After washing his face and brushing his teeth, Steve stripped naked and crawled under the covers of his large bed.

He tried to lay still and wind down to sleep, but flickers of the evening played behind his eyes. Moments of Tony drawing smiles from him, until he turned over and tried to quiet his mind once more.

Time and time again, thoughts of Tony tugged at his mind, and his lips. Heat grew in his body as certain memories began to play at edges of his consciousness more frequently. His body shifted under the heavy duvet as he remembered leaning over Tony to place his hands over the other mans, his lips brushing ear as he whispered. He'd noted the way Tony had exhaled and arched his back, just slightly, so that his ass had risen up to barely connect with the bulge in Steve's jeans.

Eyes flickering open, Steve realised he was hard, achingly so. His hips had tilted to press his length into the mattress. Groaning, he knew he'd get no rest until he addressed his need. He rolled his hips a few times, enjoying the friction. It was enough to arouse him further, but not to satisfy. He set about pulling apart his memories of the evening, rewriting them according to his desires. Instead of the soft guidance of hands on hands, he found himself pressing down hard between the shoulder blades of a moaning Tony Stark. Pinned to the pool table, Tony reached down to fumble open his belt buckle, wriggling his hips against the hard cock straining in Steve's jeans until his own slacks fell to the ground, exposing a tight, rounded ass.

In his bed, Steve moaned. He spat into his hand, and slid it down between his body and the mattress. Gripping his cock gently, he gave it a few twisting pulls to spread the thick spit around before he began to fuck his fist in earnest.

Calling up his fantasy, Steve gazed down as Tony spread his feet, opening up his ass to display his hair rimmed hole. Seized by the thought of how tight and warm he must feel, Steve lined up his cock and pushed his whole length deep into Tony's ass, time and lube unnecessary in his imaginings. Thinking of the soft moans and gasps Tony would make as he thrust in and slid out, he quickly approached his edge, and pulled back. Slowing the movement of his hips, Tony begged him for more as his cock began to swell further. Unable to hold back, Steve groaned out Tony's name as his cock stiffened further still and shot a heavy load of hot cum into his hand and across his sheets. He rocked his hips a few more times, ass clenching as his cock rubbed through the warm, slick mess he'd created. Slumping into the mattress, satiated, he fell quickly into a dreamless sleep, muscles loose and mind peaceful.

Upstairs, Tony laid in his own bed, but for him there was no pretence of falling asleep. The second he'd walked through his door, he'd unbuttoned his fly and unzipped, releasing some of the pressure squeezing his cock. Sliding down his slacks and briefs, his cock had leapt free. He'd given it a quick stroke or two, sighing in relief, before kicking free of the garments and heading straight for the bed.

Throwing himself down on top of the sheets, he'd immediately gripped himself, using his other hand to pull up his shirt over the tight muscles of his torso.

Now, he stroked himself slowly, enjoying the building tension in his groin. He wanted to draw it out: he usually devoted a long time to his own pleasure, but he could tell he wouldn't be able to last long. He'd been practically half hard ever since Steve had leaned over him at the pool table, teasing him with the brush of crotch against his ass.

He lingered on that moment, playing over each moment of sensation, the drop he'd felt in his stomach as he'd realised what Steve had been doing, the warm spreading he felt in his chest as he knew he was wanted. He found himself breathing the other man's name as he ran his hand over his cock, the other toying and tugging at his large balls.

He'd spent so long creeping around his desire for Steve, avoiding his lust. He'd fantasised in the dark of the night, but tried not to, not wanting the complications of a teammate attraction. Now that he knew that attraction was mutual, his body felt as though it had been building a low level sexual tension, even frustration, this whole time. Every touch was heightened by the sense of release, of giving in to his body's pulls.

As he neared his peak, his ass tensing to thrust his cock in and out of his grip, his mind drew to the chaste kiss Steve had placed on his cheek. He felt Steve's breath on his ear, the brief scrape of fresh stubble against his jaw, and in that moment, his orgasm overtook him.

With a breathy cry, Tony's balls drew in close and his cock spasmed, sending thick ropes of cum across the hair of his stomach and chest. One warm spurt splashed onto his neck and chin, tantalisingly close to his lips. Shivers ran down his body, his skin feverish. Tony's cock continued to pulse and dribble cum as he took a deep shuddering breath. The tension that had gathered in his muscles ebbed away and he sank deeply into his mattress. His mind, gone blank for a moment, began to resurface. With a slight start, he realised he'd just had a mind blowing orgasm to…a kiss on the cheek. No way was this just a matter of lust.

Blowing out a sigh between his lips, he wiped the cum on his chin into his mouth, tasting it. Whispering aloud, he said to himself,

"Fuck, I really got it bad huh?"

Steve woke drowsily the next morning, unlike his usual animal alertness. He blinked slowly as he rolled off his belly, vaguely aware of the sticky, damp mess he extracted himself from. Drawing in a deep yawn, he stretched his body out, flexing the lethargy of sleep from his muscles. Remembering the startled eagerness in Tony's eyes last night as he'd kissed his cheek, he smiled to himself. It seemed this future may hold something more for him than fighting after all. He showered, taking his time to jack off again as he did. He'd not felt much drive to touch himself recently, too busy feeling sick with the world, and it pleased him that his usually high libido seemed to be returning. It felt like a good sign. He then stripped his bed, tugging on fresh sheets. He'd slept in later than he normally would, and readied himself to start his day quickly. Opening his door, he let out a surprised bark of laughter at what waited for him. A tall, slender bodied vase with a crackled transparent blue glaze, and sitting in it, twelve full flushed roses in a deep, rich red.

For a moment, he stood, staring at them, then looked up and down the hall. Taken aback, he was unsure what to do. He stooped to pick it up, noticing the heft and subtle fingermarks of handmade beauty in the vase. Huh, he thought to himself, I actually don't know how I feel about this. No-one had ever given him flowers before, not even when his mother had died, they'd all been for the grave. It had never even occurred to him that someone might as a romantic gesture. He'd given them of course, just not received. Stepping back into his rooms, he took the vase back to the table and set it down, sitting before it. Leaning in, he gave them a gentle sniff. The scent was rich and perfumed, reminding him of sun and the still, warm air of summer. He was surprised; he knew that in the genetic balancing act of flowers, often a large, many petalled bloom meant sacrificing the depth of aroma, or vice versa. These must have been exceptionally expensive. Reaching out, he stroked the plump soft skin of a petal with the pad of a finger. His lips tugged up in a faint smile. After the life he'd lived, it seemed strange that he would find receiving flowers so transgressive. The attention of the gesture being upon him did feel unusual, but with a soft lilt in his chest, he decided he liked it. Perhaps he could get used to being the subject of gallantry.

A level, careful man, Steve tended toward taking a step back to assess the lay of the land before making his decisions. With the arrival of the flowers, he felt yet more compelled to get out and get some air. Along with the soft bubble of excitement in his chest, he felt the urge to withdraw, for space to think and feel.

Rising from the sofa, he grabbed his jacket, and headed out for the city.

'Arghhhh! FUCK! PEPPER!' Tony yelled, muffled by his face in his hands, elbows on his desk.

'Ahhhh? Fuck? Tony?' Pepper deadpanned from the open video channel projected into the air in front of him, 'Jeez, did you agonise this much every time you sent me flowers?'

'Nooooooo' was the elongated moan that slid from the covered hands.

'Tony, I feel like I'm playing peekaboo with a child, look at me!' Pepper said, her tone light and smiling, 'It's fine! He likes you back. I'm sure of it. You said he kissed you.'

Tony's head finally rose, his face the classic mask of a tortured lover.

'But what if it was just a friendly kiss? He's from a different time. Maybe that's just how men said goodbye back then.'

Pepper let out a full throated laugh, always enjoying Tony's theatrics.

'You said he leaned over you at the pool table, and ground his hips into your ass. Which, by the way, hot. Feel free to tell me about that again Tony.'

Pulling himself up straight, throwing his hands in the air, Tony cried out,

'A perfectly innocent hip grind Pepper! For god's sake, you lust ridden succubus! Must the simplest of gestures always come down to sex with you?'

Her eyes rolled, another step in their well worn banter.

'Anyway, I hope he likes the vase. Which you owe me for by the way. Probably a lot, I think that was one of my best pieces to date.'

'Yeah, sure thing Dr Evil. One million dollars coming your way.' Leaning forward on the desk, Tony looked directly into the screen, earnest, 'For real though Pep, it was beautiful. I really appreciate it.'

A smile spread across Pepper's face, the kind that transformed her stern manner into that of a soft and blushing lover. It always had and honestly, still could, pull at Tony's heart.

'So!' He continued, brushing away the moment, 'When will you let me set you up with your own kiln and everything. Get you out of that cramped little beehive?'

'Tony, no! I like the open studio. Honestly. I like the social aspect, hard as it might be to grasp. Besides, I'm still learning, really, and the other makers there are always helping each other out and teaching me new things. It's nice! It's communal.'

Pepper laughed as a played up shudder that ran through Tony's body. Letting out a disgusted noise, he replied,

'Pepper. There's something seriously, deeply wrong with you. You're a sick puppy, that's for sure. No wonder I broke up with you!'

Laughing, Pepper leaned into her camera, yelling,

'Tony! I broke up wi-'

Abruptly cutting the connection with a quick tap, Tony leaned back in his chair, swung his feet up onto the desk, and let out a deep, contented sigh.

Steve spent the day wandering the city again. It felt strange not having anywhere in particular to be. With no job, and no current missions requiring his talents, he might have felt at a loss, certainly in the past few weeks and months, he would have. Today felt different though, better. He had considerations to make, choices to deliberate, and that meant he could see a future for himself in this time. There were paths to take now.

His thoughts drifted to Peggy repeatedly, perhaps missing her more keenly now than ever before. Not just as a lover and confidante, but as an ever solid supporter. Peggy had thrown her heart and her faith behind him from the start, and never stopped. Living with the consequences of his choices and the world had been so much easier with a safety net like that.

Steve bought himself a coffee from a park kiosk he'd meandered across, and a glossy, many layered croissant. Settling between two banks of gently swaying tulips just before the peak of their bloom, he bit into the fragile pastry, and watched the clouds pass across the blue sky overhead.

Watching the soft banks of white drift by, he considered Tony. He couldn't help but hold everyone to the bar Peggy had set for him, and he wasn't sure if that was fair or not. One thing the extraordinary woman had hammered into him was what he was worth, and what he deserved, and that meant fair or not, everyone else would just have to live up to those expectations. He didn't yet know if Tony could be relied upon with the deep and unshakeable certainty he'd felt with her. As he chewed the crisp and delicate layers of his croissant, tasting the richness of butter, and the delicate scent of tulips brushed over him in the soft breeze, he knew that if Tony had been there to share the moment with him, it would have been more enjoyable yet, and that was enough to make a start at least.

Morning passed into afternoon, and he found himself outside Salvador and Lucia's little restaurant, the yellow door beaming away at him. This time, he walked straight in, before fears of his own toxicity could chase him away. He was met with a wordless cry of greeting from Salvador behind the counter. Steve grinned and shrugged in reply,

'Hey, I couldn't stay away.'

Salvador smiled broadly in return, and shuffled around his Formica to show Steve to a table.

Asking for a coffee, Steve sat and looked over the menu, making his selections. When Salvador brought over his coffee, he placed his order, and chatted briefly with him about his morning. He felt at ease with the man, who was as warm to him as if he'd been a customer there 20 years.

His food arrived quickly, borne by Lucia this time. She carried a wide, shallow bowl with a generous pile of pan fried gnocchi, tossed with diced chilli, garlic and spring onion, gleaming with olive oil stained orange by the fresh chilli. She set this, along with another large arancini and a deep dish filled with steaming parmigiana, a burnt crust of bright purple aubergine curling up through the steaming surface of roasted mozzarella.

Steve gazed upon the food as she set it before him, his mouth springing to water as the rich smells hit his nose. He grinned at the woman, who measured only a little taller standing than he did seated.

'This is incredible. You're an artist Lucia'

Her face split into a wide smile, and she placed a hand on his shoulder, a gesture of familiarity that tugged at Steve, momentarily uncomfortable, then soothing.

'Such a handsome smile! You seem much happier now than before.'

Steve shrugged his free shoulder a little, his eyebrows drawing together.

'I do?' He asked softly.

'Don't be shy now. This is good. Keep smiling, handsome boy.' She patted him firmly once on the shoulder, then returned to her kitchen.

Steve felt a slight blush colour his cheeks. In war, he'd spent little time around elders, and with his own parents long gone from the world, he hadn't had an interaction quite like this in some time. He felt a mixture of warmth, pride and embarrassment rise in his chest. There was a keen sightedness to Lucia that he found both difficult and comforting.

For a brief moment, before the first bite reached his lips and the delicious flavours dragged him into the present, he thought of Lucia's comment, and of Tony's stunned face as Steve drew back from a goodnight kiss.