If there's ever to be a time where Tony Stark is hushed by being given just what he wants, it's now. He can feel Thor's worry, but more than just the connection of electric flow that exists between them, it's the way that Thor gives in when he has every ability not to that makes the playboy -- former playboy? -- recoil. His hand tightens over his stomach as something moves against it and he glances down, snorting
( ... )
After Thor climbs him and drops down behind him to take up his favorite pastime, Tony is silent for a good ten minutes more. He listens to Thor's heart and pays attention to the stroke of his hands on his belly. A good orgasm leaves him without need to speak and yes, right now, Thor is the only one that can prompt silence that is not brought on by sleep.
The ache of the child and the cold floor, however, do not allow for Tony to stay still, or stay quiet, for all that much longer when that is finished.
He twitches until Thor gets the point and helps him up and just as Tony begins to do his pants up, a shadow appears and disappears outside the glass doors of the workshop.
"Jarvis?" Tony asks, eyebrow arched.
"Steve Rogers to see you, sir."
It makes Tony laugh. Steve has still been the only man to walk in on them like this.
"You deal with him. The Princess and I are going to collapse on the sofa and await our apples."
Thor does not know why he enjoys it so that Stark refers to their child as The Princess, but it does. He presses a final kiss to Stark's shoulder and moves to intercept Steve-- no, the man cannot see Stark. Who will argue with a god? Rogers does not.
But they go out together and walk to find apples and by the end of the journey have come up with a solution to Steve's question. And the fevered promise that next time he will knock before showing up, though Thor assures him that he does not mind. Rogers seems to, however.
Thor brings the apples to Tony; straight from a farmer's market there is an entire bushel of them, and the wooden crate is sat down at the foot of the couch. They will not be as good as Idunn's, of course, but they smell ripe and sweet.
There are some perks to this, like foot rubs and being weighted on by someone Tony has never thought of as beautiful, but who has an infectious smile and eyes as clear as the sky just before the storm. And Tony loves him, something he'll never say and something he never expects to hear from the Thunderer's lips, but it's true just the same and in these quiet moments, Tony is happy and content even with forty extra pounds that are not his suit resting in one location on his body.
He asks after Thor's visit and listens halfway to interject questions, not because he is an avid listener but because he wants to know it, to see the spires, to taste those apples in Idunn's orchard, to watch their child run on the golden grass there.
He doesn't expect any of that to happen either but he doesn't mind. The dreams are good enough and the apples here are crisp and Tony naps with Thor's hands on him from the moment he closes his eyes until he opens them again.
There's something wrong and Tony knows it but he sits up in bed and does not have
( ... )
Thor feels it. A bright, sharp note of discord in a world coming down. The swing of his hammer misses his foe completely and he is hit from behind through the plate glass front window of a nearby building. A blaze of red, white and blue finishes off his following attacker as Thor climbs to his feet.
It is dark. The city, is dark-- except where fires have started. Steve still looks bright-eyed, but the fight is far from over.
It does not matter. This fight does not matter. Not when Thor had felt that invisible string snap and pitch. "I have to go." He climbs out of the glass and debris.
"Thor--"
"Steve, it is Stark. I have to go."
Steve is grim-faced but he nods nonetheless, raising his shield with a determination. Thor puts a hand on the man's shoulder just for a moment before he takes off into the sky.
Stark tower shivers as Thor touches his feet to the floor. The darkness is ominous. "Stark!"
Tony's been staring into the darkness, at a shimmer of green and a Cheshire Cat smile for several long minutes, no matter the pain, no matter what he's trying to do with the fuse box. Thor's bellow of his name causes him to turn towards the blond and the snake-like whispers stop. Tony forgets all about them.
"Want to tell me what's going on?"
Under attack and he wasn't even woken? Sure, he's close to term but Jesus, he can work the monitors just fine from the sofa and--
A high pitched sound whirls through the air and Tony blanches. Something's just left what sounds like a bomb in the building. Close by.
Thor is relieved to find Stark here and well. "We were all elsewhere when it happened, but Steve--"
Then the whir and wind-up of a sound that Thor knows too well. He moves the last few feet to Stark in blind panic, devotion, moves, to cover the man's body with his own, turning his back to what will come and wrapping his arms protectively around the figure in front of him.
The explosion is sound and pressure first, a shock-wave of concussive force. The heat follows.
Thor is a steel plate. He is solid and withstands the blow far better than his flooring and the windows do. Tony's not even concerned for the god he's landed under, groaning, but he is rather annoyed that the baby's "royal nursery" has just been brought to the top of the list for renovating.
Can't the bad guys ever learn? Ever? What did Tony do to piss them off enough to ruin all of his stuff? It's bad enough that Thor is a butterfingers at best and--
The pain that Stark feels is not from the impact. Not even from Thor falling on him. There's just something wrong. No. Not wrong. It's actually fairly normal, but Tony has no where for his water to burst into and it's beyond uncomfortable.
"Thor--" He growls it, a warning under his breath. "Thor-- Do not be dead, Thor, I need you for once!"
Thor shakes his head and retreats from Stark's form, pulling the other man up as he goes. There is rubble in his hair but he is given a soft laugh. "I will not die." The mirth fades into concern and Thor ignores the demolition for Stark, touching a cut on his cheek and then putting a hand on his stomach. "Are you well?"
Tony winces at the touch and turns his face away. He doesn't need to be coddled. He needs something to bite into. His fingernails press into the underside of Thor's wrist and he exhals, dark eyes finding light even in the blackness of the room. "She's coming. Like now. So could you do me a favor and call the car around while I pack a bag?" Only Tony would joke like this at a time like this.
There is nothing said to the pressure of Stark's fingers; it does not hurt Thor. It does, however, concern him. Stark is never a man to complain about physical discomforts and the silence that goes with the display-- instead of some jocular brush-off-- worries him. Worries him enough to make a decision that he had not truly touched on with Stark before. Humans and hospitals... ever since his first trip to Midgard, Thor has had no trust in them, their dumbfounded curiosity and their obvious desire to make Stark an experiment. At this last moment, with a fight raging too close to the precious thing they have made together, it makes the difference. Thor wraps one arm around Stark-- odd, perhaps, their noses close
( ... )
"Wa--" Tony is dumbfounded, staring over Thor's shoulder with jaw slack and mouth agape. His eyes move towards the large, white eyed god in armor and his lips peel up. What the hell happened? The moment crushes back on him with the rush of a contraction he can not possibly have and as he grits his teeth and sucks in the pain, it allows him to his a soft: "You're an idiot," to Thor and a "put me down, I can walk
( ... )
Heimdall is silent as Thor easily bends to Stark's wishes as they crash and then ebb. If seeing his prince jump so at another man's orders-- or seeing a human male here, and swelled as large as any soon-to-be mother-- is any matter to him, he does not say.
If he can see where their road leads, that too, he holds silent.
Thor picks Stark up easily, completely this time behind his back and under his legs, as if he were an injured comrade. He can feel the heaviness of the man's stomach press against him and without even a single glance more spared to the armored god, Thor is moving, and quickly. He takes the less-used paths through his father's palace only when they will not cost him precious time and does not even stop to acknowledge the maiden who watches his mother's door when she gives a startled cry at how he throws the door open.
"I'm really not dressed for meeting your mother," Tony says, his forehead and shirt soaked with sweat. He's trying so hard to play this off like it's nothing. He's trying not to make Thor worry, because he knows that look. He's seen it before when they're about to be in for a world of hurt. Or when they thought Natasha was dead, buried under rubble. The Thunderer's eyes are clouded as he carries Tony to a woman, beautiful and tall and done up in gold. The splendor of this place, of Thor's mother, or the palace and the poor lady still fretting is lost on him for the moment, however.
And how unfortunate that is. Maybe he'll have time to ask a few questions before this kills him? Or maybe Thor can take their little princess to the golden orchards after they kick his body back to Earth?
It's a morbid thought but it keeps him laughing.
"Thor, set him down here," the goddess tells the large, armored man and has her lady help her sweep the furs from the bed.
Frigga does not spare words to comment at the look in her son's eyes any more than Stark does, but surely she sees it just as well. If Stark can feel anything from the bond between he and Thor over the pain-- which the god receives as an alarming tightness in his chest-- it is something too calm. Brittle, instead of strong.
He is worried. Standing, will always stand, but worried. And it is not just for the child.
Thor puts Tony down on the bed his mother keeps alone (here where Odin would not even come, this is not the place they share but hers only) without any thought except for his burden. He hovers over Stark, unsure of what to do but unwilling to step away.
A cool and calming hand to Tony's forehead leaves the human hushed a bit, his face less contorted, and the sigh that escapes his lips only a brief whimper of pain. Frigga turns to her son and gives him what is meant to be a reassuring smile. Tony is in good hands. The best hands. Thor must realize this.
The child will not be of her blood, but she will be her family, her grand daughter and these things are worth doing one's best for. "You will need to leave," she says to Thor only to have Tony immediately try to sit up again.
"What? No, no, I'm fine and he has to stay--"
Frigga's handmaid is quick to sooth him again. He needs to stay calm. It's impossible with the worry filling him and his own amplified. "It will take some time. I will have you called for the moment your child has arrived. Resting will be the best thing for you both."
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The ache of the child and the cold floor, however, do not allow for Tony to stay still, or stay quiet, for all that much longer when that is finished.
He twitches until Thor gets the point and helps him up and just as Tony begins to do his pants up, a shadow appears and disappears outside the glass doors of the workshop.
"Jarvis?" Tony asks, eyebrow arched.
"Steve Rogers to see you, sir."
It makes Tony laugh. Steve has still been the only man to walk in on them like this.
"You deal with him. The Princess and I are going to collapse on the sofa and await our apples."
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But they go out together and walk to find apples and by the end of the journey have come up with a solution to Steve's question. And the fevered promise that next time he will knock before showing up, though Thor assures him that he does not mind. Rogers seems to, however.
Thor brings the apples to Tony; straight from a farmer's market there is an entire bushel of them, and the wooden crate is sat down at the foot of the couch. They will not be as good as Idunn's, of course, but they smell ripe and sweet.
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He asks after Thor's visit and listens halfway to interject questions, not because he is an avid listener but because he wants to know it, to see the spires, to taste those apples in Idunn's orchard, to watch their child run on the golden grass there.
He doesn't expect any of that to happen either but he doesn't mind. The dreams are good enough and the apples here are crisp and Tony naps with Thor's hands on him from the moment he closes his eyes until he opens them again.
There's something wrong and Tony knows it but he sits up in bed and does not have ( ... )
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It is dark. The city, is dark-- except where fires have started. Steve still looks bright-eyed, but the fight is far from over.
It does not matter. This fight does not matter. Not when Thor had felt that invisible string snap and pitch. "I have to go." He climbs out of the glass and debris.
"Thor--"
"Steve, it is Stark. I have to go."
Steve is grim-faced but he nods nonetheless, raising his shield with a determination. Thor puts a hand on the man's shoulder just for a moment before he takes off into the sky.
Stark tower shivers as Thor touches his feet to the floor. The darkness is ominous. "Stark!"
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Tony's been staring into the darkness, at a shimmer of green and a Cheshire Cat smile for several long minutes, no matter the pain, no matter what he's trying to do with the fuse box. Thor's bellow of his name causes him to turn towards the blond and the snake-like whispers stop. Tony forgets all about them.
"Want to tell me what's going on?"
Under attack and he wasn't even woken? Sure, he's close to term but Jesus, he can work the monitors just fine from the sofa and--
A high pitched sound whirls through the air and Tony blanches. Something's just left what sounds like a bomb in the building. Close by.
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Thor is relieved to find Stark here and well. "We were all elsewhere when it happened, but Steve--"
Then the whir and wind-up of a sound that Thor knows too well. He moves the last few feet to Stark in blind panic, devotion, moves, to cover the man's body with his own, turning his back to what will come and wrapping his arms protectively around the figure in front of him.
The explosion is sound and pressure first, a shock-wave of concussive force. The heat follows.
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Can't the bad guys ever learn? Ever? What did Tony do to piss them off enough to ruin all of his stuff? It's bad enough that Thor is a butterfingers at best and--
The pain that Stark feels is not from the impact. Not even from Thor falling on him. There's just something wrong. No. Not wrong. It's actually fairly normal, but Tony has no where for his water to burst into and it's beyond uncomfortable.
"Thor--" He growls it, a warning under his breath. "Thor-- Do not be dead, Thor, I need you for once!"
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If he can see where their road leads, that too, he holds silent.
Thor picks Stark up easily, completely this time behind his back and under his legs, as if he were an injured comrade. He can feel the heaviness of the man's stomach press against him and without even a single glance more spared to the armored god, Thor is moving, and quickly. He takes the less-used paths through his father's palace only when they will not cost him precious time and does not even stop to acknowledge the maiden who watches his mother's door when she gives a startled cry at how he throws the door open.
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And how unfortunate that is. Maybe he'll have time to ask a few questions before this kills him? Or maybe Thor can take their little princess to the golden orchards after they kick his body back to Earth?
It's a morbid thought but it keeps him laughing.
"Thor, set him down here," the goddess tells the large, armored man and has her lady help her sweep the furs from the bed.
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He is worried. Standing, will always stand, but worried. And it is not just for the child.
Thor puts Tony down on the bed his mother keeps alone (here where Odin would not even come, this is not the place they share but hers only) without any thought except for his burden. He hovers over Stark, unsure of what to do but unwilling to step away.
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The child will not be of her blood, but she will be her family, her grand daughter and these things are worth doing one's best for. "You will need to leave," she says to Thor only to have Tony immediately try to sit up again.
"What? No, no, I'm fine and he has to stay--"
Frigga's handmaid is quick to sooth him again. He needs to stay calm. It's impossible with the worry filling him and his own amplified. "It will take some time. I will have you called for the moment your child has arrived. Resting will be the best thing for you both."
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