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cap_ironman2015-07-26 12:15 am
entropy-house.livejournal.com) wrote in cap_ironman2015-07-26 12:15 am
Entry tags:
FIC: On the Bleeding Edge
On the Bleeding Edge (435 words) by AnonEhouse
Rating: Explicit
Warnings:None
Universe: 616
Genre:Angst
Extremis Tony allows the Bleeding Edge Armor to give him temporary consolation.
A fill for the prompt 'DISASSEMBLE' on the Tiny RBB
No one understood, and Tony liked it that way. The Bleeding Edge Armor wasn't an artificial construct any longer. It was Tony, a natural evolution extending his mind as well as his body. It didn't have a mind of its own, but it did link up to Tony's subconscious and survival instincts.
It knew what he needed, and it always, always gave it to him. He didn't need anyone or anything else. People were beautiful, transient visitors in Tony's life. Even the ones he wanted to keep, fought to keep, died to keep, didn't stay. It had always been that way, and he accepted it. There would be attraction, flirting, and if a connection was made, he enjoyed it while it lasted.
Sex was great. Friendship was even better, because it was rare, and not a thing to be purchased at any price, any sacrifice. Tony had a few real friends during his life so he knew what he was talking about. Yeah, a few. He could give the corny old toast, 'Here's champagne for my real friends, and real pain for my sham friends' and have most of the bottle left after filling all the glasses.
And the best of those friends, and the hardest one to keep, was Steve. Steve of the azure eyes and the black and white morals. Steve who hated him because Tony did terrible things with the best of intentions. Steve who died because Tony miscalculated. Steve who returned through what Tony refused to call a miracle, because there are no miracles, and if they were, they'd go to the people who believed in them, wouldn't they? Tony believed in Steve, but Steve didn't believe in him, not any longer. Tony failed, and failed again, and he let the Illuminati hide his failure from Steve.
That hadn't lasted, of course it hadn't. So here he was, in the dark. Steve hates him again, or hates him still. It's hard to say.
And Tony just... wants for a while, a little while, to have Steve love him. Even if it's an illusion. Even though he knows it will hurt more afterward.
So he lies down, and lets the armor do what it will. Lets it fool him. Lets it cloud his mind.
Lets himself drown in azure eyes, overwhelmed by the tides of life, pulse beating in his throat, his chest, his cock, his armor. Lets himself feel Steve's warmth and strength envelop him. Lets himself listen to the familiar, beloved voice tell him that he's forgiven, he's loved, he's never going to be alone again.
Afterward, Tony cries.
Rating: Explicit
Warnings:None
Universe: 616
Genre:Angst
Extremis Tony allows the Bleeding Edge Armor to give him temporary consolation.
A fill for the prompt 'DISASSEMBLE' on the Tiny RBB
No one understood, and Tony liked it that way. The Bleeding Edge Armor wasn't an artificial construct any longer. It was Tony, a natural evolution extending his mind as well as his body. It didn't have a mind of its own, but it did link up to Tony's subconscious and survival instincts.
It knew what he needed, and it always, always gave it to him. He didn't need anyone or anything else. People were beautiful, transient visitors in Tony's life. Even the ones he wanted to keep, fought to keep, died to keep, didn't stay. It had always been that way, and he accepted it. There would be attraction, flirting, and if a connection was made, he enjoyed it while it lasted.
Sex was great. Friendship was even better, because it was rare, and not a thing to be purchased at any price, any sacrifice. Tony had a few real friends during his life so he knew what he was talking about. Yeah, a few. He could give the corny old toast, 'Here's champagne for my real friends, and real pain for my sham friends' and have most of the bottle left after filling all the glasses.
And the best of those friends, and the hardest one to keep, was Steve. Steve of the azure eyes and the black and white morals. Steve who hated him because Tony did terrible things with the best of intentions. Steve who died because Tony miscalculated. Steve who returned through what Tony refused to call a miracle, because there are no miracles, and if they were, they'd go to the people who believed in them, wouldn't they? Tony believed in Steve, but Steve didn't believe in him, not any longer. Tony failed, and failed again, and he let the Illuminati hide his failure from Steve.
That hadn't lasted, of course it hadn't. So here he was, in the dark. Steve hates him again, or hates him still. It's hard to say.
And Tony just... wants for a while, a little while, to have Steve love him. Even if it's an illusion. Even though he knows it will hurt more afterward.
So he lies down, and lets the armor do what it will. Lets it fool him. Lets it cloud his mind.
Lets himself drown in azure eyes, overwhelmed by the tides of life, pulse beating in his throat, his chest, his cock, his armor. Lets himself feel Steve's warmth and strength envelop him. Lets himself listen to the familiar, beloved voice tell him that he's forgiven, he's loved, he's never going to be alone again.
Afterward, Tony cries.