#geeniaz

Ripe for the Picking

@geeniaz said: I finally found your blog! Ayee!(/°u°)/ Ok… I have a promp: WinterIron -> An alternate universe wherepeople recognize their soul mate by the smell. Tony smells like plums and Buckysmells like cranberries… Maybe Post CivilWar? … I dont know, that I leaveto your consideration. Ps. I love your fics!!!! <3 

Dear Geeniaz, I’m glad you love my fics, I havefun writing them. I changed Bucky’s scent in this from cranberries toblueberries because there’s a blueberry line from Tony in the Avengers where heoffers blueberries to Bruce. (This line was completely unscripted and happenedbecause Robert Downey Jr. was hiding food all over the sets because he washungry…)

“You’re just getting older, that’s all,” Dr. Chosaid. “It happens to everyone who hasn’t found their mate.” 

Tony scowled. “Spirit bonding is stupid,” hesaid. “There are seven billion people on this planet. The idea that there’sonly one for me is ridiculous. If I had a mate, they’re probably a seven yearold Chinese boy.” 

“It’s not a direct one-to-one, Mr. Stark. I knowyou know that, you’ve read the files,” Cho said. “Admittedly, your preferencesare rare, so of the percentage of the population with a match, only ten percentcan bond at all, and of that, perhaps .002% are a differential match. Thatstill leaves over a million people that could potentially fill the empty placein your heart.” 

“That’s so corny,” Tony said. “And I used to beable to, so long as I kept blueberries around. If I could smell them during, I didn’thave performance issues.” He’d actually had a woman who made scented candlesfor him; his dates would think they were romantic, the candle-lit sex, and Tonywas able to get and maintain an erection, so long as the blueberry scent was inthe room. It did make things like car sex and visiting someone else’s house…awkward. 

“As I said, you’re getting older,” Cho remarked.“Your spirit longs for a stronger connection, for love. Not just a weekendfling.” 

“My spirit wants to get laid,” Tonywhined. “Isn’t there anything you can do?” 

“Go to a spirit festival,” she said. “Stopleaving it to chance, get out there.” 

“No. No, absolutely not. Everyone at thosefestivals are practically children. If my spirit match is a freaking seventeenyear old kid, I don’t want them. That’s just sick.” And true; he knew if heactually met his mate, he’d be lost. It wouldn’t matter if it was a ten yearold, he’d be stuck and smitten and unable to think of anyone else. And he wasalready forty without having met a single person who could even potentiallymatch with him. The last thing he wanted to do, at his age, was fall in lovewith a teenager, who he couldn’t even marry for several years, and then knowthat he’d be leaving his mate alone in middle years when he died. 

Better to never find them than to curse someoneto decades alone, spirit bond broken, half-alive. If the match never happened,they’d be lonely, not devastated. 

But he was a rare precious flower. Tony rolledhis eyes; usually both halves of a spirit mating smelled the same; a lemonloved a lemon. Oranges mated with other oranges. Much simpler to find a mate;and for that matter, to have sex with someone who wasn’t your mate, if youcarried your own pheromones around with you. 

But Tony smelled of plums, which meant heattracted other plums, but he just… couldn’t. It seemed weird and crawlyand incestuous somehow. Like having sex with a second-cousin. Not technicallyillegal, but somehow still… icky. 

Cho shrugged. “That’s all I can suggest.” 

“I’d rather be celibate.” 

Turned out, he’d rather not be celibate. 

Further turned out that the festivals sucked.They were crowded with teenagers and twenty-somethings. There was a lot ofdrinking, which Tony had given up because being celibate was awful enoughwithout being a drunk on top of it. Boozing it up made him horny as hell andhe’d managed exactly one partnered orgasm in the last eight months. The rest ofthe time it was his hand and his damn blueberry candles. 

Also, besides sucking, the festival stank.Reeked. Only one in ten people (some said it was more like one in seven, withthe percentage increasing) were bondable in the first place, so Tony didn’tencounter many; usually not more than one or two in a day. Well, except for thebonded couples he knew; honestly, he had to fumigate his house whenever Steveand Sam came by, marinated as they were in the apple smell between them. (Andit was worse because they both worked out regularly, so they sweat a lot.Pungent. The two of them were pungent. And if they were super, supercute and adorable, that only made it harder, sometimes, for Tony to be alone.)   

Tony was drowning in the scents; like anoversized fruit basket. Pineapple and mango, strawberries and limes, maplesyrup? Okay, that woman just made him long for a huge stack of waffles. He wasover stimulated. 

He’d caught a whiff of two blueberries; one of whomwhen he finally tracked the scent to the source had actually wrinkled her noseat Tony, as if he smelled bad. The other walked past him without even looking.Yeah, this was going well. 

The plums were out in force, too. One of themore annoying things about his stupid bond is that blueberries were rare, butplums were second-most-common. Lemons being first, which Tony always foundweirdly ironic. (When life gives you lemons…) Which meant Tony had been nudged,flirted with, and at one point, backed into a corner and groped before he’dmanaged to get away. 

He was done, after that. There was no pointbeing here. 

Tony strode by the wedding tent; there wasalways one set up at festivals. Eager spirits, having discovered a matchingscent, were often wed that very day – later they’d discover that they marrieda person as well as a pleasurable odor and divorces or separations were notunknown. Fewer than mundanes, but that might have been societal pressure, too.Bonded couples were expected to stay together. 

“Oh, god,” someone said, deep andthroaty. Tony rolled his eyes, glanced over. The wind was blowing in from theeast, had carried his scent toward a man who was lingering behind the weddingtent. 

The man was, in a word, beautiful, with dark,messy-cut hair and piercing gray eyes. A dark shadow of beard cupped his cheeksand chin, just enough to scrape against skin with delicious friction. 

Tony held up his hand. “I know, I know,” hesaid, warding the guy off. “I have a particularly strong scent, I get that,I’ve been chased around the festival all day, and I’m really tired.”

“Never smelled anything like it,” the man said.“Look, can I… please. I been comin’ to these things for years, haven’t foundanyone, an’… man, I haven’t had sex in years. Can I just… breathe nearyou, for a few minutes?” 

Tony shuddered. He… he didn’t want a goddamnplum; it was like sniffing his own shirt. The guy looked so desperate, though,and he was very, very pretty. Maybe just a minute wouldn’t hurt anything.“What’s your name?”

“James Barnes,” the man said, “but most peoplecall me Bucky.”

“Tony,” Tony said, jerking his chin in a nod.“Look, I know what I smell like, but I’m not looking for a plum, I don’t matchup with plums.” 

“You smell incredible,” Bucky said. “Like theking of plums. It’s so strong, I just… I want to lick you, bite you, eatyou up.” 

Tony shivered. Well, that was an evocativethought. If he thought he could get it up, he might actually go with this man,smell or no smell, but… “No biting,” Tony said. “I just want to go home.” Thewind shifted and… Tony couldn’t smell anything. The man had no scent. How… howwas that possible? Well, at least he couldn’t make Tony ill from the reek ofmore plums. “Okay, okay.” 

Bucky sighed in relief and pulled Tony into hisarms, burying his nose in the crook of Tony’s neck. “God, that’s good,” he murmured.All the horrible tension in Bucky’s body bled out as he breathed in Tony’sscent. 

“You don’t… don’t have a scent? What are you,some sort of half-bond?” 

“I’m a level one,” Bucky said, his voice darkand needy against Tony’s throat. 

“I… thought they were all dead,” Tony said.Level ones had popped up in the 1940’s, the first of the spirit bonds… one infive hundred, maybe. 

“Most of us, yeah,” Bucky said. “I… I got a pod.Thought maybe, eventually, there’d be someone. But there was a malfunction andthey woke me up.” 

“Ow,” Tony said. He’d heard about that; thegreat Winter experiment. Some two hundred or so of the level ones had entered asort of cryosleep. Their preferences were entered into a database, and when amatch was found, they were awakened. Maybe thirty of them were left in cryo;either the matches had been found, or some of them had died in the long sleep. 

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed. He drew back, slow andreluctant. “My time’s up. Thanks. I swear, you’re so strong, I can tasteit.” 

Tony opened his mouth to say something, then froze.From that close, kissing close, he could smell Bucky’s breath. 

“Wait,” Tony said, leaning even closer, hisnostrils flaring, chasing just the tiniest hint of… 

Bucky licked his lips, his gaze flickering up tomeet Tony’s, gray eyes wide and pupils blown. “You shouldn’t…” The wet shine ofhis mouth was an unholy temptation and Tony took one tiny step forward, tryingto find… 

He didn’t, actually, mean to kiss the man. Thatwould have been unkind to tease him when Tony wouldn’t – couldn’t – do anythingelse with him. But he was already so close and that scent, the faintest trace…he nudged Bucky’s mouth with his own, just a little nuzzle, a… 

Blueberry exploded against his lips, seeped inand coated his tongue. Tony inhaled in shock and his nostrils were filled withthe scent, so strong, so potent, so… wonderful. 

Tony groaned, opened his mouth, god, god… “Kissme, kiss me back,” Tony pleaded, leaning against Bucky, wanting, needing, andoh, god, he was hard, he hadn’t been in months and he needed. Bucky didn’tsmell like blueberries; he tasted of them. 

Bucky sighed, soft and eager. He didn’tsurrender to Tony’s kiss, didn’t yield. He met Tony on the field as an equal,neither conquered nor capitulating. He took everything, gave everything. Tonyhad been kissed before, had done much more than kissing, but all of that waswiped away in the moment that Bucky’s sweet, brilliant, clever tongue sweptinside his mouth. Tony was destroyed in that moment, everything he had beenunmade until there was nothing left at all but his mate. His perfect match. 

Bucky panted for breath, shivering beside him.“Tony, Tony, Tony,” he murmured. “Is it… does it… it’s everything.You’re everything. Please, please tell me I’m not imagining this.” 

“If we’re dreaming,” Tony answered, “we’re doingit together.” 

“Never, ever wake up,” Bucky begged. “I can’t… Ican’t go back to living without this.” 

There was a place in Tony’s body, just under hissternum, where he’d always felt hollow, cold. Empty. No longer. The taste ofBucky’s mouth had changed all that, changed it in an instant. “Let’s… getmarried. I’ll take you home.” 

[ 1 2 . 2 8 PM ]

“Pocky Day”

- Anthony… - El ingeniero volteó un poco para ver quien era el visitante que habia llegado a su taller. Al reconocer aquel rostro su sonrisa se hizo brillante. - Hola guapo ¿Que te trae a mi humilde morada? - El hombre mas alto bufó suavemente en respuesta, ambos sabian que la Torre podria ser llamada de todo, menos humilde. - ¿Acaso no puedo visitar a mi novio hoy? - Depende… No veo que estes trayendo comida. - Solo me quieres porque te alimento diario. - Ha… He sido descubierto. Viernes notifica a Pepper que tendré que busarme un novio nuevo. El que tengo ya sabe mi plan de esclavitud eterna. - La Señorita Potts dice que odia el papelo asi que mas te vale que conserves el actual bozz. La mirada indignada que el inventor dirigió a la camara mas cercana desató una divertida risa en su acompañante. - Vie, dile a la señorita Potts que no se preocupe; Tony no se va a poder deshacer de mi tan fácilmente ahora que he logrado conquistarlo. - Presumido - Murmuró el castaño mientras que su novio lo levantaba de un rapido movimiento y lo cargaba estilo princesa - ¡Heey! ¡Aun estoy trabajando! - De hecho bozz, estuvo viendo vídeos de gatitos los últimos cuarenta y cinco minutos. - ¿Gatitos? ¿Otra vez? - Disculpen ustedes, es mi forma se buscar inspiración. La mirada esceptica que recibió fue respondida por una sacada de lengua totalmente infantil. - Ya cariño… Perdona… - Necesitaras traer comida para eso. - Hablando de eso ¿Sabes que dia es hoy? - Ehm… ¿Es una forma de ver cuantos dias llevo en el taller? - Sorprendentemente no esta vez. - Oh … Bueno, la verdad ni idea. - Hoy es 11 de Noviembre. - Ok… - Y en Asia se celebra el dia del Pocky - … ¡Oh! Son esas varitas cubiertas de chocolate ¿No? - Asi es… Y ese dia se suele celebrar en pareja … - Oh… ¿Quieres comer Pockys conmigo? - Se suponia que yo deberia hacer esa pregunta gatito. - Perdón - Eso decia pero sus ojos brillaban traviesos. - Uh… Bueno entonces ¿Supongo que has oido del Pocky Game? - Nop - Seria un honor enseñarte a jugarlo - El tono sensual con el que esas palabras fueron mencionadas bastó para hacer sonrojar al mecánico - Hmm adorable. - ¡Hey! ¡L-lo haces a proposito! - ¿Que cosa? ¿Coquetear con mi novio? - ¡Eso! ¡Se supone que el que coque- Sus palabras se cortaron cuando llegaron a su piso, pues durante toda la conversacion habia sido llevado hacia el ascensor y este habia empezado a moverse - ¿En que momento-? - Se cruzó de brazos mientras una profunda risa hacia vibrar el ancho pecho contra el que estaba apoyado. Haciendolo sonreir sin poder evitarlo. - Solo quiero un momento carinoso contigo Tony. - Uh … Vale vale. - además… Te tengo esto Tras dejarlo suavemente sofre el sofa mas grande la sala cogio la pequeña caja que estaba en la mesita de centro. - Esos son pockys… ¡Son pockys de cafe! - Asi es - ¡Woo! Los vi cuando estuve de viaje en Japon pero no pude conseguirlos y ya luego me olvidé de ellos… - No son faciles de hallara tampoco pero… Queria ofrecerte algo que en verdad te gustara. - … Gracias. - Y ademas - El mas alto tomó una gran bocanada de aire y cuadró los hombros como si quisiera darse valor. - Eh ¿Pasa algo? - No… Bueno si… Oh… Solo dame unos momentos… - Sientate aqui - Tony tomo la mano mas grande y tiro de ella con suavidad, logrando que el tenso hombre se sentara a su lado - ¿Acaso vas a decirme que compraste esto para decirme que vas a fugarte con Viernes y me dejaras solo con Dummy? Vas a tener que pasarme una pension de alimentos si asi fuera eh~ La broma y las expresiones del castaño relajaron considerablemente la linea de los hombros ajenos. Intercambiando un par de sonrisas el otro hombre palmeó sus piernas antes de arrodillarse frente suyo. - Anthony Edward Stark… No hay nada que no fuera a hacer por ti. El conseguir unos dulces japoneses es algo pequeño con lo que te voy a pesir ahora. - ¿Q-Que…? - ¿Te casarias conmigo? - De su bolsillo saco un estuche negro y lo abrió mostrando un anillo elegante, resaltando en este el posible zafiro que asemejaba la forma del reactor. - … Tu… Oh Tesla… - La sonrisa preocupada que llevaba el ingeniero fue trasnformandose en una expresion brillante, ojos amorosos y una suave sonrisa formaban parte de esta. - Dime - Te amo - Eso fue suficiente respuesta para que el varon se lanzara a por los labios de Stark. Sonriendo en el beso. Al separarse tomó su mano y deslizó el anillo en su dedo anular. - Creo que los pockys de cafe seran mis favoritos apartir de ahora. - Los mios tambien.