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So let's give it up for the new year, did this part of two have you slightly confused?
The lights of Las Vegas were dimmed by the brightness of the morning sun as it poured through the large floor to ceiling windows, as the heavy curtains were not drawn against the view of the strip. The warmth spread over his legs like a blanket, and moved its way toward his chest. Henry Hellrung moved a bit, his arm loosely gliding across the warm skin underneath. The brush of coarse hair where there should be none caused his head to pop up and his eyes to open despite the pain the actions caused to his already throbbing head, made slightly worse by the harsh light. He was half naked, in nothing but the pair of boxers he'd been wearing under his tailored suit, and the dress sock--one dress sock anyway--on his foot. Sprawled on the large king size bed underneath him was not the gorgeous blonde date with the sharply defined a-line bob hair cut and the dress that barely covered her breasts. No, underneath him was his mostly nude and rather hairy friend and partner in crime, Tony Stark.
Tony was still dead to the world, his eyes closed, his mouth slightly slack, he was clad in the same disarray of clothing that Henry himself was in. Wearing only boxers, his left arm draped over his forehead, his right hand clutching an empty bottle of champagne and oblivious to their situation as he dozed.
Henry dropped to his knees when standing up made him nauseous, as he glanced around the room. The girls were gone; leaving no trace of their existence save a the faint prints of soft glossy pink on Tony's cheeks. The men's clothes were all laying about in different regions of the suite: pants on the chair, another pair hanging from a lamp, a shirt on the dresser, a jacket on the table... the room itself looked like a party tornado had been through... streamers and boas, a few noise makers from the night, a couple of paper tiaras with Happy New Year on them (he vaguely recalled the image of one of the tiaras on Tony's head, the boa wrapped around Tony's neck) and a few empty bottles of various alcoholic beverages on the ground and tables.
He groaned, running a hand through his hair that seemed to be a bit messier than he'd expected. He stood, stretching the sleep from his limbs and staggered slowly toward the bathroom. His head throbbed, he hoped that Tony had some Advil somewhere in his luggage. The glance in the mirror confirmed his suspicion that he was a mess. Eyes blurred and slightly blood shot, the rough growth of stubble, his hair tussled and sticking straight up in the front.
Tony appeared in the door way, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"Our dates are gone..." he mumbled, brushing past Henry to drop his boxers and stand over the toilet to relieve himself.
Tony Stark really had no shame, Henry reasoned.
"I don't think they stayed the night, but I'm not sure when they left," Henry replied.
Tony shrugged. "I'm calling room service. I need coffee."
When he was finished, Tony pulled up his boxers, washed his hands quickly before leaving the bathroom as he pulled on the robe from the back of the door, tying its sash tightly around himself. Henry watched him go before turning back to the mirror making a mental note to purchase a razor later. He heard Tony on the phone ordering an number of foods that he was sure only sounded good because he was very greatly hung-over.
Henry ran his hands over his face before turning on the water, splashing his face a bit and rubbing away the traces of lipstick he'd found on himself. He splashed a few more times letting the cold water bring awareness to his body, the rush awakening the blood flow in his face, before turning off the tap and grabbing a towel. Tony was still on the phone as Henry left the bathroom in search of something fresh to wear, finding only a the white undershirt he'd been wearing the night before. He pulled on a t-shirt and came into the main room where Tony sat in a large arm chair.
Tony hung up the phone and looked at Henry, with a smirk.
"So, best I can tell from this... mess... we did have dates last night, right? I mean we came back up here with at least one girl each..."
Henry wasn't so amused.
"I can't believe they just... left us," Henry sighed with a hint of disgust.
"We likely bored them... or were more interested in our drinking and each other."
Henry's eyes widened. There had been rumors in the tabloids before, but as far as he knew he'd never been drunk enough to give anyone a reason to substantiate them with proof. Then again, most if the previous night was hazy memory at best. "Each other?"
Tony laughed a little triumphantly.
"A joke, Hank."
"Don't call me Hank." Henry thoughtfully rubbed the nape of his neck.
Tony was quiet then, looking around at the mess some more. He picked up a boa with his foot before wrapping it around his neck again, a bit bemused by the sight in the vanity mirror across the room. He sat back in the chair, again massaging the bridge of his nose. Henry seated himself on the couch looking around now that the mess was less blurred by early morning sight. After a minute, he noticed Tony's sharp gasp. Looking up, he noticed Tony's body alert with tension.
He glanced at his wrist, which was bare. Henry remembered there having been a watch there earlier. If he'd been too drunk to notice the girls leaving, there was no way he remembered to take off his watch. Which meant...
"She took my Rolex!" Tony exclaimed .
It was apparent he'd regretted the choice when he winced and sat back in the chair.
"We should... maybe check to make sure our wallets are here..." Henry stood but Tony waved him down.
"I locked them up in the safe before we left for the night, I paid with cash the whole time."
Tony had done this many times before, Henry knew, even without him tagging along. He thought of locking up their wallets... Henry admitted he wouldn't have done the same.
"I liked that one..."
Henry could have sworn it was a pout on Tony Stark's face, but he as too distracted to comment.
"That one?" Henry's brows raised as he asked.
Tony smirked. "I have a few."
Henry couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes at that. He knew Tony well enough, hell he played the man on television, to accept that Tony had a penchant for excess. He started to pick up some of the bottles off the floor. Tony had stood and started to dress, but in his crumpled suit from the previous night.
"Hank, get dressed. I'm not going to wait for room service. McDonald's is down the street."
Henry laughed a little, more out of surprise. "McDonald's! You're giving up five-star hotel room service for an Egg McMuffin?"
Tony stopped, looking at him with a playful smirk.
"It's sort of... standing tradition that the morning after breakfast is McDonald's, because that's really the only time McDonald's tastes good."
"But in last night's clothes?"
Tony grinned, with a wink. "Always."
Henry figured he should have thought better of it, should have argued for the sake of their reputations but remembered that, this wouldn't be the first time the two of them would be photographed after an all nighter, getting breakfast hung over in last night's attire. He pulled on his own pants, after yanking them off the lamp shade.
Tony looked himself over in the mirror, not bothering to smooth his hair or do much of anything. He unlocked the room safe, taking out the wallets.
"The only thing I really remember from last night is you wearing one of those boas we got from the girls," Henry told him, as he shrugged into his suit jacket.
Tony looked up, with a raised eyebrow. "I bet I looked fabulous."
Henry barely caught his wallet that Tony tossed to him before striding to the door. After a pause, Henry followed, taking one last glance at their hotel room. He wasn't exactly sure what had happened or how he'd ended up lying on top of Tony Stark but... he figured it was better he'd forgotten. If anything worth remembering occurred, Tony would fill in the blanks... right?
"Let's go, H."
"Yeah, I'm coming."
Fin