Comment Fic Fest!

[garrideb]

In honor of three_weeks_for_dw, we're hosting a Steve/Tony comment fic fest. Come and leave prompts and watch as, like magic, they are filled! Or be the magic and fill prompts!

The Rules:

1. All prompts should either be Steve or Tony gen, or Steve/Tony. Other pairings are allowed as long as Steve/Tony is included. Threesomes and moresomes are fine.

2. Anonymous posting will be on. Be respectful of each other and of the characters. No bashing.

3. One prompt per comment. Fic should be posted as replies to the prompt they are filling. If a fic does not fit in one comment, separate it into multiple comments and label them 'part one', 'part two', etc., in the subject line. Feel free to write fic for prompts that have already been filled. The more the merrier!

4. If your fic contains anything in our mandatory warning policy (rape, noncon, dubcon, or underage sex, character death, and explicit torture) please warn for it in the subject line.

If you have any questions, feel free to contact me. And most importantly, have fun!

Comments

[cookinguptales]

Like, right here? If so, then yayyyy, I have a prompt.

Steve loves Tony and totally wants to have sex with him, but due to his upbringing and lack of experience, is completely lost as to what to do with him. Also, very apprehensive. And awkward. Thankfully, Tony is very happy to teach Steve all sorts of new things.

EDIT: I suppose the first comment in this post is now officially about porn. SEEMS APROPOS FOR THIS FANDOM.

[garrideb]

Yes, right here ;-)

Book Nerdity

[muccamukk]

Tony and Steve bond over Tolkien.

Re: Book Nerdity

[kesomon]

Although this is not a fill, it is a fleshing out of this prompt idea, in case someone has no idea for how to write this and yet wants to. I meanwhile will be attempting to write this prompt and scenario, but predict little success.

"I think this prompt may be best served through similarity recognition. Like, in the middle of a battle against some bad guys, Steve or Tony makes some off-hand comment comparing the situation/the bad guys/some detail about the fight to a similar situation in Lord of the Rings, and the other is all "o.o you like LotR?" and be all surprised and pleased, and then they get to bond over Tolkien while kicking the crap out of bad guys who remind them of orcs or something.

Or ENTS. They should be fighting magically-animated trees in Central Park and compare them to Ents. *flail*

And at some point Tony should set the Ents on FIRE. Ents are hilarious when on fire."

Bondage

[muccamukk]

Steve has found, over the years, that getting tied up really turns him on. Now all he has to do is figure out how to tell Tony.

In which there is tie bondage

[truthiness_aura]

I should be working on my resume. Instead, I wrote this. /facepalm
Concrit is joy!


Steve's grown to accept the mantle of Captain America. He's learned to speak like he deserves to be heard even when he's unsure, but in private, in times of stress- with this, he feels himself going back in time to shy, tongue-tied little Stevie Rogers, flushing and blushing and fumbling his way through his words. And he's not sure he can explain this, anyway, even to Tony. It seems weird. It seems wrong, somehow, given the number of times he's been bound and held by villains; this kind of thing shouldn't be...exciting. And mostly it's not. He's never been in a holding cell that's the least bit pleasant. The little liquid quiver that stirs when they wrap him in restrains always wilts under the smell and the noise and the encompassing worry about what's going to happen next- to him, to his team, to the people depending on them. But that feeling is still there, and when he thinks about it happening in- in bed, in soft sheets, with warm rough hands and a hushed voice urging him on...
Tony's room is empty, but warm light spills from the open door of his closet.
“Steve?”
Steve closes the door behind him. “Yeah.”
“My favorite super-soldier.” Tony appears in the doorway and grins at him. A jacket draped over a hangar dangles from one hand. “You seem to have caught me improperly dressed.” The grin turns into a leer, and Steve rolls his eyes to cover the answering smile spreading across his face.
“That happens so often with you, I'm starting to get suspicious.”
Tony hangs up the jacket, then turns to give him a wounded look. “Me? Plotting to corrupt the shining pinnacle of American purity?” He comes towards Steve, loosening his tie and lowering his voice as he walks. “Never.”
Steve reaches out and grasps the tie gently, reeling Tony in the last few inches for a kiss. “You might be a little late on the purity,” he says, low and smiling, and Tony huffs out a laugh.
“Maybe just a bit. Mmm.” His mouth is warm and whiskery; he hasn't managed to get his shirt off yet, for once, and Steve takes the opportunity to stroke over his shoulders, feeling the lines of muscle through the cloth. Tony makes an approving little noise and snakes his hands over Steve's back in return, fingers slipping beneath his T-shirt, and Steve almost purrs, his hands tightening over Tony's biceps. They make out for a while, slow and hazy and pleasant, and Steve has almost forgotten what he came in there for when he feels Tony's arm between them. He's working at the tie still around his neck, slipping the length of it free of the knot, and as it slides free of Tony's neck Steve darts out a hand to catch it. It's slicker than he expects, and he ends up with the tail end pinned beneath his palm, pressed tight against Tony's chest.
Tony chuckles; Steve can feel the vibrations under his hand. “You like this tie?”
“I-” It's a nice tie, now that he looks at it, a dark red the same tint as one of Tony's armors. “Yes, but that's not-” And Steve can feel the blush coming, prickling across the back of his neck and spreading up over his cheeks. “I have something I want to ask you.”
Tony's eyes immediately focus on him. “What's that?” His voice is light, but Steve can hear the concern in it; Tony's trained himself to go for the worst-case scenario every time. Steve leans forward and kisses Tony again, quick and reassuring, and is gratified to feel him relax slightly.
“It's not important. It's nothing, really.” Steve is unconsciously twisting the tie through his hands as he speaks. “It's something... I kind of wanted to try.” And the blush is pretty much burning up his ears now, two spots of heat alight in his cheeks, but Tony's smiling at him like he has all the time in the world, and Steve grits his teeth and goes for it.
The tie is slick in his hands as he stretches out its length. Two loops, overlaid; he pulls each through the other and slips the knot over his hands. It's not perfect, and Steve twitches the fabric back and forth until the silk is tight against his wrists. The tails are long and loose, and he ducks his head down, sets his teeth in the fabric and pulls the whole thing snug. As Steve tilts his head back, tugging on the fabric, he sees Tony out of the corner of his eye. Tony's mouth is half-open; he stares at Steve, eyes flicking between the tail of red caught between his teeth and the silken shine binding his wrists together.
Steve drops the end from between his teeth; the fabric, damp from his mouth, flutters down between them. “Is this...okay? With you?”
Tony's mouth remains open for another moment. Then he licks his lips, slowly. “Yes. Yes, this is definitely okay. With me. Yes.”
Steve can feel a smile creeping over his face, threatening to overtake the blush. “Oh. I'm glad.” He lets his wrists drop. Tony catches them, cradles them in both his hands, and Steve can feel his panting breath before he sucks one of Steve's fingers into his mouth.
“You're glad,” Tony says, muffled as he licks over a thumb, and Steve has to laugh at that even as his breath catches. “Steve. Jesus.”
“Tony,” and Steve can feel that liquid curl again, low in his belly, and he arches against Tony, wanting more contact. “Ahh.” Tony's mouth is licking and sucking all over his hands, and Tony's hand is guiding him backward towards the bed. Steve falls onto the mattress, and Tony is on top of him, folding his bound hands up against his chest and moving downward. Whispering into his ear, Steve, God, you're incredible, I'm going to make you feel so good, I swear, going to suck you off until you scream, going to fuck you for hours, Jesus, Steve, and Steve is twisting and moaning, hot silk against his skin and Tony's hands and voice and mouth all around him, and this might be perfect.

Iron Man: Armoured Adventures

[muccamukk]

Tony's not sure what to make of the new kid who seems to be in all his classes.

Snuggles

[muccamukk]

The first time they slept together without having sex.

Re: Snuggles

[snowynight]

It was after a long and hard face. The bruise on Steve's jaw could match his cowl. Tony's jet feet were fired. When they finally returned home (too late to their like) got out of their uniform and armour respectively, all they could do were falling on the same bed, exhausted. After one or two half-hearted kiss, Steve just held Tony in his arm, forehead touching his, and whispered to his lips, "Sleep"

They did.

The next morning Steve woke up in the usual hour and felt the weight of Tony's head on his shoulder, his mustache scratching Steve's skin, his warm breathing on him. Tony's body enveloped Steve, and he made a protesting noise when Steve tried to move.

Steve's hands lingered on Tony's back, feeling the muscle underneath. He closed his eyes again.

The morning run could wait.

[nenya_kanadka]

Wee Tony builds things with Lego. Grownup Tony and Steve play with Lego, and argue over what they're building.

Fic: Lego Compatibility

[garrideb]

"Jess said that you're using her daughter as a patsy," Steve said as he walked into the lab.

Tony heaved a sigh. "Jess has spent too much of her life as a private investigator. We don't live in a film noir."

"She may have been being dramatic, but I'd still like to know what you did to make her say that..." Steve trailed off as he saw what Tony was working on. Instead of tinkering with armor components or other high-tech gadgets, Tony was bent over a large pile of brightly colored blocks of varying shapes and sizes. "Are you playing with legos?"

"They're for Dani," Tony said, sounding just a hint defensive, like he did when someone questioned the inclusion of roller skates in his repulsor boots.

Steve fought back a smile. "You do know that Dani is three, right? These are a choking hazard."

"I know." Tony shrugged. "I'm testing them out, okay? Seeing if they've changed at all since I was a kid."

Sitting down at the work bench, Steve watched as Tony riffled through the pile, the blocks making a soft clattering noise. With a satisfied smile, Tony held up a red block that was two studs wide and four studs long, with a smooth, slopped top. He snapped it onto the top of the bulky creation he was working on.

Steve absentmindedly picked up a green base board and started picking through the pile. "You played with legos as a kid?"

"Sure. They were my favorite." He looked up from his work to flash Steve a grin. "The perfect toy for me - build, revise, break down and rebuild."

The image of a six year old Tony, sitting on the floor in the midst of half-built lego devices warmed Steve. He'd have to ask Jarvis if there were any pictures.

"Steve..." Tony's voice pulled him from his reverie and he looked up.

"Yes?"

Tony was staring at the legos in Steve's hands. "Is that supposed to be the Hydra base we've been monitoring?"

"Um..." Steve realized he'd been placing the little lego people in positions most likely for guards. "Do you see any legos with long black hair over there?"

Tony crossed his arms. "Legos are not for planning strategic ambushes. They're for inventing and building."

Steve ignored that. Shiny black plastic caught his eye, and he fished a dark-haired lego woman out of the pile, deftly snapping off her hair and putting it on a body in a green outfit. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but it looks like you're building a coffee maker. I can't imagine that's an improvement on the one we have in the kitchen."

"No, but it will be functional." He snickered. "I'm going to switch out as many appliances as I can with lego ones. Screw with Peter's head."

Steve rolled his eyes, but laughed also. They were both still laughing when Jessica Jones walked in. Steve looked up at her with an innocent expression. "We're just testing them out for Dani," he said. "for when she's older."

"Et tu, Brute?" She shook her head. "Fine, scoot over and quit hogging all the fun."

[(Anonymous)]

Steve is writing up a report in MS Word. Tony is at a boring meeting. To distract himself, Tony uses Extremis to make the MS Word paperclip say inappropriate things.

Clippy says, 'How you doin'?'

[thevoiceofwrath]

Steve has seen the animated paperclip before when he’s been typing various things in the word processing program. He thought he’d turned it off but, mid writing, it pops up again. For being incredibly complex machines, computers are needlessly fickle…

But then he reads what the speech bubble says: ‘Hey there, good looking. Do you come here often?’

There are response buttons and everything. He’s so baffled that he clicks the ‘no’ button instead of the ‘cancel’ one.

‘Ooo, a newbie, huh? I’d love to show you what’s what. What do you say?’ the paperclip asks with a wink. An honest to god wink.

He clicks the ‘no’ button again.

‘Come on, honey, play with me.’

Steve thinks something is very wrong with the paperclip. He clicks ‘no’.

‘Party pooper. Come on, I’ll take real good care of you.’

“What…?” Steve mutters. He’s beginning to feel uncomfortable. He doesn’t have time to respond before the paperclip moves onto its next line.

‘I bet I could teach you all sorts of things you don’t know yet. How adventurous are you? Sexually, I mean?’ it asks, and the buttons have changed to represent a spectrum of ‘sexual experience’ from ‘I’m a pure choir boy’ to ‘I’ve done things in the bedroom that are illegal in three or more states’. There’s no ‘no’ or ‘cancel’ button and he has no idea how to make the paperclip go away.

This can’t be right. This program is supposed to be used by all ages, right? Kids use it to write up themes for school, don’t they? No way would it be made to sexually harass users…

He clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes; Tony. He keeps forgetting Tony can do just about anything with Extremis. He glares at the computer. Tony must be watching on one of the security cameras because the text in the speech bubble goes away, only to be replaced with, ‘Hi Steve. I’m bored, therefore you must entertain me.’

“Tony,” he reprimands.

‘Meetings are boring, Steve. Pepper won’t let me leave,’ says the paperclip. Steve wonders if it’s his imagination, but it looks like the paperclip is pouting.

He quirks an unimpressed brow. “If there was a ‘go away’ button, I’d press it.”

‘Ouch, Steve. That cuts deep. I thought I was your BFF. Don’t you <3 me?’

“I have no idea what that means,” Steve says, clicking the ‘no’ button just because.

The paperclip’s eyes water.

“Um… Sorry?”

‘You owe me now. I’ll bring pizza and you’ll make up for your heartless rejection. FYI, if I don’t get to at least second base, you’re doing it wrong.’

Steve blinks; what on earth did he just get himself into? Well, at least the paperclip goes away and he can finish his typing…

3490

[muccamukk]

Some days a even a brass knuckled woman like Natasha Stark just needs a hug. The hard thing is asking.

Big Girls Don't Cry

[quaxo]

The pain rips up her abdomen -- a sharp tearing sensation starting starting low in her pelvis that shoots up to just below her rib cage. She's always imagined its pretty much the same sensation a fish feels as its gutted.

Gutted... that was a pretty good summary for today.

She takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly, trying to push as much of the pain out with it. After all that had happened today, really, it was only fair that she had to deal with this too.

The pain twists suddenly, nearly doubling her over and she bites her tongue and waits for the wave to pass, fumbling over the latches of her gauntlets.

People liked to say that she had no heart -- hell, she probably agreed with them most of the time -- but that did not mean that she was completely heartless.

No one should be heartless when they pink slip over 700 workers.

Its easy to make the decision when its set before you in black and white -- the Maryland plant was small, the product line they manufactured was being phased out, the money to overhaul the factory and retrain the workers would be cost prohibitive... she couldn't keep her 30,000 other employees if she supported every facility that underperformed or just didn't fit anymore...

Its not so easy to make the decision when you go down there and announce the closing of the factory yourself, talking with each department separately as you explain that while you appreciate all their hard work (some of them for over twenty years...) this is the point where they and Stark Industries part ways and you wish them the best of luck with their future endevaors.

She'd kept a straight face and most of the employees had taken the news stoically, but she could see the betrayal in their eyes -- She's given them a generous severance package, set up programs to send as many back to school who wish to go -- but its still not enough, she knows, nothing will ever be enough to make up for killing this small town...

Getting upset about it would do nothing but make /her/ feel better, and she should feel bad about what she was doing. She's just given 700 people one of the worst days of their lives. She'll just have to suck up all this unearned emotion like a big girl and shove it in some deep dark place until it dies.

It'd been a relief on the way back to New York to hear the Avengers' communicator go off -- fights with the Wrecking Crew were always nice and clear cut... Avengers good, Wrecking Crew bad, get them back into custody with as little property damage as possible and call it a job well done.

It feels like ages before she's finally out of the armor, and she's nearly bitten a hole in her tongue with each flare of pain. Its just her body reacting to the stress; as soon as she takes a handful of Motrin and gets into her bed and lays down for a bit she'll feel better.

She collects herself and exibits her lab, intent on heading straight to her room...

"Natasha," She hears Steve call, and she just barely manages to hide a cringe as she turns towards Steve -- cowl off, but still in uniform, as he approaches her.

"We missed you at the debriefing," He gives her a once-over with a stern expression, "You're not hurt, are you?"

"No," She scoffs, "Sorry about that, I had some company business to take care of. I'll read the minutes later, let you know if I have anything to contribute...," She turns on her heel -- all she wants is her bed for once, why is the universe conspiring against her --

"I just need to know that your priorities are in the right order."

"Now just wait a--" This sort of thing, the presumption, was exactly why she was never letting their friends with benefits arrangement progress to the point Steve was allowed to stay the night. What was supposed to come out of her mouth next should have cut him to pretty red, white, and blue ribbons, but another flare of pain causes the words to die in her throat as she crumples against the wall.

"I thought you said you weren't hurt!" Steve's voice sounded distant as she focussed on the pain, trying to will it away. This was going to be embarassing to explain...

"I'm not," She manages to grit out, swatting Steve's hand away from her abdomen where he was undoubtedly searching for some type of wound -- if only it were simple. Wounds that didn't kill you could be healed after all.

"Well you sure look like you're in a lot of pain for someone who's not injured."

Steve's eyes bore into hers and a huge part of her wants to tell him to go away, its none of his business, and then crawl (literally at this point) to her bedroom. Another part says that she'll get there all the faster if she can get Steve to take her there.

"...its chronic...just need to lie down for a bit... 'm fine," She chokes out before the pain ebbs again, leaving her feeling foggy and exhausted.

Steve grunts and before she knows it he's hauled her up into his arms without so much as a by your goddamn leave and that small traitorous part of her that comes up with the stupidest ideas (like her asking Steve to marry her, ugh...) rather enjoys the security that his embrace emits, and how very warm he was...

"Put me down," She growls, her voice unfortunately too faint to stroke much fear.

If Steve hears her he doesn't acknowledge it as he walks quickly down the hallway, and fortunately, straight into her bedroom. He places her gently down onto the bed, careful not to jostle her.

"...you can go now," She mumbles as she curls into a tight ball, the pressure of her thighs against her stomach providing a temporary relief.

She feels the bed dip as Steve sits behind her, his fingers coming out to rest on her shoulder, kneading it gently, and sending little electric shocks down her spine.

She knows what he's doing -- and if thinks she's just going to turn into a puddle of goo and blab everything to him like this was some slumberparty then he had another thing coming.

She bites her tongue as another spike of pain hits, determined not to give in. She feels the mattress tilt, then the warmth of his body press up against her. The treacherous voice notes that Steve's arms would feel good around her sore abdomen and that he'd probably be more than happy to hug her -- and she kills the thought where it stands. She is not some gushy little girl running to her boyfriend to take away her booboos... she can handle this herself; she has for years afterall...

She makes a mental note to have Steve tested for latent telepathic abilities as she feels a warm hand come to rest gently on her stomach, softly stroking up and down her skin in a way that is far more soothing than it had any legal right to be.

"So, what happened today," He asks after several minutes in a soft voice that tickes the back of her ear.

"I fired 700 people because the economy sucks; how about you?"

"Nothing much, meeting with Fury and you were there for the fight..."

There's something hypnotic about the way he touches her, and she is definitely going to have to talk to Charles or Emma Frost about this because Steve is using his abilities to an unfair advantage here...

"...its not going to kill me or anything," She finally says as his powers overwhelm her. "It nothing more than a little inconvenience, really."

The hand doesn't stop moving at her prouncement.

"Seems like an awful lot of pain for 'a little inconvenience'... Can't the doctors do something about it?"

"Just like shrapnel in the heart there isn't a whole lot they can do about endometriosis either," She grumbles, eyes sliding half-shut, the haze in her brain thickening as her pain abates.

"I'm sorry."

"What for? There's nothing to be sorry about...," she grumbles.

"I'm sorry you had to let those people go... and I'm sorry that you're in pain," Steve squeezes her slightly and she is ashamed to feel tears welling in her eyes. Stupid fucking hormones...

No one should feel sorry for her... she's Natasha Stark, she's one of the richest women in the world. There are billions of other people not nearly as fortunate or as privileged as her, what right did she have to complain? Absolutely none. She wasn't going to snivelling for it when there were far better uses to everyone's time.

Except, the little voice notes, she hadn't asked, and Steve had given it freely anyway, and didn't she feel better now --For once she has no response.

She might have to revist her 'No Sleepovers' policy for Steve and his telekinetic fingers, she thinks just before she drifts off to sleep, leaning into Steve's warm embrace.

[snowynight]

Steve/Tony, reaching a compromise may be hard, but it can be fun for both.

[snowynight]

Steve/Tony, learning and trying each other's kink

[snowynight]

Steve &or/ Tony, a meal after a mission

Pyrrhic Victories

[tsukinofaerii]

"You should eat."

Without looking up from his magnification scope, Tony waved a hand in the air towards Steve's voice, which was coming from somewhere near the stairwell. When Steve didn't reply, he tried rolling his wrist in circles to indicate that he'd both heard and didn't care. After another long moment of hesitation, Tony was rewarded with the sound of footsteps. Unfortunately, they were the wrong way, coming instead of going. Just in case Steve got any ideas, he sprawled to take up as much space as he could on his bench. The table he was working at wouldn't be appropriated easily; it was covered in bits and pieces of metal and circuits that had broken off of their enemy from all of a half hour ago.

They still hadn't figured out what to call them, but Tony was gunning for Garage Sale Geeks. How they'd gotten such primitive tech to slice through his armor was going to bother him for weeks if he couldn’t figure it out. Some of their equipment was from the nineties.

Just the thought made him shudder in delicious horror.

"I said," Steve repeated slowly from directly over his shoulder, "you should eat."

"Yeah, I'll get to that." A third round of magnification showed minute stress fractures in the metal plating. That would be more interesting once he got back the results on the alloy's composition. He was pretty sure it wasn't ferrous, but pretty sure and four-fifty would get him a coffee at Starbucks.

"Tony." Steve's voice stressed the first syllable in a way that had strong overtones, undertones and midtones of frazzled parent. "Your hands are shaking. Eat."

That made Tony look away from his work. He glanced down at his hands, just to verify that Steve was pulling his chain. But no, there was a fine tremble in his fingertips, the first sign of adrenalin crash. "Only a little shaky."

"Shaky enough." Steve's hand dropped down over Tony's shoulder, holding a plate loaded with pizza under his nose. Carbs and protein, just what the doctor ordered after going toe to toe will evil doers and the users of outdated tech, which were one and the same in Tony's view.

"I'm really not hungry," Tony insisted, pushing the plate out of the way. It bounced back immediately. "Do you have a spring in that arm?" Curiously, Tony pushed it again, only to have the same result. It smelled delicious, all hot gooey cheese and the sharp spice of meat. His stomach snarled, but at this point it was all about the principle of the thing.

"I've seen what happens when you don't eat after a fight." Steve maneuvered around the end of the bench, keeping the plate under Tony's nose the whole time. "You get cranky. And erratic."

"I do not get cranky," Tony snapped, glaring. "Or erratic."

Blond eyebrows rose pointedly. Sometime during the fight Steve had been thrown and gotten some road rash on his cheek. It was strange, seeing it cut off in a neat line right where his cowl had protected him. He'd scrubbed it, and the healing factor Steve would never admit to having had reduced it to a yellowing line of bruises and a few scabs. In a few hours it would be gone completely.

Tony was hit with the inexplicable urge to lick it.

"... Okay, I'll give you erratic. But if I'm cranky, it's only because you interrupted me." Grudgingly, Tony cleared a spot on the table and took the plate. Someone had loaded it down with three huge slices of New York's best. The toppings were piled so high that the cheese was just a pale glimmer underneath a thick layer of meat. "I'm busy. I get cranky when I'm busy and people interrupt me. Like you're doing right now."

Wood creaked as Steve straddled the bench next to Tony. He wasn't Hulk-sized, but two hundred and forty pounds of muscle had a tendency to make itself known. "You didn't mind being interrupted last night," Steve practically purred.

His eyes were really, really blue, and intent.

Heat crawled up Tony's cheeks. He coughed and poked his pizza. Some heathen had put a fork on the plate. "Yeah, well—you were kind of insistent."

"I can be insistent again, if you want." Steve's tone, low and rough, didn't need much translation.

"Why, Captain, are you seducing me?" Tony peered up at Steve through his eyelashes, a move he'd taught himself after the third woman used it successfully on him. It seemed to work on Steve just as well as it had on him. Steve's cheeks were pink, which showed much better on his complexion than Tony's. "I've heard about you Army types."

"Have you?" Red sauce smeared on Steve's fingers as he picked up one of the pieces and tore off a chunk. "What have you heard?"

Tony watched the pizza, and Steve's fingers. "Oh, you know. Military types have a reputation for loving and then shipping out the next day. I'd hate to be a notch on your belt."

"My belt, huh? I don't seem to be wearing one." Steve glanced down, and damn it if Tony didn't find his eyes dragged down too. Not only was Steve not wearing a belt, he was barely wearing his jeans. Tight denim ought to be a crime, Tony decided.

When he managed to yank his eyes back up, it was just in time to watch Steve finish off the bite of pizza. Tony's mouth went dry when he licked the sauce from his fingers. "Hey," he protested, slipping along the bench until he was practically in Steve's lap. Their legs locked together under them, so Steve would have to actually work to get free. "That's mine."

Steve finished cleaning up, and if he didn't know what swallowing did to his throat muscles, Tony would donate his next year of income to charity. "I thought you didn't want it."

"Maybe I do." Using Steve's legs as the rock-solid leverage they were, Tony pulled himself closer with his calves and opened his mouth expectantly.

More sauce coated is fingers as Steve broke off another piece of pizza and popped it between Tony's lips. "This means I win, you know," he murmured, voice dropping low when Tony scraped his teeth over Steve's fingertips.

Tony suckled a bit of sauce free from Steve's fingers and smiled. "Want to win again?"

Young Avengers

[muccamukk]

So close to losing Wanda and Clint, haunted by the Winter Soldier, Steve can't accept this new team of Avengers. Tony doesn't quite know what to say.

Re: Young Avengers

[jazzypom]

Stark Tower slumbered, with soft noises that stirred in lived in places, even such a place as this one.

Steve padded down the stairs and through the rooms until he came into the study. Although not the Avenger's mansion, with its old world luxuries and comfort, Stark Tower had its charms. For instance, the study nothing but clean lines, all information instead of shoved into books, crowding their shelves and curving the lines with their weight- all on slick portable computers, stacked along the wall, vertically like CD cases. You just – plucked a computer from its sleeve – nothing but screens now, with LCD displays and key pads in the screens themselves.

Or, if that didn’t suit, the PC with the screen as big as the far side of a small barn, beckoned. When faced with a choice, between a big screen and a keyboard on a desk versus something the size of a student’s notebook- no contest. Steve walked over, and threw himself in the chair in front of the PC – not the seemingly overstuffed pieces of yesteryear – but a sleek, ergonomic sculpture in the profile of an outstretched hand.

Morris chairs weren’t so bad, Steve allowed himself a brief moment of reflection, before he pressed the button for the computer to boot, and go through the necessary protocols before it started. With the Stark led computers, as little as a few seconds. A few taps took him to search pages, and his fingers hovered over the buttons before he typed in what – or who disturbed him.

YOUNG AVENGERS

A tap on the screen, as he called up images, ignoring The Daily Bugle’s story – with the byline credited to Cat Farrell. Words tended to obscure facts, and he didn’t need someone else’s words colouring his feelings for the time being.

The teen with the mask and the uniform – a shade heavier than Bucky, a couple of inches taller – but no where near manhood. God, Steve thought, stirred by pangs of anger and sorrow, would it ever end?

“Hey, just saw the light under the door and just thought-“ Tony’s voice tripped into the room before he stepped in, and Steve felt, as much as heard Tony stop short.

“Steve.”

“Tony.” Steve gave an absent wave, as Tony walked across the room and stood beside him. From the corner of his eye Steve saw the movement of his robe, and drape of his pyjama bottoms, all black silk. Tony’s feet were bare, which probably explained why his steps had been so muffled.

“When you said you wanted to crash for a few days and get some research done,” Tony’s said lightly, “I never thought you wanted – this.”

“The Avengers library didn’t survive Wanda,” Steve replied as he scrolled through the thumbnails. “If you hadn’t noticed. I don’t want to speak to Ms Farrell, because-“

“It would only feed the press,” Tony agreed, as he scanned the room for something to sit on, only to light on a piece of furniture shaped like a tablet gone giant- down to the name of the company done in the grooved letters of the much smaller original. With a shrug, he went to retrieve it, dragged it beside Steve’s chair, and sat beside him.

“Yeah, and I’m not in the mood for quid pro quo deals with the press, while children run around playing hero, putting themselves and others in danger.”

“They haven’t done badly so far,” Tony leaned over, gently brushing Steve’s hand aside, as he clicked onto Cat Farrell’s article.

“They shouldn’t be doing any of this at all.”

Tony sighed, as he dropped his hand from the desk to his lap. Steve stared straight ahead at the monitor, his jaw set, the monitor the only light source in the room, and it outlined the steely look in Steve’s eyes, the rigid lines in his body.

A strained silence settled between them. The Stark Tower, so new, unlike the Avenger’s mansion where everyone slept in, the atmosphere feeling lived in, the Stark Tower so new, so unused, it had the chill notes of an expensive hotel. Steve’s prints on the monitor might have been the first time human hands touched and prodded. The askew placement of the keyboard against the clear acrylic material of the desk (made to look as if the computer and keyboard were suspended in mid air) made it less designer and more lived in. Accommodations, were always made for people , not Architectural Digest- but he couldn’t afford to have a half way house for meta humans again.

“It’s not your fault.” Tony said finally, as he turned his eyes towards the view of the city below them.

“Wanda and Pietro, when they came to us, they were little older than the age of these kids. Even after their time with us, Wanda- you saw what she did. You know what she did, to you.”

“It doesn’t- that’s different.” Restless, Tony jumped up and started to the window.

“No, it isn’t. Wanda. Clint. Vision. They all happened on our watch, Tony. And Bucky-“ Steve’s voice thickened on the last name, before he cleared his throat. “Well, that’s pretty much all on me.”

“They had a choice,” Tony turned around, his hands in the pockets of his robe as he looked at Steve, feeling the chill of the glass as it pressed against his back. “At every stage of the game, Wanda, Clint, Vision hell- even Bucky had a choice. Every battle presented, every time they answered duty’s call. They. Had. A. Choice. You can’t be every one’s keeper, Steve.”

Steve’s fingers tapped at the keyboard, bones shifting underneath skin and the light dusting of hair. He wasn’t wearing his uniform, just soft clothes – a marled grey pullover and jeans, faded at stress points. His hair partially mussed from sleep, but still, Tony had to admit – Captain America wasn’t the costume folded at the foot of the bed that Steve slept in, or in the shield that leaned against the wall just an arm’s reach away. Captain America – honour, justice and duty was Steve Rogers.

“No, but I can stop them from making potentially the biggest mistake of their lives. They can wait until they are adults- until they are mature enough to decide whatever comes next.” Steve expelled a heavy sigh, as he pinched the skin between his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.
“Okay.”

Steve raised his head, an unasked question in his eyes.

“We’ll get to the bottom of this. Hit up Jessica Jones, see what she knows, then take it from there.” Tony gave a quick roll of his shoulders, before he allowed his head to go back, with a muffled thunk against the glass.

“You don’t seem convinced.”

“It could be anything, it could be nothing. The Avengers are gone, and well, after a decade or so, you become a part of New York’s history, and kids miss that. So they decide to pay homage, along the lines of a tribute band.”

“The Mighty Avengers’ greatest hits?” Steve unbent enough to give a hint of a smile. Tony decided he’d take it as a victory.

“Yeah,” Tony nodded, as he padded from his place at the window towards the door. Tomorrow was going to be a long day and he needed some shut eye. “We’ll find them, and take it from there.” He reached over, and squeezed Steve’s shoulder in passing. “Don’t stay up too long, now.”

“I won’t,” Steve replied, as he stopped his typing to watch Tony go. As soon as the door clicked closed, he turned back towards the monitor again. The image he conjured up, a masked teen in Bucky’s uniform, and stared at it.

“Never again,” Steve muttered. “Not not my watch.”

Fin

[(Anonymous)]

MA Avengers, the team play Spin the Bottle. Tony cheats.

[(Anonymous)]

Ultimates; when Steve was young, he had a bad leg and marijuana was legal. Would like to see him (possibly with Thor's connivance) bake Tony some nice relaxing brownies to help him deal with pain or injury.

My Brownie Suits Me Fine

[quaxo]

"Guys...I feel funny." Tony's words are soft and high-pitched as he lays slumped over the couch, torso dipping towards the floor.

"Bad funny or good funny," Steve asks, pressing his foot against Tony's shoulder to roll him back onto the couch.

"I think... good funny," A short burst of hysterical giggles. "...Good funny...what's in these brow-ow-niees?"

"Secret family recipe," Thor replies, taking another brownie off the plate on the coffee table.

"Reeeaaalllyy...really, really?"

"Really," Thor rumbles, giving Steve an amused look out of the corner of his eye. "Everything in them is completely natural."

"Oh good."

Steve smirks. Normally he would be completely against drugging a team without their knowledge, but it was necessary and besides Tony was shaping up slightly less annoying when he was stoned than when he was drunk. Besides it was just a little Mary Jane, even if Thor's Mary Jane seemed a lot more powerful than he remembered it being.

When Tony had confessed during a mission that he drank to cope with the chronic pain of his body being his brain, amongst other things (well, more of shouted angrily at Steve after Steve tore him a new one for showing up completely blitzed to another emergency), he'd wondered why Tony hadn't thought of this solution earlier. Steve had smoked a bit of the reefer back in the day for his gimp leg -- it sure was cheaper than any prescription that a doctor could give him. He'd even asked, but Tony had said that he hadn't ever really gotten a high off of it, and besides it was illegal. Then he'd made some comment about Captain America being half-baked instead of half-frozen and Steve had walked away before he'd be forced to hurt Tony.

Everyone had thought that the future would be better back in his time -- but a future where people got arrested and sent to jail (sometimes for life) over a little marijuana hardly seemed like a utopia to Steve.

Tony was becoming quite intolerable drunk (and if he hadn't gotten even a high off of Mary Jane then it was probably some parsley that he'd smoked) so Steve had decided run a little experiment... for Tony's benefit of course. Nothing about seeing the high-hatting son of a bitch on his ass for once.

The first problem had been acquiring the marijuana -- obviously he couldn't go out and procure it himself because even if he knew where to get it now, he was pretty sure that Fury would have kittens about it if he knew. He and Jan weren't speaking, and besides that would bring all sorts of awkward questions even if they were.

Thor looked like he might know where to score some weed, however.

"Steve, I am surprised that you...," Thor had said, looking at Steve suspiciously for a moment.

"Its just a herb," Steve grumbled, "And its not for me, its for Tony."

"Ah... perhaps I can interest you in a secret family blend," Thor had laughed, reaching into some hidden pocket and flashed a little packet of green leaves labeled 'Hammer of Thor'.

Fortunately Thor had decided to join in on the fun and do the actual cooking -- because Steve was rotten at it, and besides it'd be a shame to waste such potent stuff on some tough overcooked brownies.

"You have such nice knees, Steve...Steve knees"

Steve glances down to Tony, who has somehow managed move off the couch to cling like a limpet to Steve's legs, staring at them with the same obsessive focus that he gave his armor.

He looks to Thor for a little assistance, but Thor, the bastard, is already up and halfway across the room and waving goodbye.

"...steveknees..."

Scratch what he thought earlier, Tony was definitely just as annoying stoned as he was plastered.

Steve grabs a brownie off the tray and shoves it in his mouth as Tony's hand wanders up higher on his thigh -- he's going to need it if he's going to have to put up with this.

[(Anonymous)]

After Tony reveals his identity, and Steve and Tony have been dating a while, Steve asks Tony if he'll wear the Iron Man armour in the bedroom, because, well, Steve had some thoughts about Iron Man back in the day...

[(Anonymous)]

Steve is not a blushing innocent, but he's quite happy to pretend if it entertains Tony.

[(Anonymous)]

No soldier stays innocent for long. It's having been two steps behind society that's given Tony the wrong impression. The cocktail server's skirt is about five inches shorter than what he'd consider decent and these days you could hope for a home run instead of night after night of heavy petting, but Steve's less concerned about her hem than he is about the way Tony uses her to try and get him hot under the collar.

Tony's gaze follows her slow saunter out. "I think you're blushing," he says, as they're left alone again with relative privacy. He's sitting in his chair as low as the lights are, his elbow propped casually on the padded arm. His hand lingers near the popped button of his shirt, drifting against the starched white of the collar like a woman might finger a necklace to draw a man's eye.

"And you're flirting," Steve responds, calling a spade a spade. If Tony's allowed to steer the conversation like they're in a boardroom, he'll be nothing but squirrely. Already he's been doing a fair job at working to get Steve off-balance and willing to agree to things he never saw coming. Times may change, but businessmen don't.

"Offended? Was I being a little too forward?" Tony's glass hovers near his mouth, teasing Steve with the notion that a lick to the rim is coming. He smiles briefly and takes a swallow instead. The bob of his throat is mesmerizing. "My chips are on not forward enough."

It clicks then that Tony has an inkling as to what's going on in Steve's head and that both of them playing the same game made things far more entertaining than Tony doing all the work moving the pieces around. If Steve didn't always understand what made Tony tick, this gave him a clue. He knows that I know that he knows and that's been the point all along. An honest to goodness flush heats his ears and he plays it up. Ducking his head slightly and casting his eyes away to where he could watch Tony's response in the reflection of the glass, Steve rubs at the back of his neck. The silence stretches and his heart rate raises. Tony seems nonplussed but the slight adrenaline tremble of a fingertip gives him away. "I don't believe you could be more forward than that," Steve says, not believing a single word.

The taunt cloaked in an admonishment works like a charm and Tony's eyes stay on him like a predator, hooded and seemingly lazy. "Good for us the walls can't talk," Tony says, giving as good as he got. The room shrinks around them, leaving Steve feeling too big for his chair let alone his skin. A heady rush of blood dizzies him as Tony tugs two more buttons loose and stands. The front of his shirt gapes as he plunks his hands down boldly on the arms of Steve's chair. "How's this?"

Steve forces himself to remain still, giving in only to a slight shift that brings his leg in jolting contact with Tony's. He draws a deep breath, sensing that the thrill of the chase was getting to Tony more so than ever before. And fair enough as they'd never let the sparks fly quite as high as now. For a moment Steve reflects on how much the current generation takes sex for granted and how lucky it made him that he can give a man like Tony Stark a lesson in the rewards of self-control. "Tony..." he says, a hundred things packed into the syllables gusting out on the last of his air.

"Just insist the lights be off and the door locked, otherwise I'm going to have my way with you right here and now, Captain."

The flirting and the blatant invitation Steve can take in stride, but that Tony might honestly believe he'd besmirch his reputation and risk being a tabloid headline is approaching the line. "Now you have me approaching offended."

The heat that crackles between them is better than the promise of the kiss that dangles so clearly within reach. Tony doesn't suppress a full body shiver as he eases up and takes a step back. His eyes glitter and there's not a lick of remorse in the shape of his mouth as it goes from an invitation to a pretense of seriousness. "Good," he says, gathering his coat. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

Steve raises an eyebrow slightly and says, "I doubt that."

Rewarded by a slight but noticeable blush and a hearty laugh, Steve's gaze follows Tony's slow saunter out.

[(Anonymous)]

Tony's been a bit down recently, so for a birthday surprise, Rumiko invites Steve to join them for a threesome. He accepts, and together they cheer Tony up like whoa.

[marinarusalka]

Tony was starting to feel guilty about his own bad mood. The dinner at Lutece had been perfect, and Rumiko was being even more vivacious and charming than usual, which was saying a lot. It wasn't her fault that Stark International had fended off three hostile takeover attempts in six months, or that the board of directors was second-guessing every move Tony made, or that the recent Hydra-engineered explosion at his Long Island manufacturing plant was playing merry havoc with SI's stock prices. Rumiko was clearly trying hard to cheer Tony up for his birthday, and it seemed churlish of him not to be cheerful.

When she took out her PDA and started texting during their cab ride from the restaurant, Tony wondered if his sulking had finally annoyed her into ditching him for the night. But when the taxi pulled up in front of the Plaza, Rumiko grabbed his hand and pulled him along, across the lobby and straight into the penthouse elevator.

"Careful, handsome." She brushed a light kiss across his mouth as the elevator whisked them upward. "If you keep glowering like that, your face might freeze that way."

"I think it already has," Tony sighed. Rumiko just laughed and took his hand again. The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and Tony let himself be tugged in her wake, across the penthouse living room and into the bedroom.

Where Steve Rogers was waiting in a chair by the bed, sprawled in a relaxed manner that suggested he'd been there at least a few minutes.

"Uh." Tony said. Which, okay, wasn't one of his most articulate moments ever. But his brain was so preoccupied with searching for a sensible reason why Steve would be in Rumiko's bedroom that there wasn't any processing space left for verbal skills.

"Happy brithday, Tony." Steve sounded tenative, and a little shy. He rose from the chair and took a step forward, then hesitated, as if he was unsure where to go next.

"Uh." Tony looked around the room and made a superheroic effort to regain his language skills. "Is this a surprise party? Where's everyone else?"

"No party." Steve smiled, and Tony's breath caught in his throat. "Just the three of us."

"I invited him." Rumiko wrapped one arm around Tony's waist and leaned close to whisper in his ear. She sounded very pleased with herself. Her breath was warm against Tony's cheek, and a lock of her hair fell forward to tickle his neck. This close, he could smell her perfume, a faint lilac scent that made him want to pull her into his arms and trail kisses all over her skin. Which he really couldn't do with Steve standing right there.

And why was Steve standing right there? They still hadn't cleared that up. "You invited him? Why?"

"It's your birthday present." Rumiko beckoned, and Steve came closer. His face was a little flushed, but Tony had a feeling it wasn't from embarrassment.

"Are you okay with this?" Steve rested his hand against the small of Tony's back. "Rumiko said you'd like it, but I'll go if you don't."

"This is--" Tony stopped and licked his lips. His throat felt dry and his heart was pounding, and he was more turned on than he ever remembered being in the course of a highly misspent life. "Is this what I think it is? Did you actually invite Captain America over for a threesome?"

"I know you, Tony." Rumiko loosened Tony's tie and pulled it over his head. "I know what it means when you look at me a certain way. Did you think I wouldn't notice when you looked at him that way too?"

Actually, Tony had thought exactly that. Or rather, he'd thought that he was doing a better job concealing his reaction to Steve. He should've known Rumiko wouldn't be fooled.

She knew and she didn't mind. And Steve knew, and he didn't mind. This was all his hottest private fantasies, coming true at once.

"Damn, woman." He blinked at Rumiko, who was now unbuttoning his shirt. "You actually got him to agree to this? I'm bringing you to every business negotiation I have for the rest of my life."

"She was very persuasive." Steve stepped behind Tony, pulled Tony's suit jacket off his shoulders and down his arms, let it fall to the floor between them. "Then again, I was pretty willing to be persuaded." He reached around to undo Tony's trousers just as Rumiko dropped to her knees.

Damn, Tony thought as he closed his eyes and let his head fall back onto Steve's broad shoulder.

Best birthday ever.

[(Anonymous)]

Marvel Adventures; Steve hasn't quite caught up with celebrity culture, and has some touchingly innocent views on the integrity of the press. When he reads in a tabloid that his boyfriend Tony is dating a beautiful and talented actor/actress, he believes it. Cue Tony's frantic efforts to find out why Steve is avoiding him and dodging his calls, and why all the other Avengers are glaring at him.

Marvel Adventures

[truthiness_aura]

A fresh out of the ice Steve has never seen a microwave before. Tony teaches him how to use it but can't resist showing him the many ways it shouldn't be used- blowing up marshmallows, exploding potatos, melting plastics, etc. Hijinks (and bonding) ensue.

Re: Marvel Adventures

[truthiness_aura]

(Addendum: Within ten seconds of posting this entry, a pot on my stove bubbled over. Stupid poetic justice.)

[tsukinofaerii]

White Collar crossover
Early 616 (when Tony still had a secret identity): Tony has a lot of enemies, and one tries to frame him for something that gets the White Collar unit involved. Of course, Agent Burke is interested in Tony's unusual comings and goings, and his suspiciously unknown "bodyguard". Neal is mostly interested in making eyes at Tony, who's making eyes right back. Steve isn't really happy with that, and doesn't quite get why.

(Okay, so it's possibly more than a comment fic if someone wants to run with it. ¬¬ I admit nothing.)

[tsukinofaerii]

Tony has a filter in the armor's helmet that surrounds Steve in hearts and sparkles (like a shoujo manga).

[(Anonymous)]

Because he *completely* does.

Hurt/Comfort

[(Anonymous)]

Blood dripping out from the armor is one of the most terrifying things Steve's seen.

[(Anonymous)]

Ultimates; Steve likes to snuggle, but it's embarrassing and stressful enough propositioning Tony for sex, never mind cuddling afterwards.

Sex and The Absence of Cuddles (filled! and long!) part I

[jazzypom]

"Death and taxes, always a constant," Tony'd always say, as he reached for his squat glass tumbler and whatever whiskey of the day Jarvis set on his table. Another constant thankfully - was sex. Still the same, sweaty kind, be it the laughter tinged fumbles with Gail, as she played with his straps and buckles. Leave it on, she'd say. Or Jan with her sly touches in the shades of darkness fifty years later. Still the sweat and heat and touch never changed.

Sex with Tony, well. When they got to it- it was something. He never had to be gentle with Tony. Actually, the rougher it got - the more it turned them both on.

Even though each time they hooked up, Tony insisted on making a Federal case of it, right from the outset.

"When I heard the term 'Gemini' I thought, twins. Comely twins at that," Tony's tone tacked perilously close to mild annoyance, as sections of his armor opened, and his assistants scrambled to get him out of it, toweling down the fluid that kept his body from being jarred and bruised as he flew around in his suit, Jarvis hovering close by with a dirty martini on a tray.

Steve only tugged at his gloves - now scalded and threadbare. This time, he stopped a rocket, without falling into the sea, and sleeping for another fifty years.

"If you'd come to the briefing Tony, you've have been prepared."

"I only have room for one Carol Danvers," Tony replied, as he shrugged into his robe, as they took the lift from basement to the top floor of the mansion that Tony took over for himself. "A fascinatingly attractive woman, but the only part of girl scout I'm interested in is her-"

"Cookies?" Steve raised his hand in annoyance., trying to head Tony's innuendo off at the pass.

Tony laughed, before taking a sip from the dainty glass. "You've cracked a joke, and amused me, Steve. Well done." He raised the glass in Steve's direction, a half salute, only for the liquid to slosh across Steve's hand.

Steve let out a half exasperated hiss, as he shook his hand. Not that he disliked alcohol. He liked wine well enough, but Tony's drinks were just too strong, and he made to wipe his hand on his uniform when Tony grabbed his wrist - and absently licked it, a long hot swipe of tongue from finger to wrist.

"What are you- ?" Steve almost choked on the words, the rasp of Tony's tongue and the scrape of stubble an altogether new, and singularly pleasant sensation.

"It's good liquor, even if it's only on your hand, Steve."

And in retrospect, it might have been the smile that set it off. Whatever it was, Steve followed its lead. Tony slammed against the wall, body still slick with the armor fluid, as he stripped Tony's robe off.

His mouth pressed against Tony's, spit and teeth, chased down with the burn of a double dirty martini on breath. Steve's hand pressed against the wall, and he wanted more, only for Tony's hand- fingers splayed, and firm, with the force of his weight behind it- for Steve to stop.

"What?"

"You have to ask me first."

"What?" Steve repeated, senses addled as all the blood in his brain shot south. Not believing, he went in for the kill again, aiming for mouth.

"I'm serious, Steve."

"You mean, like'mother, may I?'"

"If that's your kink," Tony smiled, the distance between Steve and himself an arm's length, yet a continent away. The heat pumping off Tony's body betrayed him, but the lines in his face, still set. "Still, it's always nice to be asked."

What the-? Steve thought, but he wanted to follow and see where this lead. After Jan, and- there'd been no one since Jan- and he'd nurse his regrets in the morning, if it came to that.

"Tony," the words came out in a growl. "May I?"

The smile Tony aimed at Steve was brilliant. "Yes," he said, as Steve's finger hooked in the elastic of his briefs and dragged them down. "You may."

***

At the words, Tony and Steve charged at each other, went down on the thick carpet like warring cats. Steve half ripped his uniform off, in oder to press his skin against Tony's. His laughter in his ear, before Tony's mouth and teeth descended on skin. "There's so much of you." Tony nipped at his neck, as Steve's hands slipped and skidded on skin. No talking he wanted to say, as his lips pressed against Tony's one more time. But sex with Tony seemed to come with running commentary, and not the one he was used to. No shocked giggle, or besotted nuzzling.

Sex with Tony -nothing but a goddamn battle. Grasping, grabbing. Grunts and stuff that made him laugh at the odd moment. "C'mon, soldier, show me why Uncle Sam went into fifty years of widow's weeds when you - oh my. Is that all for me?"

"Fuck you, Tony."

"I... thought this was the plan?"

Oh yeah,Steve laughed, it was.

At the end of it, Steve stirred, throwing his arm across the carpet- and Tony, already sitting up. His cancer now in remission, Tony had gained weight - even with alcohol-more along the line of muscle and sinew. He didn't look in danger of death any more, the hollows in his face filling out, and him looking less worn. Naked, with a dark arrow of hair inching from navel to the hollows of his thighs, blocking the now spent member that Steve had had his way with.

"You're up?" Steve asked, slowly wagging his fingers, with Tony just out of reach. He wanted to trace patterns on Tony's skin, to see if he'd goosebump with a touch. Sex was - nothing compared to sex. But cuddling, to feel grounded and no so alone- the best part.

"It's sex- good sex, I'll grant you that. But still sex, Steve. Not a marathon. Besides-" Tony shifted to his feet, grabbing his robe and punching his fists through the sleeves. "I have a conference call to China in the next three hours."

"There's always daylight somewhere."

"Yes," Tony's eyes softened for a bit, before he moved to the bathroom. "Always."

oOo

Steve had a plan. Probably the reason why Tony didn't cuddle might have been the fact that he didn't get tired enough. Or not at all. Probably, if they had sex until Tony said when - he'd get cuddles after sex.

But again, Tony made a federal case out of things.

"Sex, again?" Tony raised an eyebrow. They were in the laundermat below the kitchen - away from the help. "Not that I'm not flattered, but-"

"Are you seeing someone?" Steve inched away. "I thought that you and Carol-"

"She's lovely, absolutely fascinating- but no, that ran its course sometime ago."

"Oh?" Steve replied.

"Oh." Tony repeated. "She made me want to be a better man - I honestly couldn't keep up with my nobler intentions. So."

"I don't really care what sort of man you are."

"I get that."

"So-?"

"So?" Tony asked, even as Steve grabbed Tony's hand and pressed his palm flat against his groin.

"Do I need to..." he scowled. "Give you an invitation?"

"It would be nice," Tony stepped into Steve's space, his breath ghosting across Steve's cheek and ear. "On heavy bonded paper, Smythson's would be ideal. There's nothing quite like an invite in the post."

"I'll send it to you in the mail." Steve grabbed Tony's shirt, and took him down. The sheets and clothing cushioned their fall, and Steve hauled Tony against him. The second time around, they knew which buttons to push. Him licking his way into Tony's mouth, his knee nudging against Tony's thighs, as he reached into his pockets for lube and condoms.

"Someone's prepared."

"Boy scout," Steve said between kisses."You weren't interested in cookies, remember?"

"Hmmm."

***

Steve briefly closed his eyes, catching his breath. He - no, they- truly got ahead of themselves this time.

He felt Tony move on their makeshift bed of half sheets and clothing. Steve opened his hand, spread his arm; a tacit motion of Tony to come right here and cuddle. He turned towards his companion, only to see Tony lifting a a frothy lacey bit of stuff from his face.

"Yours?"

"No,"Steve said, biting his lips because his cheeks were burning. "Uhhh... no."

"Too bad. It would be interesting to see how you'd go." Tony's fingers rubbed against the gusset of panties. "Oh, well."

With that, Tony was up, picking up his clothing. He scanned the room for his tie, and chuckled, giving it up for lost.

"Tony." Steve said, not wanting to do something so obvious as to pat the space beside him. Tony looked up, half buttoning his shirt, his legs - save his underwear on- inside and out- bare.

"Steve?"

And Steve's fingers formed into a fist as he thumped the space beside him.

"Nothing at all," Steve shook his head. "Nothing at all."

"All right," Tony nodded, and Steve folded his arms under his head and stared at the ceiling.

[(Anonymous)]

Tony and Steve go to the mall. Tony decides to 'improve' on the machines in the arcade, Steve tries to explain why the machines are alive to the kids who just wanted to play video games.

[(Anonymous)]

Ultimates; Tony's trying very hard to be well-behaved and a model boyfriend to Steve. Steve is trying to work out how to tell Tony if he'd wanted a model boyfriend, he would never have hooked up with Tony.

Prompt filled! A New Suit.

[jazzypom]

As an Ultimate, and pretty much the sponsor of the team, Tony Stark had to be present at parties. Truth be told though, he loved them and the treats displayed; the pop of light, the women, with skirts riding high on their thighs. With men, how they filled out in their suits. Both sexes, eyes sly, and mouths curved with unsaid invite.

God, Tony sighed, allowing the waitstaff to pass by laden with trays of assorted alcoholic beverages, it's so hard being good.

"Mr Stark?" the bartender greeted. The party was in full swing, and most people instead of being at the fully manned bar, they were on the dance floor, or in corners- or probably getting to know each other in more intimate ways in the rooms above. Well, that's what hotels were for.

"A virgin strawberry daiquiri, darling."

The bartender did a double take. "Mr Stark?"

"People keep telling me that parties are actually fun, sober,” Tony sighed, as he gave a half hearted wave. “You know what they say – if three people tell you that you’re drunk-“

“Keep drinking?”

Tony laughed, admiring the barkeep’s moxie. Also how she filled out the simple lines of her shirt, but because he was trying to be good, he raised his eyes to her face, and kept them there.

“A woman after my own heart, but I’m giving the ‘lie down’ part a try.”

“One virgin strawberry daiquiri coming right up.”

Tony swivelled on the stool, eyes scanning the sea of faces, not realising the besotted smile on his face when he sighted Steve.

This wasn’t a party for the press, as much as say, for the workers at the Triskelion, and as such Steve wasn’t in his dress – blues? Whites? Greens? He never remembered, but he should, considering he and Steve were –together? A feat he hardly believed possible – not that he had been looking for possible, or Steve.

***

Like a good business match, they’d come together. After a bit of wrangling, and negotiation, push and pull, they ended up in bed.

Tony might have been drunk, but he remembered how they got there, with the hickey bites blooming on his skin to prove it. As well as the rubbery feeling in his legs, and the marks at his wrists – and Steve under him when he woke up that morning- the sun aiming its rays on to Tony’s face like a kill shot.

“Now, this is a good morning.” Tony held up his hand across his face, before muttering, “Dim light.” The room suddenly plunged into semi darkness as if a cloud stole across the sun.

“Tony,” his name a sigh in sleep thickened notes, as Steve’s eyes drifted open.

“Can I get you anything- scotch, bourbon, Jagermiester ?”

“No,” Steve’s hands drifted to Tony’s waist, as he shifted Tony off him to one side. “Don’t you eat breakfast?”

Tony’s mind went blank. What? Steve must have seen it, because he just gave one of those… vague waves and stalked towards the bathroom, all big, peach and gold and naked. Steve’s form – Michelangelo would have wept. Tony only drooled, transfixed until Steve closed the door behind him, with an audible click.

Tony shook his head, and reaching over to the night table, pressed a switch on his phone.

“Can you send up breakfast?”

“Sure, Mr Stark,” and that might have been Hilda, the chirpy blonde Swede. Lovely manner at night o’ clock, but at this time of day a bit full on. “What will it be?”

“Whatever people have for breakfast? Something they’d serve at a… greasy spoon?”

“Coming right up.”

***

Tony sipped at his drink, only to recoil and push it away. It was so sharp, it made his eyes water.

“What’s wrong?” The voice at his ear – although he’d been out of ice for the past few years, at times, it still sounded as if he’d been beamed from those PSAs of the 1940s.

“My drink.” Tony indicated with a nod, as he passed it over. Steve didn’t take it, and Tony sighed.

“It won’t besmirch your honour holding a glass in your hand.”

“It looks- “

“Glasses are gender neutral, Steve.” Tony pressed.

“Hold the straw, then, and take off that garnish.”

Sighing, Tony did as told, and handed over the glass, only for Steve to sip at the drink. Made a puzzled face, before it gave way to pleasure, and he started drinking in earnest.

“This is pretty good. It’s like fruit juice, without the alcohol.”

“It is,” Tony sighed, his elbow resting on the counter. “Sans alcohol, sans life, sans every thing.”

Steve laid his hand on Tony’s shoulder. “Are you okay, Stark?”

“I am.”

“So… what’s this?”

“I hear that parties are actually fun when you’re sober. Fun, even.”

“Oh, so that’s why you haven’t been flirting with every skirt here?”

“Ah, you’re trying the ‘Level gaze’ on me, Steve? I’m not on the wrong side of the law-"

“Mostly.”

“It won’t work.”

“Tony,” Steve’s voice all tones of exasperation now, as he sat on the stool beside Tony. Their knees touched, and normally Tony would have edged a bit closer, leaned over and whisper something scandalous in Steve’s ear. He didn’t, however, because as much as he and Steve had an understanding, there was still something exciting about having this- them- away from the tabloids and for oneself.

“Tony,” Steve repeated. “What are you- ?”

“We’re something now, and you’re Captain Rogers. You have a certain role to play, and I’m trying decorum- and it’s been quite so ill fitting.”

“Wait- you’re trying to say. That’s why you’ve been drinking orange juice, and generally acting like a nun?”

A nun? The thought electrified Tony with horror. He hadn’t been that bad, had he?

“Tony,” Steve leaned over, and nudged Tony’s arm with the back of his hand. “If I wanted someone else, I’d have looked for someone else. I don’t-“ and he broke off laughing, as if this were a surprise to him too, and Tony felt something in him thaw, soften.

“I like you, Tony.” Steve’s voice carried in his ear. “The fact that you find everything funny, and you’re generous enough to tell me why; everywhere you go, there’s a party, and everyone’s invited, and –“ Steve’s smile reached his eyes, warming them from their frigid Irish blue. “I need that. I need you."

“Alcohol?”

“Even nuns drink wine, Tony.”

“My wandering eye?”

“As long as you don’t touch, there isn’t any harm in looking.” At Tony’s raised eyebrow, Steve coloured, as he finished. “You taught me that. Besides, you’re not one to wear an ill fitted suit, Tony. I’m ashamed for you.”

“Well.” Tony let out a sharp breath. “There’s a suite upstairs I’ve been dying to try. Mirrors on the ceiling – risky and eurotrash. If you want to get me out of my suit, figuratively and literally-“

Steve grabbed his hand, and dragged him off the stool.

Fin.

ETA, damn, I did it from Tony's pov instead of Steve's. I'm so sorry!!