Work Text:
Tony Stark hated Hydra. Even beyond the whole 'science-magic fusion megalomaniacs out to rule the fucking world' thing. Which was more than enough cause, but, depressingly enough, that description fit a good half of the menaces the Avengers specialized in. No, the reason Tony hate, hate, hated every last member was because they considered Captain America their arch enemy.
It didn't matter to them that every single member of Hydra who had faced off against Cap and his Howling Commandos was either in the 'Annoying Villains Retirement Home' or long dead. No, Cap had thwarted them back in the beginning when the Red Skull had run things (and still did from time to time – dead just didn't mean what most people thought it did when things got into the whole science-magic fusion shit) so Hydra had 'I hate Captain America' bumper stickers on all their tanks and company cars. (Seriously, they did, except the 'hate' part was a heart with the 'no' symbol across it.)
All of this meant whenever the Avengers were called out to fight them, Hydra went after Cap like rabid dogs after steak. Not pretty. Tony had even gone so far as to ask/beg/demand Cap sit those encounters out. Well, he had once. Cap had glared at him with frosty disapproval then said something unfair like 'the Mandarin' as if one megalomaniac out to get Tony equaled the frenzy of a whole organization after one shapely ass. And Tony meant ass in oh, so many ways.
Hey, he got Cap was in charge and none too fond of Tony, but Iron Man was second-in-command so his opinion should count for something, but nooooooo. And if he had a split-second thought of 'serves him right' when some orange beam struck Cap, he didn't think he could be blamed, except, he was really too busy 1) destroying the weird looking gun it had come from before it could take out Thor and 2) scream – making a manly sound of concern for his fallen comrade to notice if he'd had his perfectly reasonable, utterly justifiable moment.
He landed next to Cap ready to defend his unconscious ass from all predators, but Hydra had taken a collective powder which meant this whole damned attack had been to lure Cap out and zap him. "Damnit," he snarled, dropping down onto one armored knee, "next time I'll zap you myself."
There were strict field protocols about when Tony could or could not lift the face plate of his armor – mostly established by the red-white-and-blue jackass sprawled on the pavement and Tony had done just fine on deciding the when and when-nots on his own before Captain Knows-Best showed up. He was about to say 'fuck it and the donkey they rode in on' to all of them when Rogers stirred. "You okay, Cap?"
Rogers frowned. It was sort of his default expression whenever Tony was around. "Not Iron Man. Tony!"
Huh? That didn't sound like Captain Use Your Verbs and … was he pouting?
The lip that looked like it was jutted out began to tremble, and the blue eyes framed by his cowl began to fill with tears. "Want Tony!"
Ooookay. This was different, but God forbid Coulson find out Tony had made Cap cry. The sadist would make Tony fill out paperwork for weeks! The mental image of stacks of paper taller than Thor filling him with horror, Tony retracted his entire helmet. "That better?" he asked.
The pending waterworks eased off, but Rogers sat up and tugged at the chest plate. "Want Tony!"
All narcissism aside (which was setting a lot aside) Tony actually had a level of self-esteem lower than a snail's belly, but he wasn't overtly suicidal. It made him less than anxious to give into all tugging and remove more of his armor without an official all-clear since it had been less than two minutes since Rogers had gotten shot.
Natasha Romanoff running up gave him an excuse to stand back up, the servos of his suit easily compensating for the fact Cap hadn't let go and had come along for 'the ride.' Ummm.
As much as she ever did, Nat sort of gaped which to any non-Avenger would look like a barely imperceptible alteration of her usual stare. "Is he all right?"
Tony's expression of 'you're kidding me, right?' was far less mysteriously vague. Cap helpfully emphasized the dumbness of the question, by tugging harder and practically wailing, "Want Tony!"
He grunted. Bastard was putting some of his super-serum strength into it and without the armor compensating, they'd have both gone sprawling. "You need to stop doing that, Cap," he said in his best 'firm, but gentle for their obviously lost it leader's sake' voice. And fuck his life anyway that he even had that sort of voice.
Obviously not impressed, Cap scowled and tugged harder at the same moment Thor came in for a landing. It must have alarmed their resident Norse god, because he reached out and deftly plucked Rogers off of Tony. Had to love godly strength, but, "Umm, bad call," Tony started to point out, especially the whole 'setting him down instead of hanging on' part.
"Want Tony!" Rogers howled, snatching up his shield and letting it fly. Thing hit Thor square in the chest and knocked him on his divine ass – pun intended. What? Tony had eyes. He also had his Captain America fashion accessory back. "Want Tony!"
Cap's face was red, his scowl a near force of nature, and his tugging was getting harder to compensate for. Worse, a pissed-off-looking Thor was getting to his feet; Clint Barton and a currently de-Hulked Bruce Banner were running up; and if Tony didn't do something quickly, this was going to turn into the sort of Avenger vs. Avenger brawl that led to city-level damage and tons of paperwork. Tony really, really hated paperwork so he made an executive decision and said, "JARVIS emergency release."
The armor fell free, Cap did a credible imitation of Thor's recent trip to the sidewalk and Tony ended up standing there in nothing but his jeans and an AC/DC t-shirt. He hadn't even had time to put on a pair of shoes or socks before he'd needed to suit up, leaving him barefoot on a New York street and ugh.
"Tony!" Steve sort of, kind of, okay, he flat out squealed, leaping to his feet and grabbing Tony up into a big hug.
The others cried out in alarm given Cap had enough strength to shatter Tony's ribs without much effort, but, "He's not hurting me." Had a definite 'not letting go ever' sort of vibe going on, but the hug was firm, yet not in the least bit uncomfortable. Well, except for the part where he'd pulled Tony up and in, so his stupid bare feet were dangling a couple of inches off the ground. "Cap, you going to put me down?"
"Nope! Tony," he … cooed.
Tony huffed, wiggled around to adjust his position so it wasn't all groin-to-groin action, then lifted his legs up to encircle Rogers' hips and locked his ankles together. Apparently assured by this 'settling in to stay' maneuver, Cap relented enough for Tony to get his arms up and around star-spangled shoulders. It all left him looking a lot like a toddler settled on his daddy's hip, but as long as there wasn't any paperwork, he could deal.
Didn't mean he spared any heat in the glare he fixed on his other teammates who were all starting to look far too amused for their own good. "Gather up my armor and whatever remains you can find of that ray gun they used on him. Get it to my workshop and I'll see what I can do about fixing this."
"Tony smart." More cooing and Clint lost it, laughing so hard he all but collapsed. Even Nat was grinning and that was on Tony's list of 'run for the hills the Apocalypse is here' signs.
Fuck. "Rogers-"
Cap's face crumbled and his lip trembled again. "Steve loves Tony. Tony no loves Steve?"
What? "This is so not fair!" he snapped as the others' expressions also did a fast morph – to anger. Like he'd kicked a puppy or something. "He's the one who was all 'Stark' this and –"
Nat glared and Tony shivered, sort of hugging closer in his quest to avoid the scary, scary lady with knives. Fine, he decided and grated out, "Tony loves Steve."
"You do?" Steve sniffed.
Somebody shoot him now. Where was Doom when he needed him? "Lots and lots, okay?"
"Tony loves Steve!" And he was back to the squealing again. Loudly. Shit. Seriously, was a world-wide invasion or something too much to ask?
There were camera phones trained on this. Not all of them belonging to Avengers now that the crisis was over. Just what Tony had wanted for Christmas – a video of a zapped-Cap hugging him going viral on YouTube. He hated his life. "Steve take Tony home now?" Pretty fucking please.
Ro – no, Steve, despite all prior super-soldier efforts to keep things on a last name basis, he had to start thinking of him as Steve or risk a verbal slip and another 'kicked puppy' episode – grinned, then shot off down the street toward the Tower.
Tony yelped and held on tighter, but Steve's gait was smooth and his grip on Tony firm enough he wasn't even really jostling him. Felt kind of … safe. Not a typical descriptor of Tony's life. Sort of … Oh, no, not going there. Bad enough he had a crush on Captain Uptight, he was not, not, not allowing warm, fuzzy feelings, too!
Steve carried him into the Tower lobby, then elevator. "Workshop, JARVIS," Tony said, and his 'transportation' immediately sulked. "What?"
"Tony no play with Steve in shop."
Oh, for the love of … He really, really wanted to launch into a rant about what he did being important, but caught himself before a single word escaped. To use Steve-speak, sulking bad, want happy Steve. For this sort of karmic backlash, Tony damned well better have been Caligula or Stalin or someone worse in a prior life. "Tony could sit on Steve's lap?"
Steve brightened and found a way to snuggle him closer. It lead to an afternoon of Steve happily playing seat cushion for Tony, Steve's arms always encircling him, his chest a firm pressure against Tony's back. Should have been uncomfortable, but as he worked, Tony's body protested far less than normal. Of course, the embarrassment factor when the others checked up on them throughout the day might kill him. Especially since Steve hauled him around whenever he wanted munchies or a drink. He was beginning to relate far too much to those toy dogs celebrities carried like purses.
Between JARVIS' scans and what Tony could reconstruct of the weapon, the results were … bizarre. And, God help him, had to be reported back to SHIELD. "A toddler?" If anyone but Nick Fury had been on the other end of the video conference call, Tony would have called that a shriek, but directors of SHIELD never shrieked – too many hidden weapons – so he decided to label it a soft, high-pitched bellow. "Captain America is mentally a toddler?"
Tony decided to ignore Nat's mutter about Steve and Tony finally being emotional age-mates, and said, "Or a caveman. Depends on what cartoon you're watching."
"And he's decided happiness is cuddling with you?"
He sighed, trying not to squirm in Steve's lap. "Apparently."
Clint sniggered, something he also ignored – the board of directors of Stark Industries had given Tony a lot of practice with ignoring idiots during meetings.
Fury smirked. "So does that make you his Teddy Tony or his Tony Bear?"
He made an indignant sound that Steve apparently decided was distress because he hugged Tony closer. "Bad man not hurt Tony!"
Tony resisted the urge … oh, fuck it, he stuck his tongue out at Fury. And sweet, all Fury could do was hold his hands up in surrender because no one wanted CaveCap on the war path. "Sorry, Cap, wouldn't dream of it."
Talk about a lying liar who lies, Tony figured Fury counted ways to off-Tony instead of sheep at night, but didn't call him on it since Fury asked a darned good question next, "And why would Hydra invent a cuddle ray?"
"I've been thinking about that," Bruce said. His areas had a stronger bio-expertise than Tony's so even Tony was all ears. "In essence what the ray did was give Steve's id free reign so he had no compulsion against doing whatever he wants. I'm reasonably certain they thought he'd go on some sort of destructive crime spree and ruin both his and the Avengers' reputations."
That sounded like one of Hydras' lame schemes – common whenever the Red Skull was dead again. Honestly, it was enough to make a guy wish for bonehead to make a speedy recovery. Almost.
"Tony, how did they get Cap to lower his guard enough to shoot him?"
"They all fired at me." Every last one of them, like he'd been the target, leaving Cap vulnerable when he tried to help instead of defending himself. And oh. "So the last thing he saw before it hit was me in trouble."
Bruce nodded. "It's consistent with his desperation to get you out of the suit. He needed to make certain you weren't hurt."
And every last person on this and the other side of the call knew Tony was the most vulnerable Avenger outside of his suit. Technically, he and Bruce should be on equal footing there, but the Hulk was part of Bruce while Tony couldn't always get to the armor. So yes, Steve's last memory being Tony in danger easily fit the cuddling into place. It was reassurance he'd not lost another soldier, not because Tony was special to him.
Tony had known the answer had to be something like that. Rogers hated him or at least didn't like him. And in that light the aftermath of this was probably going to be ugly as fuck. Maybe 'one of us has to go' ugly, and no one, not even Tony, would be dumb enough to pick him over Captain America. His gaze dropped and he felt cold despite the warmth of the body holding him. Or because of it. "Good news is that JARVIS thinks the effects are temporary." The right words, but his voice sounded flat and Steve hugged him. Made his eyes sting. How could he have been stupid enough to get attached to this so quickly?
"Tony sad?"
'Killing me here, big guy.' "No, just tired," he answered, giving the nearest piece of Steve's arm a pat.
He yelped in surprise when Steve stood suddenly, even though his hold on Tony never faltered. Carrying Tony like a bride, he announced, "Tony bed," and hurried out of the room. Bed? Oh, fuck.
The awkwardness of the next few minutes helped Tony brace himself for a fond fantasy turning into a nightmare. Good thing because Steve refused to let go, keeping at least one hand firmly on Tony while they got ready for bed, but he at least looked away during toilet time. A sign he was getting better and one Tony found both reassuring and heartbreaking.
He supposed he should be alarmed when Steve carried him over to the bed, but he wasn't. This whole fucking day had been about making certain Tony was safe, not about Tony being special or someone Ste- Rogers wanted or even liked. True to that expectation, Steve cuddled Tony close, then settled into sleep.
Tony pretended to do the same, but long after Rogers' breathing evened out, he found himself awake and watching. There'd been no way to project timeframes beyond not permanent, not long-lasting, but his guess was no more than 24 hours. Any longer and Hydra would have risked the Avengers or SHIELD managing to point CaveCap at them, and the idea of Cap in a rage with no inner moral fiber to hold all his strength and skill at bay was truly terrifying. Even a full day was pushing it, so it didn't surprise him when almost eight hours to the second after being zapped it wore off.
Of course, Steve was still asleep, but while people talked about adults sleeping like a baby, there was a difference. Or maybe it was Steve shifting and rolling over so his back was to Tony, letting go of him for the first time since Tony had shed the armor. In any case, it was all over.
Nothing less than his absolute certainty that he did not, could not, deal with Steve waking up at that moment, allowed Tony to slip out of the bed, then the room without a sound or a fast movement to disturb him. Regretting he hadn't been able to talk Steve into sleeping in his own room instead of Tony's – 'Tony need Tony bed, not Steve bed' – he headed for his workshop. Steve would be all the more embarrassed at waking up in Tony's room, adding another level of awful for the tower of ugly scheduled to collapse in the morning.
He sat down in a chair he would have called comfortable before Steve-cushion and stared at the far wall. He didn't cry. Hadn't since the day his father had hit him when Tony was a child during the last time he'd ever come home from boarding school. After that he'd either stayed at the school or with friends – otherwise known as people eager to have a Stark owe them one. So no, he didn't cry, but his eyes stung and his chest felt tight enough he rubbed the spot above the reactor more than once.
If he'd had the energy to move, he would have called Rhodey despite the hour and told him War Machine would have to take Iron Man's slot in the Avengers. Or he would have called Pepper and told her New York wasn't working for him so he was moving back to the Malibu estate. Or he would have armored up and flown to California so he never had to deal face-to-face with the morning after. But he didn't, so he sat there all night and tried to pretend he couldn't feel the ghost of Steve's warmth around him or the scent of his body dancing among the sizzle of ozone and the smell of oil.
He lost track, but he knew hours had passed before a voice he both longed for and dreaded interrupted his solitude. "Tony." Steve, but he'd said 'Tony,' not 'Stark,' so he remembered.
"I'll fix it," he promised. "I'll hold a press conference." JARVIS had played some of the footage from the news cycle for him. Pundits from all sides of gay issues were filling the airwaves with the video and their opinions. Tony hated that he'd have to disappoint everyone seeing a relationship between Captain America and Iron Man as a positive move forward, but he couldn't let a video taken out of context stand for anything but Hydra trying to destroy lives. He'd do what he could though. He'd admit he was bisexual – something he'd put off doing for far too long – but was anyone seriously dumb enough to believe Cap would ever want him? "I'll take a leave of absence until things calm down." Code for resigning. "You can keep the Tower." He forced a smile he hoped looked better than it felt, and turned toward Steve.
Cap was so pale Tony was out of his seat and across the room before he remembered he didn't have the right to touch him, remembered how little had changed since the time he'd tried and Steve had batted his hand away. He froze, his hands hovering less than an inch above the shoulders he'd clutched less than a day before.
Steve made a sound – something of anguish and relief and want – and pulled Tony in against his chest. It was then Tony realized they were both trembling. "I told myself over and over all the discomfort I felt around you was dislike, that I couldn't feel what my dreams whispered so soon after I lost Peggy," he said into Tony's hair. "Then I heard myself saying I wanted you that I loved you and … God, Tony, forgive me."
His arms tightened into that same impossibly strong, yet gentle hug that had been Tony's reality for eight hours. Tony shifted, wrapping his arms and legs around the man, settling into his 'usual spot.' "I love you," he whispered into the nearest ear. "Terrifies me how much." So he'd done his own version of denial, feeding into Steve's desire to feign dislike and dismissing lingering doubts as a crush.
He felt Steve walking, heard the whoosh of elevator doors and the car rising, but he kept his face buried in Steve's neck too afraid to look up for fear he'd fallen asleep in the workshop and this was all a dream. More whooshing, more walking, then as he had last night, Steve lowered them both down into Tony's bed. It might have increased the fear, but Steve said something then so stupidly Steve not even Tony could have dreamed it up. "You took off your armor. I could have hurt you, could have raped you right there on the street."
"You would never hurt me." There was a certain stupidity to that as well. He'd heard Bruce and understood all the higher functions of morality had left the building when Steve had been zapped. No reason at all for him not to have taken what or who he wanted without remorse. But no, never going to happen.
"How can you be so sure?"
The stricken look on his face made Tony think it through. How had he known? It flew in the face of all logic, but then love did. And there was his answer. Id gone nuts or not, Steve would never have hurt him because … "You didn't just want me. You wanted me to love you and even all-id crazed, you knew hurting me wasn't the way to get that." His own sub-conscious had known that simple truth while his higher brain was busy raging about how much Steve hated him. "Even with me plastered against you for hours, you never let yourself get hard."
Not true now. An impressive length jutted up to press against Tony's hip, and he found himself shifting to get Steve between his legs. It earned him a kiss, slow, but deep and long. And God, the taste of the man made his head spin. Never a patient person, Tony groaned loudly and arched up against Steve. And yes, they'd all been very lucky indeed it had been Steve hit by that ray instead of him.
Steve got them out of their clothes with impressive speed, but settled back into the cradle of Tony's legs for more lazy kisses and a maddening lack of friction. Tony whined in protest, when that didn't work he found his words. "Eight hours, damnit! Eight hours of foreplay is-"
A kiss shut him up and by the time Steve's tongue withdrew from his mouth, the clever man was routing around in the bedside drawer for lube. No condoms. JARVIS monitored all the Avengers on a cellular level so they knew they were all clean. Never been so glad of a good bill of health before since Tony didn't think he could stand anything between Steve's flesh and his own. "Hurry up," he moaned when only one finger broached him.
A smile answered him. "I'm the guy who's not going to hurt you, remember?"
Tony scowled, but a second finger slipped inside and oh, yes, that was good. The third was even better and he wrapped his legs around Steve's torso, tilting his pelvis up as the fingers slipped out.
Another kiss then finally Steve began a slow tortuous slide into his body. Tony had to grab at the base of his own cock to keep from coming from the entrance alone. Shouldn't feel this good. He'd had enough sex in his life to make anyone short of a prostitute blush and maybe even some of them, but he'd never had sex without a barrier and he'd certainly never made love.
Despite his attempt to delay things, it was too intense to last for long and within a few thrusts, Tony's body shuddered in release, his muscles milking Steve into his own climax. They lay together for a few minutes, nuzzling more than kissing although they managed one or two of those as well.
Finally Steve gave him a firmer kiss, then eased out of him and scurried into the rest room. The water ran and he returned with a warm damp cloth he used to wipe away the sweat and excess from Tony's body. Once he finished, he tossed it to the floor and pulled Tony into his arms. Felt like being back where he belonged, and he snuggled up close while Steve gently caressed his back.
Was drifting off when Steve said, "I can't decide."
"What?"
"Which I like better." He could hear the smile in Steve's voice and knew he was in trouble. "Teddy Tony or Tony Bear?"
"I hate you so much."
