Disclaimer! I don't own anything except for the twisted plot.

Question Everything

Opening Sequence

"May I get your order?"

A sweet, innocent voice startled Steve out of his thoughts. He paused and gathered his thoughts for a moment. His ears wide, as his mind, searches the world around him. How long had he stayed lost in his own world? How long did the real world surrounding him disappeared in his mind? How long had he stayed here, seated, staring at the piece of paper in front of him?

No, it wasn't an empty piece of paper anymore. Drawn in the middle of it – no matter how cheesy it may sound in his ears – his heart's most desired.

"He's very beautiful," added the lovely voice beside him.

Steve suddenly felt embarrassed? A bit ashamed of his drawing. A bit ashamed of his work. He shouldn't be drawing him. He shouldn't even be thinking of him. And yet his treacherous mind had formed around him.

"Um…yeah," Steve answered, a bit unsure. He looks up and was met with a lady in a waitress uniform. "M-may I help you, ma'am?" Steve mentally pats himself for remembering his manners.

The lady laughs and smiles softly at him. "Actually, yes. May I take your order?" The lady asked and lifted her small pad, somewhat exaggerating her position.

Steve blushed, shyly. He coughs and cooled himself down. "Um…yes, what do you recommend?" he asked politely. The lady thinks for a moment, tapping her black pen against her chin. "Perhaps a cup of coffee?" the lady asked, nicely.

Steve's world halted once more. Damn, why must everything be some sort of triggering for his mind to go down the memory lane? He doesn't need to keep on thinking about him. Stop it.

"Okay. One please" Steve said, pulling out his wallet and handing the lady some cash. The lady smiles and accepted the cash. "Do you drink it with sugar?"

"Lots and lots of it!" His voice, jittering with excitement and happiness as if he was the epitome of it, echoed against Steve's mind. Steve shook his head to get rid of it. The lady looked at him with concern.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yes, sorry. No, I take it black," Steve replied.

The lady nodded and walked off, fetching Steve's order. Steve stared at the space before his eyes darted back to his piece of paper. The words I love you etched on the side of his face.

Before Steve's mind pulls him down on the onslaught of his memories, his phone rings. Steve immediately reached his pocket to answer it.

"Yes?"

"Steve," the stern voice of Natasha answered at the other side. Steve immediately went to his default leader mode. "What is it?"

"Steve, y-you have to go back." Steve had never, not even once, heard Natasha's voice stumbled. She was a very strong woman, dare he say much stronger than Peggy, his cousin.

What kind of disaster had made Natasha's voice shook like that?

"Steve, he's back"

"Who is?"

"Clint."

Suddenly, it all clicked into place. Why Natasha's voice stumbled, why she sounded so unsure. Steve's blood ran cold. Why now? After all these months? After all those endless – and yes, he had to admit, fruitless – search…why did he decide to appear now? Why now?

"I see." Steve's voice dropped down a volume. There's a moment of silence before Natasha hang up the phone.

Steve stared at the drawn image in front of him.

He closed his phone and crumpled the piece of paper mocking him. He can't do this now. He has to control himself. This is for the best, this is for the better.

Steve stood up and left the crumpled piece of paper lying on his table. And hopefully, his memories of him be left along with it.

Just a few seconds later, a man in his thirties walked towards Steve's abandoned table. He sees the lady waitress on her way, in her hand, a tray with a steaming cup of coffee.

The man snickers, too bad for Steve to miss his order.

But that's not what interests this man the most. It's the crumpled piece of paper left behind by Steve.

He had waited patiently, blending into the shadows, watching Steve as he sketches something on this paper. He knew that whatever it was, it left an emotional impact on Steve. He had seen how Steve stared at the paper for god knows how long, lost in his own thoughts, lost in his own self.

And he would damn well exploit it.

He reached the table and took the piece of paper. His insides stumbled in joy. This is gold. The man smirked.

Tony. Tony. Tony.

I love you.

Yes, this is perfect.

Author's Note! Yup that happened!

This is my first Stony Fan Fiction and gay fanfic. I'm warning you now, this doesn't have a smutty sin, though if I could practice well enough, maybe I could put some ;) (and adjust the warning). This is a challenge fic with my friend, and so I dedicate this to her. Hope she finds this, haha.

I'm still uncertain with my secondary pairing, so if you have any suggestions, feel free to comment or message me. And I'll be sure to think about it. Haha. Also, I'll be adding more tags as the story progressed.

Thanks for clicking! Hope to see you soon!