If you support The Head Orange banning transgender people from serving, then unfollow me. Actually, fucking block me. I don’t want you coming near my blog, me, or my trans friends with a pole as long as this fucking country.
You know how sometimes we use our favorite characters to express troubles in our own minds. Well without further ado I bring you:
Steve couldn’t help but rock his weight back and forth, feeling the bounce of the suspension, expertly tuned, and the support of the supple leather of the seat beneath him. “I might swoon,” he said dreamily, placing his hands more firmly on the handlebars of the motorcycle.
“I think that’s my job.”
Steve snorted as he looked at Tony, standing a few feet away. “Is that a compliment to me or you?” Tony did build him this - perfect, marvelous - bike after all.
Tony smiled, sidling closer with steps that seemed oddly hesitant. “Why can’t it be both?” He leaned forward to place a dainty kiss on Steve’s cheek. “Happy birthday, Cap.”
Steve wound his arm around Tony’s waist and tugged at the same time he let the motorcycle rest on its kickstand. They met somewhere in the middle. “Thank you,” he said, kissing Tony until they were both a little breathless. When they broke away, and Tony was still letting out those dazed little chuckles he did whenever they did this, Steve continued. “You know, I’ve got a spare helmet and I know you’ve got a leather jacket. Why don’t you grab them and I-” He gripped Tony a little closer, leaned in to murmur in his ear. “Take you for a ride.”
Tony giggled, but it wasn’t his oh-my-God-is-that-your-idea-of-innuendo laugh; it was nervous. “Oh, no, Cap,” he said, pulling away. “A-a bond between a boy and his bike is sacred, right? Wouldn’t want to besmirch the purity of that first ride!”
Thinking in the back of his mind that even for Tony logic that was a bit nonsensical, Steve just smiled. “I don’t mind waiting, Tony. I wanna share this with you.”
“And we are! Right now!” Tony said, patting his shoulders. “With you on your deathtrap and me on solid ground. It’s good this way, right? We should - keep doing it.”
Steve took a long moment, longer than he cared to admit (because it’s not like the term ‘deathtrap’ had any subtlety), to parse that out, his jaw falling open. “Tony. Tony, are you scared?”
“Of course not,” Tony sniffed, drawing himself up and regrettably away. “I’m logical.”
“Tony, you know I won’t drive around like I do in battle-”
“And here I thought throwing motorcycles was a compulsion for you, I’ve already got another six of these just waiting in the lab-”
“I’d go as slow as you need me to - wait, really?”
“No,” Tony said with a roll of his eyes.
Steve huffed a little laugh, then titled his head in question. “Tony,” he prompted. If Tony genuinely didn’t want to go, that was fine, but he’d kinda been dreaming of riding with his boyfriend pressed against his back since before they even got together.
Tony adorably rubbed the toe of his sneakers into the soft ground and looked askance. “It’s not safe,” he finally muttered.
“I’m sorry.” Steve couldn’t have heard that right. “What?”
“It’s not safe,” Tony repeated, more loudly this time.
Steve gaped. “You - you fly around in a suit of armor!”
“Yes, a suit of armor, Steve” Tony said sourly, the effect ruined a bit by his pout. “I’m fully protected and I have JARVIS.”
“Just like week I watched you voluntarily fly into a collapsing building!”
“That was saving lives, not volunteering for an afternoon ride on a deathtrap!”
“I have personally witnessed you taking the back roads at one hundred miles per hour!”
“Well, that’s just different,” Tony said, tilting up his chin. Steve could feel a grin overtaking his face and Tony’s lips twitched in response. “My cars are built for curves like that, unlike this - this -”
“Deathtrap?” Steve guessed.
“You’re catching on.”
With a semi-delighted sigh, Steve reeled Tony closer. “You built me this deathtrap.”
“Well,” Tony hedged, fiddling with the zipper on Steve’s jacket again. “I figured if you were going to ride one, which you were, I might as well build you the safest deathtrap I could.” Steve melted, but that was nothing compared to Tony’s next words. “Besides, it makes you happy.”
Steve kissed him again, smiling against his lips. “I wish you’d reconsider,” he said. “I’d be real gentle on those curves.”
This time Tony’s giggle was definitely of the oh-my-God-is-that-your-idea-of-innuendo variety. “Cap,” he said, pulling away entirely. “I have complete faith in your maniac driving that you learned dodging bombs in Nazi Germany. I just have it - over there.” He pointed at the balcony on the back of the compound where he did most of his tanning.
“Where’s it safe?” Steve said, fondly exasperated. Tony gave him a thumbs up and another kiss before taking a few steps back.
“Safe, warm, and clothing optional.” Steve felt his mouth fall open again, but Tony was already backing away. “Have a good ride, birthday boy!”
My irrational fear of riding on motorcycles, expressed through Tony Stark!