Disclaimer: I own nothing. Literally, even the idea for the fic can technically be attributed to the fanvid, so all I own are the order in which I put the words :)

Rating: I'm planning to put a chapter in at the end that could turn the rating of this from T to M, but I haven't 100% committed to that yet, so T for now. Eventual mentions of suicide in later chapters.

Warning: In case you couldn't tell from the description, characters, genre, or author note, this is malexmale. If that bothers you, click away. Don't flame for something you knew from the beginning you wouldn't like!

Inspiration: Go to Youtube and search "Love Like Fools Stony ann2who". Ah-may-zing.

Enjoy!


And I've been in this place before

Fine as we are but we want more

That's human nature at it's best

What if we ruin it all and we love like fools

And all we have we lose?

I don't want you to go but I want you so

So tell me what we choose


He tried to do things as close to the way he used to do them without being ridiculous. Of course, he used a washing machine and dryer instead of a clothesline and modern conveniences that were easily intuitive like that. But he'd rather read a real book than those fancy tablets, he liked listening to the radio, and he cooked a lot (although that was more because it reminded him of his mother.

He liked to take the train, close his eyes, and pretend he was still in 1940. He could still see that cityscape—the one he'd sketched what felt like a million times—in his mind if he concentrated.

But then he'd open his eyes and it would be bigger and completely foreign and more imposing than he remembered and it made him regret taking the train. Until he did it again.

It was a dangerous cycle.

In the past month, he'd visited every museum in the city—he'd visited some of the art twice—and tried several coffee shops until he found his favorite. It had nothing to do with the view of Stark Tower it afforded him.

He'd thought a lot about the team since the Chitauri. He was sure Widow and Hawkeye were off on some covert mission, Thor was back on Asgard with Loki and the rest of his people, and Tony and Bruce were "science-bro-ing" at Stark Tower…whatever that meant. They were Tony's words.

And then there was him. The perfect soldier, a man out of time…alone. Of course, Tony had invited him to come spar at the tower, but he was just being polite. After all, they'd only barely started getting on after the billionaire had nearly died. And Stark was probably extremely busy; in fact, he hadn't even heard the man's name on the news more than to say he hadn't been seen.

"Waiting on the big man?" He looked up from the hundredth sketch he'd made of the building with it's lone letter still clinging to the top; clearly, repairs were still in the works if the man's name hadn't even gone back up. A pretty blonde waitress was refilling his coffee and offering him a sweet smile.

He smiled back politely; he'd gotten plenty of offers since being unfrozen, but after realizing he'd never be able to truly connect with someone from this time (especially if he didn't reveal his true identity), he'd gotten acceptably adept at awkwardly turning those sweet smiles down.

"Ma'am?"

"Iron Man." He heard a wistful sigh at the end of the name and suppressed a smile; Tony sure did have an effect on people he'd never met. "People eat here to try and catch a glimpse of him flying in. Although I'm sorry to say he hasn't been around lately, so you're probably out of luck today." And every other day we don't get called in, he thought to himself as he pulled a bill out of his pocket.

"Maybe next time," he offered. Her hand froze halfway to taking the bill, though, as she stared at something behind him. Steve was about to ask if she was alright before he heard a familiar voice and felt a firm hand on his shoulder that made him smile.

"Maybe this time, although sorry to disappoint with the lack of flying. Two more please." He held up two fingers and a classic Stark-smile to the waitress and waited until she awkwardly turned away to pull out the chair across from Steve and drop into it. "That is, if you think you can put up with me long enough to drink another cup?" His mouth switched from the smirk to the smile, so Steve knew he was being sarcastic, but his eyes…his eyes seemed devoid of any emotion.

"Stark, it's nice to see you."

"Yeah, I stop here every now and again. They have the best coffee in town; just don't tell Pepper that." He gave a conspirational wink, as though he'd forgotten the fact that Steve had never actually met the infamous Pepper Potts. "So Rogers, how's life in the 21st century treating you? Have you discovered the wonders of cell phones and internet porn yet?"

Steve was supremely glad a new cup of coffee hadn't arrived yet; Tony would probably be wearing it if he had.

"Tony, why would you…"

"Oh, calm down; I'm just kidding. Well," he gave a thoughtful pause before continuing, "kind of. Both of those things are a pretty good representation of the world nowadays, give or take a bit. Sorry if I offended you." His smirk implied anything but.

Part of Steve was surprised that Tony's tone—which had, only a month ago, set him off on the man—made him relax and feel accepted by the man. The other part was still trying to suppress the uncomfortable blush rising to his face. He had discovered this century's blatant promiscuity; it was one of the things he was still having issues adjusting to.

"No, it's fine. I still do a lot of things the way I remember; I guess I'm trying to hold onto some semblance of normalcy in a world that's just…not normal?" He phrased it like a question, hoping he managed to convey what he was trying to say. After all, to Tony, all of this wasn't just normal—it was mundane.

Steve suddenly found himself being heavily scrutinized and couldn't think of anything to do but sit frozen. Even the arrival of the new coffee didn't distract the man.

"Stark?" Silence. "Tony." Recognition filtered back in and Tony seemed to realize he'd just been staring at Steve in public for…quite awhile actually.

"Sorry, it's just…don't take this the wrong way, but…how much sleep have you gotten in the last month?" Steve stiffened briefly; even though he relaxed almost instantly after, he knew Tony had probably caught it.

"I slept for seventy years; I think I'm all caught up." He'd said as much to Fury before their last mission.

"It doesn't work that way, Rogers. Answer the question." Steve broke eye contact, choosing to pick up his pencil and continue detailing the 'A' on the Tower as he spoke.

"When I have to."

"The ice?" The pencil dropped to the concrete as he looked back at Tony and realized why that haunted, empty, frightened look in Tony's eyes was so familiar. He saw it every morning in the mirror. Steve gave a brief nod, debating how much to say, then realizing it was useless as every word tumbled out without permission anyway.

"I have trouble sleeping. I close my eyes, and I'm back in the ice. I know I shouldn't remember—I mean, everyone says "science says" I was unconscious—but I do. The cold, the dark, the…"

"The quiet," Tony interjected quietly. "Knowing it's how you might spend your last moments—submerged in silence."

"The portal?" A different look crossed over the billionaire's face before settling into a gentle fake smile.

"Among other things. You know, the tower's huge. There's plenty of space, plenty of other insomniacs; you're welcome to stay. You know what they say—misery loves company." Tony was babbling; was he…nervous? Did he actually want Steve to come stay? Were they…friends?

Or was this just the polite offer of one teammate to another?

"Thanks, Tony, but I don't want to be an inconvenience, and I do have an apartment."

"Come on, Rogers, you'll be doing me a favor. You're exactly what Pepper says I need—someone to get me out of the lab who can talk to me about things that don't make me want to go back to the lab. And if Pepper's happy, I'm happy because she's not trying to set fire to the lab as a method to get me out." Steve gave a small laugh and almost agreed until something registered.

"Tony, have you been in your lab since the battle?" The inventor shrugged.

"Close to it. I've been working on suits and stuff for SI and I just never find a good enough reason to leave the lab." Steve's heart stuttered and he didn't know why. Well, maybe he did.

After all, Tony had left the lab for him. Ok, that was assuming a bit much—Tony did say he liked this coffee shop. So he left the lab for coffee, but he was inviting Steve to stay at the Tower to keep himself out of the lab, meaning he would lave the lab for the super-soldier.

Maybe the man-out-of-time wasn't as alone as he'd thought.

"When should I move my stuff?"


A/N: Please Review :)