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"How is there so little here? You've lived here a year!" Tony had been griping ever since they'd arrived at Steve's apartment. Honestly he'd been going since they'd gotten in the car. He knew Tony had no problem having Steve constantly at the penthouse, never going back to his apartment and having basically all of his things there, and yet he seemed to be struggling with Steve deciding to pack up more of it.
Apparently an internal crisis was enough to not need to work, because Tony had been sitting on the couch casually leafing through what was probably a confidential file while Steve went about packing up his suit. He saw no reason to leave it in an apartment he didn’t use. It was impractical and dangerous, requiring extra time to get to it plus, as he’d not thought of until recently, his apartment in Brooklyn wasn’t exactly secure. Anyone with the determination could break in and steal the suit of a national icon (but not the shield, Steve always had that handy).
“You know, if it makes you feel better I’m still leaving some stuff here, it’s just some more winter clothes and books that I’m bringing with me, besides the suit,” he offered as he returned to the living room holding a dry cleaner’s bag. Tony looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.
“You keep your suit in that? Really?” Steve rolled his eyes when questioned. Of course Tony was going to forget about his little panic long enough to tease him.
“Would you look for my suit in there?” He shot back, draping it over the back of the couch before moving in to the kitchen to start clearing out the fridge of food that was past its prime or would never be eaten. There were some cans in the pantry to be donated, but most everything was going in the trash.
He spent a few minutes clearing items into a garbage bag, then washed his hands before pouring them two glasses of cider. He brought one out to Tony and offered it to him. He was met with another incredulous stare.
“Cider?” He asked and Steve shrugged.
“It’s hard cider?” He offered and that seemed to do the trick so Tony took it. He sipped his drink and kicked his feet up onto the coffee table before posing a casual question that Steve recognised by Tony’s tight lips was anything but relaxed.
“So why aren't you bringing all your stuff over?”
Steve chose not to sit, not while he was being baited, so he took a sip of his drink, then set down the glass and moved to check his bookshelf, taking down a few items, looking at them, then putting one or two back.
“I’m not taking all of my stuff because you would panic if I were officially living with you, Tony. Like you’re trying not to panic now even though I’m specifically leaving some things behind. Plus whenever I’m back here I’ll have a book to read, clothes to wear, the basic neccessities too.” He brushed his fingers over the spine of To Kill A Mockingbird. He hadn’t had a chance to read it yet, but it had been given to him and he was told it was a classic.
“I’m not panicking,” Tony replied haughtily, so Steve turned to look at him, wondering how obvious it was that he didn’t believe that for a moment. Apparently very, as Tony sighed and looked away.
“What do I care if you’ve got stuff here? You’re always at the tower anyway.”
“Yes, I am. I might not have always, but I love the tower, it’s got all I need there, but I’ll keep this space, for when we next annoy each other, which will likely be New Year.”
Tony didn’t reply, so Steve smiled briefly, crossing the room to kiss the side of Tony’s face, lips brushing his cheek bone.
“Drink up, I want to get rid of the bottle.”
As Steve wandered back into the kitchen he glanced over his shoulder to catch the soft smile on his partner’s face as he looked down at his glass.