Can't Even Shout

by FestiveFerret88

"So he could hear. He clapped his hands together and the sharp smack was clear and present. He opened his mouth and spoke again. "JARVIS?". Nothing. He could hear. He couldn't speak."

Can't Even Shout

Steve woke up suddenly one morning and realized in a panic that sometime in the night he had lost his hearing.

He flickered awake and opened his mouth to call out a good morning to JARVIS, but he couldn't hear his own words or the comforting computerized voice that would speak back always the same, "Good morning, Captain Rogers," followed by the date, the time and the weather.

Steve had come to rely on this little routine. After waking up once seventy years in the future it was always good to start the day knowing what year it was with complete confidence, but this morning, there was nothing but silence.

He sat up, eyes now wide open and tried again, louder.

Nothing.

Steve ripped the covers off, staggering out of bed and grabbing his alarm clock off the bedside table as he rose. In his hurry to check the time he accidentally smacked the alarm button and the room was filled with loud beeping.

Steve started at the sound, nearly dropping the offending device, and began hitting buttons at random until the clock was silenced. He sat back down carefully on his bed to recover his breath.

Okay.

So he could hear. He clapped his hands together and the sharp smack was clear and present. He opened his mouth and spoke again, "JARVIS?". Nothing.

He could hear. He couldn't speak.

XXX

Steve couldn't help but continue to test his voice as he trotted down the hall to the elevator still pulling on a pair of wrinkled jeans, but no matter what he tried, no sound came out. He pushed the button to summon the elevator and waited impatiently, his mind racing.

There was always the possibility that there was some common virus in the future that made you temporarily lose your voice. Maybe he'd skid into the common room all worked up and everyone would laugh and say, "oh, Steve, it's just a case of the Quiets," or whatever, and he'd feel stupid as usual. Just the thought of Tony patting his back in that condescending way and asking JARVIS for some tea for the poor, addled, old man made him blush hot under his t-shirt collar.

At least a virus would be possible if he weren't immune to literally everything. Even these future viruses had nothing on his super-soldier immune system.

Steve sighed without a sound and rubbed the back of his neck in frustration. Maybe this was just a really vivid dream...

It took a few moments for him to realize that so far there had been absolutely no reaction from the bank of elevators. The light hadn't come on when he pushed the button, though that didn't mean much. Tony had only put the buttons in to make people feel better about the oddness of JARVIS knowing exactly what they wanted by summoning an elevator in advance.

And that made it even weirder. JARVIS should have had an elevator waiting as soon as he left his room, but he'd been standing here for almost a minute and nothing. He couldn't very well ask JARVIS what was going on – though sometimes it felt like it, the AI couldn't read minds just yet – and he had left his Starkphone... somewhere, as usual, so Steve just turned on his heel, pushed open a subtle panel in the wall and took the stairs.

The halls of the tower were eerily quiet as he padded his way from where the stairs let out to the cosy, comfy living space they always gravitated towards as a group. There were larger, more impressive places in the massive tower, but this room had just enough space for the six of them and without really meaning to it became the unofficial gathering place for Avengers Only. It was also where most of them started the day as it had attached a rather impressive kitchen and most of the Avengers preferred the taste of food pilfered from each other over made solo in their own apartments.

There was no sound of clicking silverware and sizzling pans this morning though; all was silent.

Steve rounded the corner through the door and a grim sight greeted his eyes. Bruce, Tony and Natasha were all sitting around a table with a huge pile of paper in front of them. Natasha was gesticulating wildly, but nobody was speaking. Bruce and Natasha having a silent conversation would have been one thing, but Tony with his mouth shut was something entirely unheard of.

Bruce spotted Steve and gestured for him to join them. He glanced at the notes spilled across the table and caught the words "magic", "purpose?" and "fucking stairs". That last one would be Tony; he never used stairs if he could help it.

Speaking of Tony... the man was still in PJ pants (covered in the Avengers logo, Steve didn't even know where he found that kind of stuff) and a ratty t-shirt. He hadn't shaved and his hair stuck up in all directions. Steve's heart starting beating just a little faster at the sight.

The dancing around each other they'd been doing for the last month had finally started taking its toll on Steve's sanity and the blush he began to automatically sport at the sight of Tony in anything less than a full hazmat suit was becoming embarrassing. He wanted to blame it on Tony who flirted as much as he drank and was sympathetic to Steve's discomfort as often as he slept, but the truth was Steve was finding their little joke way too hard to ignore these days.

Movement caught his eye and he realized he had been staring steadily at Tony's chest while his brain wheeled around in half-frenzied fantasy. His eyes flicked up to the other man's face. Tony was staring back with a slightly confused, slightly concerned look on his face. Steve quickly looked away, towards the movement to his right where Natasha was trying to get his attention.

She pointed to her pad of paper and he read the line she indicated.

I assume it got you too?

He nodded and she sighed, then scribbled quickly.

We thought it might be viral/bacterial and you'd be unaffected.

He shook his head and then started pawing through the papers for the one he had seen before. He couldn't find it and his frustration must have shown because Natasha quickly handed him a pad of paper of his own and started searching for a pen.

A hand fell onto his wrist and he knew it must be Tony's because it sent an unsolicited shock zipping up the nerves in his arm. Tony held out a pen to him and he took it and started writing. He got halfway through the first word before he realized the pen was bright pink and had little Hello Kitty faces all over it. His gaze slid up to Tony who was grinning and leaning back in his chair. Steve just rolled his eyes and moved to the next line on his pad, writing out his question before tipping his pad up to face Tony.

Do you always carry around a Hello Kitty pen?

Tony laughed silently before writing back.

Just for you, my dear.

He winked and smirked when Steve rolled his eyes again. Natasha tapped his arm and made a face that clearly said, "when you two are quite finished..?". Steve blushed again, while Tony smirked again, and quickly re-wrote his original question.

Magic?

Bruce nodded solemnly and the smile slipped off Tony's face. They sat still for a long moment pondering that. The irritating thing about magic was that they really just didn't know what they were up against. Magic could be anything, it could have rules or no rules. They just flat out didn't understand it, none of them did.

Well except maybe -

At that moment Thor burst in through the door, somehow managing a loud entrance even without his booming voice.

There was the same bustle of shifted papers as they confirmed once again that yes, they had all been affected - even a demi-god from another world.

Thor made to pick up Steve's Hello Kitty pen, but the super-soldier quickly snatched it up, then firmly avoided catching Tony's eye, knowing the look of triumph he'd see there. Thor didn't even notice as Bruce quickly handed him a different pen and he began to write.

They were all distracted away from Thor by Clint's entrance. He shuffled in, not looking in the least perturbed, and gave the tableful of Avengers a casual nod in greeting. He grabbed an orange off the counter, glanced around at everyone's surprised expressions and then started signing at Natasha. The group exchanged confused glances first at his nonchalance and second at the two of them apparently speaking comfortably in sign language without ever having used it in front of them before.

He made a frustrated sort of shrug and tapped his ear resignedly. Natasha shook her head and signed something back, then rapped loudly on the counter making Clint jump. Steve didn't know sign language, but he had a feeling that next one was something along the lines of "what the fuck?"

Natasha gestured to the piles of paper and Steve quickly scribbled out a message.

No one can speak. We've all been affected.

Clint started to sign again and then, realizing only Natasha would understand and she couldn't translate out loud, grabbed the proffered notepad from Tony instead.

Okay, that's weird. I thought I was deaf.

So did I, - Steve added - at first, then my alarm went off.

Clint pondered that for a moment.

This is a surprisingly quiet tower...

Bruce picked up his own pad. Why did being deaf not seem to bother you?

Clint was about to write back, but Tony interrupted him by tapping his pad loudly. If anyone could master interrupting the written word, it was Tony.

Great, so back to the issue at hand...none of us can talk, including, it seems, JARVIS, which is freaking weird because he doesn't really "talk" in the first place anyway. The elevators are down, none of our phones are working and neither is the coffee maker.

He had underlined the last three times.

Magic? Clint suggested.

Natasha nodded. It's the only thing we can think of that would affect us all equally.

Clint's jaw twitched. Loki?

Thor just shook his head emphatically, which Steve took to mean the trickster god was still safely in Asgardian prison.

Well I suppose we were bound to come across another magic user sooner or later, Loki can't be the only one, Natasha wrote.

Bruce scribbled out in response for a moment and they all waited patiently. It was amazing how quickly they could adapt to communicating this way, but it sure was slow.

But what's the point of it? We can still fight without our voices, all of us can. At worst our teamwork would be a little impacted – Tony might have some trouble controlling parts of the suit I guess – but what's the point?

They all sat for a long moment trying to think of a reason.

Someone's just fucking with us? Clint suggested.

Tony smiled grimly. Wouldn't that be a nice change from world-ending threats?

I doubt it though, Natasha added.

Steve thought about all of them sitting here trying to figure it out. No JARVIS to alert them of danger, no phones for SHIELD or the police to call them...

A distraction?

There was some nodding and Thor picked up his pen again.

That certainly seems more likely. With our normal systems of communication crippled we may be unable to respond to a call for help.

Steve's strategic brain went to work at once.

Okay, we should split up and test a few things out. We should check all the outside doors, see if we can get out and get help, check the workshop and JARVIS' servers in case there's been a break-in. Also Bruce's lab and the roof.

Steve pointed to Bruce indicating he should do the latter. He started to slide his finger over to Natasha, knowing Bruce enjoyed her company. But Tony stiffened ever so slightly next to him and he hesitated. He recalled a conversation he and Tony had a few weeks ago where Tony mentioned that oddly enough, in times of stress, Bruce seemed to seek out Thor. Tony was pretty sure it was because Thor was the only one who had any chance of taking on the Hulk in hand-to-hand. He pointed to Thor instead, gesturing for them to go up towards the lab and the roof.

He indicated next that Natasha and Clint should check the doors to the outside. They would be able to communicate much faster than any of the rest of them using sign language so they might as well be together.

It had nothing to do with leaving Tony to be his partner.

Nothing at all.

He tried to radiate disinterest in the man next to him, but he could feel Tony smiling in a way that said "if I could speak right now I'd be making a lewd comment about you pairing us up" and it made Steve tense up.

It was so stupid that one man had such an effect on him.

At first the flirting had been kind of annoying, then it became kind of funny and then all of a sudden, in a moment he couldn't quite pinpoint, it became unbelievably enticing. Tony had focused in on him from the second they met, laying on the teasing, taunting and smirking with him at least twice as much as with anyone and it got Steve's mind starting to wonder... what if?

The most irritating part was that Steve had no idea what it meant on Tony's end. Did Tony like him? Dislike him? Want to sleep with him and then move on like Google had informed him the billionaire had done with most of Manhattan already? It was a painful mystery and the confusion was digging into Steve like a tack in his shoe. Steve had seen Tony flirt relentlessly with a reporter at a press conference and then turn away and seconds later say some rather nasty things about him. Clearly for Tony acting that way wasn't indicative of any affection.

Steve exiled the thoughts from his mind and pushed away from the table. He mimed eating something and pointed at the kitchen, bolting away from the inexplicable draw of Tony Stark as quickly as possible.

Steve staggered off to the kitchen, The glow from the morning sun barely creeping in through the hazy summer air outside the huge picture windows. He pulled a couple of slices of last night's pizza out of the fridge and tossed them in the microwave, shutting the door behind them.

Then he just stopped and stared.

He'd seen other microwaves on TV and they seemed to have buttons, but the only ones he'd ever used were in Tony's tower and, Tony being Tony, they were voice controlled. Or at least they certainly weren't button controlled. He knew when he asked for two minutes it would go for two minutes but he didn't know if that was JARVIS turning it on for him, or if the microwave really could hear him.

He stood there feeling helpless, glancing suspiciously at the smooth metal surface of the appliance feeling confident there had to be some way of overriding it, but not knowing where to start.

Damn, he hated cold pizza.

There was a slight shuffle behind him and he spun around to see a now fully-clothed Tony sidle into the room. It was almost eerie without the manic babbling that always book-ended Tony's presence in a room - to see the engineer move so quietly.

Tony came to stand next to him, raising his eyebrows questioningly. Steve sighed and gestured at the microwave, but Tony shook his head almost sheepishly. Of course Tony's microwave would have no other way to operate it besides JARVIS. Tony's love affair with technology did have some downsides. Thank god he put in emergency stairs at all or they'd all be stuck on their own floors with no way to communicate.

He gave Tony a look and the brunette just shrugged and smiled. Steve pulled the cold pizza out of the microwave and shoved it unhappily in his mouth, grabbing a napkin and gesturing towards the door. They should get down to the workshop and see what was up.

The trip down the stairs was a long one and one that Tony was clearly not pleased about. His lips moved silently and Steve was pretty confident he could fill in the words without needing to hear them. The A/C didn't make it into the stairwells since according to Tony "only a crazy person would take the stairs and crazy people deserve to be uncomfortable" so it was sticky and humid. It didn't help that the lights seemed to all be half unscrewed and flickered randomly as they hiked down. They each had a small notepad and a pen in their pocket, but neither wasted time adding words to the downwards trek.

The door to the workshop was closed and locked, but Tony pulled a panel up out of the floor and a huge ring of keys out of his pocket. He selected one of the many identical-looking keys with confidence and inserted it into a spot in the panel. There was a hiss of releasing gas and the door swung open easily.

Steve wanted to ask what that was, but Tony swarmed into the workshop to check on his babies and Steve was forgotten. Everything seemed fine to Steve, but the workshop was such a mess, and such a mystery to him, that it could have been ransacked and he would have no idea. Tony knew though, and he looked unperturbed. He checked on his bots, his latest works, and a few banks of what Steve assumed were computers that housed JARVIS.

Tony pulled out a screwdriver and started tinkering with things so Steve gave up on trying to look useful and sat down on the couch, tucked up against the left arm. He watched Tony's back as he worked.

These were the sorts of fights that always made Steve feel utterly superfluous. There was nothing to hit, no battle strategy, just puzzle-solving. It was never his strong suit and hadn't seemed to have been enhanced by the serum. Tony, Bruce, and Natasha – they were good at puzzle-solving.

Steve picked at his napkin shredding it into little pieces and his mind couldn't help but cast back to the last time he and Tony had been alone in the kitchen.

Steve had woken up in the middle of the night, starving. It happened fairly often these days. His body already needed a ton of calories to keep operating at peak efficiency and any day where he had worked especially hard – a battle, or intense training – the amount of food he found time to eat during the day wasn't going to be enough. He wandered down to the kitchen looking for a snack and found Tony asleep at the kitchen table, a cold mug of coffee in front of him.

Steve watched him sleep fondly for a moment before gently shaking him awake.

"Wha-?" Tony sat up suddenly and cast around for answers. His eyes alighted on Steve and he smiled. "Hey Cap, what's up?"

"It's 3am, Tony. You fell asleep at the table."

Tony looked down at the table and then at the full mug of coffee that sat untouched a few feet away. "Damn, so close." He grabbed the mug and knocked it back, draining half the stale coffee before Steve could stop him.

"Tony!" he chastised. "Don't drink that, go to bed." He took the mug from Tony's hands and tipped the rest in the sink. He pulled a tub of leftovers out at random and started picking at it absentmindedly.

"You're one to talk." Tony gestured at what Steve could only assume was his awake-ness.

"Tony, I went to bed at 9:30. I've already had hours of sleep. You've had, what? One? And at the table. Go to bed."

Tony got up and shuffled over to stand next to Steve, not-so-subtly checking the coffee maker for remnants in the carafe. "I was working."

"You're always working," Steve replied.

"Fair point." Tony wobbled for a second and then leaned firmly on Steve, their sides pressed together. Tony's head tipped sideways until it rested on Steve's shoulder and Steve smiled into his cold noodles. Tony was warm and relaxed, Steve could feel his fingers twitching against his thigh and hear the beating of his heart, so close.

Steve let his eyes drift shut for a moment. It wasn't often he got a Tony that wasn't all muffled in layers of wit and tease and spin. This was just Tony. Tony unwrapped. That thought led to another thought which Steve aggressively squashed, focusing on Tony's slow breathing beside him instead. He was pretty sure the engineer had drifted off again, but then Tony's face suddenly turned to bury itself into Steve's shoulder, while he sucked in a deep breath through his nose.

"Tony...did you just smell me?"

Tony staggered forward to press himself against Steve even more. "Yeah. You smell like freedom. And patriotism," Tony quipped.

Okay, so the moment was over.

Steve bundled Tony up and carted him off to bed. He was sure he was back up and scribbling notes before Steve had even left Tony's apartment, but his last view had been of a sleepy, happy man curled up under the blankets.

It had been a nice moment.

Steve was snapped rather harshly out of his remembrances by a loud crash as Tony dropped a tool on the concrete floor. It was so jarring in the otherwise silent room that Steve felt his heart rate zip up as adrenaline flooded his body.

He glanced over at Tony who looked just as startled. The engineer gathered up an armful of stuff and scurried over to the couch, trying to balance a pile of tools, computer parts and things with too many wires in his arms.

He dumped everything on the coffee table and sat down hard next to Steve. He scooted up close despite the couch being big enough for Thor and Mjolnir to comfortably share it with them and Steve fought the restless urge to squish even harder up against the arm of the sofa to escape the tension Tony awoke in him.

Tony caught his eye and Steve glanced questioningly at the stuff. Tony picked up his pad.

Checking some of the hard drives for tampering.

Steve merely nodded, not having much to contribute on that front. Tony went to work, delicately working screws out of the hard drive cases and examining what he found inside. His hands could be so delicate and careful. Despite all the coffee he drank and all the manic energy he exuded, when faced with a precise operation, Tony became someone else.

It left Steve breathless.

Steve reached for his pad to ask Tony if there was anything he could do to help, desperate to find something to occupy himself so he wasn't just here alone with his helplessly Tony-tinged thoughts.

And then everything went black.

Steve was suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was sitting to the object of his recent obsessions. In the dark, in the silence, all he had was the heat of Tony's side, his arm, his leg, pressed tight there. His heart immediately began to race.

This time Steve was calmer at the loss of the sense. Unlike his morning panic, he glanced around and knew right away that he wasn't suddenly blind: the power had just gone out. The shutters Tony had covering the windows in here blocked out all light from outside so as not to damage photosensitive tech, but when Steve pushed the buttons on his watch the screen lit up to show him the time. It wasn't enough to see anything by, but it was enough to let him know his eyes were still working.

There was a slight rustle as Tony laid his electronics back on the table and sat back into the couch. Something brushed Steve's hand and he jumped before realizing it was Tony's fingers. Tony carefully spelled out letters on his palm.

F...U...C...

Steve flicked Tony's hand away before he could finish, giving him a little bump with his shoulder that said, "behave." They couldn't just sit here in the dark, though, they needed a way to communicate. Drawing letters could work, but Morse would be better. Pulling Tony's hand back he tapped a message out on his palm in careful, slow, Morse code.

"MORSE?"

There was a pause long enough that Steve assumed Tony didn't know it and started to draw out letters like Tony had done when suddenly Tony started tapping back.

"YES."

Steve tapped again. "PWR?"

"OUT. YES," Tony replied.

"WAIT?" Steve asked.

"YES. BCKUP TEN MINS." Tony had to tap it out twice, but Steve got it. The automatic backup power would kick in in ten minutes. The generator was completely automatic and not at all JARVIS-controlled. Steve remembered Tony telling him about the few things in the tower that JARVIS didn't run and the backup power was one of them. If it didn't kick in they were really in trouble though.

They were both still for a long time, the coded messages being hard to send and even harder to understand didn't make it worth it to converse. Tony's hand still lay on Steve's, his fingers curved, their tips touching Steve's palm, unmoved from Tony's last message.

Ten minutes was a long time to just sit though... Steve half expected Tony to get up and feel his way to the bar, but the engineer stayed where he was. He didn't even shift his weight away from Steve's, staying pressed tightly against him on the couch.

"EEEEEEEEE" Tony suddenly typed out.

"What?" Steve tried to say out loud, but of course, no sounds came. He was just about to tap it back instead, when he realized Tony wasn't sending a message - he was just tapping his finger out of boredom. Stark pretty much never sat still and Steve wasn't surprised to find he was having difficulty doing it now.

His fingertip bounced against Steve's skin a while longer and then his other fingers joined it, his left hand typing on Steve absentmindedly as if he were a keyboard. With the glow of Steve's watch gone the room had shrunk to the size of the couch. The lack of sounds or sight turned their little space into a sensory deprivation tank and the only thing Steve was sure of was himself, the couch beneath him, and the heady, overwhelming presence of Tony.

Tony's hand had stilled again, but only for a second, the fingers that once had tapped were now drawing lazy loops and circles on Steve's palm. The change from the sharp staccato of Tony's bored tapping to this near-caress had Steve feeling dizzy, his sense of touch turned to high alert with the loss of the others.

Confusion, arousal, and frustration were vying for first position in Steve's mind as Tony tortured him. When did he decide that a silly flirtation had gone too far and something needed to be done about it? If Steve could talk he would have demanded that Tony finally explain just what in God's name this was all about, but as it was all he could do was sit and feel Tony's calloused fingertips brush against his palm over and over.

Steve stayed very still for what felt like hours, neither stopping nor encouraging the touch, wondering where Tony would take it. The caress traveled up from his palm to his forearm, exploring the lines of his arm and drifting further towards his elbow with every pass. Steve's arm rested on his thigh and before long Tony's fingers had drifted around to trace along the inside of his arm, brushing against his leg every now and then.

Steve sucked in a hard breath as Tony's fingers brushed especially firmly against Steve's leg, sending a shot of anticipation straight to his groin. There was the tiniest pause in Tony's fingers at that breath as if gauging Steve's reaction and when the super-soldier stayed still Tony began his movements once again, brushing against Steve's leg more earnestly now.

The A/C had cut with the power and the sweltering heat of outside had started to seep in. Sweat sprung up on the back of Steve's neck – half from the rising temperature in the room, and half from the rising internal temperature Tony was eliciting in him.

Tony's fingers came all the way back to Steve's elbow and paused again, eventually slipping down the outside of his elbow to sneak under his arm to the place on his side where his t-shirt met the waistband of his jeans. One finger teased the fabric there then tucked just a tiny bit up under his t-shirt to feel the patch of skin it found. The fingers danced back around Steve's elbow and over his arm to explore his abs boldly.

Steve breathed out and relaxed his arm, tucking it down between them and giving Tony free access to, well, pretty much anything he wanted. Tony's fingers wormed their way across his stomach, still keeping his touch ever-so-light and teasing. Steve realized that at some point Tony must have shifted sideways to face him as it was now his right hand that was currently testing the edge of Steve's waistband.

Steve's breath was coming a little too fast now, the exquisite torture of being teased like that driving him to the edges of his control. His left hand gripped the edge of the sofa hard and his feet were tensed against the floor,

Tony's hand continued to caress more boldly under his shirt, petting his stomach and teasing along the edge of his waistband. Steve was barely keeping it under control. He was hard and straining in his pants, his mind torturing him with thoughts of what Tony might do next, his eyes straining against the pitch black and his ears straining against the pressing silence. A vicious war was raging over whether he should stay still for fear of ruining the moment, or reach out and mirror those movements on Tony's body, feel his skin, slide under his clothes.

Steve wasn't even trying to hide his panting anymore and he could hear Tony's sharp breaths next to him as well. Relieved to hear he wasn't the only one feeling this whatever-it-was he allowed his hand to drift a little, skating over Tony's thigh, spreading his fingers wide to hold on to as much of Tony as possible.

The movement provoked Tony into further action, pressing his fingers harder against Steve's skin, running one finger along the dips between Steve's ab muscles and then slipping it under the edge of his jeans to stroke the soft skin underneath. Steve gripped Tony's thigh hard – too hard, it probably hurt – and Tony finally slid his whole palm softly along Steve's upper thigh, his fingers just brushing Steve's hardness, sending a shudder through his whole body. He felt a warm breath of air against his neck and realized just how close Tony's had shifted, the other man now breathing surprisingly heavily into Steve's shoulder.

The "staying still" game was abruptly surrendered as Steve could hold back no longer.

With a soundless groan he reached over and grabbed Tony's shirt, pulling the other man into his lap. Tony easily straddled his thighs and Steve gripped his hips hard enough to bruise as Tony continued to stroke his chest, stomach, and legs through his clothes. He teased around Steve's erection, barely brushing it with every other pass. Steve ground his hips up into the touch and felt the billionaire rut up against him uncontrollably, sending another shot of arousal straight south.

Tony suddenly changed gears, pulling his hands away from Steve's bare skin to start pawing at the buttons on Steve's jeans. Steve sucked a deep breath and grabbed a handful of Tony's shirt again, preparing to finally give in and press his lips to those of the man astride him.

And then the lights came on.

The backup generator powered on with an almighty groan and the room was instantly filled with lights and the whirring of electronics coming once more to life.

Both men startled at the sudden change and Steve looked up at Tony. He looked amazingly debauched. His shirt was rucked up and crumpled, his hair was wild and his eyes were blown with lust. His legs were still clamped around Steve's thighs, his fingertips tucked in the waistband of Steve's pants, paused in the act of unbuttoning them.

There was a long, still silence as the two men stared each other down. It was one thing to grope one another in the dark and quiet, but now, seeing each other, it was different. No longer caught up in the moment it was a conscious choice to stop now or continue.

Tony looked like a deer in traffic staring wide-eyed at Steve's face. Okay, Steve thought, this is it, Tony hadn't bolted, if he went for it now, they would have to acknowledge it. He canted his hips forward ever so slightly and felt the gentle puff of air as Tony let out a tiny, silent gasp. Giving in to the urge he surged forward once again, to kiss Tony and bring them somewhere they couldn't come back from.

Just as their lips were about to touch there was unholy clang in the hallway outside the workshop and a loud thud, followed by the opening of the workshop door. Tony instantly evaporated out of his lap, his shirt ripped from Steve's fingers, leaving them tingling. Steve scrambled to straighten his clothes and flatten his hair as quickly as possible. He still felt like he looked like he'd been dragged through a hedge backwards when Natasha and Clint stepped through the doorway, signing vigorously to each other, but when he risked a glance at Tony the other man was entirely put back together, lounging on the other side of the couch, poking at the hard drive in his hands, seemingly unaffected by what they'd just done.

Steve, however, was very much not unaffected and shifted himself carefully on the couch, as far away from Tony as possibly, attempting to subtly adjust his pants into a more comfortable position as he did so.

Clint immediately started scribbling on his pad, sparing no glance to the disheveled pair on the couch. Natasha, however, gave Steve a once over and raised one eyebrow ever so slightly. Steve ignored her, desperately.

Well we're officially stuck. All doors out to the hanger, ground floor, and emergency exits are locked tight. There's also some weird shit going on.

Natasha rolled her eyes and signed something, incredulously.

I swear to god the hanger door shocked me.

Clint tapped the paper a few times with his paper for emphasis.

Maybe you shouldn't shuffle your feet around when you walk. Natasha suggested.

Clint gave her the finger – a sign they could all understand. Tony sat up and was looking at Clint curiously before grabbing his own paper.

The door handle shocked you?

Yes! And I know it wasn't just static because I pulled at it for a moment BEFORE it shocked me.

Natasha still looked like she didn't believe him, but Tony was looking pretty deep in thought. Steve pulled out his own notepad to ask him what he was thinking, but the conversation had already moved on. Clint and Nat listed all the doors they had tried and Tony nodded – that was all of them. Steve crossed out what he'd started and instead wrote:

Do any of them have a secret opening thingy like the one you apparently have for the workshop?

He gestured to the pile of keys now sitting on the table next to Tony's project. Tony shook his head, but with his brow furrowed concernedly. Eventually he started to write.

Only internal doors. We should find the others, see what they found out. There's nothing here.

Tony tossed the computer equipment back on the table. Steve had the feeling Tony was pondering something he didn't want to share and that made him nervous. Tony knew this building better than anyone and if something weird was going on they all needed to know. Once again Steve felt the frustration of not being able to speak. He hadn't realized how much pushing and prodding he usually gave Tony, not letting the other man slither out of sharing his thoughts with the team. It was harder on paper.

The two spies set off for the hall and Tony trailed after them, ignoring Steve. With a silent little huff, Steve hauled himself off the couch and followed. They reached the hall as a group and all at once all the lights flickered out and then on again. They shared a look, but continued on towards the stairs.

Clint reached the stair door first and pushed to open it but nothing happened. He pushed again, but the door didn't open. Nat was just reaching out to help him when it suddenly gave and swung open. Clint tripped forwards through the door and gave Nat a look like "See?! Doors hate me today." She just nodded condescendingly and patted his arm, shooing him up the stairs.

The hike up to the top floors of the Tower was a tiring, but uneventful one. Tony began his stair-induced silent muttering again and Steve tried not to smile as the older man's breath came harder with each floor.

Natasha pushed open the door that led out into the penthouse hallway. Contrary to most visitors' expectations, the top floors weren't Tony's apartment. His space began three floors down, opening out onto the Ironman landing strip. The top two floors boasted a bar, a full-size movie theatre and the access to the roof.

Neither Bruce nor Thor was in the bar so Steve opened the door to the cavernous theatre. It was empty, but he stepped inside anyway to be sure. His ears were instantly assaulted as the sound system came to life at near full volume.

Steve clapped his hands over his ears and spun around to stare at the screen. It had started playing recordings of Steve's old Captain America stories they played before movies during the war. He knew there were digital copies stored on Stark's servers somewhere, but they'd never watched them. It was eerily pointed that the screen had spontaneously started playing his own movies when he entered the otherwise empty room. He couldn't help but glance over to the control panel at the back of the room, but no one was there.

The movie played on and Steve slipped back out the room. He could hear the announcer describing the Howling Commandos as the door shut behind him.

Tony must have noticed his expression as he reentered the bar because he raised his eyebrows at him questioningly, but Steve just shook his head.

They tried the door to the roof, but it wouldn't open so they headed back towards the stairs. They were just turning the corner towards the door when Bruce and Thor appeared in the hall, coming towards them from the other direction. They had a brief moment of silent expectation as each group hoped the either might have some information, but it was just a series of head shakes and frowns.

Clint gave the others an update. All exits are locked. Stark found nothing telling in the workshop.

Tony nodded as he read it, but he had a strange expression on his face.

Nothing in the lab, couldn't get on the roof as I'm sure you've already tried. I ran a few tests on Thor and me using some equipment Reed lent me and it's definitely magic.

So we've all been hit by a spell to make us unable to speak, with no clear motive? And we're all trapped inside here? Natasha asked with concern.

Thor looked much less worried than anyone else, always having an upbeat approach to the little difficulties they never seemed to be short of. An interesting spell though! I have never seen something quite like this. It is strange.

Steve happened to be looking across the room and saw Bruce mouth the word "strange". He snapped his fingers suddenly and everyone looked at him, startled. He picked up his pad and started scribbling furiously.

Dr. Strange. I was talking to him a few weeks ago about some time manipulation concepts that have an impact on Jane's research and he made some comment about the vast majority of known magical artifacts being missing from any of the collections he is aware of. They were lost during battles, or ransacks and never surfaced again. I feel like this is exactly the sort of thing that could be an artifact effect.

Ah yes, a talisman. - Thor nodded. - That kind of magic is done on Asgard too. The cursed item would merely need to be inside the tower to be affecting us.

There was a long pause while they all read and processed his message.

What would it look like? Natasha wrote.

Bruce just shrugged. I don't know, but destroying it would almost certainly break the spell.

It could be anything? Clint asked.

Tony chimed in. Well, it's probably some ancient-looking glowy gizmo, like the shit Strange is always flinging around. It's got to be pretty obvious.

Or a book, Thor added, calmly.

Tony mouthed "what?" at Thor.

Books are very common magical artifacts. There are many mystical tomes in our library back on Asgard. It could certainly be a book.

Tony's face fell and Steve knew why. There was a library the size of a small country in the Tower, it would be so easy for someone to sneak a magical book in there and they'd probably never find it. Natasha finally took up her pen.

Well, it's something to go on, so I say we run with it. Whatever it is we need to try to find it. Broad pass first. C & I will take library. B & T check the common areas. S & T check the labs and workshops. We'll meet back in the library and all take a second look together. If we can't find it, we'll work together to find a way to get a message to Strange. If he can get in the building, maybe with his sling ring, he will have better luck searching for it.

Look first for things that weren't there yesterday. - Bruce added - I gather these things don't usually have a long lead time.

They all nodded, stood awkwardly for a second and then turned and filed out.

As soon as Steve and Tony branched off from the others the lights started flickering and popping down the hallway as they went. They decided as one to take a shortcut through the large kitchen that connected to the massive open space they held Avengers and SI events in. From there they knew an open staircase would take them up the overhead balcony and through a set of doors to Bruce's private lab.

When they stepped into the kitchen all the lights began to glow brighter and brighter, as if a dimmer switch was being pushed to its limits. Tony unconsciously took a few steps back and a second later every bulb in the room exploded, showering the ground with broken glass and plunging them back into relative darkness. This room had huge picture windows along one wall, but the clouded morning light felt almost night-like after the blinding glow of the overpowered bulbs.

The two picked their way carefully through the glass, steering clear of the appliances that now beeped and blinked at them as they moved. The Tower was alive and it was starting to feel like it had something against them. Steve shifted unconsciously closer to Tony, his natural protective instincts taking over.

The last hallway towards Bruce's lab was distressingly quiet. After the assault they had experienced getting up here it put them both on edge to find the space quiet, still and normally lit. Steve could feel the tension radiating off of Tony. Automatically they both slowed their pace suspiciously as they approached the closed glass doors. The lights inside were dim and nothing moved, flashed, or made noise.

It felt like an ambush.

Steve caught Tony's gaze and saw his eyes were hard and his jaw was tense. Steve pulled out his paper.

This doesn't feel right.

I know. But it might be in there. Have to look.

Stay behind me.

Tony gave Steve a look, but the taller man put on his best "Captain face" and Tony quickly caved. Steve reached forward and opened the door, stepping back in front of Tony, but nothing happened. They waited for a moment, but all was still. Steve stepped forward cautiously, Tony pressed tightly against his back, eager for entrance.

They both stood for a few breaths and all remained quiet. Tony, finally, could wait no longer and pushed past Steve, turning back to give him a triumphant smile. His brown eyes twinkled and Steve was momentarily caught up in their glow.

And then, as he stepped forward, his super-powered hearing caught the sound of a quiet hissing coming from the corner of the room.

Steve reached out desperately and was just wrapping his hand around Tony's upper arm when the soft "click" came.

The room exploded.

Steve whipped Tony around so Steve's back was to the blast and Tony's smaller body was shielded by his own. The impact slid them across the room and into the hallway outside. They hit the wall on the opposite side hard, not even having enough time or space to slip from the upright position. Steve's other hand had come up behind Tony's head and it cracked painfully against the wall, protecting Tony's head from the impact, but breaking a few of Steve's hand bones in the process.

The rush of air and flame that burst out of the lab licked up Steve's back and singed his hair. Tony finally reacted, clenching his hands in Steve's shirt and gasping as the shock knocked the breath out of his lungs. The explosion ended as quickly as it began leaving Tony and Steve pressed against the wall, scalded and bruised, but alive.

Steve took a second to catch his breath, eyes closed. His arms were still braced on either side of Tony and his forehead was pressed against the wall over Tony's shoulder. He didn't even give a thought to the warm body trapped under his until he felt Tony's hands fluttering all over his chest. He stepped back to give him space to breathe, casting his eyes quickly over Tony's body, looking for damage. When his eyes slid up to Tony's face, he saw the billionaire was doing the same thing, scanning Steve for injury, his hands still clenched in Steve's shirt.

The burns on his back were already beginning to heal and the bones in his hand were only lightly fractured – he barely felt it. Tony had a few scrapes and his hair looked a little the worse for wear, but otherwise he seemed okay, and Steve breathed a sigh of relief at the sight.

Their eyes met and they held the gaze for a long time. There was a smudge of soot on Tony's cheek and Steve traced it with his eyes, dipping down to his mouth, still slightly open as Tony sucked in oxygen gratefully. Steve vowed then and there that – though this was not the time – someday he would get to taste those lips. Someday, before he died, even if it was only once, he needed to know what it was like to kiss Tony Stark.

For now, however, they had a spell to break and a Tower to put back to rights. He gave Tony another once over, making him spin around to check his back and then doing the same for Tony when he insisted. Tony grimaced at the shape of Steve back, but Steve suspected it was mostly shredded shirt and debris over actual damage and when he flinched away from Tony's touch, the other man let it go.

Tony fumbled with his pen and paper and Steve saw his hand was shaking as he wrote.

Well, I don't think it's in there.

Steve actually had to fight back a laugh. He gave Tony a smile and shook his head in agreement. The lab was still smoking slightly but nothing had caught fire. The gas explosion had been quick and dangerous, but now the danger seemed to have passed. Still, neither man found they had the desire to go in and look around – even if the artifact could have survived the blast.

Tony tapped his pen against the paper for a moment, staring into the space above Steve's shoulder.

We're never going to find it this way and eventually we will actually get blown up. We should be able to figure this out with our wits alone.

He paused again, doodled a nearly unrecognizable DUM-E in the corner of the paper and then started writing again.

It's not as easy to break in here as everyone thinks. Someone couldn't just wander in a put an evil book between "Intro to Quantum Mechanics" and Clint's Barbie diary. They're not going to find it in the library...

"SO WHERE?" Steve mouthed and Tony frowned at him. "WHERE?" He mouthed back contemplatively. His mouth started moving more and more as he thought and Steve only caught about every fourth word. Several times he looked like he'd had a thought, but then shook his head and scribbled some more on his pad absentmindedly.

Steve wracked his brain, but just couldn't think how a dangerous magical object could have made it into the tower. He was pretty sure he hadn't bought anything recently, they hadn't had any guests for weeks and the last few times had been all people they knew and trusted completely.

It's not like any of us would take a sparkly amulet handed to us by a complete stranger on the street and tuck it into our bedside table. He wrote, exasperated. His words were dark and scratchy with frustration as he attacked the paper with his pen.

Tony's eyes suddenly snapped up to Steve's and his hands wrapped tightly around Steve's upper arms. "MAIL" he mouthed carefully. Steve shook his head, confused "WHAT?" Tony fumbled for his notepad.

Mail, the attacker could have mailed it to us. We'd never know.

We don't get that much mail, Tony, and we open it all right away. Don't you think it would have stood out? I've only had a few letters in the past couple days.

Steve, don't be ridiculous, we get tons of mail. Mountains of mail. Did you seriously think a few letters from kids is all that gets sent to you? There are like 300 fan mails a week and most of them are from middle-aged housewives describing things they want to do to you while their husbands are at work. I used to have those sent to my room, but they got too dirty even for me.

Steve just mouthed "WHAT?" again with a little more desperation.

We screen the mail, Steve. It gets delivered here in buckets – letters and packages and wacky stuff. Someone tried to ship us a live piglet in a Hawkeye costume once. Don't ask me why, I seriously don't know. It's living on a farm now and that's not a euphemism. I think they named it Porkeye. Anyway, there are SI interns that sort all that stuff and only the good stuff that gets through goes up to our apartments.

Really?

Steve was stunned. It had never occurred to him that so many people would want to write them. He couldn't help but wonder what kinds of things the housewives were writing about... The sounds of Tony's pen scratching banished any further exploration of that thought.

Yes. It's a Saturday. That means it could have been delivered by courier late yesterday and no one would have seen it until Monday. We need to get to the mailroom. It's in the basement.

The trip to the basement was a treacherous one. Several times a door refused to open and they were forced to go back up to a higher floor, cross to the other stairwell and try again, or go through the arduous process of pulling the floor apart to access the key port. The lights flickered continuously the whole time, occasionally in eerie patterns, and followed them down hallways, or lit up certain doors plunging the rest of the stairwell in darkness.

Twice the speakers JARVIS usually spoke through started blasting Tony's music at ear-splitting levels, setting them both on edge. By the time they reached the basement they were both on high alert, though at least nothing else had exploded - yet.

Tony used his key ring to release the lock to the mailroom door. Steve pushed it open and his jaw dropped.

There were packages and bins of letters completely filling the small space. Whichever interns were in charge of organizing this were clearly playing on their phones and smoking out back instead of doing their jobs. It looked like a post office had tripped and spilled all over the room.

Tony had a similar look of shock on his face. He mouthed a few words that Steve was pretty sure he recognized, then shoved past Steve and started pushing some boxes out of the way.

After a few minutes of random digging, Steve grabbed his arm and indicated they needed a system. Without talking they devised a sorting plan and started examining and stacking each package. After about twenty minutes Tony was starting to look tired and Steve held up his pad, giving Tony an excuse to take a break.

How did a dangerous magical artifact get through anyway? Don't you have security down here?

Tony gritted his teeth as he wrote out his answer.

I have my theories as to how they got around that...

He went to go back to the pile of packages but Steve grabbed his arm.

Tony, it's time to tell me what you're not telling me.

Tony at least had the decency to look guilty instead of denying it. He wrote for a long time and Steve, too eager for an answer started reading over this shoulder as he wrote.

I think I know why we've all been be-spelled. It's not so much a distraction as it is a disability. It's fairly obvious someone has managed to hack into JARVIS's control systems and they've probably been in here, silently, for some time. They knew that as soon as they started to exert that control one of us would notice and I would use the override codes to shut it all down. There are microphones around that are always turned on, even JARVIS can't turn them off, they don't record, but they're listening. It means I can call the suit no matter what, and that if anything goes wrong with JARVIS I can use an override code. The hacker knew that, I don't know how, probably digging through my code for a while now, and decided that the best way to stop that from happening was to steal our voices. It's pretty ingenious actually. Order some black-market, voice-stealing artifact off of, like, ebay, or whatever, mail it in, subtly sneak it past security scans using the systems he's already got his tentacles in. It didn't need to get sorted upstairs, in fact, it was better if it didn't because then we'd never find it. He could take us out or capture us one by one using our own home against us. It took him a while to figure out the controls, but he seems to be getting the hang of it. The Tower is getting more aggressive.

Tony stopped writing and tapped his pen nervously on the pad while Steve caught up. Getting the hang of it was maybe putting it mildly. The attacker had managed to turn on the gas in Bruce's lab and light the Bunsen burner right when they entered the room. That was a pretty frightening level of control.

Steve had about a thousand questions but he started with: override code?

Tony carefully wrote out the next line as clearly as possible.

If you get the chance you say " Override code 39819576F". It'll put everything in the tower on manual, open all the locks, stop the elevators. Everything just stops. The hacker will lose all control.

Steve read it three times until he was sure he had it memorized and then nodded. Tony didn't write any more so Steve pushed him.

So how long have you had all this figured out?

Well, I had my suspicions ever since Clint said he got shocked by the door handle to the hanger. That electronic lock always had a short in it and instead of fixing it properly I fudged a work-around. It means JARVIS just has to flex the right electronic muscles and that doorknob becomes a little bit deadly. It didn't seem to matter at the time. JARVIS was never going to shock anyone and if I ever realized my dream of reenacting Home Alone with you and Clint as the robbers and me as Macaulay Culkin I've already got one of my booby traps ready to go.

Somehow Tony was managing to babble on paper. He started to write more but Steve grabbed his pen hand and stilled it.

Okay, let's just find the package before he figures out any more controls.

Tony nodded and waded back into the stack of packages. It took nearly forty more minutes but finally the room was almost sorted and Tony let out a soundless cry and pushed a wheelie bin out of the way, lifting up the cardboard box tucked behind it.

It was glowing green.

Steve pointed it and raised his eyebrows like "umm, that's glowing" and Tony rolled his eyes, a clear "duh". Tony tossed the package to Steve to open.

He gripped the edge of the box and pulled hard, but it wouldn't give. What looked to be cardboard and tape, was actually something much more mystical. Seeing the trouble Steve was having Tony came over and poked at the box himself. They shared a look at each other and then down at the box.

Steve flattened his palms against the sides and squeezed as hard as he could. He could almost feel the tiniest amount of give to the box, but not enough to damage it. It was going to take more power than he had with his bare hands and the shield was locked all the way up in his bedroom. After pondering it for a moment Steve got Tony's attention and mimed a hammer smashing down on the box. Maybe Mjolnir could destroy it – if not they could always get Bruce to touch the dodgy doorknob and see if the Hulk could take care of it.

Tony nodded and turned back towards the door to begin seeking out the others.

The library was on one of the common floors that housed a lot of gyms, studios and other "activity" rooms. They continued to be assaulted by lights and sounds as the traipsed up the stairs. Luckily there wasn't much more the attacker could control in these spaces. As long as they avoided rooms like labs and workshops they should be alright. JARVIS controlled a lot of things, but the stairs and hallways were blissfully empty of dangerous chemicals.

As the stepped out of the stairwell onto the library's floor, the elevator doors to their right popped enticingly open. The lights along the hall starting flicking on and off in a continuous line leading from where they were to the open elevator doors.

The two men shared a nervous glance. It was so obviously a trap, Steve started suspecting that its actual goal was to get them to run in the opposite direction.

They continued cautiously along the hallway, away from the elevators and towards the library when a muffled crash startled them from a few feet down the hall. Tony jogged forward to peer into the room it emanated from. Steve caught up to him and looked in too. The room that housed the swimming pool was still and quiet, no obvious cause for the noise, but they both knew that through a door at the back was the locker rooms – rooms with electronic locks. One of the others could easily be trapped in there.

Tony pushed the glass door open and they slipped cautiously inside. This time Tony stuck behind Steve without having to be told – though the room was almost empty and it was hard to see how it posed a threat. The clear glass pool cover was in place, or as Tony liked to call it "coolest dance floor ever mode" and a stack of floaties and pool toys lay haphazardly in the opposite corner. The locker room had cubbies with locks and showers and all kinds of worrying things, but the pool room, by its very nature, was mostly just pool.

The cover was as strong as the rest of the floor and they had experimented with keeping furniture on it, but found it was actually used as a pool often enough that it was better to leave the room empty. It was eerie empty; too quiet in there now.

Steve set the package down by the door and inched his way around towards the locker room door, waiting for another noise, explosion – something.

But there was nothing.

The locker room was empty and nothing jumped out at him, though the air dryers did turn on as he walked by – just a reminder he was being watched he supposed. He headed back out to the pool room and stared at Tony. He was across the room digging through the pile of floaties. He eventually emerged with an armful of inflated plastic and started back across the room, fighting comically with the limbs of the whatever-it-was.

He was about halfway across the room when he suddenly staggered to the side and disappeared.

Steve surged forward, grabbing the edge of the glass cover that had whipped open just as it started to close again. Tony had been close to the edge when it opened and he had slipped right into the water. The cover immediately began to close again, but Steve braced his legs against the edge of the pool and gripped the cover hard.

He could hear the grinding of the gears and belts in the automated cover's machinery, but it didn't give. The pressure against his hands was immense and he found himself slipping backward a bit. The cover was now only open a few inches. Tony had found his bearings and risen back up in the water, but found the bottom of the smooth glass where fresh air should have been. He pressed against the pool wall and managed to suck in a half-water-half-air breath next to Steve's hands, but the gap wasn't enough for Tony to get out and Steve wouldn't be able to hold it forever.

Steve summoned all his strength and heaved against the cover, but it didn't even budge, its pressure steady and unyielding. The fractured bones in Steve's hand from the explosion earlier were screaming, but he barely felt them. The sight of Tony's hands pressed against the underside of the glass was making his stomach churn and the adrenaline rush had his heart beating so loud, it was all he could hear.

Steve's grip gave a tiny bit more and Tony's eyes tensed with fear. He grabbed another risky breath, fighting to stay up close to the tiny gap.

Steve was fairly sure he wouldn't be able to break the glass – it was tempered and thick – but it was all he could think to do. The only problem was that he would have to let go of the cover to try and break it, and then if he couldn't Tony would be completely trapped...

Tears sprung into Steve's eyes from a combination of pain, frustration, and fear for Tony. Maybe there was a way to drain some of the water. Now it nearly pressed against the glass that covered it, but even a foot of space would be enough for Tony to breathe while they figured out how to get him out. It presented the same problem though, he had to let go to figure out how to drain it. Tony could drown while he was messing about with plugs and filters and even then if this damn pool was like everything else in this damn tower the attacker probably had a way to fill it right back up again. Steve screamed angrily, but the room remained quiet save for the groaning of the cover's gears.

Steve's hands slipped a little once again and Tony and Steve locked eyes through the glass. He couldn't hold the cover back much longer and he had no idea what to do. Tony would probably know what to do, but if he did he couldn't tell Steve. Steve just desperately wanted to hear his voice, babbling about manual overrides and how to break tempered glass. But instead he was silent, just staring into Steve's eyes with a calm kind of desperation that broke Steve's heart.

And then across the room a slight movement at the door. Someone was out there. Steve braced his right leg and smacked his other against the glass. Luckily his boots had a metal loop on the back and the sound echoed nicely. The door flung open and Steve's heart surged with hope – it was Thor.

Thor sized up the situation immediately and ran over to help Steve, but the super-soldier risked a loose hand to gesture wildly towards the box by the door, giving up another inch of the gap as he did so. He mimed a hammer and almost cried with relief when Thor spun around and raised Mjolnir over his head.

Just as Steve's fingers slipped yet another inch and the cover shifted far enough that Tony could no longer take a breath, there was a bright flash that filled the whole room followed by an enormous crack of thunder, loud enough to set Steve's ears ringing.

He hadn't realized that he had been trying to scream the whole time Tony was under, but he must have been because when his hearing came back the first the thing he heard was his own voice yelling "-ONY!"

It only took a moment for Steve to process the change before he was calling out "JARVIS OVERRIDE 39819576F!" there was stillness for a beat and Steve's heart sunk. If JARVIS couldn't hear him from here he didn't know what to do. He'd have to leave Tony drowning while he ran around trying to find a locked microphone.

Then, so suddenly he almost fell in, the cover released all tension and slid back several feet, wheeling loose on its track. Steve immediately reached in, grabbed Tony by the back of his shirt and hauled him out onto the deck.

He coughed and spluttered, alternating choking up pool water with sucking in damp, but grateful breaths, cheek against the tile. Steve gently pinned Tony to the deck of the pool with a hand on his back irrationally sure that if he let go Tony would slide back in and be trapped again. His hands were cracked and bleeding and his legs were soaked from where he'd slipped into the pool pulling Tony out, but he didn't even notice. He had his voice – and his Tony – back, and that was all that mattered.

Thor jogged over, trailing smoke and bits of package. There would be no telling now what type of artifact it had been, but Steve couldn't care less. He found he was rubbing Tony's back absentmindedly while the engineer cleared the rest of the water from his lungs. When his breathing relaxed from desperate gasping to gentle panting Steve leaned forward.

"Tony, are you okay? Do you need anything?"

Tony rolled onto his back and looked over at Steve. "Nice to hear your voice, Cap," he said with a wink. Thor looked questioningly at Steve who nodded.

"He's fine."

"Thank Odin," Thor boomed, "that was most distressing. How did Tony come to be in the pool?"

"Long story," Steve managed, finally tipping back onto the tile next to Tony, closing his eyes and allowing his heartbeat to return to normal.

The long story ended up being told mostly by Steve, back in the common room with the rest of the gang. Now all dried off Steve sat on the couch while Natasha bandaged his hands, and explained the package, the hacker, and the pool. Tony sat curled up on an armchair, three tablets spread out in his lap, tapping madly while frowning and making little, frustrated noises every few minutes, his towel-touseled hair sticking up at mad angles.

As Steve regaled the others with their sodden tale Clint suddenly interrupted him to turn to Tony.

"Tony, why were you messing around with the floaties anyway?"

Tony actually blushed a little and pouted, refusing to meet Steve's eye. He mumbled something and Natasha laughed, but Clint poked him to speak up.

"I got a new inflatable Cap on ebay and I wanted to show Steve," he grumbled, fully aware of the harassment he was about to receive.

"Tony, are you telling me you almost died in front of me because you wanted to show off more of your ridiculous collection of bizarre Captain America themed crap you find on the internet?" Steve asked him sternly.

Tony just huffed. "I am doing important computer security things here, go back to Story Hour with Steven and leave me alone. I almost died twice, you know, be nice to me."

Steve rolled his eyes, but Clint laughed out loud. Bruce was shaking his head, but smiling, and Steve found it was catching. He finished his story and Tony assured them all he was working to fix the security hole and trace back whoever it was who had broken in.

Honestly, Steve didn't really care. He was tired and sore, and now that everyone was safe and talking again he just desperately wanted to know where he stood with Tony. Were they just going to go back to the way things were? Would Tony continue to taunt, tease and grope Steve every chance he got without it ever turning into anything more?

Even though it had been a horrible day Steve was kind of wishing they could have just stayed in that dark, quiet workshop a little longer. What would have happened if Clint and Natasha had taken just ten more minutes to check the door? Would Tony still currently be acting like Steve didn't exist if they had?

Steve noticed with surprise that while he was pondering that everyone else had filed out of the room. Tony still sat absorbed in his work, but the two of them were alone.

Steve got the urge to seize the opportunity to figure this out.

"Tony?" He started.

"You know, Steve, this is really very impressive. There are traces here that this guy infiltrated ages ago, I've even upgraded the code since then, but he remained hidden. JARVIS had no idea anything was wrong throughout this entire debacle. We were dumb, he was blind. It's pretty amazing. When we find this person we should have the Hulk rip all their limbs off while I film it and then after that we should probably try and recruit them."

"Yeah, that sounds like a great idea, Tony. Could I just ask you somethin-"

"Look at this!" Tony held up a tablet with gibberish covering the screen. "How cool is that?"

Steve sighed. "I don't know what that means Tony."

"Yeah..." Tony trailed off, absorbed completely in the code in front of him. He would probably be here for hours. It was no use, really.

Steve stood, feeling all kinds of annoyed all of a sudden, and left the room. Tony didn't even seem to notice. Steve wandered back to his rooms, his anger building. Tony kept working him up and then forgetting he existed. If he wasn't so goddamn in love with the man he'd probably never want to speak to him again. God, it was irritating.

He kicked a pillow idly across the living room, enjoying the little "thumf" it made when it hit the wall.

And the most irritating part was that for all his irritatingness, Steve really did love Tony. He wanted to go back down and sit on the couch and watch Tony poke at his code for hours and bring him food when he forgot to eat and carry him to bed when he fell asleep even though he knew Tony wouldn't even remember Steve existed for several hours yet. It was more than a little heart-breaking.

Steve tipped down onto his couch, picking a book up off the coffee table, figuring he would read for a bit to try and draw himself out of his own head before he went to bed.

Before he could open the cover there was the barest of knocks on Steve's door and his forehead furrowed as he wondered who it could be. He wasn't even sure it was a knock, it was so light. A non-super-soldier probably wouldn't even have caught it. It took him a moment to put down his book and wrench open the door and there was Tony, no tablets in hand, turning slightly away as if about to give up and leave.

Tony looked distinctly uncomfortable, but turned back to Steve, taking a deep breath and steeling himself. "So, um," he looked everywhere but at Steve. "I guess we should, you know, talk."

"Uhh, yeah, I guess so," Steve replied carefully, not wanting to spook Tony out of whatever he was doing. He stepped back from the door so Tony could come in. He shut the door behind him and turned back around to find Tony fiddling with the book Steve had just been holding. He opened and shut it nervously before setting it down again.

Tony turned to look at Steve and there was a long, very uncomfortable silence. Steve racked his brain for where to start. Was Tony here to talk about what happened in the workshop? Or did he mean something else? Had he already found the hacker? If not, why was he here instead of up to his ears in electronics? He was at a loss.

Tony opened his mouth a few times as if to speak, but nothing came out. Sighing he stepped a little closer to Steve and he could see the tension in Tony's jaw as he struggled. Steve licked his lips nervously ready to say anything just so someone would say something, but Tony's eyes flickered down to watch Steve's tongue dart out of his mouth and there was something there and it was enough.

"Screw talking," Steve snapped out. There was just enough time to register the shock on Tony's face before he grabbed a handful of the engineer's shirt and pulled him close, finally pressing their lips together.

Tony instantly melted into the kiss, bringing his own hands up to press against Steve's sides. The tension mounted exponentially and Steve finally broke with a gasp, running a line of sloppy kisses along Tony's jawline and down his neck.

Tony croaked out, "JARVIS, lights," as Steve pushed him backwards onto the couch, and they were plunged into darkness.

It was the last either of them spoke for a while.

Steve curled over Tony, sprawled on the couch, and Tony's hands pawed desperately up at Steve's clothes, his mouth breathing hot, hard breaths into Steve's ear. Tony finally found the bottom of Steve's t-shirt and slid his hands up under the fabric, spreading his finger pads out over the skin he found there. The gesture brought a flush to Steve's face, but in the dark it didn't matter. He felt free and uninhibited. The thrill from finally getting to act on the urges he'd been having for so long made his head spin.

Tony flicked the button open on Steve's pants and teased the crease of Steve's hip. Steve sucked in a breath at the contact and brought his knee up between Tony's legs. Tony found the pressure from his thigh and ground against it, thrusting his hips forward. They were panting into each other's mouths, too caught up to even kiss anymore, but not wanting to pull apart any further.

Steve propped himself up with one hand, but the other explored Tony freely – touching everything he'd ever longed to touch. Pushing his shirt out of the way he slid his palm up Tony's ribs, feeling every ridge. It was exhilarating.

Tony's hand had worked its way even deeper in Steve's pants, but wasn't full out stroking him yet and the buildup was killing him. He was just about to grab Tony's hand and help guide him where he needed to be when a loud buzzing filled the room, startling them both.

Steve was about to say something about constant interruptions, but Tony just reached out blindly, grabbing his phone from where it had tipped onto the floor and flinging it to the side, hard. There was an electronic crunch and the buzzing stopped. Tony surged up, pulling Steve into another hard kiss while his hand snaked down again to finally wrap around Steve's painfully hard cock.

Steve couldn't help the groan that slipped out and Tony gasped at the sound, grinding up again against Steve's leg. Tony starting stroking Steve slow and steady, his grip hard and deliciously foreign.

It was a long moment before Steve realized he had stilled under Tony's ministrations. He set his hands to work again, pushing Tony's shirt up even higher, then reaching down to pop open the button on Tony's pants. In the dark he could barely make out the shape below him, but he could hear Tony's telltale gasps and moans and feel the softness of his belly, the muscles flexing up every time he pressed forward to rut against Steve's leg and the tension of his erection, still trapped in his boxers.

Steve pawed at his pants and Tony raised his hips a little to allow Steve to pull them down further. Tony chose that moment to increase the speed of his strokes and Steve faltered, gripping Tony's hip in his free hand to steady himself. It felt so good and the pressure was building. He knew he wouldn't make it much longer.

Sensing his tension Tony pressed forward and, keeping the tempo of his hand quick and even, showered Steve in attention in every other way. Tony's other hand petted him everywhere, his mouth was hot and wet all over Steve's neck and jawline and his ankle hooked around Steve's using the leverage to grind up against him, pushing his own erection in Steve's hip.

It was all too much and with a cut-off moan Steve pressed forward and came hard all over Tony's bare stomach. Tony relaxed into the couch, one hand slipping around Steve's neck to draw him into a panting kiss.

Instead of feeling drained by his intense orgasm, Steve felt invigorated and desperate to make Tony feel the same way. Almost immediately he slipped away from the kiss and shimmied down Tony's body, stopping to kiss or touch any bare skin he could find on the way with either hands or mouth. Tony's hands fluttered uselessly around for a moment, but then stilled, letting Steve have his way.

Steve's bandaged hand slipped through the cooling cum on Tony's stomach, but he ignored it, wiggling Tony's jeans down further, along with his boxers. Finally, his length slipped free and Steve gripped his hips hard enough to leave a mark. The damage to his hands was totally forgotten as Steve flew high above pain and discomfort.

In the dark Steve nuzzled into the crook of Tony's hip feeling his way along with his tongue. When he finally slipped Tony into his mouth there was a sharp gasp from the end of the couch and Tony's whole body tensed under Steve.

It was exhilarating feeling the force of nature that was Tony Stark pliant and willing under him. Tony gave completely into the sensation, giving little, aborted thrusts of his hips, but no more. One hand came down to wind into Steve's hair, but it didn't press, or guide him, merely held there, anchoring them together.

Steve set a rhythm like Tony had with his hands, slow and tortuous. He thought back to the workshop and Tony's painful teasing and turned it back on the engineer tenfold. Ever so slowly he teased and tasted with his tongue, sliding his fingertips down Tony's inner thighs and up again. The man under him was nearly shaking with tension, but didn't give in and demand more.

Slowly Steve began to increase the intensity, sliding down deeper, sucking in more of Tony and moving faster and faster. Tony's fingers curled into his hair painfully, still not pressing, but gripping against the building pressure. This spurred Steve even further into action and soon he was setting a punishing pace, sliding his hot mouth around all of Tony's cock and sucking down until his nose was pressed against Tony's skin. It was hard and fast now, far from the feather-light teasing that had started this fire in them.

Tony's legs started shaking and he gave a little tug on Steve's hair in warning before coming hard into Steve's mouth. Steve backed off a little, not confident in his ability to swallow, and let it spill out of his mouth and over his chin. Tony whimpered at the sensation and then groaned, relaxing once more into the couch cushions.

For a long moment they both just lay there, panting. Steve was still scrunched up halfway down the couch and Tony's fingers still wound through his hair, but neither moved. At first Steve's stillness was to recover his breath, but as the moment began to stretch out Steve become more and more uncomfortable. In the dark he couldn't see Tony's face and he didn't know if he should say something, or move, or bring the lights up. He couldn't leave – this was his apartment and that would be weird – but he didn't know if there was something that was expected of him. Was Tony going to fall asleep? Walk out? Pretend it hadn't happened – or maybe even worse, acknowledge that it had, but brush it off as nothing important and move on to his next conquest?

The silence dragged out and Steve began to worry that Tony actually had fallen asleep when he felt the hand in his hair relax and slide around to cup the side of his face.

"JARVIS, lights, 20 percent," Tony finally croaked out, almost a whisper. The lights came up gently and Steve looked up to find Tony staring down at him affectionately. "Wow. That looks as amazing as I thought it would. Next time I want to see the face you make when you come." Tony smiled and Steve couldn't help but smile back. Next time was a good sign. The finger tucked against his jaw drew a sultry line across Steve's lips and down his chin. "Come here." Tony tugged gently at that chin and Steve wriggled up the couch until their faces were even.

Tony gave him a quick kiss and then sighed. "God damn, I'm fucked out." His eyes slipped closed, but he was still smiling. After a second the smile faded and his eyes snapped open, searching Steve's face. "You okay?" he asked nervously.

Steve realized he had just been staring blankly at Tony while his mind churned over everything that had just happened. He tried to respond, but his voice barely squeaked out, he cleared his throat and tried again. "Yeah, I'm fine." Steve smiled again and Tony's answering grin warmed him up from top to bottom. "I'm awesome," he added, a little breathlessly.

"Tired?" Tony asked.

And Steve suddenly realized just how tired. He buried his face in Tony's chest and sighed. "Oh yeah."

"Yeah me too." It was silent again for a while as they just breathed together. Tony spoke up again. "Clean up and nap?" He sounded hesitant and Steve looked up to catch his gaze. "Or, ya know, I can go, I don't have to – I mean, it doesn't have to be together, but I just thought that we could, maybe, do that together and seriously dude, c'mon, rescue me here I've completely lost control of my mouth," Tony rambled on.

"I hope not completely," Steve drawled with a leer, "cause I have some ideas for that mouth that might take some control..."

"Oh good god." Tony shut his eyes again. "I'm an old man, give me a minute, Christ Steve."

Steve just laughed and levered himself up off the couch. Rinse and nap sounded just about perfect. He pulled Tony up to his feet after him and pressed a kiss to his forehead, blushing almost immediately at the sappiness of the gesture. Tony just smiled though and then grimaced looking down at himself.

"How am I completely disgusting and you're still all pristine?"

"Side-effect of the super-serum," Steve quipped.

"It is not, I've read all about Project Rebirth and being cum-repellent is not a side-effect. Though I suppose it's possible no one would have had a chance to test it..."

Steve laughed and pushed Tony ahead of him. He started steering Tony to the bathroom and stepped on a piece of electronic something-or-other lying on the floor. "I'm afraid your Starkphone might be beyond repair this time."

Tony just shrugged. "Totally worth it. I'll just make another one."

Steve turned on the water and shed the rest of his clothes, helping Tony out of his. He pushed the other man under then spray and then stepped in to join him. He was hit with another wave of weariness and leaned against the shower wall, absentmindedly petting Tony's side while he watched him rinse off.

"Is it really?" Steve asked quietly.

"Hmm?"

"Worth it. Is it really?"

Tony raised an eyebrow at him. "Was mind-blowing sex worth a broken phone? Uh, yeah always."

Steve rolled his eyes. "No, I meant - "

Tony tipped forward until their bodies were pressed against each other and brought a finger to Steve's lips. "I know what you meant," he said, quietly, seriously, "and yes. Goddamn, it's worth it. It's worth having to tell the rest of the team and face Clint's teasing. It's worth whatever paperwork Coulson makes us fill out. It's worth the utter destruction of watching you get hit on the front-lines over and over and never knowing if you'll make it through. It's worth all the fighting and arguing and probably breaking of phones there will be, for good reasons and bad. It's worth it Steve. I'm worth it. Let's do this. Please."

It was more words than Steve had heard in the entire previous 24 hours put together and they were beautiful and scary and perfect and bizarre and Steve found he had no words to say back, he opened his mouth but nothing would come so he just met Tony's gaze, told him everything he needed to know and pulled him into a passionate kiss.

Sometimes there were just no words.