Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

As is the case in Tony’s life, it starts with an accident.

He enters the communal kitchen in the dead of the night after a fifty-eight hour engineering binge to make himself a cup of coffee. Of course, he could’ve done it in the privacy of his workshop, but DUM-E accidentally broke the coffee pot in his enthusiasm to cater to Tony’s ill-advised request, much to JARVIS’s disapproval.

His mind hazy with exhaustion and vision blurring slightly around the edges (that can’t be good, he thinks, but quickly swats the thought away because he needs his caffeine fix, damn it), he distantly hears himself croak out a request for JARVIS to turn on the lights to twenty-five percent. When he’s bathed with the soft fluorescent lights, he mumbles a thanks and proceeds to make his way to the counter where he knows the coffee machine is located.

Tony’s blinking blearily as he opens one of the cupboards to retrieve a mug while he waits for the coffee to be brewed. Thankfully, he doesn’t have to wait long, and when he hears the familiar sound of the machine signalling it has finished doing its job, the engineer — mind still reeling with formulas and coming up with specs for the new Black Widow suit he has in mind — absentmindedly reaches for the coffee pot.

He feels for the handle, and when his fingers graze something solid, he distantly wonders why the coffee pot weighs considerably less than he imagined. Chalking it up to his mind playing tricks, he shrugs and proceeds to poor the hot liquid into the white Stark Industries mug in his grasp.

But instead of the aromatic smell of black coffee permeating the air, Tony startles awake when he hears the mug smash into a hundred pieces. Brows furrowing, Tony blinks twice and looks at his hands.

Then he blinks again.

And again.

“This... is not the coffee pot,” he says dumbly.

“Astute observation as always, sir,” JARVIS replies dryly, though there’s no mistaking the hint of astonishment in his voice.

Letting the AI’s snark slide, Tony blinks once more before he gapes at the hammer in his hand.

And it’s not just your typical hammer. Specifically, he’s holding Thor’s hammer.

He has Mjölnir in his hand.

Like, what even.

“What the fuck?” Tony declares, dazed. He physically shakes his head, unable to grasp the reality that he’s just wielded fucking Mjölnir in the kitchen at four in the morning. “J, why the fuck is Thor’s hammer in the kitchen counter?”

“Mr. Odinson left it there by accident as he became more preoccupied with beating Mr. Barton in Mario Kart,” JARVIS answers.

Huh. Okay, then.

But that still doesn’t make sense why he has Mjölnir in his grasp, though.

Tilting his head in curiosity, Tony now takes note of the slight humming he feels in the hand that’s still firmly clutched around the handle of the weapon. Momentarily forgetting about his caffeine fix, Tony’s lips quirk into a bittersweet smile as he eyes Mjölnir.

“You really think I’m worthy?” He asks, not expecting an answer but is astonished when the humming intensifies. Tony swallows past the lump that quickly grows in his throat, and it’s through sheer force of will and stubbornness that he manages to say, “Nah, girl. This is probably just a one-time thing. I’m pretty sure I’m gonna crash in the next couple of hours, so I’m chalking this up to another accident, because God knows this night’s been a clusterfuck from one thing to another. And there’s no way this is gonna happen again.”

Another humming and Tony finds himself chuckling darkly. Minding the porcelain shards of the shattered mug and blaming it on his lack of sleep and proper nourishment, the engineer slowly reaches out a hand to lightly caress the faint markings of the hammer’s face. He allows himself several long moments just holding onto Mjölnir and feeling the now pleasant humming of her power resonate within him.

Breathing out slowly, and shakily, Tony clears his throat before gently setting the hammer down in the same place he vaguely recalls it was located. He quickly cleans the countertop of the shattered remains of the mug before he takes out another one from the cupboard. Careful to not mistake the coffee pot for another object (or weapon), Tony pours the thankfully still searing hot coffee into his new mug.

He pours himself a second cup and turns to leave, but not before he takes a final glance at Mjölnir innocently lying face down on the countertop.

Smiling wistfully, he remembers the words uttered to him in his head, and he shakes his head again before he leaves the floor to return to his workshop.

It’s not like it’s gonna happen again.

Tony Stark is many things, but being worthy of wielding a powerful weapon created for a god is not one of them.

Sure, he’s a genius and the best in his field, but even Tony knows he’s not that special.

Though little did he know how he’d be proven wrong.

It was just another ordinary day for Clint. Well, as ordinary as it can be considering the life he lives. After spending two hours with Natasha at the gym, where his long-time friend proceeded to beat the crap out of him, no surprise, it only took him half an hour to shower, shave, and dress before he makes it to the communal kitchen for breakfast.

Perched comfortably on one of the stools in the kitchen island, Clint’s in the middle of pouring a hefty amount of Lucky Charms into an equally huge bowl when his sensitive ears pick up the familiar footsteps of their resident genius. The archer looks up when Tony comes in, blearily making his way towards the coffee machine.

“Mornin’,” Clint greets cheerfully, eyeing the other man in mild amusement as he gropes the content of the cupboard for a mug.

Tony yawns as he grunts a greeting back.

“Is it morning already? What time’s it?” He asks, and Clint takes in the exhausted lines across Tony’s sleep-deprived face.

“Past eight,” Clint replies. Then after a moment, he asks, “How long have you been awake, anyway?”

Tony shrugs while rubbing his eyes. Oh, if Steve were here he'd be swooning at the sight, Clint thinks with a quiet snort.

“Dunno. Twenty-six hours, I guess.”

“You’ve been awake for approximately thirty-nine hours, sir,” announces JARVIS suddenly, and there's no mistaking the disapproval in the AI's tone.

Clint arches an eyebrow at Tony, who directs a glare at one of the cameras installed in the common area. The archer hears Tony mumble “traitor” under his breath as he turns his back on Clint to focus his attention on the coffee machine.

Well, Steve sure won’t be happy once he finds out Tony’s been on another engineering binge, Clint thinks with a snort. It’s bad enough he’s a witness to the duo’s unsubtle flirting, considering that they’re all living in the same building, and one of these days Clint swears he’s going to get fed up and lock those two up in a closet so they can fuck it out. That is, if Steve eventually grows a pair and decides to stop beating around the bush to make a move on Stark. God knows how much of a mother hen their leader can get whenever Tony goes on these work binges; Clint would describe it as pathetic if it weren’t so — perish the thought, he’s shuddering just thinking about it — cute.

Bleurgh.

Clint shoves away images of his teammates getting it on (he doesn't want to lose his appetite, thanks very much), and instead he diverts his attention back to his breakfast. He finishes pouring milk in the bowl and takes a few bites before he speaks up.

“Hey, Tony, mind putting the milk back in the fridge?”

He twists the cap of the milk jug until it’s properly sealed before handing it out to Tony who’s closest to the fridge. Clint would do it himself but he’s far too comfortable in his position to move.

What happens next is one that the archer will never forget.

He hears Tony grunt in acknowledgement before he twists his upper body, hand reaching out for the milk jug. Then, out of nowhere, Clint’s ears pick up the whooshing sound of something approaching from behind. But before he can move or react, Clint witnesses the whole thing in slow-motion.

He sees his own hand clutching the milk jug for Tony to take. Next, he catches sight of Tony’s expression go from disinterested to alarmed, brown eyes blown wide in — panic? Shock? Fear? — before that something whooshes past Clint and into said genius’s outstretched hand.

For several seconds, nobody moves.

It takes Clint a horribly long time to discern what just happened and what’s in Tony’s hand.

Holy shit.

“Holy shit,” Clint hears himself say. He knows he’s looking just as wide-eyed as Tony who has Mjölnir in his fucking hand.

“Uh,” he hears Tony say dumbly.

“What the fuck?!”

“Uh…”

Just then, they’re both broken out of their stupor when the coffee machine beeps. Tony blinks a few times, still looking dazed, and Clint’s still wrapping his mind around the fact that Tony Stark just wielded Mjölnir out of thin air that he completely misses to see the slight shaking in Tony’s hands as he pours the steaming liquid into his mug. Clint, clearly dumbfounded at the sight of his very human friend clutching an alien god’s weapon in his other hand, continues to openly gawk at the sight, mouth hanging open and all.

Forget his favorite breakfast, he just bore witness to something monumental for fuck’s sake.

“I’m just gonna… go,” he belated hears Tony speak. Then, carefully depositing Mjölnir face down beside the coffee machine, the engineer beats a hasty retreat, leaving one very confused — and very shell-shocked — archer.

Suffice to say, today is no ordinary day after all.

Chapter Text

They’re in Bruce’s lab when the physicist decides to bring up The Incident.

A few weeks has passed since Clint shared the news to Bruce and the rest of the team of Tony’s ability to wield Mjölnir. Bruce was startled, as were the others, while Thor, surprisingly, reacted favorably to the news. In fact, he was so thrilled that it took Steve using his Captain America voice to refrain the Asgardian from hunting Tony down and congratulating him for “being the first Midgardian and a fellow shield-brother who is worthy of his dear hammer”.

Fortunately, Thor obeyed their leader’s command (it wasn’t anything but a command, obviously), albeit very reluctantly because the first time they attempted to bring that topic up over one of their team dinners, Tony had gone completely stiff and stared at them with guarded eyes. Bruce didn’t have to be a master spy to see the unsettled look that passed over Tony’s face when his eyes met Thor’s warm, if not gleeful, stare. Thankfully, Natasha was quick to defuse the situation by swiftly changing the topic to recount the meeting she had with Fury regarding the clean-up of their latest mission.

That was the only time they dared to bring up that topic, and honestly Bruce is part confused and part curious to find out why that’s the case. Because from one genius to another, shouldn’t Tony be intrigued to learn more about Mjölnir? Now that he’s armed with the knowledge of being able to lift it, Bruce half expected that Tony would be all over the moon about it, eager to scan the object and study it from all angles.

Of course, he also half expected the genius to take great pleasure in rubbing it in their faces, most particularly Steve’s. But in a nice way, Bruce thinks with an inward snort, considering Tony is head over heels for their leader.

Anyhow, taking into account that humans lack the proper tools to analyze a god-like weapon, Bruce is still inclined to study the components of the hammer, even if he himself isn’t worthy.

Now if only his fellow Science Bro felt the same inclination.

“Hey, Tony,” Bruce begins in the most casual tone he can muster.

He sees Tony glance at him from the corner in his eye, but the mild-mannered physicist wills himself not to hunch further from his position of peering into the microscope as he examines the DNA of the creature they defeated the other day.

“Yeah, Brucie?” He hears Tony ask, and he sounds like he’s half listening, the other man absorbed in breaking down the schematics of the spear-like weapon their enemy used to fight them.

Bruce shrugs one shoulder, still maintaining (or trying to, he’s no spy like Nat and Clint) that air of casualness as he thinks, fuck it, and decides to nip this whole thing in the bud.

He’s no Steve Rogers, he’s not a tactician. Sometimes, the only way through is, well, through.

Fortunately, the Other Guy is pleased with that approach, too. At least that’s another thing they both agree on.

“From one scientist to another, aren’t you curious to gather more information on Mjölnir?” Bruce asks, trying to sound blasé but failing to dismally. Ah well, no use pretending. This is Tony after all.

From the corner of his eye, he notes the stiffening of Tony’s shoulders, the other man’s jaw clenching for a moment before he slowly breathes out through his nose.

Hmm. Interesting.

Bruce frowns to himself and thinks that there must be more to this. Tony’s a scientist, after all. He wouldn’t just brush the whole thing off for no reason, consequences be damned. So whatever happened the first time he wielded Mjölnir in Clint’s presence, it must’ve been something big to even freak him out of experimenting on the hammer. In the name of science, of course.

“Don’t know what’s there to learn more about,” Tony eventually utters, sounding indifferent but Bruce knows better now. “Forged in the heart of a dying star, right? That’s what Thor said. Created with magic and all that jazz. Nothing further to learn, really.”

“Didn’t stop you before when you tore down the schematics of the Chitauri’s weapons for science,” Bruce quips back as he glances up in time to meet Tony’s unimpressed gaze with a knowing look of his own. Sighing, he abandons the sample he’s inspecting to angle his body towards his friend’s. He remains quiet, and when Tony doesn’t speak, Bruce lets out another sigh as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

Well, here goes nothing.

“Tony, you’re my friend. And these past few weeks, we’ve all been skirting around the topic of The-Incident-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named because, for some reason, you’re really freaked out by it. Don’t argue,” the physicist adds with an imploring look when Tony opens his mouth to do just that.

“Bruce,” Tony starts wearily.

“I know it’s bothering you,” Bruce says softly. When Tony’s doubtful eyes meet his a second time, Bruce can’t help the wave of compassion he feels for his friend just then, the Other Guy rumbling at the back of his mind. “But what I don’t know is why. I suppose I can understand that it must be overwhelming to know that you can lift Mjölnir. I mean, it’s an alien weapon created to be wielded only by the worthy. I’d be intimidated, too, if I were in your shoes. But… you’re my friend, Tony. And though your unease about it confuses me, a part of me worries more.”

Finally, after a long staring contest following his heartfelt declaration, Tony’s shoulders sag. Bruce remains silent as his friend lets out another sigh.

“It — she spoke to me,” Tony finally utters, his face unreadable. Bruce blinks, not because of the admission but rather at the use of a pronoun in regards to Mjölnir. They were all aware that the weapon is sentient, but Bruce never thought that it, she, goes by a pronoun. Well, who’s he to judge, anyway?

“What did it — she — say?” Curiosity peaked, Bruce leans against the table, giving his complete attention to Tony, the engineer absentmindedly fiddling with the alien weapon.

He notes the way Tony’s jaw clenches for a moment before forcing himself to relax. He still looks tense, body coiled as if ready to bolt at a moment’s notice, but despite that Bruce can also see that Tony’s shoulders have relaxed somewhat.

“Mjölnir said that she felt me. That through Thor’s association with me, she saw me as I am, and deemed me worthy. Not just the ability to lift her, but —” Tony falters for a second, and Bruce sees him swallow inaudibly before he forces the rest of the words out, “— but in general. She believes that I’m worthy, and she wanted me to be aware of that.”

Bruce blinks and cocks his head.

“And what did you tell her?” The physicist asks, careful not to trigger a negative reaction from his friend.

Tony shrugs. “I told her she must be talking about Steve because there’s just no way in hell I’m fucking worthy. I mean, it’s logical that Captain America is worthy and not me. Not me.” This time, Bruce frowns. But before he can say anything, Tony continues on. “Then Mjölnir got pissed, I think, because she started vibrating in my hand; said that I’m an idiot for thinking those things. Then she went on this rant about how a person’s worth is not measured by what they can do or what they can accomplish, that if that were the case then a hundred others would be able to lift her aside from Thor. No, she said that she measures worth by their heart.” Tony laughs bitterly, and at this point Bruce is growing more alarmed by the second. “And let me tell you, Brucie, that didn’t make sense to me. At all. Can you imagine — me? Be considered worthy by a sentient hammer because I have heart? What a joke! I’m a fucking mess, a walking disaster, and a royal pain in everyone’s ass. If anything, I’m the last person who’d be deemed worthy of anything.”

Okay, so this is less science and more of an existential crisis, Bruce thinks in horror when he sees the tormented look in Tony’s eyes.

Fuck, he’s miscalculated this time, and he quickly needs to reassess everything.

This was never about Tony freaking out because he can wield Mjölnir. No, all this time Tony’s been suffering in silence because a sentient war-hammer has just told him that he’s worthy. Not just worthy to wield Mjölnir, no — but that he was recognized as a person of worth. And that acknowledgement certainly triggered something in Tony, which Bruce understands about his friend because he’s starting to paint the right picture now.

Mjölnir unknowingly (or not) took a lifetime’s worth of Tony’s fears and insecurities and completely hammered — no pun intended — the simple truth in the genius’s thick skull through one phrase.

Well, he’s assuming it’s just one phrase.

Now, he is perfectly aware that he’s not that kind of doctor, but Tony is one of his best friends and he deeply cares about the guy. So Bruce decides then that he will no longer allow Tony to wallow in this state on his own.

“Tony,” he begins. He shuffles closer to the engineer and, haltingly, rests a comforting hand on Tony’s shoulder. It takes a second before he feels the latter relax further under his touch. “You and I both know I’m not that type of doctor. I’m not gonna be uttering platitudes that won’t even mean anything.” Tony snorts, and Bruce is pleased when the engineer shoots him a tiny smirk. “But you’re my friend, so let me just say my piece and we’ll never speak of this again if that’s your wish.” At Tony’s reluctant nod, Bruce continues. “Sometimes, you fail to see the simple things as they are because you’re too busy looking at the bigger picture. Not that it’s a bad thing; it goes to show that you’re only human — flawed, yes, but still human. Every so often your head is so far up your ass that you forget you’re no longer the person you were before Afghanistan. Even after all these years, you still carry the weight of other people’s mistakes on your shoulders, and you’re still atoning for the sins you’ve committed, even if half — or most — of it wasn’t your fault to begin with. Yes, you’re a mess and a walking disaster, and also a pain in the ass, but who isn’t?

You’re Tony Stark. Your name carries weight, naturally, but what you’ve done and accomplished isn’t what makes you you. All those things can be accomplished by anyone, but the difference between anyone and you— and I think this is where Mjölnir’s trying to hammer her point into you, no pun intended — is that you do all these things not to raise the company’s stocks or keep up your reputation, but you do so out of selflessness. A devotion to mankind, so to speak. You create innovating technology to help better our future; you save countless lives on a daily basis, and that’s both in and out of the suit. I’d name all the philanthropic stuff you’ve done, but the list is endless. Tony, you chose to do all that and more, because you want to — because, and let me quote you, ‘why shouldn’t I?’. In its simplest form, it’s all about intent, and what you choose to do, is a huge difference from all the other public figures who do, or attempt to do, the same thing.”

“You done yet?” Tony finally says after a significant period of silence. If the situation wasn’t delicate, Bruce would’ve laughed out loud at the stunned look on Tony’s face. “‘Cos all this talk is honestly giving me the hives, Brucie-pie.”

“We were having a moment, you ass,” Bruce ends up saying with a lopsided smile. “I didn’t have to say all those things, but I did it out of love because you’re my best friend.”

Tony grins at him, though the physicist sees the vulnerability in his expression, notes how his eyes are bright with repressed emotion, so Bruce opts to squeeze Tony’s shoulder once before letting go and taking a step back.

“You just know how to make a man feel special,” the genius remarks, and Bruce is decent enough not to point out how Tony’s grin falter at his heartfelt words.

“Come on, I’m starving,” he decides to say. One look at his watch alerts him that they’ve skipped lunch a while back. “Let’s go up for a quick lunch then finish this up.”

Tony clears his throat and nods once. “Yeah, sure. Lunch sounds good.”

He can feel Tony’s heavy gaze on him, but Bruce does his best to act nonchalant as he moves back to his table to clear up his workspace. He pretends he doesn’t hear Tony clear his throat again, pretends he doesn’t glimpse from the corner of his eye the way Tony inconspicuously swipes at his eyes. He pretends but deep down Bruce takes this moment as a learning curve.

There’s more to Tony than meets the eye, yes. He’s known that since the failed Chitauri invasion. But what he didn’t know until today was how deep Tony’s insecurities lie, how doubtful he is of himself, considering his achievements and accolades. That information alone is enough for the Other Guy to want to break out and avenge his favorite teammate. It also goes to show how protective Bruce has become of his friend. Going over the engineer’s words earlier, it makes the physicist's blood boil with anger at all the people who hurt Tony, who made the man question his own self-worth.

He’s the first to pack up so he tells Tony that he’ll wait for him at the elevator. He barely makes two steps out of the lab when Bruce hits something solid. He trips over, letting out an undignified noise as he falls to the ground.

“Bruce? You okay, buddy?”

The physicist, in question, hears Tony’s voice drift closer. Bruce gingerly gets up from his sprawled position to turn to see what tripped him, only to be greeted by the sight of Mjölnir innocently lying face down at the entrance of his lab.

Tony’s comically perplexed expression at the sight of Thor’s weapon served to break Bruce out of his shock as he laughs at the situation.

Once his laughter subsides, Bruce ignores Tony’s flat look in favor of saying, “Any chance you can bring that up to the common area lest I break my neck next time?”

Tony sighs and rubs his eyes. “Hey, J. Any reason why Thor thought to leave his hammer here in the first place?”

“Mr. Odinson left it there by accident after I alerted him of Mr. Barton attempting to break into the safe that contains his pop tarts,” JARVIS replies after a short pause.

Bruce purses his lips to refrain from grinning, but he can’t help the snort that escapes him when Tony closes his eyes in exasperation. Fortunately for Bruce, Tony decides not to make a big fuss, although the physicist is amused when the engineer sighs deeply before grumbling under his breath about irresponsible Asgardians. Bruce takes a step back as Tony shuffles closer, and he sees how self-consciously the genius carries himself for a moment before he bends down to grasp the handle with his right hand. A moment later and he’s clutching Mjölnir in his hand.

Now, Bruce already expected it, what with Clint’s detailed recollection of the first time it happened. Regardless of his body language that screams ‘uncomfortable’, the sight of Tony holding Mjölnir doesn’t fail to bring a smile to Bruce’s face.

They say that to see is to believe. In Natasha’s case, she doesn’t have to see Tony wield Mjölnir to believe that Clint and Bruce are telling the truth. Even so, it would help satisfy her curiosity to witness it herself.

Nearly two months have passed since the first incident it happened, and Natasha is nowhere near to witnessing Tony lift the alien weapon. Under other circumstances, she’d try to convince Thor to goad Tony to lifting the war-hammer, but since that first attempt over one of their team dinners, and the stern talking to they got from Steve after Tony escaped to his workshop, Natasha thought that sometimes respecting people’s boundaries is better than forcing the issue on them.

In this particular case, Tony is her teammate. Hell, he’s become one of her dearest friends after they’ve gone past the clusterfuck that was Tony’s period of self-destructiveness due to the palladium poisoning her spying on him. Yes, the man can be a huge pain in the ass, especially to the people he doesn’t like — cue in the media, Justin Hammer and, on occasion, Fury. But once you’ve gained Tony Stark’s trust and loyalty, you have it for life; and deep down, Natasha counts herself lucky to have Tony’s friendship, even if she chooses not to verbalize her appreciation.

Actions speak louder than words, after all, so the ex-Russian spy deciding to help train Tony in hand-to-hand combat and not bringing up the enormous elephant in the room even once is a feat in and of itself.

Really, she should get a reward for keeping her mouth shut this long.

Sure, she’s seen the cautious way Tony would shoot her way on occasion, as if he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. As if half expecting Natasha to use her skills into getting Tony to open up to her about The Incident. A part of her feels sad and, admittedly hurt, that after all the years they’ve known each other Tony would still expect the worst of her. But another part of her, the sensible part that is, could understand why Tony would draw to that conclusion.

You live your whole life looking over your shoulder to see who would backstab you, only to realize at the last second it was right in front of you all along.

It’s pretty fucked up, it’s what it is, and that’s why Natasha is doing her best to do right by Tony, in any way she can.

So if that means she has to swallow her inquisitiveness in seeing Tony wield Mjölnir with her own eyes (JARVIS has refrained them from seeing the footage of Tony lifting the hammer, for some reason, though the redhead can guess who gave the AI that particular order), then so be it.

They’re in the middle of fighting an army of robotic spiders (the irony is not lost on her) when she hears Clint’s panicked voice over the comms, the archer perched somewhere high as always.

“There’s a horde of spiders incoming on sixteenth,” Clint shouts. Ah, so that’s why he’s panicking. “Nat, you’ve got less than a minute to get the fuck outta there.”

“They’re called a cluster, birdbrain,” Tony quips over the comms, and Natasha hears the familiar sound of repulsors and crunching metal.

Grunting with the effort of disabling another spider bot, Natasha calmly states, “No use, they’ll easily outrun me. But I could use a lift.”

“Iron Man,” Steve’s voice comes next, and Natasha can’t help but roll her eyes (in fond exasperation, don’t get her wrong) at their leader’s insistence to use their codenames during battles. Not that they follow it, but sometimes they slip occasionally.

As if reading his thoughts, she hears Tony say, “Already ahead of you, Cap. ETA fifteen seconds, Nat.”

“No worries, take your time,” Nat responds dryly. Thankfully the whole street is devoid of civilians since they evacuated the perimeter earlier on in the fight.

“Thor, you’re the next closest to Nat. Can you intercept the spider bots in time while Iron Man comes to give her a lift?” Steve continues after he lets out a breathy thank you to Tony.

Hopefully that’s not bile she can taste in her mouth because she’d rather not die to the thought of ‘when will Steve and Tony resolve their sexual tension?’

“Aye, Captain!” Thor booms excitedly.

Unfortunately, neither Tony nor Thor arrive on time because not barely five seconds pass when she hears the telltale sounds of the cluster of spider bots approaching around the corner.

Fuck. She fights back the panic that’s rising when she counts at least twenty of the robots in favor of re-charging her Widow bites and re-loading her gun.

“Any second now, boys,” Natasha says, surprised that she still manages to sound calm.

“Fuck,” Clint swears. “Tony, Thor, you better be there in the next second ‘cos from what I can see, there are about two dozen of those shitholes coming at Nat.”

Natasha notes with morbid amusement when she hears Tony curse in Italian, the sound of the repulsors audible in the distance.

“Almost there, almost there,” Tony chants.

She’s jogging backwards when she aims her Bites at one bot and takes one down. They’re quickly catching up to her, and with nowhere to hide, Natasha has no other choice except to use each and every arsenal at her disposal. She starts shooting at the approaching bots once she ran out of explosives. It didn’t do much damage, to be honest, but she notices that if she shoots them in the head they tend to topple over the bot beside them.

Then all of a sudden, Natasha hears before she sees the crackle of lightning that appears from behind them. In the next second, Thor comes sweeping over the spider bots, swinging Mjölnir left and right before he releases a surge of lightning over the remaining bots so powerful that it hits two of the upturned vehicles and oh fucking shit, there’s leaking gas —

Before she knows it, two things happen at once. One — the upturned vehicles exploded, thus destroying the bots closest to Natasha, but she was also caught in the crossfire. So when she feels something hit her leg, and when she feels her bones break, she’s unable to fight off a scream. Second — one moment she’s flying through the air and the next she registers Iron Man’s arms wrapped around her frame before they both tumble to the ground in a graceless heap.

Natasha finds herself on her back with Tony in the Iron Man suit lying several feet to her right. She shuts her eyes against the searing pain in her leg, and she takes several deep breaths and ignores the panicked voices of her fellow teammates shouting over each other before she opens her eyes and glances down her body.

She was prepared to see one of the bot’s legs sticking out of her, but seeing Mjölnir situated on her thigh is a sight she never expected to see. Unbeknownst to her, Natasha doesn’t realize she’s cursing in Russian when she hears a choked sound over the comms and right next to her.

“What the fuck,” Tony reacts vehemently. “How the fuck did you get hit with Mjölnir?!”

“She what?!” Clint squawks.

“Black Widow report,” Steve commands, worry laced in his tone.

“I’m fine, Cap,” Natasha says through gritted teeth. Then after a beat, she darkly adds, “But Thor won’t be.” She attempts to move her leg but ends up gritting her teeth to prevent a scream when the throbbing pain intensifies.

“Don’t move!” Tony snaps at her before he repulsors a lamp post off his legs before getting up to approach her prone form. “J, scan for injuries. I don’t want to move her unless anything critical’s been hit. Also, where the hell is Thor?”

This time, it’s Clint’s voice they hear over the comms. “I’ve changed spots but — hang on, I think — yeah, I have visuals on Goldilocks. He looks to be knocked out. Must be from the explosion as well ‘cos there’s a slab of concrete and an upturned vehicle on top of him.”

“Alright, I’m coming there to assist him,” is Steve’s curt response.

Natasha, for once, does her best to stay still as JARVIS does his scanning through Iron Man’s sensors. After a few seconds, she hears Tony hum as the AI relays the diagnosis to him via their private channel.

“Well?” Natasha asks with a raised eyebrow. She can feel sweat dripping down her forehead, and her face must be a lovely canvas of dirt, soot, and blood. Just another day at the playground.

It’s in that moment that Tony decides to lift the faceplate, and Natasha meets his worried look with an impatient one of her own.

“J said there are no internal injuries except for a femoral shaft fracture,” Tony relays, and Natasha’s gaze must’ve turned murderous because he winces and adds in a guilt-laden voice, “I’m sorry. I should’ve been faster.”

Natasha blinks in shock. She wasn’t expecting that, either. It takes her a few moments to gather her thoughts before she eventually says in the gentlest tone she can muster considering the state she’s currently in. “Tony, don’t. It’s not your fault, so don’t blame yourself. I know I don’t. Besides, with our line of work something like this was bound to happen.”

“Point taken, but I think there’s something to be said about being hit with an alien god’s weapon, accident or not,” Tony retorts, though he still looks distraught. Then he kneels next to Natasha who’s only able to get up on her elbows, one gauntleted hand gesturing at the hammer still innocently resting on her broken thighbone. “I’d say wait for Thor, but I’m afraid if we wait any longer it’ll only cause more damage to your leg. SHIELD medic’s on the way now, so. May I?”

“Oh my god,” she distantly hears Clint. “No fair, I wanna see Tony do it again!”

Later on, she’ll blame it on the pain, but it takes Natasha a few seconds to understand the implication of Tony’s request and — oh.

Well, it looks like she’s finally going to bear witness to Tony lifting Mjölnir. She would’ve preferred it to happen under better circumstances, but she’s not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. So with a nod to signal her consent, Tony only hesitates a second before he grips the handle of Mjölnir and swiftly lifts it from her broken leg.

The sight of Tony clutching Mjölnir, albeit uncomfortably, while in his Iron Man suit easily outshines the throbbing pain coursing through her in that moment.

Worth it, Nat thinks fondly, and she doesn’t just mean this particular moment at all.

Chapter Text

Thor doesn’t need to see for himself to believe that Tony is worthy of Mjölnir. The Man of Iron has proven himself time and time again that he is a steadfast ally The Avengers and SHIELD can rely on. Not only that but Tony is also a loyal and caring friend, as well as a generous and kind host, not hesitating to house the team in his Tower and provide them with all their wants and needs.

Which is why he’s disheartened when he realized that the eccentric mortal completely fails to grasp the importance of this feat. Thus, Thor has taken it upon himself to create opportunities wherein he can leave Mjölnir whenever Tony is not in his workshop or penthouse, giving his friend the chance to better acquaint himself with Mjölnir. Fortunately, he also had the full support of his dear hammer and JARVIS, so the Asgardian was able to carry out his plan to near perfection.

He would have considered it flawless if not for the slight hiccup several weeks ago, when Natasha was injured on one of their battles caused by his oversight in flinging Mjölnir towards one of the mechanical spiders. It wasn’t until the upturned vehicles exploded that the trajectory of his target had changed, much to his regret. Nevertheless, he had apologized profusely to his injured friend and vowed to make it up to her. Agreeing to share the codes to his safe where he keeps his beloved pop tarts was a small price to pay in aiding Tony to slowly accept his worth in wielding his dear hammer.

Truly, Mjölnir has developed a soft spot for the brilliant man. With the way Mjölnir reacts whenever Tony is in the vicinity is telling enough. It is not evident to the others, of course, for they don’t possess ability to sense these things, but it never fails to bring joy to Thor to observe the minute vibration and tiny sparks of lightning his dear hammer emits every time she senses his friend.

And though it saddens him that after all this time, three months to the day since Clint had spread the news of Tony’s ability to lift Mjölnir, Tony still appears to be uncomfortable whenever the subject is broached and doesn’t hesitate to shy away from it.

Your friend is worthy and he does not realize it, Mjölnir tells him one day when Tony makes a hasty escape when he spotted Thor casually swinging the hammer in the kitchen island as the Asgardian munches on his third box of hot sundae pop tarts.

Aye, Thor responds with sorrow. Friend Tony is more complex than you think. Even I am not knowledgeable of everything the Man of Iron has gone through prior to the Battle of New York.

We must do something about it, Mjölnir insists stubbornly. I cannot just sit idly by while your friend, who is worthy of so much more, sees himself as anything but. Your executions thus far have worked, but only barely and not to the degree we want.

I agree with you, my dear, but there is only so much we can do at this point. I do not want to put pressure on Tony for I fear that he will only shy away further from us.

The hammer remains quiet in his hand for several moments before Thor feels her acceptance of his statement.

By all means, she tells him. His heart is pure — I told him so all those nights ago — but he does not believe it. We can only hope that his perspective will change. As to how, only time will tell.

Oh yes, Thor agrees silently. Only time will tell, indeed.

So when Thor sees Tony at the gym a week later, the genius fighting against a robot he designed to be his opponent in the boxing ring, the Asgardian instantly jumps at the opportunity presented to him.

“Tony! How about a friendly spar with me?” Thor booms excitedly as he fully enters the gym. With Mjölnir in his grasp, he doesn’t miss the light tingling in his fingers when his dear hammer senses Tony’s presence.

“I doubt I’ll last a minute, Lightning McQueen,” Tony answers, nonplussed. Thor notes how the genius removes one of the boxing gloves to swipe a hand at the robot. It instantly relaxes its stance as Tony walks to the edge of the ring to guzzle down half the contents of a bottled water. “You have more chance sparring with Steve, though.”

The mention of their leader causes Thor to smirk in amusement, briefly recounting an incident the other day that involved a burnt meal and his two besotted friends covered head to toe in flour and eggs, the mess not able to hide their blushing faces.

Nevertheless, Thor will not concede defeat for he has a plan.

Or, part of a plan.

Rather, he has the beginnings of a plan.

“Nonsense!” Thor exclaims, and this time he doesn’t fight the mischievous grin from spreading across his face. Tony’s beginning to look at him suspiciously as he adds, “We will be evenly matched, my friend.”

Raising one eyebrow, Tony answers him with a touch of sarcasm in his voice. “Yeah? Care to enlighten me?”

Gladly, Mjölnir says with undisguised glee.

“Gladly,” Thor says aloud, and between one breath and the next, he casts Mjölnir in his direction.

He sees Tony freeze, eyes wide in shock when Thor’s war-hammer hurtles towards him, and Thor notes with part amusement and part admiration at the swift response of the Midgardian. One second Tony is frozen on the spot and holding on to the bottled water — and the next, he twists his torso, thrusts his un-gloved hand out, and deftly catches Mjölnir with cat-like grace.

It’s quiet for several moments, Thor observing Tony with smug satisfaction as the latter breathes heavily, expression a mix of astonishment and — fear? Longing? Unease? Thor is unsure so he files that away for now, the Asgardian wanting nothing more than to dispel his friend’s worries and insecurities once and for all.

“Thor, what —” Tony exclaims, trepidation written plainly over his sweaty face.

This time, Thor’s grin softens into a smile as he gives Tony a knowing look.

“You are worthy, my friend,” he states in a matter-of-fact tone. He lets those words sink in first before he continues. “After all, it is only prudent that you also learn how to handle Mjölnir in a fight.”

“I — what?”

“Come now, you must be longing to know as well. For science,” he adds, beaming widely.

The look on Tony’s face is one Thor believes he won’t forget, and the ensuing “sparring” that takes place soon after is one the Asgardian counts as a victory. It takes several occurrences before he notices Tony’s body language start to loosen the more Thor coaxes him to train with Mjölnir, citing that it is imperative he learns to handle her in a fight, even if he possesses his Iron Man suit. After the ninth consecutive time he interrupts Tony’s workout, his friend looked almost completely at ease, if only because he’s also grown fond of Mjölnir. Thor would even go so far as to assume that his dear hammer may have played a significant part in easing his friend’s anxiety.

Ah, if the All-Father could see this, Thor believes that he would, as Midgardians say it, shit his pants.

“Tony, the doctor’s orders were to take it easy for the next few days. You shouldn’t be working in this state.”

Steve enters the workshop and stares at the stubborn genius with a reproachful look. Annoyed as he is, the super soldier can’t help the rush of affection when Tony, who’s hunched over one of the tables and fiddling with one of the gauntlets, glances up and looks at him like a kid that was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. His expression quickly shifts as he grins roguishly at Steve.

“Well, he didn’t exactly specify what activities I should and shouldn’t do,” Tony reasons with a shrug. “So joke’s on him, really.”

Steve’s annoyed at himself for being surprised for being annoyed because, well, this is Tony he’s dealing with and he shouldn’t even be worked up about it anymore. Hell, the countless times he’s marched down to the genius’s workshop for this sole reason every time they finish a battle has pretty much become routine by this point. So really, if anything, the joke’s on him.

“For a genius, you sure can be dumb,” Steve says instead after counting down from ten in French in his head.

Tony mock-gasps.

“Not in front of the children, cupcake,” he replies with a pout. “Besides, we’ve been doing this song and dance for years. Years, Steve. I know when to concede defeat. Sometimes.”

“Yet you still haven’t learned your lesson,” the super soldier retorts with a raised brow.

“I wasn’t aware you were teaching me a lesson in the first place. Care to enlighten me, mio caro? Preferably in the bedroom,” Tony adds with a lascivious smirk.

Try as he might, Steve can’t help but smile at the sheer impertinence of the man. And sweet Mary, did Tony just call him ‘my dear’ in Italian? Unfortunately, that’s the exact moment he feels his cheeks and neck grow warm. He’s definitely blushing right now, and by the sound of Tony’s gentle laughter it’s clear that the genius saw it too.

“You’re a shameless man, Stark,” Steve voices out with a shake of his head.

Still chuckling, Tony quips back, “Yeah, but I know you love it.”

Ignoring the unpleasant rolling in his stomach because nerves, damn it. It doesn’t matter if he’s all jacked up with the serum because for Steve, he’ll always see himself as the short, stubborn, asthmatic kid from Brooklyn who still gets tongue-tied around the person he likes.

However, he can also read between the lines just fine, and Steve’s perfectly aware that it’s not only the mother hen attitude Tony was referring to when he pointed out that they’ve been doing this song and dance for years. It’s also the shameless flirting, the blatant displays of affection (he’s lost count how many kisses on the cheek he’s received; but he’s also lost count how many hugs he’s given), the ridiculous pet names (Tony often calls him ‘honey’ while Steve likes to use ‘babe’, much to the their teammates’ exasperation), and the inevitable way they always gravitate to each other whenever they’re in the same room.

Regardless of those facts, that doesn’t mean that Steve’s not gonna give as good as he gets.

“With that mouth, I can think of a dozen ways to put it to good use.”

Tony blinks, jaw dropping in shock at his words. Despite his slackened expression, there’s no mistaking the tight lines around Tony’s eyes and mouth. Going back to his earlier purpose for coming down here, it’s clear to see that Tony’s in pain. It’s times like today — well, tonight, since the battle lasted for hours and debriefing at the Helicarrier took another hour and a half — that Steve hates not being able to be more useful. It hurts him to see Tony in pain, and though the injuries are not visible at the moment since he’s still in his undersuit —

Oh.

Okay, so Tony’s still in his undersuit. And Steve only noticed that now? So much for being a sharp-eyed super soldier. God, it should be a crime to look that delectable, the blond thinks as he swallows inaudibly. Try as he might, he can’t help the way his eyes drift over Tony’s, the material of the full-body suit clinging almost obscenely and proudly displaying the firm and compact muscles of the brunet’s lithe frame. The curve of his shoulders, followed by a teasing glimpse of collarbones that makes Steve’s mouth water with want, then to the well-defined pecs, abs and trim waist, and then those gorgeous thighs.

So his brain might have short-circuited at the view. Christ, what did he do to deserve this?

Honestly, Steve may have initially come down here with good intentions to properly chastise Tony, but what he didn’t expect is to want to stay with Tony in the workshop for a completely different reason.

Reasons.

Absolutely filthy reasons.

Physically shaking his head to clear away the graphic images of him bending Tony over one of the tables and showing him a fantastic time, Steve clears his throat and not-so-casually walks over to the closest worktable to hide the evidence of his arousal.

“Anyway,” Steve starts after clearing his throat a second time. “I’ll stay here and wait ‘till you’re done with whatever you’re doing. The others have ordered dinner, and since JARVIS informed me — us — that you haven’t eaten in twenty-six hours, you’ve no choice but to join us.”

At that statement, Steve sees Tony visibly react. The genius jerked as if electrocuted, blinking those beguiling doe eyes rapidly as he stiffly moves to put the ruined gauntlet back on the table before glaring at the nearest camera.

“J, you’re a traitorous traitor and I’m donating you to Burger King tomorrow,” Tony gripes, but there’s no heat in his words.

“If I had a physical body, I would be quivering in fear, sir,” JARVIS snarks back.

“I’ll change your coding so you’ll never conspire against me again.”

“That is one way of describing me looking after you, sir. It is, after all, my sole duty, to protect my creator.”

For all that it’s supposed to come as a witty retort, there’s no mistaking the sincerity in JARVIS’ tone, and Steve can’t help the smile that blooms on his face when he catches sight of Tony’s face softening at the AI’s words.

While Tony continues to take notes on reparations for his suit, Steve meanwhile inspects one of the blueprints displayed in front of him, absently noting that it’s a schematic of new arrows for Clint. He keeps track of Tony’s movements from the corner of his eye, lest the stubborn genius injures himself further. He hears him clear his throat, back now fully turned to the super soldier, and Steve is momentarily distracted at the view of Tony’s round, plump ass. It’s a spectacular ass, alright, and Steve got so lost in another fantasy of him worshipping Tony’s body that he completely fails to hear the whooshing sound behind him signaling the arrival of one of their teammates entering the workshop.

It isn’t until he hears Thor’s loud, booming voice that Steve jolts from his daydreaming.

“Hello, Steven,” the Asgardian greets with a knowing grin at Steve, much to the super soldier’s embarrassment. Thankfully, Thor walks past him to stand next to Tony, heedful of the latter’s injuries as he places a careful hand on his shoulder. “Tony! How are you faring, my friend?”

“I’m right next to you, Point Break, no need to shout,” Tony winces but there’s a genuine smile on his face as he looks up at Thor. “I’m fine. Peachy keen. What’s up?”

Steve coughs at the declaration and mutters “Bullshit”, but he smiles innocently when Tony shoots him a dirty look.

Thor, either oblivious to their small exchange or not, just grins down at Tony and holds Mjölnir up.

“My dear hammer wishes to speak to you,” he says, and Steve’s eyebrows rose high enough to reach his hairline because holy crap, is he finally going to witness Tony lift Mjölnir?

To be fair, this evening’s been eventful enough, so Steve’s more than willing to be a spectator of what he hopes is going to occur in the next five minutes.

Tony turns his body to properly face Thor, so Steve catches a glimpse of the frown on the genius’s face when he answers. “What? Why does Mjölnir want to speak to me?”

Thor shrugs, an uncharacteristic gesture from the Nordic god. “I am uncertain as to Mjölnir’s intentions, but she is insistent that I take her to you.”

“She doesn’t want to spar, does she? ‘Cos I’m still recovering from our last training session.” Tony sounds skeptical, and considering his injuries there’s no way he’d be fit to fight— wait.

Steve cocks his head as he lets that information sink in. Tony and Thor have been training? With Mjölnir? For a second, the super soldier didn’t know who to be jealous of more — his teammate or his teammate’s sentient weapon?

God, that sentence shouldn’t even make sense.

“No, she wants to talk,” he hears Thor say reassuringly. “I believe she’s concerned for your welfare and only wants to be assured that you’re fine herself.”

Much to his surprise, Tony groans. “Great, another — person? Thing? — to mollycoddle me. I’m fine, Thor. Jesus, it’s bad enough America’s Ass over there is hovering over me. I really don’t think this is necessary. Can’t you just tell Mjölnir that I’m perfectly alright and she should stop worrying?”

“America’s Ass?” Steve’s brain short-circuited for the second time that night because what?

Tony meets his dazed expression with a smug smirk as the genius shrugs and states, “Have you seen yourself from behind, honey? I love your ass. It’s gorgeous, a national treasure, in my humble opinion.”

“Your ass is gorgeous,” Steve retaliates dumbly. He knows it’s a weak one, but his mind is still repeating the part where Tony just admitted he loves his ass, even if the latter’s smirk melts into a bashful expression.

Thor glances at them with amusement. When a minute passes and nobody has spoken a word, the Asgardian huffs out in exasperation before setting Mjölnir down on top of a StarkPad. Steve knows that Thor is aware that Tony will react negatively to it because you don’t set heavy objects on top of a delicate tech, for fuck’s sake.

“God fucking damn it, Thor,” Tony enunciates with an irritated sigh.

“Talk to her, Tony. There’s no harm in doing so,” Thor says softly. Then, with one last pat on the shoulder and a nod at Steve, the Asgardian turns and walks out of the workshop.

“So,” Steve draws out the vowel when Tony doesn’t make a move to touch or lift the war-hammer, even if it’s on top of his tech.

“Hmm?”

“It’s considered rude to keep a lady waiting,” Steve remarks innocently.

Tony doesn’t bother to give him an answer except to roll his eyes and flip him off. Steve laughs, but it abruptly cuts off when Tony finally make a move.

The way the genius grasps the handle of Mjölnir is one borne of ease and familiarity, as if he’s been wielding god-like weapons his whole life. Steve looks on in wonder as Tony lifts the hammer. He discerns sparks of lightning surrounding the weapon and Tony’s hand, and if the super soldier had to guess it looked like an affectionate gesture from Mjölnir. Mouth hanging open at the sight before him, one he’s secretly hoped to witness for months, Steve welcomes the feeling of pride and joy that washes over him. Pulled from his thoughts by the sound of Tony snorting, Steve spots the brunet shaking his head, a look of fond exasperation crossing over his face as he leans his hip against the edge of the worktable.

Steve, aware that his teammate is currently having an internal conversation with a sentient weapon (good God, how is this his life? The future is inexplicable), the super soldier elects to continue perusing the blueprints scattered over the table before him. He picks up one of the prototypes for Nat’s Widow Bites and inspects the sleek design. He’s fiddling with one of the arrows Tony designed for Clint ten minutes later when he hears a loud exhale.

Steve looks up in time to see Tony, back turned to him, gently settling the hammer down on the workbench.

“How’d it go?” he asks lightly, still in high spirits because he finally witnessed Tony wield Mjölnir. Steve won’t admit it out loud, and thinking about it is enough to make him turn red as a tomato, but he realized just then that the image of his stubborn genius grasping Mjölnir in his hand turns him on. Steve coughs and mentally shakes his head, cursing himself for getting aroused at the most inopportune time. Again. He clears his throat and continues. “Mjölnir ripped you a new one? I won’t be surprised if she did, though.”

“Steve…”

With a heavy sigh, Tony turns around to look at him, and the expression on his face makes the super soldier’s cheerful mood plummet.

He knows that look. He’s seen that look on Tony’s face more than he would like, and personally he loathes that expression. That look should never have graced Tony’s face in the first place. Fortunately, Steve’s also a stubborn man; if he has to spend the rest of his life making Tony see that he is a person of value and worth, that there are so many people who love and care about him, then Steve will make it his mission to do so. Because if there’s one thing that he can’t stand, it’s to see the man he loves suffer in silence over his fears and insecurities.

Not when Steve and the rest of the team — also Pepper, Rhodey, Happy, JARVIS and the bots, and now Mjölnir — know otherwise. Not when Steve can do something about it.

Fuck, he should’ve done this a long time ago. Why is it that when it comes to his personal relationships, he always wait for things to get worse before he starts to take action?

Steve gathers his thoughts before abandoning the worktable to walk to Tony’s side. Once he’s next to him, Steve hesitates for a fraction of a second before thinking, fuck it. Throwing all caution to the wind and relying only on the hope that Tony won’t kick him out or, worse, lash out — he slowly takes Tony’s smaller, more calloused hand in his.

“Hey,” he says in a hushed tone.

When Tony doesn’t pull away but blinks owlishly and looks up at him in shock at the gesture, it bolsters Steve’s confidence and he steps a few inches closer to the genius until their chests are half a foot apart.

“Hey yourself,” Tony answers just as quietly. He attempts to smile but it falls flat.

Up close, Steve can see the freckles that lightly dusts over Tony’s nose. His long lashes flutter as he evenly meets the super soldier’s steady gaze, whiskey-colored eyes suspiciously bright with emotion. Heart thumping like a drum against his chest, because he’s never been this close to Tony like this, Steve reminds himself to breathe and focus on the matter at hand.

“I know that look,” Steve remarks quietly. “I’ve seen that look more often than I want to, and it hurts every time I catch a glimpse of that expression on your face. I know you, Tony, and you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. I won’t even pretend to know or understand what’s bothering you, but I — I worry about you. We all do. All the time. And I, I just want to help you, in any way I can. If you’ll let me, that is.”

Like the flip of a switch, Tony’s expression turns sour, his mouth twisting into a sharp smile while his eyes harden in anger. The words that escape his mouth are like a punch to the gut as he hisses them at Steve.

“Sorry to be a disappointment, Rogers. I’m perfectly aware that I’ve got a laundry list of issues. Some days I hide it well, some days I don’t. And I’m so fucking sick and tired of everyone treating me like I’m like some delicate piece of china that’s gonna break every five fucking minutes. You may claim to know me, but as a matter of fact you don’t. None of you do, so don’t pretend that you’ve got me all figured out because let me be frank with you: I’ll never be the person you want me to be so don’t expect that you can mold me into someone that you deem fit. Howard tried doing that, Obadiah attempted several times. Hell, even Pepper and Rhodey tried to change me, and they’re the two most important people in my life. None of them succeeded, because you know why? I’m fucked up! Damaged goods or whatever. So you better get that fantasy out of your head, Cap. Just because we got something going on doesn’t mean you’re gonna be my knight in shining fucking armor and be the person to save me from myself.”

Tony is heaving deeply by the end of his impassioned speech, and Steve’s heart is thumping so hard against his chest. His hurt at the genius’s words must’ve shown on his face because as quick as Tony’s temper flared, it dissolved in an instant as shame and remorse warred over his features.

“Steve, I-I’m,” Tony stammers helplessly. “Fuck. I didn’t— it’s just. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, honey—”

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Steve tightens his grip on Tony’s hand when the other man tries to pull his hand away. Meeting Tony’s eyes that’s full of regret, Steve takes a deep breath and allows himself a few seconds to gather his thoughts before he speaks.

“I’m the one who’s sorry.” Tony blinks in shock, but Steve carries on, shifting to take Tony’s other hand in his and entwining their fingers together. Funny, that the first time he makes a move like this, it’s in the middle of an argument. “I didn’t mean— I never meant to offend or belittle you because that’s the last thing I’d ever do to you, Tony. God, it’s been a crazy night and I probably didn’t verbalize my thoughts properly, so, uh, let me try again?” At Tony’s cautious nod, Steve lets out a breath in relief and lightly squeezes his fingers before he soldiers on. “The thing is, Tony: I do know you. Well, I know all the parts you’ve shown us all these years, and yeah, I may not know you as well as Rhodey and Pepper, but I like to think that what I’ve garnered from my own interactions with you all these years is as just valid. The point I was trying to make earlier is that though you may choose to shoulder your problems on your own because they are your problems and it’s your business, I respect that — I want you to know that that’s not your only option. You have the team behind your back and by your side. Yes, you fight your battles and you do so beautifully and admirably. But you should, you have to know, that you also have us to count on. You’re family, Tony, and that means we get to help you carry your burdens, too. It, it honestly hurts me to see you like this, not because I pity you and would want to take all your pain away — though I’d do that in a heartbeat if I could — but because you can’t see how much we appreciate and adore you. It’s not the money or the tech, or even the amazing living accommodations you’ve given us — although they’re all amazing and I can’t thank you enough for all of that and more — but it’s you. You, Tony Stark, are valued. And I hope that one day you’ll see yourself the way I see you.”

“Steve,” Tony utters in a gravelly voice, hope and fear and longing evident in his whiskey-colored eyes, and all Steve wants to do is take this stubborn genius in his arms and never let him go.

Oh, and before he forgets —

“For the record,” Steve adds, eyes boring into Tony’s with earnestness. He squeezes the latter’s fingers a second time, pleasantly surprised when Tony squeezes back with a wavering smile. With a deep breath, he finally decides to lay down all his cards on the table. “The only version I want you to be is already standing in front of me. I like you, and want you, just as you are.”

If possible, Tony’s already vulnerable expression slackens when his mouth hangs open in shock at Steve’s declaration. Stomach fluttering with nerves and his heart in his throat, Steve forces himself not to break eye contact. His hands have become sweaty, but since Tony is still clutching onto his fingers like a lifeline, he doesn’t let go. Not like he wants to, to be honest.

Whatever happens next, Steve desperately hopes that he still gets to have this. Even if Tony decides that he doesn’t want to explore whatever has grown between them, Steve would push through the heartbreak and choose to remain friends with the genius rather than lose him. Because losing Tony would mean losing a part of Steve — the part that has grown to accept and love the future. He considers Tony his anchor because it was the eccentric genius who helped him the most to adjust to the twenty-first century.

The silence lasts for a minute, maybe more, before Tony reacts. He hears the shorter man breathe out shakily, jaw snapping shut as he blinks several times. Steve patiently stands and allows Tony to gather his bearings. If their roles were reversed and it was Tony who poured his heart out to Steve, the super soldier would most likely react the same.

“Did you know that almost everyone in the team has given me a similar speech?” Tony finally says, his voice thick. When Steve shakes his head, confusion and curiosity evident on his face, the genius continues with a humorless laugh. “Yeah, well, believe it. Every time I lift Mjölnir, I get the same kind of speech. Clint was too stunned to form a coherent sentence that time, but he told me later that he hopes I finally get my head out of my ass. Nat was severely injured so she couldn’t say much ‘cos of the painkillers, but she had a chat with me afterwards. Bruce had this long, impassioned speech, and it was the longest he ever spoke at a time that wasn’t related to science or tea. Then there’s Thor who chooses to ‘honor my worthiness’ by training me to fight using Mjölnir. Like I’m gonna use her in a fight when I got my suit.”

“What exactly are you trying to say?” Steve cocks his head, brows furrowed in confusion even as his mouth stretches into a smile. He wasn’t aware that their teammates gave Tony a similar pep talk, however he’s not surprised that they did. They’ve all seen how self-destructive the genius can be, and Steve supposes they also considered it their responsibility to look after Tony in their own way.

Smiling wryly, Tony ducks his head and shrugs helplessly. “I have decades’ worth of issues to overcome. I’m not gonna feel better about myself overnight ‘cos of a couple of heartfelt speeches. I’m not gonna wake up tomorrow and finally believe that I’m that person you guys preach about. But I suppose, what I’m trying to say is that… I want to believe you, all of you. I want to believe all those things. But it’s going to take some time. Like, a horribly long time, for me to come to terms with it. I mean, fuck, there’s no guarantee that I will. But I want to try.”

“Healing is a long process, and the first step is always the hardest,” Steve gently imparts. He closes the remaining distance left until their chests touch, hands entwined by their sides. “This isn’t a race, Tony; there’s no deadline for this, either. We’re here for you, every step of the way, so take as much time as you need, okay?”

Tony nods, and the smile that slowly blooms on his face — small but genuine, making the corners of his eyes crinkle adorably — takes Steve’s breath away.

“You really do have a way with speeches,” the genius mumbles teasingly, ducking his head and leaning forward until his face is buried against Steve’s broad chest.

Steve gives a short laugh before he tips his face to brush a kiss on the crown of Tony’s head. He breathes in the familiar, comforting scent that’s pure Tony, and he feels the shorter man exhale shakily before he squeezes Steve’s fingers once more.

“Thank you.” The words are mumbled unintelligibly, but the weight that phrase carries speaks a lot.

Steve smiles against Tony’s dark locks, pressing another lingering kiss before he simply says, “You’re welcome.”

They remain in that position for some time, Steve basking in the affection and trust Tony has bestowed upon him until JARVIS informs them that the food has arrived and their teammates are impatiently waiting for them to join them in the living room.

Steve reluctantly steps back, already missing the closeness as he lets his fingers slip free from Tony’s. The latter quickly walks to the small bathroom situated in the corner of the workshop so he can change out of his undersuit. It only takes a few minutes before Tony comes out dressed in faded jeans and a grey MIT sweater. When he reaches Steve’s side, who didn’t move from his position, Tony doesn’t hesitate to reach out and tangle his calloused fingers around Steve’s left hand. The super soldier blinks, startled but secretly delighted at the bold gesture. Tony doesn’t say anything so Steve keeps his mouth shut, however he takes great pleasure in seeing the genius blush, the tips of his ears pink.

With one hand wrapped around Steve’s, he stares in joy when Tony takes hold of Mjölnir in his other hand. Steve knows he’ll never tire of that sight, either.

Together, they exit the workshop to enter the elevator that’s waiting for them, courtesy of JARVIS. They’re silent as the cable starts to ascend to the common area, shoulders touching and hands clasped tightly between them.

After a few seconds of silence, Steve clears his throat and waits until Tony meets his eyes.

“I was wondering,” he starts nervously. “I mean, that is if you’re interested. You can say no, of course, and I’d completely understand if you’re not — I mean. Uh, do you wanna have dinner with— with me? Sometime this week? Or whenever your schedule allows. But, yeah. Dinner? Just us?”

Tony gapes at him for a moment, eyes wide as he silently ponders Steve’s question until —

“You mean… like a date?”

“Exactly like a date,” Steve confirms quickly, and he flushes at his emphatic response.

Then Tony beams at him, and it’s such a dazzling smile that it makes Steve’s heart soar and expand at the same time. God, how much he loves this beautiful, stubborn, brilliant man.

“Yeah. I’d love that,” Tony pronounces, sounding a tad breathless. The tenderness in his whiskey-colored eyes makes Steve a little weak in the knees. “I look forward to it.”

“Me, too,” Steve concurs, not caring in the slightest that he’s smiling sappily at the other man.

After all, he has a date to plan and a man to woo.

Chapter Text

Tony meant it when he told Steve that he wasn’t going to magically heal or feel better about himself after the rousing speeches he received from their teammates. But then again, hindsight is 20/20 as it occurred to him several weeks later that what Steve said about the first step towards healing being the hardest was true.

When Mjölnir first spoke to him that fateful night he first lifted her — god, it felt like a lifetime ago, just thinking about it — to say that Tony was shocked at that discovery would be the understatement of the century. Accepting the truth of his ability to wield Mjölnir didn’t take him long, but accepting his worthiness — that he was validated not only by an alien weapon forged in the heart of a dying star, but also by his teammates, his family — took longer. Tony won’t admit it to anyone but himself, but having that fact hammered — pun definitely intended — into his thick skull countless times over the past couple of months has certainly helped him deal with his demons.

Don’t get him wrong. It’s still difficult to come to grips with it, and some days he regrets ever entertaining those kind of thoughts about himself because he doesn’t deserve it, god, he’s a fuck-up and he’s damaged. But every time he finds himself in the gym with the war-hammer, the sentient being distracting him from his self-destructive thoughts by training him on how to best utilize her in a fight, Tony almost always ends up thinking that there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. That one day, he’s going to wake up and feel less like the man he’s been most of his life and start to feel more like the person he wants and strives to become.

His journey to accepting his worth is also a testament to how much Tony has grown comfortable in wielding Mjölnir that Thor (and probably JARVIS, come to think of it) has taken it upon himself to conveniently leave his weapon in the common area whenever the genius finds himself seeking her.

You’re becoming more confident, Anthony, Mjölnir tells him one day in the middle of a training session. Your stance still needs some work, otherwise your improvement grows day by day. I’m proud of you.

Tony blushes, thankful that it’s just the two of them. He caresses the hammer’s face with a fondly exasperated look. Yeah yeah, I have a great teacher, after all.

If it’s even possible, Mjölnir snorts and answers, Don’t sell yourself short, my friend. It will not take long until you will be prepared to fight with me should the opportunity comes.

Tony frowns, perplexed at the confidence he sensed in her tone. Not to burst your proverbial bubble, M, but I’ve got a gold-titanium suit of armor. Besides, I’m not gonna let Thor fight weaponless in battle, even if he’s a god. He still needs you.

Oh, I’m perfectly aware of that, but you can never predict the future, Anthony. Even if you happen to be a futurist.

Doubtful that the day he uses Mjölnir in a fight in public will come, Tony doesn’t bother to give her a response, only to roll his eyes and carry on with their training. Just the mere thought of it is laughable, really.

All things considered, that wasn’t the only positive change that occurred in the Tower.

After going on a total of twelve dates in the span of six weeks, Tony is astonished at the pace of his newfound relationship with Steve. If it were somebody else, the genius wouldn’t have hesitated to bed them after the first date. Somehow, because it’s Steve, and Tony is undoubtedly enamored with the man, he doesn’t mind taking it slow. In fact, he prefers the pace they’re taking, and Tony thinks it’s a breath of fresh air from the usual approach he takes with his partners. The difference between them and Steve is that this time, Tony knows it’s long-term. Their physical intimacy has mostly consisted of heavy make-out sessions, a little groping, and some necking.

And Tony is honestly okay with it.

With Steve, he feels like he’s not partaking in a race against time. They’re both perfectly aware of their lifestyle, being superheroes and all, and they know that there’s no guarantee for their future. But in spite of all that, Tony is two hundred percent certain that what he has with the super soldier will last. Hell, they’re still building whatever this is between them, but Tony knows without a shadow of a doubt that he’s in this for the long haul. They both are, and that thought — that absolute truth — is what keeps him going. Call it motivation, call it another reason to get up in the morning, but it is what it is. And what it is, to Tony, is the most essential part of his life.

His company. His friends. His bots.

The Avengers.

Steve.

They are the ones who give Tony hope. Hope to believe in himself — that the person he once was isn’t the person who he is now — that he’s changed, and is a human being worthy of deserving good things in his life. And yeah, while he still has his doubts, he’s no longer afraid to face his fears alone. He has been informed constantly these past several months — fuck, make it years, considering Pepper, Rhodey, and Happy have been in his life the longest — that he isn’t alone. That he’s a good man — though that thought’s still a harder pill to swallow — and worthy of having good things. He no longer has to shoulder the weight of the world’s problems on his own should he choose to because he has his team, his family, by his side. Tony has their friendship and support, and it’s then he realized he’s never felt this assured in his life.

So between dates, board meetings, engineering binges, training with his team — and on occasion with Mjölnhir — plus saving the world every other week, the futurist in him thinks that all the pieces will fall into place eventually. On top of that, the hopeful optimistic part of him also thinks that the best is yet to come.

What could go wrong, right?

Ha. Famous last words.

“J, what’s the sitch?” Tony inquires as he exits the building amidst the screaming and scrambling civilians.

“A portal has opened near the Empire State Building and further scanning from our satellites indicate that one Leviathan has passed through,” JARVIS responds promptly.

Fuck. Shit fucking fuck, it’s like 2012 all over again, Tony thinks grimly as he begins to run towards the direction the people are running away from. His one o’clock meeting ended on time just when the genius first heard the ruckus happening outside. Thankfully, the building he came from is only a few blocks away from where the portal has opened.

“Raise the necessary alarms, J,” Tony huffs out as he dodges past a group of teenagers. “And send the Mark 35 along as well.”

“I have already alerted SHIELD of the situation and have sounded the alarm at Avengers Tower,” JARVIS replies. “Captain Rogers has informed me they are en route to the location and will arrive in five minutes. Mr. Odinson has also been notified and will arrive via the Bifrost. The suit has also been deployed and will reach you in two minutes.”

“Thanks, buddy.”

Unfortunately, until his suit and the team arrives, all Tony has with him are his wrist gauntlets. And since there is already one Leviathan in New York, with more approaching for sure, fuck, there isn’t much he can do to fight off the army of Chitauri. Still, never let it be said that Tony will go down without a fight, because if there’s one thing the genius is, is that he’s a stubborn fighter ’till the very end. Sooner than he realized, he reaches the corner of 34th street and is greeted with the horrible sight of an enemy they once conquered four years ago.

Swallowing past the tightness in his throat when his gaze lands on the portal several hundred feet above them, Tony’s mind flashes back to the dark void of space and the sight of hundreds of those ugly creatures before the nuke decimated them. He grits his teeth and banishes those memories away before he pushes through the crowd. Tony discards his grey suit jacket then loosens and tosses the burgundy tie over his shoulder before he activates his wrist gauntlets. The Leviathan is gliding several hundred feet above while hordes of Chitauri rappel to the sides of the buildings, shattered windows and crumbling rubble falling to the ground where people continue to run for their lives.

“J, where are they?” Tony inquires as he jumps on the roof of an abandoned taxi and starts shooting repulsor blasts at the aliens closest to him.

“The quinjet is less than three minutes away, sir,” JARVIS answers. “Mark 35 is incoming in thirty seconds.”

“About damn time,” Tony mutters in relief.

He jumps from the taxi in time to avoid a blast from the energy-based weapon the Chitauri are equipped with. Landing lightly on his feet, he eyes at least a dozen of them approaching him from all sides, and Tony doesn’t hesitate to utilize the one-time only laser. Moments later multiple bodies drop to the ground, and at the same time he hears the telltale whirring of his suit approaching. Thanking all the deities he could think of in that moment, Tony deactivates the wrist gauntlets before leaping into position as the suit wraps around him like a glove. The HUD comes online and, now patched through the team’s communications system, Tony instantly makes his presence known as he shoots to the sky and takes down a dozen more Chitauri in his wake.

“Where you slow pokes at?” He starts by way of greeting. “You’re missing all the fun in this party.”

“You really need to alter your definition of ‘party’, Stark,” Natasha quips dryly, which only causes Tony to grin.

“Hey, Tony,” Steve greets, somehow sounding fond and reprimanding at the same time. “How you holding up?”

“Hey, honey,” Tony answers sweetly, and though he’s in the midst of battle he can’t help the flutter in his chest upon hearing his boyfriend’s — they’re boyfriends, gosh it’s like he’s back to feeling like a pubescent teenager — voice. “All good here, but it’s not as fun without you guys.”

There are four resounding snorts over the comms after that declaration.

“I’m having déjà vu, guys,” Clint says next. “How the fuck did they even manage to open a portal?”

“Beats me, but I really hope Rock of Ages doesn’t make an appearance.”

There’s a brief silence over the comms as they all shudder at the mere thought of Loki being present at the battle today. Yeah, that’s something Tony doesn’t want to happen, thanks very much.

“The Other Guy would gladly smash him around again,” Bruce remarks, and there’s an underlying note of promise in his tone.

“Which brings me to my next point,” Tony interjects between huffs of breath as he fires repulsors at the alien bastards about to attack a group of tourists. “It’s like 2012 all over again. Also, since it’s a Thursday — #TBT, team! Go us!”

“I can’t believe that just came out of your mouth,” Clint cackles.

“Moving on,” Steve deadpans with what Tony assumes is with his customary eye roll. “Any idea when Thor is arriving?”

As an answer, they hear the loud rumbling of thunder and the crackle of lightning before the Asgardian comes into view in his typical, outlandish way by sending a bolt of lightning to at least half a dozen Chitauri.

“Good tidings, fellow shield brothers and sister!” Thor’s voice booms enthusiastically, Tony wincing at the loud intonation of his friend over the comms. “What have I missed?”

“You arrived in time, Blondie,” Tony quips. “Now the party can officially begin.”

“You really need to revise your definition of what constitutes as a party,” Natasha sighs.

“We’re comin’ in hot,” Clint announces then. “Cap and Bruce are about to jump off the ramp as we speak.”

“Hulk is excited,” Bruce comments offhandedly before the sound of Hulk roaring comes a second later.

“Cap, please tell me you have a parachute with you this time,” Tony nearly begs. Super soldier or not, he’d rather not see his boyfriend turn into a pancake.

He can perfectly imagine the shit-eating grin on his dear captain’s face when Steve says, “Now where’s the fun in that, Shellhead?”

Just as Tony executes a somersault to avoid another blast of the energy-based guns, he sees the quinjet approaching and a familiar figure dressed in red, white and blue free falling, the sound of Steve whooping in delight clear over the comms.

“Jesus, you’re gonna send me to an early grave, Rogers,” Tony mutters under his breath before firing his thrusters to catch his adrenaline junkie of a boyfriend.

“Knew you were gonna catch me,” Steve says with a wide grin after Tony grabs him around the waist and depositing him safely on the ground. “Thanks, babe.”

“Disgusting,” Natasha says dryly, but there’s a note of amusement in her voice.

“Don’t make me puke my lunch, lovebirds,” Clint adds.

“You’re just jealous, Katniss,” Tony retorts playfully.

Moving in sync, he and Steve stand back to back to fight the onslaught of Chitauri, the clang of Steve’s shield hitting its targets with precision before it soars back to him in time for Tony to swivel and aim his repulsors at the shield, the trajectory of the blast taking down a significant number of their enemy.

“Works like a charm every time,” Tony pronounces, pleased at the result as always.

“Sir, there are two more Leviathan ships escaping through the portal,” JARVIS announces over the team comms. “Hulk is currently engaged with the first Leviathan while Mr. Odinson is clearing the path for the civilians on 5th Avenue.”

“Call it, Cap,” Natasha says then.

“Okay, here’s the plan,” Steve declares in an authoritative tone. “Thor and Iron Man, you’re on aerial support; secure the perimeter and get rid of the Chitauri before they hurt any more people. Widow, I need you with me here on the ground. We gotta aid the rest of the civilians to safety before more can get hurt, or worse. Hawkeye, your usual place as our eye up high — call out patterns when you can. And Hulk? Continue smashing, buddy.”

“Aye, Captain!” Thor exclaims with a loud rumble of thunder overhead.

“Hulk smash good!” Hulk roars in agreement before the sound of metal crushing and whining is heard, followed by the resounding collision of the Leviathan landing on the ruined pavement.

“Man, clean-up’s gonna be a bitch,” Clint remarks.

“Director Fury has informed me that he’s dispatched SHIELD personnel to assist in securing the perimeter and to lend further support under your command, Captain,” JARVIS conveys.

“Any idea when Old Saint Nick’s elves are arriving?” Tony asks as he fires up his thrusters and makes his way to clear 6th Avenue.

“ETA is twenty minutes.”

Silence reigns after that as Tony and the rest of his team becomes occupied with taking down the army of Chitauri. He helps Hulk in taking down the second Leviathan, however more of those alien bastards rappel from the warship.

“Remember that thing we did before, J?” Tony flippantly reminds his AI. “The tale of Jonah?”

“Once again, sir, I must reiterate,” JARVIS answers, resigned. “I wouldn’t consider him a role model.”

Tony snorts, but there’s a grin on his face when he says, “Well, tough luck, buddy.” Then he fires up his thrusters to meet the Leviathan head on. “Once I’m in, unleash all the mini-missiles, J. Bottoms up, asshole.”

The second warship goes down fifteen seconds later, Tony hollering in delight at the success.

Before he knows it, 36th street is cleared of all civilians and Tony finds himself circling back to 34th to get to the portal. If there’s a way that he could close it before more of those Leviathan ships could enter, then all the better.

“I’m gonna check the portal and see if there’s a way we can close it from our side,” Tony announces over the comms. He hears a chorus of agreement before he switches to his private channel. “J, what are your readings on the portal? Any chance we can shut it down before more of those ugly warships come out and play?”

“Reverting back to the previous time we fought them, sir, it is logical to conclude that we can only close the portal by destroying the source from where the device is located. The heat signature is coming strongest from outside the portal. Unless there’s another nuclear missile, chances of closing the portal are slim to none.”

Tony lets that information sink in first before he reacts.

“So the only way to close the portal is to go through it. Again.”

There’s a note of regret in JARVIS’ voice when he says, “I’m afraid so, sir.”
“What if we have Thor hit the source with lightning?”

“Ineffective, sir, unless Mr. Odinson can hold his position for an indeterminate length of time in order to destroy the mothership.”

“Which he can’t.” Fuck.

“Precisely.”

But not all hope is lost, Tony thinks as an idea — a crazy, stupid, foolish idea — suddenly forms in his head. Oh, it’s absolutely insane, he thinks. Insane but effective.

“Well, not everything can be destroyed with a nuke or lightning,” Tony begins slowly.

“Sir?”

“Who needs a nuke or lightning when we have a fully functioning suit with an arc reactor embedded in it?” Tony asks innocently. “It’s perfect, J.”

It takes half a second before his AI draws to the same conclusion as Tony did.

“Sir, that is not an—” JARVIS protests but Tony easily cuts him off, his mind already made up with his harebrained plan.

“Nope, no can do. This is the best option we have, J. I’m not gonna risk any more lives being lost, not when we can do something about it.”

“Sir, this is your only functioning suit. Mark 34 is still in need of repair after the last battle.”

“What about my other back-up suits? I have a ton of them, don’t I?”

“Also in need of repair.”

“All of them?!” Tony gasps in shock. What the hell? How does he not have a back-up suit?

If possible, JARVIS’ voice turns drier as the AI says, “You shifted your checklist in order to prioritize the deadlines for Stark Industries as well as the repairs and upgrades for the team’s gear. It went from number three to number eighteen, sir.”

Tony bites his lower lip as he lands beside an upturned truck. He fires his repulsors at two approaching Chitauri before he replies to his disapproving AI.

“Alright, fine,” he grits out. “I still have my wrist gauntlets with me, plus I’ve been training with the team, so I’m not completely hopeless.”

“Sir—”

“Disengage, J,” Tony swiftly cuts him off again as he punches a Chitauri in the guts before shooting him with a repulsor blast in the face. “Start the countdown for the suit’s self-destruct in two minutes once I’m out of it. That’s an order.” He adds in his sternest tone.

There’s a beat of silence before he hears a terse, “Very well.”

Wincing because he clearly pissed off his concerned AI, Tony forces those thoughts to the back of his mind in order to focus on the more important matter, like save New York from a second alien invasion.

Once he’s stepped out of the suit, Tony activates his wrist gauntlets once more before asking JARVIS to connect him to the team’s comms via his bluetooth earpiece.

“Tony, why the fuck did you step out of your suit?” Clint screeches over the comms once Tony’s connected. “And why is your suit approaching the portal?”

“He what?” Steve asks — demands. “Tony, what the hell?!”

“Okay, I have a very valid reason, and given the dire circumstances, I figured it’s better to ask for forgiveness than to ask permission,” Tony starts to say in a placating tone.

“I hope this ‘very valid reason’ is worth the trouble of you stepping out of your suit right in the middle of a street swarming with Chitauri,” Steve snaps.

Oh god, not this again.

“I’m not a fucking damsel in distress, Steve,” Tony snaps back.

But before he can say anything else, he sees a small herd of Chitauri coming towards him. He shoots a repulsor blast at the nearest before he executes a jumping roundhouse kick at another. He sidesteps the next alien then does a somersault over an upturned taxi to avoid getting hit by the energy-based weapon. In a spike of adrenaline, he runs towards the next alien, successfully blocking the jab that would’ve hit his sternum before he flips them over until the spear-like weapon is in his hands. He fires off one round at the creature, not waiting to see it go down like a sack of potatoes before he swivels to aim and fire at the half dozen Chitauri advancing towards him.

“I actually know self-defense, even before I started training with you lot,” Tony finds himself saying in between grunts. Before Steve, or any of the team, can say anything, the genius presses on as he continues to fight off against the horde of Chitauri who just. Keep. Coming at him. Jesus, they’re never ending. “And as for that reason, there’s no way we can shut the portal down from here. JARVIS said that the heat signature is coming strongest from outside the portal. And seeing that we don’t have a nuke coming this way, the best option is to send my suit towards the mothership and have it self-destruct since, y’know, the suit has an arc reactor in it.”

There’s several moments of tense silence following his tirade, only broken by Clint clearing his throat.

“Yeah, uh, you’re doing pretty well, Tin Man. Cap, no need to get your panties in a twist — Tony’s holding his own just fine. Great moves, too, and really flexible. All that training with Nat paid off, eh?”

“Shut it, Clint,” Nat says, but there’s no heat to her words.

“I’m sorry, babe,” Steve expresses apologetically. Tony blinks, both surprised at the apology and the use of a pet name. “I didn’t mean to — I never thought you were —”

All of a sudden, JARVIS’ voice interrupts whatever Steve was about to say.

“Sir, current readings indicate a rapid increase of the heat signature,” the AI states over the comms, tone becoming graver as he adds, “I believe the mothership is approaching.”

Tony’s brows furrow and, looking around at the still standing Chitauri, his frown deepens as dread coils in his gut. “The two minutes should’ve passed by now. The suit should’ve exploded and destroyed the mothership.”

“It should have, yes,” JARVIS replies haltingly.

Yet the portal is still open.

Yeah, that familiar sense of foreboding is creeping up his spine and Tony is certain he’s not gonna like what’s gonna happen next.

“Let me take a wild guess,” Tony remarks as he starts jogging backwards, away from the portal and the approaching Chitauri. “These asshats figured out what the suit was for, destroyed it before it can reach them, and now there’s more of them coming in.”

A beat, and then, “Yes, sir. Astute observation as always.”

“Oh boy,” Natasha murmurs.

“Oh, god,” Clint adds.

“That does not bode well,” Thor imparts.

“Fuck, I pissed them off even more,” Tony groans.

“Tony, get the hell out of there,” Steve orders, panic evident in his voice. “Let’s regroup at the corner of 33rd street. Thor and Hulk — take down those Leviathan ships before it causes more structural damage. Clint, make contact with SHIELD and alert them that we’ll need all hands on deck.”

Everyone does as they’re told with no questions asked, Thor’s booming voice promising destruction upon their foe. Tony’s jogging soon turns into a full sprint after he glimpses at least three Leviathans coming through the portal, the last one entering the largest he’s ever seen and it’s clear from the sheer size of it that it’s the mothership. Tony races past upturned poles and jumps over slabs of concrete and burning vehicles when he feels the heat of the Chitauri’s weapons whizzing past him. Berating himself for throwing down the same weapon in favor of running, Tony curses again and proceeds to run in a zig zag pattern.

Every now and then he stops and turns to shoot repulso s at the oncoming horde. However, after the fourth time he did that, his aim was cut off by one of the Chitauri’s gun hitting the edge of his left gauntlet. Tossing aside the ruined gauntlet, Tony does his best to take down more Chitauri with his remaining weapon. It doesn’t take long before that goes down as well. Momentarily thrown off at the impact of the energy-based gun, Tony crashes into the side of a Camaro and lands on his ass. He groans as pain shoots up his back before he forces himself to get up, deactivating the destroyed gauntlet and casting it aside in the process. He’ll find it later during clean-up.

No suit, no gauntlets — Tony’s more vulnerable than ever. Lungs burning and energy depleting by the second, he knows he won’t make it to Steve and Nat on time. The Chitauri are still approaching, and it doesn’t take a genius like Tony to figure out why they’re closing in on him in particular. They obviously want his head for what he did to their army four years ago.

Ah, good ol’ fashioned revenge. Too bad Tony’s a stubborn motherfucker because if he’s going down, then he’s going down with style.

And he’ll do that once he finds a suitable weapon to fight with.

Before he can say anything over the comms, he sees Thor’s familiar figure flying overhead and sending a strong surge of lightning towards the oncoming Leviathan ships. In the distance, he can distinctly hear Hulk’s roar as he smashes the creatures left and right. Just then, a conversation from before is thrust into the forefront of his mind.

It will not take long until you will be prepared to fight with me should the opportunity comes.

Mjölnir.

Holy shit, Tony thinks. Well, looks like that opportunity has come, even if that means he has to steal Thor’s thunder. No pun intended.

“Thor, buddy,” Tony says over the comms. “I need a huge favor from you.”

“On your six, Tin Man,” Clint’s worried voice cuts in. “Though they’re not even running, more like walking leisurely towards you. What the hell.”

Fuck, these assholes are definitely toying with him like a prey, and that thought just pisses Tony off even more.

“What is it, friend Tony?” Thor’s booming voice comes next.

Tony takes a deep breath and decides to just nip it in the bud. “I know it’s bad timing, but I need to borrow Mjölnir for a while.”

There’s shocked silence over the comms as Tony’s teammates mull over his words.

“Oh.”

“Holy shit,” Clint wheezes in what must be glee in his tone.

“Did you just—” Steve starts, but Thor’s fervent response drowns out the rest.

“Of course! There are only two Leviathan left to destroy. The Hulk and I can deal with it together. Summon her away, Tony!”

Right. Well, that was easier than expected.

“Thanks, buddy.”

Halting in his steps, Tony shifts his stance and thrusts his right hand up in the air. He sees the Chitauri pull up in confusion, but before they can react further, Tony feels the handle of Mjölnir land in his grip. The little bolts of lightning around the face of the war-hammer unfurls past Tony’s right hand until it’s creeping up the whole length of his arm. Power he’s never sensed before in the months since he’s started wielding her courses within Tony, and it’s in that moment he realizes this must be what Thor feels every time he uses her in battle.

And what a mighty feeling it is.

Hello, M, Tony greets.

Hello, Anthony, Mjölnir acknowledges, amusement laced in her tone. I believe your time has come.

Tony chuckles. Oh, yeah. Let’s show these assholes what we got.

Yes, lets, the sentient war-hammer agrees.

He hears voices over the comms but Tony can’t discern what his teammates are saying. Between one breath and the next, he allows a predatory grin to grace his face before he lets pure instinct take over.

Tony thrusts Mjölnir up, calling forth the lightning and directing it at the Chitauri nearest to him. A piercing cry echoes around the genius as the lightning hits its intended targets. Next, he pivots on the spot and redirects the current of electricity at the creatures behind him, racing forward to meet a stray Chitauri head on and countering its — his? Her? Do they even use pronouns? — attack by swinging Mjölnir and hitting the creature in the center of its chest. The Chitauri flies back several feet, taking three others with it before Tony leaps and brings Mjölnir down on the ground. A strong surge of electricity spreads across the ruined concrete and towards the oncoming horde, tendrils of lightning coiling around them and burning them from the inside out.

I can sense hostiles from above, Anthony, Mjölnir — M, as Tony prefers to call her — warns him.

Glancing up, Tony sees more Chitauri advancing towards him from above. Many have leapt to the ground and are sprinting towards Tony, who doesn’t hesitate to hurl Mjölnir at the nearest alien bastard. The hammer hits it right across the chest, Mjölnir not breaking her momentum as she proceeds to take down a dozen more before she soars back to Tony’s outstretched hand.

“Beautiful, M,” Tony gushes fondly. Though he can’t see it, the genius feels a rush of warmth, and he thinks it’s Mjölnir’s way of blushing at the praise.

“Did he just call these alien bastards beautiful?”

“Don’t be stupid, Clint. He was clearly referring to Mjölnir.”

“My dear hammer is, indeed, a beautiful weapon.”

“Y’know, Thor, that sounds really wrong out of context.”

A deep, long-suffering sigh. “Clint.”

“Sorry not sorry.” There’s a pause, and then, “Also, have I mentioned that I got the best seat in the house? ‘Cos lemme tell you, Cap, your boyfriend is lookin’ mighty fine swingin’ Thor’s hammer. The literal one, mind you.”

“What other hammer do you speak of, Clinton? I only have the one which is in Tony’s grasp.”

“Well, Blondie—”

“Oh my God, please stop,” Steve moans.

“Jesus Christ, Barton, shut the fuck up,” Natasha snarls over the comms. “I don’t know whether to be jealous that you get to see Tony in action — great, I’m starting to sound like you — or you get to sit pretty up high. Either you continue calling out patterns or just. Shut. Up.”

“Excuse you, but I’m a lethal bitch sitting pretty up high. Oh, and there’s half a dozen Chitauri comin’ in hot around the corner.”

Tony, who’s in the middle of jumping over the corpse of a Chitauri in order to aim a jumping roundhouse kick at another about to stab him, blinks a few times upon hearing the voices of his teammates over the comms. He absolutely forgot about communicating with them out loud since he started fighting with Mjölnir.

Oops.

“How’re you guys holding up? I’m almost clear here,” Tony announces, surprised to find his voice raspy.

“We’re almost clear here, too,” Steve responds, followed by a grunt and the clang of his vibranium shield hitting its target.

“Hulk and I have yet to defeat the last Leviathan,” Thor pronounces. His statement is supported by Hulk roaring and soaring towards the last ship standing.

Which is the mothership since the damn portal is still open. From the corner of his eye, Tony sees a lone Chitauri limping from behind a broken post several feet from where he’s standing. His eyes almost instantly lands on a piece of sharp, jagged metal that’s probably from one of the shattered vehicles. Tony picks it up, only to toss the metal into the air before swinging Mjölnir. His aim hits the poor bastard in the jugular, body slumping to the ground a second later.

“Clear on 35th,” Nat declares with a huff of breath.

“Assemble on 34th,” Steve adds. “Tony, what’s your status?”

Tony takes in his surroundings one more time before he answers, “I’m clear here, too.” Then he adds, “J, what’s the sitch?”

“Back-up arrived several minutes ago and clean-up on 36th street is well underway,” JARVIS announces. “As Mr. Odinson reported earlier, there’s only one Leviathan remaining.”

Feeling the exhaustion seep into his bones, Tony rolls his shoulders and holds on to what’s left of his energy. Although there’s no doubt that Thor and Hulk can kill the mothership in record time, Tony doesn’t want to risk more vessels going through the portal.

In the distance, he can glimpse his teammates taking down stray Chitauri, and after a quick conversation with Mjölnir, he addresses the Asgardian prince.

“Thor, buddy, d’you mind if I speed things up? I don’t want to risk more of those things coming through the portal.”

He doesn’t have to see the grin on Thor’s face when the Asgardian proclaims, “Not at all, my friend!”

“Right. Okay, great. I’m sending M to you after this so you can pick up Katniss afterwards.”

Tony ignores Clint’s indignant squawk as he shifts his feet so his stance is perfectly balanced. With a loud exhale, Tony thrusts Mjölnir up and calls on the strongest surge of lightning he can muster before directing the current towards the enormous Leviathan. The electrical charge hits it directly on the face, but it doesn’t go down despite Thor and Jolly Green impaling jagged pieces of its metal armor in its body. Gritting his teeth, Tony is briefly distracted when he tastes blood in his mouth, but immediately casts that thought aside in favor of commanding more lightning to hit the serpentine body.

Tony can feel the tingling in his damp and cramping fingers increase. Moisture drips from his temples and nose as his ruined dress shirt clings to his skin like a leech from the amount of sweat he’s produced.

C’mon, M, I need more lightning, Tony thinks almost desperately. Can’t have more of these bastards coming through.

Your mind is in chaos, Anthony, Mjölnir tells him gently. Remember your training. With a clear mind and focused intent, only then you will succeed.

This is some Kung Fu Panda shit right here. But okay, you’re right. Clear mind, focused intent — I can do that, Tony babbles.

Closing his eyes, Tony focuses inward and clears his mind. He does so by concentrating on his breathing — two seconds in, three seconds out. He repeats the process a few more times until the chaos in his mind dissipates. When Tony slowly breathes out for the last time, he finds himself almost calm and grounded in that moment. Next, he opens his eyes and when he calls for more lightning the second time around, he instantly notices the difference.

Electricity crackles around him, the concrete splintering a distant sound as Tony’s vision whites out for a few moments before it clears. Between one breath and the next, Tony hears the ear-splitting sound of the last Leviathan as tendrils of lightning curl around its massive form like tentacles — piercing through the armor and burning its insides as well as the remaining Chitauri onboard.

In the distance, Thor and Hulk’s figures jump from the ship in time to avoid being burned alive, though the former probably won’t be affected.

It’s only when the portal finally, finally closes and Tony discerns the smoldering carcass of the Leviathan plummeting to the ground, when he addresses Mjölnir.

Okay, M, you can go back to Thor now.

Mjölnir vibrates in his hand and answers, You did marvelously, Anthony. Thank you, before she takes to the air once more to reunite with Thor.

Despite the exhaustion making itself known again, Tony feels as light as a feather as he thinks with a dopey smile, Nah. Thank you.

He finds himself stumbling to the ground, but before his knees could hit the pavement he feels strong, familiar arms wrap around his trembling form. Tony catches a whiff of aftershave and tangerines and thinks, Steve.

“St’ve,” Tony slurs, smile widening a fraction. In response, he feels one of Steve’s gloved hands run through his damp hair as dry lips press against his equally damp forehead. “Mmm…”

“Tony, oh Tony,” Steve mutters fervently as he buries his nose in Tony’s hair and inhales deeply. “God, you were amazing. Words won’t even do justice at how amazing you are. I mean, we definitely got some talking to do but, god. I’m so proud of you, baby.”

“‘M proud of me, too,” Tony mumbles, not exactly aware of what he’s saying by this point. All he can feel, hear, and smell is Steve. He’s home.

As he slowly loses consciousness, the last thing Tony remembers is Steve, awe and concern warring over his bright blue eyes as he continues to hold Tony in his arms, a beatific smile on his grimy but beautiful face.

Headlines the next day feature a photo of Tony. It was obviously taken from a professional camera, and whoever took that risky shot deserves a promotion because they perfectly captured the genius’s frame despite his haggard appearance. Grey slacks torn and singed, white dress shirt smeared with dirt and blood as the thin material clings to his skin, thus proudly displaying his lean, sculpted arms, toned chest, and six-pack; hair wind-blown and grimy face fixed in a determined expression as he faces against a horde of Chitauri.

In the image that’s been retweeted more than half a million times and liked five million times on Instagram, Tony’s dominant arm that’s wielding Mjölnir is thrust towards the sky, his posture taut and brown doe-like eyes hidden behind an intense blue-white light as tendrils of lightning curl around his form.

Around the world, people had reached a consensus and started trending different hashtags like #DemigodStark, #ThunderStark, #MightyIronMan, and #BAMFTonyStark. And yet, among the hundreds of hashtags generated within twenty-four hours, the most popular that the netizens use is #TonyStarkIsWorthy.

His teammates, especially Steve who hasn’t left his bedside in the Tower’s med-bay following the intense battle, had excitedly showed him video reactions and tweets of Tony wielding Mjölnir. Apparently expending that much effort and energy using Mjölnir had completely drained the genius, who only woke up after losing consciousness for almost fourteen hours.

To say that Tony was shocked at the public’s reaction is a huge understatement. CNN, BBC, Fox News, and several other broadcasting channels around the world continuously air the same footages (obviously taken from mobile phones) showing Tony and the Avengers fighting against the Chitauri, the most frequent video being played obviously the one where Tony unleashes the most powerful lighting on the gigantic Leviathan. According to Clint and Nat, even Fury was rendered speechless for several minutes after he saw the footage of Tony wielding Mjölnir. Too bad neither Avenger had their StarkPhone with them because Tony would’ve loved to see the slackened expression on the stern SHIELD Director’s face for once.

“Any chance people will get over this sooner than later?” Tony asks once they finished recounting what he’s missed since then.

It’s one thing to have your family and friends constantly remind you of your worth, and it’s another to have the whole world bear witness to him wielding Mjölnir, a feat only achieved by an alien god, and have them sing his praises. It’s such a weird fucking reality he’s living now, and to be honest Tony doesn’t know how to cope with that much enthusiastic and positive response. It’s like waking up in the twilight zone.

But one thing’s for sure: this much good press will certainly increase Stark Industries’ stocks, thus keeping the board of directors happy and off his radar for several weeks, which Tony prefers and considers a blessing in disguise.

“Not a chance in hell,” Clint answers with a shit-eating grin as he scrolls through his Twitter feed using the latest StarkPhone. “Give it a couple more weeks. Or months.”

Tony shrugs one shoulder. “Fair enough. It could’ve gone worse, to be honest. And besides, I’m used to being in the limelight, anyway, it’s just…” He trails off with another shrug.

Steve reaches out and threads his fingers with Tony’s right hand, and Tony looks at him through his lashes with a sheepish smile, gently squeezing the super soldier’s hand in thanks.

“For once you’re getting good press, and it’s not just your typical breaking news, either,” Natasha finishes for him with a smug smirk.

To help her case, Bruce interjects with an easy smile. “Seven billion people got to see you wield a war-hammer created solely for a god, and everyone’s shitting their pants because who they once assumed to be a harbinger of death and destruction actually turns out to be the worthiest of them all. Just saying,” the mild-mannered scientist adds with a shrug.

“Indeed, Tony,” Thor adds who’s beaming widely at Tony. “In Asgard, warriors are often celebrated for our achievements in defeating our enemies. It is not so different here on Earth. Your valiant efforts deserve to be praised and celebrated, my friend, and my dear hammer agrees.”

Well, a lot of things could’ve gone wrong, and in the grand scheme of things it’s a small price to pay. Still, Tony can’t help but groan, much to his teammates’ amusement. He hears Steve chuckle beside him before leaning over to press a lingering kiss on Tony’s temple.

“Accept it, babe,” the blond mutters against Tony’s cheek as he presses another kiss. “We’ve always known you’re worthy. It’s just now the rest of the world is finally aware of it, too.”

“Aye,” Thor nods. “Mjölnir has always found you worthy. She has longed to reach out to you but couldn’t. It was only fate that you accidentally wielded her.”

Natasha, Bruce, and Steve hum in agreement.

“It feels like a lifetime since that day you first wielded Mjölnir,” Clint remarks with a faraway look. “Man, that was such an epic moment.”

Tony’s brows furrow in confusion. “What?”

Clint stares at him with a raised eyebrow. “Y’know, that day we were both in the kitchen and I asked you to put the milk back in the fridge. Then you thrust your hand out and then Mjölnir, well, flew to you.”

Tony’s blank expression clears as realization dawned on him.

Oh, right. They didn’t know. None of them did, except for Thor, obviously.

“That day wasn’t the first time I wielded M,” Tony reveals lightheartedly, relishing in the view of their jaws dropping open in shock at his words. Rubbing his neck, a trait he likely adapted from Steve, Tony continues. “Yeah, the first time it happened was nearly three weeks before that day, and I did it by accident."

“How could you have wielded Mjölnir by accident?” Bruce asks, stunned.

Tony shrugs. “DUM-E broke the coffee pot, and I wanted coffee so I went to the kitchen to make some. I was past the point of functioning like a human being that night that I accidentally grabbed M instead of the coffee pot.”

“Sir was working for fifty-eight hours straight that time with little to no nutrition and an unhealthy amount of caffeine,” JARVIS offers then, the traitor.

Before Tony can make a quip about donating his AI to a call center, he hears Steve chuckle beside him. He looks at his boyfriend and pretends to pout, only to have the blond lean over and kiss his cheek.

“Only you would end up in that kind of situation,” Steve remarks with a shake of his head.

“All this time you knew you could lift Mjölnir, yet you never said a thing,” Clint adds, head tilted in curiosity.

“I didn’t think it mattered,” Tony says self-deprecatingly. He would never admit out loud that that night opened doors for him. Doors that he didn’t know existed until that fateful night.

“It does now,” Steve says with a tender expression.

“Yeah. It does,” Tony admits with a small smile.

His smile widens into a beam when Steve leans forward to press a chaste kiss to his lips. Not wanting to lose that contact just yet, Tony turns and brings up his free hand to curl his fingers around the back of Steve's neck, meeting his lips a second time and deepening the kiss. Oh, how much he’s missed this.

Ignoring their friends’ half-hearted complaints about the display of affection (Clint is obviously taking pictures, the bastard), Tony feels Steve’s mouth stretch into a grin against his as the blond mutters, “Have dinner with me tonight? I gotta show my favorite fella just how much I appreciate him.”

Tony feels his face grow warm, eyes crinkling at how wide he’s smiling now, but he nips Steve’s lower lip and mutters back, “Sure, honey. Looking forward to it.”