Vineyard in Italy
Pairing: Toni Stark/Xanxus
Summary: Scars tell stories on her skin, Xanxus hadn’t realized that before.
In all the years they’ve been together, Xanxus has found thousands of reasons to complain. Mostly because Xanxus likes to be spoiled and Toni enjoys spoiling him, enjoys having someone whose reaction to her grand gestures is not exasperation but not so well hidden delight.
There had been actual, honest fights amongst the pretended ones, too. Especially after Afghanistan. Because Xanxus had just gotten her back and now he might lose her to this superhero business. He didn’t trust S.H.I.E.L.D. one bit.
But they’d managed somehow. The mafia assassin, the Varia Boss and Iron Woman, the face of Stark Industries and the engineer behind its success.
It sounds like a bad joke. Pair of alcoholics with daddy issues and fear of abandonment. They made it work, between engineering binges and mind-blowing sex. They pretend the conversations never happened, they’re both allergic to mushy shit.
Extremis was never a fight.
Xanxus had been desperate and Toni had been dying. She’d been in no position to make a choice so Xanxus made it for both of them. Toni, she hadn’t been the happiest, but she hadn’t resented him for it. They both know she would have made the same choice.
To be absolutely honest, Xanxus doesn’t regret it. Not even for a second. Xanxus is a selfish asshole, he won’t lose his woman to heroics, no matter how many laws he has to break in the process.
He’s mafia already, civilian laws mean nothing to him.
So no, Xanxus doesn’t regret it. He’s just surprised. He splays his hand open over her naked chest, fingers brushing the arc reactor, casting shadows on the walls. The glow of the damn thing mocks him.
Varia assassins can be vain, Xanxus isn’t. Toni is, he knows. She used to hate her scars. Xanxus hated them too, for entirely different reasons. Those scars had been proof of his failures. They’re gone now, extremis saw to that.
And yet, Xanxus finds himself surprised at missing them. The proof that his woman is as tough as nails. That there’s much that’s tried to keep her from him and nothing that accomplished it.
The other ones are gone, too. The ones he’d loved from the beginning. The signs of wear on her hands, the little burns on her fingers, the slashed x on her forearm from an explosion gone wrong. Xanxus loved those. The ones that came simply from Toni being Toni.
Toni stirs under him, hands coming up to trace circles on his back, smooth fingers caressing his own scars idly. “Come on,” she pulls him down, climbing atop of him and resting her forehead against his shoulder. “I’ve got a meeting tomorrow."
With the Accords Council, Xanxus knows. And Xanxus knows he’s asked for too much already but haven’t they given enough? Toni to the world and Xanxus to Vongola. Not all scars are skin deep.
"Maybe not,” Xanxus says before he can stop himself. “Maybe,” he continues, because the words are out now and he might as well. “Maybe we can find a cabin somewhere in Italy, with vineyards. The two of us.” Start a family, he doesn’t say. Little brats with Toni’s hair and genius and Xanxus’s eyes and temper. An interesting thought.
His people will come, Xanxus doesn’t deny it. Her people, too.
Toni straddles him, eyes curious and cautious but not judging and Xanxus turns his head, kisses her wrist where a burn scar used to be and waits.
Her lips peck his and Xanxus concentrates on the amusement in her voice, the fond exasperation. He nods. "Italy, the food’s better."
"Can’t deny you that,” Toni kisses him once and stands up, pulling him along. “FRIDAY?”
“I’ll let Miss Potts and Colonel man know."
She picks up her sweatpants and his shirt, drops her phone on the night table. Xanxus ignores the strange lack of scars on her skin and follows suit in dressing himself. "Tell the shitty shark for me,” Xanxus leaves his uniform on the floor, puts on jeans and an old shirt he left behind long ago.
Xanxus doesn’t quite believe that they’re doing it until they’re in the quinjet, stealth mode with FRIDAY taking them who knows where. He’s sitting on the co-pilot spot, Toni caging him in, both their lips red and shiny.
He pulls her closer, lets one of his hands rest on her belly and kisses the tip of her fingers.
“There will be more scars, you know?” But for all that she’s rolling her eyes, Toni’s eyes are soft and Xanxus bows his head, lets her cradle him closer. She’s always been far too good at reading him.
Not that Xanxus wants to linger on this line of thought, on the terrifying reminder of how close he came to losing her. “The shitty shark will find us soon enough.” Maybe six months in, at most.
“Oh, please,” Toni rubs circles on his back, not at all fooled by the change of topic. “My Rhodey-Bear will be first.”
True. But Rhodes and Xanxus are, perhaps unsurprisingly, on the same page when it comes to Toni. He’ll come to visit but he won’t tell a soul. Squalo is as subtle as a grenade to the face. Then again, the mini-boss isn’t the old man and Xanxus is willing to fight for this. He’s given Vongola enough, far more than they deserved.
Perhaps now the next scar he’ll earn will be something stupid, like a mistake chopping vegetables or, knowing his luck, he’ll inadvertently sit on one of Toni’s tools. She keeps forgetting them on the strangest of places.
