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Steve had the kind of luck where the next planet they visited to refuel their shiny borrowed spaceship had rather peculiar social customs. The kind that ended with Steve having to kiss on the mouth with each of his teammates, because that's how you showed trust on Alpha-Zeta, and who were they to screw up a potential alliance?
Natasha stayed by his side as they watched the liftoff through the large wide-screen windows of the spacecraft, and her presence comforted Steve. They were leaving the alien planet with enough fuel to get to Earth, a signed treaty of cooperation, and, if one looked at it rationally, only a slight dint in pride. Still, Steve was reluctant to turn away from the windows and go into the innards of the ship where the rest of their teammates congregated.
"You'll stand here and brood all the way to Earth?" Natasha asked archly. "What's that gonna help?"
"I've apologized—"
"You never had to apologize," Natasha interrupted in a mild tone as they strode down the metal corridors of the spaceship. "It wasn't your preference. We all did what we were forced to, by the circumstances." She smiled a little. "C'mon, a kiss from Captain America is not so terrible."
"I'm glad you think so," Steve said wryly. A tightness in his chest did ease however: she seemed okay. Maybe they could get past it. Thor had said it was okay. Clint was never letting him live it down.
"Are you alright with it?" she asked, because Natasha never could let it lie.
"I'm fine. We're not discussing this now." He turned to stride back to the auxiliary control room, and she fell into step with him smoothly.
"Yes, because if we were, we'd have to talk about Tony," she said.
"Nat."
"About how you closed your eyes kissing him." Natasha smiled.
Steve ran a weary hand through his hair and tried to walk faster. Despite the controlled nature of the gesture, his heart beat rapidly. He'd screwed up. He'd gone into it telling himself not to do anything stupid, not to act any different when Tony's turn came, and he'd screwed it up.
"They say when you close your eyes for a kiss it's—"
"I know!"
Natasha's smug little smile fell. She regarded him with a considering, long stare.
"I know," Steve repeated, quietly. "Can we please drop this."
She didn't reply, because they finally entered the auxiliary control room, a space the size of a large living room. Clint was playing with his high-tech bow and arrows where he sat in the high-back leather chair, swirling side-to side on the chair's one leg. He spun around to greet them, feet scraping the floor, looking for all the world like a mischievous kid. "Yo." Clint gave a bored and sloppy salute. Thor was up top on the other level of the ship, on the bridge, looking after the ship's course, while Steve and Natasha had made the rounds to make sure there were no stragglers on-board. Tony was down in engineering to check on the engines' function. They'd left the planet in swift order, under the circumstances. Nobody had wanted to hang around to find out what other customs the Elders had.
It had been enough that apparently kissing on the mouth was a show of trust around their parts. And Captain America had wanted to prove he had the trust of his comrades at arms, hadn't he? If Steve wanted the Elders to put their signatures next to his, as an Earth's representative, he had to be worthy of their trust. And so they'd had no choice but to show the aliens that his teammates trusted him. It would have been funny, to Steve, the same as Natasha, the same as Clint and Thor, if only it hadn't rapidly turned serious.
Steve tried to push aside his thoughts but they swirled turbulently around the last memory. The way Tony had glared at him, as if holding him personally responsible. The way his mouth had felt against Steve's, warm and so startlingly soft. Tony's shaking breath against his lips.
God. Steve was never going to forget it. How was he supposed to look Tony in the face ever again?
He realized he was touching his fingertips to his mouth, lightly brushing his lower lip, lost in thought. Anyone watching him would know exactly what was going through his mind. Nervously, he snapped his fingers down to the controls on the dashboard, not really seeing the images on the complicated-looking screens. It was all scientific equipment, not really his forte. The screens were for measuring all sorts signals out in space or on the planet's surface. Tony would probably be able to read them. He had looked so excited when he first saw the ship's controls.
As if called forth by his thoughts, the entrance door swooshed open to the sound of a familiar gate. Steve squeezed one of the levers too hard, feeling Tony's approach like a storm bearing down on him with an irresistible force. He forced his fingers to relax before the metal made a sound and turned his face toward the new arrival at the entrance to the control room.
Clint made kissy faces at Tony when he came into the room. Automatically, Steve's eyes snapped over to watch Tony's face for his reaction, but before he could fully decipher the expression on Tony's face, Steve made himself turn away again. There Clint was, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched Tony.
Tony had looked uncomfortable, and a pit in Steve's stomach grew. It was on him to fix this, and he had no idea where to start. It was even worse if the others teased Tony about something he'd been forced to do with Steve. Back on the alien planet, Steve had stumbled through a "sorry" — he was their leader and it was—it was some sort of sexual harassment wasn't it? It was so unprofessional — and Tony had just told him to shut up about it. Tony had straightened his back and waved him closer with a 'let's do it, then', and a sort of resignation in his voice.
"Clint," Steve said, heart in his throat when the archer turned that mildly mocking glare on him, while he cast about for a change of topic. He made his voice like steel. "What's the status of the cargo?"
Clint shrugged.
Natasha leaped off the control panel she'd perched on. "We should go check on that." She motioned with a head-tilt to Clint. He rolled his eyes, but rose to follow her out the door. Steve didn't have any time to ask them to wait, to not leave him alone with Tony, and then it was too late, anyway. He felt like the room had no air, which was a really bad head-trip when they were flying through the darkness of space in what was essentially a tin can.
Steve squared his shoulders, and turned to watch the dark space outside the spaceship. Tony still hadn't said anything. He came to stand next to Steve, eyes focused on the various levers and buttons before them. But he had come closer. That had to mean something, didn't it?
Steve wasn't going to say anything, but the oppressive silence in the room had become almost physically painful, especially since Tony never typically lacked for words. It felt as if by staying silent he was punishing Steve. But that was a ridiculous thought. Tony stood practically shoulder to shoulder with Steve now, and fiddled with something on the digital screen in front, seemingly intensely occupied.
"Tony," Steve started, for lack of anything better to say.
"It should be funny. Some aliens wanted us to make out," Tony said, still not looking at him. Was that discomfort? Had it been so horrible? It was just a kiss. Steve was all twisted up because it had been hard to kiss Tony and try to act afterward like it meant nothing. But in the end, it was just a kiss, no matter how minutes, days seemed to pass before he pulled away from it. Only to see the close up of Tony's eyes sliding open. To see him flinch back, and move away as if burned. And now he wouldn't look at Steve.
"I know that," Steve snapped, trying to contain the spark of anger that they were always doing this dance. That they could never talk to each other — it was always some flitting gestures here and there that he had to interpret, to get it right, and fail at, over and over again. "We had no choice. None of us. If we wanted their help, we had to prove we were trustworthy according to their customs."
"You've been reciting that, have you?" Tony said gruffly. He wasn't still stuck over the feeling of warm lips against his! But Steve felt the touch like an imprint on his skin, from the bristles of the beard that felt softer than they had any right to, to the warm weight of an arm at the back of his neck, tilting his head a bit to the side. Just so. With his heart-rate spiking at the memory, he couldn't get past it.
"I just—" the anger fought with embarrassment and hurt, and hurt won. "I know you hated it, but I hope— I hope it won't be a setback—" His heart dropped again when Tony laughed.
"A setback," Tony repeated with another short chortle, turning his face away completely. Like he couldn't stand the sight of him.
Having spent a good half of his life being laughed at, Steve had had more than enough. He pushed away from the console. "Okay, fine." He had to get out of here. "I'll be on the bridge—"
"No, wait—" In a few long strides, Steve was already almost to the door when he glanced back. His eyes locked with Tony's and he hadn't been ready for that at all. "Wait," Tony rasped out.
"What is it?" Steve demanded, and wished he didn't notice all the little tells, the way Tony didn't look angry. He looked nervous. Steve's hackles came down, slowly, while Tony glanced to the side for a brief moment, as if gathering himself, and then locked eyes with him again. The look in his eyes was uncomfortably vulnerable.
"We promised we'd be honest," Tony said, voice low as if it was difficult to talk. "After...everything, when we shook on it, we promised we'd communicate better." Steve's heart began to hammer in his chest again, as he quickly guessed the direction of the words. "We promised not to hide things from each other and that we— We'd listen more, right? That's the only way this," Tony waved a hand at the space between them, "can work."
"Yeah," Steve said, and with a glance towards the exit and his escape, abandoned that plan, stepping back into the room. Tony was right. After the Avengers had eked out a victory by the skin of their teeth, the two of them had set some ground rules. How they were going to act with each other, going forward. Honesty and trust had to be at the foundation, otherwise they simply didn't work. Now, Tony was staring at him with expectation clear in his eyes. Without thinking, Steve took another step closer, until he was back in the middle of the room, watching Tony, who was still leaning against the console by the window. They were passing Jupiter's rings, and the backdrop of the gas giant was spectacular, but Steve had eyes for one thing only.
"No conflict escalation. 'I feel' statements and all that," Tony said with a stressed little tight-lipped smile. "We could try that now."
Steve nodded. "Yeah, okay." They had to put this behind them. He didn't think the psychological tricks like saying 'I' instead of 'you' would help, but Tony swore they were recommended by professionals and really, they couldn't make things between them more difficult. They owed it to themselves to at least try.
They looked at each other.
"You first," Steve said, fingers unconsciously squeezing the leather of the chair until it creaked.
Tony gave a huff, and his eyes rolled a little. "Fine," he growled. "I feel... frustrated."
"Okay," Steve said, and his voice came out small. He swallowed, nodded for Tony to continue. The theory went that one person said how they felt and the other listened, fully and completely.
"I..." Tony glared at him, kicking up Steve's heartbeat another notch. "Fuck. This is hell." Tony laughed, strangely, took a deep calming breath. "Okay. Okay. I feel — like every time things get better with— with us, something like this happens and we spend the next month walking on eggshells around each other. I don't like it. I hate it, Steve."
The use of the first name. Steve pinned his hopes on that. It meant Tony wasn't mad. He'd have used 'Cap' or 'Rogers'. It meant he wanted to work with Steve, to get through this together.
"Yeah. That's... I agree." Steve said awkwardly.
"So..." Tony prompted, and the clear expectation made Steve wish he was better at this part, even if he didn't think it would work. He was sure nobody really needed to know how Steve felt, so the point was moot.
"What do you want me to say? It's not as if I had this in mind when we landed on that planet."
Tony crossed his arms on his chest. Then he rethought it, and with a controlled movement pulled his hands back down to the console he was leaning back against, gripping the edge of it tightly at each side. The entirety of Tony's focus was on Steve.
"I want us to— To deal with it," Tony said.
"I'm dealing with it," Steve barked, feeling like he couldn't be sure of his footing. "This was a field situation. I—We did what we had to do."
"We could have told the aliens to fuck off," Tony said. "The worst they would have done would be send their soldiers after us. The team could handle it. After everything we've been through together?" He snapped his fingers. "Easy."
"We couldn't risk losing their alliance," Steve insisted — the words he'd been reciting in his head for the past hour.
"Okay," Tony said heavily, and the sudden despairing note in his voice set Steve aback. Steve stared at the other man, surprised, when Tony went on, "And is that all you have to say? Is that—" he swallowed and tilted his chin up. His voice came laced with a sense of wonder. "You really can't do this, can you."
The feelings. Steve thought about the I-statements with near hatred. How was he supposed to phrase what was inside him neatly, so Tony could understand? It was a mess, inside his chest, all knotted up. He felt so many things, none of them easy.
Tony brought his hand up to his brow, rubbed it as if he had a sudden headache. "I feel like I'm alone in this," he said, looking at the floor, and Steve's heart just about broke. He made an aborted move forward, instantly realized his attempt to soothe wouldn't be welcome, and stopped. Stood rooted to the floor until Tony lifted his face again, and opened his mouth to speak—
"I feel the same," Steve said softly.
Startled, Tony tilted his head minutely as if studying him. "About the kiss— I hated how it made me feel," he said, and before Steve could process this — his brain simply refused, as some sort of a self-defense scheme — Tony repeated, "How it made me feel like everything's torn open again, when it just scabbed over. It—" he started and then didn't continue. He sighed.
"I..." Steve started, took another step closer, took a breath, pushed the words past his lips: "I feel the same."
Tony's eyes widened a touch. He cleared his throat, and then, fierce in a way that Steve could never stop admiring whenever it happened, admitted, "And the kissing was very much not funny. Because—Because I wanted it to be real." Steve blinked, and blinked again, processing this leap of faith, realizing his mouth opened to speak, helpless against the truth crowding his throat, when Tony hurried to assure him, "No, you don't have to." He tried to smile.
Steve shook his head against the flustered words. They weren't backtracking. That would be a setback.
"Tony," he whispered. Tony shut up, and the false smile slid off his lips as he watched, wide-eyed as Steve came closer. "I wasn't laughing."
"Yeah?" Tony said, and now he stepped closer too, starting to look hopeful again. So they stood with half a foot between them, Tony's head tilted back to look at him. Steve itched to lift his hands to put them on Tony's shoulders, his arms, his hips.
"Yeah." He nodded.
With quicksilver speed, Tony moved forward and pressed his lips quietly to the corner of Steve's mouth. It wasn't even on the lips, but just to the side. All of Steve's stomach muscles tightened, his hands twitched uselessly at his sides as he held himself desperately still. Afterward Tony paused an inch away from Steve's skin, with his eyes looking up directly into Steve's and said nonsensically, "Now we're even." Tony's lips jerked into an uncertain grin.
Steve's heart seized seeing that nervous twitch of lips. At that gesture of trust, because Tony had let him see inside, for a glimpse.
Steve steeled himself. He had to be honest. "It was real. For me."
Tony's breath was shaky against his, but he wasn't backing off. "I feel the same."
When Steve put a hand around his waist, going slow, telegraphing all his movements, Tony's eyes sparkled with that breathless courage that Steve could never walk away from. Let's go, they seemed to tell him, let's do this! Now, now's finally our time.
So he pulled Tony to himself, pressed right up against his lithe body. Tony's hand landed on the sides of his face, holding him, one thumb sliding over the bristles of his five-o'clock shadow. Steve had a momentary thought about talking this out. They really had to talk. But as soon as he had Tony in his arms, it was as if his brain went offline. He didn't want to explain, he just wanted to touch, to feel.
This time he was certainly keeping his eyes open, to see all of Tony's little reactions when they kissed again.
There was the little sigh right before the kiss. Could it be so familiar at only the second time their lips touched? Steve felt the cherished knowing of it settle quietly in his chest. Tony's slitted eyes, pupils blown wide regarded him through thick eyelashes, welcoming his mouth to explore. There was the bristles of his beard brushing Steve's chin, again, just like the last time. There was that little hitched noise Tony made as they kissed. A shudder wracked Steve: that was massively hot. There was the way Tony's mouth moved against his, opening to let Steve in. Tony was never a passive participant in the kiss. He kissed back eagerly, this time not hiding the passion behind the facade of having to do it. No, they were both choosing to kiss each other. And hell, Steve had wanted it forever, wanted it to be just like this, sweet and a little bit desperate.
By the time the kiss broke so they could catch some air, Steve was opening his eyes again. He hadn't even realized they'd slipped shut, as he sunk into the feeling of having Tony so intimately close.
Now, Tony's eyes were regarding him, warmly amused.
"That okay?" Tony murmured.
"Yeah."
"Wanna go again?" Tony swallowed with a click of his throat.
"Yeah," Steve said, and pushed him back against the console, following with his body.
They ended up kissing with mouths mushed up against one another, over-eager, Tony's hands in Steve's hair as he sighed breathless noises of delight against Steve's lips.
Then he made a noise that was decidedly less pleased, making Steve pause.
"Ow," Tony winced, and edged to the side, "a lever is digging into my back."
Steve pushed away to give them space to back up, though not far enough away that he had to stop hugging Tony to himself by the waist. They looked at the offending knob on the console, and all the jagged edges. It didn't look like a great spot to continue the make-out session. And Steve was certain they should continue it.
He cast about the room with a strategic glance, and saw a better location for it. "The chair." He pulled Tony after him and then quickly pushed him to sit down. Tony laughed at the bit of manhandling, but his laughter cut off when Steve dropped down to his knees between Tony's legs, his palms flat on top of Tony's thighs. Like this, Steve had to stretch and tilt his head up to reach him, and he leaned forward eagerly. Tony's eyes turned molten with desire, his gaze seemed to swallow Steve whole. He pulled Steve to himself, making him sprawl across Tony's chest and stomach, and they kissed again.
They kissed and kissed, and afterward, Steve pressed kisses to the side of Tony's mouth, like Tony had done to him, feeling the curve of a smile there, trailing kisses to his hairline and temple. Steve nuzzled his ear, kissed him where the earlobe met the strong line of the jaw. Tony made a gasping noise and slid lower in the chair, letting his thighs fall open more so that Steve could get even closer.
"Would you look at that?" came the wonder in Tony's voice, interrupting another intense kiss. It took a moment for Steve to even process the words, and when he leaned back to look at Tony, the other man was staring past him, out the spacecraft's windows, his face stricken with wonder.
Really, Steve was thinking, before he twisted around to look. And sure, he'd been to other planets, visited multiple alien civilizations on their way back from saving the Universe, but there was something about the sight that greeted him, that took his breath away. Earth shone like a bright jewel, with the sun off to the side, lighting up their home. I get to see that, he thought, and: that's amazing. He turned to Tony, expecting to see him still looking out at the spectacular view, but Tony was looking at him. His look was no less enraptured, eyes bottomless dark. Steve felt as if he could see the light of their sun reflected in their depths.
"I'd like to do this right," Tony said, and brushed a hand through Steve's hair, ruffling it fondly. "Out here, in space, anything is possible. But back home," an incredible affection stealthed into his eyes, and he didn't look afraid, he looked like he could see their future so clearly, "everything is a little more real."
"I like real. I'd like..." Steve said, and felt Tony's open palm settle against his cheek, quietly, as if encouraging him to speak, "I'd like to take you out on dates. Real dates," he clarified, when Tony smirked a little and wiggled closer, pushing up into Steve with his body. Steve cleared his throat, turned on, despite his resolve to stay strong in the face of such blatant teasing. "I'd like it if our first date was in New York. Where it all started."
Tony wrapped his arms around Steve's neck, making a soft sound of agreement. Like this, with Steve kneeling between his legs, Steve's eyes were at a level with Tony's nose.
"Not long now," Tony said, glancing over Steve's shoulder to the approaching Earth. The planet would be only a globe in their view window, but Tony pressed his cheek to Steve's brow and joked, "I think I can see home from here."
Steve gathered him closer in his arms. Smiled when their eyes met. "I think I can, too."
Fin.