Steve wants to help Tony get back a comfort he lost in the Chitauri Invasion, so takes him out to go stargazing.

It doesn't go so well.

Then again, maybe it does.

"Just keep in mind that if I trip and break my neck out here, there isn't anyone else who can catch your ass when you decide to jump out of every fucking tall building you can find," Tony complained as he walked, each step as blind and tentative as the last. "I mean I guess there's Thor. But let's face it, we all know he gets way too excited playing whack-a-mole with the bad guys to pay us any kind of attention."

Steve chuckled with a shake of his head. "You won't trip."

Tony's response was to get his foot caught on a rock – or what he assumed was a rock. The only reason he didn't go sprawling face first into the dirt was Steve's enhanced reflexes bracing his arms around Tony before either of them had even registered he'd moved. "You were saying?" Tony bit out as he regained his footing.

"Fine, but you know I'd never let you fall."

And how was Tony supposed to argue when Steve used such sap-tastic ammo against him? He had never considered himself a particularly sentimental person, most especially in regards to relationships, but when Steve went and said things like that, how was he not expected to feel his chest swell with all things good and warm and terrifyingly idealistic?

They resumed their previous actions of Tony cautiously stepping forward with his hands outstretched, both of which were gently but firmly grasped in both of Steve's who was guiding him through wherever the hell they were.

"Yeah, well. If you'd give up whatever idea you have in that scheming head of yours and let me take this damn thing off," Tony made a vague gesture toward the fabric covering his eyes, "we wouldn't have to worry about all that, now would we?"

"Just a bit further," Steve appeased with a smile, though he was more than grateful that Tony couldn't see just how shaky and nervous he knew it was.

Because for as confident as he was trying to sound for Tony's sake, Steve was more than a little terrified that this evening he'd been planning over the last three weeks (though, the last few days of that was really more spent psyching himself up to actually go through with it…also, checking and double checking the weather) was going to backfire and combust in an epic display.

He took very little comfort in the knowledge that if it did end in a grand failure, he could maybe spin it in a way that he could blame it all on Rhodey.

Four weeks earlier, the Avengers had been basking in a blissful evening off from heroism and were enjoying the cool evening breeze when Rhodey just had to open his big mouth and reveal to Steve exactly why Tony had a tendency to migrate indoors whenever he found himself outside, though only under the cover of night.

Steve had felt like an absolute heel when Rhodey had had to painstakingly spell it out for him, something that should have been – and was, now that he objectively looked back, god he was an idiot – exceedingly obvious.

Tony was afraid to look up at the stars.

And with a perfectly valid reason. After using up the very last of his battery-powered heart – "That's not how it works, Steve, my heart is perfectly 'me' powered," he heard Tony's echo reiterating for the hundredth time, but when Steve had seen the reactor dark and silent as Tony laid motionless in the middle of the buckled and thoroughly wrecked street, that had been exactly how it had felt – to carry a nuclear missile through a magic portal into an alien universe to save the planet and the billions of souls on it, any sane person would have a high probability of gaining a phobia or two.

And Steve probably would have been perfectly able to support Tony in this by keeping him as far from the night sky and as distracted as possible whenever needed, until…

"He used to, though. Look at them, I mean. It wasn't too terribly often. I could probably count the number of times I've seen him do it on both hands, and it definitely happened more in California than here. But often enough for it to be a damn shame that he can't anymore. Because I cannot think of any time I'd ever seen him more still or tranquil than when he was sitting under a clear night sky and just…looking up."

The way Rhodey had said it, like he was truly and deeply saddened that his friend had lost that comfort, had made something deep in Steve ache for the engineer. He'd spent that evening tossing and turning, trying to picture Tony as Rhodey had described. It was difficult to imagine that of a man who seemed in constant motion and who could only be described as eccentric on his best days, but he tried anyway.

The image he managed to conjure in his mind was beautiful and only served to deepen the ache he felt, because he, too, now, was resentful that Tony's reward for his valiant altruism had been to not only lose something that had seemingly brought him such peace of mind, but to have it be turned on him in such a cruel way.

And Steve, being Steve, couldn't allow that to continue. So he'd gotten to work, pushed through his tech-illiteracy, and spent every spare moment he had away from Avenging and from SHIELD – and that he wasn't spending with Tony – researching. He hadn't gotten very far until one particularly frustrating evening, a window popped up on his tablet. Which was odd since Tony's adware removal program was legendary – he'd had almost every major tech conglomerate practically panting after him for it for years – but upon reading it and realizing it was exactly what he was looking for, he had a sneaking suspicion that was proven true when JARVIS crooned from above, "Best of luck to you, Captain."

And so he'd gotten to planning. He'd waffled between doing something big and extravagant or something small and intimate, needing it to be perfect but not at all knowing how Tony – or rather Tony's psyche – would react to either.

Steve knew he was walking a precarious line. On one hand, he could be helping Tony to take a positive step in a direction to help him recover a lost comfort. But on the other, he could just be sending Tony deeper into his paranoia and adding yet another string of psychological scars to Tony's already heartbreakingly notable collection.

No pressure.

"'Just a bit further,' he says," Tony mutters, his hands tightening around Steve's as he steps on a bit of uneven ground. "What, the five hour drive and hour long walk wasn't enough already?"

Steve barely managed to bite back a sigh but made up for it in the intensity of an unseen eye-roll. "The drive was barely over two hours, Tony. And we've only been walking for ten minutes."

"Yeah, well when you can't see any of the view and the company won't say anything about anything, it makes the time feel double. Scientific fact."

"Is it, now?" Steve said with a fond smile as he looked behind him to gauge how much further he needed to guide Tony to the spot he'd pre-designated. He was relieved to see the blanket and basket already set up exactly as he'd asked the owner of the nearby facility to do so only a few more yards away.

A nerve-wracking tightness coiled in his chest with each new step, and a small part of him began to consider turning Tony around and frog-marching him back to the car under the guise that this had all been some practical joke to massively waste his time—

He gave his head a good shake for that. No. He'd come this far, he was not backing out now. For better or worse, this was happening. Tony deserved to at least be given the chance to fight to gain a little piece of himself back, and Steve was determined to help him through every swing.

"Okay, just a few more steps now."

Steve led Tony till they reached the edge of the blanket, squeezing Tony's hands to indicate they'd arrived.

"This is it?"

Steve took a moment before he answered to look at Tony's face, how he looked now, blissfully unaware of where he was or what he was about to see. God, he hoped this wasn't a horrible decision.

Nonetheless, he took a breath and bit his lip as he nodded resolutely. Then remembered that Tony couldn't see it. "Yes. We're here."

"Finally." Tony's hands wasted no time in sliding from Steve's and going right for the blindfold.

Steve felt a sudden rush of panic and before he knew it, his hands were around Tony's wrists. "Wait!"

Steve knew that if Tony could, he'd have been blinking up at him in confusion. For now, all Tony could do was furrow his brow under the fabric. "Why?"

That was a very good question. One Steve scrambled to find an answer for. "I…Just, let me say something first?"

Tony tilted his head for a moment before agreeing. "Okay."

Steve's grip loosened – only then even realizing he'd grabbed him so tightly – and rubbed his thumbs along Tony's pulse points apologetically. "You remember what I said a little bit ago? When I said I'd never let you fall?"

"Yes," Tony answered with no small amount of hesitance. Not exactly the feel Steve had been going for, but he was hoping his next words would help.

"I need you to know that that's true. Every word."

Tony's lip curled slightly in the corner with a light scoff. "Steve—"

But he just continued on, needing Tony to hear this and believe it unconditionally. "Just listen. Please. I need you to trust me and know that I will always be here for you, and I will never, ever let you fall. Alright?"

But Tony's smirk only grew into an incredulous smile. "Honey, you're talking like I don't know all this already. I trust you. You know I do." His smile wavered slightly, though Steve could see he tried to hold it still. "At least I thought you did."

Steve was struck speechless for a moment, something akin to pride and absolute adoration blooming deep within his chest. It had taken months and no small amount of effort to get Tony past that crippling sense of I'm-not-worthy-of-you. It never failed to leave Steve heartsick each time he saw it pass through Tony's eyes, like he was fully expecting, even waiting for, the moment Steve realized what a fuck up Tony was and just deciding he wasn't worth the effort. Each time Tony had tried to pull away, it had only made Steve hold onto him tighter, refusing to let that be what tore them apart. Steve would make it his personal mission to love Tony all the more, put his everything into it to show Tony that there was nothing more worth fighting for than what they had and that he would never turn his back on it for anything, until even Tony couldn't argue against it.

Those moments came fewer and farther between the longer they were together. That look still made an appearance time and again but Steve knew how to take care of it.

And now, hearing the fruits of his labors put in so many words, that Tony trusted him enough to not even let it be a question anymore, made Steve want to pull him in and kiss every syllable as they slipped from Tony's lips. He only hoped he wasn't testing that new founded unequivocal trust beyond its limits with what he was about to do.

But he just put on a smile if only because he knew Tony would hear it as Steve brought one of his hands toward him to press a kiss on his palm. "I do know. And I trust you to know that everything I do is because I love you."

"I love you, too, but what is this about? You're freaking me out a little, here."

Steve brought both of the the other's hands to rest on his shoulders and leaned in to press his lips to Tony's. He'd meant it to be simple kiss, a kind of distraction as he reached up to remove the blindfold, but once it was off, Tony's arms snaked further around Steve's neck to pull him in and kiss him harder, deeper, wasting no time in pressing his tongue into Steve's mouth and kissing the very breath from him.

Steve couldn't resist wrapping his own arms around Tony to pull them flush together, feeling Tony against the entire front of his body from chest to knees. He was warm despite the chill in the air. Just one of the long list of things Steve loved about him and made him grip Tony all the tighter, trying to burrow his way under his skin.

It was Tony who pulled away first, winded but with a satisfied smile cut across his face, before he finally opened his eyes. It took a few moments of rapid blinking for his eyes to adjust after having the blindfold on for so long, but once Tony's eyes settled on Steve's face, his smile widened and Steve didn't bother holding back his own in response.

They stood breathing each other's air, Steve basking in the feeling of Tony's fingers carding through the hair at the back of his neck absentmindedly, when he felt more than saw Tony's lips move to form a comment.

But something caught Tony's eye before the words ever came to fruition.

Steve watched as Tony's gaze darted to something just behind the soldier. He waited with baited breath, willing his arms not to tighten further around Tony's frame in anticipation of the worst reaction his mind had conjured up during his sleepless night before. He watched the smile slowly slide from Tony's lips, a stone of dread dropping heavily in his stomach.

Tony leaned away but didn't let go, and Steve was grateful, despite the loss of heat. Steve carefully watched the expressions crossing Tony's face, ready to jump in at the first sign of panic. He'd prepared for this, readied himself for how much it was going to break him to see Tony in such distress.

But that wasn't at all what he was seeing now.

Steve was….he wasn't even sure. Dumbstruck came to mind, but it somehow didn't seem quite enough.

He'd been expecting panic, fear, a healthy dose of betrayal, had plans of action ready to enact for any combination of these. Now….

Now all his mind seemed able to focus on was how beautiful Tony looked like this. He still had yet to look away from the illuminated spectacle above them. And it was a spectacle. Steve had made a trip to this spot once before to speak with the manager of the nearby observatory, and it had been just as stunning then, too, a dark mantle sweeping across the sky, studded with pulsing diamonds.

But it wasn't enough to tear Steve's gaze from Tony's face or the look in his eyes. Peaceful. Quiet. A little sad, but nostalgic.

Steve's fingers twitched. He'd packed his sketch pad and a few pencils because he knew Tony liked to watch him create and he'd thought it might serve as a nice distraction if needed. They were in the basket just there on the blanket only a few feet away. He needed to get to them, preserve this memory, document it, keep it safe. So many things had faded from his memory already. He couldn't allow this to be another.

It had only been a moment. Steve's eye line strayed down to look at the basket at his feet, planning a way to discreetly retrieve the tools needed to conserve the exact expression on Tony's face, how the curves and lines had never seemed quite so soft, and thinking of how best to capture such elegance with the few pencils he'd brought. He'd only looked away for a moment. But it was the wrong moment.

When Steve thinks back on this evening, he will be forever amazed to think that all it took – from removing the blindfold and kissing Tony, holding him in his arms, to now – had happened in the span of mere seconds. Seconds, apparently, were all they would be allowed before this beautiful moment was all so painfully shattered.

The place mentioned here that Steve brings Tony to exists. It's called the Frosty Drew Observitory. Check out the pictures on Google. Stunning.

I had to look at light pollution maps in order to find it, which was kinda cool to see. Check it out to find a good star gazing spot near you!