Hello dear readers! Kathson here, updating. We've kicked our writers block on this for now and hopefully it stays that way! We'll have another update for you sometime next week. In the meantime – Enjoy!

Steve

Steve spends the rest of the afternoon in his room, lying on his bed with his hands folded behind his head, staring at the ceiling. Thor's words keep on repeating in the back of his head, even though he's tried to ignore them. He tried to distract himself by sketching for a bit, but when he realized he was sketching Tony – and that infernal grin of his – he throws his sketchbook against the wall in frustration.

Rolling over onto his stomach, he presses his face into his pillow, groaning. He briefly brushes off these feelings as being only a phase, but then again, a guy doesn't jerk off to the thought of his best friend for five months and still calls it a phase.

Steve rolls over again, suddenly feeling very restless. Rubbing his face with a sigh, he sits up slowly. Thor is right, he realizes. Whenever Steve looks at Tony, he can't help smiling, his stomach starts to do flip-flops and his hands get shaky and sweaty. He won't go as far as saying he's in love, though. Maybe… smitten is a more accurate name for his condition.

Great. Not only did he manage to get feelings for his best friend, said best friend also a self-proclaimed genius billionaire playboy philanthropist. And, whispers a voice in his head, he happens to be a MAN and you don't like men. Steve shakes his head. In his time, he might have been shunned for being attracted to another man, but in this time, the 21st century, being… gay– he shudders a bit at the word – is much more accepted, if not embraced. No, he has more problems with the 'playboy'part of Tony than anything else.

And then, he does not know if Tony actually likes men in general. If he were sure, he would – maybe, if he could muster up the courage – try and ask Tony out, but he isn't sure…

Steve gets up from his bed and paces around. Staying cooped up in here only makes him more restless. He almost wishes for something to happen – Loki returning, Doctor Doom coming up with another scheme, anything – just to stop him from thinking of Tony for a while. But there is nothing, no alarm sounding, no villain suddenly barging into his room or destroying the city. Nothing to distract him from his own thoughts.

With another heavy sigh, Steve walks towards his wardrobe and grabs a worn pair of sweatpants and a white shirt. He doesn't really feel like going to the gym, but staying here, alone with his thoughts, will only make him more anxious, and he can't afford being anxious around Tony right now.

Steve stills, his shirt just over his head. This morning, in the kitchen… he was halfway through a very nice fantasy about pushing Tony down onto the countertop, pulling up his shirt and kissing his way down that beautiful chest, Tony panting beneath him… He cuts himself off, just like Tony did this morning, telling himself yet again that he can't think about his teammate that way. He grabs his bag and leaves his room.

~oOo~

The sound of his fists hitting the leather punching bag over and over is quite calming. Steve clenches his teeth and keeps on hitting, even though he's so sweaty he discarded his shirt more than an hour ago and his knuckles are starting to protest. He has to distract himself, by any means, and if he has to bruise his knuckles in the process…

As if to make a point, Steve starts to punch harder, focusing on the punching bag, trying not to think of anyone, not of Tony, not of Tony, not of Tony-

The chains that hold the punching bag suddenly creak alarmingly, before giving in after Steve delivers one last punch and the bag is sent flying through the gym, smacking against the wall and sliding down. Steve emits a sound that is something between a groan and a shout, before turning around to grab another punching bag off the enormous pile in the corner.

Just as he lifts another punch bag over his shoulder and attaches the chains to the large hook on the ceiling, he hears the door open behind him. He pays no attention to it, nor does he react to the footsteps when whoever entered the gym approaches him. What does make him look up, however, is the sound of someone inhaling sharply, as if surprised.

Tony is there, staring at him with wide eyes, and suddenly Steve is very aware of the fact that he's not wearing a T-shirt. The brunet's eyes travel down Steve's chest, drinking in the sight, making Steve feel both embarrassed and – although he will not admit it – oddly excited. Tony sucks in his lower lip and looks up, looking Steve in the eye.

Tony

Tony wasn't sure why he'd offered to fetch Steve.

Clint wanted to start up a poker game and was going to check with Steve and Bruce to see if they wanted in. Tony mentioned that they were at opposite ends of the Tower and said he'd grab Steve from the gym.

He didn't miss the smug grins Pepper and Natasha exchanged, but he just ignored them.

Something was definitely up with the Team, as if they thought he was hiding a secret or something. He isn't really sure what it is, but the knowing glances and laughter ill disguised as coughs are getting on his nerves.

He strolls from the room and heads down the long hallway to the gym at the other end.

Before Cap came around it rarely got any use. Tony was the sort who always managed to stay in shape without much effort. And he had little need to practice boxing techniques since he's got a suit that could level a small town if he so chose.

But Steve spends most of his spare time there and the dull whump! whump! of his fists hitting the bag can often be heard in the common area. Along with the occasional heavy creak and thud of another bag breaking off the chain.

Tony keeps meaning to work on an unbreakable chain so he doesn't have to replace the bag so often. Not to mention the patches Toy has to put on the ceiling because of it.

But really he doesn't mind. The guy needs an outlet for his frustrations and a punching bag is one of the better options. Then again he's not the sort to take to drinks or women.

He pushes the door open, and saunters in, opening his mouth to call out "Hey Cap, up for some cards?"

But the words lodge in his throat when he actually catches sight of Steve.

He's hefting a fresh bag onto his shoulder, to replace the one that Tony realizes must've just gone flying. He moves with ease and grace, toned muscles rippling as he hooks it onto the chain with a skill that suggests he has done so a thousand times before. He probably has.

Tony sucks in a sharp breath as he watches Steve's shoulder blades rising and falling with the motion of his movements. The smooth, tanned skin seems to mock him and he is momentarily thankful when Steve turns to face him.

He's not sure why he felt relief because the front is worse than the back.

Firm, sculpted muscles, and a broad chest greet his eyes, slick with sweat. He tells himself to back off, to say something, anything and stop staring like a schoolgirl.

But the shock of it all keeps his eyes fixed. He knew the Cap was in good shape, had to be in order to serve on the Team. He knew he was a super soldier and built like a statue.

But his form was always covered, with a T-shirt, his suit, something.

Somehow he couldn't quite equate the shy, awkward, pure-hearted Steve with this sensual form. He was damn attractive, Tony suddenly realized with a jolt that sent his head spinning.

Not that he'd never found a man attractive before. He'd done his fair share of experimenting at college. Men, women, didn't matter to him. So long as they were attractive and intelligent he was happy.

And it suddenly strikes him that Steve meets those criteria perfectly. Firm square jaw, softened by blue eyes. Short blond hair, and yes, Tony has always had a soft spot for blondes.

He's also surprisingly good at math and a total bookworm. Tony was often thrown for a loop at some of Steve's observations and opinions. If he wasn't 70 some-odd years behind on things he'd be one of the smarter guys Tony had known.

"Tony?" Steve questions, breaking the tense silence.

His voice snaps Tony back from his thoughts and the world seems to right itself.

"Damn, Cap. If you ever get tired of saving the world you should be an underwear model or something." Tony snarks with a laugh and it has the desired effect of making Steve blush and turn away.

He digs in his bag for a shirt and when he finds one, draws it over his head.

Tony isn't sure if he should be relieved or disappointed. So he simply tries for an easy smile and says "Some of the Team are starting a poker game. You in?"

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