2012
Christmas had lost its appeal for Steve long before he'd been shot seventy years into the future.
Christmas, as humble as it had been back then, had died along with Sarah Rogers, and Steve had no desire to bring it back to life. One by one, the Avengers had invited Steve to their own celebrations, their own families, and as grateful as Steve had been to have the offers, he politely declined them all. He preferred to be alone.
There was only one person who hadn't extended an invitation, but Steve wasn't surprised. Tony wasn't the sort to offer just to be kind, and there was no way Steve could see himself with a seat at Tony's dinner table, trying to bite his tongue and stay polite when the two men had little more than antagonism between them.
So Steve passed the holidays in quiet solitude, reading, reorganizing his apartment in Avengers Tower, and trying out the new paints Natasha had given him. It wasn't until Christmas Eve that he ventured into the common spaces of the tower, in search of a box of paintbrushes he must have left somewhere.
He was digging around under the couch when a loud thump made him startle up, dropping the couch on his arm. "Shit." He stood up, rubbing his bicep and followed the noise towards the kitchen, tense and ready, but not too worried. He was used to weird noises in the tower, what with JARVIS running things and DUM-E and U puttering around.
But it wasn't DUM-E in the kitchen, it was his creator instead. "Tony?"
Tony startled similarly, bashing his head on the cupboard above him where he'd been leaning over the counter. "Shit," he said, and Steve almost laughed.
"What are you doing here?"
Tony rubbed the back of his head with a wince and turned to face Steve. "I could ask you the same question. I thought the spy twins said you were having Christmas with them in Switzerland."
Steve shook his head. "No. They invited me, but I declined. I don't really celebrate Christmas."
"Huh." Tony was staring at him.
Steve shuffled where he stood. "What about you? I was sure you'd have plans. Thought I was alone here."
"Uh, no." Tony turned back to the counter and whatever food he was making. "No plans."
"Oh."
Heavy awkwardness settled over them and Steve shuffled off towards the door, abandoning his paintbrushes. "Uh. Merry Christmas," he said.
Tony mumbled something, but Steve didn't catch it. He spent the next week in his apartment or out in the city, dodging all potential for running into Tony. The only thing worse than spending the holidays with friends was being forced to spend it with someone he didn't even like. Luckily, it seemed Tony had the same idea.
2013
When the holiday season rolled around again, Steve found it easier to gently rebuff his friends' suggestions that he join them. It felt good to be able to promise them that they could relax with their loved ones while he kept an eye the superhero side of things. This year had brought so much love and friendship and happiness with it that stepping back from Christmas didn't feel like a loss, it didn't feel like something everyone else got and he didn't.
After a few days of catching up on cleaning and emails, Steve realized he hadn't checked to see what Tony's plans were this year. He'd never asked him why he'd stayed in the tower last year - it wasn't like they were close, not like he was with Nat or Thor - and he couldn't help wondering if it was a fluke or if Tony often spent holidays alone.
"Hey, JARVIS, is Tony in the tower?"
"Yes, sir," JARVIS answered easily. Steve often wondered that Tony's AI wasn't as cold with him as Tony himself was. Or if not cold, at least… distant. They had little to connect on, conflicted often when it came to the team, and Steve found Tony's fast-paced, future-bent outlook on life stressful and even confusing. But Tony's bots were always kind and friendly. It reflected well on the man who built them. "He's on his way up from the lab to the common floor."
Steve only hesitated a moment before he pulled a sweater on over his t-shirt and made his way down. He reached the living room before Tony, having run down the stairs, but he'd barely settled on the couch before he heard the hum of the elevator.
"Oh, Hey, Cap," Tony said.
Steve powered through the slight awkwardness of them being alone together. "Looks like it's just us again this year."
"Yeah." Tony settled in an armchair opposite. "Nowhere you wanted to go?"
"Nope. Don't want to intrude on the others. It's fine. I'm not bothered. You?"
"Oh yeah…" Tony turned to look out the window. "Pepper's had Christmas at her boyfriend's house the last few years. And Happy has a sister in Colorado - I fly him over. Rhodey's deployed… and if he weren't, he goes to his parents' house. They invite me but, uh, same - don't want to intrude. I never really got the Christmas thing, anyway. When I was a kid, it was just a bunch of stuffy grown-up parties and fancy food I wasn't allowed to touch." He shrugged. "I like the quiet I get now."
Steve nodded. "Yeah… sorry." He half-stood. "I'll leave you to your quiet. Just wanted to wish you a merry Christmas."
"Oh, uh." Tony shifted in his seat, and Steve stilled. "I just ordered a fuckton of food. Figured I'd nibble for a few days. But, um, if you haven't eaten -?"
"No… haven't eaten. You sure? Don't want to ruin your quiet."
"Nah." Tony waved a hand dismissively. "I can be quiet with you."
Steve opened his mouth, but he couldn't summon a response to that. Tony had tossed it out so easily, but it was the nicest thing he'd ever heard Tony say about him. Maybe the only nice thing that wasn't about a battle. Steve slowly sat back down. "Thank you."
Tony had dropped his eyes down to his phone, but he looked back up, shot Steve a slightly confused look then nodded. "Sure. Plenty to go around."
When they food arrived, they filled plates and sat in chairs by the picture window, watching snow drift down from the overcast sky. It'd turn to slush by the time it hit the street, but up this high, it was magical, like living in a snow globe.
They didn't talk much, but the silence wasn't oppressive. Tony's presence didn't grate on Steve's wellbeing like it used to. They just sat, and they ate.
When his plate was cleared, Steve tucked it in the dishwasher, thanked Tony and headed for the door.
"Hey!" Tony called, and Steve stopped and turned. "Merry Christmas." Tony smiled, warm and genuine.
Steve smiled back. "Merry Christmas."
2014
Steve hovered in the hall, not sure if he should knock on the workshop door, or wait upstairs and see if Tony would appear. Like usual, the others had all vacated the tower for their various holiday celebrations, and Steve and Tony were left alone at the tower. Christmas morning had rolled around and Steve had found himself drawn out of his apartment and down to where he knew Tony was working. He fiddled with the box in his hand. He hadn't wrapped it, but he'd found a slightly crushed bow in his closet from a present someone had given him for his birthday and he'd stuck it on top.
He raised his hand to knock and the door flew open, Tony nearly crashing into him as he came flying out. "Whoa!"
Steve caught Tony by the arm and steadied him then stepped back. "Sorry. I was about to knock." Steve tucked the box behind his back.
"Oh." Tony smiled at him. "I was just going to go up and see if you wanted to watch a movie.
"Sounds good."
"What Christmas movies haven't you seen?"
"Uh." Steve followed Tony to the elevator. "All of them?"
"Seriously? Well. I'll have to help you out. Unless you mind? I can't tell if your aversion to Christmas runs that deep or not."
Steve shook his head, settling against the far wall of the elevator, the small box still hidden behind his back. "I don't mind. I don't have a problem with Christmas. It just doesn't mean much to me."
"Cool."
"I could order food?" Steve offered, wondering how much time Tony was intending to spend with him. He wanted to give him his gift, but he didn't want to awkwardly spring it out of nowhere. He slipped the box on a table in the corner when he wasn't looking.
"Is it weird if I cook?" Tony asked, perched on the arm of the sofa, head tilted towards Steve.
"No…? Why would that be weird?" Steve laughed.
"Cause I'm a terrible cook except I can make pancakes. And Ana used to make pancakes on Christmas morning, and I'd sneak away and eat some. I dunno." He shrugged. "Guess I'm feeling kind of sentimental this year."
"That sounds awesome, Tony. Honestly. I can help."
Tony's grimace softened into a smile. "Okay."
They mixed the batter together, standing side-by-side in the kitchen, and Steve told Tony about Christmases with his mom when he was a kid, and Tony told Steve about the special little things the Jarvis' would do to make sure Tony's Christmases were more than stiff suits and boring parties. Tony put on coffee while the butter was melting in the pan and Steve saw his chance. He snatched the box up off the table. "Uh. Here. Merry Christmas." He thrust the box at Tony.
Tony blinked at it in surprise. "Oh." He didn't move to open it.
"It's silly," Steve said. "I couldn't help myself."
That seemed to push Tony into action and he tugged the bow off then popped open the top and tugged out the bubble-wrapped mug.
"At the hospital," Steve explained, "after that thing with the fundraising and the PR visit? They were doing this thing where the kids drew pictures and they put those pictures on calendars and keychains and stuff. And, uh, mugs. So I was going to donate anyway, and then I saw that and figured you had to have it."
Tony turned the mug around to reveal the crayon sketch of Iron Man, red and yellow blurring over black lines, bright blue repulsor blasts stretching out towards the handle. In the corner was a careful "Hannah, age 4" in dark purple. He covered his smile with his hand. "That's amazing. I really love it, thank you."
"You're welcome."
Tony flicked a look Steve's way. "I didn't get you anything, sorry."
"That's okay. I wasn't expecting anything. Like I said, I saw it and thought of you."
JARVIS spoke up. "We could increase Captain Rogers' annual charity gift."
Tony snapped his fingers. "Good call, J. Double it. Merry Christmas, Steve."
"What?" Steve blinked that ceiling like he could see JARVIS' expression. "What's that?"
"It's nothing." Tony waved his hand dismissively.
"Mr. Stark donates a significant sum to a collection of charities each year at Christmas in each Avengers' name," JARVIS explained. Tony frowned towards one of the cameras in the corner.
"Really?" Steve turned his question to Tony.
"Sure." Tony shrugged. "Can't take it with you, right?"
"Why didn't you say anything?"
Tony pointed towards him, his cheeks dotting with pink. "To stop this from happening. Don't get all weird. I can send you the list of charities, if you like," he muttered.
"I'd like that, yes."
"It's nothing."
"Okay."
Steve turned back to the bowl of pancake batter, but he watched Tony turn the mug this way and that, grinning now. Something swelled almost painfully in his chest at the thought of Tony donating in their names and never telling them so as not to make it a thing. There was so much he didn't know about the other man.
When the coffee was done, Tony pointedly poured his in the mug Steve had given him. "We're starting with Rudolph and The Grinch - the original. We have to start your movie education with the basics."
Steve piled cooked pancakes on two plates. "Whatever you say."
"Now, why can't you have that attitude at work?" Tony asked, eyes twinkling.
Steve shook his head and handed Tony his pancakes. "Why can't you be interested on spending time on the basics at work?"
"Touché." Tony sipped his coffee. "Merry Christmas, by the way."
"Merry Christmas."
Tony tipped down on the couch, and Steve settled in beside him. Looked like they were going to be spending the majority of the day together. And Steve couldn't say he minded.
2015
Steve woke to pounding on his door. He stumbled to his feet, blinking and yawning and wrenched the door open to find Tony there, bouncing on his toes. "Hey Steve! Merry Christmas." He barreled inside and made a beeline for Steve's couch.
"Huh?" Steve followed him to the couch, his pajama pants twisting around his feet as he shuffled around. He tugged a blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it around his bare shoulders then shoved his chilled toes under Tony's thigh.
Tony patted his ankle. "I'll never get over how much of a morning person you're not. Merry Christmas! We were going to do our Christmas movie marathon today."
Steve blinked then whimpered, burying his face in the couch cushions. "I didn't know it was going to start at four in the morning."
"It's eight, you lunatic."
The world was already going fuzzy as Steve burrowed deeper in the couch cushions. Steve felt Tony's hand on his shoulder a moment later.
"Fine, you sleep. I'll make pancakes," Tony said softly, tucking the blanket in tighter around Steve as he walked by.
Steve woke half an hour later to the smell of bacon and melting butter. His stomach rumbled and he peeked over the back of the couch to see Tony in the kitchen, talking animatedly to himself and gesturing with a spatula. "Bacon?" Steve asked.
Tony stopped his monologue and grinned at Steve. "He's awake!"
"Merry Christmas," Steve said sheepishly. "I'm putting on a shirt." He stood and stretched then wandered into the bedroom, hearing Tony mutter something unintelligible as he left. He found a soft, grey t-shirt and pulled it on then layered a heavy button-up over top, leaving it open and folding the sleeves up to his elbows.
When he returned to the kitchen, Tony had a plate of bacon on the kitchen island and Steve leaned over, shoving a piece in his mouth and humming with pleasure. "Thanks," he said, smiling around his second piece.
"Payment is keeping your old man opinions to yourself during the marathon."
"Rude."
Tony handed him a plate of pancakes, dumped the rest of the bacon on it then leaned over the island and brandished his spatula. "Don't ruin this for me, spangles."
"You're the one who thinks a movie about terrorists blowing up an office building is Christmasy."
"It is. You'll see. It's criminal you haven't seen Die Hard yet. Plus, just wait til you see how hot Bruce Willis is in a dirty wife beater and no shoes."
Tony had turned his back to plate his own breakfast so he couldn't see Steve freeze up, and Steve forced himself to go over to the couch to have his panic in quiet solitude. Had Tony noticed something? Something in the way Steve looked at men? He knew it wasn't judged quite the same way, these days, but it still wasn't something people seemed to talk about much, and not everyone was okay with it. It sounded like Tony was okay with it, but Steve wasn't even sure if he was okay with it about himself yet. Did Tony expect to talk about it?
But when Tony came over, he was his usual self, trying to shove pancakes in his mouth while fiddling with the remote. Steve shot him a few looks as the movie started, but he was just watching placidly, shoulders relaxed, cozy in his Iron Man themed pajamas.
Steve relaxed the more he got into the movie, and it wasn't long before their plates were set aside, cleaned of food, and they sat close together, glued to the screen. Steve yelped when Hans Gruber grabbed a hold of Holly, almost pulling her out of the window, and Tony chuckled and poked his elbow into Steve's side.
Steve let out a breath as the credits rolled. "Wow, that was wild."
"Good, right?" Tony was beaming at him, nearly bouncing in his seat.
"Really good. And -" Steve held up a hand "- I admit. It's a Christmas movie."
"Yes!" Tony pumped his fist. "And what'd I tell you about Bruce Willis?"
"Uh." Steve froze, unable to hide it this time.
Tony turned towards him, brow furrowing. "You okay?" He frowned. "Oh, uh. Is this a born-in-the-forties thing? Cause… uh…" Tony trailed off and they sat there staring at each other.
Tony's eyes were warm and brown, and Steve didn't like the concern swirling through them. He wanted to smooth away the crease in Tony's forehead and assure him it was okay that Tony had noticed. He trusted him, but his stomach was fluttering with anxiety he couldn't put his finger on, and he was suddenly hyper-aware of the heat of Tony's thigh pressed needlessly tightly against his.
"Steve?" Tony said softly, way too softly. Steve searched for words but he couldn't find any. Then Tony cocked his head, smiled a little and said, "Hmm."
Then Tony kissed him.
The fluttering broke into a sea of wild butterflies, and Steve lost all control. He dove headfirst into the kiss, clutching Tony's arm, his leg, and pressing forward. Tony caught him in strong arms and held him close, easing him back when the kiss got too heated, too desperate.
"You okay?" Tony asked quietly when he broke the kiss, not moving farther away than a scant inch, their foreheads pressed together.
"No," Steve said, fingers tightening where they gripped Tony. "This is - this is not what I was expecting. But, uh, don't stop. Please?"
"Okay." Tony stroked a hand through his hair and a shudder shook its way down Steve's spine. "You're okay. I won't stop unless you want me to. Lord knows I don't want to. Been wanting this for a while." Tony kissed him again.
"Really?"
"Really. I've been dropping hints but I guess you haven't picked them up." He laughed lightly.
"Um." Steve smiled, tension bleeding out of his muscles at the soft petting of Tony's hands. "Might have been too caught up in my own shit to notice. Sorry."
"It's alright… you're here with me now, right?"
"Absolutely."
"Well then…" Tony climbed up in Steve's lap and the rest of their movie marathon was forgotten.
2016
Steve had barely slept. He sat up with his back against the pillows and watched Tony breathe softly beside him, eyes closed, one arm shoved up under the pillow. When Steve was small, he'd often felt like he had more feelings than could fit in his tiny frame, but after the serum he rarely felt that way.
Until he fell in love with Tony Stark. Now, he felt like he was overspilling with emotion all the time. Today was especially difficult. He shifted and squirmed, unable to focus on the book he was trying to read when his eyes kept insisting on sliding over to the sleeping man beside him.
When the clock ticked over to eight, Steve pounced, rolling Tony on his back and kissing him furiously until he blinked awake and batted Steve away. "Oh my god, what is up with you? What time is it?"
Steve grinned. "It's eight, you lunatic. And it's Christmas. Make me pancakes."
Tony snorted and rolled his face back into his pillow. He stretched his entire body in a way that made Steve's mouth go dry then sat up. "Yeah, alright." He tugged Steve back in for another kiss. "Pancakes?"
"And bacon."
Tony slipped out of bed, and Steve followed, belying his demand by pulling the eggs, milk, and butter out of the fridge himself. Cooking together was an easy dance they'd perfected over the past year. But frantic energy had Steve bouncing around, unable to sit still while the food cooked. "What's with you?" Tony asked with an affectionate smile.
"I'm excited to give you your Christmas present," Steve admitted, sitting on his hands so he wouldn't shred the stack of paper towels he'd laid out for the bacon.
Tony shot him a look. "You weren't supposed to get me anything big."
"I didn't." Steve waited until Tony's back was turned to lie. "I just think you're going to get a kick out of it."
"Hmm. I bet I will. But first, we eat. Home Alone?"
"Sure."
Steve managed to sit mostly still for the movie, knowing he was going to have to watch it again after, because only about ten minutes of the movie actually penetrated his brain. When the movie was over, they cleaned up from breakfast and collapsed back on the couch together, the tree glowing with twinkling lights and ornaments in the corner.
"Alright, you're going to implode if you don't give me whatever this is. Hand it over."
Steve tugged Tony into a kiss with a laugh then stood to go root around under the tree. There were wrapped gifts for all the Avengers, and when they got back to the tower after New Years, they'd all have a big dinner and open them, but this morning was just for him and Tony.
Steve found a small square package at the back and palmed it. He willed his racing heart to stop and settled on the couch next to Tony again. "Here." He set it on Tony's knee. "Merry Christmas."
Tony quirked an eyebrow at him then sat forward, reaching for the box. He peeled the paper off and tossed it aside, and Steve saw the moment it clicked into place. He took a deep breath, held it, and slid to the floor on one knee. "Tony -"
Tony shot a hand out and pressed a finger against Steve's lips, silencing him. His eyes hadn't moved from the box. He levered it open carefully, and his mouth twisted, eyes wide, bottom lip caught between his teeth. He stared at it for a moment - Steve's heart refusing to beat - then flicked his gaze up to meet Steve's. "Yes," he said quietly, barely a scratchy whisper.
"I - what? You - Tony I didn't even ask yet. I had a speech," Steve protested weakly.
"I can't hear it, I'll lose my cool completely, and I don't want to ugly cry on Christmas. Just - just yes. Yes, please. Can we do the kissing, happy bit now? I -" Tony dropped his eyes back to the box and his expression twisted further.
Steve surged up and caught Tony in his arms, tipping him backwards onto the couch. Tony started laughing wetly, and Steve kissed every inch of him he could reach, making him laugh harder. "Yes?" Steve couldn't help but double check.
"Yes. Yes, I'll marry you, okay? Shit, Steve. I'm - ha - Is this thing on?" Tony tapped against the front of the arc reactor, and Steve bent down to kiss it. "You totally got me. I was not expecting that."
"I was worried about making it a surprise, but that conversation we had last month…"
"Yes, no. Good. It's all good." Tony pulled him into a heated kiss. "You were right. I was - I was fishing. Fishing for myself, of course, but you had to go and show me up and do it first. Shit." Tony collapsed back on the couch and threw his arms wide. "Wow. We're getting married." He burst into laughter, and Steve licked it out of his mouth until they both tumbled to the floor with a double cry of surprise.
Tony sat up and handed the box to Steve. "Do the thing." He thrust his hand at Steve.
Steve took the ring out of the box, unable to tamp down the wild grin that seemed permanently stuck to his face. He slipped the ring on - a perfect fit - then pulled Tony's hand up to his lips and kissed it.
"Hey, Steve?"
Steve looked up and his breath caught at the raw emotion in Tony's eyes. "Yeah?" he breathed.
"Merry Christmas."
+ 2022
Steve woke with a groan as a knee pressed sharply into his side. A small hand landed on his chest as the other knee found his crotch with startling accuracy. "Ah!" Steve folded up, scooping the child up on instinct and settling her next to him on the bed. "Mia, what time is it?"
"Um. Four something," she stage-whispered.
"What are you doing up at four-something?" Steve asked.
She leaned over and rested a hand on his cheek, face deathly serious. "It's Christmas, Daddy."
"Barely," grumbled a voice beside them, muffled by layers of blankets. "She's your -"
"I swear to god, Tony," Steve said, "if you say she's my kid before eight I'm going to -"
"I was going to say she's your kid - full stop." Tony emerged from the blankets and lifted Maria into his arms. "Mixed up, my ass. I knew your super-soldier super-swimmers would get there first, only confirmed when Lily doubled over and started crying the first time this little tadpole kicked. All you, Rogers."
Steve grinned, watching Tony ruffle his fingers through Maria's curly, brown hair. "Sure, Tony."
"I told Mia to wait," said a grumpy voice from behind him, and Steve rolled over to find a puff of blond hair peeking over the edge of the mattress.
"You want up, James?" he asked, and the hair nodded.
Steve reached over and scooped him up with one arm, tucking his tiny body under the covers between them.
"Can we get more sleep before breakfast?" Tony asked, a hint a desperation sneaking in. They'd been up til past midnight wrapping.
"But Santa came!" Maria yelped, bouncing a little, and James giggled.
"Santa only comes for good kids," Tony said seriously. "And I don't know any good kids."
"I was good!" James whined.
"Hmm," Tony considered him. "Maybe once. When you were a tiny baby. But certainly not since then."
"One hour," Steve begged. "We're all going back to sleep, quietly, for one more hour and then we can get up and see if Santa came. Deal?"
Two tiny heads nodded. Steve and Tony squirmed around until the two kids were tucked in between them. If they managed to actually fall asleep, they could probably manage another two hours. Steve caught Tony's eye over their heads, and Tony smiled. "All we need now is -"
A plaintive wail broke the silence they'd finally managed, and Steve snuggled down under the blankets. "Yours."
"Hey! It's totally your turn."
"You cursed us," Steve said.
"I didn't say it!"
"You were about to."
They stared each down for a moment then Tony sighed. "Yeah, I totally was. Alright."
Steve peeked out of the covers to watch Tony's bare back in the soft light as he disappeared out of the door and down the hall. A few minutes later, he returned with a tiny bundle tucked against his chest. "Jealous," he whispered, tucking up against Maria's back as he slid into bed. "Wanted to join family time."
"I bet." Steve reached over the two older kids and brushed his knuckle over the sleeping baby's cheek. "Think we can get another hour?"
Tony caught Steve's hand and wound their fingers together, sinking into the pillows, the baby settled across his chest. "Rugrats are already out cold. I think we can get two." His eyes fluttered shut.
"Hey, Tony?"
Tony opened one eye and tilted his head towards Steve.
Steve squeezed his hand and wrapped his arm more securely around his family. "Merry Christmas."