Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Monopoly!" Clint grins triumphantly.

"You don't want to do that, Clint," Natasha warns, casting a wary glance at Tony, who's busy on his phone with Pepper.

Clint throws a chip at her, which she catches easily. "Why not?" he groans.

"It's a team bonding, not a nemesis-making session, Clint," Bruce chides from the bar. He places the last glass of juice on the tray and walks over, handing them out to each Avenger, "any board games you know, Steve?"

"Thanks, Bruce," Steve sips nervously from his glass, fingers gently tapping against it, "I, uh – "

Tony finally looks up from his phone, pocketing it with a clap of his hands and smirking at the room. "Monopoly's older than Steve, right?"

"Yes, sir," JARVIS chimes in dutifully.

"See, I'm always right. Bring up the holograms, J," Tony gleefully commands as lights begin to form a square board, "I'm going to kick your ass, Barton."

"I call banker," Natasha cuts in before Clint can squawk a protest, and Bruce looks at her sharply.

"JARVIS can be the banker," the doctor calmly says with a false innocence, "we wouldn't want you to miss out, Natasha."

"I feel like I'm missing something," Clint's eyes dart between them, but he sits up straighter on the couch anyways. "Bring it on, Stark."

Tony smirks. He doesn't bother replying, though, turning instead to Steve. The soldier's still holding onto his glass of juice as if it's a lifeline, eyes lost faraway.

"Hey, Steve," Tony gently prods, "you up for this game? We can do a practice round."

Steve blinks, swallowing and finally putting down the glass on the table. "Yeah."

Only then does Tony meet Clint's challenge, "I'm going to rock your world."

"JARVIS rigged the game. There's no other explanation!" Clint protests, wagging a finger at Tony.

Tony smirks, counting his real dollar bills that he insisted they use, making a show of putting them back in his wallet and snapping it shut, "you put up a good fight, Birdbrain."

Clint had bankrupted first. And then Bruce, with Steve coming an impressive third. He hadn't been able to beat Natasha, though, and at that point Tony owned two thirds of the board. They fought a valiant fight.

Natasha raises a brow, one corner of her lips pulled up. "We tried to warn you, Clint."

"Nuh uh, rematch. Next week game night, rematch."

Taking off his glasses, Bruce laughs, "that's your own grave you're digging."

"We could play with a real board," Steve chimes in, "JARVIS is cool but it might take away some of Tony's edge."

Tony snorts incredulously. "Sure." And then, "gotta admit, though, you're quite good."

The question is vague, giving Steve the leeway to dodge it. Across the table, with the holograms still shining, Tony's face is lit up with a soft blue. Two months ago, Steve had called the man arrogant and self-centred. Now, Tony had opened his home and taken this time to try to get to know them.

A very expensive olive branch, but still an olive branch.

"I know how to get by in a pinch," Steve extends his own olive branch, a spark of delight when he sees Tony's smile light up a bit more, "we used to call it the Landlord's Game, and our landlord wasn't the best guy."

"Hope my charm is an upgrade," Tony shoots back. As nonchalant as the words sound, Steve can pick out a hint of uncertainty there.

"What charm? Your morning bedhead?" Steve teases, because he's learning that Tony won't believe a simple yes.

There's the language of the future and the language of Tony, and Steve's also learning that everything in the SHIELD briefing packet is bullshit.

"I am going to bankrupt your ass worse next time, Mr. Rogers," Tony indignantly mutters, unable to quite keep the smile off his face.

And because Steve can never back down from a challenge, he grins back, "you can try."

SHIELD wrote that Tony Stark displays traits of narcissism, that he has a massive disregard for others, and has no thought for consequences.

They failed to mention the selfless courage that it took to fly a goddamn nuke into the sky, the massive disregard others have for Tony, and that Tony doesn't stop to think about the cost to his own self.

They also conveniently left out in the superpowers bit: crazy businessman skills.

Because Tony Stark never ever loses a deal.

"If the government has enough money to buy my weapons, they have enough money to help reconstruct the city," Tony scoffs into the phone. He climbs up one of the tall chairs, leaning forward against the kitchen island to steal Steve's cup of coffee, "good God you'll get diabetes with this, Rogers."

Steve shrugs, turning back to his pancake batter. It's a guilty indulgence. Sugar used to be so expensive, and it's not like the serum will let him get sick. He doesn't bother to defend himself, though, because Tony's going a mile a minute, prattling on the phone, "you want me to repeat that to the press? The Stark Relief Foundation is up and running, Governor, look around and almost all alien tech is gone from the streets, but my billions aren't going to help anyone if they have no electricity. You know my reactor tech is safe, sustainable, and cheaper in the long run."

A brief minute of silence and Steve flips his pancake, checking that his batter's enough for a few more.

"Is that really the story you want to go with? We can't save the city cause the governor doesn't have the guts to go against big business?" Tony drawls out almost lazily, taking another huge gulp of coffee and sticking his tongue out at the taste. "What? See, honey, I knew you'd see the light. Oh, and Ms. Potts just arrived in your lobby to take your signature."

And with that Tony hangs up, thunking his head on the table as he lets out a long groan.

"I thought the recovery's going fine?" Steve asks. He takes out another plate and serves the newly made pancake on it, pouring another batch of batter to sizzle on the pan.

Lifting his head, Tony makes a face and starts ranting, "yeah, lots of grids were cut off, though, entire neighbourhoods are running on crappy battery-fueled lights cause the oil and electrical companies know they'll go out of business if my reactor tech goes to market. My lawyers gave up, asked me to help," he starts to smirk, "my press conferences are a marvel."

Putting the last pancake on the second plate, Steve turns off the stove and walks over, sliding one plate over to Tony. "You have time for breakfast?"

Tony's eyes widen a fraction, confused and surprised. "You going to give me food poisoning?"

"I have better ways to kill you, Stark," Steve easily points out, waving a fork in front of his face.

Squinting, Tony relents, grabbing the fork and messily cutting into the pile of pancakes. Discreetly, Steve holds his breath, waiting as Tony chews and chews and –

"Chef, what will it take for me to get the recipe?"

Grinning in triumph, Steve shakes his head, "wake up early enough and I'll make it."

Tony chuckles, moaning around his second mouthful, "hard bargain. But I'll wear you down soon enough, Rogers."

As they eat, their forks clinking softly against their plates, a gentle silence slips between them.

It's the thank you that Tony doesn't quite know how to say yet, and the awe Steve doesn't quite know how to express yet.

Their next game night, Clint hauls in a sealed Monopoly box set with a manic glee in his eyes.

"You're going down, Stark."

Clearing the table free of pencils, knives, and snacks, they unwrap it together and set out the board, bickering over the pieces.

"I get the car," Clint tries to snatch it away from Tony even as Steve steals the dog, "you get the iron cause – "

"Don't say it, Clint," Natasha warns, grabbing the battleship for herself.

" – you're Iron Man," Clint finishes undaunted, but Tony still hangs on, refusing to let go.

"I got the car first," Tony croons victoriously, wrenching his hand free as Clint pouts, looking sullenly at the leftover pieces and glaring at the others.

Bruce's tiny top hat is perched on his head, his calm smile daring Clint to take it, but even Clint knows not to mess with the Hulk, so he fishes the wheelbarrow and places it haughtily on the board.

"Fine, I start first," he declares, the dice securely in his fist.

"Be my guest," Tony challenges.

Tony wins. Again.

The team meet Pepper when she storms into the common floor, slamming a box on the table in front of Tony and blocking everyone's view of the hologram.

"I know it's movie night – hello everyone – but Tony, the Italian partners have gone too far. Their papers are in Italian. JARVIS can translate just fine but can you please make them see why they shouldn't mess with Stark?" 

She squeezes into the small space to Tony’s left, forcing Tony to move over and press himself against Steve. The three of them on the couch is a tight fit, and yet Pepper doesn’t care, kicking off her heels and rubbing at her ankle, tipping her head back.

“Everyone, meet Pepper Potts,” Tony breaks the silence. He reaches for the box and places it on his lap, whistling at the stack of papers in there, “give us half an hour and she’ll be back to normal.”

Slowly, after some more wary glances at Ms Potts and Tony, everyone else begins shifting their attention back to The Matrix. Still, Steve can’t help but sneak glances once in a while when Tony’s moving arms jostle and poke into Steve’s ribs. Somehow, Tony has a pen between his teeth and a highlighter in his hand and is going through the pages like a madman, scribbling occasionally into the corners of the pages.

Ms Potts has her eyes closed, head drooping in sleep to lean on Tony’s other shoulder, and Tony seems perfectly content. Steve feels increasingly uncomfortable at this peek into their intimacy and he feels at the same time a swooping feeling of loss. Yes, he can confidently say the Avengers are friends, but Steve craves something deeper, he misses Dum Dum’s drunken ballads and Morita’s cockiness and laying down in Bucky’s lap as Bucky throws sticks at Falsworth.

He quickly shoves the thoughts away, letting the scritch-scratch of Tony’s pen distract him. It goes on for a moment, Steve losing track of whatever the movie is about, and just as Steve’s about to get up to refill his drink, Tony drops the box on the floor with a finality that jolts Ms Potts awake.

“Twelve loopholes, and so many ambiguities we can exploit, Pep,” Tony smiles brilliantly at her. “They insist on cash flow rights without saying anything about control rights? Go ahead and mess with them, Pep, we can afford it.”

She sits up, blearily rubbing at her eyes and gratefully taking the glass of water Tony offers her. “Thanks, Tony. I’ll send your notes to Legal. It’s been a long day.”

“You’ve done more than enough, Pep. JARVIS scanned them while I worked, and Legal already has them.”

The tone of Tony’s voice is softer than Steve has ever heard it and it’s gone faster than Steve would like.

“Why have I never seen you do paperwork, Tony?” Natasha asks, her head tilted. “You read all that in thirty minutes and you can’t bother to do actual paperwork?”

Tony’s smile turns sharp. “Well, Ms Rushman, I need the right motivation.”

“Man, if aliens want to take over the planet, you can do the deal for us,” Clint mutters. His eyes are fixed at the pile of papers in the box, unable to quite comprehend just quite how Tony managed, and Steve silently agrees even if Tony’s sudden tensing alerts Steve.

“I sent them a pretty strong-worded message last time,” Tony glibly replies. Beneath it, though, Steve feels the tension crackling in Tony, and he wonders what it was like for Tony to fly into that wormhole.

“It’s good to see you again, Natasha,” Pepper smooths the conversation out, deftly taking charge. She must have also noticed Tony’s discomfort, and she covers for it with a practiced eased. “You must be Captain Rogers,” she reaches over Tony to hold out her hand, which Steve firmly shakes.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“No, oh no, you guys aren’t teaming up,” Tony protests, trying to push them away and miserably failing. “Pep, he’s holding pancakes hostage against me.”

“Just Pepper, please, Captain. I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other often.”

And as Tony continues to splutter, Steve wonders how dreadfully silent the world would be if Tony never came back from that wormhole.

Later, Steve will wake up at 3 am, wondering aimlessly into the kitchen only to find Tony, his face lit up from below with a tablet.

Later, Steve will learn that he’s not the only one dreading the dark behind his eyes, and later he will doze off on the couch to stories of Aunt Peggy and Jarvis and Ana.

He’ll wonder why, when Steve asks Tony about his childhood, Tony has nothing to say of his parents, and in the morning, Steve will wake up with a blanket wrapped over him, the rows of small red-white-and-blue shields innocently staring back at him.

And Steve will wonder who Tony Stark really is.

“With all due disrespect, Secretary Pierce, we’re not government property. It’s indentured servitude or prostitution.”

They were having an Avengers dinner when JARVIS informed them that the Secretary of the World Security Council was calling for the seventeenth time that day. Steve had shot Tony a look that sent Tony’s eyes rolling.

“He wants to control us! Yes, we need oversight, but not his kind,” Tony had grumbled before telling his AI to patch the Secretary through.

Fifteen minutes later, dinner had stopped in favor of listening to Tony argue beautifully with the Secretary. Even Steve had to admit that Tony was correct in ignoring the man.

“Stark, you know that Romanoff and Barton are SHIELD agents and by extension, they’re in violation of their government contract? For that matter, Captain Rogers is still a member of the U.S. Army and can be tried for desertion.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Alex, are you going to fire them? Sue them? Do you know how ridiculous that would sound not just to the American public but to the world?” Tony scoffs, motioning with his hands to get JARVIS to pull up Natasha and Clint’s SHIELD contracts.

Helpful as ever, the AI highlights sections of interest, and Tony’s smirk grows wider. The Secretary, blissfully unaware of Tony’s new artillery, continues to insist, “it wouldn’t take much to remind the public that we don’t truly know Agent Romanoff’s name, or that Doctor Banner’s angry friend is wandering about the streets unleashed.”

Just like that, all traces of mischief vanish from Tony’s eyes. His face hardens, turning dangerous and determined, and when he speaks, it’s cold and cruel, “I suggest you read the force majeure clauses in the SHIELD contracts, Pierce, and while you’re coming at the good Captain, my lawyers will sue the government for his seventy years of backpay, with interest accrued, and we’ll be claiming intellectual property rights for the serum Howard Stark helped made.”

“Do you really want a drawn out court battle, Stark?” Pierce asks, but even over the phone they can all hear the uncurrent of hesitance and fear in the Secretary’s voice.

Tony smiles, sweet and sharp, “if I were a country, I’d be in the G20, Alex. And if you threaten Doctor Banner – or any of my team again – you’ll find that I’m not above doing whatever it takes to guarantee their freedom.”

“This isn’t over, Stark. The Avengers need to have accountability.”

“I’m not an unreasonable man, and I’m willing to negotiate when they get someone with a brain to call me,” Tony acquiesces nonchalantly, “I’ll give the President a call about who best to assign.”

On the line, Pierce stutters indignantly. “Stark, you can’t – that’s not – ”

“G20, Alex, you’ll find that I can, and I will. Better learn how to file for unemployment benefits.”

“No, wait – ”

“J? End call.”

“Of course, sir.”

The holograms vanish, and Tony goes back to picking up his fork and stabbing a carrot. He brings it halfway to his mouth before he realizes that the entire table is still blinking blankly at him.

“What?” he asks, putting down the fork and frowning, “did you have a problem with that?”

Slowly, Clint starts clapping, and Bruce joins in after the third clap. Natasha shakes her head and starts clapping too. Steve follows suit, smiling wider when he sees a faint flush of red creeping into Tony’s cheeks.

“I’m still going to beat you at Monopoly, Tony, but any other day, I’m not crossing you.”

And that about sums up what Steve feels, except, he has to add, “that was amazing, Tony.”

Biting his lip, Tony winks, evidently trying to tamp down how pleased he is. “Of course I’m amazing.”

Steve finds no reason to disagree.

When they clear away the dishes, Steve finally asks Tony how he learned to rile up government bureaucrats, breeze through contracts and… win Monopoly.

Tony tells him practice makes perfect.

“You practice that in front of the mirror?” Steve laughs, because that feels too simple an answer to explain anything and everything Tony is capable of doing.

Turning sharply at Steve, Tony huffs incredulously, a smile dancing across his lips. “Every night before bedtime. You’re welcome to join.”

“I’ll bring the fondue,” Steve winks. He reaches over Tony’s head for a Tupperware to pack the leftover pasta in, and Tony just cackles.

“What fondue?” Bruce asks from the sink, and Tony cackles louder.

After the food is stuffed neatly into the fridge, Steve says to Tony’s retreating back, “Howard didn’t like the government, but he worked with them.” Those words are enough to make Tony falter in his steps, and knowing that Tony is listening, Steve goes on, “he knew how to talk to girls, but didn’t know how to talk with them. You must have learned from Peggy.”

“How’d you know?”

In the dimmed lights, Tony’s shadow falls long and wide, larger than the man and larger than life.

Steve smiles. “Peggy taught me how to punch, too.”

There’s a press conference in the Tower’s lobby when Steve comes home from his morning run. It isn’t unusual, Tony generally warns them whenever they happen so the Avengers know to take the back entrance, and Steve’s about to do just that when he spots Tony through the glass.

The man’s expression is pinched as he leans against the podium, one hand waving about to try make a point. A reporter stands, and cameras flash and Tony’s expression grows tighter.

Looking quickly down at himself, Steve decides his grey shirt and jogging pants are respectable enough if any cameras catch him, and he strolls into the main lobby as discretely as he can.

“… with the Avengers?” the reporter demands. Steve hangs back, the guards parting to let Steve near the crowd of microphones and bright camera lights. He knows Tony can handle himself, but Steve thinks Tony shouldn’t handle everything himself, especially when this apparently pertains the team.

“That’s irrelevant, this is about the launch of the Stark Expo.”

“Where children will be in attendance, Mr Stark. Do you think it would be appropriate to let children associate your history with that of a hero?”

Without quite realizing it, Steve pushes past the sea of people and marches onto the stage. He’s angry – angry at the reporter for daring to go that far, and angry at his own self because he used to think that about Tony too, and it’s wrong.

Steve can tell the moment Tony notices his presence: Tony’s clenched jaw slackens and his eyes widen. On a war path, Steve stands his ground on the stage, ignoring Tony’s frantically questioning eyes and pulling the microphone towards him, Steve bends slightly so that he’s speaking directly into it.

“Ma’am, if you’d like to talk about history, then start with me. I’ve been arrested fourteen times for punching entitled bullies, and I’m not afraid to add a fifteenth to my record right now. I forged my enlistment papers, and I have killed more men with my bare hands than you could ever count. I’m not a saint. You can say it was war, you can say it was protection. But murder is murder.”

The entire lobby falls silent. Tony’s stopped tugging at Steve’s arm, and Steve realizes they’re all waiting for him to go on, hanging on to each word. This will likely be on the front paged and everywhere on the internet in a matter of seconds. Steve has to make it count.

“You forget I did all that because they tell you I gave my life for this country. You think Tony Stark is a lesser man than me? Yes, he’s made mistakes, but he’s also done so much more than I can ever do. Your hospitals are running thanks to his genius, and do you know how much he’s reduced the worldwide homelessness rate? When your government thought the best thing to do was nuke this goddamned city, he used it to save the entire planet. Do your research, and you’ll see why every child should want to be like Tony.”

Pausing to take a breath, Steve looks unflinchingly into the bright flashes of the cameras, daring anyone to challenge him, and to his right, Tony's eyes are wide and disbeliving, angry and shocked and a million things in between.

There's really only one thing left to say, and Steve doesn't need the microphone for it. His voice is loud and clear and full of conviction.

“We Avengers can save lives. But it’s Tony Stark who saves the future.”

“I don’t need you to fight my battles,” Tony hisses as Steve drags him into the elevator. When the doors close, he crosses his arms, glaring up at Steve with an angry defiance. “I can deal with them myself.”

Steve shakes his head, still reeling from his own anger. “You don’t have to deal with them alone.”

“I’m not a damsel in distress, Rogers.”

“No, you’re my friend.”

It comes out too sincere, but it’s the truth, so Steve does nothing to retract it. Tony squints at Steve, disbelieving, his anger melting away. With a huff, he walks stiffly to the far corner of the elevator in a failed attempt to sulk. “I’ve kept you guys out of the press all this time, and now they’ll be onto you like angry swarms of bees.”

“I can handle them myself, you know,” Steve reasonably turns Tony’s argument back at him. If Tony’s been protecting them all this time, he can’t fight against Steve trying to protect him for once. “Besides,” Steve adds too innocently, knowing exactly which button of Tony’s to push, “I hear that trending on Twitter is the latest fad.”

Tony throws his hands in the air, finally giving up the fight against his smile. “When the vultures come, don’t forget I warned you.”

Steve wants to say: you’re worth it.

He wants to tease: I have you to defend me.

But it feels like too much, too soon.

So he settles on, “I’ll just feed them to Pepper.”

Steve makes a Twitter account. He gets six million followers overnight.

“Do you see what your Captain posts?” Rhodey laughs on the hologram. Unfortunately, Rhodey’s overseas so Tony can’t vent in person, even if Rhodey is relishing the opportunity to tease. “He’s like an angry besotted muffin. ‘Iron Man is a hero and Tony Stark is my hero. Fight me.’ Where is he even learning this kind of language?”

“Not you too,” Tony groans. In the week since Steve’s made Twitter, he’s decided it’s his holy duty to pick a fight with every single bigoted politician on Capitol Hill and anyone who breathes wrong on Tony. It sends something warm through Tony that Steve thought that highly of him, and it’s enough to send Tony into a panic because Tony Stark does not get warm and fuzzy.

He’s taken to avoiding the common areas altogether, moping around because Steve can’t possibly like like Tony, right? Tony is only Steve’s friend, and Steve’s 1920s sensibilities meant he’d probably be repulsed by notions of bisexuality. Steve doesn’t make it easy, though: who says things just like that?

That particular quote was Steve’s reply to a harsh comment about his outburst a week ago, and it spurred a horrifyingly embarrassing explosion on Twitter.

#SuperHusbands broke trending records on Twitter. The internet is convinced they’re banging each other. Except –

“Have you checked your phone, Tony?”

“Why?”

“I sent you a screenshot.”

Captain America @steverogers

PSA: To all concerned citizens, Tony Stark and I are not dating. But, if we manage to donate 5 million dollars for the @mariastarkfoundation Children's Fund, I'll consider asking him out ;)

5:04 PM - 12 May 2013

6.3M retweets 4.3M likes

“What the hell? I’m screwed. Rhodey, I am so, so screwed. Have you actually seen what his wink does to me? Wait, hang on, Pep’s calling – did I do something wrong?”

“Tony, when Steve asks, I will murder you if you don’t say yes,” Pepper breathlessly orders.

“How much did we collect?” Tony asks, half afraid of the answer, half hopeful. The Children’s Fund was something that everyone knew held a special place in Tony’s heart. He was happy for any help it got, but he feared confronting whatever it was that danced between him and Steve.

“More than seven million, and still counting.”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope. And you better say yes.”

The beep-beep that comes with the end of Pepper’s call is perfectly timed, because that’s exactly when Steve bursts into Tony’s floor, spilling out of the elevator with a panicky, apologetic look.

“Tony, I am so, so sorry, I didn’t know it would get out of hand, I just wanted to help – ”

“It’s fine, Steve, you can just tell them I said no,” Tony reassures, getting up from the couch and stuffing his hands into his pockets to resist any urge to do anything untoward.

Oddly enough, Steve’s face falls. “Oh, okay. Yeah. I’ll just, uh, tell them. Okay. Sorry.”

He turns back to the elevator, shoulders hunched slightly. Tony frowns. “Wait. Steve?”

Steve whirls around to face Tony, and Tony can tell that the smile Steve has is fake and crumbling beneath the effort to put it there. “Just in case – so Pep doesn’t kill me – did you want to actually ask me?”

Steve shrugs, looking down at his feet. “It’s okay, Tony, you don’t have to – ”

“Because,” Tony forges on, stepping within arms reach of Steve and rocking nervously on the heels of his feet, “if you did want to ask me, I would say yes.”

Instantly, Steve’s head shoots up, eyes darting all over Tony, searching for any sign of a lie, a trick, and finding none. Cautiously, as if afraid to break the moment, Steve reaches out to take Tony’s right hand in both of his, enveloping it gently with his warmth. “Tony,” he starts with a tentative grin, “go out with me?”

“I’m doing this for your pancake recipe,” Tony laughs, tugging Steve closer.

Steve doesn’t let him. He brings Tony’s hand up to his lips, pressing a quick kiss across his knuckles. “I don’t put out on the first date, darlin’.”

“You're going to be the death of me.”

You Know Who I Am @tonystark

PSA: Tony Stark is officially off the market. Thanks to all of you who donated for @steverogers's consideration. We'll share the proof after our fondue ;) <3

9:17 PM - 12 May 2013

6.1M retweets 5.3M likes

“Stark, do you really think it’s in the best interest for two Avengers to be portrayed against American family values?”

“Alex, I’ve got the epitome of patriotism worshipping my ass, I think you need to reconsider what you think family values are.”

The wolfish grin Steve sends Tony from across the table promises a night of delightfully delicious, mindblowing fondue.

For Tony’s birthday, Steve gives him a red blanket with rows of little Iron Man helmets dotting the warm and fluffy wool, and Tony smugly snuggles into it every movie night, sticking his tongue out at Clint.

Their next Monopoly night, Steve comes in second, Tony willingly giving away his properties in exchange for kisses, but withholding just enough to keep his unbroken winning streak.

“Nepotism,” Clint mutters without any heat.

“Jealous,” Tony smirks, stealing another kiss from Steve.

Captain America @steverogers

Obergefell v. Kasich: Glad to hear our nation is waking up and changing. Some days I'm prouder than others to be carrying the shield.

10:27 PM - 23 Dec 2013

4.1M retweets 4.7M likes

You Know Who I Am @tonystark 

Bailing your boyfriend out of jail is the ideal Valentine’s. FYI he got his fifteenth arrest punching a guy for me. Violence isn’t the way out, but sometimes, you just gotta knock some sense into bigots. Now trying to avoid a sixteenth arrest for public indecency ;) ;P

12:12 AM - 14 Feb 2014

7.4M retweets 9.1M likes

Captain America @steverogers

Happy Birthday, darling @tonystark. Hope you grow taller this year. Looking forward to all the amazing things you’ll do to blow us – and me – away

4:19 AM - 29 May 2014

3.9M retweets 5.1M likes

You Know Who I Am @tonystark 

The things you do for love: waking up early without coffee. Happy Holidays to everyone. P.S. If you want to know what toy Steve got me, donate to @sarahrogersfoundation’s Christmas Homes Initiative to give families in need the warmth and gifts they deserve

7:13 AM - 25 Dec 2014

7.9M retweets 7.1M likes

Captain America @steverogers

Same-sex marriage is LEGAL across the country! When I ask @tonystark to marry me, we can choose any State we want. So proud and love all the pictures I’m seeing.

10:05 AM - 26 Jun 2015

4.5M retweets 6.1M likes

You Know Who I Am @tonystark

Did you propose to me on Twitter @steverogers? The answer is no. Come back with flowers and fireworks and I’ll reconsider.

10:07 AM - 26 Jun 2015

4.6M retweets 6.2M likes

Captain America @stark_rogers

He said yes.

9:19 PM - 4 Jul 2015

8.1M retweets 11.7M likes

Chapter Text

“Steven, no,” Tony tries to swipe the phone out of Steve’s hand, but Steve, even tipsy as he is from the Asgardian mead Thor had brought as a wedding gift, still manages to raise it above both their heads. At that height, not even Tony’s platform shoes can help him reach it, but Tony’s determined and unashamed enough to climb Steve like a tree if need be.

“I want – want everyone to see how pretty you are,” Steve smiles dopily, and Tony stops in his efforts for a moment to admire that smile, some part of him melting at how sappy his fian – his husband is. Steve laughs, no cut that, he giggles at Tony and presses a wet kiss on his cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, dear,” Tony replies on instinct. God, Rhodey’s right. They are both saps.

The actual wedding, with the vows and the tears had been a month ago, closed with a well-mannered dinner that had ended quickly because they’d both been unable to keep their hands off each other for long. A honeymoon later and the press complaining that they’d been tricked into missing the wedding of the millennium, Tony decided to throw a wedding party.

So they’re here. The mead is halfway drained, the cake has been demolished, an upbeat song is playing for their friends to dance to, and Tony is failing at stealing Steve’s phone because Steve has decided it’s a world-ending emergency if he doesn’t tweet a picture of Tony right now.

“Tony. Tony, you don’t get it. You’re beautiful,” Steve pulls Tony in, resting his head on Tony’s shoulder and nuzzling at his neck. Tony leans into it, not even being able to muster a scrap of frustration that Steve’s other hand is still raised high up in the air.

Tony sighs fondly. He knows. Steve had… shown the depths of his admiration for Tony’s suit when they’d gone to the fitting. They aren’t using their wedding suits – those are stored safely away – this is one of the contenders that Tony had nearly worn. The first contender had been too destroyed to wear tonight.

Steve himself is a sight to behold, but Tony isn’t trying to post any pictures, now, is he? He’d much rather enjoy Steve’s beauty in the privacy of their bedroom.

Huh. That might be enough incentive for his husband.

“Steve, light of my life, why don’t we call this party quits instead?”

“No,” Steve pulls away to pout at Tony, “people need to appreciate you. You don’t – you don’t get enough love.”

Tony thinks his heart might burst.

He reaches out to cup Steve’s cheek, brushing his thumb along it until the pout turns back into the dopey smile that Tony knows his mirrored on his own face. “I get enough love from you.”

“There’s no enough. Not for you,” Steve’s face scrunches up into a frown, his raised arm lowered slightly as he tries to think, and then, a second later, his face lights up in revelation, as if he’s figured out the secrets to the universe. Tony’s about to ask when Steve declares, “you. You deserve everything.”

“Okay,” Tony laughs. His cheeks hurt from smiling too wide. “Okay. If I deserve everything, then I deserve to be given your phone.”

Steve’s face falls, eyes blinking and hand finally lowering. “That’s cheating. But I love you.”

Sufficiently distracted from his original goal, Steve’s arm is pliant when Tony pulls it further down and takes the phone gently away. He slips it into one of his pockets, and accepts the kiss planted into his hair. Tucking himself under Steve’s chin, Tony wonders how he got so lucky.

“I want to marry you again,” Steve says after a moment, the rumble of his words gentle and sure, “I want to marry you every year and every day.”

Laughing, Tony brings his arms around Steve and starts swaying them both softly to the lilting piano notes drifting through the room. “I think that’s called an anniversary, darling.”

“Oh,” Steve actually sounds disappointed, but he tightens his hold around Tony. “Then I’m glad I married you. I want an anniversary every day.”

“I think,” Tony promises, closing his eyes and listening to the steady, warm beats of his husband’s heart, “that can be arranged.”

It’s only in the late hours of the following afternoon that Tony thinks to fish for Steve’s phone in his discarded suit jacket. Steve’s in the kitchen cooking them an overdue breakfast and lunch, and Tony respects his husband’s privacy. He really does. 

But. He’s curious of what it was about the photograph of him last night that made Steve so determined to post it for the world to see. That made Steve ramble about Tony more passionately than ever.

So, he presses his thumb against the scanner and waits for the screen to light up. When it does, it’s still stuck at where Steve last used it: the gallery app’s camera folder.

There are many, many blurry pictures of the party. Some of them are the vague outlines of Tony’s face, the back of Tony’s head, and something that looks suspiciously like Tony’s ass, but the most recent one – the one that’s been selected and has a tick on its upper corner – is Steve’s face.

Curiously pressing on it to make it fill the screen, Tony finds his smile growing wider and wider. It’s a video, only three or four seconds long, and it’s obvious that Steve had mistakenly switched cameras.

There’s no sound to the recording, but Tony can read Steve’s lips calling out his name, and that look on Steve’s face, utterly besotted and undoubtedly gazing at Tony, not bothering to hide his affection –

Tony sends the file to his own phone. And to his private servers. And also to his backup private servers, just in case. 

Through the open door, he can start to smell the eggs and bacons sizzling on the pan, and he really should give Steve back his phone and go out to help with the plates, but he’s still far too mesmerized.

Softly, he traces his thumb across the screen, along the crinkles at the edge of Steve’s eyes, never more grateful that he designed the camera to capture every little detail.

Yeah, that’s going up as his lockscreen.

He might even get it printed and frame it.

And if one day it ends up on Twitter, well.

It’s not Tony’s fault he can’t deny his husband.

Chapter Text

“Tony, yes,” Tony pumps his fist in the air. The dice shows a double six, and with a ‘vroom’, he slides his little car along the board, neatly parking it behind the orange marker of New York Avenue. Smugly, he counts his dollar bills, handing them over to Bruce, who strategically decided to bankrupt himself in ten minutes – ‘less stress, less Hulk’ – and places the little plastic house from Bruce next to the two already on the board.

Clint pouts. “How do you always land on the best properties? It’s a capitalist trick I demand to learn.”

“We played over a hundred games and I’ve won every single one. It’s called skill, Barton.”

“Not true,” Clint snatches the dice and shakes them in his hand, “Steve’s won at least five times.”

Tony looks down at his husband, who’s using his lap as a pillow, “yeah. We’re married. What’s his is mine. Therefore, his wins are mine.”

“That makes his wins mine, too,” Steve winks.

Natasha coughs. “Sugar baby.”

“What was that, Romanoff?” Tony grins as the dice rolls to a stop and Clint lands on one of Steve’s properties. Pity, there aren’t any houses yet on that one, but it’s still cash. “Pay up, peasant.”

“Next time,” Clint says to no one in particular, “we’re playing Cards Against Humanity.”

“You don’t want to do that either,” Natasha warns. Does Clint really want to go against Tony’s renowned snark and Steve’s less-renowned-but-even-worse penchant for well-timed one liners? Even Natasha knows her limits.

Clint shrugs, glaring at Steve’s outstretched hand and shoving his wad of dollars into it. “At least when I lose that game, I can get a laugh out of it.”

Tony’s grin is positively wicked.

The Daily Bugle @dailybugle

BREAKING: Tony Stark spotted with old flame? Husband Steve Rogers nowhere to be seen… Tune in at 8 p.m. for more!

3:12 PM - 12 May 2017

6.1K retweets 5.3K likes

Steve stares blankly at the screen the reporter shoved into his face, his fists tightening around the flowers he’d been out to get. Their vibrant colors seem to fuel the reporters more, ramping up their ambush of Steve – Mr Rogers, have you seen the pictures? Who are those flowers for, Captain? Would you like to leave a comment – Mr Rogers!

Usually, it isn’t much of a hardship to lose them, especially here, near the special entrance to the Tower that’s designed to let the Avengers and only the Avengers in, but this time, Steve doesn’t want to lose them. He wants them to listen.

He’s torn between furious that they dare to accuse Tony of cheating and amused that they’re so desperate for a story, they’d go as low as to use old pictures of his husband. At some point, this has to stop. As much as Tony says that he doesn’t mind the gossip, Steve knows that it still puts a strain on work, adding to the long list of things on Tony’s plate.

That’s unacceptable.

Shoving the phone away from in front of him, Steve pushes forward to the nearest microphone.

An odd quiet falls over the small throng of reporters. From the top of their heads, he can see a growing crowd of people stopping to watch and see what their little gathering on the sidewalk is all about.

Good, Steve thinks, they need to hear this.

“First of all, these flowers are for Natasha. Apparently, they’re an ingredient for one of her poisons,” Steve’s stern voice carries easily through the air, above the honking and rumble of the rush hour traffic. He picks out the single red carnation at the center of his flowers, smiling unrepentantly. “This is for Tony, though – it’s game night tonight. I need to bribe him with something.”

Dead silence.

It takes all of Steve’s self-control and army training to not giggle at the slow, confused blinks that his audience is giving him.

Having pulled the rug from under them, Steve goes on, more cheerfully than before, “that picture’s six years old. I know for certain that it was me in Tony’s bed every night for the past two years,” he pauses for a second to wink into one of the cameras, “whether we were alone or not… that’s the real question.”

Before he walks away, he declares one last thing:

“By the way, it’s Captain Stark-Rogers, thank you very much.”

Tony’s not yet home when the elevator doors slide open to their shared floor, so Steve takes out a vase from the kitchen, fills it with water, and slowly lowers the flower meant for Tony. He debates on where to leave it – the workshop? Or their bedroom? The dining table would work if they weren’t having a team dinner tonight. Staring ruefully at the rest of the flowers in his hand, he supposes he could –

The blaring of the Star-Spangled Man’s first chorus, and Steve sighs. Tony must have hacked his phone again.

“JARVIS, put him through.”

“Steve!” Tony’s breathless voice fills the room, and Steve laments that it isn’t a video call. He misses his husband. There had been an early meeting today, with no time for a breakfast together, and compounded with the gossiping reporters, Steve really wants a hug.

“Hey, darling.”

“You know I love you more than anything, right?” Tony sounds shaken, “I would never – ”

Steve cuts him off with a short, “I know.”

The press is one of the things Tony had been so adamant on protecting Steve from, even though he’s proven to Tony a hundred times over that he can handle reporters, and he doesn’t care a dime about what they say.

That’s a lie.

He cares about the bad things they say about Tony.

He cares that they hurt Tony.

It must be a particularly bad round of press for Tony to call Steve just to ask that. Steve makes a note to look further into it, see what he can do about lifting the attention off Tony and getting the reporters away from the Tower before Tony comes how.

He puts the flowers for Natasha into the vase too. They can wait. Now, he has something more important to take care of.

From the other end of the line, he can hear his husband swallow, and Steve can picture him biting his lips uncertainly. When Tony speaks again, his voice is weary. “Okay, good. I know you’ve been out the whole day, but, uh, have you seen the news?”

Rolling his eyes, Steve fishes out his phone so he can speak directly into it, needing to feel as if he’s speaking to Tony and not the emptiness of their rooms. “Have you seen the news?”

“What?”

“There were some reporters when I got home just now. I gave them a statement… of sorts.”

“Steve…”

The crinkling sound of papers being shifted, then, the bland tone of a television presenter. It’s Steve’s turn to bite his lips, waiting for Tony to realise what he’s done. He hopes that his brash statement to the reporters was able to shift the focus of the news away from his husband.

Seconds pass. Leaving the flowers on the kitchen counter, Steve steps out onto the balcony, phone pressed to his ear, and he looks out over the city, eyes scanning the endless rows of buildings beneath him until they spot the slanted roofs of the old Roxxon Tower where Tony’s at right now, converting it into free housing. From this distance, even his enhanced vision can’t see Tony, but seeing the building helps him feel closer to his husband anyway.

Eventually, Tony clears his throat. When he speaks, his voice is equal parts emotion and laughter. “I love you.”

This time, when Steve says, “I know,” he drags the words out. Then, he adds, “come home quick before Clint tries to start the game without you.”

Tony laughs. “You’d stop him if I asked you to.”

“You don’t even have to ask,” Steve smiles up into the sky, the orange glow from the setting sun painting it in beautiful colors.

It’ll be a good night.

The Daily Bugle @dailybugle

UPDATE: Steve Stark-Rogers admits to polyamory? Check out our article on how Tony Stark is corrupting America, from his weapons of mass destruction to his controversial marriage: bug.le/34st90

8:43 PM - 12 May 2017

3.2K retweets 1.9K likes

Steve’s vision nearly goes red with rage, and it’s only Tony’s gentle, steadying hand on his shoulder that stops him from throwing his phone and marching down to the Bugle’s headquarters.

“Let me call their reporter, okay?” Tony smiles at Steve, a twinkle in his eye. “I love how you want to defend me, how you’d do anything to protect every part of me, but, please, let me be the one to do this.”

There’s nothing that Steve can’t deny Tony. He nods.

Sheepishly, he looks around at the rest of the team, the Monopoly board left forgotten between them as they, too, whip out their phones with tight faces and angry mutters. It hits Steve that he has no reason to be contrite about his rage – here, among the little family they’ve somehow managed to build despite board-game-induced fights and bickering about leftovers, Steve isn’t the only one who loves Tony.

“Okay,” Tony pulls up one of JARVIS’ screens, easily taking out the needed number from some server somewhere, “get ready, kids. I’m taking this bastard to town.”

“I never want to be on the other end of that call,” Steve hooks an arm around Tony’s hip, his heart doing a happy dance when Tony leans into his touch.

Blowing him a kiss, Tony reminds him, “better keep your wet socks off the floor then, sweetheart.”

The others groan about Mom and Dad.

Tony ignores them.

They were the ones who’d tried to get Steve hooked up with him in the first place. It isn’t Tony’s fault that he wins in everything, because, frankly, if anyone won anything in this arrangement, it was Tony.

And if anyone’s about to lose anything, it’s this bastard who dares to mess with Steve.

“No, no, you’re right,” Tony agrees easily, eyes never leaving his husband’s.

The reporter, who’s unwittingly been put on loudspeaker for all the Avengers to hear, sounds taken aback. “I’m right?”

“Well, sort of. You see, I don’t need a weapon of mass destruction to destroy America.”

“You admit to being able to ruin the country?”

“Oh, honey,” Tony’s voice dripping sarcasm and amusement, “I’m already a weapon of mass seduction. Just ask Captain America how thoroughly I’ve ruined him.”

“Mr Stark, you – ”

“Stark-Rogers.”

“Mr Stark-Rogers, then – ”

Tony shakes his head. “You know what? I better get back to ruining him.”

“Sir – ”

“Come back to bed, Tony,” Steve pretends to pout, dipping his voice low, and Bruce snorts, shaking, unable to quite keep his laughter at bay. How can anyone believe that Steve is an innocent man?

“See?” Tony tells the spluttering reporter, falling a little bit more in love with the beautiful, wonderful man he married, “duty calls.”

“No, wait – ”

“Stark Legal will be in touch. Better find a nice suit for the courtroom,” he sweetly drawls, relishing for another second in the other guy’s panic, and in the knowledge that Steve will be safe from their grubby, bigoted hands.

He ends the call to even more spluttering, much preferring to relish Steve’s touch, and the soft kiss planted on his lips.

“You have to make another public announcement,” Natasha muses later that night, pointing at Steve.

“Yes,” Bruce agrees, dropping back on the couch with a plate full of cake in his hands. He puts it down on the table, moving aside the empty cups to make space. “Right now, everyone is talking about your comment and not about the lies the reporters were spreading.”

Next to Steve, Tony shrugs, his shoulder bumping against Steve’s chest. “We don’t have to do anything. Making another statement would make it seem like we care about what they say.”

“I care if they keep dragging you through the mud,” Steve frowns. He tightens his hold around Tony’s hip, and his husband huffs.

“I’m pretty sure I scared the reporters off enough,” Tony reaches for a piece of cake, offering the first bite to Steve, who takes it happily, savoring the sweetness of it.

Clint rolls his eyes at them. “Give the public one video of you both like that and they’ll know to never say shit about you two.”

“True,” Natasha nods. “If they knew what we have to see – ”

“And hear,” Bruce adds around his mouthful of cake.

“And hear,” Natasha agrees, “every day and night, then they’ll be so tired of it they’ll just stop.”

In Steve’s defense, he’s not one to back down from an honest challenge. He knows when to pretend to be – as Tony would put it – the ‘aw shucks’ All-American pie boy, and he knows when he’ll happily get arrested for punching a bully. Or, in this case, when he’ll happily face Pepper’s very sharp heels for raising a media shitstorm.

He knows that people will listen to him. Often, he’ll be careful to not abuse the power of his image as Captain America, but this time, this time they’ve gone too far. Steve is acutely aware of Tony’s past, and he feels no small amount of guilt for his own misconceptions. ‘I know men worth ten of you’ still tastes bitter.

He needs everyone to know how wrong they are, how wrong he was, because this ridiculous, amazing, brilliant man he married is worth the universe.

“If you don’t like it, you know where the door is, you ungrateful peasant,” he hears Tony teasingly threaten. Even if their friends make faces and groan about them, Natasha is the first to come to Steve whenever he has an argument with Tony. The other Avengers say the only thing worse than hearing their sappiness is hearing their screaming matches. He’s been made aware that they have shifts and a plan of action every time an incident happens.

Natasha winks back at him. “And I know where you keep your giant bear.”

“Hey!” Tony protests, shifting to pin a half-hearted glare at her, “leave my darling girl alone.”

That gives Steve inspiration, and he feels a smile growing. “What about this? I make something about ten times my darling husband promised to marry someone else.”

Tony’s glare turns to Steve. There’s a smear of chocolate at the corner of Tony’s lips, and it takes away the fearsomeness of the look. He tips his head up, trying to attack Steve with the cake left in his hands. “I’ve never done tha – hey!”

Steve smirks, his mouth full of the cake he conquered. “Yesterday, you were going to run away to marry the new donut shop own – ”

“Yes, Steven, because then she’ll be obligated to give me her secret recipe.”

“Sure, and Nat makes a good point. What about the giant bear you sleep with?” Steve humors his husband, grinning at how Tony squawks indignantly.

“Friday is a perfectly beautiful bear. You were the one to win her for me,” Tony pouts, but it doesn’t last long. Steve crooks a brow at him. He relents. “Fine. But I don’t see how that would help.”

“Fight ridiculousness with ridiculousness,” Bruce shakes his head. Sometimes, it’s a wonder that they work so well on the field when their strategies off the field are haywire and laughable. To be fair, though, the people they face off the field are equally laughable, and it isn’t a bad strategy.

Steve reaches up to wipe the chocolate off Tony’s lips. “It will show them that you need more than a pretty face to leave me, and that Captain America couldn’t possibly compete with a donut recipe.”

Tony squints at him, lips quirking up. “Captain America couldn’t possibly compete,” he leans into his husband, “but Steve Rogers? That guy might stand a chance.”

“Well,” Steve takes out his phone, the lockscreen a picture of Tony covered in pink foam, “I appreciate the challenge.”

He searches for the right app, and waits for the keyboard to appear.

“Now, sweetheart, how many times did you propose to the coffee machine?”

They break the internet.

But they’ve done that too many times to keep count of.

“Want to break the internet some more?” Tony grins, stretching lazily, the blankets slipping down from his bare shoulders, pooling around his waist. He shifts around to lie his head in Steve’s lap, and Steve absentmindedly runs his hand through Tony’s tangled curls. His other hand holds his phone that’s blowing up with the endless messages he’s been reading out.

He puts it down soon enough, though, turning all his attention on Tony. “How?”

“Remember when you were drunk at our wedding party?” Tony grabs his other hand, meshing their fingers together and brushing his thumb over their rings. For a moment, Steve can’t think. He can only look at his husband, who continues to grin, “the picture you wanted to upload? I have it.”

Steve winces. He has some fuzzy memories of that. “Oh god.”

There’s not much that he’s embarrassed about, and he’s never going to be embarrassed about being in love with the man he’d marry a million times, but his tipsiness at that party is still fodder for the Avengers’ dinner stories. He makes a face at Tony, who happily sticks his tongue out at Steve.

“I’m posting that on our anniversary.”

“I thought you promised me an anniversary every day,” Steve teases, poking Tony’s nose, smiling at how his face scrunches up.

“You remember?”

Tony can’t help the note of surprise that slips into his voice. Every time Tony thinks he can’t possibly love Steve more, Steve decides to break all laws of probability.

“I don’t think I could forget anything about you.”

There it is again. Tony’s heart swells, growing more than he ever thought it could, full and brimming with so much that he needs to let it out, to show his husband that he loves him as much as Tony knows Steve loves him.

“Well then, honey,” he lifts Steve’s hand and presses a kiss against his ring, “sweetheart,” he leans up to kiss Steve’s temple, the corners of his eyes crinkling beneath Tony’s touch, “darling,” he kisses the arch of Steve’s cheek, “sunshine,” he kisses the tip of Steve’s nose, “beloved,” he kisses the corner of Steve’s lips, “happy anniversary.”

Steve drags Tony in, closer and closer until he can see the gold in Tony’s eyes and feel the warmth of Tony’s breaths. “I love you.”

“I should hope so,” Tony steals another kiss, “you married me, after all.”

“Yes, yes I did.” He pulls back to tuck Tony’s hair behind his ear, hand lingering on the curve of Tony’s jaw, marveling at the miracle that he’s allowed to hold, to touch, to cherish, this amazing, brilliant man.

He traces the dimple there, breathing out his question. “And guess what?”

“What?”

Steve smiles.

“Best decision of my life.”