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Thor had already settled the tab -- with the place being called Valhalla's Bar, it seemed like drinks were always on the house for him and his pals -- and left, so now it was just Steve and Tony, and Tony was too nice to admit it, but Steve could see him glancing around the room a little more and clutching his glass a little tighter as he looked at the knots of day-drinkers here and there.
Thor had picked the place too, and Steve supposed it was better than what he would have picked, since he hadn't wanted to pick anything at all, the first time they met here, but it wasn't like the team right now had anywhere else to go. There was no mansion left, and if Tony had had space to spare at Washington Square Park he would have said, but Steve couldn't blame him for not wanting to get his brand-new company crushed by Celestials... or whatever else was coming down the pike next.
So they were here at this damn bar once again when, for Tony's sake, they really needed to be anywhere else.
Steve found himself remembering the mess with the Kree Supreme Intelligence, how Tony had tracked him down in a bar to apologize. He wasn't about to put Tony through that again. Any of that.
"Hey," Steve said. "You want to get out of here?"
Tony smiled. "Sure."
It was a bright spring day when they stepped outside; it was blustery, and Tony took a staggering step sideways, pushed by the wind, bumping against Steve. It could have been a coincidence; God knew that with anyone else, these days, it would have been. But Tony leaned into him just a little too hard when Steve put his arm around him to steady him. Steve shivered in a way that had nothing to do with the wind.
They broke apart. An apology lay poised on Steve's lips, but then Tony looked at him, something hot and knowing in his gaze, and Steve thought, stupidly, oh.
He wants me.
The second thought, of course, was I don't deserve this.
It was funny how he'd never understood, before, when Tony had said that about himself.
Tony's mouth creased, curved nervously, like paper being folded, and his eyes sparkled as he did. A private smile, for him -- not any of the looks he'd give the paparazzi.
"You want to come back to my place?" Tony murmured.
Ten years. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. He'd destroyed Las Vegas. He didn't get a reward.
He'd always thought that maybe, maybe someday -- but not now. Not after Hydra.
"Are you serious?"
Tony rallied, drawing himself up. "Yeah," he whispered. "Yeah, I am."
The offer felt like catching a live grenade. He could feel the potential of it ticking away, not knowing how to tell Tony that this could be a mistake, that he could be a mistake, that no one in his right mind wanted to hitch his wagon to a man with the Hydra Supreme Leader's face.
Steve's chest was hollow. He swallowed. "And is that really the line you're going with?" A thrown shield. He was covering. He couldn't let this touch him.
The smile dimmed. Faded. He'd lost his chance, he'd broken it like he'd broken everything else, like he'd broken the goddamn country--
And then Tony reached out and caught his hand. "Look," Tony said. "If you don't want to, that's one thing." His thumb stroked across Steve's knuckles as if he could undo all the violence Steve had wrought. "But if this is one of those ideas you get where you think you're being noble and sparing me from yourself -- you're not saving me from anything. I know what I'm getting into. I'm still here."
Steve swallowed hard. "I-- I can't ask you to--"
Tony squeezed his hand again. "That's why I'm asking." His mouth twitched its way into another hopeful smile. "I think it'd be good."
"I've made mistakes."
Tony waved his free hand at himself. "If you're waiting for us both to be perfect people, you'll be waiting a long time." He bit his lip. "Coming back to life made me start thinking I shouldn't take any of this for granted. Got me thinking that maybe I should carpe the diem, so to speak. And you-- I mean, you have to know I always--"
No one could have been blind to the decade of simmering romantic tension.
"I know," Steve said, and he realized he was staring at Tony's mouth. "I knew. I always knew. I, uh." He paused. "I did too."
Tony's fingers rubbed the inside of Steve's wrist in a way that was definitely not innocent. Steve breathed out sharply, and Tony's eyes gleamed.
"You can have this," Tony murmured. "It's okay. It's okay to have what you want."
Steve thought about being able to touch Tony whenever he wanted, to kiss the nape of Tony's neck, to hold his hand just like this. He thought about learning the sounds Tony would make with his mouth on him. He thought about waking up next to Tony, today and tomorrow and every day thereafter.
"I want this," Steve admitted.
"Then you've got this," Tony said, and he laughed. "Can't believe that I got you with such a terrible line. Honestly."
"You got any more where that came from?"
"I don't know," Tony said, brightly enough that that meant he most definitely did, "do you want the one about me wanting to see that uniform on my floor?" He looked a little hesitant as he said it, like he didn't know if it was too soon.
As if a goddamn decade of dancing around this could be too soon.
Heat kindled within Steve. "Yeah." His voice was rough. "Yeah, give me that one."
Tony grabbed his hand even more tightly and pulled him down the street. "You got it, Winghead."