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Stupid Love
Steve opened his door and blinked. It was early in the morning, the sun had not yet risen over the New York skyline due to February’s long and cold nights and while it was not unusual for some of the other Avenger’s to be awake, they were usually in a more zombie-like state by this hour. Their state of wakefulness was usually due to an inability to sleep, or in Tony’s case a project that he couldn’t bear to take his hands away from. A small smile spread across his face as the thought brought to mind an image of Tony, cranky and sleepy and blindly searching for a coffee that Steve always had at the ready. He rarely got a thank you if Tony had been up all night, usually just a grunt or some incomprehensible mumbling about scientific matters that went right over Steve’s head. It didn’t matter though, Tony could probably snub the act a million times and Steve would still have coffee ready, hot and just the way he liked it.
Steve however, actually chose to wake up at this time, much to the mild disgust of his teammates in order to give himself time for a run long enough that it would actually feel like he exerted himself. The thought snapped him out of his daydreaming, and he shook his head, feeling his face grow a little hot. Thinking of Tony that way was ridiculous, especially when he knew the man wouldn’t give him the time of day. However, by the looks of what was on his doorstep, somebody sure wanted to give Steve the time of day.
He crouched down and picked up the offerings, his smile spreading as he considered the gifts. The first was a stuffed bear coloured like Captain America. It was horribly tacky and Steve loved it. A bag of his favourite candy sat next to it, and finally a single red rose. It made his heart warm to think that one of his teammates must have left this here, that they even remembered his favourite candy. They were old-fashioned, like the rest of him maybe, but he couldn’t help it. Candy had been such a rarity when he was growing up, never something that they could afford and inevitably something that became even harder to source during war time. He remembered Bucky encouraging him to have an exaggerated coughing fit outside a sweet shop back when they were eight or nine, remembered how Bucky looked at the shop-keep wide eyed and innocent and sad in the saddest little voice. “Sorry for the disturbance Sir, he doesn’t have long left. He just wanted to look s’all.” It had been the first caramel cream and he’d never forgotten the taste as Bucky and he shared the little bag.
Maybe it was just the memory, but damn did they taste better than anything else.
As he opened the bag to take one out, he noticed that there was a white card taped to the rose that he hadn’t noticed before. He had assumed it was just an anonymous friendly gesture, one of his teammates wanting Steve to have something. It was Valentine’s Day after all, and Steve would bet that he was one of the few Avengers that didn’t have a date or other plans. He had been decidedly ignoring the thought of which pretty dame Tony would take out for a while. That all changed though when he read the note. Steve froze, almost dropping the bag of candy despite his reflexes. He stared, reading it over and over again to make sure that he hadn’t gotten it wrong. There, in a chicken scratch that had become all too familiar to him over the past two years:
I know you were in the ice for a while, but I bet I can still melt your heart. Be my Valentine? – T
Thoughts of a morning run flew out his head completely as he gathered all his items and fled back inside of his quarters, slamming the door as if somebody were going to appear and snatch them out his hands. Or worse, one of the Avengers was going to appear to laugh at his stupid face and the whole thing would turn out to be a prank. After all, everybody and their Mother knew about Steve’s feelings for Tony. It was like Nat said, he wouldn’t have lasted five minutes as a spy with what an awful liar he was. Steve had always worn his heart on his sleeve, and he had never been ashamed of that, but it was damned inconvenient when he was desperately trying to hide the fact that he was madly in love with his best friend. His teammates teased him about it all the time, trying to goad Steve into finally making a move, insisting that he was being ridiculous, but Steve knew better. Even the press seemed to know, publishing a long series of articles on how Steve and Tony always seemed to be spotted together and looking at the pictures…
Steve squeezed his eyes shut tightly and took a deep breath. It was the pictures he hated the most. The ones that some pap stole of them in their special booth in their favourite diner, of the two of them in terrible incognito outfits at a Mets game so they could enjoy it “properly” within the crowd, or the two of them walking together through some museum or gallery or other. They were so horribly intimate, Steve leaned over the table slightly and clinging onto every word, Steve staring at Tony while he screamed and cheered for a home run (after declaring baseball was a boring, pointless sport), Steve’s hand on Tony’s lower back as he guided him toward his favourite painting. Any idiot could take one look at those photos and see how embarrassingly, obviously, desperately in love with Tony he really was. In love with a man who was so many million leagues above his own that it was hilarious.
If Tony had noticed his feelings (and Steve refused to believe that a man as painfully clever as Tony hadn’t) then he had never said anything. Until now, he supposed.
Until now.
Steve opened his eyes and strengthened his resolve. He stared at the items and thought carefully. A teddy bear, his favourite candy, a rose. It was sort of understated for Tony if he was being honest. It didn’t quite live up to what he imagined when he dared let himself escape to that daydream where Tony loved him back. With how dramatic Tony was about the tiniest of things, he always imagined something crazy like fireworks, or writing in the sky, or a trip to Paris or something equally ridiculous. After all, it was only last night over dinner with the team that they had been sharing stupid relationship experiences, inspired by Valentine’s Day’s looming presence, and Tony had told them all about the twenty-foot bunny that he had got for Pepper once and how she’d despised it.
It wasn’t that he was disappointed of course, how could he be? He was just a little… surprised. And not being here in person didn’t really seem like Tony’s style either. For the man who couldn’t even keep it to himself that he was Iron Man for longer than about five minutes, it seemed out of character. Tony had certainly never been afraid to tell Steve exactly what he thought of him in the past, after all. Perhaps it was for his sake? After all, Steve was a quiet man, understated and private in a way that Tony wasn’t. Maybe he thought that a huge public display was something that Steve would hate, and maybe he was just giving Steve some time to process and plan a response? Yes, that must be it. Tony just knew him far too well. Putting a lot of pressure on things would surely be a mistake.
Steve could certainly understand that. The fact that they were both Avengers was definitely one of the important reasons that Steve had decided to keep his feelings locked away instead of coming clean to Tony. Their relationship had always been fragile, rocky, easily combustible in a way that it wasn’t with anyone else on the team. It took almost six months for them to be able to stay in the same room for an hour without a room-shaking argument breaking out between the two of them. They had always been able to bring out the worst in one another, get under each other’s skin and dig their claws into where it would hurt the most. Tony was just able to set Steve off, strip away all his hard earned and carefully maintained patience like it was nothing. It meant that even when Steve ‘won’ the argument, he left feeling like he lost.
It was impossible not to see the good in Tony though.
Steve had always been good at seeing the good parts of people. Tony did his best to make it difficult, to hide how much he cared. To hide concern and hurt and anything that resembled compassion between quips and jokes and sarcasm, but how he showed it in the way that every stitch of Steve’s suit was perfect, how every time he received it back, it was just a little bit safer. Steve saw it in the way that Tony was involved in the Maria Stark foundation more than anyone would have imagined, how he actually attended the STEM camps for underprivileged children and how he constantly worked hand in hand with medical professionals on his own dime to utilise arc reactor tech for medical technology. Steve saw it in the way that Tony would coincidentally be up at the same time as him on the nights where the ice wouldn’t leave his skin, the way he happened to be making Jarvis’ special hot chocolate recipe and supposed he had enough for two, “since you’re already here.” In the way that Tony talked crap about Bruce’s tea non-stop but knew every flavour and what it meant about the man’s mood, in the way he took Natasha to the ballet, in the way he let Thor put dents in the armour on bad days, in the way he always had time to help Clint with his trick arrows, no matter how busy he was.
Steve saw goodness in everything Tony did, because Tony was good. Falling in love was him was never a choice, not really. Steve’s heart had belonged to that bastard since the minute he walked onto that helicarrier, and there wasn’t a damn thing that he could have done about it.
Be my Valentine?
He squeezed the stuffed bear tightly and set his jaw. All he had to do now was show that much to Tony, and he knew exactly how to do it.
A few hours later, Steve strolled onto the common floor with a proud smile on his face and a skip in his step. With JARVIS’ help, he’d managed to sneak into the workshop while Tony was taking a bathroom break and leave his surprise there on his desk. His heart was still beating a little faster in his chest, the adrenaline of finally making a move putting him a little on edge. He knew he had no real reason to be nervous, logically Tony had been the one to ask Steve to be his Valentine but still. . . He couldn’t help but feel that his gesture had been a lot more intimate than Tony’s. He hummed as he moved around the kitchen, making himself a portion of scrambled eggs that was probably enough to feed a small army. He considered setting aside a portion for Tony ready to take it down to the lab as he often did, but he decided against it, cutting up some mango and banana to eat. He wanted to give Tony some time to process Steve’s gift.
He let his mind drift as he sat down to eat, his foolish heart running rampant with imagining what might happen next. Would Tony take him out somewhere? Valentine’s Day was busy, but Tony could probably get them a table anywhere he wanted to by using his name and his funds. Maybe they would stay at home instead. Tony was always insisting that Steve saw some film or other, or some new cuisine when he ordered food in. It would be something more familiar for the two of them, tucked up against one another. This time, Steve wouldn’t even have to pretend he was just tired and sleepy when he leaned against Tony, and the genius wouldn’t have to use the excuse of Steve’s body heat to shove his toes under Steve’s thigh. Steve was a simple man, he didn’t need some grand gesture.
As long as he got to spend tonight with Tony, there was nothing that could make him happier.
Steve had never had a date on Valentine’s Day. At the very least, he had never had a real one. It was always some equally lonely gal who Bucky had roped into a double date. It was usually painfully obvious that they had been coerced by their friend so they could spend the night with Bucky – who, to his everlasting couple, always explained that he and Stevie were a package deal and did she have a friend? But even though he knew what to expect, it still hurt every time he saw the disappointment on their face at being stuck with the rent, caught Bucky’s date giving her a pleading gaze or mouthing ‘just a few more hours.’ It was painful to sit in awkward silence, as they were seldom interested in holding a conversation with him and his questions were usually met with short, uninteresting answers. He had insisted over and over to Bucky that he should just go alone, that he really didn’t mind staying at home, but his best friend never wanted to leave him behind. On his part, it was too humiliating for him to explain that sitting alone at home was a better time than watching his date stare at Bucky with jealousy and desire instead of him.
Everything was different now though. Steve was big and strong and objectively attractive, people stared at him with an appreciative gaze that he had never known before. Dames would use that smile on him that they used to use on Bucky, tuck their hair behind their ears and laugh at jokes that really weren’t that funny. He tried not to wonder if they would have spared him a second glance before. He still didn’t go on many dates.
Tony liked the way he looked. Steve knew that too. He caught the way that Tony’s eyes wandered when Steve returned from his run, or the way Tony stared when he dressed up for an event. Honestly, the man didn’t exactly try very hard to hide it. Steve had been subject to numerous comments about his ass in the Captain America suit or his biceps when he worked out – not to mention Tony’s running tally on the kitchen fridge times that Steve wears a shirt two sizes too small. But it had always been more than that between them. Tony had hated Steve when they first met, tried to wind him up at every opportunity, disagreed with his every order, made snide comments and snappy remarks that made Steve’s blood boil. Beyond the anger though, there had always been a certain gratitude there. When he woke up, everyone handled him with kiddie gloves. Like he was fragile, like he might breakdown if they used too many pop culture references in the same sentence. They put him on a pedestal, all those SHIELD agents who grew up on the myths and legends of his story, treated him like he was special. It didn’t make him feel special, it made him feel different. Other. Like he had to be perfect.
Then Tony came. Brash, loud, flashy, arrogant, everything-bad-about-the-future Tony, treating Steve like he was just some jackass in spandex. Of course it made him angry, but it also made him feel free. For once, Steve didn’t have to be perfect and patient and kind. For once, for the first time since he woke up, Steve got to be angry. He got to be mean. Steve got to be human. And when the smoke cleared and the dust settled, Steve realised that Tony made him feel more alive than he had since before the ice. It didn’t matter that he hated the man, he didn’t hesitate to accept his offer of moving into the tower, much to Tony’s apparent surprise. But he didn’t ask, and Steve offered no explanation, and slowly but surely, they began to bond.
To think of how far they had come made Steve’s heart warm. From not being able to stay in the same room for more than thirty minutes to spending Valentine’s Day together. His smile was broad as he washed off his dish and stacked it into the dishwasher, heading into the common room to say good morning to the other Avengers. Clint and Natasha’s squabbling was audible from the kitchen and he walked in to the two of them playing video games and tossing candy into their mouths. It was another one of Clint’s party tricks, he was able to do all kinds of weird trick shots and still catch the M&Ms in his mouth.
“Good mor—” The words died in his throat as he caught sight of what was tucked into the couch cushions next to Clint though, and sat on the coffee table staring at him. The world seemed to tilt on its axis as Steve had the sudden, horrible realisation at what had just happened. “What is that?” He choked out anyway, as if he didn’t already know. Clint and Natasha each had a small stuffed bear, wearing their uniforms. Steve could take one guess at where the candy came from too. Oh God. He thought he was going to throw up.
“The bears? Tony gave one to everyone, some candy too. Didn’t you get one? Oh well, I’m sure he’ll give something to you later. . .” Natasha kept talking, but whatever she did say, Steve didn’t hear it over his own heart beating in his ears. He felt like such an idiot. Of course Tony hadn’t been confessing his feelings with some stupid stuffed bear and some damn candy. Of course it was just some friendly gesture, something Tony would do for everyone. Of course, Tony thought of Steve just like anyone else.
It hurt.
It hurt worse than every disappointed look, every time a dame checked her watch, every time she joked under a breath about a swap when they thought Steve couldn’t hear. It hurt more than every time he’d been stood up, every time he’d spent Valentine’s Day all alone. Humiliation burned hot in his gut and he realised that if he didn’t beat Tony to the gift he had left in his lab, he was going to ruin everything.
Wordlessly, he spun on his heel and stumbled toward the elevator, slamming the button with too much force and ignoring the concerned cries of his teammates that followed behind him.
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“Uh, JARVIS?” Tony stopped about three feet from his desk, staring at the gift that was sitting on his desk. He’d only been gone for about ten minutes, taking a quick shower and grabbing a cup of coffee, which meant that really the only way somebody had been able to escape his notice was if they had the help of a certain meddling AI. “I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt that this isn’t a bomb threat,” he drawled, giving his servers the stink eye, “not that you would probably tell me,” he added huffily. Sure, he was JARVIS’ creator and technically the person that the AI was supposed to listen to, but it seemed more and more than Tony’s orders were becoming more on par with the opinions of the rest of the team. It could be inconvenient, this being a prime example, but privately he felt a sense of pride. JARVIS making his own connections, friends even, was incredibly exciting – ground-breaking even. He was sure that Steve was mostly to blame, the man forever referring to JARVIS as his friend and leaping in to defend the AI whenever Tony threatened to donate him to a community college or marry him off to Alexa. He had a feeling they talked a lot, probably too much of that about Tony.
“I can confirm that this is not, in fact, a bomb threat, Sir,” JARVIS replied in a crisp tone, that somehow contained a silent obviously at the end.
“Lovely,” Tony stepped forward and investigated the gift. It was rectangular and pretty flat, maybe a book of some kind? Maybe it was some research or an interesting read from Bruce, wrapped up as a little Valentine’s Day joke. There was no label, just a pretty red bow to complete the gift that Tony gave a cautious tug on, watching it come loose. There wasn’t exactly any confusion as to who it was for, after all. He hadn’t been expecting to receive anything today, anything from business associates or unreciprocated interests would be filtered through Pepper and SI before he ever laid eyes on it, and most of the chocolates and alcohol and flowers he would be sent would just be offered up to his employees to take. After delivering his little gifts to the team this morning, he figured that gave him an excuse to just stay locked up in the lab today.
After all, there was only one person he was interested in spending the holiday with, and he wouldn’t give Tony the time of day. Spending the time staring at what he couldn’t have wasn’t exactly going to put him in a great mood. No, it was better for him to stay out of the way and get some work done instead of ruining the holiday for everyone else.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about making a move. Basically anybody that knew him had asked whether or not he was finally going to ask Steve out this Valentine’s Day. “It shouldn’t be that hard,” Natasha had joked with that infuriating knowing smile on her face, “you’ve practically been dating him for the last four months.” Tony objected to that accusation. Sure, maybe he and Steve spent a lot of time together. . . more than he did with anyone else on the team. But that was definitely a result of his own feelings instead of a reflection of anything Steve felt. It had started out innocently enough, with Tony declaring that Steve needed some serious re-education about everything the future had to offer. And Steve? Steve never seemed to say no. Not that he would ever say anything, but he kind of worried about Steve sometimes. The man didn’t really have a lot of hobbies that Tony could see, aside from exercising. Tony had caught him sketching a few times too, but Steve had always slammed the book shut and refused to let Tony see at all. The point was, Steve didn’t really seem to have any friends that weren’t also his teammates, or a few people at SHIELD.
The upside to that was that every time Tony asked him if he would like to do something, Steve jumped at the chance. Like he said, Steve was just bored. It didn’t mean that he really liked Tony, he probably would have preferred if Nat had offered instead. They had a nice time though, at least Tony thought they did. Museums and galleries and parks and restaurants. Tony had taken Steve all over New York by now. They had been to way too many baseball games to count, decked head to toe in the horrible gaudy team merchandise – it was their compromise. Steve preferred hockey, but Tony could actually get behind baseball just for the statistics of it all. On rainy days, they stayed inside and worked on Steve’s film, TV and music knowledge. Most of the stuff, Tony had seen a few times already, but he didn’t care. It was even worth watching the crappy romance ones that Steve loved just to watch the man’s face light up whenever he caught a reference.
For a brief moment, as he felt the shiny paper beneath his fingers, he wondered if the gift could possibly be from Steve. There had been. . . moments. It was probably just himself projecting, but there had been moments where he had honestly thought that something might happened. When they were pressed together in a booth at their favourite diner, and Steve had stolen a sip of his chocolate milkshake again, looking up at him with that stupid little mischievous smile and he thought they were going to kiss. Another time when their team had gotten a home run and the stadium went wild; Steve had hugged him so tight that Tony’s feet came off the ground and his eyes had dropped to Tony’s lips as they parted. When Steve had been showing Tony his favourite piece of art in the gallery and he had just seemed so passionate, so involved, so intelligent that all Tony could think about was kissing him stupid. It took him a few minutes to realise that Steve had stopped talking and was just staring at him. Sparring, when Tony had used this move he learned from Nat and taken Steve by surprise, ended up on top of him. Steve had looked up at him, pupils dilated, lips slightly parted and Tony had to cut the session short so he could take a long cold shower. The events just became more and more frequent the more time they spent together.
He shook his head. It was probably from Pepper, a pity gift to make him feel better about everything he was feeling. Tony got himself together and tore off the paper, his curiosity growing as he realised what it was. A black, A4 sketchbook, the book thick was use and some of the pages dog-eared. Cautiously, he opened the first page and froze. There, in perfect cursive that could only belong to one person on this team, was a message that made his heart stop.
I was yours from the moment we met, I just didn’t know it yet.
He felt his heart race slowly build as he started flipping through the pages, his own face staring back at him on almost every page, or his hands, or his eyes, or his suit. The first sketch was dated two years ago and he recognised what it was instantly. Tony in his Black Sabbath shirt, this arrogant smirk on his face that made him look punchable, throwing a blueberry into the air. The helicarrier. The second page had two drawings on, both of which made his heart clench. A small silhouette, falling falling falling from a swirling portal, the skyline below him. Then Tony, from the shoulders up. The remainder of his suit was scratched up and dented, the face mask discarded somewhere. Even though it had no colour, he somehow looked lifeless, his eyes closed and his eyelashes fanning his cheeks, his mouth a thin line. He moved on quickly after that. The sketches got more and more intimate as the dates got later. They began with Tony in battle, or Tony wearing a sharp suit on his way to SI, checking his watch or sipping his coffee with an annoyed look on his face. A series of him angry, yelling and baring his teeth and one of Tony flipping Steve off with a childish pout on his face. A series of him in battle, a metal blur, holding up his palm or carrying a civilian or flying in a long arc. The next was in colour – Tony’s workshop. Everything bathed in a brilliant blue glow, Tony at the centre of the madness, a Captain at the helm surrounded by his glowing blue holographic screens.
His throat felt tight as he could feel their friendship growing through the pages. Tony in sweatpants and a t-shirt, shoving pizza into his mouth. Tony at breakfast, bags under his eyes and hands wrapped around his coffee like somebody might take it. Tony concentrating on something in the lab, brow furrowed and wearing a ratty tank that Steve had paid loving attention to. Soon came a softer one of him grinning playfully and petting DUM-E. It must have been around the time Steve took up sketching on the couch down there. Tony sprawled over the couch, fast asleep and drooling, Tony brandishing the remote and ranting about some movie or other. Then came the dates – outings. He meant outings. Tony sipping a milkshake and making pathetic moon eyes at Steve from under his eyelashes, Tony in his baseball cap and sunglasses throwing up a piece sign, Tony studying a piece of art with a puzzled look on his face (Steve probably had to explain it to him), Tony grinning like a kid at a dinosaur skeleton all interspersed with ones at the Tower. Those were by far the most intimate, Tony in his natural habitat. Cooking, cleaning, working in the lab, sleeping. The times that he looked the worst, bedhead and ratty clothes, seemed to be the ones Steve took most pleasure in. Like it was some kind of honour to get to see Tony like that. Like he was beautiful like that.
Tony dragged his forearm roughly across his eyes, his vision getting too blurred to see the pages properly. Steve loved him. Steve loved him. It would have been impossible to look through the book in his hands and draw any other conclusion.
“Tony—”
The genius jumped, fumbling with the book in his hands at the sudden intrusion. He spun around quickly, his stomach dropping as he saw Steve in the doorway looking harried and desperate. Tony probably looked like an idiot, his eyes red rimmed and clutching the book to his chest like it was his most prized possession.
“Steve,” he breathed, the name like a prayer on his lips.
The man looked like he’d been shot when he saw the book in Tony’s arms, which made confusion shoot through him. Did Steve think he was crying because he didn’t like it or something?
“Please tell me you didn’t open it,” Steve begged, keeping his distance from Tony in a way the billionaire really didn’t like. Wasn’t this the part where they threw themselves into each other’s arms and confessed their love? God, he really was watching way too many of Steve’s awful rom-coms.
“Of course I did,” he replied quickly, “Steve, it’s—”
“Oh Tony, I’m so sorry,” he was cut off before he could actually thank the man properly and he frowned a little, annoyed that Steve kept cutting him off. Tony was the one who talked too much in this relationship after all. Steve continued though, looking so anxious that Tony was almost worried that he might pass out on the workshop floor. “I’m so sorry. You must be so angry at me, I didn’t – it wasn’t supposed to be creepy, you were never supposed to see them.” Tony was growing more confused by the second, did someone else leave the sketchbook here? “You don’t – and that’s fine, I mean, it’s fine Tony. And I can control myself, I can keep my feelings to myself, I can – I have!” It was kind of hard to follow what the fuck Steve was talking about when the man kept stuttering and changing track, looking anywhere other than Tony’s eyes. “I just—misunderstood, that’s all. This morning. Your gifts, I, ah—I misread it. I didn’t. . . see everyone else’s.” The man’s skin was bright red, embarrassment written all over his features, “so I’m sorry. I’ll just—I’ll just take that back,” he reached for the sketchbook, “and then we can forget this ever happened, okay?”
Tony blinked. His mind worked a thousand miles an hour and even he was confused at what Steve was trying to say here. Even still, he took a protective step back and wrapped his arms more tightly around the sketchbook when Steve threatened to take it, watching surprise flicker over the handsome soldier’s face. “Steve,” he said evenly, “no offence, but I have no idea what you’re talking about. What do you mean ‘I don’t?’ I don’t what? You didn’t mean this?” He felt his heart breaking in his chest and Steve looked about as bad as Tony felt.
In the smallest, saddest voice he had ever heard from the man, he replied with two words. He sounded defeated.
“Love me.”
All of a sudden, it clicked. His gifts. Steve had seen the teddy and the candy and thought it was a confession, had left this here and by the time he realised his mistake. . . Tony loosened his grip on the sketchbook and looked down at it. Carefully, he set the sketchbook down on the worktop, a slow smile spreading across his face. “You know,” he drawled, looking up at Steve, “I’m kind of offended.”
The man frowned, wringing his hands and shifting his feet, “what?”
“That you thought that was a confession.”
It was as if he had twisted a knife in Steve’s gut, his whole body deflating, “I know, I’m sorr—”
This time, it was Tony’s turn to interrupt. He stalked toward Steve, the man stumbling back a little as he did. Tony didn’t stop advancing though, curling a hand around the man’s jaw and cradling his face. He lowered his voice, speaking in a soft murmur as he said, “because when I confess that I love you? It’s going to be such a grand gesture that the whole world knows about it, and even then it wouldn’t be enough to deserve you.” He watched as understanding spread across Steve’s face followed by pure vicarious joy. In an instant, he had his arms wrapped around Tony, drawing him into a hug so tight that it damn nearly suffocated him. The genius didn’t care though, letting out a breathless laugh as he threw his arms around Steve’s neck, dragging their noses together as he searched for a kiss that he knew, finally knew, Steve would give him.
“So?” Tony asked softly, just before their lips met.
“So what?” Steve whispered back, hesitating for a second.
The genius grinned, so wide that it almost split his face open.
“Be my Valentine?”
His answer, soft and slow and perfect, tasted like mango on his tongue.