At some unspecified point in his life, Tony had heard somewhere, from someone, that it took about three weeks to make a habit, but a hell of a lot longer to break the habit. Tony's not sure if he buys into that line of thought-after all, being a genius should count for something, but then, being a genius with no self-preservation probably counts against it-but he's beginning to realize that spending time with Steve Rogers has become something of a habit. And now that Steve Rogers is nowhere to be found, Tony's having to go cold-turkey.

Which explains why it's 2 AM in the morning, and Tony is buried in his labs, classic rock music blasting away as he putters and tools about and does his best to focus on anything other than thoughts of a certain super soldier and the words they had exchanged less than a day ago. Tony's doing his best not to wonder what Steve is up to, and he certainly won't ask JARVIS, but he knows that these questions are always lingering at the back of his head.

Plus, he's tired. Apparently spending time with Steve is not the only habit he's gotten into-he misses the presence of that very comfortable bed, almost as much as he missed the feeling of Steve curled up next to him in it.

It's been a long day. Tony wearily glances at the holographic display that he's been trying to focus on for the past half-hour, and almost isn't surprised to see the green and red lines beginning to blur. "JARVIS?"

"Sir?"

"Process these schematics, would you? I'm gonna take a power-nap. Wake me up when you've determined their compatibility with the prototypes I designed earlier."

"Certainly, sir. It should only take an hour."

Tony wearily leans over and rests his head against the work table. It's not his bed, and there's no company but his AI, and as much as he likes JARVIS, nothing quite can take the place of Steve's deep, even breathing. Feeling more miserable than he had felt all day, Tony nods off into sleep.

Tony wakes up to the 'clink' of a cup being set down against the surface of his work-table. When he opens his eyes, he discovers it was set down right in front of his face, which is also on the surface of the work-table. He takes a moment and stares at the side of the white mug, and faintly remembers falling asleep while waiting on JARVIS to process some schematics. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath as he raises his head and stretches his arms up over his head. He feels his back pop in several places and he groans at the sudden relief.

As he lowers his arms, he opens his eyes, and sees Steve leaning against the table, his own brown mug in his hands.

"Good morning." Steve greets, grinning.

"I'll be the judge of that." Tony mutters as he takes a slow drink of the gratifyingly hot coffee in front of him. Even in his bleary state, he can see that Steve isn't mad at him any more, and he won't deny he's delighted and relieved. The anxiety had been a constant whisper in the back of his mind as he worked, no matter what he tried to do to kill it. "What time is it?" he asks.

"10:45am." Steve states, matter-of-factly, setting his own cup down. Tony narrows his eyes.

"JARVIS," he says, threateningly.

"Yes, sir?"

"You told me those schematics would only take an hour."

"That is correct."

"That was at two this morning."

"That is also correct."

"So, how am I just waking up now at almost eleven?"

"I didn't have the heart to wake you, sir." The AI responds, with what sounds like mock-reproach.

"JARVIS, you smart-ass." Tony says smirking. He knows JARVIS intentionally let him sleep, and he's as annoyed as he is endeared. JARVIS, despite what other may say, is one of the best people he knows. He lets his gaze come back to Steve, who's grinning from ear-to-ear. He fights down the butterflies in his stomach at seeing Steve genuinely happy, and takes another drink of his coffee.

Steve can't help but enjoy observing Tony and JARVIS banter. Everyone likes JARVIS, and they all have managed to accept his almost-humanity, to one degree or another, but no one is as wholly comfortable with him as Tony is, and it's fun to watch.

"So," Tony starts, setting his coffee cup down, and looking up at Steve, "How are you?"

"I'm..." Steve pauses, looking for the right word, a little unsure what to say, "getting there."

Tony nods, and if Steve didn't know better, he'd swear Tony moved like he was going to reach out and touch Steve, but held back. "You were okay, yesterday?"

"Yeah, Bruce and I talked for a while," Steve says, "And then I went to a bookstore out on Fifth."

"Really?" Tony says, eyebrows raising. Steve can tell Tony understands how big of a step that was for him, and he nods in response.

"I got about fifteen books, I don't know, I didn't specifically count." he shrugs and takes long sip of his coffee.

"No... panic issues?" Tony asks, and Steve knows why Tony sounds so hesitant, almost scared to ask.

"No, I was fine," he reassures Tony, but moving on before Tony can talk again. "Listen, I talked to Bruce, and he explained a lot and I just wanted to apologi-"

"Ah!" Tony interrupts, raising a hand in Steve's direction, "No apologies in the lab. They make Dum-E cry."

"Tony, seriously." Steve starts again, feeling his face flush in shame, "I shouldn't have-"

"Have you ever seen a robot with no eyes cry? I'll admit it's entertaining, but it's pretty pathetic at the same time..."

"I just want-"

"Listen," Tony cuts him off again, but this time his tone is more serious. "Both of us made mistakes yesterday that we wish we could re-do. Agreed?"

Steve nods, "Agreed."

"So let's just let it go and move on." Tony says, waving his hand in a vague-ish gesture and downing the rest of his coffee.

"Okay." Steve agrees.

"So, did you decide anything after talking our team counselor?" Tony asks, "And let's try to ignore the irony of that little title, shall we?"

Steve grins, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Yeah, I did."

"And?" Tony prompts.

Steve starts to speak, and stops. He's not exactly sure what to say. "I don't think I can do this by myself," he admits after a long moment of silence, the ache in his chest throbbing in time to his heart beat and a small shiver of sadness makes his skin crawl. "I think being able to talk to someone without worrying about how it would affect the team or what my team-mates think of me, might go a long way."

"It might not." Tony points out. "You might try it and hate it. It's not for everyone."

Steve nods. He knows there's always a chance of things failing, and he's glad Tony's being honest enough to admit that, and not sugar-coating anything to patronize him or give him false hope. "Yeah, but if I don't at least try, what else do I have?"

"You have me." Tony states, and Steve can't help but laugh at little at himself, because yeah, he's got Tony but not like he wants at all. "You have the team, your friends. And if this doesn't work, then we find you something that does."

Steve gives a small rueful smile and nods.

Tony continues on. "I don't want you to agree to something you don't want, just because other people think it's a good idea. That would just defeat the purpose, ya know?"

"Yeah," Steve answers. "I know, but it makes sense, and I'm open to anything that even has a chance of helping right now."

"So that would be a 'yes' to the therapy, then?" Tony asks, gently.

"That's a 'yes.'"

Tony looks pleased and Steve doesn't want to admit how happy that makes him. He's making this choice for himself, not to get Tony's approval, he reminds himself. Even if Tony hated the idea, he would still do it. Bruce said it was something they decided to talk to Steve about, so Bruce still would've talked to him about it, even without Tony.

Steve knows it really would be enough for Tony to let it all go right now and never mention the whole fight again. But Steve can't help what he has to say. He knows it'll itch under his skin under he finally gets it out, so he just says it. "I really am sorry, though."

"Yeah, me, too," comes Tony's quiet reply, and if his expression is anything to go by, Tony's as surprised by his own words as Steve is.

Steve can tell when it's time to change the subject and this is it. He coughs, and Tony runs his hand through his hair, before getting up and bringing up a complex display of wiring on the holographic terminal nearby.

"I have a question," Steve says, watching Tony's fingers deftly moving over the display, quick and precise in their movements. He knows his question is stupid, but it's been bugging him ever since the bookstore.

"Shoot." Tony replies.

"I thought no one recognized me outside of my uniform," Steve tells him, his face scrunching up in uncertainty.

Tony stops, and turns to Steve, his expression serious. "They don't. They shouldn't, anyway. Why, did something happen yesterday?"

Steve instantly regrets even bringing such a trivial thing up. "Not really. There were just a few people at the bookstore yesterday acting a little weird. I figured they must've recognized me, but then I thought that was impossible."

"It is. Aside from myself, thanks to my public announcement, all of the Avengers are anonymous to the general public. No names or pictures have ever been released. Safety and all that jazz."

"Oh." Steve doesn't really understand, but okay.

"Who acted weird?" Tony asked, turning back to the display, rotating it and inspecting it closely.

"Uh, the girls in front of me at the register," he says, feeling slightly stupid. He knew SHIELD would never reveal his personal information, but then that leaves him with no explanation for why those girls acted the way they did.

"How were they weird?" Tony asks, smirking slightly, raising an eyebrow. He's already getting a good idea of where this is going.

"They kept staring at me and giggling." Steve says, bemused, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, it was weird. They'd look me up and down and just start giggling. My best guess was that they recognized me somehow."

Tony's face lights up, and Steve knows that was not a good sign. If it makes Tony's face light up with glee, there's at least an 80% chance it's not a good thing. "Oh, Steve, you are just adorable."

Steve feels his face instantly flush, and he glares at Tony's patronizing tone. "Tony," he growls, his tone a warning.

"You really don't see it, do you?" Tony asks, smiling fondly at Steve.

"See what?" Steve demands. He hates when people make him feel like he's missing something.

"Steve, they weren't giggling over 'Captain America; National Icon,'" Tony says, making quotation marks in the air, "They were giggling over Steve Rogers; Undeniable Hottie."

"What?" Steve asks, stunned.

"Yeah," Tony confirms, "I'm willing to bet that was just a group of girls in poor control of their hormones."

"I... but they..." Steve stammers, face burning hot. "I'm not-"

"Yeah," Tony says, "You are, actually."

And Steve stops. Every muscle in his body freeze and he looks, really looks at Tony. There's something in the way he's looking at Steve right now, something bright and fond and unidentifiable, and he just said Steve was... and together with the almost-desperate want that's been aching in his chest for weeks that he's been trying to suffocate, he can't help it. He's not thinking about the teenage girls anymore. His thoughts are focused entirely on Tony, and he shouldn't... but he wants...

He leans forward and presses his lips to Tony's.

Tony's a scientist. His entire life is based around facts, statistics, and probabilities. He observes the data, makes theories, tests them, and then uses the results to formulate the best plan, deciding whether it's calculating what materials he should use, or figuring out the best wiring configuration. It's as ingrained into his mind as how to tie his shoelaces. It's a part of his personality. Before he does anything, he weighs risks, and calculates possible results. It's gotten him very far in life.

And Tony's 99.99% sure if Steve had casually strolled into his lab and stabbed him in the foot, the shock of it wouldn't even come close to how he's feeling right now.

It's awkward, and tense, and their lips don't match up quite right and Steve's pressing too hard, his obvious inexperience shining through, and isn't that just marvelous. It's better, a lot better, (holy shit, is it better), when Tony puts his hands on Steve's jaw and pulls him away, just enough to soften the kiss, Steve moaning softly as his hands come up to grip at the sides of Tony's t-shirt.

It's slow, and soft, and basically everything Tony expected kissing Steve would be like, and so different from most of the kisses Tony has received in his life. Steve's magnificient at following Tony's lead, his hands moving down, to slide under Tony's t-shirt and touch the skin at his sides. Tony's pretty sure he's found Heaven. At least, until he opens his mouth, trying to deepen the kiss, and Steve suddenly lets go. He jumps back like he's been electrically shocked, and okay, Tony pushed too fast. Simple enough problem to fix. Except that when he steps towards Steve and goes to say as much, Steve is practically running out of the lab.

What the hell?

He stands stock-still. Don't get him wrong, he's gotten less than enthusiastic responses before. Alcohol makes bad decisions sound great, and he's gotten every reaction from being slapped in the face to them simply not kissing him back. This, however, is the first time someone has ever run away.

Figures it'd be Steve.

It takes another full minute for him to gain enough sense to realize he should probably go talk to Steve.

"JARVIS, where'd he go?"

"Captain Rogers is currently on his own floor."

"Great. At least he's still in the building." Tony sighs.

It's only a few moments before Tony's stepping off the elevator and into the living room he spends more time in than his own now. Steve is sitting on the far end of his sofa, hand gliding swiftly over the sketchpad in front of him. Tony suddenly notices the stack of sketchbooks and drawing supplies laid out on the coffee table. As he gets closer and sits down next to Steve (close, but not touching), he sees a note lying next to the stack that he recognizes as Bruce's handwriting.

"It's good enough. I promise."

Tony's not even going to pretend he understands what that's about. He watches as Steve draw what can only be a portrait of Peggy.

"She's beautiful," Tony comments, because it's true. Steve's done her justice, making her lips full and eyes bright. He can see why Steve was smitten with her.

"She was." Steve agrees quietly, hand still going over lines and shading in minute details carefully. His talent is obvious and elegant, and Tony's just a little enamored with it

As much as Tony wants to know what the hell just happened, he's not stupid enough to think that pressing the issue will help either of them. He can tell that Steve has retreated to a place, both physically and mentally, where he feels comfortable, so he's going to respect that. "Tell me about her," Tony prompts, trying not to sound demanding. He suddenly wants to know more about this stunning woman from Steve's past.

"You've heard me talk about her, Tony." Steve says, careful and unsure; and yeah, that's true, he's heard a little bit about her, but...

"I've heard you mention her, big difference," Tony argues and Steve gives a small shrug in acknowledgment. "C'mon. What was she like when you met her?"

Tony sees the smile form on Steve's face as he remembers. "She punched a corpsman in the face."

Whoa. Now that's a helluva first impression. "Nice. Did she have a reason or just...?"

"Yeah, we had just gotten there at the camp, and he was just being a jerk. He made fun of her accent, and then he was just plain old disrespectful, not acknowledging her authority, so she... clocked him right in the jaw. Knocked him to the ground."

"And you were in love," Tony teased, watching the blush spread across his cheeks.

"Pretty much, yeah," Steve nods.

"I didn't know she even had an accent."

"English. I loved it."

"I'm starting to think there wasn't a lot about her you didn't love." Tony says, and he suddenly starts regretting the direction of the conversation. Maybe right now isn't the best time to discuss old loves.

"There wasn't." Steve says, but he doesn't sound upset at discussing Peggy. He sounds fond and nostalgic. "You know she shot at me once?"

Tony can't help but laugh at that. "Seriously?"

"Yeah. I don't know why. I musta done something that really made her angry, and, uh, when they gave me the shield, I asked her what she thought of it. She picked up a gun and fired it at me, quite a few times. The shield deflected them, but it was uh, intense."

"You mean 'scary.'"

"That, too," Steve admits, laughing a little.

Tony can see why Steve would love this woman, all fire and spunk. Steve looks happy and relaxed and Tony would do anything to see him this comfortable all the time. "She sounds like she was an amazing woman."

Steve nods, as he artfully writes Peggy's name across the bottom of the picture.

Tony has to snap his attention back to the issue at hand. He has followed Steve down here for a reason.

"So..." Tony says, faux-casual, and he sees Steve tense up, not at all fooled. "Wanna tell me what that was about just now?"

"I'm sorry," Steve says, quietly, not looking away from the paper, leaving Tony startled. An apology isn't what he expected. At all. Steve just keeps throwing curveballs.

"Uh, what?" Tony asks, and didn't that just sound brilliant. He mentally kicks himself.

"I'm sorry." Steve repeats, this time a little louder, and Tony's still too floored to stop him as he continues. "I shouldn't have been so forward, it was inappropriate of me; especially since I know you're not... interested."

"Excuse you, I was very interested. Still am interested." Tony says, only a little offended. How the fuck did Steve miss Tony trying to put his tongue in his mouth? How much more interested in a kiss can you get? Tony may not have been alive in the 40's but he's pretty sure trying to stick your tongue in someone's mouth was a clear indicator of interest back then, too.

Steve finally stops drawing and turns to stare at Tony, dumbfounded. "But... You're not- I mean, I didn't think you were, uh, you know-"

"Gay?" Tony asks, and Steve nods, blushing furiously. "Truth time, Cap, I bat for both teams." He makes sure he says it easily, like it's the most natural thing in the world, because it is, and he wants to make sure Steve gets that.

Tony can see the exact moment comprehension clicks in Steve's head, and he hears the soft 'oh' that goes with it. Still...

"But... you're always with women. Aren't you?" Steve argues, feebly.

"Easier for the tabloids." Tony explains. "I didn't want to have to put up with any kind of gay rumors on top of everything else, so when it comes to quick, dirty fun, I stick with women."

Steve nods slowly, "I see."

"Besides, let's be honest. If anyone here is obligated to be straight, I believe it's the Golden Boy of America over here." Tony quips, playfully, trying to bring a little levity into the situation.

Steve gives a small rueful laugh, "Uh, no. Definitely not straight."

"I'm gonna go ahead and guess from the picture in your lap and that... kiss, you're playing for both teams, too?" This is feeling like a dream, and Tony almost wants to pinch himself. There's no way he's this fucking lucky.

Steve nods, face burning bright red, and god, if he gets any more adorable, Tony is going to lose all ability to function. Not even fair.

"Can I just..." Tony starts to speak, because this is driving him crazy, "I was all over you up there. How did you get 'inappropriate' and 'not interested' out of that?"

Steve winces, "Well, because..." He stops and looks at Tony, really looks at him and Tony can see the moment when Steve realizes and understands just how stupid his conclusion was. "I'm... not really sure, actually," he admits, sheepishly, with a contrite little grin. "I... I don't have much experience with all of this, kissing and... things. Barely any with women and absolutely none with guys. I just. Panicked."

"None with guys?" Tony asks, a little tense. He's Steve's first guy?

"I've... noticed guys before. That part's not new." And Tony really appreciated how calm Steve is keeping himself, despite the fact he's blushing hard enough to make Tony's face ache in sympathy. "But back then, it wasn't something you acted on like that. I guess that's why I just... flipped my wig with you."

"I get it." Tony says, grinning, just a little. Steve is kind of a dork with his goofy 40's slang, and maybe that shouldn't attract Tony as much as it does, but he's okay with it. He watches as Steve carefully runs his fingers over the drawing in his lap.

"I gotta ask, though, was that a spur-of-the-moment thing, or...?" Tony needs to know. He needs to know if Steve's thought about them the way Tony has, or if it was just part of Steve's current emotional upheaval. Some kind of misplaced affection from spending too much time together, or misguided gratitude to Tony for trying to help him. He refuses to push Steve, won't try to influence him, but he needs to know, for both of their sakes. He tries to keep his heart from beating out of his chest as Steve answers.

"No." Steve says looking at Tony with a small, almost indulgent, grin, "Been thinking about doing that for a long time."

"How long?"

"Months."

And it's in that moment, Tony loses it. The words he'd given up on ever hearing just came out of Steve's mouth and Tony barely gets out a 'me, too' before he's pulling the drawing out of Steve's lap and putting himself there instead. He's got one knee on either side of Steve's hips, his hands on either side of his neck and Steve's huge hands sliding up his back.

Their lips meet easily this time, both of them prepared for the contact, Steve moaning softly and pulling Tony closer. Tony goes with it, happy as hell to be able to give Steve whatever he wants. He nips at Steve's lower lip and tries to remember how to breathe as Steve take the time to suck a hickey on his neck. He's pretty sure no one's given him a hickey since high school and somehow that makes it more perfect than it already was. When Steve decides he's done and moves back up to his mouth, he lingers a fraction of an inch away, almost touching but not quite, the damn tease. But then he smiles, just a small flash of pure joy, and his mouth is back on Tony's.

And this time, when he opens his mouth, Steve is right there with him.