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cap_ironman2010-12-30 07:18 pm
cap_ironman_fe) wrote in cap_ironman2010-12-30 07:18 pm
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jazzypom!
Title: Reconnection
Author:penumbren
Summary: Sometimes it's the quiet moments that a friendship needs the most.
Universe: 616
Characters: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark
Word Count: 1800
Beta: Tsukinofaerii
A/N: Thanks so much to my favourite Faerii for the beta! The song lyrics are from "He Wears a Pair of Silver Wings.".
Prompt: Tony plays a musical instrument and Steve stumbles on this fact unexpectedly
Things you'd like to see: Some musical knowledge, atmospherics, Tony unaware that Steve's watching him playing whatever the instrument is
Things you don't want: No schmoopy declarations of love.
------------------------------------------------------------------
Steve pushed open the door of the Mansion, glad to be home. His patrol had been long and boring, without the slightest hint of excitement to liven things up. Patrols had been like that a lot lately, but he still went. Spending the hours out in the city rather than in the Mansion made him less likely to brood.
Ever since their encounter with the Molecule Man a few weeks ago, he'd spent more time brooding than he cared to. He still hadn't resolved his mixed emotions about what had happened in New Jersey. He'd wanted to find out who was behind Iron Man's mask for a long time, but discovering that his best friends -- best friend -- had spent years lying to him... that was something he still didn't know how to cope with.
With a sigh, Steve resigned himself to another long night of fitful sleep. His stomach rumbled, and he changed direction, heading for the hallway leading to the kitchen instead of heading up the stairs to his room.
The quiet strains of a piano caught Steve’s attention, drawing him toward the seldom-used drawing room. The door hung slightly ajar, allowing him to hear the softly-played notes, and he pushed it open further with a cautious movement. He wasn’t aware that any of the Avengers played the piano, which made him curious as to who could be in the room, especially at the late hour. Thor was visiting his family in Asgard and Jan spent most nights at her Manhattan apartment. That left himself, Iron M–Tony, and Jarvis, and Jarvis had gone to visit his mother earlier in the day.
Frowning slightly, Steve peeked around the door into the sitting room, his eyebrows rising as he saw Tony seated in front of the piano. His hands moved with practiced ease on the keys, although the occasional discordant note and momentary pause spoke of some rustiness. He hesitated, not wanting to disturb Tony, but the opportunity to watch the man in such unguarded moment proved irresistible. Setting his shield down beside the door, Steve pushed his cowl back from his face, and settled against the doorframe so that he could listen… and watch.
Tony must have come into the room directly from another late night at work, Steve mused. His glance took in the jacket discarded carelessly across the back of the piano and the maroon dress shirt open at the collar, the sleeves rolled casually up to his elbows. His hair was rumpled and his face wore an expression of frustration familiar to Steve from too many late nights spent in the library. Memories of discussing everything from fantasy novels to current politics as they both tried to wind down flashed through Steve's mind. How many times, he wondered abruptly, had Tony worn that same expression beneath the armour? More often than he’d care to contemplate, he decided.
Steve pushed the thoughts away, ignoring the echoes of betrayal and confusion that he still felt when he thought about all the time Tony had spent hiding the truth from him. Leaning his head against the doorway, he listened to Tony play, letting himself sink into the music. The occasional stops and starts or muttered curses at missed keys made him smile. He could probably count on one hand the number of times that he had seen Tony acting so… normal.
The manic focus on his business or his latest work of engineering genius were so typical for him that it was easy to forget that Tony Stark was still a regular human being. Knowing that he liked to occasionally escape to a room that most of the Avengers didn't realise existed and play an instrument that Steve was willing to bet none of them knew he could play… that was reassuring. It gave Steve something he felt like he could connect with, something like his art. Well, not like his art, he smiled to himself. The closest thing to that for Tony would always be the projects he was forever working on in his lab. But similar, maybe.
His mind lost in daydreams set to the strains of Schumann and Bach and Chopin, Steve blinked when the music stopped, the silence pulling him out of his reverie. The piano bench squeaked with the movement as Tony yawned and stretched, catching sight of Steve with a startled look.
“Steve!” Mingled notes of surprise and exhaustion filled Tony's words. “How long have you been there?”
Steve wondered that himself as he stood up straight, his body protesting at the movement. He sought for a graceful way out of it, but saw no alternative. “A while,” he admitted, a little sheepishly. “I heard the piano when I came in from patrol, and… I didn’t mean to intrude,” he added, suddenly realizing that Tony might look at his listening uninvited as an invasion of his privacy. “I just… I didn’t know that you played the piano.”
Tony cocked his head to the side, studying Steve’s embarrassment, then shrugged, a smile playing on his lips. “Ten years of lessons. My mother insisted. It was just about the only thing either of my parents ever forced me to do that I enjoyed. I don’t play much anymore, though. Not a lot of time for it.”
“You’re very good,” Steve said sincerely. Tony’s expression didn’t change but something about his body language told Steve that he was embarrassed by the compliment.
“I’m okay. I’ve heard the best pianists in the world play, so I don’t have any illusions about my talents.” Tony’s voice was dry, self-deprecating, and Steve frowned.
“You’re good, Tony,” he insisted. Moving into the room, he sat on the elaborately-patterned couch close to the piano. “You should play more often.”
“I’m usually pretty busy,” Tony protested. “Between work, the lab, and the Avengers—“
Steve interrupted him. “I take time every so often just to sit and draw. Not because it’s important, in any saving-the-world kind of way, but because it’s important to me. Even just seeing you play this once, I can tell this is important to you. You should do it more often.”
Tony hesitated, obviously surprised at Steve’s vehemence. His mother insisted… and then Steve understood. From what he’d been able to gather, Tony hadn’t been close to his father. Steve suspected that the two men had been too similar to ever really understand each other. But he hardly ever talked about his mother. If the piano reminded him of her, in a way that made him smile even to mention… Steve made a mental note to ask Tony to play for him every so often. The man didn’t have nearly enough things to smile about.
“I…” Tony stopped and took a breath. “Thank you,” he said quietly. Steve smiled at him. He saw Tony’s gaze flick toward the clock on the wall, then back to the ivory keys at his side, and leaned forward.
“Play something for me,” Steve requested. Tony raised an eyebrow at him.
“You just heard me play for… what, an hour? Aren’t you tired of it by now?” His words were teasing, but Steve heard the pleased note beneath the light tone. He shook his head.
“No.” Meeting Tony’s eyes squarely, he said softly, “Please.” Tony’s eyes widened slightly, before crinkling at the corners as he smiled.
“Okay.” He turned back to the keys, his hands hovering over them for a moment in thought, then nodded, as if reaching a decision, and began to play.
It took a moment for Steve to recognize the song, and then his own eyes widened. He hadn’t expected Tony to play contemporary – well, contemporary for him, he amended his own thoughts – music, after hearing nothing but classical works earlier. But here he was, playing songs that Steve remembered from the war. Memories of dances on bases he’d been stationed at came to mind and he found himself singing quietly along.
As he realized what he was doing, he hesitated, and Tony spoke quietly. “I don’t mind. My mother used to sing with me.” After that, his faint embarrassment eased. He didn't always manage to keep in key, but close enough.
"Although some people say he's just a crazy guy,
To me he means a million other things..."
Steve couldn't keep the surprise off his face as he heard Tony join him. Tony caught the expression and grinned at him without pausing in his playing. His voice rasped around the edges of the words, lending them a sort of soulful meaning that Steve had never heard in the song before.
"But when I'm left alone and we are far apart
I sometimes wonder what tomorrow brings..."
Another exchange of looks and Steve's voice faltered as he realised abruptly what Tony was doing. As the final notes sounded, Tony's hands rested on the keys for a long moment, the silence overwhelmingly loud between them. Then he sighed softly and raised his head, looking at Steve with shadows in his eyes.
"I never meant to lie to you." Regret lined the words, and Steve felt the awkwardness threaten again.
He struggled to find words for a moment, then settled for the simple answer, meeting Tony's gaze squarely. "I know."
The wariness in Tony's eyes receded, and Steve let out a breath as something between them twisted, the ease sliding back into place between them as though it had never been gone. He smiled, then yawned, and shot an abashed look at Tony.
Tony laughed. "That settles it, then. If Captain America is yawning, it is definitely too late. Time for bed, I think." Steve raised an eyebrow at him, all too aware of Tony's usual sleepless schedule, and Tony's smile twisted. "Yes, really. I haven't slept well for the last few weeks, and my bed is calling my name tonight."
Steve heard the unspoken meaning behind the words and nodded in understanding. Tony rose to his feet, tossing his jacket over his shoulder, and Steve followed, pausing at the doorway to pick up his shield as Tony carefully closed the door behind them. They climbed the stairs side by side, comfortable silence surrounding them. Only as Tony stopped in front of his door did Steve speak.
"You'll play for me again sometime?" It was more than a statement but less than a question. Tony tilted his head, seeing Steve's smile, and his own lips curved.
"Of course."
"Good night, then."
"Good night."
As Steve turned to continue down the hallway to his room, he thought that he might just be able to sleep tonight after all.
~ fin ~
Author:
penumbrenSummary: Sometimes it's the quiet moments that a friendship needs the most.
Universe: 616
Characters: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark
Word Count: 1800
Beta: Tsukinofaerii
A/N: Thanks so much to my favourite Faerii for the beta! The song lyrics are from "He Wears a Pair of Silver Wings.".
Prompt: Tony plays a musical instrument and Steve stumbles on this fact unexpectedly
Things you'd like to see: Some musical knowledge, atmospherics, Tony unaware that Steve's watching him playing whatever the instrument is
Things you don't want: No schmoopy declarations of love.
------------------------------------------------------------------
Steve pushed open the door of the Mansion, glad to be home. His patrol had been long and boring, without the slightest hint of excitement to liven things up. Patrols had been like that a lot lately, but he still went. Spending the hours out in the city rather than in the Mansion made him less likely to brood.
Ever since their encounter with the Molecule Man a few weeks ago, he'd spent more time brooding than he cared to. He still hadn't resolved his mixed emotions about what had happened in New Jersey. He'd wanted to find out who was behind Iron Man's mask for a long time, but discovering that his best friends -- best friend -- had spent years lying to him... that was something he still didn't know how to cope with.
With a sigh, Steve resigned himself to another long night of fitful sleep. His stomach rumbled, and he changed direction, heading for the hallway leading to the kitchen instead of heading up the stairs to his room.
The quiet strains of a piano caught Steve’s attention, drawing him toward the seldom-used drawing room. The door hung slightly ajar, allowing him to hear the softly-played notes, and he pushed it open further with a cautious movement. He wasn’t aware that any of the Avengers played the piano, which made him curious as to who could be in the room, especially at the late hour. Thor was visiting his family in Asgard and Jan spent most nights at her Manhattan apartment. That left himself, Iron M–Tony, and Jarvis, and Jarvis had gone to visit his mother earlier in the day.
Frowning slightly, Steve peeked around the door into the sitting room, his eyebrows rising as he saw Tony seated in front of the piano. His hands moved with practiced ease on the keys, although the occasional discordant note and momentary pause spoke of some rustiness. He hesitated, not wanting to disturb Tony, but the opportunity to watch the man in such unguarded moment proved irresistible. Setting his shield down beside the door, Steve pushed his cowl back from his face, and settled against the doorframe so that he could listen… and watch.
Tony must have come into the room directly from another late night at work, Steve mused. His glance took in the jacket discarded carelessly across the back of the piano and the maroon dress shirt open at the collar, the sleeves rolled casually up to his elbows. His hair was rumpled and his face wore an expression of frustration familiar to Steve from too many late nights spent in the library. Memories of discussing everything from fantasy novels to current politics as they both tried to wind down flashed through Steve's mind. How many times, he wondered abruptly, had Tony worn that same expression beneath the armour? More often than he’d care to contemplate, he decided.
Steve pushed the thoughts away, ignoring the echoes of betrayal and confusion that he still felt when he thought about all the time Tony had spent hiding the truth from him. Leaning his head against the doorway, he listened to Tony play, letting himself sink into the music. The occasional stops and starts or muttered curses at missed keys made him smile. He could probably count on one hand the number of times that he had seen Tony acting so… normal.
The manic focus on his business or his latest work of engineering genius were so typical for him that it was easy to forget that Tony Stark was still a regular human being. Knowing that he liked to occasionally escape to a room that most of the Avengers didn't realise existed and play an instrument that Steve was willing to bet none of them knew he could play… that was reassuring. It gave Steve something he felt like he could connect with, something like his art. Well, not like his art, he smiled to himself. The closest thing to that for Tony would always be the projects he was forever working on in his lab. But similar, maybe.
His mind lost in daydreams set to the strains of Schumann and Bach and Chopin, Steve blinked when the music stopped, the silence pulling him out of his reverie. The piano bench squeaked with the movement as Tony yawned and stretched, catching sight of Steve with a startled look.
“Steve!” Mingled notes of surprise and exhaustion filled Tony's words. “How long have you been there?”
Steve wondered that himself as he stood up straight, his body protesting at the movement. He sought for a graceful way out of it, but saw no alternative. “A while,” he admitted, a little sheepishly. “I heard the piano when I came in from patrol, and… I didn’t mean to intrude,” he added, suddenly realizing that Tony might look at his listening uninvited as an invasion of his privacy. “I just… I didn’t know that you played the piano.”
Tony cocked his head to the side, studying Steve’s embarrassment, then shrugged, a smile playing on his lips. “Ten years of lessons. My mother insisted. It was just about the only thing either of my parents ever forced me to do that I enjoyed. I don’t play much anymore, though. Not a lot of time for it.”
“You’re very good,” Steve said sincerely. Tony’s expression didn’t change but something about his body language told Steve that he was embarrassed by the compliment.
“I’m okay. I’ve heard the best pianists in the world play, so I don’t have any illusions about my talents.” Tony’s voice was dry, self-deprecating, and Steve frowned.
“You’re good, Tony,” he insisted. Moving into the room, he sat on the elaborately-patterned couch close to the piano. “You should play more often.”
“I’m usually pretty busy,” Tony protested. “Between work, the lab, and the Avengers—“
Steve interrupted him. “I take time every so often just to sit and draw. Not because it’s important, in any saving-the-world kind of way, but because it’s important to me. Even just seeing you play this once, I can tell this is important to you. You should do it more often.”
Tony hesitated, obviously surprised at Steve’s vehemence. His mother insisted… and then Steve understood. From what he’d been able to gather, Tony hadn’t been close to his father. Steve suspected that the two men had been too similar to ever really understand each other. But he hardly ever talked about his mother. If the piano reminded him of her, in a way that made him smile even to mention… Steve made a mental note to ask Tony to play for him every so often. The man didn’t have nearly enough things to smile about.
“I…” Tony stopped and took a breath. “Thank you,” he said quietly. Steve smiled at him. He saw Tony’s gaze flick toward the clock on the wall, then back to the ivory keys at his side, and leaned forward.
“Play something for me,” Steve requested. Tony raised an eyebrow at him.
“You just heard me play for… what, an hour? Aren’t you tired of it by now?” His words were teasing, but Steve heard the pleased note beneath the light tone. He shook his head.
“No.” Meeting Tony’s eyes squarely, he said softly, “Please.” Tony’s eyes widened slightly, before crinkling at the corners as he smiled.
“Okay.” He turned back to the keys, his hands hovering over them for a moment in thought, then nodded, as if reaching a decision, and began to play.
It took a moment for Steve to recognize the song, and then his own eyes widened. He hadn’t expected Tony to play contemporary – well, contemporary for him, he amended his own thoughts – music, after hearing nothing but classical works earlier. But here he was, playing songs that Steve remembered from the war. Memories of dances on bases he’d been stationed at came to mind and he found himself singing quietly along.
As he realized what he was doing, he hesitated, and Tony spoke quietly. “I don’t mind. My mother used to sing with me.” After that, his faint embarrassment eased. He didn't always manage to keep in key, but close enough.
"Although some people say he's just a crazy guy,
To me he means a million other things..."
Steve couldn't keep the surprise off his face as he heard Tony join him. Tony caught the expression and grinned at him without pausing in his playing. His voice rasped around the edges of the words, lending them a sort of soulful meaning that Steve had never heard in the song before.
"But when I'm left alone and we are far apart
I sometimes wonder what tomorrow brings..."
Another exchange of looks and Steve's voice faltered as he realised abruptly what Tony was doing. As the final notes sounded, Tony's hands rested on the keys for a long moment, the silence overwhelmingly loud between them. Then he sighed softly and raised his head, looking at Steve with shadows in his eyes.
"I never meant to lie to you." Regret lined the words, and Steve felt the awkwardness threaten again.
He struggled to find words for a moment, then settled for the simple answer, meeting Tony's gaze squarely. "I know."
The wariness in Tony's eyes receded, and Steve let out a breath as something between them twisted, the ease sliding back into place between them as though it had never been gone. He smiled, then yawned, and shot an abashed look at Tony.
Tony laughed. "That settles it, then. If Captain America is yawning, it is definitely too late. Time for bed, I think." Steve raised an eyebrow at him, all too aware of Tony's usual sleepless schedule, and Tony's smile twisted. "Yes, really. I haven't slept well for the last few weeks, and my bed is calling my name tonight."
Steve heard the unspoken meaning behind the words and nodded in understanding. Tony rose to his feet, tossing his jacket over his shoulder, and Steve followed, pausing at the doorway to pick up his shield as Tony carefully closed the door behind them. They climbed the stairs side by side, comfortable silence surrounding them. Only as Tony stopped in front of his door did Steve speak.
"You'll play for me again sometime?" It was more than a statement but less than a question. Tony tilted his head, seeing Steve's smile, and his own lips curved.
"Of course."
"Good night, then."
"Good night."
As Steve turned to continue down the hallway to his room, he thought that he might just be able to sleep tonight after all.
~ fin ~
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