Chapter Text
16. Tony and Steve get together like this:
It’s a lazy Sunday afternoon and everyone else is out shopping because Thor has finally admitted he only owns the one outfit and that will just not stand.
Steve stays behind because he is waiting for a package from Amazon.com and he had to be there to sign for it. Tony stays because he hasn’t showered since the day before and no one wants to wait for him to complete his elaborate grooming rituals. So they are sitting on the couch watching the Winter Olympics while Tony tries to explain the point of Curling to Steve, who is only skeptical and increasingly distracted by the shape of Tony’s mouth, by the motion of his hands.
Then somehow they’re kissing and that’s pretty all right. Steve likes it. Likes the rasp of Tony’s beard, the taste of cider on his tongue, Tony’s arm around the back of his neck dragging him down onto the sofa.
They never see the end of the game, but that’s okay. Steve really didn’t really care about the program to begin with. It isn’t until the doorbell rings while Tony’s fumbling at Steve’s belt and Steve is tugging Tony’s shirt over his head that either of them remember that they’re technically in a public (semi-public) area.
Steve signs for his package, proud of the fact that he manages not to blush, and then drags Tony into his room because he’s wanted to see the other man tangled in white sheets turned pale blue by the light of the arc reactor.
Later they talk in quiet voices sprawled on the couch while watching a hockey game with Tony leaned back against Steve’s chest. Steve is rapidly developing a habit of sliding one hand up under Tony’s shirt to cover the arc reactor with the broad plane of his palm. Tony squirms at first, but settles down. Relaxes even.
“No one much likes touching it.” He shrugs. “If they get to see it at all. Pep never quite forgave me for the time she had to replace it.”
“Hmmm.” Is all Steve says. The arc reactor is often on his mind. He’s a tactician. He can’t help it and sometimes that means his nightmares include EMP grenades along with ice and pitch black water.
They’re still like that when the team arrives home.
Hawkeye is the first to arrive through the door. He looks at them, looks at Steve’s hand up Tony’s shirt, and then turns his head and shouts over his shoulder. “NAT OWES ME FIFTY BUCKS.”
“Shut up!” Comes her reply from somewhere down the hall. “I do not! It’s still the four o’clock for another ten minutes!”
“And that means you both owe me forty.” Coulson interjects smoothly, slipping out of his sleek black coat. He stops and glances up at the ceiling. “Unless… JARVIS?”
“I’m afraid Doctor Banner has taken the pot, Agent Coulson.” The AI replies, not unkindly. “Captain Rogers initiated things at 3:15, which took place during his block of time.”
“Excellent.” Bruce says as he toes his shoes off at the entrance. “ Everyone owes me thirty dollars. I’m going to use it to order sushi, so write down your orders on the pad by the phone.” He smiles at Tony who gives him the thumbs up and Steve, who is hiding his face behind Tony’s shoulder. “Congratulations, you two. It’s about time.”