"So this is the man my father couldn't stop talking about," Tony said derisively, walking away from Steve.
"Don't you talk about him like that! You have no idea of the man he was," Steve shot back heatedly, grabbing Tony's arm angrily. Had it been anyone else, Tony would have smacked them though the wall by now. Contrary to popular belief, his strength didn't all reside in that suit.
"I think I knew my father a little better than you, old man," Tony sneered, and Steve had to stop himself from wiping the smug look off the kid's face.
"You sure about that?" he asked, and Tony's face faltered, ever so slightly.
"You ever wonder exactly why your father couldn't stop talking about me?" Steve goaded, unable to help himself. This was always what Howard had brought out in him as well. Tony went to turn away, but Steve yanked him back. Unlike Tony, all his strength resided in his body. The disdainful look on Tony's face was enough to make Steve furious; so angry he thought maybe he could relate to Bruce just a little bit in that moment.
"Let me give you a hint. It wasn't just the shield he admired," Steve leered, and lingered long enough on Tony's defined chest that every goddamn person in the room would know exactly what he meant. Tony's face paled, and for a moment, Steve felt bad for the kid. But then Tony dove at him.
"You motherfucker!" Tony screamed as he pummelled Steve's face in fury.
"Isn't he technically a father-fucker?" muttered Thor from across the other side of the room, but no one payed him any mind.
It wasn't exactly a fair fight. Tony without his suit wasn't someone to be trifled with, but when he was facing off Captain America, he was just another hopeless punk.
Steve knew he'd gone too far; he'd known it would rile up Tony. No matter how much he protested, Steve knew he loved his father. He knew he could pick Tony up and throw him across the room easily, but he wouldn't do it. Instead, he took the blows, one after another. He knew he should have been doing this nobly, like the real Captain America, hero of the USA, would have, but really, it felt too much like sparring with Howard. And he'd missed that.
"Stop!" screamed Natasha, and she managed to pull Tony off of Steve; an impressive feat. Tony looked at the bloody mess that was Steve on the floor and, throwing one last disgusted look at him, stormed out.
Steve coughed, and to his surprise, it hurt. It had been a long while since he was hurt. It reminded him of Howard, again, and dammit if that didn't hurt too.
"You OK, Captain?" Natasha asked, giving him a hand up, and he stood, wiping blood from his lip.
"Fine," he said shortly, and walked out. The others knew better than to follow.
Steve may have been a strong man, a brave man, maybe even a hero. But no one ever said he was smart. So he followed Tony.
The man had retreated to the room he'd been assigned; no big surprise. It seemed father and son really were alike. Steve remembered finding Howard in his quarters many times after a fight. He enjoyed the solitude.
"I'm sorry," Steve said softly, tapping on the door to gesture his arrival. Tony was cradling his hands, looking a little surprised with himself, but more furious than anything. His head snapped up at Steve's voice, and he lunged at the (technically) older man again. Steve dodged out of the way; he'd been hit enough.
"You had no right!" Tony shouted, giving up on trying to land a blow.
"I know," Steve agreed softly, and meant it. It must have been the Stark gene; they all turned him into a jerk.
"He was my father. You think I wanted to hear about you and my father fucking?" Tony spat, and Steve didn't think he had ever seen someone so angry.
"If it helps, I loved him," Steve said, leaning on the doorway. Tony stopped his angry pacing, and the anger melted off his face.
"No, it doesn't fucking help," he spat, and Steve wondered why he still seemed angry when all he looked was sad.
"Tony. Is it just … because he was your father? Or is it because it was me?" Steve asked after a moment, a little afraid of the answer. No matter how much he knew in his head that this man standing in front of him was Tony Stark, not Howard, he still felt it. Felt the fear of disappointing him, of the rejection.
Tony's face paled again, and he froze. For a moment, Steve thought time had actually stopped, and to be honest, he wouldn't have been surprised, not after all he had seen. And then Tony moved again so quickly that Steve barely saw it.
"Stupid fucker," he muttered, before smashing his lips against Steve's. Steve didn't even have time to protest; Tony's tongue assaulted his lips, forcing them open, and Steve moaned low in his throat. Oh god, he'd missed this.
He kissed back, hard, and shoved Tony against the wall. He could keep him there if he really wanted, he was strong enough, but he didn't need to.
Tony pulled away for a second, and Steve could see the anger still flitting in his eyes.
"I was jealous, OK, you dumb fuck? Jesus," he said, before pulling Steve's mouth back down on his possessively.
Steve smiled through the kiss. Just like his Howard.