via
http://ift.tt/2y0bHwC:
I will get this cleaned up in the nearish future and posted to AO3 (and, knowing me, possibly add more stuff).
@miss-kitty-fantastico
Part One, Part Two
In exactly seven minutes, Tony heard Bruce loudly announce to the room at large, “Things would sure go a lot easier for all of us if we were all wearing clothing.” Dum-E chirped at him indignantly, and Bruce apologized before amending, “All of us human males in the room.”
“Who said I was human?” Tony asked, poking his head around the bathroom door.
“There is a good argument that I’m not human,” Steve added thoughtfully.
“And Bruce ends up naked more than any of us,” Tony said, taking note of Steve’s expression when he suggested that he might not be human. He wanted to know who had been arguing that Steve was not human, and how much property damage would be required to get to them. He made a mental note to put Jarvis on the hunt.
Tony was probably imagining that he could hear Bruce rubbing the bridge of his nose, but then again, crazy sense-enhancing sex drug (now and forever called Glitter), so who knew? Smiling merrily, Steve tossed one of Tony’s workshop-tees at his head. Tony caught mostly with his mouth, and spit it out just in time to see Steve pulling one of Tony’s other workshop-tees over his head. It was a vintage Care Bears shirt, and small even for Tony. On Steve, Grumpy Bear was stretched obscenely across his chest.
“Grumpy Bear works out,” Tony said. He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Steve flushed pink.
Laughing, Tony walked his fingers up Steve’s clearly defined abs, and over the hill of one pec.
“Tony!” Bruce called, starting to sound testy around the edges.
Tony would not have given up exploring exactly how much Grumpy Bear worked out, but Steve cleared his throat, and stepped out of the bathroom. Tony’s slinky yoga pants clung lovingly to Steve’s hips and highlighted his ass even better than the suit. Steve moved with a kind of rolling step that suggested they weren’t as awesome to wear as they were to watch him wear.
“Spoilsport!” Tony called after him.
“Thank you, Steve,” Bruce said. “I need to do some blood work on you both. Just have a seat, and then I’ll let you go.”
“I could use a change of clothes,” Steve said, and Tony got his pants tired just in time to see Steve blushing and squirming uncomfortably on a tall shop stool. U had skirted the table over to his side and was tugging curiously at the hem of Tony’s pants. From the other side of the table, Dum-E poked at his chest and whirred.
“I can see that,” Bruce said with one eyebrow cocked, and his lips turned down in a suppressed smile.
Steve rubbed faintly at his chest and gently nudged U away from his pants. “Yes, these are Dad’s, and I know I’m wearing them instead of him. Cut it out. Tony! Tell them to cut it out,” Steve pleaded.
“I encourage curiosity,” Tony said, patting Dum-E’s armature as he hooked one foot around the leg of a stool and pulled it over so he could wait for his own turn under the needle. He considered sneaking out while they were both occupied, but considering that it was his fault that they’d been exposed in the first place, a blood draw would be the least of his penance. Steve glared at him faintly while U and Dum-E continued to cluck over his strange clothing. Bruce tolerated the distraction the way he tolerated all distractions, and Dum-E paid more attention to Bruce than he did to Tony anyways. When he got in the way, Bruce told him off, and he moved. It was a better response than Tony ever got out of the big hunk of metal.
“Traitor,” Tony muttered.
“Maybe you should stop threatening to donate him to kindergarten classrooms,” Bruce suggested mildly.
Dum-E beeped at Tony in the bot equivalent of sticking out his tongue. Steve kindly translated by sticking his tongue out on Dum-E’s behalf, which got a buzzing laugh out of U.
“I feel so ganged up on,” Tony complained, but he felt stupidly warm as he watched Steve and Bruce interacting with the strange family he’d built for himself. Steve gave up on getting U to stop tugging inquisitively at his pants and waited with good humor for Bruce to finish with the blood draw, and then disentangled himself from the stool as soon as Bruce gave him the go ahead. He hobbled awkwardly, trying to pull the pants down from they’d ridden snuggly up his ass while holding his right arm up to keep pressure on the tiny puncture.
Bruce got one of those sappy, happy looks on his face as he watched Steve’s complicated dance. With Steve’s healing, the tiny wound needed about as much care as a shaving nick, but he obviously had the motions built into his muscle memory. Steve would set his own bones and walk around on them like an idiot because he knew he could heal it, but he nursed a needle puncture with absentminded care, and frequently wore tiny cartoon-Avengers band aids until they fell off.
“I should have these results back in a couple hours, Steve,” Bruce said. He tipped his head down so he could look at Steve over the top of his glasses as they slipped down his nose. “Don’t leave the tower, and no trips to the gym. In fact, I’m confining both of you to bed rest until tomorrow. I don’t need you suddenly getting a brain bleed at the hotdog stand on the corner.”
(read more)
Steve’s eyes widened slightly. “Brain bleed?”
Tony perked up. “Bed rest?”
Bruce ignored Tony and gestured him into Steve’s vacated stool. “See: untested chemical compound in massive quantities. Hence: Lab safety protocols.”
“Ouch,” Tony said, but he deserved the pointed look. He knew better than horsing around with volatile chemicals in the lab. “Just don’t tell Rhodey.”
Bruce snorted, and didn’t even dignify the request with an answer.
Tony slumped onto the stool with a dramatic sigh. “Was worth a try.”
“I’m sure we’re both going to get it from Rhodes,” Steve said with fatalistic cheerfulness. He plucked at the back of his pants again and climbed over U to escape the curious bots, who were no longer curious about his clothing as much as they were curious about his reaction to them tugging at his clothing. Tony would have to say something to Jarvis about it, or the kids were going to start trying to undress Steve every time he was in the workshop.
“In twelve hours,” Bruce confirmed. “Everyone is under orders to leave you alone until then.” He pressed a finger to Tony’s arm, tugging the skin taut, and then slipped the needle expertly into the vein at Tony’s elbow. Tony hissed at him on principle, and Bruce continued to ignore him. He pressed a vial into the butterfly needle, and pulled the band off Tony’s upper arm. Tony watched the vial fill, tilting his head curiously at how bright red it was, and the way it seemed to foam.
“Your blood is highly oxygenated,” Bruce explained, following the direction of his eyes. “Something to look into after I’ve verified that you’re not about to die from exposure to –”
“An untested chemical compound,” Tony finished for him. “Have I said I was sorry?”
“No,” Bruce said calmly, but he was visibly annoyed, which was never a great thing with Bruce.
Tony decided not to push him, and sat quietly while Bruce finished filling four large vials, and then grabbed a gauze pad and pressed it over the needle as he drew it out. Tony obligingly put a finger over the pad until Bruce had taped it down, and then kept his arm curled when Bruce pressed his wrist up toward his shoulder.
“You’re being unusually cooperative,” Bruce said suspiciously. He took out a penlight and shined it in Tony’s eyes, tutting and pursing his lips as he did. “Are you feeling especially inclined toward compliance? Drowsy? Fuzzy at all?”
“You say that like I’m never cooperative,” Tony said, trying his best pout.
He must have been getting rusty, because Bruce just gave him a level look and checked his heart rate again. Looking unsatisfied and aggrieved, Bruce waved a hand to shoo Tony off the stool. “Go. Get Steve into some pants that don’t restrict his circulation. Try not to do anything too strenuous, please.”
“Sure,” Tony said, bouncing off the stool and over to where Steve was still holding his hand up by his shoulder like the dork he was. “Hear that? Nothing too strenuous.”
“Twelve hours is a lot more generous than seven minutes,” Steve pointed out. “Plenty of time to not do strenuous things.”
“And so many non-strenuous things we can do,” Tony agreed.
Making a helpless whining sound, Bruce said, “For the love of quasars, please leave. You’re retroactively ruining my childhood.”
Normally somewhat sensitive to being reminded that he was a childhood icon for just about everyone on the team, Steve just laughed and laced his puncture-free arm around Tony’s waist to lead him to the elevator. Behind them, Bruce was industriously labeling vials, and pointedly ignoring the way Tony leaned into Steve’s side.
Steve’s lips were on his the moment the doors closed. “We could have been in serious trouble today,” he murmured, but he didn’t take his mouth away. Jarvis helpful started the elevator up to the penthouse without having to be asked.
“We are going to be in serious trouble tomorrow,” Tony reminded him, but he was still deliciously relaxed and almost completely pain-free, and Steve was wearing a women’s medium Care Bare t-shirt, and life was good for the moment. He would worry about the reaming out he was bound to get the next day when Rhodey was bearing down on him with that Eyes Like a Gathering Storm™ look that Tony preferred to see only when it was pointed at someone else.
“I mean,” Steve pressed, pulling away from Tony just enough to make eye contact, “that today could have gone a lot worse.”
Tony wrapped a hand around Steve’s lower jaw to cover his mouth. “Twelve hours. We have to be left alone for twelve hours, and that means from ourselves too. We are going to my giant bed with the silky sheets you like best, and we are going to have lots and lots of wild sex, with occasional pauses for snacks and naps. Tomorrow we can do the recrimination thing, although, seriously, wait for Rhodey, because he is something else when he really puts his back into it, and we are going to be recriminated so hard.”
Steve waited patiently for Tony to move his hand before saying, “I don’t think that sentence works that way.”
Groaning, Tony put his forehead against Steve’s collarbone, and then tweaked his nipple in retaliation. Steve jolted, but went from half-erect, to insistently shoving Tony against the elevator wall in the space of a single swift breath, so Tony would take it as a victory.
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