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cap_ironman2009-12-24 11:52 am
cap_ironman_fe) wrote in cap_ironman2009-12-24 11:52 am
Happy holidays, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
neptunedream!
Title: Something’s Gotta Give
Author:arileo
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Strong language and some innuendo
Pairing: Steve/Tony
Universe: Ultimate
Word Count: 1349
A/N: For the Cap_Ironman 2009 fic exchange, .
Summary: Steve and Tony attempt to go on a date. Coming to terms with their affection but still sharing some adorable conflict
Steve wasn’t sure exactly when it happened, or how, or even why, but somehow, at some point in time, he had fallen in love with Tony fucking Stark.
Tony Stark, one of the smartest, richest men on the planet. One of the first men he’d met when he woke up. One of the worst flirts and drunkards he’d ever known. The man who drove him up a goddamned wall with his constant drinking and innuendo.
And now, to make matters worse, the bastard knew it. Whether Stark felt the same, or simply enjoyed making Steve squirm whenever he got the chance had yet to be seen. He knew Stark ‘played for both teams’, as they put it nowadays, but Steve had no interest in being just another one of Stark’s conquests.
So far, there’d only been some mild flirting (at least mild by Tony’s standards). But sooner or later, something had to change.
How the hell had he gotten into this mess?
“So, what does Captain America intend to do on his night off?” Stark asked, leering at him. Normal enough for him, but something about it set of warning bells in Steve’s head nonetheless.
“I was planning on doing some reading.” he replied, “I’ve missed out on quite a few bestsellers, in case you’ve forgotten.”
Stark chuckled, sipping from his ever-present glass. “Ah. Well, if you wouldn’t mind putting off your reading for another night, I’d like to invite you to dinner. My place? Say around eightish?”
“That’s in two hours. Usually you give us a bit more notice before one of your team dinner things. Is something up?”
“Who said it was a team thing?” Stark smirked, “I planned on it being just you and me. There are a few things we need to discuss, and while I wouldn’t really mind having an audience, somehow I don’t think you’d appreciate it.”
“Tony, I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh come now Steven, you know exactly what I’m talking about.” The bastard actually batted his eyelashes. No man should be able look so damned good batting his eyelashes like that at another man. “I’m talking about you and me and where we intend to go from here. I mean seriously, the sexual tension is so thick you could cut it with a popsicle stick.”
“For God’s sake Stark, not so loud!” Steve cast a wary glance at the rest of the Ultimates on the other side of the room, “Do you want everyone to hear you?”
“Oh please, do you really think that they haven’t figured it out by now? Subtlety is not one of your strong points, my dear Captain. Or mine for that matter. Our dearest teammates probably think we’ve been screwing like minks. Why do you think darling Janet’s been giving me the evil eye for the last week?” Stark’s goddamned chesire cat grin got even bigger.
“Stark,” Steve hissed.
“Dinner. My place. Eightish.” The bastard gave him a drunken grin as he turned and walked away, “And wear something casual.”
How the hell had he gotten into this mess?
This was a mistake. This was a very big mistake. Quite possibly the biggest mistake he’d ever made in his entire life. (Including that incident with Bucky, Privates Watkins and Levine, six cases of vodka, and that Kraut General’s car).
Steve stood in front of the door to Tony’s penthouse, wearing a button down shirt and jeans, seriously regretting the series of event that had led up to this. But it was too late to turn back now, and Captain America did not run.
It was only dinner, there was nothing to be nervous about.
The door swung open, and there was Stark, arms flung open wide, and an equally wide smile on his face.
“Steve!” Stark said, “Right on time! Come in, come in!”
“Answering your own door? That’s a new one.”
“I gave the staff the night off,” Stark replied as they walked in to the dining room. “As I said before, I didn’t think you’d appreciate an audience.”
Steve had to agree.
“The cooks just left, dinner is on the table. It would be a sin to let it get cold.”
The dining room was set for a romantic mood, complete with candles and soft music.
Steve felt the lump in his stomach, the one that he’d been trying to ignore for the last two hours, get even bigger.
“Don’t just stand there, sit down, have something to drink.” Stark filled his own glass as he spoke. If he didn’t know better, Steve would have sworn Stark was as nervous he was. But Tony Stark didn’t get nervous, right?
Dinner was awkward. Steve couldn’t think of anything to say, not that it mattered. Stark spoke more than enough for both of them, talking all about his latest inventions in between glasses of wine. After watching the other man finish off his seventh glass, Steve had enough.
“Alright Stark, I give up. What do you want from me?”
“My dear Steven, I think we both know the answer to that. The real question is, what do you want from me?,” the damned lush replied with a smirk.
“I’m not some dame for you to buy, Stark,” Steve growled.
“One doesn’t buy women, Steve,” Stark shook his head, “He attempts to be as worthy of their attention as possible. And besides, who ever said anything about buying you? We’ve been dancing around each other for weeks, and driving our co-workers up a wall in the meantime.” The other man looked him in the eye, more serious than Steve had ever seen him. “I’ve only been involved in one serious relationship in my entire life, and you know how well that went. I simply want to know where we stand.”
Steve felt his anger deflate. “You have a point. We do need to… figure things out. But it’s a little hard for to people to work out a relationship when one of them is…judgment impaired. How am I supposed to know if you really want… any of this, when you‘re always completely wasted.”
“Judgment im…” Stark laughed , leaning back in his seat. “Ah, now there’s a phrase I haven’t heard in a long time. Steve, I am one of the smartest men on this planet. It would take a great deal more than just alcohol to ‘impair’ my ability to think. I always know what I’m doing. Besides, you wouldn’t like me when I’m sober. I‘m told I can be a real bastard.”
“And how is that different from usual?” Steve smirked.
Stark laughed and downed his eighth (or was it ninth? Steve had lost count) glass of wine.
“Well, I’m afraid that you’re just going to have to put up with me being completely wasted. I do hope you won’t let it turn you off.”
Steve thought about it. Did it really matter if Stark was drunk or not? As he’d said, he knew what he was doing, regardless of how many martinis he’d had. Yes, the man could be a complete prick, but in the end, he was still a good man. He couldn’t, Steve realized, imagine a Tony Stark who wasn’t a grinning lush, who didn’t flirt inappropriately with anything that breathed.
“Well?” Stark-Tony asked, if they were going to be a couple, he needed to call the man by his first name. “I’m waiting.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?” Tony raised one eyebrow.
“I want you. Booze and all. But first I need you to tell me what you expect out of this. I have no intention of being a…a casual fuck.”
Tony laughed again. “Steve, you are my every childhood fantasy come true. Why would I ever want to give you up?”
Steve blinked in surprise. He hadn’t expected that. “So… does this mean that we’re dating?”
“I do believe that it does.” Tony raised his glass, “A toast?”
Steve raised his own glass, “To us.”
“To us.”
“Tony?”
“Yes Steve?”
“There’s just one thing…”
“Yes Steve?”
“No more footsie during briefings.”
“Spoilsport.”
“I mean it!”
Author:
arileoRating: PG-13
Warnings: Strong language and some innuendo
Pairing: Steve/Tony
Universe: Ultimate
Word Count: 1349
A/N: For the Cap_Ironman 2009 fic exchange, .
Summary: Steve and Tony attempt to go on a date. Coming to terms with their affection but still sharing some adorable conflict
Steve wasn’t sure exactly when it happened, or how, or even why, but somehow, at some point in time, he had fallen in love with Tony fucking Stark.
Tony Stark, one of the smartest, richest men on the planet. One of the first men he’d met when he woke up. One of the worst flirts and drunkards he’d ever known. The man who drove him up a goddamned wall with his constant drinking and innuendo.
And now, to make matters worse, the bastard knew it. Whether Stark felt the same, or simply enjoyed making Steve squirm whenever he got the chance had yet to be seen. He knew Stark ‘played for both teams’, as they put it nowadays, but Steve had no interest in being just another one of Stark’s conquests.
So far, there’d only been some mild flirting (at least mild by Tony’s standards). But sooner or later, something had to change.
How the hell had he gotten into this mess?
“So, what does Captain America intend to do on his night off?” Stark asked, leering at him. Normal enough for him, but something about it set of warning bells in Steve’s head nonetheless.
“I was planning on doing some reading.” he replied, “I’ve missed out on quite a few bestsellers, in case you’ve forgotten.”
Stark chuckled, sipping from his ever-present glass. “Ah. Well, if you wouldn’t mind putting off your reading for another night, I’d like to invite you to dinner. My place? Say around eightish?”
“That’s in two hours. Usually you give us a bit more notice before one of your team dinner things. Is something up?”
“Who said it was a team thing?” Stark smirked, “I planned on it being just you and me. There are a few things we need to discuss, and while I wouldn’t really mind having an audience, somehow I don’t think you’d appreciate it.”
“Tony, I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh come now Steven, you know exactly what I’m talking about.” The bastard actually batted his eyelashes. No man should be able look so damned good batting his eyelashes like that at another man. “I’m talking about you and me and where we intend to go from here. I mean seriously, the sexual tension is so thick you could cut it with a popsicle stick.”
“For God’s sake Stark, not so loud!” Steve cast a wary glance at the rest of the Ultimates on the other side of the room, “Do you want everyone to hear you?”
“Oh please, do you really think that they haven’t figured it out by now? Subtlety is not one of your strong points, my dear Captain. Or mine for that matter. Our dearest teammates probably think we’ve been screwing like minks. Why do you think darling Janet’s been giving me the evil eye for the last week?” Stark’s goddamned chesire cat grin got even bigger.
“Stark,” Steve hissed.
“Dinner. My place. Eightish.” The bastard gave him a drunken grin as he turned and walked away, “And wear something casual.”
How the hell had he gotten into this mess?
This was a mistake. This was a very big mistake. Quite possibly the biggest mistake he’d ever made in his entire life. (Including that incident with Bucky, Privates Watkins and Levine, six cases of vodka, and that Kraut General’s car).
Steve stood in front of the door to Tony’s penthouse, wearing a button down shirt and jeans, seriously regretting the series of event that had led up to this. But it was too late to turn back now, and Captain America did not run.
It was only dinner, there was nothing to be nervous about.
The door swung open, and there was Stark, arms flung open wide, and an equally wide smile on his face.
“Steve!” Stark said, “Right on time! Come in, come in!”
“Answering your own door? That’s a new one.”
“I gave the staff the night off,” Stark replied as they walked in to the dining room. “As I said before, I didn’t think you’d appreciate an audience.”
Steve had to agree.
“The cooks just left, dinner is on the table. It would be a sin to let it get cold.”
The dining room was set for a romantic mood, complete with candles and soft music.
Steve felt the lump in his stomach, the one that he’d been trying to ignore for the last two hours, get even bigger.
“Don’t just stand there, sit down, have something to drink.” Stark filled his own glass as he spoke. If he didn’t know better, Steve would have sworn Stark was as nervous he was. But Tony Stark didn’t get nervous, right?
Dinner was awkward. Steve couldn’t think of anything to say, not that it mattered. Stark spoke more than enough for both of them, talking all about his latest inventions in between glasses of wine. After watching the other man finish off his seventh glass, Steve had enough.
“Alright Stark, I give up. What do you want from me?”
“My dear Steven, I think we both know the answer to that. The real question is, what do you want from me?,” the damned lush replied with a smirk.
“I’m not some dame for you to buy, Stark,” Steve growled.
“One doesn’t buy women, Steve,” Stark shook his head, “He attempts to be as worthy of their attention as possible. And besides, who ever said anything about buying you? We’ve been dancing around each other for weeks, and driving our co-workers up a wall in the meantime.” The other man looked him in the eye, more serious than Steve had ever seen him. “I’ve only been involved in one serious relationship in my entire life, and you know how well that went. I simply want to know where we stand.”
Steve felt his anger deflate. “You have a point. We do need to… figure things out. But it’s a little hard for to people to work out a relationship when one of them is…judgment impaired. How am I supposed to know if you really want… any of this, when you‘re always completely wasted.”
“Judgment im…” Stark laughed , leaning back in his seat. “Ah, now there’s a phrase I haven’t heard in a long time. Steve, I am one of the smartest men on this planet. It would take a great deal more than just alcohol to ‘impair’ my ability to think. I always know what I’m doing. Besides, you wouldn’t like me when I’m sober. I‘m told I can be a real bastard.”
“And how is that different from usual?” Steve smirked.
Stark laughed and downed his eighth (or was it ninth? Steve had lost count) glass of wine.
“Well, I’m afraid that you’re just going to have to put up with me being completely wasted. I do hope you won’t let it turn you off.”
Steve thought about it. Did it really matter if Stark was drunk or not? As he’d said, he knew what he was doing, regardless of how many martinis he’d had. Yes, the man could be a complete prick, but in the end, he was still a good man. He couldn’t, Steve realized, imagine a Tony Stark who wasn’t a grinning lush, who didn’t flirt inappropriately with anything that breathed.
“Well?” Stark-Tony asked, if they were going to be a couple, he needed to call the man by his first name. “I’m waiting.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?” Tony raised one eyebrow.
“I want you. Booze and all. But first I need you to tell me what you expect out of this. I have no intention of being a…a casual fuck.”
Tony laughed again. “Steve, you are my every childhood fantasy come true. Why would I ever want to give you up?”
Steve blinked in surprise. He hadn’t expected that. “So… does this mean that we’re dating?”
“I do believe that it does.” Tony raised his glass, “A toast?”
Steve raised his own glass, “To us.”
“To us.”
“Tony?”
“Yes Steve?”
“There’s just one thing…”
“Yes Steve?”
“No more footsie during briefings.”
“Spoilsport.”
“I mean it!”
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Awesome work my friend! ^-^
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but I loved it (the end is pretty LOL)
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