Obsessions ⇢ Tony Stark

10 | Hips Don't Lie

"You're taking it slow tonight. And by slow I mean reasonable." 

"I like having a good time, but what's the point if I drink so much I can't even remember it?" Eleanora shrugged, resting an elbow on the bar. "Especially the leg-waxing thing. I'm quite upset that I don't have any recollection of it." 

Rhodey let out a laugh and nodded. "Fair enough. He's certainly not taking it slow." 

Eleanora followed his gaze to look at Tony, who was trying -and failing epically- to do the worm, surrounded by a group of giggling girls. He had beer all down his front, and his shoelaces were undone, which was a catastrophe waiting to happen. 

"I feel like we should intervene," she spoke up. 

"Yeah, probably," Rhodey agreed, however neither of them moved. 

At that moment, Tony began to stagger to his feet, only to step on his own shoelace and crash back down again face first. 

"Oh, fuck," Eleanora muttered, getting to her feet as he rolled onto his back and reached up for his nose in pain. "Hey, dipshit," she grinned down at him. "Is it broken?" 

Tony lowered his hand and beamed drunkenly back at her. "Lenny! Nah, don't... don't think so." 

"Shame," she sniggered, before grabbing his arm to help him to his feet. "Up you get. I think you're done for the night." 

"Wha- no! 'M havin' a great time! I'm f-fine." 

"No, you're not," Rhodey piped up, wrapping his arm around Tony's shoulders and guiding him towards the door. 

"You're gangin' up o' me!" Tony whined, before pointing an accusing finger in what Eleanora assumed was meant to be her direction. "When did you get all responsible? We got fucked up the other night." 

"Yes, well... thought I should give my liver somewhat of a rest." 

"Figures... Traitor." 

Together, Rhodey and Eleanora struggled to get Tony back to their hotel room. He headed towards his bed, but Eleanora quickly redirected him towards the bathroom. 

"You need to shower, you smell like a sweaty ballsack," she told him, pushing him through the doorway. 

He turned and gave her a sly smile. "You'd know." 

"So trust me when I say I am not exaggerating," she shot back witheringly. 

"You gonna- you gonna give me my pyjamas? Or you that dep-desperate to see me in jus' a towel?" 

Eleanora rolled her eyes and went to fetch his pyjamas, throwing them to him with unnecessary force in response to the remark. Inhibited by alcohol, the clothing just hit him in the face and he stumbled back with a drunken giggle, almost falling over before he caught himself against the towel rack. 

"I think showering this drunk's a hazard," he slurred. "S'probably safer if- if you help me with the process." 

"Probably," she nodded and he blinked in surprise. "But good luck." 

She shut the door before he could respond, turning back to face Rhodey, who was grinning in amusement. "You know, you had me for a moment, there." 

Eleanora scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm a little offended by that, to be honest. He's very obviously drunk out of his mind." 

"So that's the only problem, then?" Rhodey asked teasingly, causing her to jab him roughly in the stomach with a scathing look. 

"Oh, yes, I really wanted to snog him senseless but - extraordinarily - I managed to hold myself back."