"Trouble in Paradise"
Chapter 6
How Steve ended up standing, he wasn't even sure. He didn't run. He didn't stop to pick up his glass or apologize to the waiter who came to mop the floor. He just stood suddenly and froze.
"Y-your mother is Peggy Carter?" Steve wasn't sure how hard he was shaking or how long he would be able to stand if he didn't stop.
"You knew her?" Coulson looked pleasantly interested, if a little confused.
"I–I…" Was Peggy even alive? What had she told her son… Steve could hardly breathe, "I loved her…"
"You WHAT?" It was Coulson's turn to stand. He took a step away from Steve, a look of shock and possible horror crossed his face. "You–you–I–"
"Oh God, no, we never–no, we didn't–uh–um…fondue. No…I kissed her once, but, no…"
That seemed to calm Coulson down a bit, though the agent still didn't sit down.
"I did love her, though." Steve whispered, seventy years of missed memories coming back to haunt him. He remembered the missed dancing date he had with Peggy, and how he wished, ever since he woke up, that he had been man enough to ask her out earlier, wished he could have married her one day. Looking up at Phil Coulson, Steve tried to imagine what having kids with her would have been like. Would they have been like Coulson? Or, would they have rebelled against their S.H.I.E.L.D. ancestry like Tony had for so long?
Steve had been so lost in thought, that he didn't see Coulson's face distorting in confusion and then repressed fury, until Coulson nearly snarled, "You were the guy…"
"I'm sorry?" Terror shot through Steve, as he saw eternally calm Agent Coulson really angry for the first time.
"You were the one she talked about. The one they fought about!"
"Fought–"
"My parents! He would yell always that she still loved him. They never said his name. Mum would talk about how brave and perfect he was, and then dad would scream asking why they got married when she was still in love with HIM!"
Steve could only imagine Coulson's father spitting out "he" and "him" like the words were poison…like Coulson was now. "Look, I never meant–"
"My dad may as well have drank himself to death when I was six because of you."
"I–"
"He could have done things, but he couldn't get past the fact that she always loved someone else, always loved you!" Coulson was practically vibrating in rage. "You destroyed him, and he would have been great!" He screamed, before turning away and storming back to the hotel.
"I'm sure he was great…" Steve mumbled, before thinking to himself, You were his son. "Damn."
The drink on the beach had only been the first of very very many that day. By 10:42 p.m. Tony was very drunk at the hotel bar, and by 11:51 p.m., the bartender was looking at Bruce asking, "Can you get him out of here? It looks like he's trying to pick a fight with that table over there." The bartender, whose name tag read "Ben," looked about twenty-five and had a head of very curly reddish hair. He jerked his head, indicating where Tony was sauntering up to a table of six or seven men built like Thor.
Bruce drained his rum and coke and nodded, "Yeah, I'll get him."
Ben smiled, "Thanks. If you're back here when I'm on duty, your next drink's on me."
Bruce nodded. "No problem." He set the glass on the bar and drifted to the corner where Tony's table of choice was. "Come on, Tony, let's go." He grabbed Tony's arm and tried to pull him away.
"Nah, come on, Bruce, I'm just gonna show these guys who's boss."
One of the men at the table cracked his knuckles, but looked sober enough not to want to start a fight.
"No, Tony, we're getting you to bed." He finally pulled Tony around, putting them face to face.
Tony was now smirking. "Oh really, now?"
"Tony," Bruce warned, "Don't start anything."
Seeming to forget his possible flirtation with Bruce, Tony gestured back at the men. "Aw, come on! They can't hurt me, I can have the suit here in three minutes!"
"Tony, you're drunk, and in three minutes, these guys could break your neck."
"But, you'll protect me." Much to Bruce's amazement, Tony managed to look coy, almost innocent, as he stumbled forward a tiny bit, successfully pressing his chest against Bruce's. "Hulk likes me."
Bruce's jaw twitched, and he hoped no one was listening to, or at least crediting their drunken conversation. He was getting better, but he still didn't really like his name tied to the Hulk, "Whether or not, the Other Guy likes you, I'm getting close to the point of being ticked off and letting them beat you up."
Tony frowned.
"Jesus, Tony, let's just get you upstairs."
Tony leaned in very close, and Bruce tensed for a very brief moment, as Tony nearly brushed his lips against Bruce's before rerouting to Bruce's ear to whisper, "Okay, we can go."
Bruce rolled his eyes and pulled Tony away.
As they walked to their room, Tony slipped his hand into Bruce's. "You're mad at me, aren't you?" Tony mumbled, almost like a sorry child.
"I told you; I'm always mad. You even said you liked me mad." Bruce opened their door.
"But not at me. I don't like you mad at me." Tony said, he stumbled in, almost knocking Bruce over.
When Bruce turned, he saw Tony looking very much like a kicked puppy. He almost felt bad for him, so he relented, "I'm not mad, not really. Concerned, yes, annoyed maybe, not mad."
The kicked puppy look didn't leave Tony's face. "I've disappointed you." Tony sat heavily on the edge of his bed.
"Jesus, Tony, you're fine. I just worry alright?" Bruce began to fill the little plastic cup in their room with water.
"I disappoint everyone; it's okay."
"No, you don'–"
"Mom, Dad, Obadiah, Rhodey…Pepper was the latest one, well before you, now." Tony listed despondently.
As Bruce handed Tony the water, he chuckled, "Obadiah Stane tried to kill you, Tony. I think he was more the disappointment."
"Was still my mentor." He mumbled into the cup. "And, the rest of the list still stands…" Tony set the cup aside.
Bruce knelt down and began to unlace Tony's sneakers. "You're not a disappointment Tony…" he whispered, looking at Tony's shoes, not entirely sure if he wanted to be heard. "You're a genius, who has overcome many setbacks, and who has very recently helped to save the world." He pulled off Tony's first shoe and moved to the other, "Pepper and Rhodey, I'm sure are proud of you. If your parents could see you, they would be, too. And, I certainly have never been disappointed in you." He pulled off Tony's second shoe.
"Really?" Apparently, whether Bruce wanted to be heard or not, Tony was listening.
Bruce looked up, meeting Tony's eyes, "Really."
"You're not disappointed, even now?" By the tone of Tony's voice, Bruce wasn't sure if this was even a question, but he answered.
"No. This is a little worrisome, but not disappointing."
Bruce felt his throat go dry, as Tony held his gaze. He thought he should break the eye contact, but the two or three drinks in his system didn't seem to let him move. Almost in slow motion, Bruce watched Tony come closer.
"Ton–" He whispered, as Tony's lips met his. Bruce felt a shiver run up his spine, and he almost let himself melt into the kiss, before he pulled away. Tony leaned forward, trying to follow him, and nearly falling off the bed.
"Is something wrong?" Tony asked.
"We shouldn't."
Tony leaned back, marginally righting himself on the bed. "Do you not want this? We can just kiss, Bruce. Sex…Sex is nice. I like sex. I would like that, but kissing is fine, if that's all you want…"
Bruce's brain froze, causing him to laugh somewhat hysterically. "Tony! Tony, no, no–I–you're not thinking…" he finished lamely.
"Do you not want to sleep with me?"
I do, Bruce thought, But… "I–well–I–that's not–that is not the point."
"No?" After a pause, he went on, "What? Would you Hulk out?"
"I don't think so–"
"Then, do you want sex, yes, or no? If you say no, right now, I will stop. I will go to sleep and never bring it up again."
Bruce knew what his answer should be. He should have said "No. Tony, go to sleep," but instead, he froze and gulped down a breath of air. The pause gave Tony just enough time to grin before leaning back down and kissing Bruce again.
This time, Bruce didn't resist the kiss, as he knew he should have. He felt Tony's beard brush against his face, as their lips moved together. Tony's surprisingly gentle fingers ran up Bruce's jaw and worked their way into his curls. Bruce grasped Tony's neck and held him for a moment, before he finally came to his senses.
"Tony, we can't do this. You're drunk." Bruce leaned as far as he could from Tony, which was altogether unsuccessful, as Tony still had hold of his hair.
"Doesn't mean I can't perform, darling." Tony whispered, lips against the underside of Bruce's jaw.
"That's not what I mean." Bruce shut his eyes, trying to ignore his reactions to Tony kissing down his throat.
Tony groaned and relaxed his spine, resting his face on Bruce's shoulder. "I'm not really that drunk, Bruce…"
"You're acting like it, and you've been drinking all day." Bruce intoned.
"I have a surprisingly high alcohol tolerance." Tony turned his head, and Bruce felt the soft in and out of Tony's breath on his neck.
"I believe it." Bruce muttered, looking at the ceiling and pointedly trying to slow his heart rate.
"So, I'm not too drunk, and you want this."
"I…" Bruce trailed off, and Tony used his grip on Bruce's hair to steer him back into a kiss.
Still gentle, Tony licked at Bruce's lips, encouraging him to open his mouth. Almost instinctually, Bruce obliged, allowing Tony's tongue in to explore his mouth. Without separating from Bruce, Tony climbed off the bed, pressing Bruce back to the floor, and settling on top of him.
Bruce shuddered. Tony's mouth was amazing, and his hands, and the smell of his aftershave, and even the taste of the four different types of alcohol on Tony's tongue. Bruce felt heat coiling in the base of his stomach, and he pushed Tony away.
"What?" Tony frowned,
"What about Pepper?"
Tony cocked an eyebrow, "What about her?"
"Aren't you and her, you know…a thing?" Bruce ducked his face away from Tony, as much as he could, on his back on the floor.
Tony grimaced, "Not really…once she had a proper talk with Coulson, I was pretty much out. We're just friendly business partners, now…"
Bruce didn't frown, but he felt his heart clench. "Does this make me a rebound, then?"
With a half-smile, Tony leaned back in, brushing his lips with Bruce's. "No," he whispered against Bruce's mouth, "You're too smart to be a rebound for me." Tony placed a soft kiss on Bruce's throat, "Let–" a kiss to Bruce's jaw, "me–" to his ear, "take care–" to his nose, "of you."
Bruce shivered.
Tony pulled back for a moment, looking directly into Bruce's eyes. "Bruce, please?"
Bruce couldn't find it in his heart to resist. He nodded, and Tony swooped in to reclaim Bruce's mouth.
Tony wasn't too drunk, and Bruce was just drunk enough. Maybe, it would work out.