Steve knew something strange was going on with Tony. The billionaire, when not cooped up in the lab, spent his time finding willing females, supermodels and Avengers employees, and welcoming them back to his personal residence to fornicate with. Pepper refused to comment. And all the while he and Tony never had a conversation that wasn't directly linked to the team or a mission.
Tony couldn't stand it. No matter how many women he brought back to his bed, kitchen counter, jacuzzi, foosball table - he couldn't stop thinking about Steve taking their place. He gave up when, during an encounter with a woman with short blonde hair, he went harder when imagining the super soldier receiving instead.
The same table where Steve lay was too cold and hard for Tony. He hadn't even cared to set up the experiment conventionally and monitor his heart rate and breathing. Instead, he lay down on one of his lab's sofas, away from the computer screens and machines. The only thing he had with him was the sonic device and a stopwatch. He knew how incredibly stupid it was, testing it out on himself, but when had he ever been safe with his new inventions? And he'd redesigned the paralysis, so it should be safe enough. Maybe a few pulled muscles and a lung collapse, but he would survive. Shifting himself on the stained white couch and relaxing as much as his mind would let him, he started the stopwatch, placed it on his stomach, then stretched out one arm and looked down the gun's barrel.
Stepping out of the elevator and into the corridor, the Captain ran a few lines through his head. Whatever the problem was with Tony, he would find out. Should he become aggressive and order an answer out of him, or appeal to his emotions and show sympathy and reassurance? He would find out when he got to the lab itself. Reaching the secure metal door at the bottom of the stairwell, Steve opened the unlocked door. Tony was lying on one of the sofas at his end of the lab, eyes shut, appearing to be so lost in thought that he didn't even notice the Captain entering. But as Rogers walked closer, his stomach dropped. The paralysis device was on the floor, under the deathly still man's arm which hung loosely over the side.
"It's fine, Captain," Tony said in a quiet voice as Steve bolted to the sofa, dropping to his knees. Checking his neck for a pulse, he found one.
"Now tell me, why would you check for my pulse when clearly I am alive?" Stark's expression flashed to cockiness and Steve almost slapped him.
"What the heck are you doing? You nearly gave me a heart attack!"
"I know what I'm doing, I fixed it. It's already been four minutes. It'll work this time, I promise. Also, did you manage to poop the other day after you did this? I felt this strange tingling sensation in my anus and I really hope-"
"Damnit Tony, what if something goes wrong? What can you expect me to do?"
"You can do anything you want, Captain. I can't stop you. But there are some bruises on my thigh, so be gentle. Otherwise knock yourself out."
Steve paced beside the sofa, watching Tony nervously. One part of him wanted to bolt out of the lab and run for help, but another part was telling him to stay in case the other man needed him. And the second one was winning. In his head he was counting down the seconds. It took nearly 12 minutes for himself to have the breathing complications, and Tony was nearing the 8 minute mark.
A few more minutes and maybe he'd relax. But not until he was sure Tony hadn't thrown himself into a deadly situation. In his panicked state he was still completely unaware of what the billionaire on the couch was thinking: it was a mix of fear, anxiety, desperation, want, and anticipation. Of course he didn't want to die in his lab without a strong cause. Although, he wouldn't mind having a small respiratory failure. It would be a legitimate excuse to feel Steve's lips on his own.
The Captain glanced down to the flashing numbers on the stop watch resting on Tony's stomach. Eleven minutes had past. Kneeling next to, Steve's eyes were wide with dread. Any second and his friend could be dying, struggling for breath and calling out for help and Steve wouldn't know what to do. He'd never done what Tony did before with his mouth; he didn't want to mess it up and worsen the situation.
"Why did you do this to yourself?" he finally asked.
"I almost killed you. And I can't test it on mice, it wouldn't have the same effect. You said you would be completely behind me."
"Not for you to use it on yourself. You don't need to risk your life for an invention, Tony. Why can't you just drop it?"
"Because it's something Iron Man would want to finish."
As the timer ticked over the thirteen minute mark, Tony twitched his hand. The Captain jumped up, throwing the timer away and put his arm under Tony's shoulders. Slowly and with Steve's help, he sat up, legs completely asleep.
"Cap," Tony addressed the man sitting next to him on the sofa. "The tingling sensation is gone."
Steve threw his head back onto the sofa, breathing deeply. With his hands pressed behind his head he laughed. A real, I-can't-believe-we-got-out-of-this kind of laugh. Then he turned and faced the engineer, shaking his head with a smile.
"Don't you ever do that again, Mr Stark."
"It's a shame, though. I was kind of looking forward to you giving me mouth-to-mouth."
Tony was completely serious, but Steve just rolled his eyes again and sighed. He was tempted to grab the Captain's waist and pull him into a well-awaited make-out session, but somehow he thought that wouldn't end well. Instead of being incredibly hands-on about making close contact, he thought of a genius and stealthy plan. His legs were still kind of tingly after being paralyzed. If his acting skills were at least mediocre, he could easily stand and pretend to have trouble walking and Steve, the good citizen that he is, would no doubt pull him in for support.
The plan worked flawlessly and the Captain immediately jumped up, throwing an arm around Tony's middle and holding his 'limp' body close. Tony draped his arm over his shoulder, digging his fingers in a little harder than necessary, getting a feel for the muscle under his shirt. The contact however only lasted a few moments before he was sitting on his workbench. Before he was able to sarcastically thank him, Steve was pulling him back into an embrace. Not a physically supporting kind of hold, but a genuine hug.
"Don't ever do something so reckless again," Steve muttered over Tony's back. Without skipping a beat, the billionaire held tighter, enjoying every second of the mutual embrace. The Captain's arms were strong and firm around his chest and, god, it was bliss. He could already see himself pushing Steve up against the lab wall, his arms tight around his shoulders and his chest flushed against his own.
Back in reality, Tony realized with displeasure that Steve was already pulling away, leaving a single hand on his shoulder in his place. And he was happy. Beaming from ear to ear.
"What are you so happy about, Captain? Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Tony asked suggestively.
"I just-" Steve looked over at the paralysis device still cluttered on the ground, "it works. You actually got it right."
"Of course I got it right, I am a genius and master engineer," he arrogantly said back.
"I'm not saying you aren't. The company's gonna love it. And I'm sure Iron Man is proud of you, Tony Stark, and I am too."
Tony did feel a sense of accomplishment. It wasn't even that hard, remaking the sonic device to be virtually harmless. And it could be used as a humane alternative to other painful self-defense equipment out there. What really made it worth it, though, was seeing Steve understand the potential for the new creation. It wasn't just some weapon to destroy their enemies; the Captain wouldn't be so enthusiastic about that. Tony was about to hop down and write up the experiment results. What he wasn't ready for was when Steve ducked his head down, pressing his lips lightly against Tony's. After a few seconds of lingering, Tony kissed back, only to be pressing against the air as Steve abruptly pulled back and walked to the door. Stark was left on his bench, unsure whether to follow or sit in jubilation.
