Fic: Only Forever
Nov. 25th, 2011 07:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jenniTitle: Only Forever
Author: Jenlynn820
Pairing: Steve/Tony
Word Count: 1699
Rating: PG
Summary: Tony and Steve dance on the roof.
Notes: Movie-verse, established relationship. The title comes from the ‘Only Forever’ by Bing Crosby. The song is here. This is my first crack at this pairing.
If someone should ask.
How long would it take me
To be near if you beckon?
Off hand I would figure
Less than a second.
One minute Steve was punching a bag, killing time in the state-of-the-art gym deep in the heart of the Stark Mansion. The next, his presence, via J.A.R.V.I.S’ elegant tones, was being requested in the far western corner of the mansion, roof level, to be exact. Steve smiled to himself and abandoned his abuse of the heavy bag. He began to make his way to the roof when J.A.R.V.I.S started talking to him again and damn if that wasn’t still a tiny bit unnerving. “Big Brother is always watching,” Steve muttered out loud. He’d recently made his way through most of what was considered to be the classic literature he’d missed out on while being on ice. He wondered what Orwell would think of J.A.R.V.I.S. There was no time for that thought to fester, though, as J.A.R.V.I.S spoke again.
“I beg your pardon, Captain Rogers, but Mr. Stark as requested you change into your dress uniform, if that would be amenable.”
Steve shook his head, had to suppress some laughter. “Did you add the amenable part, J.A.R.V.I.S?”
“Indeed I did, sir,” the AI replied, and Steve swore, and not for the first time, that Tony’s computer had more personality than computers were strictly meant to.
“Tell Tony I’ll be an extra five minutes, maybe ten,” Steve said, turning around, jogging his way around a few corners, finding the stairs and eventually ending up in his room. Steve was out of his sweaty work out gear and getting into the shower when J.A.R.V.I.S voice piped into the room, echoing not unpleasantly off the walls.
“Mr. Stark says that he expects a far greater amount of precision from a soldier when said soldier is offering an estimated time of arrival. And that you can, and this is a direct quote, ‘cut the shower short, I don’t give a fuck if you smell.’”
Steve was grinning as he turned the water off, stepped out of the shower and toweled off. “Tell Tony that my ETA is three point 2 minutes, precisely,” he said, pulling on the slacks of his army dress uniform, then the shirt. He tucked the shirt in, knotted the tie, yanked the jacket on, slid the brass buttons through the holes and forced his feet into the polished oxford shoes as he started to make his way to the roof.
It was a bright, beautiful day in Malibu that was slowly edging towards night. The sky was a summer blue mottled with purples and pinks, the clouds puffs of white as the sun began its descent. Steve would always be a Brooklyn kid but the east coast had nothing on California in the area of sunsets. Steve forgot himself for a moment, staring at the sky, wishing he had a canvas and some paints because surely someone should commit this view to more than the fleeting memory of one human mind.
A low whistle snapped Steve out of his reverie. He looked across the roof to where Tony was leaning against the railing, all casual insouciance, dressed to the nines in a white tuxedo jacket, jet black pants and mirrored aviator sunglasses. The warm breeze ruffled Tony’s hair and the smile on his lips was laced with mischief. “You clean up, well, Cap,” Tony said, straightening up, taking a few measured steps in Steve’s direction.
“You stole my line,” Steve said, a bemused grin on his lips. “What is this?”
“This is the roof,” Tony said. “Which can serve as a grand ball room for parties. Roof, actually, is fairly inaccurate because you see those tiny beams there, there and there?” Tony motioned to where Steve should direct his attention. “Another roof can be put up, all glass, not glass, but, glass-like, transparent, with titanium alloy filaments creating what really is a gorgeous netting, a framework, so that this whole area can be enclosed and yet the light still comes in and…” Tony stopped. “Right, sidetracked for a moment there. Anyway, I used to throw really spectacular parties up here. Before you lot moved in and spoiled my fun.”
“Spoiled your fun, huh?” Steve said.
Tony nodded, stepping ever closer, until he was inches from Steve. He pulled his sunglasses off, stuck them in his pocket. Tony reached out, smoothed the sleeves of Steve’s jacket, fussed with the brass buttons of the jacket, the perfectly knotted tie. “Utterly,” he rasped.
“You have my deepest apologies,” Steve said.
“You’re not sorry, not even a little,” Tony accused.
“No, not even a little. And neither are you,” Steve said, leaning close, allowing his lips to ghost over Tony’s.
“Not even a little,” Tony said.
“But honestly, Tony. Why are we up? Why are we dressed like the topper of a wedding cake, standing on your roof that isn’t a roof?”
“Ah, yes, that,” Tony said. “Remember that thing Fury made us attend last week?”
Steve rolled his eyes. “I have never been involved in a bigger waste of time.”
“Fair enough but my concern was how you ran screaming every time some lovely lady wanted to trip the light fantastic with you. And while I would love to believe it was due to the fact that you can’t bear the thought of dancing cheek to cheek with anyone except yours truly—I suspect there’s a far more sinister reason.”
Steve sighed. “You got it one, Tony. I don’t know how to dance.”
“What about—you had someone during the war,” Tony said, his voice hesitant.
Steve never felt the need to talk about Peggy very much. Him and Peggy—they were all potential with no real payoff. His feelings for her were very real, and he wouldn’t dishonor them by dismissing them, but he’d never gotten a first dance, let alone a first date.
“We never had a chance. Over before it really started,” Steve said. He saw a dark, uneasy look in Tony’s eyes. For all of Tony’s vanity, his narcissism, his self-absorption, he was—brittle. One wrong step and the cracks widened into chasms. Steve closed the rest of the distance between them. “I live in the present, Tony. The here and now is my concern. The past is just that.”
“Well, then, to the matter at hand. A dance lesson.”
Now Steve chuckled. “You’re going to teach me to dance,” he said.
“This is my intention,” Tony said, stepping back and then holding out his hand.
Steve took it without hesitation, gripped it tightly. “Not that dancing they do in those music videos Thor likes so much?” Steve said, arching a brow.
Tony laughed. “No. Something a little more your speed, Cap. J.A.R.V.I.S, that’s your cue.”
Music began to play. The sound was pure, sublime, even, and Steve wondered how it was possible in a huge open space like this one but stopped worrying when he recognized the song. “Bing Crosby,” he said.
Tony smiled a deep, warm smile that made his eyes crinkle. “May I have this dance?”
“Most definitely,” Steve said. He took a careful step forward and straight into Tony’s arms. It was a surprisingly perfect fit, even with the height difference, the weight difference. But then, Steve wondered why it should surprise him at all. They had fit in unexpected ways almost right from the start. Almost being an important qualifier as Steve recalled the volatile nature of the first sparks between them. But that seemed like it happened in another age, receding into the past with every step forward.
As Tony led him across the roof, Steve found out that dancing came as easily to him as every other physical endeavor. A few early, hesitant missteps were quickly overcome. Steve looked down at Tony as Tony led Steve in slow, wide circles, crisscrossing the roof, the music on an infinite loop.
Do I want to be with you
As the years come and go?
Only forever
If you care to know.
Would I grant all your wishes
And be proud of the task
Only forever
“Why this song?” Steve asked.
Tony narrowed his eyes, affected a look of innocent confusion. “It’s from your era, I know you like this kind of music. Seemed like a good fit.”
“I see. So there’s no message that I should glean from the words?” Steve asked, a smile starting to curl his lips.
“None that I know of,” Tony said.
“I see,” Steve said and with a deft, quick movement took the lead, began easily guiding Tony, controlling the tempo, pulling the other man closer as their bodies moved to the gentle rhythm of the music.
“And the pupil outstrips the teacher,” Tony said, slightly annoyed, mostly pleased.
“Isn’t that what teachers want? For their students to outstrip them?”
“Not me. Strip, yes, outstrip, no,” Tony quipped.
Steve laughed, kissed Tony’s lips. “We’ll get to the stripping. Later.”
“I guess that’ll make up for it,” Tony murmured.
They got even closer, somehow, tossing their jackets off, bodies flush. Steve bent his head enough so that their cheeks could touch; the coarse bristles of Tony’s beard scratching against his skin, making him tingle, making him want more than just a dance. Tony remained relaxed, nearly pliant in Steve’s arms as the music went on .and on. The sun had sunk almost completely below the horizon, leaving them to dance beneath an ever darkening sky.
Steve moved an inch back, looked into Tony’s eyes, undid his bowtie, pulled open a few buttons of his white silk shirt. The cool, blue light of the ARC Reactor spilled out. Steve traced his finger along the edges of the ARC, met Tony’s eyes. “Thank you for this.”
“Everyone’s got to learn to dance sooner or later,” Tony said.
“I’m glad it was later,” Steve said. “Glad it was you.”
“Me too,” Tony said and pressed himself forward. Steve put his head on Tony’s shoulder and closed his eyes, sang along. Steve sang so only Tony could hear, as the stars flickered above; the incandescent blue that spilled out in space between them the only light they needed.
fin
Author: Jenlynn820
Pairing: Steve/Tony
Word Count: 1699
Rating: PG
Summary: Tony and Steve dance on the roof.
Notes: Movie-verse, established relationship. The title comes from the ‘Only Forever’ by Bing Crosby. The song is here. This is my first crack at this pairing.
How long would it take me
To be near if you beckon?
Off hand I would figure
Less than a second.
One minute Steve was punching a bag, killing time in the state-of-the-art gym deep in the heart of the Stark Mansion. The next, his presence, via J.A.R.V.I.S’ elegant tones, was being requested in the far western corner of the mansion, roof level, to be exact. Steve smiled to himself and abandoned his abuse of the heavy bag. He began to make his way to the roof when J.A.R.V.I.S started talking to him again and damn if that wasn’t still a tiny bit unnerving. “Big Brother is always watching,” Steve muttered out loud. He’d recently made his way through most of what was considered to be the classic literature he’d missed out on while being on ice. He wondered what Orwell would think of J.A.R.V.I.S. There was no time for that thought to fester, though, as J.A.R.V.I.S spoke again.
“I beg your pardon, Captain Rogers, but Mr. Stark as requested you change into your dress uniform, if that would be amenable.”
Steve shook his head, had to suppress some laughter. “Did you add the amenable part, J.A.R.V.I.S?”
“Indeed I did, sir,” the AI replied, and Steve swore, and not for the first time, that Tony’s computer had more personality than computers were strictly meant to.
“Tell Tony I’ll be an extra five minutes, maybe ten,” Steve said, turning around, jogging his way around a few corners, finding the stairs and eventually ending up in his room. Steve was out of his sweaty work out gear and getting into the shower when J.A.R.V.I.S voice piped into the room, echoing not unpleasantly off the walls.
“Mr. Stark says that he expects a far greater amount of precision from a soldier when said soldier is offering an estimated time of arrival. And that you can, and this is a direct quote, ‘cut the shower short, I don’t give a fuck if you smell.’”
Steve was grinning as he turned the water off, stepped out of the shower and toweled off. “Tell Tony that my ETA is three point 2 minutes, precisely,” he said, pulling on the slacks of his army dress uniform, then the shirt. He tucked the shirt in, knotted the tie, yanked the jacket on, slid the brass buttons through the holes and forced his feet into the polished oxford shoes as he started to make his way to the roof.
It was a bright, beautiful day in Malibu that was slowly edging towards night. The sky was a summer blue mottled with purples and pinks, the clouds puffs of white as the sun began its descent. Steve would always be a Brooklyn kid but the east coast had nothing on California in the area of sunsets. Steve forgot himself for a moment, staring at the sky, wishing he had a canvas and some paints because surely someone should commit this view to more than the fleeting memory of one human mind.
A low whistle snapped Steve out of his reverie. He looked across the roof to where Tony was leaning against the railing, all casual insouciance, dressed to the nines in a white tuxedo jacket, jet black pants and mirrored aviator sunglasses. The warm breeze ruffled Tony’s hair and the smile on his lips was laced with mischief. “You clean up, well, Cap,” Tony said, straightening up, taking a few measured steps in Steve’s direction.
“You stole my line,” Steve said, a bemused grin on his lips. “What is this?”
“This is the roof,” Tony said. “Which can serve as a grand ball room for parties. Roof, actually, is fairly inaccurate because you see those tiny beams there, there and there?” Tony motioned to where Steve should direct his attention. “Another roof can be put up, all glass, not glass, but, glass-like, transparent, with titanium alloy filaments creating what really is a gorgeous netting, a framework, so that this whole area can be enclosed and yet the light still comes in and…” Tony stopped. “Right, sidetracked for a moment there. Anyway, I used to throw really spectacular parties up here. Before you lot moved in and spoiled my fun.”
“Spoiled your fun, huh?” Steve said.
Tony nodded, stepping ever closer, until he was inches from Steve. He pulled his sunglasses off, stuck them in his pocket. Tony reached out, smoothed the sleeves of Steve’s jacket, fussed with the brass buttons of the jacket, the perfectly knotted tie. “Utterly,” he rasped.
“You have my deepest apologies,” Steve said.
“You’re not sorry, not even a little,” Tony accused.
“No, not even a little. And neither are you,” Steve said, leaning close, allowing his lips to ghost over Tony’s.
“Not even a little,” Tony said.
“But honestly, Tony. Why are we up? Why are we dressed like the topper of a wedding cake, standing on your roof that isn’t a roof?”
“Ah, yes, that,” Tony said. “Remember that thing Fury made us attend last week?”
Steve rolled his eyes. “I have never been involved in a bigger waste of time.”
“Fair enough but my concern was how you ran screaming every time some lovely lady wanted to trip the light fantastic with you. And while I would love to believe it was due to the fact that you can’t bear the thought of dancing cheek to cheek with anyone except yours truly—I suspect there’s a far more sinister reason.”
Steve sighed. “You got it one, Tony. I don’t know how to dance.”
“What about—you had someone during the war,” Tony said, his voice hesitant.
Steve never felt the need to talk about Peggy very much. Him and Peggy—they were all potential with no real payoff. His feelings for her were very real, and he wouldn’t dishonor them by dismissing them, but he’d never gotten a first dance, let alone a first date.
“We never had a chance. Over before it really started,” Steve said. He saw a dark, uneasy look in Tony’s eyes. For all of Tony’s vanity, his narcissism, his self-absorption, he was—brittle. One wrong step and the cracks widened into chasms. Steve closed the rest of the distance between them. “I live in the present, Tony. The here and now is my concern. The past is just that.”
“Well, then, to the matter at hand. A dance lesson.”
Now Steve chuckled. “You’re going to teach me to dance,” he said.
“This is my intention,” Tony said, stepping back and then holding out his hand.
Steve took it without hesitation, gripped it tightly. “Not that dancing they do in those music videos Thor likes so much?” Steve said, arching a brow.
Tony laughed. “No. Something a little more your speed, Cap. J.A.R.V.I.S, that’s your cue.”
Music began to play. The sound was pure, sublime, even, and Steve wondered how it was possible in a huge open space like this one but stopped worrying when he recognized the song. “Bing Crosby,” he said.
Tony smiled a deep, warm smile that made his eyes crinkle. “May I have this dance?”
“Most definitely,” Steve said. He took a careful step forward and straight into Tony’s arms. It was a surprisingly perfect fit, even with the height difference, the weight difference. But then, Steve wondered why it should surprise him at all. They had fit in unexpected ways almost right from the start. Almost being an important qualifier as Steve recalled the volatile nature of the first sparks between them. But that seemed like it happened in another age, receding into the past with every step forward.
As Tony led him across the roof, Steve found out that dancing came as easily to him as every other physical endeavor. A few early, hesitant missteps were quickly overcome. Steve looked down at Tony as Tony led Steve in slow, wide circles, crisscrossing the roof, the music on an infinite loop.
As the years come and go?
Only forever
If you care to know.
Would I grant all your wishes
And be proud of the task
Only forever
“Why this song?” Steve asked.
Tony narrowed his eyes, affected a look of innocent confusion. “It’s from your era, I know you like this kind of music. Seemed like a good fit.”
“I see. So there’s no message that I should glean from the words?” Steve asked, a smile starting to curl his lips.
“None that I know of,” Tony said.
“I see,” Steve said and with a deft, quick movement took the lead, began easily guiding Tony, controlling the tempo, pulling the other man closer as their bodies moved to the gentle rhythm of the music.
“And the pupil outstrips the teacher,” Tony said, slightly annoyed, mostly pleased.
“Isn’t that what teachers want? For their students to outstrip them?”
“Not me. Strip, yes, outstrip, no,” Tony quipped.
Steve laughed, kissed Tony’s lips. “We’ll get to the stripping. Later.”
“I guess that’ll make up for it,” Tony murmured.
They got even closer, somehow, tossing their jackets off, bodies flush. Steve bent his head enough so that their cheeks could touch; the coarse bristles of Tony’s beard scratching against his skin, making him tingle, making him want more than just a dance. Tony remained relaxed, nearly pliant in Steve’s arms as the music went on .and on. The sun had sunk almost completely below the horizon, leaving them to dance beneath an ever darkening sky.
Steve moved an inch back, looked into Tony’s eyes, undid his bowtie, pulled open a few buttons of his white silk shirt. The cool, blue light of the ARC Reactor spilled out. Steve traced his finger along the edges of the ARC, met Tony’s eyes. “Thank you for this.”
“Everyone’s got to learn to dance sooner or later,” Tony said.
“I’m glad it was later,” Steve said. “Glad it was you.”
“Me too,” Tony said and pressed himself forward. Steve put his head on Tony’s shoulder and closed his eyes, sang along. Steve sang so only Tony could hear, as the stars flickered above; the incandescent blue that spilled out in space between them the only light they needed.
fin
no subject
Date: 2011-11-26 09:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-27 01:17 am (UTC)Nice to have company here!
Date: 2011-11-27 12:56 am (UTC)Other wise, d'awww.
Re: Nice to have company here!
Date: 2011-11-27 01:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-23 03:02 am (UTC)Also, just the right mix of humor and elegance for both characters, too.
no subject
Date: 2011-12-23 09:52 pm (UTC)