N/A: I asked my friend Ukelx a couple and a word. She said StevexHoward and Lantern. That's what she got.
There was a place close to camp, it was a little bar that a couple of yeomen had set up. They got food from the mess and one of them had used his place in administration to get them a license to use alcohol. It wasn't much more than a dingy barn really, but they tried to make it habitable, put tables and an old infirmary bunkbed served as bar. There were paper lanterns made of old paperworks hanging and flickering inside and outside. The soldiers would all end up there at some point in the week, just drinking away dark thoughts of unending wars and laughing along their comrades, the dread that they might not see another day lurking in their hearts.
Steve came sometimes with the Commandos. They'd laugh and drink and he'd stay in the corner, smiling at his friends. And sometimes, when he was on base, Stark would join them, coax Steve into drinking with him and Bucky, or into playing on the old rackety pool table over by the back of the barn.
And sometimes, Steve would catch him sending him a peculiar and troubled look over the pool table. His face hidden in the flickering lights of the lanterns.
They were there that night, after the General and they finished the plans to hit HYDRA. And for once, Steve agreed to drink, and drink and drink. Stark tried to keep up but he was getting wobbly. And even disappeared all together at some point.
Steve went around the back of the barn where only a single lantern lighted the area. Howard was standing underneath it, smoking a cigar and ignoring the thin sheet of tears in his eyes.
"You had to be a hero again, Rogers." He said, his voice rough from the smoke and the alcohol, but sending tingles down Steve's spin.
Steve tried to give him his best hollywood smile, but it came out as more of a grimace than anything.
"You know me, Stark. I can't just..."
The rest of his words fell away from him as Howard dashed toward him and in a nearly violent move, twinned his arms around his head, forcing it down to his and crashed their lips together.
It wasn't sweet, or hesitant or antything light-hearted. It was rough and filled with urgency, rugged with the feel of Howard's pencil-moustache, and the taste of alcohol and tobacco. Steve's hands found Howard's waist and keeping his strength in check, tightened around it, pulling him flush against his chest.
They separated when Steve felt Howard starting to choke for air. But Cap kept the billionaire against him, letting his forehead touch the top of the man's head, as he let him regain his breath.
He leaned back when he heard a faintly watery chuckled shake the shorter man, and looked down to him, letting one of his hands wander up and catch the single tear out of the corner of the man's eye.
"You will be the death of me, Steve Rogers."
Steve leaned back in and captured Howard's lips into another kiss, sweeter and more hesitating.
"I don't want to talk about it, let the future start tomorrow for once, Howard." He murmured gently.
Stark looked back up at him and gave him a bittersweet smile.
"I can always try." He retorted before escaping from Steve's arms, keeping his firmly on the man's forearm. "C'mon. My tent is this way."
As the music trickled from the lantern bar, the two made their way into darkness and toward camp, for one last night of oblivion.
-The End