Steve And Tony: Stony (Requests Are Open)

But I'm Iron... MAN

Summary:

While Steve is away, Tony is forced to take a pregnancy test by Bruce after two weeks of being terribly sick every morning and anything but the chirpy and annoying Tony Stark.

After the results show - very clearly as well - that he is indeed two months pregnant, Tony can't... well, he can't quite wrap that fact around in his technologically advanced brain.

&@&

"Tony, are you pregnant?" The scientist asks out of the blue. Has the guy lost his marbles entirely, or has he just become an idiot? Oh, God. Not two Steve's. Not just yet.

"Bruce," the younger man croaks, cheek against the cool porcelain toilet seat. "Have you lost it? You do realise that there's a reason I am called Iron MAN, right?

'Cause, just in case your confused at all, I am a man. Believe me, there isn't anything womanly about this body right here. Except the fact that, I may have cried during 'The Fault In Our Stars' but that's it. I can't be pregnant. It isn't possible."

Bruce opens his mouth to correct his friend but has to close it again when Tony gags and throws up again, groaning. "Steve," he cries out and Bruce feels his heart ache. He rubs the younger man's back soothing.

"Shh," he hushes, "Steve's away a run, Tony. Don't worry, I'm here. Shh, that's it. Let it all out. Well done."

Tony is sobbing now, back shaking and hands trembling and scrambling against the slippery surface. "Clint," Bruce calls, waiting for the archer to arrive. Within minutes, the bed headed hero is standing by the door rubbing his eyes in a pair of boxers and a white T-shirt.

"What is it?" The tired man grumbles.

"Can you watch Tony for a minute while I go down stairs?"

He nods reluctantly and Bruce gets up, kissing him on the lips, so it's worth it. "Hang in there, Tony." He calls from the hall.

The genius moans, panting. "I-I can't... I-" He hurls once again, tears running down his cheeks. "Steve. S-Steve." Clint drops to his knees beside the sick and dazed man, holding his best friend in his arms once Tony is finished and wiping lazily at his mouth. "Steve..."

Clint wraps his arms around the brown haired man, silencing him and whispering to him softly, reassuringly. "C'mere. Come here, honey. I know, I know. There ya go." Tony relaxes in Clint's large arms, snuggling into his neck, sniffling and trembling.

Clint waits with Tony in his arms, kissing his sweaty forehead and hugging him on the bathroom floor until the man is feeling better. Where the fuck is Bruce? The poor guy's lost colour. He's practically transparent.

"Come on, Tony. Let's get you to lie down, alright?" He gets a shattered mumble in reply and that answers his question perfectly fine as he hoists the man of iron onto his wobbly feet and all but drags him into the living room and over towards the couch.

Natasha is sitting there with her legs crossed, watching 'The devil wears prada' when they make it and she gasps at the sight of Tony, attention on him instead of the film now, she unfolds her legs, planting both feet on the cream carpeted floor.

"Is he alright?"

Clint sighs, "Not a clue. Bruce is checking out." He lays the ill man down, head on Natasha's knees after she places a pillow beneath and Clint takes a seat on the other side of the couch, Tony's legs across his own, feet dangling.

Steve finds the trio like that when he arrives back home and smiles. Natasha is still awake, her slender hand running through his boyfriend's messy hair, her eyes watching his pale, peaceful face. Meanwhile Clint is snoring unattractively on the other end, head back, mouth opened to the world. Steve raises an eyebrow.