"It's been a long time since I've actually felt the pull to tell someone all of my secrets," he admits. Matt knows he can't without causing a ripple effect that goes outward like an atom bomb blast. Or maybe that's what he tells himself. "The problem is, when you get sick of me being the pain in the ass I am, I still need to keep confidence in those secrets. Not just for me." That's his own mental spiral and he just happens to voice it.
In theory, shouldn't this be the person who gets it? Maybe. But he does feel like he's wading into deep waters and he's not sure he's ready to swim. Not so soon.
"Are you worried about my soul?" he asks with a hint of a smile. It's almost sweet in a way, even if maybe it's intended to be a slight dig at how he keeps those secrets and he lies. "I used to confess. I don't anymore." His priest was murdered but he figures mentioning that is just going to bring this down even more.
“Pretty sure there’s whole point is to confess and promise not to do it again. So you might not have the best track record,” Tony teases before he noticeably sobers. “Truth is. I’m trying not to worry about you. And I’m trying not to take it badly that you think I’d spill your secrets. Or be kind of upset that you think I’ll get tired of you. I have a track record too.”
Most of which is a lie, he realizes. He’s lying because his actual more than one night stands relationships have been intense. He falls fast and hard for the people that seem to get him.
And that’s so rare. So, so rare. He doesn’t exactly inspire long term anything with his partners.
“I should leave,” he murmurs. “And delete your numbers. This is becoming a problem for me.” His tone is at least light. He’s not serious.
"Yeah, that's the hang-up. The promising not to do it again part--because I do it again and again," he shrugs. He can't repent for what he'll do the next night and the night after and so on until it all eventually kills him. "Don't take it personally. I'm the problem every time." Easier said than done, he knows. It's not some indictment on Tony himself.
It's not that he's incapable of a long term relationship. It's just that the parts of his life that he's hiding get in the way, one way or another. Maybe he should learn from that.
Matt offers a small, but sad smile. "Problem is, some part of you believes that. Because you weren't lying when you said it." Objective truth is hard to measure but what someone believes is something else entirely. He sighs and tilts his head back because it's starting to feel a little more like a moment of truth than he was expecting on a third date. "Don't leave."
“I wasn’t actually going to leave,” he promises. I just said I should, before this gets too serious.” It already is pretty damned serious, though. He can’t do anything to hide that.
He wishes it was all just for the sex. The sex is fine. Great even. Tony is just old enough to want more in his life. Maybe that’s the loneliness talking in the end, but anyone that gets his attention is worthy of it.
“I do this thing where I make it get too heavy really quick when I like someone. Got a feeling you’re trying to avoid that. So how about we stop talking for awhile and stuff everything way down deep and then pretend like we might be too busy for another date even if we both end up making time for it?”
"It's not that I don't want it to be serious. It's not that I can't do it. It's just…" Matt sighs and tips his head back against the cushion of the couch. "Fuck it. Stay here."
He gets up, gives Tony's knee a squeeze as he passes and goes into the bedroom for a few seconds.
A decision has to be made and he could throw this whole thing away with lies or he can actually make the choice to be honest with someone who might actually understand him. Maybe even more than Elektra did. There was so much darkness in her that he doesn't feel in Tony. Guilt, sure, but he's trying to do the right thing and Matt has to think he'll understand that Matt's just trying to do the same.
When he returns, he's holding his father's old trunk and he sets it down on the coffee table. "Under the old boxing stuff," he directs. "I'm trusting you," he adds. It matters.
Under the top tray that holds Battlin' Jack's robe and gloves is the suit and cowl.
Tony frowns, laying an arm over the back of the couch as he turns his head in the direction Matt went. “I just said I’m going to stay,” he calls, as if Matt hadn’t heard him at first. Tony doesn’t feel nervous about what’s happening here, but he thinks he’s got a fifty-fifty shot of maybe being shown a trophy collection of murdered perpetrators that the law hadn’t dealt with properly or some BDSM gear. Tony isn’t sure what he’d do with the first option. The second? Well, he’s dabbled. Not really his thing but maybe with the right person—
The trunk does make his heart drop into his stomach a little. It’s too big for trophies, probably, unless there’s a bunch of fingers or some feet in there. It has to be whips and a leather mask. He really isn’t sure he’s up to whipping the guy—
But he’ll play along, open the trunk, move the gloves and the robe aside and—
Tony doesn’t mean to laugh, but oh God, does he laugh. “No, no, I’m so so relieved it’s not full of human teeth or fuzzy handcuffs and chains! And, can I be honest?” He takes the mask out of the trunk. “I’m a little jealous. But the red could be brighter.”
For a minute, Matt feels his heart sink because of course it's not as if he can compete with a fucking Avenger so maybe it's laughing at his hubris but Tony explains quickly enough and he can't help but smile.
"What, did you think I was a kinky serial killer?" he asks. That would probably seem more possible than what Tony is actually seeing in a blind man's trunk. "It's not supposed to be bright. I'm not trying to stand out but besides, I didn't make the suit. I have a suit guy. Well, I had one and then it was a whole thing so I have a different one now. He wants to experiment with color." Which doesn't sound all that appealing to him.
He lets go of the breath that feels like it's been in his lungs for too long. "That's my secret. The one that informs all of my secrets, anyway. Just don't turn me into the cops, okay? My neighborhood needs someone looking out for it and if I get caught, outside of the whole jail thing? I'll be disbarred." He doesn't think Tony will, of course, but it also speaks to his intentions and his reasoning for it all.
“Is it bad that I would have been more okay with the serial killer part than the submissive bit?” Tony presses his lips together to keep from grinning. “This is a lot less distressing, all the way around.”
He sets the mask aside to look at the suit that the second suit guy made for Matt. Don’t try to out engineer an engineer, suit guy.
“What are you wearing on your hands— oh. You don’t have any impact protection!” Matt might not have expected this particular response from Tony either, and now the man is fully engrossed in the fiber and the quality of the cloth Matt is wearing out in public.
Tony huffs, looking up from the items in his hands.
“I’m not going to turn you in. For the record, I wasn’t going to turn you in even if you were pulling out fingernails and making them part of a scrap book either.” Take that as you will.
"Submissive for who?" he asks with a lift of his brow and an easy smile now that it seems like things are going to be working out. At least in as much as he's not about to get the cops called on him and he can actually be honest. It feels strangely like a weight is off his shoulders to actually tell someone he is starting to care about instead of having them find out in the worst fucking way possible.
He sits back while Tony looks over the suit and takes a sip of his beer. He doesn't have any qualms with him looking it over; he could probably use the second opinion, if he's honest. "I tape my hands and there's some padding on the inside of the gloves. Obviously it's not always perfect," he replies, flexing his busted hand to make the point.
"I kind of would have hoped that you might've if I was a serial killer but I'm not. I don't kill people. So at least there's that." He reaches forward and touches the sleeve of the suit, "It's a kevlar weave, basically. It won't stop a shot from a bullet but it'll repel a swipe from a blade. I need it to be lightweight and flexible for what I do. I'm sure you can find plenty of clips on Youtube of how I move with it on. CCTV is a bitch. Mobility is more key than protection. I can move out of the way most of the time."
“Submissive to who would have been my question too.” It’s a lot of scarring on Matt’s back. The guy takes a beating. Or maybe he had before he found a couple of suit guys to fend off— “I have questions.”
He would like to answer some of Matt’s quips but Tony feels invested in Matt’s overnight activities. Mostly because he cares. Mainly because he feels a tugging sense of worry that their next date might have a no show due to a stabbing.
“First of all, taping your hands is for boxing. You can reinforce these gloves with carbon fiber to provide rigidity. The same stuff I used for your phone case. I understand the need for flexibility but these are your weapons and if you’re breaking your hand on the regular, you’re going to be out of commission. Okay, that’s not really a question. Just some advice.”
Matt will never receive flowers in this relationship. He’s just going to get tech and gear it seems.
“Do you care if I— I’m going to look up videos,” Tony says, already fishing his phone out of his pocket. “Daredevil. Still jealous on the branding.”
"I'll answer them," he replies. He will be as honest as possible and it doesn't feel like there is really much in the way of secrets left since the identity that made up the majority of those is out.
He absently flexes his hand and shrugs, "Most of the time it's fine but I do take your point. The gloves help. I fought with rope around them at one point." So that's supposed to be an indication of an upgrade but he does sometimes think otherwise. The rope protected more and hurt his opponent more. Apparently Tony has ideas of how he's going to fix things and Matt isn't opposed to it. He honestly finds it sweet that he cares about him enough to want to make those changes.
He does have some concerns that someone who flies around in a metal suit isn't going to necessarily understand the needs of a streetlevel fighter, but he'll cross that bridge when it comes.
He waves his hand, giving nonverbal approval of Tony going to look up the videos. "I'm going to grab something a little stronger than beer while you do." He gets up to head to the cabinet where he keeps his scotch and to bring the bottle back with two glasses.
“No, wait—“ But Matt is going to get them drinks and Tony will never say no to that. He finishes up his beer as he gets comfortable, one of Matt’s gloves over his knee as he looks up Daredevil videos. He doesn’t need YouTube for that. He can tap into any number of CCTV feeds and he takes liberal advantage of that.
His eyebrows arch as he consumes the way Matt moves when he’s not trying to cover up that he doesn’t need his eyes to see. A nasty hit makes Tony wince, and he flicks to another video where the man fares much better in his fight. It’s a good time, and he’s all smiles when the glass is offered to him.
“I get why you’d want to keep this a secret. But— Thanks. For trusting me,” Tony responds, setting his phone aside. “And for giving me something to watch when you’re not around.” Not to mention all of the projects.
Some fights are harder than others. Some opponents are better trained than others or stronger or have weapons that Matt has to account for. Every situation is different and he doesn’t go into it with any sort of intel or knowledge of what he’s about to face. Sometimes that means injuries but most of what Stark will see on the videos is an extremely capable fighter who keeps going in spite of taking a hard blow or two.
He takes a sip of the scotch and smiles. “I always have to confess at the worst time. It’s nice to be honest before you find me bleeding on my couch or something.” That has happened before.
Matt leans back to relax a little more now that the tension of the reveal is gone. “Apparently video of me is very popular. So I’m told,” he says with a little chuckle. “But yeah. So. Is it super weird that you went from thinking I was a regular guy to finding out I’m a crime fighting vigilante in a week?”
That’s a very interesting question. Tony is halfway through his drink, pauses, and decides to set the glass down. “I’ve seen and experienced a lot of really crazy things,” he says honestly. “I am so rarely surprised. What hit me the hardest was last week. What you could do. That you could catch what I threw at you. The rest— I don’t know. I knew there was more to it. You said as much. And I could make a pretty educated guess.”
Tony moves the glove off of his knee and puts it back in the trunk.
“I guessed wrong, of course. But it was in my top ten scenarios. Do I think it’s kind of stupid to be running around fighting street gangs? Maybe. But it’s also kind of stupid doing what I do. I get why there’s a need.” Tony shrugs. “Half of me thinks you should trust the system or make it better. Write new rules. That’s the futurist in me. I get it’s not always the best way to do it.” He can literally hear Rogers nagging him about the damned Accords.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
In theory, shouldn't this be the person who gets it? Maybe. But he does feel like he's wading into deep waters and he's not sure he's ready to swim. Not so soon.
"Are you worried about my soul?" he asks with a hint of a smile. It's almost sweet in a way, even if maybe it's intended to be a slight dig at how he keeps those secrets and he lies. "I used to confess. I don't anymore." His priest was murdered but he figures mentioning that is just going to bring this down even more.
no subject
Most of which is a lie, he realizes. He’s lying because his actual more than one night stands relationships have been intense. He falls fast and hard for the people that seem to get him.
And that’s so rare. So, so rare. He doesn’t exactly inspire long term anything with his partners.
“I should leave,” he murmurs. “And delete your numbers. This is becoming a problem for me.” His tone is at least light. He’s not serious.
no subject
It's not that he's incapable of a long term relationship. It's just that the parts of his life that he's hiding get in the way, one way or another. Maybe he should learn from that.
Matt offers a small, but sad smile. "Problem is, some part of you believes that. Because you weren't lying when you said it." Objective truth is hard to measure but what someone believes is something else entirely. He sighs and tilts his head back because it's starting to feel a little more like a moment of truth than he was expecting on a third date. "Don't leave."
no subject
He wishes it was all just for the sex. The sex is fine. Great even. Tony is just old enough to want more in his life. Maybe that’s the loneliness talking in the end, but anyone that gets his attention is worthy of it.
“I do this thing where I make it get too heavy really quick when I like someone. Got a feeling you’re trying to avoid that. So how about we stop talking for awhile and stuff everything way down deep and then pretend like we might be too busy for another date even if we both end up making time for it?”
no subject
He gets up, gives Tony's knee a squeeze as he passes and goes into the bedroom for a few seconds.
A decision has to be made and he could throw this whole thing away with lies or he can actually make the choice to be honest with someone who might actually understand him. Maybe even more than Elektra did. There was so much darkness in her that he doesn't feel in Tony. Guilt, sure, but he's trying to do the right thing and Matt has to think he'll understand that Matt's just trying to do the same.
When he returns, he's holding his father's old trunk and he sets it down on the coffee table. "Under the old boxing stuff," he directs. "I'm trusting you," he adds. It matters.
Under the top tray that holds Battlin' Jack's robe and gloves is the suit and cowl.
no subject
The trunk does make his heart drop into his stomach a little. It’s too big for trophies, probably, unless there’s a bunch of fingers or some feet in there. It has to be whips and a leather mask. He really isn’t sure he’s up to whipping the guy—
But he’ll play along, open the trunk, move the gloves and the robe aside and—
Tony doesn’t mean to laugh, but oh God, does he laugh. “No, no, I’m so so relieved it’s not full of human teeth or fuzzy handcuffs and chains! And, can I be honest?” He takes the mask out of the trunk. “I’m a little jealous. But the red could be brighter.”
no subject
"What, did you think I was a kinky serial killer?" he asks. That would probably seem more possible than what Tony is actually seeing in a blind man's trunk. "It's not supposed to be bright. I'm not trying to stand out but besides, I didn't make the suit. I have a suit guy. Well, I had one and then it was a whole thing so I have a different one now. He wants to experiment with color." Which doesn't sound all that appealing to him.
He lets go of the breath that feels like it's been in his lungs for too long. "That's my secret. The one that informs all of my secrets, anyway. Just don't turn me into the cops, okay? My neighborhood needs someone looking out for it and if I get caught, outside of the whole jail thing? I'll be disbarred." He doesn't think Tony will, of course, but it also speaks to his intentions and his reasoning for it all.
no subject
He sets the mask aside to look at the suit that the second suit guy made for Matt. Don’t try to out engineer an engineer, suit guy.
“What are you wearing on your hands— oh. You don’t have any impact protection!” Matt might not have expected this particular response from Tony either, and now the man is fully engrossed in the fiber and the quality of the cloth Matt is wearing out in public.
Tony huffs, looking up from the items in his hands.
“I’m not going to turn you in. For the record, I wasn’t going to turn you in even if you were pulling out fingernails and making them part of a scrap book either.” Take that as you will.
no subject
He sits back while Tony looks over the suit and takes a sip of his beer. He doesn't have any qualms with him looking it over; he could probably use the second opinion, if he's honest. "I tape my hands and there's some padding on the inside of the gloves. Obviously it's not always perfect," he replies, flexing his busted hand to make the point.
"I kind of would have hoped that you might've if I was a serial killer but I'm not. I don't kill people. So at least there's that." He reaches forward and touches the sleeve of the suit, "It's a kevlar weave, basically. It won't stop a shot from a bullet but it'll repel a swipe from a blade. I need it to be lightweight and flexible for what I do. I'm sure you can find plenty of clips on Youtube of how I move with it on. CCTV is a bitch. Mobility is more key than protection. I can move out of the way most of the time."
no subject
He would like to answer some of Matt’s quips but Tony feels invested in Matt’s overnight activities. Mostly because he cares. Mainly because he feels a tugging sense of worry that their next date might have a no show due to a stabbing.
“First of all, taping your hands is for boxing. You can reinforce these gloves with carbon fiber to provide rigidity. The same stuff I used for your phone case. I understand the need for flexibility but these are your weapons and if you’re breaking your hand on the regular, you’re going to be out of commission. Okay, that’s not really a question. Just some advice.”
Matt will never receive flowers in this relationship. He’s just going to get tech and gear it seems.
“Do you care if I— I’m going to look up videos,” Tony says, already fishing his phone out of his pocket. “Daredevil. Still jealous on the branding.”
no subject
He absently flexes his hand and shrugs, "Most of the time it's fine but I do take your point. The gloves help. I fought with rope around them at one point." So that's supposed to be an indication of an upgrade but he does sometimes think otherwise. The rope protected more and hurt his opponent more. Apparently Tony has ideas of how he's going to fix things and Matt isn't opposed to it. He honestly finds it sweet that he cares about him enough to want to make those changes.
He does have some concerns that someone who flies around in a metal suit isn't going to necessarily understand the needs of a streetlevel fighter, but he'll cross that bridge when it comes.
He waves his hand, giving nonverbal approval of Tony going to look up the videos. "I'm going to grab something a little stronger than beer while you do." He gets up to head to the cabinet where he keeps his scotch and to bring the bottle back with two glasses.
no subject
His eyebrows arch as he consumes the way Matt moves when he’s not trying to cover up that he doesn’t need his eyes to see. A nasty hit makes Tony wince, and he flicks to another video where the man fares much better in his fight. It’s a good time, and he’s all smiles when the glass is offered to him.
“I get why you’d want to keep this a secret. But— Thanks. For trusting me,” Tony responds, setting his phone aside. “And for giving me something to watch when you’re not around.” Not to mention all of the projects.
no subject
He takes a sip of the scotch and smiles. “I always have to confess at the worst time. It’s nice to be honest before you find me bleeding on my couch or something.” That has happened before.
Matt leans back to relax a little more now that the tension of the reveal is gone. “Apparently video of me is very popular. So I’m told,” he says with a little chuckle. “But yeah. So. Is it super weird that you went from thinking I was a regular guy to finding out I’m a crime fighting vigilante in a week?”
no subject
Tony moves the glove off of his knee and puts it back in the trunk.
“I guessed wrong, of course. But it was in my top ten scenarios. Do I think it’s kind of stupid to be running around fighting street gangs? Maybe. But it’s also kind of stupid doing what I do. I get why there’s a need.” Tony shrugs. “Half of me thinks you should trust the system or make it better. Write new rules. That’s the futurist in me. I get it’s not always the best way to do it.” He can literally hear Rogers nagging him about the damned Accords.