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Steve Rogers is laying on the living room couch of Avengers mansion, watching a show about... cupcake baking, he thinks, when Tony stark strolls in, falls on top of him, rolls until he's in laying pressed with his back to Steve's chest, and settles in.
It's almost mid-December, and it's a bit cold in the tower, what with the winter chill. Tony is very warm, so Steve's not entirely displeased with the situation, but certainly confused. Natasha had assured him that Tony was also interested in him, but was "too thick to think you are back".
Which is odd, since he must realize what he's doing, because it's very forward.
Then again, Tony Stark is nothing if not forward with his advances. Steve's watched him pick people up before.
"Tony, what are you doing?" He asks, brow furrowed even as he pushes further back against the cushions to give Tony more room.
"Don't worry, Steve. Spooning isn't gay if you're the big spoon. See? I'm letting you be the big spoon." Tony replies, waving a hand uncaringly.
"What are you even talk-" Steve starts, more confused that before, and perhaps a little bit offended, but Tony shushes him and turns the volume up.
Steve sighs, but he manages to sneak his arm around Tony's waist and elevate his head on a pillow so he can see over Tony's, and Tony doesn't complain or move away, so he counts it as a win.
---
Two days later, Steve decides to goes down to the communal kitchen for some water at 2 AM, because he can't sleep, and water is always nice.
He finds Tony already there, making himself more coffee. They haven't talked about the spooning-on-the-couch incident. Tony seems to want to ignore it, and Steve doesn't want to jeopardize the possibility of it happening again, so it's a mutual decision.
"Hi, Tony," Steve says, and Tony looks over at him. His hair's sticking up an odd angles, smeared with oil and who knows what else, but his eyes are soft even as he smirks in Steve's direction.
"Hey, Steve. What are you doing, burnin' the midnight oil? Don't you over-90's have a set bedtime of like, 9 PM?"
Steve rolls his eyes. "No. I couldn't sleep, thought I'd get some water and maybe head to the gym to tire myself out a bit."
Tony eyes his speculatively, but turns back to the coffee maker without another word. Shrugging to himself, Steve grabs a glass from the cupboard and fills it ice from the freeezer and tap water.
Steve feels Tony's eyes on him before he speaks. "You know I have like, the best possible fresh spring water money can buy in the fridge, right? Even if the tower has an excellent filtration system, why would you drink from the tap?"
Steve rolls his eyes, leaning back against the counter. "Not everything has to be state-of-the-art, Tony. I like ice in my water. You can't fit ice into a water bottle."
"But you can pour the water from the bottle , into a glass with ice," Tony points out, smiling a little bit.
Steve raises his eyebrows, severely unimpressed. "That would be a waste, Tony. Bottled water is for when you need to grab a water for, say, a run. Not just to drink around the house."
"Tower," Tony automatically corrects, pouring his coffee into a gigantic mug. The entire pot fits into the mug. It's ridiculous and far too much coffee in one sititng, in Steve's opinion.
Tony turns back to Steve, who has moved himself into a stool in front of the kitchen island, and stands across the counter.
"So, can't sleep, huh?" Tony asks, and Steve makes an indeterminate noise while sipping his water. "I know how that goes. Wanna watch a movie?"
"Didn't you just come from the lab?" Steve asks, biting his lip. "I don't want you to stop working just for me."
"No big deal," Tony says, grinning. "JARVIS, save whatever's going on down there and shut it down. I'll be back tomorrow."
"As you wish, sir," is JARVIS' reply, and Tonys grin gets wider.
"Okay, so, Jurassic Park?" Tony asks, and Steve shrugs.
"Whatever you want to watch is fine, Tony."
"Okay, then. Jurassic Park it is. Clint hasn't showed you it yet, right? I want to be the one to show you these dinosaurs. They're all animatronic, it's kind of awesome for coming out in '93."
Steve smiles. He nods his assent and they walk to the couch of the adjoined living room, settling in. It's different, though, tonight. Tony chooses to sit directly next to Steve, with his arm around his shoulders and feet on the coffee table.
Steve opens his mouth to ask what animatronic means, but Tony seems to anticipate something else, and talks over him.
"It's not gay if nobody can see, Steve."
"Tony, that wasn't what I was goin-", he starts, but is cut off, once again.
"Shh, movie's starting."
So Steve settles in, letting himself relax into Tony's side, and watches.
---
It's a week later when Steve gets informed that Tony has a gala he has to attend tonight the evening before Christmas eve, and he tells Steve he wants him to be his plus one. He doesn't say date, but that's the way Steve takes it.
He asks Tony if he should wear his best dress, and Tony mouth opens kind of funny for a minute before he answers "hell yes", so Steve goes with it.
Six hours later, when Steve is standing next to Tony and watching him entertain socialites, the band starts, and a lot of people migrate to the fancy dance floor.
"Wanna dance?" Tony asks, mischef in his eyes and grin in place.
Steve blushes, but he can see the challenge in Tony's grin, and he's never been one to back down from a challenge.
"Sure," Steve answers, setting down the drink he'd been holding 'for appearance sake'. Tony looks mildly impressed, and gulps the last of his scotch down before offering his arm for Steve to take.
"I'm not very good at this," Steve warns, and Tony just smiles wide.
"Don't worry, Cap. I've got my steel-toe dress shoes on."
"They make those?" Steve asks, but he's more concerned with getting his arm around Tony's waist and grabbing the opposite hand.
"Well, I reinforced a pair," Tony says, putting a hand on his shoulder and twining the fingers of his hand through Steve's. A song starts, one that Steve feels is familiar from the opening chords, but he needs the words to really be sure.
Steve blushes when the lyrics start, pleased, and continues to lead Tony around the dance floor. Tony grins at his red cheeks.
"I like this song. It was on the sixties playlist," Steve states, and Tony laughs softly.
"I do, too," he says, before he starts singing it.
"-for the only one I see. V is very, very extraordinary, E is even more than anyone that you adore, and love - is all that I can give to you," he croons along, laughing at Steve's further reddening cheeks.
"Tony-" Steve starts, but Tony laughs and talks over him.
"Don't worry, Steve. It's not gay if you're in uniform."
Steve sighs and shakes his head with a small smile.
---
The next night, it's just about midnight, and since half of the Avengers are impatient adults with attitudes like children, the team decides they're going to open presents at midnight instead of after sleeping.
"I won't be able to sleep!" Is Clint's argument, because he says he's too wired to sleep without sneaking out in the middle of the night and seeing what his presents are. Steve wonders why he hasn't done it already, since they've had the presents under the tree for two weeks, now, but apparently even Clint can be patient to wait for Christmas.
"We do not celebrate this Midgardian holiday on Asgard! I am excited to share my gifts with you, and recieve your gifts in return. I suspect it will be glorious," is Thor's... not really excuse, but Steve gets it, anyway.
"It's still Christmas, just, the beginning of it" is Tony's argument, and Steve thinks he might just be excited because it's one of his few Christmases with a somewhat-family, so he doesn't begrude him that.
They've all been hanging around the main living room of the tower, sipping drinks and chatting. Pepper is there, with Happy hanging off her arm, and Rhodey, too, who got leave just to celebrate with the Tony and the Avengers. The three of them are chatting around the bar, with Natasha.
Coulson, Hill, and Fury are all there, much to everyone's surprise. They're standing next to the first grouping, and it looks like they're having seperate discussions that sometimes bleed into a big group conversation.
Clint and Thor are by the huge tree, shaking presents and generally acting like five-year olds, under the guise of sorting them into piles for each person. It's endearing, if a little bit childish, since it'll be midnight in about ten minutes.
Bruce got Betty to join them for the occasion, and Steve was very happy to finally meet her. he thinks that she's probably very good for him. They're in the kitchen, getting Bruce something non-alcoholic, and probably having their own private chat. They don't get to see each other nearly enough.
Thor keeps huffing about how he wishes Loki could attend, and everyone just seems to pat him on the back and say they're sorry, even if none of them really are.
Steve, meanwhile, is in front of a seperate drink bar that's been set up for occasion, watching Tony play bartender.
"I know you can't get drunk, Steve, this is just for fun. You've been holding that same glass all night. If you can't get drunk, at least go for taste!" Tony is saying, and Steve is laughing at his antics.
"Tony, really, I'm fine," Steve insists, but Tony glares at him and looks around at the bottles.
"How about a nice Red Mouth? Rum and cherry? Or I could give you a Goodnight Kiss, champagne and bitters."
Steve blushes lightly. "No, Tony, I'm fine. I don't even like champagne."
"Okay then. What about a nice Captain's Paradise? Just orange juice and pineapple rum," Tony says, a sly grin taking over his mouth, now.
"No!" Steve insists, "I am going to leave!"
"Steeeve! We need to find you a good drink for opening presents. Everyone else has one!" Tony insists, and Steve sighs, sitting down at the barstool.
"Okay. You don't strike me as a Bar Slut kind of guy, I don't think you like energy drinks. Maybe some Bailey's and kahlua with syrup, a Bartender's Wet Dream?" And yes, Tony is definitely grinning, now.
"You're making these up," Steve insists, and Tony shakes his head.
"I am not. I'm offended. These are all legitimate drinks with perfectly acceptable and legitimate names," he insists, and Steve rolls his eyes.
"I could give you a Slippery Nipple. Bailey's and butterscotch schnapps, so it might taste good. But I'm thinking you'd rather have a nice Screaming Orgasm, which has Bailey's and Kahlua with vodka," Tony says, holding back laughter at the red staining Steve's cheeks, and Steve sighs and drops his head to the countertop with a thud.
"Just make a drink Tony, please, it's three minute to midnight," Steve says, voice muffled against the marble. He can hear Tony snickering as he pulls out bottles and mixes some sort of concoction that Steve won't drink more than a sip of.
Steve finally lifts his head when he hears the thunk of a glass right next to his head. He stares at is suspiciously, and then turns his stare on Tony.
"What is it called, and what on earth is in it?" Steve asks, because Tony is biting his lip to keep from laughing.
"It's got red wine, sugar, splash of orange and lemon, and cinnamon. It'll be delicious," Tony says and Steve glares at him.
"Great, but what is it called?"
"K'mana Wanna Lei'ya," Tony says, then starts cracking up, and Steve drops his head back to the counter top.
Then immediately lifts it back up, again, when he hears the distinctive sound of an arrow whizzing through the air and embedding its self in the wall. Or in this case, ceiling.
"MISTLETOE!" Clint calls, and half the party attendees start laughing. Steve glances up and sees that there is indeed mistletoe pinned to the ceiling directly above their heads. He suspects that it was Natasha and Pepper's idea.
Tony grins, stepping closer and leaning over the bar into Steve's space. With a quick glare over his shoulder at the archer, Steve turns back around and grab Tony's head to plant a firm kiss on the man's lips. It lasts strictly longer than necessary, and when he pulls back Tony looks a little big dazed from the sweep of tongue Steve went for.
Most of the attendees cheer.
"Uh, wow. Well, it's not gay if it's Christmas, you know," Tony says, and Steve allows himself a satisfied smile.
"Presents time," he says, before turning around in the stool and grinning to himself.
---
Four nights later, Steve wakes up to someone shuffling into his room and towards his bed. A gentle blue glow and the scent of spicy cologne alert him to who it is.
"Hi, Tony," Steve says, and Tony freezes slightly.
"Hi, Steve," he replies, and stands back.
"What are you doing? Anyone in trouble?" Steve asks around a yawn, and he's not sure why they're talking so quietly, but it fits the mood.
"Uh, no. I was just, uh... I mean, it's not gay if you're asleep," Tony says scratching at the back of his head. He's wearing a clean wife beater and thin pajama pants.
"Tony-" Steve starts, but Tony talks over him.
"I was just, you know, tired, and I thought, hey! I should go sleep in Steve's bed with him! People do that, right? And then I was here before I really thought about it and now I'm feeling awkward because I didn't mean to wake you up. I mean logically what I was thinking is probably creepy, but-"
"Tony," Steve interrupts. "Just get in the bed."
Tony hesitates for a minute, crossing and uncrossing his arms, and touching his beard.
"Fine, but don't freak out on me in the morning or something. This was your idea."
"Technically it was yours and I'm agreeing to it, but I'll be happy to take the blame," Steve says cheerily, flipping back the covers as Tony crawls in next to him. When Tony is finally settled, probably as far away as he can manage, Steve reaches out and wraps his arm around Tony's waist, pulling him closer until they're spooning in a not-unfamiliar position.
Tony makes a pouting noise, but wriggles (supposedly until he's comfortable) and settles down. Steve breathes out happily against his shoulder, settling himself back down, and he falls back asleep in minutes.
---
The next morning, Steve drifts slowly into wakefulness, fully aware that the light snoring he's hearing from the body he's curled around is Tony, and smiling because of it. He takes his time unwinding himself, yawning and waiting for Tony to wake up as he opens his eyes to stare at Tony's lax face.
It doesn't take long, just about five minutes. Maybe Tony can sense when people are staring at him. It's maybe a little weird, but Tony was the one who walked into the room to share his bed last night, so he knows he's not the weirdest one here.
"You're staring at me," Tony says without opening his eyes, and Steve mhm's gently. He reaches out, making sure his arm drags on the sheet so Tony can hear it and won't pull back, and runs his hand down Tony's cheek and to his lips, pressing him thumb there.
Tony, as expected, kisses thumb before he reaches out to lick it, nipping the tip sharply. Steve groans lightly, moving his whole body forward to pull his thumb down and angle Tony's head up for a kiss.
They kiss lazily for a minute, pecking over and over again, ignoring any morning breath. When Tony finally pulls away to yawn, he lets it out in a happy sigh.
His eyes are still closed.
"Why are your eyes still-"
"It's not gay if your eyes are closed," Tony assures him gently, and Steve scoffs and pulls futher back, leaning up on his elbows.
"Tony, are you trying to say that for my benefit or yours?" Steve asks, his brows and eyes drawn down into a disapproving glare.
Tony finally opens his eyes, looking startled. "Yours, of course!" he replies, and Steve scoffs again.
"No, seriously. I'm trying to make sure you're cool with it. I know the thirties and forties weren't the best era for gay rights or anything, so it's understandable if you have any ingrained hang-up's or anything. Seriously, it's cool."
"Tony, I don't have any hang-up's about it. I've known I also liked men since I was 14 years old. Of course back then I had to hide it and I might've thought I was sick for it, but one of the great things about waking up seventy years in the future is that there's a term for it, and it's not considered a disease anymore."
Tony looks startled. "All this time I've been trying to reassure you so I could ease you into the idea and you're telling me you've been cool with it all along?!"
Steve rolls his eyes, huffing. "Yes, Tony. I've been 'cool with it' all along. Well, it took about three months after waking to wrap my head around the idea, but that was a while ago, more than a year."
"Wow. Uh, well, that's an interesting development. We should explore that. Like, right now," Tony says.
Steve rolls his eyes, but leans in to kiss Tony again. Tony makes happy noises against his mouth, and Steve echoes them. He likes the scratch of Tony's beard, and the scent of Tony's cologne that's lingering on him and Steve's sheets. It's nice that he reciprocates. Natasha's always right.
When the kiss gets deeper, Steve shifts himself further on top of Tony, gripping the back of his head and under his chin to keep Tony at the angle he prefers. Tony goes along with it, trying to rub himself up onto Steve's body, but Steve stays out of reach. They haven't gotten far enough for that yet.
"It's not gay if it's your first time," Tony gasps out when they break for air. When Steve looks, he's smiling and holding back laughter, so Steve laughs down at him.
"Tony, this wouldn't be my first time," Steve states. Tony's eyes fly open wide, looking shocked.
"What!?" Tony asks. Steve grins down at him, feeling triumphant for having shocked him.
"No, wait, where are you going," Tony complains when Steve starts to disentangle himself. "You've got a story to share! And we have things to get to!"
"No I don't," Steve replies, grinning and hauling himself out of the bed. "And no, we don't. At least, not right now. Right now I want waffles. And then I want to go on a proper date tonight."
"The Gala was totally a proper date, okay, so you should come back here and-"
"The Gala doesn't count because you didn't ask me out believing I thought of it as a date, even if I did," Steve says, reaching down to pull slippers onto his feet. "Dinner, tonight. Seven PM. Don't be late! And get up, because I'm making breakfast." Steve calls to the genius as he walks out of the room.
He can hear Tony's complaints and name-cursing all the way down the hall, but a minute later, Tony's jogging down the hallway to Steve and joining him in the elevator.
"Unfair," Tony pouts, and Steve smiles at him, leaning forward for another kiss, just a brief press of lips. He pulls away and grab Tony's hand, interlacing their fingers. His room is the second level below the communal area, so it takes less than a minute to move up two floors and into the kitchen. Natasha and Thor are already there. Bruce is, too, drinking tea at the giant table in the nook of the kitchen, so Steve hadn't seen him right away.
Natasha raises an eyebrow at their clasped hands, and a smirk curls her lips. "I told you I was right," she says, and Steve just grins, pulling Tony's hand up to press a kiss to it before he shoo's him to the coffee machine. Thor's grin is the only one brighter than Steve's, and even Bruce sends them a small smile.
"You're humming that song," Tony accuses ten minutes later, as Steve's frying a gigantic batch of waffles in the waffle maker.
"Is that that L.O.V.E. song?" Clint asks, as he wanders into the kitchen with wet hair and not wearing a t-shirt.
"Yes I am, and yes it is," Steve replies.
Clint eyes between then for a minute, probably noticing things like Steve's rumpled hair and Tony's kiss-bruised lips. He sighs.
"You two are going to be nauseatingly adorable and I'm not sure I'm ready for it, even if it is about damn time," he declares. Natasha reaches over to give him a high-five, probably in agreement.
"Get over it quick, Barton," Tony says, grinning, and Steve grins back. He's hopeful with this. It's something he's wanted, and something Tony apparently wants. Steve's sure they can find a way to make it work.
That fluttery, warm feeling in his chest might just be love, but he's sure Tony's not ready for that yet, so he just goes back to humming that song, and making his waffles, and figures they can work out logistics as they go.