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Tony woke slowly, burrowing deeper into his blankets as he did. The apartment he and Rhodey shared tended to run fiery-pits-of-hell hot, so he’d left his window cracked open overnight. But now his bedroom was cool in a way that made him feel all snuggly and cozy, even as he pressed his nose into his sheets to hide it from the chill. It felt like… Fall.
Tony’s eyes popped open, and he hopped out of bed, yelping as his toes hit the cold plank flooring. He ran over to the window and opened it wide enough to lean his whole upper body out (something Rhodey was always yelling at him for, convinced he’d fall out the fifth story window and break his neck) and breathe in deep. It was already late morning, the sky bright and clear, but for the first time in weeks there was no trace of heavy, oppressive humidity in the air. The heat of summer had been lingering on and on and on through September, but now the air was crisp and fresh. He knew it was his imagination, but Tony could even smell apples.
Humming happily to himself, he pulled his head back inside and then skidded over to his dresser, rifling through the drawers until he found his favourite pair of cold-weather socks, the thick wool ones that Jarvis had knitted for him a couple Chrismasses ago in a gaudy splash of all Tony’s favourite colours. Another drawer, and he was pulling out the heavy, too-big cream-coloured Fisherman’s sweater he loved. He didn’t bother with pants at all, still wearing the boxers he’d been sleeping in. He looked ridiculous and he was going to bask in every second of it.
Dancing into the kitchen, Tony leaned down and crawled halfway under the sink, shoving aside pots and pans in search of the enormous bag of apples he’d stowed there a few days ago, saving them for just this occasion. Technically he had class this morning, but the coursework was stuff he could have completed when he was twelve, and everyone knew that the first day of fall weather should really be a federal holiday anyway. Turning on the oven, he got to work.
***
Fridays were currently Rhodey’s least favourite day of the week. Whatever genius had decided that his mandatory class would only be offered at 8:30 in the morning deserved a special place in hell, as far as he was concerned. Add to that the rest of his classes, office hours for the class he was TA-ing, and lacrosse practice, and although they were barely a month into the semester, Fridays had already turned into a never-ending nightmare day.
This Friday seemed especially bad. He hadn’t slept well the night before, already exhausted when his alarm went off, and he hadn’t realized how cold it was until he’d stepped out of the building. He hadn’t been dressed nearly warm enough for the day, but the thought of going back up five flights of stairs to their apartment felt like too much, so he’d headed out, figuring he’d warm up on the walk.
That had been a mistake. While the walk to campus was short, by the time he got there he was so chilled that he was seriously considering using up one of his two allowed absences for the semester to go back home and crawl back into his warm bed. He was still debating the trek back home when the prof showed up, and then it seemed too embarrassing to say he was leaving because he was cold , so he decided to just stick it out.
The day seemed to match Rhodey’s mood. The weather was cloudy and drizzly, and it felt like everybody he interacted with was doing their very best to annoy him. By the time his classes and office hours were over, he was cranky and irritable and still so fucking cold . He only had a very short window to grab food, and he was ready to punch something when he spotted Mike-from-Lacrosse, waving his arms at him from across the student centre. Bracing himself for another shitty addition to his shitty day -- and also for missing his crucial food window -- Rhodey headed over.
“Hey bro.” Mike grinned at him. “Coach told me to tell you that practice is cancelled tonight. Something about the field being double booked or something.” He shrugged, unconcerned. “Whatever. We’ve got the night off anyway.”
Rhodey blinked down at him, feeling weirdly like he might start crying, or maybe hug Mike or something. “Oh.” He cleared his throat and then forced a smile when he realized that Mike was giving him a strange look. “Cool, great. Thanks for letting me know!” He turned away quickly, waving a hand over his shoulder as he headed for the door, irrationally worried that if he lingered too long practice would somehow be un-cancelled.
The walk home was even colder than the walk there, despite the late afternoon sunshine, and he was shivering by the time he made it into the lobby, goose pimples popping up on his bare arms. He trudged his way up the stairs and down the hall, fumbling with the keys to their door, and then couldn’t help his whine when he pushed it open and was immediately met with a draft of cold air, especially jarring after the brief relief of the warmer hallway.
“Tony?” he called, dropping his bag by the door and heading inside, flat-out pouting when he spotted all their windows wide open. “Tones? You home?” He started pushing them shut. “Why the fuck are the windows open?”
“Kitchen!” Tony hollered back, not explaining anything, and Rhodey took a deep breath, counting to ten, before making his way down the hall.
Despite how irritated he was, he couldn’t help a soft huff of laughter when he spotted Tony. He was bent over their finicky oven, boxer-clad ass bopping around as he rocked his hips to some song that only he could hear. Leaning against the doorframe, Rhodey sighed.
“What are you doing, man?”
Tony straightened at the sound of his voice, and turned to face him. His hands were covered with oven mitts, a casserole dish balanced between them and he beamed at the sight of Rhodey, but before he couldn’t open his mouth to explain, Rhodey was frowning.
“Is that my sweater?”
Tony’s lips curled into a pout as he quickly set the dish on the countertop, hugging himself protectively and burying his nose in the sleeve of one arm. “No?”
“The sweater my grandma knitted for me?”
“I’m pretty sure she really intended it for me,” Tony told him airily, attitude belied by the cheeky little grin playing around his lips. “She likes me better than you.”
Rhodey rolled his eyes. “She hadn’t even met you when she knitted that,” he protested, but didn’t bother asking for the sweater back. He wasn’t going to admit it, but Tony looked kind of adorable with his boxers and sweater and socks. Rhodey’s clothes were a good look on him. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” he asked, shivering a little. “And why it’s so fucking cold in here?”
Tony beamed again. “It’s fall, honeybear!” he chirped, dancing across the room and giving Rhodey a smacking kiss on the cheek, because that was what Tony did. “We’ve gotta celebrate.” He wrapped a hand around Rhodey’s forearm, starting to drag him into the room properly, and then dropped him again with a frown. “Christ, you’re freezing,” he said. “What happened to you?”
Rhodey gave him a pointed look. “It’s fall,” he said, echoing Tony’s words, if not his tone. “Some of us didn’t have the luxury of hanging around home all day.” He narrowed his eyes. “Didn’t you have class this morning?”
“Uhhh…” Tony gave him a disarming grin. “It’s fall!” he declared again. “Everyone knows the first day of fall weather should be a holiday.”
Rhodey blinked at him and then rubbed at his forehead. “No, Tones,” he told him. “No, they really don’t.”
Tony shrugged, unconcerned, and moved over to fiddle with the oven again. “Well, they should,” he decided. “They’re missing out.”
“Sure, Tones.” Rhodey had long ago given up on trying to understand Tony’s quirks. “So you decided to celebrate by freezing out the apartment?”
Tony shot him a withering look over his shoulder, heaving a long, put upon sigh. “God, you’re a sourpatch today, huh? I celebrated by baking. The windows are open because I wanted to enjoy the fall air.” He came back over to give Rhodey a shove back toward the doorway. “Go away, you’re killing the vibe.”
He looked put out, but there was a gleam in his eye that had Rhodey grinning. “Sorry,” he started, but Tony waved him off.
“Nope, too late, you’re cranky, and I won’t have it. We need a do-over. So go, take a hot shower, put on some warm clothes, take a nap, whatever you need to do to get that stick out of your ass. And then we’ll start again.” Tony winked at him, and Rhodey shivered for reasons that had nothing to do with being cold. “Go!” he insisted, brandishing a tea towel threateningly, and Rhodey hurried down the hall.
***
One hot shower later, Rhodey felt infinitely better. He’d grabbed his own favourite sweatshirt from his bedroom, along with a pair of well-worn-but-still-warm sweatpants, and that helped a lot. It had started to rain while he was using up all the hot water, heavy drops against the window that just sounded cold, and he couldn’t help being even more relieved that his practice had been cancelled. The thought of being out there in the rain was miserable, and left their apartment feeling even more comfortable than usual.
There was a faint crash from the living room and Rhodey grinned to himself as he followed the sound, preparing himself for whatever nonsense Tony had gotten up to this time. The man in question was bent over the couch and he whirled around at the sound of Rhodey’s arrival, pillow held against his chest and hair askew. He offered Rhodey a crooked grin before tossing the pillow down and stepping aside so Rhodey could see the full extent of his work.
“Welcome to the party,” he teased, waving his arms up and down in a poor rendition of a game show hostess.
The windows were closed now and their radiators were clicking as heat pushed its way through, leaving the room warm and heavy with the scent of hot dust. Tony had apparently raided both their bedrooms while Rhodey was in the shower, and the couch was now transformed into some kind of nest, piled up with every blanket and pillow that they owned.
Rhodey shook his head, grinning. “You’re such a dweeb,” he grumbled, although he had to admit that it looked ridiculously inviting. You’re not cool like, at all .”
Tony just shrugged, not concerned in the slightest, and immediately bounced onto the couch, rolling himself up in one of the blankets. “You love it,” he told him. “Tell me you don’t want a piece of this.”
Rhodey knew he meant the couch, and not Tony himself, but he’d be a liar if he tried to pretend like the answer to both wasn’t, ‘yes.’ He shrugged instead of admitting that though, flopping down on the couch and kicking his feet up on the coffee table that Tony’s mother had gifted them after she found out they were just using a pile of textbooks and old monitors. Tony tossed a blanket his way, and Rhodey was just settling into that deep-seated comfort that could only come after spending the day truly miserable when Tony suddenly popped up again.
“I almost forgot the best part!” he hollered, already disappearing into the kitchen. There was some more crashing and rattling and then he was returning with the aforementioned casserole dish, two forks and a pair of steaming mugs precariously balanced on top. “Apple crisp and apple cider!” he declared, looking extremely pleased with himself before he started to wince. “Ow, okay, that’s hot. Help!”
Rhodey leaned forward quickly, snatching the mugs so Tony could set the dish down with a heavy clunk. “Is this our dinner?” he asked, laughing at Tony’s withering look.
“Of course not. I ordered us pizza, Rhodes, I’m not a monster. I can bake, but you know I can’t cook.”
“Because that makes sense.”
“It does make sense! Baking is just chemistry, and you know I love chemistry .” This was said with a cheesy wink and a weird body undulation that had Rhodey snorting into his mug of cider. “Cooking is like magic or some shit, I have no idea.”
Rhodey just sighed and shook his head. “You’re such a dweeb.”
Far from looking offended, Tony just waggled his eyebrows and winked, like Rhodey had paid him some compliment. “Obviously.”
Tony hadn’t bothered with plates, and the crisp smelled amazing, so Rhodey grabbed a fork and dug in. It tasted even better than it smelled, and he cursed softly under his breath as the tart flavour of the apples burst across his tongue.
“Fuck man,” he mumbled around a low moan, not caring that his mouth was still mostly full. “This tastes amazing.”
Tony gave him a sweet, pleased grin before grabbing his own fork, leaning across the nest of blankets to steal his own bite from the dish that Rhodey was hoarding in his lap. “Hmm,” he said, savouring the piece in his mouth a moment before swallowing. “I don’t know, it maybe needs a bit more nutmeg.”
“Shut up, man.” Rhodey kicked out with his leg, half getting tangled in the blankets and half catching Tony in the thigh, making him giggle. “It’s delicious and you know it.” That got him another grin, shyer this time. Tony ducked his head a little, peering at Rhodey from under his eyelashes and the soft look made Rhodey’s heart flutter.
“Yeah, it’s pretty good,” he finally admitted before his smile turned big and cheesy again. “But wait until you taste my apple pie!”
Between the two of them they polished off the entire crisp in about twenty minutes. His cider was still steaming on the table beside him, but Rhodey couldn’t help pulling one of the blankets up to his chest, snuggling back against the cushions and letting the warmth leech the last of the cold from his body.
He hadn’t even realized he was dozing off until the loud jangle of the phone jolted him awake, making him startle as he tried to remember where he was.
“Shit, shit, sorry,” Tony was saying, scrambling beside him to grab the phone and buzz the delivery guy in. “I was going to meet him downstairs, but I lost track of time.” He gave Rhodey a smile, half apologetic and half something else that Rhodey couldn’t quite place. “Go back to sleep, I’ll be back in a minute.”
He was gone before Rhodey could say anything else, and he shrugged at the empty room. He thought about getting up to grab plates or soda or beer or something from the kitchen, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to move, and he was still lying on the sofa thinking about it when Tony returned a few minutes later, propping open the door with his foot as he balanced a steaming-hot extra-large pizza in his arms.
“Oh fuck man,” Rhodey groaned, leaning back blissfully against the cushions instead of making any move to help Tony. “I think I love you.”
“Yeah, you do,” Tony told him without a hint of shame. “I’m the best sugar daddy you’ll ever have.” He dumped the pizza box on the coffee table, shoving the empty casserole dish haphazardly to the side, and then headed over to the TV. The pizza was still way too hot to eat, but Rhodey couldn’t help grabbing a slice anyway, cursing as it burnt his fingertips and tongue and watching with half interest as Tony fiddled with the VCR. Once the screen loaded he hopped to his feet, doing some weird rendition of jazz hands. “Ghostbusters!” he crowed. “Nah nah nah nah nah nah.”
“Such a nerd,” Rhodey teased, laughing as Tony scrambled back onto the couch beside him, burrowing under the blankets and making grabby hands for the pizza box.
Rhodey lasted three slices of pizza and fifteen minutes of the movie before he was dozing again, head rolling on the cushions. He didn’t even realize he’d tipped over into Tony until the other man was shifting underneath him, pushing Rhodey into semi-wakefulness.
“Shit,” he muttered, blinking blearily. “Sorry, man.” He didn’t make any real move to get up, Tony nice and warm beneath him.
“No, you’re good,” Tony told him. “My leg was just asleep but I’m good now.” He combed his fingers over the back of Rhodey’s head, making him melt a little more. “Get some sleep, Boo Boo.”
There was something about the way he said it that roused Rhodey a little further, lifting his head enough to eye him suspiciously. “Why…?”
Tony positively beamed at him. “Because tomorrow we go to the farmer’s market!”
***
Rhodey had to admit that, dressed appropriately in a sweater and a leather jacket, and after getting a good night’s sleep (first on Tony’s shoulder and then in his own, extremely comfortable bed), the farmer’s market was kind of nice. He’d never actually been there before, or gone on the bus ride this far out of town,
but it was all cozy and quaint. There was the usual array of fruits and vegetables, and the biggest assortment of pumpkins he’d every seen. There were also stalls selling artisanal cheeses, and ciders, and fancy honeys, and a whole lot of other stuff that should have been ridiculous --
was
ridiculous -- but in a way that was still kind of nice.
Of course probably a good 90% of that was just Tony. He looked so happy, bouncing around from stall to stall, delighting in all the offerings, and it was inevitable that his happiness would rub off on Rhodey. He hadn’t expected the farmer’s market to be one of Tony’s normal haunts, but apparently he was a regular here, greeting half the stall owners by name and having an in-depth conversation with the cider guy about some ideas he’d had for creating a peach-apple cider.
“Okay,” Rhodey said when they’d made their way to the end of the stalls, and Tony had a bunch of things being packed up for him to pick up on their way back through. “Who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?”
Tony rolled his eyes. “Shut up,” he grumbled, although he didn’t really look upset. “I just really like the fall, okay?” He shrugged again, a hint of self-consciousness slipping into the movement. “I don’t know, when I was a kid Dad usually had a fall business trip. He’d take Mom, and I was never invited, but I liked it that way. It would just be me and Jarvis and Ana for a couple weeks, and we’d bake pies, and go for hikes upstate, or if it rained we’d sit in the library and Jarvis would read Lord of the Rings outloud, and we’d stay up late watching movies, and nobody yelled at me for jumping into leaf piles. We felt like a real family.” He cleared his throat, apparently having shared more than he intended, and then shot Rhodey a blinding, slightly goofy grin. “Hey, there’s a corn maze! Wanna go through?”
Rhodey waited until they were deep in the throes of the maze, nobody else around, before bumping his shoulder against Tony’s. “Hey, I’m sorry for giving you a hard time.”
Tony snorted, clearly not offended in the slightest. “I’m not that soft, Rhodes. You didn’t offend me. The fact that you can’t appreciate what a perfect season this is is your own problem.”
“Hey, no, I”m serious,” Rhodey insisted, even though it was clear that Tony was too. “I like that you like fall so much. Enthusiasm is a good look on you.”
Tony snorted again, ducking his head a little to peek up at Rhodey from under his eyelashes. “Yeah?”
“Yeah! And I’m glad you had those good memories growing up. That all sounds really nice. And uh…” Rhodey cleared his throat and fiddled with his fingers, suddenly feeling like he was revealing too much about himself. Tony was looking at him curiously though, and Rhodey decided ‘fuck it,’ drawing in a deep breath. “And I’m glad you want to share some of that with me. That you… Care about me enough to want to recreate it. With me.”
He felt squirmy and awkward, couldn’t make himself meet Tony’s eyes, but when the silence drew on too long he finally forced himself to look back up from the ground, finding Tony staring back at him with an expression he couldn’t place.
It went on for long enough that Rhodey was racking his mind for something, anything to say just to break the silence when Tony made a sudden jerking movement and then jolted forward, pressing his lips against Rhodey’s. It was awkward at first, unexpected, their lips just kind of smooshed together, Tony’s hands hovering awkwardly around Rhodey’s waist, not quite touching, Rhodey’s own arms hanging limply by his side. Then he got with the program, curling his hands around Tony’s sharp hips and kissing him back properly. Tony melted into him at the motion, meeting Rhodey’s kiss and tightening his grip around his waist with perfect pressure.
When he felt like he might pass out if he didn’t take a breath Rhodey finally pulled back, although it was barely far enough for an inhale, lips still brushing together. “Tones,” he breathed, uncertain but thrilled at what this meant for them.
Or at least, that’s what the name was supposed to reflect. Maybe his tone was off, more uncertain than thrilled, because a beat later Tony’s hands were gone, leaving Rhodey feeling shivery in the cool October air, and then he was stepping back entirely.
“Fuck,” he whispered, eyes wide and horrified and a little humiliated. “I’m so sorry.” And then he was turning on his heel, disappearing down the path before Rhodey could say a word.
Rhodey stood there for way too long, wondering if that had really just happened. And then he suddenly snapped to attention because he was a fucking idiot, wondering what had led Tony to kiss him when Tony had kissed him and now he was gone.
He got lost no less than seven times on his way out, naturally. And Tony, with his genius brain, had probably had the entire maze mapped out the second they stepped inside, or had subconsciously been calculating the statistical possibilities of each turn being the way out. Regardless, by the time Rhodey finally made it back to the parking lot, Tony was long gone.
It was getting dark by the time he got home, the late afternoon sunshine giving way to a cold drizzle. Rhodey had briefly considered stopping by the MIT labs first, in case Tony was hiding out there, but he was tired and he was hungry and he still had no idea what he was actually going to say to Tony (what if it was actually Tony who regretted the kiss?), so he’d gone home.
Surprisingly, the apartment was all lit up when he got there, the heat turned up, and Rhodey could hear pots banging in the kitchen. He followed the sound and then paused in the doorway when he found Tony once more leaning over the oven. He seemed to know Rhodey was there, unnaturally still, and there was a beat before he straightened and turned to look at him, expression somewhere between sheepish, hopeful, and terrified.
“I, um… I made muffins. Apple pumpkin. They’re in the oven now.”
And there were so many things that Rhodey had to say to Tony, so many things that he wanted to tell him, all tangled up in his brain, but none of them came out. All he could manage to do was stride across the room and grab hold of Tony’s hips, pulling him in for another kiss.
Tony sank into it immediately, hands fisting in Rhodey’s t-shirt, and it was several long moments before they pulled apart again. Tony blinked up at him, eyes dark and wide and hopeful again. “Yeah?” he asked, tongue flicking against his lower lip and nearly distracting Rhodey.
“Yeah,” he told him, grinning back. “Definitely yeah.”
“I thought…”
“I know what you thought,” Rhodey said, not needing him to explain. “I don’t know if you know this, but for a genius you’re kind of an idiot.”
“Wow,” Tony drawled, positively beaming now. “Is that anyway to talk to your…” He stumbled a bit. “Guy you’re making out with?”
“Guy you’re making out with?” Rhodey repeated. He stroked his thumb over Tony’s hipbone through the denim of his jeans. “Good god, man. We’ve been living together for years now. I think we can skip straight to the boyfriends part.” He felt his own flicker of nervousness, low in his belly. “You know, if you want.”
“Yeah,” Tony told him, laughing like he couldn’t help himself. “Yeah, I definitely want.”
Rhodey leaned in to kiss him again but was interrupted by the oven timer going off. He had to make do with the quick peck that Tony gave him before he whirled around to take the muffins out, bending forward and giving Rhodey the chance to ogle his ass instead.
“Hey,” he said. “I like your muffins.”
Tony glanced over his shoulder to give him a smile, then saw where his gaze had landed and snorted instead. “Really?” he asked, but he couldn’t stop his lips from curling up in a smile. “There’s something wrong with you.” He turned back to the muffins, and Rhodey didn’t miss the little hip wiggle he gave, drawing attention right back to his ass.
When he finished setting them out to cool he turned back to Rhodey, stepping in close until they were almost chest to chest. “Hey, so, I’ve got an idea,” he told him. “It’s raining. You wanna open all the windows, grab a bunch of blankets and watch a movie?”
“Are you bringing the muffins?” Rhodey asked, reaching down to squeeze Tony’s ass. Tony burst out laughing, burying his face against Rhodey’s chest, which was really nice.
“Yeah,” he told him when he could speak again. “Yeah, I’ll bring the muffins.”
“Well in that case, I’m all in.”
Rhodey left to grab the blankets from their bedrooms, and when he came back Tony had the lights low, the windows open, and a plate of muffins sitting on the coffee table.
“Hey,” Rhodey said, coming up behind him and rubbing a hand over his spine, making Tony shiver. “You wanna read Lord of the Rings instead?”
He’d meant it as a genuine offer, but when Tony turned around, hands on his hips, he looked incredibly put out. “Seriously? You can’t make out with me if you’re reading, dumbass.”
And well, he had a point. Rhodey shrugged, conceding. “Movies it is!”