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Steve categorically refuses to show up at any of Stark’s parties, but it’s the holidays, and he’s trying to be—nicer. More approachable. This is a team event. There’s people banking on him showing up. Looking forward to it even, although Steve knows better than to believe Stark when he heartfeltly proclaims You were missed last night, darling.
But he’s here now, against his better judgment, wearing a scratchy button down and holding a hastily wrapped bottle of scotch. He’s loath to gift Stark alcohol, but the only other option Steve could think of was flowers.
And he’s obviously not getting Stark flowers.
No one notices him when he shows up, which is just fine by him. He grabs a drink from a hovering scantily-glad woman with blinking antlers, hands over the gift, and goes to find the nearest empty corner to observe his surroundings.
Stark’s over by the other corner, laughing with Fury, of all people. Jan’s not around, although she might be…Steve turns toward the balcony and there she is, laughing and smoking with two women Steve doesn’t recognize. Looking lovely, in a low cut shimmery red dress, her arms bare. It must be cold out there—
But that’s none of Steve’s concern anymore.
Jan’s made it quite clear what she thinks of him. He sets his jaw, and turns to make his rounds. After a moment, he’s dismayed to find out that everyone’s either dressed normally or wearing ugly Christmas sweaters. Stark’s wearing pajamas. Granted, silky, shimmery ones, but pajamas all the same. Steve feels silly in his blue button down and nicest pair of pants.
He feels silly having come, at all.
He watches Stark for another moment, considers going up to greet him, but right as he’s about to take a step forward, a blonde falls into Stark’s arms, spilling wine all over him. Stark laughs, because of course he does.
Steve scoffs, looking back toward the balcony—and almost drops his drink when he finds Jan watching him. They watch each other for a moment, then she waves him over. Steve drains his drink and, after a brief moment of hesitation, decides to follow her invitation.
"Hello, Steve," Jan says, when he steps through the balcony door.
"Jan," Steve replies with a nod.
Her mouth curls into a smirk. "Looking good."
Steve grunts.
Jan keeps watching him, raising an unlit cigarette to her mouth.
Steve fights the urge to cross his arms over his chest. "How’ve you been?"
Jan hums. "Good." She lights her cigarette. "I’ve been thinking of you."
Steve sets his jaw. He’s not sure he wants to hear whatever it is that she’s been thinking of. It was bad enough hearing how boring and old-fashioned he is once.
Jan laughs around a curl of smoke. "Enjoying the party?"
Steve shrugs.
Jan snorts again, flicking her cigarette. "I have."
Steve frowns. He’s not sure what Jan’s telling him right now. Back with Hank, he supposes. But Steve hasn’t seen him around—
"Tony’s on a mission to kiss everyone under the mistletoe," Jan goes on with a smirk. "And I was just tipsy enough to let him have a go."
Steve’s mind screeches to a halt.
"Told myself I wouldn’t ever go there, but…" She shrugs. "I couldn’t help myself. He’s got a rather kissable mouth, doesn’t he."
"Can’t say I’ve ever noticed," Steve replies, trying not to let it show how much it bothers him that Jan and Stark—kissed.
Jan laughs at the look on his face. "Oh, Steve, loosen up. It’s just a silly little holiday tradition." She flicks her cigarette away and steps closer, one dainty hand trailing up Steve’s button down. "I’ve missed you."
Steve scoffs, but he’s admittedly thrown by the sudden change in tone.
Jan edges closer. "Did you miss me?"
Steve swallows. "I’ve been thinking of you," he admits.
Jan smiles. "I’m sorry I’ve been so hard on you," she says after a beat, "But I meant what I said. I can’t be with a man that’s so," She looks away from him. "That’s so set in his ways, you know."
Steve sets his jaw. That’s somehow worse than what she said last time. Steve knows he’s set. Literally. Figuratively. "I can change," he finds himself saying, even as he hates the words coming out of his mouth. Why would he contort himself, be something he isn’t for another person? He’s hardly one for romance, but isn’t taking someone as they are the cornerstone of love?
Jan watches him. "I want to believe that."
Steve steps closer. Considers taking her hand. Jan puts another cigarette in her mouth, her mouth curling into a smirk. Steve feels dread settle low in his gut. "How about this…you go in there and lay one on Tony, and I’ll consider going out with you again."
Steve’s eyes widen.
Jan laughs at the look in his face, moving to side-step him without waiting for a reply. She thinks—
Well, Steve knows what she thinks. Against his better judgment, he finds himself asking, "You mean it?"
Jan stills, arching one eyebrow.
"One kiss," Steve says. After a moment’s thought, he adds. "A peck." He’s not going to kiss Stark with tongue. A little peck with both hands firmly curled by his sides, he can manage. If it’s going to get him Jan’s approval. Steve hates himself for wanting it, but it’s too late. He already agreed, and Jan’s looking like the cat that got the cream. He can’t back out now.
Jan’s mouth twitches like he’s trying not to laugh, but she nods after a moment. Steve steels himself and heads back inside.
Stark’s still in the same corner he was in when Steve showed up, this time talking to a brunette. Steve hasn’t noticed earlier, but there’s a shiny red sprig of mistletoe tied over their heads. He makes a face. So when he’d seen Stark there earlier with Fury, he’d—
Steve doesn’t even want to imagine it.
"Stark," he says when he steps up to them, making the woman flinch.
Stark turns toward him with a lazy grin. There’s a smudge of pink lipstick on his left cheek. "Yes, darling?"
"Can I have a word?"
Stark shrugs one shoulder, pushing away from the wall.
"No," Steve cuts in, heart beating faster. "Here."
Stark’s eyebrows go up. Steve turns toward the woman until she gets the memo and excuses herself.
Stark’s watching him when Steve turns back toward him. "There better be a very good reason why you’ve decided to interrupt my conversation with lovely Charlotte here. She was just telling me she’s never—"
"I’m here for my kiss," Steve cuts in.
Stark’s mouth snaps shut.
"Jan dared me," Steve hastens to add, lest Stark think he’s irresistible, or Steve’s about to humor his antics in the future. He won’t. He’s here for his peck, and then he’ll find Jan and hopefully she’ll—
His thoughts come to a halt when he sees the look on Stark’s face. He has a hard time categorizing anything he sees on Stark’s face, but now the tension is plain to see. Steve straightens up. It just occurs to him that Jan might’ve been making fun of him, and the whole time Stark was just kissing women, or no one at all, for that matter—
"Well," Stark says finally, his ever-present smirk firmly back in place, "They do say a man does everything for the right women."
"Yes or no?" Steve asks, impatient. The right woman is over 80 and married to his best friend, actually, but he’s not sharing that with Stark.
Stark raises one challenging eyebrow. "Go on, then."
Steve swallows heavily. He wasn’t aware he was the one having to do the kissing.
But Stark doesn’t move, save for pushing himself up from the wall again. His hands are by his side, face open, looking deceptively pliant. Steve doesn’t buy it, but he’s on a mission here. He steels himself and leans in to brush his lips against Stark’s, hands shoved in his pants. It’s not...bad, he has to admit after a moment. Really not all that different from kissing a woman, aside from the pleasant scratch of Stark’s beard. Steve finds himself tilting his head to the side, hands twitching with the sudden urge to touch, and that’s. That’s dangerous. He makes himself pull away after barely a second.
"You done?" Stark says, looking bored.
Steve nods dumbly. Stark huffs and—
Turns to leave.
"Stark," Steve begins, and then has no idea how to go on.
"Congratulations, you’re no longer boring," Stark says with a smirk. "Enjoy my party. Oh, and don’t forget to use protection." He winks and disappears without waiting for Steve to reply. Steve looks after him, heart thudding loudly in his chest for no reason. Thinks of following him, but why would he do such a thing?
He shakes himself and looks around in search of Jan. Jan’s looking at him already from across the room, looking gleeful. Steve feels tired suddenly at the thought of going over, but hadn’t that been the whole point?
"The look on his face," Jan says with a laugh when he appears at her side.
Yes, the look on his face. Steve can’t forget it. He spends the next hour mingling at her side, only half listening to whatever everyone else’ saying. His gaze keeps wandering, waiting to find Stark laugh or flirt or kiss, but he doesn’t reappear from where he’s run off to. Steve feels a tug of disappointment he can’t explain low in his gut.
"Are you taking me home?" Jan says when the conversations have died down, and people are starting to leave.
"Not tonight," Steve replies, and doesn’t even feel guilty over it.
Jan hums, but doesn’t look too bothered. She leans in and kisses his cheek, smelling strongly of booze and sweet perfume. "Good night, Steve. Give me a call, hm?"
Steve nods, forcing a smile on his face. He helps her put on her coat, then watches her leave, leaned up against the doorway. He should be getting home, too, he knows, but the urge to talk it out with Stark is like an itch under his skin. One he shouldn’t follow up on, but he already knows he will. He looks down the hallway toward where he knows Stark’s bedroom is, considering. The chances that he’ll interrupt Stark doing questionable things with with one (or more) women are high, but that’s what knocking is for.
He’s not expecting a response, really, when he finally musters up the courage to knock, but Stark’s reply comes immediately. "Not now, Jarvis." He sounds subdued even through the door.
"It’s me," Steve replies, clearing his throat.
Silence for a long time. "What do you want."
"Can I come in?"
Another beat. "Fine."
Steve opens the door a crack. Stark’s in bed, wearing a different satiny pajama and dressing gown, less pompous than what he usually walks around in. He doesn’t look well. Steve keeps forgetting just how ill he is. He feels stupid, all of a sudden, for the entire evening. Obviously Stark hadn’t disappeared because of him. The man is suffering from cancer, for heaven’s sake.
"What do you want?" Stark asks again when Steve doesn’t speak immediately, face tense.
Steve thinks he’d rather have caught Stark fucking than seeing him look so—frail. Straightening up, he says, "I wanted to apologize."
Stark arches one eyebrow. "Whatever for, Steve?"
"Earlier, I shouldn’t have—"
Stark barks out a loud laugh, cutting Steve off. "Don’t flatter yourself, I haven’t disappeared because of you. I’ve got an unrelenting headache that’s been bothering me all day." He pinches the bridge of his nose. "If anything, you did me a favor. Charlotte’s very pretty, but she was starting to get on my nerves."
Steve grits his teeth, regretting having come here. Stark smirks, reaching for the glass on his bedside table. "I’m guessing your ploy didn’t work, considering you’re here and not in Jan’s loving embrace."
Steve scoffs. "There was no ploy. And Jan wanted to come home with me, but…" He breaks off, folding his arms over his chest. He doesn’t have to explain himself.
Stark’s eyebrows go up his head. "You blew her off."
"I did not—blow her off," Steve replies. "I just was not feeling like it tonight."
Stark snorts. "Not afraid she’ll fall right back into Hank’s arms?"
"Jan is a grown woman. She can do whatever she likes."
Stark hums, watching him over the rim of his glass. He doesn’t speak again, and Steve really ought to leave, but he finds himself opening his mouth again. "I apologize if I made you uncomfortable earlier."
Stark rolls his eyes. "It takes a lot more than a kiss to make me uncomfortable, Steve, believe me. Don’t worry your pretty little head over it."
Steve sets his jaw. "It’s just."
Stark thunks his head against his headboard, letting out a loud sigh.
"I can’t help feeling like you’ve…” Steve pauses. “You looked…upset, for a second there."
There was a lot on Stark’s face, actually, but Steve doesn’t have the words for it.
Stark’s face twitches. "Yeah, well, I thought you were about to beat my face into a bloody pulp if I said yes."
Steve frowns. "Is that what you think of me?"
Stark’s face hardens. "What do you want from me, Steve?"
Steve folds his arms over his chest. Good question. He has no idea, really, why he keeps pestering Stark when Stark’s made it abundantly clear that he doesn’t give a damn. "Nothing,” he says finally, with a frown, “I apologize for barging in. I just…well, I hope this doesn’t mess up our friendship going forward."
It sounds like an empty platitude, but Steve means it. They are far from close, but he considers them friends nevertheless. He curses himself for letting Jan goad him into this. It’s clear to him now that it’s been a big mistake, in more ways than one.
"I assure you, it does not," Stark says after a beat. He pauses, pursing his lips. "However, the way you keep going on and on about it does make me wonder if it’s not you that’s uncomfortable—"
Steve opens his mouth.
"Curious, even, one could say," Stark finishes, arching one eyebrow.
Steve glares.
"Are you?" Stark asks, face oddly serious. Steve would’ve preferred him to be smirking. He straightens up, opening his mouth again to bid him good night—
"Kiss me again," Stark says.
Steve’s mouth snaps shut.
"Properly this time," Stark continues. "The way you wanted." A pause. "The way I wanted you to."
"This isn’t funny, Stark," Steve says, having found his voice again after an endless feeling minute.
"No, it isn’t," Stark says, frowning. "I apologize, I have no idea what I’m saying. The chemo medication always leaves me groggy and disoriented." He looks small again, all of a sudden, like a switch being turned, sliding down into his pillows, one trembling hand drawing over his eyes. "Just leave, please."
Steve swallows heavily. He wants to, but once again, his feet do the opposite. He finds himself striding up to Tony and sitting down next to him. Tony’s jaw twitches, fingers curling in his blanket.
"What can I do to help?" Steve asks.
Tony looks at him in silence for a long moment, then a smirk materializes on his face. "Well, handsome, I wouldn’t say no to a massage and a dirty martini."
Steve knows it’s a joke, but he nods. "Fine, turn around."
Tony blinks. "Oh, you were serious? My, my, Steve, you’ve—"
"Yes or no, Tony. Last chance before I leave," Steve cuts in before he can hear yet another smart remark.
"I want you to leave," Tony replies, but then he heaves a great sigh and turns around, letting his dressing glown slide down his arms. He throws Steve a coy look over his shoulder. "Show me what those hands can do, darling. Ouch. You did that on purpose!"
"What?" Steve asks, lifting his hands in a gesture of innocence.
Tony grumbles but turns back around.
This time, when Steve puts his hands back on Tony, he makes sure to be extra gentle, soothing the knotted muscle in Tony’s neck and shoulder. He’s tense all over. It feels like the biggest reward when Tony lets out a sigh after a while, body loosening. Steve tentatively trails his hands upwards, along his nape to massage the base of his scalp. Tony shivers. It’s—
It’s a lot. Steve swallows, digging his thumbs in. Tony makes a loud ugh sound. Steve twitches his hands away. "Did I hurt you?"
Tony huffs. "No." A beat. "You’re very good at this."
Steve doesn’t reply, mostly because he has no idea what to say. Tony doesn’t speak again, either. Probably wondering who exactly Steve has been massaging in his spare time. Himself, actually, when his body hurts so bad he can’t stand it. The serum helps with the healing, but it doesn’t spare him the pain.
"Steve," Tony says all of a sudden, his tone oddly loud in the quiet. Steve pauses in his ministrations. "I apologize for what I’ve just said. I…tend to speak first and think later when it comes to you."
It’s not denial, Steve realizes after a moment. He bites his lip, considering. "So you meant it."
There’s a moment of silence. "Well, you’re rather pretty, when you’re not yelling. Who wouldn’t want to have a...taste?"
Steve frowns.
"Offended by my calling you pretty, I can tell even without turning around," Tony says with a snort. "Well, you are, darling."
Steve doesn’t reply, continuing to draw his hands along Tony’s shoulder.
"That’s enough, thank you," Tony says after a beat. Steve blinks, lifting his hands with a start. He’s forgotten the time, somehow.
"Thank you," Tony says again, dropping in a heap in his pillows. He looks miles better than he did just a few minutes ago, but Steve knows better than to think he could ever help him in any tangible way. "I would like to sleep now," Tony says, making a show of stretching and closing his eyes.
Steve narrows his eyes. "We’re talking about this when you feel better."
"Must we?" Tony asks with a beleaguered expression on his face. "What about Jan?"
"Jan and me are done," Steve says, and is surprised to find that he means it.
"So you hop right onto the next colleague?" Tony asks. "Steve, you sly dog."
Steve makes a face, and gets up. "Good night, Tony."
"Good night, Steve," Tony replies, all traces of humor gone from his face in an instant.
Steve returns his gaze for a long moment, then turns toward the door. Right before he steps through the archway, he turns back around. Tony’s asleep, or pretending to be anyway, face lax and relaxed for the first time all evening. Steve watches him for another moment, then steps through the door, the door closing behind him with a soft click.
It’s quiet outside, the music turned off, the last stragglers probably gone. A glance at his watch tells him he’s been in Tony’s bedroom for close to half an hour. Huh. It hadn’t felt that long. He nods good night at a nearby hovering Jarvis, dusting off a table that probably doesn’t need any dusting off, and heads home.
It’s odd, he thinks as he’s sitting in the packed subway. He hadn’t wanted to come at all, at first, and then he’d wanted to impress Jan, and now.
And now he’s thinking about letting Tony Stark kiss him. Oh, hell. He buries his face in his hands, feeling a hysterical laugh bubbling out of him.
Well, this’ll certainly be an interesting new year.