Uh. Yeah, something like that. [ It doesn't sound very convincing, but Steve still doesn't understand what's happening and doubts he could explain it. He doesn't want to worry Tony with this, especially when there's only one of them actively bleeding here.
Steve picks up the needle, sanitizes it under stream of rubbing alcohol, and goes in again. The pain returns as soon as he starts suturing but he grits his teeth and tries to put it out of his mind. ]
[It's not convincing at all, and Tony's starting to wonder if his original hypothesis was right and Steve was just too fucking stoic to make a sound. He can tell that there's something off while Steve stitches him up, and halfway through, Tony reaches out to put a hand on his arm.]
You can feel it, can't you?
[Orrrrr maybe he's just crazy. Could be that one.]
[ Slowly, Steve turns to look at Tony. The pieces start to fall into place, like the details that bring an oil painting into focus. As crazy as it seems, he knows exactly what Tony is asking. ]
Is that why you did this? [ He gestures down at Tony's half-sutured palm in disbelief. Surely there was a better way to go about it, or at least one that involved less bleeding. ]
Yeah, I thought you'd yell like a normal person experiencing sudden inexplicable pain. Shoulda known you'd be stubborn about it. You had me thinking I'd fucked up my hand for nothing.
[Which, frankly, would have been more annoying than discovering a mysterious link to Steve that probably can't be explained by science. Ugh, is he going to have to consult Strange on this?]
You know, a simple slap probably would've done the trick. [ A beat passes as Steve tries to process what he's just learned and what it means for them. Realizing that the newfound ease between himself and Tony might be the result of some unseen force is surprisingly disappointing. He decides to go for levity even as a sinking feeling hits the pit of his stomach. ] Besides, I thought we'd established I'm not much of a screamer.
You only say that 'cause I haven't had a chance to really go to town on you yet.
[In spite of the throbbing pain in his hand, Tony smirks at Steve, and the dark gleam in his eyes and the twist of arousal in the pit of his stomach have absolutely nothing to do with Steve's libido. Boy, he really regrets using his good hand for that little experiment now; it's going to make things a lot more difficult.]
Uh huh. You planning to put your money where your mouth is, or is that all talk? [ Egging Tony on is easy and familiar, especially now that there's no real bite behind it. They're far past the point of having to prove anything to each other.
A spark of arousal shoots through Steve, seemingly out of nowhere, except that now he knows the likely source, strange as it still is to even consider. He looks back at Tony with a brow raised. ] Was that you?
Uh, well, I was hitting on you, so yes. And I absolutely will put my money where my mouth is, but maybe not today.
[They can't all be super-soldiers, and also Tony's still bleeding in the sink. If they get trapped in another feedback loop-
Actually, he's probably going to spend the rest of his life getting stuck in horny feedback loops with Steve, and somehow, Tony can't bring himself to complain about it. Especially since Steve's the reason why he has any life to look forward to.]
If you can't stitch it up, I'm still open to the glue option. Seriously, Steve, they do use it in hospitals.
[And maybe Steve's okay with feeling the needle and repressing his pain like a man, but Tony - ironically enough - doesn't want to make him do that.]
[ Steve doesn't have the old-fashioned sense of distrust for new technologies that people often expect of him, but he still hesitates, considering the options in front of him. Ultimately it comes down to pain for Steve too: the possibility that Tony might actually be suggesting an alternative because taking stitches without anesthetic is a bitch, but he can't flat lout admit to any weakness in front of Steve. ]
It's gonna look weird, [ he notes as he digs through his first aid for the tube of liquid stitches. He twists off the cap, bites off the security seal, and reaches for Tony's hand again. A pang shoots through his own palm as Steve squeezes both sides of Tony's wound closer together. ] Sorry. Almost done.
Oh, no, a weird-looking wound on my palm, however will I cope? [Totally deadpan, because, gosh, what a novel experience.]
-okay, why the fuck did you try stitching it first if you had liquid stitches all along, you jackass? [Tony just huffs indignantly, because his irritation gives him something to focus on besides the pain. (He and pain are old friends by now, but that doesn't mean he won't swallow a fistful of aspirin at the first opportunity.)] God, you are the worst doctor.
I forgot it was even in there. [ Steve replies with a shrug. He has rarely had occasion to use the kit in his bathroom: with exception for injuries severe enough to land him in the hospital, the serum takes care of healing more efficiently than stitches would.
He hums a laugh as Tony continues to criticize his first aid skills. ]
You're not the best patient yourself, you know.
[ Steve examines Tony's wound with a critical eye once he is finished applying the sutures. He can feel the phantom sting in his own palm. ]
I think there's some topical analgesic in here, if you want?
[ Instead of waiting for an answer, Steve starts digging around in the kit for something to soothe the pain. ]
I'm never going to be able to hide anything again. Every time I stub my toe, you're going to be there hovering to make sure I'm all right.
[Part of him insists that maybe having someone to take care of him wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, especially not if it's Steve. But Tony's also stubborn enough to think about all the times he's lied about minor injuries on missions - things Steve might sideline him for, like bruised ribs - and consider the repercussions of that.
But despite his complaining (which might have a note of fondness to it), Tony doesn't pull back. Instead, he keeps his hand where it is and continues to let Steve doctor him.]
You think this is permanent? [ The question comes out of curiosity. Genius though he may be, Tony's disdain for the mystical arts is well known, so Steve is prepared to take any and all of Tony's preliminary theories with a grain of salt.
After spraying something for the pain over Tony's palm, Steve finally gives him back his hand. ] There. All better. [ He can't help the sappy grin that crosses his lips as he says it, so he tries to hide it by turning away to busy himself storing away the first aid kit. ]
Dunno, I'll have to - [dramatic sigh, ugh] call Strange.
[Just because he and the sorcerer are on marginally better terms now than when they first met doesn't mean that Tony enjoys the thought of being lectured about an invisible force that doesn't have the decency to obey a single goddamn scientific law. It's like being stuck with himself, a fate worse than death.]
Hopefully we can talk him into doing a house call.
[Tony does his best to rinse his slightly numb hand off in the sink. Which, okay, fucking hurts anyway, but he can't just walk around with a bloody hand all day. He can't even hide in Steve's room and let him fuck him all day, although the idea has merit. Zero good hands tends to limit his contribution to sex, and Tony really doesn't want to risk ripping his stitches. They'll have to get Rhodey to stitch him up next - or, worse yet, Sam - and he's really not ready for that talk yet.]
We should probably put clothes on and eat something at some point.
Shouldn't be too big of an ask for someone who travels by portal. [ Steve says with a shrug, truly naive to the extent of Strange's grouchiness. At Tony's suggestion, he shoots a look between them, lightly startled to remember they're both still naked. Between Tony's injury and their unexplained mystical connection, Steve almost managed to forget that other earth-shattering development between them.
He peeks around the bathroom door until he gets a line of sight on the digital alarm clock. (Purely ornamental; Steve has never once had to set it.) ]
Yeah, good idea. The super soldier hunger pangs are gonna start any minute now, and I think you've suffered enough.
God, if I get your appetite for food, you're going to have to roll me everywhere. Think of my girlish figure.
[And then you won't want me anymore, Tony thinks, although he's pretty sure their arousal feedback loop is the only reason why Steve wants him to begin with. And, hell, it's a solid reason; Tony had just been stupid enough to hope that maybe they could end up being something more.]
I'm stealing a shirt and a pair of pants.
[Will they fit? No. But his clothes are dirty, and he needs to wear something.]
You hate my shirts. And my pants. [ It's a goodhearted grumble, punctuated by the fact that Steve is already exiting the bathroom to rummage through his drawers. It takes him a minute or two to find what he thinks might be the least offensive articles to offer Tony— a plain white t-shirt and gray sweats. ] These okay?
That's because you buy them in bulk from Costco. In the wrong size.
[As proven by the fact that the t-shirt still doesn't fit Tony when he pulls it on, though it doesn't have that painted on look that it would on Steve. The pants are too big - and how Steve manages to have pants that are too big for him and shirts that are too small is a mystery, though having seen him naked does help explain the former. He rolls the bottoms up and tugs the drawstring tight.]
I gotta wear something to breakfast, and your clean clothes are the most presentable option.
[ There is something achingly domestic about how Tony looks wearing his clothes. It makes Steve wish that this thing between them were real and not just the consequence of some mystic bond. He hasn't processed that fully yet, and doesn't really want to. It's no fun finding out that Tony is actually just reflecting Steve's own feelings back at him. It could get ugly, unraveling all that later on, which is all the more reason to want to stay in this moment. ]
You're going to breakfast in those? I thought you just needed something to make it back to your room and get your own clothes.
[ The implied question is clear: does Tony really want everyone to see him in Steve's clothes? They've both heard enough jokes about staring into each other's eyes; are they going to feed that fire? ]
Never let it be said I didn't fully embrace a walk of shame, Steve. [There's a pause as he hastily considers the words that just came out of his mouth, and then Tony adds:] Not that there's anything to be ashamed of. It's just, you know, what the kids say.
[More like what the kids have been saying since Tony was a kid, but look, all slang is new to Steve.]
Anyway, who even knows if anyone's in there to see us?
[ He knows that the kitchen gets the most traffic of almost any facility in the compound, so Steve isn't sold on the idea that no one will see them. But if it doesn't matter to Tony, he doesn't see why it should matter to him. As long as he doesn't read into it too much. Tony is used to everyone knowing intimate details about him; it probably says more about him than it does how he feels about Steve. ]
Alright. After you, then.
[ In true gentleman fashion, he hurries to hold the door open as they exit his room. ]
Incidentally, the reason why I hate your clothes is because they do your ass no favors. Especially sweatpants. You might as well be wearing mom jeans, Christ.
[They don't do Tony's ass any favors, either, and that's just sad.]
I'm also shamelessly taking advantage of your two good hands to fix breakfast, by the way. Even if it is just a bowl of cereal. [Because he's not sure he trusts Steve to make much else.]
So, just to be clear, your problem with my clothes is they're not slutty enough? [ Actually, when Steve hears himself say it out loud, it tracks perfectly. Tony flirts as easily as he breathes, so Steve always shrugged off mentions of his ass. Looking back, Tony was probably being more serious than Steve ever gave him credit for. ]
That's not fair. I can toast a mean bagel. [ Just don't let him fidget with the toaster settings. ]
Steve, I can tell if we need to turn the heating up by looking at your chest. The t-shirts aren't the problem.
[Hey, there's a reason why Steve's ass looks a lot better in uniforms designed by Tony. He definitely takes that area into consideration - after all, he has to look at it, doesn't he?]
Yeah, no, we do not let you near the toaster for a reason. I haven't forgotten that fire.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Steve picks up the needle, sanitizes it under stream of rubbing alcohol, and goes in again. The pain returns as soon as he starts suturing but he grits his teeth and tries to put it out of his mind. ]
no subject
You can feel it, can't you?
[Orrrrr maybe he's just crazy. Could be that one.]
no subject
Is that why you did this? [ He gestures down at Tony's half-sutured palm in disbelief. Surely there was a better way to go about it, or at least one that involved less bleeding. ]
no subject
[Which, frankly, would have been more annoying than discovering a mysterious link to Steve that probably can't be explained by science. Ugh, is he going to have to consult Strange on this?]
no subject
no subject
[In spite of the throbbing pain in his hand, Tony smirks at Steve, and the dark gleam in his eyes and the twist of arousal in the pit of his stomach have absolutely nothing to do with Steve's libido. Boy, he really regrets using his good hand for that little experiment now; it's going to make things a lot more difficult.]
no subject
A spark of arousal shoots through Steve, seemingly out of nowhere, except that now he knows the likely source, strange as it still is to even consider. He looks back at Tony with a brow raised. ] Was that you?
no subject
[They can't all be super-soldiers, and also Tony's still bleeding in the sink. If they get trapped in another feedback loop-
Actually, he's probably going to spend the rest of his life getting stuck in horny feedback loops with Steve, and somehow, Tony can't bring himself to complain about it. Especially since Steve's the reason why he has any life to look forward to.]
If you can't stitch it up, I'm still open to the glue option. Seriously, Steve, they do use it in hospitals.
[And maybe Steve's okay with feeling the needle and repressing his pain like a man, but Tony - ironically enough - doesn't want to make him do that.]
no subject
It's gonna look weird, [ he notes as he digs through his first aid for the tube of liquid stitches. He twists off the cap, bites off the security seal, and reaches for Tony's hand again. A pang shoots through his own palm as Steve squeezes both sides of Tony's wound closer together. ] Sorry. Almost done.
no subject
-okay, why the fuck did you try stitching it first if you had liquid stitches all along, you jackass? [Tony just huffs indignantly, because his irritation gives him something to focus on besides the pain. (He and pain are old friends by now, but that doesn't mean he won't swallow a fistful of aspirin at the first opportunity.)] God, you are the worst doctor.
no subject
He hums a laugh as Tony continues to criticize his first aid skills. ]
You're not the best patient yourself, you know.
[ Steve examines Tony's wound with a critical eye once he is finished applying the sutures. He can feel the phantom sting in his own palm. ]
I think there's some topical analgesic in here, if you want?
[ Instead of waiting for an answer, Steve starts digging around in the kit for something to soothe the pain. ]
no subject
[Part of him insists that maybe having someone to take care of him wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, especially not if it's Steve. But Tony's also stubborn enough to think about all the times he's lied about minor injuries on missions - things Steve might sideline him for, like bruised ribs - and consider the repercussions of that.
But despite his complaining (which might have a note of fondness to it), Tony doesn't pull back. Instead, he keeps his hand where it is and continues to let Steve doctor him.]
no subject
After spraying something for the pain over Tony's palm, Steve finally gives him back his hand. ] There. All better. [ He can't help the sappy grin that crosses his lips as he says it, so he tries to hide it by turning away to busy himself storing away the first aid kit. ]
no subject
[Just because he and the sorcerer are on marginally better terms now than when they first met doesn't mean that Tony enjoys the thought of being lectured about an invisible force that doesn't have the decency to obey a single goddamn scientific law. It's like being stuck with himself, a fate worse than death.]
Hopefully we can talk him into doing a house call.
[Tony does his best to rinse his slightly numb hand off in the sink. Which, okay, fucking hurts anyway, but he can't just walk around with a bloody hand all day. He can't even hide in Steve's room and let him fuck him all day, although the idea has merit. Zero good hands tends to limit his contribution to sex, and Tony really doesn't want to risk ripping his stitches. They'll have to get Rhodey to stitch him up next - or, worse yet, Sam - and he's really not ready for that talk yet.]
We should probably put clothes on and eat something at some point.
no subject
He peeks around the bathroom door until he gets a line of sight on the digital alarm clock. (Purely ornamental; Steve has never once had to set it.) ]
Yeah, good idea. The super soldier hunger pangs are gonna start any minute now, and I think you've suffered enough.
no subject
[And then you won't want me anymore, Tony thinks, although he's pretty sure their arousal feedback loop is the only reason why Steve wants him to begin with. And, hell, it's a solid reason; Tony had just been stupid enough to hope that maybe they could end up being something more.]
I'm stealing a shirt and a pair of pants.
[Will they fit? No. But his clothes are dirty, and he needs to wear something.]
no subject
no subject
[As proven by the fact that the t-shirt still doesn't fit Tony when he pulls it on, though it doesn't have that painted on look that it would on Steve. The pants are too big - and how Steve manages to have pants that are too big for him and shirts that are too small is a mystery, though having seen him naked does help explain the former. He rolls the bottoms up and tugs the drawstring tight.]
I gotta wear something to breakfast, and your clean clothes are the most presentable option.
no subject
You're going to breakfast in those? I thought you just needed something to make it back to your room and get your own clothes.
[ The implied question is clear: does Tony really want everyone to see him in Steve's clothes? They've both heard enough jokes about staring into each other's eyes; are they going to feed that fire? ]
no subject
[More like what the kids have been saying since Tony was a kid, but look, all slang is new to Steve.]
Anyway, who even knows if anyone's in there to see us?
no subject
Alright. After you, then.
[ In true gentleman fashion, he hurries to hold the door open as they exit his room. ]
no subject
[They don't do Tony's ass any favors, either, and that's just sad.]
I'm also shamelessly taking advantage of your two good hands to fix breakfast, by the way. Even if it is just a bowl of cereal. [Because he's not sure he trusts Steve to make much else.]
no subject
That's not fair. I can toast a mean bagel. [ Just don't let him fidget with the toaster settings. ]
no subject
[Hey, there's a reason why Steve's ass looks a lot better in uniforms designed by Tony. He definitely takes that area into consideration - after all, he has to look at it, doesn't he?]
Yeah, no, we do not let you near the toaster for a reason. I haven't forgotten that fire.
no subject
I prefer the term 'incident.' Fire makes it sound like something burned down, which, for the record, nothing did.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)