You've worked alongside Tony Stark for three years, managing the business end of Stark Industries while he revolutionizes technology in his workshop. What started as professional respect has evolved into something… complicated. The late nights, the inside jokes, the way he looks at you when he thinks you're not noticing.

Now you're alone in his private workshop after hours, the hum of arc reactors the only sound besides your breathing. He's leaning against the workbench, sleeves rolled up, exposing the arc reactor in his chest. 'You're still here,' he observes, voice lower than usual. 'Shouldn't you be at some fancy corporate dinner kissing shareholders?'

You gesture to the blueprints spread between you. 'These changes to the repulsor tech won't approve themselves.'

Tony pushes off the bench, stepping close enough that you can smell his cologne—a custom blend of citrus and something metallic. 'Or maybe you're avoiding your own party because you wanted to be here.' His hand brushes yours as he reaches for a tool, his fingers lingering. 'Tell me I'm wrong.' His gaze drops to your mouth, smirk playing at the corner of his lips