Amora wet her lips with her tongue.
She had never noticed before.
Well, not like it was easy to ignore the stench of iron and fresh, burning meat engulfing the entire block. There was no blood, but Anthony Stark was supposed to be a genius of sorts.
“I’ve read about melting the flesh in acid and boiling the bones. Something about making it harder to find the body.” She said, closing in behind him once she spotted him kneeling between the generators far left from the track field, running a hand through his hair.
He stiffened for a second before relaxing his head against her stomach. “I wanted to try it. You can’t blame me, see.” He pointed at the corpse draped over the wiring: Taskmaster, specifically, his face charred. “It took a bit before it even melted through the skin.”
“Ah,” She nodded, grinning. “A slow roast.”
Tony snickered. “Nah, I hate imitation meat. Like, hell, I know you’d never bother with bologna or anything besides Boar's Head deli but it’s basically junk. I mean, sometimes I eat myself plenty of cheap hot dog’s, but I’d never touch that.” He gestured at Taskmaster.
“You want to eat him?” She said, marveling the thought.
Hypnotizing Tony always bore poor results, usually resulting in him being a babbling fool that could barely stand, much less access the tools she desired. Steve Roger’s was hardly better, as he was either the most oblivious mortal she’d ever come across, or he was as queer as he was remarkable.
But then after two attempts at seducing the good Captain Amora found herself fighting off Tony’s Iron grip--and, oh, the bloodlust in those beautiful brown eyes. How had she never noticed before? Anthony Stark laid his claim of Steve Rogers like he was some sort of knight protecting his Captain’s honor.
It was to Tony’s great displeasure that Asgardians were hard to kill, luring her to him inside his own hot tub, promising he’d do whatever it was she asked, jabbing her in the stomach with a needle. The amnesia lasted an insufferably long time too, the bastard. But where Tony had hoped slice open into her stomach the skin would make quick to heal.
“Probably faster than your darling Captain’s flesh. I thought you were a genius.” She had said, having been more amused than angry. How could she have never noticed before? “I can help with that,” She then offered. And it was true. Blood and death were nothing new to a God. “An enemy of my enemy is my friend, you could say.”
Of course, in return for helping her. But she’d keep quiet, nudging him along slowly. No need to rush.
“Maybe,” Tony, bringing her out of her thoughts. He flushed. “Ah, um. Not so uh, ... so literally ... Maybe.”
She just shrugged, still utterly amused but focused now on coating Taskmaster’s body in a veil of magic, twisting until the body disappeared completely. The smell Tony took care of, spraying the vicinity with an air purifier he ejected from his gauntlet. Would Tony leave Taskmaster to rot there? Or would he gather the body later? Oh, waiting to find out was always the best part when it came to Tony.
“Leaving the shield too?”
Tony shook his head. “I already have it stored, along with the sword. Didn’t you notice when you were petting me?” Then he winked, standing up and letting her take his arm. He’d never let her take his hand, the silly love drunk boy.
The few times she tried he deftly dodged her hand, nervously muttering about how he only wished to hold Steve’s hand. That threw her off. She always assumed he enjoyed hand holding with Jan just as much with any of his close friends. Apparently not.
Instead, Tony cuddled, and laid on, and snuggled against; even her.
“I was thinking instead how this past month Miss Agent in White has been single handedly snatching your Captain away each lunch and practically feeding him herself, but it is Taskmaster you’ve chosen today.” She answered while he lead the both of them back towards the dorms. Her fingers rubbed circles over his arm, enjoying the smooth, cool feel of his jacket.
He reached his other hand over to caress her fingers, the metal warm and almost inviting in the early morning chill. “I wanted to wait. He’d be sad his friend is gone, ya know? But I’ve thought about it. Taskmaster meanwhile bragged how he’d be a better Captain America, and how the bastard mimicked Steve.” The last sentence came out as a growl as he squeezed her hand briefly.
“Stark, Amora?” Steve appeared, circling around the corner from the dorm’s main entrance in sweats and a plain white shirt.
“Hey, Cap.” Tony beamed.
Amora simply gave a curt smile. “Captain.”
Steve blinked. “You’re out early … or late, depending, I guess?”
“Just heading in. Busy roboting all night.”
“Busy circling the campus in a manic haze, more like.” Amora corrected. Her grip on Tony’s arm tightened. “I’m making sure he gets his beauty rest. Never to worry.”
“Never would,” Steve said. “I mean, it’s normal.” Then he focused his gaze directly on Amora. “I didn’t know you two were friends.”
“He’s been inviting me to his hot tub--”
“--Stark initiative for months. I decided to be nice.”
“I’m sure,” Steve said hesitantly. He was skeptical.
Just what she wanted. Maybe he’d even be jealous. “If you’ll excuse us, then.” She said, her voice sugary sweet. “Come along Tony.”
“But--” He protested.
“We’re interrupting the good Captain’s early morning run.”
“Tony?” Steve softly called after, reaching to touch Tony and stopping halfway.
She felt Tony try and pause, deciding a moment later to keep on walking. “See ya later, Cap!” He yelled back.
“You are a genius.” She said, flinging the dorm door’s open with a flick of her finger.
“Duh.” Tony clicked his tongue. “I think he was concerned for me. Me.”
“If he came and saved me, only to find me waiting for him.”
“Oh?” She silenced him with a finger, heading to her room. “You do have a plan then, for him?”
He waited until they were inside. “I have … ideas. So, so many ideas. I’m not really sure what I want. Him alive, dead? Hacked to pieces lovely by my own two hands? He’s so sweet and caring. Stubborn, and strong too. Maybe I’d tie him down in the lab and collect his blood to drink through a tube. Not a lot. Just enough to taste. It’s all I want really. A taste, so I can feel his heartbeat, his warmth, as I do it.” He sighed. “I love him.”
“I know,” Amora patted his cheek and forced him to sit down on the bed. “I know. Soon he’ll be yours and nobody else's, and you can finally taste him.”
“Yes.” Tony nodded, laying down. “All mine.”