Fanfiction: Falling In A Literal Sense
Title: Falling In A Literal Sense
Author: bendingwind
Notes: [ Marvel | PG-13 | 800 words ]
Characters: Steve/Tony
Summary: In which Tony is, well, kind of an idiot about feelings. Except when he isn't.
Falling in love is a little different each time. Tony should know; he falls in and out of love like dolphins leaping out of the sea, or some other shit metaphor (he’s a scientist, okay).
And, okay, Tony’s a pro at love, he does love all the time, he gets it. He’s as familiar with that slow rise of affection and warmth and belonging as he is with the hot rush of lust and a one-off tumble in the sheets. He knows what it’s like to love and not be loved in return. He knows what it’s like to be loved by someone he doesn’t love, and he knows what it’s like to properly be in love, like something out of a fucking fairytale, and he even knows what it’s like to hate someone so much you love them.
He’s going to blame the fact that he didn’t pick up on what he was feeling for Steve on the fact that falling in love with him is an entirely new and unexpected occurrence, and also it felt a bit like itching.
If he’s going to have to suffer this indignity there ought to at least be a Grand Revelation with, like, halos of light or whatever. Instead, he blinks back into consciousness and is blinded by ugly fluorescent lights for a full thirty seconds before his eyes focus on Steve, hovering above him. It’s like something out of a movie, he thinks, and a slightly hysterical giggle works its way up his throat. The stabbing pain in his ribs reminds him that he’s injured, and wouldn’t he be the tragic hero who nearly escaped death in this scenario? It would totally be worth it to move into some horrifying cliché if it meant getting to wake up to Steve like this all the time, Tony thinks with a strangely familiar sense of fond belonging.
Oh. That’s how it is, then. Well, it isn’t the first time Tony’s fallen inconveniently in love, and he’s awesome enough that he can keep it to himself and not, well, bother anyone with those feelings. Also, it goes a long way towards explaining the very hot dreams he’d been chalking up to... friendly appreciation.
“Ow,” he says, because he is a very eloquent man.
“You jumped in front of a projectile nearing the speed of sound. I hope you feel it,” Steve says, flatly. Tony tries to shift, and sure enough:
“Ow,” he repeats.
Steve only crosses his arms and leans back against the hospital-issue chair he has apparently taken up post in.
“Did I just happen to wake up on your shift, or have you really been waiting here like a lovesick heroine?” Tony asks, because, well, he’s kind of an asshole. Also, everything hurts.
“I’ve been waiting. You weren’t out that long, just a couple of hours,” Steve says, his voice heavy with Patented Captain America Disapproval. “You got extremely lucky for someone who decided it was worth what should have been certain death just to speed up a battle.”
“Hey, my show’s on at six, I didn’t want to miss it,” Tony says, trying for lighthearted. Actually his scanners had picked up energy readings indicating that the jet was about to blast Steve with one of its nasty energy rays, and it had been the only way to stop it fast enough to save Steve.
In retrospect, it should have been really obvious to him that he was in love with his best friend. Tony really ought to try that whole introspection thing more often, or maybe hire a therapist.
Steve is scowling down at him.
“Oh, damn, I guess I missed it anyway, huh? Do you think Natasha would have recorded it for me?”
“Tony,” he says, and Steve is leaning over the bed again. As far as sudden self-revelations go, this one kind of sucks, because now Tony’s fixating on Steve’s lips in a way that he probably would have the day before, but at least he wouldn’t have worried so much about it.
Also the lips seem to be getting awfully close.
And then Steve is kissing him, which, woah. He can do this, he is a rockstar of kissing, he’ll just--
Steve pulls away. “JARVIS told me why you did it,” he admits. “And I’m pretty sure you just realized something that I’ve known for months, but if I’m wrong, uh...”
“You’re not wrong!” Tony blurts out because, well.
It’s not every day you get to make out with Captain America, and also--“Can we do less with the talking and more with the kissing?” he asks, shooting a plaintive look up at Steve. Because this, Tony knows how to do. He knows how to love, with every fiber of his being, and hey--maybe this time he can make it work.
It’s worth a shot, anyway.
Disclaimer: Owned by Marvel, not making any profit from this work of fanfiction, etc.
Author: bendingwind
Notes: [ Marvel | PG-13 | 800 words ]
Characters: Steve/Tony
Summary: In which Tony is, well, kind of an idiot about feelings. Except when he isn't.
Falling in love is a little different each time. Tony should know; he falls in and out of love like dolphins leaping out of the sea, or some other shit metaphor (he’s a scientist, okay).
And, okay, Tony’s a pro at love, he does love all the time, he gets it. He’s as familiar with that slow rise of affection and warmth and belonging as he is with the hot rush of lust and a one-off tumble in the sheets. He knows what it’s like to love and not be loved in return. He knows what it’s like to be loved by someone he doesn’t love, and he knows what it’s like to properly be in love, like something out of a fucking fairytale, and he even knows what it’s like to hate someone so much you love them.
He’s going to blame the fact that he didn’t pick up on what he was feeling for Steve on the fact that falling in love with him is an entirely new and unexpected occurrence, and also it felt a bit like itching.
If he’s going to have to suffer this indignity there ought to at least be a Grand Revelation with, like, halos of light or whatever. Instead, he blinks back into consciousness and is blinded by ugly fluorescent lights for a full thirty seconds before his eyes focus on Steve, hovering above him. It’s like something out of a movie, he thinks, and a slightly hysterical giggle works its way up his throat. The stabbing pain in his ribs reminds him that he’s injured, and wouldn’t he be the tragic hero who nearly escaped death in this scenario? It would totally be worth it to move into some horrifying cliché if it meant getting to wake up to Steve like this all the time, Tony thinks with a strangely familiar sense of fond belonging.
Oh. That’s how it is, then. Well, it isn’t the first time Tony’s fallen inconveniently in love, and he’s awesome enough that he can keep it to himself and not, well, bother anyone with those feelings. Also, it goes a long way towards explaining the very hot dreams he’d been chalking up to... friendly appreciation.
“Ow,” he says, because he is a very eloquent man.
“You jumped in front of a projectile nearing the speed of sound. I hope you feel it,” Steve says, flatly. Tony tries to shift, and sure enough:
“Ow,” he repeats.
Steve only crosses his arms and leans back against the hospital-issue chair he has apparently taken up post in.
“Did I just happen to wake up on your shift, or have you really been waiting here like a lovesick heroine?” Tony asks, because, well, he’s kind of an asshole. Also, everything hurts.
“I’ve been waiting. You weren’t out that long, just a couple of hours,” Steve says, his voice heavy with Patented Captain America Disapproval. “You got extremely lucky for someone who decided it was worth what should have been certain death just to speed up a battle.”
“Hey, my show’s on at six, I didn’t want to miss it,” Tony says, trying for lighthearted. Actually his scanners had picked up energy readings indicating that the jet was about to blast Steve with one of its nasty energy rays, and it had been the only way to stop it fast enough to save Steve.
In retrospect, it should have been really obvious to him that he was in love with his best friend. Tony really ought to try that whole introspection thing more often, or maybe hire a therapist.
Steve is scowling down at him.
“Oh, damn, I guess I missed it anyway, huh? Do you think Natasha would have recorded it for me?”
“Tony,” he says, and Steve is leaning over the bed again. As far as sudden self-revelations go, this one kind of sucks, because now Tony’s fixating on Steve’s lips in a way that he probably would have the day before, but at least he wouldn’t have worried so much about it.
Also the lips seem to be getting awfully close.
And then Steve is kissing him, which, woah. He can do this, he is a rockstar of kissing, he’ll just--
Steve pulls away. “JARVIS told me why you did it,” he admits. “And I’m pretty sure you just realized something that I’ve known for months, but if I’m wrong, uh...”
“You’re not wrong!” Tony blurts out because, well.
It’s not every day you get to make out with Captain America, and also--“Can we do less with the talking and more with the kissing?” he asks, shooting a plaintive look up at Steve. Because this, Tony knows how to do. He knows how to love, with every fiber of his being, and hey--maybe this time he can make it work.
It’s worth a shot, anyway.
Disclaimer: Owned by Marvel, not making any profit from this work of fanfiction, etc.