Author's Note: Promised I'd get this up ASAP! Here it is, finally the conclusion to this one. It's been a bumpy road but managed to get through it. Love it or hate it, certainly stirred up a lot of controversy. To those who appreciated and followed along with this I am forever grateful for your support, it's what pushed me to finish this. This last one it for you.



6 months later

"Okay, let's do this right," the big figure muttered as he tromped to the taped mark on the lab floor.

"Start mark, half a meter and to the right," he adjusted the pulsing blue glow strapped to his chest. On his feet large metal boots, a mess of wires and circuitry. His hands sported more metal and wires, a glow resting innocently against his palms.

"Dummy, look alive, you're on standby for fire safety," the robot whirred and clicked, raising the fire extinguisher. Shaking his head Tony turned to his other machine carrying a large video camera. "You, roll it."

Straitening he spoke aloud to JARVIS, "Activate hand controls... okay, we're going start off nice and easy. See if 10% thrust capacity achieves lift."

Settling he held his arms by his side, "In three... two... one..." the thrusters ignited and he felt himself flying very suddenly upwards at a far too rapid rate. The ceiling stopping his unexpected flight rather abruptly. As he ricocheted off before landing heavily on top of his tool chest, where a far to exuberant Dummy abruptly doused him.

Dazed he huffed a pained groan, finally hearing the laughter from the far side of the room. A few seconds later the grinning face of Clint Barton was in his field of vision, "You ok man?"

Tony struggled to sit upwards, his bruised body protesting, "Had worse," he grunted.

Still laughing the archer helped him up, eyeing the contraption strapped to his chest. "What were you trying to do anyway?"

Tony shook white foam from his hair, "Fly," he said casually.

Clint whistled, "Awesome man… for the record, you definitely flew."

The big man found a grin, "I did didn't I?" moving stiffly he navigated towards the computer to recalibrate, ignoring Dummy following him closely in case he spontaneously combusted. Tapping away he watched the information from the test scroll by, "Anything you wanted Clint?"

The blond man joined him idly glancing at the stats he didn't understand; "Yup Steve called me to remind me I'm to drag you to the fundraiser tonight."

Tony froze another pained moan finding it's way up his throat; he'd forgotten about the fundraiser. "Shit," he mumbled rubbing his head.

Clint gave him a sympathetic look, "I know, but it's a good cause, for the veterans."

Grumbling irritated now he pulled off the ad hoc contraption, his shoulder aching dully. "So are these like jet boots?" the other man asked curiously studying them as Tony set them on the bench.

"Yes and no," he explained rather unhelpfully.

"Is there a plan for this?" the shorter man asked gesturing to the mess as they moved out of the lab.

Giving his friend a half smile, Tony stuffed big hands in his stained jean pockets. "I was thinking about making a suit."

Opening the door they stepped out Clint looking interested, "Would appreciate if you maybe kept that rather undignified flight between us, no point worrying Steve…"

Clint laughed loudly at that, holding out a fist, "Bros before hoes man." Tony returned the fist bump as they headed upwards, silent for a moment.

"I won't tell Bruce you called him your hoe."

A genuinely grateful look was tossed his way by a relived looking assassin, "Thanks."

Laughing the pair headed to dress, the dreaded fundraiser waiting.


Black boots thumped hollowly on the too clean floor, as the figure clad in black made his way deep into the facility. Nick Fury letting his feet carry him, he'd been making this same trek for months now.

Rounding the corner, he strode confidently into the hospital room, moving to the side of the figure propped up in bed. Glasses perched on the end of his nose as he shuffled through an obscene amount of paper work.

"Phil, you're supposed to be recuperating," Fury tried sternly, as he fell automatically into parade rest.

The Agent returned the look flatly, "If I don't do it, who will?"

Chuckling the Director clasped his hands casually behind his back, "How you feeling?" he asked concern bleeding into his normal brisk tone.

"Fine, ready to get out of here," the man on the bed returned sourly. He'd wanted to get out of this room months ago.

"The Doctor's said tomorrow, but you'll need to check in once a week."

Satisfied Phil nodded crossing his arms over his chest, "So how are they getting along?"

Nick knew who he meant right away, the motley collection of superhero's living together in a large Tower in the middle of New York. The Avengers. "Good, they seem to have found their stride together. Don't think we could separate them if we tried." His lips twitched slightly at the rather sour expression that statement elected.

"You still upset Stark wasn't killed by aliens?" he asked his number one Agent.

Colsoun sent him a sidelong look, "No…no…" he mumbled looking down and away with a heavy sigh. Nick cleared his throat to keep from laughing, he wasn't sure Colsoun would ever forgive Stark for corrupting Captain America.

"He's a good man," Phil said softly, grudgingly. "A war hero, and a superhero…"

Curious Nick raised a brow, "High praise from you."

Sighing Coulson looked up at him, expression torn between pained acceptance, and grudging respect. "The man fought beside Thor, Cap, Hulk…even Black Widow and Hawkeye, with nothing more then a rebar and grit. He proved to the world you don't need special powers to be a hero…anyone can be one."

Nick Fury felt his heart soften a little, he wasn't a man given to fanciful thoughts but after what had happened in New York, when all the dust had settled and the ever-resilient city began to rebuild; he'd found himself believing in the impossible. The Avengers had shown him that.

"Tony Stark is something, and he and Captain America together…well we'll just have to wait and see how far they go." Fury said with an almost wistful smile.

On the pristine hospital bed the other man mirrored the grin, "I guess we will…"


He woke slowly, languidly, eyes reluctant to open. He didn't want to wake, pressed close to the delicious warmth. Listening to the gentle almost inaudible wheeze of the man so close to him, coupled with the familiar soft rustle of a page turning.

Unable to resist he smiled blinking blue eyes open as he rolled to look at the man in bed with him. Taking in dark eyes focused on the text before him, brows drawn together as he read. Steve slowly leaned up to kiss that furrowed brow.

"Morning," he breathed voice husky from slumber.

Chocolate eyes shifted to him briefly, "Morning beautiful."

Pale cheeks heated in embarrassment at the endearment. "What time you'd come to bed last night?" he asked curiously stretching luxuriant in the large comfortable bed. One of the few things Tony had splurged on for the bedroom…eventually. But not before they had ruined several other beds. Steve eventually managed to convince him to just get something that would support their large frames, during their amours activities.

"About 3…3:30," Tony said absently big hand cradling the book as he flipped the page. His other arm still wrapped around Steve.

Blue eyes crinkled as he hummed in amusement, "Good part?" He asked glancing the title of the trashy romance he was reading, Born in Sin.

Grinning Tony pressed a kiss to his sleep tousled head, "Yup."

Comfortable in the quite idleness the super solider was loath to move. Contentedly he contemplated the last year of his life.

He'd known the moment he'd met Doctor Erskine that his life was never going to be normal again. As the years had passed his predictions had proven to be uncannily accurate. He'd seen and done things he'd never imagined. The least of which was lying in the arms of Tony Stark, in the middle of New York City seventy-years in the future.

Loki and the failed invasion had been the baptism by fire for the Avengers. Fury had bet the farm on them and walked away something of a hero in his own accord. They all had. Pictures of them had been everywhere following the end, speculation running rampant, and wildly unfounded rumors plagued them daily.

Out of all of them though it had been Tony who'd taken the brunt of the scrutiny, not minding taking some of the heat off the team. Apparently the rather reclusive son of Howard Stark becoming a 'superhero' had been big news.

"Are you supposed to be working?" Steve asked snuggling closer, throwing a big arm over the wide, scarred chest of his lover gently tracing the raised lines.

"Not today my love, today I am spending it right here," he murmured finally setting aside the book, gathering Steve into his strong arms. Laughing softly the other man burred his face in the warm neck inhaling deeply. Tony always smelt of warmth, old spice, and faintly of metal; he loved it.

Big callused hands smoothed down his back, squeezing and caressing. Steve hummed in appreciation moving to slowly kiss well-known lips. Grinning Tony rolled them pinning the blond to the bed, settling between muscular thighs. Teasingly he rolled his hips as Steve moved his hands up his back to caress Tony's newest tattoo. It was a familiar shield flanked by small wings, an homage to Captain America.

Tony rolled his hips again grinding clothed erections together, watching as Steve arched back body responding beautifully to the friction. Tony kissed him deeply, languid, he was in no hurry; having every intention of watching Steve come apart beneath him.

Lips and tongue kissed and caressed every line of perfect muscle, tracing every plane. From neck to knees he worked, before slowly pulling off wet boxer briefs eyeing the impressive, weeping erection.

"Tony please!" he begged arching his hips upward, trying to find some sort of relief. Shuddering the big dark haired man, reached fumbling for the beside table and the lube. Steve leaned up eagerly pushing Tony's briefs down grasping his painfully hard erection in his hand jerking him teasingly.

"Shit," he cursed trembling hands gripping the tube as he hurried to slick his fingers, bringing them to press against Steve's entrance working him open expertly.

"Tony, yes! God yes!" he hissed rocking back on the thick digits as his worked a second inside stretching, prepping.

Holding onto his own control by a thread Tony pulled away, tenderly kissing Steve when he whimpered at the loss. "Shhh," he eased against sweet lips as he slicked himself up settling firmly between outstretched legs. Groaning he pressed forward, feeling the tight muscle give way as he slid deep inside.

"Shit Steve," he breathed holding still buried to the hilt as he waited for the other to adjust.

Panting, Steve moved first, arching up, urging his lover to move. "Tony move," he pleaded. With a breathy chuckle the other finally complied, his thrusts slowly, steadily, methodical as Steve whimpered and cried beneath him. Demanding he move faster, harder, deeper.

Tony hid his wide smile as he bit down on the sweat slick collarbone. Steve was rather demanding during sex. Not that Tony minded in the least.

"Tony, oh yes Tony!" reaching between them Tony wrapped a big hand around the painfully erect super soldier jerking him as he thrust harder. Looping a big leg over his shoulder he changed the angle hitting his sweet spot head on.

"Oh God yes Tony!" Steve cried as his back bowed, the bed as it creaked ominously.

"Steve," he groaned jerking faster as he felt his own orgasm creeping up on him. Steve reached his crisis first spilling hotly across the rough hand pumping him. Tony right behind him as he came spilling deep inside.

They collapsed to the bed a hot sweaty tangle of limbs, as Tony pressed kiss to his lover's sweaty temple. Content to stay this way forever.

"Love you," Steve breathed squeezing the big arm encircling him.

"Good," Tony mumbled, "Because I love you too." Smiling Steve felt a yawn catch him again, already able to feel Tony's breath beginning to even out, the big man draped heavily across him pressed tight.

Blue eyes drooped tiredly, he really should clean up, the mess on his stomach already cooling but at the moment he couldn't be bothered. "Don't think I didn't notice that bruise on your shoulder," Steve mumbled quietly.

He could hear the grin in Tony's voice, "What bruise?"

"The one you got trying to fly," he returned flatly snuggling further into the embrace.

"Who squealed?" Tony mumbled nuzzling into the super soldier's neck.

"I don't reveal my sources," he said softly sleep looming so sweetly close. "You really trying to make a flying metal suit?" he asked. His question going unanswered as Tony had finally succumbed to sleep.

Steve smiled indulgently, "You're already my Iron Man," he said softly, eyes drifting close.


So that's it for this one, think I may try my hand at a Hulkeye, sort of a fan of that pairing right now and I sort of want to do a different take on Bruce. As always thanks for reading, and although this one was a rather rocky go, for those who enjoyed it for what it was thanks. As always when my beta get's to the correcting I will be fixing it up, but the story itself will not be changing.

Thanks for reading!