twentysomething

PART 3.

Length: 4,500 wordish this part, totaling out at 33,500, sweet baby christmas jesus.

Notes: ALSDFAH;DLFHASODFASDFA DONE. (ALSO I LOVE YOU leupagus, YOU MADE ME CRY LAUGHING WITH YOUR BETA FOR THE SEX SCENE.)



Jarvis guides him out, sounding a little plaintive. Steve thanks him for all his help with the evening and there’s a strange quality to the silence in his room the rest of the night, like Jarvis is trying to figure out the right thing to say but coming up blank.

When he heads out to the kitchen, Darcy is already there, sipping at something that smells rich and spicy. “Morning, Cap,” she says, eyes still half shut, hair pulled into a messy bun with a large binder clip. “You want some chai?”

“Sure,” Steve says with a shrug.

“Box in the door, microwave, minute and a half.” she instructs. Steve pulls down the mug he thinks of as his, the brightly colored Met one. The smell from the box is the same sweet spice Steve can smell in the air and precisely a minute and a half later he has his own steaming hot mug. He hooks a foot around a spare stool and joins Darcy at the counter in companionable silence.

“I’m guessing you don’t want to talk about it,” she says, sipping slowly.

“Talk about what?” Steve asks, aware that he’s dissembling.

Darcy squints at him. “Yeah, okay,” she finally allows. “Anyway, you wanna know something weird? I think I’m gonna tell my mom that I’m dating Clint. It’s been over a week and no one is dead or anything. She’ll probably flip, but I think when she met Coulson she thought I was being sold into really polite indentured servitude, anyway. She’ll probably be happy to think I did it for a guy, instead.”

Steve blinks. “Did you join SHIELD for Clint?” Steve hadn’t thought it was like that.

Darcy snorts. “Oh, hell no. But I think it’ll make my mother happy. She’d feel a lot better if there was a grand romantic reason behind it, rather than the truth.” Darcy says, taking a long gulp.

Steve raises an eyebrow. “What is the truth?” he asks.

She grins. “I wanna work with the good guys, obviously. Save the world.” she explains.

Steve can’t help but smile back. “Well, we’re lucky to have you on our side.” Steve tells her. He likes people who want to do the right thing because it’s the right thing.

“Damn right,” Clint says, swooping in to drop a kiss on top of Darcy’s head. Steve can’t stifle his wistful smile at the way Darcy tilts her head back and grins up at Clint.

“We ate all the cookies last night.” Clint says, by way of greeting. Steve frowns and Clint rolls his eyes. “What, dad? We shared with Natasha and Bruce.”

“They were delicious, thank you, Steve,” Bruce adds, making a beeline for the coffeepot. Steve spares a second to enjoy how nice this is, the four of them in the kitchen on a Saturday morning, Clint and Bruce amiably avoiding making the next pot of coffee, draining it to the dregs. Steve likes the soft noise of it, the way they fill up the space. It’s not the same as the crowded campfires Steve remembers, but there’s something of the same feeling of team, of family.

Clint argues that because it’s a Saturday morning, none of them are allowed to work, not even Bruce. There’s a fight for the remote that Darcy wins by dint of using a trick Natasha showed her. Steve doesn’t even try. They end up watching something about puppets called the Muppets who are trying to make a movie. Steve feels very strongly for Kermit.

Over the course of the movie, Clint and Steve end up on opposite ends of the couch with Darcy curled against Clint’s side and her feet in Steve’s lap. Bruce is in his armchair, but for once not reading through something in a manila folder or composition notebook at the same time.

Miss Piggy is karate chopping Doc Hopper’s henchmen when Natasha wanders into the room, nose mostly in a book. She glances up, snorts, but says nothing before gracefully folding herself up on the floor, leaning half against the couch, half against Steve’s legs. When the next movie starts- something animated about super heroes, of all things- none of them make a move. Steve feels drowsy with contentment, but he can’t help looking around the room and feeling someone missing. As the credits are rolling, Jane and Thor walk in, apparently fresh from brunch. While everyone’s occupied talking about maybe going out for dinner, Steve slips into the kitchen.

“Hey Jarvis?” Steve asks quietly, because he can’t hide from Toni forever. He glances at his watch and frowns. “Has Toni eaten anything yet today?”

“Yes, sir. However, I believe a snack and a break would be very welcome.” Jarvis suggests. Steve nods, taking a perfect shining green apple from the fruit bowl.

***

He heads down to the workshop, the extra zip of speed in the elevator he associates with Jarvis giving it a nudge. She’s bent over a circuit board, wearing a gray Air Force academy t-shirt, undoubtedly stolen from Colonel Rhodes, her hair pulled up into the messy ponytail he finds so endearing. It takes Toni maybe a full minute to realize he’s there, standing next to where she’s sitting, but Steve is loathe to distract her while she has a soldering iron in hand.

“Hey,” Toni says, holstering the iron in its stand. “That ‘emergency’ was unbelievably stupid, by the way, sorry about that. One of my interns accidentally hacked the DOD.”

Steve blinks for a second, because that doesn’t seem like you can do by accident, but really, what would he know about it.

“I had to go stop him from getting black sedaned to Guantanamo,” Toni elaborates with a shrug.

“That was nice of you,” Steve says, putting the apple down in front of her.

“I am a nurturing mentor like tha- is that apple for me?” she asks.

Steve nods. “Jarvis said you could use a snack,” Steve explains. “You could use something that didn’t come out of a vending machine, you certainly don’t get any sun.

Toni raises her eyebrows. “What, an apple a day keeps the doctor away? You're bringing me apples so I'll stick around to get old and gray?” Toni teases, slipping her hands into the pockets of her beaten up old jeans.

Steve is momentarily struck silent because he was sort of planning on being around to make sure Toni would live long enough to get old. Toni’s impulsive and brilliant and going to die before she’s fifty unless someone’s around to watch her back. She spends most of her time thinking of things to build to fight for those who need it and protect the people who fight alongside her- there isn’t a single member of the team without a piece of Stark technology on them. Steve couldn’t stop himself from falling in love with her and he’s not sure he’ll be able to stop loving her, either.

She’s staring at him like she’s never seen him before and Steve’s about to say something, anything, when Toni just breathes out a soft “holy shit.”

Toni stands up, straight against Steve, and kisses him.

There’s a delirious moment where Steve wonders if he fell asleep on the couch and is only dreaming, but the soft, warm press of Toni’s body against his isn’t something he thinks he could have imagined. Her mouth is slick and hot against his and Steve can’t help but bring a hand up to cup the side of her face, to keep her close a little longer.

“Oh my god,” Toni mutters when they finally break apart, still so close that her face is a blur of tanned skin and brown eyes.

“I thought, I thought you were trying to let me down easy,” Steve gasps.

“Oh my god, those were dates,” Toni groans, leaning up to kiss Steve again quickly, not for long enough. “You took me out on dates? What- why didn’t you just say something?” she demands, but before Steve can say anything she’s kissing him again and Steve isn’t inclined to stop. They finally break apart for air again and Steve can’t wipe the grin off his face.

“Toni, I wrote an angry letter to The Post about you, it was pretty obvious,” Steve reminds her. Toni sighs and kisses Steve again, her fingers catching in his t-shirt.

“Oh my god, we’re so dumb,” she mutters, dragging Steve down to kiss.

Steve isn’t sure how long they spend kissing, but eventually they’re both getting a crick in their necks, so Toni climbs up to sit on the counter. She shoves a pile of debris to the side, which makes her just tall enough to kiss comfortably, Steve moving to stand in the open v of her legs, her knees bracketing his hips.

Steve has never had an opportunity to do this- just kiss and kiss for the enjoyment of it. In fact, Steve hasn’t done a lot of kissing, period. There’s an electric tingle under his skin, in the pads of his fingers where they’re tangled in Toni’s hair and resting against her cheekbones; a restless heat in the pit of his stomach. Toni makes pleased noises against his mouth, purring hums and breathy sighs that make him feel like his body is too small for him, his electric skin too tight.

It’s almost a relief when Jarvis apologetically clears his throat, like the first breath after being under water. “As sorry as I am to interrupt, I believe I have kept out the other Avengers as long as is possible. They are insisting that there is a mandatory team dinner.” Jarvis does sound equal parts sorry and annoyed.

“Okay, fuck those guys,” Toni mutters, bending to nip at the underside of Steve’s jaw, sending a tight shot of pleasure down his spine.

“It’s only a matter of time until we figure out this door code!” Clint yells from the other side of the door, much closer than Steve had thought.

“Jarvis, run a scramble on it. Change it every 5 seconds.” Toni tells him. “Okay, now where were we?”

“Um,” Steve mutters, and he can feel his face going red. “They’re right outside the door.”

“Oh, you should not have performance anxiety,” Toni purrs at him. “Not an exhibitionist, huh?”

“Not so much,” Steve says. Toni sighs, dropping one last kiss on Steve’s mouth. Her lips look bee-stung, red. It’s almost enough to make Steve forget his reservations.

“Fine, but next time you’re letting me lock everyone else out and we’re staying in here making out.” Toni is probably not joking.

Steve smiles. “Next time?” he can’t stop himself from asking.

Toni narrows her eyes at him. “No, I tricked you into liking me fair and square. I get to make out with you as much as I want.” she insists, kissing Steve again like he might say no.

“Anything you want,” Steve admits.

Toni bites her lip. “Okay, pin in that for later,” she says firmly.

When they’ve straightened up- with only a few breaks- they open the door and Clint and Darcy are on the other side, arms folded.

“I don’t know what to say,” Clint says finally, which is such a lie.

“You’re sorry for being a cockblocking dick?” Toni asks flatly.

Darcy snorts. “He’s totally not sorry for that. Now that you guys are finally together, he’s probably not going to stop,” At least Darcy is honest.

“C’mon, we’re all going Vynyl,” she tells them.

Toni buries her face in her hands. “I can’t believe you guys stopped me from making out with Captain America so I could go drink kitsch cocktails.” Toni mumbles.

Steve feels the tips of his ears going red, but he slips his hand in Toni’s. “It’s team building,” he reminds her. “You skipped the Muppets this morning, you have to do this.”

Toni scowls, but lets herself be led out of the workshop.

They actually have a great time, even if he’s preoccupied by the way Toni’s leg is pressed to his under the table. It makes Steve happy to see them all around a table that isn’t a conference table- Bruce and Natasha whispering about something at one end, Jane and Thor at the other, just as close as Toni and Steve. Clint and Darcy complete the table and Steve throws his arm around the back of Toni’s chair, just grinning when the manager asks if they wouldn’t mind a picture. Steve asks for a copy and when it’s emailed to him, he prints it out and tacks it up behind his desk.

Despite the tone of their conversations earlier in the night, Toni heads out to Stark Tower after dinner.

“I don’t want to scare you off with my wandering hands,” she says, grinning. “I’ll be better behaved tomorrow, I promise.”

Steve ducks his head and kisses her, soft and sweet. “I like you behaved just the way you are,” he tells her.

Toni shakes her head. “That is definitely the first time anyone has ever said that to me,” Toni laughs. “You might regret that one.”

Steve can’t help but kiss her one more time. “Nope,” he says. Toni just shakes her head and walks off toward the garage. Steve watches her go and when he turns around, rather than the rest of the team, there is just Colonel Fury. Steve nearly bites his tongue.

“Sir,” Steve squeaks out.

Fury stares at him for a long minute then sighs. “She’s your problem now,” Fury says, completely devoid of expression. “And may god have mercy on your soul.” He spins away with a flap of his leather coat; already gone by the time Steve opens his mouth to say something.

He shrugs and heads up to his room. Steve’s almost ready for bed when his phone goes off.

Thank you, she was getting intolerable- Pepper

Steve blushes for almost a whole minute.

You’re welcome? Steve finally sends back.

***

Any pressure Steve might have felt, starting a relationship with Toni- which is wildly speculated upon by the gossip community- is relieved by several psychotic incidents with Loki, Doctor Doom, and even one run in with Magneto. Toni had complained about the damage done to her suit for weeks, while Steve had just felt dizzy with relief that it had just been the suit and not Toni crushed like a can. He’d made an extremely strong recommendation to Colonel Fury that the X-Men deal with Magneto on their own from then on. Fury had leveled Steve with a knowing look but agreed with a tone that suggested he’d had a very loud conversation with Charles Xavier already.

They hardly have any down time for the next month. What little they do seems to be occupied with stolen moments in the workshop- slow, leisurely kissing like they’re half-asleep. Steve can’t deny that he’s interested in Toni not just emotionally, but as a man, as well. His hands drift from her face to her waist, inching up her rib cage or down to palm along the curve of a hip. Steve doesn’t mind waiting for a sign, although he’s not sure exactly what that'll be.

He doesn’t even see Toni’s apartment at Stark Tower until, on a surprisingly quiet day, Colonel Fury sends him over because she’s not returning the director’s calls.

He tells Steve to “light a fire under Stark's ass about that fucking helicarrier, she’s under goddamn government contract,” which Steve is planning on phrasing more politely. When he arrives at Stark Tower, he fully intends on calling up, but apparently Toni has instructed that in event of Steve, he is to be sent directly up, no questions asked.

The elevator opens straight into the living room of the penthouse and Steve glances around but sees no sign of Toni. He’s about to ask Jarvis where Toni is when she comes stumbling around the corner from the long hallway. She’s sleepily murmuring, “Steve?” as she rubs at her eyes.

But what Steve can’t stop staring at are her long bare legs, coming up to a blue button down shirt that Steve has been missing for over a week. When she takes another step, Steve can see a hint of black lace peeking out under the hem.

“Hey, what’s up, is something going on-“ Toni doesn’t get anything else out because Steve is busy grabbing her close and kissing her harder than he ever has. After a fraction of a second, Toni is kissing back, open and wet, frantic and perfect. It seems to stretch on impossibly long, finally broken by the burning need for air.

“Um, hi,” Toni gasps.

Steve can feel his face flushing. “I’m sorry, that was rude, I should have-“ Steve mumbles.

Toni stares at him hard. “You’re being purposefully obtuse at this point,” Toni says. “Come here.” She shoves at him until he realizes she wants him to sit on the low arm of the sofa and he obliges.

“Is this where you want me?” Steve asks her. Toni steps right in front of him, sleep warm but wide awake. It also happens to give him a pretty good view of her breasts, close enough for Steve to rest his cheek against.

“No,” Toni says slowly, her eyes dark and intense. “I want you here.” She puts a hand against his chest, leaning Steve backwards until his back is against the cushions. Toni brings her knees up to the sofa arm, straddling Steve’s lap.

“Right here,” Toni’s voice is rougher than usual. She leans over to kiss him, humming appreciatively when Steve’s hands instinctively migrate to her hips, holding her in place. The slick, hot slide of Toni’s tongue against his isn’t new but the breathless arousal that comes with it is just like the first time.

“You can’t kiss a girl like that and not put out,” Toni tells him. She shamelessly takes advantage of the tender spot below the hinge of his jaw. Steve groans involuntarily. “So either you ante up or you’ll have to excuse me for awhile,” she whispers right into the skin of his neck.

Steve pauses for a second, thinking about being respectful and making choices you can live with the rest of your life.

“I’d better put my money where my mouth is, then.” Steve has never been terribly smooth or glib, but Toni seems to get what he means because he thinks the filthy grind of her hips against his is approval. Steve chokes back an embarrassing noise.

“I have to tell you though,” Steve manages, even though Toni’s hands are snaking around to the buttons of her own shirt already. “I don’t have uh, any… hands on experience here.” Back when Steve had been able to get drunk, he had, in a moment of insanity and desperate curiosity, asked Bucky what it was like to be with a woman. After Buck had finished sputtering through his drink, he’d sketched out a loose picture of his first time- fumbling for her brassiere, slipping his hand under her skirt, and nearly breaking the rubber. Steve had held a hand over his open mouth and wondered if “god would ever smile on you, Rogers, and let you put your hand in a dame’s panties.” He hadn’t really expected it would take 70 years, though.

Toni whimpers quietly. “Oh god,” she mutters. “This is like- you are just the shiniest, newest toy, right out of the box, just for me.”

“That’s good?” Steve asks, a little hesitantly.

Toni kisses him, sweet and a little dirty, which is essentially reassuring. “It’s probably really juvenile, actually. But I’ll be honest, I really like the idea that no one has ever touched you like this,” She barely brushes her hand over the front of his pants and Steve sucks in a breath through his teeth. “Just me.”

“Just you,” Steve agrees. Toni kisses him again, a gentle scrape of teeth over his lower lip as she leans back, sitting across his hips.

“You know, you can touch me,” she tells him. “Anywhere you want. You don’t have to wait for permission.” It takes Steve aback for a moment, because he wants to touch her everywhere. He finally decides to let his hands wander up the lean stretch of her stomach, feeling the slight raised skin of scars and as his fingertips move higher, the bump of a broken rib healed badly. The edge of the shirt drifts up with his hands, revealing the black lace panties he’d barely seen earlier. Steve’s hands reach the undersides of her breasts and before he can make a decision about what to do next, Toni is grasping the shoulders of the shirt and pulling it off in one long, sensuous whisper of fabric.

Steve has seen countless nudes in art galleries and even done studies of his own in art school. The human form is no mystery to him, but this is so incredibly different he can’t begin to describe it. It’s not just that he gets to touch, but he gets to touch Toni and that means everything.

“Toni, I want to make you feel good, but you’ve got to help me out here. I need you to tell me what you want.” Steve says. He hardly recognizes his own voice; it’s almost scratchy and inaudible with how deep it’s fallen.

Toni’s eyes flutter shut for a second. “All right, come on, I’m not going to take you on a couch, someone will kill me,” Toni is standing almost immediately, even if she wobbles for a moment. She draws him though the penthouse, completely at ease in just an unbelievably brief scrap of black lace and nothing else.

Her bedroom is entirely dominated by the enormous bed, covered in tousled wine colored sheets.

“I’ve also been _dying_ to see what’s under here, so be patient with me for a second.” Toni works open the buttons of his shirt quickly before loosening his belt buckle. The shirt is unceremoniously shoved down his shoulders and his t-shirt is pulled up over his head in a flash. She’s kissing him and undoing his fly as she drags him toward the bed, Steve nearly stumbling as he steps out of his pants. Her breasts are pressed against his bare chest, the gentle hum of the arc reactor vibrating between them.

“God, you feel good,” she groans, her hands dipping beneath his boxers to squeeze his rear.

“You feel better,” Steve says, because they’ve barely done anything- well, by today’s standards, apparently- and already he doesn’t think he’s going to want to get out of bed any time soon. Their legs hit the edge of the bed and they topple over in a pile of pleasantly entangled limbs. Steve takes Toni at her word and reaches out to cup her breast in his hand, enjoying the weight, the perfect noise she makes when his thumb rubs across her nipple.

“Okay, yes, that, yes,” Toni gasps out. “Fuck, I’m so wet.” Steve’s thigh slips between Toni’s as they shift and he can feel what she means, the little bit of lace between her legs doing nothing to disguise it. She’s responsive under his hands in a way that makes Steve feel like he’s five degrees too hot. He gives himself free license to explore with his hands, his mouth- the peaks and valley of her collarbones, the edge of her ribcage, the unbearably delicate skin at the junction of her hip. She catches her thumb on the edge of her panties, squirming out of them.

“Steve, Steve,” Toni sounds like she’s on the verge of begging. “I’m clean, you’re clean, I’m on the pill, I just, I need you right now.” Her hand is slipping between them, grasping around Steve and guiding him toward her entrance.

Steve bites down on a yell, because nothing prepared him for this, tight wet heat and Toni clutching at his shoulders, urging him closer. “God, Toni,” Steve can’t help but swear, low, under his breath.

She laughs, half-sobbing through it. “C’mon, you know what to do,” she teases, rolling her hips up against his in a sinuous roll that makes Steve swear again, his hips nudging forward in response. He falls into a rhythm, Toni arching to meet him, dragging him forward to kiss, long and slow. He can feel his orgasm building, low in his stomach, but he wants Toni to fall over that edge first.

“What can I, Toni-“ he starts, but she just grabs his hand and presses it against her, slipping over the pink folds.

“Right- ah- right there, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” The last fuck is a drawn out whine, Toni’s hands scrabbling against the sheets as she clenches around him and Steve can’t help but lose himself in her pleasure.

He feels like he’s drifting back into his body from a great height, half slumped over onto Toni. Steve knows he should move- he’s probably crushing her- but he can’t move anything. They just breathe against each other, sweat-slick and spent. After what seems like forever, Steve manages to roll just far away enough that he won’t smother Toni but he can still feel her all along his side.

Toni eventually stretches, making a series of extremely pleased noises that make Steve’s skin tingle.

“Okay?” she asks him.

“Okay?” he echoes back, surprised, turning to look at Toni. “More like wow.” She looks incredibly smug as she leans over to kiss him. Which reminds Steve of what they could be doing.

“Um, can we do that again?” Steve asks hopefully. Toni stares at him for a second.

“Fuck yes,” she says, rolling on top of him.

They don’t make it out of the bedroom for another four hours. When they finally take a break to eat everything in Toni’s refrigerator, she checks her phone with a grimace.

“Do you know why I have like, eight messages from Fury?” she asks and Steve just bursts into laughter.

















Epilogue:

“You know, when I said you could move in, I didn’t say you could bring your kids,” Toni says, watching Clint run up the stairs.

“Package deal, sorry,” Steve says, kissing the top of her head as he carries a pair of boxes labeled “Miscellaneous Bruce- DO NOT OPEN CLINT.”

“Why are there winged nude infants all over these chambers?” Thor bellows from a few rooms away.

“Ugh, I mean to paint over that rococo monstrosity. Maybe a flamethrower.” Toni mutters.

“I like them,” Steve counters. When Toni had let him wander around the mansion, he’d been awestruck by the airy, sky-lit ceilings and the strange set of pastoral rooms.

“You’re awful,” she tells him, but it’s ruined by how she leans around the boxes to kiss him. “Put those in the east gallery, it’s the only room really big enough to handle Bruce when he hulks out.”

Steve walks past Natasha just standing in the indoor courtyard, helplessly laughing at the fountain. He can hear thumping above him- doubtlessly Clint already moving furniture and Thor asking if they can have stables. The house is alive with noise.

Steve thinks “Avengers Mansion” has a nice ring to it.