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Legend had it that everyone’s wings were the true outward expression of their soul, the colour revealing some fundamental aspect of the person. It followed that a person’s wings would change colour once they met their soul mate, since their soul was no longer just their own, but one half of an unbreakable set.
Of course, having this actually happen was a rare occurrence, with only about 1 in 650 million couples being bonded. Occasionally someone would claim it had happened to them, to gain attention, only for it to be disproven and that they had been colouring their wings, with dyes or paints. Since no one really knew how bonding worked, and scientists willing to study it were surprisingly scarce, it was easy enough to fake.
When extended, a fully grown adults wings could extend up to 4 metres wide, but when folded they could easily fit under a shirt or jacket. Few people chose to have them on show all the time, since it just seemed too intimate to bear your soul like that and it was, of course, more comfortable not to stifle them. Most people didn’t show them unless they needed them to fly. Not that anyone flew these days, with cars and planes to do the hard work for them. Laziness, not necessity, really was the mother of all invention.
Tony kept his wings folded tight to his back, not even letting them free around the tower very often. He used them to steer when in the armour, because it was easier and more instinctive than using the repulsors, but he hated that everyone knew what colour they were. Growing up in the public eye meant that it was unavoidable. People had always known. Since he’d come out as Iron Man, many speculated that it was a physical manifestation of the blood on his hands. But they’d been that vivid, crimson red since he was born and they knew it. Maybe it had been his destiny to be a warmonger. Maybe it was the deepest truth of his soul.
Tony neither knew nor cared. They were red and that was that.
Yet despite his misgivings he’d painted the armour to match them, because it looked awesome, if he did say so himself.
If it was also a big middle finger to the media, then that was just a happy coincidence.
Consequently, Tony was sceptical about the whole bonding thing. His wings hadn’t changed a single shade, not even when he’d met Rhodey or Pepper. If they hadn’t changed then, they were never going to. Sure, Rhodey would've been a platonic, brotherly bond and Pepper hadn’t been 'the one' after all – their romantic relationship coming to an end over a year ago – but they were the only people that Tony loved more than himself. Which according to most people was saying a lot. Tony’s particular brand of self-loathing was something he kept to himself.
Soul mates were such an outdated and ridiculous notion that Tony laughed at anyone who would dare believe such nonsense.
Surprise, surprise that the one and only Capsicle believed it with all of his patriotic heart. He himself was an outdated notion, so it made sense. Of course, that didn’t stop Tony from laughing at him and his perfectly stereotypical golden wings. They were so beautiful and just so Captain America that they seemed to radiate goodness. In the right light, they matched his golden blond hair. Not that Tony thought he was attractive or anything.
Ok, so maybe he did, but he wasn’t blind. The man was physical perfection personified. Tony would have had to have been dead not to ogle at least a little. Especially when the man was wearing his skin tight armour…
But Tony wasn’t going to pay any mind to the fairy tales and say that the colour of his wings were because Steve was righteousness and kindness incarnate. Because he wasn’t. Not to Tony anyway. To Tony, he was a stubborn, haughty jerk who thought he was always right. And Tony couldn’t put up with that kind of arrogance from anyone.
Pepper had almost died laughing when he’d told her that. He did understand the irony of that sentiment. He might be a genius, but he never claimed to be logical. Being illogical was one of his more endearing qualities or so he thought. It helped him solve problems others couldn't, too stuck on what was 'possible' or not.
Many people, like Tony, had given up on the whole soul mates idea. Which was why Tony got a huge surprise when, a few weeks after the Avengers had infested his home full time, Natasha accosted him over breakfast and asked if he’d bothered to look at his wings lately.
“My wings? Why?” He put down his mug of coffee to absently run his hands along his wings like he did whenever he was lost in thought. They were slightly sticking out of his previously white, now ripped and singed singlet that he’d been wearing in the workshop.
“You haven’t noticed them changing colour at all?” She was smirking. Tony never trusted that damn smirk. It usually meant pain for someone and he’d really prefer it wasn’t him – at least, not again. He still had the bruises from last time he'd upset her. He had been surprised to learn that her wings were navy blue, rather than the black they first appeared to be, and one might be led to believe by her code name.
“No. They haven’t.”
“Are you sure about that, Stark?” Her smirk got smirkier. His feathers stood on edge, in the fight or flight reflex, ready to run away as soon as she finally revealed her ulterior motive. Because if there was one other person in this tower that wouldn’t buy into the soul mate bullshit, it was Natasha.
“I know you hate me, Romanov, but do you have to be so annoying all the time?”
“Last fight, you were using them to steer, when the light hit them and I noticed that they weren’t as red as usual,” She shrugged, taking a sip of her coffee.
Before he could tell her to either get to the point or shut the fuck up, Bruce wandered in, yawning and stretching his own green set of wings. Whether they’d been green before the whole Hulk thing, none of them knew, and they sure as hell weren’t game enough to ask.
“I agree, you know. I think they’ve changed.”
“Et tu, Brucie?” He turned his head to look at his science bro with a look of sheer betrayal.
“I think she’s right,” Bruce chanced a look at Natasha and recoiled. Natasha’s smirk got even worse, threatening to break her face with its smugness. Bruce flinched again at the glint in her eye, before continuing in his soothing doctor voice, “I’m not saying it’s because of a soul bond. It might have been the light or the dust in the air from the collapsed skyscraper.” His hands were held up in the universal sign of 'I mean no harm'. Bruce was ever the pacifist.
“Look, you’re both crazy. My wings are as they always have been and always will be. So drop it.”
They nodded their agreement, but Tony didn’t think for one second that this was the end of it.
That night, after his usual post-battle shower, Tony happened to glance in the mirror and suddenly the conversation popped back into into his head. They might have been crazy, but they’d never know that he had given in and looked. Only JARVIS would know and he wouldn’t dare tell, unless he wanted an unexpected and unwelcome update to his software.
Once Tony’s mind had latched onto the idea that his wings might be changed, it wouldn’t let go. He couldn’t help himself, like a dog with a bone.
He stretched them out, an easy feat in the vastness of his luxurious bathroom. And his heart started racing as he noticed that they were in fact slightly different.
At the very bottom of his left secondaries, right where his wings folded against his back, was a slight discolouration, only a few inches wide. He grabbed his washcloth and scrubbed at the feathers. They stuck out at odd angles, but the colour didn’t change back to the same shade as the rest of his wings no matter how hard he scrubbed. He looked at his right wing and saw a slightly smaller matching mark.
“JARVIS, what colour are my wings?” His heart was pounding in his ears and he laid his hand against the arc reactor, just to make sure it was still there and working and this wasn’t some weird near death hallucination.
“Red, sir,” Came the immediate, ever so slightly condescending, response.
“What about these bits?” He pointed to the offending patches.
“They appear to be three shades lighter than the rest of your wings,” JARVIS somehow sounded as confused as Tony felt. Tony was glad to have someone who was just as freaked out as he was, even if it was an AI computer system.
“When did this happen?” There was a pointed silence as JARVIS reviewed his database.
“Based on previous footage it appears to have begun the day the Avengers moved into the tower. May I congratulate you on your soul bond, sir?”
“No, you may not fucking congratulate me! Who is it?” Tony was unaccountably angry. Why did everything have to happen to him?
“The change has not yet begun to reveal the identity of your bonded. Would you like me to scan everyone again and attempt to find the match?” JARVIS suggested. It would be an easy fix, just scan and compare the wings of everyone in the tower. But somehow the idea of knowing scared Tony so much that he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.
“No, don’t. It’s probably just a new SI employee or something. No need to worry about it,” He tried to sound blasé about it, but his heart hadn’t stopped drumming hard and he felt nauseous. He slid to the bathroom floor, his head in his hands.
What the fuck was he going to do now?
He did worry about it, every second of every day. He’d researched wings for days, scouring every study to find an alternate explanation. And he’d become paranoid and couldn’t help but stare at the team’s wings, any time they were all together. Much like Tony, however, they kept them folded and out of sight, making it difficult to see if anything had changed.
Clint’s appeared to be purple as ever and Thor’s wings weren’t the same as human wings. His were like butterfly wings, always outstretched and like translucent stain glass, rather than the feathered wings of the humans. Steve’s were hidden more than anyone else’s, him being an old fashioned man, with old fashioned sensibilities on the proper wing protocol. Natasha saw through Tony’s pointed observations and flashed her navy wings with a wink. He’d narrowly avoided flipping her off in favour of keeping his body intact. Bruce’s were as evergreen as the evergreen trees in the neighbouring Central Park.
Meanwhile, his own wings continued slowly changing. The colour slowly creeping upwards from the tips, creating an ombre effect. So far, the red had transitioned to a bizarre orangeish colour. Tony didn’t know anyone with orange wings. Tony had double checked with Pepper and her wings hadn’t changed at all from their sky blue. Rhodey had gotten a frantic, 2am drunk call, but his hadn’t changed from the original greyish silver either.
It wasn’t until the Avengers were fighting Dr Doom that Tony finally looked at the one person whose wings he’d yet to see. It wasn’t like he’d been avoiding him. And no, he wasn’t scared. He just didn’t think that the universe could possibly be that cruel. Hell, even being bonded to Barton would be better. And yet, here he was.
The Captain had swan-dived off the top of a 40 story building. Tony’s stomach had dived with him when Cap had spread his wings and flown gracefully to the ground. His beautiful golden wings were almost half orange.
Suddenly it hit Tony like a freight train. The orange was almost a perfect blend between his red and the Captain’s gold. Tony was so distracted that he hit a building like a freight train.
When he came to, the fight was over and the rest of the team had gathered around him. It was a sense of déjà vu that he was becoming increasingly used to. Natasha had that damn smirk on her face yet again, having apparently witnessed the entire thing and knew exactly why Iron Man had run head first into a brick wall at 70 miles an hour.
Bruce was shining a pen light in his eyes, though where he’d gotten it was a mystery. His purple stretchy pants didn’t allow for pockets. Thor and Clint were enacting a play-by-play of their greatest kills, and Steve… Cap was hovering, trying not to look concerned, but stealing glances at Tony nervously.
Tony groaned, closed his eyes and wished he was unconscious again, so maybe he wouldn’t have to deal with the reality of the situation.
He was bonded to Captain America. Steve Rogers. The unfrozen hero of World War 2. His father’s best invention. What the hell was he supposed to do with this information?
And why hadn’t the Captain done anything about it? He must have known. Of all of them, Tony’s wings were the most well-known to everyone, simply because he relied on them in battle. Cap believed in the true love of soul mates, so why hadn’t he approached Tony all excited and happy like the overgrown puppy he was?
He must have been ashamed to have Tony as his mate. There was no other explanation. He must have been hoping it was all a mistake and that their wings wouldn’t match, would stop changing or go back to normal. But they hadn’t and it was obvious now that they wouldn’t.
Tony sat up, pushed Bruce away and jetted away before anyone could so much as utter a protest. Tony didn’t know where he was going, but as long as he wasn’t near the Captain, he’d be happy. He was always a disappointment – to his father, Obie, Pepper and now Captain Perfect.
He didn’t deserve to bond. Especially not to someone like Steve. Howard had always talked about how Steve was so fearless, strong, gorgeous and smart. Howard had always said Tony was a coward, weak, ugly and an idiot.
Maybe he’d been right.
Tony didn’t arrive back at the tower for three days. He’d flown to the nearest 5 star hotel, shut himself in the penthouse and lived off room service, so he wouldn’t have to go outside. He’s stared out the window, watching as the days passed. He ignored his phone and hotel staff when they knocked to check on him.
His mind wouldn’t stop turning and thinking of nothing but Steve. Sure, they’d fought like cats and dogs when they’d first met, but they’d come to respect each other, if nothing else. They fought perfectly beside each other, anticipating each other’s moves, complimenting each other on the battlefield like they’d been teammates for years, rather than a few scant months.
Things had been improving off the battle field too. Their arguments had changed. They weren’t as personal anymore and usually ended in one or the other of them sighing and leaving, rather than physically attacking each other, or, god forbid, admitting that they were wrong. No two stubborner men had ever lived.
Tony didn’t hate the Captain. Never had, if he was being honest. There was just something about Steve that inspired strong emotions in Tony. And really, this explained it. The bond had intensified all his emotions and left him confused and he lashed out. It didn’t solve his problem, but he understood it now.
He just had to accept that his bonded would never want him.
It wasn’t until Pepper found him there, curled up on the hotel bed, wings extended and dishevelled, that she knew what had happened. Sometimes it was like she could read his mind. She didn’t say a word as she curled up beside him and held him. He didn’t cry. He wasn’t sure he was capable of crying anymore. Eventually he broke the silence.
“What am I going to do, Pep?”
“You’re going to go home and talk to him.” She gently touched his feathers, something too intimate for anyone but the closest of friends, straightening out the now almost golden ones that he’d been absently stroking.
“He doesn’t want me,” His voice sounded so small, smaller than she’d ever heard him sound. It broke her heart.
“Tony, he’s a mess. He hasn’t stopped pacing and watching the skies night and day for you to come back.” It was true. Steve’s eyes were red rimmed and he kept stretching his wings, staring at the new colours as the flowed up through the feathers, as if looking at them made him somehow closer to Tony.
“No, he hasn’t.” Tony shook his head sadly.
“I promise you, babe, he’s been a wreck. Natasha tried talking to him and he snapped at her. It was almost like she was scared of him.” The disbelief in Pepper’s voice was unmistakable.
“Natasha’s not scared of anything.” Tony turned to look at Pepper for the first time and she couldn’t help holding him closer and kissing his cheeks lightly.
“That’s how worried he is.”
“He is?” He sounded a little hopeful and hated himself for it.
“I promise. You need to go home to him.” She made it sound so easy, like going home wouldn’t crush him.
“But what if I’m not good enough?” The desperate note was back and he shuffled closer, burying his face in her neck.
“That’s something you need to talk to him about, ok?” She squeezed him tighter for a moment, before releasing him completely and pulling him up, which he grudgingly allowed.
“Alright. But I reserve the right to leave again if it all goes to shit.” He dusted himself off and stood, gathering all his battle readiness.
“Of course.”
Pepper was right. As soon as he landed on the balcony that night, Steve was there, searching his body for injuries. He didn’t even wait for the armour to dismantle before he pulled Tony into his arms and wrapped his wings around them.
“Tony, are you ok?” He pulled back only far enough to look into Tony’s brown eyes, as the face plate lifted up. He searched his face for any sign of damage.
“I’m fine.” At Steve’s disbelieving look, he loosely wrapped his hands around Steve’s biceps and looked into his big, blue watery eyes. “I promise I’m ok. I just freaked out.”
“I know. I was freaking out too, but you could’ve just told me that you didn’t want me.” Steve tried to pull away farther, now that he knew Tony was safe, but Tony didn’t let him, wrapping his wings around them too, securing the other man to him.
They both shivered as their wings touched. Touching a person wing to wing was considered too personal and intimate. But right now, they needed to be.
Tony didn’t want to have this conversation, he could think of a million things he’d rather do, some of which included pointy things and eyeballs, but it needed to happen, so he was going to do it now before either of them could run away. Rip off the band aid quickly, as his mother always said.
“You think that’s why I left?” They were cocooned within the feathers, but the light from the arc and the full moon directly overhead meant that they could see each other’s faces, their breath mingling in the autumn air between them.
“You saw my wings and figured out it was me… That I’m your soul mate. I get it, I do. I understand that you don’t want me,” He sounded so unlike the Captain that Tony knew. He was hunched and looking down. His confidence was gone and suddenly Tony could see his own hurt and insecurity reflected back at him – a perfect match. Suddenly he knew that this was always going to happen, so why bother fighting it?
“Steve,” The name tasted strange but sweet in Tony’s mouth and he couldn’t figure out why he’d never used it before. “That’s not why I left. I mean, it’s sort of why I left. But I left because you hadn’t said anything. You didn’t tell me.”
“I was waiting for you. I didn’t want to pressure you. I thought you’d figure it out and we’d talk about it. Then you just took off without a word. What did you want me to do?” Steve shrugged, small and sad.
“I… I don’t know. I thought you’d take charge, Mr Leader Man.” Tony jokingly poked him in the chest, prompting Steve to look into his eyes.
“I didn’t want you to hate me anymore than you already did.” Steve looked down and away again. Tony grabbed his face, holding it gently, guiding it back up. In the armour, he was the same height as Steve and he was going to use that to his advantage. This time their eyes met and held.
“Do you hate me?” Tony asked.
“Of course not! How could you ask that?” Steve’s spark was back, making Tony smile fondly. Why had he never realised before how much this man meant to him?
“Then why do you think I hate you?”
“Because you left. Because I’m a lab experiment. We always fight…” He looked like he could go on for hours, so Tony interrupted.
“You’re not a lab experiment, Steve. You’re incredible. And that’s not just because of the serum. And you know the fighting’s not all my fault.”
“I know.” Steve smiled weakly at him. His eyes seemed less harsh, now almost affectionate as he looked at the man in his arms.
“So, you don’t hate me?” Tony slowly increased pressure of his arms around the bigger man, bringing him closer still.
“No. Tony, you’re amazing. I was wrong about you. You’re so brave and strong. The red of your wings show your passion and drive, your ambition and determination, your strength and conviction. I don’t hate you. I never did, not really. I just didn’t know how to deal with how you made me feel. And you did bait me at the beginning, don’t even try to deny it.” He was fully smiling now, his eyes playful.
“I won’t,” He smiled fondly as he realised that what he’d been feeling hadn’t been just him after all.
They stood there, wrapped in their wings, smiling goofily into each other’s eyes in silence, before Tony couldn’t stand it anymore.
“What do we do now?” His heart began beating quicker as he hoped against hope that he knew where this was leading.
“I think we should talk about this some more,” Steve replied, pulling Tony the last few inches into his body, belying his words. It felt so right, even with the armour between them.
“Ok. But can I kiss you first?” Steve blushed, but didn’t hesitate before answering.
“Yes.”
They slowly closed the few inches separating their faces. The kiss was gentle and soft, but the feeling that rushed through them was anything but. Their eyes were closed, but light assaulted them from behind their lids. When they opened them, their wings were tingling. They slowly pulled apart to look at them.
Their wings were now perfect mirrors of each other. Tony’s going from crimson to gold, Steve’s from gold to red, top to bottom. They were beautiful. They seemed to be sparkling in the scarce light of the night. They didn’t know it was really because the bond had sealed and their souls were celebrating.
From inside the tower, they could hear the others whooping, cheering and whistling, but they didn’t care, as they both broke into relieved, blissful laughter. They rushed back into each other’s arms, hands pulling at the armour. Tony disengaged it and it fell between their feet as they crashed into each other, mouths and bodies meeting. Their wings wrapped around them again, shielding them from the prying eyes of the other Avengers.
Things weren’t perfect. They still had a lot to discuss. They would continue to argue and their insecurities would work against them, but if ever they fought, they only had to look at their wings to know they were loved and they would always be together, no matter what.
They were never as at home as they were wrapped in each other’s wings.