~Nicknames~

Tony X Steve

Unpredictable Fortune, My Past
Lights Up My Future, At Last –
Ending My Torture.

Like Gravity, Like Love,
You Get Up After You Fall.
Like Gravity, Like Love;
I'm Not Afraid Anymore.

If Gravity Was Love…

~Gravity, by Poets of the Fall

Disclaimer: Me No Own; You No Sue.

Yeah, Steve hates nicknames, especially where Tony is concerned. Who wants to be called "Gramps" by someone you are in love with, anyway? Not to mention the fact that Tony considers himself to be Flint Lockwood and Steve to be, well, Steve - who happens to be a monkey. A talking monkey, but a monkey, nonetheless...

Silence whispered in his ears and mind for the first time in hours, during which time Steve sighed in relief, relaxed into his seat within the depths of the large leather couch, and thanked his lucky stars for the reprieve. The Avengers were great, really, but Steve was used to people being quiet, and polite, and, well, not interested in him. Sure, Steve and Bucky were great friends and could talk for hours, but Steve was, and always would be, a Lone Wolf. He liked it that way, too.

Colors flashed brightly in front of him, capturing his attention, and Steve stopped surfing through the endless list of channels to watch the familiar television show. He smiled faintly, almost sheepishly, and then resumed watching another disturbing – but fascinating, Steve secretly admitted – episode of Polygamy USA, from the National Geographic Channel. It was a confusing show with strange themes, but Steve enjoyed it, nonetheless.

"Oi, Capsicle!"

Speaking of polygamists –

"Yes, Tony…?" Steve responded, ignoring his inner frustrations that peaked at the sound of his voice, and then carefully schooled his facial expression into that of the famous Captain America, a stern mask of uniform politeness created during his years as a soldier in World War II.

Unfortunately, Tony bounced into the room in that exact moment, a whirlwind of excitement, noise, and mischief, like always. A cheerfully bright smile lifted his thin, pink lips upwards, and Tony smirked widely at him, laughter dancing in his eyes and making him appear years younger. Steve inhaled sharply, his heart rate jumping dangerously in his neck, and swallowed down a nervous response, choosing instead to wait for Tony to answer.

Tony, however, was apparently busy at the moment. His eyes, a soft but vividly alert brown, swiftly darted around the spacious living room, probably taking in the fact that Steve was alone – yet again – and then stared down at him with barely concealed glee. He preferred to catch his prey, which usually turned out to be Steve, unawares and all alone. Inwardly, Steve groaned about his misfortunes – why me – and then planted his handsome face in his large hands, knowing that this was an opportunity that Tony simply could not pass up.

Joy…

"Hanging out in front of the old Boob Tube again, huh?" Tony drawled, his beautiful brown eyes (Steve scolded himself for that description – beautiful – not two seconds later) flickering from the tense position of Captain America, toward the occasionally flashing lights of his huge television set, and then back again.

Steve could feel the muscles in his jaw pulsing, positively twitching with the need to curl into a sneer or similarly displeased expression. He could tolerate the occasional slur without comment, but Tony liked to curse and make crude, offensive comments all…the…time. It was painfully obvious that Tony liked to bother Steve. Regrettably, Steve was often the punch line of his numerous crude and offensive jokes, too.

If only I could punch him, Steve darkly mused, before shrinking into the safety of the leather couch and sharply reprimanding himself for thinking such violent thoughts about his colleague, his friend, his…

Stunned, Steve paused suddenly in his inner ramblings, his mind blank, with the exception of this lone thought: What exactly is Tony to me?

"Not surprising, though," Tony continued, oblivious to his turmoil and feigning ignorance at earlier irritation, although the small smirk that claimed his lips belied his own amusement. He sadly tossed his head back in forth in mock regret, making certain that his freshly mussed hair dropped into his eyes in an cool and appealing – to woman, anyway – manner. "My Gramps suffered from Couch Potato Syndrome, too."

Eyes closed against the pain, Steve clenched his teeth tightly together, sealing his words inside, and silently wishing to keep the other man in the dark about how badly his derogatory nicknames affected him. Tony was oblivious – or cruel, Steve really could not figure out which – enough to find it funny to call him Gramps, Stars and Stripes, Capsicle, and whatever else jumped to mind. As if Steve really wanted to be reminded of being frozen, stuck miles and miles beneath the rest of the world while it simply passed him by!

"It's a real nasty business," Tony cheerfully stated, his smile wide and unrestrained in its intensity, which Steve believed could brighten the huge room as a ray of sunshine would in the early hours of morning, "especially for old fossils like you!"

As if Steve wanted to reminded of the fact that hisTony could not think less of him…

It hurts so much.

Without warning, Tony slowly approached his friend, hands outstretched to brush against the bare skin of his upper arm, to rest against his muscled shoulder. He paused in the last minute, respecting his personal boundaries for perhaps the first time since their initial meeting, and retracted his hand, curling it into his side, instead. A soft but uncomfortable silence then followed, making it difficult for Steve to think clearly. I want Tony to be mine, but…

Tony peered into his blue eyes, examining the wealth of emotions – pain, regret, confusion, and sadness – hidden deep within. He leaned forward again to touch him, but this time, Tony did not retreat, and instead placed his hand to his shoulder. Concerned, Tony quietly asked, "…Steve?"

What do I mean to Tony?

His expression soured, further confusing his friend, but Steve could not bring himself to care in that moment. Instead, Steve scowled at him, snorted in derision, and darkly muttered, "Oh, I was starting to wonder if the smart, handsome Iron Man would remember my name…" He trailed off, hearing the stubborn petulance in his voice and hating how desperate it sounded; Steve sighed. "…forget it."

Nothing, I mean nothing to Tony…

Oddly enough, Tony did not answer immediately and when it did happen, his answer was not rude, or offensive, or even mean. In fact, Steve did not think him condescending at all in that brief moment of consideration. Nor did Steve feel offended, beneath him, and lesser than Anthony Stark – Genius, Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist, and…

Iron Man.

No, Steve was actually pleasantly surprised when Tony smiled softly down at him, squeezed his shoulder in a silent but sincere apology, and then truthfully murmured, "Believe me, Steve, when I promise that I will always remember your name."

Golden sunshine coursed through his entire body, unfamiliar but not unwelcome, before settling in his chest. Eyes crinkling at the corners and lips upturned, Steve smiled warmly back up at his colleague, his friend, and his crush. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach, and Steve shifted at the sensation of being filled with light, feeling his heart expand to twice its normal size, pushing against his ribcage in an effort to be free, to be given to…

Happily, Steve lifted curled his fingers around the hand at his shoulder, tightening his hold but being careful not to hurt the other man, a surprisingly delicate, fragile being without his Iron Man Suit. He rubbed his fingers over calloused skin and blissfully sighed, "Tony…"

Steve was not, however, surprised in the least when Tony suddenly ruined the perfect moment by reverting to his default personality of Arrogant Asshole. His Tony smirked rakishly, winked at Steve, who was suspiciously glaring at him, and crudely added, "Because I'll need to know whose name to yell out tonight when you're pounding into me, right?"

He blushed brilliantly at the insinuations in that cheeky explanation and, thoroughly embarrassed by the bluntness of his flirting, reeled backwards. Horrified, Steve glanced at everything in the room – with the exception of the other man, anyway – and loudly yelped, "Tony…!"

"You know," Tony suddenly interjected, his expression strangely thoughtful given the words – or rather, the proposition – that just exploded from between his sensual lips, "This reminds me of Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs." He smiled when Steve stared at him, his brow furrowed in confusion, and helpfully added, "That movie with that really weird scientist and his talking pet monkey, Steve…?"

Disgruntled, Steve eyed him with misgiving, examining his innocent expression with what could only be called resignation. He pinched the bridge of his strong nose, inhaling and exhaling softly through his nostrils, and muttered, "…a monkey, Tony?"

Of course, Tony only nodded firmly in agreement, clearly finding nothing wrong with this unflattering metaphor, and smiled brightly at his sweet, patient, kind, and handsome Captain America. He smirked at him, dropped into the unsuspecting arms of the surprised soldier, and playfully kissed his nose. Finding his blush to be endearing and encouraging, Tony leaned forward to kiss his ear and sensually whispered, "Yes, Steve, you are my pet…!"

Steve, surprised beyond words, spluttered uselessly for another minute, before Tony granted him mercy and drawled slowly, "You really think I'm smart and handsome, huh?"

He smiled, kissed the other man with tender affection, and sighed fondly into his dark hair.

"Be quiet, Tony…"

***Author's Note***

So, I haven't written any one-shots in forever and decided to change that little fact! While I do not typically write yaoi stories (with the exception of ALPHA, at least), I do read them, and I really love the idea of Tony and Steve being together. Hope you enjoyed the angst, humor, and sweet lovin' between our wonderful heroes, Iron Man and Captain America. :)