AVENGERS ASSEMBLE...AND MAKEOUT
Okay, so. With all the excitement that's been building over the last week or so, there seems to be an unreasonable amount of negativity coming along with it. And that just won't do! So here's what I propose:
♥an Avengers Kissing Meme♥
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♥an Avengers Kissing Meme♥
( Read more... )
V.
“Stark.”
Coulson’s voice sends a shudder through his spine, and Tony closes his eyes. He’s still not used to him not being dead. And, maybe he’s still a little livid that Fury lied to them about Coulson actually dying. (God, he can remember the blood on the trading cards. He wonders if it was even Coulson’s blood, or some unlucky SHIELD hack.)
“Coulson,” he responds, tilting his head, but not turning around to face him.
Tony pretends not to notice when Coulson walks around the front of Tony’s table and sits down in front of him. He just keeps working on the motherboard for a new computer he’s developing.
“They told me what you did for me,” he says, and Tony scoffs.
“Barton put you up to this?” It would be Clint’s idea of a sick joke. “Natasha? Fury?”
“I am capable of making my own decisions,” Coulson answers him, and Tony works his jaw, cracks his neck.
“Yeah, well, congratulations, but I don’t give a fuck. Who let you down here anyway? This is my lab. Get out.”
Unsurprisingly, Coulson doesn’t listen, and instead just leans forward, into Tony’s space.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?” Tony snaps, furious. He slams his work down on the table, effectively destroying it, but he doesn’t care right now, not with this kind of anger. “Ignoring you? Pretending you don’t exist because the sight of you makes me sick? Pretending that you’re still dead so I don’t look like a fucking fool for believing Fury, hook, line and sinker?”
Tony scoffs, pushes away from the table and stands. “You don’t get to be annoyed at me-- irritated with me-- because I’m not the one in the wrong here. For once.”
Coulson stares back at him, blinks, and stands. “Are you done?” he says after a moment, walking around the table slowly.
“No, I’m not fucking done, I am so far from done that when I’m done you’ll--” But he never gets to say what Coulson will do, because he’s suddenly being kissed by Coulson and no, seriously, what the fuck.
“Why do people keep doing that to me?” Tony yells, shoving Coulson away. “Seriously? Who put you up to this? It’s not funny anymore. It was never funny!”
“I was just saying thank you,” Coulson says in that same stupid voice, wiping his mouth. “Thought you’d appreciate it.”
“Yeah-- well-- fuck you.” Tony knows it’s not his best comeback ever, but he doesn’t care. He makes sure to slam the door on his way out.
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VI.
Tony is curled up on an old leather couch in Howard’s study when Steve finds him, lost in a novel and the lingering scent of his father’s tobacco.
“What are you reading?” Steve asks, and Tony huffs, turns more away from the sound of Steve’s voice. He doesn’t need this right now.
“Nothing,” he says, because he’s nothing if not petulant at his best, and this clearly is not his best.
“Doesn’t look like nothing,” Steve says calmly, a sad twist to his mouth that Tony can hear.
“Well, it is. What do you want? Who sent you? Are you here to kiss me? Because really, I’ve had enough, and that’s saying something,” Tony says.
“No one sent me, I came on my own. You’ve been up here for awhile, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
Tony doesn’t respond, which Steve obviously takes as an invitation to speak more, because, well, he’s Steve. It’s the Right Thing or whatever.
“I know that losing someone is hard, especially a friend--”
“No,” Tony interrupts, voice stern. “Stop it. I would rather have the kissing--” Steve turns a satisfying shade of pink. “Seriously. You don’t have to coddle me, I’ve lost people before, almost everyone I’ve ever--” He catches a glimpse of Steve’s face, clearly hurt, and remembers oh right, woke up in the 21st century and knows literally no one except the son of his dead friend.
“God, don’t look at me like that,” Tony scoffs, “Look. We have something in common. We both lost our families or whatever, our friends, people who mean something to us. That’s just what happens. Life goes on. We grow and change and adapt to life without them.”
“You really believe that?” Steve asks him, furrowing his brow.
“I have to, I’m a futurist,” he says, and Steve cracks a smile at that. It fades after a moment, and he continues.
“But Coulson coming back--”
“I really don’t want to talk about this, Steve,” Tony says, closing his eyes, and Steve sighs heavily, sits down on the couch next to him.
“If you keep building up these walls, no one’s going to be able to get to you, Tony.”
“Maybe that’s what I want,” Tony mutters, and he feels Steve shake his head.
“You don’t have to be this lonely. You’re not alone, you’re so charming, anyone would be your friend--” Steve’s voice has a pleading note in it that Tony can’t stand. Like Tony’s unstable, volatile, and oh, maybe he is.
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“No,” he says again, voice hard, throwing his book down to the floor. “No. They wouldn’t. Believe me, I’ve tried, and yeah, okay, poor Tony Stark with billions of dollars but no friends. I don’t know why Pepper and Rhodey are around more than half the time, much less anyone else, I don’t deserve any of what I have, and don’t you think I know that by now? This thing in my chest is only here because I used to make weapons, and when I refused to do that, I almost died. The only thing I’m good for is killing people, Steve. Who wants to be friends with that?”
Steve blinks at him, puts a hand on Tony’s knee. It takes a lot for Tony not to shove him away.
“They stay because you’re worth it, Tony, I mean it. You’re smart, and you’re kind and you’re loyal. You’re kind of an idiot, sometimes, but that’s par for the course around here. I was wrong about you, when that spear was making us all say those hateful things. I was wrong. You’re a good man. I don’t understand why you can’t realize that.”
Tony clenches his jaw and looks away, focuses on the bookshelf on the other side of the room until he can calm down. He’s about to say something when he realizes Steve’s hand is still on his leg, and, okay, he really doesn’t want to talk about his sad life anymore, the best strategy for getting Steve out of the study is one that’s been used on Tony all week.
He puts his hand over Steve’s, waits for him to look up and then leans in, his free hand going to Steve’s jaw to keep him in place as he presses their mouths together.
It’s better than Tony expects-- and much different than any of the other kisses he’s gotten recently. Steve doesn’t seem to be as tentative as Tony thought he would be-- oh. That’s Steve’s hand on Tony’s hip, pulling him closer, and Tony is still kissing him, and Steve is kissing back, and this is a very different direction than he thought this would go.
He pulls away for breath, pleased to find Steve blushing. “Come on, Cap,” Tony says, demeanor completely changed from a few moments ago-- if he’s doing this ‘seduce Captain America thing’ he’s doing it right, damn it. “I know that’s not your first kiss.”
“Stop it,” Steve says, and Tony pulls back further, but Steve catches him before he goes too far. “No, I mean, the fake stuff. I hate that.”
“I didn’t know you were capable of hating anything,” Tony replies, untangling himself, but Steve catches his wrist.
“Stop. I mean it. We don’t have to talk about it anymore, we can keep kissing, that’s fine, but you have to believe that I don’t hate you.” Steve looks so earnest that Tony might puke.
“You want to keep kissing me?” Maybe not the best thing to focus on, but whatever, Steve’s hand around his wrist is having surprising effects on him. The inability to critically listen, for one.
“Are you crazy? Of course I do.” Steve rolls his eyes, and is about to say something else, but can’t because Tony launches himself into Steve’s lap, kissing him again.
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fantastic.
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