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"What is the point of having a luxury refrigerator that doesn't have an ice dispenser?" Tony groaned, hands trembling.
Tony was thankful for, yet disappointed in, the lack of presence in the Avenger's headquarters. Initially, the Avenger’s tower gave him a way to actually know where everyone was , and slowly became this.. pillar for everyone to come back to. (Even if he could never get comfortable in his own bed.)
The tower was somewhere they could all be themselves. Nat and Clint made mundane patrols into competitions, Banner and Tony would talk about ways to improve their gear, and then Hulk and Thor would arm wrestle while they waited for said gear. Sometimes, Sam and Rhodey passed by for detailing on their suits, or Fury would drop by to do his routine check in. And when the noise settled, Tony would try to go back down to his lab, and Steve would come down and drag him out to make him eat or watch a movie or something non-mechanic.
It was a comfortable, domestic routine. It gave Tony something to protect, sure, but gave him something to be even more afraid to lose.
Being Iron Man was easy when it was a task on his list; nothing more than another chore to build his portfolio. A job, even.
But now he’s learned to care about these people. To care about all people. Almost to a fault, if you were to ask some. And now there were these crazy fucking threats. And not a day goes by where he doesn’t think about New York, or the portal, or the Chitauri, or almost not making it back, or all the times he’s almost lost someone, or Phil, or Pepper , or-
You get the point. And Tony didn’t enjoy thinking about the aliens. They were the reason he was laying his head on a freezer shelf.
His heart rate just.. wouldn’t slow down . Tony was very aware of how the human body worked, but he couldn’t escape the illusion of his lungs closing in on him. He clutched onto his reactor. It was his only stable anchor.
"This is why Pepper left you, Anthony. You confuse care with control." Tony laughed, bitter, as he continued to grab at thin straws of oxygen, hoping to not pass out.
[ Tony recalled Pepper’s words to him on their final evening often.
“Even with your gadgets, and your genius, and your money, and your suit of armor, you still aren’t fit to give, or receive, love to or from someone else, Tony. You need to be alone. ”
How could he forget being punched in the gut like that? His stomach still seared if he thought too hard about it, a phantom pain of a hit akin to a villain. Which confused him. She wasn’t even wearing the Rescue suit he’d made for her. ]
It’d been awhile since Tony had an anxiety attack. He’s taken provisions to work through his.. disorder, but it’s hard to take the therapy seriously when you don’t accept that something is actually wrong .
"Shit, shit, shit .” Tony began coughing. He knew he was going to be okay, but his body was already in fight or flight, and it felt like he was riding a wave without a surfboard.
His hands didn't feel like his; Rather as if they were loosely tethered to his body. He clutched at his ribcages as oxygen continued to tease him, dipping in and out of his lungs.
Of course, barely being able to focus on his own heartbeat , Tony was even less aware of the thuds, floor creaks, and crashes he was causing from all the shuffling he was doing. It’s not like it mattered. He was alone.
Or, he thought he was.
"Tony?" A quiet, but smooth voice called out to him. His tone hinted at concern, but he sounded groggy and disturbed.
And there he was. Always lurking. Always there .
"Goddamn it." Tony chuckled, sliding down the, now closed, refrigerator. He continued to fidget with the reactor, smacking at the gadget like it was to blame. Maybe if he hit it hard enough, he’d be able to reboot his nervous system before Steve got any closer and/or saw him.
And, all perfect and movie-like and blonde and blue-eyed, Steve slowly approached Tony from the shadows. He rubbed his eyes, and leaned his body up against the wall. The only light in the room was the dim, blue light on the refrigerator door, and the bright, blue light of Tony's makeshift heart.
With a little more proximity, and a little less panic, it was almost romantic.
Almost.
Then, Steve sighed. "I know you're a free man, but can you not rip through some.. person’s clothes at one in the morning?" He wasn’t fully looking in his direction, probably to avoid being flashed by someone who wasn’t even there.
In any other situation, Tony would’ve laughed, and quipped a “ Why, Rogers? Jealous?”
Instead, he went with: "Oh, I wish Rogers. Nice inclusivity, though. Demolish heteronormativity or whatever." Because a quip was ingrained in him, anxious or not. Tony wheezed the last part.
Eventually, Steve’s eyes did adjust. And extremely well, due to his super soldier capabilities.
And there Tony was. Just laid out for Rogers to see.
And not in the way he’d imagined it. (Many, many, times, might he add.)
They held eye contact for a moment. There was a thin, unspoken tension that overtook them both; this wasn’t something Steve was meant to see, and he knew it. They both did.
They’d both been dancing around each other for months, ever since Ultron. Steve’s been around more; At first it was for the same excuse: “To make sure [Tony] didn’t drive himself into the ground.”
( In which Tony would just roll his eyes and kick him out of the lab. )
Then, it became more. Walks in the morning, saving him extra breakfast, setting reminders for Tony to drink water through Friday, and asking Tony if he needed anything while he was out on a mission.
Then , it became late night conversations, them talking about Steve’s life in Brooklyn, Tony talking about Howard, Steve sitting with him when he couldn’t go to his bed, and.. staying with him on his worst nights. Little things, y’know. Things that didn’t mean anything.
Except for the fact that it meant everything.
Like right now, Tony was watching Steve card through a lot of emotions that he couldn’t focus enough to read. And Tony didn’t like unknowns.
He didn’t want Steve to help him through this. Or help him at all .
He didn’t want to– couldn’t –give him that much control.
And Tony was an expert at building many things, walls included. He’d admit a little too much to the blonde, tell him too much, let him see too much, and immediately pull back and dismiss him.
And Steve’d just.. leave. Because he was respectful, and simple, and square. It was something Tony admired about him, as someone who was complex and always stuck in his own head. It didn’t bother him at all that Steve was put together and Tony wasn't, because he was put together too!
So, Tony tried to stand up, scrambling to gain some leverage here, and- wow . His feet did not want to cooperate. Goddamn Rogers and his ability to make people weak in the knees (I mean, look at those eyes. They housed the sky itself.)
But he couldn’t allow that to stop him. Steve didn’t need to see him like this. It was too much too quickly and- Tony’s breath continued to pick up pace, now even more anxious than before.
Except no he wasn’t! He was fine, he continued trying to convince himself as he finally, finally got off the floor. He even dared to smirk! Was he even having an anxiety attack? He felt on top of the world right now!
[ Except to Steve, it looked like he was just.. gritting his teeth. He watched Tony’s hands tremble with an unsteadiness that was foreign; a mechanic of his caliber didn’t have shaky hands. He couldn’t afford to. What the hell was going on? Was he allowed to ask? He wasn’t sure. ]
“Why the long look, Rogers? You look like someone just asked you to explain how my suit works.” A remark that earned an almost-laugh from Steve, as that was something that’d actually happened to him during an interview.
Tony’s poor attempt to distract Steve from his current condition failed, though, as he watched Steve’s eyes trail over him.
And please do not be confused: Every nerve in Tony Stark’s body lit aflame for Steve Rogers. There truly wasn’t anything he wanted more than to be held together by the arms that held America. Hell, he already was . If he couldn’t rely on anyone else, Steve had proved time and time again that Tony could always slip and fall on him. Even now, there was an absurd amount of concern in his eyes.
But that was the entire reason why he couldn’t . The last thing Steve needed was the baggage of a man who could barely figure out his own feelings, and couldn’t communicate the things he wanted. Including Steve Rogers, who he wanted so, so badly.
Plus, it was easy to imagine a relationship with him. It was easy to imagine caring for the other, and maybe even being cared about.
Execution, though.. proved to be a little harder for Tony. With as much bravado he presented, and intelligence he flaunted, there was a lot that made him nervous . And that paranoia, that fear , had been multiplied exponentially since the lovely visit from the Chitauri.
I.e., the anxiety attack. Which was pretty much over by this point, but was not being helped by Steve’s eyes boring into his soul.
Tony noted that the anxiety had moved from his head and chest, to his chest and stomach. He then realized that they were just.. butterflies. Nervous jitters of a crush or whatever. It was an embarrassing discovery, and he would’ve groaned if Steve wasn’t standing right there .
At least he was panicking about something completely different from before.
And, y’know, Tony almost got away with it. Hiding, of course.
He was standing on two feet, maintaining eye contact, and he’d even controlled his breathing! Although abnormally harsh, he was huffing through his nose. To many, maybe everyone , Tony was just wearing his exasperated expression. It was the one he had when he was being lectured about his wellbeing, and all the other baloney everyone spewed at him.
But Steve couldn’t take his eyes off his hands. They were shaking .
And Tony’s hands didn’t shake. He’d know, he spent a lot of time looking at them.
A lot .
Steve took a step forward, and Tony’s shoulders tensed, ever so slightly. His grip on the counter turned his knuckles white, but he continued his eye contact with Steve.
He took another step, and Tony thought about coughing to break the stare off. The air was too dense, though; All of a sudden, he felt trapped. He couldn’t move. Anything, and he meant anything , could tip Steve off to him not being okay.
And that was the whole thing being avoided! Because Tony really was fine. He couldn't tack this on Steve.
Right?
Would it be so bad to talk to Steve? About his anxiety? About his fears?
About them ?
Tony continued his quick, shallow breaths. He wasn't sure what to say, whether to quip or be honest or to break the silence at all . The only thing he could choke out was a low: “You are incredibly close, Steve.”
His voice was quiet, for he was afraid that if he were any louder he’d.. compromise whatever was going on. He couldn’t help it. He always walked this line with Steve. From the beginning, when they’d fight over any and everything , to when he’d look at Steve a little too long after learning something new about him, to even right now , with Steve looking at him- really looking at him like he was somehow different from the dysfunctional narcissist he was.
They continued to stare at each other, just like they did earlier, until Steve finally spoke.
“Something’s wrong.” He whispered, as if Tony was something fragile.
As if Tony had already let Steve wander too far.
“Oh really? And what gave you that impression?” Tony bit his lip because really- he couldn’t help it. He was exhausted, and fuck - Rogers was already here. Just there, unintentionally being his anchor.
Steve unfolded his arms. “You called me Steve.”
…
Tony blinked.
Yea, he never called Steve.. Steve . But of everything Tony was going through in this very moment, that was what caught his attention?
That was what he cared about?
Tony said his last thought aloud, by accident. Steve raised an eyebrow in return. And Tony just chuckled. Because literally what else could he be talking about .
Steve wasn’t toeing a line, he was just trying to get to know someone who made it impossible to know him. He knew that. Steve wasn’t trying to break down his walls , he was being his normal, Steve Rogers, ‘ Savior of America’ self. Because that’s who he was. Those were his priorities. He was normal , and did not sit around pondering Tony, or what he was feeling about his parents, or anything beyond what affected their dynamic for the team.
Steve didn’t see something in Tony, beyond the facade. He just saw his comrade, who was standing in the kitchen at one in the morning.
Tony sighed, deeply, as the butterflies in him settled and died. He turned his head, looking down and away from Steve.
It never failed him: The overthought. The final push that took him away from rationality, and right into dangerous, vulnerable territory.
The final product of overthinking.
He’d read too much into Steve. Into this. Into them .
He was always too much, always gave too much thought to many things that most people didn’t blink twice at. It was his greatest trait, and biggest downfall.
And the worst part? Steve was still looking at him. The same, knowing expression he was given by plenty of people who thought they knew Tony Stark, and all of his good traits, and all of his bad ones, and knew that he just ran himself into the ground because he felt like it. Because his machines were all that mattered. Not because he cared for humanity. No, never Tony Stark.
It was always miscommunication after miscommunication.
But even with the weight crushing him all of a sudden, Tony couldn’t put this on Rogers. It wasn't his fault. He was hurt, sure, but he didn’t have to make that Steve’s problem.
So, tiredly, he smiled a little. It was pained, but genuine. He palmed at his eyes, feeling the beginning of a sting, and mumbled a “Goodnight, Rogers.”
And, like always, Steve’d let him go, and they’d continue on with their lives. At least he could always rely on that. Because Steve was simple, and respectful, and square.
[ Except Steve was confused. And he didn’t do well with being left in the dark. And that was kind of Tony’s whole protocol. And in all honesty, Steve was sick of it. He’d spent a long time being understanding.
Avoiding Tony’s long looks, ignoring the moments where it felt like they were crossing beyond friend territory, trying to not stare at his hands, his hair, his eyes, his lips . Trying not to smile every time he walked into a room, cringing a little because he laughed a little too loudly at every joke Tony made, balling up notes he almost left on the plates he’d make for Tony, looking for trinkets he might like from his various missions across the world-
Steve was going through it. He had been for a while.
But Steve ignored the way he felt for the sake of waiting on Tony. Because he hoped one day, his patience would pay off, and Tony would let him in.
Or, at least, that’s how he’d been operating.
But watching Tony blatantly lie to him about how he’s feeling, and still refusing to let him help felt.. different . All of sudden, it felt like Tony wasn’t just asking for patience.
It felt like he was asking to be left alone .
And Tony was complicated. Steve knew that. He knew that he had odd defense mechanisms, and a tendency to play the egomaniac role to avoid confrontation about his own inadequacies. He knew that he feared for those around him more than himself, and would do things to prevent catastrophes that hadn’t even happened yet. He learned that when Tony told him about why he and Pepper split.
But Steve also knew that Tony was only Tony–and tolerable –because he cared in a way no one else did. Steve had met many men, in the military and out, who swore to care for this country and its people. He’d watched them rise to positions of power, and gain the influence they’d need to make a difference.
And then he watched those same men abandon their morals, their principles, their people , for the sake of their gadgets, or their money, or their small group of constituents, and no one else .
And he’d thought the same of Tony Stark. From the day they met. No one could convince him otherwise.
And people had tried. Nat, Rhodey, Fury, hell even Pepper. They all kept telling him to give Tony a chance. And though Tony didn’t make it easy at all , eventually he saw what everyone else did.
And then, he saw even more than everyone else did.
And then , one day, he suddenly lived, breathed, and felt Tony Stark in his skin . He couldn’t help it. Even when they used to argue, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Tony deserved a crutch.
And one day, or maybe over the course of the time, or maybe from the moment Steve met Tony, he knew he needed to be Tony’s crutch. Not because Tony needed someone to depend on, but because he wanted to be the one Tony could depend on.
The life of a genius was a lonely one. Add in the money, the heritage, and the ‘saving the world’, and there are very few people left who could understand you.
Steve knew all of that. And he knew that Tony did, too. Even more than he did, obviously.
But if Steve Rogers was nothing else, he was stubborn. And he wasn’t fucking going anywhere.
Not when Tony says his name like a plea.
Not after all this time.
Not with all these unresolved feelings. ]
There was a hand on Tony’s wrist. It was foreign, but not unwelcome.
And that gesture alone was almost enough to make Tony turn around and crumble into Steve’s arms; Because that was all he really wanted.
Really, really wanted.
However, Tony didn’t want him in this . And Tony wasn’t even really sure what “ this ” was, but he knew that he was so, so different from Steve and he didn’t have it in him to.. he wouldn’t do it.
He also wasn’t in the mood to receive the average Steve rant about wellbeing or needing to drink water or any of the usual bullshit people tell him when they catch him in the kitchen without context.
So, he tried to beat him to it. “Rogers, let me go. I'm trying to go rest. Isn’t that what you want, anyways?” He even sprinkled some humor! Tony was oddly good at deflecting. And that’s why Steve was gonna-
“No.”
…
“ No? ”
Tony couldn’t help it, he responded out loud. Again.
Steve doubled down, as he pulled at Tony’s wrist, closing the distance between them. “No. I don’t want you to go pretend to rest. I'm not letting you retreat back to that goddamn lab so you can hide from me again.”
The blonde had shifted the way they were standing, to where now he was blocking Tony from leaving the kitchen. His gaze was intense, and it forced- challenged Tony to look at him. To really look at him.
Tony would be lying to say he wasn’t feeling a little bit of the anxiety he was feeling earlier creeping into his head and chest; Steve was cornering him, and had just accused him of running away from their conversation.
But a small part of Tony was also feeling a small buzz in his stomach, again , mainly due to Steve’s use of swear words. It was a rare occurrence, but gods when he did? He sounded so hot. Tony didn’t know what to do with himself.
Then, he went back to what Steve said.
“ Hiding? Who’s hiding from you ?” Tony asked incredulously, because truly- who was Steve to accuse him of anything?
Steve folded his arms, a familiar anger starting to ignite. “You, Tony.”
Tony smirked involuntarily, as he was reminded of the days where they could barely look at each other without getting agitated.
Oh, if only he knew what that really was at the time.
“Oh, please , enlighten me of a time I ran from you , Rogers.” There was a snark in Tony’s voice when he spoke. It wasn’t intentional.
“ What are you talking about? We talk, we get somewhere, and then you shut me out. You don’t think I caught on to your little pattern? ” There was aggravation in Steve’s voice, too. Usually, he was calmer when dealing with one of Tony’s tantrums. Because he was simple, respectful, and square. He understood.
Right?
“ Shut you out? It isn’t like you’ve ever tried very hard to stay.” Tony gritted, eyes sharpening to something just as fierce as Steve’s glare. There was a venom to his words, and some truth. He hadn’t even noticed that he’d drifted even closer to Steve, with them being chest to chest.
Tony’s heart was beating faster than it probably should’ve been. Steve smelt like sandalwood, and charcoal, and heaven , and he could barely even focus on being mad right now. The last time they were this close, it’s because Tony used some lame excuse of Steve having something on his face. He didn't.
That was the Tony that Steve got when he wasn’t in his head; A Tony who made moves, a Tony who lingered around him, a Tony who was incredibly curious of what Steve thought, really thought about, a Tony who cared and wanted the best for him.
But Tony couldn’t be that Tony all the time. He couldn't.
So he kept up the facade, and pushed and pushed Steve away . Because who cares about accountability? Or growth? Or not ruining the lives of everyone around him? Not asshole, egomaniac, narcissist Tony Stark, that was for damn sure.
Tony was panting, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He was hoping, praying , to whoever was out there, that Steve would just bite , or leave. He was stalling, and it was making Tony anxious. He could handle a fight with Rogers right now. (No, he couldn't. He just thought he could.) He could also handle Steve deciding he truly was too much. (He couldn’t handle that either, but he was trying to convince himself).
What Tony could not handle? Silence .
But, in Steve-fashion, he just closed his eyes, and.. took a deep breath.
Tony wondered if Steve secretly took some kind of pleasure in pushing his nerves to the absolute limit.
He also wondered how it was possible to make a deep breath so attractive .
With the breath, though, Tony felt his hands unclench from the fists he’d unintentionally balled them into. His breath matched Steve’s, and he stopped glaring so hard. He was giving himself a headache.
Steve seemed to notice the change as well, as he stepped back a little. And Tony took the message perfectly.
‘ I'm done arguing with you, but I'm not letting you leave still. ’
Steve wasn’t done saying his piece.
Tony didn’t really want to have a conversation.
Right?
Because he was unprepared.
Tony Stark was unprepared .
And for the briefest moment, there was a spike in his heart rate.
He felt trapped, like usual, and then ..
That was all it was.
The usual, rapid, suffocating thud in his chest was a dull, slight flutter instead.
I mean, it was just Steve.
Right?
[ Tony’s guard wasn’t entirely down, but he seemed more willing to listen. From what Steve could see, anyways. ]
Tony folded his arms without an attitude. In all honesty, it just put a barrier between him and Steve.
[ Rogers noted the defense mechanism in real time. He couldn’t help but want to learn and know everything about Tony. Even moments before what he just knew would be a rejection. ]
Steve’s eyes lingered a little longer, before he cast his gaze to the floor, voice soft and devoid of the anger from earlier. “Can I be honest?”
Tony’s biceps flexed, his arms tightening in their fold, but he nodded. “Floors yours, Rogers.”
On hearing that, Steve stepped back completely.
[ Steve couldn’t help the way his eyes magnetically moved to Tony’s arms. Did he ever mention that he really, really liked Tony’s arms? How could he leave that out.
Holy shit , he needed to focus. He needed to get out of his space. ]
Steve sat on the island behind him. If Tony wanted to walk out, he could now.
But of course, he couldn’t do that to Steve.
He didn’t want to do that to Steve. He was only an asshole in theory.
Tony looked at him with eyes free of judgement, a look he didn’t know drove Steve up a wall , and nodded his head towards him.
Steve sighed. “I didn’t think.. I figured you shutting me out meant you needed time to open up. So I left you alone.”
Tony feigned annoyance, pinching at the bridge of his nose. “Then what are you so mad about? Am I moving too slow for you?” He couldn’t help but to provoke him. Aside from it being so, so fun, Steve was being too gentle. Too domestic.
Too fragile with Tony.
“Let me finish, genius.” He smiled, the same soft smile he used when he told Tony about Brooklyn.
Steve was painfully honest, to a fault. It showed on his face, and it made Tony’s chest hurt. Especially when he thought about how secretive he’s been, even if indirect.
“Somewhere in there..” Steve sighed. “Just now, when you tried to walk away from me, it felt like you didn’t want to open up to me. Like you didn’t want me around.” There was hurt in his eyes, and Tony’s chest twisted at the sight of it. Something in his expression must’ve changed because Steve hopped off the counter, doubling down.
“And that’s not true. Right, Tony?”
The brutal honesty in Steve’s expression made not only the hurt clear, but the desperation . Steve wasn’t asking him this to manipulate him at all. If Tony told Steve to get out of his sight right now , he’d apologize and leave.
And Tony thought about it.
Obviously, he wouldn’t.
But was he pushing Rogers away because he, subconsciously, didn’t want him around?
No, he knew that. The selfishness in his continued glances, the curiosity he felt whenever Steve opened up, the way his chest swelled when Steve asked him if he was okay, even if he didn’t always answer truthfully.
He knew he wanted Steve. Want didn’t even feel like the right word.
He.. needed him.
Tony Stark needed someone.
..Did that make him weak?
He couldn’t bring himself to answer that. To admit that out loud.
To admit anything .
He wasn’t even sure if Steve even knew what he was poking at.
But Tony was starting to think that maybe Steve wasn’t so simple, so respectful, or so square.
As the time passed though, Tony remained frozen. He watched Steve’s eyes fade from hopeful, to somber, to accepting. And he smiled again. The same one that always told Tony that he’s being genuine.
Gods , Steve and his fucking authenticity.
“It's alright, Tony. Really." Steve smiled sadly. There was a sense of retreat in his words, and for the first time ever , he could feel.. Steve closing up.
Just like that.
It was so quick .
Tony couldn’t think fast enough on what to say. To get him to not walk away, to stop, to not leave him .
And then, Steve was turning to walk away.
And he didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve silence .
Tony had spent a lot of time talking about what he couldn’t do to Steve, or what was best for Steve, but he was watching the product of everything he’d done push Steve further away from him. Like, actually push him away.
Holy shit, Steve was walking away. Seriously this time.
Steve deserved to know that- That he- Tony couldn’t -
Even if he couldn’t get out exactly what he wanted, needed , from Steve, he could at least say something .
Right?
He just needed to- He wanted -
[ Stupid, stupid, stupid . Steve couldn’t believe himself.
He’d let his stubbornness cloud his vision. Again . This was a common occurrence for him. The times he’d push too hard for what he wanted, so much so that it’d get him and the people willing to fight with him in trouble.
Steve always feared this would happen.
Times he’d gotten his men killed trying to get to Hydra, times he’d lost fights trying to see the good in people who didn’t want to be good, hell even-
..Bucky. He'd.. lost Bucky the same way.
Him and his inability to just stop. Fighting.
And now, he’d driven Tony into a corner, a very uncomfortable position, and pushed him too hard.
Whatever’s going on with him isn’t any of Steve’s business. And he was a fool to think that Tony was trying to get through to him.
And he knew that if he’d told Nat, or Sam, about Tony’s rejection, they’d blame him . Say Tony had led him on, or that he was immature, or emotionally stunted, or any of the other rude insults they hurled at Tony when he wasn’t paying attention.
But even now, Steve couldn’t blame Tony. Because he knew Tony. And he knew that if nothing else, Tony wouldn’t hurt him.
Not if he didn’t deserve it.
This was his fault, not the mechanic’s.
Steve Rogers and his baggage struck again.
And he’d tried to heal that nagging feeling in his gut, and insatiable need to fix everything, and his unnecessary trait of taking on the world’s issues as his own fault, but he couldn’t help it.
He didn’t know how to be different.
And, mistakenly, he thought he might’ve found an.. oasis of comfort.
Steve had found some of himself in Tony. It was Steve’s first inkling of Tony being more than what met the eye.
It was the baggage of being a superhero.
Of being Captain America and Iron Man.
Of being Steve Rogers and Tony Stark.
Maybe that was the real reason he couldn’t blame Tony.
It’d be like pointing fingers in a mirror. ]
“ I need you, Steve.” Tony whispered, whimpered , almost like he’d expected Steve to be gone already. Tony’s voice was so honest, so guttural , that he’d keeled over. It manifested on him physically; His hands resting atop his knees.
There was nausea, there was fear, there were butterflies .
He really, really didn’t mean to say that. Genuinely, he just wanted Steve to stop .
To not walk away from him.
He wasn’t even sure if that was what Steve was looking for.
He had to get it out.
Secrecy was turning on him, he presumed.
What Tony couldn’t see, while he was bent, was that Steve had stopped dead in his tracks.
The super soldier was so still that he was holding his breath .
Was the oxygen always this thin when these two were around each other?
“Ugh, I can’t believe- Gods , Steve, what am I doing?” Tony panted, a mix between uncomfortable and weightless . “I don’t- I don’t know. The words, they won’t stop.” His hands trembled, feeling a hike in adrenaline.
The rambling continued, Tony shaking his hands as he inhaled. “Does the room feel small to you? I hope so. There’s no way I'm the only one feeling like this. Or maybe I am. I don’t know, my anxiety’s been really bad lately. Why aren’t you saying anything?” He dragged his hands down his face. “Oh, and while we’re here, I hate that you don’t dump out the coffee grounds when you use the machine. I don’t- I-”
“What’d you say?” Steve finally did speak, back still turned to Tony.
“Which part, Rogers? You gotta be more specific.” Tony exhaled, shaky and unsure.
“Just repeat the, uh.. important parts.” Steve mumbled, tone unreadable.
“It was all important information, Steve. I can’t breathe, you and the damn coffee machine, my anxiety’s been pretty bad, I need you, that’s a pretty big one-”
And then, the breath is knocked from Tony’s windpipes (for like the 40th time in the past twenty minutes .)
Because Steve’s red. And he means beyond cherry .
His eyes are a little glossed over, and he’s breathing, but through his nose.
Just as shaky, just as unsure as Tony.
“Did you say.. that you suffer from anxiety?” Steve’s voice cracked.
Tony swallowed.
“I feel like we’re glossing over something pretty huge , Rogers-”
“Steve. It’s Steve to you.” Steve’s eyes hardened a little. Tony’s stomach fluttered.
Surely he can’t just decide that, right?
Steve pointed a–quite rude, if you asked Tony–finger at him. “And we will get back to that. But first: Have you been going through your attacks.. alone?” There was a knowing look in the blonde’s eyes, and it made Tony not want to answer.
Steve already knew what the answer was, anyways.
“ Tony -”
The shorter cuts him off before he can lecture him. “Hey! I'm going to therapy, and I'm trying to put less of my issues onto other people. Don’t worry. Especially after Pepper, I-”
“Wait, was Pepper not there? ” There was disbelief, yes, but worse- anger in the base of Steve’s voice. It was low, and gravelly , and-
Not the time, Tony, not the time.
He also realized what he’d accidentally admitted, and what Steve was actually asking.
‘ Pepper didn’t help you through your attacks? ’
And really, truly , that was his fault. Not hers.
Partially because he hid them from her for a very, very long time. In turn, it made her think Tony was lying to try and get in her head about the suits, and-
He didn't want to think about it.
“Steve..” Tony winced, unsure of where to go next.
And Steve paced a little, in the small space between the kitchen and the island, before he sighed.
“Are you upset I didn’t tell you?” Tony squeezed his eyes shut for a brief moment. He'd be lying to say that he wasn’t prepared for an argument to ensue. It wasn’t something he wanted to believe Steve would berate him for, but it wouldn’t be the first time.
Tony had to stop doing that. It was a mischaracterization of Pepper. She was deservedly scared that Tony would kill himself due to his obsession with keeping the world safe, but it was so much more than that and he didn’t know how to make her understand that.
She never did . They'd argued a number of times because Tony had spent another night in his lab, but he just wanted to keep her safe . Sure, he’d be mid-attack and she’d tell him he was being dramatic, but he was sometimes! Did he really need to tweak his suit that often? He’d just almost died twice! It was a mere price to pay for the safety of everyone around him.
In Tony’s mind, if he stopped, people died. In Pepper's mind, if he kept going, he’d die.
It was a confusing relationship. It was confusing to love her. It was confusing for her to love him .
What if Steve didn’t understand it either ? Gods , why was it so hard to just trust ? It was too hard, trying again, trying to be different than he was.
Because he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t stop. Not when it was his duty .
Tony was spiraling, he could feel it. His hands trembled as they clenched and unclenched, a repetitive motion he only did when he was trying to distract himself.
Even with the cat out of the bag, Tony still felt that he wouldn’t be right for Steve .
[ All the evasion tactics, all the defense mechanisms, all the secrecy . It all made so much sense now.
Tony was suffering from anxiety.
How did he not notice?
Steve’d worked with many men who had anxiety coming into the war. He’d worked with many men who walked out with it. And while not the same, he had a version of PTSD himself. It was just common for those who’ve served. It didn’t gnaw at his mind as heavily as most soldiers, as the serum preserved his brain by simply blocking those memories.
However, he wasn’t invincible. All of the violence, destruction, death ; It all caught up with him eventually. He knew that. Some days were worse than others. Some nights were more torture than others.
Even that part of Tony Stark–the part Tony’d been hiding and isolating himself for, Steve understood.
Steve never thought he’d find his special someone after Peggy. She was his one in a million. Someone who was too good for him.
And Steve would always mourn the fact that he’d never get to know if Peggy would’ve loved him for all he was, not just early day Captain America.
But Tony.. Tony was his one in a billion . Someone who could accept him. Someone so much bigger than Steve would ever be.
Truly, was there anyone else meant for him? ]
Tony inhaled, and exhaled, as he tried to get a grip with reality. Steve did not just willingly put himself into the abyss that’s named Tony Stark, just for Tony to doubt his intentions.
“I'm sorry, I just- I might need a moment.” Tony mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose as he leaned against the counter for support. He could feel himself rocking back and forth, a stability stim he had. This evening had left him more neurotic than he’d been in a while , and he just needed a moment to-
“Tony.” He heard Steve’s feet shift as he spoke.
He opened his eyes to the blonde being directly in front of him.
There was something else Tony hadn’t really made note of until now: Steve was very.. quiet-ing. He didn’t know how else to word it. There was just something so… calming about him.
Was this what made him Captain America? His ability to command full attention, even when not trying to?
Or was that just Tony?
He.. didn’t know. He really didn’t. Steve really was just so, so handsome . In a way that went beyond physical attraction.
Then, Steve was cupping the sides of Tony’s face, with a coolness that- gods , that helped . Especially as someone who was laying his head on a freezer shelf just 30 minutes ago, looking for the same comfort that the blonde’s hands were just.. providing .
Without question, or hesitation.
Though, there was also a warmth there, in his hands. The glossiness of his eyes remained, but the sadness and anger had fizzled out.
Tony was genuinely there, standing face to face with Steve’s feelings.
Steve wanted Tony.
And Tony needed him. And even though he’d said it out loud, it didn’t change him being fucking terrified .
[ Completely honed in on the beautiful, wonderful man in front of him, Steve felt Tony’s breath begin to pick up pace. It made him a little sad that Tony was this nervous about anything that had to do with him.
Most times, Tony’s the one who’s eons ahead of him. But at this moment, he needed someone to anchor him.
This was all Steve ever wanted. To be there for when Tony couldn’t be.. Tony. Because he knew that the mechanic had his moments, and his anxiety explained a lot of small gaps Steve couldn’t fill in alone. He also knew that witty, funny, flirty Tony wasn’t always in.
But Steve didn’t care about that.
He enjoyed the happy, bright parts of Tony, and the somber, dark ones.
Because he accepted Tony as he was, in the same way Tony had him. ]
“Steve, I-” Tony choked out. He hated how elementary he felt when his nerves were shot. It was out of his control, he knew that, but he was usually able to hold it more .
There was a small part of him though–was it small?–that just wanted to let Steve hold him , for once.
Would that be okay?
Steve doesn’t move his hands, even as Tony seems like he’s trying to flee.
Steve’s breath is slow, steady, grounding. And initially, Tony doesn’t even notice. He's just waiting for Steve to tell him that he’s changed his mind, or that Tony’s too much, or that Tony’s not enough.
But then, Steve.. doesn’t say any of that.
He doesn’t speak at all .
He just keeps breathing.
And, involuntarily, Tony just starts.. breathing too. Slowly, steadily.
Steve slowly leaned forward, almost as if to not scare Tony, and laid his forehead upon the mechanics.
For the briefest, scariest moment yet, Tony feared (hoped?) Steve was making a move on him. However, there was a wave of both disappointment and relief when their heads made contact.
“You just need to talk to me, Tony.” Steve spoke softly, as he found his way back to the path of fragility. And as much as Tony hated to admit it, it was working . Both the comfort Steve’s voice brought him, and getting to see a side of Steve no one but Tony could, warmed his heart. Truly.
Tony sighed shakily as he spoke. “I think.. I can’t.. I don’t.. remember how to do this.”
Steve chuckled, sending a vibration through both of them. “I’ve been out of practice for about 80 years, Tony. There's no rush to figure it out.”
“No, no, this is different .” Tony whispered, harsh and small. Though, he immediately felt guilty. He was minimizing Steve’s past, which was not his intention. God, he hated talking about himself.
“Okay. Make me understand.” was all Steve said.
Him and this blasphemous level of understanding was going to kill Tony.
Tony tried to squeeze his eyes shut further , as if that was possible.
“I just- I can’t Steve. I can’t do it.”
“Tony, hey -”
“What if we do this, and you end up hating me? What if I can’t give you the level of emotional care you’ve already given me? What if I'm too much for you? Or not enough ? What if I ruin you, Rogers?” And Tony’s blurting again- Before he could even fucking think about it.
Seriously, not a fucking thought in his mind. He’d cringe at his vulnerability if it wasn’t crushing him currently.
And then, Tony let out the deepest exhale, releasing the last bit of whatever he was holding.
“I can’t drag you into my mess, Steve.” Tony mumbled, defeatedly. His words rubbed salt into the gaping wound in his chest.
Pepper left him because she had to deal with too much of Tony. It was something he never forgave himself for. It was something he’d carried for so long , along with all the other bullshit that came with being Iron Man, genius, playboy, philanthropist, billionaire Tony Stark.
It was a burden he carried alone.
Fuck man, relationships were hard .
[ Steve’s chest panged with every question Tony asked.
Tony had been carrying his flaws as battle scars.
And that hurt like hell. Steve would know . Even before the serum, Steve knew what it’d felt like to be battered and broken because of your own faults.
And he had plenty of things he’s never forgiven himself for. Things he never planned to forgive himself for.
But that’s a burden that he couldn’t let Tony carry. Especially when so many of the things he faulted himself for were things that were truly out of his control.
Steve wanted Tony to carry his burdens as bruises.
Because unlike battle scars, bruises healed . ]
“Why do you get to make that choice for me, Tony?” Steve mumbled, almost sounding just as tired and defeated as Tony. He moved his head back to look Tony in the eyes.
The mechanic's eyes widened. Tony wasn’t.. Surely not.
He was protecting Steve.
He voiced that thought, accidentally. In which, Steve sighed, laughed a little, and shook his head.
And although Tony did not find his issues to be very lighthearted, it did something to him to watch Steve wave them off. Not dismissively, but as if Tony was, once again, different from the dysfunctional neurotic narcissist he was.
“Tony.. you don’t get to decide what I do or do not want.” Steve’s hands moved further down his jaw, cradling him. “No matter how much you think you aren’t right, or how much you may think we’ll fail, relationships go two ways.” He smiled.
No, it wasn’t a smile. It was a grin . “You are plotting for us to crash, and we haven’t even gotten in the car yet, dear. It’s hurting my feelings.”
“That wasn’t what I.. What if I really do overwhelm you, Steve?” Tony mumbled, a little dazed. He could feel a shift on the horizon, though; Suddenly, he could feel himself melting into Steve’s hands.
Not holding himself together.
Not holding himself back .
Steve’s tone solidified. “You aren’t the only one with baggage, Stark.”
The last name made Tony blink. It was a formality he’d used to use frequently that faded away as they grew closer. There was gravity in his words, weighing on Tony’s chest.
He was gonna explode.
[ Steve enjoyed watching the admiration and trust fill Tony’s eyes in real time. It was cute, and made Steve feel a little mushy.
What a weird thing feelings were. ]
Steve’s smile found its way back to his face before he continued. “I think if anything, we’ll overwhelm each other . I’m a little more than you may think, Tony. And even if we somehow become too much for each other, we’ll figure it out.”
Weakly, Tony tried to cut in. “But-”
“ And ,” Steve continued, still as strong in his speech as he was his feelings. “Even if somehow we can’t figure it out, it doesn’t matter .”
Steve drops his hands down to Tony’s shoulders, squeezing them. “I’ll never ever regret being with you. I could never . I..” The blonde trails off at the look in Tony’s eyes.
…
There’s a brief moment where Tony can’t, really can’t , feel, or see, or hear, or taste anything but Steve Rogers .
Then, there’s bells, and whistles, and fireworks, and cheers . The final signal; The last bit of foundation of Tony Stark’s walls had finally crumbled.
He needed Steve. He wanted Steve. And after an endless, and exhausting battle with himself and the blonde, Tony’s mind was finally.. assured.
He was content. And he’d made his decision.
He was going to have Steve.
Every corner of his mind filled with happiness, and admiration, and..
[ “I could never. I..” Steve trails off, remembering his pact to himself.
He didn’t want to overwhelm Tony anymore. And even if nothing fruitful came from this conversation right now, if he could just plant the seed in his mind.. maybe, just maybe , Tony would one day be ready.
Steve just couldn’t handle losing him. Not when every cell in his body watched, cared for, and adored Tony Stark.
He could hold out, seriously, he could- ]
“ I love you, Steve .” Tony whispered, loud enough for the two of them to hear alone.
…
It was sudden, just as sudden as his plea for the blonde earlier, but there was no uncertainty.
No fear.
No paranoia .
Not when Steve’d worked so hard to quiet Tony’s mind.
Not when every part of Tony loved Steve.
…
And then, all tensions came crashing at once: Steve’s hands had found their way back to Tony’s face; Cradling, just as before. Tony had a fistful of Steve’s shirt in one hand, the other attached to the back of his neck. And while Steve was more intense, more needy, Tony was more experienced, and sure . There was heat, lips and teeth clashing at the seams. Desperation without hunger, intensity without intention, love without lust.
Once the need of it all simmered, though, the kiss reduced itself to something more languid; A slow, passionate dance that made both of them feel like teenagers sneaking around to see one another. There was a rhythm their tongues followed, with neither fighting for dominance. Like there wasn’t meant to be anyone in control.
Like this was just something they were meant to feel. To have .
They didn’t break apart until Tony needed air. (A super soldier perk, Steve had learned.) Steve pecked him a couple more times, before leaning back from Tony to look into his eyes. Tony noted that Steve enjoyed eye contact for.. later.
Tony doesn’t speak. He can’t . Between the two of them, Tony seemed to be the only dazed one .
Did that really even just happen ? Was he having a really vivid lucid dream? He’d done that before.
He does notice it, though. That emotion in Steve’s eyes he couldn’t make out earlier? The one that made him anxious? It was love .
It was just love . It’s there now. Tony smiles without fatigue for the first time in a while.
Steve’s the one to break the silence.
“You have.. no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” He grinned. Tony smacks his chest softly, leaning on it. Steve and his dopey grin was gonna be so bad for his heart.
“No, I can, sweetheart.” Tony teased, grinning at the speed of Steve’s heartbeat. “You’re a good kisser though. You sure you’ve been out of commission for all 80 of those years?”
“Uh uh, I said I haven’t been in a relationship in 80 years. I’m not a monk, Tony.” Steve answered honestly. Tony chuckled. He was too old for jealousy, and definitely not in a position to complain about someone’s sexual escapades.
Then, Tony leaned back and yawned. It’d completely slipped his mind that it was one in the morning.
Oops, almost two, actually. It’d been awhile since their episode of shenanigans had started.
“Bedtime for you, young one?” Steve questioned, still teasing.
Tony rolled his eyes. “Oh, would you quit it?”
Steve grinned, putting his hands up in defeat. “Alright, alright.”
Steve stretched, and yawned shortly after Tony. Subsequently, the mechanic gave him a knowing look.
“That was you, not me.” Steve answered, matter-of-factly.
“Yea, sure.” Tony grinned.
He simply couldn’t believe that this gorgeous, hilarious, loveable square wanted to be his.
Well- He couldn’t really call him square anymore. He wasn’t. He was actually quite complex. Tony couldn’t wait to find out more of his quirks.
And he really couldn’t believe that Steve wanted Tony to be his.
Rather than anxious, though, the thought made him elated . It made him want to be better , whatever that meant to Steve.
Tony’s chest was warm with how easy it was to just.. be with him. He knew the blonde could feel it, too. The way they were acting; It wasn’t very different from how they were before their conversation. The closeness, the quips, the love-eyes.
They just didn’t know what it was.
Or, more accurately, Tony was avoiding what it was. And Steve was too, in a way.
But there was no more boundary to dance around. Just a ballroom for the two of them to dance together in .
Truth be told, he was over the moon . Swept off his feet.
Both figurative and literally.
“ Steve! ” Tony whisper-shrieked. Although no one else was in the tower, Tony didn’t enjoy loud noises at night. He wouldn’t break his own rules.
The reason for his whisper-yelp? Steve had picked him up, an arm beneath both his legs and back; Bridal-style.
“What? You’re tired. I’m taking you to your room.” Steve smiled sweetly as he walked, and- How could Tony even pretend to be exasperated with being carried when Steve looked so damn happy to do it?
Rather than playing the tough guy role, Tony simply laid on Steve’s shoulder. “Fine. But only if you’ll sleep with me.”
Steve perked an eyebrow, a knowing grin overtaking his smile. “Woah, Tony, it’s only been like, ten minutes.”
And Tony laughed . Really laughed. So much so that he missed Steve admiring him, tracing Tony’s smile lines and lips with his eyes.
Tony wipes a tear from his eye with a grin that stretched to both of his ears. “Y’know, for the first time ever, that’s not what I meant.”
There’s a small falter in Steve’s face, before Tony pats his face and adds, “One day, sweetheart.”
And of course, in Steve-fashion, a faint blush blooms on his cheeks and trails down to his neck.
When they arrive at Tony's room, they get comfortable. Tony learns that Steve doesn’t sleep with a shirt on (something he’d never complain about.) Steve learns that Tony always sleeps in black tank tops, and doesn’t sleep with pants on (something he’d never complain about.) Steve comments on how Tony’s bed is more comfortable than his. Tony tells him to get used to it. Steve usually likes sleeping in complete silence, but Tony prefers rain noises. It reminds him of the tinker noise of machines. Eases him. Steve turns off the lamp, and tells Friday to play said rain noises.
And then, they’re facing each other. In a bed. That they are sharing . There’s a small tension, faint but there. It’d been a long, long time since they’d been in this situation. Tony had forgotten, in all honesty.
About seven months back, when Tony and Pepper had first broken up, Tony had a nightmare of Mark 42 killing her. He’d hyperventilated, and found himself in the kitchen. And, much like earlier, Steve had found him.
Steve had agreed to sleep with him that night. He’d actually convinced Tony to do so. Something about “not needing to be alone with nightmares.” He was right. It was the best sleep Tony had ever gotten. And the beginning of Tony putting distance between him and Steve.
Tony winced at the memory. Of course, back then he wouldn’t have even been capable of fathoming Steve’s feelings, but genuinely how did he miss that?
Anyways, as you could imagine, there wasn’t very much room for either of their minds to wander. Not in the way(s) they did right now.
Tony’s mind did wander. And he was sure Steve’s did too. Especially with Steve looking at Tony like he had something to say . And Tony was trying his hardest to not overthink it. That was the entire point of their conversation earlier. Like, the entire point.
But, right before Tony was about to address it, Steve leaned in and kissed Tony. Then, he kissed his cheek. And his forehead. And his hair. Short, peppery kisses.
…
And then, he whispered into the bubble that encapsulated just them. “ I love you too, Tony. More than you could ever know. ”
That was the widest either one of them had ever smiled.
…
Tony awoke with a secure arm wrapped around his waist, and his legs entangled with the blonde’s. The sunlight peeked through the curtains softly, indicating that it was early morning. Maybe five or six. He could feel Steve rustling beside him, though. Tony knew he wouldn’t be awake long, as he didn’t usually rise until about nine.
Even while barely conscious, though, Tony didn’t miss an opportunity to admire Steve. He watched the light illuminate Steve’s face. He noticed how relaxed his shoulders were, the slow rise and fall of his chest, the way his lips were slightly parted as he slept, the way his hair still looked perfect. (No, Tony wasn’t jealous. Why would he be?)
And as he slipped back into his own slumber, Tony had a distant, but strong, thought.
‘ I could wake up like this forever. ’