Work Text:
Steve loved bookstores. He had always loved libraries, but now he had the money to take books home and keep them. Tony had all the books he could possibly want in electronic format, but there was nothing quite like flipping through a book and seeing what was there. This time, though, he was on a mission. Clint had found out he’d only been to the little convenience store near him and decided to take him to a big grocery store. There had been so many different items and ingredients! And now, his stomach could handle them all, and there wasn’t wartime rationing. Hence the mission- cookbooks.
Upon arriving at the cookbook section, Steve blanched a little. The selection was huge, and he didn’t even know where to start. There was a cookbook for every country he had heard of, plus some for barbeque, for baking, for various themes, and titles he couldn’t even figure out the meaning of. Fortunately for him, as he was looking at various titles, someone standing nearby noticed.
“That’s my favorite cookbook! I love the recipes, and it’s also got my favorite chefs in it! Emeril is wonderful to watch, don’t you agree?” The woman looked a little starry-eyed.
Looking at the cover, he saw that it had recently been discounted, so he flipped through it. He didn’t recognize any of the people, but then whenever he got near the TV one of the other Avengers seemed to appear with something else he needed to watch to catch up. Food shows hadn’t been on the list. Still, the recipes used a lot of unfamiliar ingredients and that was the goal.
“Thank you, ma’am. I’ll definitely give this one a try.” With that, he took the book up to the checkstand.
When he got home, he flipped through the book and stopped at a recipe that had a picture that looked both delicious and unfamiliar. The recipe seemed like a good start, using something he was familiar with- red snapper, and something he was not- couscous. Still, despite the fact that snapper had been available as a treat, the preparation was completely new. “Meatless Fridays” had been a staple of his childhood, but the fish was boiled or maybe fried. Snapper was only occasional, usually it was haddock. When he went to the store, all the ingredients were easy enough to find, although he doubled the recipe because he knew his appetite.
The night he decided to make the ‘Red Snapper en Papillote’ was a night when he was alone on the common floor. If he screwed up completely, he didn’t want to hear about it until the end of time. The problem came when the snapper came out of the parchment paper looking delicious. He wanted someone else’s opinion, and there was no one else around. Thor was in Asgard, Clint was at Coulson’s, Nat was on a mission somewhere, and Bruce was in India. Tony… Wait, Tony was in the Tower, working on a project. Maybe he’d appreciate some dinner.
“JARVIS, has Tony eaten dinner yet?” Steve didn’t want to bring his food down if it would be immediately rejected.
“Sir has not eaten dinner yet, though based on past data, he will be wanting food soon.” Steve breathed a sigh of relief at JARVIS’s response. One more question and then he could go downstairs to the workshop.
“Think he’d like some snapper?”
“Sir has no allergies and has enjoyed snapper in the past, though I do not believe the combination with couscous is one he has had before.” JARVIS’s voice came through the speakers again.
“Well, I hope he likes what I’ve made.” Steve quickly plated up the meal and went down to the workshop.
The door opened without him even having to knock. Steve would never get used to that, the way some doors opened without him having to do anything. It did make it much easier with the two plates he was carrying.
“Dinner, Tony?”
“Capsicle!” Tony’s smile lit up his entire face. Steve loved seeing that genuine smile. He wasn’t examining why he enjoyed that smile, not yet, but he couldn’t say he was disappointed that Tony was the person left in the Tower to try his food. As he looked on, he saw Tony’s eyes widen. “You brought me dinner? What’s the occasion? This looks amazing!”
“No occasion, just an experiment. In this case, an experiment in cooking.” Make the wording appeal to your audience- his time as a dancing monkey had taught him something. He wanted Tony’s reaction to his food. More than that, he really, truly, desperately wanted Tony to like it. He wasn’t going to think about that, either.
“Well, then, I’m always down to experiment, let’s dig in!” Suiting actions to words, Tony took a bite. At the sound Tony made, Steve quickly sat down to take his own bite, hiding his reaction to the sound. Maybe he would have to think about it. But, that was a problem for future-Steve. Now-Steve had just taken a bite, and the fish was delectable. Apparently he was a decent cook. And he, perhaps, had a willing mouth to feed. That was quickly proven with Tony’s first words after chewing.
“So, Tony… I’m getting into trying cooking. There’s so many new foods out there! I want to try them all, but I need a taste-tester. I don’t know what food today is supposed to taste like, but you do. Want to be my guinea pig?”
“Pig? PIG? I will not be a pig.” Tony took another bite, savoring the taste. “I will, however, consent to have food brought to me. Who am I to argue when a gorgeous hunk wants to hand-deliver food to me?”
Steve felt his face heat. Quickly, he looked down at his plate so as to avoid Tony’s gaze. He was absolutely willing to keep providing food to Tony, but he wasn’t ready to tell himself what that meant, much less so his dining companion.
Tony appeared to take his silence as an invitation to continue. “Seriously, you can give me a big hunk of meat any day.”
Steve just knew Tony was grinning, but he wasn’t going to look, as looking would require showing his beet-red face. He was going to have his mouth full until he was ready to leave. Damnit. He blushed harder at his own thought of his mouth being full. Apparently his brain wasn’t on board with his decision to ignore everything he was noticing about Tony. ‘Not now. Not now.’ was the silent mantra he kept flowing. Steve needed some time to think before he revealed any of this to Tony.
Soon, but not soon enough for Steve’s burning face, the plates were empty. “Here, let me take these and you can get back to work.” Steve quickly fled before Tony could question him.
But now the offer had been made. He couldn’t just forget that the encounter had happened, because he had promised more meals to Tony, and he wasn’t going to go back on that promise. Now to think of something to cook that wasn’t romantic. Nope. Not going there.
Steve managed to wait nearly a week before his next experiment in cooking. It didn’t do anything to reduce how much he noticed Tony, because apparently Tony took his bringing food as an open invitation for meals together whenever Tony wanted to try something. It led to some really exciting food that he was absolutely not ready to attempt. (Teppanyaki was incredibly impressive, but he was absolutely not ready for the showmanship apparently required. He didn’t want to know if the serum would regrow a missing finger.) It also led to him being better able to function through his embarrassment, even if Tony did his best to make him blush on a regular basis. So, with all that, he decided he was ready for another food attempt. (He was going to ignore the one that failed. No one knew about that one, other than JARVIS, who had been sworn to secrecy.)
This time, Steve made chicken. It had been a bit of a luxury growing up, so it felt like a treat, but it was also seen as a budget ingredient now, so if it went wrong, it wouldn’t be a waste. Also, the seasoning was completely unfamiliar, being that it was port and mustard. Whole grain mustard. He’d had creamy mustard on hot dogs at Coney Island, and he’d had some cabbage with mustard seed before as a seasoning, but a mustard spread with whole seeds? That was a new experience. At least he had cut chickens before. Butterflying was not the typical way he had cut them, but he knew where the bones were and the instructions were clear enough for him to follow. The recipe hadn’t suggested any side dishes, so he decided to take advantage of all the vegetables available all year, and put together a nice salad. Then, he got some good, crusty bread. There was clearly meant to be a sauce when all was said and done, and good bread soaked up sauce wonderfully.
When it was all done, the meal looked delicious, and he had managed to save some of the chicken fat. That would be useful for a later cooking experiment. Now time to see if it tasted as good as it looked. With a deep breath, he again headed to Tony’s workshop.
“Capsicle! That smells wonderful!” Tony’s voice sounded truly happy to see him. Steve didn’t really have any doubts given the time they spent together, but each time it was still a relief. He wanted to spend time with Tony, so it was wonderful that Tony wanted to do the same.
“Thanks, Shellhead.” Huh. That was the first time he tried to nickname Tony, and he liked how it sounded, but how would Tony react?
“Nice one, Winghead!” Apparently with a brand new nickname. Well, at least that was completely normal. Banter was good. Banter was always good. When he was bantering with Tony, the world fell away and didn’t matter as much. He just hoped that bantering with him relieved the same pressure on Tony’s shoulders. Still, the banter didn’t completely remove the stress of Tony trying one of his dishes. Steve held his breath as Tony took his first bite.
“Damn, Capybara! This is delicious. Looks like your food isn’t just a one trick pony.” Steve blushed and Tony laughed.
Again, the conversation was light through dinner, and Steve was gratified to see Tony soaking up the sauce with his bread. After letting the warmth of Tony’s enjoyment flow through him, he lost himself in their discussion. It was only when Tony let out a yawn despite the coffee he had been drinking that Steve realized they had been talking for hours.
“Oh no! I better let you get some sleep.” Steve started his retreat from the shop.
“Don’t worry, Winghead. I’m enjoying our conversation.” The look on Tony’s face, was it… wistful? Steve wasn’t sure, but maybe Tony wanted to not just spend time with him, but make time with him. This bore some further consideration, but for now, it was late and he needed time to think.
“I am too, Shellhead, but we both have to be up early. Shall we continue it later?”
“You, me, and Brazilian food tomorrow. You’ll love it.” Tony grinned at him, and Steve felt his mouth turning up further without his input.
That night, Steve had a lot of thinking to do. When morning came, he hadn’t come to any conclusions, but he kept thinking. He did so as he and Tony went out to dinner together, and as he expanded his horizons more with his own cooking and enjoying it in Tony’s workshop. Finally, he reached a conclusion, and, as it had worked so well before, he decided on a new menu. This one, the picture in the book looked gorgeous. Steak with papaya salad was the recipe.
He’d never had papaya, but steak was always good, and he decided to have potatoes as well. He was Irish, if he was going to do something daring, he was going to do it with potatoes. Still, as a nod to the plan, he looked up different potato recipes and decided to give fondant potatoes a try. They were basically roasted potatoes with a twist, and wasn’t that his whole point? Learning something, with the modern twist? And now it was time to leap with both feet.
Steve was more careful than he had ever been when making his meal. Before, it was just for him to learn and maybe share, but this time was for something more. It had to be perfect. Also, it had to be timed perfectly. This time, he didn’t want to do it in Tony’s workshop. Both because it didn’t fit the mood, and because, well, if it went poorly, he wanted them both to be able to retreat. Dinner had to be going onto the table right as Tony walked in from the board meeting. Fortunately JARVIS was on his side and agreed to alert Steve when the meeting was done. That would only give him just enough time to put the plates on the table, but experience let him know how long the meetings would take. He just had to fight not to rush.
So, instead of rushing, he fussed with the table. Everything had to be set just right for this, or else he would know and stress out about it. Even the things he knew Tony wouldn’t notice, he had to make perfect. At least all the fussing gave time for the meat to rest properly, otherwise he might have gotten impatient and cut it too soon. As it was, he was just cleaning up the plates when JARVIS announced Tony was on his way. The plates somehow made it to the table without disaster, and Steve was there to greet Tony as he came off the elevator.
“Hi Tony. Join me for dinner?”
“Dinner! Sure, Capsicle! Just let me change into my sweats- or wait, you look fancy? What’s the occasion for the nice threads?”
“I made something special. Tony, I’d… I’d like this to…” Steve swallowed. He didn’t realize how hard it would be to get the words out for something he decided he desperately wanted.
“Everything okay, Steve?” Tony’s forehead was wrinkling. It was a cute forehead, but Steve didn’t want to be the cause of those nerves. He had to spit it out.
“Everything is fine. Tony, would you do me the honor of making this a date?” Steve gulped.
The important question had come out, but now he had to wait for Tony to respond. As the seconds stretched on, feeling like minutes, Steve’s heart started to fall towards his feet and he felt his face begin to stiffen. Tony hadn’t moved since the question had escaped Steve’s mouth, and dread was filling Steve. Finally, Steve had enough of the silence.
“Sorry. We can forget this-” Steve did his best to keep the disappointment out of his voice until he was interrupted.
“No, wait!” Tony lunged towards Steve, then settled himself back in his chair. “I don’t want to forget this,” Steve’s heart sunk even further. Had he lost a friend by taking a risk? “I want this to be a date.”
“I under- Wait, you do want this to be a date? Really? You do?” Steve was dizzy with how fast his heart rose from under his feet up to his throat. Was this really happening?
“Yes, I do. And not just for the food.” Tony grinned and winked, no longer held paralyzed. Steve knew he was going to have to ask about that, but not right now. Right now he was too happy.
“I’m glad. So, dinner and maybe a movie, Shellhead?”
“Sure, Winghead. And I’ll provide breakfast in the morning.” The exaggerated wink Tony pulled had Steve laughing, and it was a bit before he finally took a bite of his food.
It was delicious.
