Work Text:
The last way Tony wanted to spend New Year’s Eve was alone.
In the three weeks since he’d return from the other dimension, he’d been fighting off nightmares and had struggled to leave the safety of the tower. He found himself jumpy and on edge in public. He wanted so much to reach out, to touch others and assure himself that they were real, he was real, they were here together and he was not still alone in that endless, timeless place. But the noise and bustle of crowds was too much for him right now, it was too overwhelming, too much to process after being in silence for so long.
When Clint, Natasha and Sam had invited him to spend the evening partying with them, he’d appreciated the offer but had to turn them down. Even Hulk and Thor had tried to persuade him to join them in an evening of merriment, but Tony didn’t want to think about how much noise and chaos that would involve. And Steve… there was a distance between the two of them that there hadn’t been before. Steve had been going it alone without Tony for months, so Tony wasn’t going to foist himself onto him now, no matter how needy he felt.
He hated to be alone, and he knew the team would stay with him if he asked. But he couldn’t impose that on them - it was so rare that everyone got a night off that it didn’t seem right to rope them into babysitting him just because he was having some adjustment difficulties.
God, but he could use a hug. In the other place, time had worked differently - but one thing that had been a constant was that he was alone. He longed for the feel of a friendly hand on his shoulder, the brush of a thumb over his knuckles, the way he would fall asleep with his head tucked against Steve’s big, warm chest during movie nights. He saw Steve every day and yet he missed him as if they were still stuck on opposite sides of an unbridgeable canyon.
He made a decision: he would distract himself with work. That usually worked as a coping mechanism. And thinking about Steve, and dimensions, and canyons, he knew just the project to work on.
Gathering up all the leftover parts of the 30th-century-tech-enhanced robot that Kang had used to teleport Peggy and his dad into the future took a while, but he corralled everything he needed into his lab and got to work on reverse-engineering the technology. If the device could send people forward in time, it shouldn’t be so hard to make it send people backward in time instead.
He was deep into dissecting a diode when familiar heavy footsteps drew his attention. Steve leaned against a workbench as if he belonged there, and for a second Tony let himself indulge in the fantasy of Steve being a permanent fixture down here.
But there was work to do, and he owed Steve a debt. A long silence stretched in between them. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out.
Steve tensed, almost imperceptibly. “What for?”
“When I needed you, you came and rescued me from that other dimension. You’ve always been there when I need you. But I haven’t given you the same. I haven’t been able to find a way for you to go back to the 40s to be with Peggy. If I’d spent more time with this tech, I’d have figured it out by now.”
Steve opened his mouth, surely about to deny it and absolve Tony of the blame. But Tony wouldn’t let him, wouldn’t let himself be forgiven for this. He barreled onward. “I know it must be hard, being without her on new year. After last year, when you came so close to having everything that you wanted. Everything you deserve.”
“Tony, that’s not-”
“I know how much you want to go home,” Tony said with finality, and it was killing him but he wouldn’t make Steve feel guilty about this. Just because he wasn’t sure if he could get by without Steve any more, it wasn’t fair to take the man away from the happiness he deserved.
Steve’s brow crinkled. “Tony, there will always be a piece of me that belongs to the past. Peggy was a part of my life, and I’m grateful to have had the time with her that I did. But while you were… while you were away, I had a lot of time to think. I realized that I have a new place where I belong now, one that you gave to me. I’ve found my home, and it’s here. With you.”
Tony stared, uncomprehending.
“Um. With the team, I mean.”
Tony’s head spun as he attempted to make sense of this new information. An unfamiliar emotion glowed deep in his chest, and he dimly recognized it as hope. “So if you’re not knocking around the tower alone on this day of celebration to mourn your lost home, then why aren’t you out partying somewhere?”
“I was thinking about what you said last New Year’s Eve. About how this is a time to spend with the people you love.” A blush spread across Steve’s cheeks and he ducked his head to hide it.
Tony blinked in confusion. “You mean… like… spending time with the team?”
Tony could have sworn he saw Steve roll his eyes for a second. But then he answered in soothing tones. “With the team. Right. Come on, forget the tech, there’s something I want you to see.”
Steve took Tony’s hand. His grip was warm and firm in Tony’s and Tony never wanted to let go. With a shy smile, Steve lead them to the elevator and out onto the tower’s helipad, the city lights spread beneath them and the wind whipping through their hair. Steve had set up a picnic blanket right on the edge of the helipad, and Tony noted with amusement the ever so neat row of ham sandwiches and glasses of ginger beer that he had laid out.
“I thought we could sit up here and watch the fireworks,” Steve said, gesturing vaguely and utterly failing to look casual.
Tony felt himself unwind, somehow set at ease by Steve’s awkwardness. “That sounds like the perfect way to ring in the new year. I bet we can see the ball drop in Times Square from here.”
Steve’s posture relaxed and he and Tony settled themselves onto the blanket. Steve told him about the time his ma was going to take him to Times Square for the ball drop when he was young, but he’d come down with pneumonia and had to stay home instead. He pointed out the places in the city where he’d spent time back in the 40s - those which had stayed the same, and those which had changed. He sounded contemplative, but not sad. Like he was sharing something precious with Tony, not yearning to be somewhere else.
Fireworks exploded in bright colors, painting splashes of light across the city before them.
At one point, Tony shivered in the cold night air. Without a word, Steve produced another blanket and wrapped it around him. When he put an arm around Tony’s shoulder, Tony found himself leaning in to soak up Steve’s body heat and his homey smell of soap and old leather. Steve was warm and solid against him, and for the first time in a long while, Tony felt truly alive.
They were so absorbed that they almost don’t notice when midnight approached.
“10!” The yelling of the crowd as they counted down to midnight across the city carried up to where Steve and Tony sat together, legs dangling over the edge of the tower.
“There is one flaw with our New Year’s Eve plan,” Steve said, looking thoughtful.
“9!”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“8!”
“I understand there’s a tradition-”
“7!”
“- you’re supposed to kiss someone at midnight-”
“6!”
“- or it’s bad luck for the year.”
“5!”
“Well, Steve, that is a pickle -”
“4!”
“- but I can think of one solution.”
“3!”
“Yeah?”
“2!”
“Yeah.”
“1!”
The city erupted in cheers as the clock struck midnight and fireworks exploded overhead, but Tony barely registered that as Steve took his face in his hands and tentatively kissed him.
Tony felt himself beaming against Steve’s lips, and he pulled back to admire Steve in wonder.
“There's nowhere I'd rather be than right here with you,” Steve said earnestly, caressing Tony's cheek with a thumb. “Happy new year, Tony.”
Tony buried his face into Steve’s neck to hide the tightness in his throat. Steve put his arms around Tony and held him close, warmth spreading between both of them.
Tony felt the glowing embers of hope stoked by Steve's words and his continued presence. Perhaps there was a future for them together after all. “Happy new year, Cap.”