18.
Tony was not easily offended. Not at all, not even a little bit. And jealous? Well, of course not! So when he helped Bruce moved the last box and then took him to his labs, he wasn't offended when his Science Bro stopped listening to him the moment the door opened. And when he started ignoring him completely by the moment Tony told him he could use anything he found in the lab, he was completely at ease. Really, he understood Bruce's enthusiasm and knew full well how amazing the labs in Stark Tower were. After all, he'd designed them himself.
So, that being said, Tony wasn't the least bit offended. Twice he tried to draw attention to himself, but Bruce was fully engaged with the monitor and the data transfer concerning his research and only responded to Tony with grunts or empty sentences as if he were talking to an annoying child.
"I'll throw spiders in your bed. The big hairy ones you love so much."
"Sounds great, Tony," Bruce assured him dispassionately, whereupon he began to mumble something about the aforementioned research. Tony turned on his heel and disappeared back into the elevator, definitely not offended.
"If I didn't know you, sir, I'd think you were jealous of your own spectrometer." Jarvis sounded as if he was actually amused. Tony didn't answer, just folded his arms across his chest and tried his best not to pout his lips. Because Tony Stark was not an easily offended man.
"Is Steve back yet?"
"Yes, sir. He's upstairs, sketching. Shall I tell him you're asking for him?"
"No, thanks, Jarv." He waved his hand and his mood improved a little again. Steve wasn't going to ignore him. Tony was going to have his full attention, and he was going to be able to complain until Steve’s head was ready to explode. He grinned in satisfaction and nodded.
He stood in the middle of the room for a moment, rocking back on his heels and looking around. His gaze drifted down to the sofa and a pleasant chill ran down his back. Most of the time Tony's nightly activities blurred into blurry images and he remembered things only vaguely, alcohol in his blood or not. But the memories of last night were quite clear, and when he closed his eyes, his groin clenched and he saw nothing but that incredibly blue lustful gaze of his super soldier. His, he thought proudly.
However, speaking of him, where was he? He swept the room with his gaze again, but it was empty. Nothing had changed since the morning, except for the newspapers on the kitchen island and the absence of their clothes, which they had left strewn across the floor last night. He had no doubt that it was Steve who had cleaned up after them. The man was a neat freak. Tony had gone into Steve’s apartment in the tower once, just because he wanted to, and if he hadn't seen the jacket draped over the chair and the sketchbooks on the table, he would have thought Steve didn't live there. The army had trained him perfectly, he thought then. Oh God, does he still clean the floor with a toothbrush? He'll have to ask!
Tony finally noticed him. Steve was sitting in a rattan chair outside on the terrace - Tony didn't even remember there being rattan furniture anywhere in the tower, it was probably bought by Pepper - with his feet propped up on the glass railing. He quickly wrapped himself in a blanket and followed him out into the cold.
"Tired of the twenty-first century and want to go back to the ice?" Tony asked casually, walking up to him. Steve looked up, and though he smiled broadly, he looked like he didn’t understand Tony’s remark. Tony brushed a layer of snow off Steve’s shoulder.
"How long have you been sitting here?"
"Oh..." Steve looked thoughtfully at himself and blinked in surprise at his snow-covered legs. Hadn't he realized he was covered in snow? Tony glanced at the sketchpad resting on his lap. Steve had just drawn a ballerina that bore a striking resemblance to Natasha, but Tony could tell by the other wet, wavy pages that this wasn't the first drawing he'd done outside. Nor was it the second.
"I've lost track of time," Steve admitted, a little embarrassed, taking his feet off the railing. With a grimace, he stretched. His cheeks and ears were red with frost, and Tony was surprised he was still able to move his fingers. Shaking his head in disbelief, he picked up the mug of tea from the ground and swirled it. A thin crust of ice had already formed on the surface.
"Well, I can see that. Look, I won't be here in another seventy years so you better not crawl back into the ice. I’m sure you don’t want to miss this beauty." He grinned and punched him lightly in the shoulder. "Come on in, popsicle. I'll make you some tea."
Then he turned on his heel and headed back to the door. Steve may have had a different thermoregulation, but Tony didn't and he wasn't going to freeze to death. Tony didn't like the cold, never had and wasn't about to change that. He only tolerated snow when he went skiing in the Alps, but he always took it over Zanzibar on the way back anyway and spent many hour on the beach. Did Steve know how to ski? Probably not, but that was fixable.
Steve joined him immediately, slipping out of his jacket and slumping onto a bar stool while Tony set about making tea and coffee.
"How did the moving go?"
"Fine," Tony shrugged and frowned. "Until I showed Bruce the labs. He traded me for all those toys, you know?"
Tony knew he couldn't suppress the offended pout on his lips this time, but he didn't care, he could in front of Steve.
"That was rude indeed," Steve acknowledged with a serious expression, also frowning, but the corners of his mouth twitched into a smile. His gaze however stayed on Tony’s lips and Tony pretended he hadn’t done the same. Memories of last night came flooding back, and it was only through sheer force of will that he stifled an utterly undignified groan. If he could spend the rest of eternity with just Steve and his lips, he would be happy and never complain.
"Yes, very rude." With his hands folded on his chest, Tony pouted even more, watching Steve intently. He saw his Adam apple jump and his eyes darken. The pleasant tingle was back as was the familiar pressure in his groin.
"Maybe I can make it up to you somehow."
"Do you have something specific in mind?" Tony raised his eyebrows and couldn't help a triumphant smile as Steve slid off the stool and strode towards him. He walked slowly, gracefully, like a beast on the hunt (which was an interesting simile considering Tony had referred to him as a puppy a few hours ago) and his gaze never left Tony's eyes for a moment. Steve grabbed the back of Tony’s head gently and Tony lowered his hands and placed them on his hips. Steve's palms were huge. Tony had never considered himself a small man, but he felt tiny compared to the super soldier. The surprising thing was that it didn't bother him at all.
Steve dropped his gaze to Tony's lips before looking up again. Tony narrowed his eyes with a smile. This time there was no request for permission, he pressed his lips to his before Steve could speak. He heard Steve chuckle softly but didn't protest. He returned the kiss willingly, and the next moment Tony lost his footing.
Steve seated him on the kitchen island and continued to plunder his mouth. Tony melted under his hands. He wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck and hooked his legs behind his thighs, just to push him as close as he could. Many times over the previous months he had wondered if kissing a guy was different. And no, there was nothing to it. Still the same work with lips and tongue. Maybe even better.
It was definitely better.
They both jerked as the coffee machine beeped and Tony cursed Jarvis inwardly. It'd never beeped before, of that, he was absolutely certain. What the hell was Jarvis' problem?
Steve looked over his shoulder at the coffee machine and chuckled softly before turning back again and taking half a step back. Tony grunted in displeasure, trying to catch his breath. The soldier smiled sweetly at him.
"You're not pouting anymore."
"I wasn't pouting!" Tony objected, folding his arms across his chest. Phew, such lies! Steve just shook his head and pressed one last kiss to his lips before walking over to the coffee machine and pouring them both a cup of coffee. He took advantage of it, biting his lip and admiring Steve's ass. He realized with horror that he hadn't even touched it yesterday! Disaster, he'd have to make up for it!
Tony took the offered mug and something else caught his attention. Frowning, he grabbed Steve's chin and tilted his head to the side. He hadn't noticed before, for his cheeks were red with frost. Steve sighed. A red spot stretched just below his eye, slowly but surely beginning to take on a purple hue. Tony raised an eyebrow.
"Now, how about you tell Uncle Scrooge where you got that bruise?"
"You're not a scrooge, Tony," Steve countered immediately, trying to divert attention elsewhere. He wasn't very good at it, but Tony went along with his game. He knew he'd get it out of him eventually anyway.
"Maybe not, but he was my favourite character from DuckTales. He was funny, rich, greedy and had an amazing top hat. I wanted to get one of those, but it's not fashionable to wear them nowadays, unfortunately."
Steve was silent and smiled awkwardly and uncomprehendingly. Tony rolled his eyes.
"Oh, right, you don't know DuckTales. Never mind, you'll catch up," he waved his hand. "And did you know that Uncle Scrooge liked to bathe in money? Really! I wanted to try it once. I took out five thousand dollars in pennies only and had them pour it into an empty pool. I almost broke my nose when I jumped in," he laughed at the memory. He had almost a whole bottle of whiskey in him at the time, and if his memories were correct, he also used some white powder. Yeah, such days were amazing. But Steve didn't need to know that.
"Anyway, back on topic! Who hit you? I thought you were just going to check out some scientists. Did he get mad when you touched his petri dishes? Don't touch scientists’ gadgets, Steve."
"No, Tony. He was already dead when we got here."
Tony paused and gave Steve another searching look. He detected no hint of guilt, which was good. Steve had a habit of blaming himself even for things he couldn't help.
"Oh... That's unpleasant... Something got out of hand?"
"Yeah, showering," Stev grinned unenthusiastically. "Apparently he slipped and cracked his head on the toilet bowl."
"He slipped in the shower? I can't believe such a death is actually real."
"You've never slipped in the shower?"
"Of course not! I mean, I'm sure I did, but I must have been drunk and I don't remember... So, it wasn't the scientist and it doesn't seem likely that you'd be hit by his corpse... So, who was it?"
Steve was silent. He averted his gaze, let out a long sigh, and carefully sipped from his mug. Tony waited patiently, watching him as he ran one foot over his thigh again.
"Agent Cohen," he finally muttered, almost inaudibly. Tony cocked an uncomprehending eyebrow.
"And why did the agent hit you? Did you make some sexist remarks? Steve, you're not supposed to do that these days! You'll piss off the feminists."
Steve laughed softly and shook his head, "No, Tony, I didn't say anything to her. It's just..." he sighed again and looked up at him, "I went on a date with her some time ago."
"Ah... And that's why she hit you today? Why are you even meeting with women when you're pretty clearly aware that you're not into them?"
Tony was thoroughly confused. He didn't think Steve was going out with anyone. He was talking to Clint and Bruce about it! The Avengers were the only people Steve hung out with, besides Peggy and Sam Wilson. And now that he knew 100% about Steve's orientation, it made even less sense.
"Natasha arranged it, and I thought it really rude to turn Agent Cohen down."
Oh, yeah! The Scary Amazon stepped in and decided to make our closeted soldier go on a date. Clever. And totally useless, Nat, totally useless. Tony was inwardly smouldering with pride that he knew something Natasha hadn't found out yet.
"Hmmm, yeah, that sounds like you. And you haven't got in touch with her ever since, she got mad and hit you?"
"Sort of," Steve nodded, sighing a third time. He reached for the newspaper next to Tony and handed it to him. "And she also saw this."
Tony felt his heart drop down to his pants. He put down his mug and unfolded the newspaper uncertainly, even though he clearly knew what would be in it. He hadn't seen the paper today, but if Steve had been punched by a girl who had gotten her hopes up with him, there could only be one thing in it.
And yes, his assumption was immediately confirmed.
"Aha! Ah... Oh... I haven't seen those yet. Well, we look good on these, don't you think?" he got out with feigned enthusiasm. His voice almost broke towards the end. Steve smiled indulgently.
The front page was adorned with photographs of him and Steve, one from the cemetery when Steve held him in his arms; the other from the mall. The photographer had been clever, managing to snap them just as Tony had his hand on Steve's. Of course, everything was accompanied by a huge caption and a short text, containing only speculation about their relationship and a mention of the anniversary of Tony's parents' death. Of course, the paparazzi knew that. The whole world knew that Tony only visited their graves once a year. His stomach twisted in disgust, some people were just spineless bastards and took pictures of famous people even in cemeteries! Tony made a mental note to sue them. Mental harm, invasion of privacy, that sort of thing.
Tony looked up cautiously. Steve meanwhile walked back to the bar stool and sat down. He was now resting his elbows on the bar, supporting his chin with interlaced fingers and absently watching the level of coffee in his mug. Tony searched his face, incredibly relieved. Tony knew he would never forget the look on Steve’s face when he saw Bettany’s article for the first time.
He'd seen Steve face an army of aliens, he'd seen him face a moving tank, he'd seen him face the Hulk! And always with only a shield in his hand. And never, not once, did Steve look afraid. But when Jarvis showed them the front page of the Daily News that day, Steve had a look of sheer terror on his face. The kind of fear Tony knew he would never fully understand.
Tony threw the paper in the bin and walked back to Steve, wrapping his arms around Steve’s shoulders. Steve looked up. He smiled slightly. He wasn't scared, thank God he wasn't. Rather, he looked like he'd had enough. He'd managed to admit the truth about himself to a bunch of kids (and he was very lucky none of them had filmed it. Tony had been keeping an eye on it and no such video had surfaced yet) and Tony, but he obviously wasn't ready for the whole world to know. Tony sighed.
He could tell Jarvis to pull all the photos and articles off the internet, that wouldn't be a problem. He could have used his contacts and avoided any more articles in the paper. But that would be like flying over New York with a huge sign proclaiming "I'm sleeping with Captain America!" It would just confirm everything.
This way they had nothing but a few pictures and a lot of theories. And yes, people are grasping at that like flies at honey too, but until either one confirms anything, it won't be official. Tony didn't care what people said about him. Over the years, he'd gotten used to it and learned that there was no point in fighting the media pigs. But Steve did care.
Tony squeezed his shoulder and sat down on the other stool. With his chin in his hand, he thought some more. They were both quiet, the atmosphere not outright uncomfortable, but not as relaxed as before.
"Anyone else have any comments?"
Steve shook his head. "No, no one. A few people looked at me strangely, but it might have been only my imagination." He shrugged uncertainly. Tony nodded.
"Okay, that's good. Let's just be more discreet when we're out together. Not that it happens often," he chuckled. Steve turned his eyes to him. He looked him over carefully, as if expecting Tony to not mean it and burst out laughing. He didn't, just winked at Steve.
"Would you not mind...?" He asked cautiously. "I... Well, I thought I wouldn't mind talking about it in public... But I guess I miscalculated." He chuckled and shook his head at that. He seemed ashamed of himself. Tony grinned and took Steve’s hand in his for a moment. Honestly, he was grateful he didn't have an internal block like Steve did. He might as well go on camera right now, tell the whole world, and get a good night's sleep.
"Take it easy, Steve. It hasn't even been twenty-four hours since we… that we... Hm. Something's happened." He gestured with his hand between them with a thoughtful frown. He had no idea what to call it. It wasn't a one-time thing, but it wasn't happily ever after either. Yeah, the silly hand-waving had to be enough for them for now.
"Exactly," Steve agreed tensely, copying the movement of his hand. "Plus, you said yourself you don't know if it'll even work."
"Yeah, yeah, that's what I said."
"You said that. Yeah. So maybe we don't need to talk to anyone about it yet?" Steve suggested, and Tony immediately nodded. Yeah. Yeah, that sounded like a plan. Except Clint would figure it out quickly... And Pepper had actually said it before anything happened. And Bruce was living with them now, and even though he usually pretended he couldn't count to five, his seven Ph.D.s were proof enough that he had a pretty impressive brain capacity. Although, in many ways, he was downright dumb. Unless there were changes, he still hadn't figured out that Natasha was head over heels in love with him.
Eventually, they agreed that if it came to that, they wouldn't keep it a secret from the team. Tony told him that Clint will probably connect the dots, and Steve admitted that Natasha had a hunch too, and she'd figure it out the moment she saw the paper. So yes, they were confined to a small circle of friends and Tony hoped that Steve was happy with that. He had definitely relaxed and the conversation had stopped being so awkward.
He chose to inform only Pepper. Happy was a great guy, but sometimes he didn't know when to keep his mouth shut. And he wasn't sure about Rhodey. He still had that last phone call in the back of his mind, and while he was pretty sure he was freaking out like that just from the idea that Tony had seduced and corrupted a national icon (seriously, Rhodey, you have no idea who was corrupting who), he wasn't 100% sure. What if Rhodey is a closet homophobe and Tony was so blind he hadn't even noticed all these years? What a horrifying thought!
They finished their coffee in finally some comfortable silence, whereupon Steve handed Tony his watch and flash drive. Tony clapped his hands together.
"Finally some dirty secrets!" He exclaimed excitedly and raced into the workshop. "Come on!"
Tony didn't wait for him. He ran down the stairs and immediately threw himself into a chair. "Jarvi, dear, get up. We have work to do. And we'll talk more about that coffee machine later."
"I was just testing to see if it was working properly, sir," he defended sourly. Tony shot one of the cameras a surly look. Was it possible that his Jarvis was homophobic? If so, there must have been a bug in the code and it needed to be fixed.
Jarvis turned on all the screens and projected the data from the flash drive and the watch. Tony scratched his hair and beard. "This is going to take a while."
"How long?" Steve stood behind him, arms folded, watching the screens with a curious eye. It was clear to Tony that he didn't understand anything he was seeing, but honestly, even Tony would need a moment to understand. Natasha was able to copy the contents of the computer to disk (he was sure Steve hadn't done it... No, Steve had barely learned to use Google), but everything was perfectly encrypted.
"Well, we'll see." Tony turned to Steve. "A few hours, probably."
"Okay," he nodded, hesitating for a moment. Eventually, though, he leaned down, kissed Tony briefly on the lips, and went to sit on the couch. Tony licked his lips and noticed that Steve had brought his sketchbook. Well done, everyone has a job to do.
He shook his head to banish thoughts of those pink lips he'd rather have back on his own right now and turned back to the screens. Seriously, when had he become so addicted to someone's touches and kisses? You're getting old, Stark.
"Here we go. Jarvi, play me something."
The tones of his favourite Black Sabbath filled the workshop, and he set to work with newfound vigour. He managed to banish all thoughts of Steve and his lips from his mind (not an easy task) and fully immersed himself in deciphering the data he had obtained. And hell, that wasn't an easy task either. Tony was quite sorry that the scientist was dead because a man who could encrypt his work in such a thoughtful manner deserved Tony Stark's appreciation.
On the other hand, it made him a little nervous. The dead scientist must have been working on something really secret and dangerous if he didn't want just anyone to get their hands on it. Tony wondered if Fury would be able to do it. He didn't doubt that SHIELD was full of capable people, but honestly, no one was smarter than him and Jarvis. If Fury doesn't know how to do it, he'll never get into that computer.
His work was all coming together. He didn't realize how long he'd been working. Every now and then a mug of coffee appeared on his desk, and later a mug of tea, which was an incredibly nice gesture, and Tony figured he had to thank Steve later. He did have to spike his tea with something a little sharper, and he could feel two blue eyes trying to burn into the back of his head as he did so, but it didn't matter.
The soldier was quiet the whole time. He was drawing, working on something, and at one point Tony caught him playing with his robots. He paused at the sight. Steve was smiling and kept throwing Dum-E and U a pillow. On nine out of ten throws they didn't catch it, but Steve didn't give up and kept going. Eventually, they always caught him and even threw it back to him and yes, Tony just watched them for several minutes without moving. It was strangely endearing to see Steve playing with his robot children!
"Don't spoil them," Tony warned him. "Then they'll want me to play with them and they won't want to work."
Steve just smiled brightly, and Dum-E turned to Tony and snapped his pliers before turning his attention to Steve. Tony puffed out his cheeks in offence, Dum-E was being rude to him!
"I'm going to turn you into a coffee maker," he threatened and went back to work. Steve laughed softly, Dum-E continued to be cheeky, U pretended not to know what was going on and Tony wondered when was the last time he had been able to work with anyone else in the room. Yeah, probably never.
Tony only realised that Steve was gone when the two robots reappeared at his side. Tony gave them an offended look and promised to give them a talk before looking around the workshop. Yep, Steve was gone, but he'd left his sketchpad behind, so he was probably planning on coming back. Seriously, the guy moved like a ghost.
Tony turned back to the screens and surveyed the progress so far. He'd managed to crack it, and now he was just waiting for Jarvis to finish the work. Well done.
"Fingers crossed for you, Jarvis," he announced, darting over to the sofa. He'd never seen Steve's sketches and he wasn't going to pass up this opportunity. He flipped through it hurriedly and whistled admiringly. Steve was really good. He drew a lot and apparently, everything he saw. The pages were filled with mundane things, portraits, and apparently abstract art, or so it seemed. Not that Tony knew anything about it. Art went beyond him and he never understood what people saw in it. He could still understand the Mona Lisa, at least one could tell what one was looking at. But paintings by Michelle Hold, which Pepper has recently stubbornly added to his collection? After all, they were nothing more than doodles that a kindergartener could do better.
Tony flipped curiously to the few wavy, now dry, pages Steve had drawn today and paused a little. They were just quick sketches and the graphite was smudged in many places. He took a long look at the first one and guessed it must have been Sergeant Barnes.
The next one was Peggy, and he recognized her immediately. Young, beautiful, with full lips and perfect hair. Her face was stern. That was how Tony remembered her, not the senile old lady who waited in bed for death. He'd spent a lot of time with her as a kid and she'd always looked like that. Perfectly groomed and stern. Sharp, intelligent eyes scanned everyone she passed. But when they played together, she smiled and her eyes were kind.
Tony ran his fingers lightly over the drawing and smiled sadly. He would miss her, of course, but he couldn't imagine what a blow it would be for Steve once Peggy left this world. He sighed softly and looked at the next page.
Another woman, but this one wasn't familiar to him. He looked her over carefully but didn't recognize anyone he knew in her. She was smiling, and she seemed kind and welcoming. Her hair was pulled back into a bun, and tiny wrinkles around her eyes. He wondered peripherally if she might be Steve's mother. She looked a bit like him.
There were several more portraits on the next few pages, each one less elaborate than the one before. Tony didn't recognize any of them, but something told him that they were people Steve had once known. And who were long dead. Steve was obviously having dark thoughts, Tony thought. He sighed softly, should he talk to him? Not that he had any idea what to say. This really wasn't something he was good at, he could get something out of himself when he came to a similarly difficult topic by accident during a conversation, but to start talking about it on purpose? Oh God, he'd rather not.
He skipped over the ballerina and remained frozen. This drawing was much more detailed than the others, Steve had obviously been working on it all evening. When Tony lifted up the sketchbook, the drawing fit right in with the scene Steve must have been watching from the couch. It showed Tony sitting at a table and wow it almost looked like a photo. Steve had paid attention to every little detail of Tony's face and clothes as well as his desk. He even drew U and Dum-E. This gave Tony a unique opportunity to see what he looked like when he was concentrating on his work. And God, he really had too many wrinkles.
Steve came into his field of vision and Tony jumped in alarm, hurriedly dropping the sketchbook on the table. Damn, caught red-handed. Oh, shit!
Steve raised one eyebrow, stood still and just watched him. And Tony had no idea if he was mad at him or not. He cleared his throat.
"Your drawings, um... they are nice," he said with a wry smile. Realizing this, he forced himself to relax.
"Thanks," Steve replied distantly, raising a second eyebrow as well, "but next time I'd appreciate it if you'd ask beforehand."
"You left that lying around!"
"That doesn't mean it's yours to touch."
"You left it in my workshop, theoretically speaking it's already mine," he tried to make a joke, only Steve didn't laugh. Instead, it made his thick eyebrows draw together into a deep frown.
"The whole tower is yours. Does that rule apply to all the stuff in the tower then?"
Okay, message received, Tony thought, Steve was overprotective of his sketchbooks. He shook his head and sighed.
"Yeah, yeah, got it," he assured him, holding up his hands, palms up. "I'm not touching it again."
"Thanks," Steve nodded, finally stopping his frown. He gestured with his hand to the box he was holding. "Donut?"
"Or course!" Tony laughed. Steve smiled, taking one himself and leaning sideways against Tony's desk.
"How's it going?"
"I don't know," he hooted, his mouth full, and swallowed before continuing. "How are we doing, Jarv?"
"Done, sir."
"Excellent! You're a stud."
Tony sat back in his chair and looked curiously at the decrypted data. The donut turned to dust in his mouth and his stomach heaved.
"Fuck..." he gasped. Steve rested his palms on the table.
"What?"
"That... that," he pointed to the screen and browsed the dead scientist's notes with a few quick motions. He had to go through the whole thing, this couldn't be possible. And yet, he knew full well that it was possible. Fuck, he knew SHIELD couldn't be trusted.
"The scientist was working on a substance strong enough to kill Hulk."
There was an uncomfortable heavy silence in the workshop. Tony hadn't noticed when Jarvis had turned off the music, and at the moment he didn't care. His heart pounded painfully in his ribcage, and he quickly sifted through the data, taking in the information. Shit! Sure, he knew that SHIELD had files on each of them an inch thick. They kept detailed information on everyone and surely had some backup plans how to stop them if they stopped following orders.
Steve paced back and forth behind him with his arms resting on his chest. Tony could feel Captain America's energy in his back, or maybe he was imagining it. God knows.
"Did he finish it?" he asked suddenly. Tony gave him a look before turning back to the screens. He shook his head.
"No. It was almost done, but not completely. And he wasn't even sure if it could work. They could hardly just go to Bruce and try it," he laughed but his laugh was flat and hollow. He thought he might start panicking soon. Working for SHIELD was a life-threatening occupation, but Tony honestly never thought that they would actually try to kill any of them.
"Okay... Do you think SHIELD can get into that computer?"
"I don't know," Tony growled. "The guy used some pretty complicated code, even Jarvis and I had a hard time with it."
"Could anyone complete the research?"
"I don't fucking know!" He snapped angrily. "I'm not a chemist, Steve, I'm a mechanic. This," he gestured to the screens, "I barely understand."
Steve squeezed his shoulder gently and Tony forced himself to at least calm down a little. He took a few deep breaths and turned in his chair to face Steve instead. They stared straight into each other's eyes.
"Yeah, I'm sure someone could finish it. But someone on Bruce's level."
Steve nodded. He studied the screen behind Tony's back thoughtfully, moving his lips almost imperceptibly. His face twisted as he bit down hard on the inside of his cheek.
"This has to stay between us for now," he finally said, and Tony couldn't believe his ears. He stood up, also folding his arms across his chest and watching Steve in disbelief. He was acting like Fury, damn it.
"And why is that? You think Bruce would go crazy, turn green and go beat the shit out of HQ?"
He chuckled in disbelief when Steve nodded. How could he think such a thing!? Bruce would never...
"I'm sure Bruce would have thought about all this rationally and wouldn't have planned to do anything like that. But what about Hulk? He only cares about two things, breaking things and keeping himself - and therefore Bruce - alive. I don't know how that works in Bruce's head." He touched his own temple lightly, "but what if Hulk somehow found out? He might snap."
Tony rubbed the bridge of his nose. OK, he saw what Steve meant. But he still didn't agree with keeping it a secret from Bruce.
"And besides," Steve continued seriously. He sat down slowly on the back of one of the armchairs and captured Tony's eyes in his gaze again. "Bruce already told us once that he tried to kill himself."
"You think," Tony said, surprising himself by hearing how strangled his voice sounded, "that Bruce would try to finish the job himself and... and, what, try it on himself?"
Steve nodded. Tony sat back heavily in his chair.
"Tony, I don't know Bruce as well as I'd like. But I know how he's always down when the Hulk overdoes it. What if one day it gets to be too much? I don't want to risk it..."
Steve may not have known him well, but Tony did. They often did science together, and when they got tired of it, they moved elsewhere and did drugs. Never more than weed, they'd both long outgrown the hard stuff, but weed was great for relaxing. Bruce grew it himself and always willingly shared it with Tony.
So yes, they knew each other and talked a lot during these science and weed sessions. They were Science Bros! When they got tired of science and marijuana, they would come up with the craziest theories to get rid of the Hulk. But Tony never saw anything wrong with it. They laughed, they had fun, it was just fun. But what if it wasn't? Could Tony have overlooked some suicidal tendencies? Yeah, he certainly could have.
"Fine," he muttered finally. Steve cocked an eyebrow.
"Fine?"
"Yeah, fine. We won't tell him anything yet. For now!" He held up a finger and frowned. "Until we figure out what to do next. But we can't keep this from him forever."
"I agree with that."
"Good. Fine. Fine..." Tony muttered, more to himself, his gaze fixed on the ground. He frowned, his stomach twisting uncomfortably. He'd known there was something wrong with SHIELD for a while now (Hell, probably since the very beginning!), but he hadn't thought Fury would go this far. It made him sick.
Taking another doughnut, he walked back and forth across the room a few times, clearly aware of Steve's intent gaze. He sighed.
"What are we going to do, Steve?"
Steve was quiet. He watched his hands clasped in his lap and frowned thoughtfully. Tony walked over to him, leaned on his shoulder, and the next moment had one of Steve's arms wrapped around his waist. It was strange how incredibly natural it felt to him. He'd always thought the silly phrases in the books were just, well, silly phrases, but he really felt like they fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. He rolled his eyes at himself. Really, Stark? Really?
"Honestly, Tony? I don't know," he muttered, sounding rather defeated. Tony closed his eyes, dissatisfied. He wasn't used to that tone with Captain. He was always the one who had hope. "We can't just go up against SHIELD."
He was right about that. They were trapped and taking any action now would only raise hell. They needed more than just the dead scientist's data. But that didn't mean they were going to just sit and do nothing.
"Someone from SHIELD is after us... "
Steve didn't say anything, he just pulled Tony tighter against him. Tony smiled, finished eating, and wiped his hands on his pants.
"I'm going to try and look for Daniel Hernandez again, and that whole business with your apartment. I believe there's a connection between those events."
"But tomorrow, how about tomorrow?" Steve suggested with a weak smile, his thumb drawing circles on Tony's hip. "You've been sitting on this for hours, you should get some sleep."
Tony grinned. It was bad enough that Steve had very subtly changed Tony’s eating habits, was he going to make him sleep eight hours a day now? Steve was really cheering himself on. Oh well, it couldn't hurt for once.
He turned his head towards him and his lips caressed the skin just below Steve’s ear. Steve shivered. "Only if you come with me."
"If you want to," he chimed in softly. Tony bit him. Steve exhaled heavily.
"I want to."
"Then what are you waiting for?"
"For you to carry me off to the bedroom like a princess," he joked, instantly regretting it. Steve's eyes lit up with mischievous lights and he bent down determinedly so he could thread his hand under Tony’s knees. Tony immediately stood up and raced for the door.
"Okay, don't you dare, caveman! It was just a joke. I'll be on my way."
"Whatever you say, Princess," he laughed, following him. Damn Rogers, who knew he'd end up being such a mischievous bastard? The world didn't know who they worshipped!