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#like “squint and you can pretend bruce is with a twink”
dangerousdan-dan · 7 months
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wintersoldierland · 5 years
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can’t escape reality
can be read on ao3 here
part of dream au: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4
Tony isn’t surprised when he wakes up in a damp room, bound to a chair, his head pounding. He just takes a look around and sighs.
His eyes are tired and he feels like shit, but he really isn’t surprised that he got kidnapped now. Life is already shit, why wouldn’t it get worse? That’s just how things are for Tony Stark. 
He’s not sure who kidnapped him, just remembers his stupid late-night walk and the sharp pain in the back of his head before everything went dark. Right now he’s getting no clues, as the doom is just damp and warm, with a ratty mattress on the floor and nothing else. It’s a pretty standard kidnapping accommodation, but Tony feels tired and old.
His chest is on fire, his lungs hurt with every breath and his joints ache. He’s getting too old for this shit.
Finally, someone enters the room and Tony raises his head, squinting at the man. 
Predictably, he’s wearing a mask so he gets nothing, but there’s a big gun in his hands and knife at his waist. Tony sighs deeply, already exhausted. He can’t wiggle out of his bonds, they got him good, and he can’t feel any device on him either. He’s truly stuck.
“Iron Man,” the man growls, voice altered by a modulator. Tony tries not to wince.
“That’s me,” he agrees, trying for cheeky and relaxed. He kind of makes it.
“Seems not so wonderful now, hm?” his abductor asks, gloating. Tony rolls his eyes but stays quiet. His chest and ribs are cracked and if they decide to actually torture him, his lungs may not take it. He doesn’t want to risk, not now.
“What do you want?” he asks instead. Usually, it’s money.
“Avengers,” comes the reply. Tony raises an eyebrow, again trying not to wince. “We want Avengers to come.”
“Buddy, I don’t know where you’ve been hiding those last few weeks, but they’ll be happy to leave me here.”
Tony tries to pretend it doesn’t hurt, that the thought of people he considered his family leaving him here doesn’t make his heart squeeze. 
He doesn’t succeed.
“They’ll come. Eventually,” the man replies, cold and unmoved. “Until that time comes…”
Before Tony can react, he feels a sharp pain in his neck and his vision goes hazy. He knows it’s some kind of a fast-acting drug, probably perfected just for this purpose, but he hates how reality starts to slip.
He can feel the man untie him and move him somewhere else, but then everything goes dark and Tony can’t feel anything else.
When the consciousness comes, there’s someone leaning over him, and Tony’s heart goes soft when he realizes who it is.
“James,” he mumbles, smiling gently. It makes his face hurt, probably from the drug, but his husband is here, it’s okay.
“Hey doll,” Bucky whispers, gentle hands grabbing Tony and pulling him into his husband’s arms. He gets held bridal style as they walk out.
He can hear the team taking everyone out, but James only has eyes for him, worried and soft and lovely.
“You scared me, Tony,” Bucky finally says when they’re outside, walking towards the jet. “You just disappeared on us. On me.”
“‘m sorry,” Tony mutters, lips brushing against James’s suit. “Didn’t mean to.”
“I know,” James replies, soothing and soft. “It’s okay. I’m glad you’re safe.”
“Always safe with you,” is what Tony can come up with before he goes to sleep again. This time, he’s safe and warm, held in his husband’s strong arms.
Next time he wakes up, everything is okay.
Tony can smell the detergent and their cologne on the soft sheets, the lavender they both love and use as an air freshener. It smells like them. There’s soft music playing from somewhere and when he stretches, nothing hurts too much. His wrists are tender, but it’s okay. It’ll go away.
He turns to his side and cuddles against James, smiling when his husband holds him close.
“Hey, soldier.”
“Mornin’, baby,” James replies, just as softly.
“I’m fine, you know,” Tony says. He knows what’s haunting Bucky’s mind.
James only holds him closer, and a kiss gets pressed against the top of his head. “Yeah.”
They lay like that for a second, just breathing. Then, the door open and someone throws themselves at the bed. Tony laughs and grabs Peter when their son surges at him.
“You’re fine?” his teenager asks, so fragile and gentle.
Tony nods. “Yeah, spider-baby, I’m fine. Promise.”
“Good. Pops was worried. I was worried.”
Tony’s heart hurts when he hears the vulnerable note in Peter’s voice, and James’s arms wrap around them both.
“I know, Pete,” his husband replies. “Being a superhero sucks sometimes.”
“Yeah.”
Once again, they lay in silence, but it’s comfortable. Both Peter and Bucky produce heat like furnaces, so Tony’s is warm and safe and with his family.
He knows that if he’ll ask Jarvis, his AI will tell him all about the team who is probably either sleeping the mission off or eating breakfast.
“Hey, Jarvis? Tell everyone I’m fine, today is a close family day,” Tony requests. He gets a response quickly.
“Agent Barton would like you to know that he’s wounded because he thought the whole team was close family.”
Tony rolls his eyes and doesn’t reply. Clint has Natasha, he’ll be fine for a day. Instead, he focuses on his husband and spider son, who are nodding off, tangled together. It’s absolutely adorable and Tony doesn’t deny that he tears up a bit.
When they finally wake up for real, it’s 3 pm and Peter and Bucky are hungry. Tony also is kind of hungry, but he’ll never admit it because he’s stubborn and likes the fondly irritated face James makes.
“I want Thai,” he says suddenly, staring at the ceiling. They were discussing sushi, even though they know he only likes it sometimes. Yes, he’s aware that it’s all a ploy. “And a shake. Strawberry.”
James laughs fondly and asks Jarvis to place the order.
At the end of the day, Tony finds himself on the couch, watching as James and Peter sing Dinsey songs and attract the rest of the team. Everyone settles around the room and soon it’s filled with bad singing of iconic Disney songs and the smell of chocolate cake that Bruce made. There are laughter and a few concerned glances in his directions, but it’s fine. Steve sots down right next to him so Tony allows himself to lean against the blonde, knowing that he needs some physical reassurance.
It’s not a bad end of a day that started with a kidnapping.
When the warm dampness seeps through his wonderful evening, Tony knows that something is wrong. Very wrong.
The drug is wearing off.
His eyes shot open and he gasps for breath, looking around the empty room. His heart is hammering and there are tears in his eyes.
He wants to be back there. He wants his husband and his son and his team. He wants Thair and chocolate cakes and Disney songs.
Tony wants his family.
“Hey!” he shouts, voice wet and hoarse. He doesn’t care. “Hey, it wore off!”
Someone finally enters and Tony doesn’t even care how he looks. He doesn’t care it’s his chance to escape. He wants that life back, he needs it.
“Give me more,” Tony demands. He doesn’t care that he sounds crazy, he has a husband and a son waiting for him. They’re going to watch Mulan next, and it has the best songs. “Give me more, it wore off!”
His kidnapper looks at him for a second in silence, probably stunned. “They’re not showing up yet,” he growls, a smirk in his voice.
Tony rolls his eyes. “Yeah, told you so,” he snaps. “Now, chop-chop. More.”
This time he welcomes the sting and the darkness because it slowly goes back to make space for the warm light of a morning above New York.
Tony takes a look at his team, surrounding the newest villain and smiles. Life is good, even if he has to wake up at 4 am to defeat some twink in pyjamas. James is absolutely breathtaking, deadly and brutal and sleek and Tony is glad that no one can see his expression inside the armour because the press would have a field day.
They defeat the guy finally, leave him for SHIELD to take care of and Tony feels good. They did what they had to do and now it’s Natasha’s turn to make dinner because she got the final shot. Though she’s arguing with James, so they’ll share the duty probably.
He’s lucky, though because he gets to shower with James and cuddle a bit before they all gather in the kitchen and Tony gets to watch James cook.
He and Natasha are terrifyingly competent, but it’s a joy to watch how they dance around each other, preparing what looks like chilli con carne. Even Clint gets to work and starts on his weird but tasty “trash cookies” which are just all sweet leftovers thrown together with marshmallows and baked.
It’s terrible for Tony’s blood pressure but oh so good.
Tony sits down with Peter and kind of helps him through his homework, with Bruce chiming in from time to time. Tony never thought he’d get to have this - a family dinner like this, during which he’ll feel relaxed and content and happy.
His life is amazing.
He is aware, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he’s laying on a dirty, ratty mattress on some damp cell, but it only comes sometimes, when he’s thinking too deeply. Usually, he’s focused on his life.
On going to Peter’s science show with James, on bickering with Steve and doing science with Bruce. On the occasional bad guy even.
He’s not sure how much time passes when something starts to nudge him into awakeness. Tony groans and turns to his side. He and James got a late night because there was a small crisis downtown and he’s tired. His body aches in a few places and he wants to sleep.
“Stark,” comes an insistent whisper. “Come on, open your eyes.”
He groans again but finally opens his bleary eyes. 
Above him is a familiar, worried face. Tony smiles when he sees the scared, blue eyes. His mind is hazy but he knows those eyes.
“James?” he asks quietly, having a deja vu moment. The person above him pauses for a second before nodding.
“Yeah, James. Come on.”
Tony just sags against James’s chest as he’s cradled and lets himself rest. Something isn’t right here, something feels off but he’s tired and in pain and James is here, somehow. Solid and warm and familiar.
The James who loves him.
He looks around and frowns when he sees the dead bodies littering the floor and the blood on the walls, but hears nothing.
“Where’s everyone?” Tony mutters, confused. The team is weirdly quiet. He hears a quiet curse before James presses a kiss to his hair.
He smiles again, drunk on love and maybe something else.
“Everythin’ is fine, Tony, just rest. I’ve got ya.”
“Yeah,” he whispers, slipping into sleep. It seems like it’s all he does lately. “I trust you.”
There’s no one he trusts more. This is, after all, his husband.
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