A soft breeze blew in from the ocean just as Tony cracked a joke about something Thor did on the yacht the previous night, after Steve had gone to bed (early to bed, early to rise after all). Steve responded with a soft chuckle. There was silence once again, but to Tony, it was a pleasant silence. Steve took the moment to lean back in his whicker chair—a handsome stained brown type with a plush, lime green cushion—now mimicking Tony's relaxed position. Each held a beer lazily as they watched the gentle waves lap the snow-white shore.
Tony was more than happy to invite Steve (and the gang, to a lesser degree) over to his private Hawaiian island. He knew the kid had only seen a few places outside of Brooklyn, and those included the army barracks in Europe and the bus terminals throughout the continental US as he made his theatrical Captain America tour (you know, before he went to fight in the war). Tony figured this was a treat for Steve, and he was happy to provide all of them a much-needed holiday from the busy New York atmosphere.
"I will get you a daiquiri soon. I promise JARVIS'll bring one out. He's just buffing the floors in the Great Room."
Steve smiled, which, in turn, made Tony smile. "It's no rush. We're all on vacation, right?"
Tony nodded and took another sip of beer. He looked over Steve almost appraisingly, but Steve had turned his attention back to the cerulean shore. Truthfully, Tony admired Steve's modesty. Well, to a certain extent. A t-shirt covering that body at the beach? Blasphemy. But it was really endearing how Steve was always so positive and thankful, even if he didn't show that much skin. Tony reached an arm over, firmly cupping Steve's shoulder. Steve looked over with his big, soft eyes and slumping shoulders and Tony could barely contain an "aw."
"Hammock's set up on the other side of the beach. It's big too, for both of us," he said instead.
"Sounds great," Steve replied sincerely as he rose out of the chair.
Tony grabbed the beer from Steve's hand and pushed it into the sand, upright, along with his own. He then began to lead Steve there, an uncharacteristically gentle hand on his back. But something about Steve made him want to be gentle, and Tony was more than happy to oblige, because well, it was Steve.
Before they made it, however, Tony had one final obligation.
"Wait," Tony said. Steve, ever obedient, did just that. Once again, those huge, round eyes were calling his name, so Tony decided to shut them up once and for all. He lunged forward, hands on either side of Steve's face, and kissed him forcefully. Steve melted into the kiss, his hands awkwardly bunching somewhere near his chest.
Tony broke away. Steve had a cute mix of shock and happiness on his face, so Tony figured it was a success. Wordlessly, they then continued to the hammock, where they eventually slept until the sun set and JARVIS woke them up by pressing a freezing daiquiri glass into Tony's ankle. (The screech that followed was easily imaginable and quite entertaining, to say the least.)