Work Text:
This was not how Tony’s day was supposed to go.
“No, you may not frisk me,” Tony snapped, stepping away from the SHIELD agent’s eager hands. “I’m here as a courtesy to your boss, but, if you keep trying to feel me up, I’m walking right back outside and putting on my weaponized suit of armor, which I will remain wearing for the duration of my stay here. I built it to be comfortable. Don’t test me.”
“It’s standard protocol, Mr. Stark. My job is to pat down anyone without an access badge who walks through that door, and you don’t have an access badge.”
“You can shove your access badge right up your--”
“I have an access badge, Agent Garber,” cut in a saccharine voice, and Tony whirled to face the speaker. “And oh, look at this, it says I outrank you.”
“Sharon,” Tony said, a grin slowly spreading across his face.
“Mr. Stark,” Sharon said. Her expression was carefully neutral, but her eyes were crinkling just slightly at the edges. “I apologize for Agent Garber. Door duty can be a bit stifling, you understand.”
“Right,” Tony said, shooting this Garber guy a salute and nasty look. “Well, it’s been real, gatekeeper. Don’t ever try to touch me again.”
“Agent Carter--”
“If you’ll come right this way, Mr. Stark,” Sharon said, talking over Garber without sparing him a glance, “Director Fury wants to see us.”
“Well, I’d hate to keep Nick waiting,” Tony said, offering Sharon his arm. She accepted it with a dimpled smile, and they turned down the hall.
“Sorry about that,” Sharon said, voice low. “Really. Fury should have warned him off trying that before you even got here, but you know Fury.”
“I do,” Tony said. “I was considering being very upset over the fact that you know Fury, when I specifically remember you telling me you worked for the CIA, but I guess you’re forgiven for coming to my rescue.”
“I did work for the CIA,” Sharon said as she guided them into a small, windowless conference room that Tony wasn’t convinced wasn’t actually just an interrogation room with slightly nicer seating options. “Briefly.”
“Uh-huh.” Tony dropped into a seat across for the door, and Sharon took the one on his left. “Say, why didn’t SHIELD send you to ‘handle’ me during that whole palladium thing, if they had you? Not that Agent Romanoff hasn’t been a lovely addition to my social circle, Pepper adores her, but I would have thought...”
Sharon scowled. “Apparently I was too emotionally invested to be the right choice for the job. They sent me out of the country without even telling me you were dying. Also,” she said, and punched him in the arm, “dying, Tony?”
Tony yelped. He made a show of rubbing his shoulder, even though there was no real force behind the blow, which they both knew perfectly well. “It’s not like it was my idea, Carter. I got better.”
“Call next time.”
“Not gonna be a next time.”
Sharon levelled him with a stern look. “Call next time.”
“We’ll see,” Tony said, and Sharon looked like she was about to hit him again, but then the doors opened to admit Fury, and she straightened into Good Soldier Mode. Tony slouched further into his seat and threw his legs up on the table.
“Stark, Carter,” Fury said, nodding at them. “Thank you for coming.”
“Oh, a thank you. You must really need my help,” Tony said, dropping his feet off the table in favor of leaning forward to prop his chin up on his hand and grin cheekily.
Fury rolled his one good eye. “Not as such.”
“May I ask what it is you do need, then, sir?” Sharon asked. “I’m at your disposal, of course, but I was… surprised, to be pulled off assignment.”
“Yes, that was unfortunate,” Fury sighed. “But we felt you should be here.”
“For Tony?” Sharon asked.
“No, Agent Carter. For once, Stark is here as an asset, not as a pain in my ass.”
“Oh Nick, you say the sweetest things,” Tony said, fluttering his eyelashes. “I thought you didn’t want me in your club, though.”
“That’s not what this is about,” Fury said, shaking his head.
“What, then? Sir.”
Fury took a seat across from them and frowned. “You two. You look a hell of a lot like them, you know that? In different ways, but the resemblance is--” He huffed. “This kind of thing isn’t generally difficult for me. No reason for it to be now, really, but here we are.”
Sharon made a soft sound of confusion. “I don’t understand.”
Tony understood, at least partially. He drew back, crossing his arms over his chest and saying nothing.
“Don’t look at me like that, Stark. It’s just the truth. You may be the spitting image of your old man, but the illusion breaks the second you move or open your mouth, so you can stop pouting like I just pissed in your cereal.”
“Right,” Tony drawled. “Did you drag me out here just to tell me about how unlike Howard I am? Because I gotta tell you, Nick, plenty of people were going to be doing that at the board meeting I’m skipping to be here anyway.”
“For fuck’s sake, Stark, that’s not what I--”
“Director,” Sharon cut in, voice sharp. “Maybe you could just get to the point?”
Fury scowled, but it looked like a slightly guilty scowl. Or maybe that was wishful thinking on Tony’s part. “We found something. Well, technically, Stark Industries found something, but we intercepted it. There were security concerns.”
“Hey! I have no idea what you’re talking about, but you can’t just take my things.”
“Security concerns. Serious security concerns. You should just be grateful we brought you out here.”
“No, I think I’m gonna go with indignant outrage--”
“Stark, will you shut the fuck up for one second, so I can tell you what it is?”
“Depends. How cool is it?”
“Ice cold,” Fury said, deadpan. “Literally.”
That brought Tony up short. “One of Dad’s expeditions dug something up? But the money is--you’re telling me they found something worth finding, after the better part of a century, in the last four months before they were shut down?”
“They found the only thing worth finding, as far as your father was concerned.”
Tony’s mouth fell open.
“Yeah,” Fury said. “That’s what I said.”
Sharon kicked Tony under the table. “Somebody fill me in.”
“Captain America,” Tony said. His voice was coming out a little strangled, but he felt it was justified. “He was the whole damned reason for those things. Anything else they dug up was incidental. All my dad cared about was--” Tony cut himself off and swallowed, clearing his throat. “They found Captain America.”
“Holy shit,” Sharon breathed. “Really?”
“Really,” Fury said. He sighed. “And all things considered, we aren’t going to be able to… honor Captain Rogers’s remains the way we would like. He’s been trapped in a block of ice, and his body seems to have been preserved in remarkably good condition. Perfect, even. Which means...”
Tony sat back, dazed. “The super soldier serum.”
“Bingo.”
“So why are we here?” Sharon said. She didn’t sound happy.
“I know you never knew the guy, but you two, you’re the nearest thing he has to next of kin. Aside from your aunt, that is, but--well, you know.”
“Yeah,” Sharon said. “We know.”
“It didn’t feel right, to just shuffle him away to a lab somewhere without doing something. He’s already had a funeral, of course, but he obviously couldn’t be there for that one. Fuck, I don’t know. Thought you could go stand by him for a few minutes and feel awed by the weight of the universe, or something. It’s your call.”
“Thank you,” Sharon said, quietly.
Tony stood and went for the door.
“That a no, then, Stark?” Fury asked as Tony strode past him.
“I’m getting the armor,” Tony said, pausing in the doorway to answer. “I may not be a military man, but the suits are sort of like a uniform. For me. And I’m not paying my respects to our nation’s greatest hero in jeans and a Black Sabbath t-shirt.”
If Fury was surprised, he hid it well. “Probably a good call. We’re waiting to thaw him out until we’ve moved him to the black site, so it’s pretty chilly in there.”
*
In the privacy of his own mind and safely encased in his armor, Tony could almost admit that he was slightly nervous about this. His stomach was certainly tying itself into enough knots for it.
After checking to ensure the external speakers were off, Tony asked, “JARVIS, could you please tell me to calm the fuck down?”
“Though your trepidation is understandable, there’s nothing to be worried about, sir,” JARVIS said immediately, voice soothing as ever. “There is no one in that room that you need to worry about impressing or disappointing, and you are free to leave at any time. Also, Miss Carter and I will be with you the whole time.”
“Agent Carter now, bud.”
“Noted, sir.”
Tony sighed. “Thank you, J. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“I never intend to let you find out.”
“Ready, Tony?” Sharon asked. Tony nodded, and together they stepped into the room behind Fury.
Inside were a bunch of shivering lab techs and a bigass block of ice. Tony could make out the impression of a body inside it, but he was hesitant to rush forward for a closer look.
“Recalibrating sensors for the decreased temperature, sir,” JARVIS said, and then lights were flashing up on the display, and Tony just about pissed himself.
“Holy shit.”
“Sir, it seems that--”
“Holy fucking shit, J, that cannot be right.”
“Those are the readings.”
“JARVIS, that’s not possible. You need to reboot or something.”
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just tell me to try turning myself off and back on again as if I’m some antiquated piece of hardware and you a bored IT worker who has been called to troubleshoot--and kindly abstain from the roleplay joke I’m certain you’re presently wanting to make. I understand that this must be rather shocking to you, sir, but Captain America is alive in there.”
“Well,” Tony said.
“Quite.”
“Do a full scan. Is he--is he okay?”
“He seems to be, sir. As far as I can tell, aside from his apparent suspended animation, he is in near-perfect condition.”
“Wow.”
“Yes.”
Beside Tony, Sharon had her head bowed. Her hands were folded in front of her. She definitely looked like she was feeling awed by the weight of the universe.
“JARVIS, do me a favor?” Tony said, as he swung into the chair at one of the unoccupied lab stations and adopted his best in-suit lounging position. “Crank the heat.”
“Gladly, sir.”
“And maybe check through the usual journals for anything interesting, if you’re up for doing some reading,” Tony said, tilting his head as he watched the ice. “I have a feeling we’re gonna be here a while.”
*
“Stark, how long are you planning to stay here?” Fury asked, glowering down at Tony.
“Sick of me so soon, Nick? You invited me, remember.”
“For a visitation. I expected you to stay an hour, tops.”
“Well, too bad. I’m paying my respects. I respected him a lot, you know.”
The glower intensified. “You’re up to something.”
Tony clutched his chestplate and gasped. “You wound me, Nicholas.”
“Um, sir,” said a girl in a lab coat who came running up to them, clutching a clipboard and looking white as a sheet. Tony would have felt bad for her, but, well, she was with SHIELD. “The ice is melting. Has melted. A significant amount.”
“What.”
“Something must be wrong with the thermostat. It’s displaying the same temperature as before, but when we tried measuring with a non-digital thermometer, it shows that the temperature has increased significantly.”
“Wow, that’s so weird,” Tony said.
Sharon was staring at him, disbelieving.
Fury was staring at him, murderous.
Honestly, Tony couldn’t believe it had taken them this long. His having twenty pizzas delivered to their super secret spy base had thrown them off their game for even longer than he’d expected it to. No one even seemed really to notice when people had begun shucking the outer layers of their clothing in a room that was supposedly still a functional icebox.
“I am going to kill you,” Fury spat out. “Fix this.”
“The wheels are already in motion,” Tony intoned. “There’s no stopping this now.”
“So help me, Stark--”
“Just eat your pizza and let nature take its course.”
“Fix this,” Fury snapped again, now at the poor girl with the clipboard.
She squeaked but didn’t scuttle off. “I’m so sorry, sir, but I don’t think that’s possible. Much of the volume has already been--”
“Are you telling me there’s a giant puddle of water on the floor that no one noticed?”
“There’s a drain,” she said, helplessly. “He was dripping a lot when he first came in. We didn’t want anyone to slip…”
“Honestly, you deserve this,” Tony said. “Hey, since the cat’s out of the bag anyway, can we just go ahead and blast the heat? Maybe get some people with hair dryers in on this?”
“Get out of my facility,” Fury said.
“Sure,” Tony said, amicably. “If you let me take the human popsicle with me.”
“I know you did not just have the gall to ask me that. To even think that.”
“A Stark Industries expedition found him. You already admitted that, and there’s a paper trail to prove it. You do realize that that means that that whole chunk of ice over there is SI property, right? My property?”
“In matters of national security--”
“Sing that tune all you want, it won’t stop me from siccing my lawyers all over this. And I will ensure that whatever legal action they take is not done quietly.”
Fury twitched.
“Despite our numerous differences of opinion,” Tony said, “I like to think that you at least know me well enough to understand that, if I wanted to take over the world, I’d do it with robots. Not supersoldiers. And I’d have done it already. Give me custody of the Capsicle, custody which was rightfully mine in the first place, and I’ll see to it that he is handled with the care and consideration that he deserves. And all of this can stay between us.”
“Leaving you with all the secrets locked in his DNA, and all potential profits that come along with it,” Fury taunted.
Tony shrugged. “If I can synthesize some sort of miracle cure from a sample, I would certainly be delighted to add it to the extensive list of my humanitarian efforts. I’m sure all those hospitals that the Maria Stark Foundation is keeping afloat would love to have it. But mostly, I just don’t think making him into the dragon’s teeth for your toy soldiers is the right call.”
“Don’t be a goddamned idiot, Stark,” Fury said. “You’re a dick, but you haven’t done anything unforgivable yet.”
“Sorry, could you repeat that?” Tony asked, cupping the air where his ear would be, if not for his helmet. “Because all I could hear was you realizing that you can’t win this one.” Fury somehow managed to glare even harder at that. “Don’t be a sore loser, Director. We’re both trying to do the right thing as we see it. I’m just, you know, better at it.”
“Agent Carter,” Fury said, looking at Sharon now. “Get your friend in line.”
Sharon pursed her lips, then shook her head. “Even if I wanted to, sir, I don’t see why you think I’d have any better luck than you.”
“Even if you wanted to?”
“Sorry, sir. I guess I’m too emotionally invested.”
Fury’s one good eye narrowed.
“Right,” Tony said, jumping to his feet and clapping his hands together. “That thing has wheels, right? Our ride should be here any minute, so I’ll just be taking him...”
*
“Wow,” Pepper breathed when she entered the room.
“Yeah,” Tony said, gently smoothing damp hair away from Steve Rogers’s eyes. Captain America, as it turned out, had long eyelashes. If it weren’t for the fact that they were on a living legend, Tony might even go so far as to call them pretty. “He’s something else.”
“He’s getting the bed wet.”
Tony laughed. “He’s been frozen in a block of ice for longer than I’ve been alive. I think we can cut him some slack.”
“Is an IV really all he needs? Shouldn’t there be wires, and, I don’t know, beeping?”
“JARVIS is monitoring his vitals.”
“Intently,” JARVIS said.
“And you’re just watching him sleep?” Pepper asked, in a tone of voice that Tony did not care to analyze.
He shrugged. “Someone needs to be here when he wakes up.”
“Natasha called. Several times.”
“I’m sorry. Don’t answer.”
“I know, Tony, I know. But do you think that maybe--”
There was a soft groan from the bed, and both of them froze.
“Captain Rogers?” Pepper asked after a beat. Tony mentally commended her on how even her voice was. He couldn’t even get his own voice to work.
Steve Rogers, Steven Grant Rogers, Captain America, turned over in Tony’s bed, maneuvering himself into a sitting position as he rubbed at his eyes. “Where am I? What’s going on?”
Tony cleared his throat. “That, uh, that’s kind of a long story, Cap. But you’re safe, I promise. We’re friends of yours.”
“Don’t know you,” Steve said, eyeing Tony with undisguised skepticism. “But you do look sorta like someone. He’s a friend, I s’pose.”
“Howard, yes,” Tony said, trying to force a smile that looked somewhere within twenty leagues of genuine. “He made your shield, yeah?” Tony pointed to where the shield was propped against the wall, and a fraction of the tension seemed to ease out of Captain Rogers’s shoulders at the sight of it. “Howard and I, we’re related. Family.”
Rogers grunted noncommittally. “If we’re all friends here, you got no problem with me taking out this needle in my arm, right?”
“None at all,” Tony said, holding up his hands.
Rogers seemed to relax a little after ripping out the IV with a tad more ferocity than was probably called for, but hey, who was Tony to judge? “My clothes are wet,” he said, pushing back the bedcovers.
Tony winced. He’d only removed the boots, helmet, and gloves, just pushing up the uniform’s sleeve to insert the IV. He just hadn’t felt comfortable with the thought of undressing the human embodiment of America’s greatest ideals--not while the man was unconscious, anyway. It was probably getting uncomfortable for Rogers now, though. “Yeah, uh--Pep, can you try and find him something to wear? Maybe a towel?”
“On it,” Pepper said, and then she exited the room, which left Tony alone with Captain America, the butterflies in his stomach, and the ever-growing list of his regrets.
“So,” Rogers said, eyes flickering to the shield and then back to Tony. “That long story you mentioned.”
Tony swallowed.
*
“Any special requests for breakfast?” Tony asked. “Or dinner. It is technically dinnertime, because we slept through breakfast. And also lunch. But any time is breakfast time if you want it to be, I say. Especially if you’ve just woken up.”
“I’m used to army rations,” Steve said, shrugging. “I’ll eat just about anything. Just make sure there’s a lot of it, if that’s alright.”
“Yeah, I figured you’d be hungry,” Tony said as he set to work pulling things out of the fridge. “What with the not eating for 70 years.”
Steve laughed. “I’m always hungry since the serum, actually. Guess it’s a side effect. Can last a long time without eating if I really have to, but when I do eat…”
“Bottomless pit?”
“Pretty much.”
“Oh, this is going to be fun,” Tony grinned, and went back to the fridge for more ingredients.
“I don’t need anything fancy. I don’t mean to put you out.”
“I want to say right up front that this meal is not going to be fancy,” Tony said, holding up a finger. “I will show you fancy, when we are not both ravenous, and I have time to prepare. Right now, I am going to make you as many omelets as your heart desires, and they are going to be delicious, filling, and mildly nutritious.”
“You’re piling a lot of different foods on the counter,” Steve said, with a crease in his brow. “I don’t even know what half of that is.”
“Have a little faith, Rogers,” Tony said as he diligently began cracking eggs. “I’ve done right by you so far, haven’t I?”
“Yes,” Steve said, and his eyes were so soft that Tony’s stomach turned over. “And I appreciate everything, Tony. Really.”
“Hey, I didn’t do that much,” Tony said, leaning against the counter as he whipped the eggs in a way that he hoped look casual, and not like he was going to be literally floored by Captain America’s mere presence if he didn’t have some external support right then. “You’re the real champion here. I can’t believe how well you’re taking everything.”
Steve laughed uncertainly, and his cheeks flushed a soft pink. Tony forced himself to keep his eyes fixed on the eggs. “I’m not sure spending half the night crying in a stranger’s arms counts as taking things well.”
“It most certainly does, and anyway, that’s a gross misrepresentation of what happened last night,” Tony said as he poured the egg mixture into the frying pan and reached for the pancetta. “I mean, if you did want to cry in my arms, that’d be okay. I wouldn’t, you know, mind, or think less of you, or anything like that. You’ve been through a lot. I can’t even imagine--” And then Tony glanced over his shoulder to see Steve smiling at him so sweetly that he nearly dropped the bag of cheese he was holding. “--uh, yeah. You know.”
“Thanks, Tony,” Steve said, ducking his head. “You’re a really great guy.”
Tony blinked. “Um, I think you’ll find that the general consensus on me is pretty much the opposite of that.”
“Well, that’s bullshit,” Steve said.
Tony gasped. “Captain America, did you just cuss?”
Steve rolled his eyes. “I was in the army, you know. You telling me you didn’t hear worse from your--” Steve froze, jaw working for a minute, before he finished with “--people?”
“My people?” Tony laughed. “Steve, it’s okay. I am aware that my father existed. Don’t make me regret spilling my guts to you last night. I usually never do that, but it was four in the morning, and I got caught up in the intensity of the whole thing.”
“Yeah, well,” Steve said, blushing again and looking away from Tony’s eyes.
“So you swear,” Tony said, cutting the enormous omelet neatly in two with the spatula and delivering each half to a plate. He grabbed forks and took the seat beside Steve, depositing the food in front of him. “That’s awesome. Can’t wait to see what other tricks you have up your sleeve. I can’t believe I like you even better in real life. And to think they say you should never meet your heroes.”
“‘Even better in real life’?” Steve raised his eyebrows, a forkful of omelet halfway to his mouth. “You mean you liked me before you actually met me?”
“Well, yeah,” Tony said, shrugging. “You’re Captain America.”
“Oh, so you don’t mean, like… in a real way.”
“I have no idea what that sentence means,” Tony said, patting Steve on the back. “But whatever way I liked you before is irrelevant, because now I like you in all the ways. Please eat your omelet before you hurt my feelings.”
Steve ate the omelet, four more after it, and two thirds of the entire batch of cookies Tony made an hour later. It was one of the better afternoons of Tony’s life.
*
“I knew you were and evil scientist,” Natasha Romanoff said to Tony in a waiting room some days later. “But I didn’t know you were an Evil Scientist.” Tony could hear the capital letters when she said it. Natasha was talented like that.
“Hurtful,” Tony said, automatically. “What do you mean?”
“You brought Captain America back from the dead, Dr. Frankenstein.”
“First of all, you just called Steve a monster by association, and that’s a very rude thing to say about someone so classically handsome. Second of all, he was never dead, just in suspended animation. All I did was thaw him out.”
“Please note my skepticism,” Natasha said.
“Noted.”
“Thank you. So what’s he like?”
Tony shrugged. “He’s great.”
“I would like you to note my skepticism again.”
“What, you don’t think Captain America is great?”
“Oh no,” Natasha said, raising one delicate eyebrow. “I’m certain he’s wonderful. What I’m doubting is your facade of nonchalance.”
“Facade of nonchalance.”
“Yes.”
“You really enjoy fucking with me, don’t you?”
“Yes, but that’s not the point here. Exactly how in love with Captain America are you, Stark?”
Tony spluttered. “I’m not--”
“See, you’re already lying. I know you’re at least a little bit in love with him, because you’re at least a little bit in love with everyone, and everyone is at least a little bit in love with Captain America. I’m just wondering how far it’s progressed, Tony. How deep does it go? As your friend, I need to know these things.”
“You’re not my friend, you’re an evil witch bent on my destruction.”
Natasha smiled.
“God, Nat, I don’t know,” Tony groaned. “Does it matter? You said yourself, this is just something I do.”
“He’s living with you,” Natasha said, nudging Tony’s foot with her own. “And he’s Captain America. I think it kind of matters.”
“You’re not even American.”
“Tony,” Natasha said, voice growing serious. “I really am kind of worried for you.”
Tony sighed. “Well, you don’t need to be. We’ll get him his own place soon, and I’ll… get over it. Or not, because I basically came out of the womb with a crush on him, but it’ll go back to being totally manageable and mostly ignorable. Just like all my other alleged crushes.”
“He could like you back,” Natasha said, tucking herself against Tony’s side.
He put his arm around her and rested his cheek against the top of her head. “Good joke, Nat.”
“It’s not outside the realm of possibility.”
“Uh, yes it is. He probably only even likes me as a friend because I was there when he woke up. Post-traumatic imprinting, or something. I’m sure Fury’s setting Steve straight as we speak.”
“You sure it’s not the other way around? Remember that it was Steve who threw us out of the room.”
Tony snorted. “Probably so he could ask Fury for all the gory details without me there.”
“From where I was sitting, it looked more like Captain America was about to browbeat my boss for calling you a mean name.” Natasha drew away, eyes sharp as she studied Tony’s face. “I don’t hate you, you know.”
“Well, I hope not. We were cuddling just a second ago. I’d hate to think you were using me for my body.”
“I mean it, Tony,” Nat said, touching his cheek. “I don’t hate you, Pepper doesn’t hate you, Carter doesn’t hate you, I know Rhodes and Hogan don’t hate you, and even Fury only pretends to hate you because he’s afraid that if he admits how much he cares about you, he’ll have even less of a shot at controlling you. And control is important to him.”
“What’s your point?” Tony asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Just that you’re harder to hate than you think,” Natasha said, smiling. “And Rogers seems like a man of decent taste. Maybe you’re underestimating him.”
Tony snorted. “If either of us is underestimating him, Nat, it’s you. He’s America’s platonic ideal of a human being, why would he settle for…” Tony gestured toward himself.
“I think you forget just how many people think of you much the same way you think of Steve. And anyway, your ideal with Steve really isn’t all that platonic, is it?” Nat asked, grinning as she nudged Tony with her elbow.
Tony covered his face with his hands, groaning loudly. “That was terrible, Romanoff.”
“You love it. Almost as much as you love Captain America.”
“I hate it. Almost as much as I hate you.”
Nat patted Tony’s head fondly. “Listen, I’ll work on him, okay? If he’s not in love with you already, he will be once I’m through with him.”
“No, no, and another no. For one thing, he’s almost definitely straight, like all the way straight, like latticed apple pie straight--”
“Oh, you darling idiot.”
“--and for another thing, even if he weren’t straight like Gibraltar, I’m not selfish enough to--”
Tony quickly swallowed his words when Steve crashed into the room.
He looked mad. The kind of mad that Tony had seen before, more times than he could count, but never on Steve. Tony shrank into himself, heart pounding in his ears. His eyes flickered to the door, calculations spinning through his mind. He didn’t want to know what Fury had said, he didn’t want to know what Steve now thought of him, he just wanted to be far, far away from that look.
“Breathe, Tony,” Nat said, voice soft in his ear as she curled one hand around his wrist. “He’s not mad at you, see?”
All of Tony’s instincts screamed that he didn’t want to see, but he trusted Natasha, and if it went poorly, well, he probably deserved it. So he forced himself to meet Steve’s gaze, and, sure enough, when their eyes met, the stormclouds in Steve’s started to clear.
“Tony,” Steve said.
“Hey Steve,” Tony forced out in some semblance of his normal voice. “Everything alright?”
“Yeah, yeah, I just--oh. Agent Romanoff,” he said, apparently only then noticing Natasha, who was curled protectively into Tony’s space and watching Steve with a guarded expression.
“Captain Rogers,” she said, neither moving nor releasing her hold on Tony’s wrist.
“Am I interrupting something?” Steve asked, visibly thrown off.
“No,” Tony said.
“Not in the way you’re thinking,” Nat said, slowly easing back into a more relaxed position. She pressed her thumb into Tony’s palm before withdrawing her hand from his wrist. “Tony was having a panic attack.”
“Nat, what the fuck,” Tony hissed.
Steve looked horrified. “A panic attack? What, Tony, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Tony said. “I’m totally fine. It was nothing.”
“What caused it?”
Nat was answering before Tony could even open his mouth. “He spent the whole time you were in that room convincing himself that you were going to come out of it hating him. And then you walked out here with a look on your face that, no offense, would make lesser people shit themselves.”
Tony could not believe this was happening. He wanted to die. “Shut up, Natasha.”
“Tony, oh my god,” Steve said, taking a hesitant step forward and further intensifying Tony’s inclination to crawl into a deep, dark hole at the nearest opportunity and never come back out. “I wasn’t mad at you.”
“That’s what I told him,” Natasha said, nodding decisively.
“Really, Steve, I’m fine, please just forget--”
Natasha clamped a hand over Tony’s mouth and didn’t even flinch when he licked her. “Eventually he gets used to you, and you get used to him, and everyone stops jumping out of their skin every ten minutes. Just be good to him, and it’ll work out.”
Tony was trying in earnest to find an angle that allowed him to bite Natasha’s hand and failing miserably. Nat was mostly ignoring him, and Steve was shooting him a wide-eyed look of concern that just made it all worse.
Steve cleared his throat. “Well, I certainly wasn’t planning on being bad to him, Agent Romanoff. If it’s alright by you, though, I’d really like to take him home.”
Nat’s face lit up with a wicked grin. “Would you now?”
Tony finally surrendered to the siren call of violence and forcefully shoved Natasha away. She landed on her back, laughing. “Ignore her, Steve, she’s evil,” he said, grabbing for Steve’s arm to pull him towards the elevator. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Have fun,” Nat cackled from the floor. “Don’t forget to be safe!”
“I hate you!” Tony yelled back.
“Um,” Steve said. “You two know each other pretty well, then?”
“She tricked me into hiring her as my assistant under a fake identity so that she could spy on me for Fury.”
“So… that’s…”
“She’s practically family.”
“Oh, I see,” Steve said, and, from the look of the smile on his face, Tony really believed he did.
*
Tony kept waiting for Steve to bring up moving out.
Steve kept not bringing up moving out.
It was terrible for Tony’s nerves.
“I don’t see the problem,” Jan said, wrapping a scarf around Tony’s neck and stepping back to eye him consideringly. “You want him to stay. He’s staying. How is this a bad thing? Walk me through your math, genius.”
Tony huffed, trying his best to stay still. “Because he’s obviously not staying forever, so it’s just postponing the inevitable. I want to get it over with. Rip the bandaid off.”
Jan tsked, throwing a pair of gloves at Tony as she surveyed her collection of hats. “Maybe he does want to stay forever. Have you asked?”
Tony pulling on the gloves, scoffing. “No, I have not asked Captain America to stay with me forever.”
“Have you ever noticed that you call him Captain America whenever you’re trying to convince yourself that talking to him like an actual human being is a good idea?” Jan asked, tugging a hat over Tony’s head, then immediately cringing and pulling it back off.
“I always talk to him like a human being!”
“But not about your feelings,” Jan said, sing-songing the last word a little.
“Jan, it’s not--”
“Hey, Tony, I was just--oh!”
Jan’s face lit up as she stared over Tony’s shoulder. He could feel his own face growing warm. God, he did not do blushing, especially not over something like this. This whole situation was completely unacceptable.
“Steve Rogers, I presume?” Jan asked, her excitement practically tangible. Tony wondered if it was to blame for the faint buzzing in his ears.
“Hey, Steve,” Tony said, forcing himself to look around at the door as he anxiously ran a hand through his hair.
“Tony, I worked hard on that!” Jan said, grabbing Tony’s hand away to fuss at his hair.
Steve laughed from the door. “I like it messy, though.”
That pretty much struck Tony speechless (his face must be beet-red, god), but Jan stopped messing with his hair.
“Oh, you do?” she asked, using the same voice she’d always used when they were kids and trying to convince their parents that they hadn’t been trying to sneak out of whatever charity gala they’d been press-ganged into attending that month. She put her hands on Tony’s shoulders, making him turn to face Steve properly. “What do you think of the rest?”
Steve seemed to shrink a little in the doorframe. “Well, he’s--he’s very handsome.”
“Isn’t he, though?” Jan asked, smiling. “I’m always trying to get him to model for me, but he’ll only help me out like this in private.”
“You have legions of actual models falling all over themselves to model your new line, Jan. You don’t need me.”
“But I designed half the line with you in mind!”
Tony rolled his eyes. “That’s just because I’m the only one who you can call to throw fabrics at when ‘inspiration strikes’ at 4am.”
“You designed this?” Steve asked. “It’s beautiful.”
“Do you like fashion?” Jan asked, and oh, Tony did not like where this was going.
“I like art,” Steve said, shrugging. “That includes fashion, doesn’t it? Even though it’s not exactly my area of expertise.”
“What sort of art you do, then?” Jan asked eagerly.
Steve smiled shyly. “Oh, you know. Drawing. Painting. That sorta thing.”
“Have you ever drawn Tony?” Jan asked, faux-innocently, and Tony choked on air. Jan watched him splutter, amused. “I’ve always found him so inspiring, you know? When we were kids, he was, like, my muse.”
“I let you stick me with needles a few times; let’s not make it more than it was.” Tony knew his voice was coming out a little strangled, but he could hardly be blamed.
“No, she’s right,” Steve said, shaking his head. “I haven’t really drawn since--since I got back, but you do really speak to my inner-artist. I can’t say the thought of sketching you has never crossed my mind.”
“Oh, darling, you have to start drawing again,” Jan said, hand fluttering to her mouth. “People like us, we need our art. I’m sure Tony would model for you, as long as you don’t try to get him on a runway.”
Tony glared at Jan, and she winked at him. He hated his friends.
“Oh, I couldn’t,” Steve said. “Tony has better things to do than sit around while I draw him, and I’m probably so out of practice…”
“He doesn’t want to do it, Jan,” Tony said, trying to up the intensity on his glare without actually having any idea how to do so. Think spiteful thoughts. That time she set you up on a blind date with an accountant. That time when you were twelve and she called you a poopyhead. That time she went on in an interview for like five minutes about what a supportive friend you are, even though you specifically asked her not to mention you.
Fuck, it was really hard to build spite against Jan. He could feel his gaze softening.
She smiled at him beatifically. “No, he’s worried you don’t want to do it. Tell Steve you’re happy to model for him, Tony.”
“Get out of my beeswax, Wasp.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’m leaving. Just keep the coat, it only works that well on you.” She gathered the rest of her things up into her arms and went for the door, but she stopped to give Steve a thoughtful once over.
“No, Jan,” Tony said, running a hand over his face.
“If I adjusted the collar, maybe did it in navy--”
“Janet.”
“Oh, come on, wouldn’t he like a coat?” she asked, pouting. “I’m sure he gets cold.”
“Um,” Steve said.
Tony leapt forward to chase Jan from the doorway, elbowing her out of the room. She laughed and started mouthing something to Steve that Tony couldn’t make out, so he yanked Steve in by the arm and slammed the door shut.
“That was kind of rude,” Steve said, in an uncertain voice that seemed to indicate that he wasn’t sure whether this was a problem or not.
“She’s known me to be much ruder. What did you need, Steve? Before the illustrious Miss van Dyne went all artistic extremism on you.”
“Ah,” Steve said, and was it Tony’s imagination, or did he look nervous? Probably Tony’s imagination. “I wanted to ask you something.”
“Shoot.”
Steve gave Tony a very intense look, which lasted for about a second before he looked away. “When are you going to kick me out?”
“What?”
“I didn’t mean for it to sound like that,” Steve said, wincing. “I’m so, so grateful that you’ve let me stay as long as you have. I know you had no obligation to take me in, to do any of the things you’ve done for me, but it’s just that--I know it’s coming, but not knowing when is sort of… killing me.”
Tony struggled to keep the shock off his face. “Steve, you can stay here literally as long as you’d like. You can stay here forever, if you want.” I want you to stay here forever, he didn’t say.
“I couldn’t possibly--”
“You can,” Tony said, firmly. “You should, if that’s what you’d like.”
Steve started shaking his head, so Tony put a hand--still gloved, whoops--on Steve’s arm to forestall whatever he was about to say.
“I would like--I like having you here.”
“You’ll get sick of me sooner or later,” Steve said, smiling crookedly.
“I won’t. I couldn’t.” God, this was dangerous. This was a feelings conversation. Tony needed to wrap this up. Clearing his throat, he said, “You can leave whenever you want, of course. I can get you set up with your own place, just say the word. But I like--I like you.”
Fuck, that was not was Tony had meant to say. Steve looked stunned, blue eye wide and lips parted in surprise.
Tony laughed nervously. “I mean, you’re a good fr--”
Steve cut him off with a kiss that Tony would defy even the most heterosexual of men not to melt into. Admittedly, the most heterosexual of men would probably not moan into Steve’s mouth a little the way Tony did, but he figured a one or two on the kinsey scale would still fall around here. It had nothing to do with a secret gay crush, Tony had no gay thoughts about Steve, he only harbored the most platonic and decent of feelings for muscular, six foot tall national icons--ah, fuck it.
“I like you so much,” Tony whined against Steve’s lips. “Please stay with me forever.”
Steve laughed and kissed him harder.