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There was something special about gearing up for battle. Of course there was the usual fear, the nerves swirling low in Tony’s stomach and the anxious need to get moving already, but there was also something a little more longing. It wasn’t that Tony wanted villains to attack the Earth, but he couldn’t deny the stirrings of adrenaline that made his pulse race and his cheeks flush. It gave him a purpose in life, a way to give back to the world and the people that had given him so much over the years.
There was also something to be said for the feeling of getting ready and working with the team. His team. Suiting up with them all, receiving their briefings from Cap, – or some stressed-out Shield member who clearly wasn’t paid enough to deal with them all – and then a quick hug.
Tony was a tactile person. He always had been, even when he hadn’t been around anybody who would give him the affection he needed. It seemed that even through the thick metal of his suit, the touch of his team was enough to burn his skin.
He could feel Thor’s hand on his shoulder, could feel the press of Natasha’s thigh against his. Clint was usually away from him in the circle, but their fingers always brushed over someone’s shoulder blades. Whilst Bruce normally stood on the outskirts of their group hug, Tony caught him for a soft handshake before he jumped from the Helicarrier.
As much as Tony enjoyed that feeling of belonging, it was always Steve’s touch that Tony longed for the most. There was probably something very wrong with the thrill that went through Tony when his phone chimed with an Avengers alert. Sick, really. Something very wrong with the fact that Tony looked forward to hearing an alarm, to lifting his phone to be told to suit up and meet the rest of the team.
But this time was no different.
“Ah, Mr Rogers,” Tony drawled as he stepped into the Helicarrier to see Steve’s back to him, uniform half on and hanging around his waist, “I’ve been expecting you.”
Steve’s laugh was a sound that Tony didn’t think he would ever be bored of. It was loud, left the man like a bark, and always sounded as though Steve hadn’t anticipated it happening. Without fail, Tony’s own lips would curve up at the noise.
“I understood that reference.”
“I should think so,” Tony said as he stepped further into the Helicarrier, taking note that they were the only two there. “We only watched that film the other night. You’re not that old.”
Steve chuckled again and Tony shamelessly let himself stare at the rippling muscles on his back. Snapping himself out of it as best he could, he dropped into the pilot’s chair and set about starting the Helicarrier’s course. Their route had been preprogramed already and it didn’t take long to set them off, engaging auto-pilot as soon as he could.
“Just the two of us tonight?”
“Yes,” Steve said in answer, finally turning around to smile at Tony as he made his way from the controls to the back of the aircraft. “Thor’s off-world so he’s skipping. Nat and Clint were at Shield already so they’re closer; they went ahead with some new recruits. They’ll meet us there.”
“And Brucie-Bear is in India,” Tony said, setting down the briefcase containing his armour and clicking it open, standing to let his suit start to unfold. “Cozy battle.”
Steve’s eyes traced the hypnotising path of the armour before he met Tony’s gaze for a moment. “Low-level. By the time we get there, I’m sure it will be clean-up only.”
Tony licked his lips as Steve stretched to put his undershirt on, but schooled his features when Steve looked his way again.
“Then why are we even going?” He wasn’t ashamed of the whine in his voice when it made Steve laugh again.
“You aren’t supposed to enjoy the fighting, Tony.” The admonishment in his voice was purely for show; Tony knew for a fact that Steve hated clean-up just as much as he did. “It’s a team effort.”
“I’m not so much for the team,” Tony said, knowing that Steve wouldn’t believe him for a single second.
As if to prove him right, Steve snorted as he shrugged into the rest of his suit, tightening his belt and checking the straps on his shoulders. “It’s a practice run more than anything, anyway. We’ve sent some of the new agents out to see how they manage.”
Tony clicked his tongue and waited until he had Steve’s attention on him once more before he let his eyes dance down the other man’s body.
“Well,” he started, cocking out one hip and raising his eyebrow, “if it’s such an easy job, then I guess I don’t need to wish you any luck.”
The look on Steve’s face could have broken the strongest man and Tony felt heat course through him. Steve’s eyes were hooded, pupils blown so wide that they were almost all black.
“Well,” he echoed, taking a step towards Tony. “I wouldn’t say that. It might only be a practice run, but it’s always good to have luck, wouldn’t you agree?”
Tony ran his tongue over his bottom lip and moved forward until Steve’s boots touched the metal of his. Their little game sent a thrill down Tony's spine, no matter how many times they played it. “Of course. Maybe we should throw salt over our shoulders?”
“Could do,” Steve said, voice as low as his eyes were dark.
“Or we could rub a rabbit’s foot.”
“That is proven to work.”
Tony lifted his hand, armour not yet wrapped around it, and rested it on Steve’s chest. “I don’t suppose we could convince a bird to defecate on us?”
Steve’s lips twitched minutely as his own hands settled on Tony’s hips. There was no chance that the touch was actually melting through the suit, but Tony could have sworn he felt it searing his skin.
“Probably not,” Steve said, face inching closer and closer. “We should just stick to our own ritual.”
“You think?” Tony’s tongue darted out again and Steve wasn’t subtle as he followed it. It had been a year, if not two, since they’d begun their pre-battle ritual, and they hadn’t missed a single one. “That’ll work?”
“I’d say so,” Steve said, voice husky and making something deep inside of Tony stir.
“Well, if you think so.”
Tony didn’t get a chance to say anything more as Steve suddenly yanked him forward. Their bodies collided in a way that shouldn’t have been sexy and yet Tony’s head still swam.
There was no preamble to the kiss. Sometimes they’d be slow about it; leaning in gently, holding eye contact and breathing into each other’s mouths until the very last moment. Sometimes they’d only have a second before they had to go and the good luck kiss would be nothing more than the slightest brush of their lips before they broke apart and rushed head-first into the fight.
But other times there was no build-up to a romantic moment, no hiding in a corner for fear of being spotted, no finesse at all. There was no telling how the kiss would be until it started and Tony craved every unsure, mysterious moment.
Steve’s fingers dug into his hips and jolted Tony out of his thoughts, his attention suddenly all on the way that Steve’s lips pushed against his almost forcefully. Steve’s clever tongue pushed into his mouth and Tony yielded to it almost immediately, though there was no way that he was going to submit entirely. Moaning into Steve’s mouth, Tony let his hands wander up Steve’s chest and hooked them around his neck, holding him close as Tony rocked against him.
As it always did, time moved too quickly and, with one last drag of his tongue over the roof of Tony’s mouth, Steve eventually pulled back. Tony leant forward with the movement until Steve was gone.
“I think,” Tony said, holding Steve’s gaze and licking his lips, “that that was more worthwhile than finding a rabbit’s foot.”
“I’d say so.” Steve’s lips quirked and his fingers lessened their grip on his hips. “We should get going.”
Tony nodded, stepping back and commanding his armour to finish covering him. His hands disappeared behind shiny metal, though the urge to touch Steve wasn’t lessened at all. “Should see how the newbies got on.”
“Exactly.” There was a series of beeps from the front of the Helicarrier and Steve dropped his gaze to the watch on his wrist. “GPS says we’re only two minutes out.”
“Right.” There was so much more that Tony wanted to say, but he couldn’t. Feelings never came easily to Stark men and he wasn’t in the habit of making himself vulnerable.
Anyway, their ritual was just that. It was something that they did before a battle, nothing more. It was the same as Clint stretching out his arms or the way that Natasha checked and double checked her ammunition. It was like Thor throwing Mjölnir a few times, or Bruce nervously following the GPS tracker. It meant nothing more.
And one day, Tony would believe that.