Work Text:
Day 13: Eating Ice-Cream
“We’re going out in twenty minutes, dress up.” Tony said briskly as he walked past Steve, who was sprawled on the couch in his small apartment with a sketchbook in hand. He looked up, catching a glimpse of Tony’s back as the man walked into the kitchen, making himself a cup of coffee if Steve knew the guy at all. It was a lazy Sunday morning and Tony had probably just woken up. He looked and sounded much too awake to Steve.
“Where are we going?” Steve asked, glancing at the sketch he’d been working on with mixed feelings. He didn’t like the angle of the hand there, but he could get back to it and fix it. Later. The book was left on the table with the pencil he’d been using, and he got to his feet. It was so ingrained in his being to follow orders, that he usually had to exert willpower to stop himself from doing anything he was told to do - so long as it was within certain moral and logical boundaries.
“Out. Didn’t I just say so?” Tony asked from the kitchen, followed by noises of coffee making, and Steve sighed. He went to his room and changed from his pajamas into something more outdoors suitable. When he approached the living room again, having washed his face and rearranged his hair, he saw Tony sitting on the couch and going over his sketchbook. Something in the way Tony’s eyes went over one of the drawings made Steve smile.
“There are—” Tony jumped and Steve paused, leaning against the door-frame to the living room. Tony turned to him next and Steve studied the flat, if somewhat surprised expression he saw on his face, then he shook his head with a small apologetic smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. There are more of these.” he pointed out, pushing off the door-frame and stepping over to stand behind Tony and rub his shoulders gently. “I could let you look at them later, if you like.” he suggested, to which Tony responded with a hum and a nod of the head.
They headed out soon after that. Steve was still uncertain of their destination, but Tony assured him it was nothing harmful. They mounted Steve’s bike, the official reason being that Tony loathed to park his car in the city, but Steve suspected it had something to do with the way the man’s hands ran over his thighs and abdomen when they rode. It usually led to later adventures Steve didn’t mind at all.
—
The soft smile refused to leave Steve’s face from the moment he realized it was the ice-cream place Tony had wanted to go to, until they finally approached the place itself. The bike was safely parked nearby, and Steve paused to inspect the large ice-cream-cone decoration that stood outside. There were a few people seated at the small tables scattered in front of the place, most of them glanced at Tony with obvious recognition. Fewer people recognized Steve, he noted, but they still looked, and he opted to ignore them. Instead, he turned to Tony.
“Ice cream? Really?” he asked in a quiet tone. “You know I have ice-cream at home…”
“It’s not the same.” Tony answered plainly and approached the counter. He glanced over his shoulder then, looking expectantly at Steve, who walked over with a resigned chuckle. Steve still wasn’t sure what was Tony’s approach to being publicly caught doing what could only be seen as couples-activity.
Before long, they were both seated at one of those tables, each bearing a cup the size of Steve’s fist. He went with something so dull, Tony had to groan in annoyance at him. What could he say, though? He was a chocolate-chip vanilla ice-cream kind of guy. Tony on his part had ordered something much more adventurous in Steve’s opinion: pistachios and blueberries. He wasn’t even sure those worked together, taste-wise.
“So this is it? Ice-cream on a Sunday morning?” Steve asked after a long hard stare at the green-blue substance in the cup Tony was holding onto. Tony seemed unphased by that stare and ate on greedily. He was pointedly not looking at Steve.
Aside for the movies they occasionally went out for and the frequent meetups that included sex and after-sex activities, and that one-time endeavor into a mall, there were really not many things they did that made them a couple, and Steve wondered if that’s what this was about. A small smile returned to his face and he took a spoonful of ice-cream in his mouth. It was good ice-cream, better than the store-bought kind, and he hummed his approval.
“You’re right. This is better than what I’ve got at home.” Steve said, eyes set on Tony’s face, waiting for the man to look back at him. It took a long while, but eventually Tony turned his head and glanced at Steve’s hand. He seemed to contemplate something for a moment, and then reached over in a would-be stealthy motion, had it not been so exaggerated, to scoop a spoonful of Steve’s Vanilla ice-cream. He then shoved the spoon in his mouth and seemed thoughtful for a moment.
“It’s still more boring than mine.” Tony said resolutely and held out his own cup for Steve to try. It took a second for Steve to respond and mimic Tony’s actions. He contemplated the contrast between the tastes and privately decided to never take that specific combination, before meeting Tony’s eyes again.
“I like my boring share a bit better.” Steve admitted, and Tony shrugged.
—
On the way back to Steve’s place, Tony’s hand kept sliding up to rest on Steve’s crotch, only to be moved away and placed politely on a knee, or abdomen. Steve knew Tony was only doing this to frustrate him, but he didn’t want them to die in a bike accident because of Tony’s weird games.
The door closed after them and Tony seemed ready to pull Steve into a kiss, initiate something that required less talking and no clothes. Steve was having none of that. He held Tony’s wrist and looked at him for a moment. Tony seemed flustered, and Steve sighed.
“Before you do that,” Steve then said, pulling Tony into a warm, completely innocent hug. “I just wanted to say - Thank you.”
“For what?” Tony huffed back, hugging Steve by force of habit.
“For showing me your favorite ice-cream place.” Steve answered plainly. He had to smile in amusement at the way Tony froze at that. Maybe he still couldn’t read the guy most of the time, but this time he definitely hit the mark.