Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tony was a possessive man. And not in a dark, creepy way. More of an overprotective, strategic way. If someone or something was of his own, he made sure it was known. And would go out of his way to make sure they couldn’t be touched because of him.

Hell, he was Tony Stark. It happened all the time. There was always someone trying to use things against him. Trying to use people against him. He remembered once when someone threatened Rhodey over some weapon plans he’d drawn up.

Safe to say it was only because of Pepper that the matter was handled in a legal sense.

His life changed after the Avengers. He had more to look after. More to look after him, evidently. 

Steve Rogers, Captain America if you will, was a very interesting case. There was something about his broad shoulders, stiff posture, and noble attitude that fucking drew Tony in.

He couldn’t stand the man. He couldn’t get a read on him. He couldn’t figure out how to get him to shut up and get in his bed. 

It was borderline embarrassing. Rhodey was the only one who outright knew about Tony’s feelings. And even though he would never tell her, he had an understanding that Pepper recognized it too.

He thought maybe his strange protective-possessive streak was why he and Steve argued so often. Well that was Tony’s reason for the arguments. 

“You can’t just throw yourself into fire, Tony!” Steve shouted.

Tony spun around, fury surging through him just like the fire he saved Steve’s martyr ass from earlier that day. “Don’t be a hypocrite, Rogers! You’re lucky I jumped in to save you.”

They were in his lab. And despite current speculations, Tony was perfectly fine and healthy. Despite a burn on his right arm, which was bandaged and healing, thank you very much. Steve had apparently followed Tony down here after debrief. Apparently wanting to yell at him.

“I can handle myself perfectly fine, Stark.” Steve’s hands curled into tight fists at his sides, which was hilarious with the given statement. “I don’t need you to stop me every time you think I’ve gone too far.”

He was no longer in his uniform, but Steve was still a mess. His hair was still ragged from his helmet, which if you asked Tony, was the best it ever looked. His face was slightly dirty, soot on both his cheeks and his nose. He changed into a dark blue T-shirt that was just tight enough to fit around his abs, and grey sweatpants that he probably didn’t even know left very little to the imagination.

Tony had to fight just to keep his eyes on his face instead of his damn pants.

“So you just get to make every sacrifice play? Are you even calculating the risks? Because if you went in there, the man without the suit of iron, you’d be a lot darker than my arm right now.”

The argument seemed to smack Steve right in the face. Because of course the genius would know better than the soldier.

He twitched. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

The mechanic just raised an eyebrow, urging him to go on. 

“I don’t want you sacrificing yourself for me. I can handle a little fire, Stark.” The sudden desperation in his voice caught him off-guard.

His posture wasn’t so stiff anymore. And his voice didn’t have its usual noble grandeur.

Tony held his eyes closed for a beat. And then managed to look the blonde in the eye. They were wide and very unsure. Eyebrows pinched together with a remarkable amount of concern.

He turned to the left. “You’re wrong,” he said, shaking his head.

“What?”

He turned so he could poke Steve right in the chest, moving before he could even try and contain himself. “Super soldier serum doesn’t make you fireproof, idiot. I have a fireproof suit of armor. The only reason I even have this stupid burn is because of a malfunction. If you were in there you’d be covered in these bandages, and you wouldn’t be able to even leave medical tonight.”

Steve went still, watching Tony’s face carefully. He knew his eyebrows were furrowed in exhaustion and exasperation. He was tired of explaining over and over again why he kept fighting to make these “sacrifice plays” for people on his team.

“I—“

“And shut up about your healing factor,” he snapped before the super soldier could. “Don’t argue about the risks when you aren’t the one doing the math.”

Steve was completely silent now, lips closed in a thin line. Tony’s chest was rising and falling aggressively. It wasn’t often that he actually won an argument with the other man. Typically, Steve would just play the leader card and tell Tony to go to bed. And for some reason Steve was the only one Tony would let push him around.

He nodded slowly, inhaling. “Okay, Tony.”

Tony blinked. Cocked his head to the left. “Okay?”

“You should rest. Your arm will heal faster if you get some sleep,” he said. And then he was leaving the workshop.

He was leaving Tony standing there. Deflated of all his fury. 

You should rest. 

—

Before he could even reach up and open the cabinet for his favorite mug, Steve was at his side. Doing it for him. He could only stand there and blink in confusion as it was pressed into his left hand.

“I could’ve gotten that perfectly fine.”

“I know.” Steve didn’t even look at him as he walked away. Opening the fridge and pulling out the milk, pouring himself a glass.

“I don’t need you to take care of me, Rogers.” He stared at him. Urging him to look at him.

Finally, he looked up, an odd smile on his face. “I know, Tony.”

And then he turns. And then he leaves the kitchen.

Tony looked down at his mug and blinked. It was a white mug with red text saying “#1 Mentor.” Something stupid Peter gave him on national mentorship day.

Tony most definitely did not cry.

“Well that was interesting,” Clint says from the kitchen island, sipping his coffee slowly. Natasha sits next to him and smirks.

“Shut up,” Tony says, face warming.

Natasha hums, “weird tension between you two.”

“I’m more concerned that he’s drinking a glass of whole milk,” Clint said, pulling a face. 

Bruce from the end of the island, typing on his laptop, looked up over his glasses. “It’s good for your bones.”

Clint rolls his eyes. Natasha smirks harder.

Tony would argue that they had the same amount of tension that they had before, but he knew that was a damn lie. It was a running joke around the tower that Steve and Tony acted like an old married couple. Their bickering was just flirting, worrying over each other without even noticing.

However, Tony most definitely noticed.

—

As his arm healed, it also ached. Because according to their doctor and friend, Bruce Banner, it’s only gonna get worse before it gets better, Tony. 

Which meant Tony was probably in for another lecture from Steve. Once he found out how difficult Tony’s healing process was, he’d for sure bring up his own healing factor and then they would go back and forth about risks and resting again.

He was too exhausted to deal with that right now.

When he groaned in absolute agony, simply moving his arm down to adjust a hologram, his trusty AI finally decided to say something.

“Boss, perhaps you should rest.”

There was that word again.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, Jarvis.”

“You are not fine. You cannot move your right arm without aggravating the nerves. A break is mandatory.”

And suddenly, with another eye roll, he wondered again why he invented an AI with an attitude. Because the old Jarvis would agree, dumbass.

He sighed and rested his left elbow on the desk, cradling his forehead in his hand with exhaustion and pain. His right arm hung at his side, and he didn’t bother moving it.

“If you don’t proceed out of the laboratory I will have to alert someone for assistance.”

He raised his head immediately. “What?” He snapped. “I do not remember making that a protocol.”

“Mr Parker installed it a few weeks ago.”

God dammit.

A past conversation whipped through his mind. Something similar to “Peter it’s fine. I’m doing just fine” and “they’re only trying to help you, Mr Stark. It wouldn’t hurt to let people in.”

He shouldn’t have given that kid access to his AI. 

“Captain Rogers is still awake, boss,” he informed.

He almost demanded why the hell that was relevant until he realized “oh.” And then “Jarvis don’t—“

“Captain Rogers is on his way to you.”

Fucking hell.

Resigned; he sat there patiently until his knight in shining armor (or super soldier in plaid pajamas) found his way to his workshop.

“Tony?” He called, entering the lab with practiced precision, moving around robots and a mess of equipment until he found him slumped against his desk.

He sighed heavily. “Hi,” he offered.

Steve had the nerve to look worried. Face pinched and eyebrow raised. “Do I need to carry you or can you walk?”

Tony glared. “My legs still work, Cap.”

And then, of course, Steve smiled. “I know. Just offering.”

Tony huffed through his nose and managed to get out of his chair. However, due to a lack of usage, his legs stumbled. Steve caught his unhurt arm in a tight hold, helping him to his feet.

He avoided looking at him to avoid glaring again. “I got it, I got it.”

Steve nodded slowly. “Okay, Shellhead.” He let him go, and he straightened. 

“Just haven’t used my legs in a minute.” He stretched, wincing at the popping sound from his knees. 

He ached for a massage. And with Steve standing next to him, he pushed that urge away for another time.

“How long have you been down here anyway?” He asked, hovering just close enough as they exited the lab.

“Eh, few hours,” he answers distractedly.

“Seventeen,” Jarvis supplies.

Tony stumbles tiredly into the elevator and glares at the ceiling. “Hardly,” he mutters.

“Seventeen,” Steve echoes. He grabs Tony’s good arm again, making him startle from the sudden contact. “Is that why you weren’t at lunch? Or dinner? I asked Jarvis to call you multiple times.”

He had a vague memory of that… and of ignoring it.

He stiffens. “I wasn’t hungry. It’s fine, Rogers.”

“You haven’t eaten since breakfast yesterday, Tony. That’s probably why you’re in pain. You need nutrients.”

He snatched his arm away to hold up a finger. “First of all; yesterday is today if you’re still awake at 3am.”

“What?”

Another finger. “Second of all; you need to stop hanging out with Bruce.”

“I can know about nutrients without hanging out with Bruce, Tony—“

“And third of all; why are you awake anyway? I thought good Boy Scouts would be tucked in by now.” He crossed his arms.

Steve had the right to blush and turn away. “I was.”

“What? Jarvis woke you up for me?” He asked, almost aggravated at both Jarvis and Peter in the back of his mind for allowing the protocol to even do that.

“No, no,” he rushed. “I woke up before he asked.”

“Oh…” Tony watched him. “You had a nightmare?”

Steve shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I’m just here to help you, Tony.”

Well now he was aggravated. “Like hell,” he spit out. “You could’ve talked to someone. Anyone in the tower would have woken up to talk to you, Steve.”

Steve finally looked at him. He looked… pained. Tired. He had a feeling they weren’t very different right now.

He has a very strong urge to pull Steve haul from anything and everything bad. He wants to hold him until all his nightmares dissipate and he’s back to his strong, caring, smiling self.

But now he looks burdened. 

Tony’s surprised he even shared this with him. 

“Look, don’t worry about it,” Steve says with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Let’s just get some food for you.”

He would laugh if he wasn’t so confused and exhausted right now.

He ends up slumped over the island counter, head in his folded arms, about to fall asleep. Steve shakes him softly, making him jerk upright. “Oh—Steve.”

Steve smiles a bit more genuine this time. “Just me,” he agrees. “Made you pancakes.”

He slides a plate of pancakes topped with butter, already cut into perfect strips, in front of him.

“Pancakes at three in the morning?” Tony questions with a sly smile.

Steve shrugs once more. “You do say they’re my speciality.”

He agrees with his past self once he digs in, smiling and nodding at the blonde like a dork. This time he gets him to laugh willingly. 

He moves through the kitchen and gets them both glasses of water. 

Tony hums, “I prefer coffee.”

And Steve says sternly, “you aren’t having coffee right now.”

Tony has the nerve to obey him.

After he eats, he leads them both to the couch, holding Steve by the wrist. And even though the man could easily slip away and shake his head, Steve just lets him tug him toward the couch.

They both topple down and Tony reaches for the remote. “Care for a movie?”

Steve just raises an eyebrow. “Don’t you want to sleep?”

Tony smirks. “Well if I put on anything you enjoy I’ll get tired enough and trail off to my room.”

Steve rolls his eyes at him, and he puts on the Wizard of Oz. It’s one that he remembers the soldier enjoying. Peggy used to play it for Tony and tell him stories of the war. Stories of Steve being a reckless idiot.

Tony thinks it’s ironic and it brings a smile to his face, but decides not to tell him. 

He leans into Steve’s side easily, and he isn’t shoved away. He does, however, go still for a beat, before settling with Tony next to him. 

He isn’t sure if Steve notices, but his arm finds its way on the back of the couch, enveloping Tony in a safe space. Tony however, notices, and his heart immediately picks up speed. He prays silently that his stupid super-human ears don’t hear it.

When Dorthy is meeting Glinda the Good, Tony feels his eyelids grow heavy. He can’t control it, he tells himself, the way his head slides onto Steve’s chest. 

He feels, distantly, as he falls asleep, a warm hand running strong fingers through his messy hair. He doesn’t bother prying his eyes open to see. He just sighs in contentment and curls inward.

Toward Steve.

—

They don’t talk about it. Steve doesn’t mention it the next morning when he hands him his mug. And if the others notice any weird tension, they don’t acknowledge it out loud. 

When Steve leaves the kitchen and makes his way to the gym, Tony has to hold back a full body shiver. Because his entire body feels like it’s on fire and Steve is the reason. Because he can still remember his strong biceps pillowing Tony’s neck throughout the movie. He can still remember waking up to him playing with his fucking hair. 

Sometime throughout the night Steve must’ve fallen asleep too. But he still woke up early enough to leave for his morning run. 

Tony left to his room to try to get a nap and shower before the others gathered for breakfast. 

Part of him knew hiding in the lab all day was a bad idea, but another part of him just wanted Steve to hold him again. He had a weird amount of yearning in him. A strong, possessive yearning.

Yearning was never a word he associated with possessiveness. But when he looked at Steve, finally emerging from the gym for a bottle of water from the fridge, body flushed with sweat, he had to bite back another shiver.

And then he knew what was going on.

—

“You have a crush on him!” Peter declares with a grin that’s far too wide for the moment.

Tony glares and throws a wrench at him that he knows he’ll catch. “You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

Peter shrugs. “Well she is dead so… no?”

Tony rolls his eyes and turns back to his blueprints. “I don’t have a crush on him,” he denies, “and even if I did, I’m not sure that’s your business.”

“You’re my mentor, of course it’s my business,” Peter said, not even looking at him. He said it so genuinely that it nearly made Tony flinch.

His face was buried in homework. Because Peter was a teenager. A good one at that; who actually did his homework.

Peter wasn’t like Tony. Well, he definitely was, but he wasn’t. Affection came easy to Peter. He loved hugs and cuddling and comfort as much as Tony did, but he wasn’t shy of showing it.

Tony was only able to do that if he was drunk or, god forbid, being dragged out of his lab exhausted by a hot super soldier.

“What are you so worried about, anyway?” Peter asked. “He let you fall asleep on him during his favorite movie. You guys were cuddling.”

He pulled a grimace. “It’s not like that, Pete.”

Peter hummed. “Yeah you say that, but he won’t even let you get your own mug.”

“That’s just because of my arm!”

“It’s chivalrous!” Peter shouts.

And Tony rolls his eyes again. “It’s Captain America, he’s chivalrous with everyone.”

“So he’s grabbing everyone’s mugs now?”

He can already feel the blush making its way up his neck. “Well-“

“Case in point,” he grins. “You and Steve are pining for each other.”

Tony huffs in indignation. “This is not one of your Star Wars fanfictions, Peter. We’re adults.”

“Adults totally pine after each other. Why don’t you jump into his arms and kiss him already?”

“I regret telling you anything about my love life, underoos.”

“You just said love life!”

—

Jarvis told him he was having a nightmare and he was up in seconds, out of his workshop, and into Steve’s room.

By the time he gets there, he’s already awake. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, shivering and sweating and just fucking delirious.

Tony feels an ache in his chest at the sight. He wonders what it was like when he came to rescue him from the workshop.

“Steve?” He asks quietly, into the dimly lit room.

Steve doesn’t look up until Tony’s inches away from him. He slowly raises his head to meet his worrying gaze. “T-Tony?”

He felt his heart clench. He offered a small smile. “Hey there Cap.”

Suddenly his hand is reaching to cup Steve’s cheek. Like it’s an instinct. But instead of pulling away, the blonde just leans into it and sighs softly. 

“I wake you up?” He mutters a question.

Tony furrows his eyebrows. “Oh you know that’s impossible, Steve. You doin’ okay?”

He just shrugs. Which is pretty much an answer for Tony.

“Alright,” he shifts away. And Steve sits up straighter, like he’s ready to protest. “Let’s get you laid back down.”

Steve blinks in confusion as Tony moves around the bed. He climbs in on the right side and loops an arm around Steve’s right bicep, pulling him back down. Steve just lets him, once again. 

They’re laying side-by-side now, close enough to touch. It makes Tony feel warm and protective and soft all at the same time. Not many people have been able to do that to him.

Well, if anyone’s counting, zero people have been able to. Except Steve.

“You’re staying?” Steve asked. 

Tony hums. “If that’s okay?”

He looked relieved, and settled in closer to Tony. “Yeah,” he says softly. 

And Tony feels so goddamn protective over him. He wraps an arm around him and pulls him closer. 

Steve shivers and shakes his head. “I don’t wanna sleep again.”

It’s pathetic and sad. And Tony yearns so hard for him. He reaches out and holds Steve’s face carefully, rubbing his thumb under his eye. 

“It’s okay,” he murmured, because it felt like the right thing to do. “I’m here.”

Steve leaned further into the touch and closed his eyes, sighing inwardly.

Tony just holds him. Unctuous of the way his hands move to pet his hair. Steve curls into him, their chests now against each other. Tony doesn’t mind. He feels warm and protective as he holds him there, glad he’s the one there to keep him safe.

He manages to stay awake, keeping himself occupied by watching Steve’s face, until the man breathing grows content and sure. And then he’s asleep too.

Chapter Text

When he wakes up, remarkably early, he’s startled to find the bed empty and cold. He sits up instantly, thoughts of last night hitting him in a strong, sharp, wave. 

“Shit,” he mumbled, raising a hand to his hair. “Jarvis, where’s Steve?”

“Captain Rogers is currently in the gym.”

The gym? 

Usually, the man would be on his morning run this early. Or, because it was getting later, he would be flipping pancakes or brewing Tony’s favorite coffee. He blushed at the conceited thought. Steve didn’t live his life playing by Tony’s logic. 

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up with a stretch, popping both arms. He slept well that night. He sleeps better with Steve at his side, he is learning.

He heads to the kitchen first, grabs his own coffee, drinks and drinks an entire cup before he decides to check on Steve.

Last night was… strange. He could still see Steve shaking, still feel his chest against his own. It was soft, domestic, and sweet. And yet Steve ran off before Tony could’ve even opened his eyes.

He found him pummeling into a punching bag, nearly ripping it from the chains. He held back a surprised flinch at the aggression. He clearly hadn’t gotten over the nightmare just yet.

“Uh, Steve?”

He hit the bag one time, for good measure of course, and then left it swinging back and forth. He was wearing workout shorts, and a grey T-shirt that fit loosely around his form. He was sweating and panting and Tony couldn’t help but wonder just how long Steve had been awake.

He turned around, eyebrows furrowed. “Hey.”

It was a weirdly awkward greeting, and suddenly Tony felt out of place. Which was insane considering he was the one paying for this gym and this tower and everything in it. He could go wherever he wanted, thank you.

“Are you feeling alright?” He asked, scratching the side of his neck subconsciously.

Steve huffed, catching his breath. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it, Stark. Not a big deal.”

And then he began to swing again.

Instantly, something in the air changed. Or at least in Tony’s air. He felt confused laced with a subtle hint of anger. Because Steve was calling him Stark and ignoring his feelings and abandoning him in the cold of the morning.

“Uh, yeah not happening,” he said sharply, crossing his arms.

Steve stopped swinging again, and looked up to the ceiling. As if he were praying for patience. “Tony, I really don’t want to do this right now. We don’t need to talk about it.”

“Talk about what exactly?”

When Steve turned his head again, he made sure to get a real good look at him. He looked burdened again. He had a hard expression, like he was preparing a wall to place between the two of them. And that fucking pissed Tony off to an extreme extent.

“I shouldn’t have—you didn’t need to come to my room last night. I shouldn’t have done that to you.”

Okay. Maybe he was more confused than angry now. “Wait, what?”

“I’m—I’m the leader, Tony. You should be leaning on me. Not the other way around. I shouldn’t have collapsed on you like a baby like that.”

It was so sickening; To hear Steve talk like that. To see his shivering frame the night before, compared to his near-shaking overworking abs. 

Of course Tony would never oppose an opportunity to see them in action, but it wasn’t exactly worth it if Steve was doing it as some borderline unhealthy coping mechanism.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He demanded, although his question was only left with even more awkward silence. He wondered, distantly, if the only reason Steve even helped him the other night was because it was his duty as the leader. That just made Tony feel worse. Because why would he have assumed that there could've been something there?

Steve sighed silently, shoulders moving downward. Resignation, unwillingness, and somehow still exhaustion painted his features.

“You’re allowed to have your issues, Rogers.”

Because they were using last names now. 

Steve opened his mouth, but Tony kept going. “You’re not just the leader and you’re fucking allowed to lean on me. I wouldn’t have helped you if it was an issue. Really I’m just offended you can’t just be real about it.”

“Tony, stop,” Steve said, shaking his head.

“Why am I not allowed to help you?”

“Why do you keep doing things for me? You throw yourself into fire, you keep yourself up at night, you—you climb into my fucking bed! ”

The sound of Steve Rogers cursing. Or more; cursing at him for cuddling him was just foreign to him. 

He flinched; Not on purpose. But he felt like an idiot. Why would he even think this would work? Why would he let himself get trapped in this endless cycle of his protective and possessiveness. Of course Steve didn’t want that. 

Why would the one person who never failed to piss him off want that?

He clenched his fists. “Well I’m so fucking sorry that me caring about you , is an issue, Steve.”

And then he left. Because he couldn’t handle seeing the expression on his face at the open admission.

—

Really, it must’ve been a sick and cruel joke. Because Steve and Tony had history . History that lied before the Avengers, whether or not either of them would admit it out loud.

Tony grew up with an abusive father, a half-loving mother, a servant who basically raised him, and a godmother. A godmother named Peggy Carter. Peggy was the main reason Tony knew anything flattering about the man growing up. His father was the main reason he grew up resenting him.

He grew up in the shadow of the super soldier. Seeing him come out the ice, seeing the man who was everything he couldn’t be for his dad, it was nauseating, endearing, and shocking. 

And maybe it was because he knew it was the last thing Howard would want, or maybe it’s because Peggy would smirk in understanding, or maybe it’s because Jarvis would approve. 

Tony wanted Steve Rogers. He needed him. He wanted to have him . He wanted no one else to have the chance.

—

He wasn’t drunk the entire time, even though it was expected of him. He was just very, very out of it. He remembered Obie being there, hovering with a hard look on his face. Rhodey stayed at his side, a firm hand on his shoulder.

He didn’t walk up to his casket, but he laid a shaking hand on top of hers . The bodies were so badly torn from the accident that they didn’t even have a choice in making the caskets open. 

He hated his father. He hated the comparisons, he hated the bottle thrown, he hated the parties, the drinking, the emotional neglect. He couldn’t even look at his photo at the service.

But for some reason; his father had left everything to him.

“Obidiah Stane will take over the company until Mr Stark is of age,” the lawyer read off the document declaring Tony’s very future. 

Obidiah nodded curtly.

Tony rolled his eyes. He couldn’t even stand being called “Mr Stark.” It didn’t feel right. Because he knew, in the back of his mind, that they’d all just see him as the reckless kid he was before.

“The homes, located in Miami, New York, and Chicago are in Mr Stark’s name. All assets, funds, and stocks will go to Mr Stark. All copyrights and claims as well.”

His head shot up. Rhodey’s grip on his shoulder tightened.

Obie shot to his feet. “He’s a kid!” He gestured wildly at him, “what the hell do you think he’ll do with that?!”

The lawyer had every right to look grim. “I’m afraid it’s what’s written in the will. Unless the Stark has any objections, it’s up to Howard to decide the future for his son.”

As if that wasn’t a damn joke.

Obie looked at him. Rhodey looked at him. In fact, every businessman looked at him. There was a gross amount of people in the room, expecting things from his dad. As if Howard would give anyone anything willingly.

Any of these randoms that he complains about on a daily basis.

Then again, Tony wasn’t exactly expecting anything and here they were.

And hell, just because he wanted to see their reactions; “I don’t have any objections.”

Because if they saw him as a reckless kid then what the hell did he owe them?

—

“So you have the rights to the Super Soldier Serum project right?”  Hammer asked him, a passing question at a conference.

He didn’t think anything of it at first. He furrowed his eyebrows and threw on a press smile. “Well Howard did leave me most everything in the will.”

But Hammer wasn’t willing to let it go.

“And you haven’t tried to light that baby up again yet, huh?”

He could mildly feel Pepper watching him from the corner of the room, raising an eyebrow. He typically avoided Hammer at these things, but now he felt obligated to answer these demanding questions.

Obligated to set the record straight.

“That would be dangerous, Hammer,” he said easily, sipping his champagne.

He hummed in response. Clapped a hand onto Tony’s shoulder. “But think about the results? If we could have what they had with Captain back in the day. We’d be rich!”

He wasn’t sure if he was drunk, or just an idiot but he decided not to say “dumbass we’re already rich” he just brushed him off with a glance and a comment of; “It’s not always about the money, Justin.”

—

“It’s not a big deal,” he said, his words mirroring Steve’s from before.

He wasn’t planning on telling anyone of the outburst. But when he immediately left the room during lunch once Steve entered, he knew he was screwed.

So he found the easiest person; Dr Bruce Banner.

Bruce was leaning over a table, balancing chemicals delicately. He was probably annoyed that Tony was talking to him about random things while he was trying to focus, but Tony needed some kind of outlet and Rhodey was out of state.

“He’s probably just embarrassed, Tony.”

“So he yells at me?” He snapped. “For helping him?”

“Like I said,” he continued. “He is embarrassed. He’s from the same time your dad was, Tony. Nobody taught him about emotions. He was expected to get up and move on. Not… cuddle with his teammates.”

He could practically hear the eyebrow raise in Bruce’s words, and Tony just ignored it. He also ignored the “ same time as your dad” comment because he couldn’t even process that.

“Why don’t you just talk to him ?” Bruce asked, finally setting down the acid.

Tony shrugged, almost sheepishly. “He’s just gonna… yell at me again.”

He must’ve been hallucinating, because it looked like Bruce’s face softened at his words. “Tony,” he said almost too gently, “Steve cares about you. He’s not trying to hurt you.”

“Then maybe he should learn to let people in,” Tony huffed, arms crossed and tight. Steve cares about you. He shook his head to himself.

Bruce just smirked. “Maybe you should too. I heard through the grapevine that you and Steve were sleeping on the couch together recently.”

“ What ?!” He squawked. “How—“

“We all know. Me and Nat made some tea early in the morning and saw you when Steve was getting up for his run. He wanted us to keep it quiet because he didn’t want to embarrass you.”

“Well that’s just ironic,” he muttered.

Bruce shrugged. “It’s sweet. Clint knows because he found you sleeping alone and Jarvis isn’t really keeping things quiet for you.”

He made note of that for late, shaking his head again.

“Just talk to him. It’s probably easier than you’re making it out to be.”

—

He was going to talk to him. He really was. He just had… things to do first. Honestly it was only a coincidence that Peter just so happened to have an emergency during Tony’s only free time that day.

“You’re avoiding talking to Steve aren’t you?” Peter asked.

Tony gave him a short look. “I’m not avoiding him. You needed me, kid. I wouldn’t pick Steve over you.”

He turned the heat on when he noticed Peter shiver. He dropped the ice pack into his lap and inspected it. “You think they’ll want this back?”

Peter got into a fight today. Well, more of an attack if you’d ask Tony. The school called him because May was working and he was the kid’s emergency contact. Which didn’t make him feel any certain kind of way, of course.

“I’m sure they have plenty of ice packs, Pete,” he said easily.

“Are you sure you aren’t avoiding him? That fight was pretty bad."

He nearly swerved into another car. “I— what ? How do you even know about that?!”

“I know everything,” Peter said with a smirk. And then he shrugged. “Dunno. There’s just a vibe.”

Tony huffed. “If you knew I was avoiding him does that mean you got into a fight on purpose? Trying to help me out?”

Peter looked sheepish. “No…” he turned away. “It’s not like I was trying to get beat up today.”

Tony’s face softened. “I know, kid. I was joking. That kid is lucky I don’t sue his parents. I can’t believe they sent you home!”

Peter shrugged. “It’s fine, really. It’s not like I got detention or anything.”

“I’m gonna tell MIT to stay away from that kid.”

“Oh my god please do not do that!”

He hummed. “Can I at least get you ice cream?”

Peter tilted his head. “And you aren’t just doing this so you can avoid Steve?”

“Mainly so I can avoid my three o’clock meeting, but that’s a plus.”

Peter rolled his eyes, but Tony pulled into the dairy queen anyway.

It had been long since Peter and Tony cared to hide themselves when they were in public together. He was a senior, and most of the public knew about Tony Stark’s "supposed teenage son."  Most of the time Peter laughed at the rumors, but there was a certain something about his smile that Tony enjoyed seeing. Something paternal. Him and his team would never let the media do anything to Peter. He was of his own, and he swore he’d protect him.

Peter poked his ice cream with his spoon, vanilla flavor absolutely layered in sugar. If he was a normal kid, he’d be bouncing off the walls. “You didn’t have to do this, Y’know. Thank you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t have to rescue my kid from bullies and then treat him to ice cream?”

He blushed and shook his head. Then shrugged again. “It’s just a little embarrassing. I’m going to college next year and I’m still getting pushed around.”

He was a good kid. “You really don’t deserve it. You know that right?”

He sighed. “I mean, yeah I guess so. But Flash just has a hard life and—“

“Absolutely not.”

Peter glared at him. “Mr Stark—“

“First of all, my name is Tony. And second of all, you’ve been through a lot more than this shit brick and you haven’t done anything to him.”

He smiled at that, which was a win for Tony. “Did you just call Flash a shit brick?”

“It was the first thing that came to mind.” He didn't bothering laying into Peter about not fighting back, because he knew that would be an endless dance of the sweet, smart kid of his not wanting to hurt another "innocent" teenager even though he technically threw the first punch.

—

Pepper was his next distraction. Also, not on purpose. She entered his office after his last meeting, interrupting him as he was closing up for the day. 

He swore he was going to talk to Steve just then. But then Pepper said, 

“I need the Avengers to attend a gala this weekend.”  She had paperwork and a clipboard, thankfully not for him, held close to her chest as she declared this. 

He blinked at her. “What? This weekend?” 

She raised an eyebrow. “Do you have—plans, this weekend?”

He twitched. “Peter has a thing.”

“No he doesn’t. Why are you lying? It’s just a gala. You guys have done this before.”

“No, I'm serious!” He argued. “I have a uh—dinner.”

“A dinner. With Peter Parker. On Saturday night.” She raised an eyebrow.

“Yes.”

“Hmm. How unfortunate, because I remember Peter telling me he had a date with Michelle that night.”

There was a beat. And then Tony slumped into his chair with a sigh. “Of course he does.”

Pepper gave him a scrutinizing look. “What is wrong with you? Why can’t you just do this one thing for me? It’s just a gala, Tony.”

“Pepper-“

“No, I’m serious. You’re avoiding something and I’d like to know why.”

He deadpanned. “What if I said I didn’t think it was your business?”

“Then I would tell you to get over it and go to this gala.”

He rolled his eyes. “Me and Steve… had a falling out.”

“ Seriously ?”

“Yes!” He squeaked, embarrassingly enough. “We had a little argument.”

“Over what? You two have been pining after each other for months. I doubt you’ve had a ‘falling out’ .”

He waved a hand, and said uncommitted, “what do you know.”

“ Talk to him, Tony. You do this every time. I know you’re protective of others, and you walk away when you think you’re going to hurt them, but it really isn’t the way. If Steve cares about you he needs to know how he really feels.”

He felt his face heat at her genuine words. Pepper Potts, the all-knowing, supportive CEO everyone needs in their life.

He went silent, spinning a pen in his fingers and biting the inside of his bottom lip. He was getting antsy, and he was running out of time to fix this.

“Alright?”

He shrugged with a soft exhale. “Yeah. Alright. I guess.”

“Do not forget about this gala, Tony!” She said, making a swift exit.

—

Bruce removed his bandages and regarded the clean skin with a smile. “Looks like this healed well, Tony.”

He smirked at his own arm. “Look at that. Didn’t even need a healing factor,” he joked, mocking Steve even though he wasn’t around. 

Bruce gave him a sharp look. “You didn’t talk to him!”

Tony threw his arms, yes both arms, because he could do that now. “What was I supposed to say?! Hey, I’m sorry for helping you.”

Bruce sighed, “Tony, we already talked about this. Just tell him why you were helping him. He’ll understand. He might be from the 40’s, but he’s not an idiot. Leaders like Steve just need an extra hand with getting used to actually asking for help.”

“What if…” He swallowed thickly around his own word, not even wanting to voice the fear. “What if he doesn’t feel the same?”

Bruce’s shoulders relaxed slightly, and his face took on a look of pity and understanding. “You really are dumb for a genius, Tones.”

Tony’s shoulders, in contrast to Bruce’s, hitched upward in defense. “Fuck off,” he said as second nature.

Bruce rolled his eyes politely. “Just talk to him. Or I’ll do it myself.’

“Absolutely not.”

“Maybe I’ll get Colonel Rhodes to do it. Or maybe even Pepper.”

Tony gave him a withering look. 

“Ooh, what about Peter?”

--

He was gonna do it. He was gonna talk to Steve Rogers about their feelings. Maybe they wouldn’t work it all out at once, but Bruce wasn’t wrong. He couldn’t go on much longer without saying anything. He was a confrontational man, whether he liked to admit it or not. He’d let his concerns build up in his chest, starting as a small flame, until he eventually erupted like a volcano. 

He finally gained the courage to leave his room around eight in the morning, when everyone else gathered for breakfast. He didn’t get much sleep. He left his lab at four, only giving him four hours of sleep, which was basically just a power nap.

Clint, Bruce, and Natasha sat around the island, sipping their coffee and eating whatever their hearts desired. Looks like Seve wasn’t planning on making any signature pancakes.

His eyebrows furrowed in concern as the super soldier slid into the kitchen, having obviously come from his morning run. Tony tried not to notice the slick line of sweat on his forehead, or the red blush from the heat outside. He subtly wished he could see those marks on him in a different setting.

Tony reached into the cabinet for his own mug. Steve glanced down at him, making his heart race so fast he felt like he was going to explode. He hoped his stupid super hearing didn’t notice. He got his own coffee. Steve didn’t spare him another glance, grabbing a gatorade from the fridge and escaping the kitchen in a brisk walk, leaving for his room.

The room fell silent. 

And finally Clint said, “how long are you two doofuses gonna let this go on?” Natasha smacked him in the arm.

Bruce seemed to watch his face carefully, seeming to gauge his reaction. 

He just leaned on the counter for a beat, face in his hands. And then he pushed up, grabbed his coffee, not even bothering to get food. He went straight for the lab.

He ignored his teammates, suddenly sounding weirdly concerned for his predicament, calling after him. That could wait for later. Everything could wait for later. He was tired of feeling things. Tired of waiting. Tired of even thinking, and for a genius inventor; those were dangerous words.

He wanted Steve all for himself. Which was also a dangerous feeling. He was used to feeling protective over people he considered his family, keeping as close of an eye on them as possible, but it had never been this bad. Not even with those he dated. He wanted Steve more than he’d wanted anything in his life.

He wanted to argue with him, wanted to comfort him, wanted to kiss him and love him and prove to him not just with his words that he was his.

He was so screwed.

Chapter Text

"Maybe I can swing down there and just... punch him," Peter offered.

Tony gave him a short glare from the rooftop they were perched on. A little ways away, in the center of a small park on the edge of Queens, was a giant lizard. Not completely unexpected for the city of New York, but still a very annoying interruption to his Friday afternoon. Peter was at school, when he ditched (which Tony was totally going to lecture him about that later), and called him to tell him about the sudden Avengers Level Threat. 

Peter and Tony had taken place on a rooftop, pausing from their evidently weak tactics of blunt force. Clint and Natasha were perched on a rooftop two buildings down, weapons aimed at the reptile. Steve and Bruce were on the ground, Bruce twitching nervously on standby while Steve glared at the seemingly undefeatable foe. They'd found his weak spot, but it was unfortunately located right on his collarbone, a difficult spot to knock into from their heights.

"It has to be Stark," Natasha decided for them. "He's the only one with enough firepower."

Steve, too far away to really tell, seemed to nod in agreement. "Think you can take it, Tony?" 

Something about the tone of his voice hit Tony in a strange way. They'd hardly spoken since the gym argument. It was like they were just colleagues, which was somehow worse than whatever was happening before they cuddled the first night. He sounded, and maybe he was imagining it, worried for him. As usual, Steve didn't want Tony to take the shot.

"I got it, Cap," he said curtly. And then he used his thrusters to lift himself off the roof, only for them to make a horrifying sound of mechanic failure, spluttering and dying. Tony was knocked back onto the roof. The teenager thankfully caught him before he could fall flat on his butt.

But it was too late, everyone was watching them. They knew Tony wouldn't be able to do it. They were screwed because of him.

"Tony?" Natasha asked, "what just happened?"

"Jarvis?" He demanded. His blue screens, usually telling him everyone's vitals and scanning his surroundings, flashed and died. "Something's wrong with my suit. I think Jarvis is down for the count."

But he couldn't hear anyone in his helmet, which means his comms had gone with his suit.

Peter's lenses squinted in what was probably concern, and he pressed on his own comm. "Jarvis is down, along with Mr Stark's suit. Technical error or something," he explained as best as he could. And then, to Tony's absolute horror, he took off his mask. Peter's brunette curls were a mess from the mask. But his face still held his usual confident smile. He then, to even more of his dismay, ripped the comms out of his ear and placed them into Tony's hand. "Take your helmet off and put these in."

Tony spluttered, but took his helmet off anyway, if anything but to see the kid better. "That's insane, kid. You aren't fighting without comms. And put your mask back on!"

Peter shook his head, but he pulled the mask back over his face. "I can still hear you guys without them." And then he tapped his ear. "Super hearing, remember?"

Tony huffed in indignation. "This solves nothing. How am I supposed to get over there without my damn suit?"

Peter hummed. "Maybe I could swing you over there?"

"Absolutely not." He shoved Peter's comm into his ear. "Rogers, what's the new plan?"

Steve sighed in stress, and Tony could almost see him running a hand through his blonde. "I-"

But before he could even formulate a response, Clint said, "hey what's the over-under on Spider-kid catching me if I leap off this building heroically?"

"What?" 

Natasha snorted. And Peter tilted his head in thought, "I think I could manage that. Just say when."

Tony immediately shook his head again. "Hey hang on-"

"What's your plan, Hawkeye?" Steve asked, apparently full of curiosity and not concern for Peter's physical safety. 

"No, no, this is not happening," Tony argued. "He doesn't even have a comm!"

"I don't need a comm to catch a damsel in distress," Peter remarked.

"Did the kid just say something mean to me?" Clint asked.

"Plan, Hawkeye," Steve repeated.

"The lizard is on route to pass us here in a minute," Natasha supplied. "Birdbrain here is gonna jump down and shoot him with an explosive arrow."

There was a short beat of silence, before Steve asked, "is this really the best idea?"

Tony threw his hands up, because even though they were fighting, at least someone understood him. 

Clint huffed, "I have great aim, thank you."

"That wasn't exactly my issue, Clint."

"We're running out of time, guys," Bruce stressed. "It's now or never."

Peter stared at Tony, listening to his comm that wasn't in his ear very intently.

"Alright, here I go!" Clint yelped. And then he was jumping, and Peter was leaping after him. And Tony's heart was most definitely going to burst.

Clint knocked an arrow and shot it right at the monster's collarbone, but it exploded on impact, knocking him into Peter's arms harder than expected. But Spidey was strong, so we simply webbed them away as the Lizard fell to the ground and shrank back to an acceptable size. He dropped onto the ground, but lowered Clint until he was laying down. He pressed his fingers to Hawkeye's ear, activating his comm and said, "Hawkeye is down!"

Full of immediate anxiety, Tony pressed his emergency release hatch, allowing him to fully stumble out of the suit and toward the door to the building. He ran down the roof stairs, found an elevator, and cursed whatever god invented elevator music. By the time he found them, the others were already surrounding them. 

"He's just unconscious," Bruce informed, rising to his feet.

Natasha cupped his cheek in a sisterly form, sighing at the sleeping man. "He really is an idiot."

"So I didn't kill him?" Peter questioned, rubbing the back of his head as an anxious tick.

"Hawkeye is strong. You did good, Queens, he'll be okay." Steve said, squeezing his kid's shoulder. And Tony didn't even know how to begin feeling about that.

Natasha was looking up at him now. "We'll send the Jet to get your suit from that roof."

He shrugged, because that was honestly the last thing on his mind right now. Steve was eyeing him, and Tony was purposefully avoiding looking at him. He could feel Peter watching him too, knowingly catching onto the tension between the two men. He was suddenly glad Peter was standing on the other side of Clint, because if he was next to Tony he'd be not-so-suddenly nudging him toward the super soldier.

"What happened with Jarvis?" Bruce asked, and apparently that was of everyone's concern, because now they were all looking at him expectantly. 

He half-sighed, already feeling a heat grow on the back of his neck. He hoped his nervousness wasn't too obvious. "I think his mainframe is down. I wont be able to check on the systems until I get back into the lab tonight."

They all nodded slowly, but he was sure Bruce and Peter were the only ones who understood specifically what he was talking about. Jarvis wasn't some random voice in the tower, he had a computer in the lab which controlled most of his functions. In there he could structure everything about him, which he hardly did because it just felt wrong on some account. Jarvis, as an AI, had been around so long it was like another friend of his.

Which if he said that out loud it would just sound pathetic. 

"Okay well let's head back. Someone should bunk with Clint tonight and keep an eye on him, if possible," Steve said, pointedly looking at Natasha. She nodded and squeezed Clint's arm softly.

Clint, like most of them, didn't do well with understanding the true depth of his injuries. Not all of them were super soldiers or gods, and when surrounded by them, it was hard to remember that you had genuine health concerns. In the back of his mind, although he ignored it, he wondered if that was why Steve was so worried about him making "sacrifice plays." The thought caused his face to burn in embarrassment and exhaustion. He was tired of thinking of his feelings.

--

Hours later, Tony was finally in the lab alone. After the mission of the day, his tiredness had caught up with him and he decided there was no point trying to talk to Steve today. Peter had ran home to his aunt, and everyone else had gone god knows where to relax. They all had their preferences. Apparently Tony's was sitting elbow deep in computers, talking to a robotic voice alone in his workshop.

"Alright Jarvis, let's get you fixed up," he murmured, mostly to himself.

When the screens turned on, they flashed red at him. A glitchy version of Jarvis's voice informed him that a system update was mandatory, which he'd apparently missed a week ago. A week ago, when he was probably laying with Steve instead of fixing Jarvis. He winced. He would have to shut everything down for the night.

"Fucking hell," he muttered, "well let's get it over with then, huh? Shut her down, Jar."

The lights in the lab, and probably the whole tower too, flickered. Systems whirred until there was an oddly empty feeling in the room. The others most likely wouldn't notice, but Tony had learned to rely on Jarvis so much that it was disquieting when he wasn't around. The sound of the lab's glass doors pulled him out of his daze. He perked up, half-wishing it was Steve, and half-relieved to see Natasha instead.

"Steve wanted me to make sure you came up to eat," she said, a glimmer of a smile dancing on her face.

He scoffed, "and he couldn't have come himself?"

"Well he asked Jarvis but didn't get an answer. I offered to come down."

He bit back an eye roll and swallowed an ounce of sadness. Steve never wanted him in the first place, why bother now? 

"You know I wont gossip with you about this," she informed, cocking her head to the side.

"Did I saw something out loud?"

"No, but your facial expressions are pretty easy to read," she smirked. "Now get your butt up here for dinner."

With not much to do until his trusty computer assistant returned, he followed her upstairs to the common room. Steve was discussing something very intently with Clint, who surprisingly looked happy and healthy. Then again, he always bounced back from injuries. It wasn't really a mission unless Clint managed to hurt himself. When he saw Tony enter the room, he turned to look at him and grin, breaking off his conversation with Steve. 

He still couldn't help but feel an ounce of guilt. If he would just concentrate on what was important instead of a nagging feeling about Steve, he could've avoided the situation altogether. Maybe this was Jarvis's plan all along; call Steve as a distraction, malfunction, and then humiliate him.

"About time you show up!" He said cheerfully, moving around the table to loop an arm around Tony's shoulder. "Don't feel bad about the suit, Tones, we got that guy didn't we?"

God was everyone reading his face today?

He huffed slightly, and Natasha said, "Peter helped too!" She set a dish of lasagna onto the table and everyone took their seats.

"How is Peter?" Bruce asked, seeming to drive a conversation simply to keep Tony's thoughts at bay. 

"He's having dinner with his aunt tonight."

"And you're paying, right?" Clint questioned with a grin./

Tony rolled his eyes, but not at the Avenger. "I tried. May doesn't want my help. Or my money. Or my anything."

"She knows you do enough for Peter as it is," Steve said, eyes on his food, avoiding Tony's stare. 

The team nodded in agreement, and if they kept the conversation going Tony wouldn't know. He was too focused now on Steve and his genuine words and avoidance. The problem with Steve was that he was always a sweetheart. It was like he couldn't help it. Even if he knew he shouldn't, or if he didn't want to, he still felt the need to help people. Which only made it harder for Tony to get a read on him. He was the opposite of Tony; rash, honest, and a little harsh if necessary.

But Tony would never be harsh to Steve. He'd be honest. He'd never say anything to the blonde that didn't outright match how he felt. It was just the way he was wired. But he still couldn't find it in him to just be mean to him. Tony could be the biggest jackass in the world. Just not to Captain America. His American Sweetheart.

--

In a flurry of strange confidence and confrontation, surged by Steve's honest words at the dinner table, he grabbed the man's wrist before he could escape after dinner. Everyone else had cleaned up and trailed off to their rooms, leaving the two of them alone. For the first time in what felt like forever, even though it hadn't even been two days.

Steve didn't snatch his hand away like Tony expected, instead he simply turned around, regarding him with a look of concern. "Tony?"

"You've been avoiding me." He said, releasing him once he felt sure he wouldn't scurry off. He folded his arms in an attempt to both look and feel stronger.

Steve looked away. "I don't want things to be weird."

"Weird? What is this about our fight? That wasn't the first time we've argued, Steve." Although it was the first time in a while.

He shook his head. "It was the first time we've argued about that!"

"What, your lack of self-help skills or my sense of selflessness?" He joked.

Steve's face turned into a glare, and he turned to walk away. But Tony wasn't going to let him go. Not now. He grabbed his bicep this time, a most secure hold. "Wait, don't leave," he said, sounding more desperate than he meant to.

The soldier's face softened slightly, but he stayed guarded. He wished he would just be comfortable with him. He wished he would just drop the act and let Tony protect him like he wanted.

"Just... explain it to me," he offered. And as an afterthought, "nicely."

Steve seemed to think about it for a moment. And when Tony let go of him, he was grateful to see a nod. 

"I care about you. More than-More than I think I should," he admitted. "The thought of you jumping into action for me makes my skin crawl with dread, Tony. I can't lose you. And I can't be the one to hurt you."

Tony's face immediately fell. The way Steve used the words care about shouldn't sound sinful. "How would sleeping in your bed hurt me?"

Steve shook his head. "I know you, Tony. You're protective, but I am too." Tony's breath caught in his throat and he froze. "It's-we're too similar for this to work, Tony."

"For what to work?" He asked, even though he already knew what he meant. He said it so quietly he was worried he'd have to repeat himself. God bless super hearing.

"You know what I mean," Steve said softly. And oddly enough, he was smiling softly too. Smiling at him. A weird, domestic look that should not give Tony's stomach butterflies.

"I mean, Barton and Romanoff might," he says weakly, suddenly so nervous he forgets how to breathe.

But Steve knows. And Steve understands. And Steve, apparently, isn't mad at him, just worried, and protective, and fucking caring. A strong hand, bigger than his, lands on the side of his neck, cupping him in a half-hold, thumb coming down to caress the skin just below his ear. He definitely forgets how to breathe then. Because somehow their faces were closer than before. And they weren't kissing, even though they could be which just made his hairs stand on end. 

"You know what I mean, Tony," he repeats, quieter this time.

Tony's eyes flutter, suddenly very aware of how quiet the kitchen was. Steve could probably hear his heartbeat. He'd know he was a nervous wreck, freaking out about a hold that could totally be platonic even though after those confessions that had to be impossible.

Suddenly he let him go, and Tony's skin felt very cold and lonely. Steve's gaze lingered as he slowly left the room, and this time Tony made no move to stop him. He wasn't sure his feet would move even if he tried.

"I'll see you later, Tony."

--

He's never been more thankful to see Jarvis come to life, colors turning from Red to a beautiful light orange. He's thankful until it immediately turns red again. "Sir, Captain Rogers appears to be in distress."

He never sat up so fast in his life. Blinking with concern because he didn't expect those to be Jarvis's first words alive again. "What? Does he want me there?"

"I believe he did say your name."

That alone had Tony scrambling out of his chair and out of the lab, leaving the door wide open in a panic to find him. Of course, he's in his room again, but this time he isn't awake. He's shaking and breathing uneven and heavily. Tony is worried he might have to call medical if he can't get him to snap out of it.

But he places a firmly soft hand on his shoulder and squeezes. "Steve. Steve, sweetheart, you need to wake up." The pet name comes out sickeningly easy for him. 

Steve breathing changes, and he begins to stir, eyes blinking slowly to life. "Tony... Tony?"

"Hey," Tony breathes, because he's relieved he's awake. He sits next to him as Steve forces himself to sit against the headboard. "You had a nightmare."

"Yeah," he agrees. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head, "no, don't apologize. I'm glad you called for me."

Steve's eyes creased in confusion. "Did I-I called for you?"

Tony tilts his head, hope filling his body for once this week. "Well why do you think I'm here, sweetheart?"

Steve blushes and tilts his head, which just tells Tony that he is adorable when flustered. "I'm still sorry."

This time, Tony finds Steve's hand and interlocks their fingers. The soldier lets him, much to Tony's surprise. He just swallows and blinks rapidly, seeming to fight off a post-nightmare wave of emotion. 

"It's okay, Steve. I'm not going anywhere," he promises. "Even if you decide you need to."

Steve stares at the bedsheets for a moment, contemplating this, and then he looks up at Tony with a shimmer in his eyes. "Can you lay with me?"

So they found themselves in a familiar position, Steve tucked into Tony's shoulder, breathing easily as Tony's runs a hand through his hair. He never wants to leave this moment. Never wants to forget the scent of Steve and the warmth of his body flush against his. Because for once since this all started, he feels like he understands, and he feels like Steve is actually his. 

"Don't leave me," Steve murmurs into his shoulder.

Tony finds a strange strength and kisses his hair, because it's so close to his face that it's hard to help it. He almost regrets it but Steve moves his head to glance up at him, eyes wide and bright. And then he smiles, and Tony can feel his face growing hot and he just knows he looks like a dork.

He lays back into Tony and closes his eyes. He says, "goodnight, Tones." 

And then they're both out like a light.

--

Tony isn't shocked to find Steve hugging his body when he wakes up in the morning, he's just happy and content. He gives him a small squeeze, letting him know he's awake too. Steve smiles again, and Tony wants to curl and hide because how is anyone supposed to react to such a perfect man? 

"You skipped your run?" He asks, once he looks at the clock and realizes the time.

But Steve just shrugged and stretched as they both sat up, inches apart. "I didn't want to leave you."

It's such a strong contrast from before and it feels much better. Much lighter. Like this is how things should be. This right here, should be the Tony-Steve norm. 

He hopes, in the far corner of his mind, that Steve will stay his forever.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Steve smiled at him from the bar in the kitchen, sending him a ungodly smirk that could only be labeled as flirting. He instantly felt his cheeks warm, and turning pointedly to face his coffee, that was taking way too long to brew.

Natasha was suddenly next to him, clearing her throat and making him glance up with a glare. Because she knew everything, even from a few passed glances and gestures, Nat would pick up what the two Avengers hardly even put down yet. And Tony desperately wanted to avoid that; for now.

He stepped aside, letting her pass and reach into the mug cabinet. 

"So, what's everyone's plans today?" Clint questioned from the bar. "Because if you guys are down... I have some new arrows I'd like to test out." 

He grinned wickedly, but Steve was already shaking his head. "No, no. We will not be test subjects to another one of your alien practice attacks." 

"But I'm all healed!" He argued, "and besides I need to make sure I can take another shot when good-old-Jarvis shuts down." 

Tony gave him a distasteful glance. "Jarvis is listening and he has feelings."

"Jarvis is a robot, Tony." Natasha quipped, sliding behind him and moving to sit next to Clint. "But I am with Steve, I don't want arrows shot at me today."

The archer huffed in annoyance. "You people are no fun," he muttered.

He poured himself his coffee and scrolled through his internal drive of plans for the day, only to come up short. Which was weird. For the face of a very rich and famous company, he never really had a planned "off day" unless Pepper had a reason.

Which meant...

He shut his eyes and set his mug down, nearly shouting his declare of, "shit!" for the entire room to hear.

The conversations died and everyone turned to send him their confused, questioning looks. 

"Tony," Natasha drawled, "do you also have a negative opinion on illegal dog breeding?"

"No," he huffed. "Well, yes, obviously, but no. That's not really important to me. We actually do all have plans today. Very last minute, very fashionable-"

He was cut off by the ding of the elevator, and a very pissed-looking Pepper Potts stepping out and into their well-kept kitchen. "You really are the king of procrastination, huh?"

"I was getting to it! Just now, actually. Right guys-"

"Nope," Bruce cut in. "He explained very little, actually."

Pepper regarded him with narrowed eyes and a thin look, before turning to the conveniently sat group of Avengers at the bar. It wasn't very often that they saw Pepper, but when they did, she held their attention at a complete standstill. None of them would dare disrespect the Miss Potts by turning away while she spoke to them.

"We have a gala arranged tonight, at seven. I had tried to make sure you would all know around a week ago, but it seems your resident mechanic has been distracted this week."

He leaned against the counter, sipping from his #1 Mentor mug, and avoiding Steve's lingering gaze. He looked at him as if he was actively perceiving him, and it made his skin crawl with anticipation. It was like he was trying to read every thought in his head just through his eyes. Tony was half-worried he would figure out how to read minds.

"Distracted, huh?" Natasha tilted her head at him, and he rolled his eyes.

Of course, it didn't fail to make Steve blush. Because if he told anyone about their "cuddle sessions" it was probably Nat. And with him telling Bruce, and Thor being god knows where, that really only left Clint to piece it together on his own.

He knew, in the end, that it wasn't really romantic. They were just good friends, is all. It's not like they slept together. And as embarrassing as it was, Tony didn't think he could sleep with him anyway.

Being with Steve, intimately, was like a dream for him, of sorts. The thought of even having that sort of chance felt like he was balancing on a glass beam that was about to break. He couldn't ruin this, he couldn't break Steve like he had so many others before. Because again, Steve was different. Steve was his.

He coughed, everyone snap their apprehensive looks to him. It was like controlling a class of middle schoolers. "Well, you guys know the drill. Look nice, talk nice, don't bully any reporters."

"What's this event for anyway?" Clint asked, typing on his phone now.

"It's a charity event for childhood cancer," Pepper supplied, knowing Tony didn't have a clue. "We have to maintain this sort of thing to prove the Avengers are still on the side of the people."

"What they didn't get that idea at our last fight?" He remarked, huffing and setting his phone down.

Natasha gave him a half-sympathetic look and patted his shoulder. She nodded up at Tony, "is the kid going to this one?"

"He has... plans," he said simply, not wanting them to bug him about his date next time they saw him, which either way it was still a possibility.

Natasha hummed, but she was already pulling out her phone like she was ready to text him about it anyway.

"Okay, well," Pepper glanced at her watch, "I want everyone ready by at least six." And then she was gone before they could argue.

He scrubbed a hand down his face and sighed. "Dear god, I do not want to go to this thing."

"Did you try faking a Peter emergency?" Clint offered.

"That feels unethical..." Steve muttered.

"Oh did you want to go to this thing, Steve?" He questioned, turning dramatically in his seat.

The soldier half-shrugged. "I don't mind them, really. I think it's nice to just get dressed and hang out."

"You also don't have enemies at these things though," Clint added, "Tones always has people out to get him."

Tony snorted, but he looked at Bruce and shared a knowing look. Steve Rogers, as the perfect man he was, wouldn't be thought of as an enemy. But at an event full of rich scientists, they'd all be glancing curiously at the man who was actually injected with the super serum and survived.

Tony would be damned if they tried to use him at this thing.

--

"Are you excited to see Steve all dressed up in a suit?" Peter asked, the smile notable in his tone, although he couldn't see his face.

Tony rolled his eyes. "And are you excited to see Michelle all dressed up?"

"Ugh, please don't remind me. I keep getting sweaty and nervous about it. God I'm gonna mess this up aren't I? She's gonna realize I'm a dork and leave me at the restaurant and I'm gonna be embarrassed and then I'll die alone," he ranted, reminding Tony very much of himself.

He sighed inwardly. "Kid, you're overthinking this."

"But she's so smart! She's gonna know I'm an idiot."

"You are not an idiot, Peter, keep talking like that and I'll take your suit away again," he threatened, and he was uncharacteristically quiet in response. "Pete, kiddo, it's gonna be fine. I promise you. She already knows you're a dork, and if you got this far with your little personality there's no way she'll turn back now."

Peter finally made a noise of acknowledgement in the back of his throat.

He glanced up at the screen, noting that they'd been on the phone for nearly an hour. Peter called him, freaking out over what to wear and how to talk and all the date-related issues, which just turned into them chatting about what was going on in their days.

Which led to Peter finding out about the previous night, and sounding way too thrilled for Tony's likings. He mentioned something along the lines of, "you two are totally my endgame. My absolute O T P." Which Tony wasn't even sure he wanted to understand.

"So are you gonna talk to Steve tonight?" Peter asked, somehow, once again, switching the conversation back over to him.

Tony made an indignant sound. "I already did."

He could picture the kid rolling his eyes. "Oh you know that doesn't count. You know, a talk that ends in actually kissing. Hugging wont get you wedding bells, you know."

"Don't forget who you called for advice, Parker."

"Whatever, whatever." He sighed heavily. "I should go though, I'm meeting her there in half an hour."

That made Tony pause to glance at his clock, realizing he was supposed to be upstairs with the rest of the Avengers in less than an hour too. "Er, me too. Pray for me, kid. Word around the block is Jusin Hammer will be attending." 

He can't even be bothered to hold back an eye roll just at the name. Because all Hammer provokes is pure annoyance for him. He can already hear his grating voice asking him for shares and project plans and blah blah blah.

"Bye Mr Stark, love you."

He feels his chest stutter at the easiness of Peter's love, saying a quick, assured reply, and hanging up before he can notice. He's still getting used to being a father. And god, with the amount of grey hairs he's getting, Peter doesn't make it very easy.

--

He is two minutes late to meeting everyone by the elevator, and Pepper is already glaring at him. "I had to fix my tie!" He argues, which for once, isn't a lie.

He stumbled over his own hands, redoing is multiple times in his mirror, because the thought of how good Steve would look tonight was piercing his frontal lobe, causing him to rethink his mere existence. He couldn't look like a mess knowing Steve would be his classic super-soldier-pristine. 

"Yeah, yeah," Pepper shook her head, using her palm to press his tie firmly against his chest.

He let his eyes wander over Steve a little longer than necessary, taking in the way his navy-blue suit held his muscles perfectly. The way his hair looked when it was gelled, and wishing he could mess it up a little.

He exhaled silently and looked away, saving the memory for later. It was better to imagine it in his alone time versus accidentally making a move now and ruining everything for the both of them.

--

He stayed near Bruce and Natasha, mingling smoothly with those who approached them. He kept a champagne glass in his hand at all times, knowing it wouldn't get him dangerous-level-drunk. 

Somehow, Steve had remained in his line of vision the entire night. He wasn't sure how or why, if they'd done this on purpose or just inadvertently, but it happened either way.

And his chest stuttered as a nicer looking man grabbed Steve's arm in an almost sultry way. He set his glass, which was very quickly emptied, on a passing tray and grabbed another one.

"Mr Stark are you alright?" A business man, who's name he'd already forgotten, was asking him. 

He just threw on a press-smile and nodded. "Of course. For the kids right?" And then they were all raising their glasses. And drinking again,

They had some strange, unspoken motto in the business. That if they had any event. Any charity, gala, press, anything, they always had champagne. They always needed an excuse to drink. And with his growing feeling of jealousy, Tony more than ever.

He risked another glance toward Steve, only to find him swarmed on some accounts, multiple greedy-looking scientists just begging to find out what was real inside him.

Once the man had finally realized Tony couldn't care less about his conversation had left, Natasha was grabbing his bicep and drawing his eyes to hers. "Why don't you just go over there?"

He took a sip of his glass and shook his head.

"He doesn't want to be one of them," Bruce said. "They all just want to use him for the serum. They know they can't do any supers-serum work without SI approval, so the most they can do is grail him at these events."

Natasha stared at Tony as Bruce spoke. "What does he mean, SI approval?"

"Howard owned the rights. It went to me, but I didn't do anything with it." He watched the drink slosh in his glass slowly. 

He couldn't. He couldn't do anything that he knew would turn him into one of those douchebags. He didn't want to become another Howard Stark.

"But doesn't that mean you wouldn't be like them?" She asked softly, encouraging. "Tony you have everything they want right in front of you and you still don't fall for it. Steve knows that you aren't like them."

"He said he likes these events.." he said slowly, weighing the words.

"Yeah, well Steve is a big softie. He's here for the charity, not to get in the rich guys pants."

Tony's face flushed as he rolled his eyes. He lifted his eyes to find his soldier again, who was finally left with only one person left. The last person Tony wanted to see there. Justin fucking Hammer.

Bruce blinked next to him. "Is that-"

"Fucking hell," he cursed, looking around the room until he found Pepper, who met his eyes carefully. She frowned tightly, because they both knew that if anyone would actually try something tonight- it would be Hammer.

His feet were moving before he could stop himself, before his ears could notice Bruce's startled: "Tony!"

He was wrapping an arm around Steve's bicep in a precise motion, catching the attention of both men. "Hey, just wanted to check on our resident super soldier," he said easily.

He felt fire in his veins as Steve's eyes flared when they met his. His grip tightened when Steve looked at Hammer, and then back at Tony.

"Hey Tony," he replied, a warm smile on his face, like this was a normal greeting for them.

"Oh, Hammer!" He feigned surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Justin hummed lowly, gaze marking down Tony like he was another predator, and Steve was their prey. But that just wasn't true. Because they weren't going after the same thing. "Oh I'd assume the same thing as you, Stark. For the kids, right?"

He raised his glass, but his face stayed leveled on Hammer. A small twitch of his eye saying "you know what I mean" with very little words. He was suddenly very glad that Steve didn't own an industry, because their business-manner body language and looks would mean nothing to him. 

Although when this went south, because Tony could already feel it coming, he'd most likely have to explain it later.

"Well we were just talking about the super serum," Hammer says matter-of-factly.

Steve stiffens ever-so-slightly, catching Tony off guard. He sends him a concerned look, but Steve isn't looking at him. 

"You know, I really do think that project could do a lot of good. And we've had our disagreements in the past, Stark, but I still believe it should be green lit. You know how hard your father worked to get that under his control."

Steve blinked, suddenly removing himself from Tony's grip, looking at him with a look Tony had never seen before. He felt his body go rigid, because Steve was looking at him like he didn't know him. Like he didn't trust him.

"What is he talking about, Tony?" Steve asked, voice quiet, like it was only for him to hear.

Except it wasn't. Because Justin was here too. Grinning, because he'd known exactly what he'd done. "Nobody told you?" he gasped, "Tony here basically owns your life. Thought maybe they'd let you know once you got out of the ice. We all tried to get a chance, y'know. But all these years he's never loosened his grip. Stubborn just like his father."

The silence, though it was hardly that, was intoxicating. Because now Steve was walking away, and Justin was chuckling, and Tony felt like he was suffocating.

He had to get out of here. He had to explain to Steve. He had to get to him before all of this was ruined. 

Because god Justin had that cruel, sick way of twisting words around to make things sound disgusting. He was a manipulator, and he'd gotten to Steve. He'd successfully gotten Steve away from Tony. Nobody had done that before.

Tony wanted to kill him.

--

"We can't kill him, Tony," Pepper stressed, standing in his office, hours after the gala.

He hadn't seen Steve since he walked away. The only reason he was sure he was even in the tower was because of Jarvis, but that didn't mean he wasn't getting ready to leave.

"Steve's gonna think I'm some maniac! I never said I owned him!" He shouted, "that's not even how that fucking works. I own the project, not Steve. Why the fuck would-"

"Tony the most we can do is sue him. But that's only if he can give us proof of harassment," she tried.

He slumped further back into his chair. "I'm not asking him for that right now."

She stared at him for a long beat. "Then what do you want, Tony?" She asked softly. "You need to decide now how you're going to keep him here."

"I don't know, Pep," he said, voice sounding weaker than usual.

"You can't give up on him now. You know better than to give up on a project once you've started."

"He's not just a project," he says softly.

--

His patience is fleeting, and he's starting to wonder if Steve will ever speak to him again. He sits in his lab, dressed down in his casual jeans and a T-shirt now, attempting to work but failing miserably. 

He can't help but be distracted by the memory of Steve walking away, and his guilt consumes him.

He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. "Jarvis, what time is it?"

"9:00pm, sir." Not nearly late enough, apparently.

What he really wants is a drink, but he knows that's a path he'd rather not go down tonight. The last thing he wanted was for Steve to actually, in his dreams, show up just to find him a drunken mess.

He finds himself standing near the liquor cabinet, but not opening it. He wasn't sober, but he wasn't drinking on the daily and nightly schedule like he used to. Not since the Avengers. Not since Peter.

"You aren't going to drink are you?"

The voice startles him, and he spins around, hands holding the counter behind him, pressing himself against it. 

He's shocked, because Steve is staring at him. He's watching him, like he's worried he's combust at any moment. He has his usual crease of leader concern in his eyes, but this time his eyebrows are furrowed, and his gaze is dark and hard.

"No-No. I wasn't," he manages, blinking rapidly.

"I think we should talk," Steve said, and Tony nodded slowly, following him to the couch.

The stood in front of it, neither of them making a move to sit down. Tony watched his face closely, but he couldn't get a read on him. He could never seem to do that anymore.

"Tony-"

"Steve-"

They say at the same time and then go silent, both pausing to hold their eyes closed for a calm beat. And finally, Tony sighed and let his head drop. "We suck at this, don't we?"

"Tony, what even is this?" He asked, voice sharp, making him recoil in shock. He had a nerve to look sorry for making him flinch, eyes softening around the edges.

"I don't know," he whispered. "I'm trying to understand you, Rogers, but every time I think I've finally got it right, something drags you away from me."

It's a garbage explanation and he knows it. He sounds like an idiot, and he winces at himself, unsure if Steve will even understand what the hell he just said.

But Steve folds his arms, blinking. "I didn't want to scare you away with my feelings. I didn't want you to think I was weak," he said, almost too softly.

Tony rushed to say, "I would never think that."

He seems to force a sad smile, and shakes his head. "No... I don't-I don't want to be another one of your... things. I don't want to be some experiment."

The thought is so sickening it makes Tony's stomach fucking churn. "No," he says, so harshly that Steve is forced to look at him. "You're not-You're not just some experiment to me, Steve. Steve, you're everything."

He's watching him, mouth agape and eyes wide and almost dreamy. Like he doesn't believe him.

Tony reaches out, on a whim, and grabs his hand. He squeezes it once and rubs his thumb over the back of it. 

"Tony," Steve whispers.

He purses his lips and shakes his head minutely, trying to think of something to say. Something good. Something profound. But he hadn't thought this over. He didn't think this would have to be right here. Right now. 

He was sure he'd at least have another week before any major confessions were made. 

"Tony why did he say you owned me?" Steve asks, and it's a demand he can't ignore.

"I don't," he mumbled, grimacing. "I don't own you, Steve. I have rights to the serum, and I have since Howard died. All the scientists, engineers, and businessmen in the game have wanted it. They wanted me to use the project and let them in on it, because they knew it would be a gold mine. But I just couldn't. It didn't feel right," he explained.

"And then I met you. And I fell in love with you. And I couldn't tell you that I secretly owned rights to what made you this because I didn't want you to think I was using you but," he paused for a soft sigh. "Here we are anyway, huh?'

Steve's eyes had blown wide by the time he found them again, looking at him like he didn't understand. "You... Tony, you love me?"

He couldn't even find it in him to lie anymore. "How could I not?"

And before he could gauge Steve's facial expression, his lips were crashing into Tony's. And his hand was coming up his neck and resting on the crook of it, gripping just where his hair ended. It was so forceful that it shocked an embarrassing whine out of him, as he moved into the kiss. 

When he pulled away, Tony's face was flushed and his lips were warm. He wanted more; so much more. 

But first he had to say, "what the fuck?" just for good measure.

"Just to be clear," Steve breathes, "I love you too."

"Yeah. Yeah, good," Tony nodded enthusiastically.

But now Steve was walking him over to the couch, strong hands on his hips, guiding him to sit down. Tony moved to straddle him, holding back a strong grind once he realized how hard the blonde was. Because really, that happened fast.

Steve's hold was back in his hair, holding him hard and pressing them together like he was scared they would fall apart. And god that was hot. Because Steve wanted him so, so badly. 

Tony's yearning was finally being put to some good use.

"Y'know," he gasped, once they were apart again, and Steve was moving his mouth to his neck. "I did want to own you, a little, in a different sense."

Steve hummed, biting his neck in a possessive, dark manner, that he didn't expect. He felt his jeans tighten, and suddenly he could feel Steve's length in a firmer way. Steve whimpered and bucked up against him, making him whither. 

"You like that don't you?" He teased, voice laced with darkness. "You want to be mine."

He moaned and writhed against him. "Tony," he begged, nuzzling into his neck, "please."

And god, Tony wasn't going to make it out of this lab alive.

"Alright, alright." He moved off his lap. 

Steve made an unsatisfied noise in the back of his throat at the loss of contact. Which, really, Tony didn't expect the whininess. It made him dizzy with need.

"We're taking this to my penthouse, Cap."

His lips were on his again before they even made it in the elevator.

Chapter Text

After the most mind-blowing sex he'd ever had in his life, because god bless super soldier serum, he expected to have the best night of sleep afterwards. He should've known better.

--

"You'll never be enough, Tony," his dad bit out, sharp enough to make him flinch. "Don't you get that already?"

But he didn't get it. Of course he wasn't going to get it, he was a kid. Ten years old, to be exact, and his dad already hated him.

"I'm sorry, dad," he mustered out, hoping it would be enough to fix things.

It wasn't. It never was.

Because of course, like every other time, after the apology was the bottle. Thrown straight across the room. He ducked and dodged, and it smacked into the wall behind him. Shattering.

He felt himself begin to shake.

"How are you supposed to live up to everything I need you to be, if you can't even fight back?" His father seethed, lurking over him.

Close enough to grab him. 

And he was right, Tony knew. He should be able to fight back. Even if it was his own father, someone he should be able to trust and love and care for him.

He was grabbed by the collar of his polo shirt and lifted against the wall. He felt the cold liquor on his back, from where the not-so empty bottle crashed. He felt himself shiver, that familiar sense of panic filling his body.

PTSD, his older mind supplied. But his younger body couldn't do much to help him.

He just stayed, held against his will, helpless to his father's cruel insults.

He shuddered as his own dad called him "useless" and "immature" and couple slurs he wouldn't repeat. 

He was close enough to hit him. To really, truly, hurt him. And to be honest, Tony never really was sure when he was revving up to actually do something. So he just shook his head rapidly and begged, "please, please don't-"

~

He woke up with a gasp, panting and sweating in his bed. A strong, muscular hand grabbed his bicep and he flinched away, shielding himself from the offender. He was shaking, panicking in real life now.

Because what was a nightmare without a panic attack?

"Tony?" He heard a muffled, scared voice. That wasn't his own.

He squeezed his eyes shut, willing them to go away. Because he didn't want his dad near him anymore. He didn't want to be hurt again.

"Tony, baby, please look at me," the voice continued, soothing and careful.

His breathing came out in stuttered gasps, and he swallowed as he reached out for that voice that he actually recognized this time. Someone he knew would help him. Save him.

"S-Steve," he shook his head, unable to even pry his eyes open. 

Arms enveloped around him and held him tight, but he didn't fight it this time. Because it helped. He took a deep breath and urged himself to just calm down because he was a grown man and he shouldn't be having a panic attack over a fucking nightmare like a little kid.

"Shhh," Steve murmured against his temple. "It's okay, baby. Just breathe."

And he did.

When he finally opened his eyes, he was met with a clearer view. A rising sun was shining through his curtains, giving his bedroom a soft look. His bed was mussed from his dream, and he was sitting up straight, being hugged by his very own sexy super solider.

And, surprise surprise, they were both naked.

"Sorry," he said finally, hoping he wouldn't end up crying over this whole mess.

Steve just gave him a squeeze and said softly, "don't worry about it, sweetheart. Not my first time dealing with a nightmare."

They separated just enough to make eye contact. And then he remembered how they really got into this situation in the first place. Tony helping Steve over his nightmares. Holding him and calling him sweetheart.

"I thought," he paused for breath. "I thought that maybe now that we were together I wouldn't have those anymore."

Steve's frown creased his eyebrows. "Nightmares?"

He pursed his lips minutely and shrugged, knowing in his own mind that it was a stupid thought. "I don't sleep often, especially not alone, because of them. It didn't happen with you around."

Steve seemed to give that some thought, and he hummed. "Y'know, PTSD doesn't exactly have a cure."

He wanted to roll his eyes, but he couldn't find the strength. Because really, truly and deeply, he just wanted to lay back against his strong, super soldier boyfriend's chest and be held through it.

"I didn't ruin this, did I?" He asked, quiet but not enough to not be heard.

He felt a kiss land in his hair, and he tried not to duck his head, flustered. 

"Not even close, sweetheart."

And Steve just held him.

--

Natasha shot him a wink as Steve handed him his mug in the kitchen, and he couldn't help the way he blushed and rolled his eyes. Because of course, it would be a day and the entire team would know.

Steve gave him a soft, understanding smile, and kissed him on the lips quickly. In front of the entire team. Before ducking out and going off to the gym.

His eyes immediately blew wide, and the other three Avengers stared at him open-mouthed-except Natasha of course-and waited for an answer.

Tony just huffed and said, "oh like you guys didn't already know!"

"I just had a feeling, I didn't know that was happening!" Clint yelped, gesturing wildly.

He went to turn back to his coffee, but Bruce added "I'm glad you figured it out, Tony," not impolitely.

"Just don't hurt him. Or I will hurt you," Natasha threatened, holding her butter knife at him.

He held his hands in the air, but narrowed his eyes. "Why am I getting a shovel talk. Thought I was your friend too, Natalia."

"You are," she hummed. "Don't worry, he'll be getting one too."

Tony just smirked. 

--

"I can't believe you just left me in there to deal with them alone," he complained, eyes focused on the blueprints in front of him, but his ears on the super soldier sitting on the couch.

"Had to tell them somehow," Steve replied, and Tony could hear him turning the page in his book casually.

He paused in his work, looking up and waiting for Steve to say something else. Because no matter how innocent the rest of the world painted him, Tony knew that he was a quippy little-well not really-asshole.

And as if he knew what Tony was waiting for, "and besides, you do like the attention."

A wicked idea passed through his mind. Because he finally had what he wanted.

He stood up and moved over to the couch, slowly taking the book out of Steve's hands. The blonde looked up at him curiously, raising an eyebrow. "Tony?"

"Well you are right about one thing." He glanced at the book. Natasha had apparently introduced him into the wonderful world of The Hunger Games. He smiled cheekily and tossed it to the side. "I do enjoy having attention on me."

He straddled the soldier, bringing their lips together with his hands cupping Steve's neck. Steve chuckled warmly, "what's gotten into you?"

He shrugged, feeling fuzzy and soft now that he finally had Captain America in his arms. "Just glad I finally have you, Sweetheart."

His American sweetheart.

Steve's hand found the left side of Tony's neck, just like it had in the kitchen nights ago. He rubbed his thumb up and down idly. "Well I'm glad I have you too, shellhead."

He kissed him again, wanting nothing more than to be wrapped up together forever. 

But nonetheless, nothing can really last forever.

Jarvis interrupted, "Sir, you have an alert from Karen."

He sighed against where he was kissing Steve's neck. "Is she aware she's being a cockblock right now?"

He heard Steve let out a startled laugh and he smirked against him. 

"Would you like me to tell her-"

"No, no. Just read the alert to me."

"Peter has collapsed on a rooftop."

Shocked, he accidentally nipped Steve on the neck as he pulled away. His boyfriend murmured an "ow" and he distractedly apologized, while climbing off of his lap. 

"What? Jarvis, give me his coordinates." A suit was already finding it's way around him, and Steve rose to his feet with an amused look on his face. "Sorry sweetheart. We'll have to continue this another time."

"Of course. Go get your kid."

--

He found Peter on a rooftop, as described, bleeding out. He felt his chest collapse as he took in the sight, trying not to freak out. 

"Oh kid," he whispered to himself. "What the hell have you gotten into this time?"

He had already covered the wound with a web, so at least it wasn't as bad as it could have been. He subconsciously felt the urge already to lecture the kid, but he also knew better than that by now. 

Because a rooftop was better than an alleyway. And a spiderweb was better than nothing.

He took his mask off and lifted him into his arms, instantly cursing at how light and weak he felt. There were beads of sweat lining his forehead, and as they flew to the tower his eyes slowly blinked open.

"Mr-Mr Stark," he coughed.

His heart clenched. "Save your voice, kiddo," he murmured. "It's okay."

"But I-I promise I did good. I didn't know they would-they would have-" he cut himself off with more coughing. 

Tony grimaced, "stop talking, Peter."

--

Peter passed out once they took his suit off and laid him down. In nothing but his boxers, he laid covered by only a hospital blanket. They stitched him up while he slept, and he was hooked up to an IV just to get some nutrients in him to help with the blood loss.

Tony wanted to leave and get him more blankets, or a stuffed animal, or something but he couldn't find the strength to leave his side.

He knew, objectively, that he was okay. He only passed out from the blood loss. And once he woke up he'd be able to be discharged immediately. But he still couldn't help the concern that filled him when he looked at his kid.

"Tony?"

He looked up sharply, finding Steve entering the room with a worried frown.

He was on his feet immediately, crossing the room and crashing into him. Steve hugged him tightly, rubbing his back in slow circles.

"You feel weak, Tony. When was the last time you ate?" He asked as they pulled apart, Steve keeping a hand wrapped around his bicep. 

He just shook his head. He couldn't remember how long he'd been in the room, but it was getting darker outside. May Parker would be off work soon, and then she'd be here. Probably yelling at him.

He shuddered at the thought. And thinking he was cold, Steve looped his arm around his shoulders and squeezed. "Let me bring you some food. And then I'll wait with you, okay?"

He took a deep breath and nodded, knowing better than to argue. "Yeah. Okay."

--

Steve returned quickly with saltine crackers, a sweet tea, baby carrots, and a small side of ranch. 

Tony raised an eyebrow at the strange meal. He must've rushed to grab the first few things he could find in the kitchen. 

"Is this what super soldiers eat after a harrowing mission?" He teased.

"No, this is what we eat during the harrowing mission. After the mission our rich boyfriends take us out to dinner." He smirked.

A few ideas drummed through his mind.

"You want me to take you to dinner," he concluded with an accusatory finger.

Steve shrugged easily, "maybe. I was going to mention it earlier. Us actually going out and things... but you were a little busy."

Tony's eyes found Peter's sleeping form. So innocent and small in that stupid hospital bed. Steve's hand took his and squeezed.

"Hey, he's gonna be okay. He's a strong kid."

"Yeah," Tony said distantly, willing that to get rid of his worries. "He is."

--

May Parker showed up, once the sun had disappeared, and instead of yelling at Tony-as expected-she pulled him into a hug.

Steve stood behind them, hands crossed against his back formally, waiting for them to disperse. And then she hugged him too.

"Oh Tony," she sighed, cupping his face aggressively. "Thank you for saving him."

He held her wrists as her hands left his face and responded, "of course, May. I wouldn't just leave him."

"Oh I know," she smiled. "You love that boy as much as I do."

But she was moving to hover over his bed before he could form a response. She kissed Peter's cheek, looked at his vitals for a good minute, and then turned back to Tony. 

"So where is the fancy room I'll be staying in?"

She was both less mad and less worried than Tony expected of her. But when he asked, on their way to the guest rooms, she just explained, "I've seen Peter in the hospital many times. He's been through so much and it just... It never really gets easier. But I know what signs to look for. And he looks okay.

Besides, none of us will be any help to him if we freak ourselves out."

And hell, didn't Tony understand that.

--

He woke up in Steve's arms, realizing with a shock that he'd fallen asleep in the hospital room. They were sitting on the couch together, and he blinked blearily at him. 

"You let me fall asleep," he chided, hitting his arm politely.

Steve just smiled and kissed his head. "You looked peaceful. Besides, you needed it. You're lucky I didn't force you to go shower."

Tony rolled his eyes and pried his arms out of Steve's hold so he could stretch. But he fell back in just seconds later, melting comfortably into the touch.

Steve kissed his temple and murmured an "I love you," which just made Tony explode inside.

Even though they said it the other night, when they also first had sex, it still hit him all over again. "I love you too," he replied, burying his face into the crook of his neck.

He was sure Steve had something cheesy to say after that, but he didn't. Instead, Tony head, "ew. Don't do that in my hospital room."

Tony ripped his head up immediately. "Peter!"

Peter was awake, grinning at him cheekily. "Hey Mr Stark," he croaked.

But Tony was already standing and shushing him, grabbing a cup of water and shoving the straw into his mouth. Peter sipped at it, glaring at his worried mentor. Before saying, "geez, missed you too."

Tony frowned sadly, "you really scared me, kiddo."

Peter started twiddling his thumbs nervously. "I know. I'm sorry. I really tried not to-"

"I know, Pete. I watched the suit footage." Even though it was damaged, but he didn't say that part.

Peter fled the scene the second he saw people he shouldn't be messing with. But that didn't stop him from grazing a bullet on his left side.

"Daredevil can handle that guy, I'm sure," Tony continued. "I'm just glad you're safe."

"But you're also grounded for a week."

"Dad!" Peter whined, glaring at him. But Tony was too short-circuited to notice, he blinked down at his kid, who had just called him dad for the first time.

From the chair, he heard Steve smile and note, "I think you broke him, Peter."

And Peter leaned around his dad to wave at him. "Hi Mr Rogers!"

Tony was hugging the kid before Steve could even reply. Pulling him in tight and kissing his hair about fifty times. 

"Geez, dad," Peter squeaked. "Real emotional today."

"Shut up, kid."

--

"You're sweet with him," Steve said as he towel-dried his hair in the mirror. "Peter," he then added, as if Tony didn't understand.

Tony looked up from the mirror and raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

"It's cute," he continued, rising from the bed and making his way into the bathroom. He looped his arms around Tony's waist from behind, kissing his cheek.

Tony laughed, and shook his head.

He found them, not even two days into their relationship, to be a very tactile couple. It was like they couldn't live without touching each other every hour. 

Tony was so in love with it.

With him.

"You're clingy, y'know," Tony remarked, smirking up at him.

He shrugged against him, "guess I'm just glad I finally have you," he repeated his words from earlier.

Tony couldn't agree more.

He finished his nightly routine and climbed into bed with the super soldier, both of them laying on their sides to face each other. 

"After you left for your shower, Peter gave me a very enthusiastic shovel talk," Steve said, beaming at him.

Taken aback, he blinked at him. "He what now?"

"He sounded very serious too. Said he'd web me to a chainsaw."

"I'm sure he's kidding."

Steve shrugged, and Tony sighed, moving so they could lay closer.

He ended up wrapped in the man's arms again, held close and tight, hidden away from anything possibly bad in the world.

"Goodnight, Tony," Steve whispered. "I love you."

Tony nuzzled him softly and closed his eyes.

"G'night. Love you too."