The next day, Steve woke early. He'd still had dreams of Peggy, and nightmares about Bucky, and the feeling of unknown bone crunching under his shield. There had been fewer though, and he'd actually managed a few hours of uncomplicated, restful sleep. After a shower and a shave, he threw his worn clothes into the laundry, and pulled on a set of sweats, forgoing underwear for comfort. He cleared away the packets littering his living space, returned the coffee mugs to the kitchen and washed them. Hawkeye entered as he was doing so, and an awkward silence fell.
"Oh! Uhh, hey Steve" the man started "Look, Nat told me-"
"Hey, it's ok," Steve interrupted, smiling broadly. Clint's sudden shyness amused him. "I'm not upset with you, I've just been wrestling with some stuff I guess."
"Really?" Hawkeye's eyebrows shot up, "I don't know, I guess I figured-"
"Oh, it's not that I'm not interested." Clint gaped outright. Steve found himself enjoying toying with the sweet, simple man, "Because I am. You and Nat both seem like you'd be a lot of fun, and I know you fool around together sometimes. I'm just still finding my feet here. I don't want to rush anything, and I don't want to hurt anyone, myself included." Steve continued to smile, as Clint sputtered and nodded. He realised he was enjoying surprising someone. Since he'd woken up here, it seemed everyone knew each detail of his history, all neatly written up in a file. It felt good to be a little unexpected. Not to mention he'd known the others had been speculating, their own sexual interests each broad and overlapping.
"So let's just see how it goes, yeah?" He added, when it became apparent that the bowman was too flustered to contribute.
"Uhh, yeah. Cap. Yup, sounds good. Sounds real, real good."
"Good" Steve grinned, winking as he selected a freshly washed mug, filled it with coffee, and walked out of the kitchen with deliberate slowness. He knew full well that Clint's eyes had been firmly glued to the obvious print of his cock bouncing in his sweats, and he allowed the man his eyeful. Pleased by his own flirtations, he sipped his coffee as he padded down the hall. He maybe hadn't needed to rile up the young man quite so much, but he'd felt Clint deserved to feel a little uncomfortable after his behaviour the other night.
As he closed the door to his rooms behind him, Steve was greeted by JARVIS' voice emitting from the many hidden speakers.
"Captain Rogers, Mr Stark has asked me to extend an invitation to you. He requests the pleasure of your company this evening. If you would like to accept, he will call upon you in your rooms at 8pm. He says to wear your best shirt."
Steve made his way over to the window as he listened, watching the flight of a bird as it passed not too far off. Grinning until his cheeks dimpled a little, he agreed, and thanked the AI.
"Just a small personal addition Sir."
"Uh huh"
"I believe that Mr Stark's definition of a best shirt may be a football jersey."
Steve laughed throatily.
"Ok, thanks for the heads up JARVIS."
Tony meanwhile, paced in his lab. He did have his own set of rooms, of course, but his lab was where he did his thinking. Since the man's brain found it almost impossible to just switch off and shut up, that was consequently where he spent most of his time.
He felt anxious, which was a deeply unpleasant experience for him. He was used to wired, restless, even obsessive and neurotic. His nervous system was generally outclassed however, by his large ego when it came to personal decisions, usually resulting in an unshakable certainty that his choices were, of course, the right ones.
This though, this was different.
He'd asked the Captain out on a date.
Normally he would never call a meeting a date that he hadn't explicitly expressed was romantic when asking. It couldn't be a date if both parties weren't aware it was one. And yet, every time he thought about it, he couldn't stop that word from ringing through his skull. He wanted it to be a date.
"JARVIS!" He yelled.
"I assure you Sir, my microphones are quite sensitive. You did install them. There is no need to shout" JARVIS responded calmly, his holographic globe appearing above the bench.
"Fuck you too JARVIS" He let out a disgusted sigh "This is ridiculous"
"Mmm" offered JARVIS. Tony began to think the AI had developed a sense of enjoyment in irritating him. He glared at the undulating globe of light, deciding not to give the piece of junk the satisfaction of engagement. He'd much rather continue to talk about himself instead.
"Here I am, freaking out like a kid about whether this is romantic or not, when obviously it's not! I don't even know if the guy likes men or not, let alone me."
"Would you like me to call your therapist Sir?"
"What?" Tony exclaimed, "I don't have a therapist"
"Oh, of course Sir. My mistake."
Tony spun on his heel, shooting a seething look at his assistant. He raised a threatening finger, mouth open, no comeback at the ready.
"Agh!" Was all he managed. As intended, the banter broke him out of his spiral, and he threw himself into his chair. "I just- I like knowing things, that's all JARVIS. I hate being on such unsteady ground. And normally, I wouldn't even care. If someone doesn't like me, which I mean, come on, when does that happen?"
JARVIS' light globe shifted silently.
"Anyway." Tony continued "If someone didn't want me back, that's fine, no problem. I'm not interested in fucking around with anyone who's not into me. But with Steve. I really, really want him to."
After a beat of quiet, waiting to see if the man was done, JARVIS offered,
"And? Perhaps he does"
"I mean, maybe? But he's from a different time JARVIS. They had different ideas about this stuff. Of course, queer people have always been around. But what if he is, and never acknowledged it? What if he's still afraid, and hates me for it if I tell him I like him? He might not have ever been with a man. He might only like certain people, and then only some of the time. It's not like it's always a tick box thing you know."
"Perhaps a cup of coffee would help Sir?"
Tony sat up straight at the suggestion, apparently missing the oddness of the utter non sequitur.
"Yes JARVIS, that's an excellent idea." It was, clearly, a terrible idea, "the first one you've had in ages" Tony hauled himself up and set off for the kitchen, diverted and directed with the ease of a pebble and a stream.
As Tony neared the end of the hall to the kitchen, he caught the sound of urgent whispering. Slowing, he drew a little closer and listened out. He couldn't imagine who would be whispering, or why. After a moment, it became clear.
"No, Nat, seriously. He was just in here, and I'm telling you. He's gay!" It was Hawkeye's voice, and his words made Tony pause. He normally would never eavesdrop on a private conversation, and yet…
"Wait, really? Gay?" Shot back Natasha's voice, hushed, but not low like Clint's.
"What? No. I mean he's bi, or I don't know, whatever. But he said he wanted to fuck me Nat!" Tony made to enter, he didn't hold a huge interest in Clint's sex life.
"Woah. Jesus. Cap actually said that? As in, fuck, and you?" Tony stilled. He could hear a little more, he decided.
"Ugh, no, of course not! Nat, jeez." Clint hissed in exasperation. Nat now laughed at him outright.
"Ok, I'm getting confused. Take a breath, and tell me, Clint, what actually, literally, genuinely passed the man's lips?"
"Oh I don't know. He was in here, and he was talking, and his giant cock was swinging around. I wasn't taking notes for god's sake." Nat laughed again, offering an 'uh, huh' before Clint continued, "Something about taking it slow, and not wanting to hurt anyone."
"Ok babe" Nat chuckled, 'Sounds like real hot stuff"
As the two devolved into quiet bickering, Tony pulled back and stepped away. Glaring around the hallway, he tapped the earpiece he kept tucked in his right ear, and whispered,
"JARVIS, did you do this on purpose? You aren't supposed to be able to listen in on conversations you aren't a part of"
The AI's voice replied clearly through the tiny speaker, for Tony's ears only.
"Yes, of course I did, and it worked perfectly"
"Uh, ok" Tony shot snarkily "And the creepy listening?"
"I get bored." If Tony didn't know any better, and when it came to tone, he generally didn't, he would have said that the computer's voice boarded on curt indignance.
"We are going to talk about this later. A big talk. With hammers and welding torches, and code wiping viruses"
"You're most welcome for the assistance, Sir"
Tony growled in response.
"Oh, and Sir, you should probably skip the coffee. You've had quite enough already"
Dressing in a pair of snug blue jeans, which he rolled the cuffs of, and a thick white cotton tee, Steve threw on his buttery soft leather jacket from Nat and looked very, very good. He knew it, and he felt it, which was a pleasant change from recent days. He wore his favourite plain, sturdy brown leather boots as always, with classic tall white athletic socks that were banded with red and blue rings at the top.
He sat in one of the chairs surrounding the coffee table, and picked up the book he was currently reading: Their Eyes Were Watching God. It had been given to him by Bruce, a surprising gesture that had touched him. Though he had been enjoying the beautiful writing immensely so far, he found himself drifting over paragraphs without reading, having to jump his eyes back and figure out where he'd stopped paying attention. His knee started to bounce gently, disrupting his concentration further. He checked his modest, plain watch, nestled amongst the fine hairs of his forearm. Its strap matched the brown leather of his boots and jacket. It showed a quarter to eight, and so he went back to his reading, and the drumming of his foot on the thick carpet. He knew why he felt nervous of course. He'd been here before, the flutter in the pit of his stomach, and the bubbling sense of anticipation in his chest. It was all familiar, he was just surprised by it. He hadn't been expecting to feel this way, but then, he knew well that there was no rhyme to these things. He felt the way he felt, and he simply had to figure out what to do with it.
He checked his watch again, to find that only two more minutes had dripped by. Letting out an exasperated sigh, he jumped out of the chair and paced over to the window. Dark had well and truly fallen by now. Daylight being vibrant but still fleeting yet in the season. This is just silly, he thought to himself. He'd been in complete control just that morning while he'd teased Hawkeye like a playful cat, his old, confident self coming out. Now that he was about to hang out properly with Tony for the evening, suddenly he had the jitters. Couldn't he just treat it like any other evening?
"Just be cool Rogers, be cool. You got this. Just like any other night"
A firm knock sounded from his door. He strode over to it, just managing not to break into a jog, for the sake of his pride. He opened it to see Tony standing in the entryway, hands thrust into his pockets and grinning at him like a fool. He wore black jeans that were a little worn at the knees, a light grey tee, and a black sports jacket, the lapel of which had popped up a little at the back.
"Hey, I'm early, sorry man."
"No, it's good" Steve grinned back at him, feeling just as foolish "It's great"
"It's great?" Tony asked wryly.
Steve laughed softly at himself.
"Yeah, it is. And what about it?" he shot back. "Come here" he ordered gently.
Tony stepped forward, a little uncertainly, as the Captain shuffled close, and lifted his hands up around Tony's shoulders.
"Your collar." He explained as he deftly tucked it back, and patted the man on both shoulders. "Ready to go? Actually, where are we going?"
Tony looked Steve in the eyes. He was able to feel the man's breath on his face, neither of them having yet stepped away. His smile, having dropped away in the tension of their closeness, slowly returned, pulling up more at one corner than the other.
"Tonight my friend, you have the pleasure of joining me at Dumper's Pocket Palace."
"Oh Jesus Tony."
"You're gonna love it" he slapped the Captain firmly on the side of the hip "Lets go."