Quarterly reviews were due by the end of the day. Lucius had asked Bruce to look them over one final time, fix them where needed and then hand them back to him by five that evening. These were budget reviews and important for the sake of the company, if not personally for Bruce's own nightly needs. No one else did paperwork except for Bruce Wayne and Lucius Fox. This was very important.
Which was why Bruce groaned under his breath with Susan, his secretary, buzzed him on his phone only thirty minutes after he had arrived.
“Mister Wayne, you have a visitor. He says it's very important that you speak with him,” she said calmly, a slight shake to her tone. He specifically told her not to bother him – whoever it was could wait.
“Tell them to leave a message and I'll call them when I'm available,” Bruce said in a forcefully nice tone. It wasn't Susan's fault that people didn't get the hint, after all.
“But Mister Wayne, he's insisting --” Susan was suddenly cut off by a scoff on the other end, and ruffling of papers.
“Scoot over sweetheart,” came a male voice, slightly slurred. “Listen, you have time for me Brucie. You always have time for me and if you don't make time I'm going to come kick your door down and tie you --”
“Fine!” Bruce said sternly over the voice, calmly his own annoyance. “Susan send him in please.”
There was a brief chuckle from the other side of the speaker phone, followed quickly by the sharp sound of the door unlocking when Bruce pushed the button under his desk. The door flew open and a dashingly dressed Tony Stark strutted into the room, one hand in his pocket.
“Brucie-cakes!” he greeted as he strolled over to the desk, swaggering slightly. Bruce gave the other man a once over before meeting his eyes. Tony was completely trashed.
“Tony,” Bruce said with a slightly nod, looking back down at his paperwork as he started over them again with his highlighter. Tony planted his ass down on the desk and peered over Bruce to see what he was doing. Bruce swatted Tony's head with his hand. “I'm a little busy, Stark. What can I do for you that's so important?”
Bruce looked up again to see Tony fiddling around his pockets, finally reaching into his left pants pocket to pull out a crumpled up piece of paper. “I'm have trouble with this list...”
Bruce furrowed his brows, raising one just slightly. He placed his highlighter down, sitting back in his chair to look at tony suspiciously. “A list?” He was curious, he'd admit that. A list with Tony could very well be important. A list of who to put on the new Avenger's team, who to promote in S.H.E.I.L.D., what new component to add to his suit...
“Yes. See, I was on my flight over here to see you, and I was talking to Rhodey and we were on the subject of fine wine, and I told him that you have wonderful cellar of fine wines, which brought me to the subject of scotch, because scotch is so much better....”
“Tony what is the point of this?” Bruce asked, blinking at the man as he continued to ramble on over Bruce's comment.
“... but then I though, no women are much better than scotch. Well strippers are, not just any women. Strippers.” Tony paused and looked at the paper in his hand and unfolded it. He placed it down on the desk in front of Bruce. “Which brought me to making a list of all things awesome and amazing that I love.”
Bruce looked down at the paper, hunching over his desk. He smoothed down the wrinkled paper to read it better. The list was done in red crayon and looked as if a five-year-old had written it. Bruce sighed, “Please tell me you didn't drive here?”
“What?” Tony asked, confused. “No. No. But as you can see, I can't decide what order to put my list in...”
Bruce could barely even read the handwriting, let alone tell who was listed where and exactly what each was supposed to be. Tony was definitely drunk. “I really don't have time for this,” Bruce said, pushing the paper back over to the other man.
Tony pouted, looking down at his paper and then to Bruce. He stuck his bottom lip out further when Bruce rolled his eyes at him, and attempted to shoo him out of the room. “Bruce, pleeeeeaaassse!” he whined. “It's so important. To me. For me.”
“If I help you with this, will you leave?”
Tony grinned; “Yes.”
Bruce pulled the paper back to him, reaching over to his printer to grab clean piece. He numbered the paper one through ten. “I can't read this drunk gibberish. What is number one?”
“Well,” Tony started as he slid off the desk and strolled around lean over Bruce's shoulder to look at the paper. “It started off as scotch. But then I crossed it out for strippers. But then I remember I was coming to see you and crossed them out for you. But then I thought that scotch really was more important.”
“So, which is it?”
“Scotch. Let's make it scotch.”
Bruce wrote in scotch on number one. “And what is number two?”
“Three?” Bruce asked as he wrote in number two. He was growing annoyed, more so now that he was obviously getting pushed further down Tony's list. If this was Stark's way of getting attention, it wasn't working.
“Ass,” Tony said simply, then held stopped Bruce from writing that. “No! Wait! My armor! My armor is way more exciting than sex.” Bruce tipped his head slightly in question. Tony shook his head. “No, no... you're right. Sex is should be higher. Let's put it as number two. Can yo do that? Do you have white out?”
Bruce sighed and crossed out Strippers from the two spot and replaced it with 'ass'. “Strippers at three, then?” Tony nodded. Bruce sighed and wrote it in. “Four?”
“You,” Tony said sheepishly, his hand now on Bruce's shoulder, more for stabilization than comfort to Bruce.
“Oh, so I do have a spot on this list,” Bruce replied with some annoyance. At least he made spot five and not further down.
Tony snorted and pecked a kiss on Bruce's cheek. “You're the Goddamn Batman, Brucie. Of course you have a spot on my list!”
Bruce turned his head to look at Tony, glaring.
Tony smirked; “And because your my cupcake princess!”
Bruce let out a huff. “I'm so glad strippers have priority over Batman.”
“But strippers strip, gumdrop, Batman doesn't,” Tony replied coyly as he whispered into Bruce's ear. “Six should be tinkering with the hot rod,” Tony stated breathy and low.
“And seven?” Bruce asked, starting to get that there was another point to this list then Tony was letting on.
“Sex in the hotrod...” Tony was pushing into Bruce's arm with his hips,“with Batman.”
Bruce ignored Tony's advances. “I'm afraid that one won't happen. Batman doesn't have sex with drunk, genius billionaires who only put them at number five on his 'list of all things awesome that he loves'.”
“Someone's jealous of the strippers,” Tony chortled softly, pushing the back of Bruce's chair around so that Bruce was forced to drop the pen on the desk and look at him.
“I'm more jealous of the scotch. It has my spot.” Bruce crossed his arms over his chest. Tony lazily bent across Bruce and the chair, picking up the pen, and crossed out number one and put “Cupcake” there instead and moved everything else down. Eight became 'beating up the bad guys'.
“What about nine and ten?” Bruce glanced him over suspiciously.
“...And rain drops on roses and whiskers on kittens! There, done!” Tony threw the pen down on the desk. Tony shrugged as he crawled onto Bruce's lap. “We'll figure out the actual order of everything later,” he said slyly. Bruce didn't budge at the advances. “Oh come on, cricket! I replaced scotch for you! The least you can do is give me a little gratitude!”
“I have work that needs to be done.”
Tony leaned in and kissed Bruce on the lips fully, and then pulled back just a little. “If that excuse stopped me every time I came to see you, we'd never have sex.”
“I have to run these numbers...” Bruce began, breathlessly as their lips brushed at each word.
“I'll help you with them. Now shut up and kiss me, Wayne.”