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The moment Steve drew Tony’s name for the Secret Santa, he knew he was fucked.
Ok, that wasn’t the word he used, but the general emotion was the same.
After all, what do you buy a man who could literally buy himself anything? Especially Tony Stark, a man who did buy himself whatever he wanted?
So needless to say that Steve Rogers spend a majority of December 1st in a slight panic of what he was going to do for Tony. After spending time researching gift ideas (as well as getting into a small fight with Google— damn thing kept leading him to strange websites just because he searched “gift ideas for Iron Man”), Steve realized there was nothing he could buy Tony.
He would have to resort to making things instead.
Food was a logical first choice. Tony didn’t get enough of it. Well, he didn’t get enough good food (how many times could one eat Chinese takeout in a week?), so Steve decided he’d cook for Tony.
First he made chocolate chip banana bread and brought it to Tony’s room. It took JARVIS reminding him that Tony spent the least amount of time in his bedroom for Steve to change his plans to sneaking food into Tony’s workshop. He was lucky that JARVIS was willing to conspire with him (and by conspire, it meant keeping the cameras away from Steve whenever he snuck into the lab and making sure Tony was distracted enough that he didn’t notice when the doors were opened.
It was satisfying to see Tony coming into the living from on occasion, munching on the baked goods Steve had made while looking at the other Avengers suspiciously.
“Something the matter, Tony?” Steve asked once, trying to seem genuinely curious.
Tony glanced at him, “Who’s your Secret Santa?”
Steve raised an eyebrow, “I’m not exactly one to gift and tell, Tony.”
“Oh come on!” Tony whined, “Can you at least help me find mine?”
“No Tony!” Steve laughed, “That’s the point of the secret. You’ll find out Christmas Eve like everyone else.”
Tony sprawled out on the countertop, shoving a chocolate chip cookie in his mouth (one that Steve had made just the night before). “You’re a terrible boyfriend, you know that?”
“I’m not giving you what you want, dare I?” Steve rolled his eyes.
Tony glared up at him, “I’m a terrible influence on you.”
Steve smiled, patting Tony’s back, “Why don’t we head back to your room? You can be a terrible influence on me there.” He winked.
Of course, given an invitation like that, Tony quickly abandoned his search for his Secret Santa in exchange for a more…interesting venture.
To say that Steve was rather proud of himself for being able to keep his Secret Santa-ing a, well, secret, was an understatement. Whenever Tony got curious about who his Secret Santa was, Steve could distract him with sex. Which worked quite effectively for the entire month.
So the stunned look on Tony’s face when Steve revealed, on Christmas Eve, that he was Tony’s Secret Santa, was especially satisfying.
“You?” Tony blinked, “This whole time?”
“Come on, Stark.” Clint rolled his eyes, opening his own present, “You’ve been getting home cooked food all month, and Steve is the only one of us who actually spends any time in the kitchen.”
Steve smiled, kissing Tony’s cheek, “It’s alright that you didn’t figure it out, Tony.”
Tony just grinned, “Are you kidding? I got good food and sex! Best Secret Santa ever!”
Part of Steve wanted to argue that the sex hadn’t been part of the Secret Santa, but he didn’t have the heart. Apparently Steve was the best person to be Tony’s Secret Santa.