I'd hoped the site had broadened their formatting options, but sadly not... So underlines still stand for strike-throughs, although you can read the fic as it's meant to be read over on AO3 with added art for the first chapter.
I reblogged a thing, and then pagen-godess asked for a continuation of this story, and I finally decided on a way it would work. So this is the result. The second part of this continuation resulted from kurowrites prodding my muse even more.
And I'd almost forgotten just how emotionally intense this story is...
The tense is different because I felt like trying something different and it also spoke to me.
The team stares at him all the time. Or not really the team, because Steve and Bruce have known about it from the beginning, but Clint and Natasha tread cautiously around him. He'd like to think Natasha feels a little guilty about not realizing something else was up but he's not going to hold his breath but it wasn't like she could've realized that hey, he sees wings and they're representations of a person's soul.
And Tony only knew that now because Thor had explained to him just what this curse gift means, and it's so much because he's a freaking legend in Asgard for this thing he's never asked for and could do without.
But he knows that without this, he probably wouldn't have fallen in love with hooked up with Steve. Steve with his gorgeous white wings that Tony has never before seen in his life; Steve with those wings that just wrap around Tony and make him feel safe and adored and cherished and loved. And every time Tony touches Steve's wings or brushes his own such a dark, dark blue that looks black at first glance against Steve's, he gets an euphoric rush of the kind that he hasn't ever experienced before.
The tips of their wings are mirror images of the other, and it's everything Tony's seen in couples that he's seen on the streets and ever wished for and never knew he could have (and finally has now).
But Clint and Natasha stare, and it's only at him, never at Steve or Bruce who also have this ability. It might be because he's said that he can fly with his wings, but it's probably because they have trouble putting together their image of Tony Stark with the one that they see before them. An image that doesn't match up with the public's because Tony has done his damn best to make himself look normal, even though he's still eccentric by society's standards.
It probably wouldn't have come to anything, but then Thor comes back from Asgard, wings of lightning announcing his arrival with a crackle that Tony hears but no one else seems to save for Steve and Bruce. He beams broadly at Tony, congratulating him on his joining with Steve, and then proceeds to greet the rest of the team with slightly less exuberance but no less fondness.
He's here to stay, at least for the near future, as part of Asgard's apology for ever letting Loki out. And, privately, Thor tells Tony one night that he needs to learn more before he ever becomes king of Asgard, because what happened with Loki should not happen again.
Thor joining their daily routine doesn't change much, but once Natasha tells Clint that he is the expert on the strange sight Tony, Steve, and Bruce have, he isn't left alone. Clint continually asks him about the wings, what they're for, why not everyone can see them, and why Tony's the only one who can use them to fly.
Thor doesn't have all the answers, but he does explain that it was thought to be a gift to humans, a sight that gradually disappeared over the years as humans became undeserving to have it. They're a part of the soul, an outward representation of it that was used to help people find their other halves. Anyone who can see the wings can use them for flight; it's only that Tony was curious enough to figure it out.
Tony hovered in the background during these chats, curious enough to want to learn more, but not enough to subject himself to those stares. When satisfied, he disappears, and Steve follow him.
And while Tony doesn't often regret his life choices (because he's prideful and can admit that), he does regret this one, because he has no idea what Clint asked Thor for.
And he doesn't find out until a week later.
It's innocuous at first. Tony enters the kitchen one morning, wings more relaxed than they usually are when he's around his team. He'd woken up surrounded by Steve, an oddity since the other usually worked out earlier in the morning, and the warmth continued to resonate through his wings.
He doesn't notice it at first, probably because he hasn't gotten his fix of caffeine. But when he eventually comes up for air, he notices Clint staring at him with wide eyes, his bowl of cereal neglected.
Tony stares back, not about to be outdone by a man who likes to nest in high places, which has included the letter "A" on the STARK emblazoned on the tower. (Natasha isn't concerned, so Tony has followed suit. Only Steve seems rather perturbed and concerned whenever this happens.)
"Christ," Clint says eventually, eyes sweeping up over Tony's form and back where his wings are nestled, "they're huge."
Tony stiffens, wings bristling slightly. "What?"
Clint's wings droop in apology, and he actually looks back at them in consternation. "Mine aren't as big," he mutters a moment later.
"What?" Tony repeats, probably sounding like a broken record.
"I should go," Clint says instead, taking his cereal and leaving.
Tony stares at the seat Clint has just vacated, wondering whether he'd really just seen what he had. It didn't make any sense.
After another moment of staring into his half-finished coffee, Tony decides it was a figment of his imagination and downs the rest of it.
About an hour later, most of which is spent picking apart the sorry excuse for an omelet he cooked (or tried to), Tony enters the living room to find Clint and Natasha staring at each other and at the others in the room. Both of them turn to look right at his wings, and Tony can't help but move them back to hide protectively.
"They're the largest," Natasha says as if reading off a page.
"And don't move much," Clint adds.
"That's enough," Steve warns, his tone mild but carrying a firm tone. He shifts his wings back in invitation for Tony to come and sit by him. After a moment's hesitation, Tony does so, unconsciously leaning into Steve's side as one wing wraps around him lovingly protectively.
"What's going on?" Tony asks quietly.
Steve turns his head to press a kiss into Tony's hairline. "It's only for a day," he murmurs.
"Clinton asked for it," Thor says, leaning back against the wall with his arms folded across his chest. "It is a minor spell, and only a temporary one."
"They can see?" Tony feels fear dread pool in the pit of his stomach.
"It's pretty damn cool," Clint says, reaching almost absentmindedly to stroke a hand through his feathers, although the look on his face is one of fascination. "There are so many different colors."
"We're actually pretty normal," Tony manages, feeling Steve's wing curl around him in comfort. "I've seen some with purple and pink. And Hulk's are green."
This makes Clint glance over to where Bruce has been sitting quietly, wringing his hands nervously.
"But you don't have any," Clint points out.
"Hulk's him without any barriers," Tony says before Bruce can say something self-deprecating. "So it's hidden under another layer."
"That's a nice thought," Bruce says, smiling softly.
"It's true," Tony says firmly, and he sees Steve smile.
"You're the darkest," Natasha observes, tilting her head curiously.
"I always joked about you having a black soul," Clint says, sounding amused, "but to see it's true?"
"It's blue," Steve says before Tony can. "Navy blue."
Tony doesn't shift, but he can see the way Clint narrows his eyes as if to try and make out the blue that Steve has said is there. Even Tony has trouble making it out, and it's only in the right light and the right angle that he sees the blue sheen to his feathers.
"Okay," Clint says, nodding. His wings brush against Natasha's, and he closes his eyes briefly, a small shudder running through him. "It's blue."
Tony doesn't say anything else, simply letting Steve's warmth and love soak through him. He presses into Steve's side, resisting the urge to rest his head against Steve's shoulder, although Steve has no such compunctions and presses another kiss into Tony's hair.
It's only for a day, Tony tells himself, and then it's back to normal. The worst thing he'll have to deal with is Clint deciding to hurl himself off the tower and trying to fly, even though his wings aren't big enough to bear his weight.
Tony called it. He totally called it. And that's what he'll tell the others in the future whenever they get on his case for questionable life choices.
Clint is right now sitting on the edge of landing pad Tony uses for the Iron Man suit. He's flexing his wings in that experimental way that signals he's trying to feel out how they work. He's also eyeing the drop like he's about to jump off and fly.
He can't. That's the thing. His wings aren't big enough - aren't anywhere near strong enough. And Tony's told him that. Repeatedly.
"It's physics," Tony says again, standing about five feet behind Clint and stepping back whenever a wing brushes by too closely. "You don't have enough strength."
"What's natural about wings no one can see?" Clint retorts, craning his head back to look at how his wings moved.
"You can't fly with them," Tony says, parroting what he said back when Clint first suggested this crazy plan.
"I have freaking wings," Clint says, turning away from Tony to look back down. "Don't tell me I can't fly with them."
Tony sighs, suppressing the urge to puff up his wings in annoyance. "You can't."
"Please don't, Clint," Steve adds from beside Tony. He has this pinched look on his face that suggests he's very close to dragging Clint back from the ledge and into the tower and locking him up until this day is over.
And Tony is going to kill Thor the next feasible option he has (probably never).
"Come on, Steve," Clint says. "You can't tell me you've never wanted to try those wings out."
"Of course I have," Steve says patiently. "But I don't, because I know I'll just end up killing myself."
There's an uncomfortable twinge in Tony's chest at the thought, and his right wing spreads to wrap around Steve before he can stop it. Steve has always been the exception to his ability to control his wings unconsciously, and Tony can't bring himself to regret it.
Clint scoffs dismissively. "Big guy like you? Those wings'll be fine."
"No, they won't," Tony argues, brow furrowing. "That much muscle mass? He'll drop like a stone. And so will you."
"This is overdone," Clint says, a shit-eating grin on his face, "but YOLO."
And then he jumps.
Tony bites out a swear and runs forward, jumping off himself without a second's thought and Steve's alarmed cry ringing in his ears.
The rush of air screaming by his ears is exhilarating, and Tony presses his wings close to make himself as streamlined as possible, catching up with Clint, whose wings are flapping futilely at the air, buffering his fall only some but making it more difficult for Tony to catch him.
He performs some split-second calculations, weighs the pros and cons of this next decision, and wings it. He dives down below Clint, braking his fall and swooping up, catching Clint with a painful grunt because Clint isn't light by any stretch. Then his hands brush over the base of Clint's wings, and Tony is gagging, wings faltering in the air as the nausea breaks his concentration wrong, wrong, wrong and he takes a deep breath steadies their flight with an effortful thrust of his wings, beating down powerfully.
"Idiot," he grunts, arms under Clint's and his head next to the other's. He swallows down bile as Clint's frantically flapping wings brush against his hair and through his hands stop, go away, wrong and manages to choke out, "Stop moving."
Tony could fly up - he could - but Clint's too frantic in his arms, and the brush of his wings against Tony's skinand his wings and Tony can't breathe because there's ice cold fear and self-hatred and the thought of why, why, why, and he's so grateful when the Iron Man suit zooms into sight, piloted by JARVIS.
The suit pulls the two of them back up to safe ground because Clint won't let go of Tony until there's solid ground beneath their feet. And then Natasha's pulling Clint aside, scolding him in rapid-fire Russian, and Steve's suddenly there, pulling Tony into his arms in a desperately tight embrace.
"Don't do that again," Steve breathes, voice choked. He plants a kiss on Tony's temple, the corner of his eye, and then he's prying open Tony's lips with his tongue and breathing him in. Tony doesn't object, shivering too badly in Steve's arms to do much else other than let himself be kissed.
Clint's emotions are still echoing through him, and his insides throb in a way that they haven't done for years since Afghanistan. He hitches out a breathless sob into Steve's mouth and clutches back, digging his hands into Steve's wings and letting the warmth spread through him, soothing the raw places that had been gouged open.
He breaks apart a moment later, pressing his forehead into Steve's shoulder and just breathing, his hands still wrapped in Steve's wings. He feels Steve's shoulders shift, and then warmth surrounds him on all sides and he can finally breathe and he relaxes into Steve's hold, turning his face into Steve's neck and just inhaling the other's heady scent.
"Don't do that again," Steve repeats more quietly this time, pressing a kiss into Tony's dark hair.
"I do it all the time," Tony mumbles, hands flexing through Steve's feathers. "It's just…Clint…" He can't put it into words, the visceral feeling of having someone else's soul gouge through his own and feeling their emotions bounce off his own and leave nothing behind but echoing remnants of pain. It's something he can't ever get used to, and he's still so surprised whenever Steve's wings wrap around him or brush against his own and he doesn't feel violated but rather accepted and loved and cherished.
After another long moment of simply breathing in Steve's scent and taking in his warmth, Tony pulls himself together enough to draw away, and Steve lets him do so, although his arms remain looped around Tony's waist.
Tony is rather surprised to find Thor standing there, an embarrassed and shameful look on his features.
"I am sorry," Thor says before Tony can ask. "I thought only to show them what it was like. I did not think he would do such a thing."
"It's not your fault," Tony says, and it isn't really a lie. "Just…run it by me first?"
"And me," Steve adds, his tone accepting no arguments.
"I will do so," Thor promises. He bows his head slightly to them and then goes inside. Tony can see Bruce waiting by the windows, expression anxious.
But all he really wants is to take Steve and curl up in their giant bed, intertwining limbs and wings until he has no way of knowing where he ends and Steve begins until they're one person and Tony can forget.
"Can we?" Tony hates himself for sounding so pathetic weak and plaintive, but he's still feeling shaky and can't bring himself to sound stronger differently.
Steve doesn't need further elaboration. "Yes, yes, we can." He doesn't pick Tony up, but it seems to be a close call, and he doesn't let go of Tony's hand.
Hours later, underneath thick, downy blankets and with Steve's warmth on all sides and his heartbeat under his head, Tony finally feels the last vestiges of Clint's touch vanish.
And he breathes.
Thoughts? I hope you liked this.
Clint eventually apologizes, but he looks sulky about doing so because he could totally have figured out that whole flying thing by himself if he'd had more time, but Thor refuses to cast the spell again and Natasha just smacks him up the head and Steve stares him down until he doesn't bring the topic up again.