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“Are you dating Bucky?”
Tony stops, halfway into pouring himself a coffee, taken aback by the sudden interruption. Steve can’t see his face, but by now, he knows Tony’s body language like the palm of his hand - he’s looked long enough at him to learn, against his better judgment. He can see the stiffness in his shoulders, and he knows it means defensiveness. Steve’s jaw clenches in displeasure, hating that he is the one to cause the distress in the first place.
But he has to ask.
When Tony turns around it’s slow, calculated, his expression infuriatingly neutral and eyes as cold as Steve’s nightmares.
“What?” He asks, with a little edge of something dangerous lurking right beneath.
“Are you dating Bucky?” Steve repeats, struggling to keep himself calm. “I’m just asking.”
“Why are you asking?” Tony retorts, full of caution.
“You know why I’m asking.”
“Actually, I don’t.” Tony puts the mug down, setting it aside, and Steve knows he’s treading on dangerous waters here. “Not like it’s any of your business, who Barnes dates or not. Or who I date, for that matter.”
“I just-” Steve stops, recognizing he’s getting too anxious and forceful, and he needs to take in a deep breath and control his tone before he can offend Tony. “Pepper said you’re going to the gala together. You and him.”
Tony raises an eyebrow, surprised. “Since when do you talk to Pepper?”
“Ever since I moved in.” I, not we, because Steve won’t pretend this is about anyone but himself. He can at least be honest about that. “I not gonna say you can’t date him. You can. I wouldn’t stop you. You know that.”
“Then why are you asking?”
“Because I need to know.” Steve insists, angry, angry at himself, because if he were a better man he would let this go, he wouldn’t have even thought of cornering Tony like this, but he’s not, he’s weak and he’s a masochist, and he needs to hear Tony say it, or else he won’t be able to sleep. “I need to know, Tony, and that’s why I’m asking you, because I won’t go behind your back and break your trust. Not-”
“Not again?”
Steve pauses.
“Yes.”
“Why me?” Tony shrugs, but not nonchalantly - daring, mocking. “You could ask Bucky. Why are you asking me?”
“You know why.”
This time, Tony’s mouth clicks shut.
Because it’s true, isn’t it?
They both know why.
“If you say you are, I’ll back off.” Steve promises him, because he has nothing else to offer, really. This is a losing battle. He knows it. Usually, he would fight tooth and nail until the bitter end, until blood flooded his mouth and his body ached with cuts and wounds, but this is not a battlefield, and Tony is not an enemy.
Steve doesn’t know how to win this because Tony is the one thing Steve is unable to defend himself from.
“I promise.” He says. “You don’t have to worry about me being…”
“Jealous?” Tony asks, but his voice is disbelieving. It’s fair - Steve is jealous. What would be the point of pretending he’s not?
“Against it.” He offers instead. “I won’t cause any trouble. I wouldn’t do that to you two. I just… I just wanna know.”
Tony takes in a deep breath, and looks away. His coffee, on the counter, slowly goes cold.
“We went on a date.” He admits, quietly, and suddenly, Steve’s entire body goes cold.
“And?” He asks, hesitantly.
“And that was it.” Tony makes a resigned face. “It was one date.”
“But you’re going to the gala together.”
Tony gives him a cautious look. “I didn’t say it was a bad date.”
“Ok.”
“Steve.” Tony starts. “I-”
But then he stops. He turns around, grabs his coffee, and only then realizes it’s gone cold, like Steve had moments before. He had completely forgotten it, Steve realizes. So unlike him. Tony clicks his tongue, annoyed, almost a little too harshly, and he dumps it all in the sink, giving up completely on his dose of caffeine.
Steve feels like he’s balancing on a tightrope, and below him, there is only an abyss. The silence between them has never felt so suffocating.
“We should talk about this.” Tony says, still looking down, reluctant to face Steve’s gaze.
“I won’t pry, Tony.” Steve assures him, even though it hurts his throat and chest to even say the words, let alone attempting to convince his heart that that’s it, he’s gotten his response, and now he should back off. “I told you. I just wanted to know.”
“So you’d know if you still had a chance?” Tony says, in a voice that’s almost an accusation, raw and wounded, with a jagged edge of a plea.
Steve wants it to be a plea. He doesn’t want Tony to hurt, but he desperately wants it to be true that deep down, maybe somewhere in his heart, Tony still has in him the mercy to give Steve one more shot.
“What if I said yes?” Steve asks, in a leap of faith, laying down his feelings like he’s prying open his chest open with a crowbar. “Would you give me that chance?”
Tony finally, finally raises his eyes to look at him.
His eyes are bright, shiny. Wild.
“Maybe.”
Maybe.
That is enough for Steve’s treacherous, foolish, foolish heart.