Chapter 7
Everything is Steve’s fault. Tony will maintain that to his dying day.
With things settled once more between the two of them, Tony finds his creative faculties are in full force, inspiration coming easily for what next to make. Steve is largely responsible for that, his questions sparking ideas for what next to teach or share with his viewers. In the six months since the supersoldier moved into the Tower, Tony’s actually surprised that it didn’t happen sooner.
Here’s the thing: Steve chooses to stay entirely out of the video-making process for some convoluted reason Tony still doesn’t understand, and whatever friendship had formed between the two of them since that fateful day when Tony dumped boxes of mismatched items, it is weirdly domestic. Not that Tony doesn’t enjoy having someone to take care of him, but Tony can’t figure out if Steve is truly interest in something other than friendship, and if enough time has passed for Steve to process his grief and feel ready to move on with his life.
Frustrating is what it is. Especially when Steve brings him perfectly glazed morning donuts with a perfectly sweet smile, or when Steve causally offers to fix one of Tony’s cars.
“How do you even know how to do this?” Tony had incredulously asked, desperately trying to fix his eyes anywhere that’s not Steve’s tank top.
“We were at war, Tony, we knew how to steal cars and fix them.”
And that had been very distracting to learn about. Somewhere in the top five with Steve and pole dancing.
Therefore, everything is Steve’s fault because the one thing Tony had forgotten in all his protocols was Steve.
Here’s another thing: Tony’s viewers are used to seeing Bruce or Rhodey or even Pepper puttering about in the background, and they’re around often enough in the lab that they’ve been part of a handful of Tony’s videos or livestreams. He even has a special Youtube playlist for his videos with each of them.
All Stark employees working in the Tower had been given a briefing and know to respect the giant KEEP OUT sign permanently stuck on the glass doors of Tony’s lab – that is, if they ever managed to pass through elevator security and JARVIS’ watchful eye in the first place.
“So, that’s how Rhodey and I killed microeconomics,” Tony shakes his head at the memory of the professor’s face, scrolling through the livestream comments to search for the next lucky question. “Next, we have… oh, this is a good one from, uh, ririwill? What’s the worst thing Butterfinger’s done? Okay, buckle in. There was one time when a Senator – ”
“Tony?”
ririwill OMG who is that???
beterbarker DOES TONY HAVE A BOYFRIEND
beterbarker WHY did you not tell us
angie333 hot damnnn
leedsneds is that FOOD?? is the boyfriend bringing lunch???? i m soft
beterbarker I NEED ANSWERS STAT
“Steve,” Tony gulps, frantically waving the hologram screen away and flicking DUM-E’s camera off. He does not need his viewers to badger him, especially when Steve is one of his viewers and will likely see their comments.
Steve’s taken a step back, lingering by the door, his hands raised in apology. “Sorry, didn’t realise you were recording.”
“No problem,” Tony tried his hardest to keep his voice from squeaking embarrassingly high, one hand still resting heavily on DUM-E’s camera, scared that it might start recording again by some freak of nature.
No one can know of Tony’s crush on Steve. He’d never hear the end of it if anybody found out.
Casting his eyes around the room for any distraction at all, Tony’s gaze lands on the bag hanging from Steve’s hand. He hadn’t noticed that before. “Is that takeout?”
“Yeah,” Steve shrugs, taking careful steps to walk to the chair Tony’s sitting in. With his free hand, he scratches the back of his hair. “It’s past lunch time and you weren’t answering, so I went and bought something.”
Tony squints at the label printed on the bag, reaching up to grab it. “Is this stir fry chicken and dim sums?”
Now that he thinks of it, he is hungry, even if he doesn’t quite feel like eating, his stomach in twists at trying to hide the horniness of his viewers for Steve (and his own, uh, attraction). Steve doesn’t deserve people coming onto him if he doesn’t want them to.
Steve nods, easily pulling over a table and a chair towards Tony, careful not to jostle any of the items strewn across the table. “If you want to continue recording, I can stay hidden or leave,” he offers, hands tucked into his pockets and shoulders hunched, as if trying to be smaller when all he’s managing to become is more adorable.
“Stay,” Tony’s mouth speaks before his brain can really process, and a small smile blooms on Steve’s lips as he finally sits down. Taking the bag back from Tony, he unpacks their lunch, evidently having taken the time to remember Tony’s favorite dishes.
“What were you filming?” Steve asks, passing a pair of chopsticks over to Tony.
A twinge of guilt passes through Tony at the thought of leaving his viewers so abruptly. He is fond of them, and eternally grateful that they give him purpose and their time of day. It will also make it into some of the lesser headlines and gossip blogs that Youtuber Tony Stark left his Q&A livestream unceremoniously due to a mysterious stranger. Steve is more important, though, so Tony shrugs it off. “Was doing a livestream. They asked me questions, and I answered them.”
“Oh,” Steve frowns around his mouthful of fried rice, “does that mean they’re waiting for you to come back? I could leave?”
“No,” Tony quickly says, “well, yes. But you don’t have to leave.”
“Wouldn’t it be polite to at least say goodbye?” Steve insists.
God, sometimes Tony doesn’t understand Steve. One moment, Steve is the most insufferable man on the planet, through Tony’s sass right back at him, and the next moment, Steve is the perfect gentleman out of some fairytale. “Yes, but they aren’t being too, uh, polite about you.”
Steve’s eyes turn sharp. Oh no, Tony thinks, wrong thing to say. They’ve both established that Steve doesn’t like bullies.
“What do you mean?”
Tony puts down his chopsticks, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. “Not in a bad way. Just… you’re an attractive guy.”
“You think so?” Steve perks up, a faint flush on his cheeks. It must be from the chilli in the noodles, Tony concludes, trying not to deal with the messy answer to that question.
“Well, yes,” Tony’s traitorous mouth blurts out again, and he quickly adds, “everyone thinks so.”
Steve blinks. Rationally, he knows that he’s attractive, and he’s used to people ogling him over that attractiveness. But he isn’t used to knowing that Tony is attracted to him, that the yearning Steve feels for Tony’s presence might be reciprocated.
“I don’t see how that’s a problem,” Steve brings himself to say, because it is certainly not a problem if Tony finds him attractive.
“Not a problem?” Tony blanches, “they think we’re dating, Rogers. And seeing us eat together will be putting fuel to the fire.”
When Tony gets flustered, in Steve’s entirely professional opinion, it’s highly adorable. The scrunch of his nose, the biting of his lips, the way he throws his hands in the air – everything about Tony is expressive, and Steve’s learned to read between the lines.
No one just gives away an entire floor of a tower, Steve, Sam had tried to knock some sense into Steve when he’d been asked about whether Tony might be interested in something other than a friendship. Steve hadn’t wanted to ruin whatever was between them, though, and Sam had been gentle in asking if Steve was ready to give a fair relationship to Tony, to live now instead of in the past.
All at once, Steve realises that Tony won’t be the one to start anything further. He’s waiting for Steve – because no matter how much Tony likes to curse Steve’s manners, it’s Tony who was raised by a gentleman, and it’s Tony who really is the perfect gentleman when he wants to be.
They think we’re dating, Steve rolls the words around in his mind, and he feels a grin spreading across his face. “Aren’t we already dating, Tony?”
Tony chokes. “What?”
“I bring you lunch every day,” Steve tries to sound as calm as he can, hiding his amusement at Tony’s face, “you take me to museums and give me expensive gifts.”
“That’s – I buy everyone expensive gifts. I’m a billionaire. It’s in the job description,” Tony rambles, his mask slipping ever so slightly that Steve can hear the faint traces of hope in his voice.
Three days ago, Sam had called Tony a curious name, and Steve thinks now could be the right time to use it to break past Tony’s denial.
“Yeah,” Steve pretends to agree, “one might even call you my sugar daddy.”
Tony’s face turns red.
Steve didn’t know Tony was capable of blushing. Apparently, however, Tony does blush, and he does so very beautifully.
“Who – who taught you that?” Tony stutters.
“Sam was tired of me talking endlessly about you,” Steve laughs, and then, more seriously but still with a smile, “he said if I’m ready to move on, I should just ask you out already.”
“Oh,” Tony looks away, because this, this is entirely out of left field. In the back of his mind, he had entertained the thought of inviting Steve to some fancy restaurant, or a quaint little diner, and over dinner and some liquid courage, Tony would be the one to ask Steve. Maybe in two or three months. Maybe in a year.
So this. This is unexpected, and Tony doesn’t know what to do with everything happening all at once. He hadn’t even been entirely sure that Steve was into men – he’d only been 99.999% sure, which left a one in a thousand chance that he was wrong and things would end up in disaster, and he wasn’t willing to risk Steve for even the smallest odds.
“Tony?” Steve’s voice cuts through Tony’s thoughts, uncertain and wary. “Did I read things wrong?”
No. “No,” Tony manages to say, still attempting to compose himself. More to distract himself than anything, he asks, “have we really been dating all this time?”
Steve makes a questioning noise and reaches across the table to wrap on of his hands around Tony’s. “Maybe. But I’d be a happy fella if you’d let me take you out for a spin.”
Biting back against his smile, Tony snorts. “I’m not getting on your death bike, Rogers.”
“I’d keep you safe,” Steve promises, squeezing Tony’s hand and feeling a warmth when Tony squeezes back.
“No, you wouldn’t,” Tony laughs, unable to keep his smile back for any longer, “you’d get put in jail for punching a bully and I’d be the one to bail you out.”
Steve doesn’t bother to deny that. “It’s your honor I’d be defending, darling.”
God, Tony thinks, he loves this crazy, crazy man.
They don’t kiss.
Frustratingly enough, they clean up the remnants of their lunch and Steve presses a kiss across the back of Tony’s hand, eyes dancing and promising to come back for dinner.
Tony doesn’t go back to his viewers. They can gossip however much they like – there’s a more pressing emergency at hand.
Usually, Tony would throw on whatever shirt his hand grabbed from inside the closet. He knows he looks good – he’s been People’s Sexiest Man three years in a row – but this is a date with Steve. Should he wear a dress shirt? Or is Steve thinking more casual? If Steve is going to take Tony on the motorbike, would a leather jacket be fine?
Tony’s phone rings.
It’s thrown somewhere on Tony’s bed, so JARVIS lights up a hologram showing Peter’s caller ID. Yeah, no. Tony’s not answering the kid’s endless questions about that aborted livestream session. Actually, the kid could be helpful.
“Peter, Rhodey calls everything I wear ugly, so you’re up.”
“What? Mr Stark, who was that? Are you finally off the market? Do I get a step dad?”
Tony sighs. “Lots of classified government secrets, kid, but I need your help picking something to wear.”
“It is a date,” Peter victoriously exclaims, his voice filling the room and making Tony groan. Peter laughs. “Can I at least get a name?”
“Steve. And that’s all you’re getting,” Tony mutters. He’s been meaning to get Peter and Steve to meet, but he doesn’t know how to explain Steve without leaking the fact that he’s Captain America. Not that he doesn’t trust the kid, it’s just that Peter has a horrible poker face and is rather hopeless with secrets and secret identities.
“But Mr Stark, how do I know what you should wear if I know nothing else?” Peter innocently points out, and no. Tony is not going there.
“You’re supposed to be a genius,” Tony challenges instead, “time to prove it, kid.”
Steve knows what he’ll wear: he’s had enough time to catalogue Tony’s reaction over his various outfits, and he remembers enough of Tony’s remarks to know which colors Tony likes best on Steve.
What he doesn’t know is where to take Tony out to. He could call Sam for advice, but Sam has a talk session scheduled at the VA today, and he’s certainly not going to ask Clint. Pepper would answer despite her crowded schedule. Steve doesn’t want to be a bother, though, and JARVIS, as enlightening as he is, has no experience with romance.
That leaves Natasha.
Since a month after Steve left SHIELD’s clutches, they started having coffee together once every two weeks. She apologised for being part of the lies, and proposed forming a separate, independent taskforce of superhumans, free of the shadows of any organisation. While Steve hadn’t been too keen to go back to the battlefield, he agreed to the necessity, and their periodic meetings meant that Steve began to learn of the humanity behind her ruthlessness and the kindness behind her sharpness. They became friends, and Tony had whined about the betrayal and insisted on coming along to one of their dates.
Now that Steve thinks about it, Tony must have been jealous.
Natasha had, of course, seen right through Steve’s attraction to Tony, and she must have known that Tony was jealous.
Tapping on her contact in his phone, Steve lets the dial tone ring in his ear, pacing the entire length of his floor as he waits for her to answer.
“Steve, this better be good.”
“Are you busy?” Steve frowns, because he can hear the sound of bullets and a groan of pain. Was Natasha on a mission or just a simulation?
“No, Steve,” Natasha drawls out, “I liberate pirate ships for a hobby.”
Ah, okay. “I can call back. Stay safe – ” Steve tries to say, but Natasha stops him.
“They’re boring, Steve. Barely putting up a fight.” There’s the sound of what is suspiciously like bones cracking, and then, “this is about Tony, isn’t it? Did you ask him out? I need gossip, Steve.”
“Uh,” Steve starts awkwardly, “I did ask him out, but I can’t decide on where to bring him.”
A snort and a heavy thump later, Natasha answers, “thanks for winning me fifty bucks, Steve.”
“Not helping, Nat,” he sighs, sitting down on the couch and contemplating the emptiness of the floor. Will Tony eventually ask Steve to move in with him? Are they technically already living together? What time should Steve go up to Tony’s floor?
Natasha mutters something under her breath – most likely a curse – and when she speaks again, her voice is slightly breathless. “Finished my job. Now I can focus on you.” She pauses to yell orders at the other agents. “Tony’s used to grand gestures of wealth, but it’s the simple things that’ll really get to him. Things he’s never had the chance to try because of who he is. Sharing a cotton candy, winning a bear at the arcade, baking together, going to photobooths and just making faces – be as sappy as you want, Steve.”
“He complains when I’m a sap, though,” Steve tips his head back to stare at the grey ceiling, wondering what Tony’s doing right above him.
“He only says that because he doesn’t want you to find out that he’s an even bigger sap.”
There’s actually some merit to Natasha’s words, and Steve rolls them around in his head. Winning a bear at the arcade – that’s not such a bad idea. He can already picture Tony being dwarfed by a giant teddy bear.
“Thank you, Nat,” Steve smiles, and he can see in his mind how Natasha must be rolling her eyes right now.
“I take payment in gossip,” she reminds him, “I better get every detail.”
“Including bedroom details?” he teases.
“Especially bedroom details, Steve, I’m not blind. I have an appreciation for beauty.”
And that, Steve thinks, is why they’re friends.
Tony keeps the bear in his lab.
He flew it up the Tower with his suit because it wouldn’t fit into the elevator.
Steve would be jealous of all the hugs and cuddles the bear got if Tony hadn’t hugged Steve so tightly and happily when he saw what Steve managed to win for him. He put is foot down when Tony had wanted to put the bear in their bedroom.
There is no way Steve is sleeping with its giant eyes staring down at them.
Oh, and Tony forever lords it over Pepper that he found someone with an appreciation for giant stuffed animals.
Pepper simply rolls her eyes. “You both deserve each other.”
Tony sticks his tongue out at her and stands on a table to press a kiss on the bear’s cheek.
And then, he jumps down to plant a kiss on Steve’s lips, too.