Height.
Throughout Tony Stark's fame and glory, he had successfully managed to hide his height. Unfortunately, when you're living with 5 people, who are in fact quite tall, it's hard to get away with it.
Steve and Natasha were sitting on bar chairs, whilst Bruce was pouring himself a cup of tea and Clint was leaning against the table.
"Okay! Fine!" Clint said with his arms raised in the air.
Natasha snickered and elbowed Steve, "See? I told you." She muttered.
Clint pointed at Natasha, "It was one time. " Bruce smiled as he raised his cup to his mouth, Clint turned to Bruce as if he could feel his distrust, "One time."
"Okay," Bruce said.
"In my defense, someone shot me in the-"
Everyone was silent when Tony stumbled into the room, bleary eyed and hair ruffled- because Tony was up for the whole night, for three consecutive days.
They all moved in a week ago, and Tony had always appeared dressed and ready at around 11 o'clock. This was unusual.
Tony appeared to have not noticed them, shuffling around, trying to make coffee. He opened the cupboard above him and blindly reached for a cup, before gently hit the machine to work faster. "Damn it." He muttered, running a hand though his messy tresses.
The room was silent; Steve and Clint stared blankly at him. Bruce continued to sip his tea.
Natasha surveyed Tony up and down, "You're short."
Tony jumped and whipped around, just noticing his audience. He squinted at Natasha, and tried to blink away the drowsiness, "No." Tony replied stiffly.
"Yes." Clint said, walking towards Tony, ignoring his heated glare. "Look at him Cap, he's tiny!"
"No I'm not." Tony smoothly replied, turning back to his coffee machine, which thankfully finished doing its job. He quickly poured his coffee into his cup.
Clint swaggered over to Tony, ruffling his hair, "No really." He said, "What are you? Like 5'1?"
Tony ducked away Clint's reaching hand as it was intended to learn onto him. "No."
"I think it's cute." Natasha said.
Steve looked down at his hands, and quickly got up to fill up with cup with water. He remained silent.
Tony glared at Bruce who continued to sip his tea, giving Tony a look of innocence. Bruce sighed, "I mean, Tony's not that short."
"No way!" Clint said, "Guys, look at him!" Everyone looked at him expectantly, "He's up to my shoulder." Natasha and Bruce watched as Clint stepped towards Tony. Steve stopped pouring his water warningly, and looked over Tony and prayed that Clint wouldn't do anything stupid.
Tony stepped back, "Barton." He said warningly.
"What?" He replied innocently, "I just want a hug." He lifted his arms up.
Tony looked desperately at his large mug of steaming hot coffee a few meters away. That could wait. He had to escape Clint's so called 'hugs'.
He swiftly turned around colliding into the very hard and very warm body of Steve Rogers.
Natasha sniggered and she propped her elbow onto the table and rested her chin there as if anticipating a very interesting show. Bruce took another sip of his tea as if this kind of thing happened every day.
Tony automatically curled his arms around the body of Steve Rogers – so he couldn't fall. Obviously. And Steve's hands hovered at Tony's waist.
There were a lot of reasons for why Anthony Stark disliked his height. One, he was teased about being a complete munchkin when he was in University. Two, the girls or boys there wouldn't date him. Who would? He came up to their shoulders. They said, what he was doing wasn't cute. And three, he was surrounded by the abnormally large and tall people and heck, it wasn't fair.
Tony came up to Steve's chest, 2 inches below his shoulder.
Tony, for some unknown reason, wrapped himself closer to Steve's body.
Steve looked at the people in the room, who where frozen in confusion like himself, except for Natasha, who was now sharpening her 1 inch long narrow, sharp knives, that Steve didn't even want to know where she even got them. At the back of his mind, he knew that Tony probably had something to do with it.
"Aw, isn't this adorable, Nat take a picture." Clint advanced towards them slowly, circling them. Natasha carelessly lifted her phone up from who knows were and snapped a photo. "Hey, isn't this the height you used to be?" He asked Steve.
"Stand down Barton." He smoothly replied, he pointed at Tony's mug, in which Clint passed on to Steve.
Tony's face was pressed against Steve's chest, and he could feel his abdominal muscles, aka his extremely hard and muscular abs. And Jesus Christ he could feel them moving as Steve reached out. Damn.
"Here's your coffee," Steve said. He gently pulled Tony from his chest, and handed him his mug.
Tony's eyes were glued to the floor, and he slowly reached out for his mug, his hand shaking slightly, and he quickly muttered his thanks and quickly walked out, into the elevator and into his workshop.
Steve turned to look as Tony quickly shuffled towards the exit, before looking at his friends who were looking at him expectantly. "What?" Steve said, his face suddenly growing hot as he processed what he did.
Bruce muttered something about an experiment and certain chemicals waiting for him and left.
"When I was working for Stark." Natasha started, glancing at her audience. "He always had these shoes. And they gave him an few extra inches."
"How come I've never noticed?" Steve said curiously.
Natasha rolled her eyes, "Tony's a genius, and he can easily find a way to add a few inches without anyone noticing."
"How long did it take you to figure it out?" Clint asked with a teasing note to his voice.
Natasha shot him a look, "That's besides the point. The point is, is that he hates his height." Natasha slid down from her chair and grabbed Clints arm, "Lets go spar."
Tony ran down to his workshop, his hands shaking slightly as he thought back, thinking about his anxiety at University. "God damn it." He hissed as he slid onto his chair.
"Jarvis?" Tony said, his face in his hands.
"Sir?"
"Play back what happened in the kitchen."
Tony's desktops lit up to show a very tiny looking version of Tony Stark collapsing onto Steve. Bruce had a small smile, and his eyes were twinkling when he lifted his cup back to his mouth when he watched the exchange. Clint stood gob-smacked and recovered quickly and winked at Steve.
"Zoom onto Steve." Tony said.
He could see Steve's wide blue eyes, as he stood there in shock and a twinge of pink flowered his face.
"Damn it." He groaned. "That's it Jarvis. We're moving." He stood up and started pacing around the room.
"Sir, I am afraid, I don't understand." Jarvis replied.
Tony stopped. "Jarvis you're too smart." Tony began to pace around the room again. "I'll just never show my face. Ever." He clapped his hands together; "I'll just wear my suit all the time. They make me like 5 inches taller anyway." He sighed, and walked back to his chair.
"Show me a live stream of what's happening right now Jarvis?"
"Yes sir."
Tony saw Natasha and Clint sparring on level 4, the gym, Bruce was working on an experiment, and Steve was sitting in the kitchen.
"Full screen on the kitchen." Tony said.
Steve sat on the bar chairs, his eyes glazed over and Tony just watched. "God." He turned to look at Dummy who was picking up some loose screws, "Look at him Dummy." He rubbed his face, "He's adorable… and I'm an idiot." He muttered, swiveling his chair, "whatever." He sighed, "Alright! Back to work! We're not coming out until everything that I've needed to do for the past few month is done."
Steve liked Tony. He was first an ass, there was no denying it, but afterwards him and the whole team found out how much of a heart Tony had. He upgraded everyone's weapons and suits, (Clint was especially pleased.) he then designed personalized floors for each of them, and it didn't include the lab that he built for Bruce, a huge gym and sparring area for Natasha, Clint, Steve and Thor, and the very large kitchen and living room.
"Tony doesn't like people to know that he cares." Natasha said sliding next to Steve on the red sofa, it was the second night of them moving in, Bruce was still fangirling over his new lab and Clint was asleep after the 18 hours of playing with his new arrows and sneaking up on Natasha in the vents.
"What?"
Natasha smirked, "He doesn't let people in often." She paused and stared outside the window with Steve, "Did you know that?" She turned to looked at him, her red hair contrasting against the dark sky.
"No." Steve shifted slightly.
Natasha cleared her throat, "When I worked for Stark." She said, "He does things for people. He probably doesn't know he's doing it."
Steve looked at her curiously.
"He does things for people. For the people he cares about." She continued, "Did you know how long it took Tony to make ten different designs of arrows, all unique, never thought of before?"
Steve shook his head; he didn't know where this conversation was leading up to.
"3 days." Natasha said seriously, "And when I say 3 days, I mean 3 days with an hour worth of sleep."
Steve raised his eyebrows, "Are you sure? Last time I checked, he only does things for himself." He scoffed.
"He doesn't like people to know that he cares." Natasha repeated.
Steve started looking at the things Tony did closely from then on.
And then Steve started liking Tony even more once he started to notice the small things he did for the team. His heart had fluttered and Tony walked in that morning. Tony looked cute. His hair was still in the I-just-rolled-out-of-bed state, and his flannel pajama pants were on, and- why was he thinking about it?
I'm hopeless. Steve thought, I'm a super soldier. I'm Captain America and for gods sake and I shouldn't be thinking about this.
Because Tony refused to show his face to his team, and this was not because he was over-reacting, (even though it may have played a small part of his decision.) but because his anxiety levels were high.
He remembered telling Obadiah about his height and how he hated it and how his self-esteem was rapidly descending and also how his hands shook when people sneered at him at university for being short. Of course he blamed it on the fact that there were probably jealous of how incredibly smart he was.
"What's the big deal Tony?" Obadiah's smile didn't quite reach his eyes, "You're running a company here, who cares about your height?"
Tony began to feel light headed, and had a lump in his throat, his hands started shaking ever so slightly he said, "No one." He said, masking his emotions well, "No one cares." And he walked away.
He locked himself in his room for the rest of the day.
"Look, dad, I don't know what's wrong? What did I do wrong? I-" Tony stuttered, after Howard Stark shouted at him for being irresponsible after a large dinner party he had come back from.
Howard had his fist pressed against the wall, his stance was tense and a lock of hair came down for it's tidy gelled state. "How can I expect you to lead the company?" He hissed, turning around.
"You're drunk." The eleven-year-old Tony Stark stated.
Howard shakily pointed his finger at him, "Don't talk to me like that young man." He said.
"I didn't say anything." Tony replied smoothly.
"This is what I'm talking about, " jeered Howard, he took steps towards Tony, towering over him. "How can I leave the future of Stark Industries in your hands Tony?"
"I've designed things that 25 year old cannot even build. And I'm eleven." Tony said, glaring at his father. "Imagine what I can build when I'm 25."
Howards eye twitched slightly, and he paused for a moment, searching for something to say, anything- "You're too short." He replied snootily.
"Too short?" Tony sneered, "Are you going to be upset if I'm not tall enough to catch a stray missile one day?"
Howard slapped him across the face, and Tony's head snapped backwards, his eyes watering before looking back up at his fathers face, "Get taller, no one likes a short man." He snapped.
"Keep slapping me like that and I might just start growing vertically." Tony said, sarcasm laced in every word.
Howard raised his hand back up, and Tony braced himself for the next blow but Howard clenched his hand into a fist and slowly lowered it down. "Do you know Captain America?" he calmly asked Tony, "Did you know that back when he was this tiny scrawny kid he was short?"
Tony silently shook his head, eyeing his father warily.
"Back then he was a nobody." Howard said quietly, "He was around 5'1, 5'2." He continued, "but do you know why he was a nobody Tony?"
"Because he didn't have a good hairstyle, father?" Tony replied, his nails digging into the palms of his hands as he continued to look up at Howard.
Howard snickered, "Because he was short Tony. But when he grew an extra foot, "He was suddenly the man all of America could see." The calmness quickly drained out of Howards face, "He stood out, and didn't hide behind crowds." Howard said, his voice hardening, "If you stay short. You'll never be successful."
Tony clenched his teeth together, "I understand." He replied, trying to stop himself from crying.
"You will bring shame to the Stark name. I cannot have a son unable to reach the bar table." He walked away, heading towards his study, not even looking back to check if his only son was okay.
Of course no one knew about the exchange, but every week Howard would ask if Tony had grown a centimeter, if he hadn't, he would get beat. And if he had, he would leave unscathed.
Tony tried his hardest to grow to the height of his father. He did exercises, and researched how to look like you were tall multiple times. After the times he got beat he would leave and sob quietly with his bots.
This continued for the next 4 years. You would have thought that it would get better when he left the house at the age of 15 to go to MIT.
All Tony wanted to do was to bring honour to the Stark name, for his father to look at him with pride.
But that never did happen.
A day had passed; Tony could hear Clint passing through the vent, no doubt to Natasha's room at 4 in the morning. Bruce did his yoga before going to bed; it was one of the things he does to keep himself calm. Steve only needed to sleep for 2 hours, and he woke up in the middle of the night to the gym, before taking a shower and going back to sleep.
Apparently with super soldier serum he only really needed 2-5 hours of sleep.
And no. Tony definitely did not stare at Steve when he was asleep. He was merely keeping watch. That was all. That was it.
"We need to do something." Clint said, as he gracefully fell from the vents and onto Natasha's bed. He also dodged a well-aimed punch at his face.
"It's-" Natasha turned to glance at her clock, "4 o'clock." She hissed, glaring at Clint.
"It's an hour till my morning run with the Captain. We don't have that much time." He said seriously.
Natasha sighed, and got out of bed, Clint's eyes quickly raked up and down her body, noticing how very short those shorts were, and how insanely tight her shirt was and especially how her legs looked incredibly long. No, it was not a crush.
She reached for her scarlet dress robe and tied it tightly around her waist. Rubbing her eyes, she sat on her bed. "What do we need to do?"
"Nat, you know what we need to do." Clint said, "I don't know about you but I can literally touch the sexual tension that they have. They're literally oozing with potential."
Natasha groaned, "It's too early for this."
"You don't know what you're saying Nat." Clint replied, placing a hand onto her shoulder, and looking deeply into her eyes, "Don't deny it. I know you know."
Natasha rolled her eyes, "and I feel what you feel." She stared into Clint's blue eyes for a while, and Clint stared unblinkingly back, "Shall we play a game?" She grinned lightly, raising an eyebrow.
Clint moaned, "I love that movie."
"I know."
"Does this mean you're in?" He asked, already tingling with excitement.
"Well the tower has been boring since we've moved in. Time for some entertainment."
"We're going to move all of Tony's coffee onto the top shelf. He won't be able to reach it" Clint said with wide eyes. Natasha stood up and he did the same, "It'll be adorable-"
"Clint." Natasha said, walking towards the door. "I completely support you in this. But I need to sleep. And you need to get out." She said, shoving Clint through her door.
"I'm going to the kitchen." Clint added.
"I'm going to sleep. Now walk."
Clint turned, and started walking, sighing loudly. He looked behind him, and Natasha looked back at him intently. He sighed again, his eyes looking at the floor as he tried his best to look miserable.
"Hey Clint?" Natasha called, as he reached halfway through the corridor. "I saw you looking." And she closed the door without another word.
"I'm not guilty." He muttered as he very gleefully, and with much enthusiasm pranced to the kitchen.
"Rhodey." Tony said, immediately after Rhodey had picked up the phone.
"What is it now? Oh god, tell me you didn't blow something up again?" Rhodey replied. Tony could hear the shuffling of sheets at the end of the line.
"This is important."
"Out of ten?"
"10." Tony said, "Oh James Rhodes," He continued, "I'm feeling things." Tony shuddered lightly.
"You called me. To say that you've been feeling things?" Rhodey said with no surprise. "Tell me… why am I your friend?"
"You love me buddy." Tony picked up a screwdriver, upgrading his car for the third time in 24 hours. "I have called to tell you, that a certain Capsicle has been playing around with my emotions lately."
"Are you saying you've got a crush Tony?"
"No that's not what I'm saying." He lightly snapped at the phone. "I'm just feeling… a feeling. That's it."
"That's a crush." Rhodey said in a neutral voice.
"You're right. But that's not the point." Tony wailed, "I don't want to feel things. This is the point where I have to say that I literally have no chance with our boy scout."
Rhodey laughed, "Did I just hear you say 'you're right?'"
"Oh my god, you're supposed to be helping me." Tony leaned his head against his cars tire.
"I can't this time Tony."
"Rhodes, I'm not filled with honor. I have almost lost every single drop of it the moment I accidently ran into Captain Americas abs."
"Please tell me you're kidding me."
"Rhodes, I'm warning you. One word and I'm taking that suit off of you. Iron Patriot will be no more."
"This call has been recorded. You'll thank me when you make me best man at your wedding." Rhodey snickered.
"I'm going to die." Tony moaned.
"Shut up and woo the man Stark."
"Rhodey, all I can see is chest when I see him."
"He'll think it's cute. Everyone likes a short girl anyway." Rhodey yawned
"But I don't want to be the short girl Rhodey. I want to be the hot tall girl." Tony whined. "I want to be the girl."
"Listen. I've got this thing to do in 3 hours…" Rhodey trailed off.
Tony banged his head repeatedly on his car tire, "Help me Rhodes."
"Man up." Rhodey said, before hanging up.
Tony kept hitting his head against the tire, "I'm doomed. I'm dead. I'm hopeless. Someone help me."
"Cap!" Clint panted, as Steve out took him the second time in the past 20 minutes of their run.
Steve reluctantly slowed down, "Yes?" He said.
Jesus Christ, thought Clint. He's not even tired. "Do you think Tony's good looking?" Clint said, very quickly.
"Um…" Steve blushed, his cheeks growing bright red.
Clint pushed him lightly, "It's alright Cap. Homosexuality now isn't a big deal anymore." Clint's legs burned lightly, "How are you not tired?" He muttered to himself.
"Tony's alright, I guess." Steve replied, his cheeks growing a shade brighter than they were before.
"I didn't expect him to be so short." Clint was desperately trying to keep up with Steve's running pace.
Steve shrugged, "I think it's alright."
"You think everything's alright Cap." Clint teased.
"It's cute." Steve murmured, he said it so softly that Clint nearly missed it.
"I'm sorry?" Clint said, "What was that?"
"I think it's cute that he's short." Steve said louder. He was now unbelievably red.
Clint refrained from dancing with joy. "What? Like Nat thinks he's cute, or in another way?" Clint tried his best to hide the excitement from his voice.
Steve gulped, his eyes darting to look at Clint's hopeful face. "I can't hear you." Steve said, as he slowly sped up, leaving Clint in the dust, who, was suffering to keep up. "Sorry!" Steve yelled behind him.
"Damn him and him super soldier stamina." Clint slowly stopped, resting his palms on his knees watching Steve sprint around the corner.
Steve panted softly as he ran back to Avengers Tower. He managed to run another 5 rounds before heading back.
He softly jogged to the kitchen, aware that Bruce was probably still asleep. Steve took his shirt off and hung it on the back of a chair. "Stop thinking." Steve whispered.
He opened the fridge and took kind of protein mixture out and poured it into a glass cup.
"Hey Cap." Natasha said, entering the room. She wore a pair of shorts and a loose red shirt. "Good run?"
"Yeah, left Barton to crawl to the tower by himself." Steve replied, drinking his protein shake, clutching his naked stomach.
Natasha sat at her usual seat, "I heard you guys had a very interesting conversation, regarding our very good friend Tony." She leaned forward with curiosity.
"It's nothing much." Steve choked. He headed back to the fridge to grab some eggs, the cold air enveloping his shirtless torso.
"You should make pancakes." Natasha suggested.
"I should?"
"Tony probably hasn't eaten since last breakfast and he likes pancakes."
Steve gulped, "He does?"
Natasha's eyes twinkled with mischief, "They're one of his favourite breakfast foods." She said.
"They are?" Steve said dumbly.
Steve cracked some eggs into a bowl before whisking them. There was silence.
"Steve?" Natasha said softly, "Homosexuality isn't bad."
Steve nodded, and kept his eyes on the bowl.
"Just do what your heart is telling you to do." Natasha said. "Also, I would like some cereal and milk please." She continued breaking the awkwardness in the air.
"Get it yourself. I've got pancakes to cook."
Natasha grinned, "Aye aye Captain."
"No." Tony groaned, "This can't happen."
"I am afraid it has sir." Replied Jarvis.
"Are you sure there isn't any in here?"
"Yes. I have scanned the room."
"I'm going to cry." Tony announced to the empty room. "I can't- I don't want to go up there."
"Coffee can be found in the kitchen."
"Any other location?" Tony pushed.
"No."
Tony threw his hands in the air, "How did this happen? I stocked it up last week?"
"Due to your lack of sleep, you have been consuming more coffee than normal." Jarvis curtly replied.
Tony groaned, collapsing onto his desk, his head buried in his arms, "Anyone in the kitchen?" He mumbled.
"Captain Rogers and Agent Romanoff have just entered, Agent Barton will be arriving shortly."
"Pull up the live stream of the kitchen for me Jarvis?" He asked, lifting a head to stare at his computer screen.
He watched as the very shirtless Steve Rogers walk around the kitchen, chatting aimlessly with Natasha. She walked over to the cupboard and reached up to grab some cereal, in which she had stuck a label reading: 'Natasha's. Do not touch.'
The cupboard that Natasha had just opened had contained his precious coffee beans. "Oh thank god." Tony said
He then realised, noticing how they were on the top shelf of said cupboard and he knew that there was no way he could reach them.
"Oh no, never mind." Tony said, "There is no way, I am humiliating myself any further. I am not going in."
5 minutes have passed, and Tony Stark needed to consume some coffee.
"Oh great, now Clint's there." Tony sarcastically said. He had been commenting on Steve for the past 5 minutes he had been staring at the video feed. "Did that little bastard just wink at me?!"
Clint shuffled through the kitchen door, which hair slightly damp from the shower he just had. He managed to wink at the camera on his way to join Natasha.
"Morning Clint!" Steve brightly said, as he stood in front of a pan cooking pancakes. "How was the run?"
Clint scowled at Steve, "I enjoyed the scenery."
"Of course you did. We all know how much you love the trees, Hawkeye." Natasha said.
"I hate you."
"No you don't." Natasha replied, leaning over to ruffle Clint's hair. "You wouldn't be able to live without me."
"F-" Clint began.
He was quickly cut off by Natasha who looked passed his shoulder and grinned wickedly, "Hello Stark." She proclaimed loudly.
In the background Steve softly cursed as he dropped his spatula. It was soon followed by Clint's muffled laughter.
Tony was stood in the doorway, barefoot, staring at Steve. It was not because he was shirtless and just came back from his run, and was cooking. He quickly averted his eyes when he heard Natasha's welcome.
"Morning Natasha" He sweetly replied, pretending as if nothing happened, "Barton." Tony said with a slightly harder tone.
"Aren't you forgetting someone?" Clint asked, smiling at Tony.
He glared at Clint for a few seconds before stiffly saying, "Steve."
Steve looked up from the unnecessary amount of concentration he put on his pancakes, and shot Natasha a panicked glance. She rolled her eyes.
He cleared his throat lightly, "Good morning Tony." His eyes were trained on the wall behind Tony, "I'm making pancakes." He forced his eyes back onto Tony's warm brown ones, and smiled lightly.
"Pancakes!" Clint said excitedly. He received a hard, well-concealed punch from Natasha.
"I love pancakes." Tony replied breathlessly.
Steve blushed.
"So Tony…" Clint said, "What are you looking for?"
Tony's eyes very regretfully tore themselves away from Steve's and he glared, his eyebrows were knitted close together with confusion. "What?" He said.
"Coffee." Clint said.
Tony blanched, "What about coffee?" He asked, gulping loudly.
"Don't you want to drink coffee Tony? You always do in the morning." Clint stated, his eyes gleaming.
"Yeah Tony." Natasha piped.
Tony glared at them as he made his way to the cupboard where Clint had very early in the morning, went to put them. He passed Steve who was very carefully placing the last pancake onto a plate, and he could feel the heat radiating from his shirtless body.
He could feel the stares of Natasha and Clint on his back as he reached up to open the door. His eyes darted upwards, and he internally swore at Clint. It was too high for him to reach. One day, he's going to design a robot that can reach things for him.
"Tony?" Steve's voice snapped him from his trance.
He turned to look at Steve, "Yep?" He replied, popping the 'p'.
"Do you need help?" Steve sounded like he genuinely cared and wanted to help but no. Tony wasn't going to shed every bit of honor he had left in 48 hours.
"Nope." Tony replied.
His gaze turned back to the very daunting looking top shelf. Tony very slowly stood on his toes and shakily extended his hand towards the shelf.
'Five centimeters away.' Tony thought, 'Damn.'
He silently grabbed a chair and placed it below the cabinet. Stepping onto it, he reached up again. Just a little bit closer and…
"Tony!"
He heard Steve's worried cry after he jumped up and grasped onto the corner of the bag. The chair wobbled, and tipped backward, and Tony cradled his coffee bag close to his chest, and closed his eyes tightly.
'This is it.' Tony thought, 'this is how I die. Falling from a chair.'
The impact of the floor never came. Instead, the heat of Steve Rogers cocooned him.
"Natasha, pictures.' Clint said urgently.
Natasha hand reached down and pulled a phone out, handing it to Clint who began snapping as many photos as he could.
Tony tensed up against Steve's chest.
At that moment, Bruce had walked into the kitchen. He stood there confused and stunned. "Looks like I came in at the wrong time." He said, before turning around and heading back to bed, muttering to himself.
"Tony?" Steve asked.
"Yeah?" Tony croaked back, opening his eyes. He stared into Steve's clear blue orbs.
Steve's arms tightened around Tony, he starts to go red. 'I, uh… I made pancakes." He stuttered.
"Smells nice." Tony commented, his eyes focused unblinkingly on Steve's.
Steve's eyes darted to the floor, his face turning redder.
"You know…" Tony said, snapping out of his trance, as he tried to be smooth and like he wasn't completely bothered that Captain America was basically cradling him. "Your body is very hard."
Steve gulped, his eyes snapping back to Tony. "I work, um… out?"
Tony nodded, hugging his coffee bag closer to him. He snuggled deeper into Steve's arms, enjoying the way that Steve's eyes widened and dilated suddenly. "Well then Captain, I guess one day you'll have to bring me with you."
Steve tensed, which wasn't all good for Tony, because that meant that he could feel Steve's amazing abs move again, and before you ask. No, he was not at all bothered. "Y-yeah." Steve said, "Sure."
Both were unaware that they had an audience of two people who consisted of Clint- who was gaping at them, and Natasha who was filing her nails watching them with interest.
"You know, this is the second time I've ended up in your arms." Tony commented, one hand leaving its clutch on the coffee bag to poke Steve's pectoral muscles curiously.
Steve shuddered as he breathed in deeply, "I'm not complaining." Steve replied quickly.
"Me neither." Tony replied, "And as much as I love being in your very warm, comforting arms, I need some coffee before I faint."
Steve forced himself not to pout in despair. "Yeah, no sure." He said as he gently placed Tony back onto the floor. He had forgotten how much he'd thought how cutely short Tony was when he didn't wear his ridiculous shoes.
Tony trotted off to make his very precious coffee as Steve stood still for a few moments, ignoring Clint's thumbs up signals before making his way back to where his pancakes were.
He was interrupted by Tony's moan when he drank his coffee. He leaned against the table, his eyes closed and his mouth crooked with delight. Steve stared, and Natasha cleared her throat.
"Steve." She said.
"I-um, yeah?" He replied, looking at the ground once more.
"Mind getting me a glass of water?"
"Sure."
As he handed Natasha her glass, he turned around and saw Tony faced at him.
"Who are the pancakes for?" He asked.
"They're for you." Steve said softly.
"Sorry. Didn't catch that."
"They're for you." He said loudly.
"For me?" Tony placed a hand on his chest in fake surprise. "Oh captain," He continued as he pranced towards the stack of pancakes, "You're too kind!"
"Don't get used to it." Steve replied fondly.
Tony excitedly brought the pancakes to the table, and ate them eagerly. Steve sat directly across Tony with a smile playing on his lips.
"Why do you dislike your height?"
Natasha and Clint quietly slipped away. They were probably going off the make out somewhere.
Tony abruptly stopped eating, and he looked up from his eyelashes worryingly. He shrugged, "Just don't like it."
"There's more to the story."
Tony frowned, "There is."
"Can you tell me?" Steve leaned forward in concern.
"No."
He felt a twinge of disappointment and dropped the subject immediately. "That's okay."
There was a pause, in which Tony kept eating his pancakes with less enthusiasm, whilst stopping momentarily to take thirsty gulps of coffee.
He stopped, "You know." He said, breaking the silence, "That's the first time someone had asked me that without pushing me for an answer."
Steve looked up.
"It was Howard." Tony started. "Howard didn't like it."
"I'm sorry."
"For what?" Tony asked, "Not being there? I doubt you could stop him."
"War changes people." Steve said.
"Only if they let themselves be changed." Tony muttered. "The thing is," he said in a clearer voice, "He would hit me for it. He didn't like it. Kids at MIT didn't like it. The media didn't like it." Tony paused, "Nobody liked it. It wasn't cute. Nobody likes the short smart kid."
"I think it's cute." Steve blushed.
Tony stared in shock, "What?" He whispered.
"I." Steve leaned forward once more. "Think." His eyes caught Tony's and he stared into them intensely, "It's." His tongue darted out to lick his lips. "Cute."
"You like it?" Tony asked with surprise.
Steve nodded slowly, "And I don't really care if one of my teammates is short." He said. "I don't care if my friend is short."
Tony was frozen, gob smacked.
Steve sighed and mentally prepared himself, "I like you." He whispered. "I like you a lot." Steve shifted uneasily, "Now, I get it if I'm not your type…"
"Wha-no!" Tony said before Steve finished, "I swing both ways."
Happiness filled Steve when Tony told him.
"Now, as much I completely love the kitchen and your pancakes. I know that Barton and Romanoff are probably above us right now. So I suggest," Tony slowly got up and walked over to Steve, "we should go down to the garage."
Steve looked at Tony. "Garage?" He said after a few moments.
"Yeah."
They made their way downstairs. Once they entered, Tony pushed Steve to the wall and chest against chest he leaned into Steve's ear, one had placed on his shoulder and he tiptoed, "I like you too." Tony breathed.
"You do?" Steve was still adjusting to how close Tony was. He had bend down slightly, his tall frame towering over Tony's.
"Yeah." Tony said, his eyes darted to Steve's lips. "Yeah, I do."
Tony leaned towards Steve, a few centimeters away from his face. He gently breathed steadily whilst Steve was taking in deep breaths, his eyes wide.
"Are you going to kiss me?" Steve whispered, his head bending down, nose to nose with Tony.
"Are you getting impatient soldier?" Tony teased quietly, a hand coming up to cup Steve's cheeks.
Steve's eyes fluttered and he closed his eyes and then he felt Tony's lips press softly against his.
Steve's hands placed themselves on Tony's waist and kissed him deeper.
They pulled apart, foreheads together, and Tony took deep breaths, his eyes still closed. Steve smiled tenderly, before flipping Tony so he was the one against the wall.
Tony chucked lightly, his eyes opened, "I like you a lot."
Steve grinned and he dived back to Tony's lips, kissing him passionately. He grasped Tony's thighs and they came around his waist enthusiastically; they were now at the same height.
"Damn." Tony said between breaths, "You had a lot of practice?"
Steve gave Tony small tender kisses; he smiled, and said, "You don't need practice."
Tony's hands came up from Steve shoulders to the nape of his head, his hands playing with his blonde hair, tugging it playfully and his lips joined back with Steve's.
They walked hand in hand to the living room, where Clint, Natasha and Bruce where chatting animatedly on the sofa.
Steve's dropped from Tony's in shock when Clint shouted, "Aw, there you are! I was worried!"
Steve blushed furiously, and Tony's hand gently clasped Steve's hand back to his own, "You're just jealous Barton." He replied smiling happily at Steve.
"Nah, I prefer red heads." He said, looking at Natasha who rolled her eyes.
Tony pecked Steve on the lips before rushing out saying something about upgrading his uniform.
"What happened?" Natasha asked, and Clint's arm sneakily rested itself on her shoulders.
Steve shrugged, "I guess I prefer short brunettes."