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Tony nudges Steve into the closet.
“What—” Steve protests but goes anyway, all the way to the back where boxes of detergent are stacked against the wall.
Tony follows through, squeezes in and closes the door behind himself. “They were looking for us,” he whispers, tapping his glasses to adjust to the much darker space quickly.
It’s a tight fit, he realizes as he tries to take a step back, but there is no space, none whatsoever, so he just stands there and tries to breathe in hoping to keep his belly from bumping into Steve’s side.
“How could you tell?” Steve asks, quietly, shifting on his feet, clearly trying—and failing—to put some space between them.
“FRIDAY,” he whispers back, “she analyzes every movement and detects the anomalies.”
“Wow, Dr. Potts,” Steve says, narrowing his eyes. “Don’t think she knew how to do that last time you and I went on a mission together.”
Warmth curls in Tony’s gut. Steve has taken Tony’s breath away with a name and one observant sentence, and just like that Tony’s thrown back through time, like it’s those old days, when they were tiptoeing around each other all the time, when every interaction was loaded, and flirty, and oh, so full of promise.
“Well, Captain Stevens,” Tony says, letting his breath out. “A lot has changed since you and I were on a mission together.”
“Yeah?” Steve comes closer somehow, even if there was barely an inch between them to begin with. He’s blushing, Tony can see clearly with how FRIDAY’s illuminating the space for him artificially, the way his cheeks are more pink that they were a moment ago, how the color is running down the skin visible between the lapels of his army jacket. “Like what?”
Tony’s heart is hammering in his chest. Steve’s body is pressed against him now and Tony can hear the low sound of his breathing; he swears that he can feel the warmth radiating off his body.
He takes one moment, and thinks about it.
They’re in a whole different timeline, with different names, different jobs, and maybe, just maybe Dr. Potts and Captain Stevens have been dancing around each other all their lives too, maybe Dr. Potts has watched Captain Stevens, young, and pretty, and blushing, and has dreamed about pushing him inside this very closet, too many times. Maybe Captain Stevens of this universe is into Dr. Potts, a lot, but he doesn’t dare to say it out loud, and Dr. Potts doesn’t doubt it, he knows everything that is going on inside the Captain’s head right this second.
“I don't think we’ve ever done this on a mission,” he whispers against Steve’s neck before tilting his head and pressing his lips to Steve’s.
He can feel the way Steve’s body goes tense for what must be the longest moment in the world, and Tony wonders if there is enough space to pull back even a little, before Steve’s hand cups his jaw, before Steve pulls him in, holding on as he parts his lips and lets Tony in, humming into Tony’s mouth, grabbing at Tony’s coat with his free hand. Tony finds the back of Steve's neck, trying to pull them together even more, while he tastes the inside of Steve’s mouth, and it’s fire, electricity, hot and liquid, running through his veins, pooling low in his gut.
Dr. Potts and Captain Stevens deserve this, holding each other, panting into the kiss, forgetting where they are entirely, and so do Steve and Tony; just like their 1970’s counterparts, Tony thinks that they have waited long enough.