#stevextony fic

[dirigibleplumbing]

In Full Color

Fandom: MCU Pairings: Steve/Tony Rating: G

Tags: Soulmates, Getting Together, NYC, MoMa, Museum Dates, Flirting, Happy Ending

For the @warmlightzine.

Summary: A 2012-fandom-vibes fic in which people gain color vision on meeting their soulmate—but Steve's been able to see in color since the serum.

read the fic on ao3

[cosm1cbrownie]

stay. based on chapter 3 of @veldeia 's AA fic, Every Beat, Every Breath

ao3 version here

[hesallin]

It’s not a particularly good line, and yet- Steve’s whole body flushes. He can smell the aftershave Tony uses, bergamot and leather; His breath catches on the shell of Steve's ear, and the low rumble of Tony's voice warms his belly. Steve looks around, feeling caught out, but nobody’s paying attention to them. He thinks someone should be noticing this- that if people were looking, that would mean something was really happening. ‘I love you,’ Steve wants to say, ‘I’m sorry.’ (Everyone thinks Steve and Tony are in love. They are, of course- if only they could just tell each other)

a 2012 avengers tower inspired fic <3

[cherryblossomsmist]

Tony has been forced into public events and appearances all day, the perils of keeping busy in the holiday season, but due to some scheduling oversight he has an entire day of outdoor events one after another. And the multiple events for different organizations and businesses and charities isn’t odd but yeah somehow his newest PA hadn’t realized he was going to be outside for various things like tree cutting, ice skating, sleigh riding, tree lighting, Christmas Market grand opening, and finally winter fire works.

And either it’s been a freezing cold snowy day or maybe it’s been a wet and rainy (but still cold) day and he powered thru it like a champ (or a man that knew if he canceled on even one of these events he was going to be labeled a Scrooge by the media). In anycase he’s chilled to the bone and Steve takes care of him that night

Maybe he and Steve had plans they cancel to get Tony warm, maybe Steve runs into him coming home and sees he needs help, maybe they are together or maybe this is the first time they snuggle up by the fire as friends and leave as something more. Maybe Steve leaps into action, eager to help, or maybe Tony’s chilled skin and pallor makes him think of the ice and he muscles thru that discomfort to help Tony.

I assume hot coco or warm cider is enjoyed, a wood fire it lit, and maybe a bath is drawn, there’s definitely soft warm sheets slid into at the end

Oh, my God, I LOVE this. Like the hurt/comfort potential is so good, and it's so Tony to like, push himself like that, even if he's miserable. And extra if you know, he really hates the cold and really feels it, partly because of his bad circulation, partly because of how when he was on the streets, the cold really got to him, and he almost died in that blizzard that lead to his getting sober, and every winter he goes back to that, wakes up with nightmares about being back there--so he's already exhausted before the whole marathon of Christmas outdoor experiences. And of course he's never actually talked about that with anyone, so no one actually knows how bad it is to him, and how it gets to him. His hands are aching and freezing through his gloves and he keeps feeling like he's freezing to death again despite the warm cashmere coat he's wearing, but he's not gonna complain, he's just not.

And Steve, who used to suffer through his own miserable winters as a boy, who for a while there was afraid he might freeze to death some winters in a tenement without heat, takes one look at him when he gets back to the mansion, tower, whatever it is, and he just knows he's miserable. Tony's so cold, he's so pale, he feels like he's half frozen, and maybe it does make him a little uncomfortable, but he still leaps into action, eager to help. Tony's ... dazed, he's a little slow from the cold, and he's clearly miserable. He responds with vague words to his worried questions, and isn't even able to effectively pretend he's okay. His hair is wet under his hat from the snow. When Steve touches his cheek, Tony can barely feel it, he can tell. Steve is Fixing This.

He makes Tony some hot cocoa (because I keep imagining Tony as a closet lover of chocolate, and Steve knows it), and he rubs on his cold hands and blows on them--if they're together, he kisses at each cold knuckle and the tips of his fingers--and rubs his hands up under his shirt, up and down his back, exclaiming over how cold Tony feels with soft concern, before he draws him a bath and gently bullies him into it, while he asks Jarvis for a heating pad for the bed like he often uses himself when he gets a little too close to the ice in his head. He massages him after, either just his shoulders and arms and hands and feet if they're not together, his whole body if they are together, and makes sure he puts on warm pajamas and a warm robe. He puts his arms around him and Tony just--leans into him, because he never expected all of this. Any of this. Tony's kind of horrified when he realizes he's nuzzling into Steve's chest, but he's so, so warm and comforting and steadying, and his warm hands are stroking Tony's shoulders, up into his hair, kneading at his muscles.

And maybe that progresses to sex, if they're together, or even if it's their first time--what better way to warm Tony up, after all, right? But Steve insists he stays bundled up while they're doing it, until Tony is actively flushed in the face, and he drinks a lot of cold water after they're done, as Steve laughs at how overheated he's gotten Tony and kisses all over his face, pressing his big warm body up against Tony, and Tony rubbing his hands up and down Steve's bare chest in between drags of ice water, while Steve rubs at the back of his neck with one hand.

[perlmutt-perl]

Hey there, i thoroughly enjoyed Jinx my Heart steve x tony Hogwarts!AU

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ it to bits

But then after several rereads, comes soooo many questions..

Hope this doesn't bother you

So here goes

- it's mentioned that steve physique in his first year was comparable to pre-serum steve, does quidditch now turns him to captain's physique & since when?

- pepper and all the other avengers all seem to be the same age, they're 6th years at Hogwarts, but how could pepper (it's pepper duh) don't know what happened between stevextony? How they fell out etc?

-where's rhodes? I mean, i found his straight forward analytics and no-nonsense attitude towards tony cowardice (especially regarding his (hopeless) love life) VERY refreshing and entertaining*evil laugh*

Thanks you very much for writing this gem

For not giving up on stony

For always contributing with new ideas

Xoxox

🥰

Hello dear friend, thank you soooo much for sharing all of your thoughts and questions with me 💙 honestly, it makes me very happy to know that you enjoy the fic so much 🥰

To answer your questions: 1) Steve’s hitting puberty. This will be covered in a later chapter 😌 2) Pepper is an exchange student from Ilvermorney. She met Tony during his own trip to the US and decided to accompany him back to Hogwarts, which is the reason why she doesn't know what happened between Steve and him. 3) Rhodes is 2 years older than Tony and is already working to become an auror.

I hope this answers some of your questions. 💙 best wishes ✨️

[writing-processing]

WE DID IT

BYLER SURPASSED BUCKYXREADER AND STEVEXTONY AND IT'S SIMILAR IN POPULARITY TO PETER AND IRONDAD FICS WE WON

[alexrogersstark]

My Baby Takes the Morning Train

Steve’s hand tightened around the cold metal bar as the elevator gave its first lurch and then sped higher and higher at a dizzyingly fast pace. He could swear he could hear a whirring of the air rushing past them outside and a nervous clench captured his stomach. He and machines never got along so well. Ma always used to joke he could break anything running on electricity with a single look.

A soft smile came to his face at the hazy memory, faded from years of disuse, and his hand continued to constrict as the elevator shot up; never knew when his luck might strike, Steve thought on a nervous huff of a near-laugh.

To his left, Steve felt more than saw Bucky shuffle, and the scrit-scratching of his shoe on the carpet started. Steve took it for the tell-tale sign that it was. The noise of a car gearing up, revving its engines.

He felt a tenseness begin its ascent up his shoulders as he glanced to his right.

The young man had settled in besides him right as the doors were closing. Well, more like slid in through a barely there slit and shoot a glare up towards the shiny, reflective ceiling like it had personally offended him. The man hadn’t so much as given them a cursory glance as he lodged next to Steve.

Steve eyed him, curiosity spiking in his gut. The young man’s nose was practically glued to the screen in front of him, a white reflection shining in round, clear glasses. Brown eyes shown, wild and excited beneath the frames lining them. There was a slightly wild twist to his dark brown hair that Steve suddenly wanted to capture in wild whips on a canvas.

Blinking, Steve realized he was staring, or, rather, openly gaping at the stranger. Glancing away, he caught a soft whiff of cherries circling his nose from the man’s direction, and Steve looked over again, captivated.

It was a good distraction. The fluttering in his stomach started to take the form of that nervousness he got whenever someone interesting caught his eye. The feeling, a swooping, thrilling sensation, was a little different, though. Stronger than any of those other times and easily overcoming his first day jitters.

He and Bucky had gotten the interviews via an old friend. An old co-worker of his mom’s who’d come to the funeral and given Steve peonies that made him think of the sunsets she used to enjoy. Steve couldn’t remember the gentleman’s name after his tour. There was a flicker of guilt there that Steve couldn’t quite place. From not remembering the name or for being so outwardly desperate and weak enough to need a man he barely knew anymore to offer them help.

Still. Stark Industries.

He couldn’t turn his nose up at such an offer; couldn’t afford to. Neither of them. Not after Bucky had been honorably-discharged and given a barely usable arm and a small wad of gauze to patch it up with. Not after the medical bay diagnosed Steve with PTSD and depression because of the mission that sent Bucky home and then the mission that cost Steve the rest of his team mere days later.

The only thing that greeted him when he came home were screams that echoed in his ears at night, lasting so long the line blurred and Steve couldn’t tell if the screams were his or theirs. Sometimes, he could still smell the dirt that coated his nose and skin so thick, they were almost another layer of skin. Or maybe a layer of armor. Armor that had done no good at protecting him from the gut-wrenching scent of gunpowder and burning skin.

The attack had been a surprise. It hadn’t been his fault. That’s what they’d told him, at least.

Steve took a deep breath in.

Cherries.

He glanced back to the right. Bucky had made some comment a moment ago, under his breath, about the young man’s choice of attire, adding on some tacky line about kids-these-days and getting-old-and-going-downhill. Steve smiled to himself. The man couldn’t be younger than twenty, and he and Bucky were only twenty-five. But he could understand that the outfit wasn’t the most professional of choices. Didn’t mean Steve didn’t appreciate and find the clothes absolutely stunning.

The man wore a sleek button up shirt absolutely surging with bright yellows and reds, buttons parting all the way down the man’s chest only to join back together just above his belly-button. The shirt was hanging open just enough for Steve to get a glimpse of a gorgeously lithe frame and a slight mottling of red, puffed skin at the center of the man’s chest. Like he’d been burned.

Steve wanted to reach forward and run his fingertips along the ridges. Find out if there was a way for him to make any lasting pain go away. And he couldn’t help but think how brave this man was to be showing something so personal so proudly.

Lord knew Steve didn’t have the guts to do that himself. There were thirty-eight missed calls, all contained in a little, red bubble, from doctors and pharmacists reminding him to make appointments and pick up medications he couldn’t afford and Bucky knew nothing about.

The front of the man’s shirt was tucked neatly into a tight pair of skinny jeans that left very little to the imagination. At the man’s ankles, the pants were folded up to show a glimmering patch of tan skin that disappeared into bright, white Oxfords.

His eyes stuttered up to find the young man staring back at him, phone dark in his hands. Steve quickly felt heat threaten to take over his entire face and forced it back. In a miracle of all miracles, despite Steve’s highly invasive checking-out of the man’s everything, he gave Steve a small smile.

Automatically, Steve smiled back, quickly looking away at the sight of that doe-eyed look from beneath sinuously long lashes.

On his right, Steve heard Bucky shift again, and Steve shot him a reproachful look. A warning he knew Bucky wouldn’t listen to. But, well, insanity and all that. However, a bored Bucky had never been good, and the returning mischievous grin only lent to Steve’s worry.

He stepped a little closer to the young man, furtively trying to put his body between the man and Bucky.

The man glanced up again and caught Steve’s eye. Steve gave another soft smile before swiveling his head to the ground to stare at his shoes. God. They weren’t nearly as nice as the man’s next to him. He frowned at one particular scruff over the faux-leather covering his big toe. From the corner of his eye, he thought he might have caught the man returning his smile, something Steve couldn’t quite place lurking in those amber eyes.

Steve felt the man’s continued gaze on him like a physical branding, leaving his skin hot and twitchy. Like the caress of a barely-there touch from calloused fingertips, and Steve had the wild thought of asking this man if he played violin or guitar. What had caused the callouses? The question seemed important for no other reason than he so desperately wanted to know.

Tilting his head back up, their eyes instantly snapped to one another’s. This time, Steve could clearly make out something akin to confusion swimming through flecks of deep greens and golds. He got the distinct impression that he was being asked some silent question he couldn’t possibly hope to answer.

He sent another shy smile the man’s way and then looked down again.

Bucky cleared his throat, and Steve suddenly had to close his eyes and pull in a slow, deep breath. The scent of cherries calmed over his nerves. He wanted to give the man some kind of warning, but Steve was pretty sure saying, “Sorry that my best friend is probably about to make the rest of this elevator ride miserable and uncomfortable for the both of us because he’s bored,” was grounds for ending whatever they were doing with their game of eye-tag. He found he really, really didn’t want that.

Steve raised his chin, watching the man immediately train his focus on Steve. An unsure smile crossed the man’s pink lips, and there was a startled quality to it. Like he wasn’t used to whatever it was that they were doing.

Sending the man a sheepish grin, Steve realized it was the only warning he was willing to risk.

“So who are you?” Bucky finally spoke up from behind Steve. He felt Bucky shift so that he was leaning around Steve’s own bulk to get a look at the man himself. There was an odd undercurrent to his words that only came about when Bucky sensed Steve liked the fella he was talking to.

The man’s eyes widened a fraction, and there was a sudden quirk to his lips that seemed bemused. Steve felt his knees go a little weak.

Tilting his head, the man’s eyes darted to Steve’s for a moment before returning to Bucky. “You don’t know?” he asked.

Steve shook his head, and Bucky let out an unimpressed grunt. “Sorry,” he told the man, shooting Bucky a glare. “Are we- um, should we? Know you, that is? Should we know you? It’s- I, uh, sorry. It’s our first day here.” He wanted to smack himself in the face. Stupid! he thought to himself.

The man turned back towards him, eyes searching his. Steve thought he could make out something soft in the look.

His skin heated up even more, and Steve knew the blush was definitely covering the back of his neck, now. Steve reached up, rubbing at it self-consciously. He’d always hated how obvious he was.

Clearing his throat, he looked up at the man even though Steve had almost a foot on him. “Sorry,” he said, voice quiet in the cool air around them.

The young man shifted from foot to foot as he stared up at Steve with wide eyes. He mimicked Steve’s posture by resting a hand on the back of his own neck, and Steve wondered if he’d realized he’d done that. A moment later, he seemed to, pulling it away and letting it land at his side with a gentle smack.

“No no,” he murmured, and glanced away only to glance back a second later. “It was a-a stupid, silly question to ask anyway. Should’t’ve…” He shook his head.

Steve opened his mouth to reply when Bucky cut in. “You some bigshot?” he questioned, barely avoiding Steve’s well-aimed elbow-shot towards his torso.

The man’s gaze left Steve’s in favor of Bucky, and Steve felt the instant loss. It was like the elevator had gotten colder somehow.

He seemed to eye Bucky with curiosity as well. “I suppose that would be up to who you ask. Are you some bigshot?” he retorted smoothly.

“Went to Columbia University and graduated top of our class,” Bucky said, a hint of pride there that was innocent enough. “Joined the army, did a couple tours. How ‘bout you? Where’d you go to school? Are you still in school? You look a little young to be working for Stark Industries.”

The man’s eyes flickered to Steve for a second. The look was similar to all the one’s he’d received whenever he mentioned he was a veteran. A mixture of pride and respect and honor Steve never felt he deserved. But this look was also vastly different. This look didn’t make Steve squirm in discomfort, and he felt a sense of pride wash over him. He liked the look in those eyes, and it made him proud that he’d been the one to put that there.

“I went to a private school out of state,” the man said, looking back to Bucky. “I doubt you’ve heard of it.” And a thrill shot through Steve when he watched the man’s long, lean fingers twist into a cross, black fingernails gleaming in the fluorescent lighting shining against titanium floors. A smile came to Steve’s lips, one of the most genuine ones he’d felt since coming back to the States. It was like he was in on some private joke, and he was suddenly aware that this man has no problem playing the game Bucky had set up for them.

“And you’re right. I don’t, well, I honestly don’t exactly work for S.I.” he said, phrasing it as an admittance.

Steve let the tenseness leave his shoulders. Whoever this man was, Steve could tell he had what it took to deal with Bucky. He even suspected the man might just come out on top.

It’d be nice, he thought wistfully. Bucky always had this tendency to get them into trouble with the combination of his mouth and his boredom. He never meant anything by it, and by the end of most of his escapades, Bucky had won himself two black eyes and three new friends.

Steve flashed back to the crouched posture and inability to walk after Bucky had first met and spoke to Natasha. Now the two were inseparable – Bucky was even starting to look at rings. But Bucky had this way about him, and a part of Steve thought it was a little unfair. Bucky could make friends with anyone at any time. He was the life of the party, and he knew how to play his cards exactly right to keep them out of any real trouble.

There was visible amusement in the man’s posture as he folded his arms and squinted up at Bucky. Steve worked harder to fight his smile. The upward bend of the man’s spine as he placed his hands firmly on his hips, a narrowed, challenging look on his face; Steve thought Natasha would adore this man. He looked like he was about to chastise a child.

Maybe he’s just as bored as Bucky, Steve thought.

“So what are you doing here, kid?” Bucky asked, smirking as his eyes went wide as if he was genuinely curious.

Around him, Steve heard the whirring of the elevator come to a stall. It slowed and came to a halt, the light above the doors stopping and blinking once, twice above the black letters of 23. The doors opened and both Bucky and the man looked towards them. Sounds of amused chatter reached Steve’s ears, and Bucky began to step out. Steve followed, glancing at the man as he passed. Those impossibly large and round brown eyes beamed up at him. Steve wondered if he was beaming back just as goofily.

When they stepped off, Bucky looked back towards the man with a raised brow. Steve twitched as the noise came to a quick stop. Everyone’s heads raised and pointing towards them.

Steve glanced back as well, watching the guy strut out, raising his head like a pleased cat who’d just killed its prey. He trotted past them, giving Bucky a smirk.

“Good morning, everyone!” he greeted cheerfully. “I’m sure you’re all wondering what I’m doing down here in the design team’s department, but Miss Potts has decided I need to work on my ‘human resource skills,’” he said, fingers coming up to add air quotes to his statement. “Thus, today's introduction of our two newest members of the Stark Industry’s Graphic Design Department.”

Intrigue buzzed through Steve’s mind the more the guy talked, shock beginning to course through him as he started putting pieces of the puzzle together.

Whirling around on his heal, the man held out his hand towards Bucky. “This is…” he paused, waiting.

“Uh,” Bucky grunted, shooting Steve a confused look.

But Steve got it, and the man did look vaguely familiar now that he thought about it. He could see the headlines that described the deaths of Maria and Howard Stark, and the picture of a very young boy trying to grieve his parents in peace. Hear the other soldiers rage and rant when they were told that the now young man had put a stop to his company’s weapons manufacturing after being kidnapped for three months. Could feel the pride and admiration for that decision when an S.I. bomb came barreling towards the Howling Commandos.

Because this was Tony Stark. The kid who’d grown up in the spotlight. The one Steve used to judge when he was younger until his mom had chastised him on the rudeness that came with his unwillingness to find understanding and empathy for someone he knew absolutely nothing about. The one who Steve had started to admire for his bravery and generosity and genius as he grew up. The one who Steve used to pray would end up okay because he’d thought he understood, then. Just a little.

“James Barnes,” Bucky eventually finished, turning back towards the man in the elevator. The man who’d asked, “You don’t know?”

“Barnes,” Tony Stark purred, turning back to face the room. “Mr. Barnes, here, is going to be our newest errand boy!” He clapped his hands excitedly, and there was a murmur of amused chuckles. Steve thought he saw a fist pump lowly in the air from a man sitting in the back of the room. A worry filled him as Steve thought of Bucky’s arm, but before he could say anything, Mr. Stark said, “Sorry, Gerry. You’re gonna have to stay on the team and help with some of the heavy lifting. Most of it, actually; don’t think I’ve forgotten what you said to me on your first day. Mr. Barnes!” he snapped. “I know you could probably bench press Gerry, here, but I need you to make him do most of the work, capisce? So, even though it’s your first day, I’m promoting you to Senior errand boy. But, you are still an errand boy, Mr. Columbia.”

And then there was that swelling in Steve’s chest, warm and dizzying and constricting his every breath. Mr. Stark turned to him, and Steve saw a minuscule, barely-there shift in the man’s eyes as he looked at Steve and asked a name.

Those eyes seemed to pin him in place, and Steve wondered, hoped, prayed, that the man with the beautiful brown eyes and breath-taking smile was just as struck as he was. A name. A name shouldn’t seem like such a monumental thing to give.

Somehow it was.

“Steve,” he said on an exhale, and he hoped his voice didn’t come out as breathless as it sounded to his own ears. “Steve Rogers.” And suddenly he could see their entire lives flashing before his eyes. He wanted to laugh; ever the hopeful romantic, Bucky and his ma would always say, but there was a realness to this strong pull tugging him towards the man a few small feet in front of him. Could see the flashes of a life he hadn’t had, yet, but as Steve watched scenes in his head the way a child looks at a stick figure flipbook, he wondered, How can it not be real? Each scene, each drawing, singular and captivating all combined to create this entire story of them. Two people who knew nothing about each other but knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that one day they’d know more than anyone else ever would.

Steve could see it. Could see waking up with an armful of long, thin limbs and slipping out from underneath a warm body and a couple covers to start the coffee machine and possibly get a run in before the day started and he’d be forced to part ways. Holding a trembling body as news reels spread something horrid and heartbreaking across millions of people’s screens. Being held in a tight embrace after a particularly difficult day where past and present blurred and left him practically incoherent. Watching television on the couch and ignoring all that extra room to the right. Making a mess of the kitchen, but coming out with an edible feast to announce to friends plans of moving in together. Looking for rings and hearing a yes to a question Steve couldn’t even finish because there was too much excitement. Standing in a tux and saying, “I do.” Playdates at Natasha’s and Bucky’s house because they had the pool. Looking at colleges and attending weddings as Fathers of the Groom and Bride. Two rickety old rocking chairs that Steve remembered from browned and torn photographs with now-softened edges holding a familiar couple sitting in each one, reaching across the distance to hold hands in the front of his childhood home. Chairs he would dig out from the storage unit he’d always refuse to give up because he could never bring himself to throw away his parent’s things. Sitting those chairs on a deck up in the mountains because it was time to escape the city and pass on legacies, and taking a similar picture to pass down to his kids.

In a manner of seconds, in flashes where Steve could practically taste the kisses, feel the skin beneath his hands, hear the laughter, see the crow’s feet… smell the cherries. Like a light, guiding him, calling him back home, and Steve was incapable of not following – he doubted there had even been much of a choice – because he hadn’t been home. Not in years, really. Not since his mom passed away.

“Steve,” Mr. Stark repeated, and Steve knew there was no way to mistake the odd softness to the tone. Said low in a way that made him wonder if anyone else heard it. Heard the way his name seemed to hitch over Mr. Stark’s tongue, and roll off ever so slowly. Steve wondered how his name tasted. If it was good. If Tony Stark liked saying it as much as Steve liked hearing it. Mr. Stark cleared his throat, turning haltingly to face the room again. “And if you’ll all be so kind as to show Mr. Rogers the ropes. I…” he cleared his throat again, peaking at Steve as he continued. “I hear he’s got more talent and dedication than most.”

Mr. Stark moved away, then, and Steve had to physically push down the urge to follow. He stared after the man nonetheless, ignoring the people walking up to greet and welcome them with kind smiles and heartfelt hellos.

Tony Stark turned back exactly once, locking his gaze on Steve’s on last time. Steve let the soothing warmth of rightness utterly inflate throughout his entire body, making his skin tingle. He could barely breathe past it. Then the eyes were gone, going downcast towards the floor as Mr. Stark reached the door. Steve caught the smile, though, curving over those rosy lips, the faint blush on olive cheeks.

The feeling continued to swell as the door swung closed.

A hand clapped Steve’s shoulder, and he startled at the reminder that there were other people in the room. Bucky was looking at him, eyes darting around Steve’s face for a sign of something.

Steve couldn’t help it. He let out a laugh, tossing his arm around Bucky’s shoulders. “You have to admit, he won that one. And you kind of deserved it,” Steve pointed out, feeling fond and exasperated and completely, utterly, insanely overjoyed all at once.

@->-- Alex Rogers-Stark --<-@

[tonystarkssnipples]

Here’s How It Happens

“I got my chance with him. Now it's your turn.” Pepper smiles, shaking and brittle, but honest. “Go love him.”

-or-

The fic where Steve uses time travel to go back and relive his life with Tony.

Read on AO3

[marvelship-oneshots]

I'M IN LOVE WITH MY ROOMMATE

Hi! Very long time no see! I (finally) started writing again, so here I am with my fourth fill for the@rollingstonys Stony Trope and AU bingo! Enjoy my take for the Roommate AU! AU where Steve and Tony find themselves sharing a room in college but they don't actually get along at first. [2.3k words]

Tony’s last year of college didn't start in the best of ways. His parents’ business was bankrupt and his parents had suggested they start living a more “average” life. This meant that, although his MIT tuition was secure, he would have to share a room in the dorms like any other average student. the thing was that Tony Stark wasn’t average. He lived in an enormous penthouse in the centre of Boston with his best friends and was famous for hosting extravagant parties in said penthouse. Tony was not someone who shared a dorm room with a stranger, but at that point, he didn’t have any choice.

Tony moved the heavy box full of robotics with his feet while he was carrying another one in his arms into room 336. He closed the door shut and took a moment to look around. That was going to be his house for the next year. It was so excessively…brown. And dark. But he didn’t mind the darkness, he worked better when the light was off. He noticed that his roommate hadn’t claimed one side of the room yet so he made himself comfortable and spread all of his belongings all over the left side of the room. Tony plugged in the coffee machine and started looking through his boxes for the blueprints for his latest project. He spread all of his stuff on the table, completely disregarding his clothes that needed folding and his bedding that needed to actually be put on the bed. Tony reached for his headphones in his pocket and started playing his rock playlist and got to work. It could have been hours or days since he started working and all he got in his system was coffee and some Mars bars. The music was blasting in Tony’s ears, probably too loud to be safe, and he was humming along his favourite song.

Steve could hear a voice singing from outside his room. He immediately thought that it was going to be a fun year with his singing roommate. It was his first year of college and the first time he ever left New York. He was excited about this new chapter of his life. He had been looking forward to going to college since high school. Steve opened the door, excited to meet his roommate. The room was mostly dark, the only light was coming from the desk on the left side of the room. His roommate was bent over the desk singing, screaming actually, along “Highway to Hell”. “Hi?” Steve screamed over the guy’s voice. Tony was so focused on his work and his song that he didn't hear the door opening or the voice of the guy who greeted him, or a least tried to. Steve walked over to the desk where the roommate was still focused on his work. “Hi, I’m Steve,” he said, putting his hand on the brunet’s shoulder, trying to get his attention. Tony felt an unknown hand on his shoulder and he stood up, hitting the guy in the face. Steve brought his hand to his face and Tony stopped the music after he realised that maybe the guy was his future roommate. “Oh my god, oh my god, I’m so so sorry” Steve sat on the closest bed, holding a hand on his nose. “Don’t worry, I scared you” he giggled. “Here, let me look at it” Tony moved Steve’s hand from his face. His nose and cheek were just a bit red and not too swollen. “I’m Tony and I’m so incredibly sorry” Tony held his hand in front of him. Steve looked at Tony for the first time. He wasn’t really tall but his chest was toned. The beard made him look much older than Steve but from his eyes shined a much younger light. Steve got up and shook Tony’s hand. “I’m Steve, nice to meet you,” he said with a big smile. Tony looked at him from head to toe, savouring the view of his broad shoulders and toned chest wrapped in a t-shirt a few sized too small. He could only, gladly, imagine what is hidden underneath. “I hope- Tony cleared his voice that came across way too high-pitched- I hope me slapping you won’t prevent us from uhm, becoming friends,” Tony said, in a questioning tone scratching the back of his head. “I won’t hold it over your head, don’t worry,” Steve replied chuckling. Steve and Tony didn’t become friends. They tried tho, but it just didn’t happen. Christmas holidays were approaching and the first term had come to an end. Three months they had spent in the same room, trying to, at least, coexists, but it just didn’t work out. And it’s not that they hadn’t tried. They did, Steve more than Tony and at some point, he got tired of being the only one to put some effort. Truth was, they couldn't be any more different. Steve’s part of the room was always tidy and spotlessly clean and all of his belongings were in drawers while Tony’s half was, well, the polar opposite. His clothes were all over the floor and the project he was working on covered the whole desk, and at some point, it invaded Steve’s desk as well and Tony was definitely not willing to tide up. Tony agreed to keep the floor clean enough for Steve to walk to the toilet without stepping on Tony’s clothes in exchange for Steve’s desk. Too bad that two days after the agreement was made, the neutral corridor was full of Tony’s clothes, again. After that, Steve was forced to divide the room with colourful tape. And it was not only the clothes incident that created bad blood between the two, it was the way Tony behaved that sooner rather than later, started to get on Steve’s nerves. In Tony’s defence, he’s never shared a room with anyone other than his robotic arm named Dum-e. But Dum-e didn’t really have the ability to complain about Tony’s unhealthy life choices. Christmas break came and, much to their despair, Steve and Tony learnt that they would have to spend Christmas break together. Tony’s parents were out on their annual Christmas trip. We’re broke because of you yet I am the one sharing the room with Mr. goody-two-shoes over here, this is what Tony yelled at his parents on the phone when they told him that

he would have to spend Christmas alone. Steve might or might not have overheard his phone call and that made telling Tony that he was going to stay at the dorm for Christmas even more tedious. So there they were, spaning Christmas in a half-decorated room. On his side, Steve put up a small Christmas tree, a stocking with his name and colourful lights. Tony’s side, however, was still the same pigsty that had been for the last three months. Christmas Eve was uneventful, to say the least. Steve spent it on his bed, catching up with some reading. Tony was…Steve didn’t know where Tony was and he frankly didn’t care. It didn’t take long for Steve to figure out where Tony spent his day. Around 3 am Tony stumbled into the room drunk and smelling like alcohol. The noise he made trying to open the door and consequently falling face first, tripping over his own two feet, woke Steve up. He looked at Tony curled on himself on the floor and finally decided to get out of bed to help him, mostly because he didn’t want to trip over him the next morning. “C’mon, up we go” Steve helped a growling Tony to stand up and lead the way to Tony’s bed. “Let’s go to bed, uh Tony?” Steve proposed in a sleepy voice. And then the inevitable happened. Tony knew it was going to happen sooner or later and if it hadn’t been the middle of the night, Steve would have been bent in two fro laughing too hard at Tony tripping over his pile of clothes and dragging them both down. Before Steve knew it, Tony was laid on his, with his head snuggled between Steve’s pecs. “I guess we’re staying here then” Steve pulled one pillow from Tony’s bed and made himself comfortable, or as comfortable one can be on the floor with another person laying over them. Truth was, if Steve wanted, he could have easily pushed Tony away and gone to his own bed. But he didn’t want to. He had wanted to have Tony laying over him since he got punched in the face by the firey brunet. Steve kissed Tony’s head, breathing in his…interesting smell. Whiskey and weed was definitely not what he had thought Tony smelled like. After the Christmas Eve incident, Steve and Tony grew closer. They weren’t exactly friends, but at least they spoke to each other. And Tony cleared the floor from his clothes. He even left a bit of space on Steve’s desks, which was still not enough for Steve to do some actual work on, but it was a good start. Steve came back in the room to a singing Tony and he was not surprised. “Tony I’m back” he screamed as he, loudly, shut the door before he walked over to Tony’s desk. He learnt his lesson and he surely didn’t want to be punched in the face, again. Steve slid a takeout box from the canteen across the desk. “I’m pretty sure I didn’t order room service” Tony shouted over the music. Steve took Tony’s headphones off and sat next to the brunet. “You need to eat something” Tony rolled his eyes. “And before you say anything, no, coffee doesn’t count” Tony opened the white container, deep down, he was grateful to have found a Steve to, more or less, take care of him. “Also, do you know that you always sing very loudly when you have your headphones on, right?” “No, I don’t” Steve took his phone from his pockets and showed him a video he took a couple of days before. Tony was shouting along one of his rock songs and Steve was trying to hold his laugh. “Tony?” Steve walked out of the tiny bathroom with his towel wrapped around his waist. “What are you doing up? This is usually the time you go to bed.” Steve looked at the clothes that were, once again, all over the floor. “And why are all your shirts pink?” he asked, trying to contain a laugh. “I do not always go to bed at this time thank you very much, and, unfortunately, I have to meet my parents today” “This doesn’t explain the pink shirts tho” “Very funny Stevie. I tried to do the laundry if you must know” At this point, Steve was still topless, sitting on Tony’s be, looking at him go through every single piece of clothing in his wardrobe. “You know you are supposed to separate the whites from

coloured stuff, right?” “Now I do” If Tony stopped pacing up and down the room and stopped long enough to glaze at Steve, he would have been pleasantly surprised. Steve was sat on his bed, without a t-shirt on and covered only by a small, easily removable towel. Since they started talking again, Tony often thought about having a nearly naked Steve in his bed and now that he was nearly naked in his bed, Tony hadn’t even noticed. “You can borrow one of mine if you need to” Steve hinted and Tony finally looked up from the drawer. He stared at Steve with his mouth open and gulped before nodding, without looking away from Steve’s firm abs. Steve handed Tony one of his white shirts. Tony tried it on and it was, obviously, too big for him. “I don’t think it fits” Tony replied, pouting. His hands were hidden by the long sleeve of the shirt and his red boxers, which Steve imagined were the cause of the pink laundry, were covered by the shirt, showing only Tony’s legs, much to Steve’s pleasure. “I think you look good,” Steve whispered, walking closer to Tony. Tony bit his lip without breaking eye contact. “You think?” he whispered back. Steve nodded, putting his hands on Tony’s waist. He sat on the bed, dragging Tony with him. Tony was sitting on Steve’s lap, with his arm around Steve’s neck. “I do, but I think you would look better without it, tho” Steve whispered in Tony’s ear before gently biting his lobe. And before they knew it, their lips met. Without parting, Tony shifted over Steve, putting his knees at the sides of Steve’s hips before slowly starting to move over him in small circles. He smiled when he felt Steve getting progressively harder under him. “I know what you’re doing, you cheeky little thing” “I don’t know what you’re talking about” Tony replied, before moving his mouth to the neck and starting to gently suck Steve’s pale skin. Steve’s hands moved to Tony’s ass and squeezed lightly, making Tony softly moan. “Steve?” Tony panted. “I have to go,” he said before getting up to pick up a new outfit for the meeting with his parents. he ended up wearing a pair of dark jeans, the least pink long-sleeved t-shirt he could find and a dark Black Sabbath t-shirt. “Does this look fine?” he asked Steve while fixing his hair. “I still think you’d look better without” Steve replied hugging Tony from behind and putting his chin on Tony’s shoulder. “Do you really really have to go?” Steve asked pulling him closer. Tony nodded. “Yes, but if you’re a good boy we can continue when I get back” Tony managed to turn in Steve’s arms and was now facing the blond. “You promise?” Tony nodded, gently kissing Steve’s nose. “Mh yes, now can you please let me go?” Steve pouted and waited for Tony to kiss his red lips before setting him free from the tight embrace. “See you later baby” Steve shouted before Tony closed the door, blowing him a kiss with a huge smile.

[vindemiatrix-moonpies]

Les Retrouvailles

[“Um… Mister Stark?”

That voice. Even after all this time, he recognized that voice. Tony turned around, expecting to see a slight man who’d never quite grown into his frame. Instead, polished buttons and gold medals decorated a wide chest where Steve’s head should be. Tony looked up to a height Steve could never reach, and yet there he was. Blue eyes sparkling like sapphires on a priceless crown, framed with golden hair as rich and as luxurious as the threads on Tony’s jacket. He had the strong jaw of a well-bred man, and yet he retained that same boyish smile Tony remembered from years ago. As if their time apart had never happened.]

- excerpt from the fic written by Miniraven for PotS's 2021Flash Bang

I had such a great time working on this piece. Thank you so much to Raven for being such a enthusiastic and attentive partner! Raven also gave me some insights on the paneling for this.

Please go check out the fic, it's a Regency AU! I repeat, REGENCY AU! Give an applause and love to Raven!

[dirigibleplumbing]

Perception Check

Fandom: Avengers Academy Pairings: Steve/Tony, Rhodey/Carol Rating: G

Tags: Characters Playing Dungeons and Dragons, JARVIS is Dungeon Master, Tony's cheese fridge, Oblivious Steve and Tony, Getting Together, Fluff and Humor, Happy Ending, POV Outsider

For the @stevetonyzine.

Summary: Annoyed by Tony's obnoxious wingman efforts to help Jim spend more time with Carol, Jim retaliates by inviting Steve to join Tony's ongoing Dungeons and Dragons campaign.

Now he has to endure their weird oblivious courtship rituals—like the fact that Tony plays a homebrew monk who uses a ricocheting round shield and Steve plays a modified artificer with a flying suit of armor. And neither of them has noticed.

At least there's always a good spread of cheese, crackers, and canapés…

read the fic on ao3

[publisher021]

Hi everyone!

Recently I've been having trouble with my job (not enough work for a freelancer such as myself) and as an art student (Graphic Design for be more specific) it's a little difficult to make ends meet. Not only is my field kinda expensive, but I'm constantly purchasing new supplies and softwares because of my field of study.

I'm currently saving up to buy a new drawing tablet and whatever savings I do have keeps on getting put to use somewhere else – simply because something new crops up each time I think I have enough to purchase my drawing tablet.

If you have a spare dollar or two, and you're willing to donate, please send it my way!

I'm willing to write short Stony prompts (I'll put up a list of prompts to choose from) and you can commission me.

Thank you in advance! Your support means everything to me!

[irontinystar]

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

Stevetony, fluff, established relationship, 1,211 words

“You’re gonna get a sunstroke” the voice startles him a little, and Steve half opens his eyes despite the blinding sunlight.

He frowns and takes in the sight of Tony approaching him, a red swimwear on and a bare bronze chest. Steve smiles and props himself on his elbows over the beach towel on which he was sunbathing just a moment before.

They decided to take a free weekend just for the two of them, and flied to the French Riviera, trying to find some peace after straining missions.

“You better put some sunscreen on” Tony warns, stopping next to him. He’s standing right, so Steve has to raise his chin and cover his eyes from the sun with his hand.

“Yeah?” Steve says, hiding the hint of a smile.

At that Tony narrows his eyes. “I think the red looks great on the flag, but on your chest? A little less” he snorts.

Steve nods holding in a chuckle. He can’t help but find it adorable when Tony worries about him. It’s usually the other way round- Steve gets to press him to go get some sleep when it’s already dawn, or just take a break from work, so to witness Tony being a mother hen is something that undoubtedly warms his heart.

“Steven Grant Rogers, I’m being serious here” Tony scolds him. “I don’t want you to get a first-degree burnt just because you’re too stubborn to put suncream on” he goes on, resting a hand on one hip as a sign of reproach.

Steve can’t help but giggle at that, still looking up at Tony. “I would have put it on” he states. “But, you know, it’s difficult to do that on my own” he complains with an innocent tone, hoping Tony will take the hint.

And indeed Tony rolls his eyes groaning loudly. “Fine” he scoffs. “I’ll help you.”

He kneels on the beach towel bubbling in fake annoyance, and Steve chuckles at that once again.

“Come here” he offers nodding at his lap, and Tony raises an eyebrow.

“Babe, we’re not teenagers anymore” he points out shaking his head with a smile.

Steve grins while shrugging. “It’s easier this way” he just explains.

Tony sighs another time, but complies to Steve’s request and puts a leg to the other side of his hips so to straddle his waist.

“Is it okay like this?” Tony asks with a tone of impatience, like a parent would do with his bratty kid.

Steve nods with satisfaction. “Perfect” he assures.

Tony rolls his eyes once again, and with a smile he pours some cream on one hand, before covering Steve’s chest with it, applying the sunscreen on his pale abs.

Steve looks at him still propped on his elbows and smiles widely. He loves looking at Tony when he’s not looking back, too focused on what he’s doing, spreading the cream like it’s a matter of life or death, covering every inch of Steve’s white skin, too scared to leave out some of it. He can’t help but soften his look when Tony frowns by himself, sticks his tongue out just a tiny bit, squeezes some more cream and proceeds to apply it over again. He looks at Tony’s tanned chest, at his muscled but slim arms, his lean neck and how his nose is scrunched because he’s keeping all his attention on Steve’s chest.

“That’s it” Tony mumbles, and there is just so much grace and affection in the way he caresses his stomach that Steve would like to stay like this for the rest of his days, feeling the comforting weight of Tony’s body on his lap, the featherlike touch of his fingers all along his skin. And never ever come back.

“Baby” Steve calls at that point. Tony turns up his head to look at him, wonder in his huge and bright eyes, his brows narrowed with question. “You know that I cannot get a sunburnt, right? The Serum takes care of that. I don’t even get a tan” Steve says carefully, once again holding in a laughter, chewing the inside of his cheek not to chuckle at Tony’s growing realisation.

“What?” he baffles, and his mouth falls open. “But- Then- Why-” he blurts again, his eyes wandering from the sunscreen tube tossed aside, to his hands and Steve’s chest covered in lotion.

Steve giggles out loud. “You seemed to be really interested in creaming me up” he points out, but Tony is making a lot of faces, most of them portraying outrage.

“Captain Rogers” he calls with a high pitched tone. “Did you really just take advantage of me? An innocent soul just wanting to prevent you from getting a sunburnt-“ he doesn’t even ends his little show of humiliated complaints that Steve bends his knees a little, making Tony lose his balance and fall over him, chest plastered to his own.

He laughs again, while Tony tries to stand up, but Steve puts his arms around his waist, so that he cannot move anymore.

“That’s not very gentlemanlike” Tony whines, and Steve smiles smugly.

“What can I say?” he pretends to mumble. “You bring out the naughty side of me.”

Tony rolls his eyes but he’s grinning too, playing a little with Steve’s blond hair. “I’m too old for this kind of things, honey” Tony murmurs with a sweet voice. He fixes his eyes on Steve’s curls, tries to keep his voice light, but Steve can still trace a wave of self-loathe in it.

Steve twirls his nose. “Meh” he shrugs. “I’m a centenarian, so I’m taking the ‘Too Old For This’ prize.”

Tony scoffs, smiling softly.

“I’ll never get tired of you” Steve lets himself slip out, and he’s not even sorry for the earnestness of it. He has never been that good with words, and it’s kind of scary for him to express his feelings out loud, but it’s something he’s gladly willing to change for Tony. He really wants the man to know how much he’s loved.

Tony cocks his head, the corners of his lips curled with another smile. Steve looks at him, and his breath gets caught in his throat as usual. He’s just so beautiful.

“Plus, an old person wouldn’t smear himself with sunscreen like a child” he scoffs, reaching up with his hand to wipe away a streak of cream on Tony’s cheek. He brushes his thumb over it and watches with delight as Tony scrunches his nose at that.

“Maybe I should let you get some sunshine now” Tony bubbles trying to stand up again, but Steve wraps his arms a little tighter.

“Nah-ah” he whines. “You’re the only sunshine I want” he states nosing into the crook of Tony’s neck, and he can sense his chuckle on his skin.

“That was really sappy, sweetheart” Tony laughs, but there is fondness in his voice, and Steve smiles over his collarbones.

“You’re right” he concedes. “But stay here anyway.”

Tony sighs theatrically, but he shifts a little over Steve’s chest, so that they’re both laying on the beach towel in a more comfortable position. Steve grins triumphantly, caressing Tony’s back in a soothing way.

Tony smiles at him, before murmuring, “I’m not going anywhere.”

[cherryblossomsmist]

Did Steve and Tony ever come back to stay at Mrs. Jasper’s for a proper vacation?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/4083550

Yes, for sure! It's always been in my head that they do come back and stay for a proper vacation. Steve is thrilled and goes ahead and gets himself super sunburned on the beach, and Tony has to force himself not to do work at first, but then he starts really enjoying it (Steve distracts him with a lot of sex to start, and it works like a charm).

[stevetonysbitch]

Never too much

Steve thought that after they finally got together he would stop wanting to kiss Tony all the time.

He was wrong. So wrong. It somehow made him want to kiss Tony even more because now he knew he could so why wouldn't he?

And he couldn't just kiss him once, he couldn't just press his lips against Tony's once and go away. He had to give Tony many kisses, all over his face, he did that absently and Tony never seemed to mind it.

A good morning kiss would be a light kiss on his lips and then in his messy curls that Steve found absolutely adorable with his face all marked up from the messy sheets.

For a good night kiss, Steve would kiss his cheeks, a kiss that lingers while he breathed Tony in, feeling him right there, close to him, alive and well ( he needed that reassurance constantly).

And Steve would not kiss only Tony's face but also his knuckles, the palm of his hands, inside his wrists, his neck and everywhere he could reach. (He also loved to kiss inside Tony's thighs whenever they made love. It's a soft spot for Tony it makes him shiver and produce those little noises Steve loved so much and turned him on a lot ).

Making out with Tony was so perfect to him, they would kiss and let their hands explore each other's bodies but also look at each other when they needed to break apart for air. Just staring at Tony's brown eyes made Steve weak in his legs with Tony's hands over his face tracing his lines.

There's also kisses for each occasion for example when Tony is feeling sick he gets a lot of forehead kisses and very tight hugs that can practically heal any headaches and sore throats. Maybe Steve loves to kiss Tony a lot sue him, he's a man in love. But what Steve had never noticed is that he gets as many kisses as he gives and right now it's when he realizes that. Right now, after having a very terrifying nightmare, Tony's holding him close and whispering sweet things to him to calm him down and between every word, he gets a kiss. Instead of thinking about crashing a plane into the ocean he's thinking about how soft Tony's lips are and how much he loves his voice, he could hear Tony talking for the rest of his life, how incredibly beautiful his name sounded coming from the burnett's lips, he decided to hold on to that.

When he stopped shaking his love asked " are you better, honey? Do you need anything else? Want me to go grab another blanket? Cuz I can do that you know what I'm just gonna-"

"It's fine sweetheart" Steve said softly "I don't need a blanket I have you right here"  that made Tony smile softly. At the very beginning of their relationship, everytime Steve said sweet things like that Tony would brush it off with a sarcastic comment or a funny joke. But he knows Steve means it. Every word. And now he just smiles and kiss him.

Waking up with the sight of a sleeping Tony is one of the things Steve can never get tired of. He's so beautiful like this and today Steve decided not to go on his morning run. Instead, he would be right here in bed with Tony for as long as he can ( also it's a Saturday and he knows Tony has no meetings today). The soldier turned his face to watch his fella asleep, kissed his hair and cuddled closer. He wasn't going anywhere.

[musicalluna]

disaster duo

i think this was for last last year’s birthday and I’M VERY SORRY. but here’s an unbirthday fic @flange5 i wanted to make you something super good so this took me 1230948302 years. i hope you like it even if it’s not super good. ily!!

--

The sound of Steve's voice coming down the hall from the kitchen is enough to make Tony's heart jump a little higher in his chest. He feels himself start to bounce with each step and mentally covers his face. God, he's embarrassing.

“I know I'm probably putting my foot in it, but I don't know who else to ask.”

“Did someone tell you you were doing that?”

Ah, Pepper. Pepper is a good person for Steve to ask things. She's far too used to Tony to bat an eye at anything Steve might ask.

“I've been told I have no idea how to talk to women.”

Pepper laughs and covers up Tony's snort of amusement. He buys that without needing to be sold. “Well, why don't you ask me and I'll help you remove it if it gets wedged in there.”

“It's...a little personal,” Steve warns, an edge of shyness creeping into his voice.

Tony pauses outside the kitchen door, curiosity piqued.

“Well, that's all right,” Pepper says, a warm smile in her voice. “I like to think we're friends.”

“You do?” Steve says and then goes quiet so fast Tony knows he's turning beet red.

“Oh, Steve, yes. Absolutely.”

“Then I guess that makes my question a little less out of line,” Steve says. His voice is doing that uncertain, self-depreciating thing that does things to Tony.

“Hmm,” Pepper says thoughtfully. “Well, we'll never know if you don't spit it out.”

There's a brief pause and then, rushed: “I want to go on a date.”

–

Tony steps backward without a conscious thought, his heart plunging to his toes.

“Oh,” he hears Pepper say, surprise thick in her voice. Clearly she hadn't realized either, that Steve—that Steve was interested. In her.

Tony's hand comes up to rub at the arc reactor, which suddenly feels like it's being twisted agonizingly in his chest. Steve's interested in Pepper. Of course. Why wouldn't he be? Pepper's…Pepper, and, okay, wow, Tony had gotten his hopes up higher than he thought.

Stumbling back down the hall, he barely hears himself mutter, “Hey,” as he passes Natasha. Tony thinks she says his name, but he doesn't answer, doesn't stop, just numbly makes his way back to his room and shuts the door behind him.

His best friend-cum-crush and his ex.

That's fine. That's great. If it makes Steve happy—

Tony makes a noise, a horrible, wounded noise, and presses his back to the door, sinking down to curl up against it on the floor. It feels like the reactor's been torn out of his chest, hollow and empty and excruciating.

Steve is one of his best friends. That should be enough. It should be enough that Steve is there in the wee hours of the morning when Tony's staring down a bottle and it should be enough to see his smile, limned in blue in the workshop when Tony's showing him his latest work, it should be enough when Steve slumps sideways into Tony's shoulder on movie nights, but it's not, it's not, Tony can't stand the thought of seeing Steve with someone else. Even someone like Pepper.

Maybe more because it's someone like Pepper. At least if he didn't know them he could hate them.

His tears are hot as they streak down his cheeks, tickling as they slip into his beard and Tony burns with mortification. Steve was never his to begin with because he'd been too much of a pansy to say anything and now—

Tony buries his face against his knees, smearing snot and tears on his jeans. His breath is coming in sharp, shuddering waves that hurt down into his gut.

How much false hope had he built up that it hurts this badly?

Whatever.

It doesn't matter. He'll let himself grieve until he's sick with it and then he'll be fine. He'll be okay with being Steve's best friend and giving him advice on how to be less awkward for Pepper in a few days.

Tony presses a hand over his mouth, throat working convulsively.

Okay, maybe a week.

But Steve deserves this, to be happy, to have someone who enjoys art the way he does, and who told Tony that they couldn't date anymore because she couldn't be Iron Man's mistress.

Oh, god.

So now she's going to be Captain America's mistress. It's just him she can't stand by—bullshit, the reasonable part of Tony's brain spits. The only person who's stood by him longer is Rhodey.

Then—what if she turns him down?

Tony hates himself for the wave of cool relief that washes through him at the idea. She'll break Steve's heart and...the thought makes Tony's stomach turn.

Why can't Steve be in love with him? He'd work so hard to make Steve happy. He wants to say that's all he wants, but he doesn't want to see Steve happy with someone else. Thinking about it makes him feel cut open. He wants Steve happy with him.

Too bad, he thinks, letting his head fall back with a thunk against the door and feeling his sinuses start to drain.

Steve wants to be happy with someone else.

–

Tony doesn't come out of his room for two days.

He tells Pepper he's sick and he must sound pretty awful because she just says, with a faint air of concern, “Okay, Tony. Let me know if you need anything.”

The part of him that's still in love with her—that will probably always still be in love with her—aches.

When he finally emerges, he's showered and put on fresh clothes and he's cried long and hard enough that he can put the masks up.

His resolve is immediately tested, because he nearly runs into Steve in the hall.

“Tony!” he exclaims and then his brow dips, mouth pulling into a frown. His gaze sweeps over Tony from head to toe and Tony very carefully reins in the urge to build something from that look. “Are you okay? Pepper said you were feeling under the weather.”

Tony pulls on a smile. “Yeah, caught a little something, but I'm all good now. Just needed some rest.”

Steve's expression softens and warms, piercing Tony through like a shard of glass. “Good. Glad to hear it. Say, speaking of Pepper—”

Tony freezes, smile fixed on his face. Jesus, already?

“I'd like to get Pepper a gift. Do you think you could recommend something?”

“Sure,” Tony says stiffly. “Why don't you get her a massage? That's—” He can't make himself say 'romantic'.

Steve's expression flickers. “Really? You don't think that's—well, you know her best.”

“Yep.” Tony's very proud of the fact that he doesn't scream or otherwise do something unreasonable.

Steve smiles at him, Sunday morning sunshine, and Tony dies a little inside. “Thanks, Tony. I appreciate it. Feel better, okay?”

“Do my best,” Tony croaks and Steve moves past him.

After a moment, Tony coaxes stiff joints into movement and heads down to the workshop.

A distraction, that's what he needs.

–

The distraction doesn't work.

Tony's pulled up at least half a dozen different projects he's been neglecting, but all he can think about is Steve going to get Pepper a gift. Are they already dating then? Like, in an official capacity? They’re at the point where Steve is getting her gifts?

Dammit.

–

The next week is like a waking nightmare.

Tony can’t focus on anything he’s supposed to; all he can think about is Steve and Pepper. Steve keeps checking on Tony, giving him these worried looks. Every time he looks like he wants to say something, but decides better of it. Tony can’t help but be grateful, he doesn’t want to hear about how Steve feels about Pepper—it was bad enough listening to him talk about Peggy and she’s been dead for three years. Christ, he’s a piece of work.

It can’t last though. Steve finally says, “Hey, Tony, can I talk to you?” one morning in between sparring. Tony isn’t even coming close to holding his own—he’s too distracted.

He chews his lip and nods. “Sure thing.”

They move over to the little set of bleachers on the side of the room and Tony sits down, deliberately occupying himself with drinking from his water bottle. Steve sips out of his own, pacing in front of him. He’s wound up for some reason.

Steve blows out a breath. “I talked to Pepper and she said I should just talk to you.”

Tony’s stomach drops out his ass. He swallows hard, barely managing to keep from choking on the water halfway down his throat. Oh god. Pepper knows, of course she knows, and she told Steve oh god.

“Look,” he blurts, “my feelings don’t matter. I’ll get over it, I’m used to it. Just—don’t tell me what you and Pepper are getting up to on dates and for crying out loud, don’t ask me for anymore gift ideas.”

Steve stops, back going stiff, and then turns to stare at Tony. “What Pepper and I get up to on dates—” His eyes go wide. “Tony, no!”

“What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“Tony, I’m not dating Pepper! She’s great, don’t get me wrong. I gave her that gift as a thank you for giving me advice about how to ask you out.”

Tony feels like Steve just cold-cocked him. “What? You asked her on a date! I heard you!”

Steve puts one hand on his hip, pressing the knuckles of the other to his forehead. “That’s what you thought?” His head comes up with a jolt. “You told me to get her a massage!” He turns bright red. “I thought that seemed strange, but I don’t know enough about the 21st century to know for sure.”

“I thought you were trying to give her a romantic gift!”

“That explains her face when I gave it to her.” Steve groans.

Tentatively, because he still can’t believe what he’s hearing, Tony says, “You were asking for her advice on me?”

Steve softens and he smiles the crooked, self-depreciating smile that gets Tony every time. “I don’t exactly have a good history with these things and all the experience I do have is with women. A woman,” he amends.

“Oh my god,” Tony says faintly. “I had a meltdown for nothing.”

Steve rubs the back of his head. “Guess I’m hopeless even with help.”

Tony holds out his hands, hope and happiness rising inside him like a warm tide. “Lucky for you, I’m into that.”

Steve huffs and gingerly puts his hands in Tony’s, his smile solidifying a little when Tony squeezes them and pulls him closer. “So...do you want to go on a date with me?”

Tony pulls him in until he can press his forehead to Steve’s, and he grins, all but bubbling over with euphoria. “Absolutely, I do.”

Steve beams at him.

“Oh, and Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“We are never telling anyone about this. Ever.”

“Agreed.”