Chapter Text
Tony was the thinker. The planner. He crunches the numbers and correlates and extrapolates. In Tony’s head, he has plans upon plans, backups upon backups, failsafes upon failsafes.
Anton is more of a risk taker. He has plans and backups like Tony, but he embraces the ridiculous frivolity of the world known as luck and happenstance. Anton knows that he cannot plan as many contingencies like his brother, but he can adapt quickly, he is far more flexible with unknown variables thrown their way. It was why he was always better handling the press, Tony would freeze the moment someone asked him an unexpected question, needing to recompute his carefully formulated answers, but Anton barely even blinks as he smoothly spouts off bullshit with a shark-like smile.
Tony used to complain about that, especially when they were younger, when their differences were more apparent when their flaws were so obvious. “How can you just, do that?” He would ask frustrated behind closed doors, “How did you know she was going to ask us that?”
“I didn’t,” Anton would shrug back, puzzled at why someone as smart as his brother couldn’t understand, “S’just quick thinking that’s all.”
Tony then would purse his lips in that way that conveyed he was beyond unimpressed at the explanation. “I think fast.” He says sulkily. “Remember when we saw dad’s blueprints and I immediately found his mistake? That was super fast.”
“But that’s a different thing ain’t it?” Anton frowns back. “I mean, maybe it’s just cuz you don’t like crowds and all the pressure and stuff you blanked then. You’ll probably get used to it.”
“I better,” Tony mutters as he remembers the absolute reaming he got from their father afterward. God Tony hates how stupid he is at this stuff. Why couldn’t people be like math problems and be satisfied with one answer?
Anton grins, “Don’t worry,” he says, “Even if you don’t, I’ll help protect you.”
“N’uh,” Tony protests but now he’s grinning too, “I’m the oldest one, that means I have to protect you!”
“You’re only older by like, a minute and a half!”
“Four minutes and sixteen seconds,” Tony replies smugly.
Anton makes a face at him. “You know, one day you’ll be so old you’ll wish you’re four minutes and sixteen seconds younger like me.”
Tony scoffs, “Yeah right.”
Tony is the planner, the calculator. He is the architect that builds and devises and creates the impossible from the possible. Anton is the wild card, the artist. He is the designer to his brother’s architect, polishing, improving and finding the possible from the impossible. Together they are unstoppable. Together they’re ready for anything.
Well, until the whole ‘alien invasion’ thing.
“Huh. Well whaddaya know,” Anton drawls as a SHIELD agent comes up from the elevator, Tony has texted him the breach just a few seconds ago so Anton was sufficiently prepared, “If it isn’t the Agents who thought they could, no wait, the Agents of the legless round table, fuck,”
Okay, so when Anton said sufficiently prepared he meant just enough not to jump in shock at the intruder but definitely not enough for a clever quippy pun. If Tony were here they could play it off, make a fun game of it in front of the agent but unfortunately, Tony is playing dead and trying to figure out how some stupid secret agency managed to hack JARVIS well enough for them not to have noticed the breach in security.
Pepper pats his shoulder consolingly, it feels both comforting and condescending at once. “Why don’t you sit down baby and finish your drink while the adults talk?”
“I get absolutely no respect around here,” Anton complained but complied obediently, albeit with exaggerated sulkiness that he knew amused his lover greatly. He takes a sip before making an annoyed clicking sound and pointing at the SHIELD agent with his wine glass, “And you, you might as well sit down and tell us why you came before we call the cops about your little B and E, Stark Industries has made great friends with law enforcement these days and if we make the call I’m fairly sure no pizza delivery guy is going to beat them here.” Fairly sure. Pizza delivery service here is pretty amazing these days.
Oooh, they totally need to order from Little C’s soon. It’s been far too long since he’s had their Mediterranean pizza. It’s so good. Damn. Maybe tomorrow.
The agent gave him a bland smile and failed to comply with Anton’s sitting down suggestion. Which. Totally rude.
“Agent,” Pepper says politely enough but there’s a faint undercurrent of warning there, “you should sit as well.”
The Agent immediately complies, looking at the woman with far more fear and respect, which, while completely understandable, does not make it any less rude. Like, come on. He doesn’t want to be that guy but it’s his tower, come on.
“What do you want then, Agent?” Anton does not sulk.
“Please, I am Agent Phil Coulson,” the man says courteously, but with as little emotional inflection one could possibly make without coming off cold. It was like the man screamed unassuming and bland. While Tony and he had done some research about SHIELD they hadn’t really personally met anyone from there other than Fury and Natasha. However Natasha had come off the whole situation looking incompetent and like any other corporate spy that exploited their good looks, and Fury had quite a… personality that suited a drill sergeant than a spy. Phil Coulson though, that’s the sort of guy Anton and Tony always imagined a real spy would be like.
“Alright, Agent Agent Phil Coulson,” Anton smiles charmingly, “You have two minutes to tell me what you want before I kindly ask you to leave the premises immediately.”
Pepper’s phone buzzes and when she glances down at it, her posture immediately relaxes, making Anton relax as well. Tony must not have found anything too suspicious then. His smile becomes a touch less fake in response.
“We need you to look at this,” Agent Agent Phil Coulson says, getting straight to the point and handing out a file toward Anton. “As soon as possible.”
Anton looks at Pepper who takes the file and hands it to him. “Thank you,” He gratefully tells her and they both share a smile.
Then they talk about the Avengers Initiative.
Tony, Ironman was already deemed suitable for the Avengers Initiative on a part-time basis. Part-time partly because SHIELD is squeamish about bringing in anyone when they don’t have a solid grasp on their personality or background, and partly because neither Anton nor Tony were very interested in working under SHIELD in the first place. They were used to being the bosses of their own thing, they had each other, Pepper and Rhodey as their team, they’re able to let my Ironman out with the public and government’s blessing, and honestly, it wasn’t like they weren’t capable of retrieving whatever information SHIELD has as well.
There was literally nothing SHIELD could offer the twins that would benefit them save some extra firepower. And even then it was a little iffy.
“Other than Banner I’m not exactly psyched about this lineup,” Anton complains as he flies in a more stripped down version of the Ironman suit to the Helicarrier. Just because Ironman was his official bodyguard didn’t mean Anton wasn’t willing to wear the armour at all, however for the public’s reassurance, he and Tony decided the ‘Tony Stark civilian’ suit should be more aerodynamic, focusing on speed and escape tactics than power and weaponry. Not that there wasn’t weaponry. A good offense was the best defense after all.
“Really?” Tony sarcastically replies as he diverges slightly from his brother to head to the given coordinates for the commotion happening in Germany. “I didn’t realize, thank you for clarifying this to me for the fiftieth time.”
“It’s just,” Anton says, clearly ignoring his brother which was such a dick move because Anton established this private conversation between suits in the first place and had done something to make sure Tony couldn’t override and mute him whilst in said suit. “Okay fine seeing Captain America in the flesh will be kind of cool but it’s not like he’ll do much in comparison to us. Then we have Natalie-“
“Natasha.”
“-Natalie, who let’s face it seems to be only there because this whole team is a sausage fest and gender diversity is important.”
“Well, I mean,” Tony hesitates because he’s not exactly wrong. After all, despite the fairly impressive resume they saw on the file, and the even more impressive body count through their own investigation, the only things they know of her personally was that she failed to infiltrate Stark Industries. Which, while understandably hard to do, does not make her very capable in their eyes. “She could be for, uh, espionage stuff?”
“That’s why they made SHIELD in the first place.” Anton brutally points out, “Her whole ‘secret secret’ crap flies immediately out the window once she joins the very public avengers. I mean yeah, maybe for negotiations and infiltration she’ll be good but come on. This project has been in the making for how long? And they couldn’t even get like, an X-men or a mutant.”
That was also a valid point. Recently, especially that last two years or so, mutant activity was starting to form and gain attention, opinions on them were varied and unfortunately skewed toward the negative. It would’ve been much more beneficial to have picked a mutant for the Avengers Initiative in the long run.
“They probably would have if they had a mutant under their employment. Well, one they can trust anyway.” Tony snorts, from what he understands from gleaming the files, with an agency as paranoid as SHIELD it would be impossible for them to trust anyone more powerful than the average human much less find someone that would trust them. Having Captain America fall into their laps was quite the boon really.
Knowing exactly what Tony was thinking Anton makes the verbal equivalent of a scowl. “Or one they could control like Captain Popsicle.”
“Anton...” Tony groans.
“What? I’m just saying!”
“Look I don’t have time for- I have Loki in my sights, will reach in three minutes,” Tony, reports.
“Good, blast some kick-ass music,” Anton replies as he arrives deftly on the quinjet. “Also how does he look?”
“Can’t get a clear visual, Captain America-“ Tony makes a very short, high pitched and very unmanly sound that only fanboys and girls can achieve, “is blocking the view.”
“Not that you’re complaining,” his twin says bemused, “also don’t think I’m going to forget you just fan-gasmed just by saying the guy’s name near him.”
“I did not-“
“Get ready, Tones.” Anton suddenly warns.
Tony rolls his eyes. Such a worrywart, “Yeah, yeah,” he mutters and with a well-practiced movement, he flies toward the ongoing fight down below, blasting someone who Tony assumes is Loki given the frankly ridiculously obvious villain get up before touching down, pulling out every flashily menacing pieces of weaponry that the suit has. “Make your move, Reindeer Games.”
Inside the quinjet, Anton chortles as he listens in.
“Hey, who’s more your type tincan, Loki or Thor?” Anton asks gamely while he works alongside Bruce. Tony, inside the Ironman armor, crosses his arms and hums while his mind whirs as he takes in the data spread out on his helmet screen.
“Both are gorgeous.” Tony muses, “I do like the muscles on Thor but there’s something about the image of being pinned down by Loki, god of Chaos, that makes me weak.”
Anton clicked his fingers and pointed at his brother triumphantly, “I know right! It’s gotta be that edge of crazy in his eyes that’s getting me hot and bothered under the collar. Then again, Thor seems like the earnest golden retriever type which is kind of nice too. What do you think Dr Banner?”
“Um.” Dr Banner says uncomfortably, “Are you guys always like this?”
The twins look at each other and shrug simultaneously, though Tony had to exaggerate his own gesture considerably to show it through the armor. “Pretty much Dr Banner.” He replies. It’s a pity how little inflection he can convey, everything he says sounds deadpan, “We’re, like, totally besties.”
Anton wags his finger at Banner playfully, “And don’t try to change the subject, good sir.”
“I’m, ah, kind of straight?” Banner tried. It didn’t work.
Anton snorted, “I’m also ‘kind of’ straight. C’mon, hypothetically, who is the most bangable god?”
“You don’t have to listen to bossman over there if you don’t want to Dr Banner,” Tony sighs fondly, before adding, “But seriously, I would go Loki all the way, he seems like the fashionable, sassy one with brains, and I like that.”
“Wait, are we talking about dating them or having sex with them?” Banner asks, “Because depending on the answer I need to change mine.”
Anton raises an eyebrow, “Okay, now I’m intrigued- by the way, I would bang Loki, date Thor and marry Ironman.”
“Wha- why are we adding more rules to this?!” Tony groans, and also, he knows they need to keep their covers but ugh, so much ew.
“Um, I think I would have sex with Loki, date Ironman, marry Thor.” Banner decides finally with a decisive nod, before blinking and amending with, “Actually, date Thor, marry Ironman. I don’t think I could take the pressure of being part of alien warrior royalty.”
“I’m not sure that I appreciate that being the only reason you’ll accept my ring on your finger, Doctor.” Tony laughed, earning a small twitchy smile from the other.
“And what about you Ironman?” Anton winks, “Fuck, date or marry?”
“Wait, he can’t do it if one of the options is himself right?” Banner asks curiously.
“Well, who do we replace Ironman with?” Anton looks at the doctor expectantly, both twins were delighted that the Doctor Bruce Banner was actually giving some serious thought into this.
“Fury.” He says finally, triumphantly, and Anton laughs as loud as Tony groans.
For the record, Tony would fuck the hell out of Thor and marry the fuck out of Loki. And Fury can just fuck off.
“Take away your bodyguard’s fancy suit and what are you?” Captain America sneers.
“Uh, a billionaire, playboy, philanthropist?” Anton smirked, rubbing his nails against his chest before blowing on them arrogantly. Anton’s good at brushing away insults but that doesn’t make it stop stinging, Tony can see the way his counterpart’s shoulders are tense, angry, hurt. It makes him boil.
“Mr Stark without the suit is more than you could ever be without the serum Captain.” Tony, Ironman, steps in. He wishes the voice modulator was more emotive but the fury and derision were clear enough. “Everything that makes you special comes out of a bottle.”
It sort of snowballs from there. Tony felt bad for the Captain, he didn’t know that he picked a two for one deal in the Stark department, but the man certainly gave as good as he got. Bringing their father into it was a low blow and Tony can finally see what Anton had been telling him all those years back when they were teenagers.
Captain America was a Grade A asshole.
Fuck. Tony owed Anton so much money after this.
“You know that’s a one way trip Ironman?” Captain America asks.
Tony grimaces at the reminder as he flies toward the portal with a nuke. Like, fucking obviously. This wasn’t exactly his first choice for… anything really.
“Sir-“ JARVIS begins, but Tony already knows what he was about to say.
“Patch him in JARV,” he orders, he doesn’t have time to be polite.
JARVIS pauses for a bit before he complies.
“Don’t, don’t you fucking dare Tony,” is the first thing Anton says, low and hoarse and terrified, “Don’t you, Tony, please, don’t, please,”
“I’m sorry Anton. Tell Pep and Rhodey, sorry too.” Tony whispers, he’s close to the portal now. It’s terrifyingly vast now that he’s so close into it. He doesn’t want that to be the last thing he’ll ever see.
He doesn’t want to die.
“Tony, don’t,” Anton sobs, “don’t.”
“I love you.” Tony murmurs and then he ends the call.
Shawarma was an inside joke between Tony and Anton.
They were gourmets, it was hard not to be growing up rich like they did. They have tried whale. Which isn’t exactly ethical now, but the point is they, at one point, had consumed dried whale meat in Japan. And jellyfish noodles. And haggis. But not shawarma.
Shawarma was like that one classic movie you promise yourself you’ll get around to watching soon but never do because of reasons. Shawarma was like the weekend road trip you and your friends planned in passing but never got about actually doing it. Shawarma is like telling people you’re planning to volunteer your holidays helping sick African dolphins but ended up never getting around to filling in the application.
So when Anton got a text from Tony (‘Not dead. No one kissed me. We’re getting shawarma, you gotta come.’) about shawarma, he laughed till he cried.