Ex-husband

Steve stood in front of the mirror, eyeing himself critically. He had a very important decision to make and it was boggling his mind.

Paraphrasing the great writer - to shave or not to shave?

Pro shave. It was the morning of his 'date' with Tony and during their dating and married time, Steve always had shaved, maybe not counting the very lazy days, when he grew a light stubble, but never had the full, thick beard look like he had now. Tony knew his smooth face and Steve remembered the way Tony's warm fingers used to trace his jawline, the feeling of his ex-husband's scratchy goatee, but scratchy in a pleasant way as Tony used some mysterious mix of oils on his precious goatee to keep the hair healthy and soft, pressed to his cheek in a kiss. He almost wondered off, also remembering Tony's soft body pressed to him, legs tangling together, hips moving in the same rhythm -

Dammit, focus, Rogers.

Con shave. He didn't want Tony to think that he was trying too hard. He had already forced himself on Tony and insisted on a meeting, against all common sense. When he thought about it, he didn't even know what this meeting was going to be - a date was too big of a word, a casual get together was too vague and didn't give proper credit to their shared history. Steve just really wanted this. Not to move on, just to feel complete again. He knew had ruined their marriage and it was not coming back, too many arguments and harsh words instead of soft voices and warm embraces spoiling something that once was so good and felt so natural. He would give anything to get this feeling back, even just for a minute.

Including his beard.

But then again, he didn't want Tony to get a wrong impression.

Ultimately, Steve decided to leave the beard. He tugged on his hair, which during the past six months grew to his chin, falling in straight strands and framing his face. Maybe if he hurried, he could get a hair cut and -

The alarm going on in his phone, made Steve jump up. One hour. One hour before Tony would see him and he had spent a large part of his morning contemplating if he needed a shave or not. He was supposed to leave at this time to not keep Tony waiting. He made a frantic move to bolt out of the bathroom and get changed, at least he had chosen his clothes day earlier, but the sight of the shower caught his attention. Yeah, he was in desperate need of a shower.

***

Steve didn't arrive early as he had in his habit, thank God, he wasn't late either, fearing that Tony might wander off thinking that he was stood up, he was exactly on time. Which probably was also weird and not like him. What was even weirder was that his ex-husband was already sitting in the cafeteria patio, legs crossed gently and sunglasses on his nose, as he was looking off somewhere, lost in his thought, the sunlight playing in his brown hair and giving it soft caramel reflexes. Tony was wearing a grey suit and a t-shirt with a band logo, giving the almost formal look a casual appearance, and Steve felt like an idiot in his three-button dark blue henley shirt (unbuttoned, of course) and washed-out jeans, a black belt holding jeans in place. Tony just looked effortlessly pretty and Steve was trying way too hard.

When Tony turned his face to him, Steve's heart did a little flip. Tony smiled, but because of the sunglasses, Steve didn't know if the smile reached his eyes and raised his hand up, bringing Steve's attention to him. Steve mirrored the gesture, not able to control his own smile, and made it through the other patrons, Tony standing up from his seat to properly greet him.

That wasn't awkward at all when Tony went for a handshake, and Steve, carried on the moment, leaned in to kiss Tony on the cheek for hello. Not awkward at all. In the end, Tony decided to roll with it and let Steve lean in fully, allowing the small peck land on his warm cheek. That made Steve want the ground to open and swallow him, but it was not the time for self-loathing.

"So, how you have been doing?" Steve asked, sitting down on the folding chair, trying to sound suave and casual. It was the moment when he had realized that Tony chose a different table, not the usual one they always had, tucked away in a private corner, near a wall with green leaves climbing up, hiding them from the rest of the world. He tried to subtly look in that direction and saw that their spot was empty so Tony chose this new place deliberately, in the middle of the patio, among people.

"Uh, since yesterday? Not much changed," Tony replied, a small, snarky smile playing at the corner of his lips.

That coupled with the sudden realization about abandoning their spot had dampened the mood. Steve was never good at small talk. It was Tony's forte, his ex-husband was charming and had his way with the words, while Steve was more of a straight to the point guy. Steve had no sunglasses to hide his eyes behind and Tony had to notice the hurt look passing through the blue eyes, because the next second his body became less tense and he took the sunglasses off, hanging them on top of his shirt.

"I am fine, Steve," Tony said, almost sounding sorry for coming of hostile. "You?"

Steve needed a second to process that question, his heart thumping behind his chest while Tony's warm brown eyes were focused on him. Never before Tony and never after him, Steve had met anyone with such expressive, shiny eyes. He could always tell Tony's mood by his eyes. The happy sparkle whenever Steve made him laugh, the soft look during cuddling, the heat and passion during their intimate moments. He missed seeing those eyes as the first thing in the morning and the last in the evening.

"I am fine too," Steve answered, his voice sounding dry. "Um, are those the clothes you bought yesterday?" Steve asked, just to show that he wasn't that pathetic and was able to carry on a conversation when he made a fatal mistake and looked down Tony's body, his eyes stopping on his midriff. There was a little roundness in that area, the shirt hugging it snugly and accenting what Tony was hoping to mask with the dark material. His eyes lingered there for a few seconds too long to brush it off as a casual look, but Steve couldn't keep his eyes off, feeling some hot feeling stirring in him, something he thought was gone a long time ago.

Tony coughed and shifted in his seat, putting his elbows on the table and leaning in to hide. "Yeah, yeah, they are."

It was rude to stare, Rogers. Steve looked back at Tony's face. Slightly rounder, fuller cheeks, but still breathtakingly handsome, if not more.

"They look good on you," Steve said truthfully, and there it was. First doubt, then hesitation, and finally hurt, all reflected in the brown eyes. "You always had a great sense of style," Steve continued, trying to get Tony's mind off the obvious.

Tony seemed a little placated by that and gave a small giggle, beautiful and high pitched and awkward and wonderful. "I am glad it had rubbed off on you," he laughed, pointing in Steve's general direction, "you finally traded your khakis and plaid shirts for something fetching."

"Oh, come on," Steve said with an easy smile, taking the jab like a pro, "it was comfortable."

Tony kept the smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners and sparkling in an amused way. This suited him so much more and it made Steve's heart grow until he realized that once he was the reason the brown eyes filled with tears.

"Here is your order."

A blond, smiley waitress showed up from nowhere, holding a tray in one arm.

"Thank you," Tony smiled at her, when she settled a cup of coffee in front of him, two packets of sugar on the side and an orange juice in front of Steve. "You don't mind I ordered for you too, right?"

"Actually, could I see the menu?" Steve asked the waitress and she nodded and walked away, while Steve turned back to Tony with a smile. "I didn't have time to eat breakfast today."

"You didn't?" Tony asked, reaching for his coffee and his hand stopping halfway out of shock. Steve had pretty adamant rules and a precise morning routine, one that always included a healthy portion of oatmeal with sliced banana and raisins, maybe a breakfast muffin on the days he was in hurry and bacon and eggs on the lazy mornings, but breakfast was always a must and Steve never skipped it. "I don't recognize you, Steve," Tony teased, giving another playful jab, Steve was happy to receive.

Soon enough the smiley waitress brought the menu and Steve placed an order and Tony asked for a glass of sparkling water and a lemon wedge. That made Steve curious.

"You are not eating?" Steve asked, and Tony wrinkled his nose.

"Nah, I am good. Had a big breakfast," Tony replied, trying to sound casual. Steve nodded, wishing to believe that. He already knew that tone of voice, hearing it many times during the days when Tony's work was catching up on him and break for food was not an option. Steve felt it wasn't his place on lecturing Tony about healthy eating habits and that regular meals could actually help him lose the weight he seemed bothered with more efficiently than denying himself food. He had lost the right to say such things when he had signed the divorce papers.

"This should be punishable," Tony narrowed his eyes when the waitress had brought Steve's meal and his water, and Steve eagerly cut into the steak. Well done. "This poor cow didn't die for this."

"Hey, it is good," Steve grinned, cutting the piece of meat and sticking on the fork. Roasted potatoes, garden salad, and a steak. Typical early lunch.

"I almost forgot that you like your meat though as cardboard," Tony griped, sipping on his water. Everyone knew that the best way to cook steak was medium rare when the meat was still tender and juicy and melting, but not many knew that the best technique was reverse seared. By the crust on the meat, Tony could already tell if it was reverse-seared or pan-seared and Steve's steak was obviously pan-seared, which wasn't bad but was kept in the pan for way too long to reach Steve's preferred well-done degree of doneness.

Steve chewed on his steak, thinking that the steak was good, but he would rather bite into something else, something that was nice and juicy and warm and sitting in front of him. He didn't voice his thoughts and just cut off another piece.

"So. Are you still teaching?" Tony asked, giving Steve plenty of time to chew but also trying to engage him in a conversation.

"Nah, I quit, I am between jobs," Steve said lightly using the nice word for being jobless, pausing at Tony's terrified look. "It is fine," Steve assured with a smile. Since the divorce, Steve couldn't focus on anything and lost his drive. He had quitted with a heavy heart, but felt that it would be the best for him and his students, had some savings and while he didn't live a life of luxury it was enough to keep him afloat. "I actually got a few job offers, just testing the market," Steve joked, meaning the parents of the kids he had taught beating down his door to sign their kids for private lessons - Steve was good at his job as an art teacher and kids loved him, and all of his students managed to get into the best art schools. While Steve didn't feel like going back to public schools, maybe private tutoring would be the answer.

"I see," Tony nodded, rubbing his chin. He was self-employed, build his company from a scratch and couldn't imagine being in Steve's situation who seemed so at ease. It was another reason they argued so much, Tony was never able to fully cut off from work, while Steve had clear boundaries, and their first shared vacation ended in a massive quarrel after a couple of blissful days. "I am glad this suits you," Tony said, not urging Steve to changes, knowing that it wasn't his place.

"Thanks," Steve smiled, finishing his lunch, while the conversation between them became so easy and natural, almost as if they never broke up. Steve continued to talk and joke, and take in Tony's smile until his plate became empty, marking the end of their meeting. And Steve was desperate to keep Tony for a bit longer. "Hey, I think I saw chocolate fudge cake on the special's board outside the cafe, do you want a slice?" Steve asked, putting his fork and knife down.

Tony looked away, curling a bit in himself. "No, thanks," he said and his voice sounded small, the confidence he had in himself a minute ago already gone.

Steve blinked in shock. Okay, he could understand Tony not wanting a proper meal, but the Tony he knew, never refused deserts, especially ones dripping with chocolate.

"Uhm, that's new," Steve laughed a bit, trying to bring the happy atmosphere back. "You always loved desserts. You even had this rule, that if a restaurant doesn't serve desserts, you won't be eating there."

"I guess, people, change," Tony answered in a deep sigh, and Steve didn't notice the warning undertone the words had.

"What was the other rule?" Steve asked himself, falling back into comfortable memories and not noticing the alarm signals. "Ah, yeah, remember when we went to that hipster coffee place and the waitress asked you if we want to order mini cheesecakes for dessert? Man, I thought you would flip a table back then. I guess this is also the reason why on Halloween you always give the kids full-size candy bars-"

Tony clearly didn't want to listen to any more of the story, his jaws clenching nervously. "I should go," Tony said in a cold and firm voice and pushed his chair to the back, reaching for his wallet to pay for his coffee and water. It suddenly became so tense and nervous, Steve started to panic.

"Wait, Tony, was it something I said - "

"This was a mistake, Steve," Tony said, a shaking hand dropping some bills on the table between them. "Look, I am happy for you and I wish you well, but for me - for us, we can't meet again," Tony added, his nose scrunching in a sniffle that hinted on an upcoming crying wave after the anger was gone.

Steve immediately felt like breaking into pieces. He did it again. He got a second chance to fix things with Tony and he was blowing it again. Steve bit his tongue, almost letting a comforting 'sweetheart' slip out from his lips, but he couldn't stop the long-forgotten gestures and reached for Tony's hand, putting his hand on Tony's shaky wrist. Tony's whole body tensed but he didn't move away, not daring to look at Steve.

"I am sorry, I didn't mean to bring that up," Steve said quietly, holding Tony's wrist firmer, grounding him back in the moment instead of their shared, carefree memories when both were so happy, "Stay. Please," Steve continued. The memory of the last day he had seen Tony, the day they both signed the divorce papers was still fresh in his mind, the way Tony couldn't bear to look at him, and the cold and empty feeling of that day still haunting him. There was probably no divorce that ended on good terms, but if this was supposed to be their last meeting, Steve didn't want Tony to rush out, wounds they both worked so hard to patch up, opening again.

Tony didn't answer. Somehow he lied to himself that meeting with his ex would be cathartic. It wasn't. They were venturing into very dangerous territory and Tony was afraid that there was no going back.

With time, Steve moved his hand away, reading Tony's silence as a signal to leave. There was nothing more to save here. Slowly, Steve stood up, understanding that it was over.

"Steve," Tony finally spoke, his voice shaking with emotions, "don't go," he said, not really knowing why, and Steve nearly didn't hear him among the usual cafeteria chatter. There was something hidden in the voice, some longing and a whole lot of heartbreak. "I don't want you to go. I never wanted you to go," Tony admitted, his voice breaking. He brought his hand up and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, trying to hide the building up tears.

Steve stood there, his body frozen, while a million thoughts were racing in his mind. Tony was crying. He made Tony cry. He did this. It was a desperate need to reach out, to wrap arms around his husband and tell him, that he wasn't going anywhere, that he would stay this time, not take the keys to his bike and ride around New York for the whole night without a cause, just letting the anger leave him.

The truth hit Steve hard. Did he just call Tony his husband again?

A tearful sob shook him a little. Tony was standing in front of him, shoulders shaking with every ragged breath. It was a miserable sight and Steve was going crazy with an overwhelming need to soothe his ex-husband, to ease his pain and to kiss the doubts away.

The place was getting crowded for lunch and Steve didn't feel like staying anymore, not when he and Tony started to open up.

"Let's go for a walk," Steve decided for both of them, hurriedly leaving money for his part of the bill. He reached for Tony's hand and walked out, his heart beating a happy melody when Tony followed.

They didn't talk. Just kept walking at a slow pace, Steve thinking that it would be best to let Tony's emotions cool down instead of trying to pry. They didn't walk far, when Tony abruptly stopped, Steve's hand almost breaking the hold, when Tony held him back, interlacing their fingers. Steve didn't understand why they stopped until he saw in front of what building they were standing.

"Tony… Are you sure?" Steve asked softly.

"This won't mean anything, got it?" Tony said in a shaking voice, needing to make it clear from the start.

With the highest effort, Steve had to stop himself from smiling, a hopeful feeling rising in him. It was fine, right? They both were adults and adult people slept with each other, no strings attached. Heck, adult people hooked up with their exes all the time, just for old time's sake, right? It was just what Tony and Steve were about to do.

"Got it," Steve confirmed.

They both entered the hotel, well aware that it was a lie and it meant everything.

***

"Steve, you moron, pick up your phone," Bucky seethed, trying to reach Steve's mobile, time after time, not having any luck and being sent to voice mail straight away. Since yesterday, since Steve was his ex-husbands at the store and ran out after him, coming back with a dopey, elated smile, Bucky had a bad feeling, despite Steve assuring him that everything was fine. Steve not picking up his phone, was just confirming it. Time for plan B. Bucky made sure that Sam was still in the kitchen, preparing lunch when he sneaked into their bedroom and unplugged Sam's phone from the charger. He dialed the number of the last person he wished to ask for help, but drastic times call for drastic measures.

"It is not Sam, it is me. Don't hang up! Do you know where Tony is? Are you sure? I can't reach Steve. Yeah. I think so. Woah, you kiss your mom with that mouth? Hey, I don't like this situation as much as you - yeah, I will check there. I am going to call you from my regular number next time, so you better pick it up," Bucky said and hung up. He plugged the phone back in and went to the corridor to grab his jacket and shoes.

"Babe! I need to go out for a minute!"

"What? Where? Lunch is almost done!"

"Will be back soon, love you!"

"James, what the hell - " but Sam already heard the door close. Sam just grunted to himself, lowering the heat under the pot with stew to keep it warm and wait for his husband to come back.