Chapter Text
“Despite the set-backs, the mission was a success,” Fury explains, eying Tony from across the desk. “We’re sending out a STRIKE team to take down the last stragglers, and we’re interrogating the captives for more info on buyers and other bases.”
Tony leans back in his chair and clasps his hands behind his head. Yes, the base was emptied and destroyed, all of its occupants either killed or taken back for questioning. That certainly counts as a success. Nobody died, either. Steve’s the only one in surgery right now. Fury doesn’t seem to give a damn. “I bet Barton could have done it,” he shrugs.
“Or Romanoff, or any number of my agents,” Fury agrees calmly. “But I didn’t send them. I sent you.”
“So the hacking thing was a ploy, then,” Tony accuses.
“Not entirely,” the director responds. “No-one else could have made quicker, neater work of it. I knew you wouldn’t leave all your toys behind even if I ordered you to, though I didn’t expect you to be brash enough to bring Iron Man.”
“But you expected Cap to protect me at all costs.”
Fury doesn’t budge, even under the judgmental stare from the inventor. “Yes, Stark. I did. I knew there was a chance things could go wrong. There always is. If a fight broke out, I needed to know you’d be safe. Nobody could have protected you better than he can.”
“At the expense of his own safety,” Tony argues. Cuts and scrapes are one thing.
“Yes,” Fury replies firmly. “Sometimes risk and sacrifice are necessary. In the end, I knew the two of you would get the job done. You wanted another chance at redemption, Stark? I gave you one. You may have been fooling the world, but you can’t fool me.”
“So you’ve been spying on me.”
“Trying to take care of you,” the director does give a little now, sighing ever so slightly. “The Avengers may have disbanded, and was never my team in the first place, but I like to think I can still do something to help. You need each other. Besides. It’s not hard to spy on a man always in the limelight.”
‘Each other’ here isn’t the entire team, not in this context. “You lied to me.”
“I omitted some details I felt you didn’t need to know,” Fury agrees. “But if I’d told Steve he needs to relax, he wouldn’t have listened. And if I’d told you that spending some time with the Captain would help you find someone to talk to, you’d have refused, too. You’re not alone, Tony. Neither is Steve. The two of you could stand to rub off on each other.”
Tony doesn’t like feeling manipulated, but he has to admit that an underhanded approach was the only way of making this arrangement work. He sits there in silence, trying to decide how he feels about all this. Fury is right though, he’s glad to have had the company. What irks him the most is that he still feels Fury is flippant about Steve’s safety.
“Sir, we're finished with Captain Rogers,” a woman pokes her head through the door. “We’re just moving him to a room.”
Tony is already on his feet, striding right for the door. He has no more words for the director. Besides, he’s got some promises to keep. The woman glances back into the room as Tony approaches, but she leads the inventor off anyway. Fury follows, and Tony ignores him. “How is he?” Steve’s all that matters.
“With a few days’ rest he’ll be good as new,” the woman smiles at him over her shoulder. “The scans showed he'll make a full recovery with no need for intervention. He might have some trouble walking for a little while, but nothing should be permanent. The serum is already well on its way to healing him.”
Tony has a feeling this may not be the first time the serum has mended the un-mendable. As he understands it, the Captain is more-or-less immune to anesthetics, too. He wonders how many surgeries Steve’s been awake for.
SHIELD medical is just as sterile and cold as any other hospital. Tony hates it, and vows to get Steve out of here as fast as possible. “How long are you keeping him here?” he asks more aggressively than is necessary.
“Couple of days,” the nurse replies, unfazed and perfectly professional. “Just to keep an eye on how everything is healing.” She glances at Fury. “He shouldn’t go back to work for two weeks at least.”
“Make it three,” Tony pushes past her the second they reach the room. He doesn’t provide any time to argue, he just pushes open the door, and shuts it behind him.
Steve is already awake, blinking drowsily around the room. There’s a relieving lack of equipment attached to him, just a vitals machine really. He’s wearing a padded plastic collar, and Tony can see the bulk of bandages wrapped around his ribs. The powder blue gown is a snug fit around his wide shoulders, doing nothing to hide how huge the soldier is.
"Back in action?" Tony pulls up the chair and sits.
"Almost." Steve smiles wearily, a wince flickering across his face. "Wish I had some painkillers, but you know. I'm not paralyzed. Can't complain." He wiggles his toes under the thin blanket.
"And what I wouldn't give to see you off your tits on morphine," Tony agrees. "You’ve got yourself three weeks off. I think we need to go shopping and get you a Rolex.” He reaches over to pull on Steve's paper bracelet. "Your accessorizing needs work."
"Huh...? Oh." Steve looks at his bracelet. "I'm not a watch guy."
"Read-the-sun type of guy?" Tony surmises.
Steve smiles. The collar smooths out his jaw and makes him look extra adorable. "You learn that stuff in the army."
“I’m breaking you out of here in a couple of days,” Tony promises. “And... you can come home with me. If you like. Better than moping around by yourself for three weeks. I guess. I mean, you might not want the company. Or my company. I won’t mother hen you, I promise. Well, I might just a little bit, because I still feel kinda bad-”
“S’okay." Steve waves his hand. “Tony, s’okay.”
It’s really not. This whole mission has been a complete disaster. If he hadn’t lost control of himself, they’d have gotten out safely. The two of them had been doing so well right up until he’d lost himself and called the suit. And Steve got hurt for it. Really hurt. It doesn’t matter that everything will heal, that nothing is permanent. What matters is that Tony made a mistake, and someone else suffered for it.
Steve didn't hesitate for a second when he jumped off that cliff.
Steve isn’t a hardened, soulless soldier who only cares for order and rules. He’s sweet and friendly and understanding. He wants to make other people happy, even within his own suffering. He’s endlessly selfless, endlessly caring, and more human than anyone Tony has ever met. All of that he knows from just a couple of days spent in some cave. Now it looks more and more that they’ll get to spend some more time together. How much more will he learn about the Captain? There’s more to learn, he knows it. Steve’s already alluded to some of those layers.
There’s more to learn about Tony, too. Steve’s smart, a lot smarter than the engineer first perceived him to be. He’ll soon figure out that though Tony doesn’t sell weapons anymore, that won’t stop him from being the Merchant of Death. On top of that, he’s a wreck. Steve can’t possibly want to be friends with someone so broken.
The mission is over, so there’s nothing riding on him if he splits open. Without conscious effort, his walls are crumbling down. And it’s Steve’s soft eyes that drive the chisel into the cracks. The soldier shouldn’t see this. He needs to rest, not worry himself over Tony. So Tony leans forward and shields his eyes with a hand, clenching the other into a fist. “God, Steve... I’m so sorry.” He needs to say it, and Steve needs to let him.
Steve’s hand gently lands on top of his head. “It’s okay.” He says softly, with a faint crack of his own. "I'm just glad that I — I'm glad that I caught you."
Tony lifts his head up under the weight of Steve's hand and looks across at the soldier's weary, scraped-up face and sees the glimmer of tears unshed, hears the quiver of a dam threatening to break. He slips the hand off and holds it. "Me too," he replies. "And I'm glad JARVIS caught you."
"Me too," Steve smiles.
--
It’s amazing what a few days can do. Steve’s moving his legs by himself after two days of rest, while Tony helps him turn his upper body. His feet dangle off the edge of bed, and the nurse tests his reflexes. They’re a little weak and slow, but they’re not far from healthy. She brings him some slippers and slides them onto his feet.
Both of them help the soldier off the bed and onto his feet. He’s wincing, but his legs are holding him. He takes a couple of shaky steps, quickly settling into the rhythm after that. The nurse leaves them to it.
They set off around the room, Steve happy to lean a little into Tony’s support. His gait smooths out with every step. At this rate, he’ll be standing tall and straight in another couple of days.
“I never thought anybody could make a gown look good, but you pull it off,” Tony shakes his head. It's disappointing that it doesn’t hang open at the back, though it does resemble a minidress given how high up it rides on the soldier’s thighs. It doesn’t do much justice to his tapering hips though. Pair of jeans will fix that. Soon they’ll be free, and Steve can walk around in the tightest shirts Tony can find him. My house, my rules.
“You really sure about coming over?” Steve asks quietly. “I mean... we don’t know each other that well.”
“Only one way to fix that,” Tony shrugs. “Course I’m sure. Somebody’s gotta keep an eye on you and make sure you do as you’re told.”
“I’ll have to get my stuff from the apartment.”
Tony waves a hand. “Just give me your address. We can stop by on the way out, if you want.”
“Okay,” Steve agrees. “Thanks.”
They walk all the way to the end of the hallway, and by that time Steve’s stable enough to limp along without any support. Tony still stays close, their shoulders pressed together as they make their way all the way back to the bed. Steve’s pale and sweaty, but he looks too happy to care.
“Good to be back on your feet, huh,” Tony smiles proudly. He’s glad this process won’t be any longer or more complicated. The serum has done its job perfectly. “You want a hand getting dressed?”
“Maybe...” Steve winces. He’s still too sore to bend down and touch his toes, or twist all that much.
“Okay, sit up,” Tony lowers the bed and pats the mattress, picking up the bag of clothes SHIELD left for the soldier. It’s a pair of sweats with the SHIELD eagle on them, a plain white shirt, a grey hoodie, and some sandals. “This isn’t what you normally wear, is it?”
Steve shrugs. “What’s wrong with it?”
“Better than those ridiculous pleated pants you showed up to the helicarrier wearing two years ago,” Tony crinkles his face. “You don’t still wear those, do you?”
Steve scowls at him, but it has no real scorn in it. “No. I don’t. Natasha made me get rid of them.”
“I hope she burned them,” Tony’s all swagger and confidence until Steve’s pulling on the strings of his gown and letting it fall away from his body. Suddenly he’s sitting there basically naked, save for his underwear, the collar round his neck, and the bandages on his chest. There’s a lot of Steve to behold, all of him covered in perfect skin. Tony catches himself staring and quickly pulls the shirt over Steve’s head. By the time the soldier’s face is poking through, the engineer is down on one knee feeding the pants onto his legs. It’s enough time to get himself under control.
Steve puts on the hoodie while Tony puts on his sandals. The engineer picks up the back of belongings, the nurse signs the soldier out, and they make their way down to the lobby.
Happy is waiting for them in the car, and watches as they both slide into the back seat. “Captain,” he greets. “Where to?”
“We have some things to pick up first,” Tony nods.
--
Steve’s apartment is strikingly empty. There are a few pictures put up, but the whole place is sickeningly organized. It looks more like a museum than an actually place someone lives in.
Happy helps Steve fold some clothes and personal belongings into a suitcase. It doesn’t take more than fifteen minutes to collect everything. Tony stands by the bookshelf in the living room and picks up the photo there. It’s black and white, and a little yellowed within the frame. It’s of Steve, and a group of people he knows are the Howling Commandos. Howard told him about them, but mostly about Captain America.
There he is, with his floppy hair and his boyish smile. Physically, he hasn’t aged a day, but his eyes tell the story of decades’ worth of suffering. He’s lost everything so suddenly, and is struggling to fill in the gaps left over. Tony sets down the picture. It makes a lot more sense now why Steve has been so brisk with him in the past. And Tony’s probably not been too sensitive either.
“I have everything.” Steve’s suddenly there, waiting by the door, stuffing his toothbrush into the suitcase. Tony whirls around and joins them.
The soldier tries to take the case from Happy, insisting the weight is nothing for him, but the man won’t have it and insists on lugging it down himself. There isn’t much in it, at least, but Tony knows Steve could have tucked it under his arm like a purse. With his back still healing though, the inventor is on Happy’s side.
The drive up to the house is shorter than it usually feels. Steve’s staring out the window, watching the world go by. They get further and further from the city, finally pulling onto open road. The view is pretty good, and it’ll only get better. Tony smiles and watches his friend admire the seaside view with a warm heart. The soldier’s hand is sitting right there on the seat beside him, within reach, almost asking to be touched.
He doesn’t. “You ever been up here?”
“Nope,” Steve’s ears dust fuscia, and the color reaches down his neck underneath the collar. Tony wonders how far down it goes.
“Makes the trip worth it. Loads more roads up here like this. I could show you around. Take the convertible, get the wind in your hair, sun on your face. It’s nice.”
“Okay,” Steve smiles at him. Happy watches from the rearview mirror.
They’re at the house, finally. Tony leads Steve through the lobby, Happy following at a polite distance with the suitcase. They go up to the spare room. The bed’s been made. Steve looks around, pushing on the mattress with his hand. He takes off his sandals and pads around the hardwood floor while Tony watches him from the doorframe.
“Is this all mine?” the soldier pokes his head into the en-suite.
“Sure thing cupcake,” Tony grins. “There’s a pool up on the deck, and if you need anything you can always ask JARVIS.”
“Welcome home sir,” the AI chimes in. “Captain.”
Tony’s brought plenty of girls home. He’s never wanted to indulge any of them as much as he wants to indulge Steve, spoil him so much he can never go back to less. He can’t even imagine a day when Steve will leave, even though he knows the soldier might pack up at the end of the three weeks when he’s allowed back to work. Maybe he’ll leave sooner. Tony tries not to think about that as he watches Steve run his hands along the soft sheets.
“I’ll uh, leave you to it?” he offers. “JARVIS can order dinner. Whatever you want. I’ll be down in my workshop. If you want me.”
Steve smiles. “Thanks Tony. I’m gonna have a shower, I think.”
“Okay, be careful.” You’re gonna love the jets, big guy. They’ll massage the tension right out of you. Twenty minutes in there will make you a new man. "Let me know if you need help.”
Steve agrees gratefully, and Tony takes his leave.
It feels like forever since he’s been down in his workshop. Tony walks down the stairs on jelly legs, feeling strangely giddy. It’s been ages since he’s had a house guest, but it’s never made him feel quite as victorious as this. It feels... satisfying.
The tools for the project Fury called him away from are still laid out on the work bench. Tony sits down and looks over at the extra-strength garbage bag full of the suit he originally brought with him to the island. He looks back at the array of supplies in front of him, then back at the cases of extra suits all around him. JARVIS has cleaned and repaired them as well as he can in the inventor’s absence. He spots the blue and silvers ones docked next to each other.
Perhaps it’s time to start fresh. Tony leaves the garbage bag and pulls up his holographic interface. Without hesitation, he scraps his designs for the automatic assembly and starts fresh.
Two hours pass in a wink. He’s spinning a new gauntlet model in the air when he hears the doors open. Steve’s there, dressed in jeans and socks instead of his sweats. His hair is still damp from a shower, sticking up at odd angles. He’s leaning on the railing, his body still too stiff to move with its usual fluidity. He’s got a paper bag in his free hand.
“Hey,” Tony gets up to help him, guiding him over to the couch. His heart is hammering in his chest.
“Hey,” Steve smiles, leaning back with a wince and wrapping a hand around his ribs. He holds up the paper bag, and Tony takes it from him. “Dinner. JARVIS said you liked burgers.”
He does. Tony sits down beside the soldier and pulls out the food. “All settled?”
“Yup,” Steve agreed, taking what’s handed to him. “Took me a while to find my way around. Kinda got distracted by the view.”
“Get distracted as much as you want,” Tony shrugs. “You don’t have to hang down here if you don’t want to.”
Steve unwraps his burger. His body sometimes still stalls and jerks. His fingers push clumsily at the paper. “Wanted to come hang out with you. If that’s okay... unless you’re busy. I won’t get in the way, I promise.”
“Nonsense,” Tony grins. Who could say no to those sad puppy eyes? “I’d like the company. Here, I‘ll show you what I’m making.” He can’t hold himself together all of a sudden, brimming with the crackling desire to show Steve all his projects. The awe and interest in the soldier’s eyes is intoxicating, and it makes him feel... magnificent. If there’s another word for it, his genius brain can’t find it.
Steve smiles. With the collar rounding out his jaw, and he looks even more like that soft young man from the photo in the apartment.
They eat and talk. Tony shows him the holographic designs, explains the process of building something from scratch, lays out his ideas, and shows off just what he’s capable of. He’s never felt so out of control as he does now, watching 3D models drawn in blue reflecting in Steve’s big eyes full of insatiable wonder. Tony gets it all to himself, gets to impress Steve while simultaneously basking in the Captain’s enamored gaze. Even flying above everything in Iron Man, he could never feel as high as he does now. He’s on top of the world.
“How does that work?” Steve points to the glowing circle in the middle of his shirt.
“The arc reactor?” Tony taps it. He has half a mind to take off his shirt so the soldier can get a better look. “Here, I’ll show you.” He pulls up the designs on the hologram and sits backward in his chair, pointing into the picture protected in the air between them. “This is the old model. See? That’s palladium...”
He tells Steve about how he invented an element. He explains the design of the reactor, how it all works to make its own power. And Steve stares at the hologram like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “Is it warm?” he asks.
It is a power-making device, and nothing is ever one-hundred percent efficient. The arc reactor comes pretty close, closer than any other power source on the planet, but there is still some energy lost to heat. Tony brushes the hologram aside and comes closer. His arms have a better handle on the mood than he does, because they don’t hesitate to pull off his shirt. He takes Steve’s hand in his and sets it to the glowing circle in the middle of his chest.
Steve’s got such long fingers. Surprisingly long. Artist’s fingers. He glances up to Tony to make sure this is really okay, before running his index along the edge. The reactor is a little warm, soaking into the metal casing, and into his chest. “Does it hurt?” Steve asks quietly.
“It always aches in the background,” Tony shrugs. “It’s not so bad. You get used to it.”
Steve draws his hand back. They're very close. Tony has to speak before it’s too late, before the words choke him. He’s never felt like this before, what Steve’s stirring up inside of him. He’s... liked plenty of people. But never like this. There’s no time to think about the details, about what Steve and his old-timey morals might think about this. There’s no time to think about what this might do for their friendship, or how awkward it might be if this doesn’t work and they still end up living together for these three weeks, or if Steve leaves.
There’s no time. Time has nearly been taken from Tony before, and he has to do this while he can. First things first though. “Steve... thank you. For saving me.” That’s what he should have been saying all along.
Steve smiles. “Any time. Thanks for letting me borrow your suit, and for letting me stay here. Been kinda lonely. It’ll be nice to have the company. You don’t owe me anything though, Tony. You’ve been really generous-”
“I didn’t do it for that,” Tony retorts. “I didn’t do it to pay you back. I...” His mouth is very dry. In the corner, JARVIS turns on his record player and drops the needle. Quiet music fills the shop, and the lights dim. That bastard... He has to say it now. Queen’s ‘Somebody to Love’ is playing in the background. Steve’s listening patiently, watching expectantly. That blush has crept back up through the triangle of chest visible between his shirt and brace, crawling all the way up to his face. There’s confusion in his expression, but he doesn’t pull away.
Oh, god.
“I... kinda have a crush on you. I think.” He’s never felt more like a teenager.
He waits in terror for Captain America to respond. But the soldier doesn’t spit in disgust or walk away. He blushes deeper, and doesn’t say a word.
Tony comes closer, gets down on one knee and moves with some of his classic confidence. Steve’s licking his lips, struggling to know how to respond. He’s leaning forward though, as if some kind of instinct is driving him, too. Tony closes the gap, opening his mouth and pushing it against Steve’s willing lips. It feels just as safe and warm as when the Captain drew him into a hug in that supply closet. Steve’s arm comes up and pulls him closer, affirming that this is okay and encouraging him to give more. Tony does. He’s a good kisser, and Steve definitely isn’t, but that’s alright. Steve just lets him do whatever he wants to, willing and easy-going. He doesn’t resist.
They end up sprawled on the couch. Tony helps Steve lie flatter, pushing the throw pillows under him and leaning over his face. Finally, he finds his voice, but he can’t think of anything meaningful to say. “Wow, you are one terrible kisser, Rogers.”
“Can’t help it,” Steve taps his collar. “This thing’s in the way.”
“Pff, excuses,” Tony smirks. “I expect an improvement of at least fifty percent when you get that off.”
“Am I really that bad?” Steve winces.
“Aw, you’re not that terrible,” Tony chuckles. “But you could use some practice.” He leans his elbows on the sofa cushions and rests against it.
“Been a while,” Steve admits bashfully, wiping his mouth on his hand.
“And this is... okay?”
“Yeah, it really is,” the soldier smiles. “Really okay.”
So Fury is a matchmaker. Tony grins. “Then I guess you’re staying.”
“Long as you’ll have me.”
“Long as you like,” Tony stands up. “Hang tight, cupcake. Be right back.” The world feels brighter and warmer. Maybe tonight he can ignore his projects and actually get a healthy amount of sleep.
He fetches a blanket and some more pillows, jogging all the way. Steve lets himself be manipulated, and Tony carefully props up his huge body until he’s comfortable. He drapes a blanket over the soldier’s torso. Everything feels sudden and easy. All his fears are gone, just like that. “I guess that means I get to do this, then,” he leans over and kisses his new house-mate's forehead.
“Means I can do this, then,” Steve grabs the inventor by the arm and pulls him down, kissing his lips.
“You’re a ham, Cap,” Tony wishes he could stay up all night like this, but Steve looks exhausted. His eyes are content but heavy-lidded.
They stay up for a little longer. DUM-E manages to put the coffee on without burning the house down, and Tony positions himself so that he can massage Steve’s legs. They’re still tingling a little, according to the soldier. Tony happily rubs new life into them, digging his fingers into the muscles as he admires them. There’s a lot of Steve to love. They talk about mundane things and sip coffee. Steve laughs, his eyes bright. Tony asks him about what he does in his spare time, about the sights he explores, and the food he eats. It feels natural, like he’s known this man all his life.
Finally, Steve falls asleep. Tony tucks him in and gives him one last kiss before curling up on the floor beside the couch. He leans his head on the cushions, and falls right to sleep, happier than he’s been in a long time. It feels like a win after a streak of losses, climbing victorious out of a ring he could never escape. He’s bruised and bloody, but alive and climbing back up toward the light. Steve will help him. And he’ll help Steve. He’ll make sure the soldier has a place here in this world, and that he’s never alone. It’ll be tough, he knows it: their personalities are different enough that they’ll clash again for sure. But that’s alright. They can work through their differences, as they’ve already proven. Tony will do everything he can to make this work, because it’s what he wants more than anything else in his life.
He wants Steve, and Steve wants him back. This feels like a turning point second only to the birth of Iron Man. It feels good.
--
Both men are asleep. JARVIS works as quietly as he can, taking control of the silver suit in the case. He walks the metal body over to the sofa while DUM-E grabs a corner of the blanket across Steve in his claw. The robot draws it back, and Iron Man gets to one knee. He scoops Mr. Stark’s slumbering body off the floor and deposits him across Steve’s broad chest.
JARVIS carefully arranges Mr. Stark into a more comfortable position. DUM-E drops the blanket back over both men, and Iron Man tucks them in. Then he walks the suit back to where it belongs, and powers it off.