velithya (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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cap_ironman2008-07-15 06:47 pm
velithya) wrote in cap_ironman2008-07-15 06:47 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: Momentary Paws (or, DO NOT WANT) 5/5 + Epilogue
Thanks again guys for all your comments as I've been posting. It seems like you've had as much fun reading the story as I've had writing it, and I hope that the finale lives up to your expectations! :)
Title: Momentary Paws (or, DO NOT WANT) 5/5 + Epilogue
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
velithya
Rating: R
Pairing: Steve/Tony (preslash)
Disclaimer: The characters belong to Marvel. I'm just playing in their sandbox.
Summary: WTF KITTEN
Word Count: 16,831 total, 2551 this section
Previously: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Momentary Paws (or, DO NOT WANT)
Part 5
The flight back to the Tower is silent but for the rush of passing air. Steve hasn't put Tony back into the pouch, is cradling him in both arms, shield on his back, but Tony doesn't feel unsafe - quite the opposite. He knows Steve won't drop him, and Steve is solid and warm, something to pull him out of his sudden disconnect. Facing those cats - seeing them so far from home, searching and lost and lonely-
Tony shakes himself mentally. He can't be their God for them, can't help them find what they're after, but he can keep an eye on them, stop them getting into too much trouble. It's only a moments work to issue the nearest satellite instructions, and now they're being tracked. He'll be able to find them in an instant if necessary, wherever they go in the world.
The armour lands them gently on the roof, Tony letting Steve go with the back of his mind, armour heading to the garage to power down. Steve takes Tony inside, heading down the corridor and into their room. Tony shakes his head. He really must be spacing out. It's not their room, it's Steve's room, and the sooner he remembers that the less it's going to hurt when he turns back to normal and Steve shuts the door in his face. Not that Steve would ever shut a door in his face, really, more a metaphorical door, although Tony would bet that he could probably make Steve mad enough to-
Steve puts him down on the counter in the bathroom, and starts running the taps in the sink.
The counter is cold under his paws, and he turns to look at Steve, blinking. *Steve? What-*
Steve tests the water with his thumb, then hits the switch to close the drain. "You're having a bath," he says.
*What? No,* Tony says automatically.
"Tony," Steve says, watching the water level in the basin rise slowly, "you might be a kitten right now but you have not had a shower in days."
*Cats hate water,* Tony says. *It's a documented-*
"Last time I checked, you were the one using up the hot water every day," Steve says over him. He turns the taps off, looking at Tony. "Stop complaining and get in."
Tony steps gingerly down onto the edge of the basin, balancing somewhat precariously on the narrow rim. He dips a paw into the water. Steve has the temperature just right, at least, so it's not like he's going to freeze.
Steve shifts his shoulders, then starts slipping his arms out of the shield straps. Tony pokes the other paw in this time, and Steve sets the shield against the wall and comes back over to him.
"It's not going to hurt you, I promise," Steve says, running a hand over Tony's back, and Tony mrows at him and slips in.
There's a moment where the water closes over his head and he sinks, sensation of water moving through his fur the only thing he can feel. Then his paws shift, almost of their own accord, and he splutters his way back to the surface, paddling to keep afloat.
"Okay?" Steve asks, and Tony paddles carefully to the edge of the basin nearest Steve, looking up.
*It's the world's tiniest swimming pool,* he says.
"Well, you're the world's tiniest kitten," Steve says. "Hold on, I'll get my shampoo."
He pokes his head into the shower, blue blur through frosted glass as he grabs the bottle, and comes back over, pulling off his gloves and dropping them against the wall near the shield. He starts to roll up his sleeves, eyes off Tony and the basin, then shrugs and hauls his entire shirt off.
*I'm not going to splash that much,* Tony says.
Steve just snorts, clicking the bottle open, then fishes Tony out of the water. "Close your eyes," he says.
Tony squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath. He can feel the coolness as Steve squeeze the shampoo onto him, then the bottle is set down on the counter and Steve's other hand is working it into a lather through his fur. He's suddenly, fiercely glad that he's a kitten right now, because this is something he can never have normally, will never have once things get straightened out. Steve's fingers are gentle, careful, and Tony just stands and breathes, soaking it in.
"Okay," Steve says, finally, "hold your breath, I'll rinse you off."
Tony takes a breath, and then he's back in the water, Steve running fingers through his fur to clean off the shampoo. When he's done he lifts Tony out again, flicking the switch to drain.
"Let me just run some water over you," he says, "and I'll towel you off."
Tony blinks open his eyes carefully as Steve turns the taps again, testing the water, and then closes them hurriedly as Steve puts him under the spray, sluicing the last few suds from him.
"Okay," Steve says finally, taps squeaking closed, and Tony opens his eyes to see Steve grabbing a towel off the rack.
Steve towels him mostly dry and then turns him out of the bathroom. "I'll grab you some food in a few minutes," he says. A few moments later, the shower turns on.
*Okay,* Tony says, and leaps up onto his chair, sitting down. He half-closes his eyes and tries not to think about anything in particular. His damp fur seems heavier than normal, thick and clumping at the ends, and Tony kind of wants to stand up and shake it off like a dog, only he's pretty sure that it'll get him kicked out of the kitten club. Also he's not sure he could actually do that without falling over, and he looks dumb enough already.
The shower turns off, and Tony yawns, resisting the sudden urge to lick himself drier. What with the lobsters, and the news report, and the cats, he hasn't really given much thought to his own situation. If it was some sort of supervillan's master plan, they really should have come along to laugh at him by now, at least judging from the supervillans Tony's familiar with.
The bathroom door clicks open, Steve coming out in sweats and a shirt. "Come on, then," Steve says, and picks him up. "Dinner time."
Steve is warm, and Tony leans against him. It's not imperative that he gets turned back, come to think of it; it's not like he can't still pilot the armour and run his company and do everything else he does normally like this. One day won't make a difference, but like this it's one more day he can spend close to Steve.
He'll start looking tomorrow.
***
After dinner Steve stretches out on the couch with his book, Tony curled up on his chest. He's still damp, and without Steve's heat it's too cold for him by himself. Steve doesn't seem to mind that Tony's leaving wet marks all over his shirt, and when his free hand isn't turning pages he rests it over Tony's back.
Tony declares a personal moratorium on work, and closes his email, his messages, and does the mental equivalent of switching off his cell (which means diverting it to Pepper's cell, but she doesn't mind that much, by which he means it's only a 5 minute lecture if she happens to get any calls, and Tony is totally fine with that). Tonight he is going to just stay here, with Steve, and make the most of it. He's going to remember as much as he can, because sure, Steve is pretty much Tony's best friend, but Tony's pretty sure that isn't leeway to spend an evening basically curled up on him. So yeah, Tony's going to remember this. He's going to remember this for the rest of his life.
Peter and MJ drift down the hall and into the kitchen, soft clatter of dishes as they grab dinner themselves. Peter wanders out at one point, greeting Steve, and then double-takes as he notices Tony, curled up in the centre of a damp spot on Steve's shirt.
"Did you fall in a bucket?" Peter says, and Tony snorts. Peter is still not wearing his communicator, which means Tony is going to ignore him.
"No, I gave him a bath," Steve says. "He'll catch a chill if he's doesn't stay warm while he dries off."
Tony sneezes theatrically, and then sneezes another half dozen times involuntarily. He'd better not be catching a cold, goddammit, and hell if even his sneezes aren't the most pathetic thing he's ever heard.
Peter takes a step back, hands up. "Woah!" he says. "Okay, I'm going back to the kitchen where the worst I'm going to catch is a spoon to the knuckles."
"I heard that!" MJ singsongs from the kitchen, and Peter hurries back through the door.
Tony snuffles a bit longer, and then buries his head back into Steve's shirt.
He dozes for bit, on and off, although he's always aware of Steve, warm and solid and comforting. Steve is his compass, even more so now, and Tony thinks he might be more comfortable here than anywhere else he's ever been, armour excepted. Steve isn't going to tell him he's worthless and then try and kill him, and he certainly isn't going to die on him. Steve is - and Tony shifts a little, trying to wriggle closer, Steve's hand on his back pressing reassurances. Steve is-
"Come on," Steve says, closing his book. "Bedtime for superheroes."
Tony mrows sleepy protest, but it's all for show - he is tired, and now that he has several perfect hours engraved into his memory he thinks he can let go enough to sleep. Steve braces Tony with his free hand as he gets to his feet, taking them down the hall to his room. Tony takes his turn in the bathroom first, and once he's done and Steve's done they hop into bed.
Steve lies down first, Tony curling up on his chest once he's settled. He rests a light hand on Tony's back, keeping him warm, and Tony purrs his thanks.
"Goodnight," Steve says, softly, and Tony takes one last image of the day to remember, one last, perfect moment.
*Goodnight.*
Steve is home.
***
On a mountain half the world away, a woman stirs from sleep. She uncurls her arms and sits up, red hair slipping forward over her shoulder as she hugs the comforter around her. She can remember dreaming, long and deeply, but now that she's awake, everything is fading, cobwebs that slip through her fingers as she tries to reach for them.
There were cats, she thinks, although maybe they were birds, since she can remember wings, soaring across the sky. And maybe something about crabs? It's all fading too fast, but the final part of the dream is the most clear, and she can remember feeling safe, content. Loved.
She sits a moment more, holding onto the feelings until the last fragments have splintered into dust, irretrievable, and then shakes her head, sliding from the bed. It's not important, and she should let it go. After all, it was just a dream.
Just a dream.
Epilogue
Steve wakes abruptly. He's not tensed for battle, so there's nothing wrong, but there's something different. He keeps his eyes closed, doing a quick inventory of his surroundings. The bedroom is quiet but for his and Tony's breathing, nothing else moving around. The temperature is normal, and Tony is sprawled half across him, warm, head on his shoulder and leg slung over his own.
Maybe a noise from outside? Although since they're on the top floors, it would have to be an awfully loud noise, or a very low-flying craft - and then Tony shifts slightly, crowding closer to Steve under Steve's encircling arm, and Steve realises that what's changed is Tony.
He opens his eyes, shifting his head ever-so-slightly so he can see, Tony sprawled boneless and completely human across him, messy hair brushing Steve's collarbone. Tony shifts a little more, and Steve realises that Tony is also completely naked apart from his leather collar. Not that Steve minds, of course, but Tony will probably totally freak out about it.
Steve lets his head rest back on the pillow, absently trailing his fingers gently over Tony's back. He's got several options here, and it's only fair that he consider all of them.
He could kick Tony out right now, of course, but he discards that almost immediately. Tony's his best friend, his - well, his best friend, and he's not going to do that to him when he's just spent several traumatic days as a tiny kitten. At the very least, Tony doesn't normally get enough sleep, so Steve will damn well make sure that he doesn't have any untoward interruptions.
He could wait until Tony wakes up, make sure he's okay, and then kick him out. It's not like Tony wouldn't understand - he's spent most of the last three days straight looking after him and making sure he's okay, and Tony can definitely understand the need for personal space, given how prickly he can sometimes be. On the other hand, doing that would make Tony get that wounded look, the one that says you've just ripped out his heart and stomped on it, even when what you've said you thought was totally innocuous, and Steve doesn't want to be the one to put that look in Tony's eyes. Besides, it's Tony. It's not like he was a huge burden. Steve just doesn't think that Tony would have been comfortable with any of the others looking after him. He can't imagine him sleeping on Peter, for example - although he could imagine him sleeping on Jessica, and okay, there's a mental image Steve doesn't need.
Okay, so, he's not kicking Tony out now, and he's not kicking him out in the morning. That leaves the one Steve has been avoiding thinking about, because when the other person in question is a tiny cat it's more than a little disturbing. The thing is, Tony has been spending all his time in Steve's personal space, and maybe it's just because he'd been a kind-of-helpless tiny kitten, but maybe it's because that's where he felt most comfortable. And it could be because he's Steve's best friend or it could be because of the other thing and maybe Steve is just over-thinking this.
One thing he does know for sure - if Tony wakes up before Steve does, he'll try and sneak out, and then Steve will never get a straight answer out of him short of knocking him out, tying him down and then poking him with a stick. And amusing as that image is, obviously Steve will just have to make sure he doesn't get away.
He smiles fondly down at Tony, and locks his hands together behind Tony's back. Tony has enough room to shift around still, but unless he turns back into a kitten he's not going anywhere.
Tony makes a sleepy noise, pressing closer to Steve, and Steve turns his head, resting his chin against Tony's hair. Yeah, this was fine.
He could definitely get used to this.
Title: Momentary Paws (or, DO NOT WANT) 5/5 + Epilogue
Author:
velithyaRating: R
Pairing: Steve/Tony (preslash)
Disclaimer: The characters belong to Marvel. I'm just playing in their sandbox.
Summary: WTF KITTEN
Word Count: 16,831 total, 2551 this section
Previously: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Part 5
The flight back to the Tower is silent but for the rush of passing air. Steve hasn't put Tony back into the pouch, is cradling him in both arms, shield on his back, but Tony doesn't feel unsafe - quite the opposite. He knows Steve won't drop him, and Steve is solid and warm, something to pull him out of his sudden disconnect. Facing those cats - seeing them so far from home, searching and lost and lonely-
Tony shakes himself mentally. He can't be their God for them, can't help them find what they're after, but he can keep an eye on them, stop them getting into too much trouble. It's only a moments work to issue the nearest satellite instructions, and now they're being tracked. He'll be able to find them in an instant if necessary, wherever they go in the world.
The armour lands them gently on the roof, Tony letting Steve go with the back of his mind, armour heading to the garage to power down. Steve takes Tony inside, heading down the corridor and into their room. Tony shakes his head. He really must be spacing out. It's not their room, it's Steve's room, and the sooner he remembers that the less it's going to hurt when he turns back to normal and Steve shuts the door in his face. Not that Steve would ever shut a door in his face, really, more a metaphorical door, although Tony would bet that he could probably make Steve mad enough to-
Steve puts him down on the counter in the bathroom, and starts running the taps in the sink.
The counter is cold under his paws, and he turns to look at Steve, blinking. *Steve? What-*
Steve tests the water with his thumb, then hits the switch to close the drain. "You're having a bath," he says.
*What? No,* Tony says automatically.
"Tony," Steve says, watching the water level in the basin rise slowly, "you might be a kitten right now but you have not had a shower in days."
*Cats hate water,* Tony says. *It's a documented-*
"Last time I checked, you were the one using up the hot water every day," Steve says over him. He turns the taps off, looking at Tony. "Stop complaining and get in."
Tony steps gingerly down onto the edge of the basin, balancing somewhat precariously on the narrow rim. He dips a paw into the water. Steve has the temperature just right, at least, so it's not like he's going to freeze.
Steve shifts his shoulders, then starts slipping his arms out of the shield straps. Tony pokes the other paw in this time, and Steve sets the shield against the wall and comes back over to him.
"It's not going to hurt you, I promise," Steve says, running a hand over Tony's back, and Tony mrows at him and slips in.
There's a moment where the water closes over his head and he sinks, sensation of water moving through his fur the only thing he can feel. Then his paws shift, almost of their own accord, and he splutters his way back to the surface, paddling to keep afloat.
"Okay?" Steve asks, and Tony paddles carefully to the edge of the basin nearest Steve, looking up.
*It's the world's tiniest swimming pool,* he says.
"Well, you're the world's tiniest kitten," Steve says. "Hold on, I'll get my shampoo."
He pokes his head into the shower, blue blur through frosted glass as he grabs the bottle, and comes back over, pulling off his gloves and dropping them against the wall near the shield. He starts to roll up his sleeves, eyes off Tony and the basin, then shrugs and hauls his entire shirt off.
*I'm not going to splash that much,* Tony says.
Steve just snorts, clicking the bottle open, then fishes Tony out of the water. "Close your eyes," he says.
Tony squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath. He can feel the coolness as Steve squeeze the shampoo onto him, then the bottle is set down on the counter and Steve's other hand is working it into a lather through his fur. He's suddenly, fiercely glad that he's a kitten right now, because this is something he can never have normally, will never have once things get straightened out. Steve's fingers are gentle, careful, and Tony just stands and breathes, soaking it in.
"Okay," Steve says, finally, "hold your breath, I'll rinse you off."
Tony takes a breath, and then he's back in the water, Steve running fingers through his fur to clean off the shampoo. When he's done he lifts Tony out again, flicking the switch to drain.
"Let me just run some water over you," he says, "and I'll towel you off."
Tony blinks open his eyes carefully as Steve turns the taps again, testing the water, and then closes them hurriedly as Steve puts him under the spray, sluicing the last few suds from him.
"Okay," Steve says finally, taps squeaking closed, and Tony opens his eyes to see Steve grabbing a towel off the rack.
Steve towels him mostly dry and then turns him out of the bathroom. "I'll grab you some food in a few minutes," he says. A few moments later, the shower turns on.
*Okay,* Tony says, and leaps up onto his chair, sitting down. He half-closes his eyes and tries not to think about anything in particular. His damp fur seems heavier than normal, thick and clumping at the ends, and Tony kind of wants to stand up and shake it off like a dog, only he's pretty sure that it'll get him kicked out of the kitten club. Also he's not sure he could actually do that without falling over, and he looks dumb enough already.
The shower turns off, and Tony yawns, resisting the sudden urge to lick himself drier. What with the lobsters, and the news report, and the cats, he hasn't really given much thought to his own situation. If it was some sort of supervillan's master plan, they really should have come along to laugh at him by now, at least judging from the supervillans Tony's familiar with.
The bathroom door clicks open, Steve coming out in sweats and a shirt. "Come on, then," Steve says, and picks him up. "Dinner time."
Steve is warm, and Tony leans against him. It's not imperative that he gets turned back, come to think of it; it's not like he can't still pilot the armour and run his company and do everything else he does normally like this. One day won't make a difference, but like this it's one more day he can spend close to Steve.
He'll start looking tomorrow.
***
After dinner Steve stretches out on the couch with his book, Tony curled up on his chest. He's still damp, and without Steve's heat it's too cold for him by himself. Steve doesn't seem to mind that Tony's leaving wet marks all over his shirt, and when his free hand isn't turning pages he rests it over Tony's back.
Tony declares a personal moratorium on work, and closes his email, his messages, and does the mental equivalent of switching off his cell (which means diverting it to Pepper's cell, but she doesn't mind that much, by which he means it's only a 5 minute lecture if she happens to get any calls, and Tony is totally fine with that). Tonight he is going to just stay here, with Steve, and make the most of it. He's going to remember as much as he can, because sure, Steve is pretty much Tony's best friend, but Tony's pretty sure that isn't leeway to spend an evening basically curled up on him. So yeah, Tony's going to remember this. He's going to remember this for the rest of his life.
Peter and MJ drift down the hall and into the kitchen, soft clatter of dishes as they grab dinner themselves. Peter wanders out at one point, greeting Steve, and then double-takes as he notices Tony, curled up in the centre of a damp spot on Steve's shirt.
"Did you fall in a bucket?" Peter says, and Tony snorts. Peter is still not wearing his communicator, which means Tony is going to ignore him.
"No, I gave him a bath," Steve says. "He'll catch a chill if he's doesn't stay warm while he dries off."
Tony sneezes theatrically, and then sneezes another half dozen times involuntarily. He'd better not be catching a cold, goddammit, and hell if even his sneezes aren't the most pathetic thing he's ever heard.
Peter takes a step back, hands up. "Woah!" he says. "Okay, I'm going back to the kitchen where the worst I'm going to catch is a spoon to the knuckles."
"I heard that!" MJ singsongs from the kitchen, and Peter hurries back through the door.
Tony snuffles a bit longer, and then buries his head back into Steve's shirt.
He dozes for bit, on and off, although he's always aware of Steve, warm and solid and comforting. Steve is his compass, even more so now, and Tony thinks he might be more comfortable here than anywhere else he's ever been, armour excepted. Steve isn't going to tell him he's worthless and then try and kill him, and he certainly isn't going to die on him. Steve is - and Tony shifts a little, trying to wriggle closer, Steve's hand on his back pressing reassurances. Steve is-
"Come on," Steve says, closing his book. "Bedtime for superheroes."
Tony mrows sleepy protest, but it's all for show - he is tired, and now that he has several perfect hours engraved into his memory he thinks he can let go enough to sleep. Steve braces Tony with his free hand as he gets to his feet, taking them down the hall to his room. Tony takes his turn in the bathroom first, and once he's done and Steve's done they hop into bed.
Steve lies down first, Tony curling up on his chest once he's settled. He rests a light hand on Tony's back, keeping him warm, and Tony purrs his thanks.
"Goodnight," Steve says, softly, and Tony takes one last image of the day to remember, one last, perfect moment.
*Goodnight.*
Steve is home.
***
On a mountain half the world away, a woman stirs from sleep. She uncurls her arms and sits up, red hair slipping forward over her shoulder as she hugs the comforter around her. She can remember dreaming, long and deeply, but now that she's awake, everything is fading, cobwebs that slip through her fingers as she tries to reach for them.
There were cats, she thinks, although maybe they were birds, since she can remember wings, soaring across the sky. And maybe something about crabs? It's all fading too fast, but the final part of the dream is the most clear, and she can remember feeling safe, content. Loved.
She sits a moment more, holding onto the feelings until the last fragments have splintered into dust, irretrievable, and then shakes her head, sliding from the bed. It's not important, and she should let it go. After all, it was just a dream.
Just a dream.
Steve wakes abruptly. He's not tensed for battle, so there's nothing wrong, but there's something different. He keeps his eyes closed, doing a quick inventory of his surroundings. The bedroom is quiet but for his and Tony's breathing, nothing else moving around. The temperature is normal, and Tony is sprawled half across him, warm, head on his shoulder and leg slung over his own.
Maybe a noise from outside? Although since they're on the top floors, it would have to be an awfully loud noise, or a very low-flying craft - and then Tony shifts slightly, crowding closer to Steve under Steve's encircling arm, and Steve realises that what's changed is Tony.
He opens his eyes, shifting his head ever-so-slightly so he can see, Tony sprawled boneless and completely human across him, messy hair brushing Steve's collarbone. Tony shifts a little more, and Steve realises that Tony is also completely naked apart from his leather collar. Not that Steve minds, of course, but Tony will probably totally freak out about it.
Steve lets his head rest back on the pillow, absently trailing his fingers gently over Tony's back. He's got several options here, and it's only fair that he consider all of them.
He could kick Tony out right now, of course, but he discards that almost immediately. Tony's his best friend, his - well, his best friend, and he's not going to do that to him when he's just spent several traumatic days as a tiny kitten. At the very least, Tony doesn't normally get enough sleep, so Steve will damn well make sure that he doesn't have any untoward interruptions.
He could wait until Tony wakes up, make sure he's okay, and then kick him out. It's not like Tony wouldn't understand - he's spent most of the last three days straight looking after him and making sure he's okay, and Tony can definitely understand the need for personal space, given how prickly he can sometimes be. On the other hand, doing that would make Tony get that wounded look, the one that says you've just ripped out his heart and stomped on it, even when what you've said you thought was totally innocuous, and Steve doesn't want to be the one to put that look in Tony's eyes. Besides, it's Tony. It's not like he was a huge burden. Steve just doesn't think that Tony would have been comfortable with any of the others looking after him. He can't imagine him sleeping on Peter, for example - although he could imagine him sleeping on Jessica, and okay, there's a mental image Steve doesn't need.
Okay, so, he's not kicking Tony out now, and he's not kicking him out in the morning. That leaves the one Steve has been avoiding thinking about, because when the other person in question is a tiny cat it's more than a little disturbing. The thing is, Tony has been spending all his time in Steve's personal space, and maybe it's just because he'd been a kind-of-helpless tiny kitten, but maybe it's because that's where he felt most comfortable. And it could be because he's Steve's best friend or it could be because of the other thing and maybe Steve is just over-thinking this.
One thing he does know for sure - if Tony wakes up before Steve does, he'll try and sneak out, and then Steve will never get a straight answer out of him short of knocking him out, tying him down and then poking him with a stick. And amusing as that image is, obviously Steve will just have to make sure he doesn't get away.
He smiles fondly down at Tony, and locks his hands together behind Tony's back. Tony has enough room to shift around still, but unless he turns back into a kitten he's not going anywhere.
Tony makes a sleepy noise, pressing closer to Steve, and Steve turns his head, resting his chin against Tony's hair. Yeah, this was fine.
He could definitely get used to this.