“Funny. I don’t recall that I was allowed to do much talking about it at all.” Tony met his gaze briefly, mouth twisted in an unhappy frown, angry-looking dark circles under his eyes. His eyes were dull and tired and Steve fought back the urge to wince. He’d never wanted to hurt Tony, that had never been the plan, but they’d been together for three years and things could only be so painless after that much time.
“Yes, I’m sure. I may be a jerk, but it’s not because I don’t listen.” It was because his superhero secret identity caused him to bail on plans at a bank robbery’s notice and gave him a predisposition to what could be called compulsive lying, but hey.
Sue gave Peter an amused look, but gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “At least you’re self-aware.”
He wrapped his arms around Bilbo and hugged him, and he thought that if he didn’t hug anyone else apart from the hobbit ever again, it would not be a terrible thing. Hugging Bilbo was like coming home. Thorin had lost too many homes; he wanted to keep this one till the end of days.
“How is he, anyway?” says Obi-wan.
“Dude, can’t you use the Force to check?” says Darcy. “Or, you know, you could just ask him.”
“The Force does not work that way,” says Obi-wan, depositing her cup of coffee in front of her with a sniff.
Grantaire lets out a slow breath and scrubs his hands back through his hair, feeling tangled curls catch at his fingers and yank at his scalp. “Okay. I’m going to go take a shower until I feel less like I’m going to have a panic attack. Help yourself to coffee or whatever’s in the fridge.”
“Give me your phone,” Éponine says, and doesn’t move from where she’s sitting in a ball on the floor. Instead she holds out her hand, palm up, with a stern arch to her eyebrows—like she’s reclaiming something that’s already hers rather than blatantly commandeering Grantaire’s personal property.
He hands over the phone.