Chapter Text
Steve had been watching Tony for quite some time already. If he was honest with himself, it had started before Tony and Pepper broke up and even before Steve had found out how much the rules of sexuality had changed in the past 70 years.
At first Steve didn’t like Tony. He was a new breed of bully - one that delivered his kicks and punches with his wit and used his status and wealth and intelligence as a bludgeon. In Steve’s time, the wealthy and the intelligent showed their superiority through hauty, barbed politeness, not childish, petty rudeness that practically justified a punch.
But Tony was also a more complicated man that Steve knew in his time. The men Steve knew were fighting a war or had recently returned from one. They survived the Depression and they knew to take pleasure in the simple things in life. They knew to fight for your country and for the man beside you and to stop the spread of evil. They knew that a man protected a dame and he worked to provide for his family. His wants were simple: a good job, a family, a house on a safe street where the kids could grow up. A man’s ambition was limited to his station, his honor to the tales told by his father, his chivalry to the culture of the time.
Instead of a man striving towards his simple view of happiness, Tony seemed to follow his own law of motion: for every amazing, honorable intention, there was an inconsiderate, bohrish reaction. It was as though trying to be happy was too straightforward for Tony and he needed to put as many roadblocks in his own way as possible in order to make it more of a challenge. And if anyone should dare try to love him, he would test that love by making himself a giant obstacle to its success. He could be heroic and self-sacrificing and generous in one minute and then say the most hurtful, dismissive thing the next and Steve simply couldn’t figure out why.
But in the midst of that mind-boggling complexity, Tony was a good man. He was the man who would jump onto the grenade (after all other options had been exhausted, of course) and the whirlwind of brilliance that made up his mind enticed Steve as much as it terrified him.
Tony reminded Steve of Howard in so many ways - his quick wit, his simple confidence in his own brilliance, his unwavering loyalty. But Tony was also missing Howard’s restraint and his easy charm. Tony was absolutely charming in his own puckish way, but while Howard’s charm said ‘I just met him, but this is a man I would trust my family with,’ Tony’s was more ‘let him keep talking so we can see what he’ll do next.’ Steve had loved Howard, though never romantically, and it warmed Steve to know that much of him lived on in his son.
But the thing that interested Steve the most about Tony was the fact that even at age 45, he was an ever-evolving mirror-maze of a man whose hurt and joy were marbled through his many layers, waiting to be uncovered in the most surprising of places. Unlike the many dames Bucky had tried to set Steve up with or the men who occasionally warmed his bedroll, Steve doubted he would ever cease learning new things about Tony. If Steve was doomed to live the long life the serum promised, he could only imagine living it with someone who would be constantly in motion.
So now Steve stood at the door to Tony’s lab wearing his best Oxford and a “nice” pair of jeans (wasn’t that a concept, that jeans could be “nice”). But Clint had explained that was how men dressed on dates in this century and numerous films had confirmed it. His palms didn’t sweat like they used to, but Steve rubbed them against his pants compulsively anyway. Steve had never asked anyone to go on a date. The idea to go dancing had been mutual between himself and Peggy and every “date” (if they could even be called that) before that had been a double with Bucky doing the asking.
Clint had been incredibly unhelpful and told him to, ‘just goddamned ask already. I’m already tired of watching you pine after him pathetically.’ Thor had provided many suggestions, none of which could possibly be an appropriate Earth tradition (they didn’t even have love dragons, let alone the ability to present an intended with the still-beating heart of one). Steve could never ask a lady such an impertinent question and Bruce just blushed and said he’d rather stay out of it, so Steve was on his own.
He didn’t think that Tony would appreciate flowers, so he brought him a chocolate croissant from the little bakery Tony always pestered Jarvis to make deliver.
Tony didn’t look up from the welding work he was doing on some something-or-other. Steve had made sure that it was a project that didn’t need Bruce and Clint and Natasha were out on some spy business and Thor on Asgard visiting Loki in prison, so Steve hoped he wouldn’t be interrupted.
After watching Tony work for a minute or two, Steve cleared his throat. “So I brought you a croissant,” Steve murmured.
Tony put down his tool and stretched out a hand for the croissant, but didn’t meet Steve’s eyes. Instead he stared at the circuitry, almost looking mildly offended that it hadn’t assembled itself as he wanted. The moan he made when he bit into the croissant was the only indication that Tony was not completely focused on his work.
Steve thought maybe he should just leave. But he was Captain America; he didn’t back down from a mission, especially not one so ostensibly easy as this one. “Um, Tony, I was wondering if you would like to see a movie with me?”
“Which one?” Tony asked.
Steve hadn’t planned for that. In his day, there was usually only one movie at the theater at a time. “Whatever you want to see.”
“Okay,” Tony replied, licking his fingers and pulling down his safety screen before he started welding again. “I guess we haven’t introduced you to Indiana Jones yet. I don’t know that Indy’s the kind of character that will appeal to Thor, so we can watch it without him. Give me another half hour and I’ll meet you in the screening room.”
This was not going as Steve planned. He knew that he should just watch the movie with Tony. Clint had mentioned that a lot of friends became lovers by ‘hanging out’ first. But if Clint wasn’t going to elaborate on exactly how that happened, then Steve decided that he needed to stick with what he knew. “I would love to. But maybe some other time we could go out to see something.”
“If you want the new stuff, I can order that too. It’ll take maybe a day to get it delivered, but I don’t have a screening room for nothing.”
Was this a polite way to turn Steve down or just what life was like as a multi-billionaire? Steve pressed on. “I thought maybe I could take you out to dinner first and then we could go to a theater.”
Tony put down his welding equipment, finally looking at Steve. He took in at the outfit, dashing Steve’s hopes by looking more confused than impressed. After a beat Tony tentatively asked, “Cap, are you asking me to dinner and a movie?”
Steve gulped. “Yes?”
“You do know that’s considered to be a date, right?”
Steve nodded.
“You want to ask me on a date?”
“Yes.”
“But you don’t even like me.”
“Of course I like you,” Steve protested. “Yes, we didn’t start off on the right foot, but I’ve realized that I judged you too soon and, for that, I’m sorry. But I like you. I think you’re a good person. You’re smart and funny and actually very kind when you want to be. And attractive,” Steve added, even though Tony knew that already. “Why wouldn’t I want to date you?”
Tony smiled faintly, but there was something strained in it. “Okay, Cap, but you’re going to have to battle my seven evil exes first.” Tony pulled off his welding gloves and headed out of the labs. “I don’t think I’m making much progress here. Let’s go watch Indy.”
Steve stared after him. “Seven evil exes?” he asked himself.