Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. Though lord, I wish I did. But then again, it is probably a good thing I don't, because then The Avengers would be a romance movie instead of the brilliance it is.
A/N: I may or may not have made up the word misdrawn lines for this fic. Oh well. Also, no worries, my other stories will be updated as usual, I just had a snow day so I decided to do this.
Misdrawn Lines
Tony Stark, billionaire playboy philanthropist, Iron Man, was absolutely in love with Steve Rogers, Captain America, a man who looked just like he was plucked out of Tony's fantasies.
Which was not as big of an issue as one would think. Because it turned out the Steve Rogers, Captain America, a man who looked just like he was plucked out of Tony's fantasies, was in love with Tony Stark, billionaire playboy philanthropist in return.
As great as requited love was, however, that left Tony with a conundrum. Because Steve was the most gorgeous, sexy person alive. Sometimes he literally blinded Tony, with his smiles. And Tony knew that he was sexy. Countless people had assured him of that in nights full of hushed breath and hurried movements.
But all of that was before Afghanistan.
After Afghanistan no one had ever seen Tony shirtless besides Pepper. He didn't treat nakedness with the same casualness as he did before. Sometimes he walked around with only boxers on, but his shirt stayed on. At all times.
He suspected that a lot of people thought this was because of his arc reactor. He could see that. It was his biggest weakness, the chink in his armor that everyone could see. He did let people touch it, so he could see why people would suspect that he kept his shirt on to hide his arc reactor.
They were wrong.
He did not keep his shirt on because of the arc reactor. He kept his shirt on because of what was around it.
When the bomb, the bomb with his name, had exploded, his chest had taken the brunt of the impact. Millions of little shrapnel pieces had pierced his skin, leaving little white lines that, in the right light, looked a little bit like sprinkles on ice cream. And if resembling an ice cream when you had a gorgeous super soldier wasn't enough, add in a little surgery that required the removal of a couple of ribs and the resituating of a lot of muscles without any medical equipment.
The point was, Tony's chest was hideous. It was ugly and cringe worthy, and he could still see Pepper's revulsion when he had made the mistake of asking for her help and she had seen his ravaged chest. Her eyes had gone wide and her hands trembled in a way that Tony just knew was not because of what she was doing.
To make matter's worse, Steve's skin was flawless. It was a creamy color devoid of any scars. He was like a masterpiece in which the artist never made any mistakes. He was perfect, all of his lines where they should be, like carving out his delicious abs or accentuating his fantastic jaw line.
Meanwhile, Tony was filled with misdrawn lines, hideous lines that ran jagged across his chest, scattered about his ribs and splayed like rays of a sun around his arc reactor.
And this was a major issue, because Tony had been taking it slow, doing it right by Steve, but he really, really, wanted to sleep with him. Of course he did. That wasn't what this whole thing with Steve was about, but he was a man, and he was dating a supersoldier. No one could be expected to keep their hands off of Steve for long if they had the privilege of touching him.
But Steve was not someone he wanted to have a rushed experience with. He wanted it to be nice, and slow, and filled with emotion where the other had not been. And he was pretty sure that Steve would not go for the whole, I-want-to-keep-my-shirt-on thing.
And he was pretty sure how that would play out. Tony snorted out loud just thinking about it. Steve would try to pretend that it didn't bother him, but Tony knew that his hands would stay by his side instead of resting where they normally did on Tony's hips, that his beautiful blue eyes would skate uncomfortably over his midsection, that he would eventually run off to be with a less messed up, less scared person. And then it would be ruined, and the one thing that Tony did right in his life would be gone.
It was decided then.
His shirt would not come off.
Steve had heard all about Tony's past adventures. When he looked it up on Google, thousands of results jumped out at him, vying for his attention. Tony had been very promiscuous, which Steve did not really judge him for. It wasn't as if the people didn't know what they were getting into when they were with Tony and it had been before he had been around. If he was doing it while they were in a relationship, Steve would have had an issue. But Tony wasn't.
Tony wasn't sleeping with anyone these days. And though Steve didn't want to be just another person in the line of Tony's conquests, this was bugging him. His boyfriend was probably the sexiest person in the world, and he loved him, and he was a man in his twenties. And he could only take so many cold showers before having a panic attack.
He had hinted to Tony that he was ready to take their relationship to the next level, quite obviously, because he knew that Tony had a way of ignoring what was right in front of him, and yet the man still hadn't done anything. Steve didn't want to push, and he wouldn't, but he wanted to know what he was doing wrong. Tony had told him that he was attractive, countless times in countless ways, and yet he still did little more than kiss Steve.
It was driving Steve insane.
Did he not want to do that with Steve? Did he think that it wasn't going to be good? Was he not as invested in this relationship as Steve was? They had said they loved each other, which Steve never expected to come before sleeping together. Not that he didn't think he would love Tony before that, but Tony was, well, Tony, and though Steve loved him more than anything, he wasn't exactly big on talking about emotions.
So why, in God's name, had they not slept together?
"Steve!" Tony wandered into the living room, and spotting Steve, made his way to him quickly. Steve shut the tab he had open on his tablet and turned it off before Tony could see that he was looking up tabloids about his playboy ways.
"Hi," Steve said, feeling his lips quirk up as Tony landed in his lap. He loved all of Tony's looks, but when he came out of the workshop was one of the best. His hair was always wild, his face often streaked with grease, and he was usually clad in a dark t-shirt and a pair of jeans that perfectly accentuated Tony in a way that made Steve ache.
"M'tired," Tony mumbled into Steve's shoulder. Steve shifted him in his lap so he could see Tony's beautiful brown eyes and Tony smiled at him. He did look tired, with dark shadows under his eyes. It was strange, because Tony only looked tired after many days without sleep. And even before their relationship Tony went to Steve during the nights when he couldn't sleep. Or he used to.
"Did you not sleep last night?" He asked Tony, trying to make sure that his worry was hinted with a tone of disapproval, though he really wasn't one to talk. The battle against insomnia was one that none of the Avengers could ever successfully vanquish.
Tony made a face that Steve knew fully well meant that he hadn't and he felt absurdly hurt that Tony had not sought him out last night. After all, it wasn't like some spoken agreement they had, but it had been happening for nearly a year now. Tony leaned forward and started placing little kisses along Steve's jaw that would have driven Steve insane if it weren't for the fact that he knew Tony was only doing it because he didn't want to talk about something. As it was, it was immensely distracting.
"Did you have nightmares?" Steve asked, determined to find out what was wrong with Tony, nonetheless arcing his head to allow Tony better access as he drifted down towards Steve's neck. Tony made a noise that was purposefully neither negative nor positive. "You know my bed it open for you," Steve said, putting just enough amount of leer so Tony couldn't not get what he was saying.
His boyfriend suddenly pulled away, scrambling off of his lap and running away, mumbling something about coffee and a meeting.
Now Steve knew something was wrong.
The coffee may have been plausible, but Tony Stark did not stop kissing someone because he had a meeting.
What was Steve doing wrong?
Tony hustled into the kitchen, heading straight for the coffee. That at least had not been a lie. He needed caffeine in his veins, to give him the willpower to stay away from Steve. Because if he was near Steve, his hands were going to be on Steve. And having hands on Steve would always lead to something more.
And he had to stay away from the more.
So he was in the kitchen. Getting…coffee. That's right, he was getting coffee. He poured himself a mug and spun around, nearly spilling all that he had just poured. It had been over a year, living with Natasha, and yet she still managed to give him panic attacks whenever she appeared out of thin air.
"You won't have sex with Steve," Natasha said bluntly. Tony raised an eyebrow and took a big drag from his coffee, drawing from it the strength he knew he was going to need to have this conversation. "Why?"
"I didn't know you shipped Stony so avidly," Tony said, dodging the question neatly. However his teammates were just as apt with noticing him dodging questions as he was doing it.
"Why?" Natasha repeated. Tony stared at her over his coffee, staying silent. He did not want to tell her, but he also knew that she knew many ways to figure out the truth. She would send Clint after him, or do torture. Or just that freaky thing with her eyes that made Tony want to pee himself. She was almost doing it right now. Tony could feel her superpower activating.
Suddenly Natasha's eye softened, her power going back into hibernation.
"Oh Tony," She sighed. Her eyes were trained lower than Tony's face and he followed them, right to where his hand had involuntarily made its way over where his arc reactor was lurking underneath his shirt. "Is that what this is about?"
"Maybe," Tony said sullenly, hating the fact that they had all gained the ability to read him so easily.
"He's not going to care," Natasha rolled her eyes. Tony scoffed. "He's not,"
"You don't know. You haven't seen it," Tony said stubbornly. Because she didn't know. She had never seen his chest, didn't know how absolutely horrific it was.
"Maybe I have seen it," Natasha said, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. Tony sent her a look, because excuse him, that was his chest, not hers, to look at. "Besides, even if I haven't seen it, I know Steve. And Steve probably wouldn't care if you suddenly grew tentacles or a third eye. He loves you Tony."
Tony curled his fingertips against the arc reactor, feeling the whirring. Normally it was reassuring, but now it only served to reaffirm his argument. None would be attracted to someone who was part robot.
"You have five days," Natasha warned him. "And then I'm telling him."
She slipped off of her stool and padded away, seemingly satisfied with that amount of superspy meddling for the day, and Tony stared after her for a moment, taking another gulp of his coffee before speaking again.
"I don't suppose I could get scar removal surgery and stem cell transplant in five days, could I?"
"I'm afraid not, sir," JARVIS said.
Damn. Tony had a plan to devise.
Sadly, Tony's plan, as usual, did not work out quit the way he planned. He had a whole thing worked out, about how he was going to slowly show his chest, get Steve accustom to it before showing it all. But apparently this stupid villain, that had the ability to turn people into bouncy balls, had other plans. Because when one is turned into a bouncy ball, it appeared as though your clothes stayed, but your arc reactor did not.
And that was an issue.
Tony gasped, swearing he could feel the shrapnel running through his veins. His vision was fuzzy and everything was muted.
"Steve," He gasped, grabbing onto something to try and pull himself up. He almost got up, too, but then his hand was slipping, slick with something, and he was crashing back on the ground. His vision went black for a moment, and then fuzzy things started appearing.
"Stark…" Someone was standing over him, the voice familiar, but Tony could not remember for the life of him who it was. He raised a shaky hand and placed it on his chest, hoping whoever it was would understand. The person lifted him slightly, and started yelling. Tony didn't catch much, but he heard the words Steve and his own name.
And then Steve was there, Tony knew he was, even if he couldn't see him, because he could smell the Steve smell.
"Got your new arc reactor, hold on Tony, gonna be alright," Steve babbled. Tony opened his eyes, suddenly realizing that he had shut them, and stared up at Steve's face. He made a sloppy attempt to touch his jaw and then felt Steve putting his hands on his shirt and ripping.
"No," He protested weakly, his hands searching for the remains of his shirt. He couldn't quit remember why, but he was certain that he wanted his shirt on. "Don't see my chest,"
"Don't worry, your innocence is safe with me," Steve said, and Tony noticed that he sounded almost hurt, and why was Steve hurt, Steve shouldn't be hurt, he was gorgeous and the light of Tony's life and Tony loved him, and would buy him…buy him stuff, anything he wanted and then.
Hot damn.
His arc reactor was back in his chest, and Tony could feel its power coursing through his veins, and suddenly everything was all better, except his chest was bare and Steve could see, with his perfect vision, all of Tony's atrocities.
Tony needn't have worried. Because with a quick kiss to his temple and a soft I'll be back, Steve was gone.
Running away from Tony already.
Steve wandered into Tony's hospital room, knowing that Tony may not have wanted him there but not being able to stay away. Natasha looked up from where she was perched on the end of the bed and patted Tony's leg before brushing past Steve and leaving them alone.
They were silent, Steve staring at Tony and Tony peeking out from where he had the sheet pulled up to his chin. And then Tony spoke.
"I can get surgery," He said, his words tumbling out. "There are treatments to reduce scarring, to make my skin smooth again. It might take a while, but if that is what you want and it will make our relationship work, I'll do it."
"I- what?" Steve said, suddenly lost. "What are you talking about, Tony?"
"My scars," Tony said defensively. "I didn't want you to see them, and then you did, and you were running away, and I'll fix it, Steve, I will, if you'll just wait, I'll do anything."
"That's what this is about?" Steve asked, and then started laughing. Tony was still staring defensively at him, his brown eyes full of hurt, but Steve couldn't help it.
His scars. That's what this was about. It had nothing to do with something Steve had done wrong. Tony didn't want to break up with him.
"Fine, laugh, I just spilled my soul to you, told you I would change for you, and you're just laughing as if you had heard the funniest joke, fine, it's not like I have feelings or anything," Tony mumbled, turning on his side away from Steve. Steve swallowed his laughter and wiped his eyes, moving towards Tony and turning him over. Tony stared up as Steve straddled his hips, careful not to put too much weight on him, and pulled the sheet down, but did not quite meet his eyes.
"I thought you weren't sleeping with me because you didn't want to be in our relationship," Steve admitted. "Not because of this," He traced a gentle finger over a scar that went from Tony's hip to his rib. "Tony, this, I don't care about this, you're beautiful to me, with or without your scars."
"You thought that I wouldn't want to be in a relationship with you?" Tony asked, his eyebrows raising and his eyes trained downward. "Steve, I eat vegetables for you."
"I know," Steve laughed at his own idiocy, touching five of his fingertips to the small little scars by Tony's belly button. "We're both idiots, you know that?"
"I'm a genius," Tony informed him, loftily, his eyes on Steve's fingers as they traced reverently over his scars.
"Not if you thought I was going to leave you over something like this," Steve said, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to a scar that was closer to Tony's collarbone. He felt beneath his mouth Tony's sharp intake of breath, and he smiled as he kissed his way down another, longer scar, before pressing a kiss to the glowing blue of his arc reactor. He had felt as though he was the one dying when he saw Tony without an arc reactor, but now with Tony, warm and alive in his hands, his worries, the idea of Tony dying just did not seem possible. Tony was just too much to not exist.
"Steve?" Tony reached down and gently guided Steve's face back up, their eyes meeting. "You know I love you, right?"
"Mm-hmm," Steve said, pressing a chaste kiss to Tony's lips before moving down again, determined to trace every line on Tony's midsection. He was going to know these lines just as much as all the others, because they too were a part of the whole that was Tony's beauty. Tony smiled.
"And Steve?" He continued. Steve glanced up, meeting Tony's smoldering gaze. "You know that as soon as we get home we're going to my room, right?"
"Mm-hmm."