Pleasantries
Following the little car incident, Steve half-expected Tony to become more distant for a while. To his surprise, though, they now shared even more spaces than before.
On top of Tony's navigation skills being about as elusive as a unicorn in the city; his driving skills proved to be less than stellar. Steve was starting to wonder if there was a genuine conspiracy against Tony's sense of direction, because it looked like the steering wheel was an enigma wrapped in a mystery to him, it seemed nearly impossible for Tony to coordinate his movements behind.
One morning in the elevator, Tony simply handed him the car keys. One fateful morning in the elevator, Tony simply handed over the car keys. Now, Steve held a valid license and considered himself a reasonably capable driver, but he also knew the Grand Canyon-sized gap between handling his mother's old sedan and Tony's sports car - which was practically a Batmobile on steroids. Nevertheless, he took the wheel, turning their commutes into high-speed roller coaster rides in the final days of the semester.
He took a weird sort of pride in it, since it did accidentally launch his popularity into the stratosphere. The downside? Now half the campus thought he and Tony were the hottest item since sliced bread. With Natasha's natural chemistry with Tony, they were practically inseparable at the university, adding fuel to the rumor mill.
It looked like Steve's dating life was taking another extended vacation.
On the flip side, Tony’s was thriving.
From the moment he set foot on campus, admirers flocked to him like he was giving out free concert tickets. It was sometimes surreal, like living next door to a rock star. The comments swirling around about Tony felt like they were straight from a gossip magazine. There was a certain amusement in knowing that behind the genius engineer facade was the most disorganized tornado of a person Steve had ever met.
Maybe public opinion would shift if they saw him in his most disheveled state, desperately waiting for his laundry, or if they knew he'd left his own bag at home more times than he could count. Tony was far from the unblemished figure the rumors painted him to be; he was, in fact, a mere mortal with quirks and mishaps aplenty.
These moments, witnessed only by Steve, felt like his own little triumphs in their ongoing war.
Apart from the persistent lack of sleep, which remained his primary concern, having Tony around felt oddly invigorating. Unlike the previous semester, where he struggled to forge connections and his social life hinged solely on Natasha and a coworker he'd been casually seeing, this semester seemed to offer little solitude. The brunette was a constant presence, one way or another.
Even though he put on an act of irritation, Tony managed to evoke a sense of homeliness in Steve. It was akin to being back in his childhood home, surrounded by the familiar presence of his mother and the immediate camaraderie of lifelong friends.
Despite Tony's deliberate efforts to disrupt his life, Steve found himself reluctant to let him drift too far, at least not until he felt truly settled in.
☆☆☆
As had become customary, on Friday afternoons both Tony and Steve returned from university. Unlike the last few weeks, today the silence between them felt less like a volcano about to erupt and more like a catnap in the eye of a hurricane.
Maybe it was the impressive dark circles that Tony's sunglasses couldn't mask, or perhaps it was Steve, who wore his exhaustion like a badge of honor.
The ravages of war were beginning to fall heavily on the shoulders of both young men.
The elevator doors slid open, revealing the familiar hallway of the seventh floor. Steve and Tony stepped out, side by side.
"Look, we need to talk," Steve declared, his tone carrying the weight of a thousand late-night disturbances.
Tony arched an eyebrow, his guard momentarily dropping. "I was kind of enjoying this silence you know"
"Alright, Stark, let's cut to the chase," his tone clipped and to the point. "I've my final project due Monday, and I can't afford any more disruptions. I'm proposing a truce. No noise, no smoke. Just peace, for the weekend."
Tony had a sardonic grin playing on his lips. "Peace, huh? How novel. And what's in it for me, Rogers?"
Steve let out a short, humorless laugh. "Well, considering you've been keeping the entire floor awake with your late-night symphonies, I'd say a bit of quiet might do wonders for your reputation."
Tony feigned offense, a hand pressed dramatically to his chest. "Oh, you wound me, Rogers. Here I thought you were just a big fan of my music taste."
Steve shot him a dry look. "I wasn’t talking about music, Stark."
They stood there for a moment, the silence between them heavy with unspoken tension. Then, with a dramatic sigh, Tony relented. "I have to study as well."
"So, we have a deal then?" Steve asked, extending a hand, his face a mix of determination and exhaustion.
Tony raised an eyebrow, but then, with a smirk, he shook Steve's hand. "Truce until Monday.”
The tension between them momentarily replaced by a sense of mutual agreement. Both of their gazes collided tiredly.
Steve nodded in agreement. They shook on it, the grip firm and business-like. "Agreed."
☆☆☆
The sun had cast long, dappled shadows on Tony's apartment, coaxing him into a much-needed nap. It was one of those rare moments of tranquility amidst the chaos that had become his daily life. When he finally awoke, his head felt clear, and he was greeted by a series of messages inviting him to a party.
Natasha's earlier invitation echoed in his mind, and he realized he had promised to join her. The prospect of a night out seemed like the perfect way to reset before diving back into the last effort for his studies in the semester. With newfound energy, he set about getting ready.
As he descended the entrance of his building, he encountered a familiar figure, completely distracted while taking pictures of the buildings.
"Is this how you spend your free time?" Tony quipped.
Steve's head turned, unveiling a smile that could rival the brilliance of midday sun. "Actually, I'm waiting for someone. We're headed to a party."
"What a coincidence. I'm here to meet someone for a party too."
Their gazes locked for a moment, a touch of bewilderment in their eyes.
"Did Nat invite you?" Tony inquired, after a brief analytical pause.
Steve let out a rueful chuckle. "Damn, she said she had a cute friend."
Tony couldn't suppress a playful grin. "Oh, she thinks I'm cute? Well, she did call you a 'handsome friend,' so I'm not entirely sure about her judgment now."
As luck would have it, a taxi rounded the corner just as they exchanged playful banter. They hailed it together, their movements synchronized giving them an irk of annoyance.
"Looks like we're sharing a ride then," Tony remarked.
Steve nodded, a grin playing on his lips. "Seems like it."
Once they were settled in the back seat, the initial awkwardness began to dissolve. Tony glanced out the window at the passing cityscape, then turned back to Steve.
"So, Steve, what's your story with buildings?" Tony inquired, genuinely curious.
Steve's face lit up with a quiet enthusiasm. "Ah, well, when I was little I used to live in a hole under the ground, so I always though having an actual house would be nice."
"I can't actually tell if you are being serious" and that gained an actual laugh from Steve "Oh, you think you're so funny"
"I am funny, and honestly there's not a lot of story for that, I always liked drawing and painting and then I discovered buildings had their own kind of language, so I fell for it."
He gestured to a grand old building they were passing. "For example, look at that one, with a bit of restoration, it could reclaim its former glory."
Tony found himself drawn in by Steve's passion, listening intently as he continued to point out various architectural nuances along their route. As the conversation flowed, Steve's knowledge and love for his field became increasingly evident.
"And there," Steve concluded, pointing to a sleek, modern skyscraper, "is a testament to the marriage of form and function. It's amazing how design can shape our environment."
Tony was captivated, absorbing every word. Steve's enthusiasm was infectious, and he found himself caught up in the narrative of structures brought to life through one man's vision.
As he let himself be enveloped by the cadence of Steve's voice. The words flowed effortlessly, painting vivid pictures of the structures that dotted the cityscape.
Then, in a moment of unfiltered candor, Tony slipped.
"Art nerds are so hot," he remarked, completely distracted.
"Thanks?" And Steve's voice was a snap back to reality.
"That wasn't meant for you" he tried to save the situation.
"Nah, that was totally meant for me."
As the taxi pulled up to the vibrant venue, Tony couldn't help but feel grateful for the timely distraction of their conversation. It had not only eased the initial tension but also allowed him to momentarily forget the underlying animosity between them. The chatter and laughter that spilled from the party seemed to embrace him, pulling him out of his own head and into the lively atmosphere. With a newfound lightness in his step, Tony stepped out of the cab, ready to face the night with a renewed sense of enthusiasm.