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Language:
English
Series:
Part 2 of The Scientist and the Shifter
Stats:
Published:
2015-05-17
Words:
1,179
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
14
Kudos:
485
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28
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4,609

Bon Appétit

Summary:

Steve has a bit of trouble adjusting to Tony's infamy.

Notes:

So I know I said I wasn't going to make any of my "Writer For Hire" oneshots into multi-chapter stories. But then YokuMiya asked me to continue this as a late birthday present. Umm. I'd never actually talked to YokuMiya before, but you know, birthdays are important.
YokuMiya prompted "Steve's doggy instincts make him protective...or possessive...or both. Preferably this happens because of the media being evil "

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Tony groaned at the sun as he entered the kitchen of his apartment.
“Shoo,” he told it.
His boyfriend’s head shot up. “Are you talking to me?”
Tony shook his head and waved him away. “No.” He gestured behind him. “The sun.”
Steve gave him a sympathetic smile. “Still sick?”
“You don’t need to be sick to know the sun is an evil harbinger of doom.”
Steve chuckled and stood up. “Shall I make you breakfast before you wage war on the sun?”
“I’m not going to wage war on it. You are.”
“Uh-huh.” Steve ducked in to press a kiss to Tony’s forehead before opening the fridge. “Why would I do that?”
Tony slumped down in the nearest chair. “What’s the point of having a magic boyfriend if he won’t wage war on the sun when I ask?”
It had been a few months since Tony had discovered that the Golden Retriever he’d been meeting with in the park near his apartment was a shapeshifter. He was…adjusting.
“I’m not magic.” Steve chided as he pulled out the eggs. “It’s all completely natural.”
Tony raised an eyebrow. “Pull the other one.”
Steve sighed. “I’m not getting into this again.”
Tony nodded and ran a hand through his hair. “Probably a wise decision.” Steve was right, he still hadn’t recovered from his sickness.
Steve gave him a look of mock horror. “Are you actually going to let this go? You must be dying.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Tony reached across the table to grab at the news pile. “Did you fetch the mail for me?”
“Never gets old,” Steve said dryly as he turned on the stove.
Tony nodded as he flipped through the mail. “Wouldn’t make the jokes if you were scarier than an oversized Chihuahua.”
Steve didn’t respond, continuing to cook.
“Like Bucky.” Tony continued mindless as he opened an envelope. “If I was dating Bucky, you wouldn’t hear a peep from me.”
“If you were dating Bucky you would have killed each other already.”
Tony nodded again. “Too true.” He discarded the envelope and opened another. “Of course,” he mused. “We’d be an incredibly attractive couple.”
“As opposed to the ugliness that we are.”
“Well, ugly is a subjective word.”
“I can still chuck these eggs into the bin.”
“Whichdoesn’tdescribeusatall,” Tony finished.
Steve chuckled and scraped the eggs onto a plate, before approaching Tony and placing it in front of him. “Bon appétit.”
“No way you speak French.” Tony mumbled.
Steve gave him a knowing look as he kissed him. “Eat up.”
“You’re so good to me baby.”
“Well, someone has to be the good guy in this relationship.”
Tony rolled his eyes. “Please, we all know it’s just a guise.”
Steve blinked innocently at him. “I have no idea what you mean.”
Tony took a bite of egg. “Keep making food this good and you won’t ever have to know.”
Steve ran a hand through Tony’s hair. “Sure.”
“Did you just pet me?” Tony demanded indignantly, mouth full of egg and toast.
Steve laughed as he went back to the fridge.
Tony muttered some rude words under his breath and angrily grabbed at the next piece of mail, a magazine, and flicked through it.
It took a few seconds to realise what he was looking at.
“You have got to be kidding me!”
Steve’s head darted up from where he was pouring himself orange juice. “What’s wrong?”
Tony didn’t respond, pouring over the article.
Steve put down the carton and approached the table. “Tony?”
Tony was shaking slightly. “I. was. Sick.” He hissed.
Steve placed a hand on Tony’s shoulder and pulled the magazine away gently.
Tony sighed and closed his eyes, going through meditations he’d learnt. “Of course they would.”
Someone had been talking to the press again. This time about how he was a reckless man, purposely flaunting his wealth and genius by skipping MIT for three weeks straight. Apparently someone in his class had decided to take a page from the girl who’d ‘blabbed’ the year earlier. His MIT class had a mole.
“Oh well,” Tony shrugged to himself. He should’ve seen this coming. That’s what being rich was all about, right? Trading privacy for security, truth for money.
He looked up at Steve, who hadn’t moved.
“Steve?”
Steve hadn’t moved. Tony frowned.
“Are you o-”
Steve growled.
Tony blinked at him. “Did you just growl?”
Steve’s eyes fell on him and Tony shivered.
“Uh. Down boy.”
Steve glared at him and stepped forward, his fingers twisting in Tony’s hair to pull him to his feet and kiss him. This kiss was different than all their previous ones, this one was rough and animalistic and Tony finally pushed him away, wiping away blood from where Steve’s teeth had pierced his lips.
Steve still looked furious.
“Um…good boy, right?”
Steve gave him a look. “They shouldn’t treat you like that.”
Tony froze. Then he burst out laughing.
Steve flushed. “It isn’t fair.”
Tony shrugged, running a hand through his hair and his tongue over his wound. “Life isn’t fair.”
Steve folded his arms. “You haven’t even done anything.”
Tony stepped forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “C’est la vie.”
“It shouldn’t be.”
“I knew you spoke French.”
“They’re slandering you.”
“What’s new?”
“You should-”
“What? Complain? Become the whiny brat who can’t handle the media, willing to take the money but not the fame? Start a fight? A lawsuit? Trust me, it won’t work.”
“But…” Steve turned his blue puppy eyes on him. “You don’t deserve this.”
“Ugh. Some people would say I do.”
“They don’t know you.”
“Exactly. These articles are the media’s attempt to get them to know me.”
“It’s all lies.”
Tony wrapped his arms around him. “You’re so good to me baby.” And then he made a noncommittal noise. “And it’s not lies. It’s ‘misinformation’.” He did quotation marks. “They can always redact it. Anonymous sources and all.”
Steve made a noise into Tony’s shoulder.
“You’re cute when you’re all protective.”
Steve didn’t respond, but kissed his neck.
“I’ve never had someone get defensive before,” Tony babbled. “It’s weird. Nice.” Suddenly he realised he was on the verge of crying.
Steve seemed to realise too, and pulled away to kiss him again. “That’s what I’m here for.”
“Really, I thought it was to make me question my sanity, what with the chi-”
“I swear if you call me a Chihuahua, I’ll never cook you food ever again.”
Tony laughed and pressed his face back into Steve’s chest. “The press cause problems. That’s what they do. It’s their raison d'etre.”
“Hmmph.”
“You know, if we’re going to do this, you’re gonna have to get used to this. Can you?”
Steve looked him in the eyes. “I guess you’re worth it. You sure you okay? I can make the journalist mysteriously be plagued by panthers and hawks.”
Tony laughed. “Probably not the best way to go about it.”
Steve shrugged. “It’s worked before.” Then he walked back to the counter.
“Wait…. You’re not serious are you?”
Steve grinned at him.

Notes:

Not much dog!Steve in this. But uh yeah.. Hope you guys liked it.

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