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Tony Stark dodges a blow to his right shoulder, only to realize too late it wasn’t the real target. Captain America knocks his feet out from under him and he hits the mats like one of Cap’s punching bags. Tony puts his hands up in surrender. The gesture is somewhat mocking, but in reality his right knee isn’t feeling completely fantastic. Practically living in the Iron Man suit for three months didn’t do Tony any favors, and without Extremis…well, he was never able to compete with Cap.
Steve Rogers begins to quirk his lips in a small, triumphant smile. The gesture, still automatic, was once frequently directed at Iron Man. Steve quickly turns around to hide it and makes his way over to one of the gym benches, grabbing a towel. He's clearly not worn out like Tony is, but still managed to work up a good sweat. Draping the towel across his shoulders, Steve leans against a nearby wall and slides to the floor. He's missed this. And wasn't that a sobering thought?
Tony notices the change in atmosphere and grabs a couple of water bottles from the cooler. He tosses one to Steve, then collapses to the floor as he takes a long gulp of some H2O. They sit in almost awkward silence for a moment. Despite hugging it out after Asgard, Tony was still unsettled. Not over the hug, but because it had dredged up old feelings Tony'd had about Cap long before Civil War. And now there was a palpable tension between them. They were working themselves back to normal, but still dancing around each other like they had in the early Avenger days. It unearthed a little glimmer of hope Tony thought buried and gone.
Did Steve feel it too? Maybe there had always been something there—something mutual—even before SHRA. Tony looks over to Steve whose resting his head against the wall with his eyes closed. It seemed like Steve was finally letting down some barriers. Learning to trust Tony again. So maybe this wasn't the best idea, but Tony’d been a few gunshots too late before. No time like the present, right?
“You know sometimes I wonder…”
“What?” Steve asks.
“Well, if I hadn’t been Iron Man and you hadn’t been Captain America. And you and I had just-- met.”
Steve opens his eyes and glances over briefly. Civil War. “I know.”
“Yeah, yeah. I would have asked for your number. And I wouldn’t have been able to wait 24 hours before calling you up and saying ‘hey, how bout some coffee, or drinks, or dinner, or a movie’….for as long as we both shall live.”
Steve’s eyebrows shoot up and he leans forward, confused. This is most definitely not the conversation he had been expecting. “Tony…”
But Tony, not to be deterred, continues on. “And you and I would never have been at war. And the only thing we’d fight about would be which video to rent on a Saturday night.”
“Well, who fights about that?”
“Some people…Not us.”
“We would never.”
Tony smiles softly at the playful turn of conversation, but he looks down, avoiding eye contact. “…if only.”
Steve’s Avengers ID beeps, signaling him about whatever new disaster has been cooked up to terrorize New York. “Damn.” He looks down at the message. He was almost relieved to read Dr. Doom had unleashed Doom Bots on Central Park. This conversation was bringing up a whole slew of things Steve had buried a long time ago. And he didn’t know if he was ready to face them yet. “I gotta go.”
Tony looks back up, eyes wide and startled back into action by the interruption. “Look—before you go rushing off with the cavalry, let me ask you something…” He looks away for a moment, then focuses his eyes back on Steve. “How can you—”
The ID goes off again, the alert more insistent this time. Tony swallows his words with apparent distress, but Steve is not equipped to handle this right now. Nor does he have the time. He turns away to hide the rising internal panic and grabs his shield, leaning against the wall behind him. Dr. Doom is something he does know how to deal with. “I really have to go.”
When he turns back around, shield in hand, Tony’s face has closed itself off. He looks down and then up, giving Steve a tight smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, well—you don’t want to be late.”