THE ARTIST'S TOUCH
Author: Pixie-Rings
Fandom: Avengers
Pairing: Steve/Tony
Genre: fluff, vague crack
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: They belong to Marvel, not me, because if they were mine we'd see more boy kissing.
Word count: 629
Warning: none
Summary: Sometimes, Steve draws some questionable stuff…
A/n: Just a little ficlet I wrote a few nights ago at one in the morning. I feel for Steve in these cases. Getting caught drawing naughty stuff is kind of embarrassing… XD
xxXxXxx
Tony rubbed his eyes as he entered the kitchen, getting used to the warm late-afternoon sunshine after hours spent tinkering in the electric glare of the garage.
"Hi." He said to Steve as he reached for a soda from the refrigerator, groaning softly as he realized it was all diet. This was the last time he was allowing MJ and the two Jessicas to write out Jarvis's shopping list. Steve hummed a greeting, intent on his sketchpad as his fingers made the pencil dart across the paper. Tony opened his can with a hiss and strolled over to lean a hand on the table and catch a glimpse.
"What are you drawing?" He asked, bending closer. Immediately Steve stopped drawing and tipped it towards himself, cheeks pink.
"Um... Nothing." He said. Tony chuckled. That Steve was sometimes such a bad liar was a trait Tony found completely endearing. Along with that blush. One would not expect to see such a blush on the face of Captain America, hero supreme.
"I'm not buying that, Steve. Come on, what are you drawing?" He reached out a hand to take the pad and found it snatched out of reach.
"Nothing." Said Steve, a little more firmly. Tony's grin suddenly turned from amused to wickedly so.
"You've been drawing rude things again, haven't you?" He teased, eyes twinkling. Steve's blush level went from slightly embarrassed to utter chagrin. Tony laughed triumphantly and lunged for the pad, fingers squirming for it. Steve held him at bay with one arm and held the pad as far away as he could with the other.
"No, you're not looking at it!" Steve said, leaning further away and holding his arm harder against Tony's sternum as the other man struggled to get to the sketchpad.
"Aw, you're no fun!" Tony pouted.
"Ooh, what's this?"
Peter, who had just landed on the floor from the ceiling, whipped the pad from Steve's hand, eliciting a shocked gasp from the national superhero. But before Peter could traumatize himself by seeing what was drawn, Tony had snatched it from him with a triumphant exclamation, flicking the pad a moment as if to underline his supremacy before looking (so much for spider sense). Steve groaned, massaging his temple in humiliation. Tony raised an eyebrow and took a thoughtful sip from his can. It was a picture of himself, wearing only bed sheets and looking happily debauched. He grinned, feeling flattered and a little aroused that Steve liked to draw him, especially like this, and more than a little touched and pleased that Steve knew him well enough to draw him from memory.
"Steve," he said, "you flatter me. I don't look this good after sex." He waggled his eyebrows over a Cheshire grin. Steve groaned again and buried his face in his hands. Peter grimaced and made violent retching sounds while making his way to the fridge to fetch his own soda.
"Great, more mental scarring." He muttered, leaving the kitchen again with hunched shoulders, muttering about extreme gayness. Tony laughed and kissed Steve on the cheek.
"You really do flatter me." He said, looking at the picture again.
"It was meant to be a private thing." Steve said, trying to pretend Tony's kiss and appreciation didn't make him happy. Tony chuckled, his expression softer.
"Well, considering I was in on the context of the picture..." He mused. Steve allowed himself a grin.
"You win." He said, standing. "Now, how about we give me fresh inspirational material?" He asked, placing his hands on Tony's hips. Tony's smile became a smirk and he nodded.
"I agree. I like being your muse..." He said, kissing him. Steve rumbled happily.
"And a very good muse you are too." He stated, leading the way to their bedroom.