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Tony Stark was once used to getting everything he wanted. After all, he had the looks, he had the brains, he had the money. The vices he clung to in his youth had given him quite the reputation. Even before his parents died, Tony was the poster child for unbelievably horrible ideas, yet wildly satisfying night-outs. He had lived life like nobody was watching, despite a million eyes charting every move.
It was Obadiah Stane that saved his ass more times than he could count, always with the warning: “You’ve got to do better, son.”
Tony Stark had thought that he had everything he wanted. However, the botched attempt to kidnap him after a missile demonstration in Afghanistan had finally given him – well – a new perspective. He followed Obie’s advice and decided to do better. After divesting from weapons manufacturing and pivoting towards clean energy, things had started to look up again towards the end of 2008.
He had fallen madly in love with his assistant, Pepper Potts. They worked on drafting proposals for the first clean energy-powered structure in Manhattan. They had gotten married. Within the year, they had a kid on the way, and that in itself kept Tony excitedly on his toes over the course of nine months.
It was Pepper that squashed his anxieties during the baby shower when he started to doubt himself as a soon-to-be father, smiling proudly as she said: “You are nothing like your dad, honey. I know you’re going to be so much better than him.”
When Morgan was born, it was the first time in Tony’s thirty-nine years of life that he genuinely felt like he had everything. He had a wonderful wife that he adored and a beautiful baby girl that he’d die for. For a short two days, they basked in the ecstatic happiness and affectionate tears and inexplicable joy that surrounded their little family.
Two days later, Pepper had gotten sick. She was sent home from the hospital with antibiotics and ibuprofen. It was another two days after that where Tony found himself begging the stupid doctors to save his wife’s life because they’d misdiagnosed her symptoms of sepsis. He was shoved into the hallway when they rushed Pepper to the OR, and the wracking sobs finally pushed past the shock blanketing around him when he saw his daughter tucked safely in the crook of Happy Hogan’s arms, sitting alone in the private waiting room.
Tony Stark had lost nearly everything that mattered to him when Pepper died. The world had gotten a lot duller, a lot darker. She left behind a gaping hole in his chest that was the shape of her; left behind a grieving widow and their seven-day-old daughter. He wanted to drown his sorrows in booze, like he would have once upon a time, but he had made his wife a promise that he didn’t plan on breaking any time soon.
Things never got easier as time went on, not really, but they were manageable. Tony was there for Morgan just like she was there for him, even if his baby girl would never realize it. She was the reason he got up in the mornings, after they finally lay Pepper to rest. She was the reason he suffered through meetings and conferences, so he could go home earlier in the day. She was the reason he continued to live, because he loved her so damn much and wanted to give her the world.
Nobody would argue that Morgan was the light of his life. Because of that, by the time she had started school, everyone half-expected her to be another spoiled, rich kid. It was to everyone’s surprise when she wasn’t, despite being the daughter of the man running Stark Industries. To Tony, being a better father than his own meant keeping Morgan’s feet on the ground as much as he could (and, though they’d vehemently deny it, Obie and Rhodey were the ones that truly spoiled her the most).
There was one thing that Tony kept working towards over the years, in between balancing company R&D projects and raising his three-year-old daughter: that pipedream of a clean energy building that he and Pepper once imagined. It was the last thing they’d really worked on together, and damn him if he didn’t try to make it a reality. In early 2012, he had purchased the MetLife building on 200 Park Avenue.
It was also when he met the project’s lead architect for the first time. He was tall, blond, and unfairly good-looking, with a tight-gripped handshake that Tony very much appreciated (there was nothing worse than getting dead-fished, and that was stemming from years of less-than-stellar introductions. Eat your heart out, Justin Hammer). Despite being Tony’s junior by ten years, the guy pitched his ideas and sketches with the confidence of Frank Gehry, like he designed the freaking Guggenheim or something.
In those first few months of developing what would eventually become Stark Tower, Tony spent a lot of time working closely with the design team – which also meant working intimately with his architect. People wouldn’t think it just by looking at him, but Steve Rogers was a genius in his own right. He may have looked like the stereotypical “bro” from a college fraternity who focused his attention on too much football, but his mind really spoke for itself. Steve had the eye of an artist, was jarringly intelligent, and also quick as a whip with rebutting Tony’s sarcastic one-liners.
Interacting with Steve was refreshing. He and Tony had clicked almost immediately, developing an easy shorthand as they worked throughout the project, falling into profound conversations whenever they would schedule for lunch meetings – for business purposes only, obviously. Things were strictly professional between them, and anyway, it wasn’t like Tony was ever excited to see Steve.
Or got butterflies in his stomach whenever Steve would smile at him. Or stared at Steve’s hands for far too long whenever he’d talk animatedly with the contractors and engineers. Or treated Steve to coffees and pastries every time he’d drop by the tower as it was under construction.
Tony most definitely did not spend nearly a year and a half drawn in so intensely towards Steve, only to guilt-trip himself over even considering moving on after Pepper. Because if he did, it would make the annoyingly perceptive look on James Rhodes’s face seem a lot less smug.
“You like him,” Rhodey said in awe, leaning against the desk in Tony’s new, just-finished office situated on the seventy-eighth floor.
“Of course I like Steve,” he responded. Tony managed to school his expression into one of nonchalance, but he couldn’t quite hide the heat that burned in his cheeks. “We wouldn’t have been able to work on building this tower if I didn’t like him.”
The corners of Rhodey’s mouth curled up into a smirk as he pushed, “But you like him. I can see it, plain as day. Steve is your type.”
Tony frowned as he threw an annoyed look to his best friend. At Rhodey’s quirked brow, he averted his eyes, leaning back into the large office chair. “I don’t have a type,” he said not unconvincingly.
“Yeah, you do. Smart, attractive, challenges you intellectually,” Rhodey mentioned as he began counting on his fingers, “isn’t afraid to dish out what’s served by the likes of you, and he’s got those baby blues –”
“Azure blues,” Tony corrected absentmindedly, “but I see your point.”
Rhodey remained silent for a few moments longer, staring. “I don’t… even know what ‘azure’ is.” Shaking his head, he finished, “Still. You like him. You’re compatible. Ask him out.”
When Tony glanced back, he looked at Rhodey like he was trying to decode the very words that had just come from his mouth. “Who are you, and what have you done with my Platypus?”
“Oh, come on.”
“Aren’t you supposed to tell me, ‘No, Tony, you can’t ask out your employees’? Or how about, ‘This is such a bad idea, don’t do it’?”
Rhodey rolled his eyes, shrugging his shoulders. “Hey, not like you listened to me last time, either. You ended up marrying Pepper, after all.”
Tony straightened up at that, eyes flickering briefly to the framed photograph of Pepper and a day-old Morgan that sat at the corner of his desk. The glance must not have been as brief as he thought, because Rhodey’s eyes softened with what Tony could only describe as a resigned understanding.
“Ah, there it is.” His head tilted to the side, considering. “You don’t think you’re ready.”
“It’s not –” Tony cleared his throat, wincing at the sound of his voice. He bit the inside of his cheek. “Not about that.”
Softly, Rhodey pointed out, “You haven’t gone on a date with anyone in almost five years, Tones.”
“So?” Tony shot back almost defensively. “I can date if I wanted to.”
“Then why, after two years of eye-fucking the guy, have you yet to climb that Adonis of a man like a goddamn tree?”
And when there was no response from the rarely speechless Tony Stark, he nodded pointedly: “Thought so.”
“I didn’t even say anything!”
“Well, you need to say something to Steve, sooner or later.” And Rhodey was right – fuck, he hated admitting that.
In the end, Tony finally managed to pull his head out of his ass the night of the Stark Tower’s grand opening. Well, after he had picked up his jaw from the floor upon seeing Steve in a fitted suit that looked absolutely sinful on his body.
It was two hours into the celebration, two hours of schmoozing and mingling with faces he couldn’t link names to, before Tony found Steve again alone outside on the balcony. The blond had turned his head to the door when it opened, the music and chatter seeping out into the noiseless night.
“Hey, you,” Steve said in greeting. “What are you doing out here?”
“I was about to ask you the same question.” Tony snorted a laugh, letting the glass door shut behind him. “For a second there, I thought you’d dipped out on me.”
“I wouldn’t dare,” Steve teased, shooting him a lopsided grin that made Tony’s heart stutter in his chest. He combed his fingers through blond locks, adding, “Just needed a breather.”
The two of them stood at the railing in a companionable silence, overlooking the other brightly lit skyscrapers and the never-ending lines of red taillights dotting the streets below. From this height, Tony could just barely hear the honking horns of the cars. It was quiet, peaceful even, in the little space that he and Steve made for themselves.
Tony couldn’t help from watching Steve out of the corner of his eye. Tracing the contours of his profile with his gaze – over his combed-back hair, his long eyelashes, his perfectly imperfect nose, his full lips, his cut jawline.
His mouth was moving before he could even think to stop it: “Let me ask you something.”
Blue eyes met browns, and Tony’s knees very nearly buckled under him. Steve gave him a small, private smile. “Yeah, shoot.”
Tony swallowed, taking a breath to calm the nerves dancing under his skin. “So, since the project’s finally over, and we’re about ready to cut the last check, I – uh – well – this’d be totally harmless. Probably. Maybe.
“I mean, you’re you and I’m me, obviously,” Tony babbled on, “and things could be weird if you were still under my employment because of some preconceived notion of power imbalances, right, and I’ve most definitely gone down that route before – single father now and all…”
A crease appeared between Steve’s brows as he listened to the continuous rambling, but an amused smile tugged on his lips. Oh, God. Tony didn’t expect to get this far. He should’ve planned out what he was going to say. What was he going to say?
“And – listen, I don’t do feelings for just anyone, especially with my laundry list of character defects, and now I’m really trying to stay objective here, but Rhodey kept pushing me to do some tree-climbing because –”
“Tony,” Steve cut in softly, reaching forward hesitantly to ghost his fingertips along his bearded jaw. A slight grin appeared as their eyes locked, wide and searching. “Shut up.”
The soft touch of Steve’s mouth on his sent tingles from his lips and ripples under his skin. It didn’t take more than a second for him to lean into the kiss, gripping at his tie as he breathed him in. He felt the curve of Steve’s lips as he licked at the seam, groaning when their tongues brushed against each other.
Tony could hear his heart pumping blood through his ears, the rhythmic thumps very nearly going Steve-Steve, Steve-Steve, Steve-Steve.
Breathless and increasingly lust-drunk, they pulled a hair’s breadth away from each other. Steve huffed out a laugh, moving his hand to cup Tony’s chin. “You talk a lot when you’re nervous, did you know?”
His skin felt electrified, traveling from his forearms up to his scalp. Tony’s words were barely a whisper as he asked, worrying his lip between his teeth, “Totally harmless?”
Steve responded by dipping his head down once again, leaving short pecks to Tony’s lips. “If you’re willing to put your trust in me,” he muttered against his mouth.
“How do I know you don’t only want me for my money?”
“How do I know you don’t only want me for my body?” There was a teasing shine in Steve’s blue eyes, a cute crinkle of his nose as he once again donned that swoon-worthy grin.
“Touché.” Tony’s mouth twisted in the way it always did when he tried to hide a smile.
Being with Steve was easy. God, it was so easy. Sometimes it was too good to be true, because they understood each other in ways no one ever had, especially with how demanding both of their jobs were. Sometimes the effortlessness of their relatively new relationship scared Tony a little, but then Steve would be there with his praises and reassurances and mind-blowing sex, and it was like all was right in the world.
Of course, it didn’t start out that way. Even though they had bypassed the getting-to-know-each-other stage thanks to their two-year working relationship, Tony had taken his time with really letting Steve in, of letting him see the insecurities (from dating someone significantly younger than him) and the scars (from Afghanistan) and the trauma (from losing his wife).
In spite of (or, maybe even, because of) everything, Steve stayed with him.
The two of them were lazing about in Steve’s apartment on Halloween morning, their limbs tangled as they lounged on the couch and watched The Addams Family marathoning on the television. Tony’s self-doubt was running rampant again as he observed Gomez and Morticia on screen, yet Steve knew just what to say to make him feel better.
“I’m a mess,” Tony had told him, pouting slightly.
“So am I,” Steve had said reassuringly, linking their hands together.
“But, honey, you could do so much better than me.”
His head snapped up at that, and he looked so hurt that it made Tony’s heart ache. “Babe, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Steve shifted, pushing himself up so he could be level with his boyfriend. He held Tony’s face in both hands, looking him right in the eyes as he said, “Anthony Stark, you are the most selfless partner and the most dedicated father. You better chase those pesky demons outta your head before I punch ‘em out.”
“Must you always threaten to resolve things with violence?” Tony retorted, poking Steve in the ribs as he chuckled, which earned him a roll of the eye. The laughter died in his throat as something new started nagging him in the back of his head.
“What is it?” Steve asked eventually, as if reading his expression like an open book.
He frowned. There were so many things he wanted to say, so many little shortcomings that had been bothering him over the last few months. He settled with: “How can you say all that when I haven’t even introduced you to Morgan yet?”
Steve let out a soft sigh, the corners of his mouth curving up into a smile. “It’s the fact you haven’t introduced us yet that shows me that you are serious about this – about us.” He caressed Tony’s cheek with his thumb, relaying, “Your daughter means the world to you, and I know I’d just as easily adore her too. But I told you from the start, I trust your judgment. There’s no pressure.”
Regarding him with a look of absolute adoration, his brows drew up as Tony fought back the instinct to cry. A lump formed in his throat, and tears found their way into his eyes, and a warm and contented buzzing settled in his chest.
Tony Stark realized then that he loved Steve Rogers. Loves him. It was like the near-constant hollowness in his chest was being filled by that feeling, a shiny new thing that flickered a light in the darkness. The world had gotten a little brighter in that moment. If Morgan was the sun, then Steve was the moon, and he wanted to drown in the oceans that were the color of his eyes.
“Speaking of Morgan, don’t you need to pick her up in half an hour?” Steve asked, pulling Tony from his silent reverie.
“School doesn’t let out ‘til two o’clock,” he replied with a shake of the head.
“It’s Friday.”
It was, indeed, Friday.
Wait.
Oh, shit.
“It’s Friday!” Tony shouted, eyes going wide as he almost tripped over himself getting to his feet. He snatched his denim jacket from the back of a chair, making a beeline to the front door where he’d taken his shoes off. “Thanks for reminding me – fuck, I am so late – which PTA mom had the brilliant idea to have a half-day anyway? I’m going to have words.”
Steve watched from the couch, amusement painting his features as Tony shuffled to the kitchen counter to grab his wallet and car keys. Tony was already halfway out the door when his boyfriend called out, “Drive safe! Love you!”
He froze in the doorway with a hand on the knob. Tony turned back into the apartment, found Steve’s gaze, and then smiled. “There’s a… neighborhood thing, later,” he said, waving a hand with clinking keys. “Trick-or-treating. Why don’t you come with us?”
It was neutral ground. An open invitation. I trust you. I want you to meet my daughter hung softly in the air. Surprise and wonder and awe appeared on Steve’s face all at once, before relaxing into affection. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Wear a costume.” Tony beamed, taking one step out of the threshold before adding, “I love you too. Five o’clock. Don’t be late!”
Tony and Morgan had left the tower on their own, meeting up with her classmates and their parents in the neighborhood around their school, because Steve was late.
Steve was never late. Being late was Tony’s shtick. Keeping an eye on Morgan and her friend Peter as they ran along the sidewalk, collecting their candy hauls like little gremlins, helped Tony stay distracted. Still, when Steve had sent him a cryptic Got stuck. Running late. Send me your location, it sent his thoughts on a train that was slowly derailing from its tracks.
Morgan was tugging on his shirt urgently, and he looked down at her almost buzzing on her toes. “Daddy, look! That guy’s dressed like Captain America!”
And Tony turned around, catching sight of a tall man wearing an impeccably made costume from one of the superhero movies his daughter was obsessed with. The man raised a gloved hand, and it was only then that Tony realized – blond hair, blue eyes, bright smile – that apparently he loved seeing Steve in any kind of suit. (Even if it did make Tony’s fake vampire teeth and heavy cloak look like he bought it from a Wal-Mart.)
He strode up to them with the confidence that only Captain America’s uniform could bring, stopping a comfortable space away. “I’m so sorry I’m late,” Steve said apologetically, smiling ruefully. “The costume was a little harder to get on into than I thought.”
Ah. Got stuck. He’d meant it literally. Tony’s brows shot up in surprise, and he mentally patted himself on the back for not letting the chuckle slip out of his mouth. He cleared his throat instead, fighting a smirk. “Well. I’m glad you could finally join us, Captain,” Tony teased, resting a hand on his daughter’s shoulder.
Steve’s gaze immediately lowered to where Morgan stood, half-hiding behind Tony’s cloak. The five-year-old was dressed to the nines in the coolest astronaut costume Tony could find. He looked at Tony hopefully, a silent question in his eyes.
“Hey, Maguna,” Tony started, tucking a loose lock of hair behind her ear. “This is Steve. He’s Daddy’s friend from work. He helped build our new tower, isn’t that cool?”
Morgan offered a small wave, smiling shyly. “Hi, Mr. Steve.” Tony wondered if the shyness was more from meeting somebody new, or the fact that her favorite superhero was standing right in front of her. The excited look in her eyes told him it was the latter.
And then, Steve did something that Tony never would have expected. He kneeled down on the sidewalk, leaning an elbow on one knee as he got to Morgan’s eye-level. Steve looked at her like she was his only focus, the smile on his face warm, inviting. “Hey, little miss. What you got there?” he asked with a lilt in his voice, motioning to the jack-o-lantern bucket in her hands.
“Halloween candy,” Morgan responded thoughtfully, shifting it in front of her for Steve to see. She shoved her hand into its contents, searching around until she pulled out – “And a toothbrush!”
“No way! Who gives out toothbrushes for Halloween?”
Morgan leaned forward conspiringly, saying in a stage whisper, “I think Daddy snuck it in when I was trading M&M’s with my friend Peter.”
“I’ll make sure to keep my eye on your dad, then,” Steve joked. “More room for candy, less room for dental hygiene.”
Steve’s smile widened into a grin, and he laughed as Morgan giggled into her hand. Tony couldn’t even find it himself to be mock-offended, because he was trying too hard to blink back the happy tears that blurred his vision. When his eyes met Steve’s, his heart soared, and all the little insecurities he’d had about his two worlds melding together went away.
“Mr. Steve, you should stay and do trick-or-treating with us!” Morgan said excitedly. “Daddy needs someone to talk to. He says the Midtown housewives get on his nerves sometimes.”
Tony sputtered, jaw dropping in shock. “Morgan!”
Steve snorted out a laugh before pursing his lips together. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep your dad company.”
Morgan turned to Tony, looking up with wide eyes and a broad smile. “Daddy, can I go catch up to Peter and May?” she asked sweetly, as if she hadn’t just thrown him under a bus.
“Yes, baby, but don’t – run.” Morgan was running down the path before he could finish, hustling up to her classmate and his aunt who were two houses down. He watched her like a hawk, praying she wouldn’t trip as she went.
When Steve planted his feet under him again, Tony noticed that he was looking after her too. He reached his hand out, finding Steve’s and squeezing. There were so many words just at the tip of his tongue, but nothing more conveyed his feelings more than: “Thank you.”
Steve returned his smile, bringing their intertwined hands together and placing a soft kiss to the back of Tony’s. He could feel his heart swell as his loving boyfriend said, “Any time.”
