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entropy-house.livejournal.com) wrote in
cap_ironman2016-01-21 07:28 pm
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Bingo Fill: Stewed Steve
Stewed Steve (800 words) by AnonEhouse
Rating: Gen
Warnings:None
Universe: MCU
Genre:Humor
Synopsis: Alternate opening scene for Age of Ultron, in which there is no Ultron, and Steve and Tony are an item and Asgardian mead is really, really strong.
A fill for a photo prompt square (Captain America & Iron Man lying on the ground) on my Bingo card.
"Show me the way to go home! I'm tired and I wanna go to bed! I had a little drink about an hour ago, an' it went right to my head!"
"Yeah, Steve, I think we all noticed." Tony grinned and tightened his grip around Steve's waist. He was serving as ballast, mainly. Steve was as strong as ever, but his sense of direction was totally shot. As were several doorways in Avengers' Tower and various pieces of furniture that got in his way. "Thank Thor for the nice Asgardian booze."
"Oh, yah, thanks, Thor! Me and my honey have got to go home now." Steve made an attempt to touch his nose. "Tony's my delegated drover."
"Designated driver," Tony said, laughing. "Close enough, big guy."
Steve waved at the rest of the Avengers, most of whom looked fairly well wasted. Tony's wariness of mead had made him stick to Scotch, in retrospect a wise move.
"I'm..." Steve giggled. "I'm hammered. Because of Thor. You know?"
"Yes, yes you are." Tony tugged Steve around a corner. "Who knew fermented honey would knock you on your ass?"
Steve leaned forward and whispered, loudly, "I like sweet things. You're sweet, Tony. Like honey. You're my Tony honey."
"You are so going to regret this in the morning." Tony got Steve through the corridors and into their suite.
"Nah. You'll be there. You're so round and firm and fully packed, so free and easy on the draw." Steve stared at Tony. "You didn't get that reference, did cha?"
"No, Steve, you got me with that one. Come to bed. You need to sleep this off before you give me more embarrassing anecdotes. I will use them against you, I'm not proud of that fact."
Steve pulled back. "Need a shower. Don't wanna go to bed dirty."
"Fine. We'll just... wait, wait... ok, fine." Tony watched Steve make his way into the bathroom, and turn on the shower. "You might want to take..."
Steve stepped into the water, fully dressed, and grabbed a bar of soap. He began lathering up his head.
"Steve. That's... I don't know where to begin. That's soap, not shampoo."
"I always wash my hair with soap. Ivory. It's good stuff. Ninety-Nine and Forty Four One Hundred Percent Pure!" Steve did a wobbly hip shimmy. "But I'm not pure! People think I am, but they're wrong." Steve fondled himself through his clothes. Wet khaki lovingly clung.
"Steve, baby, you're killing me here."
"When I was young and full of hope, I washed my balls with Ivory soap! Now I'm old and care no more, I let them drag upon the floor."
Tony blinked.
"An old lady taught me that song! You gotta watch out for old ladies, Tony. They like to pinch."
"Wow, yeah. You're clean enough, Steve." Tony reached out and turned off the water. "How about you get changed and get some sleep."
"Crime never sleeps, and neither do I!" Steve charged out of the bathroom, stripping and flinging wet clothes as he went.
"You're not the goddamn Batman," Tony said, jumping over puddles.
Steve was already pulling on, not his pajamas, but his Captain America uniform. He pointed to his head, where his hood usually was except that he'd left it dangling down his back. "This A doesn't stand for FRANCE! I'm going up on the roof and protect New York from the forces of evil!"
"Wait, wait. Ok, fine, let me put on my suit and we'll protect New York together."
Steve stood there for a moment, water slowly puddling around his feet (he hadn't put on his boots) and then he nodded. "Up, up and away!"
"You're not Superman, either." Tony called the armor and stepped into it. They went up in the elevator, even though they were only one floor down from the roof. Tony didn't care to chance Steve falling down the stairs.
"Ok, we're here, New York is fine, can we go to bed now?"
"Uh huh," Steve said. He lay down on the roof, then sat up and pulled his hood on. "Go to bed." He lay back down, with his hand still on his forehead, as if he'd forgot to move it. "We can watch from here."
"What are we watching?" Tony lay down, accompanied by assorted creaks and clanks.
"The sky." Steve reached out. "If they come, we're gonna be ready."
Tony clasped his gauntlet gently around Steve's hand, and stared up at the sky, imagining he could see past the light haze. "Yeah. Yeah, we are."
*NOTE:*You're so round and firm and fully packed, so free and easy on the draw.- from Lucky Strike ads. Honestly don't know if that was early enough for Steve. 1940's /50's. Somewhere in there.
Rating: Gen
Warnings:None
Universe: MCU
Genre:Humor
Synopsis: Alternate opening scene for Age of Ultron, in which there is no Ultron, and Steve and Tony are an item and Asgardian mead is really, really strong.
A fill for a photo prompt square (Captain America & Iron Man lying on the ground) on my Bingo card.
"Show me the way to go home! I'm tired and I wanna go to bed! I had a little drink about an hour ago, an' it went right to my head!"
"Yeah, Steve, I think we all noticed." Tony grinned and tightened his grip around Steve's waist. He was serving as ballast, mainly. Steve was as strong as ever, but his sense of direction was totally shot. As were several doorways in Avengers' Tower and various pieces of furniture that got in his way. "Thank Thor for the nice Asgardian booze."
"Oh, yah, thanks, Thor! Me and my honey have got to go home now." Steve made an attempt to touch his nose. "Tony's my delegated drover."
"Designated driver," Tony said, laughing. "Close enough, big guy."
Steve waved at the rest of the Avengers, most of whom looked fairly well wasted. Tony's wariness of mead had made him stick to Scotch, in retrospect a wise move.
"I'm..." Steve giggled. "I'm hammered. Because of Thor. You know?"
"Yes, yes you are." Tony tugged Steve around a corner. "Who knew fermented honey would knock you on your ass?"
Steve leaned forward and whispered, loudly, "I like sweet things. You're sweet, Tony. Like honey. You're my Tony honey."
"You are so going to regret this in the morning." Tony got Steve through the corridors and into their suite.
"Nah. You'll be there. You're so round and firm and fully packed, so free and easy on the draw." Steve stared at Tony. "You didn't get that reference, did cha?"
"No, Steve, you got me with that one. Come to bed. You need to sleep this off before you give me more embarrassing anecdotes. I will use them against you, I'm not proud of that fact."
Steve pulled back. "Need a shower. Don't wanna go to bed dirty."
"Fine. We'll just... wait, wait... ok, fine." Tony watched Steve make his way into the bathroom, and turn on the shower. "You might want to take..."
Steve stepped into the water, fully dressed, and grabbed a bar of soap. He began lathering up his head.
"Steve. That's... I don't know where to begin. That's soap, not shampoo."
"I always wash my hair with soap. Ivory. It's good stuff. Ninety-Nine and Forty Four One Hundred Percent Pure!" Steve did a wobbly hip shimmy. "But I'm not pure! People think I am, but they're wrong." Steve fondled himself through his clothes. Wet khaki lovingly clung.
"Steve, baby, you're killing me here."
"When I was young and full of hope, I washed my balls with Ivory soap! Now I'm old and care no more, I let them drag upon the floor."
Tony blinked.
"An old lady taught me that song! You gotta watch out for old ladies, Tony. They like to pinch."
"Wow, yeah. You're clean enough, Steve." Tony reached out and turned off the water. "How about you get changed and get some sleep."
"Crime never sleeps, and neither do I!" Steve charged out of the bathroom, stripping and flinging wet clothes as he went.
"You're not the goddamn Batman," Tony said, jumping over puddles.
Steve was already pulling on, not his pajamas, but his Captain America uniform. He pointed to his head, where his hood usually was except that he'd left it dangling down his back. "This A doesn't stand for FRANCE! I'm going up on the roof and protect New York from the forces of evil!"
"Wait, wait. Ok, fine, let me put on my suit and we'll protect New York together."
Steve stood there for a moment, water slowly puddling around his feet (he hadn't put on his boots) and then he nodded. "Up, up and away!"
"You're not Superman, either." Tony called the armor and stepped into it. They went up in the elevator, even though they were only one floor down from the roof. Tony didn't care to chance Steve falling down the stairs.
"Ok, we're here, New York is fine, can we go to bed now?"
"Uh huh," Steve said. He lay down on the roof, then sat up and pulled his hood on. "Go to bed." He lay back down, with his hand still on his forehead, as if he'd forgot to move it. "We can watch from here."
"What are we watching?" Tony lay down, accompanied by assorted creaks and clanks.
"The sky." Steve reached out. "If they come, we're gonna be ready."
Tony clasped his gauntlet gently around Steve's hand, and stared up at the sky, imagining he could see past the light haze. "Yeah. Yeah, we are."
*NOTE:*You're so round and firm and fully packed, so free and easy on the draw.- from Lucky Strike ads. Honestly don't know if that was early enough for Steve. 1940's /50's. Somewhere in there.