Work Text:
It started innocently enough.
Tony is lying across his lap, stubbornly refusing to move, arguing that if he is willing to blow work to stay in bed, Steve has no business getting up. Laughing, Steve reaches into the bedside table and recovers a black marker, with which he proceeds to draw across Tony's back, neck and arms. In the end there is ink everywhere, smeared from where Tony's sweat caused it to run and transfer to the sheets and Steve's own skin.
Later, when Tony is dressed for a meeting, all crisp tie and expensive suit, Steve can see a hint of black ink just under his collar, and what it does to him is something he'd never expect.
It's almost a month before Steve thinks of it again. He is lying in bed, Tony passed out at his side, but he can't sleep, his body and skin feeling alien and not quite his own, as it has happened from time to time since the serum.
He is looking at Tony when the idea strikes. This time, it is more deliberate. He goes to his art supplies and carefully chooses a soft, thin tipped brush and a bottle of blue black ink. Tony is shirtless and on his back, so Steve starts at the edge of the ark reactor, where he knows the skin is thick and feelingless, afraid to wake the other man. As he draws, the design expands into the unmarred flesh, the touch of the brush making the little hairs on Tony's chest stand on end. He is aware that at some point Tony woke, but neither moved or spoke when it happened, and so Steve continues. When he is done, the drawing covering all of Tony's chest, with the reactor at it's center a living part of it, he looks up and Tony's pupils are blown, his breathing short.
The next morning he catches himself in the mirror and sees it imprinted on his own chest, several copies overlapping, marking the times his skin came in contact with Tony's. When he showers, he is loath to wash it away.
It becomes a routine of sorts. Tony is going on and on about something a chairman said and he mindlessly gives his hand to Steve, who had been doodling on his sketchbook, and so he doodles on Tony's hand instead, each line appearing to make Tony calmer. Tony finds him destroying sandbags in the gym and wordlessly leads him to his rooms, takes his shirt off and sits in a chair, facing away from Steve, his body slumped forward against the back of the chair.
Steve doesn't look at it too closely, doesn't want to analyze what about it makes him feel so good, if it is the interaction, the trust, the claiming. Tony doesn't bring it up either, so Steve is not sure what is in if for him, but he allows it – sometimes encourages, really – so Steve is not concerned.
As such, when, one day, Tony entered his rooms looking anxious, removed his shirt and sat in front of Steve, his bare arm facing him, Steve didn't think much of it. He only continued what he had been doing – Tony had moved his easel and taken it's place without a second's hesitation. Tony seems to relax the instant the first line is drawn on him, a long exhale passing his lips, and Steve smiles. He doesn't speak, which is unusual, but it doesn't bother Steve.
When he is done, he leans back in his chair to appreciate his work. It is an abstract drawing, as always, but, an exception to the norm, it is done in color. He hadn't made a conscious choice, but he had been working with water colors before and it had just happened. He tries not to blush as he notices the palette – yellow and a deep red on one side, blue, crimson and white on the other, the reds meeting and mashing in the middle. Well, he never said he wasn't a sap.
Tony is smiling, a strange, victorious smile, when he looks at Steve, leans in and kisses him. "Thanks," he says, smile still on. "I have to go, but I'll see you later."
"Sure," Steve nods. Something about Tony is off, but Steve's seen much stranger behavior from the other man, so he doesn't prod. Tony will tell him, if it's something important – or it'll all blow up in his face and Steve will be there to help pick up the pieces, as always.
Despite his promise, it is days before he sees Tony again. Steve receives a message from the other man, saying something came up and not much else is forthcoming, only that Tony will be out of town for a while. This disquiets Steve. Tony is absent minded and sometimes forgets how to communicate like a normal human, but he usually warns before disappearing, especially if not all avengers are available, and Natasha is gone on a mission.
When Tony finally returns, it's been a week, but what bothers Steve the most is the air about him, nervous and fidgety. He doesn't say anything for a while and Steve is about to break the silence, becoming increasingly nervous himself, when Tony finally speaks.
"Listen, I might have done something stupid. Well, I don't think I did, but I think you might and I don't want you to think that, because, well I meant it, and I meant well, but I don't want to freak you out."
It's maybe a sign that Steve has been spending too much time around Tony that he actually understands what the other man says. He remembers laughing when Pepper mentioned she was fluent in "Tony" and tsks at his past self.
"What did you do, Tony? I won't think it's stupid. Unless it really is." This seems to calm Tony, who begins undoing his shirt.
"I wanted to show it to you sooner, but it looked a bit angry, and I thought it'd contribute to you thinking it was a bad idea." His tie is off and Steve is starting to get a suspicion, so he isn't completely surprised when Tony removes his shirt, leaving him in only a wife-beater. "Then I freaked out that you would freak out and.."
The tattoo still takes his breath away, the result an audible gasp. Tony flinches.
"Please don't think I'm a stalker or an overly attached boyfriend. Ugh, that sounds horrible." The tattoo is bright and obviously still healing, but it is beautiful. The colors are bright and true to their costumes and Steve's fingers itch to touch, but his hands are covered in charcoal and it doesn't seem like a good idea.
"You planned this," Steve states, calmly, remembering that day, how anxious Tony had seemed.
"Uhm, yeah. Are you angry? I wanted to surprise you." Tony has that unsure-about-himself look that clashes so much with his public persona but that is such a part of him and Steve drags him closer to show he isn't bothered in the slightest. Tony's leg brushing against his obvious erection isn't his intention, but he sees that Tony is reassured by it, so he tries not to blush.
"Why would I be angry? I... it's... Why?"
"I wanted something that wouldn't wash away in the morning." Tony says, quietly, his hand going to the back of Steve's head, drawing their foreheads together. Steve's hand goes to Tony's elbow, right below where the tattoo ends.
Steve draws him in for a kiss and decides to show with actions what he can't quite articulate in words.
-
Tony talks about getting another one, maybe a chest piece to go with the reactor, so Steve can be there this time. Steve eventually admits to being jealous – his skin heals too quickly, expelling any foreign object, so a tattoo is impossible, as much as he would have liked to also have something of Tony branding him.
-
And then Extremis happens, and Tony is changed. Most people can't really tell the difference but from the obvious things, like the missing reactor, but Steve knows him best, knows every inch of him, has studied him like a book. Gone are the fine lines around his eyes, the scars across his body, the fine hairs, now useless. Steve mourns the loss of his beloved canvas. But this is still Tony, and the tattoo remains, the colors brighter than ever. Steve's other designs, too, appear at random, only to then be replaced by newer or older ones, even the first ones, retrieved from JARVIS's image database. They live in Tony's skin, willful as their owner. Sometimes he traces his fingers across his skin and, as if out of magic, ink appears on the surface, turning the colors Steve requests, and he paints so, each line being committed to the memory of Tony's body.