Chapter One
It was late; very late. He needed coffee. And alcohol.
For the past fifteen hours, Tony Stark had been working in his lab, tinkering with his suit and developing, improving and drafting weapons and tech upgrades. He was also pissed. Angry-pissed, not the fun kind of pissed.
Earlier that day, he'd run into Rogers in the gym. He'd only intended to have a quick session on the bags and maybe some weights or something… but Captain Friggin' America was there.
He'd been punching a bag with one hand, pumping iron in the other, alternating every ten reps.
"Hi, Stark," he greeted with a grunt, pumping his left arm.
"Cap," he nodded.
"I didn't think you knew where the gym was." Rogers' voice sounded amused, even as he switched hands.
"Well, it is my tower," Tony replied, picking up a much smaller set of dung bells.
"Startin' soft, huh?"
"Yeah."
"Good choice. Don't want to strain yourself too much." Rogers had probably meant to sound genial or pleasant or conversational or… whatever. But all Tony heard was condescension and disdain.
"Fuck you, Rogers. We can't all drink our muscles out of a bottle! Without my father's help, you'd be a regular guy, livin' a regular life – in the 'good ol' days'. That means you'd be dead. Do keep pumping your iron, Captain Fabulous!" And with that, he'd dropped his weights and stormed out.
Fucking Captain Perfect… Douche bag.
And so, since then, he'd been tinkering away in his lab, trying to forget about how he couldn't compare, physically, with any of the other Avengers.
Hell, he was sure Pepper could kick his arse if she really wanted. And All America Boy just had to rub it in.
X
Steve watched as Stark left, angry at him for a complete misunderstanding. He'd only been trying to make conversation with the man! He was hoping to try and get past their initial dislike for each other. After all, they'd been through a lot together… and Stark was allowing the Avengers to live in his tower.
When Steve had returned from his impromptu road trip, he'd been hesitant to take up the generous offer. SHIELD had provided small lodgings, but at Avengers Tower, he had access to amazing facilities and any information he may need (courtesy of Stark's hacking abilities). Plus, the billionaire had provided him with his own suite. Not to mention he free food and board.
The generosity had taken him by surprise, completely shaking his view of the other man. So, he was trying to make friendly conversation, but seemed to be getting absolutely nowhere. Stark took offence to nearly everything he said!
Sighing, Steve wiped down his weight and returned it to the little tower. He picked up the smaller dung bells Stark had dropped and replaced them as well. Looking at them, he smiled. Before he'd become Captain America, he would never have been able to do the weights he could now. Stark was able to do much more than Steve was ever capable of before the Serum. Maybe I should tell him that…
After looking for the man in all the common areas, Steve figured he was in his private room or his lab – neither of which he was allowed (or willing) to enter. So, he went to the rec room and picked up where he left off with his documentaries. He was still catching up on world events since he'd gone under the ice.
X
Grumbling to himself, Tony made coffee and a sandwich and went to waste time in the rec room. He was sick of his lab for the time being and wanted to do something mindless.
When he entered the room, the awful music of a DVD menu was looping, accompanied by soft snores coming from the couch.
Curious, Tony peered over the back of the large sofa and raised an eyebrow at what he found.
Spangles was curled in the foetal position, cuddling a cushion to his chest, snoring. His features were smooth and peaceful; his pouty, pink lips slightly open. He's cuter when he's asleep, Tony thought with a smirk.
"Rogers!" he yelled, gleefully watching the other man jump as he sat straight up, ready for action, pillow held ready for throwing at a moment's notice. "Outstanding! Why didn't I think of that? Cushions! Pillows! Stuffed animals ready for battle! I'll present a Cuddle Thrower 3000 to the president next week," he teased, motioning for the Captain to shove over.
"That was unnecessary, Stark," the blond grumbled.
"I know," he gave his trademark 'I couldn't give two shits 'cause I'm Tony Freakin' Stark' smirk, and sipped his coffee.
X
Steve knew Stark was only being defensive; he'd asked both Natasha and Miss Potts about the snarky billionaire and they'd both given similar answers.
"Tony's… well, he's the only child of a very wealthy family, who also, unfortunately sometimes, has a mind for science and technology. He can, and does, do whatever he wants, when he wants because he knows he can," Pepper had said.
Natasha's answer had been more clinically observant – as he'd expected from her.
"Stark is defensive against us for two reasons," she'd said as he'd held a punching bag for her. "First, he is a spoilt genius billionaire with difficulty in interpersonal relationships stemming from both neglect as a child and the fact that his intellect meant that he advanced himself so much that he never had a chance to socialise with other, normal, children his own age.
"The second reason is that, physically, he knows he is weaker than the rest of us. He is smarter than all of us, but feels superior only when he can prove it – this means he lashes out, teases and/or lectures. He feels physically inadequate and overcompensates with his intelligence," she ended with a particularly powerful roundhouse, barely missing Steve's fingers on the punching bag.
He'd left both women with a nearly overwhelming sense of curiosity. Tony Stark fascinated Steve; he'd never thought of Stark as insecure. The guy had always seemed so sure of himself – both physically and mentally. Until today.
Cursing himself, he opened his mouth to apologise.
"Stark, I –"
"Stark! Just who I needed to see," Barton strutted in, a grin on his face. "You up for some work?"
"Not now; I just spent fifteen hours in the lab. Maybe later… when the sun's up."
"Well, when you're ready, I'd like your help with some weapons," he clapped Stark's shoulder, nodded to Steve, and left again; unknowingly ruining the mood for Steve's apology.
"What were you saying, Spangles?" he asked around a mouthful of sandwich.
"Nothing… I forget." He offered a week smile and excused himself for bed. "Good night, Stark."
-X-
AN: This is the start of a very long fic. It is also a belated birthday present to Werewolf Groupie. Happy birthday, my love!