can I ask for asexual Tony Stark for the trope thing? it would mean a lot to me!
(I’m pretty positive asexuality isn’t a trope but…I want to write ace Tony, so sure. We’ll roll with it. I’m sorry if this bugs you but I wanted to put a ship in here and I chose winteriron for this one. Also, Tony doesn’t know what asexuality is and is kind of hard on himself. I envisioned him figuring it out but it didn’t fit. Maybe down the line).
Tony’s always been great at projecting the playboy act for one reason. It’s an act. He can study how it’s supposed to go, what he’s supposed to say, from TV and movies and even, after a while, the trash magazine articles about him.
At first, Tony thinks everyone’s making it up. This attraction thing. That it’s a…myth, a story, an act of some sort. But after a while, after managing to brush off the weird looks and the explanations, Tony accepts that maybe other people get it.
Which isn’t weird. There’s a lot of things other people get that Tony doesn’t. Like when money is and isn’t an appropriate response and why people get so mad at him so suddenly and when to shut his damn mouth. The list goes on. Tony keeps a running list of the times people have told him he’s failed on this front, and just adds “sexual attraction” to it.
So he fakes it, like he fakes so many other things. He takes home super models and debutantes, actors and heirs and heiresses and, eventually, titans of industry. He comments on all those things people say make them sexually attracted to another person. He makes it public, he lets them call him a pig, because there’s one truth he’s learned.
If you tell a lie, make it the biggest, most public lie possible. Dare people to comment. Almost all of the time, they won’t.
Tony gets good at sex, too, gets, if rumors are to be believed, incredibly good. He supposes his skill is a byproduct of the attention he pays his partners. It’s not that the actual act of sex is awful, just kind of…blah. So he distracts his partners by paying them attention. The better he makes them feel, the less they focus on him.
So Tony has a reputation, and he knows that even if he wanted to, he couldn’t lose it now. he told too big a lie, went too public, they’ll never believe anything but that now.
And Tony…isn’t really sure if he wants the public to know. But the persistent rumors of his love of sex are getting in the way of this attempt at a relationship.
“How come we haven’t had sex?” Bucky asks out of the blue, nuzzled up with Tony on the couch after dinner. They’d gone out, even dressed up a bit, but returned home for dessert, now in pajamas.
The night had been great, until Bucky asked his question.
Tony tenses. Frozen to the spot, really, and Bucky is observant and notices immediately. “Oh,” he says.
He sounds so dejected that Tony gets some life back in him, having to fix this immediately, because he can’t let Bucky think whatever he’s thinking. He can’t let him walk away.
“I don’t like it,” he says.
“You…don’t like it?” Bucky says incredulously.
Tony closes his eyes. Even the guy out of the world for seventy years knows the stories. Get a reputation and then you can never, ever lose it.
“There’s an image, and I’m..I was…responsible for it, and I did some things…it wasn’t all bad, but it’s never been my, uh, cup of tea. So. I faked it.” Tony takes a deep breath. “I can fake it for you too! If you need it. But, uh, you know me? In a way the others never did? So you’ll probably be able to tell and I’m trying this honest communication thing, so here it is. Uh.”
Bucky blinks at him, then grabs Tony’s wrist, the move sudden but the grip gentle. “You…would sleep with me…just to make me happy?”
“Uh..yeah?” Tony says. “I like you happy, you happy makes me pretty happy. And, uh. False advertising and all.”
“You are not a product,” Bucky says firmly. “If you don’t like sex, then we don’t have sex. That’s fine, Tony. Now I know.”
“I still lo…like you a lot,” Tony says, barely catching the almost-slip-up. “I just…I don’t get why people feel that way? I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to be sorry,” Bucky says, now stroking the underside of Tony’s arm, which is pretty damn distracting. “Just…talk to me. What’s okay?”
“Everything we do?” Tony says. Kissing’s great. The way Bucky holds him, great. “And, uh, the things I say. I think you’re hot as hell, Bucky. But. The things about, uh, wanting that or whatever? I. Don’t. That’s just how people talk.”
“Right,” Bucky says. His fingers move up Tony’s arm, stroking under the sleeve of his t-shirt. “So…this is good?”
“Very good,” Tony agrees. “You good?”
“Very good,” Bucky mimics. He settles back into the couch, wraps his arm all the way around Tony, and pulls him close.
