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cap_ironman2013-01-03 09:32 pm
muccamukk) wrote in cap_ironman2013-01-03 09:32 pm
Entry tags:
A Gift of Fic for silverfoxflower!
Title: We Accidentally A Relationship (2/3)
Recipient: silverfoxflower
Author/Artist: inukagome15
“This is definitely going to work. He’s been moping for two weeks now.”
“I’ve been feeling like a third wheel on their outings, so it had better work.”
“What is this third wheel you speak of? I must confess that I noticed no such thing. Anthony was most enlightening on our outing. I had not known that your world possessed such a marvelous artist such as this Revere.”
“…Revere was a silversmith. Please tell me Tony didn’t tell you he did all the art in the museum.”
“Never mind Tony’s idiocy. Natasha, did you get the tux?”
“Yes, and you owe me for it. I don’t want to be subject to those eyes again. You would think he’s never been fitted for a tuxedo before.”
“Oh good. Anyone know what we’re going to tell him about this?”
“I told him it’s a Christmas gala and let him make his own assumptions. Tony doesn’t have a date, does he?”
“He thinks he’s going with me.”
“Oh, brilliant. I can’t wait to see his face. This is going to be epic.”
“This is a very bad idea, and I still don’t know why I’m doing this.”
“Because you’re sick of seeing Tony pine over Steve Rogers’s very fine ass.”
“I have seen you ogle this ‘fine ass,’ Clinton.”
“…Shut up, Thor.”
For the record, Tony would have cheerfully murdered Pepper by now if it weren’t for the fact that she had remained carefully out of sight, well aware that she had probably pissed him off with the stunt she’d pulled. As it was, he resigned himself to muttering death threats under his breath and doing his best to make sure Steve didn’t find out before he could figure out what to say.
It was one thing to have tabloids speculating on whether you were in a relationship with a national icon. It was quite another thing to have that confirmed by the CEO of your own very well reputed company and then plastered over all the TV shows, and newscasts, mainstream or not.
At least the rest of the Avengers seemed to be on his side with that, as they kept stealing Steve’s newspapers and warding off the paparazzi. He’d never seen Bruce look so threatening while not actually being threatening…if that made any sense at all. Even JARVIS seemed to be on his side for once when it came to this, as he’d apparently hacked into Steve’s tablet and was showing nothing but LOLcats whenever Steve tried to see the news.
On the other hand, it was slightly annoying because he and Steve hadn’t been alone once since Pepper’s little announcement. Tony didn’t know whether to be upset or relieved, since he really didn’t want to talk to Steve about their relationship when anyone else was around. To be honest, he didn’t really want to talk about it at all, but he kind of had to considering what everyone thought now.
At least the gala would be somewhat less painful than usual. Tony had somehow managed to shanghai Bruce into going with him, which wasn’t quite as much fun as Rhodey, but since Pepper had already cut off that avenue it was down to Bruce. At least the two of them would be able to snicker at the idiocy of the so-called “elite” and poke fun at recent fashion trends.
Seriously, who wore polka dot ties unless you were asking for trouble?
Stifling a snicker in a sigh, Tony shifted in his spot on the cushy bench of the limo he was in. He tugged at his collar, refraining from reaching into his jacket to pull out his phone and do some tweaking on his latest armor update. Bruce was supposed to be here any minute and then they could go.
On cue, he heard the door to the limo open and someone slide in. When the door closed a few seconds later, the limo smoothly took off, leaving Tony alone with…Steve?
Steve looked slightly bemused to only see Tony there. “Tony?”
Tony didn’t immediately reply because he was struck speechless at the sight of Steve’s form fitting tuxedo. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen Steve in a tux before, but this one was really snug and showed off his absolutely incredible physique. It sort of made Tony want to rip it off him, and he had to look down at his phone to recover his lost composure, which was now vacationing in Cuba.
Pepper wouldn’t appreciate it if he ripped Steve’s tuxedo off in the limo right before they had up show up at the gala. But screw Pepper; she was the reason Tony was even in this dilemma in the first place.
When he looked up again, Tony saw Steve gazing at him with a concerned expression. He realized that he’d probably been quiet too long.
Clearing his throat to ensure that it wouldn’t come out hoarse, Tony managed to nonchalantly say, “You look good.”
While he wanted to hit himself in the head for such a ridiculously banal statement worthy of a besotted fifteen-year-old, he refrained because there really was nothing else he could say that wouldn’t send Steve running for the hills. In any case, that little compliment would help him ease into the rest of what he had to say if this was going to work.
“Thanks.” Steve flushed slightly, a sight that made Tony want to see if it went all the way down the rest of his body. “You look pretty good yourself.”
Taking several deep breaths, Tony did his best to stop himself from opening the limo door and bolting. Just because this had all the highlights of one of those hideous rom-coms Clint and Natasha had forced them to watch a few days ago did not mean anything. (Anything being the fact that the two leads always got together in the end; Tony knew he could never be that outrageously lucky.)
Steve fidgeted slightly, pulling at his tie in a way that made Tony want to either undo it all the way or fix it up. “Are the others coming, too?” he asked, squinting out the back window in a way that should not be as adorable as it was.
Forcing himself to snort so he wouldn’t seem too much like a love struck idiot, Tony floundered for a moment when the full force of Steve’s gaze was turned back to him again. Recovering quickly, he said, “I think it’s just you and me. It’s a Christmas gala for Stark Industries, not the team.”
Steve frowned slightly. “Natasha told me it was for the team…”
Oh that sly little spider…
“She lied,” Tony said bluntly. “You’re my date for this thing, though I thought it would be Bruce, but I guess he lied, too. Does he even have a tux for something like this?”
“You’re dating Bruce?”
Tony frowned. “No! I couldn’t ask Rhodey because Pepper refused to let me, and he’s usually my go-to guy for these things because we like playing with the paparazzi. Bruce was a close second, so that’s why I asked him. Now it’s you.” Not that he was complaining…
“Pepper doesn’t mind?”
“No.” And this was where it would get tricky. Fidgeting, Tony glanced outside, saw they still had a little ways to go considering traffic conditions, and turned back to Steve, unusually serious. “Okay, there’s not going to be a good way to say this. I wanted to tell you this earlier, but the others were always around.”
Just tell him, Stark.
He blurted out the rest, just barely managing to stop himself from running the words together. “They all think we’re together.”
There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?
Blinking slowly, Steve had an indiscernible expression on his face. “Didn’t they think that before?”
Tony felt like laughing and crying at Steve’s utter naïveté. Surprisingly, his voice came out even. “Yes, but Pepper confirmed it to the papers, so now it’s no longer just gossip, but the gospel truth.”
“Wait… Pepper confirmed it? I told her that we were just friends! Why would she do that?”
“I don’t know, Steve.” But he did know, and it was killing him to keep quiet about it. “I haven’t had the chance to ask her why. So…” He took a breath, smiling rather stiffly. “The thing is, this will be seen by the media as our first official public outing as a confirmed couple. Apparently our friends think it’s an absolute riot to force the issue so we’re stuck with this.” He waved a hand between them to demonstrate. “It means we’ll be expected to hold hands and do other couple-y type things. We don’t have to kiss”—though that would be simultaneously awesome and really awful—“but we would need to look fond of each other. Or in love if you can manage that.” He instantly regretted saying that, but it was a bit too late to take it back.
Steve was looking more and more uncertain as Tony rambled on. Shit. Was he being too obvious?
“You don’t have to do this, Steve,” Tony said, smiling weakly. “I can make something up to explain why I’m dateless. Hell, I can even find a way of explaining why Pepper said that.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Steve said, fingers nervously flicking the tip of his tie. “I’m…I’m fine with it.” Then he seemed to reconsider. “Well, actually…it is a bit weird.” His smile was weak. “But you’re my best friend, Tony. If you back out on this, it isn’t going to look good, is it? For you or for your company. We’ll do it.”
Tony’s heart dropped to his stomach at the same time as a small kernel of warmth ignited in his chest. It hurt that he’d never have more with Steve, but even friendship was better than nothing. But this… Playing in front of the cameras was going to hurt like hell, especially since he wouldn’t even be acting. Yet Steve would be, and Tony didn’t know how long he’d be able to handle that.
Of course, he had no clue how good an actor Steve really was, so there might not even be enough emotion there for him to continually break Tony’s heart over and over again every time they stood in front of the paparazzi.
Tony managed a smile. “Thanks, Steve.”
Steve’s response was a breathtakingly angelic smile that had Tony looking down at his hands while he fought a furious blush. Luckily, his body’s traitorous attempt to give him away had subsided by the time they arrived at their destination.
As the limo pulled to a stop, Tony glanced over to check if Steve was still ready to go. Seeing nothing to the contrary, he gave the other man a brief smile before gracefully getting out of the car as the door was opened.
Eyes assaulted by blinding white camera flashes, he turned around to give Steve a hand, receiving a raised eyebrow in return. Sighing lightly, he bent down to whisper in Steve’s ear, “Just follow my lead.”
Smiling broadly as he pulled back, Tony kept his hand firmly clasped around Steve’s as they made their way up the steps to Stark Tower.
They were accosted by shouted questions and dozens of camera flashes. Tony didn’t bat an eye, maneuvering through the crowd with all the ease of years of practice. He did slip an arm around Steve’s waist, keeping in step with the slightly taller man. His heart palpitated slightly at the heat Steve was giving off, but he kept his face carefully impassive even as he hoped he would survive the night without some sort of heart attack induced from pining.
Because Tony Stark did not pine.
When they made it to the elevator and the doors slid closed behind them, Tony stepped away from Steve with a sigh of mingled disappointment and relief. He pretended not to notice the way the other man shifted slightly in discomfort.
“I’d say it’s just for tonight,” Tony said tiredly, “but it really isn’t.”
“I know.” Steve offered him a smile he really didn’t deserve. “It’s okay, Tony. Really, it is. Just a bit weird, you know?”
No, Tony absolutely did not know. It wasn’t weird at all for him because it was what he wanted to do. And he was going to kill Pepper and his team for making him suffer like this because this was just cruel. They couldn’t even say it was in good fun since it was literally painful to have to pretend to be all lovey-dovey with Steve when that was everything he’d wanted for months.
But no problem. He was used to denying himself what he wanted (needed). This would just be another thing that he’d get to sample but never actually have.
Luckily for Tony, the elevator doors opened before he could think of a good reply. He rested a hand on the small of Steve’s back, feeling a slight flinch from the unexpected contact. Ignoring it, he pushed Steve out and in the direction of the bar. Before he did anything else, he was going to have something to drink.
“Tony,” Steve whispered disapprovingly.
“I’m going to need something to get me through this,” Tony whispered back, eyes scanning over the room. Their presence didn’t seem to have been noticed yet, which was just fine. “Trust me: they’re a horde of sharks out for blood. You’ll need something, too.”
“I can’t get drunk.”
Tony smiled blandly at him. “Then you won’t have to worry about getting drunk.” He signaled to the bartender to give them two martinis and turned to Steve while he waited on the drinks. “So, I’m curious… Did Natasha tell you anything before getting you fitted for that?” He nodded towards the should-be-illegal tux Steve was sporting.
“Not really.” Steve shrugged lightly, glancing askance at the crowded room. He looked rather uncomfortable, but Tony still found him incredibly—
“Hot,” Tony muttered, shaking his head once.
“What?” Steve looked at him, confused.
“Nothing.” Tony shot him a smile, giving the bartender a quick nod in thanks as the two martinis were pushed their way. He immediately picked his up to take a sip.
Steve didn’t touch his, although it remained by his elbow. Instead, he said slowly, “I don’t really get it.”
Tony reluctantly refrained from drinking the rest of his martini in one shot. It was not a shot glass and his aim wasn’t to get drunk tonight. That would lead to something very regrettable (like him groping Steve). “Get what?”
“I didn’t know you were interested in guys like that.”
“I’m not gay.” Tony raised an eyebrow and smirked in response to Steve’s slightly confused look. “But I’m not straight either.”
“Bisexual?”
“Sure, if you want to call it that.” Tony tapped a finger against his glass. “It’s not something I advertise, society being what it is.” He shot Steve a sidelong look. “That bother you?”
Steve shook his head a bit too sharply. “No, it doesn’t.”
Tony inclined his head, waited for Steve to elaborate, and when he didn’t decided to just let it lie. The follow-up question would have been to ask which way Steve inclined, but he didn’t think he could handle the answer. If Steve was gay, then he’d have to suffer with the knowledge that Steve didn’t want him; if he wasn’t, then Tony would be pining after someone who never could love him back; if he was bisexual, it was the same problem as Steve being gay, but he also had the added bonus that Steve could probably find a pretty woman and have the proverbial two-point-five kids, a dog, and a nice house with a white picket fence.
From across the room, Tony caught sight of Pepper in a stunning blue gown, standing by a very well-dressed Happy Hogan. Just as his eyes came up to her face, he found her looking at him, an elegant eyebrow arched.
Tilting his head to the side in a silent question, Tony took another sip of his martini. Pepper gave him an encouraging nod, mouthing something that looked a lot like “Dance with him.”
Looking away so as not to see Pepper stare at him anymore, Tony found himself staring right at Steve, who was gazing down at his martini with a very focused expression. It took all of five seconds for him to make an impulsive decision – which could either turn out very good or very bad.
“You want to dance?” he asked, affecting a nonchalant tone.
The reaction that his simple question garnered startled Tony.
Steve’s head snapped up, eyes wide. “What?”
“Do you want to dance?” Tony repeated.
“Oh…” Steve bit his lip, leading to Tony inhaling deeply to stop himself from leaning inward to do something he would probably regret. He looked down briefly before meeting Tony’s eyes. “I…I’m sorry, but I’d rather not.”
Tony blinked, perplexed. “What? Why not?”
“I’d rather not,” Steve repeated, shaking his head once. His eyes flickered to the crowded dance floor, an unreadable expression in their blue depths.
Was he nervous? Tony couldn’t tell. His face didn’t look nervous, but his body language screamed “uncomfortable.” Either way, it didn’t look like Tony was getting to dance with him. He didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved about that.
“All right.” Tony gave a brief smile. “That’s fine. In that case, I’ll just go and steal Pepper. Enjoy your drink.”
As Tony made his way through the dance floor, winding around couples, nodding hello and offering his official public smile, there was a small commotion off to the side. Ignoring it as it just seemed like a squawk of dismay rather than anything serious, he approached Pepper and Happy, giving the latter a small nod.
Smiling in response, Happy gave Pepper one last twirl before stepping away and allowing Tony to effortlessly fall into step, leading Pepper across the floor.
“Tony!” Pepper sounded shocked and rather dismayed, shooting Happy a betrayed look over Tony’s shoulder.
“Pepper.” Tony smiled fondly at her. “How are you this lovely night?”
Pepper’s answering smile was strained. “Fine. Why aren’t you with Steve?” She kept her voice low.
“He doesn’t want to dance,” Tony said dismissively, shrugging lightly as he made a slow turn with her. “So I thought I’d dance with my favorite CEO.”
“I’m your only CEO.”
“My point still stands.” Tony drew close enough to her that he could whisper into her ear, “What were you thinking?”
Pepper turned her head, her hair tickling his ear. “I was just giving you a push!”
“What made you think we needed that push?”
“You weren’t doing anything! Say what you will, but I don’t like seeing one of my best friends pine over someone he can have if he’d just get his act together!”
“I don’t pine.”
Pepper gave him a dry look. “You pine.”
“I don’t pine.” Pepper’s face was seriously making him ramble. “I never pine.”
“Then what do you call what you do? Ogling?”
“I observe.”
“You observe.”
“I observe,” Tony confirmed, meeting Pepper’s skeptical face head on. “I am an observer of fine specimens.”
Pepper’s look was so dry it could rival the heat of the Sahara Desert (or Afghanistan, but that something he’d rather not think about). “Fine. You observe. Well, we were all getting tired of your observing, so I did something about it.”
Tony pursed his lips. “I don’t think I like your tone when you say ‘observe.’ ”
Pepper rolled her eyes, choosing to ignore that. “You couldn’t keep the status quo forever, Tony. Something had to give sooner or later, and it’s better we have some control over it.”
“Is it?” Tony was dead serious. “Pepper, there was a reason I never said anything. Steve honestly doesn’t feel that way.”
“Tony…” Pepper sighed, smiling sadly. “The man spends hours with you. There is definitely something there.” Her eyes flickered up, a brief flash of panic passed over her face, and then she was talking again, grabbing Tony’s attention as he tried to see what had alarmed her. “Now go dance with him. This isn’t selling the image that you two are a couple.”
“Because we’re not.”
“Officially you are.”
It was Tony’s turn to give her a dry look. “When have I cared about that?”
“This is for your own good, Tony.”
Drawing to a stop on the edge of the dance floor closest to the bar, Tony frowned and opened his mouth, only to give a sharp hiss of pain as Pepper stepped on his foot with her very pointy heel. “Pepper!”
“There’s more where that comes from,” Pepper said, smiling charmingly and not as if she’d just stepped on Tony’s foot with a deadly heel. She turned and left him standing there desperately trying not to hobble around in pain.
After several fortifying breaths, Tony was able to walk to the bar without limping. If Pepper had been serious, she could have broken his foot. He knew the math and with that small a heel and so much force applied to it, he’d definitely have been looking at a visit to the hospital if she’d been serious. As it was, he was going to have a lovely bruise and an aching foot by the next day.
“We should dance,” Tony promptly said as he came up behind Steve, pressing against him.
To his credit, Steve didn’t flinch at Tony’s sudden arrival. “I said I’d rather not.”
He moved over to the side, still keeping himself somewhat pressed to Steve’s side. “Yes, but Pepper says we should, so we should probably do that.” Tony saw Steve hadn’t even touched his martini. “If you’re not drinking that…”
Steve pushed it away before Tony could reach for it. “Is there something else we can do?”
“We could go into a dark corner and start making out like horny teenagers”—Steve’s face was priceless—“but Pepper would kill me if I did that and so would Fury for defiling a national icon. So, dance? We don’t even have to touch.”
Steve’s brow furrowed. “How do you dance without touching?”
“Well, it’s not really dancing per se, but we could get away with it if we just stand in a corner and look shifty.”
There was an awkward silence for a moment where Tony slid back a few inches to give Steve some personal space. He looked down at his fingers, rubbing a thumb over an acid burn he’d gotten a few days ago while helping Bruce with Natasha’s Christmas present.
“It’s not you,” Steve finally said, eyes determinedly fixed on the floor. “I…I’m sorry. Dancing isn’t something I feel comfortable with.”
In other words, Steve didn’t know how to dance. And teaching him now wouldn’t be the right move at all. So Tony couldn’t press him anymore about it without seeming like an utter ass. And while he might be an ass about a lot of things, there were some things even he wouldn’t touch.
“Got it,” Tony said, smiling lightly as Steve looked up at him, surprised. “We’ll just stand here and look cool, but I’ll need a drink to do that.”
He was just about to call for a glass of wine when he heard a giggle from behind him. Turning around with an amiable smile, Tony found himself face to face with a woman in a glossy red dress. She was beaming at the two of them for some reason, eyes flickering between them and the space above their heads.
Steve didn’t seem to have noticed, attention fixated on what seemed to be Tony’s jacket. A quick throat clearing made sure that Tony got his attention. When he did, he made sure to look up with his eyes, seeing Steve imitate the motion.
Although it had been a mere guess, Tony was dismayed to find a sprig of mistletoe floating above their heads. He was going to kill whoever had released his specs for that particular design…
Ordinarily, Tony would just kiss whoever it was and then saunter off. Ordinarily it wasn’t the man he was in love with. If he could, Tony would just leave, but because of Pepper he couldn’t even do that since they were “together.” If he didn’t kiss Steve now, it would seem incredibly suspicious.
And no matter how much Tony wanted to deny it, Steve was right. His reputation (as sleazy as it was) would be dragged through the mud if his relationship with Steve turned out to be a lie (which it was, but still!). A kiss had to look genuine; it couldn’t be a chaste peck, since playboy Tony Stark wouldn’t shy away from making out in public.
Bringing a hand up to cup the side of Steve’s neck, Tony leaned in, heart rate ratcheting up as he considered what he was about to do. It would’ve been so hot if Steve didn’t look like a deer caught in the headlights.
Hoping Steve could read the apology in his eyes, Tony leaned in the final few inches, closing his eyes before bringing their lips together.
“It’s not just me when I say that this is oddly large for an air vent, right?”
“It’s Stark.”
“…Point taken.” Clint peered out of the vent grills at the party going on below them. In his hands he held a small flat remote control that he continued to play with.
Next to him, Natasha sighed, propping her chin up in her hand. “Remind me again why I’m here?”
“Bruce thought I’d mess it up,” Clint muttered, eyes narrowing as he maneuvered the floating mistletoe among the green garlands decorating the ceiling. Without Tony’s knowledge, JARVIS had given them the designs for it. Sometimes, leaving aside the fact that he was an AI who was literally everywhere, JARVIS could be seriously cool.
Natasha reached down to pull out her phone and check for any messages from their teammates. “All right. The two of them should be here soon.” She shifted again to put the phone back. “This is ridiculous. We should be doing this down there and not stuffed in a vent that Tony Stark designed for us.”
“And now it’s again my turn to remind you that Bruce said if Tony sees us down there, he’ll be even more suspicious.”
Natasha arched an eyebrow in response, giving Clint a thoroughly unimpressed look.
“And you know that,” Clint said with a soft sigh. He returned his attention to fooling around with the flying mistletoe, further familiarizing himself with the controls.
They spent the next several minutes in a comfortable silence borne of years of familiarity. It was broken when Clint leaned forward eagerly upon seeing the elevator doors open to reveal Tony and Steve. To the amateur eye, they looked completely at ease as Tony shepherded Steve out of the elevator and through the crowded floor. To Clint’s expert eye, Steve seemed uncomfortable and Tony disquieted.
“Of course,” Natasha sighed as soon as they saw Tony head for the bar.
“I don’t blame him,” Clint said thoughtfully. He glanced down at the remote control, deciding to wait a bit before using it. There was no harm in allowing the two to relax a little bit first.
Bruce had sort of sprung this on Steve and Tony.
Seeing that their targets were just chatting at the moment, Tony looking rather impassive despite being faced with the beauty of Steve Rogers in a form fitting tux. Clint had to admit that Natasha had done an excellent job there. If he didn’t know that Steve was so clearly off-limits, he would totally consider trying to tap that.
Of course, if Tony didn’t make a move soon, he might try anyway.
As his eyes scanned over the party crowd, he caught sight of two agents from S.H.I.E.L.D. milling in the shadows: Agents Blake and Sitwell. Although both were dressed in tuxedos, they utterly failed at seeming comfortable in the high-class environment that was Stark Industries’ Christmas gala. It would have been hilarious if it hadn’t been so pathetic.
Natasha saw them at the same time as Clint’s lips were curling into an utterly mischievous grin that all the Avengers had learned to fear by now. “No, Clint.”
“Come on, Nat.” Clint shot her a cheeky grin, slowly sliding his finger sideways on the remote’s screen. “It’ll liven up the party a bit.”
“It’ll attract attention.”
“They’re already party poopers. Look at them.”
Natasha didn’t say anything beyond a short huff that Clint knew was a sound of agreement.
“I’m just…gonna…” Clint maneuvered the mistletoe to hover over the two agents’ heads. “…have a little…fun.”
He caught a glimpse of Tony about to leave Steve just as he dropped the mistletoe to hover directly over the agents’ heads. Then he waited for the magic to happen.
Blake was the first to notice the mistletoe, and his mouth twisted as if he’d bitten into something particularly unpleasant, not that that was much of a difference from his usual expression. He made as if to ignore the green sprig, but Clint dropped it down even more, bringing it to the attention of Sitwell.
Now both agents were staring at the mistletoe that was hovering directly above their heads, practically daring them to ignore it.
Clint jiggled it a little, enjoying the stupefied looks plastered on their faces. Natasha exhaled, the sound filled with nothing but exasperation.
“Kiss,” Clint whispered.
“It’s not magic, Clint. They don’t have to.”
Giving Natasha a dry look, Clint tapped a finger on the screen, causing the mistletoe to start vibrating furiously. The sight was enough to get one of the other party goers – a young woman in an aquamarine backless dress – to push Blake into Sitwell so that their heads slammed into each other.
That started a small quarrel between the two agents and the woman, from which Clint’s mistletoe promptly evacuated itself because Blake was giving it the stink eye while trying to scold the young woman for her actions. Sitwell was rubbing his forehead and looking fed up.
Once the mistletoe had been put in a safe spot near the ceiling, Clint returned his attention to Tony, who was now dancing with Pepper.
“We’re going to be old and gray before anything happens between those two,” Natasha said, nodding toward Steve, who was still hovering by the bar and looking awkward because he wasn’t drinking.
“Tony will self-combust before that happens,” Clint disagreed.
“If he hasn’t self-destructed by now, it’s not going to happen.”
“Sexual frustration is an entirely different thing from actively trying to blow oneself up.”
Natasha inclined her head, conceding the point. “Still, I never would’ve expected Tony to be the mature one here.”
“I think it’s more a problem of Steve still not having adjusted to the times.” Clint bowed his head, getting a better view of the heated whispered debate between Tony and Pepper. “I don’t think he understands that it’s okay to be gay now. He probably thinks he’s completely straight, but no one who acts like that around Tony could possibly be one hundred percent straight. Tony oozes enough charm to make even the straightest man slightly gay.”
“Everyone is slightly bi,” Natasha pointed out.
“Religious fanatics would argue otherwise.”
“Religious fanatics are a bunch of assholes.”
“I’m not arguing with you about that.” Clint received a devilish smirk for that. “My point is that while two guys can definitely be friends, there’s nothing remotely platonic about what’s going on between those two. Steve might think he’s being completely honest with himself, but there’s no way there’s not something going on there.”
“Which is the point of this operation,” Natasha said, ducking down to glance up to where the mistletoe was hovering.
“Exactly.” Clint pointed the remote at her as best as he could in the confined space.
Natasha started. “Clint!”
“What?” Clint turned to look, only to see the mistletoe drop in the air as if its string had been cut. “Oh shit—”
“Give me that!” Natasha grabbed for the remote, only for Clint to pull it away to try and fix his mistake.
He hit his elbow on the side of the vent, wincing as it jarred his funny bone and his thumb jerked over the screen.
Natasha muttered a low “Thank you” under her breath in Russian. The mistletoe had jerked to a stop in midair, but was now in plain view for anyone who cared to look – like Pepper.
Clint quickly sent it back up to the ceiling before Tony could see and not a second too late, as the man glanced up to see whatever had sent Pepper into a slight panic.
“Too close, Barton,” Natasha chided, nudging his foot with her own.
“I know, Romanov.” Clint didn’t look at her, instead focusing on Tony and Pepper. Damn Stark tech…
It was two more minutes before Pepper casually stepped on Tony’s foot, which looked extremely painful given the very skinny heel that woman was wearing. Then she sauntered off back towards Hogan, leaving a visibly pained Tony behind.
“Ouch,” Clint muttered, wincing in sympathy.
“He’s had worse,” Natasha said dismissively.
Clint abandoned his retort in favor of focusing on the action that was now happening between Tony and Steve. He could hear Natasha’s breathing become quieter as well, her focus also zeroing in on their target.
Instinctively feeling that this was the best opportunity he would get, Clint began moving the mistletoe over to the two men. Tony seemed rather desperate, while Steve was either completely oblivious or callous to the other man’s state. Clint hoped it was the former; it wouldn’t say much for his spy instincts if he was completely off the mark with this.
The mistletoe slowly inched down toward them, gleaming faintly in the lights.
“I half expect Fury to show up now,” Clint breathed, eyes not moving from his target.
There was a short but pregnant pause, during which the mistletoe simply hovered in the air, but when nothing happened they both gave stifled laughs and refocused on the mission.
Now was not the time to think about Fury showing up at other, equally inopportune times whenever they were trying to play a prank on one of the agents on the Helicarrier or on another S.H.I.E.L.D. base. Say what you would about the man, but he had an eerie sort of sixth sense when it came to his agents.
It seemed like no time at all had passed before the mistletoe was finally directly above Tony’s and Steve’s heads. Neither of them noticed, both too engrossed in their conversation.
Then a young woman apparently alerted them, as Tony got Steve’s attention. Their expressions were simultaneously funny and sad to see. Tony had a deer-in-the-headlights look plastered on his face; Steve didn’t quite seem to understand what was going on.
Jeez, the man was dense.
There was interminable moment during which Clint wasn’t certain that they’d even kiss, but then Tony moved, cupping a hand on Steve’s neck and pulling the slightly taller man in. There was a short pause before they were kissing and…oh wow.
To anyone who wasn’t as experienced in spotting deception as Clint, the kiss would look like a passionate embrace between two long-time lovers. But he could see the tension in Steve’s frame and how Tony was trying just a bit too hard to make the kiss seem natural. Still, it was a credit to Tony’s acting abilities – or his history as a playboy – that it was difficult for even Clint to tell that it was a show and not genuine.
“We should probably go,” Natasha said quietly, reading the same things Clint was seeing in the scene. “Turn that off and let’s leave. Tony will know something’s up since that’s his design.”
“Right.” Clint’s fingers danced across the screen as he returned the mistletoe to the vent they were hiding in.
Natasha reached forward and slid the vent slightly open, allowing the mistletoe to float inside where she could catch it.
Turning the remote control off and slipping it inside the bag with the mistletoe, Clint waited until Natasha had scooted far enough back that he could turn around to retreat. They then began the crawl back to the original vent on the ground floor where they’d entered. Thankfully their uniforms were skintight and slippery enough that it was easy enough to slide through the confined space.
They’d just dropped down a small chute and were rounding a corner when Clint felt something bump into his butt. Startled, he almost hit his head on the top of the vent, grazing it instead when he jerked forward, bumping against Natasha’s very fine ass. Then something nailed him in the chest – Natasha’s boot.
Gasping in pain, he noted gratefully that his ribs weren’t broken. It was a warning shot; Natasha was more than capable of breaking his ribs without breaking a sweat. “Something hit me!” The “other than you” went unspoken.
Natasha didn’t question him, flipping around to see what he was talking about. There was a small electrical sizzle as her bracelets fired, and something clattered to the floor of the chute.
Still wheezing slightly, Clint craned his neck to find what looked like a small metal robot. “Does Tony keep robots in the ventilation system?”
Natasha’s reply was crisp. “No.”
“Shit.”
- Part One - Part Two - Part Three -
Recipient: silverfoxflower
Author/Artist: inukagome15
“This is definitely going to work. He’s been moping for two weeks now.”
“I’ve been feeling like a third wheel on their outings, so it had better work.”
“What is this third wheel you speak of? I must confess that I noticed no such thing. Anthony was most enlightening on our outing. I had not known that your world possessed such a marvelous artist such as this Revere.”
“…Revere was a silversmith. Please tell me Tony didn’t tell you he did all the art in the museum.”
“Never mind Tony’s idiocy. Natasha, did you get the tux?”
“Yes, and you owe me for it. I don’t want to be subject to those eyes again. You would think he’s never been fitted for a tuxedo before.”
“Oh good. Anyone know what we’re going to tell him about this?”
“I told him it’s a Christmas gala and let him make his own assumptions. Tony doesn’t have a date, does he?”
“He thinks he’s going with me.”
“Oh, brilliant. I can’t wait to see his face. This is going to be epic.”
“This is a very bad idea, and I still don’t know why I’m doing this.”
“Because you’re sick of seeing Tony pine over Steve Rogers’s very fine ass.”
“I have seen you ogle this ‘fine ass,’ Clinton.”
“…Shut up, Thor.”
For the record, Tony would have cheerfully murdered Pepper by now if it weren’t for the fact that she had remained carefully out of sight, well aware that she had probably pissed him off with the stunt she’d pulled. As it was, he resigned himself to muttering death threats under his breath and doing his best to make sure Steve didn’t find out before he could figure out what to say.
It was one thing to have tabloids speculating on whether you were in a relationship with a national icon. It was quite another thing to have that confirmed by the CEO of your own very well reputed company and then plastered over all the TV shows, and newscasts, mainstream or not.
At least the rest of the Avengers seemed to be on his side with that, as they kept stealing Steve’s newspapers and warding off the paparazzi. He’d never seen Bruce look so threatening while not actually being threatening…if that made any sense at all. Even JARVIS seemed to be on his side for once when it came to this, as he’d apparently hacked into Steve’s tablet and was showing nothing but LOLcats whenever Steve tried to see the news.
On the other hand, it was slightly annoying because he and Steve hadn’t been alone once since Pepper’s little announcement. Tony didn’t know whether to be upset or relieved, since he really didn’t want to talk to Steve about their relationship when anyone else was around. To be honest, he didn’t really want to talk about it at all, but he kind of had to considering what everyone thought now.
At least the gala would be somewhat less painful than usual. Tony had somehow managed to shanghai Bruce into going with him, which wasn’t quite as much fun as Rhodey, but since Pepper had already cut off that avenue it was down to Bruce. At least the two of them would be able to snicker at the idiocy of the so-called “elite” and poke fun at recent fashion trends.
Seriously, who wore polka dot ties unless you were asking for trouble?
Stifling a snicker in a sigh, Tony shifted in his spot on the cushy bench of the limo he was in. He tugged at his collar, refraining from reaching into his jacket to pull out his phone and do some tweaking on his latest armor update. Bruce was supposed to be here any minute and then they could go.
On cue, he heard the door to the limo open and someone slide in. When the door closed a few seconds later, the limo smoothly took off, leaving Tony alone with…Steve?
Steve looked slightly bemused to only see Tony there. “Tony?”
Tony didn’t immediately reply because he was struck speechless at the sight of Steve’s form fitting tuxedo. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen Steve in a tux before, but this one was really snug and showed off his absolutely incredible physique. It sort of made Tony want to rip it off him, and he had to look down at his phone to recover his lost composure, which was now vacationing in Cuba.
Pepper wouldn’t appreciate it if he ripped Steve’s tuxedo off in the limo right before they had up show up at the gala. But screw Pepper; she was the reason Tony was even in this dilemma in the first place.
When he looked up again, Tony saw Steve gazing at him with a concerned expression. He realized that he’d probably been quiet too long.
Clearing his throat to ensure that it wouldn’t come out hoarse, Tony managed to nonchalantly say, “You look good.”
While he wanted to hit himself in the head for such a ridiculously banal statement worthy of a besotted fifteen-year-old, he refrained because there really was nothing else he could say that wouldn’t send Steve running for the hills. In any case, that little compliment would help him ease into the rest of what he had to say if this was going to work.
“Thanks.” Steve flushed slightly, a sight that made Tony want to see if it went all the way down the rest of his body. “You look pretty good yourself.”
Taking several deep breaths, Tony did his best to stop himself from opening the limo door and bolting. Just because this had all the highlights of one of those hideous rom-coms Clint and Natasha had forced them to watch a few days ago did not mean anything. (Anything being the fact that the two leads always got together in the end; Tony knew he could never be that outrageously lucky.)
Steve fidgeted slightly, pulling at his tie in a way that made Tony want to either undo it all the way or fix it up. “Are the others coming, too?” he asked, squinting out the back window in a way that should not be as adorable as it was.
Forcing himself to snort so he wouldn’t seem too much like a love struck idiot, Tony floundered for a moment when the full force of Steve’s gaze was turned back to him again. Recovering quickly, he said, “I think it’s just you and me. It’s a Christmas gala for Stark Industries, not the team.”
Steve frowned slightly. “Natasha told me it was for the team…”
Oh that sly little spider…
“She lied,” Tony said bluntly. “You’re my date for this thing, though I thought it would be Bruce, but I guess he lied, too. Does he even have a tux for something like this?”
“You’re dating Bruce?”
Tony frowned. “No! I couldn’t ask Rhodey because Pepper refused to let me, and he’s usually my go-to guy for these things because we like playing with the paparazzi. Bruce was a close second, so that’s why I asked him. Now it’s you.” Not that he was complaining…
“Pepper doesn’t mind?”
“No.” And this was where it would get tricky. Fidgeting, Tony glanced outside, saw they still had a little ways to go considering traffic conditions, and turned back to Steve, unusually serious. “Okay, there’s not going to be a good way to say this. I wanted to tell you this earlier, but the others were always around.”
Just tell him, Stark.
He blurted out the rest, just barely managing to stop himself from running the words together. “They all think we’re together.”
There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?
Blinking slowly, Steve had an indiscernible expression on his face. “Didn’t they think that before?”
Tony felt like laughing and crying at Steve’s utter naïveté. Surprisingly, his voice came out even. “Yes, but Pepper confirmed it to the papers, so now it’s no longer just gossip, but the gospel truth.”
“Wait… Pepper confirmed it? I told her that we were just friends! Why would she do that?”
“I don’t know, Steve.” But he did know, and it was killing him to keep quiet about it. “I haven’t had the chance to ask her why. So…” He took a breath, smiling rather stiffly. “The thing is, this will be seen by the media as our first official public outing as a confirmed couple. Apparently our friends think it’s an absolute riot to force the issue so we’re stuck with this.” He waved a hand between them to demonstrate. “It means we’ll be expected to hold hands and do other couple-y type things. We don’t have to kiss”—though that would be simultaneously awesome and really awful—“but we would need to look fond of each other. Or in love if you can manage that.” He instantly regretted saying that, but it was a bit too late to take it back.
Steve was looking more and more uncertain as Tony rambled on. Shit. Was he being too obvious?
“You don’t have to do this, Steve,” Tony said, smiling weakly. “I can make something up to explain why I’m dateless. Hell, I can even find a way of explaining why Pepper said that.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Steve said, fingers nervously flicking the tip of his tie. “I’m…I’m fine with it.” Then he seemed to reconsider. “Well, actually…it is a bit weird.” His smile was weak. “But you’re my best friend, Tony. If you back out on this, it isn’t going to look good, is it? For you or for your company. We’ll do it.”
Tony’s heart dropped to his stomach at the same time as a small kernel of warmth ignited in his chest. It hurt that he’d never have more with Steve, but even friendship was better than nothing. But this… Playing in front of the cameras was going to hurt like hell, especially since he wouldn’t even be acting. Yet Steve would be, and Tony didn’t know how long he’d be able to handle that.
Of course, he had no clue how good an actor Steve really was, so there might not even be enough emotion there for him to continually break Tony’s heart over and over again every time they stood in front of the paparazzi.
Tony managed a smile. “Thanks, Steve.”
Steve’s response was a breathtakingly angelic smile that had Tony looking down at his hands while he fought a furious blush. Luckily, his body’s traitorous attempt to give him away had subsided by the time they arrived at their destination.
As the limo pulled to a stop, Tony glanced over to check if Steve was still ready to go. Seeing nothing to the contrary, he gave the other man a brief smile before gracefully getting out of the car as the door was opened.
Eyes assaulted by blinding white camera flashes, he turned around to give Steve a hand, receiving a raised eyebrow in return. Sighing lightly, he bent down to whisper in Steve’s ear, “Just follow my lead.”
Smiling broadly as he pulled back, Tony kept his hand firmly clasped around Steve’s as they made their way up the steps to Stark Tower.
They were accosted by shouted questions and dozens of camera flashes. Tony didn’t bat an eye, maneuvering through the crowd with all the ease of years of practice. He did slip an arm around Steve’s waist, keeping in step with the slightly taller man. His heart palpitated slightly at the heat Steve was giving off, but he kept his face carefully impassive even as he hoped he would survive the night without some sort of heart attack induced from pining.
Because Tony Stark did not pine.
When they made it to the elevator and the doors slid closed behind them, Tony stepped away from Steve with a sigh of mingled disappointment and relief. He pretended not to notice the way the other man shifted slightly in discomfort.
“I’d say it’s just for tonight,” Tony said tiredly, “but it really isn’t.”
“I know.” Steve offered him a smile he really didn’t deserve. “It’s okay, Tony. Really, it is. Just a bit weird, you know?”
No, Tony absolutely did not know. It wasn’t weird at all for him because it was what he wanted to do. And he was going to kill Pepper and his team for making him suffer like this because this was just cruel. They couldn’t even say it was in good fun since it was literally painful to have to pretend to be all lovey-dovey with Steve when that was everything he’d wanted for months.
But no problem. He was used to denying himself what he wanted (needed). This would just be another thing that he’d get to sample but never actually have.
Luckily for Tony, the elevator doors opened before he could think of a good reply. He rested a hand on the small of Steve’s back, feeling a slight flinch from the unexpected contact. Ignoring it, he pushed Steve out and in the direction of the bar. Before he did anything else, he was going to have something to drink.
“Tony,” Steve whispered disapprovingly.
“I’m going to need something to get me through this,” Tony whispered back, eyes scanning over the room. Their presence didn’t seem to have been noticed yet, which was just fine. “Trust me: they’re a horde of sharks out for blood. You’ll need something, too.”
“I can’t get drunk.”
Tony smiled blandly at him. “Then you won’t have to worry about getting drunk.” He signaled to the bartender to give them two martinis and turned to Steve while he waited on the drinks. “So, I’m curious… Did Natasha tell you anything before getting you fitted for that?” He nodded towards the should-be-illegal tux Steve was sporting.
“Not really.” Steve shrugged lightly, glancing askance at the crowded room. He looked rather uncomfortable, but Tony still found him incredibly—
“Hot,” Tony muttered, shaking his head once.
“What?” Steve looked at him, confused.
“Nothing.” Tony shot him a smile, giving the bartender a quick nod in thanks as the two martinis were pushed their way. He immediately picked his up to take a sip.
Steve didn’t touch his, although it remained by his elbow. Instead, he said slowly, “I don’t really get it.”
Tony reluctantly refrained from drinking the rest of his martini in one shot. It was not a shot glass and his aim wasn’t to get drunk tonight. That would lead to something very regrettable (like him groping Steve). “Get what?”
“I didn’t know you were interested in guys like that.”
“I’m not gay.” Tony raised an eyebrow and smirked in response to Steve’s slightly confused look. “But I’m not straight either.”
“Bisexual?”
“Sure, if you want to call it that.” Tony tapped a finger against his glass. “It’s not something I advertise, society being what it is.” He shot Steve a sidelong look. “That bother you?”
Steve shook his head a bit too sharply. “No, it doesn’t.”
Tony inclined his head, waited for Steve to elaborate, and when he didn’t decided to just let it lie. The follow-up question would have been to ask which way Steve inclined, but he didn’t think he could handle the answer. If Steve was gay, then he’d have to suffer with the knowledge that Steve didn’t want him; if he wasn’t, then Tony would be pining after someone who never could love him back; if he was bisexual, it was the same problem as Steve being gay, but he also had the added bonus that Steve could probably find a pretty woman and have the proverbial two-point-five kids, a dog, and a nice house with a white picket fence.
From across the room, Tony caught sight of Pepper in a stunning blue gown, standing by a very well-dressed Happy Hogan. Just as his eyes came up to her face, he found her looking at him, an elegant eyebrow arched.
Tilting his head to the side in a silent question, Tony took another sip of his martini. Pepper gave him an encouraging nod, mouthing something that looked a lot like “Dance with him.”
Looking away so as not to see Pepper stare at him anymore, Tony found himself staring right at Steve, who was gazing down at his martini with a very focused expression. It took all of five seconds for him to make an impulsive decision – which could either turn out very good or very bad.
“You want to dance?” he asked, affecting a nonchalant tone.
The reaction that his simple question garnered startled Tony.
Steve’s head snapped up, eyes wide. “What?”
“Do you want to dance?” Tony repeated.
“Oh…” Steve bit his lip, leading to Tony inhaling deeply to stop himself from leaning inward to do something he would probably regret. He looked down briefly before meeting Tony’s eyes. “I…I’m sorry, but I’d rather not.”
Tony blinked, perplexed. “What? Why not?”
“I’d rather not,” Steve repeated, shaking his head once. His eyes flickered to the crowded dance floor, an unreadable expression in their blue depths.
Was he nervous? Tony couldn’t tell. His face didn’t look nervous, but his body language screamed “uncomfortable.” Either way, it didn’t look like Tony was getting to dance with him. He didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved about that.
“All right.” Tony gave a brief smile. “That’s fine. In that case, I’ll just go and steal Pepper. Enjoy your drink.”
As Tony made his way through the dance floor, winding around couples, nodding hello and offering his official public smile, there was a small commotion off to the side. Ignoring it as it just seemed like a squawk of dismay rather than anything serious, he approached Pepper and Happy, giving the latter a small nod.
Smiling in response, Happy gave Pepper one last twirl before stepping away and allowing Tony to effortlessly fall into step, leading Pepper across the floor.
“Tony!” Pepper sounded shocked and rather dismayed, shooting Happy a betrayed look over Tony’s shoulder.
“Pepper.” Tony smiled fondly at her. “How are you this lovely night?”
Pepper’s answering smile was strained. “Fine. Why aren’t you with Steve?” She kept her voice low.
“He doesn’t want to dance,” Tony said dismissively, shrugging lightly as he made a slow turn with her. “So I thought I’d dance with my favorite CEO.”
“I’m your only CEO.”
“My point still stands.” Tony drew close enough to her that he could whisper into her ear, “What were you thinking?”
Pepper turned her head, her hair tickling his ear. “I was just giving you a push!”
“What made you think we needed that push?”
“You weren’t doing anything! Say what you will, but I don’t like seeing one of my best friends pine over someone he can have if he’d just get his act together!”
“I don’t pine.”
Pepper gave him a dry look. “You pine.”
“I don’t pine.” Pepper’s face was seriously making him ramble. “I never pine.”
“Then what do you call what you do? Ogling?”
“I observe.”
“You observe.”
“I observe,” Tony confirmed, meeting Pepper’s skeptical face head on. “I am an observer of fine specimens.”
Pepper’s look was so dry it could rival the heat of the Sahara Desert (or Afghanistan, but that something he’d rather not think about). “Fine. You observe. Well, we were all getting tired of your observing, so I did something about it.”
Tony pursed his lips. “I don’t think I like your tone when you say ‘observe.’ ”
Pepper rolled her eyes, choosing to ignore that. “You couldn’t keep the status quo forever, Tony. Something had to give sooner or later, and it’s better we have some control over it.”
“Is it?” Tony was dead serious. “Pepper, there was a reason I never said anything. Steve honestly doesn’t feel that way.”
“Tony…” Pepper sighed, smiling sadly. “The man spends hours with you. There is definitely something there.” Her eyes flickered up, a brief flash of panic passed over her face, and then she was talking again, grabbing Tony’s attention as he tried to see what had alarmed her. “Now go dance with him. This isn’t selling the image that you two are a couple.”
“Because we’re not.”
“Officially you are.”
It was Tony’s turn to give her a dry look. “When have I cared about that?”
“This is for your own good, Tony.”
Drawing to a stop on the edge of the dance floor closest to the bar, Tony frowned and opened his mouth, only to give a sharp hiss of pain as Pepper stepped on his foot with her very pointy heel. “Pepper!”
“There’s more where that comes from,” Pepper said, smiling charmingly and not as if she’d just stepped on Tony’s foot with a deadly heel. She turned and left him standing there desperately trying not to hobble around in pain.
After several fortifying breaths, Tony was able to walk to the bar without limping. If Pepper had been serious, she could have broken his foot. He knew the math and with that small a heel and so much force applied to it, he’d definitely have been looking at a visit to the hospital if she’d been serious. As it was, he was going to have a lovely bruise and an aching foot by the next day.
“We should dance,” Tony promptly said as he came up behind Steve, pressing against him.
To his credit, Steve didn’t flinch at Tony’s sudden arrival. “I said I’d rather not.”
He moved over to the side, still keeping himself somewhat pressed to Steve’s side. “Yes, but Pepper says we should, so we should probably do that.” Tony saw Steve hadn’t even touched his martini. “If you’re not drinking that…”
Steve pushed it away before Tony could reach for it. “Is there something else we can do?”
“We could go into a dark corner and start making out like horny teenagers”—Steve’s face was priceless—“but Pepper would kill me if I did that and so would Fury for defiling a national icon. So, dance? We don’t even have to touch.”
Steve’s brow furrowed. “How do you dance without touching?”
“Well, it’s not really dancing per se, but we could get away with it if we just stand in a corner and look shifty.”
There was an awkward silence for a moment where Tony slid back a few inches to give Steve some personal space. He looked down at his fingers, rubbing a thumb over an acid burn he’d gotten a few days ago while helping Bruce with Natasha’s Christmas present.
“It’s not you,” Steve finally said, eyes determinedly fixed on the floor. “I…I’m sorry. Dancing isn’t something I feel comfortable with.”
In other words, Steve didn’t know how to dance. And teaching him now wouldn’t be the right move at all. So Tony couldn’t press him anymore about it without seeming like an utter ass. And while he might be an ass about a lot of things, there were some things even he wouldn’t touch.
“Got it,” Tony said, smiling lightly as Steve looked up at him, surprised. “We’ll just stand here and look cool, but I’ll need a drink to do that.”
He was just about to call for a glass of wine when he heard a giggle from behind him. Turning around with an amiable smile, Tony found himself face to face with a woman in a glossy red dress. She was beaming at the two of them for some reason, eyes flickering between them and the space above their heads.
Steve didn’t seem to have noticed, attention fixated on what seemed to be Tony’s jacket. A quick throat clearing made sure that Tony got his attention. When he did, he made sure to look up with his eyes, seeing Steve imitate the motion.
Although it had been a mere guess, Tony was dismayed to find a sprig of mistletoe floating above their heads. He was going to kill whoever had released his specs for that particular design…
Ordinarily, Tony would just kiss whoever it was and then saunter off. Ordinarily it wasn’t the man he was in love with. If he could, Tony would just leave, but because of Pepper he couldn’t even do that since they were “together.” If he didn’t kiss Steve now, it would seem incredibly suspicious.
And no matter how much Tony wanted to deny it, Steve was right. His reputation (as sleazy as it was) would be dragged through the mud if his relationship with Steve turned out to be a lie (which it was, but still!). A kiss had to look genuine; it couldn’t be a chaste peck, since playboy Tony Stark wouldn’t shy away from making out in public.
Bringing a hand up to cup the side of Steve’s neck, Tony leaned in, heart rate ratcheting up as he considered what he was about to do. It would’ve been so hot if Steve didn’t look like a deer caught in the headlights.
Hoping Steve could read the apology in his eyes, Tony leaned in the final few inches, closing his eyes before bringing their lips together.
“It’s not just me when I say that this is oddly large for an air vent, right?”
“It’s Stark.”
“…Point taken.” Clint peered out of the vent grills at the party going on below them. In his hands he held a small flat remote control that he continued to play with.
Next to him, Natasha sighed, propping her chin up in her hand. “Remind me again why I’m here?”
“Bruce thought I’d mess it up,” Clint muttered, eyes narrowing as he maneuvered the floating mistletoe among the green garlands decorating the ceiling. Without Tony’s knowledge, JARVIS had given them the designs for it. Sometimes, leaving aside the fact that he was an AI who was literally everywhere, JARVIS could be seriously cool.
Natasha reached down to pull out her phone and check for any messages from their teammates. “All right. The two of them should be here soon.” She shifted again to put the phone back. “This is ridiculous. We should be doing this down there and not stuffed in a vent that Tony Stark designed for us.”
“And now it’s again my turn to remind you that Bruce said if Tony sees us down there, he’ll be even more suspicious.”
Natasha arched an eyebrow in response, giving Clint a thoroughly unimpressed look.
“And you know that,” Clint said with a soft sigh. He returned his attention to fooling around with the flying mistletoe, further familiarizing himself with the controls.
They spent the next several minutes in a comfortable silence borne of years of familiarity. It was broken when Clint leaned forward eagerly upon seeing the elevator doors open to reveal Tony and Steve. To the amateur eye, they looked completely at ease as Tony shepherded Steve out of the elevator and through the crowded floor. To Clint’s expert eye, Steve seemed uncomfortable and Tony disquieted.
“Of course,” Natasha sighed as soon as they saw Tony head for the bar.
“I don’t blame him,” Clint said thoughtfully. He glanced down at the remote control, deciding to wait a bit before using it. There was no harm in allowing the two to relax a little bit first.
Bruce had sort of sprung this on Steve and Tony.
Seeing that their targets were just chatting at the moment, Tony looking rather impassive despite being faced with the beauty of Steve Rogers in a form fitting tux. Clint had to admit that Natasha had done an excellent job there. If he didn’t know that Steve was so clearly off-limits, he would totally consider trying to tap that.
Of course, if Tony didn’t make a move soon, he might try anyway.
As his eyes scanned over the party crowd, he caught sight of two agents from S.H.I.E.L.D. milling in the shadows: Agents Blake and Sitwell. Although both were dressed in tuxedos, they utterly failed at seeming comfortable in the high-class environment that was Stark Industries’ Christmas gala. It would have been hilarious if it hadn’t been so pathetic.
Natasha saw them at the same time as Clint’s lips were curling into an utterly mischievous grin that all the Avengers had learned to fear by now. “No, Clint.”
“Come on, Nat.” Clint shot her a cheeky grin, slowly sliding his finger sideways on the remote’s screen. “It’ll liven up the party a bit.”
“It’ll attract attention.”
“They’re already party poopers. Look at them.”
Natasha didn’t say anything beyond a short huff that Clint knew was a sound of agreement.
“I’m just…gonna…” Clint maneuvered the mistletoe to hover over the two agents’ heads. “…have a little…fun.”
He caught a glimpse of Tony about to leave Steve just as he dropped the mistletoe to hover directly over the agents’ heads. Then he waited for the magic to happen.
Blake was the first to notice the mistletoe, and his mouth twisted as if he’d bitten into something particularly unpleasant, not that that was much of a difference from his usual expression. He made as if to ignore the green sprig, but Clint dropped it down even more, bringing it to the attention of Sitwell.
Now both agents were staring at the mistletoe that was hovering directly above their heads, practically daring them to ignore it.
Clint jiggled it a little, enjoying the stupefied looks plastered on their faces. Natasha exhaled, the sound filled with nothing but exasperation.
“Kiss,” Clint whispered.
“It’s not magic, Clint. They don’t have to.”
Giving Natasha a dry look, Clint tapped a finger on the screen, causing the mistletoe to start vibrating furiously. The sight was enough to get one of the other party goers – a young woman in an aquamarine backless dress – to push Blake into Sitwell so that their heads slammed into each other.
That started a small quarrel between the two agents and the woman, from which Clint’s mistletoe promptly evacuated itself because Blake was giving it the stink eye while trying to scold the young woman for her actions. Sitwell was rubbing his forehead and looking fed up.
Once the mistletoe had been put in a safe spot near the ceiling, Clint returned his attention to Tony, who was now dancing with Pepper.
“We’re going to be old and gray before anything happens between those two,” Natasha said, nodding toward Steve, who was still hovering by the bar and looking awkward because he wasn’t drinking.
“Tony will self-combust before that happens,” Clint disagreed.
“If he hasn’t self-destructed by now, it’s not going to happen.”
“Sexual frustration is an entirely different thing from actively trying to blow oneself up.”
Natasha inclined her head, conceding the point. “Still, I never would’ve expected Tony to be the mature one here.”
“I think it’s more a problem of Steve still not having adjusted to the times.” Clint bowed his head, getting a better view of the heated whispered debate between Tony and Pepper. “I don’t think he understands that it’s okay to be gay now. He probably thinks he’s completely straight, but no one who acts like that around Tony could possibly be one hundred percent straight. Tony oozes enough charm to make even the straightest man slightly gay.”
“Everyone is slightly bi,” Natasha pointed out.
“Religious fanatics would argue otherwise.”
“Religious fanatics are a bunch of assholes.”
“I’m not arguing with you about that.” Clint received a devilish smirk for that. “My point is that while two guys can definitely be friends, there’s nothing remotely platonic about what’s going on between those two. Steve might think he’s being completely honest with himself, but there’s no way there’s not something going on there.”
“Which is the point of this operation,” Natasha said, ducking down to glance up to where the mistletoe was hovering.
“Exactly.” Clint pointed the remote at her as best as he could in the confined space.
Natasha started. “Clint!”
“What?” Clint turned to look, only to see the mistletoe drop in the air as if its string had been cut. “Oh shit—”
“Give me that!” Natasha grabbed for the remote, only for Clint to pull it away to try and fix his mistake.
He hit his elbow on the side of the vent, wincing as it jarred his funny bone and his thumb jerked over the screen.
Natasha muttered a low “Thank you” under her breath in Russian. The mistletoe had jerked to a stop in midair, but was now in plain view for anyone who cared to look – like Pepper.
Clint quickly sent it back up to the ceiling before Tony could see and not a second too late, as the man glanced up to see whatever had sent Pepper into a slight panic.
“Too close, Barton,” Natasha chided, nudging his foot with her own.
“I know, Romanov.” Clint didn’t look at her, instead focusing on Tony and Pepper. Damn Stark tech…
It was two more minutes before Pepper casually stepped on Tony’s foot, which looked extremely painful given the very skinny heel that woman was wearing. Then she sauntered off back towards Hogan, leaving a visibly pained Tony behind.
“Ouch,” Clint muttered, wincing in sympathy.
“He’s had worse,” Natasha said dismissively.
Clint abandoned his retort in favor of focusing on the action that was now happening between Tony and Steve. He could hear Natasha’s breathing become quieter as well, her focus also zeroing in on their target.
Instinctively feeling that this was the best opportunity he would get, Clint began moving the mistletoe over to the two men. Tony seemed rather desperate, while Steve was either completely oblivious or callous to the other man’s state. Clint hoped it was the former; it wouldn’t say much for his spy instincts if he was completely off the mark with this.
The mistletoe slowly inched down toward them, gleaming faintly in the lights.
“I half expect Fury to show up now,” Clint breathed, eyes not moving from his target.
There was a short but pregnant pause, during which the mistletoe simply hovered in the air, but when nothing happened they both gave stifled laughs and refocused on the mission.
Now was not the time to think about Fury showing up at other, equally inopportune times whenever they were trying to play a prank on one of the agents on the Helicarrier or on another S.H.I.E.L.D. base. Say what you would about the man, but he had an eerie sort of sixth sense when it came to his agents.
It seemed like no time at all had passed before the mistletoe was finally directly above Tony’s and Steve’s heads. Neither of them noticed, both too engrossed in their conversation.
Then a young woman apparently alerted them, as Tony got Steve’s attention. Their expressions were simultaneously funny and sad to see. Tony had a deer-in-the-headlights look plastered on his face; Steve didn’t quite seem to understand what was going on.
Jeez, the man was dense.
There was interminable moment during which Clint wasn’t certain that they’d even kiss, but then Tony moved, cupping a hand on Steve’s neck and pulling the slightly taller man in. There was a short pause before they were kissing and…oh wow.
To anyone who wasn’t as experienced in spotting deception as Clint, the kiss would look like a passionate embrace between two long-time lovers. But he could see the tension in Steve’s frame and how Tony was trying just a bit too hard to make the kiss seem natural. Still, it was a credit to Tony’s acting abilities – or his history as a playboy – that it was difficult for even Clint to tell that it was a show and not genuine.
“We should probably go,” Natasha said quietly, reading the same things Clint was seeing in the scene. “Turn that off and let’s leave. Tony will know something’s up since that’s his design.”
“Right.” Clint’s fingers danced across the screen as he returned the mistletoe to the vent they were hiding in.
Natasha reached forward and slid the vent slightly open, allowing the mistletoe to float inside where she could catch it.
Turning the remote control off and slipping it inside the bag with the mistletoe, Clint waited until Natasha had scooted far enough back that he could turn around to retreat. They then began the crawl back to the original vent on the ground floor where they’d entered. Thankfully their uniforms were skintight and slippery enough that it was easy enough to slide through the confined space.
They’d just dropped down a small chute and were rounding a corner when Clint felt something bump into his butt. Startled, he almost hit his head on the top of the vent, grazing it instead when he jerked forward, bumping against Natasha’s very fine ass. Then something nailed him in the chest – Natasha’s boot.
Gasping in pain, he noted gratefully that his ribs weren’t broken. It was a warning shot; Natasha was more than capable of breaking his ribs without breaking a sweat. “Something hit me!” The “other than you” went unspoken.
Natasha didn’t question him, flipping around to see what he was talking about. There was a small electrical sizzle as her bracelets fired, and something clattered to the floor of the chute.
Still wheezing slightly, Clint craned his neck to find what looked like a small metal robot. “Does Tony keep robots in the ventilation system?”
Natasha’s reply was crisp. “No.”
“Shit.”
- Part One - Part Two - Part Three -