Chapter Text
“It’s a party, Steve,” Natasha had said indulgently, swiftly destroying Steve’s last excuse to not go. “You can’t possibly be a third wheel when there’s eight hundred people in the room.”
He had still felt that way though, squished into the backseat of the taxi with Natasha and Bucky, trailing behind them they presented their tickets at the door.
He had already got in a few words with Bruce Banner, one of the doctors who was involved with Bucky’s prosthetics program, before the good doc got called away, and that was the extent of the people he knew at the event. His suit felt stuffy.
By the time the first hour had rolled by, he found himself watching Nat and Bucky sweep between the other couples on the dance floor as he leaned against the wall and fiddled with his watch as if the hands might tick a little faster.
Their shared history of dance was particularly obvious, and Steve from his position of people-watching was aware of the many glances of awe the couple received. Some of it probably had to do with Nat’s blood red and dramatic gown drawing eyes, and the gleam of Bucky’s metal prosthetic as it held her through the steps.
They moved so in sync and wrapped up in each other, that Steve no longer felt like a third wheel. No, by this point, he was about as drab in comparison as the drapes hanging beside him.
The song ended, and for a moment Steve hoped that they might see him. Bucky would no doubt come over so he wasn’t alone, Nat might try and introduce him to another socialite with no interest in him aside from how he looked.
Another song started up, and his friends seemed perfectly content to continue dancing.
Steve fished his phone from his pocket and sent Bucky off a quick text, to let him know what he was doing if he ended up checking later.
He cut through the room full of strangers. He knew he could have tried harder to engage the people there. There were other prosthetics recipients in the room. Even a few others were veterans like he and Bucky. He just didn’t want too tonight.
He retrieved his coat and stepped out into the cold December air, shoulders hunching instinctively. The street was busy. Steve liked it that way, getting a lost in the bustle of last-minute holiday shoppers and people rushing room from work. Everyone with somewhere to go. He hiked up his collar against the wind, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and took off to the right.
The lights of the coffee stood out even amongst the city lights – entirely too many strings of red and green lights strung across the foggy windows in an excessive amount of holiday cheer. Inside, a version of Little Drummer Boy played in the background, the tables were full, but the line-up was remarkably short. Steve smiled as he took his place behind a shorter, dark-haired man also in a suit.
It didn’t take long for it to be the dark-haired man’s turn. Steve almost laughed when he overheard his order. Extra large, extra shots, extra whipped cream. The girl at the cash in an elf hat read off his total.
The man reached into his back pocket… and came up empty-handed. He patted his other pockets in quick succession, and Steve had no problem imagining what his expression was simply from the sag of his shoulders.
“I… don’t have my wallet.” The man admitted, sounding a little stunned. “Wow. I mean, Pepper always said I would lose my head if it wasn’t screwed on, but… coffee!” He made a sad little gesture towards the cup that one of the other staff members had just set at the pick-up window.
The girl at the cash hesitated, as if contemplating how to break it the man.
“Look – if you just give me a couple minutes, maybe I can-“
“I got it.” Steve said, stepping up beside the man. It was almost Christmas, after all. “No worries.” He rattled off his order too and handed over his card.
He got his first real look at the man whose coffee he was buying and sent a quick note of thanks that he wasn’t holding anything yet, because he might have dropped it at his first look.
The guy was gorgeous. Big chocolate brown eyes looking up at him, dark hair artfully tussled and immaculately trimmed facial hair framing his mouth and drawing Steve’s attention to his jawline.
“My hero,” he all but purred, and Steve found himself fighting down a blush like he’d never received a compliment before.
“I couldn’t let a fellow human being go without coffee.” Steve blurted, and he was rewarded with a blinding smile.
“What about company? Are you going to let me go without some company while I enjoy this?” The man questioned boldly.
Steve laughed, surprised. “That was smooth.”
“Did it work?” He asked playfully. There was no assumption in the man’s tone. Steve knew he could say no and that would be the end of it. He wouldn’t push.
For the first time in a long time, he didn’t want to say no.
He grabbed his coffee, the comforting warmth seeping through to his fingers immediately. He took a chance. “I’m actually going across the street to check out the Christmas trees in the park. Have you seen them yet?”
“Be my guide?” He asked
“Steve.” He introduced himself.
He got a coffee cup tipped his way in an imitation of a salute. “Tony.”
Tony bumped the door open with his shoulder and gestured outside with his empty hand. “Lead the way.”
Steve had considered coming to see the trees a dozen times, but each time he’d been distracted, or another obligation had come up. There were over fifty decorated this year, each one decorated by a different business, charity, or sometimes just a family. Then the park added a few benches and signs along the path, and created in Steve’s opinion one of the best holiday activities in the city.
There was something magical about being surrounded by the trees, everything lit up by thousands and thousands of different colored bulbs. The colors reflected in Tony’s eyes, and the man smiled when the entered the park.
“I’ve never been inside, you know?” He commented. “I’ve driven by, of course.”
“It’s been a few years since I’ve come. My best friend, Bucky? His girlfriend’s ballet studio did a tree one year, otherwise I’m not even sure I’d know about this.”
Some of the trees were traditional, some modern and bright with pinks and yellows. Unique, too. There was one near the entrance decorated with dozens of toy cars.
“Huh. Look at this one!” Tony exclaimed. Steve crowded closer to see. “That’s a lot of gingerbread.” Each gingerbread figure had it’s own face and different colored decorations. He laughed, and Steve followed his gaze to see as Tony held his paper cup up to the sign to showcase the matching logos.
“I guess they had to participate. It’s right across the street.” Steve grinned.
“Alright, what else have we got?”
Tony ended up leading the way, as eager as a kid, and Steve was more than happy to watch him bounce from one tree to the next. Some of them – the most eye-catching trees, for one reason or another – made them pause longer, and playfully critique them.
“That is a lot of sparkly garland for the… Henry Hall Children’s Hospital.” Steve peered at the plaque.
“I think the garland to ornament ratio is expertly done.” Tony told him seriously, even as his mouth twitched in amusement.
As they moved through the trees it felt like they were in a whole other world, the noise of New York seeming to dim inside the trees. It was peaceful, even the other people they passed – mostly couples this time of night – were equally lost in their own worlds.
A little part of Steve couldn’t believe how easily they clicked. A few laps around the park and he felt like he’d known Tony his whole life. The conversation flowed easily, moving from funny Christmas traditions to well-meaning best friends to the best donuts in the city without a hiccup. Tony talked a mile a minute with an enthusiasm that made Steve feel alive, and yet it was never one-sided. He always seemed eager to hear Steve’s opinions, excited even when Steve fought him over the city highlights.
The man in question turned and caught his eye, mouth flicking up in a smile as he paused his tirade.
“What?” Tony tilted his head. “Something on my face?”
Maybe Steve had been staring a while, but he didn’t look away. Tony was worth staring at.
He shook his head.
They slowed down a bit after their drinks were done, any lingering warmth drank up. Instead, they found themselves brushing shoulders as they walked.
“So, you came all the way to look at Christmas trees in a three-piece?” Tony asked.
Steve grinned. “Nah. My friends took me to a party, if you can believe it.”
“Very fancy. I’m actually supposed to be on my way to this Christmas charity event.” Tony admitted.
“I just came from there,” Steve said. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised, what with Tony being as well dressed as he was.
“I guess it wasn’t much of a party if you bailed this early?” Tony joked, eyes crinkling.
Steve shrugged one shoulder. “I only really went as a favor to my friends. It’s not really my scene.”
“I get that. Pep makes me go to these things. It’s part of the job.”
“Where do you work?”
There was a beat of silence. He turned to face Tony, not sure what he’d see, but he was just looking up at Steve curiously.
“You don’t know who I am, do you?” Tony asked.
Steve frowned, confused. He quickly played back their conversation, wracking his brain in case he missed something. Tony was so easy to talk to, but the had only met a few hours ago.
He pointed up, to the tallest building across the street
“You work there?” Steve guessed.
“I own it.” Tony told him. “I’m the Stark in Stark Industries.”
“You’re the…” Steve stuttered. “Tony Stark? You’re famous! You’re a genius. You inherited your father’s company and switched out the weapons manufacturing for a medical line…. Of course you were going to the event! You’re responsible for the prosthetics line. My best friend was part of your trial group – he’s had his for two years now, it’s changed his life. I don’t know how to thank you!” Steve rambled. Tony’s mouth had parted slightly during his word vomit, and Steve was almost distracted by how much he still wanted to kiss him when he realized,
“You’re a billionaire. I bought you a coffee.” Steve wailed, embarrassed. Tony could probably buy Steve’s apartment a hundred times over and not bat an eye.
“I really did forget my wallet.” Tony assured him. “It’s not even the first time. You saved my life. I do not joke about coffee.”
Steve sagged dejectedly. The first time in ages he meets a guy he and actually wants things to go somewhere, and the man in question is so far out of his league it’s nothing but funny.
“You're you,” Steve said. “Why did you say yes?”
Tony looked at him. “Why would I say no? Big, tall, handsome stranger buys me a coffee?” It’s a joke, delivered softly with a wry quirk of Tony’s lips and quick glance up and down Steve’s body to sell it. Just as quickly he grew serious, and his eyes went soft and he corrected himself. “It was just nice, you know? You didn't want a photo or an autograph. You didn't want to yell at me. I've had a lot of strangers yell at me in the street. You just seemed like a good man, Steve.”
“Sometimes I don't feel like it.” Steve said quietly, something vulnerable slipping out into the night.
Tony shook his head. “You wouldn't let a stranger who’s too dumb to remember his wallet go without his coffee. You went with your friends even though you didn't want to you. Steve, you served your country. You always hold the door open too, don’t you? Give up your seat on the subway?”
Steve laughed. “I hate to ruin this idea you have of me…”
“Ah! Nope. You won’t convince me otherwise!” Tony crowed.
“If I remember correctly, you held the door open for me.” Steve commented.
Tony misunderstood. “Not such a good man,” he said, and Steve realized Tony was talking about himself, and he had inadvertently given him an opening to compare them. Steve wondered if it was a warning he felt obligated to give. “If you knew what I left behind.”
“That's the whole point, isn't it? You left it behind. I know you're trying to do better. You're trying to help the world back together.” Steve replied stubbornly.
“You,” Tony joked, giving back into their earlier lightness. “are good for the ego. I might just have to keep you around.”
“I hope you do.”
“Steve.” Tony said suddenly, firmly, reaching out to grab his wrist, his fingers a shock of cold against Steve’s skin. “Steve, you let me be myself tonight. Not someone famous, not someone who has to pretend and pander and play the game. You have no idea what it means to me to have this night with no expectations. I could just be Tony. I can’t thank you enough for that.”
“Really?” He asked, a twinge of skepticism infusing the word despite his efforts.
“Really. And I’ve had the most fun tonight that I’ve had in a long time.”
“Me too.” Steve told him honestly.
“And I’d like to do it again.” He slid his hand down Steve’s skin until their palms were touching and their fingers laced together. “Steve – are you doing anything tomorrow night?”
“Tomorrow night is Christmas Eve.”
“Is that a yes?” Tony asked.
Steve paused. “No. No, I’m not.” He could if he wanted. Bucky would always crack open a cold one with him to celebrate, but he was seeing them on the twenty-fifth anyways for gifts.
“Meet me here. On Christmas Eve.” Tony smiled widely.
He nodded vigorously. “I’d love to.”
Steve hovered in front of the mirror. He glanced at the clock. He really didn’t have time to try on another shirt and pants combo, however last night Tony had seen him in a suit. He didn’t want to show up to completely underdressed.
He looked at his closet again. And laughed at himself. If this date could be made or broken by the dark jeans vs light jeans, he should probably just give up now.
He hovered by the park entrance for a while, scanning the crows that came through. Christmas Eve was a lot busier than the night before, with families coming out to in droves. Minutes ticked by, though, and Tony never showed.
He perched on the edge of an empty bench, hands sliding together for friction and still no sign of Tony.
He worried that he had missed him altogether. Could Tony have gone into the trees to try and find him? He lingered by the Café’s gingerbread tree, and the top hat tree, and the robot tree that Tony had gotten such a kick out of.
Steve walked the path twice, until the crowds had died back and they were well past their meeting time.
He shoved his hands into his pockets.
He wasn’t sure what he was thinking. Maybe he’d watched too many Christmas movies, but there was no magic here. No miracle that would bring the perfect guy.
No. Tony never showed.
Steve went home.