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He’s really not a good judge of character. There’s Obie, for one. Christine Everhart. A whole lot more whose names and faces have faded over time. But it was true then, and it was true now, even when he thought he’d somehow learned his lesson. Because he thought he had Steve Rogers pegged down to the tee. Pompous, self-righteous and bane to his existence Steve Rogers. He was a wall. Immoveable. And was constantly getting on his way who is constantly in motion.
It wasn’t like he sought out to annoy the hell out of their “perfect” leader. But when he’s being his stubborn and immoveable self, it was just so easy—too easy for him to pick a fight and see what made the super soldier tick. In Steve’s mind, of course every little thing he picks on is justified. His rigid, uptight outlook on operations and how his teammates should act at all times is suffocating and frankly, not even that effective. So when he pushes, Tony pushes back even harder. Sometimes it’s just fun to rile Steve up. But other times, he really just wants to tell him to fuck off, shut the hell up and leave him alone.
And one day, after an intense battle that lasted for hours and leveled half a city, he did just that. He was tired, and sticky, and sick to his stomach because he could smell the wretchedly burning smell of flesh and the suffocating dark smoke and the destruction surrounding them. He wasn’t in the mood for one of Steve’s lectures.
“You are insufferable and a hypocrite. I did what I had to do, and you are just mad that I thought of that plan before you did. Why can’t you just leave me the fuck alone?!”
When Steve went silent for a moment, then told him, “okay” plainly, that should have been his first clue. He really was bad at judging people. And he really was very, very wrong about Steve Rogers.
He’d known Steve was a little shit. What he hadn’t known was how petty the super soldier was. It all started when he noticed during their next outing to save the world yet again, that Steve was not giving him any command. No, he wasn’t ignoring him. He told him things like location of enemies, or trapped civilians, or compromised structures. Whilst those reports used to be followed by direct orders—drag them out into the open; herding them won’t be fast enough, find a way to fly them off all at once; reinforcement on that building stat!—now they just end on that. Reports on comms and then nothing.
Again, it wasn’t like he wasn’t listening to him. When he informed them that he detected movement in a clearly hostile part of the area they were attacking, he only heard Cap reply, “okay”, and then that was it. He started barking off commands to Widow, Hawkeye, Wanda, even the junior agents who were manning the Quinjet, but he didn’t have anything for him. Which he greatly appreciated because he was able to clear the area quickly and efficiently, not having to worry about having a little koombayah moment before acting on it. At that moment he didn’t let it bother him. He knew he’ll have hell to pay for not letting Steve know what he was going to do or waiting for an instruction. That had been their MO from the beginning. He even braced himself as soon as he landed inside the Quinjet moments before they departed the now cleared area. But there was nothing. He found Steve stowing away his shield and easing off his gauntlets. When their eyes met, he got ready to bark back a stream of rebuttal, but Steve only smiled at him and said “good work out there.” Before he could stop himself, he ribbed the super soldier.
“What, no lecture today?”
Steve shook his head, still smiling.
“You were the best one to make that call, Tony. None of us had eyes on that area.”
And then he was gone to talk to Nat about whatever it is they always talk about. He thought about what luck he had that day!
Only it kept on happening. The next fight came. And Steve had no words for him again.
“I have eyes on the truck. They’re getting away,” he said, his body itching to just fly and stop the getaway vehicle by himself even though Hawkeye and Falcon were nearer.
“I can take them out,” he said. His comm crackled not a second later and Cap was giving out his instructions.
“Okay. Hawkeye, Falcon, give Ironman support. The rest circle back to help the survivors.”
It almost threw him off his game. Sure, he gave Tony support. But he never told Tony what to do. By the 15th time it happened, he was a bundle of nerves.
He found Steve murdering yet another punching bag in the gym.
“Out with it. What’s your deal?”
Steve looked at him, confused etched on his perfectly annoying face.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Tony snorted and clapped back.
“Of course you’re going to make me say it so I’m the bad guy you fucking arrogant prick—why have you not been giving me orders out in the field?! You command everyone, but you haven’t said two words to me—”
Steve’s brows furrowed.
“That’s not true. In fact, haven’t I been listening to you more?”
That stumped him.
“But—but,” he sputtered.
“Did you want me to give you orders?”
Fucking sonafabitch—
“I thought you hated it whenever I told you what to do. Besides, you’re right, your decisions are science and math-based and are almost always the right call. Letting you do what you need to do out there has increased our productivity by a huge number. Less damage, almost no casualties, and quicker turnabouts.” He said the last part with flourish, like he was so proud of the improved efficiencies.
“I kinda thought you’d be happy about it.”
He didn’t have an answer to that. So he huffed his chest, turned on his heel and left.
This arrangement continued and became the norm. But it didn’t stop him from feeling weird. Truth be told he kinda miss the banter. It was fun poking a non-reactive Steve. It also wasn’t fun not having anyone to argue with most of the time.
Of course that didn’t stop there. Because he’s Tony Stark and his luck is always one to go sideways, other things started popping up.
Like when he noticed that Steve was a touchy-feely troll. He always had a ready tap on the back, grip on shoulders, hugs for everyone—except, apparently, for him. He supposed it made sense for a guy who was frozen on ice to be touch starved. And it also made sense for said guy to be generous of his touches as well. And he was. Someone missed a shot? It’s okay! Here’s a comforting hug! Jubilant victory? Well, here’s more hugs to you! What’s that? Tony did a great thing? He got a nod. And a “good job, Tony.”
Having learned his lesson from the last time he confronted Steve, he tried a different approach this time. He cornered Nat instead after he saw her and Steve, lounging around on the sofa, his arms lazily draped around her shoulder. Nat scared him. And he never saw her as the type of person who easily allows anyone to touch her, much less be that comfortable with her. But there they were. So now he’s here.
“Soo, you and Steve?” he eased into it.
“What?”
“I saw you two being cozy in the living room.”
She gave him a weird look.
“What?” he shrugged, pretending nonchalance. “I’m just surprised. I didn’t know you two were that close.”
“He’s just mother-henning.”
“You mean giving lectures?”
She actually laughed this time. It gave him goosebumps.
“Despite of what you think, Steve is actually a great listener.”
He rolled his eyes at her.
“Oh come on! You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed?”
“Noticed what?” She smirked at him before shaking her head.
“You are daft.” She headed to the door but right before she stepped out she turned to him for a moment.
“He is listening to you, you know. The question is, have you been listening to him?”
He was still frowning to himself long after she was gone.
So, that was a bust too. But Steve’s fuckery was apparently on a roll because he was still reeling from that discovery when another one smacked him on his face.
He found Wanda making a sandwich. Now, his relationship with Wanda had always been, at best, civil. Too much guilt on her part and too much fear on his. He never liked people handing him things and she handed him all the ugly monsters in his head on a silver platter. Not a good first impression. But they managed to get past that. Really not much room to maneuver since Steve Rogers put his foot down and insisted they keep and nurture her. She’s the devil, Steve! Well, better the devil we know than one we don’t. She needs us to make sure she doesn’t stray from the right path again.
So he found her making a sandwich. And to alleviate some of the tension she offered to make him one, which, he didn’t object to because he actually was in the kitchen to find something to eat. But it turns out they are out of veggies. Tomatoes and lettuce. He was already pulling out his phone to put in an order for an expedient delivery of said items when Wanda smiled at him and said he doesn’t need to. They’ve been growing their vegetables for months now.
“Say what?”
“We have a garden,” she answered quite casually. “Well, technically it’s Steve’s garden but he told us we can take or add from it anytime.”
Ten minutes later they were standing in front of said garden. It wasn’t really big. But it was very house on the prairie he almost automatically started looking for a barn. Apparently, some months ago, Steve overheard Wanda and Clint complaining about their veggies going bad because half of the time no one is around to eat them, but they still arrive with the rest of their groceries anyway, and then the other half, no one actually eats them, because, and this is Tony’s personal belief, they are not worms. So, Clint mentioned it would be nice if they could just have a garden where they can pluck whatever they need when they need it so there wouldn’t be a lot of wastage.
Of course, Steve being the overstepping, overcompensating busybody that he is, took time to find them a plot of land, cultivate it, grow the basics, and then gift it to everyone who needs it. Ergo, they now have a garden. That he knew nothing about because no one bothered telling him.
Apparently Steve finds out what you need—and does something about it.
Except for him?
He wracked his brain for anything Steve might have done or given to him and he couldn’t think of any. Well, there was the ever-ready pot of coffee he’d find in the morning after he emerged from his workshop after endless hours of work, which only Steve could have prepared because he’s the only one awake at such an ungodly hour. But that was more for everyone (not for Steve cause he doesn’t drink any). Or when Steve initiates unauthorized lockdowns of his lab, apparently authorized by Pepper, whenever he’s been in there for more than 48 hours straight, but that’s mostly because of Pepper. So yeah, nothing for him.
Again, the little shit.
It all came to a head when Steve got injured after saving him from a rescue attempt.
“I don’t need your help, Cap!”
“Like hell you don’t! Get down—”
As it turned out, he actually did need Cap’s help. A short EMP disabled him for mere seconds but it was enough to cause him some kinda major problems. He swaggered a little, an enemy got a lock on him, and a nuke, a bit excessive if you ask him, was headed his way. If not for Cap’s quick thinking, quick action and just quick everything (Cap was on the rooftop of the building he was circling, he jumped—or flew, close to several hundred feet to catch Tony midair and clutched at him) he would have been fireworks in the sky and confetti on the ground before he could say Fuck. But instead he found himself safely tucked in Cap’s arms, his shield both around them, and the nuke hitting vibranium and exploding, debris miraculously missing both of them as they made a dashing freefall from 4,000 feet, until they hit the ground, himself still tucked safely in Cap’s arms, despite him being covered in metal, and Cap absorbing most of the impact.
He went back online. Cap didn’t get up immediately. He made a move to give him CPR but not a moment later Cap gasped and rolled over on his knees. The first thing he did was look at Tony, eyes burning with anger? Worry? Fear?
“Are you okay?!” he croaked like he wasn’t maybe dead seconds ago.
“I’m fine. You need a medic,” he cried at the man who is already getting up and refitting his shield on his arm.
“I’m good. But you need to go.”
“I’m not the one who needs to go! You’re not fine!!! You just freefell thousands of feet—you were not breathing a moment ago!?”
“Breathing now,” but even as he dragged himself back towards the building, he could see the laboured breathing and the wobble in his movement. He caught up to him and held his wrist tightly.
“You are going to medical. If I am going, then so are you.”
“I told you I’m fine.”
“Goddamit, Steve! Why are you being stubborn about this!”
His words fell on deaf ears. So he just kept talking.
“You are really such a fucking hypocrite, you know that? When it’s me making rash decisions like this and getting myself hurt you fucking throw a tantrum but when it’s you, it’s okay? You are fucking unbelievable!”
Steve stopped then and turned to him.
“I wasn’t making rash decisions. I was saving you. And since you’re okay then I’m okay, got it?”
Before he could even think of a reply, Steve was walking away again, leaving him gaping on his own.
So, apparently, Steve cared about him. But not enough to talk to him? Touch him unless it’s life threatening? Tell him about the little things that he seemed to freely offer the others? To do things for him to show he care? He knew that last one was a lie as soon as the thought came to him. Because Steve was doing things for him. He was just too stubborn and arrogant to notice.
It would be a few days after that incident before they talked about it. Well, before he found the courage to talk to Steve about it. Because apparently the “leaving Tony Stark alone” rule is still being implemented. He found him in his garden, of all places. He wasn’t gardening, thank goodness. But he had installed a bench near the edge, under a willow tree, which was giving him a toothache from being just so cliché. He was sketching.
Steve looked up from his sketchpad briefly when he noticed him approaching but he didn’t stop what he was doing. Which sort of irked him. Can’t he tell this is he’s trying his best here? After a moment, he actually did speak up, probably misinterpreting his inner monologue of being able to do this as idling.
“Is there something wrong?”
Of course he’d assume something was wrong. Why else would there be a need for them to talk? After all he’s done to keep distance, exclude him—not really but somehow that’s how it felt—from Steve’s daily life.
“Okay, whatever this shtick is, considered me punished. I’m good, okay? I’ve learned my lesson. Teamwork is important. No man is an island. I’ll do better with the team.”
Steve frowned at him.
“No one is punishing you, Tony.”
“Oh yeah? Not talking to me? Not addressing me or giving me orders like you used to? Or telling me about things like about this garden?! I mean what else are you hiding behind my back? And then—what about not touching me? Not in an inappropriate way! But just, not even a clap on my back. Even that agent who was caught sleeping on the job got a slap, A SLAP on his arm! I feel like I’m being ignored!”
He watched as the frown deepened on Steve’s face.
“I thought this was what you wanted?”
“What?!”
“You told me to leave you alone, well, not verbatim.” It took him a moment to remember when had that occurred and when he did, he was flummoxed.
“I said that in the heat of the moment!”
“That wasn’t the first or only time you’ve said those words to me, Tony.”
He watched as Steve looked away, a resigned expression on his face.
“To be honest, I’m really at a loss here. I don’t know how to make it work with you anymore. So I talked to Ms. Potts and Col. Rhodes, even Happy. I asked them about you—how you and I can be friends because believe it or not, I actually do want to be friends with you.”
“Why, because of my dad?” he spat. And there it was, the real reason he couldn’t ever see eye to eye with Steve. He reminded him too much of his father for whom he was never enough. For whom Captain America was the epitome of perfection.
The grimace on Steve’s face told him he thought otherwise.
“No! Tony, why would you think that? I want to be friends with you because of you! You’re one of the, if the not the most brilliant man in the world I’ve ever known. You act like the most careless, most arrogant person but I can see through the façade because you care, you care deeply for people, not just those you know but everyone around you. And you are brave, so brave, Tony! I can’t even begin to imagine what you’ve been through—”
“You’re one to talk,” he managed to interject but Steve wasn’t done.
“I am a soldier. What I’ve been through, it all comes with the territory. But you—if I haven’t said it before, I’ll say it now. You are amazing, Tony. And anyone who calls you their friend is very, very lucky. Something I could only wish for. So you see, I wasn’t punishing you or anything. I only thought I was doing what you wanted.”
Well that surely stumped him.
So yeah. Everything he thought he knew about Steve apparently was wrong. Very, very wrong.
“Tony?” he heard Steve’s whisper which then took him out his stupor. He looked at Steve, saw his confused look and without meaning to, walked away.
He made about five paces before he turned and walked back up to Steve who was still looking at him with that confused look.
“Do you mean it? Everything you said?”
“Of course.”
He thought for a moment. About what this meant. And he found himself feeling light. A lot lighter than he’s had in, well, in a really long time. So light that he started laughing. Joyous, filled with glee laughter that reverberated all around them.
Steve stared at him, still confused but now also partly worried.
“Are you okay?” he stammered. Tony looked at him and smiled.
“Are you sure?”
As he asked that, Steve’s hand automatically reached out—as if to touch him on his shoulder but stopped midway. He must have remembered what he’d been trying to do, which was to give Tony what he thought he wanted. But then therein lies the problem, doesn’t it? Everything between them was not all what it seems.
So in answer he closed the gap with between them and he himself reached both his hands and grabbed Steve by his shoulders.
“Yes, yes I am.”
And indeed, he was. He knows he and Steve have a lot to go through to make this friendship work, but he’s not so off put by it now.