The Planning
A/N: I am so sorry for making you guys wait this long but I've had some…delicate personal problems. I don't wish to elaborate at this time but basically depression, alcohol, and academic probation sums it up. Do know that I am truly sorry and I hope you enjoy this Christmas present.
p.s. FCTSyndrome. yes, it's my A3O account. Thank you for notifying me anyway, I have had my work posted without authorization before.
The next two months were hard on the English citizens, and made those around them saddened that they could not do more to help, but the grieving stage was starting to slow as time helped dull the harshness of the mental and emotional wounds gained during Andy's passing.
Harry was back to work at the café and living above the shop again while Teddy went back to school with Harry, Luna, or any of the Avengers plus Pepper, Happy and Rhodey being his escorts to and from the brick building, insuring his popularity since he knew the superheroes. Both would still gaze off into the distance every now and then, when that happened chocolate was immediately pushed under their nose so that they would cheer up.
Steve had taken to sitting at the café from eight to ten, watching to make sure Harry was okay. It had amused him to no end when he had discovered Harry was most decidedly not a morning person. Sure he woke up early and could cook up anything the team wished but he was doing so more from muscle memory than actually being alert. The first time he had been cooking after the whole team was in the tower again in a lull between missions and actually awake, Harry had walked right into Clint on his way to set food on the table, grunted, and proceeded to run into Bruce who had thankfully just finished his tea, so when the cup was jostled no heart rate went up due to scalding liquid.
Steve kept telling himself it was for Harry's safety and not because the younger man was adorable as he sleepily tried to navigate anything that wasn't his kitchen in that state. The fact he could avoid bumping into customers and get their orders to them safely before 10 o'clock hit was a small miracle in itself.
By the end of Steve's first week observing Harry at the café he had an intimate knowledge of the menu and a sketchbook filled of Harry, whether it was of him chatting with the regulars, putting out fresh croissants, or rubbing the sleep out of his eyes in a child-like fashion with a curled fist.
By the end of the month Steve had an entire shelf of sketchbooks dedicated to Harry and Teddy. Some drawings were more innocent and bubbly of the two interacting and just a day at the cafe whilst others came from a…rather wistful imagination on Steve's part. Such as Harry blushing, Harry curled up on the couch asleep, Harry bundled up for winter watching the snow fall with child-like excitement, Harry at a beach reclining on the sand.
By the end of the second month, Harry finally caught a glimpse of what Steve had been drawing; it was an innocent picture of Harry brushing Teddy's crazed hair while both were dressed in their pajamas in the morning if the shading of the light from the living-room window was of any indication.
"I never realized how good of an artiste you are Steve, this is beautiful." Harry exclaimed, looking over his shoulder from serving another customer.
Steve's neck made an ominous cracking sound as he lifted it and looked behind so quickly anyone else would have had a terrible case of whiplash, "Um, thank you." He said, quickly succumbing to an involuntary impression of a rather ripe tomato.
"It's brilliant, can I look at some more of your drawings when there's a break?" Harry asked, green doe eyes sparkling at the blonde.
"Yes, of course." Steve managed to say without stuttering, a bonus as he viewed it, before he realized that the entirety of the sketchpad was Harry and Teddy or Harry interacting with the Avengers but the detail was obviously all focused on Harry, everyone else were simple lines.
Steve sighed, rubbing his eyes before taking another sip of the new coffee Harry had put on the menu since it was getting chiller, it was a hot chocolate that tasted like yokshire patty and even though the mint was overpowering it was addictive. He sat, staring into the hot chocolate for a while before nodding and making up his mind: he would ask Harry out as he showed him the sketches. No backing out and being a coward about it-he was going to do it.
"Hey Steve, can I see them now?" Harry asked, smiling as he sat down across from him, with a butter-chocolate croissant and a vanilla latte.
Steve nodded and passed over his sketchbook hesitantly, "Harry, I was wondering," he started as Harry starred at the detail put into his hair and Teddy's teeth before flipping through the pages.
"Yes Steve?" Harry asked, looking up.
"I was wondering if you-we could-do you want to grab dinner with me sometime?" Steve asked, stumbling over how to form the question.
Harry looked up and a blush started to grow and spread across his cheeks, making the usual ivory coloring change to a cotton-candy pink, "I would like that." He admitted quietly, with an unusually shy smile gracing his features.
"Tomorrow at seven? I know a great little place around the block." Steve requested, gaining confidence with Harry's reaction.
Harry nodded and looked up as a horde of people came in, "Tomorrow at seven it is." He said, standing and rushing to the front with his plate and mug.
Steve smiled and looked down to see the last sketch Harry had seen and it was of Harry curled around Teddy protectively as they slept, Teddy clutching onto his little plush Cap that Steve had signed all those days ago.
Then Steve realized what just happened. He had asked Harry out…and Harry said yes.
He needed Tony.
Tony, as always, was in his workshop when Steve went to find him. His hair was a mess, sticking up more so than Harry's, thick with the grease that had been transferred there from his fingers after sweeping his hands through it aggravated at whatever project he was working on. Face covered in sweat and dirt and grime with dark bruising under his eyes. His work table was littered with coffee mugs at all stages of being filled and film covering it and a plethora of empty mugs and one tall glass that was some bright green concoction with brown streaks all through it that Steve suspected was DUM-E's latest attempt at a smoothie.
"Tony? When was the last time you slept? Or ate?"
"Don't know, don't care. Busy. Whadya want?" Tony asked as he welded something that just looked like a mangled mess to Steve.
"I have a date with Harry tomo-"
Tony dropped his torch and turned everything off, fixing him with an attentive stare. For the genius who couldn't sit still for a whole of thirty seconds at a meal and was always playing with something or working on his tablet, this focus of pure attention was unnerving.
"..tomorrow. I was going to take him to that little Turkish food place around the corner from the café."
"We are going shopping." Tony announced, moving past Steve to the door of the workshop.
"What? Tony, are you okay?"
"We are going shopping. Meet me in the garage in an hour. JARVIS! Straight to my room, no pausing the elevator for anyone."
"Of course sir."
Steve continued to stand where he had when the conversation started.
"JARVIS, what just happened?"
"I believe Mr. Stark is planning on taking you clothes shopping for your date with Mr. Potter."
Anthony Edward Stark knew many things, and one of the things he knew all too well was how to dress nicely.
Steve was pulled to two different tailors and six different stores with price tags on the clothing that made Steve blush and one place that didn't have price tags at all. All under the reasoning that no friend of Tony's was going to date someone who dressed like a grandpa out on the farm.
In the end, Steve came out alive with seven new pairs of jeans, nineteen new shirts, two dozen new ties, four sport coats, and several dozen suits. Steve felt like a life-size doll at Stark's disposal but, he had to admit, after all the wolf-whistles and heated stares along with phone numbers from several different women and men, Stark might just have something there about Steve's fashion.
"Now, I'm Harry, you pick me up, how are you going to do it?" Tony asked, typing away frantically on his phone.
"Um, with a smile and some flowers?" Steve asked, making Tony stop and turn around swiftly.
"Harry is not a girl Steve, he doesn't like flowers because they make him think of funerals or weddings. Mostly funerals with all the ones he's attended." He said, rolling his eyes and glaring a little at Steve before getting a thoughtful look, "Wait, have you ever seen Stranger than Fiction? It's a movie."
"Um, no. Should I?" Steve took out his little black book and added it in while Tony was rambling.
"That's perfect, you'll take him flours!" Tony exclaimed.
Steve stared at him dumbly, "But you just said Harry doesn't like flowers!"
"Not flowers Capcicle! F-L-O-U-R-S!" With gusto, Tony explained his plan…and it was a damn good plan.
