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One day, Steve was led by an enthused genius into the media room. “There’s this new genre of music I found when I surfed YouTube the other day.” He said, tampering with the surround system. “It’s called Electro-Swing.” and when Steve raised an eyebrow, Tony’d sighed around a chuckle. “That’s basically Swing music, but for the new kids. Wanna listen?” And who could say no when Tony was beaming at him like he’d just found the Best Thing Ever?
The speakers started jamming the old familiar rhythm Steve had known and loved in the forties. It was true that he hadn’t exactly engaged in dancing - no one really wanted to dance with him at the time - but he did love the music. Surprisingly enough, Tony set the volume perfectly, so it wasn’t too overbearing, and Steve stared at nothing for a long moment, trying to gather his feelings about this.
Now, Steve did have a StarkPod Clint had given him with all the music he could fit into it. And true enough, Steve had found some things he could relate to. Still, there was very little of what people now called ‘retro’ on the thing. He’d managed to find two or three tracks of good old swing, but it just wasn’t enough.
This new type of swing, though. It wasn’t exactly the same. It incorporated things Steve had heard in other genres of music, but somehow, the two styles meshed together well. His eyes closed and he wasn’t even aware of how Tony was looking at him. His knee jerked in time with the upbeat tune, and he focused on all the ingredients that had made swing such a favorite for him. “It’s good.” He said at last, not opening his eyes.
Tony was watching him the whole time, taking in Steve’s unique way of becoming familiar with something he’d never seen or heard before. He smiled when Steve finally talked, and settled a bit more easily in his seat. He wouldn’t admit that he was a bit anxious about how Steve would find it, but he definitely was. “Good. I thought you might enjoy it.” He said. When Steve finally opened his eyes and smiled at him, Tony had to gulp and look away. “Maybe you can teach me how to dance to it? I was thinking… If anyone knows how-”
“I’ve never danced to this.” Steve said, cutting off anything Tony might’ve said. “Never really… Got the chance.” And there was a touch of sadness to the man’s voice, but Tony definitely wasn’t going to call him out on it. They weren’t at that level of friendship yet.
“Oh… But if I find tutorials or anything like that, would you know if I’m doing it well enough?” He continued, not deterred in the least by the - it was definitely a trick of light - shinier quality to Steve’s eyes. He wasn’t going to cry in front of Tony, that much he was absolutely sure of. Steve sighed.
“I suppose I would be, yes.” He said with a shrug. “I’ve seen enough people do it before.”
And that’s what had brought them to this situation, really. Once a week, or every other week, depending on how insistent their enemies were that week, they would set a time at the media room, and Tony would make an utter fool of himself in front of Steve, while Steve laughed at his expense and tried to correct him without actually having to show him the moves.
Steve listened to Electro-Swing outside of these meetings, too. He drew to it, did some of his workout with it, studied with it. He’d also found some authentic swing tracks, in his attempt to pinpoint what the similarities and differences were between the two styles.
-
“You know, this Electro-Swing thing, it’s a bit like us.” Steve said one day. It was a couple of days after Tony was made to confess his feelings for him, and Steve had done a lot of thinking since. It wasn’t as easy as one would think, as Tony seemed all too eager to test Steve’s boundaries, but somehow, he managed to have enough free time to do that. Tony looked at him questioningly over the kitchen table, though he seemed to have some idea of what he was going to say. “I mean, it’s still swing, right? But it has a… a Futuristic feel to it.” Steve seemed sheepish when he said this, but he continued without letting himself overthink it. “It’s like you and me. Future and past in one team, each giving their best parts to the mix.”
“And sometimes the bad parts.” Tony said wryly. Steve laughed, but didn’t answer. “I know what you mean, Steve. I think some of these tracks actually feel like how working with you feels. Seamless, effortlessly graceful.” He bit his lower lip and shook his head. “God, I’m starting to sound like you.”
“You say that as though it’s a bad thing.” Steve teased, then closed his eyes in thought. “I wish… I wish other things were this easy.”
“Like what, for example?” Tony asked, raising a brow even though Steve couldn’t see it.
“You know my StarkPOD is full of old music.” Steve said, still stubbornly keeping his eyes closed. “But it’s not the same as listening to this… This…” Steve gulped once before shaking his head. “I can’t make new memories work with the oldies, Tony.” He finally opened his eyes to look at the other man. “But I’ve been making some with this.”
As a matter of fact, Tony knew this. He hadn’t exactly been looking for something Steve might like, but when he happened upon an electro-swing track, he immediately thought of Steve and the broody mood he would get into when he listened to his old music, or when he snuck out to get a can of coca cola when he thought no one was looking. It didn’t take a genius to figure out where it had come from. Steve had been grappling for some sense of home that he’d lost in the ice. Tony knew coke still tasted the same, the oldies still sounded the same. Those were pretty much the only places Steve could turn to, to find that old feeling.
He hated it. Not because he thought Steve shouldn’t cling onto his precious memories, but because of how profoundly sad the man had looked whenever he did. All the Avengers had noticed, Tony knew that much. They’d all tried to help their Captain out of his melancholy whenever they spotted it. Clint introduced Steve to the world of leisure time entertainment, showing him albums he might want to hear from various periods during the 70 years the man had spent asleep. Natasha was in charge of movies, and Thor would offer what he called BATTLE TO DEATH, but was usually just sparring. Bruce had been uneasy at first, but when he finally took to caring about his other teammates (other than Tony), he took on teaching Steve how to cook, and how to make various kinds of teas. All in all, it was a group effort.
But none of them could really do anything to connect Steve’s past to the present. Seventy years were a large gap to bridge over.
“That’s good, though, isn’t it? That you can make new memories.” And better still, for those memories being shared with Tony alone. He wasn’t possessive… Okay he couldn’t really convince anyone of that. He was possessive, and Steve and he shared something now. It made him giddy.
“It is.” Steve said, smiling fondly at Tony, finally. “It’s great that… This somehow works so well.” And neither of them could tell if Steve had talked about music, now, or about something more. There was a moment where neither spoke, contemplating this.
-
“So I’ve been practicing these dance moves and you have got to come see them right now.” Tony said, more or less bursting into Steve’s room one Sunday afternoon. Steve looked up slowly from the book he’d been reading, tilting his head at Tony. The man seemed excited enough, and Steve sighed, smiling minutely as he marked the page and closed the book. He got up and followed Tony to the media room.
“This had better be good, Stark. I was at a good part of that story.” He said offhandedly as they closed the door and Tony pointed him to a chair. The room had been a bit altered. The furniture all moved to the sides to allow some space in the middle for dancing. Steve shook his head in exasperation as Tony clapped his hands and the music started playing. It was electro swing, and Steve had to smile a bit wider at that.
He’s been seeing Tony for a while now. Things have progressed nicely between them. The rest of the team has been great about everything. Everyone fell into the routine like it was made for them. Steve was starting, finally, to feel at home again. It had taken a lot of work and even more help from his new friends to pull himself upright and facing forward, but they’d managed to do it for him. He was so grateful to each and every one of them, that he didn’t even know how to convey it. And it didn’t seem like they wanted any show of gratitude from him.
“Can you do that to Dramophone?” Steve asked, leaning back in his seat and watching as Tony smirked at him and snapped his fingers. The next song came on, and Tony fell into the pace of the new song easily. Steve was moving in his chair to the beat of the song, and somewhere, deep in the far reaches of his mind, he felt himself letting go of the past, at last. The memories, he wasn’t going to let go of, ever. He didn’t need to, anymore. The ice had brought him to these new people, to Tony. It had been a painful journey, but he was finally, finally, home.