People always ask why Steve Rogers, Captain America, loves Toni Stark, egoistic, arrogant, narcissistic playgirl extraordinaire.
Well, actually, no one really asks him that -not many know that they're together, after all. But Steve knows reporters, and he knows fame. If their relationship was public, that's what the tabloids would say.
But even if they did go public, even if the reporters started asking, he'd never merit the question with an answer. Who were they to question his choices anyway? Their choices?
Because he didn't fall in love with arrogant, charming playgirl Natasha Stark.
He fell in love with eccentric, endearing, awkward futurist and genius Toni. Not the mask.
He remembers the first time he truly saw past the mask, saw Toni without her guard, her walls, without the stone casing around her heart.
He remembers how he fell in love with her.
He went down to the lab, to convince Toni up after more than a week of mad-genius-engineering at Pepper's behest, but when he got there, the windows were shaded, not opaque, but almost there.
And he almost panicked. Usually, shaded windows meant hurt and drunk Toni, even though he knew that the genius had almost completely cut herself off from alcohol.
But he realised that even with the shaded windows, he could still hear the clangs and thuds of Toni in her element, ACDC blaring and even the slightest hum of Toni singing along.
She was fine.
He entered his override codes, and JARVIS had automatically lowered the volume of the music to slightly more bearable, although Toni didn't seem to notice, which meant that she was in the middle of something big. Either that or she was working on improvements for the suit.
"Ton-" he started, before freezing. Toni in her element was beautiful.
The engineer was clad in ill-fitting sweats and a black long-sleeve with the sleeves rolled up, the shirt baggy and practically swallowing her entire form, the neckline slipping off one shoulder and the hem falling down to almost mid-thigh. Toni was pretty tall, but the shirt had obviously been made for someone taller than her five foot nine frame.
The Arc Reactor shone through the thin material, casting a white-blue glow on her sharp features, softening them but doing nothing to hide the focused edge that made Toni Toni. Her face was open, unguarded, long lashed eyes narrowed in concentration and glimmering with intelligence and excitement, every expression clearly displayed across her features.
Her usually perfectly styled dark hair was pinned up in a messy bun that was half falling out, looking like it hadn't been re-tied in at least a couple of days. Dark curls hung in her face, a motor oil slicked hand constantly rising to brush dark tendrils out of her eyes.
The dark locks were mussed and badly tangled in places, the bun that was meant to keep her hair out of her face failing and instead holding the snarls in place, Toni's hair slicked with with motor oil and grease, as was her clothing and face, a black streak across her forehead and under her eye, streaked across the back of her neck, her hands coated liberally with grease and leanly muscled arms striped with black. Her blunt fingernails, well-manicured and the shortest nails Steve had ever seen on a woman, were stained with black as well.
Toni was at her worktable, soldering iron in one hand and other hand flicking her hair out of her eyes. Her lips pulled into a small, unconscious grin as she hummed while she worked, occasional lyrics making themselves known, especially as the background songs got to the chorus.
Toni was adorable. Steve's fingers itched for his sketchbook and a pencil, or any stationery at all, in fact. Drawing Toni in action was bound to be a challenge -one he couldn't turn down.
Her calloused, slim fingered hands could do anything, from manipulating the most delicate, complicated piece of circuitry to lifting heavy deadweights, or even pieces of the over 250 lbs. suit.
Which happened to be what she was doing just then.
Tony lifted the gauntlet of the suit, long fingers picking at the delicate circuitry, rewiring the glove and tweaking the repulsor.
She set the gauntlet down, a satisfied smile on her face as she headed over to the torso of the Iron Woman suit that hung suspended from the ceiling of the lab. She squirmed her way under and into the suit, her head and the tops of her shoulders completely encased in the titanium-gold alloy, and Steve could see the sparks flying and the eye holes lighting occasionally.
It was only when Toni wriggled out of the suit chestpiece and lifted her welding mask that JARVIS went, "Miss, Capt-"
Toni started at that, spinning on her heel and staring at Steve, jaw dropping slightly. "Wha- how long have you been standing there, Cap?"
Steve shrugged, before looking down and realising that at some point in time he'd acquired a sheet of Toni's drafting paper and a pencil.
Then he realised that he'd basically covered the entire sheet, front and back, with Toni.
The Arc Reactor, her hands, her lips pulled into that soft, real smile, her eyes shining with pride and satisfaction, her face, with her flyaway waves of hair and messy bun, circles under her dark, intelligent eyes.
He'd even drawn the lab, with the bots in the corner and the holographic screens, the cups of coffee at varying temperatures littered around the room, some empty and upturned on their sides, other half-full and balanced precariously on stacks of scrap metal and paper, tools strewn about the room and that awkward screwdriver that somehow stuck itself in the wall.
He held the sheet out to Toni in answer.
The genius took the paper with a confused look, tilting her head to the side and raising an eyebrow slightly. She glanced down at the paper and her jaw dropped. "Wha- Steve, th-this is amazing! How-"
Steve's face split into a bashful grin.
"It's not that good; see, I messed up the shading there, and the proportion is pretty out," he pointed out, gesturing to the sketch of the Reactor, where the crosshatching was a little vague and somewhat lopsided.
Toni made a dismissive sound. "That's nothing -I can't do anything artistic to save my life, Steve, believe me, this is amazing."
Then it was Steve's turn to be confused. "What do you mean you can't do anything artistic? Your blueprints, your design sketches, your engineering is an art. It's beautiful and it creates the best masterpieces. That's art, isn't it?"
Toni blinked once, then blinked again. "Huh. Never looked at it that way."
Then she broke out in a toothy, genuine smile, all flashing white teeth and wide, happy eyes. "Your work is still awesome. I can get you a buyer, if you'd like. I can get you an entire art gallery dedicated to 'works by Captain America'. How's that?"
And suddenly Steve been filled with warmth that he couldn't quite pinpoint, that expanding, encompassing feeling in his chest, like a bubble of joy slowly growing bigger, but not quite at the same time.
"Go out with me," he blurted, just as Toni'd been about to turn away, back to her projects.
The genius had pivoted sharply, gaze suddenly locked on the supersoldier's features, shrewd and wary, frozen in a cautious, distrusting gaze.
And Steve could feel that bubble in his chest just pop, leaving an empty space in his chest that felt like a cavern that would never be filled, and he could feel his cheeks and neck warming, flushing with colour and his wide, almost dazed smile disappearing until he'd almost felt as though he'd been on the battlefield and he'd reverted to Captain America. "I-I- ignore that, Toni, it's fine, I'm sorry, nothing's gonna change, I can- I- I’ll just leave now."
Toni blinked rapidly, three times in a row before she was suddenly right in front of him, in his space, her nose millimeters from his own and then her lips had been on his.
It was a passionate, lingering kiss, all love and care, Toni's arms twining around his neck and his arms wrapping around her waist, resting on her hips as he kissed back with twice the fervour that she had, lips sliding against each other, locking together perfectly, like two pieces of the same puzzle.
She carded her fingers through his hair, her slim, dexterous fingers, covered in motor grease and oil and probably even tiny metal shavings. Who knew what Toni got down to in her workshop?
But Steve didn't care. He had Toni, had her in his arms and had her lips on his, soft and loving and intent on kissing the very life out of him.
Then she pulled back, eyes shining and licked her lips before sucking her bottom lip into her mouth and chewing on it in an uncharacteristically shy gesture that she somehow managed to make look charming and just that bit insecure, making Steve want to wrap her up tight in his embrace and never let her go. Her arms stayed looped around his neck though, her fingers still playing with his hair and tugging lightly on the slight wispy strands at the nape of his neck, making Steve tilt his head back and to the side slightly to lean into her touch, nuzzling her forearm with his cheek and grinning slightly, hope starting to bloom in his chest.
Toni’s lips quirked up, and she’d laughed softly, under her breath.
“That’s a yes, you adorkable idiot."
When Steve woke up the next morning, Toni was in his arms, sprawled across the mattress, her hair a dark halo around her head and her legs tangled with his.
Toni was stretched lazily across the entire bed, limbs splayed out as she shifts in her sleep, her baggy top rucked up around her ribs. The genius was quite obviously the blanket hoarder that Steve’d already suspected of her, the covers twisted up around her lean form as her sleeping posture abruptly changed to sprawl across the entire bed unconsciously as Steve untangled himself from her octopus grasp.
Steve couldn’t resist.
He reached under his bed and pulls out his sketchbook, graphite already in hand as he began sketching across the paper in long, loose strokes, shapes forming under his fingers.
He’s almost done by the time Toni starts to stir, and when a tanned, olive-skinned hand reached up and neatly plucked the book out of his hands.
Toni smiled openly after staring at the book for a long moment, her eyes meeting his. She stretched languidly, almost feline-like, before arching up, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and pulling him down to kiss him chastely on the lips.
When she pulled back, Steve was grinning dazedly at her, leaning forward until his forehead was pressed to hers.
“You know,” he started. “There’s a theory about us artists.”
Toni cocked her head, a slight smile playing on her lips. Go on, her expression seemed to say.
Steve’s smile widened just that bit more. “That we have to fall at least a little bit in love with our subjects.”