Here's the honest to god truth: Steve knew that adopting a child was spontaneous. He knew this was coming from way out of left field, knew that he hadn't even thought about having children before Peter. But when he had found the small boy, curled under the bed with tear tracks streaking down soot-covered cheeks, he knew he would never be the same again.
Many would accuse him of his hero complex, arguing that Steve had only brought Peter home because saving people was the only thing he knew how to do. Of course, this accusation wasn't necessarily wrong. Steve couldn't deny that seeing someone in need caused him to go softer than the drill sergeants from the 40's would have tolerated. But then again, if this had been the reason for taking the child, then Steve should have also been equally okay with sending Peter off with a capable, non-superhero-crime-fighting family.
There was something about Peter, something that immediately convinced Steve that this young child had to be in their family. It reminded him of the times when Bucky and him would finish the crappy, ten cent puzzles on the small wobbly dining table in the dilapidated Brooklyn apartment. That indescribable satisfaction when suddenly, everything made sense. Things were complete, and Steve was certain Peter was the puzzle piece they didn't know they'd been missing.
If someone had told him that finding Peter had been some part of God's plan, he would have believed them in a heartbeat. There had been such raw vulnerability in those brown eyes; it had broken Steve's heart in two and immediately stitched it back together with vibranium sutures. He had always thought the concept of "love at first sight" had been so naive when he saw it in the films. Now, he wasn't so sure they had been far off the mark.
Maybe Steve brought Peter home because he reminded the super soldier of the late Peggy Carter. Sweet, caring, and ready to do the right thing. He had thought he had seen Peggy in those tearful eyes, but that brown wasn't Ms. Carter's shade of brown. It was a beautiful brown, with flecks of gold and dark reds woven subtly into the warm chocolate color. Eyes that were so familiar, and Steve knew he recognized those eyes, knew he was fond of them. But for the life of him he could not put his finger on it.
Regardless, whatever reason that convinced him to take the boy home, it had happened. To Steve's pleasure, the teammates adored Peter. Bruce enjoyed playing with Peter and the boy's Avengers figurines, allowing the boy to defeat him every time. Natasha allowed her motherly "Auntie Nat" persona to shine through, something Steve hadn't known existed until their stay at Barton's home. And Clint treated Pete as he would any of his kids, sneaking blueberry waffles across the table despite the Captain's insistence that Pete had already had more than enough.
And then there was Tony.
Steve's heart had dropped the moment the man stepped out of the elevator that Saturday morning. There had been pain, apprehension, and dare he say fear written all across Tony's face, eyes zeroing in on the child in Steve's lap as if he was seeing the stuff of his nightmares. He should have held on to Peter, should have told the boy to be gentle around Tony, because it was obvious the billionaire had been on edge. Instead, he had let Peter make a beeline to Tony, and everything had gone downhill from there.
Steve had tried, really tried to give Tony the space and time he had needed. Although he didn't exactly approve of Stark's tendency to hide from conflict, he always attempted to give him an ample amount of alone time before approaching. But he couldn't wait three days this time. He barely made it past one, too wrecked by Peter's seemingly constant mood of sadness. The boy had really taken Tony's reaction to heart. Peter hadn't known what he had done wrong, but the guilt was obviously eating him up inside. Steve could not handle seeing Peter feel bad for simply being excited to meet Iron Man, and therefore, Sunday afternoon found themselves confronting a reluctant Tony in the library.
It hadn't gone wrong, necessarily. Stark hadn't ran away, so obviously it had already gone better than it did the first time the two met. But Peter didn't understand the body language of "do not touch", giving away hugs and kisses to a man who didn't seem to know what to do with them. Steve should probably have interfered when the little guy had face planted into Tony's chest, but then again it had been so gosh darn 's gaze had gone so fuzzy and awed, and Steve was sure his heart had melted into a useless puddle.
Quite truthfully, the confrontation went as well as it could have. Tony had still seemed slightly disoriented when they had left, most likely due to the fact that Peter liked to communicate love with touch and the genius wasn't on board with this. But Steve left the library feeling refreshed, knowing that everything was resolved and now the team could move forward with raising of Peter. Because they had fixed the issue with Tony. Peter promised not to touch the blue circle, and that's what had obviously been the problem, so now they were all on the same page. Everything was fine now. Everything was solved.
Everything was not solved. Something was off with Tony, despite having cleared the air and confronted the issue. Confronting always worked, had always resolved whatever the genius was having a hard time with. Evidently, however, something had gone wrong in the library, because Tony Stark had not spoken a single word.
They were having an Avengers meeting, everyone sitting on couches and chairs as they discussed the newest pressing issue: Peter Parker. It was Monday, and they had all agreed to eat lunch over the topic in the communal living room. Which had been the first sign something was off, because Tony had come out of his workshop without even a grumble of frustration, eyes glued to the Stark Pad held tightly in his grip. Not a single word was uttered from Tony's direction, not even a chuckle.
Steve would have thought the billionaire would have been invested in the discussion at hand. They were talking about everything. Budgets, safety, adoption process, furniture; all things Tony Stark normally took control of, insisting he be the one to oversee the "behind the hero" work. Usually Steve didn't approve of his need to take over everything, overworking himself to the point of exhaustion. But this time, he needed Tony to be the enthusiastic planner he always was. He needed help on this, because he was honestly at a loss.
Yet the genius did not utter a single peep.
"I'm on board with it," Natasha announced, pulling Steve away from the long stare he was giving the unaware mechanic, "It'll be difficult, of course. Peter's not going to have a normal life."
Clint nodded in agreement, "The media will pounce on this once it gets out. And they will find out, we can't keep the kid locked in the tower his whole life."
Steve shifted uncomfortably on the plush couch he was sharing with Bruce, thinking of the media's grabby hands. How they twisted up stories and made up love affairs between them all like it was some fun game. What stories would they craft about Peter? One night stand gone wrong? Pete did look a little bit like Tony… Steve could practically see the press and the tabloids clinging onto that theory. And of course there would be mixed reactions. Some saying that this was great, the boy having the best family to take care of him. Others would bring up the Civil War, collateral damage, the lifestyle; they could bring up the fact that having a child would give them a weakness, something the baddies could manipulate. Steve felt like he was already reading the forums. Blogs upon blogs, speculating the pros and cons to having a child in their care.
"But it'll be worth it," Agent Barton insisted, "We've got more than enough love to go around. We'll give Pete a loving home. And we'll roll with the punches when they hit. Finding a way to keep Peter safe from the big bads is just another step of parenting that other parents probably don't have to worry about as much."
Steve gave Clint a hopeful smile, appreciating the reassurance, knowing that he would be feeling much differently if he didn't have the team supporting him. He then turned to Bruce, sitting next to him on the couch. The doctor was staring intently at Tony, who was still tapping furiously at his Starkpad, offering nothing to the conversation.
"I'm fine with it," Bruce agreed,still not looking away from Tony, "I think Peter would be happy here. What about you, Tony? Are you okay with this? No issues?"
They all turned to the billionaire in question, whose gaze briefly flickered up from the Starkpad. Once he realized all the attention was on him, he quickly looked back down at the screen, successfully avoiding everyone's stares. Something was obviously wrong. Tony didn't reply to Bruce's question, even though he would normally jump at the opportunity to talk. He loved to converse like there was no tomorrow, and rarely ever went quiet, especially when the discussion was something important. And in Steve's book, raising a child was a very important subject.
"Tony?" Steve asked, watching the man's shoulders tense up as he jabbed at the screen harshly, "Is something wrong?"
Tapping ceased, finger held inches from the screen, and Steve knew he had addressed the situation too directly. It was always the freeze, a slight pause in whatever Tony was doing, before the mask slipped tight over him, becoming tight lipped about any emotions. Steve always hated these moments, watching the man close up when he deemed someone had gotten too close. He knew he wasn't a friend, knew that they were both on thin ice around each other ever since Bucky, and he really had no right to be thinking he deserved to see under the well constructed mask. But darn it, it was hard to forget how it had been like when they were friends.
He watched as the man chewed at his bottom lip, before fingers began tapping yet again and eyebrows relaxing from their furrowed expression. The mask was on, and Steve resisted the urge to sigh.
"Nope. No problem," and his voice was too light, too airy, "One happy family. Sounds good."
It was hard not to miss the look of intense disappointment that Bruce sent the billionaire's way. It was the same glare that Steve's mom would give him when she knew he had broken the flower vase, despite his insistence that he hadn't.
"Tony-" Steve tried again, abruptly holding the rest of the sentence in his mouth as Tony shot out of his chair.
"Well, this has been a good talk. I've gotta go work on some… stuff, Pepper will kill me if I don't. Ciao. It's been real."
The rest of the team sat in silence as they watched Tony's retreating figure almost sprint to the stairs. The man never used the stairs, unless he needed to get out of the situation so fast that waiting for the elevator would be too slow. The only other time he had seen Stark take the stairs was when the team sat him down to talk about PTSD, and specifically, what was written in his file pertaining to Afghanistan.
Oh dear Lord in heaven, this wasn't good at all.
Bruce sighed, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes.
"So I think it's safe to assume Stark isn't actually okay with this whole Peter thing," Clint announced. Steve wanted to scold him for making light of the situation, but he settled for a withering glare instead. It would not do any good to upset another teammate at the moment.
"Does anyone know what that was about?" Steve tried, looking for reactions from any of the others. He had read Tony's files, researching the torture methods mentioned and looking up dictionary definitions. He learned everything he could about what was mentioned in the file. So for the life of him, he could not imagine why Bruce cringed and looked down at his worn hands, fiddling his thumbs nervously.
Natasha must have noticed the doctor's reaction as well, her eyes narrowing, "Bruce? What do you know?"
The man smiled wearily at the assassin for a moment, before looking down at his hands yet again, "We all have our things. Some things we don't want to deal with. There are somethings that don't belong in SHIELD files. Sometimes, there are things we don't want other people to know about. Tony might not always take himself seriously. He sometimes plays the 'playboy' card in hopes of making himself seem like an open book. But Tony hides things too."
"And these things he hides? Are they somehow connected to small children?" Clint asked, and Natasha's eyes suddenly widened, jaw clenching with a tension unrivaled.
"How could a small child be worse than Afghanistan?" Steve questioned, eyes flickering from Natasha to Clint to Bruce, who were now all looking at each other with meaningful glances. It was like some telepathic conversation they were all holding, and he hated it, hated feeling that he was out of the loop. Especially when it was about Tony.
"Steve, you should talk to Tony about this. I tried to convince him to talk to you before you started to hunt him down. But he didn't take my advice, I guess." Bruce explained, his shrug heavy and defeated. The super soldier nodded in silent understanding, patting the scientist on the shoulder softly before standing up, adjourning the discussion for the moment.
The each retired to their rooms, leaving Steve to stand alone in the living room, watching the city below and contemplating just what Tony had felt the need to pull out of his personal file.
They didn't see Tony for two days, even with Steve conveniently placing himself in places he knew Tony would venture into at certain times of the day. But the genius never showed up, never gave any indication that he was alive after hastily leaving the meeting at lunch. And Cap was worried. Of course he always did this, always hid himself, always disappeared inexplicably. Yet Steve was always able to catch him stumbling into the kitchen and grabbing another cup of coffee (because if there was a coffee machine in the workshop, Tony would never be seen again).
The only evidence that the man was still alive was the small pieces of 'Peter Proofing' that had been laid around the tower. Random things that popped up, such as plastic covers for light sockets and squishy corner covers for table edges. New protocols, like "Feed The Creature", which would supposedly alert a nearby Avenger when Peter was hungry. However, Steve was pretty sure it only alerted him, because Natasha had been in the kitchen when JARVIS alerted the Captain from his workout four floors down. And then there had been protocol "Change The Payload", which was there to alert when Peter needed his diaper changed. And that's when Steve knew that Tony didn't know anything about children, because the five year old child was already potty trained and assured Steve that he was in fact "a big boy" and could use the potty "just fine".
Steve appreciated all that Tony Stark was doing, of course. The 'helping parent from afar' approach seemed to be the one the man was taking, helping in anyway he could without actually interacting. He didn't know why the man was practicing such strained distance, and it bugged him to no end that the man couldn't just express his feelings. Couldn't just tell Steve why he had a problem with Peter.
He swore it had been the Arc Reactor. But it was obvious now that he had been wrong, and maybe Peter's lips on Tony's chest may have not been the best thing to help whatever was going on.
Steve gave in again on Wednesday, resolving himself to find Tony and figuring out what was really bothering Iron Man. Because no matter how thin the ice was, he missed seeing the sleep-deprived genius. It reminded him slightly of Wakanda, when Steve would sit around and jump at small noises, turning and expecting- no, wanting to see the short man stumble by, goatee with a five o'clock shadow and shirt streaked with oil stains. But Tony would never be there, and he would only feel the pit in his stomach grow deeper, knowing he'd lost something that had been important to him. The feeling of missing something that he didn't appreciate when he had it… Tony's absence had been what made him feel alone. He had been sad when Bucky went into the cryofreeze unit, of course he had. But Tony's missing presence was what had made him feel alone.
He had spent 70 years alone under ice. He could not tolerate a single moment more, no matter how much Tony liked to avoid people and disappear into himself.
It was after breakfast, Peter full with blueberry waffles and Steve feeling good after a refreshing morning run, that they got onto the elevator and headed down to Tony's workshop. The mechanic would freak that Steve was bringing Pete down, but maybe catching Stark off his guard by bringing the object that was causing him distress would be what they needed to resolve this.
Peter was excited to see just where Iron Man worked, almost vibrating next to Steve. He gently held the young boy's hand, hoping to keep the kid by his side, because although Tony had been proofing the tower, he assumed the man had not thought to proof his own workshop.
The elevator doors opened, and they were met with heavy rock music, shaking the glass panels of the workshop across the hall. Peter quickly let go of Steve's large hand, instead clasping both of his hands to his ears, music too loud for his sensitive young ears. The Captain did the same, super serum having enhanced his hearing, making Tony's workshop sounds too loud for his eardrums.
The pair walked up to the glass sliding doors, hands plastered to the side of their heads as they peered in. Tony could be seen at his metal workshop table, banging his head to the music as he fiddled with something in his hands. Blue holographic screens surrounded him, causing an eerie blue glow to reflect in his brown eyes. His Arc Reactor shone through an Aerosmith shirt, fabric thin from many times of wear. So much blue. Whoever insisted Tony's colors where red and gold had never met the man, because the color was so obviously the electric blue that he surrounded himself in and housed in his chest.
It was obvious that the man had not been alerted by his AI that the two were at the door. His head bobbing continued, mouthing the words along to the song that Steve only vaguely recognized. And for a second, Steve didn't want to enter the workshop. He wanted to keep watching, Tony singing along to songs and surrounded in Arc Reactor blue. He loved seeing the man in his element. It was some of the only times that the man looked unburdened by the world, finding freedom in guitar riffs and drum solos.
But suddenly the blaring music shut off, JARVIS saying something indescribable from inside the workshop, and Tony whipped his head around to look at Steve, eyes wide in surprise. He looked as if he had been a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. And for some reason, Steve's chest suddenly felt light and fluttery, causing him to give the genius a soft smile and a small wave. Tony evidently didn't know what to do with the smile or the wave, because he frowned at the Captain before focusing his attention back on the thing in his hands. He saw the man move his lips, and suddenly the doors to the workshop slid open.
"What's up Cap?" Tony greeted, not looking up from the device in his hand. It dawned on Steve that Tony had yet to realize that Peter was with him, because although there was tension in the mechanic's shoulders, he didn't look like he was ready to bolt.
However, this blissful ignorance was short lived, because the small vibrating body next to Steve was too excited to keep quiet once he saw Tony.
"Mister Iron Man!"
Cap had never seen Tony Stark flinch as hard as he did then, jumping in the metal stool he was sitting in, sliding off of it by accident. Peter ran at Tony, who looked frightened for his life, the small human barreling towards him with a speed unmatched.
The pair stumbled when the boy launched himself at Tony's legs, clinging to them in a hug with a wide smile plastered on his face. Pete's cheeks were rosy red in excitement, and for a moment, Steve allowed himself to enjoy the child's happiness. However, he quickly reminded himself why they were there in the first place, and changed his focus to Tony.
The man in question had gone pale, lips a thin line of obvious discomfort. It was the same expression Tony had in the library when Peter had kissed the Arc Reactor. He had thought it had been because of the mental scars the the device in his chest carried. But it was now obvious to Cap that this expression had nothing to do with the reactor, and everything to do with Peter.
"Hey Pete? Let's let go of of him, okay? Mr. Iron Man doesn't want to be hugged right now," Steve informed the boy.
Peter reluctantly let go of Tony, pouting while looking at Steve as if the good Captain had done the child wrong.
Steve had expected that the genius would have relaxed after the kid relinquished his grip on his legs. Maybe it was physical contact? Peter did tend to spring up on people, enjoying the act of giving out surprise hugs. But Tony had never been one for jump scares, and maybe the physical contact made the experience uncomfortable for him. And yet, when Peter pulled away, instead to be distracted with the shiny and interesting workshop, Tony still stood stalk still, pale and tense.
Now Steve was really stumped, because if it wasn't the Arc Reactor, and it wasn't the physical contact, then it had to be something mental. Of course, they all had their fair share of mental scars and inhibitors, but being afraid of a small child? Steve couldn't wrap his head around what the problem was. Because as far as he knew, Tony had never had a traumatic experience of a kid attacking him, and it sounded really unlikely that would have happened. There was a reason, but Steve didn't even know where to begin.
Tony must have seen something in Cap's blue eyes, because he looked down at Peter with a grim expression, "Hey Pete, why don't you go play with DUM-E over there. He loves meeting new people," the man pointed over to the robot, who chirped at his name. The boy giggled with brimming joy, running at DUM-E who was now scooting around in circles, happy to have a new playmate.
Now left alone to talk, the two men looked at each other, the silence settling heavy between the two of them.
"Tony. We need to talk," Steve said, trying to make eye contact with the brown eyed man, who looked down at his shoes, observing something that was not there in false interest. All he got in response was a hum, and there he went again, chewing at his bottom lip until it was red.
Cap tried again, "There's something off. And I don't know why you're being silent about it. You obviously aren't okay with Pete, and-"
"I'm okay with Peter!" Tony protested, head snapping up to look him dead in the eye, "Peter isn't the problem."
Steve raised an eyebrow at this, crossing his arms as he always did when Tony told lies, "Well something is, because ever since Peter came to the tower, you've ceased to exist."
Tony opened his mouth as if to retort, and Steve could almost heard the inevitable 'no I haven't', but then the man closed his mouth, realizing it was no use arguing with Captain Rogers.
"Listen, I'm just- I'm not good with kids, okay? They cry and scream, they always want food. They're different than machines, and I just prefer machines," Tony said, waving his arms about in a desperate attempt to make Steve believe him. But no matter how hard Stark tried, he would always avoid eye contact with the person he was lying to. Tony's eyes flickering from one object to another was a dead give away.
"Well that just doesn't make sense. We meet kids all the time out in the field, you love signing their drawings with red crayons. Why is Peter any different?" Steve questioned, taking a step forward and trying to keep his voice calm. The last thing they needed right now was for him to get angry at Tony for keeping his walls up. He took a step backward in response to the Captain's advances, not needing comfort nor closeness in this conversation. Steve made a note not to move forward again, not wanting to do anything to cause Tony to bolt.
"Peter isn't different. Not at all. I'm just not good with kids, Steve, that's all. Just let it go-"
"Let it go? Look, if we're adopting Peter, I need to make sure everyone is on the same page. And right now, we are not on the same page. Pardon my french, but 'not good with kids' is bullcrap, Stark," Steve immediately cursed himself, he was already getting angry. And when he got angry, then Tony would, and they would soon ping off each other until it became a screaming match.
"Well I'm sorry, Rogers, that my answer doesn't meet your satisfaction-"
"Is it a problem with being responsible for kids? Because Peter is responsibility and all the kids you gave autographs to weren't. That's a mighty fine difference."
"Captain, I really don't need to have this discussion right now, I was working on-"
"Excuse me if I don't care what you were using as an excuse to mope down here-"
"I don't mope!" Stark quickly protested.
"-but we need to figure this out because we have to raise a child, as a team, and for the life of me I can't figure out why you have such a problem with this!"
Tony's face was beginning to get red as the anger rose within him, and somewhere deep in his mind, Steve tried to remind himself that getting frustrated was not helping anyone. But he was too far gone to care.
"I never agreed to raise a goddamn child, Rogers."
"Oh is that your problem? Parenting a ki-"
"I am NOT gonna be parenting, don't you dare say that!"
Steve wanted to scream, why did Tony Stark always bring out the worst in him? Cap gritted his teeth to stifle the rising scream, instead he managed to seeth through his teeth, "What is your problem, Tony? You've never been bad with kids, and you insist that you are because you can't handle the duty of being a co-parent!"
"I am NOT going to be PARENTING!" and dear Lord Tony was starting to get loud, but Steve didn't honestly care anymore. He had forgotten that Peter was in the room, Tony's screams zeroing the whole universe in on him as they always did.
"Just do what Howard did, Tony! You seem to think you're all that, something must have gone right, so just follow by example!" Steve roared, fist now clenched at his sides, fingernails biting painfully into his palms.
It was obvious that, in that moment, a line was crossed. Because Tony's angry red turned to a sickly pale green, eyes widening at the mention of Stark Senior.
"R-Rogers, I can't- Howard was a drunk-" Tony suddenly sounded like he was pleading, and Cap really should have reeled it in, should have noticed that the man was needing the fight to stop immediately. He should have realized that he was suddenly in very dangerous territory. But he would go to hell before doing so, because Tony Stark was always able to rile him up and make him say things that were mean and biting, and this time was no exception.
"He was an alcoholic? Well, look at that Stark, already following in your Dad's footsteps and you didn't even mean to!"
And oh no, Tony looked about ready to puke, the man's eyes were glassy with unshed tears. There was a sound of a faint rip as the shirt hem that Tony had been anxiously fiddling with tore at Steve's words. Cap really needed to stop.
"Cap, please," Tony tried, but the blood pulsing in Steve's ears was too loud, too deafening to focus on the shorter man a few long steps away.
"Did Howard also teach you how to be an asshole? Because I doubt it. You keep yourself so high up that pedestal, and you can't face a child that wants a hug?"
Tears streamed down Tony's face as the man finally broke, screaming as he had never screamed before, "Fuck you, Rogers! So what if I'm drunk? So what if I'm an asshole? AT LEAST I DON'T BEAT UP CHILDREN! God, you think you knew him so well, thought he was a fucking angel, didn't you? Well I'm SORRY I don't want to be like dear old Daddy, but I don't think Peter would look very attractive WITH A FUCKING BLACK EYE THE SIZE OF MY FIST!"
Everything stopped at that moment. Everything froze. Steve felt like he was under the ice again, cold and shocked and useless. Useless as tears slid down oil-streaked cheeks. Useless as he realized that his friend had been a horrible, horrible father. Useless.
Tony's eyes were wide, and he knew the man was regretting everything he had just told Steve. But there was no going back now, and the waterworks were open, and damn it, why did they always do this to each other?
"He worshipped you, you know. Never stopped looking for you…."
Steve's mouth wasn't working, but even if it was he didn't know what he would have said. Tony continued on, now looking at the torn hem of his shirt. His voice was much quieter now, as if he had scared himself with his outburst.
"Howard only taught me how to fight. He didn't teach me how to love a kid. He didn't teach me how to love anyone. He taught me how to love things that didn't have feelings. Things that can't hurt you. I made DUM-E when I was twelve. I learned to love machines. Because that's how Howard taught me to parent. Which is, to not parent at all…"
Tony looked down at his shoes and hastily detached his fingers from the hem of his shirt, using the backs of his hands to wipe away the wet, salty trails on his cheeks. He sniffled as his arms fell to his sides, and he finally looked up at the super soldier once more. Tony's brown eyes were bloodshot, glassy from tears, and Steve was suddenly able to move again.
They'd never hugged before. There was some handshakes passed between them throughout the years, yes. And there had been a side hug once; although that one hadn't really counted, because carrying a bleeding Tony off the battlefield, supporting him as he limped, wasn't actually a hug. So why Steve felt the need to hug the shorter man was beyond him. It probably had something to do with how broken the man looked, as if he had been keeping the weight of the world in his heart. And now, Steve was simply seeing what Tony felt every single time parents or kids or families were mentioned. It made sense, the need to be as far away from Peter as the genius could get. He now understood the clench in Tony's jaw that came with every story Steve told of the late Howard Stark.
Tony had been keeping this all in, all to himself. Every cell in his enhanced body told him to hug Tony, to comfort the man who was drying his tears a few feet away. He could easily push him off, sure, and Cap would feel the slight sting of rejection. But taking the risk to comfort his teammate, dare he say friend, far outweighed the danger of Tony's possible reaction.
He took three, cautious steps to the genius, arms hesitantly outstretched in an invitation; asking permission. Steve expected Tony to shy away, to turn around and ask him to leave. Which Steve would have done, because looking back on what he had said, he felt mortified. He felt like he had broken the world in two, and this hurt so much worse than it had when he had been alone in Wakanda.
Tony locked gazes with Steve, and when the mechanic didn't turn away, Steve closed the distance between them, gently wrapping his arms around the shorter man.
The hug was stiff, at first. Tony didn't know where to put his arms or face, and Cap didn't know where to place his overly large hands. Elbows poked ribs, Steve's chin collided with Tony's head, and toes were stepped on. But then one of them moved, an arm slotted into the right place, and they suddenly fit like those ten cent puzzles. Warm, soft, and caring. This was so new for them, because their fights usually ended with someone leaving the other alone. But this was new, different; this was how Steve wanted their fights to resolve from now on. Because they fit so well. Tony felt so warm, and it was so easy to run a soothing hand up and down the genius's back, easy to run fingers through wavy brown hair. Cap had been missing out on this and he hadn't even known it. For some reason, that's how all things with Tony seemed to go.
"I'm sorry," Cap managed, mumbling into soft brown waves. Since when did hair smell so good?
Tony gave a wet sniffle into Steve's left peck, the super soldier honestly not caring if the man was leaving a tear stain or not.
"I shouldn't have said the things I said," he continued, "It was wrong of me. You are right to be upset, I completely lost my temper… Gosh, Tony, why didn't you tell me sooner?"
Tony pressed his face harder into Steve's shirt, as if he wanted to become part of the fabric. Peter and Stark were sometimes eerily alike.
"I dunno. Not something one normally brings up," the genius muttered, words muffled by their embrace. Tony sniffed again, this time accompanied by a shaky, steadying sigh. The Captain liked to think the comfort was helping the man, running his hand up and down his back, chin resting lightly on his head.
"Howard was a dick," Steve grumbled, a slight bout of anger snaring in his stomach. He felt betrayed, devastated, because his friend had abandoned his own son to look for Steve, "You deserved so much better than that. You know that, right? And," Steve swallowed around the word, feeling sick for even having to say it, "a-abuse is not something to mess around with. I'm saying this all wrong of course. I guess I just want you to know that I care. And if you want to, I can help teach you how to take care of Peter. Or anything else. I just want to help."
Steve received a wet snort at this, as though it was funny, and Cap was confused until Tony mumbled into his chest, "You said dick."
Steve huffed as relief spread through him, rolling his eyes fondly, "Of course that's what you took away from that."
Tony tightened the embrace for a few seconds before pulling away, cheeks slightly flushed as he emerged from the comfort of Steve's arms, "So you aren't angry?"
Steve blinked at Tony incredulously, "Angry? Why in the world would I be angry?
"I don't know, maybe because I ruined the memory of your good friend? You always seemed to enjoy telling stories about him. I thought maybe you wouldn't want to hear it," Tony explained, looking up into Cap's blues. The super soldier raised an eyebrow at the mechanic, "Okay, don't give me that look, I guess it was a little stupid."
Tony flinched as large, calloused hands gripped his shoulders. Blues bore into warm browns, Steve commanding all of his attention, "I'm not the least bit angry. Sometimes, I may get carried away with stories from the past, I won't deny it. But now is more important than then. And Howard Stark was then. You're now. I prefer now."
Steve was surprised to see a red tint flush on Tony's cheeks as the man smiled, watching it slightly darken the man's tan skin. He tried to catch his breath, because there was suddenly something about Tony he felt he was missing, but desperately needed to catch. Something so familiar, and if he stared a little bit longer, maybe he'd recognize it…
"Are you done fighting now?"
The two men jumped apart, looking over at the five year old whose hands were behind his back.
Steve felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. Had Peter just watched them scream? Oh, he had been such an idiot, bringing the boy and then proceeding to forget the child was in their presence, instead focusing on yelling and cursing.
"DUM-E escorted young Sir into the hall upon my orders. I thought it might be the best course of action," JARVIS explained, as if he had read Steve's mind, hearing the stream of concern.
Cap thanked the ceiling as Peter ran up to them, jumping up and down with excitement, "We played chase! I won!" DUM-E chirped happily, raising it's one metal arm up and waving it about, as if celebrating. Tony chuckled, and to Steve's surprise, crouched down to Peter's level. He held out his arms slightly, tentatively, as if not sure asking for a hug was necessarily what he wanted.. The small boy immediately backed up, glancing frantically at Cap.
"Mister Steve said you didn't want hugs, Mister Iron Man," Peter warned, the five year old furrowing his brow and frowning, lower lip jutting out in a pout. Steve's gaze fell to Tony, who opened his arms a little wider, an unsure smile gracing his lips.
"One small hug might not hurt right now, yeah?" Tony told the boy, waver obvious in his voice, but at least Tony wasn't trying to act tough or hide the fact that this made him nervous.
The boy rocked on his heels for a few seconds, looking from the super soldier to his idol, trying to figure out if he really could hug Tony. Peter must have decided Stark was telling the truth, because in the next moment, the boy was in Tony's arms, laughing and throwing his little arms around the man's neck.
The genius tensed, but he hugged back anyway, allowing slightly shaking hands to hold the overjoyed child. A smile spread across Tony's face as Pete giggled, and the man looked up at the super soldier above them, smile reaching his brown eyes for the first time in a while.
Steve's breath suddenly caught in his throat, watching brown eyes glisten with happiness, gold and dark reds highlighted by his wide smile. Warm, welcoming, beautiful; not quite Peggy's shade, something particular and familiar.
Happiness looked good on Tony Stark.