Hey Guys, my first attempt at any Marvel writing, hope you all enjoy anyway. please review! Thanks guys! :)

The punching bag swayed in front of him, his fists beating against it, small grunts escaping from his mouth as he worked out all of the anger building up in his veins. He could still hear the comments ringing in his head, could still see the sarcastic smirk of Tony Stark as he made another reference that Steve could only hope he would one day understand. Steve hated bullies, he always had. And Tony Stark seemed to love nothing more than bullying Steve, making Steve feel like he was less of a man just because he didn't understand how to work an "eye phone" or any of these new found technologies that Tony was so fond of.

Every bad thought about Tony was punctuated with a hit to the punching bag, in his mind Steve could clearly picture red and gold, and could only imagine that his fists were hitting off the suit that Tony believed made him some sort of hero. Tony was no hero, he was selfish and arrogant and everything that Steve detested in people. Even now, Steve could hear Tony's music, turned up loud enough so the full tower could hear it, proving further that Tony had no consideration for other people. Steve punched harder, allowing his punches to echo throughout the gym, turning Tony's music to dull background noise. Sweat started to bead on Steve's forehead as he delivered hit after hit on the "Iron Man" suit in his mind. He would love nothing more than to show Tony that, while he might be the product of some experiment, he was still more of a man, still a better person than Tony Stark could ever be. The punching bag flew across the room with one last blow and Steve didn't make any effort to pick it up, he was far too annoyed at Tony to care what state he left his gym in.
Steve headed for the door; he had to leave the so called "Stark Tower". He couldn't stand the place much longer. Everything was electrical and everything smelled like Tony and everything about the place drove him crazy. He set off at a run, ignoring "Jarvis" - houses shouldn't talk, it didn't make sense. Steve had been living at the tower along with Clint , Natasha and Bruce ever since SHIELD decided it would be a good idea to keep as much of the team together as they could. If you could call it a team.

Steve's feet continued to carry him around the quiet streets of New York, the sun was beginning to rise but the city was still in a quiet slumber. Steve didn't sleep much, he didn't have to, the serum had changed so much about him. The incoming cloud cover caught Steve's eyes as he continued to run, and he couldn't stop his mind from picturing Tony Stark falling from that sky, falling after he had risked his own life to save the earth. Steve was stupid enough to believe that had changed Tony, stupid to believe that Tony was actually a person with a heart who cared for anyone but himself. It is true that he was letting Steve and the others stay at his house, and this could be mistaken for caring, but he had done so begrudgingly, allowing them to stay under SHIELDS orders and rarely making contact with any of them but Bruce. Which suited Steve just fine. Every time Steve did talk to Tony it had only ended in Steve's embarrassment, Tony's stupid smirk, and mostly the realisation that Steve really was alone in this strange time. Tony's act of heroism must have been a fluke, Steve had decided. A moment of insanity that had caused him to try and save the world, because as far as Steve could see, Tony didn't care too much for it.
The steady beat of Steve's shoes hitting the sidewalk grounded him as he ran over the situation again in his mind. He thought of Tony's comment, something about a "90 year old virgin" and could feel anger building up again. There was nothing wrong with Steve being a virgin; he had justified that to himself many times. Even so, he could feel his cheeks burning at the thought of having… fondue with someone. And anyway, it was none of Tony Stark's god damn business. It was Steve's decision not to, it wasn't like he didn't have offers, he had plenty of them. He just wasn't ready and hadn't found the right person and was far too busy for anything of the sort. Steve smiled to himself; he knew he was right, let Tony think what he wants.

In truth, Steve did want someone. He started running faster, trying to escape these thoughts but it was no use. Steve didn't mind who the person was, if it was a person to love or just a friend. He just wanted someone who made him feel like he belonged to this time - someone to make him feel a little less alone. Bruce was alright to talk to, but they were far too different to maintain any conversation that would lead to friendship. Natasha and Clint were too close and secretive, and Steve didn't want to intrude on that. Thor was in Asgard still and then there was Tony, and no chance of friendship existed there. The tears were stinging Steve's eyes as he continued to push himself faster still, he couldn't let these thoughts get the better of him, and he couldn't bear to hear what Tony would say to him if he knew Steve had actually cried.

Steve found that his feet had led him back to the front of Stark Tower; he wiped his eyes quickly and entered the building. Tony's music had disappeared and the rest of the house seemed quiet, meaning Tony may have actually left his workshop long enough to sleep. Steve took the lift up to his room, discarded his workout clothes in his washing basket and headed for his shower. It took several attempts to get it started, but Steve still wasn't feeling confident enough to ask Jarvis for help. He let the water run over for several minutes replaying all the thoughts that had entered his head during the run. He was still annoyed at Tony, and he was still alone. Those things seemed likely to never change.
Steve turned the shower off, grabbed a towel and made his way back to the room. He dried himself off and stuck on the first things he could find in his drawers. And that's when he saw it, lying in the middle of his bed. A slab of some kind of technology that Tony usually carried about with him. Steve timidly picked it up, holding it at a distance from his body, fearing some kind of prank from Tony was about to ensue. A piece of paper fell from the, the thing, as he held it. Steve picked up the paper, seeing a message addressed to him that read -

"Hey Capsicle, I'm sorry about the comments I made earlier, I guess they were out of line. And Jarvis told me about your little cream puff in the gym, you need to lighten up Cap. So yeah, this tablet is filled with all the best of movie and music you have missed over the last few years, I think it's time we caught you up. Ask Jarvis if you need help working it. Tony."

Steve's eyes trailed the message several times; Tony had done something nice, for him, for Steve.
"Jarvis?" Steve asked the empty room.
"Yes, Mr Rogers?" a voice replied, seemingly from nowhere. Steve could never get used to this.
"Can you please, uh, thank Tony for this 'tablet' thing he gave me?"
"Certainly sir, but Mr Stark is currently sleeping in the kitchen. I shall tell him when he wakens."

Before Steve could stop himself he was on his feet and heading to the kitchen, he didn't know why and he certainly had no idea what he would say to Tony but he just couldn't help himself. He arrived inside the kitchen, the room glowing blue from the light coming from Tony's chest – Tony was indeed asleep inside the kitchen. He was sitting at the table; face slumped forward beside a full cup of coffee. And Steve really couldn't stop himself now, he walked across the room and before he could even process what he was doing, he had scooped Tony up in his arms and was carrying him out of the kitchen, toward the lift. He took Tony to his room, carried him to the massive bed and put him down on top of it, before throwing the covers over his body. Tony didn't stir or move the full time; he was so deep in sleep that it was probable that this was the first sleep he had in days.
Steve moved toward the door, fully ready to leave, when he noticed the dirty clothes and dishes scattered around the room. He picked them all up, scooping the clothes into the previously empty washing basket and then took the dishes, slowly closing the bedroom door on the sleeping Tony.

As Steve stood at the sink, washing what must have been at least three weeks of dishes, he couldn't help but consider who the real Tony Stark was. Yes, he was rude and arrogant and selfish but he also had these moments, these little golden moments of unselfishness and love, like risking himself to try and save the world and now trying to apologise to Steve by helping him fit in to this weird time that Steve still didn't understand. That's when it hit him; Tony Stark might actually be a good guy. Meaning Tony Stark might actually be a friend to Steve. He tested that thought in his head: Tony Stark – Colleague, housemate, and friend. A small smile spread across Steve's face as he put the last of the dishes back in the cupboards.
He made his way back to his, sat on his bed and picked up the electrical square that now seemed to be the foundation of a friendship. He held it, shook it, and pressed his hand against it.

"Hey Jarvis, how do I work this thing?" …