Work Text:
The proposal is the sweetest, most offhand thing. A simple, “You know same sex marriage it legal in New York, right?” from Steve in the dead of night and a quick, tired, “Yeah, I’ve heard the news,” from Tony. Steve stares at him, fidgeting a little, like they haven’t been together for almost three years and they’ve practically been married since Steve snatched him out of Stane’s clutches by sheer stubbornness alone just as long ago.
They had lain there, in bed, with Tony’s arc reactor glowing between them in the middle of the night after a long fight with Dr. Doom and a lot of press conferences orchestrated by Pepper, because the woman is crazy and feels the need to get some semblance of control over things before New York spins into frenzy. Tony is tired, but he keeps his eyes open long enough to ask, “So, are we like…doing a summer wedding or something, ‘cause I have to tell you: I’m so not a fan of winter.”
He sees Steve smile as his last coherent thought before drifting off.
In the morning, Tony has a ring on his finger, simple titanium from the feel of it, and he grins at it a little before going off in search of his new fiancé.
And that’s the proposal.
IMCA
They both agree to hire a wedding planner, which turns out to be the funniest thing ever in Tony’s opinion. Try having a random planner over to Avenger’s mansion and showing champagne flutes to half of SHIELD. Really. It’ll be worth your time.
Everyone is present for the first meeting with this woman, who he thinks is names Melody, but he’s not sure, from the Avengers to half of their significant others, to Darcy, Rhodey, Happy, Target and strangely, Director Fury. It’s a miracle they didn’t send this woman away in tears, because all of them have input and they are very vocal, violent, and voracious. It’s been agreed that no ‘hero-colors’ will be present at the wedding which leaves startlingly few choices. Orange and yellow are so out of the picture.
Steve at one point asks why it can’t be just black and white, like normal, and actually the one who takes offence to that notion is Fury, who says in no uncertain terms, “I am not going to sit through a fucking daze of zebra print because you were stupid enough to ask Stark to be the future motherfucking Mrs. Rogers! I don’t care if you have to dress in pink! There is going to be some god damn color somewhere!”
Bruce randomly decides on turquoise for all of them, because it’s technically not anyone’s color and it matches Steve’s eyes. Tony has to say, “Thank you,” to him after the tuxedo fitting.
The rest of the planning kind of goes downhill from that point and Tony eventually decides to let his friends deal with it, because apparently they will get nowhere fast otherwise. Thor throws himself into it, kidnapping Pepper and Bruce, who oddly has such a taste for color-schemes it’s mind-boggling, and they just take care of the rest.
The only thing Tony and Steve have to deal with for the rest of the time is invitations and deciding on the cake, which even those get taken over by Natasha and Clint. Natasha gets the invitations in order like a freaking ninja rolodex and Clint goes cake ‘shopping.’ Tony knows he just wants to eat all the cake samples.
Fury gets them their marriage licenses and shoves it under their bedroom door like it’s some top secret mission. It’s even in a plain brown envelope marked for ‘The Rogers’,’ and Tony starts making cracks about being Mr. and Mrs. Smith with way better storyline. Steve laughs at him, but still runs his fingers along the paper reverently with a bit irritation caught in his eyes.
Coulson is officiating and promises that any misbehavior on Tony’s part will have him paralyzed at his own wedding. He’s a bit edgier ever since Supernanny was taken off the air. He’s gone from tazing to more serious threats and Tony is almost ready to fund eternal seasons until Coulson is in a grave.
IMCA
It’s about a month until the wedding day, thankfully in summer, and Steve is lounging on Tony’s couch in his shop. Tony’s working on upgrades for the Quinjet, War Machine, and Iron Man all at the same time and he’s pretty sure Steve is drawing or perhaps tinkering away at the classic Harley they’d bought about two years ago, but he can’t be sure as he mutters sweet nothings to JARVIS as encouragement to do exactly as he’s asked.
Target is under one of the tables, but he’s learned long since he was a puppy not to make too much of a ruckus and go to sleep.
It’s been like this for almost two hours when Tony’s concentration is sweetly broken by Steve clearing his throat. He tells JARVIS, “Hold that thought, will ya?” to which, there is the automatic sarcastic response, “I hold all your thoughts, sir.”
He turns around and Steve is looking at him with that bashful, troubled sort of expression he can pull off perfectly. He has his lower lip trapped between his teeth hypnotically as he stares at the pad of paper on his lap. There’s a long moment between when he clears his throat and when he speaks, which sometimes is par for the course. Tony learns to wait out his silences just as Steve does with his.
Finally, he says, quite obviously, “They keep calling us the Rogers’.”
Tony shrugs, not really sure what the point is. “We’re getting married. It was bound to happen.”
Steve taps the pen irritably against his sketch pad. “Why don’t they call us the Starks?”
He huffs a quiet little depreciative laugh. “You’re Captain Steven Rogers,” he says because really in his mind its answer enough. There’s just something about the man; he just makes that name. And Tony has always been folded into that name for the team. Always. Ever since his rescue.
Steve scowls for some reason and says, “I want to be Captain Steven Stark.”
Tony feels the air leave his body at that simple statement, has to swallow a few times. He’s never ever imagined something like this. Not once. He feels the fragmented pieces of his heart trying to grow in his chest and around the reactor, which is a strange and weirdly tickly feeling. Finally he clears his throat and says, “I’m sorry. I was off in my own little world. What did you say?”
Steve smiles, like he can read Tony’s mind. “I said: I want to be Captain Steven Stark…if you’ll let me.”
Making love to Steve that night is possibly the best they’ve ever done as he whispers, “Captain Stark,” in Steve’s ear, and listens to the way it never sounds old. Okay, so they scar Target a little bit, but the dog is used covering his floppy ears.
IMCA
The wedding is held on the large patio roof at Avengers Mansion. So many reporters are at the gate and a few news choppers circle around. There are well-wishers and wedding crashers left and right. Probably a few people with less than noble intentions, but they don’t dwell on that too much despite the fact that he’d seen both Natasha and strangely enough Ms. Potts with weapons strapped to their thighs. It’s pretty hectic and Steve says that he’s pretty sure Fury is using half of SHIELD’s agents to keep the crowd mostly at bay.
Tony is in one of the many spare rooms putting on his tux with Rhodey there to ‘help’ even though Tony has been putting on tuxedos since he was old enough to walk. He’s in his military dress uniform, dressed to the nines as he is in most events. Tony sometimes has trouble remembering what Rhodey looks like outside of any army uniform.
He’s slipping the turquoise cufflinks, shaped like the arc reactor, thank you, Pepper, into place when Rhodey says from behind him, “Your tie is crooked.”
It’s not but he still lets Rhodey spin him around and straighten it for him. Tony regards him briefly as he does so, his oldest friend, and only thing he would probably ever regard to him as a brother…well other than Thor but he is apparently everyone’s brother. Rhodey looks at the tie like it holds all the answers; looks, oh god, he looks like he might cry.
Tony is very unsure what to do here. So he does what he always does. “Those aren’t like, tears of unrequited love, right? Because you had so many chances and you always said…”
Rhodey glares at him and says with a barely leashed growl, “Don’t make me strangle you on your wedding day, Tony.” His hands are still at Tony’s tie so it’s possible that he might. They stand in silence and Rhodey fusses at him in that way he’s done since Tony ‘came back from the grave,’ as Vanity Fair had phrased it. Finally he says, “You know, man, I didn’t think this would ever happen to you.”
“Comforting,” Tony returns quickly, looking at the wall behind him.
“I’m serious, Tony. This is the proudest moment I’ve ever had in our friendship. I want you to know that,” he says and he stares at Tony, forces them to make eye-contact. When Tony finally does, he continues. “You deserve him, Tony, more than you will ever realize and I’m proud to be here as your best man.”
He feels a smile on his face and snatches the man into a quick hug, clapping him on the back as he says, “Thank you.”
The door opens as they step apart and the first thing either of them see is a monstrously huge dog head peek around the door, ridiculously smart eyes taking in the room before the door is further pushed open and Thor follows his example in peeking. His grin is blinding as he sees Tony and Rhodey, as he finally managed to stop glaring at Rhodey around the year and a half mark.
Both he and Target come in, Target looking like he desperately wants to jump up on Tony, but he knows better. When anyone is in a suit or tux all four paws stay on the ground. Tony takes pity on him and pets his head. He kind of likes the dog.
“My great Anthony,” Thor booms as he enters in his own tux. It had been hell to fit him or even get him to agree to wear anything like that, but the planner, May, he thinks, had been adamant and now he stands in black and turquoise and looks damn good for it. “Let me wish you many a great blessing on this your day of betrothal!”
Tony laughs even as he’s taken in a near bone-crushing hug. “Thanks, big guy,” he wheezes as he’s swept off the ground. Target yips and does little half-jumps around them. When he’s on solid ground again and a little woozy from sudden oxygen intake, he manages to ask, “Did you see Steve?”
Thor laughs. “Our wondrous Steve is going through jitter-repelling exercises with good Clint!”
Tony can only imagine what that means and it isn’t anything good. Knowing Clint they’re probably doing face stretches and catwalks or something. The man’s just insane enough to do something like that. It’s really actually terrifying on spot.
Natasha comes in, knee-length black dress fitting her gorgeously with a turquoise sash around her slim waist. “Five minutes, guys. Tony, Steve’s already at the roof. Don’t make him more nervous than he already is.” Her words are made less sharp by the small, happy smile she wears.
IMCA
Tony meets Steve at the doorway to the roof where all of the Avengers and best men are and he can’t help the small grin when he sees his fiancé dressed in a tux. They had almost gone with his army dress uniform, but Steve had liked the idea of a tux, don’t ask Tony why.
His smile grows when their eyes meet. “How are you doing?”
Steve looks torn between glee and horror. His bright eyes bore into Tony’s as he says, “There are helicopters outside, Tony. There are going to be news reporters filming us live from the sky!”
Tony takes his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry about it. They have to clear off in two minutes. Apparently the government doesn’t want to take the chance of a sniper on the chopper taking out all the heroes at one wedding.”
He glances to his right and Tony isn’t surprised to see Steve’s shield resting against the doorway. He isn’t surprised because Pepper has stowed his suitcase armor under the DJ table and the rest of the Avengers have their weapons hidden in interesting places around the roof.
He smiles when Steve looks back almost guiltily. “I take it Clint’s jitter-repelling didn’t do much good?”
He glances back at the archer over his shoulder as he says, “It was going pretty well until we got to the plushy rehearsal.” Tony has to bite back a snort of disbelief. Really? Plushy rehearsal? Where did Clint come up with this shit? But he doesn’t have time to ask, because Steve is looking at him again, asking, “What about you? You seem pretty calm.”
Tony shrugs; looks over Steve shoulder in an attempt for nonchalance as he says, “Yeah, well. I’m…its pretty much all a façade. My heart is beating so fast I’m surprised the arc reactor hasn’t jumped out of my chest to escape from powering something so erratic. But I’m ready to marry you, Steve,” he says, making eye contact and reaching out to thread their fingers together.
Pepper comes in just a few seconds later, black suit complete with turquoise button-up and stilettos making her absolutely stunning, and tells them to get ready; the music is about to start.
They get into the formation decided by the planner, Margot. Pepper leans out the door one more time and signals the music before grabbing Bruce’s arm and marching them both down the aisle. Bruce looks very uncomfortable in his tux, but in that complete, ‘I’m a superhero. I can do this,” way he has. Clint and Natasha go next, followed shortly by Rhodey and Thor, who is Steve’s best man.
Steve pauses just long enough to grab Tony’s hand with a gentle squeeze, saying, “I’m ready to marry you too.”
When they step out in to the afternoon sun, they see the two hundred guests Natasha had made sure to invite. Many are superheroes and mutants that they’re both close to. Tony sees Professor X in his chair at the front, him being very fond of Steve, and Target is next to him with his head on his blanket. Some are Tony’s business friends, such as Kirk, McCoy and Pike. A few more are civilians they’re good friends with, and that Steve works with for several charities. Fury is sitting front row, looking ominously into the sky like he dares a helicopter to come back, and exuding the fact he won’t be held responsible for his actions.
Coulson waits for them, looking passive, save for a small amused smile on his lips. He’s dressed in his normal suit and he has nothing in his hands, which are linked in front of him.
They get to the front of the aisle, standing in front of Coulson and Steve says very quietly, “Whew. Least we got the walk out of the way.”
Tony tries not to laugh, but can’t resist the smile as he says back, “Don’t make me laugh. Coulson has promised bodily harm if I mess up his speech of awesomeness.”
Coulson says through barely moving lips, “That’s right, Mr. Stark,” to which Steve replies, still quiet, “You know that’ll be both of us soon.” Coulson doesn’t deign to give that a retort before he jumps into the standard, “Ladies, gentlemen, mutants, heroes, friends…We are gathered here today…”
Tony listens to it all and repeats in the proper places with a smile that eats his face. They do traditional vows, because it’s really kind of difficult to create proper vows when you’re battling bad guys every other day. He’s surprised a super-villain hasn’t popped up to spoil their fun. It happened at the Richards' wedding.
But everything goes smoothly and Coulson finally says, “If the best men would hand over the rings?”
Rhodey is immediately on hand with Steve’s ring, but Thor gives a briefly panicked look as he goes through his pockets. They watch him with a sort of amusement because really if this is going to be the big chaos of the wedding, well, it could have gone much worse. It’s shortly averted when Jane foster pipes up from her seat, “Vest pocket, Thor.”
He shoots her a grateful smile, which she gives back and the crowd chuckles as he reaches his huge fingers into his vest and produces the ring for Steve.
Steve slips Tony’s ring over his knuckle, presses a brief kiss to it while his cheeks bloom red and Tony’s smiles largely as he takes Steve’s hand and presses his own on. Then without waiting for Coulson to say anything, he dips Steve back and presses their lips together. In the future, he will forever claim that Steve’s blush was to blame and that he couldn’t be held responsible.
Whoops and cheers rise up around them, catcalls and whistles trill in the air, and some confetti is thrown over them, not that they notice. All that matters to either of them is each other, and the way their rings feel when they slide over skin.
When they pull apart, they turn back to Coulson, who actually looks genuinely amused as he says, “And, unless there’s another great spectacle to be witnessed,” he pauses, and actually looks over the crowd, before looking back at them. “I present to you Captain Steven and Mr. Anthony Stark!”
The crowd erupts into cheers and the wedding party breaks everything the planner, Melissa, that had to be it, told them to do and swoops down on them, pressing congratulatory claps to their backs, hugging, kissing their cheeks. Pepper looks like she’s trying not to cry as she pulls them both into a hug that does actually run the possibility of breaking both of them in half as she says, “I’m so happy for you both!”
They hug and shake hands and finally break away from their team to walk back down the aisle, hand in hand, as their guests and friends throw confetti at them. They briefly hear Director Fury announce that the reception will be held downstairs in the ball room before the door closes behind them and they slip off into a secluded room. They face each other, both wearing dopey grins.
Steve reaches up to run his hand through Tony’s hair, saying through his laughter as reflective pieces fall onto his shoulder, “You have confetti all over you, Mr. Stark.”
Tony reciprocates the action. “You’re one to talk, Captain Stark. You look like a confetti factory exploded with you in the middle.” His smile goes down a little, but is no less exuberant as he says honestly, “We wouldn’t be here without you, Cap.”
He ducks his head. “You either. I may have taken you away from that cell, but you came up with the cure to the palladium poisoning.”
“I could argue that too, but let’s save our first fight as a married couple for something a little more exciting,” Tony says with a lecherous grin and Steve laughs, high on happiness as he leans in to kiss him, wholly and soundly, his arms circling Tony’s ribs and holding them together.
He moves into the kiss, his lips parting as Steve seeks entrance. Their tongues stroke against each other and Tony moves even closer. One arm wraps around his broad shoulder and the other hand carting through blond hair he loves so much. He can’t help giving it a tug, knowing the reaction it will garner, but smiling anyway when Steve moans and pulls him even tighter.
Steve’s hand starts moving down, only reaching the small of his back when the door is pulled open. They break apart with a jolt, not having expected an interruption, but when they do, they see Darcy in the doorway, looking at them with smug eyes as she says, “I know you two have sex like every night. You can wait until after the reception.”
Steve blushes, but Tony asks, “And how do you know that, Darcy?”
Steve groans, like that question physically hurts him and demands, “Do not answer that!”
She laughs her happy, obnoxious laugh. “Come on. Operation: Stark Wedding Reception is a go!” She makes an arm-waving motion and herds them out of their nice quiet room and follows them all the way to the ball room as if making sure they won’t jump into the next available closet and start humping like rabbits. The idea does have a certain appeal, but Tony knows their actions would have consequences.
IMCA
When they enter, there’s another hale of cheers led by Darcy and Thor and the DJ announces, “And here are the Starks just in time to cut the cake!”
The planner, Tony always forgets her name despite Steve telling him every other hour, Marcy, maybe? Anyway, she leads them over to the cake that Clint had picked out and Steve had approved of where gleaming utensils are set on a black cloth waiting for use. She hovers around and instructs them what to do, despite the fact that they are only cutting a cake.
They hold hands over the knife and pause for the photographer before slicing into the red velvet cake decorated in black and detailed in elegant turquoise and silver. Tony takes a small piece first and guides it into Steve’s mouth, politely not smearing icing all over his face. Something that Steve does not reciprocate as he presses the cake all over him.
Steve then leans in for a kiss, despite Tony muttering, “You are a dick, Cap. Under all that American wholesomeness, you are a dick!” Most of it is muffled as his mouth is otherwise preoccupied.
When they pull apart, Steve has red, black, and silver around his lips and he smiles with feigned apology as he reaches for a napkin to clean them both up.
Next, Mallory? He’ll go with Mallory. Next Mallory says is their first drink as a married couple. It’s champagne and Tony hides a grimace at it. He hasn’t had a drink since before Stane kept him prisoner, except to realize that he really doesn’t like drinking anymore. It all reminds him of worse times, times when he didn’t like his life, and when he was out of control and he didn’t have Steve. He would rather stay away from it all together.
Steve gives him a knowing look and whispers, “I switched this bottle with sparkling grape juice.”
Tony smiles as they wrap their arms like, Macy (?) tells them to and whispers back a small, “Thank you,” before they manage to take a sip of their drink from the glass.
They get a few minutes reprieve from Maddie and wander around the room to talk to their guests. They thank a few of the X-Men for coming and Professor Xavier wraps them in a conversation about the latest movements to have mutants recognized as normal citizens of the world. Steve finds it all fascinating and Tony does too, don’t get him wrong, but he can’t get into it the same way Steve does despite the fact that Super-Human Registration Acts still rattle around in congress and he knows he should take a more active role in both.
He will too, just not at his wedding.
He spots Happy talking with Kirk and McCoy and breaks away from Steve after a moment with a quick squeeze of his arm. He’s met with a loud greeting from Kirk. “Tony, you lucky bastard! How does it feel?”
Beside him McCoy rolls his eyes and says gruffly, “Like all of his freedom has gone down the drain.”
Tony smiles indulgently, knows McCoy isn’t exactly a poster boy for happy marriages. And he’s very loud about his stance on matrimony, despite technically being married to Kirk for something like ten years. Maybe five, Tony is never sure. They’ve been attached at the hip since they met, basically.
“Don’t listen to him, boss,” Happy says, with a smile on his face. He takes Tony’s hand and shakes it firmly. “Congratulations. You two are gonna be very happy. And if not, I know a few guys.”
Kirk laughs and even McCoy cracks a smile, but Pepper, who’s just come over says, “No you don’t, Happy. Don’t joke about things like that in a room full of superhumans.”
Happy shrugs. “I’m just putting it out there.”
“Not on his wedding day,” Kirk finally musters. “It’s a happy day. Bones, don’t say anything,” he adds quickly when McCoy looks like he might say something. “Really, we wish you both the best.”
Pepper nods with a glowing smile, “We all do, but they’re about to call first dance.”
Tony nods and heads for Steve. The DJ seems to be keeping tabs on them like a hawk, because just as Tony reaches Steve he says, “And now if our newlyweds would head to the dance floor for the first dance…”
Steve actually looks like he may bolt. He’s known this was coming, but it doesn’t help him not liking to be the center of attention. Tony takes his hand and takes him out to the middle of the floor just as the first strings echo across the air. He lets Steve lead, because he trips less when he’s leading, and that’s been experimentally proven.
They move with the melody in an adapted waltz. He’s not a fan of the song, though he knows the words by heart. Pepper had coordinated with Marge to make up the wedding soundtrack so that they wouldn’t be stuck with the ‘atrocities’ Tony listens to or bored to death by the forties music, which Steve had taken great offence to.
Tony moves in close, presses a kiss to Steve’s cheek as he begins singing along with the music, just as the chorus comes on again, “I don’t wanna close my eyes. I don’t wanna fall asleep, ‘cause I’d miss you, babe, and I don’t wanna miss a thing. Cause even when I dream of you, the sweetest dream will never do. I still miss you, babe, and I don’t wanna miss a thing.”
And maybe he doesn’t like this song normally because it strikes a bit too close to home when it comes to him and Steve who spent the first few months of their relationship talking through computers, but right now it’s kind of perfect and he loves singing it to Steve. He loves feeling the heat grow beneath his lips as he blushes and the smile that grows against his skin. He loves as Steve holds him tighter and presses a kiss to his hairline.
He loves Steve. He has since they met.
The next song comes on, something by Michael fucking Buble…joy. They’re joined on the dance floor by Pepper and Natasha, though Natasha looks just as thrilled with the song as he does. Kirk and McCoy join too, as well as Rhodey and, Tony has to laugh, Darcy. Darcy looks to be enjoying harassing the man, because she has an evil grin and he looks a bit terrified. Jane and Betty take their men out to dance. Thor picks Jane up and holds her to his chest so her feet kind of sway with them, and Bruce looks massively uncomfortable as Betty guides him.
Even a few X-Men come out to dance. Rogue takes Gambit out to the floor first. And then Jean Grey takes the myopic wonder. Sue and Dick, so called by Tony because he is a dick, Richards come out next. Johnny brings his date out to the floor, but Ben kicks back with his lady friend on his lap.
It’s kind of fun and as the songs change and the floor fills up; certain couples will swing by for a quick chat with them. Darcy apparently gives up on torturing Rhodey and now guides Target around the dance floor on his hind legs and it’s almost sad to see that the dog dances better than Bruce.
Coulson drags Clint out for one song and then they both return to doing whatever it is a taze-happy man and arrow-shooting freak do when they aren’t socializing.
Tony’s honestly having a blast.
IMCA
They have pictures and more pictures and pictures of pictures it feels like before Tony and Steve are allowed to escape to the car. Despite the fact that the wedding had been a lot of fun, he’s ready to escape and definitely ready for the week honeymoon in Aruba.
The entire crowd follows them out and Target trots along beside them with his big tongue lolling about. Happy waits for them with a smile on his face and opens the backseat door, shaking both their hands. Unfortunately, while they’re distracted Target hops in the back seat and plops his enormous, furry butt next to the window on the opposite side.
“Target, out boy,” Tony says as Steve gets harangued into a conversation with Fury that goes a lot like this:
“I don’t want to see your ugly mugs here ‘til next Saturday.”
“We won’t be unless…”
“Unless I fuckin’ call you! Do you know the amount of god damn paperwork I have to do if my agents show up on their vacation? You stay your happy asses in Aruba. We’ll handle whatever happens.”
Fury’s way of wishing them a good time. It’d be something approaching sweet if there weren’t a hundred pound dog happily thumping his disastrous tail in his car. Tony glares at him, even as he fights to say ‘fuck it!’ and let the dog go with them. “I know you understand me, mutt. Out!”
That only causes him to lie down with his huge head on his paws and give him the patented puppy look.
Steve turns to look into the car and smiles. “Target!” he coos, totally ruining Tony’s effort. “You wanna go with us?”
“Dogs aren’t allowed on the jet, Steve.”
“It’s your jet. He can go if you say he can,” he returns quickly.
Tony glares. “And I say he can’t. I don’t want to be walking a wooly mammoth on our honeymoon.”
Target actually whines when he’s called a mammoth and covers his ears with his paws. Worse, Tony actually feels bad.
Tony sighs. “What if he gets lost?”
His protest is met with a droll look as Steve says, “Tony, you made a tracking device with K-9 went around stealing all the dogs in Manhattan. Remember, Clint gave you grief about it to a week?”
“Because Clint’s an asshat,” Tony grumbles under his breath. Then he looks at Target again, feels his resolve crumbling. “Target, go get Thor!”
If it’s possible for dogs to smile gleefully, Target is as he shoots off into the crowd barking the entire way until he finds his owner, or his actual owner. Tony shakes his head. “One day we’ll get home from a mission and that damn dog will be doing quantum physics with his tail. I shit you, not.”
Steve shrugs. “We’ve seen weirder things.”
Target finally leads Thor out of the crowd with Jane’s small hand in his own gigantic one. They both look amused, like they know what’s going on, which they probably do. Tony would not at all be surprised if Thor spoke dog language and taught it to Jane and Darcy. It’s only made apparent when Target once more hops in the back seat and settles himself in happily.
“What’s going on, guys?” Jane asks with a poorly smothered grin.
Tony jerks his thumb back towards the car. “Dog wants to go with us.”
Thor laughs. “Verily, he shall keep you safe on your trip to the moon of honey!” Steve and Tony have had long conversations of if Thor actually speaks this way for fun or not, but right now, Tony so believes he does. “He shall keep a weather eye out for mischief while you consummate your union!”
Somehow, Clint overhears this and says, “I think they’ve got that part covered.” He hears Happy snickering quietly next to them.
Tony snorts. “Right, okay. Now that that’s settled…we’re going to go. See you next Saturday, big guy.” He gives a brief wave, but Thor stops that puny attempt at parting gestures.
He grabs both Tony and Steve up in a great hug with a loud, “Good speed on this your day of betrothal. I shall eagerly await your return!” He, then, all but settles them into the car and makes sure they’re cozy before slamming the door behind them with one final pat on Target’s head.
Tony glares at him. “You are a menace,” he says flatly, but somehow his hand reaches over to run down his spine. Steve just chuckles as Happy gets in the car.
He meets his driver’s gaze through the rearview mirror as he says, “You’re getting’ soft, boss.”
“Happy, you’re fired.” His threat is met with laughter.
Happy drives them to Tony’s private jet for their honeymoon while Steve and Tony make idle conversation and play with the rings on each other’s hands like sappy teenagers and there may have been necking, groping and other such activities but Tony has just a bit of a problem with frottage in front of such a young dog. There may also have been teasing to Tony wanting to preserve Target’s innocence.
IMCA
The Newly Wedded Starks board private jet for honeymoon in undisclosed exotic locales! Get the juicy details!
Tony looks over the headline with no small amount of distaste. It’s about the fourth one he’s read this morning and the promotional lines just get worse and worse. He thought journalism was about artistic license. Apparently it’s artistic license for the artistically challenged. He puts his tablet on the side table next to his bed.
He’s hardly moved from it for the last twenty-four hours, only moving for showers, food, and taking Target out for a walk when it’s his turn. Other than that, he and Steve have been idle in this condo room, being as loud as they want and playing all sorts of games that involve no clothing and close contact. It’s a phenomenal start to honeymoon.
It’d be better if Steve was still in bed, but he’d gone out for a morning job with Target.
How? Tony will never be sure. Most of their night was spent making love on every surface of the room available. He’s jelly in the bed and it takes a lot of energy to even think of moving to the kitchen for something to eat.
He finally does, though, convince himself to get out of bed that is. He ambles out completely naked and stops when he finds Steve on the living room couch watching television with Target. And yes, Target is actually watching the television as well.
“When did you get back?” Tony asks curiously. He hadn’t heard them come in and part of him had been expecting Steve to come back to bed after his jog.
Steve looks up, pauses as he takes in Tony’s completely nude form, his eyes glazing just a little as he said, “About twenty minutes ago. I wasn’t sure if you’d still be asleep…” he trails off as he reaches his arm out, beckoning Tony closer to him.
He goes without hesitance, only stopping when he realizes what they’re watching. “Oh, no! Steve, don’t get that dog addicted to soccer again. Remember how he was at the end of last season?”
“It’s just one game, Tony,” Steve says distractedly as his hand finally makes contact with the back of Tony’s thigh, dragging him closer and onto his lap. Tony goes without resistance, still looking over his shoulder at the TV screen dubiously, and noticing that Target follows the ball with his entire head. Steve’s hand travels up his thigh, over his hip, and Target’s soccer addiction is forgotten quickly as he shimmies closer.
He turns his attention back on Steve, his new husband, who’s in a thin blue tee and sweatpants. He’s obviously taken a shower between his run and the soccer game, because he smells like that rosemary shampoo he loves and his hair is wet, and not just damp. Tony smiles as he puts his arms on the back of couch, rolls his hips and listens to choked sound Steve emits; feels the beginnings of arousal beneath him.
“How was your morning jog, Captain Stark?” he asks cheekily, like his ass isn’t still rubbing against Steve’s clothed arousal.
He looks up at him trough his long dusty lashes and smiles devilishly, a very good look for him. Taking Tony’s hips firmly, he flips them over with Tony pressed into the couch cushions and himself still insinuated between Tony’s thighs, thrusting softly against him. Tony can in no way be blamed for the satisfied groan that escapes his lips.
“It’s nowhere near as good as christening this couch will be, Mr. Stark.”
Tony smiles as Steve brings his lips over the arc reactor, runs his hands through his hair and has just enough of himself to say, “Target! Go watch TV in the bedroom!” before his attention is firmly on divesting Steve of his clothing for the rest of the day.