one. - an ironstrange oneshot

Tony Stark was a billionaire and a playboy, and a careless one at that. Being the owner and CEO of such an advanced tech company had its perks, including alcohol and women.

His two weaknesses.

The upcoming conference he was attending found him in downtown New York, inside the concrete jungle, the city he did most of his work in. He also had a party to attend in three days' time, which would be filled with businessmen, high-class individuals, successful professionals, women and alcohol.

To the world, he probably came off as arrogant and self-centered despite the fact that he was Iron Man, the armoured hero. But he didn't want to be as famous as he was. The 2012 attack on New York had left him shattered inside, though nobody knew it. He just wanted to help people. To minimise any more negative media coverage, he chose to walk the streets instead. Full of confidence, Tony strutted the streets as if they were his own, flaunting his velvet suit and his designer watch to those who dared to look at him. He truly was a spectacle.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y, where's the nearest Starbucks? I need my fix," Tony said into his earpiece. "You know what I'm like without my caffeine."

F.R.I.D.A.Y's systems came online. "Precisely 1.13 miles ahead, sir. And yes, I know what you are like without your caffeine. Your heartbeat returns to normal."

"No need to be cheeky, F.R.I.D.A.Y. But thanks anyway."

So Tony proceeded to walk, outside, like a regular person, to the nearest Starbucks. As he walked he gathered lots of stares - some good, some bad. He smiled and waved at everyone anyway.

Stepping inside, he felt the immediate warmth of the coffee shop and the unavoidable smell of roasted coffee beans. Starbucks was a comfort place of his. No one cared too much about you in there. All they want is to get their coffee and go. Tony loved this. He promptly fell in line, waiting for the people in front of him to hurry and for someone to take his order. He gazed around at the artwork that had been obviously used to create the comfy vibe. Instead, he found himself staring at a man. A good-looking man.

He was well-groomed, like Tony. The beard was a nice touch, Tony believe it made the stranger look classy. The man lifted his cup and took a sip from his frappucino. He could see his scarred fingers, but he couldn't tell what had created the scars. Scars and a frap? This man had a tough demeanour but a soft inside, Tony deduced. Interesting.

The line was barely moving, so he had more time to look at his newly discovered piece of art. He wondered what his name was. He wondered what kind of job he had, which was hard to tell as he was wearing a tracksuit, probably out on his morning run. So he probably didn't have a regular nine-to-five job if he had time to exercise right now. This was getting really interesting.

~~

The queue wasn't going to move anytime soon, so Tony decided to sacrifice his spot in line, to instead sit on the seat in front of the handsome stranger. Striking up a conversation came naturally to him, but with this mysterious man it really could go either way. Perched on the padded wooden chair, he leaned on the small table and smiled at the man across from him. This was the most nerve-wracking thing he had done lately, and he's Iron Man!

"Hey. Would you mind telling what drink you ordered? I'd love to get my hands on one. It looks delicious," Tony began, despite the fact that he already knew. "I mean, if you wouldn't mind telling me."

The stranger took out his earphones and looked at him. A good sign.

"It's a venti mocha frappucino. It's on the menu right above the cashier, if you had bothered to look. But I clearly don't mind telling you." the man replied coldly.