Thank you so much for all of the kind reviews, follows, and favourites! I'm so glad you're enjoying the story!
This time it was Steve who ended up suggesting they wait until the following day to begin, especially after Tony explained that they would have to drill into the living room floor in order to access one of the wiring grids for the house, then poke another hole completely through the floor in order to thread the heavy wires that Tony needed to power the machine he was building. By the time Steve and Tony had managed to find all the crates that Tony needed and get them unpacked it was nearly four in the morning, and while the downstairs workshop was soundproofed, the living room was not, and Steve didn't feel that Peter would appreciate being suddenly woken by the ear-splitting noise of a jackhammer coming from one floor below. Better to get some rest and wait until morning to start tearing apart the house.
Or in Tony's case, spend the time running through the hundreds of calculations he would need in order to make the machine they were planning to build work, as well as construct a brand-new arc reactor device in anticipation of the project's success while Steve took a few minutes to sketch some pictures of it all. May as well document the history in the making that he was witnessing, right?
"This is gonna draw a helluva lot of power," Tony muttered at one point, causing Steve to look up from his drawing. "I'm gonna have to tap into the Oracle grid, which isn't gonna make Pepper all that happy, but it can't really be helped, so…"
"Would you like me to inform Miss Potts of your plans, sir?" JARVIS asked.
"No, no," replied Tony, running his fingers along his goatee. Steve had noticed that he did that a lot when he was thinking. "It'll just make her twitchy, and that won't help anything. Should only be for a few minutes anyway."
"What's going to make Miss Potts… twitchy?" Steve asked. Do I really want to know? He still found it difficult to follow their conversations most of the time, especially when they seemed to delight in constantly interrupting each other or speaking over each other. Steve wasn't quite sure how she tolerated it given how professional she was, but she seemed to accept it as just part of the job.
Tony quirked an eyebrow. "I'm gonna have to tap into the Stark Industries power grid in order to power this thing," he explained. "Which means that every single computer in Stark Industries is gonna shut down at the same time, which will probably cause a few people to wonder what the hell's going on. But like I said, it should only be for a few minutes, so—"
"Better to ask for forgiveness than permission?" Steve inquired.
"Yeah," answered Tony, smirking. "Something like that."
"Master Peter has awoken, sir," JARVIS said. "His body temperature is normal and he appears to be in good health. His current location is the kitchen."
"Thanks, JARVIS," Tony said. He set down the tablet he'd been working on and jerked his head towards the stairs. "C'mon old man, I bet Pete's excited to hear what we've got planned for the day."
"I'm not sure 'excited' is the word I would use," Steve mumbled, remembering the terse conversation that they'd had the previous night. Steve still wasn't completely sure why Tony was insisting on creating more vibranium when he had a perfectly good supply of it sitting up against the wall in his bedroom, other than the fact that he hadn't seen Tony this animated about anything else the entire summer and he selfishly wanted to see more of it. Tony was vibrant, full of life, and the whole time they'd been down in the workshop, Steve found that he could barely tear his eyes off of him in order to concentrate on his drawing.
They found Peter in the kitchen making pancakes, and Steve's heart soared when he realised that Peter was still wearing his sweatshirt from the previous night over his pyjamas, and that he was making the pancakes from scratch, just like Steve had taught him. Peter had even remembered to add the small touch of vanilla extract to the batter that Steve particularly enjoyed, and the scent of it was wafting throughout the huge, open kitchen, adding to Steve's feelings of bliss and excitement. Vanilla was one of his favourite scents, much like Tony with his green apples and Peter with his peppermint.
And to make things even better, the pancakes turned out amazing. Steve couldn't have made them better himself.
"You know bud, I'm not at all surprised," Tony said as he polished off his second pancake. He leaned over to ruffle Peter's hair, his face etched with pride. "I mean, cooking is just edible chemistry, and chemistry is just one of the many things that you're really, really good at, so you would think it would just follow that you'd be really, really good at this too."
"Yeah, maybe," answered Peter as he ran his index finger down his plate, mopping up the rest of his syrup. He shot Steve one of his sweet, wide smiles. "Or maybe it's just because I had a really, really good teacher."
"Well, yeah, there's that too," Tony replied, his brown eyes sparkling as they swept across Steve, causing the warm fuzzies he was already feeling from Peter's compliment to explode like fireworks across his chest, sending a hot flush up his neck to his cheeks.
"Thank you, Peter," Steve said, clearing his throat. He knew he was blushing again, and could only hope that the sunlight streaming in through the kitchen windows was able to hide most of it. "So does this mean that I'm off the hook from cooking from here on out?"
"Nope," Peter said, rather matter-of-factly. "I just knew that you guys hadn't gone to bed yet and you'd probably be hungry." He crossed his arms in front of him and scowled, a pretty comical sight given the huge sweatshirt that hung from his narrow shoulders like an oversized cloak. "And since I have a feeling that our plans for the day involve something that's gonna be both noisy and destructive, knowing Dad, I figured we'd at least start off with something yummy to eat."
Tony raised his eyebrows as he looked over at Steve, biting his lip to keep from smiling. "Well, I can't say that I disagree with the kid's assessment, old man. Can you?"
"No, not at all," chuckled Steve. "I'd say he's pretty much got it right."
Peter looked up at Steve, his eyebrows knitting together as he glanced between he and Tony a couple of times, then gave his head a slight shake.
"Okay, so… are we gonna get started?" he asked.
"Ah, yep," Tony said quickly as he stacked up the plates, carrying them over to the dishwasher. "Let's go."
Once down in the workshop they got right to work. With a sly grin, Tony handed Steve a sledgehammer and a pair of protective glasses, donning a second pair for himself while he tasked Peter with going over a holographic schematic of the wiring for the house and cutting the power to anything that they didn't absolutely require for their experiment.
"All right, old man," Tony said as he hefted his sledgehammer onto his shoulders. He was dressed in that tight, sleeveless black t-shirt again, and Steve was already struggling to keep his eyes focused on his task instead of on Tony's toned arms and back. "Are ya ready?"
"Um… are we sure this isn't a load-bearing wall?" Steve asked as he planted his feet. He'd never actually swung a sledgehammer before, but it couldn't be too much different from swinging a baseball bat or throwing his shield, could it?
"Hmm, good question," said Tony. "JARVIS, is this a load-bearing wall?"
"It is not, sir," JARVIS answered.
"Thanks," replied Tony. He stepped back and readied himself, smiling rather manically up at Steve. "Nope, it's not. We're good. Just aim for the target there and we should be good to go."
And with that, he reared back and swung, grunting with the effort as he and Steve took turns hitting the solid concrete wall until they'd made a hole about a foot or so in diameter. After that came the drilling into the floor upstairs as Tony's bots looked up in alarm, no doubt confused as to why small pieces of plaster and concrete were raining down on them from above, with U in particular beeping in annoyance as he attempted to sweep up the mess.
With all of the holes drilled, they moved on to the real heavy lifting, with Tony directing Steve to carry long pieces of grey metal tubing that he then bolted together into a sort of U-shape, with one of the end pieces poking through the hole in the wall.
"Okay, Pete," Tony called once all the coil segments were in place. "Time to goggle up. You too, Cap. This is the point where things are gonna get a bit dicey."
"Uh huh," replied Peter. He held out a pair of glasses with dark red lenses, not too unlike the pair that Howard wore when Steve underwent his serum procedure. "Here, Steve. Gotta protect your eyes."
"And the rest of you too, Pete," Tony added. "Get your apron on, yeah?"
"Okay," Peter answered, a little less enthusiastically.
"What exactly is this machine?" Steve asked.
"It's called a particle accelerator," answered Tony as he slipped on his own protective glasses. "It smashes the nuclei of the atoms together and reformulates them into the new element. At least, that's the theory that we're working with."
With the words 'theory' and 'reformulate' pretty much the only words that Steve understood in that sentence, he decided not to ask for a further explanation and simply took his place next to Peter.
"And you're sure that it's safe?" he asked Tony.
"Well," Tony said with a smirk. "I guess we'll find out, won't we?"
Alarmed, Steve glanced down at Peter, who merely shrugged. "This is just how he works, Steve. You'll get used to it eventually."
"Okay," Steve whispered, even as he wrapped his hand around Peter's shoulder and moved the boy to stand behind him, wondering if he should fetch his shield just in case.
"Sir," JARVIS suddenly cut in. "Agent Coulson has just arrived. Shall I send him down?"
"What?" Tony exclaimed. "What the hell does Fury want with me now?"
Before JARVIS could answer Phil Coulson appeared at the bottom of the steps, knocking impatiently on the glass door.
"Let him in, JARVIS," said Tony with a sigh, removing his glasses as Agent Coulson stepped into the room. "Look, we're kinda in the middle of something here, Coulson, so if you—"
"I'm not here to interfere with your work," Coulson interrupted. "I'm here to speak with you and Captain Rogers. It should only take a second."
"Mmm. And you couldn't've just called? Left a message? Sent a carrier pigeon or something?" grumbled Tony.
"What is it, Agent Coulson?" Steve asked.
"Director Fury wanted me to give you both a heads-up," Coulson said. "There's been some… unusual activity lately in Virginia and New Mexico that we're currently investigating."
"What kind of unusual activity?" asked Peter.
Coulson frowned, like he was just noticing that Peter was there. "I'm not sure I should—"
"Don't worry about Pete, Coulson," said Tony. "He's not gonna spill any of your dirty little secrets. Are you, Pete?"
"No, I won't," Peter answered.
Coulson shrugged. "I'm on my way to New Mexico now to investigate with a couple of our other agents, and that's really all I can say about it. As for Virginia, there was an incident that occurred yesterday at Culver University that I'm sure you can read about in the news if you're really that interested."
"That all seems a bit too straightforward for you to have taken the trouble of coming out here to tell us in person, Mr Coulson," Steve said. "So what else is going on?"
"More goddamn secret SHIELD stuff," grumbled Tony. "Figures."
"I'm not at liberty to say anything more than that, Captain," Coulson replied after a short pause. "But suffice it to say that if things escalate beyond the point of the other agents' comfort levels, we may have need of your services."
"What?" Peter cried as he grabbed onto Steve's hand. "No, you can't take Steve away! He's been assigned to us! He lives with us now!"
"Assignments can easily be changed, young man," Coulson said, and Steve couldn't tell if he was being patronising or simply stating a fact. It was still difficult for him to get a good read on the man. "And as Captain Rogers now works for SHIELD, then he's required to go where we send him."
"But—!" Peter sputtered.
"But only if the situation escalates, correct?" Steve said in his Captain's voice. He gave Peter's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Otherwise—"
"Otherwise things will remain as they are," answered Coulson. "Like I said, Director Fury just wanted to give you a head's up. Agents Romanoff and Barton are two of the best, but this may turn out to be more than even they are bargaining for."
"And now you've done that," Tony cut in. "And seeing as how we're all a bit busy here—"
"Then I'll get out of your way," Coulson finished, his eyes sweeping around the messy workshop with little to no change in his demeanor. "We'll be in touch, gentlemen."
"Hope you enjoy the Land of Enchantment," Tony called as the door closed behind Coulson's back.
Peter was still clinging tightly to Steve's hand, a deep frown marring his round face as he looked up at him. "I don't want you to go."
Steve's throat tightened, and he wrapped an arm around Peter's shoulders. For some reason the possibility that he might be reassigned away from the Starks hadn't even occurred to him, but he supposed it made sense. "I don't want to either, little guy," he murmured. "Like Agent Coulson said, he was only giving us a head's up, so let's just hope it stays that way."
"Don't you worry, Pete," said Tony as he slipped on his glasses. "I'm not afraid to go eye to eye with Nick Fury when I have to, and I'm not letting Cap go without a pretty big fight, okay? Especially since there's been pretty much zero progress on figuring out where those Ten Rings assholes have been hiding lately."
"Uh huh," Peter replied, sniffing.
"Can you explain to me how this thing works, Peter?" Steve asked. Maybe if he got Peter talking about the science they were attempting he wouldn't focus too much on Coulson's ominous visit. Steve had heard mentions of Agents Romanoff and Barton before, and heard they were both quite good at their respective jobs, but he hadn't personally met them.
To Steve's relief, Peter let out a huge smile. "Sure! You see that thing in Dad's hand there?"
"That looks like a rectangular-shaped mirror?" asked Steve.
"Yep! That's exactly what it is. There's a bunch of those placed throughout the whole accelerator, and their job is to focus the laser beam in the correct direction so it can bombard the test element with the supercharged particles. The test element is the little silver triangle that Dad mounted in that circular thingy at the every end over there."
There was a pause while Steve tried desperately to understand anything of what Peter just told him. "So…"
"So basically, we're trying to break something into its atomic parts, but then catch all of the parts before they go flying off into oblivion so we can rearrange them into the new element."
"So… kinda like a baseball being hit so hard that the cover flies off the ball, but you're trying to keep the cover from actually flying apart so you can put it back together?" asked Steve. "Even though it won't be the same?"
Peter tilted his head, wrinkling his nose as he thought. "Yep, that's pretty much it."
"If you two are about done with your yammering, I'm ready to start," Tony said, his stern words contradicted by his amused, rather lighthearted expression.
Once again Steve gently guided Peter to stand behind him, making sure his glasses and apron were in place. "We're ready when you are, Tony."
With a nod, Tony walked over to the end of the coil setup and inserted a large silver key into the control panel, the resulting whine of the machine as it powered up reminding Steve of the sound of the fighter airplane engines during the war.
"Initialising prismatic accelerator," announced JARVIS over the increasingly loud whine of the machine. Tony looked over at Steve and Peter, nodding once as he trotted over to the valve he'd installed at the top of one of the connected sections.
"He's adjusting the laser beam now," Peter shouted over the now near-deafening noise. "And any second now it's gonna—"
"Whoops!" Tony called as the laser beam suddenly shot out from the vibrating machine, immediately cutting through a metal storage cabinet and a set of metal shelves on its way over to the mounted silver triangle.
"Whoops?" repeated Steve, both aghast and amused at the same time. It seemed like such a Tony thing to say while calmly cutting apart a wall with a laser.
"I told you," Peter added. "This is just how he works. He's okay, though, Steve. I'll tell you if he isn't."
Nodding, Steve watched as Tony struggled to get the beam angled correctly, finally grabbing a large wrench to help him adjust the valve. Almost without thinking Steve took a step forward to try and help, but stepped back just as quickly. This was Tony's moment, and he didn't want to ruin it by interfering unless someone was in danger.
"Approaching maximum power!" JARVIS shouted over the ear-splitting noise as the blue laser continued its destructive path through the workshop, slowly approaching its target. Steve fought against the urge to cover his ears, gripping Peter's shoulder just a bit tighter.
As the laser beam finally reached the triangle the humming sound changed, becoming more like the sound of strong wind gales through a narrow tunnel as the the triangle began to glow a dazzling bright white, too bright for Steve to look at even with the protective glasses.
Not three seconds later Tony shut down the machine, his eyes firmly fixed on the glowing silver triangle as the light continued to pulse.
"Did it work?" Steve gasped, just now realising that he'd been holding his breath for the last several seconds.
"JARVIS?" Tony asked, and the fear in his voice was unmistakable as he gingerly retrieved the triangle and placed it inside the new arc reactor device. "How'd we do?"
Several heartbeats passed before JARVIS answered. "Congratulations, sir. You have created a new element."
"Okay, so…" Tony prompted. "None of that matters if the reactor doesn't accept the core."
Steve watched with bated breath as the reactor flickered several times, then let out a steady blue light just a shade or two lighter than the device currently in Tony's chest.
"The reactor has accepted the modified core, sir," JARVIS said once the flickering stopped. "I will begin running diagnostics."
"Woohoo!" yelped Peter as he threw off his heavy apron and launched himself into Tony's arms, nearly knocking him backwards. "Dad, you did it!"
Tony's eyes locked with Steve over Peter's head, his expression mirroring almost exactly what Steve was feeling, torn between laughter and tears. "We did it, buddy," he said firmly, his hand combing through Peter's wild hair. "All three of us."
"Well, that's good," Peter said. "'Cause otherwise we would've made a pretty big mess for nothing."
An almost maniacal laugh burst from Tony's chest. "That's true, bud," he said as he squeezed his eyes closed, kissing the top of Peter's head. He let out a hard, shuddering breath, looking like he was about ready to topple over as Steve stepped forward to place a steadying hand on Tony's shoulder, his heart doing a flip as Peter wound a skinny arm around his waist and pulled him into the hug as well.
"Are you all right?" he murmured to Tony, still trying to wrangle his own emotions.
"Course," Tony said as he looked up at him with glassy eyes. He seemed like he was trying desperately not to cry. "I'm fine."
"He always says that," Peter said, his voice muffled in Steve's chest. "Even when he's not."
Tony rolled his eyes. "Telling all of my dark and dirty secrets now, are we, Pete?"
"No, just the ones that should be told," answered Peter as he glanced up at Steve. "But this time I think he really will be okay."
"The diagnostics on the new core will take several hours, sir," JARVIS said. "I will let you know when they are complete."
"Thanks, J," Tony replied.
"And Miss Potts is on the line as well, sir," JARVIS continued. "I'm afraid she sounds quite upset."
"Oops," Tony said, huffing out a sharp breath. "Are the computers down?"
"I believe so, sir."
"Yeah, we probably tripped all the company fuses from here to Hong Kong with our little science experiment," muttered Tony. "Tell her I'll be there in about twenty minutes, I should probably clean up a bit first."
"Good idea, sir."
"You're gonna go into the office now?" Peter asked, sticking out his bottom lip. "I was hoping we could all do something fun together."
"More fun than this?" Tony said. "I would think you'd wanna save some of your energy for Disneyland tomorrow."
In a flash Peter's expression went from pouting to pure, unadulterated joy. "Really? Are you serious?"
"As long as Cap is up for it," replied Tony, turning to Steve and quirking and eyebrow. He was trying to hide it, to play it off as just another day in the life of Tony Stark, but Steve could see the nearly overwhelming relief in his brown eyes as clearly as if it were being painted out for him.
"Steve?" Tony said, nudging him gently with his elbow. "You gonna be up for it? Roller coasters and all?"
It hit Steve all of a sudden, much like so many of the suckerpunches to the gut that he'd taken in the Brooklyn alleyways while growing up. He had been sent here to do a job, to help guard Tony and Peter Stark, but he was so far beyond the simple logistics of the job now that it was almost inappropriate for him to continue doing it as a paid position. Tony and Peter had become his family, their lives so closely intertwined with his now that Steve could no longer imagine his life without either of them, and he highly doubted that Director Fury would be very pleased if he knew how badly compromised Steve had become. No one had ever said anything to Steve specifically, but he felt certain that it wasn't typical of a SHIELD agent to fall in love while on a mission.
Even if that mission was Tony Stark, and his adorable-beyond-words son.
"Yeah," Steve said, his voice quavering as he tried to smile. He would have to speak to Director Fury about this as soon as possible, but for now he was going to enjoy what they had managed to accomplish this morning, and just try to avoid thinking about the rest of it.
"I am definitely up for it."
"C'mon Steve, this is one of the best roller coasters here!" Peter exclaimed as he yanked on Steve's hand, dragging him over to the FastPass entrance for the Matterhorn. It was a beautiful, sunny August day in Anaheim, which meant that the park was quite busy, usually something that would have made Tony more than a little impatient and cranky despite the fact that they were there to celebrate Peter's birthday.
But today Tony wasn't impatient or cranky. The day before he had managed to accomplish something that not even Howard Stark had done, and now, with the dread of being poisoned to death no longer hanging over his head and his new reactor nestled inside his chest, he could concentrate more fully on the task of finding all of his renegade weapons and destroying them.
And, probably even more importantly, figure out how in the hell the weapons went renegade in the first place. He had recently tasked Pepper with searching through some of the old sale invoices for anything that looked out of place or peculiar, but so far she hadn't turned up anything, and he really couldn't blame her. If someone inside Stark Industries really was responsible for selling weapons to the Ten Rings, they probably wouldn't just leave their invoices out there on the company server for everyone to see.
Tony grinned as he and Rhodey followed Steve and Peter through the zigs and zags of the ride line, chuckling at the uneasy smile lighting across Steve's face. For someone who had faced down pretty much the whole of HYDRA during the war, including the Red Skull, it seemed kind of funny to Tony that he'd be afraid of something as simple as a roller coaster.
Then again, he supposed it also made perfect sense. Riding a roller coaster meant that you were at the mercy of the ride, and based on what he had observed over the past few months, Steve didn't really enjoy not being in control. Every single morning he had a plan on what he wanted to accomplish that day, a flexible one given the fact that he'd been living with Tony and Peter for the entire summer, but still a plan. It was probably one reason why he was such a good soldier.
The Star-Spangled Man with a Plan.
And, if he was being completely honest with himself, Tony wasn't all that fond of giving up control either. That initial test flight he'd had where his suit iced up and he'd ended up plummeting back to Earth in a complete freefall was not something that he ever cared to repeat. Especially once he finally managed to get home in one piece only for JARVIS to threaten to tell Peter and Steve on him if he ever thought it necessary to ignore the UI's mid-flight warnings again and attempt another foolish trip to the moon.
He couldn't deny the rush of euphoria he'd felt during that initial flight, though. Reaching the moon or not, the flight itself had been something so completely new and wonderful that nothing, not any drunken escapade nor sexual encounter had ever compared. In that moment, Tony Stark had really felt like he was indestructible, that he was actually made of iron.
An iron man.
"You don't need to yank the poor guy's arm out of its socket, Pete," Tony called. "Try and keep in mind that the only coaster Steve's ever seen is the Cyclone."
"It's all right, Tony," Steve called over his shoulder. "He's just excited."
"You guys seem to be getting along pretty well," Rhodes piped up from next to Tony, slurping up the remainder of the milkshake he'd been carrying around ever since they had paused for lunch. "Not that Captain Rogers is all that difficult to get along with, mind you, but—"
"Yeah, yeah, I know," grumbled Tony. "I'm usually the difficult one to get along with. Isn't that where you were going with that particular train of thought?"
"Hey, you said it, not me," Rhodes said. "All I said was—"
"Pete absolutely adores him," Tony interrupted. "Has from day one. And he's been good for Pete. Kept him nice and busy this summer so he couldn't dwell on things, stuff like that."
"Uh huh," Rhodes said pointedly. "And who's been helping to distract you, hmm? 'Cause from everything I've heard, you're the one who's been dwelling on things."
"I'm fine, Rhodey," grumbled Tony. "And I'm not dwelling, per se, just trying to—"
"Trying to play superhero," Rhodes cut in. "Or at least that's what Pepper's been telling me."
"Not only trying," Tony mumbled under his breath.
"Oh really? Mind telling me what's going on?"
"No," Tony stated. "It's probably best if you didn't know. You know, the whole plausible deniability thing. Don't wanna get you in trouble with your superiors or anything."
Rhodes shot him an odd look, one that Peter would've called a 'duh' look. "Yeah. 'Cause you're always concerned about me getting into trouble with my superiors."
Reaching the end of the line, Tony paused as they were sorted into their respective areas, smirking at the look on Rhodes' face as he was shuffled over to the adjacent line. Each bobsled-like car on the ride sat only three people, so Rhodes was stuck being the odd person out.
"Can we go on the other track once we get off this one?" Peter asked as he took his seat in the front of the car. He was practically vibrating with excitement, while Steve was still looking a bit paler than his usual self.
"As long as Cap doesn't mind, Pete," Tony replied.
"Oh, no, you don't have to worry about me," Steve said warily. "I don't mind if you—!"
And then they were off, with Peter letting out an excited shriek way louder than any child his size should be capable of, and Steve holding the handrails so tightly that his knuckles were white. From his place in the back of the car, Tony kept his eyes on him the entire time, forgoing the force and acceleration calculations that he usually busied himself with to ensure that Steve didn't go into another flashback or something.
"Woohoo!" yelped Peter as the ride came to a close, immediately twisting around in his seat. "That was so awesome! Can we please do the other one now, Steve? Please?"
"Absolutely," Steve answered as he unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to Tony, flashing that megawatt smile that never failed to make Tony's knees a bit weak. He didn't look like he was feeling horrible, but Tony wasn't about to accept that at face value. He had a feeling that Steve would rather swallow nails than risk disappointing Peter.
"Ya sure you're up for it?" he asked. "'Cause I can see if Rhodey could just take him again, I'm sure he wouldn't mind."
"No, I'm fine, Tony," Steve insisted, his smile growing even wider when Peter let out another loud whoop. "It was fun."
"Then c'mon!" Peter insisted, pulling on Steve's hand. "The Fantasyland side is even better!"
They ended up staying until the fireworks show closed out the park, by which time Peter was practically falling asleep on his feet, leaning so precariously against Steve's arm as they headed back to the car that Steve finally just picked him up and carried him like he was a toddler. Tears sprang to Tony's eyes at the sight, of his boy resting his head on Steve's shoulder with his skinny arms curled around Steve's neck. Normally such a sight would make Tony burn with jealousy, if he even allowed it to happen in the first place, but not this time.
This time it seemed completely natural. Like a proud papa carrying his tired son back to the car after his birthday trip to Disneyland.
Apparently Howard hadn't been wrong after all. Steve Rogers really was good at everything.
"You okay, Tony?" Rhodes asked in a low voice. "You seem… distracted."
"Always," Tony replied without thinking.
"Uh huh, sure," said Rhodes. Thankfully he knew better than to press Tony in front of Peter, sleepy or not. "So when are you guys heading back to New York?"
"I'm thinking next week sometime. Let Cap and Pete get used to the city again before school starts. And hopefully give me some time to talk to Pete's principal and teachers. I don't want him getting bombarded with questions as soon as he walks into his classroom. The seventh grade is gonna be hard enough without a bunch of nosy little brats pestering him about everything that happened last spring."
"That is a pretty awkward time for a kid, isn't it," Rhodes said, shuddering. "I sure don't miss it."
"Yep," agreed Tony. "I mean, the kid's still losing teeth for Christ's sake, how in the hell is he in junior high already?"
"It's good that you're not pushing him though, Tony," said Rhodes. "I know you managed to survive starting college at fifteen—mostly thanks to me—but I'm not sure I'd want Peter to try and do the same."
"No way in hell," Tony said firmly as they arrived at the car. "I'm gonna let him be a kid for as long as possible. He deserves at least that much."
Peter dozed against Steve's arm the whole way home, waking only after they'd dropped Rhodes off and pulled into the garage. After a quick shower, breathing treatment, and another snack—where did the kid put all of his food?—Tony tucked Peter into bed, brushing the damp hair away from his eyes.
"Have fun today, Pete?"
"Oh yeah," Peter breathed, hugging his polar bear to his chest. "Loads of fun! Are we still gonna go again before we leave for New York? You said we could go two days, and Steve told me that he really liked the Matterhorn, so he should be okay."
"I s'pose we can if you insist," Tony answered. He leaned down to kiss Peter's forehead. "I love you, buddy."
"Love you too." Peter bit his lip as he buried his nose into his polar bear's neck. "Dad?"
"Yeah?"
"Did you mean what you said about Steve? That you'd tell Mr Fury that we want him to stay here with us?"
Tony pursed his lips, gulping as a hot flush crept up his neck to his cheeks and hoping Peter couldn't see it in the dim light of his room. "Yeah, I did. I know how much you like him, Pete, and how much he's helped you this summer, and I'm not gonna allow that to be taken away from you if I can help it. And Fury owes me big anyway, so you shouldn't have to worry about it."
"Mmm," Peter murmured. "That's good. But I still think you're missing something that's pretty important."
"Oh? And what is that?"
The corners of Peter's mouth curled into a slight smile. "That I'm not the only one who doesn't want Steve to leave."
Oh shit, Tony thought as his belly gave a violent swoop. Kid's always been too perceptive for his own good.
"And what's that supposed to mean?" he asked, trying and failing to sound casual.
"I think you know, Dad," Peter said pointedly. "And I'm not stupid either. I've seen the way you look at him. And the way he looks at you."
"Well…" stammered Tony. "He is a pretty spritely-looking guy for an older fellow, I'll give you that. And if I do say so myself, I'm not all that half bad either, so it would make sense for—"
"That's not what I mean and you know it," Peter cut in. "I've never seen you look at anyone else like that, Dad, not even Pepper or Uncle James. You look at Steve like you love him."
Tony's heart was hammering against the arc reactor and his cheeks felt like they were about to spontaneously combust. Had it really been that obvious? Peter had always been able to read him like a book, and liked to tease Tony that his eyes were incapable of lying, but had it been even obvious to Rhodey earlier? Was that the reason for Rhodey's third degree at the park?
"Pete—"
"Why can't you just admit it?" asked Peter. "Steve is so awesome, Dad, and if he feels the same way as you, then what's the problem?"
"It's not that simple, Pete," Tony said with a heavy sigh. "I spent most of my life hating Steve Rogers. That's not something that you just get over just like that."
"No, you spent most of your life hating the image of someone who was an innocent bystander caught in the middle of your yucky relationship with Grandpa," said Peter. "You were projecting, Dad."
Tony's chin dropped to his chest. It seemed surreal that his not-quite-even-twelve-year-old son was trying to give him advice on his nonexistent love life. "Are you sure you're not turning twenty instead of twelve, buddy? Where's all this coming from?"
Peter rolled onto his side, burrowing further into his covers. "I just want you to be happy, Dad, and I think Steve makes you happy. You just have to let him in."
"Pete—"
"Please?" begged Peter. "Daddy, he's right here! What're you so afraid of?"
It was on the tip of Tony's tongue to just blurt it all out. To tell Peter everything that had been racing through his mind ever since he first laid his panicked eyes on Steve Rogers in the middle of that horrible Afghanistan desert. How he'd been trying so hard to keep him at an arm's length because he was afraid. Afraid of allowing himself to open his heart again, of allowing himself to become vulnerable, because he was terrified of not only getting hurt again, but of hurting Peter as well. Tony hadn't ever told Peter the full story about his mother. It was bad enough that she disappeared without a trace the day after she gave birth to Peter two months premature, Tony wasn't about to tell him that he'd been a complete accident in the first place because Tony had dared to let his guard down and then been made to look like an utter fool.
There was no doubt in Tony's mind that Peter already loved Steve, and loved the way he had embedded himself as part of their family over the summer. But if Tony were to allow things to progress beyond their current status and then realise later that it wasn't working… well, there was no way Tony could do that to his son. It would absolutely break Peter's heart.
In Tony's experience, if something seemed too good to be true, then it always was. Every single time.
He'd created too many demons for it to not be true.
"Get some sleep, Pete," Tony said instead. "It's late."
Peter huffed out a sharp breath, glaring at Tony. "Fine. Goodnight."
With a final kiss, Tony ruffled his hair once more and headed for the door, turning when Peter spoke up again.
"You're not gonna be able to ignore it forever, Dad. Not when it's staring at you right in the face. And I think I know why you're afraid, but I really don't think that Steve would hurt you. He's just too good."
"We'll see, Pete," Tony murmured. "Sleep now."
"Uh huh."
"Want some help unpacking, Steve?" Peter asked, poking his head around the doorway of Steve's new bedroom in the Tower apartment. They had just arrived in New York the previous day, and since Dad had gotten rushed off to a meeting with the Stark Industries Board of Directors and Peter had already completed all of his unpacking—or rather, had completed tossing his stuff haphazardly into his closet and hoping for the best—he thought he'd check to see how Steve was doing.
"Sure, little guy," Steve answered with a smile. "C'mon in."
Stepping inside the spacious, open air room, Peter couldn't help but let out a wide grin. All of the bedrooms in their penthouse apartment were along the southeast side except for one, but this one in particular was located on the corner and therefore got the most natural light of any of them, something that Peter knew Steve would appreciate having for his painting.
And the best part of it was that the room used to be Dad's bedroom. He had given it up and had it completely redecorated so Steve could have it. Steve didn't know that, of course, but Peter did. Dad could deny or hide it all he wanted, but he was already thinking of Steve as someone a lot more important than just a temporary bodyguard. Dad's actions had always spoken a lot louder than his words, and sometimes even in the exact opposite way of his words.
"Think you could handle unpacking my paints?" Steve asked, handing Peter a square box. Steve had insisted on bringing most of his art supplies from California out to New York with them, saying that he didn't want them just sitting unused for several months as it could potentially cause the oil-based paints to separate.
"Sure thing," answered Peter. He sat down on the floor and opened the box, arranging the paints according to colour in their special wooden case while Steve got to work on organising his rather large collection of sketchbooks, one of which, Peter happened to notice, was open to a rather elaborate drawing of his father.
"Can I see that?" he asked gingerly, pointing to the sketchbook. "The picture you drew of my dad?"
Steve immediately flushed so hard that even the tips of his ears turned pink. "Um…" he stammered. "Peter, I didn't really mean for you to see—"
"It's okay, Steve," Peter murmured. "I already know anyway."
"Know what?" Steve said quickly, just before dropping his head and sighing. "Oh God, is it really that obvious?"
"Only to me," Peter assured him. "It's not like we've really had a lot of opportunities to be around too many other people over the summer, have we?"
"I'm pretty sure that's how your father wanted it for you, little guy," Steve said softly, laying a gentle hand on Peter's shoulder. "He thought it would be easiest on you if you didn't have to answer too many questions about what happened."
"I know," whispered Peter. It was how Dad always handled things that were hard; isolating himself and burying himself in work until he either forgot about them—not likely—or they were replaced with the next hard thing that he would have to work to forget. It was a vicious cycle, and one that that gotten even worse ever since he and Dad were almost blown up in Afghanistan. Aside from the brief questions Dad had asked Peter about the time their attackers had dragged him away, Dad hadn't brought up the attack, their harrowing escape, or even mentioned Afghanistan by name at all over the summer. Or at least he hadn't done so in front of Peter.
And Peter knew without a doubt that he and Dad would've died out there in that desert if Steve and Uncle James hadn't found them when they did. It really was that simple. Dad had told Peter in the hospital that Steve had saved his life, but in all actuality Steve had saved both of their lives that day. There was no way Dad would've allowed himself to be rescued if Peter had died.
"It's his way of trying to protect me," Peter added. "And he just doesn't know any other way to do it. He's never had anyone like you to help him."
"Like me?" Steve asked. "What do you mean?"
Peter's heart started to thud. "Someone who loves him."
Steve shook his head, flushing impossibly pinker. "Peter, I know that—"
"It's okay now, you know," Peter cut in. "For a man to love another man. I know people used to say it wasn't okay where—or when—you came from, but that's not how it is anymore. You can even get married if you want to."
"Peter, I don't—" Steve started, then paused, narrowing his eyes. "Is that really true? There's no more… stigma?"
"Well, I wouldn't say it's completely gone," replied Peter. "'Cause there's always people who're gonna be jerks about stuff no matter what, but there shouldn't be any." Peter dropped his gaze to the drawing sitting in his lap, his heart swooping at how intricate and beautiful it was. Steve had not only captured a perfect likeness of his father working down in his lab, down to the exact shape of his eyes and that little quirky half-smile thingy that Dad sometimes did, but Steve had also managed to capture the inner, hidden version of him that Dad only allowed certain people to see, and even then on only the rarest of occasions.
He wondered if Dad had even been aware of it at the time.
"This is from the night before we made the vibranium, isn't it?" Peter asked.
"Yes," Steve whispered. "I tried to tell myself that I was just drawing to pass the time, but… I couldn't help but want to capture how Tony looked in that moment. He had been so despondent when we were watching the old videos left behind by his father, but in that moment, when he was swept up in the marvel of what he had discovered and was so impatient to get started… it was unlike anything I'd ever seen before. Tony was… well, he was beautiful, Peter. He is beautiful."
Peter stared at the drawing for several heartbeats, the lump in his throat growing larger with each one. He had read something in one of his books once that people who were the hardest to love were usually the ones who needed it most, which pretty much described his father to a T.
And, which probably also explained why someone so completely different from him would be the perfect person to love him.
"You need to tell him," Peter finally said. "Please? Dad thinks he's unlovable, that he's done so many bad things in his life that he's unworthy of it. You need to show him that he isn't."
Steve's haunted blue eyes skipped up to meet Peter's. "I want that, Peter," he said. "I want nothing more than for us to all be a family. I'm just…"
"Afraid?" Peter asked.
"Yeah," whispered Steve, sniffing as he dropped his gaze to his lap. "The first time I fell in love… well… let's just say it didn't end well."
"What happened?" asked Peter, cringing as soon as the words left his lips. He should've known better than to ask such an obviously painful question. He really was too curious for his own good sometimes.
"He died," Steve said plainly. "I watched him fall down a mountain from a speeding HYDRA train during the war, and there was nothing I could do. It was like I was up there just to watch."
"Oh my God," Peter whispered. "I'm so sorry, Steve! I didn't know."
"There's no way you could've known," Steve answered, swiping his nose. "And it's all right. It… wouldn't've worked out with us anyway. He… um… he only liked the gals."
"Oh. Well, I guess that would've been a bit of a problem."
Steve let out a sort of morbid chuckle. "Yeah, just a bit. There was also a gal that I knew during the war, and she was pretty incredible. If I were to have ever married a gal, it probably would've been her."
"Well, if it helps at all, my dad's afraid too," Peter said. "But I'm hoping the difference between you and him is that you're not too stubborn to do something about it. Please, Steve? I just want you both to be happy."
Huffing out a sharp breath, Steve reached for the sketchbook, tracing his index finger down the side of Dad's cheek on the paper. "All right, Peter," he murmured. "I'll do it."
"Yay!" yelped Peter as he threw his arms around Steve's neck. "Oh, thank you!"
"Don't thank me yet, little guy," Steve answered, laughing as he patted Peter's back. "Let me work up the courage to ask him for a date first, all right? They do still call them dates, don't they?"
"Uh huh," Peter said happily. "At least I think so."
"That's good. At least there's one thing that hasn't changed in the last seventy years." Steve pulled back, smiling as he ruffled Peter's hair. "Now, I thought you came in here to help me unpack?"
Much like his workshop in the Malibu house, Tony's spacious lab in the Tower penthouse was also soundproofed, which was probably a good thing seeing as how he seemed to forgo sleep for work as much in New York as he had in California.
However, while the lab itself was in fact soundproof, that did not include the outside landing pad, which Steve realised late one night when his ears picked up the loud metal clank of Tony's boots touching down outside and clomping towards the entrance to the lab. From what Peter had said when they'd first arrived at the Tower, the landing pad was brand-new, designed specifically by Tony with a special robotics system to facilitate the removal of his elaborate armoured suit after experiencing a few rather bungled attempts to remove it on his own.
Tony had caught Steve earlier that day, hurriedly explaining that he'd just received some new intelligence on a possible location of the Ten Rings and was planning on scouting it out, which would require Steve to pick Peter up from school and make him dinner, something that Steve was only too happy to do. He'd already done the school pickup several times during the three weeks since school had started when Tony had been stuck at the office, and he knew Peter enjoyed it. Especially when Peter mentioned that the classroom bully hadn't yet stopped talking about the fact that "tiny little Peter" was getting picked up by none other than Captain America himself, and on a motorcycle, no less.
As the clomping noise disappeared, replaced a few moments later by the normal footsteps of Tony moving through the apartment towards the kitchen, Steve pushed himself up from his squashy armchair and headed for the door. If nothing else, he could at least let Tony know that Peter had eaten a decent dinner and had been sleeping nightmare-free so far.
He found Tony standing at the icebox—refrigerator—chugging from a bottle of orange juice while he waited for his coffee to finish brewing. Tony whipped his head around as Steve approached, his hair standing nearly on end and his eyes wild, one of which was so black and blue that it looked like he'd been repeatedly punched by one of his own gauntlets.
"Tony!" Steve gasped as his eyes swept across several other deep bruises that traced up and down his arms and shoulders, including one that ran nearly the length of his entire lower left arm. "What—, what happened to you?"
Tony pursed his lips, a flash of guilt crossing his beat-up face. "Oh, just had a little run-in with one of Rhodey's fighters, no big deal. How's Pete doing?"
"One of Rhodey's fighters?" Steve sputtered. "I'm assuming you don't mean fighters as in boxers, do you?"
"Not exactly," Tony said, trying to smile and only managing to wince. "More like multi-million dollar Air Force fighter jets. Those kind of fighters."
"But… why?" demanded Steve. "Why on earth would Colonel Rhodes want to attack you?"
"Well… 'cause he didn't exactly know it was me," replied Tony, far too nonchalantly than someone should after nearly getting knocked out of the sky by an airplane. "I hadn't told him about the suit yet, so after I blew up a couple of the Ten Rings' tanks he ordered the planes to investigate. He was just doing his job."
"But—!" stammered Steve. But what if you hadn't come back? How would I have explained this to Peter?
"I wish you'd let me help you on these missions," he said instead. "It's always better to have someone watching your back."
"It's all right, Steve," Tony insisted. He set the bottle of orange juice back in the refrigerator, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. "I'd rather have you here taking care of Pete. Besides, I made it back in one piece, so it's okay."
"Yeah, this time," Steve muttered as he leaned against one of the countertops, crossing his arms. "How many more of these missions will you have?"
"As many as it takes," replied Tony. "As many as I need to get rid of the stolen weapons and take the rest of those Ten Rings fuck—, sorry, I mean bastards out."
Steve couldn't help but smile a bit at Tony trying to correct his foul language. He had gotten so used to correcting his squad mates in the Army that it just came automatically to him, and something that never failed to make Peter giggle.
"Hmm. Well, I hope you're planning on allowing yourself to heal before you tackle the next one. You don't exactly look like you're still in one piece."
Tony scoffed as he examined the horrible purple bruises covering his arm. "Nah, I tend to heal pretty quick. Not as fast as you, but pretty quick for just your average human."
Steve gave his head a light shake, trying to rid his mind of the image of Tony getting hit with the same type of airplane that he'd seen at the base in California. "Can I get you something to eat? Peter and I made homemade pizza for dinner, and there's some leftovers in the—"
"I'm fine, Steve," Tony said firmly. "The suit took some pretty good hits during the fight, so I have some repair work I should get started on."
"Now? You just got back, why do you have to do it now?"
"Why not?" Tony asked, without a single hint of sarcasm. "Better to do it while Pete's asleep, don't you think? The bullet holes might scare him a bit."
Bullet holes?! Yeah, I would think so!
"Well, maybe because you're bleeding all over yourself, for one thing?" Steve snapped, pointing to the oozing gash by Tony's bruised left eye. "At least let me clean you up a bit first. Okay?"
Tony's shoulders sagged. "All right," he said softly. "But only 'cause I don't feel like getting blood on the floor."
"Whatever works," Steve mumbled as he pulled the first aid kit out of one of the kitchen cupboards, quickly unwrapping a gauze pad and wetting it with some antiseptic solution. Tony flinched as he gently touched the pad to his bleeding wound, then relaxed as Steve continued to dab at it, carefully cleaning off the blood.
"It doesn't look too deep," murmured Steve, applying a bandage over the area. "Don't think you'll need stitches or anything."
"Sounds good, Dr Rogers," said Tony. He flashed Steve a tired smile, causing Steve's heart to skitter. "Thanks. I'm gonna go work on the suit now."
"Okay," Steve whispered, gulping as Tony grabbed his coffee and turned to leave the kitchen. He bit down hard on his bottom lip as he watched Tony go, remembering what Peter had said about him being stubborn.
"Tony?" Steve called after his retreating back, his breath hitching when Tony poked his head back around the doorway. He felt like a teenager again, struggling to breathe against lungs that didn't want to seem to let him.
"Yeah?"
"I… um…" he started, his cheeks burning like fire and his mouth as dry as the Afghanistan desert. "I was wondering if you would like to go out to dinner with me this Friday."
Tony's eyebrows immediately shot up, and he winced, sending Steve's heart plummeting towards his knees. What the hell was I thinking? Peter was wrong, this was a horrible idea. "I mean, it's okay if you don't, I just thought that maybe—"
"No, no, Steve, it's just my eye," Tony said, pointing to his bandage. "I guess—, I guess it stings a bit more than I let on."
"Oh!" gasped Steve. "Do you need me to—"
"No, it's fine," said Tony. He was clutching his left arm in his right hand, gingerly brushing his fingers back and forth along the bruises. "I'm just… um… we eat dinner together all the time, Steve, so—"
"Well, yeah, I know," Steve cut in. He gulped in as deep a breath as he could, gripping the countertop behind him so tightly that he was surprised it hadn't yet cracked into pieces. "I was just thinking that if we called it a date, then maybe you'd allow me to kiss you goodnight afterwards."
Again, Tony's eyebrows shot up, and he winced again, shaking his head. "Goddamnit! That fuck—, sorry, freaking hurts!"
Steve's heart was hammering so hard that he felt certain that Tony could hear it echoing off his ribcage. "I mean, if you don't want to, then—"
He was cut off by Tony's fingers brushing across his lips, the touch so gentle that Steve's knees nearly buckled. "Steve," he whispered, and that haunted look that Steve had come to absolutely dread fluttered across his brown eyes. "You have no idea how much I'd—, but… I'm not… I've done too much, I've got too many demons, and… they'd just eat you alive, Steve, and there's no way I could allow that to happen. You deserve so much better."
"I think that's for me to decide, don't you?" Steve said firmly. "Besides, I've already fought against plenty of demons, and they didn't scare me too much. I don't think any of yours could be worse than the Red Skull."
"I think you might be surprised," mumbled Tony.
"Then if that's the case, we can fight them together. We work well together, Tony, you know that," pleaded Steve. He reached for Tony's hand, intertwining their fingers. "Just one date. That's all I'm asking."
The ticking of the clock above the kitchen window reminded Steve of the rhythmic pounding of a drum as he waited for Tony's answer.
"All right, Steve," he finally said as he squeezed Steve's hand. "One date."
Things are finally progressing! Of course it would be Peter that would finally knock some sense into our two stubborn boys. ;)
I can't wait to see what you think! Please don't hesitate to leave me a review! :)