Chapter 3

Hot, scalding water rinsed the last of the bubbles of Tony Stark's form. He stepped out onto the bathroom tiles where he his reflection stared back at him from a small, grimy mirror. He grinned to himself when he noticed that the water had been so hot that for a moment after he stepped out, a bit of steam drifted off of his skin. Meaning he was still smoking hot. He grinned appreciatively before brushing his teeth and combing his hair.

Inspecting his teeth after brushing, Tony noticed they were still a bit yellow. Stained, he thought. It's probably the coffee. He pushed out more toothpaste onto the brush and passed it over his teeth again, hoping it would be enough to get them stark white again. No such luck.

Nevertheless, his hair and clothes could still be perfect. Tony finished getting ready and observed his appearance once more. A strand of his hair drooped awkwardly onto his forehead. He tried pushing it back, but it just flopped back in place. Pouring a bit of gel onto his hand, he tugged the strand back with expert is a smiled in satisfaction at his appearance. He felt so much better than he had that morning.

Recalling the asian man's earlier comment, he sniffed himself self-consciously. I don't smell like hamburger and cologne, right? As far as he could tell, he didn't. Of course not, he was just teasing. Yeah.

A boom resounded from a few floors down, sending slight tremors through the walls. That didn't sound good. He had left Kaneki on the bottom floor of the underground facility since it was the most secure. Although he had argued with Natasha about it, he had flipped through the file before jumping into the shower. If he hadn't been wary before reading it, he was now. A shiver threatened to crawl down his spine as he recalled the part where the man barely past childhood ate human flesh.

The sound wasn't big enough that Kaneki could have gotten past the barriers and out of Floor 22D. It was a pointlessly complicated way of naming floors, and the facility was so complicated to get around and the floor numbers so weirdly named that it not only confused Stark, it had also confused nearly everyone to set foot inside of it, be they employee, visitor or prisoner. The numbers, as far as Tony could tell, referred to different positions and the letters referred to the depths. Not in order though, or anything remotely sensible like that. Tony's inner perfectionist cringed at the thought of the map he had seen earlier. But he could tell that Floor 22D was the most secure and very little could blow it open short of the damned Tesseract.

He sighed as he climbed into an elevator in defeat. The doors dinged shut. There was no way that there was no damage, and Natasha was going to be very upset with him for leaving Kaneki alone so long. Especially since it was to fix his hair. After passing from elevator to stairs and back to elevator, Tony slipped into Floor 22D carefully. What was the man- the ghoul- doing? Most of the floor was open concept, although there were plenty of simimulated safety precautions. Only a few bedrooms and a bathroom were behind walls. The room was safe, and most of all, it was easy to keep track of Kaneki's actions. Well at least it should have been.

The bedroom doors were locked and shut, there was no way he was in either and the door to the bedrooms were unmarred, while the bathroom door swung gently on its hinges, revealing its empty guts. No one there. He glanced around the room. The kitchen corner was empty. The table was empty. The lounge corner was empty.

"Good morning, Stark-san," whispered someone in his ear.

Tony Stark did not scream. He did not jump a foot into the air. He wasn't caught off-guard. These were all claims that Natasha would later refute when she pulled out the security reel. Tony whirled around to the white-haired ghoul, nerves on end. He hadn't noticed it that morning, but Kaneki's smile was a tad wider than normal and a bit feral. What he had interpreted as a friendly smile now looked like the cheshire grin the cat who ate the mouse. The comparison did nothing to ease his nerves. But he was Tony Stark, for Pete's sake. He handled dozens of reporters everyday, he was a Casanova extraordinare. If he started lacking confidence now, he would be damned.

"Good morning, Kaneki," he managed, "I heard a noise down here. What happened?"

Kaneki managed to look simultaneously sheepish and condescending for a moment.

"I don't know what you mean," he answered lowly, looking Tony in the eye. Although Tony had intended on questioning him further, he found his breath breath caught in his throat at the eye contact. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as he subconsciously took a step back. This was ridiculous. It was just a kid, relatively harmless so far. According to Natasha's file, he had barely been aggressive towards Natasha even after she had knocked him out, drugged him, taken him prisoner, probably tortured him and offered no explanation for her actions whatsoever. Although he couldn't be certain on that last one, he knew Natasha was tight-lipped enough that she was uncomfortable revealing important information to the people she was supposed to inform, let alone a prisoner. There was no way Kaneki knew anything.

'Non-aggressive' is a misleading word, thought Tony as Kaneki wrapped an arm around him in a friendly manner. He calmed his breathing and pretended he wasn't bothered. After all, Fury apparently wanted him on the team, and it wasn't as if Natasha was the one who was going to make him feel welcome. He couldn't quite shake the discomfort he felt as Kaneki led him into the kitchen, though.

"Skipped the cologne today?" he stated more than asked. "You smell better than before."

Yeah... No. Tony couldn't do this. The kid made good coffee, but his sheer creepiness made it barely worth it. And the way his arm wrapped around his shoulders felt eerily familiar. Almost like... he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He moved to slip out of Kaneki's grasp discreetly, but the grasp of the small teenager was surprisingly strong. And that's when he put his finger on it. It's like getting hugged by Steve... Tony was not reassured at the prospect of being at the mercy of a man-eating teenager as strong as a super-soldier.

"Stark-san must be hungry," said Kaneki, "Lunch?"

Tony glanced at his watch. It was 9:10. Much too early for lunch. In fact, he had eaten barely an hour ago.

"No. No, that's alright, Kaneki," he said quickly. Kaneki looked him up and down and Tony somewhat regretted spending so much time getting ready that morning and putting in so much effort to look nice. They were in the kitchen section now between the two parallel counters running all the way to the wall and making a U-shape around them. Very practical for accessing all the counter space as quickly as possible when cooking. Also very useful for blocking Tony's escape without passing through Kaneki himself. Joy, thought Tony humourlessly.

Kaneki pressed Tony into the counter next to the sink, letting his hand drift over Tony's arms in with deceptively gentle touch that Tony still couldn't break free from. The unnatural steel gaze, the wandering touches, the way he seemed to breathe in a little more deeply when he came close, all of it made Tony uncomfortable. Is this what the women I hit on feel? He hoped not. What do I do?

Suddenly, he felt Kaneki stiffen. The limbs that had been drifting closer were frozen. The eyes over which had hung heavy lids were now wide open in fright. He scrambled off of Stark so quickly that Tony didn't even see him. Before he knew it, the teenager had climbed onto one of the rafters in the opposite corner of the room, hissing like a cat or a wild animal.

Tony breathed in relief as he stood up properly. He looked around for what could have scared the ghoul so badly. His eyes finally rested on the sink next to him, where a house centipede seemed to have out. It was pretty disgusting, yeah, but Kaneki's reaction was a bit extreme. Tony shuffled around the cupboards and came up with a jam jar into which he manage to trap the centipede after some difficulty and sealed it shut. The insect climbed about the inside of the jar in discontent.

"This? Really, Kaneki?" he said.

Kaneki paled, somehow whiter than his hair, and retreated further into the shadows with a pathetic, stifled sound. Tony almost felt sorry for the guy. Almost.

Meanwhile, he held the jar to his chest lovingly.

"My saviour," he sighed, as the centipede wriggled inside.