Absorb, Adapt, Attack!
Title: Absorb, Adapt, Attack!
Fandom: Avengers, Avengers: Earth’s Mightiest Heroes
Rating: G
Characters/pairings: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Clint Barton
Warnings (including spoilers): Spoilers for the kitchen scene and the boxing scene in S1E17 The Man Who Stole Tomorrow
Wordcount: 1,123 words
Author’s note: Written for AngeNoir, as a treat for yuletide. What luck! I was browsing casually through the 380 pages of requests, as you do, when I came across this lovely prompt: ‘Tony wants to be better, he does, but he can’t get past the fact that Hulk and Hawkeye like to make fun of him when he tries. Steve gets that, and so agrees to have quieter, private lessons with him’ Combined with the comment about how the training scene might feel like deliberate humiliation to Tony, this got me thinking about ways these two fighters could learn from each other’s methods. I hope you enjoy what your words have inspired!
Summary: After thinking about what went wrong during his hand-to-hand lesson with Tony, Steve tries again. Maybe this time, they can both learn something.
~~~~~
It’s early on a Tuesday, about two weeks after their first disastrous attempt at a hand-to-hand lesson, when Steve shows up to Tony’s workshop. He stops outside the door before he enters in order to review his strategy.
Tony’s reaction to criticism, to being told he’s doing something wrong, is to get defensive and argue. Last time, Steve had tried to make Tony angry enough to try and prove him wrong. That method had backfired, and having Clint and Hulk laughing at Tony’s failure had only made the self-proclaimed futurist retreat into what he knew: engineering and the Iron Man suits. This time needed to be different.
‘Patience, methodology, praise,’ Steve repeats to himself. ‘It was hard enough convincing him to try fighting again. I might not get another chance.'
He enters Tony’s workshop. Jarvis announces his presence, and Steve smiles at his team leader when Tony turns around on his stool to greet him.
“Hey Cap,” says Tony.
“Good afternoon, Tony. Are you ready for our practice?”
“About that.” Tony is fiddling with a screwdriver. On the workbench in front of him, something complicated-looking with lots of wires is laid out in a form of organized chaos. “My day is booked pretty much solid. Is there any way we could postpone?”
He sounds sincere and apologetic, but he’s started scratching the back of his neck, and he won’t meet Steve’s eyes.
‘Time for some diplomacy.'
“That’s too bad,” Steve says, letting disappointment show in his voice. “I was looking forward to sparring with you. You’ve got potential, Tony.”
Tony looks up at him in shock, his golden eyes wide. “You were? I do?”
“Sure,” Steve tells him. “In fact, I was going to ask if you wanted to move our practice down to the lower levels. Not that I don’t like the gym,” he says, putting up a hand as if to preempt any protest, “but our teammates can be a bit of a distraction at times, and I’d prefer to focus on you.”
Tony blinks a few times, his mouth hanging open slightly. Steve looks as guileless as he can, while secretly enjoying the knowledge that he can make Tony look so surprised and happy.
“Well,” Tony prevaricates, “it would be rude of me to back out. Considering I agreed. I guess I could… move some stuff around.”
Steve nods. “I’ll see you in five minutes.”
Several floors below the mansion, Steve deactivates the standard obstacle courses while he waits for Tony. When he does arrive, Tony looks nervous.
“We’re not going to, ah, interrupt anyone’s workout here, are we?” he asks. “I’d hate to get in someone’s way when they came to train.”
“No one is scheduled to use this course today, or the ones on either side,” Steve assures him. He’s glad he planned ahead when Tony immediately loses some tension in his neck.
“Oh, good.”
When they step into the ring, Steve puts his plan into place. Tony likes it when things are logical, orderly, so Steve begins by showing him a few common fighting stances and defences. “Think of it like you’re building something,” he suggests. “Every move builds on the one before it, and prepares you for the next attack or defence.”
Tony follows along, brow furrowed in concentration, like he’s trying to memorize everything Steve is saying and showing him. “You’re thinking too hard,” Steve tells him. “Here, I’ll show you. Punch me, slowly, and I’ll demonstrate the hold.”
Tony nods and throws a punch at about half speed. He does end up on the mat again, but this time, it’s from Steve’s carefully presented takedown, not brute force.
“I think I’ve got it,” he says after Steve helps him up. “Can I try?”
“Sure.” Steve attacks at the same speed Tony had, and with only a brief fumble, Tony brings him down to the mat.
“Well done,” Steve says, and Tony bounces a little bit on the mat.
As the practice goes on, Tony loosens up further. He learns quickly, and even starts asking questions that show off his intuitive grasp on kinetics. An hour after they began, Tony has learned without prompting to look at Steve’s body to predict his movements, and can defend himself from attacks at half-speed.
“This reminds me of dancing lessons,” he jokes at one point.
“The principle is similar,” Steve agrees.
Shifting out of the ready stance Steve had shown him earlier, Tony skips around to Steve’s flank in a graceful bound that looks like a fancy dance move. Steve laughs.
“That could come in handy,” he says earnestly.
Tony is about to reply, another joke if his grin is any indication, when the silence of the obstacle course is broken by the announcing tone of the intercom.
“If you two are done with your remedial ballroom lessons,” Clint teases, his voice echoing throughout the chamber, “lunch is ready. Better come upstairs before Hulk and Thor eat it all.'
“Don’t you have some mission briefings to read, Hawkeye?” Steve says harshly, but the damage is already done. Tony is taking off his gloves. His emotions are more than evident in his short, sharp movements, tense back and pink cheeks. Steve barely hears Clint’s confused “Roger that” and the intercom turning off as he tries to come up with a new plan on the fly.
“Don’t begrudge them a laugh or two,” Tony says over his shoulder. “I’m sure I’m pretty entertaining to those guys.”
Two weeks ago, Tony had been defiant when his teammates laughed at him. Today, he sounds defeated and bitter.
Steve steps in front of Tony before he can head for the door. “They’re wrong.” Tony’s frown is distrustful. Steve has never had to deal with someone with Tony’s exact combination of pride and sensitivity, but he thinks he’s learning. “You were right, before. Your armor-- your intelligence-- usually allows you to get the better of the people you fight. You’re so successful that you’ve never had to learn the sort of fighting that Clint, Hulk and I have learned. You’re simply fighting with a different kind of weapon, and there’s nothing to be ashamed of in that.”
Steve has gripped Tony’s shoulder in his still-padded hand and forced the futurist to meet his eyes. Tony still looks a bit disheartened, but the hurt is gone. “Thanks, Steve. I… maybe needed to hear that. And, thanks for the lesson. It was even kind of fun.” He shrugs.
“Glad I could help,” says Steve honestly. Then, he claps Tony around the shoulders and tugs them both toward the elevator. “Now, I’ve heard there’s a lunch spread in danger of demolishment. It sounds like a job for the Avengers.”
Tony snorts, but he’s smiling as they leave.