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Title: Lie Back and Think of America
Author: caitri
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Steve/Tony (Avengers)
Word Count: 4.671
Summary: Because times change. Movieverse. Beta’d by the awesomely awesome gadgetorious.
Disclaimer: I know this may come as a shock, but I am not, amazing as it may seem, Stan Lee or Marvel Comics.Just so you know.
A/N: For blue_jack! Happy birthday, bb! <3

Tony talks too much is the problem. The thing about having a genius billionaire philanthropist playboy for your best friend is you have to listen to him talk.

“So, Steve, I met this Italian model in Monaco over the weekend. Name’s Sofia, cute, right—tits like melons, hand to God!”

“Hey, Steve, you need to hit this club with me and Rhodey! All the girls there are natural, you get me?”

“Thank God for private jets, man, the Mile-High Club just isn’t the same if you gotta wait in line for a space smaller than a Brooklyn closet—”

“Hey, watch what you say about Brooklyn!” Steve jabs back out of habit, too annoyed to think straight (which is always the problem). He hopes his flush doesn’t show, glad he’s sitting on the plush, overstuffed couch in the common room that partially hides him from view, even with his height and bulk.

Tony looks amused, loosening his tie and tossing a slender briefcase on the coffeetable. He’s just got back from one of his business meetings, looks like. “Oh, I am sorry, I’d hate to cast aspersions on the storage spaces of New York’s finest borough, I’m sure. Unless,” and his smirk actually grows, like, it spreads across his face like butter on toast, “you’re implying something heretofore unknown about the size and capacity of certain closets.” And he eyes Steve with this smug proprietary look, and for a heartbeat, Steve wonders if he knows.

The other thing about having Tony Stark as his best friend is the little problem of maybe kinda sorta having a thing for the guy. Like Tony-has-this-magic-ability-to-make-Steve-feel-like-he’s-a-twelve-year-old-girl kinda thing. Steve’s had this problem before. He used to wonder if maybe it was just part of being a little guy, like the compromised immune system also meant he thought about guys That Way, but when that didn’t change after the experiment and all, he figured it was just part of who he was.

And the kicker is, this isn’t even the first time he’s had this particular problem, either. He was the same way with Bucky for years. At first he thought it was some kind of hero worship type thing, because he wanted to be Bucky as much as he wanted, well, other things from Bucky too. Sometimes it kept him up nights, worrying if Bucky knew, wondering what he could possibly say if Bucky ever said anything. But Buck never said anything, and neither did Steve, and there are times when Steve regrets that more than anything else.

Anyway. That was then, and this is now. Tony is as far from being like Bucky as it’s possible for a man to be: all obnoxious instead of polite, more cocky than cool, nonstop chatter instead of quiet. It drives Steve nuts, especially because Tony is, if anything, even more brilliant than Howard Stark was, and he does have a gift with people (though most of that time is in getting people to unite in wanting to throttle him, like that little ‘debate’ with Thor and Bruce the other night), and he does do nice things sometimes.

Like give his teammates rent-free places to live.

So yeah. Tony Stark drives Steve nuts in all the wrong ways, and he has to keep it cool.

Steve swallows his panic and slits his eyes, looking all apple pie and disapproving. He got to be real good at that onstage when he had to do the shtick about the guy too cheap to buy bonds. “Some of us are trying to work, Tony. Now shut up and let me get through this thing, okay?” He shifts his attention back to his computer, balanced in his lap.

It’s a tiny white thing called a laptop. Steve got to see an Enigma Machine once but it was more like a giant typewriter, nothing like this, with its gleaming screen and little keys. He’s very careful with it, half afraid he’ll accidentally smash it one way or another, and no telling how much it cost. Of course, Tony will tell him not to worry about it, it’s only money, but he never had to grow up like Steve did, saving up all the time and Ma’s kitchen smelling when she was canning stuff. Now Steve can walk down the street to a Stop & Shop and buy produce shipped in from across the world if he wants it, and pay two bucks for a bunch of bananas in March, but that freaks him out on multiple levels.

Anyway. Focusing. He bends down to the little screen, tapping away methodically, glad that at least typing hasn’t changed in seventy years.

“Steve, try the voice-rec program why don’tcha, it’s easier,” Tony says, and Steve freezes. “What are you working on, anyway?” He comes over to peer over Steve’s shoulder, close enough that Steve can smell his aftershave.

Steve works at keeping his voice even. He wishes that Tony wouldn’t invade his space like this, it’s really annoying. “Coulson gave me some homework. He said if I could figure out how to get onto the ‘Net’”—he emphasizes the word proudly—“and find something in the Encyclopedia he’d buy me pie in the caf at lunch tomorrow.”

Tony snorts, unimpressed, and wanders off. There’s the tell-tale sound of an icebox—of a fridge—opening and closing. “First off, it’s Wikipedia. Secondly, pie? Really? That’s what it takes to get you to try something new and different?”

Steve can feel his ears burning but focuses on the screen. “Hey, I like pie. Tomorrow’s chocolate-pecan day—Oh! Found it!” He can’t help sticking both fists in the air in victory.

“Look, Ma, no hands.” Tony proffers a bottle of cold beer, sweat beading on the green glass. Steve takes it. “I’m so proud.”

“Thanks. Hey, this is German,” he says after taking his first gulp. The label is emblazoned with Beck's. “Not that that matters anymore,” he adds belatedly.

“Here’s to allies and NATO,” Tony says, clinking their bottlenecks together in salute as he plops himself down onto the couch next to him. He sits close enough that their shoulders bump together, that Steve can feel the heat of his skin through the material of his now partially unbuttoned shirt. “Okay, you’ve found the greatest timesuck on the web outside of Tumblr. What next, hero?”

Steve stares at the empty search box. “Coulson said I could find anything I wanted on this—site.” It takes him a second to remember the word.

“Pretty much. Of course, most of it will be wrong. Well maybe not ‘wrong’ per say, more like misinformed—no, I think wrong’s a good way to put it,” Tony says in that too quick, too wordy way of his. “And maybe not all of it, but more than you’d want for any real research you’re doing. For God’s sake stay away from it if you’re doing anything with math or science, it’s what happens when the public education system fails in its task in a monumental way. But that only matters if you’re a librarian or something. Go ahead. Look something up.”

Steve feels his lips twitch in a grin of amusement, because when Tony gets on these half-manic rambles of his, it’s…cute. Kill. Me. Now. “Okay,” he says, taking a deep breath. “Tony…Stark.” He enunciates the words as he types them, and hits ENTER.

“Oh you have got to be kidding me.” Tony slumps down so that his head is somewhere in the vicinity of Steve’s elbow. “What did I ever do to you, Steve? Oh, hey, at least they picked a decent photo of me,” he says in an altogether different voice, smug and relieved.

The picture in question, inset to the right of the page, is more than decent. It’s taken from a New York Times Magazine profile from last year, the camera peering up at Tony as he looks into the distance. He has sunglasses on, hiding his eyes, and a crisp dark suit. His dark shirt is unbuttoned, exposing the top of his chest and the sprinkling of dark hair there. He looks rich and sleek and beautiful, everything Steve is not.

Keeping his voice light, Steve starts to read out loud over Tony’s disgusted protests. “‘The son of a wealthy industrialist and head of Stark Industries, Howard Stark, and Maria Stark, Anthony Edward Stark was born on Long Island.’” Steve snorts. “Well I guess that explains the crap about Brooklyn.”

“Where both angels and tomcats fear to tread.” Tony smirks.

“Not asking. ‘A boy genius’”—Steve refrains from laughing that someone used that phrase in real life— “he entered MIT at the age of fifteen to study electrical engineering and computer science.’ Wow,” he says more sincerely, “that’s impressive.”

“Damn right it is,” Tony says mulishly, but Steve can tell he’s at least partially mollified.

“‘Stark has been the CEO and head of Stark Industries since the age of eighteen. He has appeared six times in People Magazine’s Sexiest Bachelors List.’”

“Only six? I’m insulted!” Judging by the smugness in his tone, Steve doubts that.

“Right,” he says, drawing the world out long and looking down to face Tony directly. Tony has slumped down further in his seat, so low that his torso is parallel to Steve’s legs, his head by Steve’s hip. “Right,” he says again, more quietly. In a normal tone of voice, he continues, “‘Tony Stark has been linked romantically with Daily Bugle reporter Christine Everhart, entrepreneur Sunset Bane, and”—Steve pauses for a moment—“Tiberius Stone of Stone Incorporated.’”

“Good ol’ Ty,” Tony says cheerfully, either unaware of or ignoring Steve’s bewilderment. “Wildcat in the boardroom, kitten in the sack. Precious, really.”

“I see,” Steve says, only he doesn’t.

Tony apparently can tell, because he peers up at him, looking directly into Steve’s eyes. Tony’s own are an astonishing shade of brown that reminds him of chocolate. Tony meets his gaze, and winks back solemnly. Steve shakes himself. “Um,” he says brilliantly.

“Um,” Tony echoes blankly. “Um, what?”

“Just, you know, ‘um.’” Steve looks away belatedly, staring at the computer screen, willing himself to think of something else to say. “Er.”

Tony laughs. “Er, um, uh,” he mocks. “Relax, soldier, Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell just got repealed.”

Steve blinks. “Don’t ask—what?”


“I feel like I’m in the middle of ‘Who’s on first?’” Steve mutters to himself. He very carefully puts the laptop aside and rubs his eyes. He really doesn’t like these glowing screens that are omnipresent these days, particularly here; they give him a headache, and Tony’s behavior isn’t helping. Louder, he says, “Could you just let me in on the joke or whatever? Assuming I even get it when you’ve explained it to me.” He pushes his back into the couch in a posture that is not remotely sulking, no it is not.

“Steve.” Tony’s voice is kind. “I know this is a kinda touchy topic for you and all, but the nice thing about it not being the 1940s anymore is that…it’s not the 1940s anymore. Okay? Most people are pretty fine with guys liking guys and everything.”

“Seriously?” Steve can’t quite keep the dubiousness out of his voice.

“Well.” Tony draws the word out long. “Judging by some of the stuff I’ve found on Pepper’s Blackberry, some people are more than fine with it.”

Steve stares at Tony, unable to think of anything to say. “I think I need another beer,” he says eventually.

“Coming up.” Tony collects their empty bottles and retreats to the kitchen. Steve can hear the sounds of him chucking the empties into the recycling bin and getting more bottles from the fridge. It’s only when another ice-cold bottle is pressed into his hand and the chill of it bites into his skin that he realizes that he’s way too warm, that his palms are sweating. He smiles at Tony in thanks, and maybe holds his gaze just a second longer than he should have, because the next thing Tony says is, “You okay, Steve?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Sure.” Steve licks his suddenly dry lips, feeling ridiculously awkward. It’s one thing to have an entire lifetime of belief pulled out from under you, it’s another to have it taken away by your best friend who you have a crush on and who, incidentally, has had sex with guys before. “I just—I can’t—” Get a grip, Rogers!

“Let me make this easy on you, Steve,” Tony says. “I like you. A lot. And I think you like me, too.” And he leans in, and kisses him.

Steve’s brain catches up sometime after Tony has slipped in his tongue. The thing is, Steve has imagined this moment—well, not this specific moment, but a moment kind of like it—since he was old enough for the hormones to start kicking in. He’d grown up with a steady diet from the pictures, Errol Flynn and every dashing hero ever, pencil mustaches and smirks, and when he allows himself to think about it, Tony Stark is not unlike some of his vague adolescent fantasies.

Tony’s hands are on his shoulders, holding him steady; the hint of five o’clock shadow scratches Steve’s chin; he tastes like dark beer.

Frankly, it’s kind of perfect.

“Um,” he says when it’s over, his breathing ragged.

Tony stares at him, seemingly nonplussed. “‘Um’? I must be losing my touch. Let’s do this again.” And then he’s kissing him again, hard, thoroughly, like he’s determined that Steve is going to learn from this or something.

Except the only thing he’s learning is that he doesn’t want it to stop.

There are lots of nice things about having enhanced upper body strength, and quite possibly the best one is how easy it is to shift Tony so that he is lying along the length of Steve’s body. Tony's breath hitches as he feels Steve’s budding erection, but rather than jerking away, he presses closely, grinding his own cock against Steve’s thigh.

Steve breaks the kiss, gasping for breath. “Oh boy.”

Tony is nuzzling his neck, fingers skimming the waistband of his trousers. “Bedroom?” he suggests helpfully.

“Yes, please.” His voice sounds strangled to his own ears.

Steve’s never done anything remotely like this before. And considering the danger magnets all of them appear to be, he’s not going to stop now. He can’t handle another Bucky.

Tony’s bedroom is on the second floor. It’s dominated by a giant bed, massive pillows and black sheets and a crisp white comforter. They all just look expensive, though if asked Steve could hardly articulate why or how, he can just tell. And of course it helps that everything Stark has is expensive.

“I feel like I should be carrying you across the threshold,” Tony says between kisses.

“Shut up,” Steve says.

“No, really, I mean it.” Tony almost sounds convincing as he unbuttons Steve’s shirt and pushes it off his shoulders. “Look at you,” he says like something marvelous has been unveiled, though it’s only Steve in his undershirt, plus the rest of his clothes. He kisses Steve again, gently this time, like he’s being very careful, like Steve is something wonderful.

It’s a very odd feeling. It makes Steve restless, questioning, but then he’s pulling Tony to the bed, because once he’s decided on a course of action, he’s not going to back out.

It’s odd undressing someone else, he decides. Undoing buttons take time, and he fumbles with eager, uncertain fingers at little plastic circles, one of which pops off the shirt and onto the floor somewhere. “Sorry,” he says quickly. “I’ll pay for it.”

Tony looks at him like he’s an idiot. “It’s a button, Steve. Relax. Pepper will find some way to fix it in the morning. She’s brilliant that way.”

“Right,” Steve says, jealousy flaring unexpectedly in his gut. “Sorry.”

Tony shakes his head. “You are such a brave little toaster. You know that right?”

“I have no idea what that means,” Steve answers, but by now he’s gotten all of the buttons taken care of and is pulling Tony’s shirt off too. Greedy now, he tugs at the bottom of his undershirt and pulls that over Tony’s head too, laying the long expanse of his chest bare. He’d glimpsed its glow beneath the undershirt, but the device that keeps Tony alive is, well, stark against his skin. “Wow.” He touches it gingerly.

“Careful,” Tony says, then adds with another smirk, “I might have to make a pun about you holding my heart in your hands.”

“You’re so sentimental,” Steve says, surprising himself with a surge of real affection. He leans in to kiss him again, lingering over it, then pulls back to peer at the—thing in Tony’s chest. “What do you call it, anyway? Your—glowy power box heart thing?”

“My arc reactor? I call it ‘my arc reactor,’” Tony says. “Though ‘glowy power box heart thing’ has a ring to it.”

“Shut up.” Steve laughs, falling back on the bed. It’s easy laughing with Tony sometimes, he realizes.

Tony is smiling at him, amused. “No, I’m serious,” he says as he pushes his pants to the floor, kicking them away with his shoes. He pulls off his socks too, tossing them into a corner. “Glowy Power Box Heart Thing, I could call it the GPBHT for short.”

“Uh huh. Whatever.” Steve follows Tony’s example and kicks off his shoes, but tying the socks together—an old army habit. They’re each down to their boxers now, and he swallows heavily, unexpectedly nervous.

As if he senses Steve’s change in mood, Tony pauses. “You can say no anytime you want, Steve,” he says very seriously. “I live on the edge sometimes, morally speaking, but there are some lines I don’t cross, and that’s one of them. Clear?”

“Crystal.” Steve licks his lips, then hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers. “On three?”

“What are we, twelve?” Tony grumbles, but they push their last garments away at the same moment. Steve is aware of the mansion’s air conditioning, cool enough on his skin that he represses the urge to shiver, but then Tony is lying down next to him, tracing warm patterns onto Steve’s skin with his tongue.

“Gah, that tickles!”

Tony looks offended—no, concerned. “Tickles means nerves, Steve. Nerves mean you’re not ready. That’s—not good.”

“I’m just new at this is all.” Steve is oddly abashed, and he laughs ruefully. “I just—I want to do so many things all at once, y’know?”

Tony snorts. “This isn’t a race. Or a one-time deal. Unless you want it to be.”

Steve licks his lips. “You mean we could—you would—we could—”

“You used to be articulate. What happened?” Tony looks pained, but Steve can see that he’s amused more than anything. All the same, he hits him with a pillow.

“Shut up. Fine. I’m asking after this, do you want to go out on a date?” Steve asks that last bit all in a rush. “I don’t know how to dance. You should know that.”

“I can teach you,” Tony answers easily. “And yes, I will happily go on a date with you after we have wild passionate sex.”

“Well now that the stressful part is over with—” Steve pulls Tony close to him, kissing him again. “Where were we?”

“I don’t know. You might have to remind me.” Tony’s chuckle is a breath across Steve’s lips, and then he’s drifting lower, lower.

Tony is a lazy lover it seems, content to take his time with all things: licking sparking trails down Steve’s chest, running fingertips along his sides, gently using teeth on the nubs of his nipples. When he dips down and takes Steve’s cock in his mouth, Steve is afraid this is all going to end far too soon, and too embarrassingly, but Tony knows exactly when to stop, when to back off.

To let him breathe.

Steve is greedier: he’s had too many years of reading books and the dirty comics the guys liked to pass around in the barracks and camps. He wants to know what everything feels like for real, so he revels in the taste of Tony, the feel of his sweat-damp skin and the strain of his muscles, the hair on his chest and legs. He wants to try the trick Tony did with his cock, but when he bends down to repay the favor, Tony winces comically.

“Teeth, Steve, watch the teeth! Oh, there you go.” Tony sighs in relief, groaning a bit. “Okay, ease up. This is going to end way sooner than I had planned if you keep that up!”

Steve pauses. “Planned?” he echoes, and Tony actually looks a little sheepish.

“Planned…wished…whatever. Oh, come on, Steve, look at you! I may be a jaded asshat, but even I know you’re something special! Okay, what just happened?” he asks as Steve can’t help but flinch a little.

“You—you like this,” Steve grits out, gesturing at his body: the long frame, the muscles. “Let’s be honest, would you have looked twice at the real me? All five foot nothing and a hundred pounds? Be honest.”

To his surprise, Tony snorts. “I don’t know what it was like back then, but—look, maybe that’s the way some people are, but that’s not the way it should work, okay? Nice bodies are great, and I won’t argue that I’ve had more than my fair share of those, but I like brains, too. You’ve got those in spades, and even more guts, besides. Those are rare things, Steve.”

“What about that model?” Steve asks dubiously. “What’s her name—Sofia?”

Tony actually looks amused. “Sofia has a Masters degree from Harvard and has an entire circuit to raise awareness of violence against women in Africa. I’m serious, Steve, the people I like—really like? I like them for more than the obvious, thanks.”

“Oh.” Steve actually feels chastened. “Sorry.”

“Pfft.” Tony makes a dismissive gesture. “Now then, if your body image concerns are properly allayed, can we get back to the happy naked fun time?”

They do. After the—oddest—inspirational ever, Steve finds that he is more relaxed, is more at ease with Tony’s caresses, his occasional whispered word. He’s not sure what he was expecting, but Tony is remarkably attentive, and it’s not long before Steve thinks either something has to happen, or he’s going to spontaneously combust. “Tony? Are we really going to do this?”

Tony takes a deep breath and sits back on his heels. “How do you want to do this?”

Steve blinks, lust-fuzzy brain slow to catch on. “What? Oh. Uh—how does this usually go?”

Tony appraises him for a second. “Uh, Steve? Have you done this before? Like—anything like this?”

Steve can can feel himself growing pink. “Well not exactly.” Tony raises an eyebrow. “Okay. Fine. No. I haven’t.”

Tony lets loose a long breath. “Right. Okay then. Steve, you trust me?”

“Obviously.” Steve flicks his eyes over the both of them.

Tony’s mouth twitches in a small smile. “Okay then. I’ll throw, you catch.”

Steve doesn’t follow at first. “I’m going from zero to sixty here, Tony. Slow down so I can follow, okay?”

“It’s simple. You haven’t done this before, I have. I’m saying sit back and enjoy the ride, and next time you can return the favor.”

“Huh?!” Next time? Bemused, Steve sits up, but Tony is rummaging in the nightstand. He pulls out a bottle of something and several flat plastic packets.

“Lube and condoms, man’s two best friends.” Tony opens one of the packets, pulling out the latex tube and rolling it over his cock. He squirts some of the liquid from the bottle onto his fingers. “Okay, lie back and think of America, Steve.”

“That is so wrong,” Steve says, but he lies back obediently. Tony settles himself between his legs, and then he can feel the odd sensation of something slick pressed against his hole. He tenses, unable to help it.

“Relax. Trust me.” Tony’s voice is remarkably soothing. “Remember what I said earlier. But if you want this—then trust me. Breathe in and out. There you go,” he says approvingly when Steve does so. “I’m going to slip a finger in now, okay? Just the one.”

The deft intrusion feels awkward, but it doesn’t hurt. Tony moves his digit around experimentally, exploring. After a few minutes it feels like teasing more than anything else.

“Ready for two?” Tony wants to know.

“I think so.” Steve is surprised that he has a sheen of sweat all over, that he’s all but quivering with his hands bunched in the dark sheets. He exhales as Tony slips out, adds some more lube, and then slips two fingers in.

This time there’s more of a burning sensation, not exactly painful but not quite pleasurable either. As before, Tony twists his fingers this way and that, slowly, letting Steve get used to the feeling, and similarly, after a while Steve is hungry for more—for something that seems to hover just out of his reach.

“Three?” Tony asks, and the same maddening process is repeated: a slow introduction and gentle toying. Steve trembles and squirms. “You okay?”

“I just—I want—” He feels breathless and on the edge of giddy laughter. “Tony!” The man’s name is a plea.

“You sure you’re ready for me, Steve?” Tony whispers into his ear, fingers moving maddeningly. “I gotta be honest, I’m dyin’ a little, here, but if you’ve never done this before, I’ve gotta be careful.”

“Hate for you to die on my watch, Tony,” Steve says, “but at this point I’m worried I’ll die first. I’m just sayin’.” He chuckles. “C’mon. Let’s do this.”

“Romantic.” Tony positions himself again, and presses the head of his cock against Steve’s entrance. He pushes in slowly, taking his time, and to Steve’s surprise it goes in much easier than his fingers had. He moves in and out, settling into a slow rhythm that’s tantalizing and delicious all at once. Steve grips Tony’s shoulders, holding onto him.

“Faster, Tony! Please!”

Tony doesn’t answer, just makes a rough grunt and obeys. They’re all wrapped up together now, rocking, and all of a sudden it’s like something is setting off sparks inside him, and Steve is robbed of all breath as his hips thrust up on their own volition, and he comes. Tony follows a few seconds later, letting out a heavy, satisfied sigh. “Good?” he mumbles into Steve’s neck.

“Uh huh,” Steve says. “Better than.” He kisses Tony’s ear.

“Mmmph. But will you still respect me in the morning?” Tony is mock-pleading, and Steve can’t help but laugh.

“Always,” he says.


Steve’s not sure what he was expecting when he wakes up, but it’s not Tony curled up against him.

Morning light streams across them; the digital clock reads that it is 7:15 in the morning. I slept in, Steve thinks with bemusement. He stretches slowly: he feels sore, but not in a bad way, more like he’s just been using unaccustomed muscles. True enough.

When he moves to get up, Tony pulls him to him more firmly with a sleepy, nonsensical murmur. “It’s time to get up, Tony,” Steve says, but he smiles when he says it.

“No, ‘snot,” Tony mumbles, nuzzling his neck. “Trust me, tha’s not for hours yet.”

It’s—really cute, Steve decides. “Okay,” he says, relenting. “We’re sleeping in, just this once. Tomorrow, though, you’re getting up and we’re going jogging.”

“Mmmkay,” Tony says with a pleasure that indicates he could only possibly have heard “we’re sleeping in.”

“You know you’re not always gonna get your way, right?” Steve warns as he rolls over, burrowing back into the warmth of the sheets and Tony.

“’Sfine,” Tony says. “’Slong as I get it at least half the time. And always on Sundays.”

“Fair enough,” Steve agrees, and that’s that.



( 80 comments — Add your .02 )
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Nov. 10th, 2011 03:52 pm (UTC)
Look at me, stumbling over a new pairing.

Lovely work ^^

*mumbles something about Heineken actually being Dutch* *hem*
Nov. 11th, 2011 03:06 am (UTC)
*G* Glad you liked it!!

And, er, what's a proper German beer?
(no subject) - erynwen - Nov. 11th, 2011 08:43 am (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - baka_yu - Nov. 11th, 2011 11:40 am (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - caitri - Nov. 12th, 2011 05:50 am (UTC) - Expand
Nov. 10th, 2011 04:10 pm (UTC)
Oh, bb. OH, BB. YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU, RIGHT????? I can't believe you wrote Tony/Steve. The POWER I wield! Mwahahaha!

This was absolutely delicious! I loved how caring Tony was about Steve's lack of experience in both sex and relationships. These two guys just belong together. And LOL, the beginning with Steve looking through Wikipedia and the then arc reactor thing. I could totally hear you talking in these parts, and it made me giggle madly. Thank you so much for my birthday present!!! *tackle hugs*
Nov. 10th, 2011 10:37 pm (UTC)
More like the power I wield...

Are you ready for the ridiculous crack that is the original Avengers comic books?
(no subject) - blue_jack - Nov. 10th, 2011 10:40 pm (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - gadgetorious - Nov. 10th, 2011 10:47 pm (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - blue_jack - Nov. 10th, 2011 10:49 pm (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - caitri - Nov. 11th, 2011 03:07 am (UTC) - Expand
Nov. 10th, 2011 04:59 pm (UTC)
This. Was. Awesome!

It was just the right mixture of sexy and sweet. The sexual inexperience, the technology shock, and the details from the past were all very believable, too, and added a lot to it. And you nailed the characterization.

And you KNOW how much I love Tony, right? This may be the highlight of my week. And RDJ *does* have such strinking dark eyes.
Nov. 11th, 2011 03:08 am (UTC)
*G*G*G*G*G* Glad you liked it, bb!!!
Nov. 10th, 2011 05:45 pm (UTC)
Wikipedia! And Pepper as a fangirl! (At least, that's what I'm assuming from that comment). Oh. :D
Lovely, as always.
Nov. 11th, 2011 03:08 am (UTC)
*G*G* Glad you liked it!!!!!!!!!!!
Nov. 10th, 2011 10:56 pm (UTC)
Gah. Just what I don't need, another new pairing! But it's you, so of course I had to read and as always, I loved it! ♥

Psst. How comes the James Eyre fic? *gives you puppy eyes of DOOM*

Nov. 11th, 2011 03:10 am (UTC)
*cuddles you*

I need to get back to your fic. I've been crazy stressed, then I got sick and wrote fic in a medicinal haze, which was awesome. I'm hoping to get your fic and the kushiel!sequel of doom done before year's out though, I swear to Gods!
(no subject) - avictoriangirl - Nov. 12th, 2011 04:57 am (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - gadgetorious - Nov. 11th, 2011 04:06 am (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - nix_this - Nov. 11th, 2011 04:31 am (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - gadgetorious - Nov. 11th, 2011 04:59 am (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - nix_this - Nov. 11th, 2011 04:29 pm (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - gadgetorious - Nov. 12th, 2011 03:50 am (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - nix_this - Nov. 12th, 2011 03:59 am (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - gadgetorious - Nov. 12th, 2011 04:07 am (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - nix_this - Nov. 12th, 2011 04:18 am (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - avictoriangirl - Nov. 12th, 2011 04:55 am (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - caitri - Nov. 12th, 2011 05:03 am (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - avictoriangirl - Nov. 12th, 2011 05:14 am (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - caitri - Nov. 12th, 2011 05:16 am (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - avictoriangirl - Nov. 12th, 2011 05:26 am (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - caitri - Nov. 12th, 2011 05:29 am (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - avictoriangirl - Nov. 12th, 2011 05:33 am (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - caitri - Nov. 12th, 2011 05:34 am (UTC) - Expand
PS - caitri - Nov. 12th, 2011 05:07 am (UTC) - Expand
Re: PS - avictoriangirl - Nov. 12th, 2011 05:17 am (UTC) - Expand
Re: PS - caitri - Nov. 12th, 2011 05:21 am (UTC) - Expand
and PPS - caitri - Nov. 12th, 2011 05:23 am (UTC) - Expand
Re: and PPS - avictoriangirl - Nov. 12th, 2011 05:27 am (UTC) - Expand
Re: and PPS - caitri - Nov. 12th, 2011 05:30 am (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - gadgetorious - Nov. 12th, 2011 02:31 pm (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - avictoriangirl - Nov. 12th, 2011 03:32 pm (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - caitri - Nov. 12th, 2011 03:47 pm (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - avictoriangirl - Nov. 13th, 2011 01:42 am (UTC) - Expand
(Deleted comment)
Nov. 12th, 2011 03:20 am (UTC)
*G* Glad you liked it!!
Nov. 11th, 2011 04:32 am (UTC)
OH HAI! It's you! And you're HERE! AND YAY! :D

Trek's been so quiet, it seems we're all avengers now XD
Nov. 12th, 2011 03:21 am (UTC)

Momentary lapse, I assure you. blue_jack is just really....persuasive.

Edited at 2011-11-12 03:22 am (UTC)
(no subject) - nix_this - Nov. 12th, 2011 03:24 am (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - caitri - Nov. 12th, 2011 03:42 am (UTC) - Expand
Nov. 11th, 2011 04:45 am (UTC)
Nov. 12th, 2011 03:22 am (UTC)

Momentary lapse, I assure you. blue_jack is just really....persuasive.
Nov. 11th, 2011 04:47 am (UTC)
Oh, I love this. The way you wrote them is just beautiful. :D
Nov. 11th, 2011 05:13 am (UTC)
Awesome story! Love the characterisation of both. ^^
Btw., re: German beers: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/German_beer#Brands_and_breweries
Nov. 12th, 2011 03:41 am (UTC)
*G*G*G* Glad you liked it, and thanks!!
Nov. 11th, 2011 06:55 am (UTC)
aaah. Very sweet. Love the rundown on Tony's exs.
Nov. 12th, 2011 03:22 am (UTC)
*G*G* Glad you liked it!!
Nov. 11th, 2011 07:10 am (UTC)
I like it!

Okay, this is a bizarre fact check moment, but here's a quick and easy tweak you might want to make. I live in New York City and we don't have Safeways - I checked their store locator to verify and no, there aren't any here. We do have Key Food, Stop & Shop, and Food Emporium (roughly equivalent), and (fancier) Whole Foods, Trader Joe's as far as chains go.

Also, even in March, a bunch of bananas cost one to two dollars, not six.

Edited at 2011-11-11 07:28 am (UTC)
Nov. 12th, 2011 03:23 am (UTC)
Noted, thanks!! *G*
Nov. 11th, 2011 03:58 pm (UTC)
I actually really adore this pairing even though I've only read like two fics with them!

Great job, bb!

Nov. 12th, 2011 03:19 am (UTC)
Read moooooooar.
(no subject) - weepingnaiad - Nov. 12th, 2011 03:31 am (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - gadgetorious - Nov. 12th, 2011 03:46 am (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - weepingnaiad - Nov. 12th, 2011 03:48 am (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - caitri - Nov. 12th, 2011 03:25 am (UTC) - Expand
Nov. 11th, 2011 08:59 pm (UTC)
“Okay, you’ve found the greatest timesuck on the web outside of Tumblr. What next, hero?”

Not going to lie, for a second I wondered how Steve had found the TV Tropes site. Great fic! I loved how Steve read Tony's wikipedia article with Tony right next to him, and how that lead to hot sex. With Tony, some things are just that easy ;-) I really enjoyed your characterization of Steve - cautious but at the same time determined not to miss any chances.
Nov. 12th, 2011 03:24 am (UTC)
*G*G* Glad you liked it!!!
Nov. 12th, 2011 12:03 am (UTC)
This was great! The banter was spot on, and oh man virgin!Steve! Guh...

Well done! :D
Nov. 12th, 2011 03:29 am (UTC)
*G* Glad you liked it!!!!
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