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cap_ironman2015-07-30 09:48 pm
entropy-house.livejournal.com) wrote in cap_ironman2015-07-30 09:48 pm
FIC: Sketchy
Sketchy ( 917 words) by AnonEhouse
Rating: Gen
Warnings:None
Universe: MCU, AU
Genre:Fluffy
Tony's been awake far too long. Steve knows how to handle the situation.
(Takes place in a movieverse where the Avengers took Tony up on his offer of Tower space and Pepper and Tony were never an item. Basically ignores everything after the first Avengers movie.)
A fill for the Cap/Iron Man Tiny RBB Code Name= EARTH
"Draw me like one of your French girls," Tony said. He got up and stretched, arms over his head and bending his spine back until Steve could hear the crackle of vertebrae.
Steve paused with his pencil just over the surface of the paper. No one had seen Tony around for nearly two days, although he hadn't left the Tower. As de facto leader of the herd of cats that made up the Avengers, Steve felt... well, really, he felt that bossing Tony around wasn't the way to go. If Tony wanted to mainline coffee and engineer things until he fell over, that was his right as an adult.
But it was only sensible to make sure the man who paid all the bills and provided a lot of firepower in a fight wasn't lying under a collapsed robot or electrocuted in a corner or something. He'd knocked on the see-through door and invited himself in on the pretext that he was bored and wanted to sketch robots.
He really was better at drawing people and animals, but because it was difficult was all the more reason he actually found himself concentrating on trying to get down the essence of Tony's robots so he'd stayed, sitting at a work bench to observe and jot down details and rough sketches of form and movement. They bumbled about like puppies, and Tony spoke to them with the same sort of amused exasperation you'd give a beloved, but currently annoying, pet.
It was a side of Tony he hadn't seen. This smartass remark was more familiar.
Steve raised his eyebrows. "What French girls?"
"See, it was a thing. In Titanic."
"The big ship that hit an iceberg and sank? What's that got to do with drawings of French girls?"
"I don't... I don't actually know. I've never seen the movie myself."
Steve couldn't see any sense in this conversation, but at least they weren't arguing. "Is it a good movie?"
"Supposed to be. I think it's a chick flick." Tony glanced at Steve. "You know, romantic and all about emotions, instead of focusing on the business and engineering and hell, meteorological factors that led up to the sinking."
"Oh. Ok. And you don't watch 'chick flicks'."
"Not by myself. That's just...no. No self-respecting man would watch Titanic by himself. With a girlfriend, sure, or even with a bunch of guys to make fun of it."
"Oh. Thanks. I won't watch it by myself, then," Steve said, amused. Tony was apparently hitting the point of sleep-deprivation where his none too great to start with filters were down and his judgement was totally gone. "But you want me to draw your portrait?"
"Yes! You know, I've seen some of your work, and I like it. It's good, I think. You know, clean lines. Good proportions and balance. I don't really know what makes good art so I'm not sure if I'm insulting you or not, but I like that I could look at your drawings and see what you meant by it, without having to get it psychoanalyzed."
Steve was definitely amused. "Possibly that's because I didn't do fine art, Tony. I was more interested in commercial art, and editorial cartoons."
Tony nodded. "I should ask Pepper if I should start collecting that sort of thing."
"I think, with art, you should collect what you like." And what you can afford, Steve thought, but didn't say, because he was fairly sure Tony didn't ask the price of anything.
"Well, I'd like to collect a genuine Steve Rogers original of me," Tony said.
"Sure. Sit on the couch." Steve turned the pad to a fresh page and used his knife to sharpen his pencil.
"Like this?" Tony sat on the couch.
"Um, no. Too static." Steve put down the pad and went over to Tony. "Lie down." He pushed and prodded, until Tony was lying on his belly with his arms comfortably flexed.
"Better?"
"Yeah, but you're not a trained model, so keep your eyes shut. If you look around or blink, it changes the reflections on your eyes."
"That's important?"
"Uh huh. Get the eyes wrong and the whole picture's a flop," Steve told Tony in his most serious voice. Apparently an exhausted Tony Stark was incredibly gullible. "Looking good, now, just stay there. I'm just going to adjust the lighting to make it more dramatic."
"Yeaah," Tony said. His breathing was already deepening, even as Steve lowered the lights.
"Perfect." Steve walked around until he found the angle he liked, and then he sat on the floor to sketch. "Stay still," he said softly. He took his time with the sketch, adding in details for verisimilitude until he was pleased with it and Tony was snoring steadily, totally limp and deeply unconscious. Then he neatly tore the sketch off and put it on a clean part of the workbench, weighed down with a small wrench.
Tony was actually a very good model, Steve decided. And it was going to be fun when he discovered the cartoon Steve had drawn. It was a top down perspective of Tony reaching up to try to get the wrench from Steve, who was refusing to let him have it because he hadn't slept in fifty one hours. Steve won, of course. He smirked a little, just a little, as he picked up the sketch pad and left the workshop.
Maybe he would draw Tony like a French girl one day. It might be fun.
The cartoon prompt at the artist's tumbler.
Rating: Gen
Warnings:None
Universe: MCU, AU
Genre:Fluffy
Tony's been awake far too long. Steve knows how to handle the situation.
(Takes place in a movieverse where the Avengers took Tony up on his offer of Tower space and Pepper and Tony were never an item. Basically ignores everything after the first Avengers movie.)
A fill for the Cap/Iron Man Tiny RBB Code Name= EARTH
"Draw me like one of your French girls," Tony said. He got up and stretched, arms over his head and bending his spine back until Steve could hear the crackle of vertebrae.
Steve paused with his pencil just over the surface of the paper. No one had seen Tony around for nearly two days, although he hadn't left the Tower. As de facto leader of the herd of cats that made up the Avengers, Steve felt... well, really, he felt that bossing Tony around wasn't the way to go. If Tony wanted to mainline coffee and engineer things until he fell over, that was his right as an adult.
But it was only sensible to make sure the man who paid all the bills and provided a lot of firepower in a fight wasn't lying under a collapsed robot or electrocuted in a corner or something. He'd knocked on the see-through door and invited himself in on the pretext that he was bored and wanted to sketch robots.
He really was better at drawing people and animals, but because it was difficult was all the more reason he actually found himself concentrating on trying to get down the essence of Tony's robots so he'd stayed, sitting at a work bench to observe and jot down details and rough sketches of form and movement. They bumbled about like puppies, and Tony spoke to them with the same sort of amused exasperation you'd give a beloved, but currently annoying, pet.
It was a side of Tony he hadn't seen. This smartass remark was more familiar.
Steve raised his eyebrows. "What French girls?"
"See, it was a thing. In Titanic."
"The big ship that hit an iceberg and sank? What's that got to do with drawings of French girls?"
"I don't... I don't actually know. I've never seen the movie myself."
Steve couldn't see any sense in this conversation, but at least they weren't arguing. "Is it a good movie?"
"Supposed to be. I think it's a chick flick." Tony glanced at Steve. "You know, romantic and all about emotions, instead of focusing on the business and engineering and hell, meteorological factors that led up to the sinking."
"Oh. Ok. And you don't watch 'chick flicks'."
"Not by myself. That's just...no. No self-respecting man would watch Titanic by himself. With a girlfriend, sure, or even with a bunch of guys to make fun of it."
"Oh. Thanks. I won't watch it by myself, then," Steve said, amused. Tony was apparently hitting the point of sleep-deprivation where his none too great to start with filters were down and his judgement was totally gone. "But you want me to draw your portrait?"
"Yes! You know, I've seen some of your work, and I like it. It's good, I think. You know, clean lines. Good proportions and balance. I don't really know what makes good art so I'm not sure if I'm insulting you or not, but I like that I could look at your drawings and see what you meant by it, without having to get it psychoanalyzed."
Steve was definitely amused. "Possibly that's because I didn't do fine art, Tony. I was more interested in commercial art, and editorial cartoons."
Tony nodded. "I should ask Pepper if I should start collecting that sort of thing."
"I think, with art, you should collect what you like." And what you can afford, Steve thought, but didn't say, because he was fairly sure Tony didn't ask the price of anything.
"Well, I'd like to collect a genuine Steve Rogers original of me," Tony said.
"Sure. Sit on the couch." Steve turned the pad to a fresh page and used his knife to sharpen his pencil.
"Like this?" Tony sat on the couch.
"Um, no. Too static." Steve put down the pad and went over to Tony. "Lie down." He pushed and prodded, until Tony was lying on his belly with his arms comfortably flexed.
"Better?"
"Yeah, but you're not a trained model, so keep your eyes shut. If you look around or blink, it changes the reflections on your eyes."
"That's important?"
"Uh huh. Get the eyes wrong and the whole picture's a flop," Steve told Tony in his most serious voice. Apparently an exhausted Tony Stark was incredibly gullible. "Looking good, now, just stay there. I'm just going to adjust the lighting to make it more dramatic."
"Yeaah," Tony said. His breathing was already deepening, even as Steve lowered the lights.
"Perfect." Steve walked around until he found the angle he liked, and then he sat on the floor to sketch. "Stay still," he said softly. He took his time with the sketch, adding in details for verisimilitude until he was pleased with it and Tony was snoring steadily, totally limp and deeply unconscious. Then he neatly tore the sketch off and put it on a clean part of the workbench, weighed down with a small wrench.
Tony was actually a very good model, Steve decided. And it was going to be fun when he discovered the cartoon Steve had drawn. It was a top down perspective of Tony reaching up to try to get the wrench from Steve, who was refusing to let him have it because he hadn't slept in fifty one hours. Steve won, of course. He smirked a little, just a little, as he picked up the sketch pad and left the workshop.
Maybe he would draw Tony like a French girl one day. It might be fun.
The cartoon prompt at the artist's tumbler.