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“This is all your fault,” Tony mutters grumpily as he slides out of the car, pausing just long enough to shoot Happy a quick nod. "Maybe this'll teach you not to say nice things about me in public. Important information for the future."
“I'm still not even sure how we got to this point,” Steve says, still in that vaguely lost tone he's had all day.
The incessant flashing of a million cameras certainly isn't helping with Steve's slightly dazed expression as he clambers out of the car, and a small part of Tony can't wait to see those photos. Most of Tony, though, is just dreading finding out exactly how this is all going to go horribly, horribly wrong. Plus, he just knows Steve is going to look unfairly good in all the press photos no matter what dumb things his face is doing. The suit he's all nicely wrapped up in pretty much guarantees that.
"Let's get this night over with," Tony says miserably, slaps on his press smile, and then drags Steve's giant, dazed ass towards the doors by the arm.
-
What had happened was Steve, being a big dumb sweet-hearted idiot who didn't know when to keep his damn mouth shut. Namely, when they suddenly found themselves swarmed by reporters just tying to leave the tower to walk to the burger place down the street. Tony had been all prepared to just flash a smile and elbow his was through the crowd, but not Steve, oh no, apparently Steve had had other plans.
Tony had been barely even paying attention to the questions being tossed at him, had zoned out around the time someone had asked asked about his breakup with Pepper for the millionth time. Like that hadn't happened a couple years ago now, like it wasn't the oldest of old news. Apparently the term 'undateable' has been thrown out there, because the next thing Tony knew Steve had been practically screaming into the gathered reporters, ranting about how 'Tony is the exact opposite of undateable,' about how he's apparently 'thoughtful and generous' and how 'anyone would be lucky to have him.'
Tony had nearly tripped over nothing and face planted into the sidewalk, and he hadn't even been sure which part was more surprising, Steve being anything less than polite to the press, or the fact that Steve apparently thinks he's 'a real catch.'
-
“Yes, I remember that,” Steve says, and he doesn't roll his eyes but his face gets that pinched look that says he really wants to. It's too bad, Tony would really love the mental image of Steve going full-annoyed in the middle of a charity gala to look back on and laugh. “And I'm still not going to apologize for what I said, they were way out of line-“
“Stop, you're embarrassing me,” Tony says dryly, and Steve kindly goes along with pretending the sarcasm is real.
“What I'm saying,” Steve continues on, undaunted as he always is by Tony's bullshit, “is that I don't understand how that got us here.”
“Ah,” Tony says, because it's a fair point.
-
That was kind of where the whole thing got a little complicated, and see there was a reason Tony never responded to those kind of digs from the press. Because they always took any reaction entirely out of context, and usually blew it out of proportion too. Which is how 'news' had gotten out that Tony Stark is looking to date again, with Captain America as his confusingly aggressive wingman.
Tony is not, for the record, looking for a date. Not even a little bit, but he couldn't exactly say that or they'd go right back to reporting on how he's obviously still in love with Pepper and wasting away without her. Again, for the record, he's not, but since when has the truth ever mattered to the tabloids? And Tony supposes it's better than the alternative, which would be the press making the wild leap to the (correct) conclusion that the reason Tony hasn't been dating is because he's a little, completely hung up on someone new. Someone tall and blond who does dumb things like yell at the press on Tony's behalf. Maybe. Who's to say, really, because Tony will certainly never tell. Luckily, very few of the least respectable writers had leapt on that theory.
The end result of the entire mess, is that the world is now convinced that Tony's looking for love, which could not be further from the truth. He's got all the love he needs, more than enough, so much that he's constantly surprised no one else notices it spilling out of him every time he's so much as in the same room as Steve. Which makes their current situation such a problem.
-
"Aren't you supposed to be mingling?" Steve asks, raising an eyebrow at him as they loiter near the catering tables. "Isn't that what you usually do at these things?"
Tony shoots him a flat look, and then peaks around Steve's broad shoulder, which he is definitely not hiding behind, to eye the circling predators. "No Steve, I'm not mingling. That's the whole reason you're here, to play human shield so I can show my face while only talking to you all night. It's like you weren't even listening to Pepper."
"I didn't understand a word the two of you were saying," Steve confirms easily and hands Tony another plate of tiny shrimp.
"You're lucky you're cute," Tony says sweetly, patting at Steve's cheek with the hand not clutching his third plate of food. And he's really in trouble, because Steve just smiles and there is no way Tony is going to make it through tonight without making a fool of himself.
"Well at least I have that going for me," Steve says with that goofy little grin that always makes Tony weak. The one Tony has been trying really hard not to think of as ' his’ smile.
Tony shoves more shrimp into his mouth so he won't say anything incredibly stupid.
-
Tony's plan had been to just ignore all the rumors and gossip, like he always did, but after the third overzealous admirer had to be forcibly carted out of the tower lobby he could admit that maybe things were getting out of hand. And the media was just making it worse, of course, playing it up like some kind of competition; capture the heart of Tony Stark and win instant fame and notoriety.
Tony remains wildly unamused by the whole thing. He had even had to ban the news in the tower after a particularly fictional broadcast had Clint laughing his ass off and Steve nearly putting a remote through the TV. Pointing out that technically this was what Steve had wanted, now people officially thought Tony was dateable again, just seemed to make Steve grumpier, which made Clint laugh harder, until Steve had stormed out of the room and Tony had been left alone with Clint’s cackling. The whole thing is just a headache that Tony doesn't want to deal with, much less know begin to know how.
And then came the charity gala, the one Tony couldn't skip no matter how much he begged and pleaded and reasoned. Pepper had even sounded kind of sorry for him, though she hadn't let him off the hook, so what good did that do him? Because Tony just knew he'd be swarmed with the desperate elite the second he walked in, no way to avoid it. Not without actually finding a date to the thing, which is what Tony had been trying to avoid in the first place.
For all the good that had done him.
-
Hiding behind Steve doesn't work forever, because of course it doesn't. Steve is entirely too friendly and wholesome to keep the wolves at bay for long.
"I hear you're back on the market," the woman says, a small secretive smile on her face and yep, that is definitely her hand on Tony’s ass.
"Technically true, but I assure you, rumors of my appeal have been greatly exaggerated," Tony says with a tight smile and tries to subtly shift away from her.
Its apparently enough to pull Steve's attention away from the conversation he's having with the woman's husband. Or possibly her father. The introductions weren't real clear.
"Time for your speech," Steve says and wow, that is his Captain America voice right there. No one even thinks to protest as Steve expertly extracts Tony from the women's clutches and then escorts him across the room with his huge hand in the small of Tony's back.
It takes everything Tony has not to blush like a school girl being escorted into the prom. He has a terrible feeling that he's failing, and Tony would just like it known, just for the record, that this whole thing was not his idea.
-
Getting called to Pepper's office had felt uncomfortably similar to getting called into the principal's office. Not that Tony would know. At all. The feeling had only gotten worse when he realized Steve was already waiting in the hallway, looking like a confused puppy and Tony definitely hadn't been struck with the urge to pet his head, not even a little bit.
After making them wait for an agonizing ten minutes Pepper had finally let them in, and Tony had known instantly by the look on her face that he wasn't going to like where this was going. And he hadn't, because she'd wanted to talk about the rumors and the upcoming gala, because of course that was what this was all about. Pepper had pointed out there was one rumor that might actually come in useful, and the look she had given Tony was equal parts pity and mocking.
Tony's blood had run cold, and no matter how much he'd objected Pepper had stood firm. She thought it was the best option, no matter how many times Tony had insisted that it was actually the worst option. Poor Steve had just been left looking back and forth between them, confusion obvious on his face, and in the end it had been his downfall.
-
Tony gets up on the stage and he gives the speech Pepper wrote for him. The whole time his eyes follow Steve as he moves around the room, talking and smiling and charming everyone in his path.
It’s disgusting, it what it is, how easy Steve makes it look. Every gala or press event that Tony has to do, he worries that his fake smile is going to get stuck, stretched painfully tight across his face. But Steve is genuinely friendly, and talking to him always leaves people smiling and happy. Not at all like Tony, who at best leaves people confused and a little lost, wondering if they've just been insulted.
By the time Tony's speech is over Steve is waiting by the edge of the stage again, and his easy smile has been replaced by a look of determination. Before Tony can say a word, or maybe ask where the fight is, Steve grabs his hand and drags him over to the slowly filling dance floor. Tony is so busy trying to fight down his sudden and overwhelming urge to blush and stutter that he doesn’t even notice they’re dancing until it’s already happening.
“Um,” Tony says, and now he’s definitely blushing. His head is also kind of spinning, and Tony is totally going to blame it on the dancing, even if they're really just swaying in place. Mostly he's just lightheaded from having Steve's hands on him, Steve's eyes on him, the heavy weight of Steve’s attention focused entirely on Tony. “Wha- what-?”
"Tony," Steve says, voice low, something oddly tight in his expression, "do people think I'm your date?"
Tony blinks at him, clutches a little tighter at Steve’s shoulder because its kind of the only thing keeping him upright. "Wow, you really weren't listening to Pepper's plan," Tony says, and he definitely sounds a little strangled.
-
Historically, people have had a hard time saying no to Pepper. Doesn’t matter if it’s Tony or the SI board of directors, Pepper basically always gets what she wants.
So really, it’s not totally Steve’s fault, that he had automatically agreed when Pepper had turned that sharp smile on him and said ‘Steve doesn’t mind, does he?’ Of course Steve hadn’t been able to argue with that smile, no one would have been.
Tony certainly hadn’t jumped in with any further arguments, and not just because, actually, he would really, really like to take Steve to a charity gala as his date. Or really anywhere as his date. No, Tony hadn’t said anything because he had known there was no way he’d be able to believably object to the plan any more than he already had without giving away how much he secretly, selfishly loved the plan. He’d made some very expressive and unhappy faces though, leaning back where Steve hadn’t been able to see him, and Pepper had steadfastly ignored him.
So really, Tony is right. This whole thing is Steve’s fault. He just had to go be a dumb, sweet hearted idiot, defending Tony to the press, and now Steve has to play fake date / bodyguard to defend Tony from the desperate masses. Except apparently Steve had missed the ‘fake date’ part of the equation, and Tony’s really not sure how he’s supposed to feel about that.
-
“I told you, this is what you get for saying nice things about me in public, now people think you're my date," Tony says and he's aiming for flippant but probably misses by a mile. Because apparently the fact that this was a date, no matter how fake, hadn’t even occurred to Steve, and isn’t that fun? “You can just wait and see how undateable I actually am at the end of the night.”
“Tony,” Steve says slowly, in the special tone he gets when Tony takes a joke too far.
“What?” Tony tries to demand, tries to sound offended, but instead his voice just comes out soft because Tony genuinely has no idea what he did wrong this time. Except apparently trick Steve into a fake-date, and if that’s what Steve is upset about then Tony might actually cry. Because if he can’t even get a fake-date from the nicest guy in the world than maybe he’s even more undateable than he thought.
Steve sighs, leans his head down until their foreheads bump together, and its probably a good thing Steve's eyes are closed, because there is absolutely no way for Tony to hide the way his own eyes have gone wide with shock. “I told you, I meant every word,” Steve says, his voice practically a whisper, and he sounds so sincere and so unexpectedly sad and Tony has no idea what any of it means. “Anyone would be- so, so lucky to have you.”
Tony makes a sound that's supposed to be a scoff, but it comes out sounding weak and strangled. “Aw, come on, have you not even met me?” Tony asks, trying to crack a joke but it doesn't really work when his voice is the thing that cracks.
Steve opens his eyes again and Tony's breath catches almost painfully in his chest. “I know you,” Steve says, voice quiet but firm, like he's saying something terribly important. “I know you, and I- I think you're the most amazing person I've ever met. I just, I wish I could make you see it.”
Tony can only blink stupidly, and he wants so badly to turn this into some kind of joke, but with Steve meeting his gaze steadily Tony can't seem to think of a single thing to say that's not brutally honest. “That’s... really nice,” Tony finally says, his voice tight and he’s really having trouble breathing with Steve all up in his space like this. He’s also having a lot of trouble not reading into the way Steve's face is inches away from his own, smiling at Tony all gentle and fond, spinning him through the end of one song and straight into the next. “Stop it, you’re freaking me out,” Tony insists weakly.
“No,” Steve says, grinning a little wider. His hand on Tony’s lower back feels huge and warm and so, so gentle, his eyes bright and about as happy as Tony has ever seen him. “I’m going to say nice things about you all the time, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
Before he even knows what’s happening Tony finds himself blurting out “maybe you should go on a real date with me, see how you feel after that.” The wave of mortification that crashes over Tony almost immediately afterward is almost enough to knock him off his feet, and he might actually fall on his ass if not for Steve keeping him standing.
And Steve just smiles, wide and bright, like somehow he’s the one who’s been waiting for this. "Deal," Steve says, and Tony is left blinking in stunned confusion. "But fair warning," Steve adds with a smirk, "I'm probably going to say more nice things."
"Deal," Tony repeats, a little breathless and a lot shocked, still not sure that this is really happening. He'd pinch himself, but one, he'd have to stop dancing with Steve, and two, if this is a dream Tony doesn't actually want to wake up.
"Good," Steve says, and spins him again.