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Tony didn’t exactly remember how he’d found the place but out of the 14000605 coffee shops he could have chosen from in downtown Manhattan, the Agamacchiato was definitely proving to be a good option. The best, actually. And no, it wasn’t because of its barista - and owner, he’d learned not long ago. And no again, he wasn’t eavesdropping.
The first time he’d pushed the large wooden door he’d immediately been surrounded by the sweet sweet smell of coffee, elixir of the Gods, but he’d certainly not been fascinated by anyone. At all. That’s not why he came back the next day, either. That’s not why he was still coming here, two months later, or why he’d taken to bringing his computer and drawing pad with him to work there the entire day, three times a week.
The place was nice. Stark Industries offices suffocated him. No one knew him here, all they knew was his order and first name. Perfect.
When did he start being attracted to salt and pepper hair, again? He didn’t know.
He tried but he was never very good at lying, even less to himself. He did come for the barista, Stephen. What a soft name, he bet it could roll on his tongue better than coffee did.
When did he stop putting his head in the sand about loving everything he could see and learn about this mysterious man who talked in such a low and careful way that gave Tony chills? Not very long, he’d admit.
He was currently sitting in his favorite booth - he’d tried most of them by now - the one in the corner right by the counter that let him sit in a way that gave him an equal view of the street through the window on his right and of the absolute delight that Stephen was.
That’s also how he noticed the hearing aid he wore on the right side only and Tony wondered why that was. He didn’t ask. He would never. It was none of his business.
It intrigued him still.
From the moment he saw the device Tony started noticing other things as well. Like the way the man always seemed to make a conscious effort not to talk too much with his hands, keeping them behind his back or clasped in front of him most of the time. Like the way he was constantly brushing a rebellious strand of jet-black hair behind that same adorned ear.
The color of the thing was cool, too - a deep green that complimented his eyes and oh how Tony did love those eyes. They changed colors according to the light and day and it was always a wonder trying to guess what shade of blue or green or even gray they would be on that precise day.
He knew the man had seen him staring a tad too many times to not know Tony was interested but he didn’t engage so Tony didn’t either. He tried to stop so he’d not think he was some kind of creep either - because, well, that would be unfortunate, wouldn’t it?
Key word of that last thought was evidently tried . He was failing at it, pathetically so.
Rhodey wouldn’t stop teasing him since he’d mentioned the man and honestly, Tony was starting to see why. The extent to which he was smitten was getting ridiculous. They’d barely exchanged a few words other than the expected pleasantries of retail. Looks though, there’d been a tremendous amount of them.
Tony massaged his temples in a rather desperate attempt to concentrate but today was harder for some reason. He kept zoning out on his schematics and when he looked up - or rather, to the side, no mystery as to which one that was - he ended up blushing like a damn school girl.
The thing was, after having dutifully avoided each other’s gazes for weeks on end Tony didn’t expect to find the man looking right at him every time he looked up from his work. Either all he did was watch him or he knew the precise moments Tony would indeed shoot him a glance. He didn’t know which one he liked best. He didn’t know if he liked either. This was getting complicated.
With a sigh Tony turned off his tablet and switched it for his computer. Maybe numbers were the key - if he could lose himself in calculus and equation sheets maybe he’d make it through this day without setting himself up for a heart attack.
It worked. For all of twenty minutes - which, granted, was more than he was able to say for the first two hours of his stay in the shop so far, but still. It was embarrassing.
He thought taking a sip of his americano would help. Have some coffee. Get back to business. A two-step plan couldn’t be this hard to implement. Except the moment he chose to drink and incidentally look at his-- at the barista happened to be the same moment the man was busy rearranging his cupboards.
That is, Stephen was literally bent over his work surface to reach out to the farthest products. The view made Tony splutter. Fuck . The situation was getting out of hand, he couldn’t possibly get this flustered by something so simple.
Scratch that. There was nothing simple about the pure gorgeousness of that ass. Nothing simple about the fact that Tony was too into it that he unashamedly tilted his head to the side like that would help him see better somehow. Nothing simple about the fact that he was so into it that the moment the man straightened up and whipped around didn’t register in Tony’s brain and he stayed stuck in the same position, looking directly at what was now a different but nonetheless interesting part of that same, work of art of a man.
Well. The way gorgeous-as-fuck-barista raised an eyebrow at him did clue Tony in about how obvious he’d been in a rather simple way this time. Hm. Tony cleared his throat. He was blushing now, for sure. How could he not?
He tried to look away again, he’d done it countless times before so it shouldn’t be this hard. Except it was, because for maybe the first time since that first moment he came into the coffee shop what seemed like an eternity ago, Tony found himself being stared at as well. And the amusement he could see in the man’s eyes - definitely gray today - coupled with that insanely attractive way he had of crossing his arms over his chest, all of that, was too mesmerizing to let go of.
It’s only then that Tony realized the shop was empty. Apart from the both of them there was no one else and he didn’t know if that thought emboldened or unnerved him. Probably a bit of both.
He took a deep breath. Here goes nothing. He crossed his arms as well, raised an eyebrow as well - two could play at that game.
He bit at his bottom lip when a thought occurred to him.
“Any chance you did that on purpose?” He couldn’t be sure but now that he thought about it in this new light of wonder and without the awe and god-honest impurity that the man seemed to bring out of him at any given time, other moments came to mind. Moments where the otherwise very professional barista had accidentally dropped something just a foot away from Tony’s table, where he’d handed him his cup with a tad more physical contact than he had to, where he’d smirked when Tony felt his cheeks warm up and looked away.
“What do you think?” the man leaned against the counter in the picture of relaxation - damn, he was sexy.
“I think you answering my question with a question already makes my case more plausible.” Tony smiled cheekily and the other man chuckled. That was new, and welcome. Tony instantly thought he’d need more of that laugh. To go, preferably.
“Are you gonna do something about it, Tony?” he asked, the way he insisted on Tony’s name giving him goosebumps.
“Well, I’d offer to buy you coffee, Stephen , but that would be a bit redundant, don’t you think? So, maybe we can do dinner instead?” Tony gave him a lopsided smile, his flirty self coming back to him after weeks of getting stuck on an uncharacteristic break of shyness. It felt good. The way it made the other man’s cheeks flush a gentle pink felt even better.
“Yeah, we can do that. Dinner.” the man nodded and Tony studied his face for a long time after that, lost in the promise of his eyes and lips alike, of the hints of snark and wit that were oh so charming to him. They stared at each other for an undetermined amount of time, drinking in everything they could learn from micro-expressions and minute motions of their smiling lips.
Then a customer entered the shop and the spell was broken but only for a while, Tony reminded himself. Till that dinner he would make sure was the best date the man had ever gone on. Till that dinner where they would be able to be just the two of them, without pretence or obligations, and he couldn’t wait.