[ There’s a certain untapped thrill in knowing your very presence is a distraction, a lure. It’s concentrated power, a muddying of the waters, and though at times it’s little more than an inconvenience there are other times, quieter times, when it’s - fun.
Fun to cant his head slightly, raise his brows at an implication that isn’t present, make a small show of it before moving on. walked into that one, Captain.
His actual meaning is clear enough - the question isn’t hiding anything. He wants an answer. ]
A fair amount. It’s a nice spot for meditation.
[ For thinking about things other than the itch and the hunger. For trying to focus his mind and overcome the power of a magic beyond his own, moons high above interfering in ways that in saner times he wishes to pick apart but in the midst he just wants to indulge. Cast thought out for frolic. It’s only long-upheld routine that keeps him coming back here during moon cycles, stubborn to a fault, but rarely achieving anything more than slipping into daydream.
Though on the note of his regular attendance here, pupils steadily dilating and a suggestion of a smirk creeping in to color his words as an observation toes the line into inside joke - ]
This is the first time I've seen you come through.
[ Funny how he keeps bumping into the Avengers as they’re busy running away from one another. ]
[ The pheromones are something that Steve only considers after the fact. Would he have stopped to talk if it hadn't been for that, or would he have just kept running while offering a brief, polite wave? It's the constant second-guessing of his thoughts and actions that bothers him, and Strange's purposeful misreading of his question is an agitation rather than anything alluring.
At least with Sanguis there's a balance of the two: the desire to fight, and the desire for something else. Steve's managed it decently well so far.
(A fight with a certain trickster god notwithstanding.)
Meditation. That gives Steve something else to focus on as he looks around the immediate area, the collection of trees. Leaves fall from the branches and lazily drift to the ground. The sun peeks through the canopies, decorating the grass in various patterns. It is a nice spot.
Steve goes on runs. Strange meditates. Everyone has their way of keeping themselves in control. ]
Yeah, I usually don't come out this far. Just needed a change of scenery.
[ There's still that urge to draw closer, not only because of Cordis' effects, but because of that nagging in the back of his mind. What scent had he picked up on Strange, and why is it bothering him so much? ]
Mind if I join you?
[ It's a risk, but it will give him the option to get another hint of that familiar smell. ]
[ Oh? Brave, given the time of the month. But Steve Rogers is, if anything, an honourable sort - with more than enough strength of will to not be unduly swayed. And he himself has already had enough of a fill recently that he’s unlikely to add further intentional risk beyond idle play. If the captain gets fighty? Well, he’s been meaning to give him a more substantial demonstration of his capabilities than the scant parlour tricks he was able to share on limited Chroma all that time ago.
So why not? ]
Sure.
[ Sweeping a hand out in offering toward the tree under whose shade he’d been resting, Stephen turns and leads on.
Whether or not it's a conscious consideration, something about present company speaks kindly to the moon-given urge to ever be on the edge of mischief. ]
[ And just like that, Strange invites him into his space. This might be the exact kind of interaction that Steve's been avoiding, but he also believes that part of the way they combat their urges is by exposing themselves to the moon's effects in order to get better at resisting them. Otherwise, they're always going to be susceptible to it.
Like he'd told Thor. Exposure therapy.
The two of them sit in the shade, and for a few seconds it actually is pleasant. Steve's given a moment to catch his breath. Except sitting here like this, only a few inches between them, also gives him the chance to take another sniff. He has to sort through all the smells: fresh-cut grass, flowers that he's never smelled in his life before, dried out leaves, and...
Strange's scent, unique and all its own. He's smelled it before, but how? This is their first time interacting while Steve's had his wolf traits. His tail swishes against the grass behind him as he fights to place it.
And then it rushes back.
He remembers first where he'd been when he'd smelled it, which was one of the interior hallways of his apartment building. A generic enough memory, except that he'd had a chance meeting with Tony. Tony Stark, who'd for once had barely a word to say to him, who'd averted his eyes and hurried down the hall past him even as Steve had stood there with the smell of sex flooding his nostrils.
Said nostrils flare as he pieces it all together, and he's left with a haunted expression as he stares forward at nothing -- or maybe at that red flower, sprouting from the grass, tinged with gold. ]
You... [ His head jerks up and he stares right at Strange, ears perked up and alert. Like a bloodhound that's caught its mark. ] You and Tony...?
[ He blurts it out before he can think any better of it. ]
[ And so here he is, sitting side by side with Captain America, letting the quiet seep all its little daytime noises into the gaps between their shared silence, and for a moment or two the proximity helps him find a point of centred peace—
And then it snaps with a word, with the violent turn of a head, and Stephen opens his eyes to stare out over the nature before them just in time to hear what comes next.
Ah.
Well, there’s no mistaking that.
A second or two to consider the next move. To deny, to play coy? To pretend he heard nothing, stand up and walk away? How much silence does he owe Stark? What answers does he owe Rogers?
The answer to the latter is none. But Stark? A slightly trickier question - arguably, however, he’s owed no more silence than Stephen owes himself.
And it doesn’t matter. The question of debt is irrelevant. The star-spangled hero of our great country has a nose that knows, all that’s left is to react to that slip. Go in for damage control, or…? ]
Anybody ever tell you to keep your nose out of other people’s business, Captain?
[ Steve is fine. But Steve isn’t anywhere to be heard, and here is Stephen Strange turning his own head to meet the challenge head on. Smug enough to make a pun, pupils paper thin with the beginning of something dangerous, voice tinged with the hint of a smile barely present on his face. ]
[ Maybe blurting out the revelation hadn't been the smoothest or most composed way of handling the situation, but Steve hadn't been able to censor his response at all, not when he'd been blindsided with such a startling piece of information and had at least one of the people involved right here.
This is the man who had driven Tony to cheat on Pepper. Steve doesn't have all the details, can't even imagine how it had come to pass, but he at least knows that much with disturbing certainty.
How well did the doctor and Tony even know each other? Steve frowns to himself, recalling how Peter had mentioned the three of them had been out in space together. That hardly seemed like enough pretext to throw years of a committed relationship to the wayside, though Steve knows that it's so much more complicated than that.
This place is making them act against their best interests; it's making them act like something other than themselves.
A small, creeping part of Steve feels like he deserves to know the full story, but he has to question if that's the Sanguis traits talking, if he'd be acting out of some misplaced sense of protectiveness over a former teammate.
Tony's a grown man (despite popular opinion) and can handle himself. All the same, Steve feels burdened with the information. ]
It's not like I meant to smell you on him.
[ There's the suggestion of a growl in his tone, but Steve doesn't escalate. His clawed fingers grip hard at the grass at his sides, but other than that, he manages to dig deep and find self-control. Picking a fight will lead to nothing good.
And yet he can't completely behave. His head swivels back to meet those slitted eyes. ]
Stephen's expression goes slack for a second, momentarily exhausted by the renewed mention of the infidelity he now finds himself an accessory to. the passing thrill of drama pales at this swift turn, the unsubtle accusation in it.
he turns his head away to stare out into the middle distance as his face drops, the picture of a man who's just learned he's done something terrible ]
Oh, no. [ oh, no... a pause, not quite long enough for Steve to intrude, just long enough to instill some dramatic effect. ] He mentioned three children in Idaho, but I never thought...
[ aaaand it breaks, expression curling into a laughing snarl, eyes rolling as he looks back to Steve. ]
If you're trying to paint me as the other woman, you're going to have a difficult time. What do I want, his fortune?
[ he doesn't have one now - well, aside from a small windfall of profits Stephen kindly helped him earn. and it's certainly not his exemplary personality that's the main selling point. ]
[ For just a brief moment, only a second or two, Steve thinks that the look of regret on Strange's face might be genuine. He doesn't know the man well enough to comprehend his true nature, or to be certain whether he's really the sort of person who would knowingly have sex with someone who was already promised to another.
But then Strange's face cracks into a sharp smile and it all becomes very clear. Steve's stomach churns. ]
It isn't about what you want. [ Steve stands abruptly, not in the mood to be sharing any sort of personal space with Strange in light of this discovery. Despite the edge to his tone, his clawed hands remain at his sides. ] It's about being decent enough to not jump into bed with someone who's compromised and is going to regret it in the morning.
[ He's picking a fight, but this isn't about Sanguis. This is all Steve Rogers, incapable of letting something lie when he feels there's been some kind of injustice. So here he is, ready to go to the mat for someone who most likely wouldn't even want that from him. Here he is, ready to be some kind of shield when he'd tossed his aside back in Siberia.
That shield doesn't belong to you. You don't deserve it. The words still ring clear as a bell in his head. So why can't he stop? ]
[ Steve stands and Stephen just... doesn't fucking move. looks up at him from where he's resting comfortably in the grass, unruffled, unlikely to ruffle. as if the disaster choice itself wasn't bad enough, now he's got to sit through a guilt trip from Captain America, of all the people in the multiverse? it's almost funny how on the nose it is.
hard pass on providing him with any level of satisfaction. the vicious curve of his mouth smooths slowly into spiced neutrality, still just that hint of something redder than calm waiting in the creases at the corners of his eyes, the measured delivery of his words. ]
As opposed to what? Decent enough to leave him sitting alone at night in the Prismanode shelter where he landed trying to run away from you?
[ please, Steve the sinless, protector of virtue, you keep casting those stones with your eyes tight shut. ]
[ Running away from him? Steve's brow furrows and his mouth twists to one side as he thinks back to those three days a month ago. Other than that brief encounter in the hallway which had happened after the fact, he doesn't remember a specific interaction with Tony that would have sent him running away. Strange most likely means it in a more general sense, or is just saying it to actively try and provoke him.
The fact that Strange remains so unaffected by all of this really only gets further under Steve's skin. It makes his want to bare his fangs and tackle Strange into the ground, makes him want to do something other than this ineffectual arguing. ]
There are ways you could have helped that didn't involve having sex with him, you know. [ Steve doesn't pounce, but as his tone grows in volume his fangs become more obvious while he talks. Of course, he realizes they could have offered Tony that kind of help too, but how could he have known how bad things were when they were barely on speaking terms?
It becomes an internal struggle rather than an external one. Is he somehow at fault for this? Should he have noticed something in the days leading up to this terrible mistake? Steve draws in a deep breath, chest expanding, and then slowly releases it. ]
Nevermind, just... [ And then the Sanguis comes in, as he issues an order: ] Don't get near him again.
[ there are ways you could've helped that didn't involve having sex with him, you know and Strange's brows rise, the distorted mirror of an earlier picture of innocence, half disbelief and half oh, really? astonishing. but there's no time to drop a comment - Steve's moon is coming into play, gearing him up, and there's a moment—
there's a moment where he's reminded of Loki, of Steve's casual reference to a fight he started, to the potential of something unsavory and potentially a little entertaining—
and then Steve takes a breath, allows it to work, and lets it go. lets whatever he was building up to go with it. the crisis seems averted.
then he opens his mouth.
Stephen's twitches in turn. smile? frown? doesn't matter. with a fluid momentum, he raises himself to standing. as he does, the air around them goes warm, rich with static, alight with a power crackling away just out of reach. there's no violence in it, not even as orange sparks hop from random spots of nowhere and die out again, energy buildup behind the scenes of observable reality too much to remain completely contained.
there is, however, a hint of violence in the sharp focus of his eyes. the curve of his smile. this harmless magic a none too subtle reminder that Steve may have impressive brawn and sharp teeth, but he wants to be careful who he picks his fights with. and who he goes around telling what to do. ]
Good of you to step up, Rogers. I'm not quite sure what he would've done without you.
[ When Strange stands as well to square himself up against him, that tugs at some urge inside of Steve. It's not an outright threat, but it's the suggestion of one. After dismissing Steve's reaction to what he and Tony had done, now Strange is rising to up it. He's meeting Steve halfway in the argument, or at least that's how it translates to Steve.
Even that, he might have been able to push past. He would have felt the need to get the last word in, but he also would have been able to walk away.
But then Strange calls on his magic, and even if he doesn't do anything offensive with it, the fact that he makes a show of it is a clear sign that he's posturing. He's showing Steve what he's capable of and establishing himself as a potential threat. The energy sparking around them seems to run through Steve's body like a current, different from Chroma and yet in this instance, no less electrifying. Then, that smug smile becomes the last straw.
What Strange says is ultimately inconsequential. The Sanguis urges in him fully awakened, Steve's tail goes stiff and straight behind him and his ears angle forward. He bends his knees slightly, then pounces, claws extended — ]
[ that smile dropping from his face is the last Steve gets to see of Strange before the swiftly closing distance between them is engulfed in bright amber sparks and he's not pouncing at Stephen Strange anymore, he's pouncing at an empty expanse of hallway, familiar, the residential quarters offered to them on arrival to the city.
if he turns, he'll see nothing but those same sparks sputtering out into nothing.
and if he takes stock of his surroundings after that, he'll find that the nearest door isn't alien either. it's the door to the given apartment of Tony Stark, the place he would've gone to be alone the morning after this whole thing started. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Fun to cant his head slightly, raise his brows at an implication that isn’t present, make a small show of it before moving on. walked into that one, Captain.
His actual meaning is clear enough - the question isn’t hiding anything. He wants an answer. ]
A fair amount. It’s a nice spot for meditation.
[ For thinking about things other than the itch and the hunger. For trying to focus his mind and overcome the power of a magic beyond his own, moons high above interfering in ways that in saner times he wishes to pick apart but in the midst he just wants to indulge. Cast thought out for frolic. It’s only long-upheld routine that keeps him coming back here during moon cycles, stubborn to a fault, but rarely achieving anything more than slipping into daydream.
Though on the note of his regular attendance here, pupils steadily dilating and a suggestion of a smirk creeping in to color his words as an observation toes the line into inside joke - ]
This is the first time I've seen you come through.
[ Funny how he keeps bumping into the Avengers as they’re busy running away from one another. ]
no subject
At least with Sanguis there's a balance of the two: the desire to fight, and the desire for something else. Steve's managed it decently well so far.
(A fight with a certain trickster god notwithstanding.)
Meditation. That gives Steve something else to focus on as he looks around the immediate area, the collection of trees. Leaves fall from the branches and lazily drift to the ground. The sun peeks through the canopies, decorating the grass in various patterns. It is a nice spot.
Steve goes on runs. Strange meditates. Everyone has their way of keeping themselves in control. ]
Yeah, I usually don't come out this far. Just needed a change of scenery.
[ There's still that urge to draw closer, not only because of Cordis' effects, but because of that nagging in the back of his mind. What scent had he picked up on Strange, and why is it bothering him so much? ]
Mind if I join you?
[ It's a risk, but it will give him the option to get another hint of that familiar smell. ]
no subject
So why not? ]
Sure.
[ Sweeping a hand out in offering toward the tree under whose shade he’d been resting, Stephen turns and leads on.
Whether or not it's a conscious consideration, something about present company speaks kindly to the moon-given urge to ever be on the edge of mischief. ]
There's plenty of space.
no subject
Like he'd told Thor. Exposure therapy.
The two of them sit in the shade, and for a few seconds it actually is pleasant. Steve's given a moment to catch his breath. Except sitting here like this, only a few inches between them, also gives him the chance to take another sniff. He has to sort through all the smells: fresh-cut grass, flowers that he's never smelled in his life before, dried out leaves, and...
Strange's scent, unique and all its own. He's smelled it before, but how? This is their first time interacting while Steve's had his wolf traits. His tail swishes against the grass behind him as he fights to place it.
And then it rushes back.
He remembers first where he'd been when he'd smelled it, which was one of the interior hallways of his apartment building. A generic enough memory, except that he'd had a chance meeting with Tony. Tony Stark, who'd for once had barely a word to say to him, who'd averted his eyes and hurried down the hall past him even as Steve had stood there with the smell of sex flooding his nostrils.
Said nostrils flare as he pieces it all together, and he's left with a haunted expression as he stares forward at nothing -- or maybe at that red flower, sprouting from the grass, tinged with gold. ]
You... [ His head jerks up and he stares right at Strange, ears perked up and alert. Like a bloodhound that's caught its mark. ] You and Tony...?
[ He blurts it out before he can think any better of it. ]
no subject
And then it snaps with a word, with the violent turn of a head, and Stephen opens his eyes to stare out over the nature before them just in time to hear what comes next.
Ah.
Well, there’s no mistaking that.
A second or two to consider the next move. To deny, to play coy? To pretend he heard nothing, stand up and walk away? How much silence does he owe Stark? What answers does he owe Rogers?
The answer to the latter is none. But Stark? A slightly trickier question - arguably, however, he’s owed no more silence than Stephen owes himself.
And it doesn’t matter. The question of debt is irrelevant. The star-spangled hero of our great country has a nose that knows, all that’s left is to react to that slip. Go in for damage control, or…? ]
Anybody ever tell you to keep your nose out of other people’s business, Captain?
[ Steve is fine. But Steve isn’t anywhere to be heard, and here is Stephen Strange turning his own head to meet the challenge head on. Smug enough to make a pun, pupils paper thin with the beginning of something dangerous, voice tinged with the hint of a smile barely present on his face. ]
no subject
This is the man who had driven Tony to cheat on Pepper. Steve doesn't have all the details, can't even imagine how it had come to pass, but he at least knows that much with disturbing certainty.
How well did the doctor and Tony even know each other? Steve frowns to himself, recalling how Peter had mentioned the three of them had been out in space together. That hardly seemed like enough pretext to throw years of a committed relationship to the wayside, though Steve knows that it's so much more complicated than that.
This place is making them act against their best interests; it's making them act like something other than themselves.
A small, creeping part of Steve feels like he deserves to know the full story, but he has to question if that's the Sanguis traits talking, if he'd be acting out of some misplaced sense of protectiveness over a former teammate.
Tony's a grown man (despite popular opinion) and can handle himself. All the same, Steve feels burdened with the information. ]
It's not like I meant to smell you on him.
[ There's the suggestion of a growl in his tone, but Steve doesn't escalate. His clawed fingers grip hard at the grass at his sides, but other than that, he manages to dig deep and find self-control. Picking a fight will lead to nothing good.
And yet he can't completely behave. His head swivels back to meet those slitted eyes. ]
You know he's engaged, right?
no subject
Stephen's expression goes slack for a second, momentarily exhausted by the renewed mention of the infidelity he now finds himself an accessory to. the passing thrill of drama pales at this swift turn, the unsubtle accusation in it.
he turns his head away to stare out into the middle distance as his face drops, the picture of a man who's just learned he's done something terrible ]
Oh, no. [ oh, no... a pause, not quite long enough for Steve to intrude, just long enough to instill some dramatic effect. ] He mentioned three children in Idaho, but I never thought...
[ aaaand it breaks, expression curling into a laughing snarl, eyes rolling as he looks back to Steve. ]
If you're trying to paint me as the other woman, you're going to have a difficult time. What do I want, his fortune?
[ he doesn't have one now - well, aside from a small windfall of profits Stephen kindly helped him earn. and it's certainly not his exemplary personality that's the main selling point. ]
no subject
But then Strange's face cracks into a sharp smile and it all becomes very clear. Steve's stomach churns. ]
It isn't about what you want. [ Steve stands abruptly, not in the mood to be sharing any sort of personal space with Strange in light of this discovery. Despite the edge to his tone, his clawed hands remain at his sides. ] It's about being decent enough to not jump into bed with someone who's compromised and is going to regret it in the morning.
[ He's picking a fight, but this isn't about Sanguis. This is all Steve Rogers, incapable of letting something lie when he feels there's been some kind of injustice. So here he is, ready to go to the mat for someone who most likely wouldn't even want that from him. Here he is, ready to be some kind of shield when he'd tossed his aside back in Siberia.
That shield doesn't belong to you. You don't deserve it. The words still ring clear as a bell in his head. So why can't he stop? ]
no subject
hard pass on providing him with any level of satisfaction. the vicious curve of his mouth smooths slowly into spiced neutrality, still just that hint of something redder than calm waiting in the creases at the corners of his eyes, the measured delivery of his words. ]
As opposed to what? Decent enough to leave him sitting alone at night in the Prismanode shelter where he landed trying to run away from you?
[ please, Steve the sinless, protector of virtue, you keep casting those stones with your eyes tight shut. ]
no subject
The fact that Strange remains so unaffected by all of this really only gets further under Steve's skin. It makes his want to bare his fangs and tackle Strange into the ground, makes him want to do something other than this ineffectual arguing. ]
There are ways you could have helped that didn't involve having sex with him, you know. [ Steve doesn't pounce, but as his tone grows in volume his fangs become more obvious while he talks. Of course, he realizes they could have offered Tony that kind of help too, but how could he have known how bad things were when they were barely on speaking terms?
It becomes an internal struggle rather than an external one. Is he somehow at fault for this? Should he have noticed something in the days leading up to this terrible mistake? Steve draws in a deep breath, chest expanding, and then slowly releases it. ]
Nevermind, just... [ And then the Sanguis comes in, as he issues an order: ] Don't get near him again.
no subject
there's a moment where he's reminded of Loki, of Steve's casual reference to a fight he started, to the potential of something unsavory and potentially a little entertaining—
and then Steve takes a breath, allows it to work, and lets it go. lets whatever he was building up to go with it. the crisis seems averted.
then he opens his mouth.
Stephen's twitches in turn. smile? frown? doesn't matter. with a fluid momentum, he raises himself to standing. as he does, the air around them goes warm, rich with static, alight with a power crackling away just out of reach. there's no violence in it, not even as orange sparks hop from random spots of nowhere and die out again, energy buildup behind the scenes of observable reality too much to remain completely contained.
there is, however, a hint of violence in the sharp focus of his eyes. the curve of his smile. this harmless magic a none too subtle reminder that Steve may have impressive brawn and sharp teeth, but he wants to be careful who he picks his fights with. and who he goes around telling what to do. ]
Good of you to step up, Rogers. I'm not quite sure what he would've done without you.
no subject
Even that, he might have been able to push past. He would have felt the need to get the last word in, but he also would have been able to walk away.
But then Strange calls on his magic, and even if he doesn't do anything offensive with it, the fact that he makes a show of it is a clear sign that he's posturing. He's showing Steve what he's capable of and establishing himself as a potential threat. The energy sparking around them seems to run through Steve's body like a current, different from Chroma and yet in this instance, no less electrifying. Then, that smug smile becomes the last straw.
What Strange says is ultimately inconsequential. The Sanguis urges in him fully awakened, Steve's tail goes stiff and straight behind him and his ears angle forward. He bends his knees slightly, then pounces, claws extended — ]
no subject
if he turns, he'll see nothing but those same sparks sputtering out into nothing.
and if he takes stock of his surroundings after that, he'll find that the nearest door isn't alien either. it's the door to the given apartment of Tony Stark, the place he would've gone to be alone the morning after this whole thing started. ]