I will always be here if you want to talk about it with someone who even remotely gets it.”
A few weeks back, Tony would’ve said something witty, played it off. But this is Harry.
“Do you miss them?” He asks her softly, not wanting to know and yet needing to more than anything. Harry smiles them, comprehension fleeting in her guise.
“Of course. The ache becomes distant, but I always will.” She comes up to him and cradles his face, her thumbs sweeping the lines that have formed. “If Rhodey is as good a man as you say, he’ll understand that everyone can be vulnerable, that pushing people away was a coping mechanism. There’s nothing to be nervous about, yeah?”
Tony places his hands over Harry’s savouring the touch.
“Yeah. Yeah I can do this.”
------------------------------
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were about to have a nervous breakdown.”
He doesn’t mean to be a prick, but he decides to ignore Harry’s statement; ringing in his ears have pretty much drowned out his hearing. If he were to speak, it would most likely come out as a shout, and that would attract attention he doesn’t want. His leg is vibrating from all the tapping, which would piss anyone and their dog off. But Harry’s a saint, apparently.
A hand finds his arm, giving him an encouraging squeeze. He’s practically moulded himself next to her at the booth of the diner; if a waiter came to take their order they would probably think they’re medically attached. But, who cares.
“It’ll be fine.”
“I know. Genius, remember?”
The hand on his arm slowly trails down to rest on his thigh, stopping his drumming. And Tony feels significantly less nervous, since all the blood that was chilling in his brain have planned to go on a trip to…lower regions.
But Rhodey’s a hero at heart; Tony hears the confident footsteps behind him that can only be labelled to one person.
“Yay,” Tony mutters, plopping an excited wet kiss on Harry’s cheek and rising up to greet his brother.
“Tony,” Rhodey sighs, a warm, almost relieved smile on his face as he saunters towards the table. That’s always a good sign with his Chocolate Chip Cookie; he will never smile if he doesn’t mean it.
Opposite end of the spectrum to Tony, honestly.
Tony’s immediately out of his chair, more earnest than he usually cares to show, and pretty much falls into Rhodey’s arms like a damsel in distress. He doesn’t realise the extent to which he missed him until this moment. It feels so damn good being back with his brother.
“Can’t believe you’re back in one piece.” He looks Tony up and down, 100% scouting for injuries. Tony swears, if Rhodey even saw a paper cut he’d be lecturing his poor, victimised self while calling him an idiot.
“I’m the poster boy for excellent life decision, Coffee Cake.”
Rhodey snorts, “yeah, the before in the poster. I’d be the after, don’t even try to deny it, move on, it’s over.” His expression hardens. “You good, Tones?”
Knowing Rhodey, the complete change in topic isn’t a surprise. He also knows that he probably got that trait from Tony. Or Tony got it from him. Probably the latter, whatever.
Tony answers him with an honest nod; he hopes the sincerity comes across well, but he’s never been the best at showing his real feelings.
But he must do, because Rhodey gives him the rarely given Rhodey Beam, dimples peaking from the corner of his mouth and eyes so very warm. They then lock with a gaze below Tony, and though they’re still warm, there’s a wall of reservation that’s been built in the last two seconds.
That’s his Rhodey. Soldier by day, bodyguard by lunch time breaks.
“If this asshole hasn’t spoken about me.” Rhodey brings his hand to meet Harry’s which she accepts with an easy grin. Tony now feels something else, something like pride.
When they met, Harry was reluctant to touch anyone.
He’s so a mother hen. They grow so fast.
“Oh believe me, you’re all he talks about.” Harry replies with faux irritation. He notes that Rhodey’s smile widens.
“Tony didn’t mention you were British.”
“No no no, I’ll handle the introductions here. Okay, presenting, the light of my life, my knight in shining armour, the apple of my eye, my ride or die. And Rhodey, meet Harry. Oh!” He covers his hands over Harry’s ears, speaking in a loud stage whisper. “Don’t make pop culture references, she won’t understand any of them. It would be best not to upset her.” He removes his hands and ruffles her hair for good measure.
Harry turns to Rhodey, both of them sharing some sort of exasperated glance.
It’s only then that Tony realises that this may have been a terrible idea.
He sits with a premeditated huff.
“So he talks about me all the time, huh?” Rhodey says as he breezily sits down too, his voice pretty much dripping with satisfaction.
“So much so that I feel like a fan.” Harry teases, tapping her foot with Tony’s under the table. She’s so obviously challenging him, and he’s always loved winning.
“It’s all lies. I had to give her the run down two minutes before you showed up. Before that she totally thought your name was Donald. Or was it Grayson?”
Rhodey seems to have caught on to whatever they’re doing (even he doesn’t really know most of the time.) He also seems to think it’s his life mission to…embarrass Tony to death? Damn, he hasn’t been gone that long.
“I guess we’re at an impasse. Our one of three phone calls,” he gives Tony a look that Tony knows is a ‘we’ll talk about that later’ promise. (Shit.) “Had Tony talking about you the whole time.”
No.
“False,” Tony declares. “Untrue, invalid, etcetera. I give and I give”-
“Oh, Rhodey.” Rhodey, the traitor, imitates his voice. “She’s so cool, Rhodey, she’s got an air about her. Harry this, Harry that.”
“My friends are compulsive liars.” Tony announces, a bit louder than intended if the looks he’s getting from strangers by the booth are any indication.
“Compulsive liars aren’t cool, Tony.” Harry nudges him with a sly grin. “Don’t contradict yourself.”
Rhodey laughs, head slightly tipped back. He points his finger at Harry. “I get it now,” his eyes less guarded than before.
Huh. Maybe it wasn’t such a terrible idea after all.
-------------------------------
Tony will never have any ideas again.
“So I’m by the gate, sobering up by the minute while Tony’s still got the pig in his hand. And he’s waxing some lyrical shit about how the cage was already open when he got there, and how the animals gave him no choice. Then Tony, being a dumbass, tells the guy, ‘Oh, didn’t you know? They call me the pig whisperer.”
Harry’s shoulders are shaking in hysterics. Tony is regretting having friends.
They know too much.
“And what did the farmer say?”
“He goes, ‘who’s they’? And what does the fucker of all fuckers do? Points at my drunk ass.”
Tony puts a word in before Harry, he doesn’t know, pisses herself or something.
“My genius saved us from prison.”
“Your genius got you doing community service and a restraining order.”
Even Tony can’t prevent the twitch of his lips. “Some people just can’t accept greatness.”
Rhodey looks up, as if the heavens are sympathising. His pecan pie is a capital Drama Queen.
“How he hasn’t died yet is beyond me.” He tells Harry, who genuinely nods her head at that, like it’s something she’s thought about too.
“He’s certainly a walking miracle.”
Like he said. He needs new friends.
“Pfft. Don’t challenge me, Potter.” He casually wraps his arm around her shoulder, ignoring the way Rhodey’s eyes snap to the movement with curiosity. “I could tell my toffee crunch here all your finest hours. If someone saw half the shit you’ve done you’d have a reality tv show.”
“I’m not the one who helped a woman give birth,” Harry sings, because she’s a little shit.
Rhodey chokes on air. “That was a real story?”
“All my achievements are concrete, baby.” He’s still proud about that incident, even if the pregnant women ordering food on the left is giving him hives. He looks down at Harry’s pleased grin.
“I didn’t invite you here to stir the shit pot.”
Harry adopts an innocent mask. “I don’t know what on earth you mean.”
“You’re evil.”
“A terrible influence, one could say.”
“Not to mention bat shit crazy.”
“I must be. I stayed with you, didn’t I?”
“Yeah you did.” He knows he’s beaming, sees her beaming too, and yet he can’t pull away from her. They just stare at each other with ridiculously stupid grins on their faces.
She’s still here.
Yeah. She must be crazy.
(He’s glad she is.)
“Hey”, they both snap their heads to look at Rhodey, who’s watching them with an odd guise that Tony can’t identify. “Worst hosts ever. Pay attention to your guest who refuses to third wheel,” he picks up his menu. “A burger sounds good. That diet they got me on, I’m getting extra fries.”
--------------------------------
It’s one of the weirdest meals he’s ever had.
Rhodey and Harry exchange stories here and there, all about yours truly, but it slowly evolves into something different. Harry talks a bit about herself (albeit a really, really censored version that leaves gaps filled with unknown information.) Rhodey gives her some details, though his job is strictly off limits. Bless his professional soul.
It’s nice though.
His two favourite people together, just talking. It’s like two worlds colliding, except Tony doesn’t mind the result.
He wonders if his mom would have liked Harry.
Actually, he doesn’t need to wonder. She’d adore her. It’s a bittersweet thought, yet the sweet is the majority in the ratio.
“So,” Rhodey starts, and Tony can see Rhodey going places in the military. His voice is that commanding, he’d have goose bumps if he didn’t know his Rhodey bean was secretly a cuddly teddy bear. “What’s the plan between you two now?”
Tony blinks. Considering Harry hasn’t said anything as well, he knows she’s had a similar reaction.
“Uh, well. We wanna continue?” He peers at Harry, so much he wants to say. “I know I want to.”
Harry stares back, opening her mouth and closing it with a snap. She flushes (aww) and nods determinedly, fiddling with her napkin.
Rhodey leans back on his chair, taking a sip of his beer. (He’s gone all out on the Fuck Military Diets, it’s a sight to see.) “Still going round the world then. Your staying this weekend though. Sort of got a surprise for you.”
“Oh?”
Rhodey flashes his teeth. “I’ll explain after I finish my food. Give me some time, man.”
“Right, well whenever you’re ready, I’ll be a maiden in the tower waiting for my handsome messenger to….yeah I’m done with that metaphor. I’m gonna go pee.”
It probably wasn’t the best plan, leaving them two together.
He comes back to see Rhodey and Harry in a discussion. He’d almost say it looks heated; Rhodey’s leaning forward with an unwaveringly stony counter. Harry meanwhile is sitting up straight, hands laced together. Her expression barely gives anything away, but Tony knows her well enough to see she looks. Almost pleased?
“You planning on hitching to Vegas? Leaving my poor innocent self to deal with the cheque? Cold hearted, the both of you.” He saunters to the table, even more confused when neither of them reacts to his presence. Hello? Anyone home?
“We were just clearing things up,” Rhodey replies, eyes never leaving Harry’s.
Harry nods respectfully. “I’m happy with how we settled it.”
A corner of Rhodey’s lip turns up. “Same here.”
Harry turns to Tony then (finally), a satisfied smile on her visage. “I’ll be off to the loo myself. Give you some time alone.” She flashes him a wink; Tony’s taken back to them being flushed down a toilet. And tries not to laugh with induced mania.
(They got flushed down a fucking toilet. Tony needs a diary ASAP.)
When Harry leaves, Tony turns to Rhodey with an accusing glare. “What did you say to her?”
Rhodey’s expression reveals nothing. “We had the chat.”
A beat.
“The pardon of begging?”
He sighs. “It’s really between us two, Tones. I’m not a dictionary, get your own information.”
“You’re too sassy for me, pain au chocolat.” His speech turns hard. “Is she upset?”
But nothing gets passed his BFF. If anything, Rhodey looks amused. “You coming after her honour? I knew this day would come.”
“Rhodey.”
“She’s fine, Tones. Doesn’t seem like the type to break after a…stern talking to.” Tony glares at him, and once again it has no impact.
Ugh. First Patrick, now his Rhodeycake? Has he lost all his intimidation? He’ll ask Harry later.
“Question is, how are you?”
There’s a lot he wants to tell him, when he asks that. Tony wants to scream from the top of his merry lungs everything that’s happened. Not bad screaming, but the kind where you need to say something at a high pitch because you just want to be heard.
So, Rhodey baby. Harry’s a witch. Like, the most famous of witches, and she lives in a world of magical beings. There was a war and she was the face of it because apparently no adult wanted to protect a fucking teenager, and she lost friends and family to save said adults’ cowardly asses. Oh, but that’s not it, because bounty hunters are after her and one lucky little creep kidnapped both of us, and after Harry saved us with her magical powers she was tempted to run out the door and protect my unworthy self, but I told her not to. Because I’m her man, because as much as I want to deny it, wherever she goes, there’s no way in hell I’m not following.
But Tony will always try and be loyal to his friends. He’s zipping his mouth and saying fuck all.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Tony’s careful here; he knows Rhodey can shut down when he’s questioned about his job. He never wants to make him uncomfortable. Ever.
Rhodey stares at him unflinchingly, almost appraisingly. If he wasn’t Rhodey, Tony would be resorting to his media persona.
“I’m good. But I’m not the one who left town with a virtual stranger.” In a softer tone, “I’m not the one who lost people close to him.”
Tony feels his airwaves begin to clench shut. His hand grasps for something; it’s only when he feels nothing but the air does he realise his own source of comfort left to go to the bathroom.
“I’m better, Rhodey.” Once again, he tries to force his sincerity to come through. It’s pretty fucked, that he has to force honesty, but. What can you do.
“You seem better,” his best friend nods decidedly, lines on his forehead easing before Tony’s very eyes. “Lighter. I was wrong, you know. Turns out those months away were good for you.”
“I don’t think it was the road trip that helped.” Tony tells him, before his brain can keep up with the words and hold them down.
“I like her.” Rhodey announces in the silence that follows. It’s hard to not perk up at that.
“Of course you do. Who doesn’t, apart from creepy weirdos dressed in black, a couple of dark lords here and there. A woman in labour, some crabby receptionist…”
“She’s genuine.” Rhodey says firmly, ignoring Tony’s excellent points. Most likely for the best, though. “Treats you good, makes you smile. Definitely in love with you.”
All Tony can do is gape.
What.
Tony splutters after a while, finding himself suddenly dehydrated. “She’s not in love with me.”
Rhodey is so amused he’s not even trying to mask it. Asshole.
“Okay. She’s not in love with you.” He shrugs carelessly.
“Why would you say that?” The curiosity is so evident in his voice he’s legitimately cringing himself out.
“Nah, forget it, if you don’t believe it, it can’t be true. You’re the genius here, I’m just an innocent bystander.”
He came today meeting his friend. He’s leaving today with an enemy.
“You think she’s in love with me? Don’t be greedy, sugar plum, spill the gossip.”
“Woah. We reunite for five minutes and you become the Spanish Inquisition, damn.”
“The Spanish Inquisition hunted down witches, you know.” He informs him, way too bright for such a morbid subject.
Rhodey’s teasing countenance morphs into raised eyebrows. “Got something to bring to the table?”
“Nah. Private joke with little old me.” He remembers how he got to this point. “Come on, be a dear and share your reasoning.”
Rhodey shrugs again, as if it’s too simple. “Just the way she looks at you. Not hard to figure it out.”
Tony can’t help but feel a flash of disappointment course through him. He’s a scientist first and foremost, he’s gotta take more than one variable into account. And anyone can look the part, a sweep of the eyelashes doesn’t mean anything. He probably looks like that when food comes his way, or when he finishes the blue print for a prototype.
So, yeah. Disappointment. Not that he wants Harry to be in love with him. He doesn’t. Not at all. Nope.
Rhodey rolls his eyes at Tony’s most likely crestfallen expression (even though there’s nothing to be crestfallen about, Jesus) and stares at him, pride flashing across his eyes.
“I know you love her- nope, keep your wise comment to yourself - Tony, you look at her the same way she looks at you. So, however you’re feeling, I’m free of bullshit when I say she’s feeling that way too.”
His cheeks are blazing. It’s rare when someone leaves him struggling to find words; he can count on one hand the number of people that have had that affect over him.
Two of them, he tries not to think, are dead.
“You made the move yet?” Rhodey asks, then shakes his head soon after. “Nah, forget I asked. Way too much sexual tension for you to have done anything.”
“I’ll have you know, we’ve done stuff!”
“Oh, yeah?”
“That’s right, get on my level Rhodeo.” Tony’s next words are instantly regretted, and for really good reason. “We’ve held hands.”
Death. Death would be kinder.
Rhodey looks like he’s about to laugh but holds himself back, morphing into an expression that is so mock serious Tony’s reminded of every cartoon character ever.
“I see. With or without protection?”
He sniffs. “It’s not my fault you were never a pure soul.”
“Well call me when you manage to give her hand a squeeze, I’ll be on the edge of my seat.”
He sometimes forgets how much of a savage his platypus can be.
“Edge of your seat?” Both of them whip their chins up to see Harry standing before them, biting her lip in an adorable little grin.
Maybe Rhodey was right. He should, you know. Make a move?
“I was telling Tony over here,” Rhodey begins, Tony’s heart stops. “You should both invest in some gloves.”
Tony kicks him underneath the table.
“I got you something,” Rhodey continues airily, as if Tony’s kicks aren’t wicked as all hell. He takes his bag and brings out a meticulously wrapped present. It’s so Rhodey to be a perfectionist that Tony’s heart surges with fondness.
He’ll never know what he did to deserve the people surrounding him.
“Aww for me? My sweet guardian angel you shouldn’t have.”
Rhodey looks at him as if he’s daft. Which, occasionally accurate, but why now?
“Tones, I wouldn’t forget your birthday.”
Wait what?
“What?” Harry asks, gazing at Tony imploringly. “It’s your birthday?”
“What?” Tony turns to Rhodey. “It’s my birthday?”
“You haven’t checked the date?” Rhodey joins in, his tone laced with incredulity.
“Does it look like I’ve checked the date?” He gestures to his face.
Rhodey huffs, muttering something like sounds like ‘dumbass’ and ‘chaotic’. “It’s your birthday in two weeks. Good to know you’re both on top of things. Don’t open the gift yet, I just didn’t want it thrown on a pile at your birthday party.”
“My what?”
Rhodey actually looks regretful at that, which, good, he should be, before he hardens a glare at Poor Innocent Tony. “Yeah, think of this as payback for you deciding to haul ass for months, which, we still need to talk about. And don’t blame me, blame Summer, it was her idea.”
“Who?” Comes Harry’s sharp response. Tony cringes, Rhodey looks like a point of his has just been proven.
“It’s a party, Saturday night. I’ll text you the details when you buy a goddamn phone that works. And you’re going, both of you. Promise me, Tony.”
Discombobulated, all Tony can do is nod.
---------------------------
“Okay, I have an even better plan.”
Harry groans, “I am not turning you into a mermaid at a party.”
“Nope, nope we’re passed that now.” Tony’s grin is mischievous as hell, he knows, and he loves that Harry mirrors it right back at him.
“What are you thinking?”
Tony waits until the air is thick with suspense before he answers.
“I want long, curly hair.”
There’s a moment of silence, where Harry just breathes in, bemused. He doesn’t understand why, but he’ll find out.
“Out of all the magical things.”
“It’s decided. And it’s my birthday coming up, which means this is my gift. Shower me with long hair, babe, I’m ready.” He positions himself in a starfish, bracing himself for the impact. When nothing happens, he looks at Harry. She’s watching him like he’s the weirdest person she’s ever met.
Touché.
“Harry.”
She laughs, a sound so bright and easy he really does forget that her past is dark. And he knows people can overcome horrible things but seeing it in person is. Well, inspirational.
Rhodey’s right. He needs to make a move. And fast, in case she decides to, maybe elope? With someone she meets at the party.
Maybe the party isn’t a good idea. Actually, yeah, he knows it isn’t.
But for Rhodey. Always for Rhodey.
“Alright, I suppose I can try. Though I don’t have a spell book, it would perhaps be quite risky. I mean, I could fuck up, get spells confused. Accidentally turn you into a dog or something.”
“I would be on board with that. Provided I’m not a pug. Or a poodle. If I became a chihuahua I’d never talk to you again, just a heads up.”
Still, Harry looks reluctant. “I’m really not sure about this.”
Tony holds his hands up. “No pressure. But I, uh, believe in you. So if you do do it, I’d be up in your face telling you I told you so. But no pressure.”
She straightens, fiddling with her wand. (It’s super cool, he won’t get too into it but she has a fucking wand, he’s swooning.) “I was wrong. You are the worst possible influence anyone could imagine.”
Ah, success! Tony’s getting hyped up. “Make me Rapunzel, babe.”
---------------------------
Tony sits back up with a stiff neck.
Honestly, using magic? Sounds like fun, sounds like every cult leader’s wet dream. Not that Tony’s a cult leader, though there’s probably a few organisations dedicated in Tony’s name, he wouldn’t complain if he found that out. Creeped out as hell, but he wouldn’t take it down. Unless they, he doesn’t know, sacrificed shit in his name? That would be a red flag for sure.
How did he get here?
Ah, yes. Using magic sounds awesome, but reality is something else. Tony’s palms press against his forehead in pain. Last thing he remembers was Harry hesitantly muttering a spell while he waited for his luscious locks to come into play. He would look so good; it’s a shame he wasn’t born in the sixties. He and Harry could have rented a caravan and everything.
But his neck is in pain and everything feels weird; it’s only when he audibly groans does he halt in his movement of sitting up. Because that does not sound like his voice; this sounds higher pitched, girlish.
Girlish.
What’s going on.
Tony looks around him for the sight of Harry, because he’s going on a limb here when he says the spell has fucked up. When he whips his head round, he notices hair flies passed him. He takes the hair, his hair, well at least the spell worked, fuck, and realises it’s the exact same colour as Harry’s ebony.
Oh no.
Tony uses his, his? Fingers to trace the face. He’s panicked now; he feels the slope of a nose he’s seen a few hundred thousand times, the puffed lips, the shape of familiar eyebrows, the size of eyes that he knows are huge. He stands up, looks down at an outfit he saw on someone else today, and he’s not freaking out, he’s not, he’s not.
It’s only when he looks at the mirror that’s placed on the wall in front of him does he emit a squeal.
He looks just like Harry.
Oh fuck.
Oh fuck.
How.
How?
“Tony?” He hears a British voice say, but it isn’t the usual husky feminine voice he’s come to look forward to hearing. It sounds like him.
“Harry dearest.” He says (or Harry says? What in the actual) “I think, maybe in hindsight, I should’ve just gotten extensions?”
-------------------------
So apparently, instead of making Tony have long hair, Harry accidentally made them switch bodies in order for Tony to have long hair.
You just can’t make this stuff up.
“I…am the world’s biggest moron.” Harry (in Tony’s body, he’s not freaking out he’s not) mutters. “You’ve skipped denial, the first stage, so you’re off to a great start.” Since Tony doesn’t want to stress himself out to the point of death, he has decided to mentally cool down. Now, Tony’s going to categorise his concerns for his own mental well being.
First- He and Harry have gone all Freaky Friday and decided to replace bodies.
Second- He is confused. Why is a part of him attracted to his own voice when Harry speaks with his vocal chords? Is this an ego thing? Is this a therapists wet dream? Has he always secretly envied the British accent?
Third- He wants, through no fault of his own, to examine this new body. Because this is Harry, and he’s admired her ass through the prison of jeans time and time again, and now he has an opportunity-
Four- He must stop himself from becoming a pervert.
Five- Seek therapy?
“I am so sorry, Tony.” Harry fills the silence, probably thinking this is the worst thing she’s ever done. “I don’t think I’ve ever done something so ridiculously stupid.”
“I never wanna hear an apology again, we’ve been through this.” Oh this is so weird. Harry has an American accent from his mouth, this is nuts. He decides to be a bit of an asshole.
“Wanker. Tosser. Bell end. Knobhead. Muggle.”
“Are you saying rude British words from my lips? Also, muggle isn’t an insult.” Harry places her (Tony’s) hands on her hips, something Tony rarely does, before slightly hunching over. “Actually, have at it. Least you can do.”
He doesn’t reply to that. This is so weird.
“I’m kind of digging this. I feel so skinny. Previous things were weighing me down.” Tony lunges and he feels like a feather, damn.
And then a sentence comes out of his mouth, one so horrendous, so rancid, that for a second he contemplates embracing deaths arms to shield him from the entirety of this situation.
“Imagine if we had sex like this.”
There is a moment of silence in the room, but to Tony the moment feels like decades, centuries even. He takes the moment of silence to mourn any remnants of shame he once had.
“What?”
Well. In for a penny, in for a life time of regret.
“I mean, it would be, uh, weird. You being the…thruster.”
Nothing is said. Tony reconsiders the definition of a disaster.
He decides to border on the defensive. “Can we share the blame?”
“The blame is on me.” Harry’s voice is hoarse, she coughs to ease her throat. His throat.
This is getting confusing.
But Tony’s mind is whirling with information and questions, and it is one single thought that makes his brain stop. It’s the icing on the cake.
“Harry. When’s your…time of the month?”
Harry’s eyes widen.
Oh.
No.
“Time of the month?” Harry stares at him, like it’s not a valid question. Like Tony won’t have a heart attack of all the heart attacks if he…witnesses any trauma.
“You know what I’m talking about!”
“It was not as crass as I thought you’d make it be.” She bites the edge of her lip. “It’s in a few days.”
Tony sighs, minute relief taking over.
“But it can arrive earlier if stress is induced.”
The relief is gone.
“Harry!”
“I’m sorry, Tony! I will fix this, it shouldn’t be hard.” She scratches the top of her head (his head, semantics) sheepishly. Honestly, she seems more puzzled than scared, which he sees as a great sign. Her eyes then harden when they stare at Tony.
“What are you doing?”
Tony and confusion are one for a second, before he glances down and realises, that, through no fault of his own, his palm is enfolded around his boob.
Harry’s boob.
Death.
Would be kinder.