can someone else write this for me?
Steve/Maria/Pepper/Tony sedoretu, with Civil War done properly (an emphasis on responsibilities of power and not just individual freedoms).
*sigh*
I kind of want to write this, but I kind of want someone else to write this. Only I want them to write this like I would write this.
The sweat isn't even dry on Stark's skin before he's reaching for his pants and dragging them on.
Steve resists the urge to put a hand on the other man's back, to pull him back into the bed and demand acknowledgement of what they just did. But shame fills him as he eases himself out from the too-smooth sheets, off the too-soft mattress. Maybe Tony's relationship with Miss Potts really is an open one, but Steve is feeling uneasy.
Howard would bend the truth if it got him the result he wanted. It was a deplorable habit of the genius industrialist, and Steve corrected it when he could. But they were in the midst of a war back then, and the other man had his genius and his reasons.
But this isn't war, even if their conflicts with each other during the Chitauri crisis felt bruising as any punch.
This is personal.
"So, there's drinks in the friggie," Stark says as he pulls his t-shirt over his head. The tone is casual as if Steve just walked into his personal domain. "Help yourself. If you need something more substantial, there's a cafe downstairs. Don't ask what they make; I don't know."
Steve's fists clench briefly. The casual dismissal is stinging as a graze, but he'll be damned before he lets Stark see how it hurts. After all, he let the other man make it personal, wanting a connection in this mad future that holds everything Steve dreamed of and so little that he hoped for.
"You're welcome," he says, and regrets the note of mockery, lowering himself to Stark's level.
The other man turns, almost at the door, almost startled. A high flush marks his cheekbones as he looks at Steve naked in the bed, but all he says is, "Always a pleasure, Rogers."
Then he's gone, leaving Steve to gather up his clothing in the welter of sweat and semen, and to parse through what he's done in a moment of madness.
--
IDK. T/S is not and has never been my thing, either in comics (like I cared back when I read comics) or in the movies. And I can't see them being comfortable and easy the way I see Steve/Bucky working - that shared history and commonality keeping them in harmony. So it's always going to start with snark and regrets, with any kind of tenderness/affection skimming around the edges and complicated.
*sigh*
No idea if I'm going to finish this one or go for an easier option.
*sigh*
I kind of want to write this, but I kind of want someone else to write this. Only I want them to write this like I would write this.
The sweat isn't even dry on Stark's skin before he's reaching for his pants and dragging them on.
Steve resists the urge to put a hand on the other man's back, to pull him back into the bed and demand acknowledgement of what they just did. But shame fills him as he eases himself out from the too-smooth sheets, off the too-soft mattress. Maybe Tony's relationship with Miss Potts really is an open one, but Steve is feeling uneasy.
Howard would bend the truth if it got him the result he wanted. It was a deplorable habit of the genius industrialist, and Steve corrected it when he could. But they were in the midst of a war back then, and the other man had his genius and his reasons.
But this isn't war, even if their conflicts with each other during the Chitauri crisis felt bruising as any punch.
This is personal.
"So, there's drinks in the friggie," Stark says as he pulls his t-shirt over his head. The tone is casual as if Steve just walked into his personal domain. "Help yourself. If you need something more substantial, there's a cafe downstairs. Don't ask what they make; I don't know."
Steve's fists clench briefly. The casual dismissal is stinging as a graze, but he'll be damned before he lets Stark see how it hurts. After all, he let the other man make it personal, wanting a connection in this mad future that holds everything Steve dreamed of and so little that he hoped for.
"You're welcome," he says, and regrets the note of mockery, lowering himself to Stark's level.
The other man turns, almost at the door, almost startled. A high flush marks his cheekbones as he looks at Steve naked in the bed, but all he says is, "Always a pleasure, Rogers."
Then he's gone, leaving Steve to gather up his clothing in the welter of sweat and semen, and to parse through what he's done in a moment of madness.
--
IDK. T/S is not and has never been my thing, either in comics (like I cared back when I read comics) or in the movies. And I can't see them being comfortable and easy the way I see Steve/Bucky working - that shared history and commonality keeping them in harmony. So it's always going to start with snark and regrets, with any kind of tenderness/affection skimming around the edges and complicated.
*sigh*
No idea if I'm going to finish this one or go for an easier option.