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cap_ironman2008-08-27 11:48 am
macx-larabee.livejournal.com) wrote in cap_ironman2008-08-27 11:48 am
Fic: Withdrawal Symptoms 1/2
TITLE: Withdrawal Symptoms, part 1
Iron Man (movie) and comic-verse mix
AUTHOR: Macx
RATING: NC-17
PAIRING: Steve/Tony
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters belong to me, sadly. They are owned by people with a lot more money
Author’s Voice of Warning (aka Author’s Note):
English is not my first language; it’s German. This is the best I can do. Any mistakes you find in here, collect them and you might win a prize The spell-checker said everything's okay, but you know how trustworthy those thingies are....
FEEDBACK: Loved
Tony's going into withdrawal (of a different kind) and it's proving to be a very bad day... actually, days...
Tony had had a spectacularly bad morning.
It had started out with his coffee machine dying on him. He had stood in front of the hideously expensive, state-of-the-art machine and cursed it quite colorfully. Still no coffee. With his required morning coffee quota badly lacking, he had opened his emails with the Extremis – which had been a mistake. He had nearly had a yelling fit.
Idiots! Why had he hired Callahan anyway? The man was the chief engineer and supposed to know better, but he had overlooked the quite obvious design flaw for the VTOL engine the Airforce was getting for a healthy sum of money. Tony had written a scathing reply, sent back all designs and slammed them onto the man’s virtual desk. He had added ‘Engineering 101’ out of spite.
Callahan would have a fit in return, probably demand an appointment or even just storm into his office, brandishing his precious designs, and Tony would have to listen to the asshole rant. The man couldn’t accept when he made mistakes. He also couldn’t accept that his boss was a genius in his own rights.
Damn, what had made him hire the man? And keep him this long?
Okay, so he was good, but he was also a bastard.
Tony drummed his fingers onto the glass table top. Callahan was too much like himself. That’s why they clashed.
A cup of coffee appeared in his line of view and he glared at Pepper. “What took you so long?”
“You’re welcome,” the replied dryly.
Tony inhaled the hot, strong liquid, feeling his nerves settle as the bitter taste soothed his addiction.
“You received a call from Dr. Callahan,” she said.
Tony checked his answering machine. Yes, there it was. He had apparently ignored it instinctively.
“Tell him he knows what to do. I already told him.”
Pepper smiled thinly. “He’s ready to argue that point.”
“Let him. He’ll bring down the whole Airforce with his designs.”
Tony sent an email to the man while he spoke, detailing again – actually copying from his first mail – what was wrong with the design. If Callahan didn’t correct it, Tony would and Callahan was off the design team.
Pepper just watched him curiously, then shook her head. “You have a lunch date at noon.”
“Cancel.”
“No.”
Tony frowned at her. Pepper’s face was set into her ‘personal assistant will kick your ass’ expression.
“You already cancelled twice. This is important, Tony.”
He sighed. “All right. Where?”
“The Masa.”
He rolled his eyes. The Masa was a very exclusive restaurant in the Times Warner Center. It was the most expensive one in New York, had only twenty-six seats, and no menu.
Tony got up and walked over to the selection of suits he kept for such uppity pretence dinners. Pepper shook her head at his first choice, got the deep black jacket, crisp white shirt, and charcoal tie with the single golden stripe across, and shooed him to change.
“I’m old enough to dress myself, Potts.”
She raised her eyebrows and looked at the ensemble he ha chosen.
“What?” Tony asked, slightly piqued. “It’s okay!”
“Only if you’re colorblind.”
“I’ve dressed myself for a very long time, unless…” he put a leer into it, “ you want to dress me.”
“Don’t get your hopes up.”
“There’d be more up than just my hopes.”
She smiled patiently. “Your date is in twenty minutes. Get dressed. Happy is waiting.”
With that she turned and left the office.
Tony smiled a little, then did just that.
*
Lunch wasn’t spectacular; it was close to bad.
It was a matter of smiling, charming the lunch date, and trying not to fall face first into his food because of boredom. Keith Kolmar liked to hear himself talk. He also liked to pretend he was the most desirably bachelor on God’s earth and had the tact of an anvil. He had the guts to actually try flirting with Tony. Not that he was Tony’s type. Even if he hadn’t been in a committed relationship with Steve Rogers – and his past dates would call him a liar and unable to commit – Kolmar wasn’t even on his back-up list for a pleasant date, possibly more. Tony wouldn’t have touched the man with a ten foot pole.
He simply didn’t react to the blatantly obvious come-ons, though he laid on the charm a little more just to get the man to sign the papers they had come here to discuss. Kolmar was still rather pleased, even though he couldn’t claim he had laid Tony Stark, and Tony was glad when the whole matter ended in a handshake and the empty promise to meet again sometime. He had people to take care of future business matters from now on and they would have to earn their keep. Tony would make sure he wouldn’t ever meet Keith Kolmar in person again.
“My hero,” Pepper commented dryly as he told her of the lunch date.
“Superhero,” he teased.
“Don’t overdo it. You got him to sign one contract, Tony.”
“You want me to sell myself, too?” he asked sarcastically.
“My opinion never stopped you in the past.”
“Harsh, Potts. Harsh. But my past ended when I got this,” he gestured at the arc reactor underneath his shirt, well-covered no to give him away.
“If you really wanted to, you’d find a way around it,” Pepper only said, face completely straight.
She took the signed papers and walked off.
Tony undid the tie and collapsed into his chair. Yes, maybe. She had a point. Had he wanted to, he would have found a kind of fake human skin cover or something. He might even have claimed it as a trophy. Everyone knew of Afghanistan and how he had been held hostage.
But he hadn’t.
Huh.
Tony glanced at his watch. The day was only half over and he was already beyond the point of total misery.
When Callahan called again, Tony knew he was in hell.
“Don’t take your mood out on me,” Pepper told him when that particular fight was over. She had walked in on him pacing in front of his desk, yelling at his chief engineer via Extremis, and had just waited him out. “Call Steve. Or better yet: fly to DC and stay with him. No one here needs you.”
Tony glared at her. “After the fiasco with Callahan? I am needed, Potts, because those airheads down in R&D seem to think VTOL was designed for shooting planes into the air and then crashing them!”
“Tony… call Steve.”
“He’s busy,” he answered coolly.
“How do you know? Did you call?”
“What are you? My counselor?”
“I’m your personal assistant, Mr. Stark. As that I advise you to call Steve.”
“I won’t, so stop interfering.”
Pepper’s face was a mask of polite anger. Her eyes flashed and Tony was once again reminded that the hair color wasn’t fake. Pepper Potts was a red-head and she was barely keeping control.
She gave him a cool look. “Will that be all, Mr. Stark.”
Okay, frosty bordering on Arctic. He had clearly overstepped his boundaries when it came to Pepper. This meant making up to her in form of something nice. He would never dare not to appease his personal assistant. If Pepper ever quit, he would be hard pressed to find anyone just a fraction as competent, thick-skinned, stubborn and intelligent.
“That would be all Ms. Potts.”
She left and Tony could have sworn she was leaving icicles behind.
Tony flipped through the Manolo Blahniks online, found a pair Pepper’s size who had just come out and were completely ‘in’, and ordered a pair from the West 54th boutique. Delivery in an hour, to Pepper personally.
*
The incredibly bad day dragged on and Tony’s mood went from really bad to abysmally worse.
Pepper had sent him a brief mail, telling him thank you for the shoes, they fit perfectly, but she couldn’t be bought with shoes. He had mailed back that he would never dream of buying her. She should consider them a gift, a sign of his appreciation for her hard work. The mail coming back had been quite… unprintable and had made him laugh.
It had been the highlight of his until then truly miserable day.
He finally fled the office and let Happy drive him home. He holed up in the workshop, put up the ‘Do Not Disturb Or Else’ sign – which almost all Avengers clearly respected after the last incident when someone had disturbed Tony, and went to work on the suit.
Working with the armor was soothing. Working with Jarvis was balm on his strained nerves – even if the AI was at his most sarcastic. Tony tested the new repulsors, went over ideas and designs with Jarvis, went back to the drawing board on a deflector he had been thinking about, and generally lost himself in the familiarity of the armor.
Pepper’s words echoed in his mind.
He didn’t miss Steve.
No way was he missing Steve.
The man had been gone for three days on some meet and greet thing Fury had commandeered him to attend. Captain America was supposed to help SHIELD recruit some manpower, as well as schmooze more money out of the Department of Defense. Fury had whisked Steve away, told the Avengers they had to make do without him for a while, and gone on his grand tour. Right now he was in Washington, where he would be for the next two days, then they’d come home.
No, Tony wasn’t missing him. He wasn’t dependent on Steve Rogers. He wouldn’t call him like some homesick teenager and be happy to hear his voice. He had done fine without him.
Yeah, right, part of his brain sneered. You did fantastic. Just face it. You’re a sap and you want him back.
Tony slept in the workshop because this was where he spent most of his time and fell asleep. He didn’t sleep there because he missed the second person in his bed; Steve. He had had ‘persons’ in his bed before, all kinds of them. Hopeful women, the occasional man, the giggly party girls with the great bodies and the less than stellar IQ, even one or two potential serious partnerships. Nothing had worked out. Steve had worked. Steve was still working after nearly a year. It was frightening and amazing in one.
He found himself dozing on the couch for the same reason. He didn’t avoid the other Avengers, even if Peter claimed he was. He had overheard the younger man saying so over breakfast when he had just gotten himself coffee.
Steve wasn’t his reason for living.
-- Tony had survived until the day he had met Steve Rogers quite well. But it had been survival, not living.
Steve wasn’t his anchor.
-- Steve was the most grounded person Tony had ever met. In the beginning he had caught himself looking at Steve’s feet, wondering if he also grew roots.
Steve was his lover.
-- And it was great and wonderful and he relaxed around him and he could be himself and there was this ease between them and…
Tony stopped his train of thought, scrubbing a hand over his face. It left dark smears.
Steve Rogers had become part of his life so quickly and completely, it should be scary.
It was and it wasn’t. It was because it was like an addiction and Tony knew he wouldn’t be able to kick it. It wasn’t because Steve was so right for him, completed something inside him that had been curled up in a corner like a wounded animal. Steve was balm on his soul. He was… Steve.
Tony groaned and let his head fall onto his arms on the table.
“I’m such a sap!” he groaned.
“I beg your pardon?” Jarvis asked.
Another groan. “I’m not some fourteen year old girl!”
Jarvis was silent for a very long second, showing how perplexed the AI was. “Definitely not, sir. According to my scans you’re neither fourteen, nor a girl.”
Tony grimaced. “Thank you, Jarvis.”
“Glad to be of assistance. May I ask what brought that on, sir?”
“Just feeling pathetic.”
“I see.”
Tony sighed. Not that the AI could actually understand, but Jarvis knew how to make it sound like he did.
“May I ask why, sir?”
He let his head sink down again. He was a fourteen year old girl. He missed Steve.
“You could call him,” Jarvis offered.
Tony realized he had spoken out loud. Great!
“I’m not that desperate!” Stark snapped.
“I didn’t imply that, sir,” was the reserved answer.
“You did!”
“I would never dare to, sir.”
“I’m not that pathetic, okay? I don’t have to call my… my…. I don’t have to call Steve and make small talk and kissy noises!” Tony went on, anger rising. “He’ll be back in two days! I’m not some kind of weepy girl!”
“Of course not, sir.”
Tony slammed his hands down on the table and pushed himself up, anger rising. He wasn’t the woman in this relationship. He wasn’t clingy and needy. He was stronger than that. Needing someone wasn’t a weakness and it didn’t make him soft. It was just…
The others missed Steve, too. He knew it. They just missed him as a team leader and comrade and friend. None of them were sleeping with Steve Rogers – they better not! – and Tony couldn’t go to any of them to talk about his feeling of loneliness. He had never confessed to any weakness before. Not when he had been simply a very rich bastard with an alcohol problem; not when he had had an arc reactor keeping him alive; not when the Extremis had changed him so completely, but had kept the reactor in place. Tony had never talked with anyone before Steve, and Steve now knew him better than even Rhodey or Pepper.
“Fucking hell!” he hissed.
Without thinking he reached out with the Extremis to call his armor, the underarmor already flowing out of his skin. He tore off his work clothes and exhaled in relief when the weight of the armor closed around him. The HUD lit up, the status a perfect 100 %, and without further thoughts he powered up the propulsion system.
“If anyone calls, I’m unavailable,” he growled.
“I’ll let them know, sir,” Jarvis answered calmly.
Iron Man shot out of the mansion’s basement workshop, straight into the sky. He didn’t care where he went, as long as he could go high and fast, working off his frustration.
tbc...
Iron Man (movie) and comic-verse mix
AUTHOR: Macx
RATING: NC-17
PAIRING: Steve/Tony
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters belong to me, sadly. They are owned by people with a lot more money
Author’s Voice of Warning (aka Author’s Note):
English is not my first language; it’s German. This is the best I can do. Any mistakes you find in here, collect them and you might win a prize
FEEDBACK: Loved
Tony's going into withdrawal (of a different kind) and it's proving to be a very bad day... actually, days...
Tony had had a spectacularly bad morning.
It had started out with his coffee machine dying on him. He had stood in front of the hideously expensive, state-of-the-art machine and cursed it quite colorfully. Still no coffee. With his required morning coffee quota badly lacking, he had opened his emails with the Extremis – which had been a mistake. He had nearly had a yelling fit.
Idiots! Why had he hired Callahan anyway? The man was the chief engineer and supposed to know better, but he had overlooked the quite obvious design flaw for the VTOL engine the Airforce was getting for a healthy sum of money. Tony had written a scathing reply, sent back all designs and slammed them onto the man’s virtual desk. He had added ‘Engineering 101’ out of spite.
Callahan would have a fit in return, probably demand an appointment or even just storm into his office, brandishing his precious designs, and Tony would have to listen to the asshole rant. The man couldn’t accept when he made mistakes. He also couldn’t accept that his boss was a genius in his own rights.
Damn, what had made him hire the man? And keep him this long?
Okay, so he was good, but he was also a bastard.
Tony drummed his fingers onto the glass table top. Callahan was too much like himself. That’s why they clashed.
A cup of coffee appeared in his line of view and he glared at Pepper. “What took you so long?”
“You’re welcome,” the replied dryly.
Tony inhaled the hot, strong liquid, feeling his nerves settle as the bitter taste soothed his addiction.
“You received a call from Dr. Callahan,” she said.
Tony checked his answering machine. Yes, there it was. He had apparently ignored it instinctively.
“Tell him he knows what to do. I already told him.”
Pepper smiled thinly. “He’s ready to argue that point.”
“Let him. He’ll bring down the whole Airforce with his designs.”
Tony sent an email to the man while he spoke, detailing again – actually copying from his first mail – what was wrong with the design. If Callahan didn’t correct it, Tony would and Callahan was off the design team.
Pepper just watched him curiously, then shook her head. “You have a lunch date at noon.”
“Cancel.”
“No.”
Tony frowned at her. Pepper’s face was set into her ‘personal assistant will kick your ass’ expression.
“You already cancelled twice. This is important, Tony.”
He sighed. “All right. Where?”
“The Masa.”
He rolled his eyes. The Masa was a very exclusive restaurant in the Times Warner Center. It was the most expensive one in New York, had only twenty-six seats, and no menu.
Tony got up and walked over to the selection of suits he kept for such uppity pretence dinners. Pepper shook her head at his first choice, got the deep black jacket, crisp white shirt, and charcoal tie with the single golden stripe across, and shooed him to change.
“I’m old enough to dress myself, Potts.”
She raised her eyebrows and looked at the ensemble he ha chosen.
“What?” Tony asked, slightly piqued. “It’s okay!”
“Only if you’re colorblind.”
“I’ve dressed myself for a very long time, unless…” he put a leer into it, “ you want to dress me.”
“Don’t get your hopes up.”
“There’d be more up than just my hopes.”
She smiled patiently. “Your date is in twenty minutes. Get dressed. Happy is waiting.”
With that she turned and left the office.
Tony smiled a little, then did just that.
*
Lunch wasn’t spectacular; it was close to bad.
It was a matter of smiling, charming the lunch date, and trying not to fall face first into his food because of boredom. Keith Kolmar liked to hear himself talk. He also liked to pretend he was the most desirably bachelor on God’s earth and had the tact of an anvil. He had the guts to actually try flirting with Tony. Not that he was Tony’s type. Even if he hadn’t been in a committed relationship with Steve Rogers – and his past dates would call him a liar and unable to commit – Kolmar wasn’t even on his back-up list for a pleasant date, possibly more. Tony wouldn’t have touched the man with a ten foot pole.
He simply didn’t react to the blatantly obvious come-ons, though he laid on the charm a little more just to get the man to sign the papers they had come here to discuss. Kolmar was still rather pleased, even though he couldn’t claim he had laid Tony Stark, and Tony was glad when the whole matter ended in a handshake and the empty promise to meet again sometime. He had people to take care of future business matters from now on and they would have to earn their keep. Tony would make sure he wouldn’t ever meet Keith Kolmar in person again.
“My hero,” Pepper commented dryly as he told her of the lunch date.
“Superhero,” he teased.
“Don’t overdo it. You got him to sign one contract, Tony.”
“You want me to sell myself, too?” he asked sarcastically.
“My opinion never stopped you in the past.”
“Harsh, Potts. Harsh. But my past ended when I got this,” he gestured at the arc reactor underneath his shirt, well-covered no to give him away.
“If you really wanted to, you’d find a way around it,” Pepper only said, face completely straight.
She took the signed papers and walked off.
Tony undid the tie and collapsed into his chair. Yes, maybe. She had a point. Had he wanted to, he would have found a kind of fake human skin cover or something. He might even have claimed it as a trophy. Everyone knew of Afghanistan and how he had been held hostage.
But he hadn’t.
Huh.
Tony glanced at his watch. The day was only half over and he was already beyond the point of total misery.
When Callahan called again, Tony knew he was in hell.
“Don’t take your mood out on me,” Pepper told him when that particular fight was over. She had walked in on him pacing in front of his desk, yelling at his chief engineer via Extremis, and had just waited him out. “Call Steve. Or better yet: fly to DC and stay with him. No one here needs you.”
Tony glared at her. “After the fiasco with Callahan? I am needed, Potts, because those airheads down in R&D seem to think VTOL was designed for shooting planes into the air and then crashing them!”
“Tony… call Steve.”
“He’s busy,” he answered coolly.
“How do you know? Did you call?”
“What are you? My counselor?”
“I’m your personal assistant, Mr. Stark. As that I advise you to call Steve.”
“I won’t, so stop interfering.”
Pepper’s face was a mask of polite anger. Her eyes flashed and Tony was once again reminded that the hair color wasn’t fake. Pepper Potts was a red-head and she was barely keeping control.
She gave him a cool look. “Will that be all, Mr. Stark.”
Okay, frosty bordering on Arctic. He had clearly overstepped his boundaries when it came to Pepper. This meant making up to her in form of something nice. He would never dare not to appease his personal assistant. If Pepper ever quit, he would be hard pressed to find anyone just a fraction as competent, thick-skinned, stubborn and intelligent.
“That would be all Ms. Potts.”
She left and Tony could have sworn she was leaving icicles behind.
Tony flipped through the Manolo Blahniks online, found a pair Pepper’s size who had just come out and were completely ‘in’, and ordered a pair from the West 54th boutique. Delivery in an hour, to Pepper personally.
*
The incredibly bad day dragged on and Tony’s mood went from really bad to abysmally worse.
Pepper had sent him a brief mail, telling him thank you for the shoes, they fit perfectly, but she couldn’t be bought with shoes. He had mailed back that he would never dream of buying her. She should consider them a gift, a sign of his appreciation for her hard work. The mail coming back had been quite… unprintable and had made him laugh.
It had been the highlight of his until then truly miserable day.
He finally fled the office and let Happy drive him home. He holed up in the workshop, put up the ‘Do Not Disturb Or Else’ sign – which almost all Avengers clearly respected after the last incident when someone had disturbed Tony, and went to work on the suit.
Working with the armor was soothing. Working with Jarvis was balm on his strained nerves – even if the AI was at his most sarcastic. Tony tested the new repulsors, went over ideas and designs with Jarvis, went back to the drawing board on a deflector he had been thinking about, and generally lost himself in the familiarity of the armor.
Pepper’s words echoed in his mind.
He didn’t miss Steve.
No way was he missing Steve.
The man had been gone for three days on some meet and greet thing Fury had commandeered him to attend. Captain America was supposed to help SHIELD recruit some manpower, as well as schmooze more money out of the Department of Defense. Fury had whisked Steve away, told the Avengers they had to make do without him for a while, and gone on his grand tour. Right now he was in Washington, where he would be for the next two days, then they’d come home.
No, Tony wasn’t missing him. He wasn’t dependent on Steve Rogers. He wouldn’t call him like some homesick teenager and be happy to hear his voice. He had done fine without him.
Yeah, right, part of his brain sneered. You did fantastic. Just face it. You’re a sap and you want him back.
Tony slept in the workshop because this was where he spent most of his time and fell asleep. He didn’t sleep there because he missed the second person in his bed; Steve. He had had ‘persons’ in his bed before, all kinds of them. Hopeful women, the occasional man, the giggly party girls with the great bodies and the less than stellar IQ, even one or two potential serious partnerships. Nothing had worked out. Steve had worked. Steve was still working after nearly a year. It was frightening and amazing in one.
He found himself dozing on the couch for the same reason. He didn’t avoid the other Avengers, even if Peter claimed he was. He had overheard the younger man saying so over breakfast when he had just gotten himself coffee.
Steve wasn’t his reason for living.
-- Tony had survived until the day he had met Steve Rogers quite well. But it had been survival, not living.
Steve wasn’t his anchor.
-- Steve was the most grounded person Tony had ever met. In the beginning he had caught himself looking at Steve’s feet, wondering if he also grew roots.
Steve was his lover.
-- And it was great and wonderful and he relaxed around him and he could be himself and there was this ease between them and…
Tony stopped his train of thought, scrubbing a hand over his face. It left dark smears.
Steve Rogers had become part of his life so quickly and completely, it should be scary.
It was and it wasn’t. It was because it was like an addiction and Tony knew he wouldn’t be able to kick it. It wasn’t because Steve was so right for him, completed something inside him that had been curled up in a corner like a wounded animal. Steve was balm on his soul. He was… Steve.
Tony groaned and let his head fall onto his arms on the table.
“I’m such a sap!” he groaned.
“I beg your pardon?” Jarvis asked.
Another groan. “I’m not some fourteen year old girl!”
Jarvis was silent for a very long second, showing how perplexed the AI was. “Definitely not, sir. According to my scans you’re neither fourteen, nor a girl.”
Tony grimaced. “Thank you, Jarvis.”
“Glad to be of assistance. May I ask what brought that on, sir?”
“Just feeling pathetic.”
“I see.”
Tony sighed. Not that the AI could actually understand, but Jarvis knew how to make it sound like he did.
“May I ask why, sir?”
He let his head sink down again. He was a fourteen year old girl. He missed Steve.
“You could call him,” Jarvis offered.
Tony realized he had spoken out loud. Great!
“I’m not that desperate!” Stark snapped.
“I didn’t imply that, sir,” was the reserved answer.
“You did!”
“I would never dare to, sir.”
“I’m not that pathetic, okay? I don’t have to call my… my…. I don’t have to call Steve and make small talk and kissy noises!” Tony went on, anger rising. “He’ll be back in two days! I’m not some kind of weepy girl!”
“Of course not, sir.”
Tony slammed his hands down on the table and pushed himself up, anger rising. He wasn’t the woman in this relationship. He wasn’t clingy and needy. He was stronger than that. Needing someone wasn’t a weakness and it didn’t make him soft. It was just…
The others missed Steve, too. He knew it. They just missed him as a team leader and comrade and friend. None of them were sleeping with Steve Rogers – they better not! – and Tony couldn’t go to any of them to talk about his feeling of loneliness. He had never confessed to any weakness before. Not when he had been simply a very rich bastard with an alcohol problem; not when he had had an arc reactor keeping him alive; not when the Extremis had changed him so completely, but had kept the reactor in place. Tony had never talked with anyone before Steve, and Steve now knew him better than even Rhodey or Pepper.
“Fucking hell!” he hissed.
Without thinking he reached out with the Extremis to call his armor, the underarmor already flowing out of his skin. He tore off his work clothes and exhaled in relief when the weight of the armor closed around him. The HUD lit up, the status a perfect 100 %, and without further thoughts he powered up the propulsion system.
“If anyone calls, I’m unavailable,” he growled.
“I’ll let them know, sir,” Jarvis answered calmly.
Iron Man shot out of the mansion’s basement workshop, straight into the sky. He didn’t care where he went, as long as he could go high and fast, working off his frustration.
tbc...
no subject
no subject
..I don’t have to call Steve and make small talk and kissy noises!”
My favorite part! I just got a mental image of Tony on the phone saying silly kissy 'I love you's' to Steve. :)
no subject
And now I'm quite worried about how many songs with the word "addicted" I can think of off the top of my head.
I can't wait for the second half, I love this. Perfect thing to read when I'm up far too early for my normal schedule.
no subject
Good story, some corrections
a genius in his own right. No plural.
“You’re welcome,” the replied dryly
"the" should be "she".
line of view
Line of sight, or within his eye sight.
uppity pretence dinners
Be careful with the word 'uppity' - in American slang, it's a racial slur, especially if you use it in the same breath as a black person. As in, "Barack Obama is uppity."
Prentence should be "pretentious".
None of them were sleeping with Steve Rogers – they better not! should be: they'd / they had better not.
re: Withdrawal Symptoms 1/2
This line; completed something inside him that had been curled up in a corner like a wounded animal....awwwwww...