Alright, Chapter two, I'm going to be adding to this and fixing things so, if you have any opinions just let me know. I'm open to them all as long as you're not a total dick about it, I'm not a dick.. just sometimes sarcastic and overly honest- oh and flirty, but don't be afraid to review.. I always respond. And I promise to play nice.
Thanks for reading, you guys are great. 😉
He stands on the platform of his workshop, the mark 7 assembling and encasing his body in hotrod red and flashy gold armor. He leaves his faceplate up, sending an antagonistic glare the Captains way.
"Are you sure you want to do this old man?" He doesn't give the other a chance to answer. "Because I have a feeling you're about to get your ass handed to you- although I can't say it isn't well deserved." He smirks at said blond whose approaching watches the blond circle around him, a predator stalking its pray― a wolf, before he squares up to him, they're eyes lock, staring each other down.
"Are you sure?" The other challenges. Tony being one who never backs down from… anything really, or a good opportunity, slides his mask down and the suit comes to life, its eyes glowing a menacing lightning blue.
He aims a blow at Rogers face and his armor clangs with something hard and― wait where in the fuck did that shield come from?!
Maybe it's not a stick up his ass after all…
There's a red, white, and blue blur and he's sent crashing into his workbench, crushing it and the papers that had been resting on it, under the suits weight. At least he has an excuse for pepper when she asks about the documents not being signed…
The Captain advances on him, Tony wrenches his arm from the twisted metal of the work bench and fires the repulsor in his palm to which Rogers reflects the shot off his shield as if it were a child's rubber duck, and his beam blows a hole through the wall.
He rockets upwards from the desk and aims in old glory's direction; doing a barrel roll he dodges several hits from the Captains shield and tackles him into the wall, cement cracking and crumbling around the soldiers form.
Tony no more than cuts his boosters and he's taking a roundhouse kick to the chest, hurtling through the only unbroken window, and colliding with the wall beyond his lab. He falls onto the staircase, cracking half the steps on his way down until he hits the wood floor.
He kneels, pushing off the ground to hover above it. "Sir to your-" Jarvis fails to warn him in time and the Soldiers weight is knocking Tony to the floor straddling him. He elbows Rogers in the mouth and opens his palm sending a repulsor beam into the man's unguarded chest. Steve is blown down the hall, groaning in what can only be pain, when he slams onto the floor and rolls to a stop.
Tony flies over to him and drops down by his side. "Look, I'm not the kick em' when they're down type of―" Steve surprises him by leaping up and driving his knee into Tony's stomach armor. He instinctively lurches forward and Rogers whips his shield that he most likely pulled out of his ass, into Tony's helmet. It's a devastating blow, if the sound of something cracking and the darkness that follows weren't enough to tell him that.
He rips off his helmet and throws it behind him, it's a reckless decision, but it's not like he doesn't make those on a daily basis, plus he likes being able to see, even if it's his own ass kicking he's witnessing. The shield took out his entire targeting system, meaning he has no capability of seeing the next attack with his helmet on.― the vibramium is denser than his suit and as long as he has that fucking Frisbee, Tony is going to get his ass handed to him. He pry's the shield away, he wins―
Rogers, the quick asshole he is, runs up, backflips off the wall and kicks Tony in the jaw, he can feel the crack of bone as he slams against the wall. It's enough to take him down, but not keep him there. He almost wants to laugh but grimaces instead. Pushing himself off the ground for a second time he fires up his boot-thrusters, propelling out of the way as Rogers shield smashes into the wall he had the pleasure of being acquainted with- actually that's where his head was― did Captain America just… no, it's a mistake, he aimed too high or… something. Tony discards his musings and hovers above the ground a safe distance away from the soldier. Using a magnet in his palm he draws the disk into his hand and flings it somewhere in the wrecked lab.
The blond starts after his shield and Tony moves forward blocking his way, but Steve, the persistent dick he is, is having none of it and aims for Tony's face― okay he gets it, spangles is pissed, when he deliberately has no fucking right after the shit he said, but here he is, lashing out at Tony. Those last blows could have killed him, Steve knows it and- son of a bitch. Steve is trying to kill him. He's fighting for his life, not settling a fucking childish disagreement. He's actually fighting Captain America and yet he still has no idea why.
"Can I ask what in the hell your problem is?" He's holding Steve's wrist in his hand and shoves the soldier back a few paces.
"You know damn well what my problem is," In a matter of seconds Steve is back in his face. Tony keeps his expression calm, although his patience's are wearing thin. "I thought things would change, that maybe you would be at least halfway decent to me, but you still walk around like you own the damn place, like you're invincible and everyone else is below you, well let me tell you, you're not." His teeth are going to break from how tight his jaw was clenched, the pain of it being a little off kilter isn't even bothering him. The blond shakes his head distastefully, "You know… You're not even worth it."
The Captain tries to push past him and Tony shoves him back again. "Keep your damn hands off-"
"Or what?" he snaps. "Are you gonna go all Super-soldier on me? Go ahead, Rogers, show me what you're made of, I've been waiting to see the labrat out of his cage―" knuckles crash into his left eye and he stumbles backwards. He ignores the cool trickle of blood rolling down the side of his face and glowers at the soldier.
"Stay. Away. from me, Stark." He warns, his fist tightened in a ball, his other hand clamped on his ribcage. ―Spangles must've cracked a couple ribs- or he cracked a couple of them. Good.
"Sorry, but I can't fulfill your wishes today, 'guess the well is dry, and don't try the lamp, it's a little cracked."He replies crossing his arms defiantly.
"And just why the hell not?" The captain asks, more annoyed than angry.
"Well, I mean, I'm just a tad curious as to why you were trying to kill me, but of course it's preposterous of me to wonder why Captain America just busted down my door-literally, and―"
"I didn't try to―"
"Oh, don't give me that bull―"
"Fine, I did. But you know exactly what the hell you did and I'm not―"
"Am I missing something here? Because I honestly have no clue what you're talking about! I'm not Sherlock fucking Holmes, well, not today, but that's beside the point." He watches Rogers frown and cautiously approaches the blond, a curious frown of his own forming, "What is it?"
"Were you in my room?" Steve looks at him questioningly, no trace of anger left and Tony is outright fucking Alice in wonderland lost.
"No, I've been down here since-" He pauses for a moment as Steve chews on his lip and turns his gaze to the floor like some coward afraid to look at their own mistakes ―Five minutes ago Rogers was about to go Gallagher on his head with a giant metal Frisbee, and now he's going to try and feel guilty? He's so making a mental note to burn all of Steve's clothes― after he gets out his detective hat and magnifying glass to find out what the hell is going on. "I- you know what, can you just explain, hell, use sketches if words get to be too much. Tell me why you came in here like Mr. Kool-Aid from hell, because I think that's kind of important at the moment, don't you?" He study's Steve as the blond slowly looks up, his brows furrowing in a confused manner as his eyes search Tony's face curiously, dried blood and sweat clings to his redden skin and soaks his hair.
He can tell the adrenaline is wearing off by the little aches and large pains in his face, his head is pounding like a hangover he didn't drink to receive and if Captain Morals disfigured any part of his face then he's replacing the shield up his ass with a nuke.
Tony flicked his eyes over Rogers face, ignoring the instinct and Britney song that told him to hit the guy one more time; besides the quickly healing scrapes and bruises, the man's profile is ridiculously attractive, his eyes are the classic take your breath away crystal blue, and that's cliché as hell. It's not just Tony who finds him… appealing, who wouldn't want to get a piece of captain America? He's a damn pleasure to look at, but Tony would undeniably kill him first if they were stranded on an island, with a hundred percent chance of getting rescued.
"Tony?" A hand waves in front of his face and he's drawn from his musings to look at Steve who's still frowning.
He rolls his eyes smacks the hand from his vision to point a finger at the Captain, "We aren't on a first name basis, Rogers, and you barging in here and trying to rid this world of my good looks and clever sarcasm doesn't put you at the top of my very short friends list," He said with resentment towards the other. Tony turns and walks back onto the platform before Rogers can respond and starts on disassembling the suit.
"Here," A cold bag of ice wrapped in a blue towel is gently placed in his hand after the last of the suit is pulled off and he looks up at the apologetic Captain who lightly has his hand on Tony's side. "Tony― Mr. Stark, I'm sorry I―".
"Save it, actually no, send me a card, I've always wondered if there was a 'Sorry I tried to kill you' hallmark," He said, not so gently shoving Steve off of him so he can walk to his desk and lean on it, leaving the Captain to stand there awkwardly. If you don't like someone, don't touch them, or at least have the decency to keep a distance if they don't like you. He knows the dislike is mutual, but apparently Steve still needs to catch up with that fact.
He winces when the ice touches his bruised skin and has to stop himself from making any embarrassing sounds as he felt his jaw, not broken, but it does need to be reset. This day just gets more exciting by the second, whats next? A bouncy castle in hell?
"Someone was in my room, I was going in there… to, grab something, and whoever it was tore my books up, I thought it was you because…" Steve doesn't finish the sentence, they both know what he wasn't elaborating on. He walls over by Tony's desk and by the ten foot distance he's keeping, Tony guesses that he finally got the memo without Tony having to pull out a Ludacris CD or state it any louder to 'stay back, because you're a pain in my ass by medical definition'.
"You tried to murder me over books? Oh, I don't even care if any of them are first addition. Let me get this straight, you actually, came in here, with intent to kill, over a copy of Broke Back Mountain and huckleberry-fin―"
"So you did do it?" Tony glares over at him and chucks his icepack at the blond who ducks and catches it seemingly without a thought. Bastard.
"Yes, and I'm also the hambugler, ripping apart the books of my enemies is just a way to pass the time after people piss me off," He takes a step back as Rogers walks towards him with a strangely focused air and he almost blurts out a string of vulgar curses when his back hits a desk. "You tried to kill me and now you're going to molest me? Wow, didn't take you for the type, Spangle's." Maybe he should get the suit, he never got warm fuzzy feelings around the guy, but after almost getting pummeled to death, yeah, not taking any chances.
"I- What? No, just, stay- stay still," Steve's hands fall to his side as he gives him a c'mon-are-you-serious, look and Tony cocked an eyebrow up at him, "If you won't accept an apology I figured I could fix your jaw… in the military I helped out a lot of injured soldiers,"
"Didn't I crack you're ribs? You should get that looked at first and kind of not touch me― hey! What did I say about―"
"Mr. Stark, please, shut the hell up," He glared childishly at the wall, Steve's hands gently cup his jaw and he tries not to wince at the touch as he's forced to look up at nurse America. Tony has a couple of options, one where he does it himself and possibly breaks his jaw, which will hurt like hell and result in his face, his gorgeous face may he add, getting mangled. Scratch that option.
"Whatever, just hurry up, I have better things, less― OW! Son of a bitch!" pain is moving through his jaw in waves, his hand twists in Steve's shirt as he clenches his eyes closed and tries to keep from falling over. Just as the thought crossed his mind two strong hands were on his hips and he huffed out a soft chuckle, "You could have counted to three".
"I did, are you okay at least?" He opens his eyes as the pain falls into a low thrum and rolls his eyes at the blond.
"I meant out loud, and besides a concussion I think I'll live to see another day filled with ninety-nine problems, bitch included". He pats Steve on the shoulder and with some force, pushes the man's hands off his hips and walks over to his main desk, which thankfully was not damaged in the little fight they had. Tony taps at a few icons on the screen to bring up security footage and Sherlock Holmes or not, he's getting to the bottom of this bullshit.
"You need to see a doctor, I think I hurt you beyond what a few days of rest and a couple bandages will fix." He hears coming from his left and turns to Rogers who is irritatingly close to him.
"There are a number of things I could recommend for you, like the flag pole being removed from up your ass and maybe a Snikers because you sort of turn into homicidal bookworm when you get hungry".
"Is everything a joke to you? Because I don't think anything about this is funny," He said in his best 'Im serious and irritated by your bullshit tone' and Tony sighed, this was going to be one hell of a long night.
"Funny things are and no, someone breaching my security system, which takes, like, me level intelligence, I'm kicking their ass,"
"It was probably Clint―"
"On a mission with Natasha, Thors in Asgaurd, Bruce is somewhere in the Congo, and Fury doesn't have a personal vendetta against you that I know of, so either you have an angry ex you've been hiding from us or someone had a reason to shred your favorite bedtime stories," He turned to the screen and pulled up footage from Steve's floor, the blonds side almost touching his own as they fell into an oddly comfortable silence.
Seeing as a little bit ago he was almost being killed by the world's angriest bookworm, he could say it was a little, or a great amount of strange to be working almost calmly with the other. He doesn't follow orders well, he isn't exactly a fan of being pushed around like a pawn on a chessboard, and Steve delivers orders like the pizza guy in a cliché porno, you never get any pizza or satisfaction. They don't play well with each other unless the world is in peril and at times that didn't even make them hold hands and say nice things about one another.
The footage finally got to the timeframe of when the hacking must've been, whoever did it was quite enough to go undetected by Jarvis, which, that on its own gave him an eerie feeling. Something in the back of the lab crashes and Steve spins around to the commotion at the same time he does.
"Get your Shield―"
"Got it, put on the suit," Tony nods and dashes back to the platform to assemble a new prototype, maybe it's not the best time to try out a new toy, but hopefully Steve still didn't intend on him taking a dirt nap.
He looked through the eyes of his mark lllX, sharing an affirming glance with Rogers before looking towards the thing that's now insisting on playing hide and seek. Who, or whatever it was, picked the wrong day to play games.
