Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

And somedays it don’t come easy,

And somedays it don’t come hard,

Somedays it don’t come at all and these are the days that never end.

I’d Do Anything For Love (But I Won’t Do That), Meatloaf.

Tony wanted to hurl the phone across the room.

Opening the drawer of Steve’s desk – and lord was it bad enough he was sat in Steve’s office, little used as it was, to read that infernal letter – he rather wished he had.

No hint of them, in this room, in the letter. No whisper of their late nights, their hurried mornings. All those little stolen moments, little moments of care and calm – a solace in the storms of their lives, found in each other. No hint of even a second of it; except for the little black velvet box tucked away in the drawer. Tony’s not aware of dropping the phone to the desk, as he pulls out the box – his hands aren’t shaking, they aren’t – and flips up its lid, the hinge stiff.

The ring nestles in deep red material, a thick golden band with a blue star inlaid. It’s simplistic, yet it’s perfect, and Tony’s choking back a sob. He stares at it for a moment, wondering what the shock it’s brought him would feel like in a different circumstance – less like acid, he knows. Warm. He’d probably cry, Steve down on one knee with those hopeful blue eyes of his that Tony loves. The answer would be shaking, and the ring would be slipped on with gentle fingers-

It’d fit him perfectly. He’s so certain it would, and he longs to try it on but it’s… it’s not something he gets now. He’s not even sure when he lost it, he just knows that it’s not his, anymore.

I found the ring, you fucking asshole.

He hits send, and then, finally, throws the phone. He doesn’t pause as he forces himself out of Steve’s old space to see if it shattered against the wall, the box dropped back into the drawer.

---

He gets drunk three weeks later, the first drop he’s had since Ultron – and fuck does it feel something like betrayal – and finds himself back in the office.

The phone isn’t broken, and there’s texts waiting, but Tony won’t look at them now. He doesn’t owe Steve that. He sits down in the desk chair, and rests his head on the desk – it’s cool, but it won’t soothe him. Rhodey’s got a long road to any semblance of recovery, and Vision is just drifting, more robotic now that even Jarvis ever was, and Tony aches. He aches with everything he’s lost, and he can’t pinpoint why or how, just that it’s his fault.

He forces himself to sit up, resists the urge to throw up when the world spins, and finds himself staring at that little box again. He drinks it in, and wonders – like the damn thing hasn’t been plaguing his thoughts for weeks – when Steve got it? Before Ultron? Before Washington? Because honestly, doesn’t that make all the difference… the circumstances changed so much. He hasn’t thrown it away, sold it back or lost it – it should count for something, but Tony is the King of second guessing, and Steve’s a precious fuck about his money like Tony couldn’t buy him the world if he asked for it.

He slips on the band this time, turning his hand this way and that to watch the light from the window dance over it. The weight of it is nice, obvious without being uncomfortable. Given the circumstances, it feels constrictive, but he doesn’t take it off as he stumbles, box in hand, to find the phone.

He slumps down against the wall when he gets there, knees pulled up, and flips open the damn thing. The screen blinks brightly at him in the dim room. 3 new messages. Tony almost deletes them, but he’s interrupted by a sharp knock and the door opening. Tony scrambles to his feet and drops the box behind the shelf, the phone abruptly shoved in his pocket – but Pepper’s pity is still there, still cuts him. She walks up to him carefully, and cradles his face in her hands, pushes his hair back from his face and kisses his forehead. She takes his hand and leads him out with clicking heels, and it’s only when he puts his hands back in his pockets to check the phone is still there that he realises why her face had fallen so; he’s still wearing the ring.

---

He leaves the ring on til morning, when he wakes up hungover, and takes it off in disgust at himself.

---

The messages remain unread.

---

Gods… Tony I’m so sorry.

I wanted… I didn’t want to hurt you. Especially never like this.

Tony?  

---

It’s two months beyond Day Zero – as Rhodey’s taken to calling it, and honestly, the ridiculousness of it is one of the few things that makes Tony smile – when he finally has to visit T’Challa.

In Wakanda.

Where he’s pretending he doesn’t know the Avengers are.

Honestly, Tony should do a Peter and cite too much homework as a reason not to go. With the World Council still breathing down his neck, he’s… he’s not sure. Does he not want to go because he won’t want to come back? Or because it’s not safe? And it’s not, for him or for T’Challa, or Them^TM. He doesn’t have a choice though, and so he goes.

T’Challa knows that Tony knows, it’s obvious in the way his smile turns sad then speculative as Tony thanks him for his hospitality with a little too much thanks. Tony pretends not to notice. He’s getting good at pretending, so many years of pretending he’s fine.

Part of him never realised he’d stopped for a moment, back there.

---

The talks go well. Tony’s playing Devil’s Advocate for the accords, travelling more than is strictly necessary, but Pepper has his back. It’s the only good thing in this entire shit storm that she’s so firmly in his corner, managing Stark Industries with such grace and dignity that Tony still loves her. Never quite like he loves Steve; with her it’s soft, and quiet, and easy. It’s… pure, an admiration and a large measure of care that he loves her with. She returns in, the quirk of her eyebrow and the brush of her fingers, but it’s not the same as being in love, and Tony… prefers it.

Watching her at a press conference, with Natalie Rushman back at her shoulder, Tony feels like at least someone will get out of this mess intact. Still, he sends her;

What the actual fuck, Pep?

And gets;

She wants to start making things right. She’s your assistant from the 19^th.

In return.

It actually makes him smile.

---

Natasha looks nervous.

It throws Tony off guard, because Natasha doesn’t show anything akin to weakness unless that in itself is an attack. She smiles when Tony falls into step beside her, though, small but genuine.

“No more masks,” she tells him, “no more lies.” Tony only nods his agreement, not trusting his voice. “I missed you.” She tells him, and Tony relaxes slightly, bumps his shoulder against hers.

“Me too.” He whispers, and then they get to work.

---

“Can I ask a personal question?” Natasha asks him one day.

They’re on the jet to Wakanda, yet again. This time, now the attention is lifted, Tony’s been asked if he’ll talk to Clint. He’s actually dreading that conversation, because if Clint’s just going to be a total dick like he was on the Raft, Tony might actually kill him – but he’s hopeful, just a little bit, because T’Challa’s been making pledges for alterations he never would’ve six months ago. Someone – more than one someone – is helping him with this, and god does Tony hope.

“Miss Rushman, I’m not sure I’m that kind of girl.” Tony teases, looking up from his tablet to find her studying him, but she smiles in a tiny huff before she replies.

“What were you and Steve?” She asks, and Tony suddenly feels like all the breath has gone from his lungs. Pepper knows about the ring but has never asked, never mentioned it, never even told Rhodey- how could Natasha know? “Hey, Tony- breath for me Antoshka.” She murmurs, suddenly right there, rubbing circles on his back and crouched in front of him. She takes the tablet from his hands with careful fingers and Tony’s crying.

She doesn’t ask again, but Tony doesn’t think she needs to.

It’s after that that Tony stops carrying the phone, messages read. He doesn’t want her to have more proof of his heart than she already does.

---

“Tasha.” Clint’s voice breaks over her name when she leads the way into the meeting room T’Challa has graciously loaned them. Tony follows, swallowing, but Clint crashes into Natasha before he sees Tony. He buries his face in the junction of her neck, hugging her tightly, and Natasha seems as shocked as Tony at the display of affection, but she hugs him back, kisses the top of his head. Clint pulls away after a long moment – and the dark bags under his eyes are immediately obvious, his hair clearly in need of a wash, and there’s blood starting to stain through the bandages on his knuckles. Clint mouths Tony, rather than says it, before he’s grinning around the sadness ingrained in his face. “You came.” It’s barely more than a whisper, but it’s heartfelt in a way Tony had forgotten Clint could be – and never to him. They’d been friends – good friends – but they’d never had true heart-to-heart moments.

Clint steps forward, but it’s an aborted motion like he doesn’t know how he’ll be received, and in that moment, Tony can recognise Clint’s anger on the Raft and forgive it. “Get over here, Legolas.” Tony tells him with a roll of his eyes, but Clint’s hug is tight and solid, hands clutching at the back of Tony’s suit jacket.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispers, over and over again, and all Tony can tell him is that he knows, that he understands. Tony’s honestly not sure how to deal with such raw emotion from a man he’s always seen as stoic, even blank, in the face of feelings, but he clutches back, noting how he’s touch-starved and would rather drink in Clint being there for as long as Clint will let him.

He steps back eventually, hastily wiping his eyes, but he grins at Tony, then at Natasha, and seems much younger than he had when they’d walked in. “How’s Rhodey doing?” is the first thing he asks, and Tony knows then that it’s going to get better.

---

Rhodey’s a little less optimistic when Tony texts him, but he’s always been bitter on Tony’s behalf. A defensive asshole where Tony’s been too trusting, and really, his attitude to the entire thing proves Tony’s point. Things are getting better.

Tony still doesn’t tell him about the ring, though, and not about how it lives in his pocket, slipped on slipped off, slipped on slipped off…

---

Next time they get back to Wakanda – and the gap is only a month, thank goodness – it’s not for business, despite what Tony’s calendar says. T’Challa, Natasha, Clint, Tony, Sam, Vision and Wanda sit down for dinner.

Wanda had apologised, and Tony’s quiet for a good half of the meal as he puzzles that over.

“I was… angry.” She had tried to explain. “I thought you were treating me like a child, or, or a weapon to be locked away, and then when-“ she doesn’t say his name, but Tony hears it loud and clear and only just suppresses a flinch with it, “asked… I made mistakes. You were trying to protect me, and keep me at home, and I was too immature to see it.” She took a long, measured breath, but held up a hand when Tony went to interrupt her. “I made mistakes.” She repeats, “and I thought wrong, even after what I made you see. I was wrong, and I never apologised for that. I am sorry, for the choices you were pushed into making, for the situations I had a hand in putting you in, and for not listening when you asked us all to. I am sorry for hurting you, and I hope, given time, I can make that up you, Stark.”

“Tony.” He corrects her absent-mindedly, startling them both with it. “Call me Tony.” He says. It’s not quite an I accept your apology, but it’s almost a promise of the notion, and she sits between Vision and Sam, quiet but not ill at ease, and Tony thinks forgiveness isn’t so hard to achieve when Vision is smiling like that.

Sam hadn’t apologised.

No, Sam had immediately asked how Rhodey was, and if there was anything at all he could do to be of use, and that since he and the Others had begun waiting for the new Accords to go through he’d felt so at a loss, and then, then, he’d remembered to apologise. Tony had found it easier than he ever thought he might’ve to fall into conversation with Sam, about Rhodey but also Pepper, about the Accords but also Stark Industries, and then about BARF and veterans and Clint on Tony’s other side had dragged them into a video game debate.

Were it not for the gaping hole in Tony’s chest and the rainforest outside the window, Tony could almost be home.

---

Tony makes Natasha take a selfie with him. He saves it and sends it to Pepper and gets a tell my girlfriend I love her back that he hadn’t been expecting, but he grins and shows Natasha the message who smiles and retrieves her own phone from her pocket.  

He then shows Clint, and it’s worth the clip around the back of the head he gets from his not-really-assistant for the way Clint pretty much screeches what the FUCK, Tasha?!

---

Tony actually has a room in the Wakandan Palace, and most days he can’t get his head around that fact. It’s between Clint’s and an empty one, now, opposite Natasha’s. On his extended stays, it’s his, and T’Challa will loan him interesting books for the shelves on Tony’s rare down moments. Sam, Clint, Wanda… they’re all working towards coming back home. So’s Ant Man, who Tony’s not spoken to much and doesn’t really care to, but Tony’s not seen Steve. Not once. He’s been in Wakanda with some frequency for – fucking hell has it really been over a year? - and it’s like he’s not here.

He must be here though – the others almost mention him sometimes, almost ask questions, and Barnes is here even if he’s sleeping, so Steve… Steve must be here.

Tony fingers the ring in his pocket, and dropping it into the pocket of his sleep pants, decides that he’s going to go for a walk – he has free reign of this wing of the palace, after all, and sleep eludes him as it often does now-a-days.

In all his pondering of how little Steve there is here, Tony hadn’t considered the possibility that Steve might be someone he could run into. Tony opens his door, and there he is, dressed neatly like it’s early morning and not 2am when everyone should be asleep. Steve seems tired and drawn in a way that shouldn’t be possible with the serum, and he stares at Tony with wide blue eyes like a dear caught in headlights –  Tony imagines he looks much the same.

Part of Tony, a large part that Tony almost hates, wants to drag Steve down into a kiss, but the rest is angry, and Tony goes with that. Anger is easy, after everything, in a way that comes a little too close to Howard’s hair-trigger attitude that Tony can’t believe he’s thinking of now.

“What the fuck, Rogers?” Tony hisses, and Steve winces, stepping back away from the door. “How come you’re not begging my forgiveness like everybody else, huh?” he demands – it’s an unfair question, one not easily answered, but it’s been bugging him.

“I don’t deserve it.” Steve mutters, staring at his feet. “And it’s a shitty answer, I know, but I did some really shitty things.” Tony bites back an automatic language, and tries to shove his anger back to the forefront, beyond the ache and the need.

“Shitty doesn’t come close, Rogers.” Steve winces again, but Tony tells himself he doesn’t care. Shouldn’t care, but does. “My parents, Steve. My mother. This whole mess… even if you’d listened. Listened and trusted me and let me help you, this entire fucking mess…” Tony trails off, because he doesn’t need to say it. Tony made mistakes, he can recognise that. Steve wasn’t the only one who didn’t do enough talking – but Steve was the one with the secrets. “Look at me.” Tony growls out when Steve continues to stare at his feet. Tony wishes he got some sort of vindictive pleasure of how the tears burning in his own eyes are easily visible in Steve’s, but all it does is hurt.

“I just…” Steve starts, but shakes his head in a doesn’t matter notion that Tony wishes he didn’t recognise. “I am sorry. I thought… I thought that telling you was going to hurt you more, and reopen wounds you’d already worked to heal. I… honest to God, Tony, I never even thought of what you might do to Bucky. You’re better than that. Had I known how someone might use it…” he trails off, and while through the ache in his chest, the hurt at being reminded of the sheer magnitude of what Steve kept from him, he can appreciate what’s being said, he knows;

“That’s not what you were going to say.” Tony snaps, and Steve sighs, but it’s defeated, not exasperated like- shit, the last time Tony had said that they’d been in bed together, the morning before Steve left for Lagos. He never had found out what Steve was going to say, and-

“If… that morning. If I had asked,” Steve looks for all the world like he’d rather be anywhere but here, “would you have said yes?” he asked softly, and Tony knew what he was referring to. The ring, that Steve had no idea was anywhere but that desk, burned in his pocket.

“In a heartbeat.” Tony answered honestly, “but I don’t think it would’ve been the right choice.” And with that, he shuts the door on Steve, unable to take a second more of thinking on that rather large what-if.

He hears the choked off sob, but misses the way Steve’s face shatters. He can see it though, when he closes his eyes, and he wishes and wishes and wishes.

If things were different, he might’ve gotten some sleep.

Chapter Text

The new Accords go through with little protest. Each of the Avengers, both new and former, are invited to sign it, and a newly awoken, raw but safe James Barnes comes along too.

Steve’s at the back of the line of signers, in a simple yet well-fitting suit. He’d given his very public apology three days ago when they’d all landed back on American soil for the first time, but Tony had watched it on the TV, alone, fiddling with the ring on his finger.  Tony’s eyes hadn’t left him then, but now Tony barely spares him a glance.

He’d meant what he’d told Steve when he’d said it. It wouldn’t have been the right choice, not if they were going into the Accords with all those secrets between them... but given time. Oh, the past cannot be changed, but the future is still theirs for the taking. Maybe it can become the right choice.

Maybe he’ll even tell Steve as much, instead of just letting it become a day dream.

---

The Avengers move back into the compound, and Tony moves with them. He takes Friday, Dum-E, U and Butterfingers with him – so pretty much everything he owns – and is met by a bear-hug from a newly returned Thor when he explains that he’s not going anywhere. As per the Accords, he’s the liaison between the new and slowly expanding Avengers team and the World Council; Pepper is CEO, and Tony’s new duties to SI only take two days of his month, on paper. The reality is that with Shield gone and no longer adding to Tony’s once endless to-do list, he’ll have time to do more around the revolving upgrades to the Avengers tech and the meetings he’ll have to attend. The pressure’s off though, and it’s nice.

He’d forgotten how much he misses living with the Avengers.

He knew that he missed people, but suddenly the compound is full of life – Peter brings the few friends in on the secret with him when he visits, and there’s more super-powered individuals coming to light that train here some days. James – Tony still can’t quite call him Bucky, but it feels like a when and not an if – is getting better between psychologists, BARF, and the horrific yet entertaining friendship that is Bucky, Sam and Clint put together. They even drag Rhodey into their prank wars, and Tony has hours of footage saved by Friday for when he needs to laugh.

Wanda is teaching Vision to cook, and Natasha spends her time split between helping organise the Avengers business, coaxing Pepper away for a few days each month, or training. Steve… Steve mostly sits sketching in a corner in his down time. He’s timely with all paperwork, he trains hard and teaches well, and laughs when the others are enjoying themselves; but he keeps himself in the corner. Tony can’t help but feel that Steve is the visual representation of what Tony felt like when the Avengers first moved into the Tower – out on a limb, unsure of his footing, and kind of wishing he wasn’t there.

Tony also remembers how that changed, that first stolen moment.

He drops down next to Steve on the sofa, carefully picking a moment where Steve’s pencil is nowhere near the paper so he won’t mess anything up. Tony had had a witty comment on the tip of his tongue when he’d decided on this plan, but now, in the face of Steve’s shock and cautious little smile, all he can do is smile back and get comfy.

It’s not nearly been long enough, but it’s a start.

---

Their first first kiss had been nothing like Tony – like either of them – had thought it would be. It had been absent-minded, automatic, in a way that loving each other always was. As simple and easy and obvious as one’s need to breathe. A simple kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth as Tony was leaving for SI – running off too little sleep, no one else in the kitchen except for Steve, who’d just made them both breakfast to make sure Tony ate – and it was forgotten until later that evening.

Tony had done it again, their first second kiss, but that time Steve had noticed because Tony had frozen. It was no big deal for Steve to pull Tony back by the collar and kiss him chastely. Tony had blushed and stumbled backwards to the elevator, warmed by Steve’s radiant smile.

---

Their second first kiss is nothing like the first, but it’s the one Tony had thought he’d get back then.

There’d been a mission.

It wasn’t their first since the Accords had passed, but it was, perhaps the biggest.

Thor’s brother had decided to prove himself both undeniably not dead, and still the biggest fucking dickwad they knew. The entire active line-up had piled out to deal with him, Steve calling the shots and old patterns fallen into like slipping on a pair of well-worn boots.

Tony might’ve taken a hit meant for Bucky and gotten himself injured, sure, but Tony took hits for people all the time.

“You could’ve died Tony!” Steve snapped, and it’s so close to raising his voice, the closest they’ve come to yelling since, and Tony’s surprisingly un-terrified. Tony whirls once he’s stepped out of his armour – they’re in Tony’s space, Tony’s workspace where everything important to him seems to happen – ready to face Steve and defend himself, but he’s not given the chance.

Steve’s hands are at his waist, grip firm but not painful, and he’s kissing Tony. It’s not soft or chaste or gentle, it’s demanding, bordering on desperate. It’s insistent and the second Tony’s brain catches up and kisses Steve back, it’s all tongue and teeth and need. Tony pulls away with a groan when he has to breathe, hands locked behind Steve’s neck, and Steve brings their foreheads together. He’s watching Tony intently, panting himself and drinking Tony in.

“I can’t-“ he starts, his voice breaking, and Tony kisses him once, softly, before he continues, “I can’t lose you Tony. Not again, not when I can do something about it.” Steve tells him, voice quiet and insistent – determined in a way Steve is in everything he does, and always makes Tony fall a little further.

“You don’t have to.” Tony promises him. “Talk to me, trust me, let me return the favour and I promise you on every deity we’ve met and the scary amount I never want to meet-“ Steve laughs at that, making air ghost over Tony’s lips in a puff, “- and I promise you. Together.”

“Together.” Steve swallows, and it’s not the question Tony had thought it would be. He’s taking what Tony’s offering, without hesitation.

Feels rather nice, actually.

---

They go to Tony’s room, just to sleep. Curled up in one another, safe in a way Tony hasn’t felt since Ultron, almost, and it’s amazing. Steve is warm and gentle and sleepy, and as Tony traces the bags under his eyes with careful fingers, he can’t help but wonder the last time Steve slept. He sleeps now though, easily slipping away with his arms around Tony’s waist and his face buried in Tony’s hair. Tony curls into him a little more as his breathing evens out, presses his face against Steve’s neck, and falls himself.

---

There’s no more secrets. That was the promise they all made upon the formation of the new Avengers.

Tony never really considered what being in a relationship openly with Steve might mean, but he’s almost eager to try. Steve seems a little more apprehensive of the backlash he’s going to get from their friends, but he’s not backing down. They’re going to tell them all, together, the united front they should’ve always been.

They’re holding hands, and Tony is grinning like a fucking loon because of it.

(Steve’s not much better).

It goes down well for the most part – with cheering and several “it’s about fucking time guys!”, and a few calls for people to pay-up that Tony’s going to ignore. Rhodey walks straight up to them both – and Tony loves that Rhodey can do that now, with all the work he’s put in.

“Does he make you happy?” Rhodey asks, and Tony hopes his sincerity shows in his eyes because he can’t help but reply;

“Vigorously.” It’s paired with a ridiculous little eyebrow wiggle, but it works, and Rhodey’s face softens. His glare comes back as he turns to Steve – but there’s no spoken threat. One isn’t needed, after the dressing down Rhodey gave him when they first reformed, and that’s almost worse.

---

It takes a year, from there.

A year of the Avengers becoming a family again – Pepper and Natasha growing stronger as Natasha works through her past, Coulson returning from nowhere to Clint’s open arms, and Sam following an insult to Bucky with a blown kiss. It’s Vision learning to cook but still messing up because it means Wanda steps closer, it’s Peter asking any of them for help with his homework, and Bruce coming in from the cold.

It’s the advances in science made by so many brilliant minds under one roof when Thor brings Darcy and Jane into the fold. It’s movie nights that even Dum-E loves, because he gets to use the vacuum when they cover the floor in popcorn.

It’s lazy mornings, kisses as they pass each other in the corridors, “beloved” and “sweetheart”, “darlin’” and “honey”, date nights and little gifts. They’ve danced in their quarters to Sinatra at three in the morning, taken each other apart and put each other back together more times than Tony can count. They train together, go through paperwork and mission analysis together. Steve sketches in Tony’s workshop, and Tony works on his tablet when Steve’s back in his corner. There’s bad days, but they’re far outweighed by the good days and Tony realises.

It’d finally be the right choice.

---

The ring lives in Tony’s bedside drawer.

There had been one emotional evening in which Tony had admitted to carrying it around and wearing it, and tried to give it back. Steve had smiled through his sadness and guilt, and told Tony that it was his, his ring and his choice, as it had always been since Steve had bought it years ago, just after Sokovia. It’s sat in Tony’s drawer since, and for all intents and purposes, at the back of his mind.

Now, Steve’s sat up and flicking through the morning news on his tablet with his thumb, and Tony’s just leaning in to him, savouring the quiet moment of Steve’s arm hooked around his shoulders, reading the odd word here and there, but not really caring. It’s a moment that’s purely them – Steve’s flicking too fast to be reading a thing, his fingers tracing absent patterns on Tony’s shoulder, and Tony’s hypothesis is confirmed when the tablet lies flat against Steve’s legs as Steve presses a kiss into Tony’s hair.

It’s a moment so similar to the last time Steve had almost asked him, that Tony thinks it’s perfect. He leans back up to kiss Steve, slow and soft and languid – he could kiss Steve for hours, but right now that isn’t what he wants. He pulls back, laughing at Steve’s tiny whine and the cute little furrow of his brows as he does. He has to rummage in the drawer for a moment to find the box, and it’s not quite entirely hidden by his hand when he can sink back into Steve’s embrace. He takes Steve’s hand from the tablet and presses the box into his palm, curls Steve’s fingers around it purposefully.

“Ask me.” He says, and the shock, the sheer wonder on Steve’s face is beautiful. He looks like Tony’s just handed him the universe, with each and every little thing perfectly how he wants it.

“Tony?” His voice breaks, an are you sure that Tony would find insulting if it wasn’t only because Steve cares so much, because Tony is always sure.

“Ask me.” Tony repeats, grinning, and nearly tacks a teasing you know, if you still wanna, on the end, but it’s not needed. Steve flicks open the box one-handed, and rests it on Tony’s lap.

“Anthony Edward Stark-“ Tony groans at the use of his full name, but he’s smiling and Steve’s smiling and his voice is soft as he squeezes Tony’s shoulder, “will you do me the honour, of allowing me to be your husband?” he asks, and he’s smiling softly, radiantly, when Tony tears his gaze from the ring to look up at him. The happiness of this moment, the hope for their future sits warm in Tony’s chest, and despite everything, there’s a burning at the back of his eyes.

“Fuck yes.” Tony tells him, and pulls him down into a kiss.

Steve slips the ring onto the right finger of his left hand with gentle fingers, and the weight of it there feels amazing.

---

The wedding isn’t big, despite what everyone – Steve included – had thought Tony would want. While the Avengers now recognise Tony’s so much less of a socialite than the media portrays him, when it’s his choice, they all still think of him as a show-off; and marrying Captain America is a pretty big fucking achievement to flaunt.

The guest list is short, mostly superhero types and their families (if they’ve been brave enough to have them), with the odd reporter, and a lot of people who have been on the receiving end of Tony’s kindness over the years. The Avengers are divided, for the most part, into two sets of Groomspeople – and it says something for how far they’ve come when it takes Clint to make an ill-timed joke regarding the last time the split into two between Tony and Steve before Tony even thinks of it. It doesn’t ache like it did, and he doesn’t flinch. It’s a regret but not a problem, and the day is going to be spectacular. Rhodey, Pepper, Natasha and Clint are on Tony’s side, while Bucky, Sam, Thor and Sharon take Steve’s.

Steve’s in his dress uniform, and Tony in a deep blue suit – Pepper had suggested blue and bronze for colours, and Natasha (who’d called dibs on Wedding Planner and then dared them with a perfectly raised eyebrow to tell her no) had leapt at it. It was rustic and simple, and it was perfect, and Tony spent so much of the day before grinning that his face hurt even before Rhodey was escorting him up the aisle. That’d been Tony’s choice, and he hadn’t thought about how big it really was until a slightly tipsy Rhodey was crying on his shoulder about honour and brotherhood and sounding eerily like Thor that Tony had had trouble not laughing at him.

The weather is warm in the grounds where they hold it, and fireflies light the night alongside the lanterns. Tony and Steve get to dance under the stars, not hidden away on the rooftop of the tower but in front of all the people they love.

They made their vows as the sun set.

“I love you for many reasons.” Steve had begun, “for the way you look with a new idea, and how cute you are when you’re tired. For how you always know just what I need, and for the way you make my heart skip when you smile at me,” and he’d blushed at the aww-ing they were subjected to then, “and for how you gave me a home. Not just here, but with you, and that’s worth the universe to me. I- I’m not half as good at anything as when I’m doing it next to you. And that’s the truth. So this is my promise – that I will always strive to be next to you, and to be the man you deserve.”

“Fuck, Steve.” Tony had started, wiping his eyes amid laughter. “I- I’m an inventor. I am the Futurist, but despite all my endeavours and all I can imagine, I cannot imagine a future without you in it. Quite frankly, I don’t want to. You’re…” he’d had to swallow around the lump in his throat then, and gestured up at the darkening sky above them, “in all of this, and everything we see as Avengers, in each insane battle and what-the-fuck moment we ever had, it’s all only worth something to me if I get to tell you at the end of the day. I have seen the stars, my love, and you’re the brightest of all them.”

Coulson had announced them husband and husband, Mr and Mr Stark, in the moments following, but all Tony remembers is the grin on Steve’s face when he’d dipped Tony, laughing all the while, and sealed the whole thing with a kiss.