What are you doing here?

Are you lost?

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Avengers Fic: The Best of Life and Asgard, pt. 2

((Warning: This story will contain sexual situations involving individuals under the influence of alcohol, and thus are not capable of full informed consent.  All sexual situations will involve established partners who would likely be getting it on with or without the alcohol, but please use caution with respect to your own  comfort level.  Also, this story will be very silly.  I need silly right now.

The first part can be found here: http://scifigrl47.tumblr.com/post/39391191226/avengers-fic-the-best-of-life-and-asgard-pt-1 ))

“Okay, the important thing is that we all remain calm,” Tony said. He paused. “Mostly me. It’s important that I remain calm.”

There was a moment of silence. “Your attempts appear to be less than successful,” Thor pointed out.

“I would like you to not call attention to that.” Tony choked on a yelp as Steve’s arms closed tight around his waist, lifting him bodily from the floor. “Or this. Don’t call attention to this, either.”

“As you wish,” Thor said, grinning at him. “It is hard to miss, however.”

Tony tried to glare at him, but it wasn’t particularly effective. It was hard to be intimidating when he couldn’t quite manage to get his feet back on the ground. Or when he was pretty damn sure that Steve was sniffing his hair. When Steve sobered up, the two of them were going to have a discussion about this.

“Have we a plan?” Lady Sif asked, because she was a practical sort of lady. Practical and cheerful and with a core of steel that Tony respected. It was she who had made their excuses to their hosts while Thor collected the Warriors Three and gathered everyone here.

She hadn’t so much as blinked at the tableau they’d presented. Tony was impressed by that. Between Clint and Phil canoodling on the couch, Hulk snoring away on the floor, Jane and Darcy doing a cancan style dance with Natasha singing in off-key French, and Steve attempting to get what remained of Tony’s clothes off, it was clear that the situation was completely out of control. Sif had merely arched an eyebrow and hiked up her skirt with one hand, stepping delicately over Hulk’s limp arm and catching a vase that Darcy had decided to throw across the room.

Tony liked Sif. A lot.

“There’s always a plan. It just might change a couple of times over the course of the next few minutes,” Tony told her. “It’s flexible. Almost, well, liquid.” He paused. “But there’s a plan.”

“But is it a good plan?” Volstagg asked with a broad, honest grin. “Tis a question that must be asked.”

“I make no promises.” Tony took a deep breath and Steve pressed hard against his back. Tony refused to think about the obvious pressure of Steve’s erection, because in that direction lay absolute chaos. “Okay,” he said, reaching back to stroke Steve’s hair. “Here’s what we’re going to do. Thor, you’re going to have to get Hulk moved for us.” He paused. “Let’s hope he sleeps through the trip.”

Thor nodded. “To judge by his snoring, we may have the luck of the ages on our side in this one thing. Volstagg, I may well need your help.”

“Aye!” The large man grinned at them, already shoving the sleeves of his shirt up. His arms were massive, thick with muscle, and his hands were huge. “’Tis a mighty burden, but easy enough for the both of us.”

“I’ll take your word for that.” Tony glanced to the side. “Hogun, Fandral, if you can shove those two on the couch in the right direction, that’ll be wonderful.”

Hogun looked at the couch, where Clint and Coulson were a mess of limbs. He shrugged. Fandral grinned. “That seems an easy enough task.”

“You’d think so, but they’re both remarkably wily, Clint has reflexes that fall somewhere between ‘terrifying’ and ‘unearthly,’ and Coulson once killed someone with a poinsettia.” Tony paused. “So keep him away from the planters.”

“That’s a rumor,” Natasha said, waving her hand in an expansive gesture. She was slumped low in a chair, smiling from beneath the sweep of her hair. She seemed pleased with the world at large, despite the fact that Thor had removed the mead.

“I’m relieved,” Tony said, sardonic. Steve nuzzled his ear, and he twitched.

“It was a cactus. Christmas cactus. One of those ones with the weird spiky red flowers?” she said. “I assume that the holiday greenery got-” She continued speaking, but stopped using English. Tony was pretty sure that was Romanian. Everyone listened politely, but then again, he supposed with the All-Speak, the Asgardians could actually understand her.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Phil said from somewhere underneath Clint, so maybe he understood her, too. Tony was doing his best not to look in that direction; he was pretty sure they were both still decent. By clothing standards. By every other standard, they were distinctly indecent, and Tony had been accused of not having much by way of standards. “It was a bonsai.”

“No,” Clint said, raising his head. He blinked hard, his eyes narrowed as he made an obvious attempt to think. “That was Osaka, not Stavanger.”

“Relief is gone. Okay.” Tony twitched as Steve’s teeth scraped against his ear. He was breathing a little too hard and a little too fast and he was concentrating very hard on the problem at hand and not the fact that he would really like to just find the nearest bed and get Steve’s pants off.

He gave his head a hard shake. It wasn’t going to happen, so he needed to stop thinking about it.

“So, yes, good, keep them away from anything that could be a weapon, and that would be everything, everything is a weapon to these people, it is a problem,” he continued, aware that he was babbling and not much caring. Mostly because Steve was licking his neck. “Just… Keep them from attempting any coups.”

“That would be good,” Hogun said, his voice dry. “And then?”

“And then we get them home and lock them in their rooms until the sober up. Or something, I’ll figure it out. The plan is fluid,” Tony said. “Lady Sif-”

She waved him off, giving him a brilliant smile. “Just Sif is fine. What do you need?”

“If you could just steer Darcy and Jane in the right direction until we’re home, I’d appreciate it.”

Her smile died. “I am as strong as any of the Warriors Three,” she said, eyes narrowing. “And I can handle any of your comrades as well as they.”

“Oh, I get that, but you’re also the only one who can pick up Darcy without attracting Natasha’s wrath,” Tony said.

“It’s true,” Natasha said, her voice languid and silky. “I acquired six new blades tonight, and I’m interested in seeing how they work out for me.” Her head rolled in the general direction of the Warriors Three. “Just so we understand one another.”

Hogun arched an eyebrow, and Fandral nodded with enthusiasm. “Your intent is well understood,” he agreed. Tony had been under Natasha’s withering glare before; he didn’t blame Fandral for folding his hands together over his crotch. It was a natural, and altogether sane, reaction to Natasha at her most terrifying.

“Natasha is the best,” Darcy said to Sif, waving an expansive hand in the air. Jane ducked without even looking in her direction. “Seriously. The best.” She got to her feet, and it took way, way too long, even with Sif’s steadying hand. “Can I paint your toenails?”

Sif blinked. “If you would like,” she said, her voice full of laughter. “Lady Jane? Will you be joining us?”

“Fuck yeah!” Jane said. She grinned at them. “What are we doing?”

“Painting nails, sharpening knives, discussing boys and theoretical physics,” Darcy told her, clinging to Sif’s arm with both hands. “I wanna eat something bad for me. We should do that. We should TOTALLY do that.” Her glasses were crooked on her nose, but her cheeks were flushed and her grin was infectious.

“I’ll have takeout delivered,” Tony told her. “Sif, you’ve got them?”

“Easily enough,” Sif agreed. Darcy went on tiptoes to kiss her on the cheek. Sif gave Darcy a curious look, and Darcy fluttered her eyelashes at her. “Or perhaps not.”

“Welcome to the Avengers. Nothing is easy.” Tony took a deep breath. “All right. Let’s do this thing.”

The Warriors Three were apparently not ones to back down from a fight, and Tony had to appreciate that. It took only a few seconds to get the majority of the group on their feet and moving towards the door. Darcy was catcalling at Clint and Phil, enough to break them apart so Clint could grin at her and Phil could glare at her. Jane wandered back, snuggling against Thor’s side. She played with his hair, distracting him for a second before Darcy grabbed her arm and dragged her away..

Tony made sure everyone was moving, with the exception of Hulk, and then turned his attention to his own problem. “Okay, Steve,” Tony said, his voice wheedling, “let’s put me down now, and we can go home. Right? Doesn’t that sound good?”

Steve buried his face in Tony’s neck and mumbled something against Tony’s skin. Tony sighed, reaching back to stroke Steve’s hair, his fingers sliding easily through the strands. “C’mon, buddy,” he said. “You need a shower, some food, some coffee and a bed.”

Making an unhappy noise, Steve cuddled up against Tony’s back, one of his legs nudging between Tony’s. Tony felt his face heat, and he gritted his teeth. “Okay. Yeah, we need to-” His teeth snapped together as Steve arched his hips into Tony’s back.

Thor was watching them, his face troubled. “Perhaps,” he said, his voice soft, “it is best if you not remain alone with him. He is a great deal stronger than you, when you are without your armor, and he is not himself.”

Tony gave Thor a look. “It’ll be fine.” Steve’s fingers slid under the waistband of his pants, and Tony had to make a grab for his wrist. “It’ll be-” He choked as Steve’s fingertips teased the sensitive skin just below Tony’s belly button. “Okay, ah, no, let’s not-”

Thor shook his head. “If he attempts to hurt you-”

Tony gritted his teeth. “Steve!” he snapped, harsh and sharp. “Stop it! Put me down!”

And just like that, he was on his feet, so fast that he almost lost his balance. Steve retreated, his face twisted in confusion and hurt, his eyes huge. He chewed on his lower lip, his eyes darting between Tony and Thor.

Wincing, Tony reached for him. “Okay, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s okay, you’re fine, I’m sorry, I just needed to make a point, it’s fine, you didn’t do anything wrong. C’mere.” He wrapped his arms around Steve’s shoulders, stroking the nape of his neck. He kept up the soothing clatter of words, until Steve relaxed against him.

“It’s fine,” Tony said to Thor. “He won’t hurt me.”

Thor nodded. “If you need help-”

“I’ll call.” Tony kissed Steve’s jaw, avoiding his mouth because that would be a mistake. Really. A mistake. “How long is this likely to take to wear off? How soon until they start sobering up?”

“We have no experience with this,” Thor said with a shrug. “There is no way to say.”

“Then we’ll treat them like regular drunks until it’s proven otherwise.” Tony met Thor’s uneasy look without flinching. “Look, we’ve got it under control, it’ll be fine. We just have to get them home.” He took a deep breath, and the air smelled like Steve. “Everything is going to be fine.”

“We have a problem,” Fandral said from the door.

Tony resisted the urge to swear. “What?” he asked.

“It’s Clint,” Fandral said, shrugging.

“I do not like this already,” Tony told him.

“He went missing in the hall. We think-” Fandral paused. “He might have-” He sighed. “We think he went up one of the chimneys.”

“Well, fuck,” Tony said, his head falling hard onto Steve’s shoulder. Steve stroked his hair, making a worried noise.

“Was it in use?” Thor asked.

“No,” Fandral said. He paused, his hands braced on the doorframe. “But we can’t convince him to come out. He may have made it to the roof.” He glanced behind him. “The Son of Coul is laughing, and the sound is most disconcerting.”

“You know what? Kill me now,” Tony said.

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew they were the wrong ones. Steve went stiff in his arms, every muscle going taut in a single instant and before Tony could backpedal or take it back, Steve had lifted him off his feet, thrown Tony over his shoulder, and was running for the door.

“Oh, come ON!” Tony yelled, grabbing for Steve’s shirt with both hands, holding on for dear life as Steve sprinted for safety. Or where ever he assumed safety was. “THOR!” he yelled, as much as he could yell with Steve’s shoulder digging into his abdomen, “I’LL BE RIGHT BACK!”

He was starting to really hate mead.

Filed under fic WIP drunken escapades i make poor choices

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