Mr. Kent And ME [BL]

Behind the Iron Mask

He gasped with excitement.

"This is... a repulsor!" His eyes were lit up, and he hugged the gift to his chest, practically bouncing with joy.

Inside, Soren was screaming with excitement.

A repulsor!!

Even though it was a rough experimental model, this was the same technology that Iron Man would eventually install in his armor as a primary weapon.

This was practically like getting a piece of Iron Man's suit!

This was rarer than any limited edition collectible—a one-of-a-kind item, handcrafted by Tony Stark himself.

For a superhero fan like Soren, it was the ultimate treasure.

Tony nodded his head, a bit surprised, "Good name, kid. You can test it out. It's a miniature device that can shoot harmless projectiles."

Soren's face flushed with happiness, his eyes sparkling as he cradled the repulsor.

In his pure, youthful voice, he said, "This is so cool. I love it! It's really, really amazing... Thank you so much, Mr. Stark!"

Tony couldn't help but take another step back.

Oh no, Tony thought, feeling a strange discomfort.

Who on Earth created these glowing, excitable little creatures?

Tony Stark had always disliked fragile, overly bright things.

Especially when those fragile things stared at him with eyes as blue as the sky after rain, all misty and soft, like Soren's.

It completely shattered any defenses he had left.

He was even starting to worry if his gift was too simple—or too dangerous?

Honestly, it was just something he'd grabbed from his lab, a prototype.

Sure, Tony had modified it to be safe, turning the small but deadly weapon into a harmless high-tech toy.

But still, it probably wasn't the kind of thing a kid should be playing with.

A strong sense of protectiveness made Tony feel a little guilty about giving Soren such a "joke" of a gift.

But before he had time to regret it, the boy had already run upstairs, happily clutching the present.

Tony, feeling an unusual sense of nervousness, patted a waiter on the shoulder.

He grabbed a glass of champagne from the tray and took a large gulp.

As he tilted his head back, his eyes locked with a cold, sinister gaze from across the room.

He frowned, looking at Lex Luthor, who was slowly making his way toward him.

A snake, slithering his way.

...

Soren carefully placed the repulsor on his display shelf, still fascinated by its design.

As he left his room, he couldn't resist turning back several times to look at it again, as if the repulsor had a little hook pulling him back.

Amazing...

He couldn't believe it, not even in his wildest dreams.

A prototype repulsor that was built by Iron Man himself, is now in his possession.

This was the happiest moment of his life so far.

Soren floated downstairs, still in a daze.

In the hall, Charlie was tapping his glass, making a speech to the guests.

Everyone's eyes were on him.

Charlie, clearly tipsy, had a slight flush on his face from the alcohol and the warm lights.

He spoke loudly and clearly, sharing the emotional journey he and Renee had been on since the car accident.

The guests occasionally murmured in agreement or sympathy.

Soren stood on his tiptoes, scanning the room over the crowd, and soon spotted Tony Stark in a corner, holding a glass of champagne.

Something seemed off about him.

Soren frowned and weaved through the crowd to reach Tony's side.

When he got closer, he noticed Tony's face was pale, his jaw clenched tight, and his lips pressed into a hard line.

Drops of sweat were trickling down from his temples.

What was going on?

This wasn't how Tony Stark usually acted.

Soren knew Tony was a party regular, someone who thrived in these high-society gatherings, enjoying the attention and compliments.

But now, he looked like he had been locked in solitary confinement for years.

"Mr. Stark, are you okay?" Soren asked cautiously, noticing something was wrong.

Tony Stark seemed to flinch at the sound of his voice, his body giving a small shudder as his hand gripped the wine glass tightly, his fingers twitching unnaturally.

Tony clenched his teeth, his face turning even paler.

His breathing grew faster and more erratic.

His gaze was unfocused, almost as if he was looking through Soren, seeing things that weren't really there.

He didn't respond.

Soren blinked his eyes and gently placed his palm on Tony's back.

Beneath his hand, he could feel Tony's heart racing at an abnormal speed, pounding rapidly in his chest.

Suddenly, Soren realized what was happening—Tony Stark was having an anxiety attack.

Concerned, Soren steadied Tony's body, nervously licking his dry lips.

This wasn't right.

In the timeline Soren knew, Tony's anxiety disorder started after the Battle of New York, which hadn't even happened yet.

Right now, Tony was only in his early twenties, long before he became Iron Man.

He hadn't even built his first suit in the Middle East.

Why was he showing symptoms of anxiety now?

Soren leaned in closer, speaking softly, "Mr. Stark, are you really okay? Should I get someone to help you?"

Tony looked down at the boy who is holding him.

Soren's eyes were slightly lowered, and his thick, long golden eyelashes cast soft shadows across his cheeks.

His face tensed, and with a sudden jerk, Tony gripped Soren's wrist, fighting the overwhelming suffocating feeling that was overtaking him.

In a hoarse voice, he said, "No—don't let anyone know."

As the head of Stark Industries, Tony couldn't afford to let the world see this weakness.

His anxiety.

After his father's death, Tony had been swallowed by anxiety, caused by prolonged grief and sleepless nights.

Almost no one knew about it.

Charlie didn't know, Happy didn't know, and even Rhodey didn't know.

The only person who was aware of Tony's condition was Pepper Potts, his trusted assistant, who had quietly arranged for him to see a therapist.

Those who had long attacked and hated Stark Industries, those who were hungry for his position, would definitely use this weakness against him if they found out about it.