Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals

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120. Tony and Eddie/Venom? @the-flightoficarus asked for “This is fun.” “Seriously, we’re trying to hide a body.”

Content Warning: Some description of a dead body that’s a bit gory.

We can’t Eat That. It’s Dead

“The best way to deal with a dead body is not to kill anyone in the first place,” Eddie complained.

We didn’t kill him, Venom said, sounding almost reasonable for a blob of blackish alien goo that happened to be mostly sentient. That said, Venom was also frequently denying that he’d eaten the last of the chocolates, or set the toaster oven on fire. Venom and truth had a nodding acquaintance at best. He was just dead.

The dead guy didn’t say anything. He was, as Venom pointed out helpfully, just dead.

Dead and stinking and covered with moving wriggly things that Tony didn’t want to think about too much. Eddie had, either reflexively or out of courtesy to Tony, actually covered the body with a tablecloth, but Eddie’s table wasn’t that big, and the tablecloth wasn’t large enough to cover the whole body.

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115 Winteriron @thepunisherreigns “I don’t need anger management. I need people to stop pissing me off.”

Clint might not have been fast enough to keep Bucky from realizing that something was wrong, but he was smart enough to get the fuck out of the blast radius.

Bucky plucked the newspaper off the table. No one was quite sure who ever ordered the paper version of the local news (probably Steve) but everyone read it. There was something about the waxy feel of newsprint that gave everyone a sense of solidity. Maybe.

He didn’t have to flip far, the offending article was on the second page, a pointed article about Stark Industries buying forgiveness, rather than thinking things through. For a futurist, the article pointed out smugly, Stark wasn’t much for seeing how people would react.

Bucky’s fists clenched without his being aware of it.

Stark’s extended battery life for electric cars was a direct threat for the petrol companies, and what was in the paper was no more than a smear campaign when two top employers dumped a lot of their workers off the books at refineries, and then blamed lower gas requirements.

Nat looked up from her tablet, eyebrow raised. “Oh, you saw it.”

“It’s bullshit,” Bucky snarled. Carefully. At the paper. Because one didn’t snarl at the Black Widow unless one was tired of having working body parts. “They were planning those factory closures anyway.” New refineries were being opened in South America, where the workers cost about a quarter of US employees, and could be forced into working longer, in worse conditions.

“I’m not disagreeing with you,” Nat pointed out. “I’m just wondering whether you would benefit from some anger management lessons.”

“I don’t need anger management,” Bucky complained. He knew how to manage his anger just fine, thanks. Sometimes it was managed by punching people in the face. “I need people to stop pissing me off!”

Nat shrugged. “The press is always going to come after Tony, you know. One of the relatively few downsides to being an obscenely wealthy celebrity figure.”

Bucky cracked his knuckles, the metal fingers whining as the servos protested. “Yeah, well, I can always deck a few of ‘em, an’ maybe they’ll get safer hobbies.”

“Who are we punching into new lifestyle choices?” Tony wondered as he came into the room. He leaned against Bucky’s back, hooking his chin over Bucky’s shoulder. “Ooh, journalists. Good choice.”

“Don’t encourage him,” Nat advised.

“Hey, if I punch a reporter,” Bucky said, “at least they’ll have something new to write about in th’ paper. An’ at least one of ‘em might reform?”

“More likely that they’ll publish something about how I encourage violence in suppression of constitutionally-mandated freedoms, blah blah blah. Haters gonna hate, Buckybear. Just let it roll off.” He kissed the side of Bucky’s neck and went in search of coffee.

“Yeah, well, haters gonna hate. I hate them.” He eyed Nat sidelong. “Naaaaat.” That wasn’t a whine, he would have sworn on his mother’s grave. Or at least denied it fervently.

There went the eyebrow again as she glanced his way. “Hm?”

“Let’s get one of ‘em,” Bucky suggested. “Not, you know, punchin’ ‘em in the face. I know better.” He did, really, know better. Violence might solve a lot of damn problems, really, but… well, it had its own drawbacks. “Fight fire with fire. Blackmail, little extortion. It’ll be fun.”

Nat looked over at Tony, who was pouring coffee into a mug.

“Leave me out of it,” Tony advised without turning to look at them. “I, being a hardworking corporate officer, am going into the office to argue with Pepper about the R&D budget. What the two of you get up to while I’m gone, I have no control over.” He put the coffee pot back on the hot plate, then took a sip from the mug before turning to smile at Bucky. “Have a nice day, dear.” He reached up onto his tiptoes to kiss Bucky, and strolled out again, humming.

Nat set her tablet on the table and gave Bucky a slow, menacing smile. “Where should we start?”

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Remus: I am lost for words! 

Sirius *narrating*: Despite being lost for words, Remus yelled at me for the next twenty-five minutes.