Author's Note: I'm messing with ages and some backstory a lot in this one. This is set after the first Avengers movie, as per usual. Not connected to any of my other Avengers stories. Hope you enjoy!

Tony wasn't sure how he hadn't seen it before. Sure, it wasn't like they all hung out and became an instant family after the Battle of New York, the way people liked to believe. He didn't even see any of them besides Bruce for about a month after. Fury had asked him again about officially joining his group of world savers, but Tony had declined again. It was one thing to come help in a pinch, but he wasn't going to be on standby to run errands for Shield. He had happily gone back to his boring, billionaire lifestyle. Pepper sure appreciated the lack of danger he faced, and seeing where that relationship could go became his top priority.

His first clue came when he bumped into Steve while he was on a walk. He wasn't even sure what he was doing in this neighborhood. There had been a few SI meetings nearby and Pepper kept talking to him about the benefits of fresh air and whatnot. So there he was, walking like an idiot through a crowd of kids as they milled about outside of a local art school. Luckily no one was really paying attention to him, so he wasn't being bothered, but that was always a risk while being out in public. It wasn't that he didn't like all the love he received, but he wasn't in the mood for it today.

Tony jogged across the street, needing to get away from the general smell of young adults. It was all body spray, sweat, and coffee and it reminded him too much of his youth. Hell, it reminded him too much of one of his all night sessions in the lab. But he was trying to get better, so he didn't need the temptation.

He was just walking past someone sitting alone on a bench when a tingle of recognition went up his spine. Tony would know those broad shoulders anywhere and they were currently hunched over, obscuring something in his lap. He could keep going and escape without being seen, but he did have a bit more time before his next meeting. He could spare a minute or two to check up on an old, not quite friend.

"Fancy meeting you here, Rogers," Tony smirked, plopping down on the bench next to him. The super soldier must've been concentrating hard because he jumped nearly a foot in surprise at Tony's sudden appearance.

"What- oh, Stark," Steve said, huffing out a startled breath. "What are you doing here?"

"I was just about to ask you the same thing," Tony replied, peeking over Steve's arm to see what he was so focused on. It was a book, but Steve slammed it shut before he could get a look at what was on the page.

"Nothing. Just enjoying the weather," Steve shrugged.

"Enjoying the co-eds?" Tony grinned, wagging his eyebrows suggestively. Steve's face turned red and he pursed his lips in annoyance. "Oh relax Rogers. It's a college, so all legal adults. They might be a tad younger than you, but that doesn't matter."

"Right," Steve scoffed.

"Okay, technically decades younger than you, but the point still stands."

"That's not what I was doing here," Steve sighed, hesitantly handing over his book. Tony was surprised by the move, but covered his reaction, accepting the book and opening it to the first page. And what he found was honestly amazing. It was a sketch of an old building, but the details were immaculate. It looked like something Pepper would gush over during one of the art exhibits she dragged him to.

As he turned the pages, he found more of the same. Gorgeously detailed buildings and beautiful landscapes. It wasn't at all what Tony would expect from the uptight man he'd fought beside.

"This is- wow," Tony murmured, settling on the page that Steve had obviously just been working on. He'd been drawing the art school, and while Tony wouldn't have given the building a second glance when he walked past it, Steve's drawing made it look incredible.

"It's no big deal. Just a couple sketches," Steve waved off, but Tony could tell that he was caught off-guard by the praise.

"Are you kidding? You should be going to that school. Hell, you could probably teach at it."

"I did go to art school for a while actually. Before, you know…" Steve trailed off.

"Really? You ever think of going back?"

"It's too late now," Steve scoffed, taking his book back and running his finger along the edge of the pages.

"Not really. People go back to school in their late 20s all the time. Even later too," Tony pointed out.

"That's not- I'm gonna be too busy. Shield is figuring out the best way to utilize my skills at the moment, so I'm sort of on standby. But once the word comes down, I'm not going to have time for anything else," Steve explained.

"What's that mean? What do they want you to do?"

"Well, some people want me to go back to my goodwill tour days to give people a new symbol of hope. And others want me to take care of any threats that come up before they can turn into another Loki incident. I have to wait and see who gets their way."

"And why is it all on your shoulders? Doesn't Shield have other agents for that?"

"I guess there are some things that normal people can't take care of. And this is what I signed up for when I accepted the serum."

"And since I said no to Fury, it all falls to you," Tony mumbled, feeling a bit guilty. He still wasn't planning on going back, but he did feel a little bad that his refusal was affecting Steve.

"That's not what I was getting at. You said yourself that you weren't a soldier and I respect that. And after what you did, what you sacrificed, no one can blame you for wanting to go back to your life," Steve said sincerely. "But this is the life I chose. For better or worse."

Tony couldn't help feeling sorry for him. He was a person who thrived on freedom and the ability to make his own choices. To feel like he owed his life to some government entity because of an experimental treatment that happened to work didn't seem like any way to live. Tony was starting to see Steve in a new light. Maybe he'd been so uptight and standoffish because he never got a chance to be anything else.

"How-" Tony got cut off by the sound of his phone going off in his pocket. He grumbled under his breath as he pulled it out, scowling at the screen. "I have a meeting I have to get to."

"Oh, okay. Well-"

"How about you come over to the tower tonight for dinner?"

"Really?" Steve asked, and the little surprised smile on his face told Tony that he'd made the right choice to offer.

"Sure. I'll order in some food and we can relax. Unless you have other plans?"

"Uh, no. I don't."

"Great. Anytime after 6:00 is good."

"Should I bring anything?"

"Just your sparkling personality," Tony teased, getting an eye roll for his efforts. But it wasn't an angry one, so that was progress. "Actually, bring your sketchbook. Maybe you can draw me like one of your French girls."

"I never drew anyone in France."

"That's- nevermind," Tony chuckled, standing up and walking backwards in the direction he was headed earlier. "You remember where the tower is?"

"I don't think I'll ever forget."

"It is a fine piece of architecture," Tony agreed. "See you tonight." Steve gave him a polite nod and then Tony was on his way. Inviting America's golden boy for dinner hadn't been on his radar at all, but now he was glad they'd bumped into each other. Maybe their first impressions of each other hadn't been completely accurate. There had been more respect there by the end of the battle, but he didn't see them actually becoming friends. Although now, it didn't seem too outside of the realm of possibility.

The second clue came that night at dinner. Steve arrived at the tower at 6:00 on the dot, which wasn't surprising. He'd probably hovered nearby until the second the minute hand hit the twelve. Tony ushered him up to the penthouse where he had everything set up for their night. He definitely wasn't excited or anything, but he could admit that he was sort of looking forward to getting to know Steve a little better.

"I hope you brought your appetite. I ordered dinner from the best steakhouse in town," Tony said, nudging Steve into one of the dining room chairs. "Their Wagyu will ruin any other steak for you."

"Their what?" Steve asked in confusion, staring down at his plate.

"Don't worry, you'll see," Tony insisted, sitting down in his own seat before bouncing back up. "Did you want a drink? I've got beers from all over the world and some bourbon that's been aged to perfection."

"Uh-"

"I'll grab a few different things," Tony waved off, darting over to get the items. Bruce never wanted to drink with him and Pepper preferred wine and champagne. "Here we go." Tony set the drinks on the center of the table, next to the basket of bread.

"I can't really get drunk anymore," Steve shrugged.

"Well that sucks, but you can still appreciate the flavor, right?" He poured Steve a few fingers of bourbon and eased it into his hands. "I bet you didn't have anything like that back in the day."

"I wouldn't know," Steve mumbled, sniffing at the liquid. "I couldn't buy it."

"Why's that?"

"Too expensive, you know?" Steve said quickly, before glancing around. "Or maybe you wouldn't."

"Right," Tony smirked, lifting his own glass. "Well, here's to being able to afford the good stuff." Steve carefully clinked their glasses before taking a hesitant sip. His face screwed up at the burn and he barely stifled his cough.

"Good," Steve whispered, clearing his throat as his voice came out a bit strained.

"Maybe you should stick to water?" Tony suggested, taking the glass from him and sliding over the safer drink.

"Yeah," Steve agreed, happily taking a bigger gulp of water.

"Well, dig in. I want to see your face when you take your first bite of this meat," Tony prodded, nodding down at the plate. Steve gave him a look that said he was being strange, but he did it anyway. He cut a small corner and popped it into his mouth, chewing carefully.

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"That's nice."

"That's nice? I give you a $300 steak and all you can say is 'that's nice?'"

"$300!" Steve choked out, coughing on his bite of food. Tony rushed over, pounding a hand on the super soldier's back. It felt like hitting a brick wall.

"Try not to die in my tower. I'll never be able to explain it to Pepper."

"I know things don't cost the same as they used to, but that seems excessive," Steve muttered as soon as he was breathing normally again.

"Excess is my middle name."

"You have to let me pay you back. I don't have the money on me now, but Shield set me up with a bank account and-"

"There's no need, really. It was my treat."

"But Tony-"

"Okay, how about you make it even by giving me one of your drawings?" Tony offered, moving back to his seat.

"But my drawings aren't worth anything," Steve argued.

"You have any idea what I could get for a Steve Rogers original on Ebay? The demand would be huge."

"What's Ebay?"

"Don't worry about it. But my offer still stands. Maybe a drawing of Stark Tower in all its glory. I can hang it up in the lobby for everyone to admire."

"That still isn't enough, but I guess it's a start," Steve sighed. "Now, do you have to watch me eat the rest of this or can we have dinner like normal people?"

"Oh Spangles, we've never been normal."

The last clue smacked him in the face the next morning. After they finished eating, they moved over to the couches and Tony put on Titanic for them to watch. Steve's face was burning red, even in the dim lighting, when they got to the part Tony referenced earlier. He cackled into a throw pillow as Steve's eyes kept darting away from the screen during the steamier scenes.

It got a little less funny toward the end of the movie though. Steve's mood went a bit more melancholy as the older Rose talked about losing Jack. Tony really could've smacked himself for not seeing the obvious parallels between Steve's story and the movie's.

"Steve, I-"

"Could I use your bathroom?" Steve asked quietly, tipping his head down so Tony couldn't see his face.

"Down the hall to your left," Tony replied, watching as Steve quickly got up and walked in the direction he'd been told. He scrubbed a hand down his face, wishing Steve really could get drunk so maybe they could forget about Tony's flub. Would they be able to salvage the night or would they go back to how they were?

It was a few minutes before Steve came back and no one would've been able to tell anything was wrong by looking at his face. Tony was saddened by the fact that Steve could hide his feelings so well. It reminded him too much of himself and that wasn't a compliment. Tony had a lot of good qualities, but that wasn't exactly one of them.

"Sorry about that, I-"

"Don't apologize," Tony insisted, shaking his head in frustration. "That was all my fault. I didn't even think."

"It was just a movie. No big deal," Steve shrugged off, inching his way toward the elevator. "I should get going."

"Already?"

"Tony, it's after 10:00," Steve pointed out.

"Well, in that case you should stay, since it's so late."

"What?"

"The streets of New York can be dangerous at night."

"The streets where we just fought aliens?"

"That proves my point," Tony said smugly.

"Tony."

"Just humor me, okay? I don't want to end the night on a sour note. It was going so much better than it did on the helicarrier and I really don't want it to be like that again."

"Really?"

"What we all went through and accomplished together was something no one else can understand. Shouldn't that mean something?"

"You know, I've heard something similar before."

"From who?"

"Soldiers," Steve answered with a teasing smile.

"If that's the comparison you need to make for me to get my way, I'll take it," Tony scoffed.

"Alright," Steve sighed, throwing his hands up in defeat. "Now what?"

"I don't know. Just hang out?" Tony shrugged.

"You don't have a plan?"

"I thought that was your thing?"

"Unbelievable," Steve muttered, finally walking over and sitting back down on the couch.

"I get that a lot."

They ended up sitting side by side on the couch, working on their own projects. Steve was drawing the view of the city from the window and Tony grabbed a few things from his lab that were safe enough to tinker with. They chatted casually about what they were doing, but didn't go too deep into harder topics. That wasn't what this night was about. It was about building up to something resembling a friendship, not diving headfirst into one. It was stress-free and nice.

"You know, there's an art supply store not too far from here. I could take you there one day so you can get some new materials. What do you say?" Tony asked, looking up from his gadget. Steve had fallen asleep in the middle of his project, with his chin resting on his chest. Tony couldn't help staring at him for a few moments. This was the guy who could punch an alien to pieces with his bare hands?

Tony carefully plucked the pencil from Steve's hand, freezing when it caused him to stir a little. Was Steve the kind of sleeper who would lash out if they were disturbed? Luckily for Tony, Steve settled again, tipping his head to the side to rest on the arm of the couch. Tony slid the book from his lap, placing everything within reach on an end table.

Should he leave him like this? Waking him up and leading him to a bedroom might be awkward, and he didn't want to risk Steve trying to leave again. His couches were comfortable enough that a night sleeping on them wasn't the end of the world. He'd spent his fair share of nights on them after a science binge.

That thought settled it, so Tony went to the closest guest bedroom and grabbed the blankets. They were probably more luxurious than anything Steve had ever used. He was going to have to use Jarvis to find his address and send some things. Steve would never tell him if he knew that's what Tony planned. Someone was going to have to teach Steve how to treat himself and who better than Tony Stark?

Tony draped a blanket over Steve before sitting back down where he'd been before. He wasn't tired enough to sleep yet and part of him didn't want to give Steve a chance to sneak off in the middle of the night. He would just stay there until Steve was in a deeper sleep, then go off to his own room. At least, that was the plan.

Tony woke up the next morning when a glare of light from the windows hit him right in the face. He twitched in surprise, looking around to get his bearings. Instead of getting up last night, he'd fallen asleep on the couch with Steve. At least Steve was still there, curled up in a ball on the other end of the couch.

Tony leaned forward to stretch and get a better look at his companion. If he didn't know better, he would've sworn he was looking at a kid. Steve had his hands tucked under his cheek and his hair was flopping over his forehead. And the sight of this, plus everything that had happened the day before was making him question everything. How old was this guy?

Everyone had just assumed that Steve was in his late 20s, from old Captain America records to how he carried himself. But when Steve let his guard down a bit, he didn't seem that old at all. Added in with the longing looks at the art school and his lack of experience with alcohol, Tony was beginning to wonder if their assumptions weren't as accurate as they thought.

Since Tony had all the information in the world at his fingertips, he decided to take advantage of that opportunity. He grabbed a tablet and scoured the records of Steve Rogers' life. There was the normal bullshit about him being America's hero, but he wasn't looking for fluff, he was looking for facts.

In the end, it really didn't take much effort to find what he was looking for. All he needed to do was hack into military records, which wasn't hard at all. It was actually concerning how easy it was. There was a special permission enlistment filed by Dr. Erskine, which listed Steve's birth year as 1918. And in a separate file was a copy of his birth certificate.

The year this was all done could give people an excuse for not noticing the little oddity on the certificate. Machines back then were not as sophisticated as they were now. But Tony was all about paying attention to the little details. And this one was as clear as day. Someone had covered up the original year and put down a new one. So what year was the truth?

"Tony?" Steve murmured, blinking slowly as he woke up. He looked around in confusion, running his hands over the blanket that was resting on his body. "What's going on?"

"Morning sleepyhead!" Tony greeted brightly, tucking the tablet away for now. "How did you sleep?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep on your couch," Steve yawned, rubbing his eyes.

"Nah, it's fine. You were obviously tuckered out. Kids your age need their rest," Tony grinned, looking for a reaction. Steve just had that look of not quite awake confusion on his face.

"Well, thanks for the blanket. You didn't have to do that."

"Of course I did. Couldn't let the little lad get cold," Tony teased.

"Right. I should probably get going."

"So soon?"

"Tony, I've been here for over twelve hours. It's starting to feel like you're trying to kidnap me."

"Interesting choice of words. Kidnap. Kid," Tony replied, dragging out the word. Steve was looking at him suspiciously.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing. What do you want for breakfast? Should we go out somewhere? Do you have a car? Maybe you should rent one. Could you rent one?" Tony asked.

"Are you okay?" Steve asked in bewilderment.

"I'm wonderful. I'm sitting here with my new pal, enjoying a beautiful morning. Feels like we've got our whole lives ahead of us. Some a bit more than others."

"Are you making a joke about me going into the ice again?" Steve asked quietly, looking away as a flash of hurt crossed his face.

"Shit, no," Tony sighed, abandoning his earlier plans to trick or coax the truth out of Steve. He needed to just come out and ask it seemed. "So, I was looking at some old records this morning. Light reading, if you will."

"About?" Steve grunted.

"A lot of things, but mostly you."

"Why?"

"Well, I realized I don't know a lot about you, besides what I've heard from other people. And you can't always trust what people say. Can you believe Clint tells people he's six feet tall?" Tony chuckled, staring pointedly at Steve. "People lie about that kind of stuff all the time. Height, weight, income. Age."

"Tony-"

"How old are you again? I don't think I've ever asked you."

"Why are you asking this now?"

"Well, if my assumption is correct, you'll know why I'm asking."

"Which is?" Steve asked tightly.

"That you're younger than you say you are. That you weren't really born in 1918."

"Why does it matter?"

"Why do you keep answering my question with another question?"

"You know, I thought things were going well, but I guess I was wrong," Steve huffed, tossing the blanket to the side and standing up. "Thank you for your hospitality, but I think I'll be leaving now."

"Steve," Tony sighed, getting up to try to intercept him before he got on the elevator. He wasn't going to try to trap him in it, since that would be a breach of trust that was hard to come back from. "Can we just talk about this?"

"There's nothing to talk about," Steve snapped, staring straight ahead at the elevator doors.

"I wasn't trying to upset you."

"I'm not upset, I'm just leaving." Tony almost made a joke about him throwing a tantrum, but he had the good sense to keep his mouth shut in that regard.

"Steve, I-"

"It's fine," Steve said firmly, stepping onto the elevator. "I'll see you around." Tony stood back as the doors closed, cursing himself for pushing this unnecessarily. Did it really matter in the long run how old Steve actually was? It didn't change anything for them. But now that he knew that something was up, Tony wouldn't be able to let it go. He just needed to figure out a way to get to the truth.