Archive of Our Own

Steve wouldn’t say he’s shocked when they first get the alert from SHIELD, but he’s certainly surprised.

“Red Skull coming back from the dead wasn’t something I thought I’d be hearing today, but I guess this job keeps us on our toes, doesn’t it?”

Steve tosses a quick glance in Tony’s direction. He knows he’d be treated to the sight of Tony’s grin if the faceplate was up. “Technically, we’re dealing with a time-traveling Red Skull, but I see your point.”

Clint gives a loud snort from his seat at the back of the Quinjet. “Either way, we’ve got a revenge-crazed weirdo who probably has a very complicated skin-care routine on our hands. Let’s hope we can wrap this up quickly before he gets a chance to monologue at us; I’ve heard enough of those for the year.”

Bruce glances over at him. “I’m with you on that, but I feel like this is more about you being annoyed that he interrupted your second rewatch of Die Hard than it is about your dislike of monologues.”

Clint’s indignant protest - “hey, it’s a classic!” - is interrupted by the sound of the Quinjet landing at their coordinates.

“Less chatter, Avengers. Time to suit up.”

Steve’s fingers fly across the pad as he keys in his access code. The doors open immediately, and Steve is in the workshop before JARVIS even finishes stating his arrival. Tony turns down the sound, frowning slightly before his eyes settle on Steve.

“Hey Cap, what’s up?”

A small container of salve is open on the table next to him, and Steve can see that he’s interrupted Tony in the middle of dealing with a long cut on his forehead. His worry spikes along with his guilt, and he clears his throat a little before answering.

“Just wanted to check up on you, that fall you took was a pretty hard one.” His voice takes on an exasperated note as he continues, “and as usual, you chose to handle it yourself instead of going to medical.”

Tony smirks. “And you’re surprised?”

Steve huffs a laugh, glancing down for a moment as he moves in closer to Tony. “No, but I’m still gonna mention it every time.”

“Getting tired of it? I thought you knew what you signed up for with this team.” Months ago, those words would have been underlined with acid and tinged with bitterness, but now there’s a lightness in Tony’s eyes that Steve recognizes, one that never fails to fill him with warmth.

I knew what I was signing up for, but I still never would have expected you, he thinks to himself.

Tony had been a surprise from the start, bursting into Steve’s life with loud music and well-aimed jabs, just in time to save him from Loki, only to tear Steve down to his core with his words a mere few hours later. Everything special about you came out of the bottle is the stray thought that comes to Steve sometimes, when he looks at himself in the mirror and all he can see is the small, asthmatic kid who tried too hard and wanted someone to see him.

They all looked at him with hero worship, the first month out of the ice, and every time he had to swallow past the panic. Don’t look at me like that, he wanted to say. Like I’m Captain America and there’s nothing underneath.

Tony had pushed past all of that on the helicarrier, thrusting his flaws under a microscope, and that was almost a relief. When he had flown the missile into the wormhole, Steve remembers thinking, I was wrong, I’m sorry. Please make it back.

He’s jerked out of his thoughts by a slight tap on his shoulder. Steve looks up to meet Tony’s eyes, soft with barely guarded concern as he takes a step forward. This close, Steve gets a clear look at the angry purpling bruises on Tony’s cheekbone as well as the three cuts on his chin and fights down a pang of guilt in response. He came in to check on Tony like he always does after a fight, and now he’s lost in thought, leaving Tony to worry about him, when he’s the one who took a hit saving Steve from one of Red Skull’s minions.

“Sorry.” He takes the swab Tony had been dabbing at his cut with, gesturing for Tony to tilt his head back. “Let me help, you always get distracted and forget to put a bandage on, and this one’s pretty deep.”

Tony grins impishly at him, and Steve’s eyes dart involuntarily down to his lips. Now is so not the time to get distracted by thoughts of kissing Tony, even if he never seemed to be able to shake them lately. Now is the time to take care of him, and make sure he’s fine, not to imagine how Tony would react if he placed his thumb on the edge of his lip and moved in closer, if his eyes would close in anticipation of more, if Steve could make him breathless…

Focus, Rogers.

He lets his hand linger on Tony’s cheek before he removes the swab, turning to rummage in the first aid box for a bandage. “I know I said it earlier, but thanks for the save, Shellhead.”

He hears how soft his voice is, and shoves down a spike of panic, hoping that Tony doesn’t think anything of it. He’s been trying to work up the nerve to ask Tony out on a date for weeks now, but he’s chickened out every time, and he would definitely prefer making his feelings clear on his own time, instead of Tony figuring it out for himself.

There was the time he asked Tony to go with him to watch that new zombie movie, only to end up seated between Clint and Bruce while Tony spent most of the movie whispering about its many plot holes on the other side of Bruce. Or that time two weeks back when he asked Tony to go with him to the gala that Fury roped him into attending. Tony had automatically assumed he wanted back up for Avengers PR, and Steve had panicked at the last minute, too nervous to tell him otherwise. Maria had raised an eyebrow at him while Tony’s back was turned, knowing full well that he had mentioned bringing a plus one, but stopped short of commenting. At this point, he’s not sure if there’s anyone on the list of people he’s comfortable with who doesn’t know he has feelings for Tony.

Last week, he had asked Tony to go with him to check out the new exhibit at the Met. They had taken his bike, since Tony always talked about going for a spin, and Steve wanted to indulge him and make him happy, and he’s been thinking and dreaming about the feeling of Tony’s arms around his waist ever since, but Tony ended up having to rush off a little while after they arrived, with Pepper calling him about a very important shareholders meeting that “you can’t skip out on, Tony!” He’d been apologetic about it, promising Steve they would do this again soon, and although Steve read something in Tony’s face as he left that looked a lot like regret, the disappointment had stung. Afterwards he didn’t ask Tony if this could be their first date, since they hadn’t even gotten the chance to finish it.

“Well, I couldn’t have let you end up a Cap splatter all over the concrete, could I? Who else would make me sit through marathons of Golden Girls?”

Steve snorts. “Please, you love that show and you know it.”

“Of course I do, the ladies are fabulous. But my point stands. We need you around, Steve. Who else is going to yell at the TV during movie night, or accidentally leave paint stains on the furniture?” Tony’s eyes sparkle with glee as he bites his lip, clearly trying not to smile.

“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you? It was one time!”

“What made it hilarious was how long it took you to notice.” The laughter in Tony’s voice is soft and fond, and Steve gets a happy thrill from the sound. He wants to hear Tony laugh like that all the time.

There are all kinds of bandages in the first aid box - Clint bought the Avengers ones in bulk when he found them online, and now every medical kit in the Tower is stocked with them, but Steve knows which one he’s going to pick the second he sees it.

He smooths out the bandage he picked from the first aid carefully over Tony’s cut before handing him the mirror. “How’s my handiwork?”

Tony’s considering look blossoms into a full chuckle when he sees that Steve’s picked a red Cap bandage for him, complete with a tiny figure and the words “Cap to the rescue”. Steve bites back at a satisfied grin at his obvious delight, ducking his head in hopes that Tony won’t be able to realize how Steve really feels about him just from the look on his face. He’s pretty sure it’s the one Clint likes to call his “mooning” face whenever Tony’s out of earshot.

“You’re my hero.” Tony hops off the table, giving Steve a mock salute. After a moment, he steps closer, his face softening with seriousness. “You know it’s true, right? We need you, Steve, and not because you’re Captain America. I—”

Something twists in his expression, and for one wild second, Steve almost imagines that Tony’s going to say he needs Steve, that he might even think of Steve as more than a friend. But in a blink, it’s gone, leaving fondness and a sinking feeling in Steve’s chest in its place.

He wonders quietly if Tony’s turning over the same questions Steve has repeated to himself so many times - what if I ask and he says no? What if we don’t know how to be friends anymore if he turns me down? Do I want to risk this?

Steve pushes the thought away quickly to focus on Tony, who’s talking again. “You’re my friend - one of my best friends. And we wouldn’t work without you, the whole messy bunch of us.”

Steve raises a hand to Tony’s shoulder. “I know. Doesn’t mean I like it when you get hurt.”

“It happens - this won’t even scar. The important thing is, we caught Red Skull and we all got back in one piece.”

Steve lets out a sigh, nodding his head in acknowledgment. “Honestly, not much throws me these days, but that definitely did. I thought I left him behind, and of all things to come face to face with him again…” He drifts off, not sure how to put his feelings into words.

Some days, his life before the ice feels like a whole different life all together, a loss he will always carry with him, but one that gives him space to try and find his footing here. Other days, he wakes up and something feels out of place, and he spends the whole day shaking off the thought that he’s waiting to go back. Most of those nights he’s up till the early hours, sometimes punching things in the gym, but more often than not, seeking out company. Someone else is usually up, brewing something on the stove - one time, he and Bruce spent the whole night trying out recipes, and he remembers one night he sat and listened to Thor talk about his mother until his voice turned hoarse.

Red Skull’s return reminds him of both kinds of days.

Tony breaks the silence with a non-sequitur as if he senses how off-balance Steve is feeling and wants to distract him.

“Wanna head upstairs? Clint’s gonna make us finish Die Hard with him before Monopoly later - and you know he and Thor are going to cheat through the whole game.

Turning to Tony with a small smile, Steve walks with him to the door. “Please, Nat’s the one we have to watch out for-”

“Don’t bring up The Incident, Steve. We promised to never say another word about it.”

“My lips are sealed, Shellhead.”

“Tony, do you have a minute?”

“I’d say just one, but for you, I think I can spare a few.”

Tony looks up from where he’s performing a safety check on one of the gauntlets to see Steve standing in the doorway with a hesitant look, which morphs into a grin when DUM-E zooms past Tony to give Steve a high five.

Tony finds it absurdly adorable, but it’s probably better to keep that to himself. He’d most likely end up rambling and calling Steve adorable by accident. He is, but Tony needs to make sure Steve never finds out he thinks that.

Lowering his hand from the high five, Steve turns towards Tony. “I just wanted to see if you’re free for dinner tonight?” He's rubbing the back of his neck, which Tony knows is one of his tells. Steve probably has something to discuss with him during dinner, something about the team. Either way, he’s definitely not going turn down a chance to spend more time with Steve, even if it’s not the kind of alone time he wishes it could be.

“I was thinking about finishing up these repairs tonight, but it’s nothing urgent.”

“Carmine’s at 7, then?” A soft, happy smile blossoms on Steve’s face at Tony’s response and Tony feels his heart quicken at the sight. Quiet down, he tells it fiercely. Nothing’s gonna happen.

“That’s great, I’ve haven’t been there since we last went after the paintball tournament. Who else is tagging along?”

Something flickers in Steve’s expression that Tony almost reads as disappointment before it vanishes. “No, um, the others can’t make it. Nat has plans with Pepper for their anniversary, Clint’s taking Thor out for bowling - they’re gonna see if they can get Bruce to come along, I think.”

“Just us then.” Tony sends Steve a grin, turning back to the various gauntlet parts scattered around the table. “I’ll meet you out front at 7, we can even take the bike if you want.”

“Only the best for you, Tony.” Steve sounds completely sincere, and Tony pushes down on the twinge in his heart at the words, even as they flood him with soft warmth.

Steve’s tone then turns teasing. “You should probably get JARVIS to remind you beforehand so you don’t forget again.”

“You’re hilarious, Rogers.” Picking up the wrench, Tony makes a shoo-ing motion at a laughing Steve.

“I’ll get you flowers to make up for it.”

Sighing in frustration, Steve unknots his tie and sits down heavily on his bed, glancing at his watch to check on the time. He’s got one hour left until he’s meeting up with Tony, and he’s gone through five different outfits in the last ten minutes.

In the end, with five minutes to spare, Steve decides to be predictable and go for what Nat and Clint dubbed his “good date shirt”, a light blue dress shirt that apparently works pretty well for him. He wonders if it’s too obvious of a sign, but given how much trouble he’s had with trying to ask Tony out on a date directly, going the obvious route might be helpful, and he definitely wants to look good tonight.

As he steps onto the elevator that will take him directly to the garage, Steve goes through his checklist, a shiver of nervousness making its way up his spine. A reservation at Carmine’s at 7 for two, check. A request for Tony’s favorite dessert, espresso cannoli, check. His bike, running smoothly and ready to go, check. Tickets to the observatory for after dinner, so he can take Tony stargazing, check. Hopefully, he’ll finally find the courage to hold Tony’s hand in the restaurant, or even ask for a first kiss under the stars.

He had thought about bringing flowers, but that seemed too much for a first date. Steve definitely wants to surprise Tony with his favorite flowers one day though, if this goes well. He knows Tony can afford all of these things himself no problem, but Steve likes the idea of spoiling Tony a little, making him smile.

He’s finally got his chance with Tony, and he’s not going to mess it up.

They’ve just finished ordering when Tony brings it up, grinning at Steve, bright and relaxed. Steve’s so busy memorizing the moment and capturing the look on Tony’s face that he almost misses Tony’s words.

“So - someone hasn’t done laundry in a while… or is it a dry spell?”

Steve frowns at him, not making sense of what Tony’s asking. “What do you mean?”

Tony gestures at his outfit with an arch look. “You’re wearing your best date shirt - don’t pretend like you don’t have one, we’ve all seen it.”

Oh god. Steve feels a mortified flush spread across his face. He had wanted to be obvious, but instead, Tony’s thinking that he ran out of clean clothes, or that he hasn’t been on a date in so long that he would use this dinner as an opportunity to find someone willing.

Maybe he just needs to bite the bullet and tell him, if neon-flashing hints aren’t working. And if he says no - well, then he’ll take his bike and speed away before Tony can say anything about still being friends, and then he’ll go hide out somewhere for a while. Probably with lots of ice cream.

Sounds like a plan.

Steve moves his chair closer to the table, leaning forward. He makes an aborted movement to reach for Tony’s hand before freezing and snatching his own hand back - he flails around for a moment before picking up his fork.

Confusion slowly makes its way across Tony’s face as he watches the movement. “Steve? You okay? You seem a little-”

“Yeah, it’s fine. I just have something to tell you, that’s all. And I’ve - I’ve wanted to say this for a while, it’s just hard to find the words, and then I panic—” He takes a deep breath and sneaks a peek at Tony’s face, whose expression has gone from confused to alarmed.

“Panic? What - what’s wrong? You don’t have to hide anything from me, Steve. Is it about the team?”

“No - well, I mean yes, in a way, but not really, I just, I’ve had so many regrets and I don’t want this to be one of them.” He takes a deep breath. “The truth is -”

He’s interrupted by a loud crash and Steve spins around in his seat as the front window behind them shatters amid screams from the other diners.

A large burly man leads the group behind him, hoisting a blaster device on his shoulder. “There, get them.” The sneer that crosses his face is all teeth. “We need them alive for Skull.”

Behind him, Steve hears the familiar sound of whirring repulsors. There’s something reassuring in Tony’s lack of hesitation.

Steve takes down the first few men in his way with his fists in a matter of seconds, hits dodged before they can land. One of them drops to the ground with a satisfying crunch. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Tony aiming his gauntlets at the man with the blaster, who's thrown backward before Tony wrestles his gun away.

The fight is rough, with Skull’s men not holding back at playing dirty. He’s apparently amassed quite a following, meaning he’s been in the present longer than they’ve suspected. Steve loses track of Tony in the chaos for a moment, just enough for him to falter, but they manage to subdue them together in a short while, bodies littering the glass covered tiles.

Steve’s just gotten the last goon down before he turns to face Tony. He seems fine at first, except for a small gash at the base of his neck, eyes bright with adrenaline and breathing hard. Steve feels a swell of relief at the sight, and the tight knot of worry in his chest loosens.

Then Steve looks down and watches in horror as Tony’s hand goes to his stomach and comes away red with blood. He seems shocked himself, eyes widening at the sight.

“Tony—” Steve’s frantic shout breaks off as Tony’s knees give way. He crumples to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. Steve almost doesn’t manage to catch him, but he grabs ahold of Tony before he can hit the floor, propping him up.

“I didn’t - one of them had a knife, there was—”

Steve’s hands close over the source of the wound automatically, applying pressure. Tony’s face is turning wet and clammy, and his eyes are unfocused. Steve’s heartbeat thunders in his ears as his world shrinks down to Tony’s face.

“No, don’t talk - it’ll be fine -” One of Tony’s arms reaches up as he takes in a raspy breath, and Steve wishes he could hold his hand. Could take the pain away and take Tony’s place.

“Steve,” Tony’s head tips back onto Steve’s knees and he lets out out a sigh that is almost inaudible. His weight grows heavier in Steve’s lap, and a hot spike of panic lances through Steve as he leans down.

"Just stay awake, damn you - you're going to be fine!" His voice breaks at the end of the sentence. Tony’s eyes blink open again as if following the sound of his words before closing once more.

“Just hold on, Tony, please,” Steve pleads, his voice turning wet with unshed tears.

Please don’t leave me.

“Steve! Is he alright?” Steve gives a jerk at the sound of Pepper’s voice, shaking and full of alarm.

He looks up to see both Nat and Pepper hurrying towards him, both dressed in sleek evening gowns, high heels echoing across the tile. Pepper is clutching Natasha’s hand, as if for reassurance. Steve had reached for Tony’s hand in the restaurant before everything went to hell. Why hadn’t he held his hand? Why hadn’t he told Tony earlier, when he was safe and they had all the chances in the world?

Wordlessly, Steve pulls Pepper in for a hug, Nat reaching out to give his hand a quick squeeze in silent comfort. “He’s in surgery now. The doctors managed to stabilize him, but it was a deep wound -” he breaks off, stumbling for a moment, “he didn’t feel it at first, probably because of the adrenaline. I should have-”

I should have protected him.

He sinks down on to one of the hospital chairs, burying his head in his hands. All he had wanted was to start things right with Tony, and the night had ended with him stabbed and nearly unconscious. Maybe if he hadn’t lost sight of Tony for one moment, or if he’d been more careful in checking whether or not they had been followed, things would be different right now.

Maybe he and Tony would be enjoying a walk in the park, hands knocking against each other one time too many for coincidence, and Tony would drag Steve over to the ice cream truck like he always did, and order pistachio before finishing half of Steve’s cookies and cream. Maybe they would have ended the night with the kiss Steve has been waiting for so long. Or maybe Tony would have said no. Either way, it wouldn’t have ended with him being hurt and lying on a surgical table.

“It was Red Skull - his men, anyway. One of them said they needed to keep us alive for Skull. SHIELD took them into custody - I asked to ride with the medical team.”

“We should have guessed he wouldn’t have been taken so easily if there wasn’t another plan in place.” Natasha’s voice is low with agitation. “Did you call the others?”

“Yeah, once I got the first update. Thor and Bruce are monitoring Red Skull, Clint’s helping at SHIELD with the interrogations - he wanted to come and wait but we need to keep on top of the situation. We don’t know if he has other plans, and knowing Skull, that’s likely. I called Rhodey as well - he’s in Malibu for a mission but he’ll be getting in as soon as he can.”

“Tony’s tough, he’ll be fine. What hasn’t he survived?” Pepper places her hand on Steve’s shoulder. Her smile is warm if a little unsteady. “He’ll be up devising ways to get out of here early in no time.”

Steve makes a small sound of almost-laughter. “He’ll probably try to bribe Clint with jello again.” Sitting on his other side, Natasha rolls her eyes. “Trying assumes he won’t succeed.”

Heaving a quiet sigh, Steve looks down at his hands. He had cleaned the blood off in one of the bathrooms, not wanting to see Tony’s blood on his skin, and now his skin is almost scrubbed raw. But just because there’s no blood doesn’t mean it’s not his fault.

“This is on me - I should have been more vigilant about Red Skull. I should have known he was trying to trick us. He was trying to get to me, and-” Steve feels an ache of guilt, and pauses. “And he got to Tony instead.”

“Steve.” Natasha’s voice is soft but commanding. “Tony’s an Avenger. Red Skull’s main target may have been you, but there’s no way he wasn’t after Tony as well. He wanted to take out our leaders. We all know the dangers of this job, maybe Tony most of all. He’s hurt, but he’ll make it through.”

“That’s not - this is Red Skull we’re talking about, Nat. He’s been out for my blood for literal decades, and now... now Tony’s paid the price for it.”

“He was protecting a civilian, just like any of us would have in that situation." Natasha's demeanor is calm as she responds, and Steve draws strength from it.

Pepper makes a noise of assent. “You couldn’t have predicted it, Steve. The important thing is making sure Skull doesn’t get the chance to come after the rest of the team and making sure Tony gets better.”

“Right, because he’s an easygoing patient.” Natasha stands up and walks over to Pepper, brushing the hair out of her eyes with a soft look. “I’m gonna go get a coffee, you two need anything?”

“I’m alright - Steve?” When he shakes his head, Natasha heads over to the vending machine.

Steve turns to Pepper, who is watching him with something sad and knowing in her eyes. “You can’t shield Tony from everything, Steve. You can’t be responsible for that, and more importantly, you shouldn’t be.” She places her hand on top of his. “You love him, and that’s a good thing. Don’t let Red Skull turn a strength into a weakness.”

“I should have told him, I was about to when-”

Pepper smiles, and this time it is brighter. “You’ll get the chance to.”

“Miss me, soldier?” Tony’s words, raspy and weak but audible, pulls Steve firmly out of his half-awake state.

The sight of Tony, tired and worn but very clearly awake, looking at him with warmth, is one of the most beautiful things he’s ever seen.

“Tony!” He almost jumps out of his seat before Tony winces a little, and Steve remembers he’d been holding Tony’s hand before he almost dozed off. “Sorry, I-” he breaks off, looking down.

“How are you feeling? Is the pain medication working?”

“It feels like someone stabbed me, but less painful. Don’t be sorry, I could use some TLC right now.” Tony’s smile is teasing, but there’s something light in his voice, and when he turns to Steve, he looks almost expectant.

Hiding a smile and pushing down the urge to tell Tony just how much he’d like to give him some love and care, Steve reluctantly lets go of Tony’s hand. He’s just woken up and is probably still woozy from the anesthesia. But maybe tomorrow, he can tell him.

“Tony, you have no idea how good it is to hear your voice. For a moment I thought-”

“Please, like I would let one of Skull’s minions take me out. That would be shameful, Rogers. I should have paid closer attention, seen the knife coming.” Tony’s eyes are steadily fixed on Steve’s.

Rubbing his left hand on the back of his neck, Steve lets out a loud sigh. “Listen, Tony. I owe you an apology. I should have realized what Skull was planning, he was gunning for me and you got hurt, and I hate that-”

Tony cuts him off easily. “There’s no need, Cap. It was a fight, I got hurt, and I came out of it with all my limbs attached. No harm done.”

“Well, you really scared me, Tony. For a minute there I didn’t know if you’d be okay, especially when you passed out.”

“Yeah well, near-death experiences can be useful sometimes, you realize what’s most important.” Tony sends Steve another glance, as if waiting for him to reply. For a moment, Steve wonders if Tony’s realized something important, something about his feelings for Steve, but that’s just wishful thinking.

“Still, save us the worry and be more careful next time, alright?”

Tony stares at him for a moment more, and Steve sees his face fall even though he doesn’t understand why. “If you’re just going to lecture me again about getting into trouble, save it, Cap. I’ve heard that more times than I can count.” His thoughtful tone has vanished and his expression is shuttered, tight with something Steve can’t identify, even as it sends alarm bells ringing in his head.

Blinking, Steve opens his mouth, not sure what to say. Fighting with Tony is familiar by now, but he’s usually angry when Steve’s the one in jeopardy, and the abrupt change in Tony’s mood catches Steve off-guard. He hasn’t heard that tone of voice directed at him from Tony since they started figuring out how to be friends after the team moved into the Tower.

They had been magnets, repelling each other with equal force, until the first night he had knocked on Steve’s door looking for company, eyes full of things he wanted to forget but never could. “Wanna go flying, Cap?” The magnets had flipped, and Steve found himself drawn to Tony more and more every day until he had fallen for him almost without noticing.

Maybe Tony’s taking his frustration out on Steve over something else. Steve knows very well that Tony, like him, doesn’t take kindly to hospital stays. “Tony, I’m-”

“Sorry, Cap, I’m just - it’s been a long day, I’m just over it. Don’t mind me.” Tony’s fight seems to drain out of him with his next words and he seems almost sad. “Do you mind, uh, letting me get some rest?”

“Oh, okay. Sure, yeah, of course, Tony, anything you need.” Forcing a smile on to his face, Steve fights down a cold pang of disappointment. He had hoped Tony would want some company like he usually did, but his recovery was their priority right now. Quality time with Tony could wait. Taking one last look to reassure himself that Tony really was awake and healing, and not wounded and bleeding on a restaurant floor like he had been less than ten hours ago, Steve stands up from the lumpy armchair he had been sitting in.

“Do you need me to get the doctor before I go? He came in to check on you half an hour ago. The team came to see you when you got out of surgery, it’s just that visiting hours are technically over now.” He tosses Tony a small grin, hoping to wrangle a laugh out of him. “I abused my patriotic power to get them to let me stay with you until you woke up.”

All he gets in return is a weak smile, one that doesn’t reach Tony’s eyes. “No need for that, Steve. I’m fine, tell the gang I’ll be back before Thor wins another round of Mario-Kart.”

“Take care, Tony. Call if you need anything - I’ll see you tomorrow?” Steve hadn’t meant to say the last part as a question, but Tony only gives a short nod in return, and something seizes in his chest at the sight.

I’ll make him smile tomorrow, he promises himself, unable to help one more glance at Tony before leaving him to his rest.

Lying down on his bed, Steve reaches once again for his phone on the nightstand, hoping to see a message from Tony. He had texted Tony sweet dreams :) a few minutes after leaving the hospital, but it had been over an hour with no reply from him.

Most likely he had fallen asleep after Steve left and missed the text, but as Steve replays the harsh tone of Tony’s voice when he had brushed off Steve’s apology in his head, he wonders if it’s not something more, if Tony’s avoiding him.

He lets out a frustrated groan and sits up, turning his bedside lamp on. Clearly he’s not going to get much sleep tonight, though that should have been expected, and part of him is grateful that he won’t wake up replaying the look on Tony’s face as he almost bled out in Steve’s arms, even though that is sure to come back and haunt him another night. Opening the bottom drawer on his nightstand, Steve retrieves the half-finished knitted sweater from its hiding place. It's a better use of his time than staring at the ceiling and brooding about Tony.

He had gotten the idea a month ago, after Tony had sent him a dozen pictures of ugly Christmas sweaters (“oh god, they’re hideous.” “They’re supposed to be hideous, Steve!”) to help him pick the “best” one for SHIELD’s annual ugly Christmas sweater contest (“so whoever wears the ugliest sweater - wins?” “Got it in one, Rogers. Now tell me which one looks more ridiculous - the one with the snowman Santa, or the one with the gingerbread elf?”) Apparently, Clint had won first prize three years running, and now both Thor and Tony were determined to be this year’s victor.

So Steve decided to try and knit Tony an ugly Christmas sweater for his Christmas present. He had even sketched out an amazingly terrible Iron Man Reindeer design for it; he's almost halfway done, with little over a week and a half left till Christmas. His Ma had taken up knitting as a way to pass the time on cold nights when he kept both of them up with a hacking cough, and a way to stay warm without spending money they didn’t have on more clothes. Steve hadn’t learned to knit then, but he finds it soothing, even if all the different kinds and colors of yarn they had displayed in the craft store left him disoriented at first. He thinks of her sometimes, remembering the way she’d always have to brush her hair out of her eyes every so often before taking up the needles again. It’s a good memory, one that keeps him warm even when it leaves an ache in his chest.

If he works through the night, he’ll probably have the sweater done before Christmas. It’s clearly not a store-bought sweater, but Steve hopes Tony will appreciate the thought and care behind it even more, despite its slightly bedraggled appearance.

When he checks his messages one last time a few hours later, there’s still no reply.

Steve knocks on Tony’s hospital door, hoping his nervousness isn’t as apparent as it feels. He had texted Tony again this morning, asking if he needed anything for breakfast or from the workshop or his room - Steve wasn’t going to let him spend the whole day working of course, but Tony could never stay away from his tech for long. Tony’s reply had arrived almost an hour later, just before Steve left for the hospital, and even then, he’d kept it short - tablet and Mark X notes from JARVIS, thx- without his usual string of emojis. Something was definitely going on with Tony, and Steve needed to figure it out.

“Come in!” There’s a faint sound of rustling and shushing before Steve opens the door to see Sharon perched carefully on Tony’s bedside, a coffee in one hand.

“Steve! I was wondering when you’d get in.” Sharon greets Steve with a bright smile, pressing a perfunctory kiss to his cheek. “Tony texted me late last night, complaining about being stuck in the hospital again so I popped in for a visit - of course, he failed to mention he had been stabbed 24 hours ago.”

Steve freezes for a moment before dropping his backpack into the nearby armchair. His eyes dart up to catch Tony’s gaze, but Tony’s already looking away. There’s a tight, pinching sensation in his chest as he looks down for a moment, and he feels like someone just threw a glass of water in his face. So Tony had been avoiding him last night.

He squeezes out a strained chuckle. “You know Tony, up at all hours. Never stops even when he should rest.”

“Hey, I said I was “under the weather”. And I figured you would have heard through the SHIELD grapevine.”

“I had just finished giving Hill my report on a three-week deep undercover mission in Bangladesh when you texted, I haven’t had time to catch up on gossip, Stark.” She gives him a mock frown, voice full of exasperated affection.

“How about instead of coming over to fuss over me, you stop twiddling your fingers and finally ask Hill on a date? You’ve been mooning after her for ages.”

“You texted and demanded fresh bagels for breakfast, and now that you’ve got them, you’re kicking me out? Apparently, I’m only useful for food.”

Steve thinks of the still-warm blueberry bagels he had picked up from Tony’s favorite patisserie before coming over and fights down a hot swell of hurt and frustration. He knows how close Sharon and Tony are, and he would never begrudge Tony time with a friend he’s known for decades, certainly a lot longer than he’s known Steve. He pushes away the irrational jealousy that flares up with this thought. What Steve doesn’t understand is why Tony keeps avoiding him. Ignoring him, even, judging by the fact that he’s barely looked in Steve’s direction since he came in.

“Excuse me, Mr. Running-away-from-my-feelings-is-my-second-favorite-hobby, I don’t think you have room to criticize me here.”

A flash of stricken panic darts across Tony’s expression before it clears, and he puts his hands up in a clear gesture of defeat. “Alright, I concede, blame it on the painkillers, Agent 13.”

“That’s more like it.”

Steve clears his throat, interrupting them. Normally he’d enjoy chatting with Sharon while spending the day with Tony like he planned, sketching while Tony’s asleep, and trying to look after him for the rest of the time, but it doesn’t seem like Tony wants to let up on avoiding Steve. He’s certainly not going to push the issue right now, when Tony’s in need of rest and when Steve’s the reason why he ended up here in the first place.

“I just came by to drop off a few things, I’m heading to SHIELD to check on the progress they’ve made in extracting information out of Red Skull’s followers. Unzipping his backpack, he moves closer to Tony’s beside, placing the tablet carefully next to him. Tony picks it up silently before responding with a hurried “thanks, Cap.”

Steve also places the styrofoam takeout box containing the blueberry bagels on the low table next to the bed, pretending not to notice Tony’s wince.

Hoisting the backpack on to his shoulder once again, Steve quietly tells Tony, “Don’t spend all day on that, Shellhead,” before sending Sharon a brief smile as she studies him with a shrewd gaze.

He’s almost at the door when he remembers something else he had brought along. After getting a couple hours of shut-eye and going for a quick run, he had sketched out a quick doodle of Captain America waving to a flying Iron Man, hoping it would make Tony smile like he’d promised himself yesterday. Hoped it would let Tony know he’s thinking of him. For a moment, considers keeping it in his pocket, but he’d drawn it for Tony, and even if Tony doesn’t want him around right now, Steve doesn’t think he’d go so far as to reject Steve’s gift.

Walking back to Tony’s bedside, he takes the sketch out of his pocket, carefully smoothing out the edges before placing it on the table in front of Tony. “I, uh, sketched this at breakfast. Thought it might cheer you up. See you, Tony.”

Steve turns back almost before he’s finished his sentence, shutting the door behind him. He’s not sure he wants to know the expression on Tony’s face right now.

"What the hell was that?” Sharon whirls around the moment Steve closes the door behind, and Tony grimaces. Pausing, he decides that feigned ignorance is worth a try, at least.

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t give me that, Tony. You didn’t even try and talk to him about it – you were completely ignoring him until the very end of his visit. Did you see his face?”

Tony laughs humorlessly. “What did you want me to say, Sharon? ‘Hey Steve, I know I told I loved you after I got stabbed and you haven’t mentioned it since I woke up, but is there any chance you might feel the same way?” He forces down the pang of guilt when he thinks of Steve’s hurt expression, which only grows when he spots Steve’s sketch for him on the nearby table.

Following his gaze, Sharon picks it up, turning to Tony. “He draws cute sketches of Cap and Iron Man just to cheer you up and you think he doesn’t care?”

“Of course he cares, he’s Steve. That doesn’t mean he has feelings for me, he’s just being a good friend.”

Settling next to Tony with a sigh, Sharon shakes her head. “For all you know, maybe he thinks you don’t remember and that’s why he hasn’t said anything.”

“Don’t, Sharon. I know you’re trying to make me feel better about this and I love you for trying, but that’s not possible this time.” He tries for a smile, but it drops off his face after a moment, his heart sinking to his feet. Steve doesn’t feel the same way – Tony would be lying if he said he hadn’t expected that, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. And of course he’d want to let Tony down easy by pretending it hadn’t happened.

Tony would just have to try and do the same.

Any hope Steve had that Tony’s mysterious avoiding act would stop once he’s discharged from the hospital and back in the Tower dies on the first day of Tony’s return. The day before, Bruce had mentioned offhandedly that Tony had asked for a pick-up from the hospital, and Steve had almost broken a plate. He had stayed behind while Nat and Bruce headed to the hospital, ignoring their confused looks and Nat’s pointed questions when he declined to come along. Tony’s lack of an invitation was clearly the closest he would come to asking Steve to stay behind, when he had never needed one before.

Still, he had headed down to workshop at the end of the day, hoping that maybe his suspicions are wrong, that Tony would look up at his entrance with the same bright smile as always, letting his space become Steve’s as well, letting him have the couch to observe and draw in peace whenever he wanted.

Those hopes are dashed when Tony greets his arrival with a feigned smile and a hurried gaze, responding to Steve’s questions with short, stilted responses for a few minutes before turning back to the organized chaos of the workshop. It ends with Tony saying he’s “kinda busy in here, Cap, you know JARVIS never sleeps.” Reading this as a clear dismissal, Steve goes back upstairs to watch The Lego Movie with Nat and Thor. He doesn’t stop thinking of Tony for the whole night.

Unsurprisingly but frustratingly, Tony’s withdrawn mood and obvious avoidance seem to extend only to Steve; he seems as happy as ever to spend hours going over new arrow designs with Clint, or to spend a Saturday watching screwball comedies with Nat and Pepper, though he mostly a no-show at group meals.

When Rhodey pops in for a quick visit the next weekend, Steve plans his strategy accordingly, but to no avail.

(“Rhodey, uh, do you happen to know why Tony’s been avoiding me lately? He’s been distant, and I don’t want to push, but -”

“Steve, you know Tony’s a complicated man. He’ll come around, he just has to deal with a few things first.”

“.... in other words, you do know, but you’re sworn to secrecy?”

“Always knew you were a smart man, Cap. Word of advice, though - pushing might not be a terrible idea. Maybe a nudge or two, at least.”

“ Well, for that kind of advice, I think I owe you a thank you. You got lunch plans?”

“Burgers, your treat.”

“Deal. And you can tell me more about this new guy Nat says you’ve been seeing. Former pararescue, right? Sam Wilson?”

“You know, they never said the Avengers specialized in gossip.”)

At one point, he even gets desperate enough to ask JARVIS, an endeavor which ends with embarrassed silence and Steve fleeing the Tower for the day.

“You know, these actually turned out pretty good.” Steve muses as Clint makes a muffled sound of agreement. He bites into yet another gingerbread cookies, trailing crumbs all over the counter in his haste for more.

“I still think the snowmen look a little lopsided, but we did pretty good for a first try.” Bruce says, sitting down next to him. “And we might have used too much frosting for those.”

Clint directs a mock look of outrage in Bruce’s direction, and Steve hides a laugh behind one hand. “Nuh sudge ding as doo much fwosting.” He proclaims, nearly unintelligible beneath a large chunk of cookie.

He swallows and continues. “We are the frosting overlords.”

Bruce snorts, casting a fond look in his direction. “Clearly, considering the frosting beard you’ve got going on there.”

“Hey, it’s a Santa beard.”

“Well, come on Santa, we promised Nat and Thor we’d save a few batches for them, they drew the short straw in having to deal with MODOK.”

“You’d think villains would give us all a break now that it’s almost Christmas.” Steve comments wryly, helping Bruce move the cookies from the baking tray into plastic containers for cooling.

“Speaking of a break, I haven’t seen Tony today – JARVIS, has Tony eaten yet today? Please let him know that we’ve just finished baking and he’s welcome to join us.”

“Right away, Dr. Banner.” There’s a long pause before JARVIS informs them that Sir regrets to decline the offer, something like resignation in his voice.

Steve bits back a heavy sigh, his lighter mood inflating with a sudden jerk. Bruce glances over at him, sympathy bright in his eyes. “I take it he’s still avoiding you.”

“Yesterday I ran into him coming out of the communal gym – he backtracked like someone was chasing him and got out of there before I could even say hi.”

“At least he hasn’t left the country?”

Steve flicks Clint an unimpressed look and Bruce groans. “You’re not helping.”

“What I don’t understand is why you’re letting him get away with it. Just go talk to him, he’ll crack eventually, and you’ll go back to being annoyingly in-sync with each other.

Steve reaches for a snowman cookie, avoiding Clint’s question. He’d much rather eat his feelings than talk about them, thank you very much.

“It’s not like we’re disagreeing about mission tactics, or one of us deviating from a plan. He got hurt because I wasn’t careful enough. I should have kept him safe, and I didn’t. What is there left to say about that?” Steve takes another morose bite of his cookie, looking away from his friends.

“Come on, Cap, this is Tony we’re talking about. When has he ever gotten mad at one of us about him getting hurt? It’s always the other way around.”

“And which one of us hasn’t had an old nemesis resurface from the past trying to seek revenge? That’s what you have a team for, so you don’t have to face it alone.” Bruce’s tone is soft with understanding, and something starts to loosen in Steve’s chest at his words. “We’ve all done it alone, and I don’t think you can argue that it’s better this way.”

Deep down, Steve knows Bruce is right. But that hasn’t stopped him from jerking awake every night this week, breathless and swamped with dread, nightmares fresh in his mind. Nightmares where they’re too late to save him, where he dies in Steve’s arms, or where he takes a blow meant for Steve and the last thing Tony sees is Steve crying over him. It doesn’t help the hot flash of guilt whenever he thinks of Tony lying still and quiet in the hospital bed as Steve waited for him to wake up, trapped in the uncertainty of not knowing when he would.

And if Tony isn’t him avoiding out of blame or disappointment about Red Skull, then that leaves the question of why Tony’s been so distant. He’s combed through their interactions over the last few weeks for days, and nothing’s caught his attention, which means it’s either something to do with what happened that night before the ambush or it's something Tony’s hiding from him. Steve almost thinks he doesn’t want to know - what if it isn't fixable? What if Tony figured out how he feels, and this is his way of letting Steve know he isn’t interested?

“I just – I don’t want to ask him why and then find out that the damage has been done, and, and that there’s no way to solve it. He’s never been like this before.” Steve speaks haltingly, trying to ignore the visible pain in his voice. He knows his team is more than clear on what he feels for Tony, but admitting his fear out loud still isn’t easy.

“Running away isn’t going to tell you anything either. You deserve to know why, and I think it’s high time you’re honest with Tony as well. It’s not talking to each other that’s created this mess, after all.” Bruce counters.

“Yeah, and if you tell him and he breaks your heart, there’s still some of Pepper’s chocolate fudge ice cream in the freezer and we can get DUM-E to tepee the workshop. Thor can get the mead.” Bruce interrupts Clint’s suggestion with a thwack to the back of his head.

“Just kidding, geez! The man on the moon can probably see Tony’s crush on Steve from space.” Steve blushes at this, telling his traitorous heart not to listen to Clint’s rambling even as a ray of hope flickers to life amid his worry.

Bruce hands Steve another cookie and lets Clint take two more before closing the last plastic container. “What he means is, it’ll be fine. Tony’s a mechanic, Steve – whatever it is, you can fix it together.”

The next day, Steve spends half an hour pacing up and down his room before heading down to Tony’s workshop. He doesn’t wear his date shirt this time – the dry cleaners got rid of the bloodstains, but Steve can’t look at it without remembering, and now it sits at the very back of his closet. He opts for comfortable instead with a navy sweater and jeans, and also makes sure to check with JARVIS that Tony’s in the workshop with no pressing appointments today.

He lets his gaze linger on Tony’s profile through the half-opaque glass door as he inputs in his access code, drinking him in even as his heart skips nervously in his chest.

When Tony looks up, it’s clear that he’s been startled by Steve’s entrance, but it’s only there for an instant before he files it away behind studied nonchalance. Steve feels a spark of irritation at the sight – he hates it when Tony feels the need to mask himself around the team, especially Steve, but pushes it aside; anger won’t help with what he needs to say right now.

“Cap, didn’t expect to see you down here today. What do you need?” Tony shoots a grin in his direction that’s half false bravado and half wariness, and that’s the moment Steve’s self-control breaks.

“Probably because you’ve been spending the past week doing everything in your power to avoid me short of kicking me out or flying away, and ignoring me when you can’t hide? I’ve given you your space, but goddamnit Tony, what I need from you is some kind of explanation – this isn’t fair to me, and it isn’t going to solve whatever’s going on with you.”

With the last part of the sentence, Steve’s tone turns from angry to pleading, and he clears his throat to prevent his voice from breaking.

“I know you said I didn’t need to apologize for Red Skull at the hospital, but if it’s because you think I should have been more ready, and if you’re angry about that, I need you to tell me-”

“What, no, Steve-” Tony’s distant manner is entirely gone now, and his stance is clearly agitated, the drumming of his fingers on his thigh giving away his nervousness. There’s something weary in his expression when he finally looks at Steve, and even though Steve is glad his masks are gone, his heart gives a pang at the sight. He wishes he could cross the distance between them and pull Tony in for a hug, tell him it’s going to be okay, that they’ll figure it out, whatever it is, but he knows that’s not a good idea.

“Then what is it? Just tell me, Tony. Because I miss you. I miss you sitting next to me on movie night and laughing when I get too worked up. I miss coming down here and spending time with you and DUM-E, and it’s great when we talk, but we don’t always have to, it’s just nice to know that when I look up, you’ll be there. I miss taking you a plate when you forget about eating because you’re lost in work again - and for someone who loves food as much you do that happens way too much – I miss sparring with you, I miss getting ridiculous texts at odd hours… I just miss you, Tony.”

Steve sighs and shifts his gaze downwards; he doesn’t want to see whatever expression is on Tony’s face right now. He knows he’s said too much, but since his heart has already been upturned and tossed on his sleeve at this point, he might as well go for it.

“I know it’s only been a week, and maybe you think I’m being overdramatic, but the truth is, I need you. You’re the one who gave me a home here, and it doesn’t work without you.” Tony’s mouth falls open at Steve’s admission, colour rising in his cheeks.

“Steve -“ Tony breaks off, grimacing. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not been easy for you, and it wasn’t fair for me to just cut myself off from you like that.”

“I was just trying to figure out how to be your friend without my feelings getting in the way, and I ended up hurting you more.” His tone turns bitter, self-deprecation cutting through every word.

“Your feelings – Tony, what are you saying?” Tony makes a sound of frustration, moving closer to Steve in response.

“You don’t have to pretend you don’t know to spare me anymore, Steve, we both know what I said that night. You didn’t mention when I woke up, and I’d hoped—“

“Tony, we’ve been going past each other in circles for days, so I just need you to be very clear with me right now. What did you say that night?” Steve takes another step closer to Tony, watching him breathlessly. Close enough to touch, but not yet. But if Tony says what Steve’s hoping he’ll say, then soon.

In a voice that clearly communicates how much he wants to be anywhere but here, Tony replies quietly. “I said I love you.” His shoulders drop as if they’ve been relieved of a heavy burden. “I do, Steve. And that’s why I’ve been avoiding you so much – it hasn’t been easy for me either, it hurts to be around you right now knowing you don’t feel the same way. But I’m sorry I hurt you, and I promise I’ll try harder.”

Steve feels breathless for a moment with everything that he’s feeling, filled with head to toe with how much he loves Tony. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s felt this happy. Tony loves me. They’re going to be more than fine, they’re going to be spectacular.

Steve leans forward and takes Tony’s left hand in his, clenched in a fist, unwrapping his fingers slowly until he’s holding Tony’s hand, like he’s always wanted. “It doesn’t have to hurt, Tony. When I asked you to dinner that night, I wanted it to be a date. I was going to ask if there was a chance you could see me as more than a friend..”

Hearing his words, a small, hesitant smile begins to bloom its way across Tony’s face. It’s Steve’s new favorite Tony smile.

“I’ve been in love with you for months, I just didn’t want to move too fast and scare you off at the start.”

He takes Tony’s hand in his, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Tony looks lovestruck, and the very thought makes Steve giddy. He knows he must be mirroring Tony’s expression right now.

Then Steve remembers the source of his confusion. “But Tony, the reason why I didn’t say anything in the hospital that night was that you never said anything. You said my name, but you were nearly unconscious by then—“ Steve pulls Tony close at the memory, burying his face in Tony’s reassuring himself with the steady weight of Tony’s body as he returned the embrace. He’s alive, he’s okay.

When he pulls back with a soft smile, Tony is staring at him in embarrassment as he processes Steve’s words. “I didn’t? But I... when I woke up I remembered saying it so clearly, I thought - fuck!”

“It’s okay, sweetheart, it wasn’t your fault.” The endearment is sweet on Steve’s tongue, and he feels a thrill of happiness at being able to say it.

Tony’s frustration breaks into disbelieving happiness for a moment before he continues. “It’s not, I hurt you and I was angry even if it wasn’t your fault, and it wasn’t even real.”

“Well, you still beat me at saying it, if it makes you feel better.” Steve leans down for a kiss as Tony grins bashfully at him. He tastes like coffee and a hint of machine oil; he tastes like home, and Steve decides then and there that he’s going to keep kissing Tony every day for the rest of their lives.

“And now,” he says a few minutes later, breathing fast, “now, it’s my turn. I love you, Tony.” He leans down for another kiss and smiles. “Thank you for being my home.”

Tony beams up at him. “Just remember who said it first.”