19.
Tony didn't come out of the workshop for the next two days. Steve visited him occasionally, just to make sure he got something other than a whole pot of coffee in him. They talked for a while while Tony paced back and forth in the workshop to stretch his legs, and ate as he walked. He talked about his progress, which unfortunately wasn't great, and once he hungrily pounced on Steve to do the devil’s tango. Or a mild version of it.
So everything was as normal as usual if you don't count the intimate part.
Steve didn't try to force him to sleep, he had tried that before and he knew that all Tony would do was hiss and threaten to lock the workshop and not let him in. So Steve let him be, knowing that he would eventually fall asleep somewhere.
So he didn't expect to find Tony sitting in the kitchen. It was long dark outside the windows, it was snowing, and the whole of New York City was glowing brighter than usual thanks to the Christmas lights. Tony sat at the table, boredly propping his head up. He was using the spray bottle to spray water on a paper bag. Steve watched him and understood nothing.
"Jarvis locked my workshop," Tony explained annoyedly, without looking up. "So I'm trying how many squirts it takes to spread the water all over the bag. So far I'm at one hundred and fifty-eight."
"Why did Jarvis close your shop?" Steve chuckled in amusement and sat down across from him. Tony rolled his eyes.
"Well, Jarv, explain."
"Mr. Stark worked for more than eighteen hours straight. I thought it appropriate that he needed a break," Jarvis said dryly. Tony stuck his tongue out at one of the cameras. Steve laughed softly. It never ceased to amaze him that Tony was actually a five-year-old. He definitely acted like a five-year-old.
"Don't laugh at me!" he exclaimed, offended, pointing the spray bottle at him. Steve fell silent.
"You wouldn't."
"Yeah? Are you going to bet? I know this trick is used more on cats, but I'm sure it works on annoying puppies too."
Steve couldn't help the sly smile that spread across his face. Tony grinned at him.
"Don't tease me, Rogers."
"Make me, Stark," he continued to tease. Tony's gaze darkened, his smile widened, and the next moment Steve had water in his face and Tony was running away. Steve didn't hesitate.
"You shouldn’t have done that," Steve chuckled and ran after him. Tony didn't get far, Steve caught him by the sofa, and they both stumbled and fell to the floor laughing. Steve landed on his hands at the last moment and thankfully didn't crush Tony. Tony didn't hesitate for a moment and tried to crawl away, but Steve didn't give him a chance. He quickly grabbed him and began to tickle him.
It was a new discovery, Tony was incredibly ticklish on the hips. And Steve was enjoying himself.
"Stop it!" Tony hooted with laughter, trying to grab his hands. "I'm serious! Steve! Come on, fuck off!"
"Make me," Steve repeated cheerfully but finally took pity. That didn't mean he moved, he continued to lean over Tony, his palms flat on the carpet, watching him with a wide grin.
"I hate you. You're a horrible person. I'm going to tell my therapist that you're bullying me," Tony grumbled, but there was no real malice in his voice. His eyes were shining happily, his breathing was faster, and his hair was a mess. It occurred to Steve that he had never looked better. It was good to see him like this, smiling and happy. And yes, those wrinkles of his were indeed attractive.
He didn't resist, cupping Tony's cheek in his palm and running his thumb gently over one of the tiny crow’s feet that always formed when Tony smiled. Brown eyes immediately looked up to him and Tony grinned uncertainly.
"What are you doing?"
"Hmm," Steve said thoughtfully, "’m just wondering if I should tickle you again."
"Give me a break, Rogers. I'm an old man now. That thing you're touching proves it."
Steve smiled and leaned in, slowly, to give Tony time to push him away. He tried to hold back at least a little, realizing that this was... simply new to Tony. So he always left him an escape route. But Tony never used it, he just went along with it. And Steve's heart was doing strange things.
He pressed a light kiss to that crow’s feet and smiled. "I like it."
"My wrinkles?" Tony raised an eyebrow, sounding even more uncertain than before. He chuckled in disbelief. It had occurred to Steve more than once that Tony wasn't used to such compliments and attention which was incredibly stupid. People showed him affection all the time, but it wasn't always sincere. Steve had a theory that Tony knew exactly how to respond to fake sympathy, but was too stunned to speak when he encountered genuine ones. And with each passing moment, his theory was confirmed more and more.
"Yeah, your wrinkles."
Tony flushed, just the slightest blush spreading across his cheeks. He opened his mouth several times but never said anything. Finally, he growled in frustration and slapped both palms to Steve's face, pushing him away.
"You're embarrassing," he murmured, making Steve laugh. He sat down next to him and watched him with a smile. Tony looked anywhere but at him. Was he ashamed?
"I'm being honest."
"So you're embarrassingly honest. God, Steve, you're going to be the death of me one day," he shook his head, covering his face with his hands. Another frustrated growl came out of him. Steve, still laughing, stood up.
"You're a drama queen again."
"Hey!" Tony gasped, looking up at him in mock offence. But he readily accepted Steve's hand and with his help got back to his feet.
"Let's go outside," Steve suggested, meeting Tony's gaze. "You've been sitting in the workshop for nearly three days, you need some fresh air."
"Why would I want to go outside?" Tony grinned. "It's cold out there, plus we were just talking about being discreet, remember?"
Steve rolled his eyes, drawing another offended gasp from Tony. "But that doesn't mean we can't go out together completely, don't you think? And I've seen that you have those-" He fell silent, and this time a frustrated growl came out of him. Modern technology was ever so confusing. Tony grinned mischievously.
"Those- what?"
"Those," he repeated, "gadgets? The ones SHIELD uses to make you look like someone else," Steve explained hurriedly, gesturing absently towards his face. Tony blinked a few times but finally understood. He nodded his head in agreement.
"Okay, that doesn't sound bad. You have really good ideas sometimes, I'm surprised," he continued to tease him. "But that still doesn't change the fact that it's cold as hell outside."
"Just put on some warm clothes."
"I still will be cold!" He waved his hands angrily, but his voice was still playful and calm.
"I'll warm you up," Steve chuckled, and to his surprise, the blush returned to Tony's face.
"And how would you like to do that?"
"I'll buy you some mullet wine."
Tony was silent. He blinked a few times. And laughed. "OK, you convinced me. Where are we going?"
"There's still a public rink in Central Park. We can go skating."
"We don't have skates.”
"We can rent them there."
The blush was gone and so was the smile, and Tony instantly became serious. Steve panicked inwardly for a moment, wondering frantically what was so wrong with skating that it had caused such a reaction.
"Rent skates," Tony repeated in an icy voice. "Rent them. Borrow them. Skates that had several thousand people on their feet, most of them with warts and athlete's foot. You want to kill me, Steve!" He exclaimed in mock horror, taking a step back. A stone fell from Steve's heart, and he chuckled. Tony really was a clown.
"Jarvis, Steve wants to kill me!" He hollered on, hurrying to find the camera on the ceiling. "Do something!"
"I'll get you a shovel, body bags and an alibi, Captain," Jarvis said casually. Honestly, the look on Tony's face was priceless. Steve laughed heartily until he bent at the waist, while Tony stared at the ceiling in horrified disbelief.
"Jarvis, honey, you're scaring me. Are you out of your code? Should I look into it?"
"I'm sure everything is perfectly fine, Mr. Stark," he assured him. "I just wanted to join in your verbal war."
"Don't be surprised, Tony," Steve winked at him. "Jarvis learns from the best one."
"Well, you're right," Tony acknowledged with a shrug, giving the camera one last glance, hands folded on his chest. "But we'd better talk about this some more, Jarvis. You've been incredibly cheeky lately."
"Of course, Mr. Stark."
Steve sent him to change and went to get his jacket himself. They met in the elevator a few minutes later, and Tony was holding a box of... camouflage gadgets. Steve honestly had no idea what they were called and wasn't going to ask.
"Let's see," Tony hummed, stepping closer to him. Carefully, he attached a tiny wheel to Steve’s temple and examined his face carefully. "Since we don't have anyone in particular we want to look like, we'll have to choose from the faces that are recorded there."
Steve waited patiently, watching amusedly as Tony's face twisted with displeasure whenever his expression changed. All the while muttering to himself words like 'nah' 'definitely not' 'eww' 'Jesus Christ, you don't want to look like a blonde Snape'. Finally, he took a step back and looked at him thoughtfully. He nodded.
"Yeah, that would work," Tony said. Steve looked at himself in the mirror and blinked in surprise. Of course, he knew he wouldn't look like himself, but that initial look was disturbing. His hair was still the same, of course, but there wasn't a single similar feature on his face. His jaw was much wider, covered in several days' worth of dark stubble. He had prominent cheekbones, a slightly hooked nose, and green eyes. His face was full of wrinkles, and he looked older, at least forty or even fifty.
"Those eyes scare me. You look like some kind of warlock," Tony admitted with a chuckle and set about his own transformation. It didn't take nearly as long as Steve's, Tony had to know what he was looking for. His own eyes were now blue and wide, his face round. The wrinkles were gone and so was his goatee. He ruffled his hair and turned to Steve. When he smiled, two deep dimples formed in both cheeks. He looked young, so fiercely young. If Steve looked forty now, Tony looked no more than twenty.
"What do you think?" Tony laughed, his voice higher. Steve blinked, took a step back and looked him over again. Tony was shorter than him by no more than a few centimetres, but with his current appearance, he looked much smaller, more petite. And Steve figured he'd done it on purpose. He'd switched their roles. Although Steve was officially almost a hundred years old, he looked twenty-five. Their age difference was plainly visible and undeniable. Steve had a peripheral thought that maybe this was worrying Tony and made a mental note to talk about it later.
"All you need is a guitar and you can be a street performer," Steve chuckled, his voice deep and rough, as if he hadn't spoken in a week. Tony laughed. Even his laugh sounded different, and the only evidence that it was still Tony was the arc reactor light shining through his unbuttoned jacket.
"A warlock and a street musician, a great duo," he shook his head, buttoned up to his chin, and they both strode out into the snowy New York City. Steve kept running his eyes towards Tony, biting the inside of his cheek. He knew it was just a mask and that it was still Tony, but he couldn't stop thinking about how young he looked now. Barely adult. What would people think when they saw them? That they're father and son?
Tony wrapped his arms around him and hung on, a sweet smile on his face.
Okay, definitely not father and son.
"But I hope you understand that there will be no ice skating."
"Hmm," Steve nodded. Wrapping his arms around his shoulders with a smile, Tony willingly reached out to him again. "But I'll get you that mullet wine."
"Glad to hear it," Tony hummed contentedly.
Tony had clearly enjoyed it more than Steve had anticipated after all. There were still Christmas markets in Central Park, and Tony stopped at each stall and talked to the stallholder, his laughter and well-placed jokes carrying through the whole market. He bought something from almost everyone and soon Steve was carrying several bags full of Christmas decorations, small gifts for Stark Industries' most loyal employees, new hand-knitted stockings for the fireplace, mugs with Christmas themes and many other things. Even mistletoe.
It gave the impression that Tony had a lot of plans for Christmas. Steve didn't know how he felt about that.
"Big plans for Christmas?" He asked finally, as they moved together to the food stalls hidden under the glass roof.
"Nah," Tony waved his hand, "I was originally going to, but Pepper's flying to Michigan to see her parents, Rhodey's being sent on a mission, and Happy's flying to see his family too. What about you? Any bonding between us Avengers?"
"I was originally going to," Steve started, even though it wasn't true. He honestly hadn't thought about it at all. "But Bruce and Natasha are flying somewhere together, and Clint has plans too. But they'll all be back for the New Year."
Tony grinned with satisfaction. "Wow, that sounds good. Celebrating New Year's is better than Christmas anyway. There you expect to get drunk as the law dictates and make some bad life choices," he laughed, looking up at him thoughtfully when he calmed down. "So does that mean it's just you and me for Christmas? Or are you disappearing somewhere too?"
Steve shook his head. "I'm not going anywhere, I'm staying here."
"Great!" Tony exclaimed enthusiastically and threw his arms in the air, hitting Steve in the chest accidentally. "We can decorate the tree together! And you will make something good to eat. And we'll watch lots of stupid Christmas movies."
Steve chuckled softly, not taking his eyes off Tony. He was adorable when he got excited for something. Steve knew that if he said it out loud he would not get a positive reaction, so he kept his thoughts to himself.
"I have to get you a present."
Steve immediately grabbed Tony’s arm, drawing his attention to himself. "Something stupid," he warned him. "No more than ten bucks."
All the enthusiasm faded from Tony's face, and he grinned at him in annoyance. "Really, Steve? Really? Then where's the fun in that?"
"There's a challenge in it," he responded promptly. He didn't want Tony to spend millions on him (honestly, he was sure he was really capable of it). "You're great at throwing money around, but can you get something passable for only ten bucks?"
Determination flared in Tony’s eyes. Tony hated it when anyone doubted his abilities, and Steve was well aware of that. "You son of a bitch..."
Steve smiled smugly. He already knew Tony a little. He knew how to handle him.
"Deal."
They shook hands and Tony continued to watch him with a determined look. Steve was already beginning to dread what Tony was going to come up with. And he was looking forward to it at the same time.
Tony had no idea how or when it had happened - probably sometime between the second mulled wine and the caramel apple (Steve was spoiling him) - but he'd agreed to stay for the Christmas show, which he really didn't want to see. The whole time he was terrorising the stallholders there was a band and apparently a church choir on stage. They were singing old Christmas songs, both the old and the more modern ones. Tony noticed with horror at one point that Steve was humming Last Christmas. The song was released when Tony was fourteen and at that time everyone was singing it. Even after all these years, he remembered not being able to walk down the school hallway in peace. Rhodey even repeatedly set it as his alarm clock ringtone! He hated him for that.
But the fact that Steve hummed it wasn't the worst part! The worst part was that it didn't bother Tony one bit. He watched Steve's soft smile and gentle eyes (even though they weren't his eyes and his smile at the moment, but Tony already knew his face well enough to imagine it) and found that he really liked him more that way. Relaxed, smiling. When there was no sign of Captain or soldier in his attitude.
Tony hastily averted his gaze and finished his mulled wine. He wanted to kiss him. To hide with him behind one of the stalls and plunder his mouth until they were both gasping for breath. He didn't. Tony knew how Steve felt about admitting his orientation to the public so far, and even though neither looked like themselves now, Tony suspected the soldier simply wouldn't appreciate it. Tony was usually pretty indifferent to other people's feelings, but he cared about Steve and didn't want to force him out of his comfort zone.
Steve took the empty cup from him and handed him the bags as he nodded his head towards the stage. "Go find some seats for us. I'll get you some more."
Yeah, Steve was really spoiling him. And Tony enjoyed it.
He saluted and walked away. He knew Steve was smiling like a fool, he knew it all too well. The man was all smiles when he wasn't working. Tony was leaning towards the theory that Steve Rogers and Captain America simply weren't the same person (yes, he still thought about that a lot). Captain America was an alter ego who could still piss Tony off whenever he was targeted.
He sat on the bench in the third row and waited patiently. The previous two cups of mullet wine had warmed him up and the cold didn't bother him as much. And he knew that as soon as Steve sat down, he would forget completely that it was almost the end of December. Tony loved the metabolism of a super soldier. Steve's body was always a few degrees warmer than a normal mortal's, and Tony took advantage of that all evening. It was clear to him that once spring came (if they could stay together until then, he thought, his heart sinking at the thought) he would stay as far away from him as possible so he wouldn't burn himself.
Steve soon joined him, sitting down close beside him and handing him a new cup. This time he brought two and Tony raised his eyebrows in surprise. Grabbing his wrist, he pulled him closer and buried his nose curiously in the second cup. It looked like mulled wine, and smelled similar, but there was definitely no alcohol in it. He took a quick sip from his own - yep, there was definitely alcohol in that - and looked up curiously.
"What is it?"
"Mullet wine for children," he chuckled amusedly. Tony bared his teeth in disgust.
"That sounds awful. What's it made of?"
Steve sniffed the liquid thoughtfully, took a sip and rolled it over his tongue a few times before saying confidently: "Probably black currant juice simmered with cloves, cinnamon, lemon and orange."
Tony was disgusted even more. It didn't sound terrible, but he absolutely didn't understand why Steve was drinking it.
"Why didn't you buy a normal one?"
"It's got alcohol in it."
"Um... yeah? That's the thing, you know? It's mulled wine, Steve, mulled wine. Of course, there's alcohol in it," he said, looking at Steve in puzzlement. Steve looked away and gave a vague shrug. Tony's curiosity only grew. "I thought alcohol doesn't affect you."
"It doesn't," he agreed, scanning their surroundings with his gaze and never once looked at Tony.
"Then why don't you drink it?"
Silence. Steve looked to the ground, focusing on a single point. He didn't answer, his gaze absent, and Tony realized very quickly that he wasn't going to get an answer. Steve was hiding something, and Tony hated it when anyone hid anything from him. He moved closer, pressing his thigh against Steve's and leaning into his personal space.
"Why aren't you drinking?"
"Doesn't matter," he shook his head quickly and looked at him finally.
"It does matter! I want to know," Tony grimaced. "Come on. Confess to Uncle Scrooge."
"Let it go!" Steve barked at him suddenly and Tony jerked in surprise. Steve rarely lost control of himself. His body language changed. He was relaxed and calm throughout the evening, now he stiffened. His shoulders were tense, his jaw clenched. He moved away from him, and Tony immediately missed the warmth of his body.
"Then keep it," Tony finally growled in annoyance and turned to the stage, ignoring him. The show started at that moment, and although Tony hadn't been interested in it before, it now provided a distraction. It was just a group of teenagers in poorly made costumes, but the idea was a good one. Christmas viewed from the point of view of modern children. A little cynical, a little sarcastic, and funny.
It didn't take long for Steve's body heat to return. He pressed against Tony, one arm around his shoulders. A brief kiss to his hair. A silent apology. Tony gave his knee a brief squeeze. Silent apology accepted. There was no point in arguing about it. But that didn't mean Tony would drop it completely. Oh no! He'd come back to it later. Tony wanted to know, and when Tony Stark wanted something... well, he always got it.
The phone call had come at the worst moment possible that they had that evening. Tony had foolishly thought that they would never be interrupted by any phone calls when they were in his bedroom together. It happened once. Jarvis announced an incoming call from Pepper without a single warning and Tony knew that if it had been possible, Steve would have had a heart attack at that moment. So Tony set up the Cockblock Behind Bars protocol (which was really just a private mode, but the name amused Steve enough to calm down again. It's really not nice to be suddenly interrupted by Jarvis' voice during sex) so that it doesn't happen again. But that only applied to Jarvis, not Steve's cell phone, which was peacefully sitting on Tony’s nightstand.
Tony was not happy. Not a bit.
Not waiting to wait, Steve had attacked Tony’s lips in the elevator. Okay, attacked wasn't quite the right word. Steve was always gentle and cautious around Tony, and this time was no different.
"You won’t break me that easily, you know?" Tony grumbled, tilting his head so Steve could remove the camouflage device from his temple. His fingers barely touched Tony’s skin. Steve paused for a moment. He looked him over carefully, smiled, and reached up to his own temple. Tony sighed contentedly, hiding both devices back in the box. Those green eyes really didn't suit Steve.
"The thing is, I could," he muttered honestly. He ran his lips over Tony’s neck and bit his skin lightly. Tony tensed, tilting his head to the side. Steve let out a shaky breath. "I can barely control myself, Tony. I have to be careful, I could easily hurt you. Break you."
Okay, that sentence had no right to sound so sexy. It should have scared him, but it didn't. A wave of excitement shot through his body straight to his crotch and Tony felt like a teenager again. He had no control over Tony Jr. at that point either.
How they got to bed without injury was a mystery. They proceeded almost blindly, hardly moving away from each other the whole time, only when they were pulling off each other's clothes. Steve's hands were on perhaps every part of Tony's body, the firm, hot touch of sure fingers while Tony's tongue plundered Steve's mouth. Those lips really would have been a shame not to kiss.
Steve fell backwards onto the bed, wearing nothing but his dog tags, his lips curled into a lusty smile and his eyes dark with arousal. Tony hurriedly discarded the last of his clothes and sat straddling his lap. It was strangely arousing, having that mass of muscle beneath him at his mercy. He ran his palms down Steve’s chest, relishing the firmness of his body as he rocked his hips experimentally. Their cocks brushed against each other, and it occurred to Tony again that if he'd known how good sex with a guy could be, he would have tried it sooner.
He hooked his fingers into the chain of the dog tags and pulled, leaning closer to Steve whose breathing was heavy, and a blush has already stretched down from his face to his neck. The skin around his mouth was red from Tony's beard. It was a beautiful sight.
"Hello, Captain Rogers," he smiled, feeling rather than hearing Steve's satisfied growl bubbling deep in his chest.
They took more time this time, exploring each other with both mouths and hands and when Steve finally took a firm grip on Tony’s hips and guided him up, Tony didn't resist.
He gripped the headboard tightly, his knees on each side of Steve's head, and just watched in silent amazement as his cock disappeared between Steve's lips again and again. God, wasn't that an amazing sight? Steve massaged him with his tongue, sucking, and Tony was only vaguely aware of the sounds that left his mouth.
He felt Steve's palm on his cheek and hurriedly opened his eyes. The dark blue gaze captured him instantly, and Tony was absolutely certain he saw an order in them.
Look at me.
Heat gathered in his body, his breathing was getting faster and faster, and he couldn't take his eyes off Steve even if he wanted to. His eyes were full of lust and desire and Tony felt like a god.
At that moment, the screen of Steve's cell phone lit up and a soft ringing sounded.
Steve fell out of rhythm, his eyes darting quickly to the bedside table, and despair washed over Tony.
"Keep going," he whispered. He grabbed Steve's hair and rocked his hips, feeling the back of Steve's throat. It was a dirty move, he knew it. But Steve surprised him. His eyelids fluttered, and Tony could clearly hear the approving moan, sending vibrations through his entire body. He liked it.
Damn, how could he ever have thought that Steve is innocent!
Steve dug his fingers into both of Tony's buttcheeks and pulled him closer to him, only to repeat the act over and over again. Not once did he gag. The cell phone was successfully forgotten.
But then it started ringing again.
And when it rang a third time, Steve rolled his eyes in annoyance and had no trouble extricating himself from Tony's limp grasp. Tony cursed the caller in every language he knew and wished him a slow and painful death because this was torture!
"Rogers," Steve said into the cell phone, his voice gruff and raspy. He cleared his throat quickly into the crook of his elbow and stood up. He didn't even take a step when he stopped dead in his tracks. Tony threw himself into a sitting position. That didn't look good.
"We'll be right there." Steve hung up and immediately began picking his clothes up off the floor.
"What's wrong?"
Steve looked up, concern marking his entire face. "Natasha's been attacked."