Bandom/Avengers Crossover for candy_belle
5 3 Times Patrick, Pepper And Phil Had To Punish Their Subs and 1 Time They Were Pleasantly Surprised ....A Bandom/Avengers Crossover (God help me)
(Assume with me that Pete Wentz is a Tony Stark fanboy -and let's face it, he totally would be if Stark was real; fuck, he probably is now- and that Tony is a fanboy of anyone who is a fanboy of him -again, probably completely true- and Clint.... Well, he has no idea how or why he ended up friends with these people, but he blames Tony. We're also going to assume that Patrick, Pepper and Phil have bonded over their subs complete and utter attention whoring, hyperness, drama queen theatrics, disregard for safety, complete lack of common sense despite their intelligence and their firm belief that the rules are meant for everyone else except them. They often -when in the same town and their schedules allow for it- get together for coffee and to commiserate over the fact that "that little bastard gave me another gray hair, damn it". Pairings (for anyone reading who isn't me or candy_belle) are: Dom!Patrick/sub!Pete, Domme!Pepper/sub!Tony and Dom!Phil/sub!Clint. ...yeah, this kind of got away from me. Sorry? A/N: so, I know there's a couple spots in this where the Avengers guys are kind of OOC and I apologize for that, but there wasn't any way to fix it without having to redo everything and, to be honest, I just didn't want to fucken do it. This is suppose to be fun, tho, fun and cracky and completely ridiculous, so read it with a grain of salt, please? Also, this ate my fucken brain and refused to die, so it ended up being a 3 and 1. My bad.)
Three. "Name."
Tony looked at the large security guard in disbelief.
"Did you really just ask me who I am?" He demanded. "How can you not know me? I was just on-"
Pepper rolled her eyes at her sub's theatrics and not-so-gently elbowed him aside so she could smile up at the guard. Behind her she heard Clint snickering at the hurt look on Tony's face and Phil almost immediately shush him.
Before Pepper could get out more than a cheerful 'hello', there was a slight commotion behind the security guard and Pepper was sure she saw him wince slightly before looking resigned.
"Tony!" Pete crowed, launching himself onto the older man. He latched onto him and gave him a loud kiss on the cheek before he turned to Clint and held his hand up for a fist bump. Clint rolled his eyes, but it was more for form than anything else.
"Don't worry, Charlie, they're with me," Pete assured him before he turned to give Pepper an enthusiastic hug and Phil a smile.
Phil was more reserved than any of them and Pete tried to respect that -he didn't always remember, but he figured he got points for trying.
Pepper noticed that Charlie didn't look relieved at the information; if anything it seemed to make him unhappier.
"Pete, you know after what happened last time, Patrick banned you from letting people backstage," Charlie explained tiredly.
"That wasn't my fault!" Pete protested. "How was I suppose to know that girl was a hooker? I thought she was just a normal fan."
"It's OK, Pete," Pepper told him, patting his back. "We can just go to our seats and talk more tomorrow."
"No," Pete said stubbornly and scowled. "I wanted to show Tony and Clint...something."
Before either her or Phil could comment on that potentially disturbing information, another voice entered the conversation.
"It's alright, Charlie, they're with me," Patrick told him and smiled slightly at the look of pure relief that showed on the bigger man's face.
"Patrick," Pepper said warmly and stepped forward for a hug.
"Hey, Pepper," Patrick smiled, genuinely happy to see them. He returned the hug and brushed an affectionate kiss across her cheek before he turned and shook Phil's hand with another smile.
He went to say 'hi' to Tony and Clint and rolled his eyes when he saw Pete and Tony already dragging a reluctant Clint down the hallway and through the maze that was backstage.
"Come on, guys," Patrick told them and motioned them to follow him the same way their subs went but at a slower pace.
"How's everything been since -well, you know," Patrick shrugged and made a gesture with his hand that meant, "you know, since the crazy bastard of the moment tried to take over the country last week and you saved us, AGAIN".
"Good," Phil answered, his voice easy. "No one was really injured this time, so we get actual down time this time around instead of spending it in a hospital."
"Tony's been looking forward to coming to the concert," Pepper added quietly. "He's been antsy since the mission ended; even JARVIS wasn't able to keep him distracted for long.
"It's a good distraction for him. I think Clint's been looking forward to it, as well," she paused and waited for Phil to nod in confirmation before she went on.
"It'll give them a chance to forget about everything and just be friends hanging out."
Patrick nodded, his face serious. "Pete should be able to help with the distraction; he's got new Clan merch to play with on top of trying to convince me it would be a good idea to have Tony come and play bass for him during 'Saturday'."
Pepper laughed at the idea. "I don't how useful he would be, honestly, Tony's not very good with instruments."
"He's about the same as Pete then," Patrick said and shared a laugh with the other two.
He paused in the middle of a long hallway and opened the door so they could stick their heads in.
"Pete, we're going to be next...." Patrick trailed off, his eyes widening at the scene before him. He had the sudden urge to laugh hysterically and had to bite his lip to keep the laughter in check.
Pete was in the middle of the room, clothes from the new Clan fall line strewn around, and he was dressing his friends like they were all teenage girls.
"Hey, 'Trick. What do you think?" he asked cheerfully, pointing at Tony who was wearing a hoody that looked like it was finger painted by a color blind, hyper active toddler; the bartskull over the front marked it as Clandestine design but that was just overkill in Patrick's opinion.
"I've got one in purple for Clint," Pete added thoughtfully and turned to fish through the pile of discarded clothes on the floor next to him.
Clint turned scared eyes on his Dom, who looked like he was close to bursting into laughter.
"Um, aren't those girl clothes?" Phil asked, trying to help his sub.
"Technically," Pete answered and held the purple hoody up against Clint's body.
"But I don't believe in catering to gender stereotypes or the assumptions that say I have to act or be a certain way because I just happen to have a dick and identify with the male gender."
"You know, I like the way this makes my chest look," Tony put in, looking himself over in the full length mirror and preening. "It makes my pecs and abs looked more sculpted."
"Plus, they make you look hot," Pete added with a grin.
With both Tony and Pete looking at him expectantly, Clint sighed in defeat.
"Fine, give me that purple monstrosity," Clint said as he stripped off his t-shirt and dropped it onto the floor.
Pete beamed at him and handed it over to the older sub before he started looking around the dressing room expectantly. "Now, where did I put the eyeliner?"
"Eyeliner?" Tony repeated and perked up at the same time Clint looked at Pete horrified. "Eyeliner?! No way in hell, Wentz; unless it's for work, I draw the line at make-up!”
"We're gonna be next door," Patrick managed to choke out as all three of their subs started arguing over each other.
They managed to wait until they were in the other dressing room before they started laughing; Patrick was doubled over and Pepper was wiping tears. Even Phil was chuckling and shaking his head in amusement.
They eventually settled down enough to have a cup of coffee and talk a little bit about what they had been up to since they saw each other last.
Phil was explaining to Patrick about the last time Clint got injured, “He jumped off the roof of a second story building because he had a bet going with Natasha over who could get downstairs first and thought that a broken ankle was well worth the price of beating Tasha at her own game. I almost strangled him,” when they heard a loud thump from the next room, followed by cursing.
The noise level had been steadily getting louder as they got closer to show time; techs in and out of both rooms, house and their own security teams making sure everyone was accounted for, their tour manager making sure everything was set up for after the show; the usual things that made touring and performing a reality.
But that thump was extremely suspicious -especially since it was followed by cursing and Pete hissing, “Will you shut the fuck up, Dirty? You're going to get Patrick in here,” along with Tony's aggravated, “Or, God forbid, Pepper. Do you want us all to be killed?”
Patrick sighed and exchanged a long, understanding look with Pepper before they both got up and headed for the room next door. Phil got up and followed since he had a feeling Clint was probably involved, too.
“What the hell is going on in here?” Patrick demanded as he slowly took in the scene in front of him; he didn't yell or even raise his voice, but he made sure everyone could tell he meant business.
“'Trick, hey, we're just...” Pete trailed off and swallowed nervously when Patrick fixed a steely glare in his direction; Pete spent most of his life pushing against every line Patrick had ever put in place for him and even he knew better than to talk when Patrick gave him that look. Pete was pretty sure he was already in for a world of hurt later on, there was really no call to go and make it worse by talking back.
Patrick looked around the room, from Pete and Tony standing next to Clint, all three of them looking guiltier than a pastor in a brothel, to Dirty who was standing across the room from them holding his hand, which was bleeding, what the fuck, to the way everyone else in the room was trying to avoid his eyes and look busy.
“Pete,” Patrick said, his voice soft and dangerous; Pete winced and debated taking a step away from him. “What happened?”
“Uh, well, we were just hanging out, you know, and, um, we -me and Tony- were maybe kinda bragging about how good Clint was with his bow and arrow,” Pete babbled, his gift with words completely deserting him. “And somehow, we ended up saying how Clint could hit any bullseye, with anything, no problem. Dirty said no way and we kind of bet him, like, $200 -”
“Wait, $200?” Tony interrupted, looking surprised. “I thought it was $2,000.”
“Jesus, Stark, not everyone has that kind of pocket change,” Pete said and elbowed him affectionately.
“Anyway, yeah, we bet him some money to stand still,” Pete hurried on at the warning glance from Patrick. “While... Uh, while Hawkeye threw some knives at him,” he finished and waited for the inevitable explosion.
“You did what??!” Patrick thundered, his face slowly turning red. Pete briefly thought that it was a good thing Patrick loved him or else he would probably be dead right now.
“Why would you even do that? Seriously, Pete, explain this to me because you've done some stupid things before, but this goes beyond that.”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Pete answered before he thought it through and realized adding fuel to the fire probably wasn't the smart thing to do.
“Like a good idea? I swear to god, you're -”
“You owe me two hundred bucks, Wentz,” Dirty interrupted -which, really, just proved that he had the survival instincts of a lemming because no one interrupted Patrick when he was in the middle of ranting, not even Andy. “That fucker hit me so pay up.”
“You moved,” Clint said,speaking up for the first time. He looked slightly nauseous at the look Phil was giving him, but he went on anyway. “If you hadn't moved your hand, it wouldn't have come close to cutting you.”
“See, asshole? You were suppose to stand still, not spaz out like a retard, so -”
“Shut up,” Patrick spit out and he sounded furious enough that even Dirty got a clue and stopped talking. “Dirty, you're a fucken idiot. If you're dumb enough to listen to Pete Wentz and Tony Stark, of all people, telling you not to move while someone else throws sharp objects at you, you deserve everything you get. Go see the medic and stay the hell away from me for the next day or so.”
Pete watched in envy as Dirty scrambled out of the room and away from Patrick's infamous temper.
“And you, Pete,” Patrick paused and Pete made sure to pay attention but Patrick seemed at a loss for words for a minute.
“Where did you get throwing knives from?” He finally asked.
“Uh,” Pete said and looked at Joe out of the corner of his eyes; he didn't want to rat Joe out because while Patrick might love him too much to actually murder him, Joe had no such assurances.
Patrick was well versed in Pete's body language, however, and followed his eyes to where their lead guitarist was trying to make himself invisible in the corner.
“You gave him throwing knives, Trohman?” Patrick demanded, his eyes narrowed. “Why would you -no, you know what, I'm not dealing with that right now.
“Pete, go into the our dressing room,” Patrick ordered, his voice a little deeper, harder, meaner, than it usually was.
“But we have a show -” Pete started to say, his whole demeanor quieter than normal; it was like someone had flipped a switch in his brain.
“Did I ask you to say anything? No, I didn't. Get in there, now.” Patrick repeated and this time Pete knew better than to argue.
“Yes, Patrick,” Pete murmured obediently; he kept his head bowed as he walked out. He only paused long enough to glance at Tony and Clint in apology before he left the room.
“Joe, I am going to kick your ass after the show,” Patrick promised him darkly before he turned to Pepper and Phil.
“Sorry, guys,” he said, giving Pepper a quick hug and nodding at Phil. “I'll have Charlie bring you to your seats. We should try to get together tomorrow; assuming Pete can still walk,” he added grimly, his eyes narrowed.
“Don't worry about it, Patrick,” Pepper assured him, her own eyes dark with suppressed anger. “Pete won't be the only one in pain tomorrow.
“Anthony,” she said, motioning for Tony to go in front of her.
“Pepper, I -” Tony tried to say, but one look from her was enough to get him to shut up and walk meekly out the door.
Clint didn't even bother saying anything; he just hunched up his shoulders, hung his head and walked out with his Dom following close behind.
Tonight wasn't going to be fun at all.
Two. “Dude, I can't believe we're in Stark Tower,” Pete whispered to Patrick as he bounced on his feet. Patrick snickered and shook his head over Pete's antics; Pete reminded him of an excitable toddler sometimes.
“I mean, it's Stark Tower,” Pete went on and now there was a gleeful note in his voice. “Did you see Joe's face when we told him where we were gonna be all day? I thought he was going to cry. 'Course, Tony is on his dude exceptions list, so that could be why. Huh, I wonder if I should tell Tony?”
“I don't think Pepper would thank you for inflating Tony's ego even more,” Patrick pointed out dryly as he put a hand on Pete's shoulders to steer him towards the security guard and the receptionist's desk “Considering how big it already is.
“Patrick Stump and Pete Wentz,” Patrick told the receptionist, a polite smile on his face while Pete practically vibrated with suppressed joy next to him.
“Can I please see some I.D.?” She asked in a bored tone. She took their licenses and scanned them into the machine in front of her before she handed them back.
“You're cleared; Mr. Stark's on the fourth floor today. Just ride the elevators up and go to the desk, they'll be able to tell you exactly where he is,” she went on and then paused when she got a good look at them. “Hey, aren't you in that band?”
Before Patrick even do anything, Pete nudged him out of the way so that he was behind Pete and Pete was the one in front of her, beaming.
“That depends,” Pete told her, voice shifting over to the flirting tone he used with female fans and reporters. “Which band do you think we are?”
“Oh, you know, that one with the singer that wants to save lives,” she said, smiling at him.
Patrick could hear the genuine amusement in Pete's next words.
“Oh, you mean My Chemical Romance? Nah -but I did fuck their bassist once,” Pete informed her, his face earnest and solemn.
“Jesus Christ, Pete,” Patrick said as he rolled his eyes and dragged him away from the desk toward the elevators.
Pete looked over his shoulder and waved cheerfully at the dumbstruck secretary and the slightly smirking guard.
“I think I just made that guard's day,” Pete mused, as they rode up to the fourth floor. “Wonder if Gee would count that as saving someone?”
Patrick just rolled his eyes and pasted on another polite smile for the perky-looking receptionist sitting at the desk in front of them.
“Tony Stark, please,” Patrick said pleasantly.
“I'm sorry, Mr. Stark is busy right now,” she informed him haughtily and managed to look down her nose at Patrick even though she was seated below him.
“He's expecting us,” Patrick told her, his voice edging over into the annoyed tone he got with over zealous reporters. “If you could call him or Pepper Potts, I'm sure they'll clear us to go back.”
“Do you know how many times a day I hear that?” she huffed even as Patrick's eyes narrowed and Pete moved to go in between them because as funny as it might have been, he didn't want his best friend/lead singer/Dom to get arrested for murder. “It might be amusing if there wasn't always the same story, over and over again.”
“Amelia,” a strong female voice said before Patrick could do more than open his mouth “What is going on here?”
“Ms. Potts,” Amelia said and straightened up in her seat before shooting Patrick a dirty look. “I was just informing these people that Mr. Stark isn't accepting any callers today. They were just -”
“Patrick, Pete,” Pepper interrupted and gave them each a hug and exchanged 'hellos' before she turned to the receptionist.
“Amelia, I realize that you're fairly new, but did you really think that they would have made it this far upstairs if they hadn't first been cleared in the lobby? Or that JARVIS would have let them out of the elevator?”
“I thought he -it- JARVIS was only on the upper floors,” Amelia stammered out, looking fairly sick.
Pepper looked like she was refraining from rolling her eyes with great restraint and instead called out, “JARVIS?”
“Yes, Miss Potts?” a male voice answered immediately.
“Holy shit, that's really JARVIS?” Pete asked, his voice raising in excitement. “Tony told me all about you! Can you do something cool?”
“I suppose so,” JARVIS answered, sounding resigned; if Patrick didn't know better, he would think that JARVIS got harassed all the time to do something “cool” -but, then, Patrick had met Tony before, so, yeah.
There was silence and then a small pop and the computer in front of the receptionist started smoking and the sprinkler system above the desk went off, making puddles rapidly appear along the desk's surface.
Amelia jumped and then made a soft sound of distress as she was quickly soaked through.
“I know your grandfather is on the Board of Directors, Amelia,” Pepper said sternly, looking the other women over and clearly finding her wanting. “But stupidity will not be tolerated, regardless of your genetics. Am I understood?”
“Yes, ma'am,” Amelia answered weakly.
“Come along,” Pepper told Patrick and Pete, her voice as friendly as it usually was towards them.
“Tony's in the lab, Pete -he asked me to drop you off on our way through. Clint's there as well.”
“Awesome,” Pete said, smirking over his shoulder at the sight of the receptionist still getting wet.
“I think your point has been made, JARVIS,” Pepper said and there was no mistaking the amusement in her voice.
“As you wish,” JARVIS said and they could hear the water cutting off suddenly.
A few minutes later, they dropped Pete off and continued on down the hall to a medium sized waiting room where Phil was reading the newspaper.
“Don't worry, Patrick; there's nothing very dangerous in the labs on this floor and I have JARVIS watching them as well,” Pepper assured him as she ushered him inside and closed the door behind them.
“JARVIS,” Pepper called out as she gave Patrick a cup of coffee and settled down on the couch next to him. “Are you watching the lab like I asked you to?”
“Of course, Miss Potts,” came the immediate response. “I am keeping an eye on them as we speak; Mr. Stump has nothing to worry about.”
“Did you really just call me 'Mr. Stump'?” Patrick asked, smiling a little. “You don't need to do that; 'Patrick' is more than fine.”
There was a humming silence before JARVIS replied in a prim voice, “I really don't think that would be appropriate, Mr. Stump.”
“It's no use, Patrick,” Pepper told him, laughing. “Think of JARVIS as a very proper British butler; he would never call anyone by their first name. He even refers to Tony as 'sir' or 'Mr. Stark'.”
“The first couple of times he called Clint 'Mr. Barton', Clint kept twitching,” Phil remembered with a chuckle. “Usually only reporters or bad guys stick the 'Mr.' in front of your last name.”
“You'll get used to it,” Pepper added, taking a sip of her coffee. “What are you up to this week?”
“Well, the VMA's are on Sunday; we're performing and we're up for Viewer's Choice, so we need to practice for that,” Patrick answered with a shrug. “And we're suppose to be performing on The View tomorrow morning and Conan the following night; Good Morning America, The Today Show and Regis and Kelly -possibly Letterman if it that ends up going through. Pete and I have to meet up with Travis for some label business at some point tomorrow night -there's this new band playing in a dive in the Bronx he thinks we should sign.
“Plus, a bunch of radio interviews,” Patrick went on, rolling his eyes. “TRL on Friday and DecayDance is taking over MTV on Saturday, so a bunch of us are going to be performing and hanging out. And I think Pete's planning on having an after party at AK47 Sunday night,” he finished and raised an eyebrow at the looks both Pepper and Phil were giving him.
“That's for this week?” Phil questioned, looking incredulous.
“Yeah -well, it's Tuesday, so from now until Sunday night,” Patrick explained and paused to drink some of his coffee before he continued. “We're off Monday morning, but our flight back to Chicago leaves late afternoon.
“I'm just glad we finished touring last month -there's nothing worse than touring during award show season.”
“How are you even still awake?” Pepper asked. “Even Tony's schedule isn't that hectic.”
“You get used to it; you learn to sleep on an amp and like it if you have to,” Patrick mused, smiling at the looks of disbelief on his friends' faces.
“Besides, that's nothing compared to chasing people around the planet most weeks,” Patrick pointed out.
“Excuse me, Miss Potts,” JARVIS interrupted and if Patrick didn't know better he would think that the AI sounded sheepish. “But you might want to go check on Mr. Stark; he managed to bypass the program I had running so I could observe them and reroute it onto a loop so that it seemed like I was still watching them when, in reality, I was watching a recording.”
Pepper heaved a sigh and got up.
“Thank you; don't worry, JARVIS, I don't blame you -Tony's always been too smart for his own good,” Pepper said as she left the room.
Patrick and Phil exchanged looks before they followed behind her; they both knew that their subs were involved in whatever was going on.
Pepper tried to access the lab and narrowed her eyes when there was a buzz and Tony's voice said, “Whoever that is, go away. I'm in the middle -”
“Anthony Edward Stark,” Pepper said, her voice hard. “Open this door. Now.”
There was a pause and then the doors slid open to reveal Tony, Pete and Clint squinting at them through a cloud of smoke and completely drenched by the sprinkler system that was going off.
“Oh, Pepper,” Tony said and smiled charmingly. “I can explain?”
“Really?” Pepper asked and raised her eyebrow menacingly. “I'd love to hear how.”
“Well...”
Patrick met Pete's eyes and noticed the way he kept playing with the sleeves to his wet hoody. Oh, this was going to be interesting,
One. The less said about that incident with Pete, Clint, Tony, Natasha, Thor, that tank, the mercenaries and those rabid fangirls, the better.
And....
One. Patrick walked into the quiet hotel room and sighed in relief; the past week had been crazy and he was just thankful to be away from the crowd of people at the after party.
He walked into the bedroom and paused at the sight of Pete on his knees at the foot of the bed, naked, his head down, back straight and his hands clasped behind him.
“Jesus, Pete,” Patrick sighed as he walked over to him; he carded his hand through Pete's hair and smiled slightly at the pleased noise Pete made and the way he pushed up into the touch.
“What did you do now? I really don't want to deal with any trouble you might have gotten into the past couple hours.”
“I didn't do anything,” Pete said softly and glanced up at his Dom before fixing his eyes back on the ground.
“I mean, I know I have a tendency to, uh, get into...situations,” Pete went on. He chewed on his lip for a minute before he went on.
“But I wanted to show you how much I appreciate how you take care of me and the way you deal with all the bullshit that comes with it.
“So, this afternoon, I went shopping with Tony and Clint,” Pete motioned to the left with his head and for the first time, Patrick saw that the black duffel that they kept their toys in when they were on the road was next to the bed, open and it looked like there were several new ones in there.
“And I thought we could try them out since we're not doing anything tomorrow,” Pete finished and he chanced another look at Patrick and mentally patted himself on the back when he saw the way Patrick was looking him over now.
Patrick took a second to hope that Pepper and Phil were having as good a time as he was about to.
“In that case,” Patrick said, his voice dropping down to his lowest register unconsciously.
Pete inhaled sharply and tensed in anticipation of his next orders.
Patrick caught the movement and smirked. “Get up. Against the wall, presentation position.”
As his sub scrambled to obey, Patrick knew it was going to be a long, fun, night.