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cap_ironman2010-12-27 11:28 pm
cap_ironman_fe) wrote in cap_ironman2010-12-27 11:28 pm
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Happy Holidays, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
penumbren part two!
Title: A Window in the Sky
Author:manic_intent
Summary: Steve hits on a total stranger in Port-Lyautey, much to Bucky's astonishment.
Pairings/Characters: Tony/Steve
Word Count: 10,396
A/N: For the fic exchange, prompt: Steve wants Tony. Tony's reluctant (age [Steve's in his early 20s, Tony's getting close to 40], experience, whatever). Bucky's alternately horrified and amused.
Universe: Iron Man Noir
Rating: NC17
Warnings: Spoilers for Iron Man Noir, I suppose.
Beta:mozzarellaroses :D
Part One Part Two
III
The temple town of Dakshineswar was dusty and scorching hot, and the color of their skin drew excited children of various ages, giggling and pointing as they circled Bucky and Steve in a pack, pointing at their gear and poking at Steve’s shield, until even Steve was laughing and trying to talk to them in sign language, taking off his helmet for a boy to hold and inspect, then a glove for a pair of little twin girls. The other sahibs, apparently, were already here, and it seemed that the children had been assigned to the railway station just to herd them over when they arrived.
It was Bucky’s first time in India, and he wasn’t entirely sure if he was enjoying it. He and Steve hadn’t been involved in the South-east Asian fronts, and although the people had seemed friendly enough when they’d landed in Kolkata and proceeded to make their way to Dakshineswar, Fury had warned them to keep to themselves and not to get into any trouble. It seemed that there was a growing movement in India that was seeking independence from the British, and that the Axis powers were likely fuelling a revolution in the hopes of destabilizing the region. Certainly they had drawn quite a few askance stares in Kolkata, particularly Steve in his famous uniform.
Insects butted at his sweat-sticky skin and lodged themselves in his hair despite Bucky’s half-hearted efforts to bat them away, and the food tended towards ‘spicy’ or ‘very spicy’. Apparently even the water wasn’t safe to drink; SHIELD had loaded them up with bottled water from the military supplies, and had warned them off buying things off the streets. Steve hadn’t listened, once they were out of earshot of the airbase and submerged in a bazaar thick with the scents of curry, spices and ghee, but then, Steve was the one with the enhanced body.
Dakshineswar, thankfully, seemed quieter than Kolkata and its madness of thronging crowds, for all that it was so close to the capital. The uneasy sense of suspicion that pervaded Kolkata seemed to fade in the temple town, and Bucky found himself winking at trio of little girls who had used thumb and forefinger to encircle their eyes to mimic his mask; they fell to delighted laughter, clapping their hands, draped in brilliant, bright sashes.
Tony Stark was smoking, sprawled on a bench at an outdoor coffeehouse, his back pressed against the table, a white shirt rolled up to his elbows, khaki slacks tucked into knee-high boots, looking amused and occasionally fanning himself with a panama hat. Rhodey was pulling faces at a group of children, who gasped and giggled and occasionally reached out with splayed fingers to compare their own coffee-colored skin against Rhodey’s darker hue. The adults were more reserved, whispering and pointing at a respectful distance, or peering out at the noise from the windows of their narrow houses, curious but unafraid; it seemed as though Tony, at least, was a familiar face hereabouts.
“Where are Pepper and Jarvis?” Steve asked once they were close.
“Up on the Hooghly in a fishing boat, observing the temple. Where’s Fury?” Tony arched an eyebrow, squinting at them and shading his eyes briefly with his hat. “You weren’t the backup that I was expecting.”
“Disappointed?” Steve asked, a faint smile playing on his lips that made Rhodey snort and Bucky feel puzzled. There seemed to be a silent conversation taking place under the one he could hear, and he wasn’t quite sure whether to demand to be let into it. Steve had been pulled into the Greenland Gambit (so called by the Marvels issue), but the comic had focused more on the capture and SHIELD’s subsequent rescue. Bucky had been dead jealous that he’d been consigned to London at that point in time.
“I might be,” Tony said, though his eyes were half-lidded and appreciative as he subjected Steve to another long once-over, taking another long, acrid drag of his cigarette, then dropping it onto the ground and grinding his heel upon the ember. “Let’s get moving then.”
“Sure.” Rhodey counted out coins and sweets to delighted kids from his pockets, and the kids solemnly returned Steve’s gear even as Tony began to walk down the street in the direction of the river, thumbs tucked in the pockets of his slacks.
“Sources tell me that one of the Moor rings is held in one of the sanctums of the Kali temples,” Tony said, once Steve and Bucky caught up with him. “It took a few months of paying people to snoop about to narrow it down.”
“To Dakshineswar?” Steve asked. “What tipped you off?”
“Well,” Tony admitted, “I got word that Himmler is targeting it, probably within this week. So I’m not entirely sure whether it’s there, but if Himmler or the Thule are going to take a shot at it, I’ll want to be there to at least make sure that none of the natives get caught in the crossfire.” He caught Bucky’s blink of surprise, and smiled crookedly. “I’m rather fond of India. Particularly up north, they’re an interesting people. And I like the food. ‘Course, you have to be careful where you buy it from, and you need a little resistance to the heat, but it’s good.”
“I don’t think you published that many adventures involving India,” Steve said thoughtfully. “If at all. You had a few pages on Darjeeling during that issue where you were headed to Kathmandu.”
“We only publish the ones where we find something,” Tony pointed out. “But the things you could see, especially when you’re headed up towards Nepal, or through the Silk Road, it humbles you.”
“Didn’t work on you, boss,” Rhodey commented mildly, behind them.
“We might check Angkor next if this is a dead end,” Tony ignored Rhodey. “I hear Fury’s getting close on that one.”
“Maybe after the war,” Steve said slowly, carefully, like he was headed onto a minefield, “If you’ll be willing to take on another pair of hands-”
“Sahib, sahib! ” A young boy interrupted Steve’s tentative suggestion, no more than twelve, pounding up the dusty road from the jetty towards them, thin arms flailing, chattering out a string of his local lingo. Tony listened, frowning, and then he said something sharp in return in the same dialect. The boy nodded and ran back up towards the town, sandals flapping in the dust.
“Himmler’s on the move,” Tony said curtly, starting to walk briskly towards the jetty. “We’d better catch up with Pepper and Jarvis. There’s a small speedboat that we can use, they should be just upriver.”
“Oh… of course.” Steve looked a little defeated, but he trotted quickly after Tony.
“Replaced SHIELD agents, huh.” Rhodey asked Bucky, amused.
“Steve’s idea,” Bucky admitted; Steve had all but begged Fury to let them go in place of the SHIELD agents that had already been assigned; they had been in the helicarrier when the message from Tony had come in.
It wasn’t as though Steve was bothering to hide what was now probably more than an infatuation. Homosexuals and bisexuals couldn’t serve in the Army, and Bucky was fairly certain that Fury had taken Steve aside to give him a few warnings, but there seemed to be something about Tony Stark that was causing Steve to throw caution to the wind. “Do you know how hard it is to get a Marvels subscription in a war zone?”
“I’ll talk to our publishing team,” Rhodey said, poker faced. “Do you know how hard it is to get a copy of American newspapers in Nepal? Let alone American newspapers featuring Captain America’s exploits?”
“So it’s like that,” Bucky said, surprised despite himself. He’d rather thought that Tony wasn’t interested. As far as he knew, Steve and Tony didn’t even correspond; logistically, it was probably impossible, particularly with Tony’s traveling schedule. And besides, for someone as rich and well connected as Tony, finding anyone to warm his bed wouldn’t be a problem; he couldn’t be lonely.
“Yeah.” Rhodey nodded. “Next month Tony will be in New York, though. He has to go back once a year for a month or so, invent something to keep his company bigwigs happy, meet and greet and pretend that he’s still the CEO.”
“Oh.” Bucky thought over his schedules quickly. After this they were due to be deployed back on the European front, but perhaps Steve could make some arrangements. “Good to know. Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.” Rhodey grinned broadly. “The month is meant to be downtime for the rest of us, but Tony usually uses it to make more trouble than he’s worth. Maybe this time I can even spend the whole of it with the missus without having to come haring down to New York to help clean up a mess.”
3.0
“You are a very determined young man,” Tony said, startled to find Steve lounging in a plush chair in the sumptuous lobby of the Oberoi Grand Kolkata, ostensibly reading a paper. Eyeing the battered suitcase beside Steve’s feet, Tony added, “And a very presumptuous one.”
“I might just be waiting for check in,” Steve affected hurt, though the smile was in his eyes. “Into my own room.”
“No doubt,” Tony said dryly. “Well, come on, then.”
Steve picked up his suitcase, absolutely unselfconscious, and thankfully unrecognizable as Captain America in civilian clothing; an old shirt and an equally old pair of slacks, far more underdressed than even the janitor sweeping the floor in a corner of the lobby. The manager at the concierge seemed mildly scandalized as Tony asked for his keys and led Steve towards the lifts, but the hotel, at least, could be trusted to be discreet about gossip, and it was too late in the afternoon and too early in the evening for many guests to be up and about in the lobby.
Steve was wise enough not to talk until Tony had locked them into the luxury suite, the suitcase propped against a low table and a suspiciously familiar, fairly flat wrapped up package with straps leant against a couch. “I can’t go anywhere without it any longer,” Steve admitted, slightly embarrassed, as he noticed Tony staring at the covered shield.
“You travel light.”
“You’re not going to be here that long.” Steve smiled. “And I don’t have that much leave. Bucky went back to the States before me, with Fury.”
“So did Pepper and Rhodey. Jarvis is seeing some friends in Kolkata.” Tony folded his arms, the answering smile he couldn’t help playing on his lips. “So that leaves just us, and a woefully under-appreciated luxury suite, and quite a few hours till dinner.”
“You came back to the hotel earlier than I’d thought. If you’re tired,” Steve said, big hands curling around Tony’s hips, “We could just-”
“And waste time and my money?” Tony leaned up for his kiss, and allowed Steve to press up against him, tongues slipping and sliding into each other’s mouths, curling his fingers into spiky, short blonde hair until he felt a rumbling moan against him and Steve’s cock stir against his hip. “The bed’s in the other room.”
“Oh?” Steve asked, his tone teasing as he rubbed the flat of his palm slowly and tenderly up the small of Tony’s back, pulling up his shirt, his hands hot and rough.
“Want to see whether I can put you through it?”
Steve’s eyes darkened, and the next kiss was harder, more demanding, palms pressed over Tony’s cheeks and stroking down to his shoulders, walking them slowly backwards until the back of Tony’s knees hit the edge of the four-poster, and Tony let out a soft huff as Steve pushed him down onto the thick quilt and clambered on up over him. “I’ve had to wait a long time,” Steve told him, when Tony made a huff of protest, and he caught the lobe of Tony’s ear briefly in his teeth, making him hiss and moan. “You’re a difficult man to pin down.”
“I don’t see you having problems, Captain.” Tony rolled his hips up pointedly against Steve’s thigh, and the younger man growled, mouthing down against his jaw.
“I meant in general.” Steve was unbuttoning his shirt, straddling his hips, a noticeable bulge growing in his slacks, and Tony couldn’t help but reach forward and give it an experimental squeeze. Steve gasped, fingers faltering as he pushed his hips into Tony’s fingers, moaned as they rubbed down further and carefully cupped the weight of his balls through the fabric, then back up again with another teasing squeeze that made Steve groan and curl his free hand over Tony’s shoulders.
“It’s hard to keep a forwarding address when you’re always rooting around the ends of the earth.”
“I know… ah, I meant—” Steve was panting now, shallowly, and he hadn’t even managed to get Tony’s shirt off, “—like Dak… Dakshineswar, you could have told me, oh, that you were coming to Kolkata afterwards, I had to wheedle it… ngh… out of Fury.”
“I hope you didn’t promise him any favors.” Tony decided to take pity on Steve, unbuttoning his own shirt and shrugging out of it, even as shaky fingers started to work on the buckle of his belt.
“I wouldn’t have had to if you’d told me. Rhodey told Bucky that you were headed back to New York.”
“Eventually, yes,” Tony said vaguely. Rhodey had grudgingly agreed to provide the feint, despite his friend’s reservations about the matter; Rhodey genuinely liked Steve and Bucky, and it had taken a lot of talking before he’d agreed to shade down the truth a little. Tony was expected back in New York, but only in his own time; his company had given up trying to control him a long time ago.
Steve sighed, and looked him straight in the eye. “Tony, I recognize that I’ve been pretty forward on this, but if you really, absolutely, didn’t want to-”
“I really, absolutely want to.” Tony rubbed his own erection pointedly up between Steve’s legs, causing the Captain to sit up straight with a soft gasp. “That’s also the problem: I have no self-control where you’re involved.”
“What problem?” Steve was busy trying to tug down Tony’s pants, muscles flexing distractingly under his thin shirt, and Tony’s mouth was going dry as he reached up to run his palms over the hard lines admiringly; then Steve had managed to free his cock, closing his thick fingers over it lightly and grinning as Tony whined deep in his throat and pushed into the faint pressure. “Tony?”
“Yeah?”
“You said you had a problem?” Steve squeezed the base and dragged his palm up and it was delicious.
“Uh.” Tony tried to concentrate, even as his toes curled in his shoes and he dug his fingers into Steve’s shoulders. “You realize I can’t think straight right now?”
“Maybe,” Steve said with mock innocence as he gave Tony’s cock a final squeeze and then pulled him up further on the bed, stroking down to his calf to pull off his right shoe, then his left. “How about now?”
“You must have this thing for shoes,” Tony said dryly, though he squirmed obligingly until his pants and his underwear were strewn on the floor and watched hungrily as Steve began to pull off his shirt. “I guess there isn’t one right now. In fact this is turning out to be a great idea.”
“Good.”
“We can have some fun, and then afterwards you’d stop pestering me,” Tony said, warming to the said idea; he couldn’t quite remember why he’d been against it in the first place. It wasn’t as though he wasn’t used to being-
“Wait.” Steve frowned, his fingers freezing as he worked on his own belt, “What do you mean, afterwards?”
“We’re both speaking English, I do think.”
“No,” Steve persisted, leaning back up over him, big hands on either side of Tony’s head. “You think I… this isn’t going to be a once off thing, is it?”
“Isn’t it?”
Steve made a choked sound, his hands curling tight in the sheets, suddenly tense, and he asked, tightly, “Is… is that what you want?”
“Isn’t it what you want?” Tony asked, puzzled. “Well, I guess I’m open to a couple of repeats-”
“Tony,” Steve said firmly, his eyes narrowed. “It’s not what I want.”
“Really?” Tony arched an eyebrow, his smile cynical. “Fury told Rhodey that you had a girl back home.”
“The word there is ‘had’, and I thought you’d know better than to listen to what Fury tells you. Fury’s of the opinion that, private life or not, if I slip up, it’d be disaster for morale or something.” Steve’s expression was twisted now, he was angry, Tony realized with a start. “Tony, I’m crazy about you. Hell, if I could, I’d have proposed to you by now. It kills me that you keep disappearing on me, that I never know when I’d next see you or what you’re doing until I see the latest copy of Marvels in the barracks mess hall!”
“Ah,” Tony said, because there wasn’t much that he could think of offhand to say to that, then his brain tried a little harder. “I see.”
“God. I’m going to have it out with Nick,” Steve muttered, slumping down to bury his face against Tony’s neck, tense even as Tony tentatively stroked his hands down his back, kneading, until Steve sighed and pressed butterfly kisses up towards Tony’s jaw and licked into his mouth, tangling their tongues, sloppy and rough until they both broke, gasping harshly for breath, their foreheads pressed together; Tony felt the flutter of Steve’s lashes against his brow and closed his eyes, trying to even his breathing.
“I’m headed to Mongolia after this,” Tony said, raising his eyes up to the rich, embroidered earth-brown drapes that framed the antique bed.
“What?”
“You said you wanted to know what I’m doing. Fury tells me that the Japanese are poking around there. Supposed to have some sort of great treasure. I think it’s a wild goose chase, but I haven’t been to Mongolia before, so I’m open to a sponsored trip. We’ll be there for a couple of months, and then I’ll be taking a flight over to England to check on an old friend in Oxford.”
“Oh.” Steve sounded surprised. “Okay. I can be in London around that time, I think.”
“Good.” Tony pushed lightly at Steve’s shoulders. “Now why don’t you get back to what you were doing before my attack of idiocy?”
“It was more of a misunderstanding on both our parts,” Steve said generously, though he obliged, getting back up on his knees as he pulled off his belt.
“Let the older man be the mature party here,” Tony said, watching appreciatively as Steve wriggled out of his slacks, reaching out to curl his fingers around the thick, long erection and stroke it, until Steve was groaning and mouthing urgently over his shoulders, teeth rasping against his skin as Tony rubbed his thumb up and over the wet slit. “Do you have a rubber?”
“Y-yeah.” Steve reluctantly pulled away to fish about in the pockets of his slacks, and he flushed when Tony grinned at him and arched an eyebrow. “They’re easily available, so everyone in my unit keeps a few. They’re useful.”
“I’ll bet.”
“No, really,” Steve said earnestly, pulling out a nondescript packet and even a small tube, apparently about to describe the non-sexual use of condoms and lubricant—at least until Tony leaned up to take the packet from him and push him back down onto the pillows.
Tony was decidedly rusty, but Steve still panted and made interesting whimpering noises when he carefully took him into his throat, his jaw feeling the stretch as he swallowed slowly, stroking what he couldn’t take and rubbing his tongue over what he could; Steve was big, and Tony was going to be hoarse after this, but he sucked hard and bobbed his head anyway, moaning as Steve gasped his name and clawed his hands into the sheets, his gorgeous body straining at the effort of not moving.
When the bitter, sharp taste was becoming more pronounced and Steve was writhing under him and jamming his heels into the sheets beside Tony’s knees, Tony gave the thickened head a last, playful lick and drew back to lube up his fingers, ignoring Steve’s pitchy moan of disappointment. Then Steve was pushing down on the first finger, with a dry, harsh gasp, and God if that wasn’t bloody hot.
“You do this often?” Tony asked, as he pushed his finger in to the knuckle, stroking up at the hot, velvet heat around it.
“No, not… not often…” Steve’s voice cracked. “I can take another one. Now.”
“Pushy,” Tony rebuked, though he grinned and obeyed, scissoring to stretch; Steve’s eyes were closed, his brow furrowed in concentration as he forced himself to relax, his thighs spread wide; arching and pressing his cheek into the pillows as Tony bent back down over his flushed prick, grazing his teeth carefully over the blunt head and following it with a rough lap.
“Come on, that’s enough.” Steve reached out and tugged insistently at his shoulders when Tony managed to work in a third finger, and added a broken, “Please,” when Tony didn’t immediately comply, stroking his fingers in and curling them up until Steve whined deep in his throat and jerked. “Tony!”
“Keep your voice down,” Tony admonished, amused, though he hastily rolled the rubber onto himself and slicked up, then braced his palms on Steve’s hips as he pushed in, gasping and shuddering when Steve clenched tight over him with a hungry moan. “Jesus… ease up, Steve, relax, I can’t… ah,” he choked out a groan as Steve’s body gave, so very obligingly, until he was fully hilted, pulling Steve’s ankles up to his shoulders with ease, his free hand pumping Steve’s cock leisurely until Steve pushed into his grasp, biting at his lower lip, his eyes hot and dark with lust.
“How do you want this?” Tony asked, when he managed to find his voice, and promptly lost it again when Steve instantly replied, roughly, “Hard.”
It took a few attempts and a pillow relocated under Steve’s hips for Tony to find the perfect angle that made Steve twist up in ecstasy under him and cry out; then Steve had his fingers curled up into the headboard and the edge of the bed, bucking back as much as he could into Tony’s thrusts, his handsome face slack and open with desire as Tony pounded into him, the four-poster bed creaking and groaning beneath them. Steve tensed up and turned quickly to sink his teeth into the remaining pillow to stifle his cries when he shattered, messy and thick, over Tony’s fingers, moaning as Tony rode it out, rolling his hips and clenching his teeth, waiting until the shaking subsided into a boneless sprawl and a lazy, sated smile before letting his fraying control slip, pleasure pushing him gasping over the edge.
“I can be in Kolkata for a few more days,” Tony told Steve afterwards, as they lay curled on the bed in a tangle of sweaty limbs, his head tucked under Steve’s chin. “Since you haven’t been here before, and all that.”
“Okay,” Steve said, sleepily, squeezing his hand. Lips brushed briefly over his forehead, all tender familiarity. Tony was fairly sure that he could get used to this.
IV
The funeral was a State affair, complete with a flag-draped procession towards the Arlington National Cemetery. The coffin was empty, and even weighted down; it was obvious to Bucky, standing silently next to Tony, the priest’s words forgotten noise as he stared thin-lipped at Roosevelt, spade in hand. Beside Tony, Pepper was red-eyed under her black veil, Jarvis pale and silent behind her. Rhodey had been relegated to the audience, possibly because of the color of his skin or because of the already burgeoning crowd, but Tony had seemed to be too heartsick and too tired to argue the point with Fury, and Rhodey had murmured a quick word to Pepper when she had opened her mouth to object, and then he had shaken his head at Bucky when he had taken a step forward.
Tony looked away at the “Amen”, and clenched his fingers tightly as the first spade-full of dirt scattered on the coffin’s embossed lid. Bucky knew how he felt; it was like the world ending, the remainder all dull static. Bucky had lost a friend; Tony, it seemed, had lost far more.
Fury caught up with them when Bucky was following Tony and the others towards the waiting car, having picked up Rhodey from the rope line. “Tony.”
“What do you want, Fury?” Tony asked, and Bucky was barely able to recognize his own voice, a quiet, flat sound.
“You couldn’t have been there.”
“I know.” Tony had been in Siberia, investigating an abandoned mine, when Steve and Bucky had done the insane and jumped on a missile in some crazy attempt to disarm it. Bucky had fallen, and gotten away from it with only a few broken ribs. Steve had still been on the missile when it had exploded, far in the distance. “If you’re here to talk to me about my Armor and what-could-have-beens, fucking save it.”
Fury regarded him soberly, his single eye narrowed, then he looked away, fishing in his pockets for a cigar. “I wasn’t.”
“Then? The war’s over, Fury. Leave me alone.”
“You’re going with Bucky?”
“He’ll be coming with us for a while.” Tony shrugged, shaking his head when Fury offered him a cigar. “I’ll take care of him.”
“I asked,” Bucky said quickly, before Fury could object.
“Good. I guess that’s one less thing to worry about.” Fury eyed him briefly, as though gauging his willingness. “Where are you headed?”
“Why do you care? I’m a private citizen.”
“The Moor Rings-”
“Fuck the rings, leave the last one where it’s at. The war’s over, isn’t it? And Himmler is dead.”
“The Thule Society isn’t gone.”
“That’s a SHIELD problem then.” Seeing Fury’s scowl, Tony set his jaw. “I’m going to find Namor, poke around the North Atlantic.”
“What?” Fury looked genuinely surprised. “What for?” Then the dots seemed to add up. “If you’re looking for a body, you’re going to be looking for a fucking pin in a sea of haystacks full of fish that eat pins.”
“Maybe.”
“Tony, Steve was a good friend to me. If there was a running chance that we could get back his body and give him a proper burial, I’ll be manning the ship personally. We’ve already searched the possible landing spots extensively, Bucky could tell you that. You’ve got to learn to let go, Tony.”
“I’m done with chasing artifacts and dead men’s toys.” Tony jammed his hands into the pockets of his suit as they reached the sleek black car. “And until I find a body, I’m not going to let it be. You’ll have to chase the Ring up in Angkor your fucking self.”
“All right,” Fury said neutrally. He was still looking on after them, smoking, as the car pulled away from the cemetery.
4.0
Five years.
Tony sat on a chair beside the bunk, barely able to breathe. The consoles indicated that all lifesigns were normal, amazingly normal, for all that Steve had been frozen in ice for half a decade. Captain America slept, the big hand that Tony held in his grasp only faintly cooler than normal, the only indication of the miracle that had just happened.
The engines of the Lady Dorma gave the entire ship a constant background hum as her captain turned the submarine back towards warmer waters, back towards civilization. After a year, Namor had been ready to give up the search; only Tony’s willingness to build him other submarines, faster, more specialized, had him persevering, if grudgingly. After two, Pepper had returned to New York, taken up an editor’s position at the New York Times. After three, Rhodey had returned, under pressure from his family, and after four, Fury had recalled Bucky, to take up leadership of the Invaders. Jarvis had stuck by him, maintaining the Armors in the hull of the Dorma, even as they had been modified extensively for underwater use.
And then the breakthrough had come through one of Namor’s sources, with his territory expanded through the three new submarines that Tony had built for him, they had found Steve frozen in the ice in an Inuit village, worshipped by the bloody natives. Tony hadn’t been sure whether to laugh or cry at the news; they’d spend so long scouring the sea and the ice, only to find Steve on land.
It had been Namor who had noticed that Steve, despite all odds, was still breathing.
Tony turned the big palm over in his hands, and rubbed his thumb over the lifeline, slow and unsteady, then he flinched as Steve stirred, coughing, his eyes squeezing tighter, then Steve opened them, blinking, sitting up sharply and slumping against the hull, legs tangled in the sheets.
“Steve! Steve, it’s me. I’ve got you.” Tony leaned forward quickly to grab Steve by the shoulders. “I’ve got you, calm down.”
Steve stared at him blankly, then as Tony thought brain damage with a sinking heart, shakily reached forward and rubbed his thumbs up over the beard that Tony shaved now and then whenever he remembered, frowning. “Tony?” His voice was scratchy from lack of use, and he cleared his throat. “Oh my God. Tony.”
“It’s me,” Tony said, relieved. “You’re back.”
“I was… I was… there was a missile,” Steve said, frowning. “Bucky and I… where’s Bucky?”
“He’s all right. He’s leading the Invaders.”
“Leading the…?” Steve’s hand crept up, to his sideburns, and he said, his tone wondering, “Silver. How long have I been out?”
“Five years,” Tony said, now a little self-conscious. He hadn’t really registered the graying hair, but it hadbeen five years of self-reproach and regret. He probably looked a fright now, paler, older, with darker rings under his eyes, hair starting to silver. “I, uh-”
“Makes you look distinguished.” Steve smiled, lopsided and adoring, and Tony’s reservations eroded as he was pulled down for a sloppy kiss, their teeth scraping together as uncoordinated hands dragged him close too fast, and they ended up in a sprawl over the bunk, Tony chuckling as he finally pulled up for air.
“I forgot, you have an older men fetish.”
“I have a Tony Stark fetish,” Steve corrected, unrepentant, curling his arms around Tony’s waist to hold him in place. “Is the war over?”
“The war’s over.”
“Good,” Steve said feelingly. “We won?”
“We won.”
“All right.”
“All right?” Tony teased, lightheaded as Steve managed to roll them over and reverse their positions. “Is that all you’re going to say?”
“I’ll think of something more suitable for the papers in time.” Steve said, more seriously, leaning back down to slant their mouths together, the beginning to their second chance warm and wet and sweet.
-fin. I killed off Bucky in IV at first, then realized that OP probably likes Bucky (hence the stipulation in the prompt) and undid it. :O Mongolia reference: The Good, the Bad and the Weird, hilarious Korean Western movie.-
Previous
Author:
manic_intentSummary: Steve hits on a total stranger in Port-Lyautey, much to Bucky's astonishment.
Pairings/Characters: Tony/Steve
Word Count: 10,396
A/N: For the fic exchange, prompt: Steve wants Tony. Tony's reluctant (age [Steve's in his early 20s, Tony's getting close to 40], experience, whatever). Bucky's alternately horrified and amused.
Universe: Iron Man Noir
Rating: NC17
Warnings: Spoilers for Iron Man Noir, I suppose.
Beta:
mozzarellaroses :DPart One Part Two
III
The temple town of Dakshineswar was dusty and scorching hot, and the color of their skin drew excited children of various ages, giggling and pointing as they circled Bucky and Steve in a pack, pointing at their gear and poking at Steve’s shield, until even Steve was laughing and trying to talk to them in sign language, taking off his helmet for a boy to hold and inspect, then a glove for a pair of little twin girls. The other sahibs, apparently, were already here, and it seemed that the children had been assigned to the railway station just to herd them over when they arrived.
It was Bucky’s first time in India, and he wasn’t entirely sure if he was enjoying it. He and Steve hadn’t been involved in the South-east Asian fronts, and although the people had seemed friendly enough when they’d landed in Kolkata and proceeded to make their way to Dakshineswar, Fury had warned them to keep to themselves and not to get into any trouble. It seemed that there was a growing movement in India that was seeking independence from the British, and that the Axis powers were likely fuelling a revolution in the hopes of destabilizing the region. Certainly they had drawn quite a few askance stares in Kolkata, particularly Steve in his famous uniform.
Insects butted at his sweat-sticky skin and lodged themselves in his hair despite Bucky’s half-hearted efforts to bat them away, and the food tended towards ‘spicy’ or ‘very spicy’. Apparently even the water wasn’t safe to drink; SHIELD had loaded them up with bottled water from the military supplies, and had warned them off buying things off the streets. Steve hadn’t listened, once they were out of earshot of the airbase and submerged in a bazaar thick with the scents of curry, spices and ghee, but then, Steve was the one with the enhanced body.
Dakshineswar, thankfully, seemed quieter than Kolkata and its madness of thronging crowds, for all that it was so close to the capital. The uneasy sense of suspicion that pervaded Kolkata seemed to fade in the temple town, and Bucky found himself winking at trio of little girls who had used thumb and forefinger to encircle their eyes to mimic his mask; they fell to delighted laughter, clapping their hands, draped in brilliant, bright sashes.
Tony Stark was smoking, sprawled on a bench at an outdoor coffeehouse, his back pressed against the table, a white shirt rolled up to his elbows, khaki slacks tucked into knee-high boots, looking amused and occasionally fanning himself with a panama hat. Rhodey was pulling faces at a group of children, who gasped and giggled and occasionally reached out with splayed fingers to compare their own coffee-colored skin against Rhodey’s darker hue. The adults were more reserved, whispering and pointing at a respectful distance, or peering out at the noise from the windows of their narrow houses, curious but unafraid; it seemed as though Tony, at least, was a familiar face hereabouts.
“Where are Pepper and Jarvis?” Steve asked once they were close.
“Up on the Hooghly in a fishing boat, observing the temple. Where’s Fury?” Tony arched an eyebrow, squinting at them and shading his eyes briefly with his hat. “You weren’t the backup that I was expecting.”
“Disappointed?” Steve asked, a faint smile playing on his lips that made Rhodey snort and Bucky feel puzzled. There seemed to be a silent conversation taking place under the one he could hear, and he wasn’t quite sure whether to demand to be let into it. Steve had been pulled into the Greenland Gambit (so called by the Marvels issue), but the comic had focused more on the capture and SHIELD’s subsequent rescue. Bucky had been dead jealous that he’d been consigned to London at that point in time.
“I might be,” Tony said, though his eyes were half-lidded and appreciative as he subjected Steve to another long once-over, taking another long, acrid drag of his cigarette, then dropping it onto the ground and grinding his heel upon the ember. “Let’s get moving then.”
“Sure.” Rhodey counted out coins and sweets to delighted kids from his pockets, and the kids solemnly returned Steve’s gear even as Tony began to walk down the street in the direction of the river, thumbs tucked in the pockets of his slacks.
“Sources tell me that one of the Moor rings is held in one of the sanctums of the Kali temples,” Tony said, once Steve and Bucky caught up with him. “It took a few months of paying people to snoop about to narrow it down.”
“To Dakshineswar?” Steve asked. “What tipped you off?”
“Well,” Tony admitted, “I got word that Himmler is targeting it, probably within this week. So I’m not entirely sure whether it’s there, but if Himmler or the Thule are going to take a shot at it, I’ll want to be there to at least make sure that none of the natives get caught in the crossfire.” He caught Bucky’s blink of surprise, and smiled crookedly. “I’m rather fond of India. Particularly up north, they’re an interesting people. And I like the food. ‘Course, you have to be careful where you buy it from, and you need a little resistance to the heat, but it’s good.”
“I don’t think you published that many adventures involving India,” Steve said thoughtfully. “If at all. You had a few pages on Darjeeling during that issue where you were headed to Kathmandu.”
“We only publish the ones where we find something,” Tony pointed out. “But the things you could see, especially when you’re headed up towards Nepal, or through the Silk Road, it humbles you.”
“Didn’t work on you, boss,” Rhodey commented mildly, behind them.
“We might check Angkor next if this is a dead end,” Tony ignored Rhodey. “I hear Fury’s getting close on that one.”
“Maybe after the war,” Steve said slowly, carefully, like he was headed onto a minefield, “If you’ll be willing to take on another pair of hands-”
“Sahib, sahib! ” A young boy interrupted Steve’s tentative suggestion, no more than twelve, pounding up the dusty road from the jetty towards them, thin arms flailing, chattering out a string of his local lingo. Tony listened, frowning, and then he said something sharp in return in the same dialect. The boy nodded and ran back up towards the town, sandals flapping in the dust.
“Himmler’s on the move,” Tony said curtly, starting to walk briskly towards the jetty. “We’d better catch up with Pepper and Jarvis. There’s a small speedboat that we can use, they should be just upriver.”
“Oh… of course.” Steve looked a little defeated, but he trotted quickly after Tony.
“Replaced SHIELD agents, huh.” Rhodey asked Bucky, amused.
“Steve’s idea,” Bucky admitted; Steve had all but begged Fury to let them go in place of the SHIELD agents that had already been assigned; they had been in the helicarrier when the message from Tony had come in.
It wasn’t as though Steve was bothering to hide what was now probably more than an infatuation. Homosexuals and bisexuals couldn’t serve in the Army, and Bucky was fairly certain that Fury had taken Steve aside to give him a few warnings, but there seemed to be something about Tony Stark that was causing Steve to throw caution to the wind. “Do you know how hard it is to get a Marvels subscription in a war zone?”
“I’ll talk to our publishing team,” Rhodey said, poker faced. “Do you know how hard it is to get a copy of American newspapers in Nepal? Let alone American newspapers featuring Captain America’s exploits?”
“So it’s like that,” Bucky said, surprised despite himself. He’d rather thought that Tony wasn’t interested. As far as he knew, Steve and Tony didn’t even correspond; logistically, it was probably impossible, particularly with Tony’s traveling schedule. And besides, for someone as rich and well connected as Tony, finding anyone to warm his bed wouldn’t be a problem; he couldn’t be lonely.
“Yeah.” Rhodey nodded. “Next month Tony will be in New York, though. He has to go back once a year for a month or so, invent something to keep his company bigwigs happy, meet and greet and pretend that he’s still the CEO.”
“Oh.” Bucky thought over his schedules quickly. After this they were due to be deployed back on the European front, but perhaps Steve could make some arrangements. “Good to know. Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.” Rhodey grinned broadly. “The month is meant to be downtime for the rest of us, but Tony usually uses it to make more trouble than he’s worth. Maybe this time I can even spend the whole of it with the missus without having to come haring down to New York to help clean up a mess.”
“You are a very determined young man,” Tony said, startled to find Steve lounging in a plush chair in the sumptuous lobby of the Oberoi Grand Kolkata, ostensibly reading a paper. Eyeing the battered suitcase beside Steve’s feet, Tony added, “And a very presumptuous one.”
“I might just be waiting for check in,” Steve affected hurt, though the smile was in his eyes. “Into my own room.”
“No doubt,” Tony said dryly. “Well, come on, then.”
Steve picked up his suitcase, absolutely unselfconscious, and thankfully unrecognizable as Captain America in civilian clothing; an old shirt and an equally old pair of slacks, far more underdressed than even the janitor sweeping the floor in a corner of the lobby. The manager at the concierge seemed mildly scandalized as Tony asked for his keys and led Steve towards the lifts, but the hotel, at least, could be trusted to be discreet about gossip, and it was too late in the afternoon and too early in the evening for many guests to be up and about in the lobby.
Steve was wise enough not to talk until Tony had locked them into the luxury suite, the suitcase propped against a low table and a suspiciously familiar, fairly flat wrapped up package with straps leant against a couch. “I can’t go anywhere without it any longer,” Steve admitted, slightly embarrassed, as he noticed Tony staring at the covered shield.
“You travel light.”
“You’re not going to be here that long.” Steve smiled. “And I don’t have that much leave. Bucky went back to the States before me, with Fury.”
“So did Pepper and Rhodey. Jarvis is seeing some friends in Kolkata.” Tony folded his arms, the answering smile he couldn’t help playing on his lips. “So that leaves just us, and a woefully under-appreciated luxury suite, and quite a few hours till dinner.”
“You came back to the hotel earlier than I’d thought. If you’re tired,” Steve said, big hands curling around Tony’s hips, “We could just-”
“And waste time and my money?” Tony leaned up for his kiss, and allowed Steve to press up against him, tongues slipping and sliding into each other’s mouths, curling his fingers into spiky, short blonde hair until he felt a rumbling moan against him and Steve’s cock stir against his hip. “The bed’s in the other room.”
“Oh?” Steve asked, his tone teasing as he rubbed the flat of his palm slowly and tenderly up the small of Tony’s back, pulling up his shirt, his hands hot and rough.
“Want to see whether I can put you through it?”
Steve’s eyes darkened, and the next kiss was harder, more demanding, palms pressed over Tony’s cheeks and stroking down to his shoulders, walking them slowly backwards until the back of Tony’s knees hit the edge of the four-poster, and Tony let out a soft huff as Steve pushed him down onto the thick quilt and clambered on up over him. “I’ve had to wait a long time,” Steve told him, when Tony made a huff of protest, and he caught the lobe of Tony’s ear briefly in his teeth, making him hiss and moan. “You’re a difficult man to pin down.”
“I don’t see you having problems, Captain.” Tony rolled his hips up pointedly against Steve’s thigh, and the younger man growled, mouthing down against his jaw.
“I meant in general.” Steve was unbuttoning his shirt, straddling his hips, a noticeable bulge growing in his slacks, and Tony couldn’t help but reach forward and give it an experimental squeeze. Steve gasped, fingers faltering as he pushed his hips into Tony’s fingers, moaned as they rubbed down further and carefully cupped the weight of his balls through the fabric, then back up again with another teasing squeeze that made Steve groan and curl his free hand over Tony’s shoulders.
“It’s hard to keep a forwarding address when you’re always rooting around the ends of the earth.”
“I know… ah, I meant—” Steve was panting now, shallowly, and he hadn’t even managed to get Tony’s shirt off, “—like Dak… Dakshineswar, you could have told me, oh, that you were coming to Kolkata afterwards, I had to wheedle it… ngh… out of Fury.”
“I hope you didn’t promise him any favors.” Tony decided to take pity on Steve, unbuttoning his own shirt and shrugging out of it, even as shaky fingers started to work on the buckle of his belt.
“I wouldn’t have had to if you’d told me. Rhodey told Bucky that you were headed back to New York.”
“Eventually, yes,” Tony said vaguely. Rhodey had grudgingly agreed to provide the feint, despite his friend’s reservations about the matter; Rhodey genuinely liked Steve and Bucky, and it had taken a lot of talking before he’d agreed to shade down the truth a little. Tony was expected back in New York, but only in his own time; his company had given up trying to control him a long time ago.
Steve sighed, and looked him straight in the eye. “Tony, I recognize that I’ve been pretty forward on this, but if you really, absolutely, didn’t want to-”
“I really, absolutely want to.” Tony rubbed his own erection pointedly up between Steve’s legs, causing the Captain to sit up straight with a soft gasp. “That’s also the problem: I have no self-control where you’re involved.”
“What problem?” Steve was busy trying to tug down Tony’s pants, muscles flexing distractingly under his thin shirt, and Tony’s mouth was going dry as he reached up to run his palms over the hard lines admiringly; then Steve had managed to free his cock, closing his thick fingers over it lightly and grinning as Tony whined deep in his throat and pushed into the faint pressure. “Tony?”
“Yeah?”
“You said you had a problem?” Steve squeezed the base and dragged his palm up and it was delicious.
“Uh.” Tony tried to concentrate, even as his toes curled in his shoes and he dug his fingers into Steve’s shoulders. “You realize I can’t think straight right now?”
“Maybe,” Steve said with mock innocence as he gave Tony’s cock a final squeeze and then pulled him up further on the bed, stroking down to his calf to pull off his right shoe, then his left. “How about now?”
“You must have this thing for shoes,” Tony said dryly, though he squirmed obligingly until his pants and his underwear were strewn on the floor and watched hungrily as Steve began to pull off his shirt. “I guess there isn’t one right now. In fact this is turning out to be a great idea.”
“Good.”
“We can have some fun, and then afterwards you’d stop pestering me,” Tony said, warming to the said idea; he couldn’t quite remember why he’d been against it in the first place. It wasn’t as though he wasn’t used to being-
“Wait.” Steve frowned, his fingers freezing as he worked on his own belt, “What do you mean, afterwards?”
“We’re both speaking English, I do think.”
“No,” Steve persisted, leaning back up over him, big hands on either side of Tony’s head. “You think I… this isn’t going to be a once off thing, is it?”
“Isn’t it?”
Steve made a choked sound, his hands curling tight in the sheets, suddenly tense, and he asked, tightly, “Is… is that what you want?”
“Isn’t it what you want?” Tony asked, puzzled. “Well, I guess I’m open to a couple of repeats-”
“Tony,” Steve said firmly, his eyes narrowed. “It’s not what I want.”
“Really?” Tony arched an eyebrow, his smile cynical. “Fury told Rhodey that you had a girl back home.”
“The word there is ‘had’, and I thought you’d know better than to listen to what Fury tells you. Fury’s of the opinion that, private life or not, if I slip up, it’d be disaster for morale or something.” Steve’s expression was twisted now, he was angry, Tony realized with a start. “Tony, I’m crazy about you. Hell, if I could, I’d have proposed to you by now. It kills me that you keep disappearing on me, that I never know when I’d next see you or what you’re doing until I see the latest copy of Marvels in the barracks mess hall!”
“Ah,” Tony said, because there wasn’t much that he could think of offhand to say to that, then his brain tried a little harder. “I see.”
“God. I’m going to have it out with Nick,” Steve muttered, slumping down to bury his face against Tony’s neck, tense even as Tony tentatively stroked his hands down his back, kneading, until Steve sighed and pressed butterfly kisses up towards Tony’s jaw and licked into his mouth, tangling their tongues, sloppy and rough until they both broke, gasping harshly for breath, their foreheads pressed together; Tony felt the flutter of Steve’s lashes against his brow and closed his eyes, trying to even his breathing.
“I’m headed to Mongolia after this,” Tony said, raising his eyes up to the rich, embroidered earth-brown drapes that framed the antique bed.
“What?”
“You said you wanted to know what I’m doing. Fury tells me that the Japanese are poking around there. Supposed to have some sort of great treasure. I think it’s a wild goose chase, but I haven’t been to Mongolia before, so I’m open to a sponsored trip. We’ll be there for a couple of months, and then I’ll be taking a flight over to England to check on an old friend in Oxford.”
“Oh.” Steve sounded surprised. “Okay. I can be in London around that time, I think.”
“Good.” Tony pushed lightly at Steve’s shoulders. “Now why don’t you get back to what you were doing before my attack of idiocy?”
“It was more of a misunderstanding on both our parts,” Steve said generously, though he obliged, getting back up on his knees as he pulled off his belt.
“Let the older man be the mature party here,” Tony said, watching appreciatively as Steve wriggled out of his slacks, reaching out to curl his fingers around the thick, long erection and stroke it, until Steve was groaning and mouthing urgently over his shoulders, teeth rasping against his skin as Tony rubbed his thumb up and over the wet slit. “Do you have a rubber?”
“Y-yeah.” Steve reluctantly pulled away to fish about in the pockets of his slacks, and he flushed when Tony grinned at him and arched an eyebrow. “They’re easily available, so everyone in my unit keeps a few. They’re useful.”
“I’ll bet.”
“No, really,” Steve said earnestly, pulling out a nondescript packet and even a small tube, apparently about to describe the non-sexual use of condoms and lubricant—at least until Tony leaned up to take the packet from him and push him back down onto the pillows.
Tony was decidedly rusty, but Steve still panted and made interesting whimpering noises when he carefully took him into his throat, his jaw feeling the stretch as he swallowed slowly, stroking what he couldn’t take and rubbing his tongue over what he could; Steve was big, and Tony was going to be hoarse after this, but he sucked hard and bobbed his head anyway, moaning as Steve gasped his name and clawed his hands into the sheets, his gorgeous body straining at the effort of not moving.
When the bitter, sharp taste was becoming more pronounced and Steve was writhing under him and jamming his heels into the sheets beside Tony’s knees, Tony gave the thickened head a last, playful lick and drew back to lube up his fingers, ignoring Steve’s pitchy moan of disappointment. Then Steve was pushing down on the first finger, with a dry, harsh gasp, and God if that wasn’t bloody hot.
“You do this often?” Tony asked, as he pushed his finger in to the knuckle, stroking up at the hot, velvet heat around it.
“No, not… not often…” Steve’s voice cracked. “I can take another one. Now.”
“Pushy,” Tony rebuked, though he grinned and obeyed, scissoring to stretch; Steve’s eyes were closed, his brow furrowed in concentration as he forced himself to relax, his thighs spread wide; arching and pressing his cheek into the pillows as Tony bent back down over his flushed prick, grazing his teeth carefully over the blunt head and following it with a rough lap.
“Come on, that’s enough.” Steve reached out and tugged insistently at his shoulders when Tony managed to work in a third finger, and added a broken, “Please,” when Tony didn’t immediately comply, stroking his fingers in and curling them up until Steve whined deep in his throat and jerked. “Tony!”
“Keep your voice down,” Tony admonished, amused, though he hastily rolled the rubber onto himself and slicked up, then braced his palms on Steve’s hips as he pushed in, gasping and shuddering when Steve clenched tight over him with a hungry moan. “Jesus… ease up, Steve, relax, I can’t… ah,” he choked out a groan as Steve’s body gave, so very obligingly, until he was fully hilted, pulling Steve’s ankles up to his shoulders with ease, his free hand pumping Steve’s cock leisurely until Steve pushed into his grasp, biting at his lower lip, his eyes hot and dark with lust.
“How do you want this?” Tony asked, when he managed to find his voice, and promptly lost it again when Steve instantly replied, roughly, “Hard.”
It took a few attempts and a pillow relocated under Steve’s hips for Tony to find the perfect angle that made Steve twist up in ecstasy under him and cry out; then Steve had his fingers curled up into the headboard and the edge of the bed, bucking back as much as he could into Tony’s thrusts, his handsome face slack and open with desire as Tony pounded into him, the four-poster bed creaking and groaning beneath them. Steve tensed up and turned quickly to sink his teeth into the remaining pillow to stifle his cries when he shattered, messy and thick, over Tony’s fingers, moaning as Tony rode it out, rolling his hips and clenching his teeth, waiting until the shaking subsided into a boneless sprawl and a lazy, sated smile before letting his fraying control slip, pleasure pushing him gasping over the edge.
“I can be in Kolkata for a few more days,” Tony told Steve afterwards, as they lay curled on the bed in a tangle of sweaty limbs, his head tucked under Steve’s chin. “Since you haven’t been here before, and all that.”
“Okay,” Steve said, sleepily, squeezing his hand. Lips brushed briefly over his forehead, all tender familiarity. Tony was fairly sure that he could get used to this.
The funeral was a State affair, complete with a flag-draped procession towards the Arlington National Cemetery. The coffin was empty, and even weighted down; it was obvious to Bucky, standing silently next to Tony, the priest’s words forgotten noise as he stared thin-lipped at Roosevelt, spade in hand. Beside Tony, Pepper was red-eyed under her black veil, Jarvis pale and silent behind her. Rhodey had been relegated to the audience, possibly because of the color of his skin or because of the already burgeoning crowd, but Tony had seemed to be too heartsick and too tired to argue the point with Fury, and Rhodey had murmured a quick word to Pepper when she had opened her mouth to object, and then he had shaken his head at Bucky when he had taken a step forward.
Tony looked away at the “Amen”, and clenched his fingers tightly as the first spade-full of dirt scattered on the coffin’s embossed lid. Bucky knew how he felt; it was like the world ending, the remainder all dull static. Bucky had lost a friend; Tony, it seemed, had lost far more.
Fury caught up with them when Bucky was following Tony and the others towards the waiting car, having picked up Rhodey from the rope line. “Tony.”
“What do you want, Fury?” Tony asked, and Bucky was barely able to recognize his own voice, a quiet, flat sound.
“You couldn’t have been there.”
“I know.” Tony had been in Siberia, investigating an abandoned mine, when Steve and Bucky had done the insane and jumped on a missile in some crazy attempt to disarm it. Bucky had fallen, and gotten away from it with only a few broken ribs. Steve had still been on the missile when it had exploded, far in the distance. “If you’re here to talk to me about my Armor and what-could-have-beens, fucking save it.”
Fury regarded him soberly, his single eye narrowed, then he looked away, fishing in his pockets for a cigar. “I wasn’t.”
“Then? The war’s over, Fury. Leave me alone.”
“You’re going with Bucky?”
“He’ll be coming with us for a while.” Tony shrugged, shaking his head when Fury offered him a cigar. “I’ll take care of him.”
“I asked,” Bucky said quickly, before Fury could object.
“Good. I guess that’s one less thing to worry about.” Fury eyed him briefly, as though gauging his willingness. “Where are you headed?”
“Why do you care? I’m a private citizen.”
“The Moor Rings-”
“Fuck the rings, leave the last one where it’s at. The war’s over, isn’t it? And Himmler is dead.”
“The Thule Society isn’t gone.”
“That’s a SHIELD problem then.” Seeing Fury’s scowl, Tony set his jaw. “I’m going to find Namor, poke around the North Atlantic.”
“What?” Fury looked genuinely surprised. “What for?” Then the dots seemed to add up. “If you’re looking for a body, you’re going to be looking for a fucking pin in a sea of haystacks full of fish that eat pins.”
“Maybe.”
“Tony, Steve was a good friend to me. If there was a running chance that we could get back his body and give him a proper burial, I’ll be manning the ship personally. We’ve already searched the possible landing spots extensively, Bucky could tell you that. You’ve got to learn to let go, Tony.”
“I’m done with chasing artifacts and dead men’s toys.” Tony jammed his hands into the pockets of his suit as they reached the sleek black car. “And until I find a body, I’m not going to let it be. You’ll have to chase the Ring up in Angkor your fucking self.”
“All right,” Fury said neutrally. He was still looking on after them, smoking, as the car pulled away from the cemetery.
Five years.
Tony sat on a chair beside the bunk, barely able to breathe. The consoles indicated that all lifesigns were normal, amazingly normal, for all that Steve had been frozen in ice for half a decade. Captain America slept, the big hand that Tony held in his grasp only faintly cooler than normal, the only indication of the miracle that had just happened.
The engines of the Lady Dorma gave the entire ship a constant background hum as her captain turned the submarine back towards warmer waters, back towards civilization. After a year, Namor had been ready to give up the search; only Tony’s willingness to build him other submarines, faster, more specialized, had him persevering, if grudgingly. After two, Pepper had returned to New York, taken up an editor’s position at the New York Times. After three, Rhodey had returned, under pressure from his family, and after four, Fury had recalled Bucky, to take up leadership of the Invaders. Jarvis had stuck by him, maintaining the Armors in the hull of the Dorma, even as they had been modified extensively for underwater use.
And then the breakthrough had come through one of Namor’s sources, with his territory expanded through the three new submarines that Tony had built for him, they had found Steve frozen in the ice in an Inuit village, worshipped by the bloody natives. Tony hadn’t been sure whether to laugh or cry at the news; they’d spend so long scouring the sea and the ice, only to find Steve on land.
It had been Namor who had noticed that Steve, despite all odds, was still breathing.
Tony turned the big palm over in his hands, and rubbed his thumb over the lifeline, slow and unsteady, then he flinched as Steve stirred, coughing, his eyes squeezing tighter, then Steve opened them, blinking, sitting up sharply and slumping against the hull, legs tangled in the sheets.
“Steve! Steve, it’s me. I’ve got you.” Tony leaned forward quickly to grab Steve by the shoulders. “I’ve got you, calm down.”
Steve stared at him blankly, then as Tony thought brain damage with a sinking heart, shakily reached forward and rubbed his thumbs up over the beard that Tony shaved now and then whenever he remembered, frowning. “Tony?” His voice was scratchy from lack of use, and he cleared his throat. “Oh my God. Tony.”
“It’s me,” Tony said, relieved. “You’re back.”
“I was… I was… there was a missile,” Steve said, frowning. “Bucky and I… where’s Bucky?”
“He’s all right. He’s leading the Invaders.”
“Leading the…?” Steve’s hand crept up, to his sideburns, and he said, his tone wondering, “Silver. How long have I been out?”
“Five years,” Tony said, now a little self-conscious. He hadn’t really registered the graying hair, but it hadbeen five years of self-reproach and regret. He probably looked a fright now, paler, older, with darker rings under his eyes, hair starting to silver. “I, uh-”
“Makes you look distinguished.” Steve smiled, lopsided and adoring, and Tony’s reservations eroded as he was pulled down for a sloppy kiss, their teeth scraping together as uncoordinated hands dragged him close too fast, and they ended up in a sprawl over the bunk, Tony chuckling as he finally pulled up for air.
“I forgot, you have an older men fetish.”
“I have a Tony Stark fetish,” Steve corrected, unrepentant, curling his arms around Tony’s waist to hold him in place. “Is the war over?”
“The war’s over.”
“Good,” Steve said feelingly. “We won?”
“We won.”
“All right.”
“All right?” Tony teased, lightheaded as Steve managed to roll them over and reverse their positions. “Is that all you’re going to say?”
“I’ll think of something more suitable for the papers in time.” Steve said, more seriously, leaning back down to slant their mouths together, the beginning to their second chance warm and wet and sweet.
-fin. I killed off Bucky in IV at first, then realized that OP probably likes Bucky (hence the stipulation in the prompt) and undid it. :O Mongolia reference: The Good, the Bad and the Weird, hilarious Korean Western movie.-
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no subject
I don't even know where to begin.
The characterizations are just gorgeous, with Tony's self-defensive snarkiness and Steve's earnestness and Pepper's attitude and Rhodey's sort of exasperated affection and Bucky's confusion and all the period concerns (race and gender and orientation and army and Fury's interference) and and and... *FLAIL*
You just about killed me with IV. Then I realised there was more to scroll through. :)
I LOVE this SO MUCH. Thank you!!!!
no subject
I don't write deathfic, so happy endings were a given ^^