Fuck fuck shit, shit fuck shit fuck fuck fuck. Tony shook his hand inside his boxing glove. Is it broken? No, not broken. Definitely bruised, though. Note to self: Cap's head can be used as a weapon.
"Stark, are you alright?" Tony looked up at the super-solider, still shaking the pain out of his right hand.
"Just dandy." Tony lunged again, pushing his protected knuckles against Steve's cheekbones with all his might. A sharp pain shot through his hand and up to his shoulder on contact. He punched again, using his left hand this time. Something cracked. Tony hit again and again with all his might. Steve's head would move, but there was obviously no sign of any damage. This wasn't working.
"Ok, stop. Stark, stop it; you're going to hurt yourself. I made my point." Tony didn't stop, but instead tried Steve's stomach. He hit muscle was thrown back a few steps. Something popped. "Tony, stop!" The millionaire lunged again, but instead of standing still Steve moved to the side and scoped Tony up. He held high him above his head. That far up all Tony was able to reach was Steve's hair, and even though Tony acted like he was 12 most of the time Steve figured that he wouldn't stoop so low he'd start pulling out hair.
"Cap, put me down!" He flailed, only causing Steve to dig his hands deeper into the tank-top Tony had on.
"Not if you're going to punch me again!"
Tony went limp, letting his legs and arms dangle to the side. His hands brushed against Steve's head, and he purposely swung his arm a little so the end of his glove would constantly hit the edge of Steve's nose. If he couldn't win against him the least he thought he could do was piss him off a little. "Fine, I promise I won't hit you. Now let me down before you break my back."
"I don't believe you."
"Cap, my neck is killing me. Just let me down. Or at least move your hand so I can lay my head on it." His voice was teasing, thinking that the man out of time wouldn't know what to do and let him down. A moment passed and Steve lowered him, but stopped at his chest and held him like someone would a child. Tony groaned unhappily. "You have got to be shitting me."
"Your head's supported, isn't it?"
Steve turned around fast to look where Clint was sitting anxiously, whose hands were positioned near his thighs and had one leg on the chair incasehe needed to push himself to get into the ring. There was a pause.
"I really hope someone recorded that."
"You have no right to talk, Clint," Tony said and pointed the hand that Steve wasn't crushing at him. "You didn't even help."
"Help what? Help you try to break Captain America? That's a losing battle, Tony. Plus, what was I suppose to be doing? Cap obviously had everything under control. I think he can handle you without your armor."
Tony reddened with a mix of embarrassment and agitation. "If you were paying attention I was trying to win the match; I was not trying to break him or whatever other crap you're trying to feed me. I-" He wiggled. "Steve, let me down." Rogers obeyed, figuring if he was busy arguing he wouldn't hurt himself trying to prove an un-provable point. He set him down gently, as if he was putting down an injured animal.
As soon as his feet hit the floor Tony automatically hid his hand behind his back, took off his gloves, and began to stretch his bruised fingers outwards in an effort to stop the joints from locking. "You know what, Hawkeye? Why don't you get in here and go a few rounds with the oh-so-great Captain America." His voice was drowning in sarcasm as he said 'great', which made Steve cringe a little and wonder where the hidden hatred was coming from. Something had obviously hit a nerve, Steve realized, because Tony's face was turning a shade of red he had never seen before.
"Tony, you need to relax." Steve stepped into the large space between them and put his hand in front of Tony to stop him from moving, the tips of his fingers lightly grazing the arc reactor. Steve stared at him, giving the perfect 'I will tolerate no nonsense in this house, young man' look. "And Clint, stop teasing him. You are both grown men and you need to behave as such. We're here to help people, not hurt each other."
Tony stretched his back and sighed. "Yes, mom."
There was silence, and since nothing else would be happening that involved someone (mainly Tony) fracturing a bone, Clint plugged in his iPod and went to the corner of the room to lift weights.
"Tony, are you alright?" Steve put his hand on Tony's shoulder. They had stepped out of the ring, and Tony had swallowed the entire contents of his water bottle in one long gulp.
"Of course I am. I've handled a lot worse than that. Your check bones aren't exactly the equivalent of a nuclear weapon."
"Stark, I don't mean physically. I'm well aware you've taken a lot worst. I just… I know that you're not the most…"
"You're worried it hurt my ego."
"Well, um, yes, to be frank. I was good friends with your father and I know that he wasn't the humblest person you could meet, and things like this would sometimes bother him. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, after all."
Tony crushed his bottle, squishing it until the crinkled plastic left marks in his hand. He gulped and held his breath while talking, as if there was a little monster crawling up his throat that he was desperately trying to keep down. "I am nothing like my father. Nothing. I don't care how well you knew him, Rogers, you didn't have to have him for a dad. He was never there for me. I was always the burden, all the way up until both of my parents died." He threw the bottle on the floor and ran his hands through his hair. "But it's not like I'd expect you to understand, Mr. Perfect." He said this a lot softer, but with a strong feeling of bitterness. Steve was taken back. All of Tony's anger wasn't towards him at all. That wasn't even close to the truth. It was towards his father.
"You don't think I understand, huh?" Steve bit his tongue for a second, wondering if he should continue. Against what he thought was probably his better judgment, he did. "Both of my parents were killed in World War Two, Tony. I wasn't careful enough on a mission and my best friend died. He died because of me, and I couldn't do anything about it. I left the girl I loved waiting for 70 years until she died too. I led people to their deaths, Tony, do you seriously think I don't have my own fair share of dysfunction? The only difference between you and I is that I don't let it control my life." He chocked a few times while talking, holding back the same strong front he had been since he had gotten a letter from the army sending its condolences and announcing the deaths of Mr. and Mrs. Rogers.
Tony wasn't looking at him. The only noise in the room was from the light clinks of metal coming from Clint as the weight got closer and farther to his chest. Both Tony and Steve knew he recognized what was going on. Even over ridiculous the volume he set his music player at, Clint was the most observant one of them all. Silently Tony thanked him for not forcing himself into someone else's problems like Steve was doing. "Tony, I'm sorry. I went too far."
Tony picked his deformed bottle off the floor and started to walk away. "I don't need this bullshit."
"God, Tony, wait!"
"Sir, if I may intrude for just a minute." Tony stopped and Steve jumped at the sound of Jarvis' voice, still not used to all of the new technology there was available in the 21st century. "There seems to be a bit of an issue in the city. There are creatures of an unknown species attacking tourists and buildings on West 47th street. There are no casualties yet, but there are seven injured."
Steve and Tony looked at each other, and in a single moment all of the personal problems seemed to temporarily fade away into non-existence. Because now, people's lives were at stake. People who they had never met before, but who were still living, breathing beings that needed their help.
"Can you fight?"
"Of course I can. It's just a bruise."
"Good. Put on the suit. Clint, let's go!" Hawkeye was already running out the door. Steve grabbed a communication device from his duffle bag and slid the cool, black metal over his ear. It made a small beep, informing the user that it was functional and had connected to the un-traceable Avengers communication network. "There's something attacking near Time Square, everyone. Five minutes and we all have to be there, no exceptions. Ten minutes for you, Natasha, fly fast and you should be here in eight. You all drill. Avengers, assemble!"