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Tony liked movies. Steve liked movies. In fact, Tony was the one who introduced Steve to 21st century movies and he’d been tremendously proud of himself for picking out things Steve enjoyed (once Steve had recovered from how loud and how fast and how bright and how colorful they all were). So this would be great, right?
***
“Hey, Tony,” Steve said, strolling into the genius’ workshop. Tony just grunted, soldering something and not willing to look up. Steve smiled and wandered over to take a seat in *his* chair. (He was a frequent visitor to the workshop and had his own chair. It was a Big Deal to have a chair in Tony’s space. He also got to leave his pencils and sketchpads on the side table. That was a Big Deal too.) Steve smiled. It was good to watch Tony work.
Once Tony had attached a sheet of metal to another piece of what looked like metal tubing, he looked up.
“Here to sketch Metal Still Life VII, Cap?”
“Nope,” Steve said, still smiling. “I think I’m done with still lives for a while.” He watched Tony wipe sweat from his brow with his forearm. Maybe that gesture shouldn’t be hot, but it was anyway. (Tony Stark broke all the rules.) “Actually, I was wondering if you could help me with something later.” Tony cocked his head inquisitively and Steve continued, “I really wanted to watch 'Casablanca' again, but I think your home theater is allergic to me.”
“Nah! No way. My tech is excellent,” Tony said with a grin. “If it were allergic to anyone it’d be Justin Hammer, not Captain America. We have standards here, you know.”
Steve smiled. “Right. Well, I was just wondering if you could help me set up the movie later and, if you’re not too busy, if maybeyou’dliketowatchitwithme.” (Oh god! He did that things were his words run together ‘cause he’s nervous. Idiot!)
“Sure thing, buddy. What time?”
“Er, maybe eight?”
“Great. And if I’m more than 10 minutes late, come drag me out of the shop. I officially give you permission, here in the sight of JARVIS.”
***
Tony was right on time and Steve didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. (Steve quite liked the idea of throwing Tony over his shoulder and carrying him away…) The intervening hours had given Steve lots of time to second guess his choice. Why had he picked 'Casablanca?' Tony would probably like 'Maltese Falcon' better. Or he should have picked something more romantic. But it was too late now—- Tony was dealing with the DVD player that hated Steve and having JARVIS adjust the something-or-others.
One of many good things about Tony’s home theater was that, not only were there no other people to ogle them and take pictures, but instead of having theater seats the room had couches. Steve took a seat on the center couch and patted next to him for Tony to have a seat. (It was the smallest couch in the theater, but it was in the middle, so that didn’t look weird, right?)
'Casablanca' really was a great film, but Steve had watched it before and Tony was next to him on the couch, just a few inches of space between them. If he shifted slowly, he could probably wriggle closer and press his thigh up against Tony’s. But that would be pretty obvious. What if Tony scooted away? Or said “Geeze, Cap, stop hogging the whole couch, why don’t ya?” And thighs were kind of intimate, even now, weren’t they? And touching Tony’s thigh would make him think of everything else he wanted to touch. (Oh god! He wanted to pin Tony down and press his whole body against him, kiss him long and hard, hip-to-hip, rub their--)
Tony was looking at him and Steve hoped he couldn’t see him blushing in the flickering light of the movie. Nope. Thighs would be too much. Something else then. Something more subtle…. Yes!
Steve rolled his shoulders a bit then yawned, covering his mouth with his left hand. Then he gave a bit of a stretch, reaching around to rest his arm on the back of the couch, half-draped around Tony’s shoulder. (But not obviously, or anything…) Steve held his breath. Tony huffed out a little noise that sounded like a snort or something. Steve knew he should stay focused on the movie (Sam sang, “A kiss is still a kiss . . . a sigh’s just a sigh . . .”) but Steve couldn’t help glancing over at Tony. Tony was looking over at him, giving him this sidelong look Steve didn't recognize.
Oh shit! He’d screwed this up. What if it made Tony uncomfortable and he—
Tony shifted closer on the couch, thigh against Steve’s thigh, side-to-side, his head almost but not quite resting on Steve’s shoulder. Tony let out a content-sounding little sigh and Steve let his arm drop all the way to Tony’s shoulder. (Steve stopped holding his breath.)
Ha! Steve wasn’t so terrible at this after all! He didn’t actually want to move (it would disturb Tony), but he felt this funny urge to puff his chest out, throw his shoulders back a bit, and hold his head high. (Hey, he was pretty damn pleased with himself. He came up with a subtle Step 1 seduction move that worked on *Tony Stark.* He should be pleased with himself.)
He was proud of that move. Maybe the 21st century hadn’t seen it all quite yet.
The End.