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“Come on, Tony, this is ridiculous.”
Ignoring Steve, Tony determinedly kept climbing the more-or-less-intact stairs down to the tiny beach, waterproof torch firmly clutched in his right hand.
“I had a plan.”
Steve sighed, putting his foot on the first step.
“It was almost midnight when we left.”
“But only almost! We can make it if we hurry.”
Steve smiled despite himself, shining his own torch onto the steps.
“I just don't see why going into the sea every day is so important to you.”
Tony clambered onto the little strip of wall separating the stairs from the tarmacked way that would take them to where one could actually climb down to the water. He huffed.
“It just is! I made it two weeks, I'm not going to break my streak now. I had a plan.”
Stepping off the stairs onto the wall and doing his best not to shove his shoulder into the overhanging cacti, Steve tried to be the voice of reason one more time.
“But it's dark.”
Tony waved his torch over his shoulder, nearly hitting Steve in the eye with the beam. Luckily Steve had hopped off the wall a few seconds before.
“We have lamps.”
Steve sighed, half fond and half annoyed, and gave up.
Contrary to Steve's fears, the small rock-and-rope-bannister “stairway” down to the water turned out to be climbable in the dark even in flip-flops.
After a minute of carefully picking across the rock, they were on sand and had their feet in the water.
The tiny beach stretched out before them. They were surrounded by rock on three sides, encased in a crescent-shaped bay in front of a rock wall dotted with little caverns. To the left and right of the strip of sand, there were rock overhangs with little tide pools on top.
The sea was bashing against the rock, rolling out over the sand, loud in the night's stillness. Black water that was surprisingly clear when Steve shone the light into it, and white foam.
Despite still being very close to the buildings of the little town, the tiny beach was quiet except for the water.
The moon hung overhead, round and full.
“Wow.”
Tony stood still, the beam of his torch cutting across the water.
“Yeah.”
“It's a shame I took my contacts out before we left. It's all very blurry.”
Steve laughed.
“Oh my god! How did you not fall flat on your face?”
Tony wrinkled his nose.
“I crouched a lot.”
Steve snickered.
They spent a moment just standing on the sand, letting the water wash around their ankles. Steve smiled.
“You getting in or what?”
Getting a determined look on his face, Tony deposited his towel, keys and flip-flops on one of the rock outcroppings.
Then he waded waist-deep into the water, inspecting it in the torch-light was he went.
Which he had to bend down to do without his contacts, nearly getting splashed in the eye a few times. That made Steve laugh again. Tony ignored him.
Then he just stood there indecisively for a moment, eyeing the sea around himself.
Because he was a good husband, Steve didn't laugh again. Barely.
“What's the mater, scaredy cat?”
To Steve's surprise, Tony didn't rise to the bait or even splash him with water. Instead, he just eyed the night-black sea, a slightly sad, pinched look on his face.
“I don't actually want to go swimming in the dark. I didn't even bring goggles.”
Steve blinked.
“Okay?”
“But I know I'll be disappointed if I just leave now.”
Steve considered that for a moment, stashing his own towel and shoes on the rock.
“Dip yourself in?”, he suggested.
Tony looked at him over his shoulder, still standing in the water.
“That's a bit childish, isn't it?”
Steve shot him a flat look, pointing his torch at the “stairs” they'd just climbed down to the sand.
“But climbing down rocks in the middle of the night to fill some imaginary daily quota of 'being in the sea' isn't?”
Tony tugged at the waistband of his swim briefs.
“Good point.”
Then he fell over backwards, disappearing under the waves.
Steve screamed.
“Tony!”
Nearly dropping his torch in his surprise, he scrambled for his husband.
Who popped back up a second later, pushing water off his face.
“Whew!”
Steve all but screeched to a halt, then nearly fell over himself when the sand under his feet slipped away.
“Tony! Don't scare me like that.”
Tony at least had the grace to look vaguely contrite.
“Sorry.”
Steve sighed, heart still beating fast.
“You're lucky you're cute.”
Tony grinned. He held his hand out.
“Together?”
Aw.
Steve tried not to look too besotted and checked the water with his lamp to make sure there were no rocks to brain himself on. Then he took Tony's hand.
“Together.”
They both let themselves fall.
Steve's butt hit sand and blessedly cool water closed over his head, taking away the summer heat and most of the sweat from their impromptu excursion.
Steve came up smiling, scrubbing his free hand over his face.
“That was nice.”
Tony pushed into his space with a smile to match, treading on Steve's big toe for a moment before adjusting his feet.
“You're nice.”
Then he pecked Steve on the lips.
Suddenly feeling mischievous, Steve caught his husband under the armpits and swung him in a circle, startling a surprised but delighted laugh out of him.
Setting Tony down again, Steve thanked the luck of the dumb and childish for making sure they'd been far enough away so he hadn't bashed Tony's feet into the rocks with that manoeuvre.
For a few long moments, they just stood in the water looking at each other, crystal-clear torch-lit water swirling around their legs.
Then they let themselves fall under the surf one more time, still holding hands, before collecting their things and starting the small climb back up the rocks.
When they arrived at their flat one detour later – they'd missed the wall they had to climb on and had to double back a bit –, they were both damp, smiling and leaning into each other as if they were drunk.
“Nice swim,” Tony commented, leaning on Steve as he fiddled the door open.
Steve snorted.
“We didn't swim.”
“But it sounds more romantic if we say we did.”
Steve paused between the door and the kitchen, dropping the keys back onto their little shelf.
“You know, speaking of things sounding like something they're not, this is probably not what people picture when they hear about Tony Stark going on holiday.”
Tony made a 'hrrrm' sound, stuffing his towel into the washing machine.
“Distinctly lacking in yachts and tabloid pictures of me in a tiny speedo, yeah.”
He put a finger to his lips in mock consideration.
“I could still get the tiny speedo.”
Steve glanced at Tony's swimwear.
“That thing you're wearing isn't tiny?”
Tony tweaked the red fabric.
“This? Oh please, Captain Bermuda Short, by European standards this is huge . Perfectly modest. Positively Victorian.”
Steve raised an eyebrow at Tony.
“' European Standards ', he says. I googled that, you know. They have perfectly normal swim trunks in Europe.”
Tony burst out laughing.
Steve held out for a few seconds before a giggle escaped him and then he was laughing too.
“You googled it!” Tony gasped out, pointing a finger at Steve from where he was leaning on the washing machine clutching his sides.
Steve's snippy retort came out as little more than a “pfffrtt” noise.
It took a long time for them to calm down again and catch their breath.
They were both sitting in the kitchen, now showered and enjoying an extremely late dinner/breakfast of crackers and cheese when Tony suddenly jerked upright like he'd been stung by something.
“You called me a ' scaredy cat '!”
Steve blinked at him drowsily from behind his water glass.
“Yeeees? I honestly thought you were at least going to splash me with water for that. But you just ignored it.”
Tony chucked the water in his own glass at him.
There was a moment of perfect silence where they both stared at each other with equally stunned expressions.
Then they were both laughing again.
Steve decided that if they all ended like this, Tony could drag him on as many hare-brained midnight excursions as he wanted.