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"A Quantum Whatsit." Steve crossed his arms and glared. He'd been having a nice, quiet time catching up on his reading in the mansion's library. When he'd sat down, he'd expected Tony to interrupt him, because Tony couldn't stand to leave anyone alone for long. But nothing could have prepared him for the results of Tony's latest experiment. "Is that what it's called?"
"That's the technical term," Tony—both of him— agreed cheerfully, bobbing their heads in unison. "Well, it is now that I've created it. I was working on a temporal locator, just in case one of us happens to get lost in time and, as you can see, I may have out-done myself." The Tonys buffed their nails proudly.
Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and sank back into the couch. He didn't know which to glare at. They were identical, from their suits down to the almost-vanished bite mark Steve himself had left oN Tony's neck the day before. "What are the chances of someone getting lost in time? Wait, don't answer that. How do we fix this?"
"Well..." Tony glanced at himself. "One of me is myself, from about point-three nanoseconds into the future. Unfortunately, since it was such a small amount of time, that future's already past. We're a bit stuck."
"Stuck." Slow, creeping dread filled Steve as he looked at the identical Tony Starks, who were grinning at each other as if sharing some cosmic secret. "You can't fix it."
"We could."
"Then—"
"If we wanted to sunder the fabric of space and time as we know it, plunging the world into a dark millennium of chaos, destruction and terror, wherein causes sometimes follow effects and the dimensions we're so delightfully familiar with may expand or compress without warning." The Tonys never lost their perky smiles. "Just give us five minutes and some duct tape."
Steve rested his head in his hands. Two Tonys. Not a twin, but an exact copy. He wondered if Fury had an assignment somewhere far, far away that he could take. Maybe something in the Alps. "I think this puts a stop to your plans too, Tony— Tonys?" What was he supposed to call them? A and B just seemed impolite, but they were both Tony...
Warm, familiar weight settled on the couch, bracketing him. Teeth nibbled the shell of each ear. "Oh, we don't think they're stopped necessarily. Adjusted to fit the new circumstances."
Licking his lips, Steve sat back shook his head to dislodge them. "No. We're not— I said no threesome."
Twin faces looked amazingly innocent, for men who had been chewing on him. "This isn't a threesome, it's a twosome with an extra body." They each planted a knee between Steve's legs, leaning forward to press him back against the couch. "Could you really pick just one of us?" they asked, in the tones of men who knew exactly how hard it was to resist them.
That cocky, underhanded son of a... One of them licked the corner of Steve's mouth, and he made the mistake of turning his head to kiss back. Warm breath on the back of his neck warned him what was coming just before teeth sank into it. Steve groaned, eyes slipped shut as mild, ignorable arousal crescendoed into a heavy ache at his groin.
The Tony he was kissing grinned against his lips. "We thought you'd see things our way."