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“Okay,” said Tony, plucking his beard between finger and thumb, “I accept that you’re me.”
“Well that’s a relief,” other-Tony said.
“And I am prepared to recognise that a me from another universe could develop a form of trans-dimensional travel before I have myself.”
The other Tony smirked lopsidedly. “How gracious,” he replied.
“But,” continued Tony, shaking a finger at his duplicate, “I refuse to believe that any version of me is in a relationship with…” He turned his finger on other-Tony’s companion, a exact mirror of the man sat to Tony’s left: one Steven Grant Rogers. “Him,” he concluded.
Other-Steve turned a fond look on other-Tony. “Were we ever this much in denial?” he asked.
“Oh, we were up to our asses in crocodiles,” other-Tony replied. He scooped other-Steve’s hand up with his own and held it tight.
Steve cleared his throat. “I’m… a little surprised myself,” he admitted.
“Thank you!” Tony said.
“Although it’s not like we’ve ever discussed our…”
“Feelings?” other-Tony suggested in a sing-song voice.
“Admiration?” other-Steve added in.
“Sexualities,” Steve said, rushing the word as his cheeks turned pink.
“That’s because we don’t need to discuss it. I’m bisexual, that’s a matter of public record. And you’re straight because…”
“Because of Peggy?” said Steve, a scornful edge in his tone.
“Because you’re you!” Tony answered, flinging his hands up in the air. “A big ol’ slice of all-American apple pie.”
“And you’re suggesting that only straight people like dessert?”
Tony blinked at Steve. “Wha… huh… of course I’m not saying only straight people like dessert. Dessert is great. I love dessert.”
“So is it just me, then?” Steve said with a sniff. “I’m not good enough for the great Tony Stark?”
Tony gestured grandly at the couple sat facing them. “Oh my god,” he drawled, “of course you are. Use your eyes, we look great together.” He caught himself, pursing his lips. “They. They look great together.”
Other-Steve leaned forward, into his counterpart’s space. “Ask him out for dinner,” he said in a false sotto. “He loves Italian.”
Other-Tony mirrored his partner’s stance, drawing forward to whisper loudly to Tony. “Say yes. He puts out on the first date.”
Other-Steve snorted and backhanded other-Tony playfully. “Only for you,” he said. They began to laugh.
Tony stared at them for a moment before turning to Steve. “I, uh…” He floundered. “Gay?” he asked incredulously. “You? Really?”
“I’m not…” Steve’s eyes were everywhere but Tony’s face. “I mean, I, uh… like guys, but…”
“But… me?” Tony said.
“We’re really hot,” other-Tony reminded.
A small smile tugged Steve’s lips and he finally managed to settle his gaze of Tony’s. “Dinner?” he said is a small voice. “I hear there’s a great Italian place a couple of blocks away.”
“Okay,” Tony replied, wishing his voice didn’t sound quite so strangled.
“Okay,” Steve agreed in turn.
“Aww,” said other-Tony and other-Steve in unison.
Tony twisted in his seat to face them. “How many times have you two done this?” he asked.
Other-Tony gave the question only brief consideration. “Sixty-two,” he said. “Sixty-three counting you.”
Other-Steve smiled. “Best honeymoon ever,” he replied.