Canvas of discord
When they next encountered each other, in the elevator like most Thursday mornings, there was a palpable tension in the air. Tony's gaze bore into Steve's, a challenge lurking beneath the surface.
"So, filed a complaint about the noise, did you?" Tony's voice dripped with sarcasm.
Steve met his gaze evenly. "Just returning the favor," he replied, a pleased smile playing on his lips.
Tony's grin widened, a devilish glint in his eye. "Ow, how nice of you! Please tell me how you like your noise, is it loud enough? 'Cause I’m gonna make sure it is."
It was a declaration of war, plain and simple. Steve wasn't a stranger to having enemies, but everything about Stark was tinted in a way that made him feel a thousand times more into it.
"Please do," Steve shot back, his tone cool and collected. "I think it will be the perfect company for the inhuman amount of weed I’ll be burning."
The elevator chimed, signaling their arrival on the ground floor. They stepped out, fake smiles plastered on their faces, the tension between them palpable.
"Pleasure doing business with you, Stark," Steve quipped in a mockingly polite tone.
"The feeling's mutual, Rogers," Tony retorted, his own smile equally artificial.
Steve and Tony stepped into the hallway, a peculiar air of normalcy mingling with the tension. They set off in almost perfect sync. Steve's long strides seemed to challenge Tony, who, in a valiant effort, matched his pace despite the clear struggle.
"You might want to pick up the pace if you don't want to get lost," Steve advised, his tone nonchalant.
Tony shot him an indignant glare, a silent retort hanging in the air. "I can get there myself," he asserted, determination flashing in his eyes.
Steve, unfazed, continued on his way. Time was on his side, and he had a knack for arriving early. Tony trailed behind him, relying on Steve's familiarity with the route. It wasn't long before Steve took an unplanned detour—a little reckless, perhaps, but he hadn't exactly explored much beyond the university and work routes. Luckily, it led them to a coffee shop.
"Where are we?"
Casting a quick glance at Tony, Steve's smile gave nothing away. Tony, however, took the hint and flushed with anger.
Inside the coffee shop, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee embraced Steve, beckoning him toward the counter. His sleep-deprived eyes scanned the menu, settling on a strong, black brew promising to jolt him awake. As he approached the counter, he exchanged a few pleasantries with the barista, her cheerful demeanor a stark contrast to the weariness etched on Steve's face.
Meanwhile, through the glass panes, he caught a glimpse of Tony standing outside, engrossed in his phone. The early morning light cast a soft glow on the brunette's features, illuminating the focused expression on his face. It was a curious sight.
He was likely consulting a map to get his bearings. Just as he was engrossed in his digital guide, a stranger approached, hemming Tony in against the café's display case.
The subtle hum of conversation enveloped Steve as he stood in line, his gaze darting between the menu and the scene outside. He watched intently as Tony, engrossed in conversation, appeared oblivious to the potential danger looming. Steve's instincts were on high alert, the protective impulse battling with his lingering irritation towards Tony. He clenched his fists, the urge to intervene nearly overwhelming.
As his order was called, Steve couldn't tear his eyes away. With a final glance, he strode purposefully towards the door. The chilly morning air hit him as he stepped outside, finding Tony in conversation with a stranger. The man's demeanor set off alarm bells in Steve's head.
With calculated authority, he stepped forward, his voice carrying an air of command. "That's how you get robbed," he declared, asserting his presence. The stranger's eyes widened, taken aback by the sudden intervention, and he promptly disappeared into the streets.
Tony's gaze flickered between Steve and the now empty spot, "Oh, he was actually being nice though," Tony chimed in, his voice tinged with amusement.
Steve couldn't help but roll his eyes, though a smile tugged at his lips. "Hmmm yeah, whatever you say," he retorted, his tone lightened by the hint of a smirk.
Turning away, he began to walk, a renewed sense of purpose guiding his steps. Tony followed close behind, and Steve couldn't deny the warmth that bloomed within him. His alpha instincts had kicked in, and he couldn't help but feel a strange satisfaction in knowing he had Tony's back, even if it was against a relatively harmless stranger. Together, they continued on their way, this time bound for the university.
☆☆☆
In the days that followed, the apartment building became a battleground, a constant back-and-forth of noise and retaliation. Each morning brought a new salvo, a fresh attempt to outdo the other in a game that had no clear victor.
The floor became a swirling clash of noise and smoke that seemed to hang in the air like an ominous fog. It was a stark contrast to the classic decorations that adorned the walls - ornate sconces bathed in warm light, casting intricate patterns of shadows that danced along the length of the corridor.
But amidst the delicate décor, the echoes of battle reverberated. The distant strains of music mingled with the sharp clang of tools, a symphony of chaos that seemed to pulse with a life of its own. The scent of smoke, both from Tony's projects and Steve's chosen vice, hung in the air, the faint scent of grass wafting through the hallway served as a constant reminder that peace was a fragile commodity.
As Steve and Tony passed each other in the narrow corridor, their gazes locked in a silent challenge, it was as if the very walls bore witness to the clash of wills. That specific morning they seemed to have chosen silence over the annoying comments that had become common between them.
In the midst of it all, the hallway stood as a silent observer, its walls holding the echoes of their battles. It was a space that bore witness to their shared experience, a canvas upon which their discord was painted in bold strokes of noise and smoke.
The ride in the elevator was also silent and he could feel for a moment that Steve was falling asleep, yet he didn't comment, taking it as another small victory.
In the midst of homesickness, Tony found himself oddly comforted by the chaos and clamor around him. The occasional puffs of smoke seemed to fill the empty spaces, providing a peculiar sense of company, a constant reminder that he wasn't entirely alone in this new city. Even if Steve harbored resentment, he was reliably present when Tony genuinely needed assistance. It was a peculiar kind of diplomacy, but it provided a sense of stability in an otherwise disorienting time.
Navigating the city proved to be a daunting task for Tony. Every corner seemed to hold a labyrinth of unfamiliar streets and winding alleys, and the sheer size of it all was overwhelming. He'd been accustomed to the quiet seclusion of his home, isolated from the hustle and bustle of urban life, thanks to homeschooling. On the rare occasions he ventured out, there was always a companion to guide him, a buffer against the intimidating expanse of the cityscape.
The city's energy was palpable, but it was different from what Tony remembered. People were friendly, yes, but there was an underlying intensity, an edge that he hadn't experienced in a long time. It was a contrast to the protective cocoon of his former environment.
Yet, even after weeks of conflict, Steve still took the time to escort him to the university. Perhaps, at some point, Tony should muster the will to truly learn the way. But for now, he savored the sight of Steve's bleary-eyed expressions, relishing in any reaction he could provoke from the blonde. It was a dance, a delicate interplay of wanting Steve's attention while also enjoying a bit of mischief.
While Tony had no desire to see Steve move out or resort to complete avoidance – that would just be downright depressing – this battle of wills felt more like an entertaining waltz. A dance with its own rhythm, where each step forward was met with a playful step back.
☆☆☆
Steve was never one to back down from a challenge. He met each of Tony’s attacks with gusto, orchestrating disruptions with the precision of a maestro. The hallway echoed with their silent duel, a dance of one-upmanship that showed no signs of slowing down.
Desperation gnawed at Steve. He longed for a moment of respite, a chance to focus on his studies without the constant backdrop of noise.
And fate rewarded him with an opportunity.
That came in the sight of Tony stepping out of a sleek red sports car that sent a ripple through Steve.
"New toy?" he quipped, eyeing the vehicle with mild amusement.
"Late birthday gift from my parents," Tony replied, a hint of pride in his voice.
"Very pretty," Steve conceded, a smile playing on his lips.
"Thank you. If you behave, maybe I'll take you for a ride," Tony teased.
"If, by some cosmic alignment, you’re better at driving than walking, then I might consider it."
For a brief moment, Tony's smile wavered, confirming Steve's suspicions. But he maintained his composure, offering a congenial smile as they rode the elevator up. It was only when he stepped into his own apartment that he released a manic burst of laughter, unable to contain his amusement.
Even though finals kept him from seeing Natasha as much as he'd like, they managed to catch up for a brief chat in the hallway that day. She mentioned an impending test in her class, a class she casually shared with Tony Stark. The professor, it seemed, had a reputation for being punctuality's staunchest advocate, and Steve saw his chance.
That night, Steve cleared away architectural plans strewn across his apartment from the semester. With a rare day off from work and the sun still hiding beneath the horizon, he dedicated himself to meticulously wrapping Tony's car in paper and tape, adding a touch of whimsy to the makeshift gift.
Settling down, Steve observed the day unfold, relishing the fresh air as he awaited Tony's reaction. He knew he might have taken things a step too far, investing more time than warranted, but the payoff was well worth it. Tony's flustered expression when he saw the car confirmed this.
"I figured a little gift wrap would be nice, considering it was a present," Steve quipped.
"I wish you had suffocated in your crib," Tony retorted, feigning annoyance.
"Oh, come on. It's got character now," Steve needled.
"Sure, thanks," Tony replied with a smile so artificial it could've been a Picasso.
"Well, if you start now, you might make it in time. Though, I can't promise an easy tape removal," Steve added with a mischievous grin.
Tony looked on the verge of a pout, his eyes shimmering. Steve almost wondered if it was deliberate, and for a moment, he felt like a fool. He even toyed with the idea of unwrapping the car himself to erase that expression. But he held his ground; he wouldn't be swayed by a mere puppy-dog look.
“Please take me,” Steve could practically feel the physical pain it had caused Tony to ask for help, but that day he felt the particular mood to keep teasing.
"You could always use maps," Steve suggested.
"Okay, fine, but if I get lost and end up kidnapped, it's on you," Tony grumbled, engrossed in his phone.
Despite the satisfaction coursing through Steve, Tony's last comment struck a chord. The city wasn't exactly the safest, and with Tony's notorious lack of an internal GPS and willingness to follow strangers, he'd be an easy target.
After trailing Tony for several blocks, it became painfully evident that the brunette had already veered off course. Steve couldn't help but think how strange it was to follow someone else down the street, so finally with a mildly exasperated gesture, he signaled for Tony to follow him.
Throughout the journey, Steve did his best to ignore the smug look radiating from Tony. He still managed to make him late, just enough to save face and ensure Tony didn't think he'd been completely outfoxed by a few fluttering eyelashes.