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Sometimes when they fought they tired themselves out. They could both be so stubborn when they differed in opinions that they would be at it for hours, shouting at each other or just bickering, that they would almost seem to forget they were fighting. Steve and Tony had the remarkable ability to go about their daily routine, and seem visually to not be fighting at all, while still arguing constantly.
They had been going back and forth on one topic for three whole hours, in an argument that had started under their Christmas tree but had migrated from there to the kitchen, to their bedroom, then finally to the living room, where they were tucked up on the couch watching the news muted.
They’d already eaten, and Steve had wound up lying with his head on Tony’s lap, eyes flitting between the screen and up at Tony’s face as he tried to take in the latest conflicts while dealing with his own on the couch.
“I swear, you’re worse than I am. I have the means, why can’t I get you something that someone else couldn’t afford? I’ve already told you a thousand times it’s not going to be too flashy or huge. Just let me?” Tony batted his eyelashes at Steve as he spoke. He’d tried that tactic a few times already in that one argument and while it always made Steve want to laugh or smile at him, he’d held it in.
“Tony, no,” he sighed, ignoring the way Tony was also rubbing his chest, breaking Steve down one piece at a time.
“You can get me something nice for less, I’m sure. I mean, couldn’t you make something out of scrap? You’re so talented it wouldn’t take too much out of your time and I’m sure I’d love it.” Steve offered a small smile, closing his hand over Tony’s on his chest to still his movements.
“I can see what you’re doing, Rogers. Flattery. You think I was born yesterday?” Tony was smiling though, so it was obviously working. Steve squeezed his hand and shrugged.
“Well if you won’t go for the spending limit maybe we should just make the gifts. I mean, you’re always trying to buy me outrageous things all year anyway, why don’t you just for once put your wallet away and try things the old, boring Rogers way?”
Steve had really thought he’d been getting through, and he didn’t mind the idea of making their gifts as he knew Tony liked his drawings. He’d seen the ones he’d tucked behind one of his computer monitors, drawings of the Iron Man suit in flight, of their living space, not very emotional things and yet sentimental all the same.
It had seemed he’d made progress, but then Tony loosened his grip on Steve’s hand and had started to frown.
“What?” Steve asked, wondering what nerve he could have possibly hit.
“You think that?” Tony asked, looking down with that frown that always gave Steve a desperate tug in his chest to drop everything and make it better. This wasn’t annoyed business mogul, it was closer to kicked puppy.
“Think what?” He asked, confused and he tried to sit up but Tony’s hand pressed down on his chest. It would have been easy to disregard, but he didn’t want to make whatever he’d done worse.
“You’re not boring, Steve. You don’t believe that, do you?” Tony looked so serious, but any nerves Steve had been building up washed away and he smiled, moving to sit up now so he could kiss Tony. Sometimes he could be so adorable, but he couldn’t tell him that.
“Oh, no. I mean, I guess to a lot of people I am, in being old fashioned. I’m not a tech… whiz, like you. And I guess I am set in my ways with some things, but you never make me feel boring, Tony.”
He pulled Tony in closer, expecting it all to be sorted but his sharp eyes had caught the flash of a smirk on Tony’s face as he’d leant into him.
“Tony!” He laughed, looking down to be met with wide, innocent eyes.
“You’re crafty, Stark. Trying to change the subject. I still want you to make something and not spend hundreds or thousands on me. Understand?”
He watched with amusement as that sweet expression on his partner’s face morphed into a sheepish grin and he pressed a little closer into his side.
“Fine, fine,” Tony sighed, waving a hand to make it the end of it. “Make the presents. Got it, boss. So does it count if for Christmas I make you scre-“
“Tony!”
From the outside, it wouldn’t have looked like they’d been fighting at all.