Tony and his friends took Steve back to their place, which really was on the wrong side of town. It was a legitimate apartment, though, where they paid rent and everything, so Steve had been wrong about them being street kids.

"This is where we live," Tony told him, giving him the grand tour while the other two made themselves scarce. It was just a two bedroom place with a small kitchen/living room area and an absolutely tiny bathroom. It had nothing on the mansion, or even Steve's dorm room, but Steve supposed he'd become spoiled from having connections to the Starks.

Steve wanted to say, "It's nice," but what came out instead was, "What are you doing here?"

It was rude and under normal circumstances Steve would cringe and apologize, but he was still in shock from finding out his best friend was alive, so he let it go.

"What are you doing here?" Tony countered, turning the question back on him. "Why aren't you in New York?"

"I'm going to school here," Steve explained, but he couldn't let himself get sidetracked with that. "But you… I can't believe you're here and no one even knew! Wait until everyone finds out you've been here in Boston all this time. They're not going to believe it! And your mother…" He couldn't finish the thought. He wasn't sure how Maria would react to finding out her son was still alive, but reasonably, it wasn't like she could get much worse, right?

"No!" Tony said quickly, loud enough to make Steve stare. "My mother doesn't have to find out. No one does. Steve," here he put a hand on Steve's shoulder and looked right into his eyes. "You can't tell anyone I'm here."

"What?" Steve asked, confused yet again. Nothing had been explained and it didn't look anything was about to be. Well, Steve wasn't going to stand for that. "Tony, everyone thinks you're dead. What's going on here?"

"Dead?" Tony repeated, sounding shocked or maybe upset. Steve was having a hard time reading this new Tony as well as he had the old one. "Really?"

"Yes," Steve told him. "Obadiah told us about the car wreck. He said you and your father had both died, but that no one could see the bodies because it was too gruesome. He didn't even let your mother see them. There was a funeral and everything for you."

Tony thought about this for a minute, looking torn between bewilderment and nervousness. "I guess that makes sense," he said at last. "I never even thought about it, but that makes the most sense."

"Nothing about this makes sense," Steve insisted, starting to get angry. "And you still haven't answered my question about what you're doing here."

"I just live here now," Tony said defensively. "It's not a big deal. No one needs to know I'm not dead. It's fine that way."

Steve stared at him incredulously. "You're not even going to tell your mother that you're still alive?" This wasn't the Tony Steve had known. That Tony had been mean at times, but never cruel, not like this man in front of him. "She's been a wreck since you died. She's drugged up on anxiety meds all the time now."

"She's always been like that," Tony reminded him dismissively. "You know that."

"Not like she is now," Steve told him. "She's been a train wreck ever since Obi told us you were dead."

"Did he tell you anything else?" Tony asked immediately, sounding more nervous than ever.

"What?" Steve asked, thrown for yet another loop. "No. Like what?"

"Nothing," Tony said, casual again. "Never mind."

"Okay," Steve said slowly, willing to go along with that for now. He had more important things to worry about, anyway. "I guess it doesn't matter, anyway. What matters is, you're alive. And that means you're the rightful CEO of Stark Industries."

"What?!" a voice said from the other room, and Clint and Natasha came waltzing into the room from where they'd apparently been eavesdropping the whole time. Clint's practically bouncing, staring accusingly at Tony. "You're the CEO of a major multinational company? Why didn't you tell us? We could have been living at the Ritz this whole time instead of in this dump!"

"I'm not the CEO," Tony insisted at once, backing away slowly. "Maybe I was going to be, but that was a long time ago. Things are different now."

"I can't believe you never told us who you are," Natasha said accusingly, giving Tony a scary, narrow-eyed look.

"I'm still the same guy," Tony said, starting to look freaked out. "Nothing's changed!"

This conversation was not going where Steve wanted it to, and he had a feeling it wouldn't until he and Tony were alone again. "Could you guys give us a minute alone?" he asked. "Really alone?"

"Fine," Clint said sulkily. "I was planning on going out, anyway. Come on, Nat."

They both grabbed their shoes from the pile by the door and left the apartment. Clint slammed the door behind him, but they could hear his "ow!" from the other side of it as Natasha apparently smacked him over the head.

"Clint and Natasha," Tony said fondly. "You learn to love them."

He must have caught sight of Steve's expression then, though, because he stopped smiling. "What?" he asked.

"I thought you were dead," Steve admitted. He felt like crying, but he wouldn't, not here and not now. It was stupid, he knew. There was no reason for it. Tony was alive, and that was the best news he'd ever had, hands down.

"But I'm not," Tony said, and moved forward again to grab Steve's hand. "I'm alive. We're both alive and everything's gonna be okay."

"Yeah," Steve said around the lump in his throat. "I guess."

He still didn't really understand what was going on, why Tony refused to come back to New York and take control of his company.

"Look," Tony said suddenly. "Let me take you out tonight, okay? Let me show you what a great city this is. You're going to school here, right?" Steve nods. "I bet you've never been to the places I could show you, though. Let's go out, just the two of us, like we used to back in New York."

This was the Tony Steve remembered, excited and impulsive, always ready for a new adventure. They had other things to talk about, questions that needed answered, but Steve really missed Tony. "Okay," he agreed. "Where are we going?"

They ended up at a night club, the kind that didn't ask for ID at the door, which Steve disapproved of, but he let it go. He could have forgiven a lot to have his best friend back at his side. Tony showed him the local nightlife, introduced him to Boston's most rowdy clubbers. He taught Steve to dance, too, which wasn't an easy feat and took hours.

Finally, Steve asked, "Can we go somewhere quieter?"

Tony agreed and they ended up walking along the Charles at two in the morning. Tony had taken off his Eeyore sweater to go to the club, and was shivering slightly in the cold night air. Steve offered his jacket and Tony took it, smiled at him. The whole night had been surreal, like being with a ghost, but Steve had loved every minute of it. If this was dream, he never wanted to wake up.

"I really missed you," he said, reaching over and taking Tony's hand.

"Me, too," Tony said, leaning in. "Do you wanna head back to my place?"

"Yeah," Steve breathed. He moved forward just a bit, met Tony halfway.

Their first kiss, the one Steve thought he'd never get the chance to have, was on a river bank in the dark. It couldn't have been more perfect. They kissed until they got too cold from just standing still, then they started back to Tony's apartment, hand in hand.

"Papa," Peter says, sounding panicked. "You're not going to tell me about you guys having sex, right?"

"Of course not," his Papa says, smiling like the thought amuses him. "I'm not your Dad. I was going to tell you we played Parcheesi and let you draw your own conclusions."

"You're evil," Peter says, appalled.

"Do you want to hear the rest of this story or not, bub?" Papa asks.

"Yeah," Peter admits. He's pretty into it by now, to be honest, even if it is some kind of messed up love story about his dads. "Continue."

Papa does.