As the smoke began to clear in waves of gritty air towards the sky and the dripping debris had crumbled, Steve Rogers leaned against the side of the shiny firetruck. His helmet tucked behind his head in support and hands wiggling inside the dirty gloves to assure of their feeling. He nodded to the paramedics that rushed by him, their coded shouts and the shrill sirens merely background noise.
Steve hated this part; he hated the waiting, the desperation, and the overwhelming smell of burning. It was his Hercules complex that kept him going back. That and the free cookies Mrs. Hemtz brought by the station every Saturday evening. He tugged his helmet back atop his head and jumped into the truck beside his friends and co-workers
Clint Barton whistled as they drove off. "Was a bad one," He murmured, his voice quite and contemplative.
"Can't believe one match could destroy an entire house like that." Natasha Romanoff's expression was unreadable as she crossed her arms over her chest, an anxious habit Steve had come to recognize.
"At least they all survived." Steve stated with an optimistic upturn of his lips. The other two nodded in agreement.
"Well, 'cept that poor squirrel that got a little too curious," Barton snickered. Natasha punched him in the arm, but a grin played around her lips.
Steve's fingernails tapped the dash in a steady rhythm as they passed businesses and homes. The fire station was a quaint brick building nearly in the center of the town with large paned windows and modern style with a home feel. It was where Steve spent more than half his time since he arrived in New York City at the age of seventeen.
He remembered pickpocketing and hitchhiking from Brooklyn to the Big Apple where his then-boyfriend had promised they would live together forever. Steve scoffed at the memories of lying and cheating before he rubbed his eyes to rid his mind of the uneasy feeling.
"You okay, Rogers?" Clint inquired with an eyebrow raise as he skillfully maneuvered the truck into its usual spot.
He nodded and hopped out, extending his hand to help Tasha jump down. She smacked his hand away and he grinned. It was a game they had always played since she first transferred to their crew, especially after tough calls.
Steve slung an arm around Natasha's willowy shoulders and they strode towards the wide expanse of the kitchen. A ball of paper hit his arm with a quiet thump and he turned with an eyebrow cocked to the complex face of James "Bucky" Barnes, the man who was both boyish and rugged.
"Hands off my girl, Rogers," Bucky winked at Tasha and she coughed to cover up her flirty giggle. Steve's arm tightened around her and he raised his chin.
"You must be mistaken, Ms. Romanoff is a free woman," He declared. Bucky rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in defeat of his friend's tireless gentlemanly ways.
Bucky clasped the wide expanse of Steve's frame in his long arms and squeezed in a warm embrace. Rogers breathed in the undertone of wood and smoke blended with aged whiskey and detergent.
"Missed you, man." Bucky gave one last squeeze to his friend and let go, hand still clenched in Steve's dingy jacket.
"You were gone three days, Buck," Steve laughed before adding, "And stop rubbing yourself on me like a cat before you ruin your fancy leather coat."
Bucky, always a man of unique facial expressions, twisted his mouth up in a mocking fashion and mimicked his friend's warning. "Shut up. I had enough mothering from my mom on my vacation."
The blond man gestured for the two to walk as he began undoing the claps and buttons to his uniform. "Weren't you home for a wedding?" His question was muffled by the fabric of his shirt when he lifted it over his head.
His friend nodded. "Family friend," he murmured.
The locker room fitted around the back of the building and wrapped towards the front with showers. The walls were dark blue with white trim and the tiles of the shower were a mint green. The original Chief had designed for a "calming place to unwind and shower."
Bucky leaned against the opposite row of lockers with his hands behind his head and eyes closed, listening to the barely noticeable beat of the radio from the bunk area and the strumming of water from showers.
"Gonna stick around or head home?" Steve asked. His arms were full of bottles for body and hair. Dean popped an eye open and smirked.
"You're as bad as Natasha with your smell good crap." He stretched and ran a haphazard hand through his hair. "Nah, I'm going back to the apartment. See you tomorrow."
The blue eyed man waved to his friend and disappeared into the haze of the dewy steam.
"Late, late," Pepper mumbled frantically. Drawers slammed and clothes were slung all over the room haphazardly. "Tony!" Her voice echoed through home.
"What?" The man yelled back, an edge of exasperation tinting his voice.
"Have you seen my I.D. card anywhere?" Pepper's fingers raked through her hair as he scanned around the messy bedroom.
"Check the fridge," Tony replied with a smirk to his voice.
"The fridge?" She mouthed to himself before flying into the kitchen and slinging the worn fridge door open. Perched beside the gallon of milk was her lanyard and on it his tag. Pepper kissed the cold, glossy item.
"Tony, are you ready? We're already late." She glanced at her watch and stood still with patience grown from working with Tony Stark.
The world renowned doctor and son of weapon tycoon and millionaire Howard Stark had dug himself a deep spot in the medical field with stable roots. Tony Stark was ranked number two in Neurosurgery on a global scale.
Pepper mentally signed and wondered how such a brilliant man could be so...unique. Tony made it to the elevator before he groaned and turned back to his room. Pepper called after him and held up his PDA.
"You can have it back after the meeting is over." His assistant, and more so best friend, pressed the buttons that brought the elevator to life.
"Up late again?" Pepper's voice was a mixture of amusement and scolding.
He fixed her a look with earth brown orbs and sighed heavily, a feat that made the fabric of his sit creak. "If you must know, I've been working on my proposal."
"Really?" Her eyes lit up at hearing his work finally being taken care of. Pepper was sure they would arrive to the meeting and be embarrassed by Tony's lack of preparation.
The dark haired man rolled his eyes at her shock. "I want it to go through so the scholarship foundation can have the 'go ahead'," He shrugged as if it wasn't a life changing thing.
The elevator dinged and the pair walked towards the entrance of the building in sync, their movements that of siblings rather than friends. The sleek car waiting for them purred, steam coming from the back as the exhaust met the frosted, dewy air of morning.
Pepper settled in, followed by Tony, who popped open his custom made flask, tipping back his head to gulp the biting amber liquid.
"We need to talk about your drinking one day, Tony."
"We do indeed, but today is not that day." She scoffed beside him in reply, clear eyes trained to the fading blur of the asphalt.
The meeting was a successful endeavor and Tony couldn't help the small bubble of pride that nestled in his stomach. His lithe frame stretched out across a soft patch of cool dirt beneath a lean willow tree. It was a special place he had come to for years in times of raging emotions, whether they had been good or bad.
His nimble fingers of skill and talent traced the old bark of the tree. His other hand scratched at his growing stubble mindlessly and he sighed contently, crossing his legs. The breeze whispered over his body to bring in a chill from the spring air, successful in ruffling his perfectly mussed hair.
Tony was close to falling asleep when he heard a faint chuckle. He popped open an eye and warily glanced around, brown eyes settling on scuffed boots. He opened the other he and in a move so cliche, Tony slowly raked his eyes up the solid body above him.
Dark washed jeans came before a soft looking plaid shirt. Tony's glance finally met a pair of shining Clearwater eyes. The stranger's smile nearly split his face and he extended a hand. Tony's brow rose before he clasped it, allowing the grinning man to heft him to his feet. His own dark eyes held mischief that the stranger soon picked up on.
Their hands remained together for a moment before the blue eyed man realized himself and let go.
"Enjoying the beautiful day, I see." Tony bit back the snide remark as well as a contagious grin. He nodded and the man's grin grew. "It is a nice day. Going for a walk myself. Just making sure you were alright."
The dark haired man's lips curved upwards. "I assure you, Mister...?"
"Rogers. Steve Rogers, but please call me Steve." The blond replied easily.
"Well thank you, Steve, but I was enjoying the seclusion of the willow."
A small blush seeped into Steve's ivory skin and he nodded, hands digging into his pockets to rest. "I'll let you be getting back to that then. 'Bye!" He called over his shoulder when he turned to walk back on his original path.
Tony stared after him a moment, taking on the lean hips and broad shoulders with appreciation. It was only after he began to walk himself that he realized he didn't introduce himself to the handsome Steve Rogers.
A/N: Hello! I come bearing a brand spankin' new Stony fic. I wanted Tony to remain a genius and for Steve to be able to save people as he was always intended to do. I'm happy with this came out and I truly hope you guys enjoy it. As always, please review and have a wonderful day.