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cap_ironman2009-07-22 02:39 pm
isilrandir.livejournal.com) wrote in cap_ironman2009-07-22 02:39 pm
Entry tags:
Short fic from the kink meme
Title: Among Other Things
Fandom: Avengers
Pairing/Characters: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Rating: PG, tops. There's some smooching, that's all.
Summary: Steve and Tony get together after missions to talk, and this discussion goes a bit differently.
Notes: Written for the Marvel kink meme. Request was "first kiss, between missions". And I should add that this is Ultimates universe, just so no one gets confused. ;)
They get together after the fact to talk, a sort of comparison of notes that somehow allows them to relive what they’ve been through and place it firmly in the realm of Done And Over With. It was Tony’s idea, and initially the entire team was included, but as the weeks ticked by it quickly became clear that Steve was the only one who needed the little get-togethers as much as Tony did, and Tony had absolutely no qualms about turning it into a private affair.
They sat in the kitchen of Steve’s apartment, martini in Tony’s hand, cup of coffee in Steve’s, silence building between them. Tony found himself studying the linoleum; it was scratched and scuffed and peeling up in the corners, but Steve kept it scrubbed clean. The rest of the apartment was like that as well, old and threadbare but lovingly cleaned and arranged; there was a hominess to it that Tony wasn’t accustomed to and he always felt a little bit out of place in Steve’s world. There stood Steve, clad in jeans and a plain white t-shirt, hair still damp from the shower, barefoot in the kitchen for god’s sake, while he, Tony Stark, sat on the counter in a suit that cost more than Steve’s entire apartment was worth, perfectly groomed and casually wielding a martini glass. It was wrong, and yet Steve always managed to make it feel right.
“You look like you’re thinking hard,” Steve murmured, glancing across the room at Tony. He had the coffee cup cradled in his huge hands, and the steam wafted up, curling around his face as he took a sip. He was heart-breakingly gorgeous and so Tony resorted to his usual standby when confronted with something that he had no idea how to handle.
“You should let me get you a better place,” he declared. “This one is too small.”
“It’s fine,” Steve answered. Some of the warmth melted out of his face. Tony barely stopped himself from squirming. “I like it.”
“You should at least have a house.” He leaned forward, setting the martini down beside him. Steve looked away. “Come on, Steve, really. Someone already broke in once—“
“And now everyone in the neighborhood knows not to do that,” Steve said firmly. His blue eyes were hard and Tony recoiled slightly. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m perfectly happy here.”
He picked up the coffee cup and dumped the dregs into the sink, busying himself so that he wouldn’t have to continue the argument. Tony drummed his heels helplessly against the cabinets and wished he had the whole bottle of gin up here instead of just the last swallow of a martini that suddenly tasted sour. Still, he finished it and popped the olive into his mouth as he watched Steve, wracking his brain for some way to salvage the conversation. They had already discussed the mission to death, compared injuries, talked about the next time. What was there to say?
“I wasn’t trying to insult you.” The words tumbled out, as close to an apology as he would get, and Steve glanced up, surprised.
“I know,” he said. “I’m not insulted.”
“Then what? You got real quiet all of a sudden for not being upset.”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t upset.” Steve grabbed a towel and began to wipe down the counters, which were already thoroughly clean. It was obvious avoidance and while Tony was in the habit of staring people straight in the face when he was angry with them, he wasn’t going to challenge Steve’s desire to do the exact opposite. There was a long moment when the only sound was the towel swishing across Formica countertops. Finally, Steve spoke. “Why do you always try to buy people off?”
What?” Tony was actually and honestly floored by the accusation. “I wasn’t trying to buy you off! I was just offering…”
“To buy me a house?” Steve turned to face him and his perfect features were arranged in disapproving coldness. “You do that. All the time.”
“Because you’re my friend,” Tony protested. “Why shouldn’t I?”
“I’m a grown man. I’m Captain America, for god’s sake. Do you know how much they pay me? Do you think I couldn’t afford a nicer place than this if I wanted to?” Steve shrugged and tossed the towel into the sink. “I like it here.”
“All right.” Tony was vaguely ashamed of himself, as though he had contributed to the misunderstanding simply by existing. But really, how could he have known? How many people would get upset if you offered to buy them a place to live? “How about we just drop it?”
“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Steve answered. The hint of a smile crept back into his eyes. “Do you want to stay for dinner?”
“As long as I don’t have to cook.”
“Nope.” Openly grinning now, Steve crossed the kitchen to pull mixing bowls out of the cabinets. “I can actually cook a few things, believe it or not.” He leaned past Tony, bracing a hand on the countertop as he reached for a knife. He smelled like Irish Spring and aftershave and Tony, impulsively idiotic as usual, leaned in and planted a soft kiss on the side of his neck.
Steve recoiled swiftly, knife in hand and a puzzled look on his face, and Tony almost laughed. “Put the knife down, Steve,” he murmured. “You look like you’re about to cut me.”
“Did you just kiss me?” Steve asked, setting the knife on the counter without taking his eyes away from Tony’s face. It was sweet and ludicrous and stomach-churning all at once, and Tony shrugged, attempting to appear casual.
“Yes. I probably shouldn’t have, but—“
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I wanted to.” He reached out and captured Steve by the shirt, drawing him in with a teasing smile on his face. Better to give the impression that it was all just a game, that he hadn’t fantasized a number of times about doing just this. Steve allowed himself to be dragged forward until his hips bumped the counter. His hands rose hesitantly, then settled on either side of Tony’s hips, and it was close enough. “You have no idea how gorgeous you are, do you?”
He didn’t give Steve time to reply; it would have just snowballed into another conversation in which he came out looking like the bad guy. His fingers tangled in Steve’s hair and their lips met and it was deliciously clumsy, noses bumping cheekbones as each of them tried to find an angle. Tony started to laugh and Steve joined in, and then those huge hands were cupping his face, holding him still as Steve’s tongue swept into his mouth. Tony made a soft sound in his throat, wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck. Their lips broke apart, slid back together; Steve sucked at Tony’s tongue and Tony bit Steve’s lower lip, and by the time they broke apart, both of them were flushed and breathing heavily.
Steve stepped away quickly and Tony let him go. The awkward tension in the room was unbearable. “I’ll go,” Tony offered, slipping off the counter. His feet landed with a muffled thump on the battered linoleum.
“You don’t have to,” Steve said. “I’ll still make dinner.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” They shared a brief glance, in which there was no recrimination or disgust, just confusion. Tony nodded and forced a smile and it looked perfectly natural. Steve returned it as much as he was able. It would be a strange dinner, but it beat eating by himself.
“Sure, I’ll stay then.” The relief in Steve’s eyes was immediate and this time, Tony’s smile was genuine. “I’ll just go dig through your records for some dinner music.”
“Make it something happy,” Steve said. “I feel good tonight.”
x-posted everywhere
Fandom: Avengers
Pairing/Characters: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Rating: PG, tops. There's some smooching, that's all.
Summary: Steve and Tony get together after missions to talk, and this discussion goes a bit differently.
Notes: Written for the Marvel kink meme. Request was "first kiss, between missions". And I should add that this is Ultimates universe, just so no one gets confused. ;)
They get together after the fact to talk, a sort of comparison of notes that somehow allows them to relive what they’ve been through and place it firmly in the realm of Done And Over With. It was Tony’s idea, and initially the entire team was included, but as the weeks ticked by it quickly became clear that Steve was the only one who needed the little get-togethers as much as Tony did, and Tony had absolutely no qualms about turning it into a private affair.
They sat in the kitchen of Steve’s apartment, martini in Tony’s hand, cup of coffee in Steve’s, silence building between them. Tony found himself studying the linoleum; it was scratched and scuffed and peeling up in the corners, but Steve kept it scrubbed clean. The rest of the apartment was like that as well, old and threadbare but lovingly cleaned and arranged; there was a hominess to it that Tony wasn’t accustomed to and he always felt a little bit out of place in Steve’s world. There stood Steve, clad in jeans and a plain white t-shirt, hair still damp from the shower, barefoot in the kitchen for god’s sake, while he, Tony Stark, sat on the counter in a suit that cost more than Steve’s entire apartment was worth, perfectly groomed and casually wielding a martini glass. It was wrong, and yet Steve always managed to make it feel right.
“You look like you’re thinking hard,” Steve murmured, glancing across the room at Tony. He had the coffee cup cradled in his huge hands, and the steam wafted up, curling around his face as he took a sip. He was heart-breakingly gorgeous and so Tony resorted to his usual standby when confronted with something that he had no idea how to handle.
“You should let me get you a better place,” he declared. “This one is too small.”
“It’s fine,” Steve answered. Some of the warmth melted out of his face. Tony barely stopped himself from squirming. “I like it.”
“You should at least have a house.” He leaned forward, setting the martini down beside him. Steve looked away. “Come on, Steve, really. Someone already broke in once—“
“And now everyone in the neighborhood knows not to do that,” Steve said firmly. His blue eyes were hard and Tony recoiled slightly. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m perfectly happy here.”
He picked up the coffee cup and dumped the dregs into the sink, busying himself so that he wouldn’t have to continue the argument. Tony drummed his heels helplessly against the cabinets and wished he had the whole bottle of gin up here instead of just the last swallow of a martini that suddenly tasted sour. Still, he finished it and popped the olive into his mouth as he watched Steve, wracking his brain for some way to salvage the conversation. They had already discussed the mission to death, compared injuries, talked about the next time. What was there to say?
“I wasn’t trying to insult you.” The words tumbled out, as close to an apology as he would get, and Steve glanced up, surprised.
“I know,” he said. “I’m not insulted.”
“Then what? You got real quiet all of a sudden for not being upset.”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t upset.” Steve grabbed a towel and began to wipe down the counters, which were already thoroughly clean. It was obvious avoidance and while Tony was in the habit of staring people straight in the face when he was angry with them, he wasn’t going to challenge Steve’s desire to do the exact opposite. There was a long moment when the only sound was the towel swishing across Formica countertops. Finally, Steve spoke. “Why do you always try to buy people off?”
What?” Tony was actually and honestly floored by the accusation. “I wasn’t trying to buy you off! I was just offering…”
“To buy me a house?” Steve turned to face him and his perfect features were arranged in disapproving coldness. “You do that. All the time.”
“Because you’re my friend,” Tony protested. “Why shouldn’t I?”
“I’m a grown man. I’m Captain America, for god’s sake. Do you know how much they pay me? Do you think I couldn’t afford a nicer place than this if I wanted to?” Steve shrugged and tossed the towel into the sink. “I like it here.”
“All right.” Tony was vaguely ashamed of himself, as though he had contributed to the misunderstanding simply by existing. But really, how could he have known? How many people would get upset if you offered to buy them a place to live? “How about we just drop it?”
“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Steve answered. The hint of a smile crept back into his eyes. “Do you want to stay for dinner?”
“As long as I don’t have to cook.”
“Nope.” Openly grinning now, Steve crossed the kitchen to pull mixing bowls out of the cabinets. “I can actually cook a few things, believe it or not.” He leaned past Tony, bracing a hand on the countertop as he reached for a knife. He smelled like Irish Spring and aftershave and Tony, impulsively idiotic as usual, leaned in and planted a soft kiss on the side of his neck.
Steve recoiled swiftly, knife in hand and a puzzled look on his face, and Tony almost laughed. “Put the knife down, Steve,” he murmured. “You look like you’re about to cut me.”
“Did you just kiss me?” Steve asked, setting the knife on the counter without taking his eyes away from Tony’s face. It was sweet and ludicrous and stomach-churning all at once, and Tony shrugged, attempting to appear casual.
“Yes. I probably shouldn’t have, but—“
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I wanted to.” He reached out and captured Steve by the shirt, drawing him in with a teasing smile on his face. Better to give the impression that it was all just a game, that he hadn’t fantasized a number of times about doing just this. Steve allowed himself to be dragged forward until his hips bumped the counter. His hands rose hesitantly, then settled on either side of Tony’s hips, and it was close enough. “You have no idea how gorgeous you are, do you?”
He didn’t give Steve time to reply; it would have just snowballed into another conversation in which he came out looking like the bad guy. His fingers tangled in Steve’s hair and their lips met and it was deliciously clumsy, noses bumping cheekbones as each of them tried to find an angle. Tony started to laugh and Steve joined in, and then those huge hands were cupping his face, holding him still as Steve’s tongue swept into his mouth. Tony made a soft sound in his throat, wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck. Their lips broke apart, slid back together; Steve sucked at Tony’s tongue and Tony bit Steve’s lower lip, and by the time they broke apart, both of them were flushed and breathing heavily.
Steve stepped away quickly and Tony let him go. The awkward tension in the room was unbearable. “I’ll go,” Tony offered, slipping off the counter. His feet landed with a muffled thump on the battered linoleum.
“You don’t have to,” Steve said. “I’ll still make dinner.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” They shared a brief glance, in which there was no recrimination or disgust, just confusion. Tony nodded and forced a smile and it looked perfectly natural. Steve returned it as much as he was able. It would be a strange dinner, but it beat eating by himself.
“Sure, I’ll stay then.” The relief in Steve’s eyes was immediate and this time, Tony’s smile was genuine. “I’ll just go dig through your records for some dinner music.”
“Make it something happy,” Steve said. “I feel good tonight.”
x-posted everywhere
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I'm glad you liked it!
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Ahhh it's Ultimates fic! *\o/* That was my prompt
This fic, let me tell you why I like it! The shabby apartment, the fact that Steve smells like Irish Spring (how did you KNOW? This is MY PERSONAL CANON). The fact that Tony is the sort of guy to buy stuff for his friends and not think about it as anything more than showing affection. But Steve is from a hardscrabble background where there's no such thing as a free lunch. Hurrr hurrr hurr.
But it's Ultimates fic, and it was FOR ME! *flails again*
Only concrit: you might want to tag it as 1610 or Ultimates Universe though. Because Ults Tony and Steve are different from their 616 counterparts and you don't want people to go o.0
But thank you!
Re: Ahhh it's Ultimates fic! *\o/* That was my prompt
Also OMG IRISH SPRING. I was sitting around like "What kind of soap would Cap smell like? Duh, Irish Spring..." and I love that I'm not the only one who thinks that. :D
You're welcome! And yeah, I added a note that it was Ultimates. I should have done that in the first place, but I have frequent moron moments and forget things. >_
LOL, you might want to bold the Ultimates part, still
Also OMG IRISH SPRING. I was sitting around like "What kind of soap would Cap smell like? Duh, Irish Spring..." and I love that I'm not the only one who thinks that. :D
Yeah, definitely. It's strong and old fashioned, and very 'deodorant- like'. I know that in the 30s (due to readings LOL) that's when they started to push the whole squeaky clean and personal hygiene thing in the media.
There's something so appealing about writing something innocent and awkward for these two.
This. So much this! *\o/*
Cheers for doing this, really.
Done! ;)
See, I was trying to think of a soap that smells like soap, not fragrance or anything fancy like that, and it was between Ivory and Irish Spring and Ivory is clearly a little bit girly for Steve, so. Irish Spring wins. I love that we're still talking about Steve's soap.
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Yay, Ultimates fic! \o/
Second, I love Steve's little apartment, just the ambiance of it, and how all the little details made the whole fic feel cozy. And I know somebody who is thrilled with the fact that Steve smells like Irish Spring. *eyes
And Tony's 'oops, my lips seem to have fallen onto your neck' is classic. :D
Thanks so much for doing this!
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Yes! Steve's crappy apartment! I'm kind of in love with it; it tries to pop up in all of my Steve/Tony stories. And HAH! to Irish Spring! I am also thrilled that I'm not the only one that equates that smell with Captain America. If I was Tony, I would have "accidentally" kissed his neck, too.
I'm glad you liked it!
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Thanks so much for sharing!
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I kind of have a weird kink for first kisses, especially when they're awkward and sweet, so when I saw the prompt I kind of had to go for it. I'm glad you liked it!
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late feedback...
Dessert before dinner