Fic: Sex, Lies and Newsprint: Bad Influence, PG
Title: Sex, Lies and Newsprint: A Year of Cap/Tony Romance as Told By the Tabloids
Universe: Marvel Adventures
Pairing: Steve/Tony
Warnings: None
Summary: Captain America is riding motorcycles, wearing leather and punching people. Obviously he's under the bad influence of Tony Stark because we all know Captain America would never have done any of those things on his own! Wait, what?
Previous chapters can be found here: Sex Lies and Newsprint
Superhuman Star
Wild Child!
Leather jackets, motorcycles and public brawling aren't what most people think of when they consider superheroes. For any defender of justice and liberty, this kind of behavior would be frowned upon - if not flat-out inappropriate. But for Captain America, the first superhero, the epitome of heroism, it's almost inconceivable.
Yet that's exactly what happened earlier this week when Steve Rogers - sporting leather biking gear and roaming through the city on a vintage motorcycle - ended up in a very public fight with a group of college students outside a coffeeshop on Lexington.
No one was seriously hurt but the police were called to the scene and several arrests were made. The detective in charge of the case, Detective Josh Carlton of NYPD, declined to be interviewed for this article, but did issue a brief statement verifying that Captain America was involved in the altercation but was not under arrest had had returned home after giving his statement. While an arrest record would surely be embarrassing for the cofounder of the Avengers, this brush with the law doesn't seem to have calmed his behavior any.
Doctor Sylvia Ramsey, a behavioral psychologist who does not treat Captain America, offered several possible explanations for his recent behavior. "This could be a delayed adolescence," Dr. Ramsey explained. "Captain Rogers grew up during the Depression and was a young man during World War Two - both very stressful periods of history where everyone was called upon to act with responsibility and a sense of community. He never really had the chance to act out, rebel and sow his wild oats. Now, suddenly in a time and place of relative peace and prosperity, he has the chance to indulge a little and test the boundaries in a way he couldn't before."
Of course, that isn't the only explanation. "It is also possible that there is a negative or unhealthy influence in his life," Dr. Ramsey admitted.
A lot of people think they know exactly who that unhealthy influence is, too. Bad-boy billionaire Tony "Iron Man" Stark has been romantically linked to Captain America for the last few months and there is concern that this out-of-character behavior is the result. After all, Tony is no stranger to wild deeds.
In fact, that is exactly the sort of thing Tony used to be famous for. Since he sobered up, his penchant for public drunkenness, property damage and sexual scandals has dropped considerably. But the timing is too much to ignore.
"Cap's never been known for acting out or rabble-rousing," a SHIELD agent who wished to remain anonymous told us. "This is definitely Stark's influence and the old man knows it."
The "old man" is SHIELD director Nick Fury, who has more than earned his reputation as a no-nonsense, hard-edged administrator. Could his new wildness impact Captain America's job as an agent of SHIELD?
"He's Captain America," our inside agent tells us. "He's got a lot of credit built up. But SHIELD cannot afford a scandal and the old man never liked Stark much. If he thinks Stark is corrupting Cap, he might give Cap an ultimatum."
A career Captain Rogers loves or the man who may cause him to lose it all? Doesn't seem like such a tough choice to us! But people close to Captain America doubt he'll see it that way. Avengers teammate Luke Cage refused to be interviewed but stated firmly that Stark had a hold over Rogers that wasn't going to be easy to break. And our inside agent doesn't think Captain Rogers will be easy to convince. "Cap's a loyal sumbitch," our informant said. "The more people trash Stark, the more Cap'll stick with him."
****
Tony breezed out the front doors of Stark Industries like a man with everywhere to be, eyes hidden behind reflective sunglasses despite the late hour, his hair a little more tousled than usual. No sign of his entourage today; Pepper was still upstairs working, and Happy would be with her, Rhodey was in Malibu overseeing the testing of Tony's newest helicopter and the bodyguards had apparently been given the night off - or at least ordered to keep their distance. Sometimes the sheer number of people who trailed after Tony on a daily basis made Steve's head hurt. It made it easier to understand Tony's occasional periods of intense solitude.
He strode across the plaza toward the street where Steve was waiting, pushed the glasses down the length of his nose and glared at Steve over them. "All day long I have to hear about the high and mighty Captain Rogers brawling like a common street thug," he announced, voice carrying over the small distance between them. "All day I tell everyone who'll listen that it's just the tabloids and they shouldn't get too worked up about it." He stopped a few feet away from Steve, arms crossed firmly over his chest. "Imagine my surprise to hear it's true."
"It was hardly brawling," Steve said. He didn't move from his place, leaning against a cement pylon next to where he'd parked the Harley, though he did lift his shoulders in a small shrug. "And it wasn't anything to get worked up over."
Tony glared at him over the rim of the glasses. "All day, I tell everyone, hey, it can't be true. If Steve had been arrested I'd know about it. Because he's my boyfriend. He'd call me if something had happened." He swiped the glasses off and jabbed them at Steve for punctuation. "Because he's my boyfriend."
"I like it when you call me that," Steve said, not bothering to hide the fond smile on his face or keep the affection from his voice.
Tony rolled his eyes. "Oh, shut up, you cannot flatter me into calming down. You suck."
"I wasn't arrested," Steve said soothingly. "It wasn't a brawl. Nothing serious happened. If it had, I would have called you."
"Not calming down," Tony said, but his shoulders were already loosening up, his mouth was already losing the tired, stressed twist. He pointed at Steve with his shades again. "You still suck."
Steve snagged the shades away from Tony and slid them into his coat pocket before Tony could graduate to smacking him with them. He pushed away from the pylon and caught Tony by the arms, tugging him in close till there was only a few inches between them. "It wasn't a big deal."
Tony's lips pressed together into a thin, angry line. "They were homophobes. They lured you into that alley and they tried to bash you."
"Tried to," Steve said. "Tried. They were young and ignorant and not one of them a real fighter. I realized I'd been tricked before they got in the first swing. Tony, they didn't lay a hand on me."
"That doesn't make it all right," Tony said. He slumped a little against Steve's hold. "I don't want to think that people will try to hurt you because of -" he caught himself before the word could slip out, but Steve could hear the silent 'me' that hovered unspoken between them. "Because of us," Tony said instead. "I don't want you getting hurt at all but definitely not for that."
It was late enough that the streets were mostly empty, but even if they hadn't been, Steve would still have slid his arms around Tony's waist and pulled him closer, felt the tension in Tony's muscles as Steve propped his chin on Tony's shoulder. "I wasn't hurt. They've all three been arrested for assault - well, attempted assault," he qualified and he grinned as he heard Tony's genuine laugh, felt some of that tension ease beneath his hands even as Tony's arms tightened around him. "I don't care at all what people like that think, Tony. Not about me, or my choice in partners and I sure as hell don't care what they think about you."
"I care when they jump you in alleys," Tony said, but he didn't sound annoyed anymore. He sighed instead and his breath was warm and familiar against Steve's ear. "I heard it from Peter, Steve. He called to give me a heads up before the paparazzi descended or I'd have heard from a blood-thirsty hack that you'd been gay-bashed. Do you have any idea what that would have done to me?"
Steve could imagine that scene all too clearly. He could picture the reverse, and it made his stomach clench. "I should have called," he admitted ruefully. "I always forget about the paparazzi."
"They're usually not worth thinking about." Tony pulled back a little and ran a hand through his hair. "Not that I'm unhappy to see you or anything, but were you just hanging out, waiting for me to get done?"
"I thought we haven't had a date in a while," Steve said. "Not a real one, anyway, with just the two of us." He kept one hand at Tony's hip, his fingers hooked casually in the belt loop of Tony's pants. Tony liked being held on to, or at least he did when Steve was the one doing the holding. "I thought we could take the night off."
Tony brushed a thumb over Steve's cheek. "Just spontaneously?"
Not exactly spontaneous. He'd known how Tony would react to the news; had meant to be the one to tell him, but by the time he'd finished at the police station and checked his cell phone, it was nearly old news. He still forgot sometimes, how fast information moved in this world. "I thought you and I could spend the evening together. Just us. I packed a picnic basket."
"A picnic basket?" Tony's mouth curved upwards in a reflexive smile, then flickered and died as he saw the bulging saddlebags on the Harley. "Oh, hell no."
"Tony," Steve said.
"I own no fewer than thirty cars and you have access to all of them," Tony said. He was waving his hands around Steve's face, gesturing extravagantly, the way he did whenever he was trying very hard to impress upon someone just how dissatisfied he was with the situation. Steve had learned exactly when to dodge over the years. "Thirty cars, one of them an Aston Martin and all of them containing a minimum of four wheels and doors and a roof and you decided that is the ideal vehicle for our date?"
"I like my bike," Steve said.
"It's seventy years old!"
"I'm older than that and I still work just fine."
"You do work very well," Tony admitted, only a little grudgingly, and if his eyes flickered below Steve's belt, well, Steve was going to take that as a compliment. "But you are a person - a super person with super healing abilities and that is mechanized death."
"Tony-"
"Mechanized death," Tony repeated.
"I'm a very good driver," Steve said soothingly. "I have years of experience."
"You have three speeding tickets and two accidents in the last five years."
"Both of those were in the line of duty," Steve felt compelled to point out. "And you have way more speeding tickets than I do."
"Technically," Tony said, in that voice that meant he was going to beat that technicality into the ground, "my chauffeurs have more speeding tickets than you do. I was just in the car at the time."
"I can't believe you let Happy take the fall for you that time."
Tony gave him a dirty look. "I'll have you know he volunteered. And I can't believe you want me to perch precariously on the back of a death trap going ridiculous speeds along roadways full of drivers who at best won't see us coming and at worst may actively try to kill us."
"I'd never let anything happen to you." Steve hooked his fingers a little tighter through the belt loop. "I wouldn't. Never."
Tony froze in place, thrown off his guard by the sudden earnest sentiment. Steve liked that he could make Tony lose his step like that, that he could make the bold and blustery Tony Stark grind to a halt, but he'd like it more if he didn't suspect any honest affection would have the same effect on Tony, no matter who it was from.
"I'll drive extra slow," Steve said, "and use my turn signals and we'll be fine. Because I've been riding a motorcycle since nineteen-forty-three and I know how to be careful. Deal?"
"I don't have a helmet," Tony said.
Steve leaned up and kissed Tony's mouth. "Nice try," he said, "but I thought of that."
Tony leaned around Steve to take a long, hard look at the Harley - and the red and gold helmet sitting on the seat behind Steve's blue and silver one. "It's cold out."
"You can wear my jacket," Steve said, tugging Tony closer. "And you can sit very close and hold on very tight."
"I like holding on to you," Tony said, his voice a little raspy around the edges.
"Not as much as I like being held," Steve said. "Come with me? It's a bit of a ride, but I'll keep you warm and safe until we get there."
Tony narrowed his eyes. "Where are we going?"
Steve cupped his free hand around Tony's neck. "I rented a place outside the city. Just for the night. Just you and me and an otherwise empty house."
"And a picnic basket."
"With cake," Steve added, in case it helped his case. "Jarvis made a cake when I told him what I wanted to do."
Tony arched one eyebrow at him. "You told Jarvis you wanted to whisk me away on your portable murder machine so you could do wicked and debauched things to my body?"
"Yes," Steve said. "And he baked us a cake." He leaned in close, brushed his lips against Tony's ear, felt Tony's body shudder against his. "I have had terribly inappropriate thoughts about icing ever since."
"Jesus," Tony said. "Give me the helmet. Now."
"Are you sure?" Steve caught the lobe of Tony's ear between his teeth and tugged on it gently. "Because I know it's dangerous. We can just go home and watch TV with the team if you'd rather."
"You're a sadist," Tony said. "Get on that bike before I take your pants off."
Steve pulled Tony up against him, kissed him deep and hard and didn't care at all who saw.
Universe: Marvel Adventures
Pairing: Steve/Tony
Warnings: None
Summary: Captain America is riding motorcycles, wearing leather and punching people. Obviously he's under the bad influence of Tony Stark because we all know Captain America would never have done any of those things on his own! Wait, what?
Previous chapters can be found here: Sex Lies and Newsprint
Superhuman Star
Wild Child!
Leather jackets, motorcycles and public brawling aren't what most people think of when they consider superheroes. For any defender of justice and liberty, this kind of behavior would be frowned upon - if not flat-out inappropriate. But for Captain America, the first superhero, the epitome of heroism, it's almost inconceivable.
Yet that's exactly what happened earlier this week when Steve Rogers - sporting leather biking gear and roaming through the city on a vintage motorcycle - ended up in a very public fight with a group of college students outside a coffeeshop on Lexington.
No one was seriously hurt but the police were called to the scene and several arrests were made. The detective in charge of the case, Detective Josh Carlton of NYPD, declined to be interviewed for this article, but did issue a brief statement verifying that Captain America was involved in the altercation but was not under arrest had had returned home after giving his statement. While an arrest record would surely be embarrassing for the cofounder of the Avengers, this brush with the law doesn't seem to have calmed his behavior any.
Doctor Sylvia Ramsey, a behavioral psychologist who does not treat Captain America, offered several possible explanations for his recent behavior. "This could be a delayed adolescence," Dr. Ramsey explained. "Captain Rogers grew up during the Depression and was a young man during World War Two - both very stressful periods of history where everyone was called upon to act with responsibility and a sense of community. He never really had the chance to act out, rebel and sow his wild oats. Now, suddenly in a time and place of relative peace and prosperity, he has the chance to indulge a little and test the boundaries in a way he couldn't before."
Of course, that isn't the only explanation. "It is also possible that there is a negative or unhealthy influence in his life," Dr. Ramsey admitted.
A lot of people think they know exactly who that unhealthy influence is, too. Bad-boy billionaire Tony "Iron Man" Stark has been romantically linked to Captain America for the last few months and there is concern that this out-of-character behavior is the result. After all, Tony is no stranger to wild deeds.
In fact, that is exactly the sort of thing Tony used to be famous for. Since he sobered up, his penchant for public drunkenness, property damage and sexual scandals has dropped considerably. But the timing is too much to ignore.
"Cap's never been known for acting out or rabble-rousing," a SHIELD agent who wished to remain anonymous told us. "This is definitely Stark's influence and the old man knows it."
The "old man" is SHIELD director Nick Fury, who has more than earned his reputation as a no-nonsense, hard-edged administrator. Could his new wildness impact Captain America's job as an agent of SHIELD?
"He's Captain America," our inside agent tells us. "He's got a lot of credit built up. But SHIELD cannot afford a scandal and the old man never liked Stark much. If he thinks Stark is corrupting Cap, he might give Cap an ultimatum."
A career Captain Rogers loves or the man who may cause him to lose it all? Doesn't seem like such a tough choice to us! But people close to Captain America doubt he'll see it that way. Avengers teammate Luke Cage refused to be interviewed but stated firmly that Stark had a hold over Rogers that wasn't going to be easy to break. And our inside agent doesn't think Captain Rogers will be easy to convince. "Cap's a loyal sumbitch," our informant said. "The more people trash Stark, the more Cap'll stick with him."
****
Tony breezed out the front doors of Stark Industries like a man with everywhere to be, eyes hidden behind reflective sunglasses despite the late hour, his hair a little more tousled than usual. No sign of his entourage today; Pepper was still upstairs working, and Happy would be with her, Rhodey was in Malibu overseeing the testing of Tony's newest helicopter and the bodyguards had apparently been given the night off - or at least ordered to keep their distance. Sometimes the sheer number of people who trailed after Tony on a daily basis made Steve's head hurt. It made it easier to understand Tony's occasional periods of intense solitude.
He strode across the plaza toward the street where Steve was waiting, pushed the glasses down the length of his nose and glared at Steve over them. "All day long I have to hear about the high and mighty Captain Rogers brawling like a common street thug," he announced, voice carrying over the small distance between them. "All day I tell everyone who'll listen that it's just the tabloids and they shouldn't get too worked up about it." He stopped a few feet away from Steve, arms crossed firmly over his chest. "Imagine my surprise to hear it's true."
"It was hardly brawling," Steve said. He didn't move from his place, leaning against a cement pylon next to where he'd parked the Harley, though he did lift his shoulders in a small shrug. "And it wasn't anything to get worked up over."
Tony glared at him over the rim of the glasses. "All day, I tell everyone, hey, it can't be true. If Steve had been arrested I'd know about it. Because he's my boyfriend. He'd call me if something had happened." He swiped the glasses off and jabbed them at Steve for punctuation. "Because he's my boyfriend."
"I like it when you call me that," Steve said, not bothering to hide the fond smile on his face or keep the affection from his voice.
Tony rolled his eyes. "Oh, shut up, you cannot flatter me into calming down. You suck."
"I wasn't arrested," Steve said soothingly. "It wasn't a brawl. Nothing serious happened. If it had, I would have called you."
"Not calming down," Tony said, but his shoulders were already loosening up, his mouth was already losing the tired, stressed twist. He pointed at Steve with his shades again. "You still suck."
Steve snagged the shades away from Tony and slid them into his coat pocket before Tony could graduate to smacking him with them. He pushed away from the pylon and caught Tony by the arms, tugging him in close till there was only a few inches between them. "It wasn't a big deal."
Tony's lips pressed together into a thin, angry line. "They were homophobes. They lured you into that alley and they tried to bash you."
"Tried to," Steve said. "Tried. They were young and ignorant and not one of them a real fighter. I realized I'd been tricked before they got in the first swing. Tony, they didn't lay a hand on me."
"That doesn't make it all right," Tony said. He slumped a little against Steve's hold. "I don't want to think that people will try to hurt you because of -" he caught himself before the word could slip out, but Steve could hear the silent 'me' that hovered unspoken between them. "Because of us," Tony said instead. "I don't want you getting hurt at all but definitely not for that."
It was late enough that the streets were mostly empty, but even if they hadn't been, Steve would still have slid his arms around Tony's waist and pulled him closer, felt the tension in Tony's muscles as Steve propped his chin on Tony's shoulder. "I wasn't hurt. They've all three been arrested for assault - well, attempted assault," he qualified and he grinned as he heard Tony's genuine laugh, felt some of that tension ease beneath his hands even as Tony's arms tightened around him. "I don't care at all what people like that think, Tony. Not about me, or my choice in partners and I sure as hell don't care what they think about you."
"I care when they jump you in alleys," Tony said, but he didn't sound annoyed anymore. He sighed instead and his breath was warm and familiar against Steve's ear. "I heard it from Peter, Steve. He called to give me a heads up before the paparazzi descended or I'd have heard from a blood-thirsty hack that you'd been gay-bashed. Do you have any idea what that would have done to me?"
Steve could imagine that scene all too clearly. He could picture the reverse, and it made his stomach clench. "I should have called," he admitted ruefully. "I always forget about the paparazzi."
"They're usually not worth thinking about." Tony pulled back a little and ran a hand through his hair. "Not that I'm unhappy to see you or anything, but were you just hanging out, waiting for me to get done?"
"I thought we haven't had a date in a while," Steve said. "Not a real one, anyway, with just the two of us." He kept one hand at Tony's hip, his fingers hooked casually in the belt loop of Tony's pants. Tony liked being held on to, or at least he did when Steve was the one doing the holding. "I thought we could take the night off."
Tony brushed a thumb over Steve's cheek. "Just spontaneously?"
Not exactly spontaneous. He'd known how Tony would react to the news; had meant to be the one to tell him, but by the time he'd finished at the police station and checked his cell phone, it was nearly old news. He still forgot sometimes, how fast information moved in this world. "I thought you and I could spend the evening together. Just us. I packed a picnic basket."
"A picnic basket?" Tony's mouth curved upwards in a reflexive smile, then flickered and died as he saw the bulging saddlebags on the Harley. "Oh, hell no."
"Tony," Steve said.
"I own no fewer than thirty cars and you have access to all of them," Tony said. He was waving his hands around Steve's face, gesturing extravagantly, the way he did whenever he was trying very hard to impress upon someone just how dissatisfied he was with the situation. Steve had learned exactly when to dodge over the years. "Thirty cars, one of them an Aston Martin and all of them containing a minimum of four wheels and doors and a roof and you decided that is the ideal vehicle for our date?"
"I like my bike," Steve said.
"It's seventy years old!"
"I'm older than that and I still work just fine."
"You do work very well," Tony admitted, only a little grudgingly, and if his eyes flickered below Steve's belt, well, Steve was going to take that as a compliment. "But you are a person - a super person with super healing abilities and that is mechanized death."
"Tony-"
"Mechanized death," Tony repeated.
"I'm a very good driver," Steve said soothingly. "I have years of experience."
"You have three speeding tickets and two accidents in the last five years."
"Both of those were in the line of duty," Steve felt compelled to point out. "And you have way more speeding tickets than I do."
"Technically," Tony said, in that voice that meant he was going to beat that technicality into the ground, "my chauffeurs have more speeding tickets than you do. I was just in the car at the time."
"I can't believe you let Happy take the fall for you that time."
Tony gave him a dirty look. "I'll have you know he volunteered. And I can't believe you want me to perch precariously on the back of a death trap going ridiculous speeds along roadways full of drivers who at best won't see us coming and at worst may actively try to kill us."
"I'd never let anything happen to you." Steve hooked his fingers a little tighter through the belt loop. "I wouldn't. Never."
Tony froze in place, thrown off his guard by the sudden earnest sentiment. Steve liked that he could make Tony lose his step like that, that he could make the bold and blustery Tony Stark grind to a halt, but he'd like it more if he didn't suspect any honest affection would have the same effect on Tony, no matter who it was from.
"I'll drive extra slow," Steve said, "and use my turn signals and we'll be fine. Because I've been riding a motorcycle since nineteen-forty-three and I know how to be careful. Deal?"
"I don't have a helmet," Tony said.
Steve leaned up and kissed Tony's mouth. "Nice try," he said, "but I thought of that."
Tony leaned around Steve to take a long, hard look at the Harley - and the red and gold helmet sitting on the seat behind Steve's blue and silver one. "It's cold out."
"You can wear my jacket," Steve said, tugging Tony closer. "And you can sit very close and hold on very tight."
"I like holding on to you," Tony said, his voice a little raspy around the edges.
"Not as much as I like being held," Steve said. "Come with me? It's a bit of a ride, but I'll keep you warm and safe until we get there."
Tony narrowed his eyes. "Where are we going?"
Steve cupped his free hand around Tony's neck. "I rented a place outside the city. Just for the night. Just you and me and an otherwise empty house."
"And a picnic basket."
"With cake," Steve added, in case it helped his case. "Jarvis made a cake when I told him what I wanted to do."
Tony arched one eyebrow at him. "You told Jarvis you wanted to whisk me away on your portable murder machine so you could do wicked and debauched things to my body?"
"Yes," Steve said. "And he baked us a cake." He leaned in close, brushed his lips against Tony's ear, felt Tony's body shudder against his. "I have had terribly inappropriate thoughts about icing ever since."
"Jesus," Tony said. "Give me the helmet. Now."
"Are you sure?" Steve caught the lobe of Tony's ear between his teeth and tugged on it gently. "Because I know it's dangerous. We can just go home and watch TV with the team if you'd rather."
"You're a sadist," Tony said. "Get on that bike before I take your pants off."
Steve pulled Tony up against him, kissed him deep and hard and didn't care at all who saw.