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Pepper and Happy’s wedding was beautiful. It was an intimate church ceremony with family and friends and lots of joyful tears. They had spared no expense for the reception either, showcasing royal blue décor and the fanciest food Steve’s ever seen in his life. Steve was happy for his friends, he genuinely was. They’d found their happily ever after with each other.
They say that hate has been sent / So let loose the talk of love / Before they outlaw the kiss / Baby, give me one last hug
Still, as he watched the newly weds start their traditional first dance, and other couples began to join them on the open floor, it reminded Steve of the things that he wasn’t able to have: He wasn’t able to have his dance with Peggy, because of being frozen for seventy years. He wasn’t able to have that apple-pie lifestyle, because of his duties as an Avenger. He wasn’t able to even hold his boyfriend’s hand out in the open, because of his own fear of the public’s reaction.
There’s a dream that I’ve been chasing / Want so badly for it to be reality / And when you hold my hand / Then I understand / That it’s meant to be
Happy twirled Pepper around, and Clint laughed as he dipped Natasha low, and even Phil swayed in step with the cello player he’d brought as his plus-one. Steve must have had an awfully pained expression on his face without realizing because before he knew it, Tony was getting up from his seat beside him and extending a hand.
“Dance with me,” he requested, smiling at him softly. Tony’s brown eyes looked into his blues fondly, and Steve’s heart fluttered.
‘Cause, baby, when you’re with me / It’s like an angel came by / And took me to heaven / ‘Cause when I stare in your eyes / It couldn’t be better
He automatically reached out for his boyfriend’s hand, but then hesitated. Steve glanced around the reception hall nervously, seeing the vast majority of these strangers watching the other couples moving with the music – and staring curiously at the genius billionaire, now, as he stood.
“Tony, I…” Am not sure if I want people to know about us yet, he wanted to say, but didn’t. The blond settled with: “You know I can’t dance.”
“That’s fine. I’ve got rhythm enough for the both of us.” Tony grinned wider, still offering his hand. Steve recognized the determined fire burning behind Tony’s eyes as he inquired, “Do you trust me?”
There was no doubt in his mind. Steve had gone into battle with Tony, had exposed his darkest fears to Tony, had been willing to give his heart, body, and soul to Tony. Steve trusted Tony with every fiber of his being, and he let him know just as much by silently grasping his hand, letting the shorter man lead him out to a relatively empty area of the dance floor.
I’ve got my favorite girl / Not feeling no pain, no fear / Don’t have a care in the world / Why would I when you are here?
Steve felt his heart pounding against his rib cage, heard the blood rushing through his ears, as Tony raised their hands to the proper positions and began to move his feet. With wide eyes, Steve kept his head down as he tried to mirror the movements, swaying back and forth stiffly as the music continued. He kept his eyes trained on Tony’s fancy new Italian-brand dress shoes, hoping that he won’t accidentally scuff them, or maybe he was just trying to ignore the not-so-subtle whispers from the crowd.
He swallowed down the nerves in his voice, muttering under his breath, “Everyone’s staring at us.”
There was a teasing tone to the brunet’s voice as he replied, “Have you seen yourself? Frankly, I’m surprised more people haven’t already thrown themselves onto you tonight.”
“Tony,” Steve grumbled, frowning slightly. He felt heat rush to his cheeks. While he’d definitely gotten used to his old show-tour days and the more recent pressers with the team, Steve loathed feeling like an exposed nerve.
The hand Tony had at Steve’s waist slid around, and he rubbed the small of his back comfortingly. Carefully, he said, “Honey, look at me.”
Steve looked up to meet his boyfriend’s gaze gradually, the tension in his shoulders melting away upon seeing his dazzlingly reassuring smile. Tony pressed closer, reaching up momentarily to smooth out the crease between Steve’s brows. He shifted to rest his hands at the nape of Steve’s neck, thumbs caressing the skin peeking out just above his suit’s collar.
“I’ve got you,” Tony told him firmly. “I promise. Just focus on me.”
Let the music blast / We gon’ do our dance / Bring the doubters on / They don’t matter at all / ‘Cause this life’s too long / And this love’s too strong / So, baby, know for sure / That I’ll never let you go
A tingle ran under Steve’s skin, a warm feeling settling in his chest. Tony started singing along softly with the song, the corners of his mouth tugging up into a grin. Steve squashed the nerves in his stomach as he leaned forward to press their foreheads together, eyes falling shut with his lashes fanning over the tops of his cheeks.
With his eyes closed, it wasn’t hard for his senses to pinpoint on Tony and block out the rest of the room. The low rumble of his voice, the callouses of his palms at his neck, the smell of his cinnamon aftershave. Steve couldn’t help himself from hugging Tony at the hips, his body warm and solid between his hands. It was slow going, but soon enough, Steve didn’t care about anything else except for Tony.
So don’t fear / Don’t you worry about a thing / I am here, right here / Don’t shed a tear / Whenever you need me / I’ll be here
A sincere smile appeared on his lips, growing so wide that his cheeks started to hurt. “I love you,” Steve whispered quietly, just loud enough over the music for Tony to hear. The blond felt his eyes get misty as he looked at Tony, who had a matching expression on his face; Tony, who without even trying had given Steve something that he thought he could never have.
The brunet carded his fingers through Steve’s locks before resting to cup his cheek, scanning over his face with equally shining eyes. “I love you, too, ya big sap,” he sighed lovingly, brushing the pad of his thumb across Steve’s lip before pulling him in for a kiss.
Steve would pretend he didn’t hear Clint whoop victoriously from across the dance floor, or hear Pepper shout out, “Fucking finally!”
