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The fear ran through Steve’s veins like ice. The wind picked up, balmy spring air that rifled through his air. If he looked up he’d have seen the moon hanging heavy and full in the air, the stars visible for once in the polluted city air, but he was far more interested in the man on the other side of the roof.
Bruce had his back to Steve, one hand lightly resting on the ledge of the building. Steve could pick out the idle run of Bruce’s fingers over the cement, the way the breeze picked at those dense curls atop his head. The moon cast pale shadows over them, hiding half of Bruce in darkness. It was haunting, and Steve wished he had the time to sketch it. Especially since he knew there was every chance that he wouldn’t be able to get close enough to render the other man onto paper again after tonight.
It would be easy to slip back into the Tower. To pretend he hadn’t been seeking out the good doctor. To continue to dance around him trying to keep his feelings tamped down and hidden under a neutral blanket of professionalism. He wouldn’t have to consider a life without Bruce intrinsically twined through it, but the easy path had never been tolerable to Steve and this was certainly not the exception.
He took one measured step, and then another until only a scant few feet stood between the two of them. Though he was sure that Bruce had heard his approach, Steve waved a hand awkwardly and let out a hoarse, “Hey.”
He tried not to fidget, and fought not to bite his lip. He couldn’t help but notice the minute motion of Bruce’s hands on the rough cement of the ledge before he turned. In the moment before Bruce replied, Steve could pick out the furrows of worry across his face, the wariness in his eyes. A bolt of indecision at his chosen course burned through Steve for a moment before melting away when Bruce smiled and replied.
“Hey there Steve.”
He resisted the urge to shove his hands in his pockets and rock back on his heels. Somehow, somewhere along the way Bruce had gained the ability to do him in with nothing more than a smile or a wicked glint of the eye. He was in over his head, whether he told Bruce or not. But he’d come this far, and his mother hadn’t raised a coward.
He’d initially spent weeks agonising over whether or not he should have sought Bruce out at all. Trying to come up with what to say, or how to say it. In the end he’d realized he had no option but to speak his mind. There was the oh so slight chance that Bruce wouldn’t rebuke him. The barest glimmering mirage of more. More than the friendship that had sprung up between them pleasantly unexpected.
There were so many ‘ifs’ lying between them. So many reactions to the conversation he’d come here to strike up. There was always the chance that when he confessed, Bruce’s eyes would go hard and flinty. He’d seen it plenty when he was younger. Men and women alike, turned out by friend and family unfeeling. Although he knew intellectually that things were different than they had been when he was younger, it was still a fear that lurked just under the surface.
“I-I just wanted to talk to you about something.” Steve could hear the hesitance in his voice, so different from the commanding tone he owned on the field of battle.
Bruce’s smile didn’t fade, but Steve could see the shift in his eyes. Uncertainty, and if he didn’t know better, fear appearing where there had been none. Tension making his shoulders stiffen in response. Steve could feel the fear start to bleat in his ears.
“What did you want to discuss?” Bruce’s voice was quiet, almost bland. Deflection at it’s very best. Like the calm before the storm. Steve could feel his heart jump into his throat, but pushed past it meeting Bruce’s eyes.
“Bruce I-I have feelings for you.”
This time Steve did bite his lip, some of his uncertainty bleeding to the surface. From here, one way or another things would be different, and he knew it. Of all of the members on the team, he’d always gotten along easiest with Bruce. Losing that would be painful beyond measure, but pretending that he wasn’t feeling what he was, was just as hurtful in a different manner.
Steve watched the realisation of his words bloom in Bruce’s eyes. Honey brown eyes widening as he processed the words, confusion foreign and unfamiliar in his eyes. Steve managed not to take a step backwards, to instead stand by his words. He could feel it as he squared his shoulders, as though he was walking onto the battlefield.
Perhaps in a manner of speaking, he was.
“Steve, I-” Bruce clamped his mouth shut, lips pressing into a thin line. “I’m not sure what you want me to say.” He met Steve’s eyes again, clear once more. But Steve could see the calculation, the focus lurking there. He fought not to grit his teeth.
“Well, an answer one way or the other would be swell.” Steve optioned up, voice far calmer than he felt.
Thankfully enough time spent with Tony had given him the ability to at least spar verbally. Eyes still cued in to the minutiae of Bruce, he took a fluid step forward. He was still in neutral territory, but almost within the sphere of the scientist’s personal space.
His eye caught the flicker of Bruce’s eyes, the way his weight shifted before his jaw relaxed a bit. Steve kept his eyes pinned to Bruce’s, trying to pick up every nonverbal cue he’d ever figured out to try to navigate these muddied waters.
“Steve...” Bruce’s voice was rough this time, and trailed off almost uncertainly. Steve took another small step forward, so close he could have reached out to cup the other man’s face in his hand.
“I’m not... I’m not trying to push you,” Steve answered honestly, every inch of him on edge as he tried to imbue his words with the emotions driving them forward. “But Bruce... I feel like we’re dancing around one another, pretending like there isn’t something between us. If I’m wrong, then tell me and I’ll back off. But if I’m not...” He trailed off, nearly holding his breath.
A pained expression broke across Bruce’s face and he looked down and away for a moment. His face turned towards the city in profile to Steve, gaze darting across the horizon. “You don’t know what you’re asking, Steve.”
It was nearly heartbreaking, the forced calm Bruce had etched into those words. His voice rough around the edges, sad and level. Though he tried to hide it, there was pain in his eyes too for those who cared to look. Steve caught every second of it, seared onto his memory indelibly.
“I’m asking... if you care about me... the way I do for you.” Steve’s voice was quieter now, trying to keep it level, trying not to let Bruce know about the growing tightness in his chest trying to smother his words before they breached his lips. “Bruce I can’t-I can’t pretend that I don’t light up when I see you. That I don’t want to reach out-” He bit his lip, taking another half step in. “I just-I’m not like... other people and you get it. You get my jokes. You’re brilliant and kind and so much better than you even know, and if you’ll give me a chance... I want to show you all of that, but I can’t... I can’t move forward one way or the other... until you talk to me.”
Steve shook his head, closing his eyes and only reopening them when his gaze was directed at his shoes. He could feel the tremble at his fingertips, but he steeled his nerves and looked back to the man in front of him.
“It’s more complicated than that. I’m not who you think I am.” Bruce shook his head, breaking eye contact for a moment before he continued, “Steve you deserve someone... more than I am. I’m not what you actually want or need.”
His honey eyes shone, begging Steve to understand what he was saying. As it was, Steve barely managed to listen to the words Bruce dropped in front of him without staggering as though wounded. He’d known that the chance Bruce would feel the same was slim, but he hadn’t prepared to feel like he’d just been hit in the chest with a sledge hammer.
As the pain suffused him, the anger started to boil and his eyes flashed. Bruce hadn’t said he didn’t want Steve. In fact, he had said just the opposite, trying to convince Steve that Bruce wasn’t what he wanted.
“That’s not going to work with me Bruce.” He could still feel the anger at the deflection and the hurt brewing within him, but he pushed forward another half step. The line of Steve’s body was nearly flush with Bruce, so close that he could have brushed the other man’s clothing with a twitch of his finger.
“You’re not going to convince me that I don’t want you,” he continued with with a slight smile. “It’s not up to you. It’s not even really up to me. I just looked up one day, and there you were... and I realized you were always there... and I never wanted to change that.”
Steve reached one hand out incrementally, his thumb rubbing lightly over Bruce’s knuckles. He wasn’t sure how to move forward, but he was realising inch by inch that the other man had neither pulled back, nor argued as Steve had moved into his space. It was a small favor, but all things considered, he’d take it.
Bruce’s eyes were cloudy, as though he was fighting with himself over something. They were so close Steve could nearly feel the beat of his pulse, hear what he was thinking. Like it always did when they were in close quarters and by themselves, heat started to churn inside of Steve. As though being this close to Bruce warmed him from the inside out.
“I’d ruin you,” Bruce murmured softly, eyes more tender than they had been. “You think I won’t but you don’t- you don’t know.” He pressed his lips close again firmly.
“Don’t you think I should be able to make that decision for myself?” Steve murmured back, reigning himself in. “I’m tougher than I look.” He trailed off almost helplessly. Unwilling to push the last step into Bruce’s space, unable to pull himself back from this precipice he was about to tip over. Bruce licked his lips, eyes still shining bright in the moonlight.
“I’m not denying that but-”
“Do you just not want me Bruce... because that’s okay. I’m a big boy; I can take it.”
Bruce let out a choked laugh that sounded more like a sob and stepped back from Steve, turning as he did so. The silhouette of his shoulders shaking in the darkness.
“Of course I want you Steve.” Bruce’s voice was quiet in the darkness, but Steve was at a loss, unable to read Bruce as the man faced away from him. “Who wouldn’t? But...”
“But?” Steve prodded gently, closing the distance between himself and Bruce again.
“I’ll be no good for you. I’m old, and broken and the things I’ve done-”
“I don’t care about any of that,” Steve replied simply, words out of his mouth before he could stop them. His left hand reached out resting gently against the back of Bruce’s shoulder. “I care about the man I’ve seen, and fought next to, and lived with for the last year.” Steve’s voice was quiet and urgent.
“It’ll go wrong,” Bruce tried to insist weakly, still not facing Steve.
“Tell me to leave, and I will.” He replied again, simply.
“....I don’t want you to leave.” His voice had gone rough, and low as though the words were being dragged ruthlessly from within him.
“Turn around?” Steve asked, voice still quiet and so very, very uncertain.
Bruce did, his eyes meeting Steve’s. For once, he didn’t try to ferret out the emotions stirring within Bruce. He could have done it without trouble, easily separated the way Bruce held himself, and the light in his eyes. He’d spent months doing it while he sketched him over and over again.
“All I’m asking for is a chance,” Steve murmured. “Just give me a chance. If it goes wrong, if you’re not okay with it... we’ll stop. We’ll figure it out, but I can’t pretend there isn’t something here and I don’t think you can either.” Steve’s eyes fluttered down for a moment before he pressed in for a kiss.
It was a gamble, truth be told, one he normally wouldn’t have taken, but Bruce had never actually rebuked him. Instead he’d just kept delaying or trying to hide his tracks. If Steve crossed the line, he’d know and pay for it in one way or another, but it was a risk he had to take, if this was the only time he’d get to kiss Bruce then by god he was going to make it a kiss worth remembering.
His hands moved up Bruce’s arms, one resting on his shoulder the other cupping the side of his face gently. There was a split second where Bruce could have stopped him, or stepped back, or anything, but he didn’t. To the contrary he leaned into it just barely. Their lips met, moving against one another.
Bruce’s arms wound around him, pulling him closer as Steve melted into the kiss. Their tongues tangled, and separated only to repeat the process. Steve pulled back, eyes dazed and heart beating out a fast rhythm in his chest. Though he’d broken the kiss, he didn’t try to separate himself from Bruce.
He wasn’t sure where to go from here, or how to proceed. Steve hadn’t really dated when he was younger, and he’d never really just had passing fancies anyway. If he cared for someone, it seemed to bloom slowly and over time as he got to know them more and more. He wanted so badly to believe that he and Bruce could be something. He hadn’t felt like this in a very long time, and it was maddening.
“We’ll try.” Bruce’s voice broke Steve’s thoughts, soft and gentle. “No promises, but... we can try.”
Steve could feel his heart skip a beat, the tightness in his chest loosening for the first time since he’d walked out onto the roof. The thought of being able to touch Bruce without fear, to let him see when he watched him, it was something beyond hope or dream or reason, and he couldn’t quite explain it.
“If you’re sure.” Steve’s voice was still cautious. Afraid Bruce would take this final out and push him away. 19 years of being the scrawny guy did not wipe away easily, he’d found.
Bruce laughed lightly. “Yes Steve, I’m sure.”
Steve could feel the smile pull across his lips, echoed in Bruce’s eyes. Bruce leaned back up and pressed in for another kiss, more chaste this time, filled with the promise of more to come. They pulled apart again, and Steve looked down his nose, unable to keep the grin off his face. Of all the possible outcomes, this had been the one he’d most hoped for and yet had been convinced couldn’t possibly come to pass.