Author's Note: Here we are next part! Bring on the fluff and feels finally the pay off and the romance was definitely a slow build. Also I lied there is actually 15 parts, I decided to break up the last chapter made the story flow better. So enjoy and I'll get the others up as soon as possible.

Thanks ravingbeauty for all your wonderful work and congrats!

That Has Such People

Part XII – Suit the action to the word, the word to the action.

"Why am I nervous? I'm not nervous," he mumbled even as he wrung callused hands together.

"Of course not, sir," JARVIS said.

Steve was too rattled to even snark back at his AI. Staring at himself in the mirror, he smoothed a hand over his dark red dress shirt. "Maybe I should try the blue again," he grumbled, wanting to kick his own ass for turning into a teenage girl.

It was his fifth outfit, and he still wasn't sold. Unfortunately Peg had not been helpful; his CEO had just told him in no uncertain terms to "man up." That gem had been followed by an order to "stop being a muppet." It had been very British, very unhelpful, and rather hurtful.

Fussing with the brace on his forearm, Steve worried his lower lip. He really shouldn't be so uptight about this. Sure, his track record with relationships wasn't great, and this was his first date with a man who made him believe in the impossible, and he may or may not be in love with him… but why worry?

"Who am I kidding?" he mumbled to himself. He was head over heels for Captain America.

"Sir, Captain Stark is outside your door."

Steve stiffened as sweat instantly broke out across his skin. Suddenly he wanted to run and hide in bed.

"Man up, Rogers," he ordered himself. As he crossed the room, Steve almost managed to convince himself he was ready for this – right up until he opened the door. It felt like he'd been punched in the arc reactor; all the air left his chest in a rush.

"Oh, god," Steve huffed, the words falling from his lips unintentionally.

Tony self-consciously smoothed a hand down the front of his blue dress shirt. "Too much?" he worried.

Steve vehemently shook his head. "No, no, not at all. You look… you look, wow…" he blurted inarticulately.

"Clint thought I could use a little help," Tony shrugged and gave him a lopsided grin. "You look good, too," the solider said as he held an arm out to Steve.

The genius was still trying to get his mind around the gorgeous man in front of him. Tony Stark had discovered 21st century clothing and it agreed with him. Dark denim accented what Steve believed to be one of his best features, and that shirt was oh so tight. For the first time in a long time Steve felt awkward and self-conscious in his own slender body.

Automatically Steve found himself taking the proffered arm and following the other man to the elevator. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask what was happening when, instead of pressing down, Tony hit the button for the top of the building. This was Captain America, though, so Steve was game for anything.

Tony said nothing as they rose skyward, trying not to let his own nerves show. He wanted to make a good impression; he knew a first date was the most important. Resting a large hand lightly over Steve's, Tony gently led him onto the roof as the doors slid open.

Steve, who was growing more curious by the moment, followed after Tony, only to stumble in shock when he caught sight of the transformed poolside. In the cool evening air, white lights were strung around a small table set with covered trays and flickering candles.

Speechless, he turned to the tall brunette. "How? I mean…" the normally unflappable billionaire was at a complete loss. Tony had only asked him out this morning, and to have this… Steve had assumed they'd head to some fancy restaurant while trying to ignore the paparazzi that seemed to hound the Avengers' every move – Tony and Steve's in particular.

"Is this ok? I thought for a first date just the two of us would be better," he said hesitantly, turning to look at his date.

Steve just stared back into the earnest dark eyes for a moment. It was romantic, charming, sweet… and if it'd been anyone else it would have been sappy. But Tony made it perfect.

"It's perfect," he finally managed aloud, heart fluttering as Tony responded with a wide, sweet smile.

Happily Tony led him to the table, pulling out Steve's chair before settling across from him. "We have chicken, mixed veggies, and garlic potatoes," Tony listed off as he opened the covers with a flourish.

Steve grinned – all his favorites, which of course Tony knew. "How did you mange to pull this off?" he asked, still amazed by the scene.

Laughing, Tony poured them each a glass of wine, "I called in a favor."

Something in his tone made Steve think that perhaps there was more to that story, but at the moment he couldn't bring himself to care. Right now he was just focused on not messing this up.

"Shall we toast?" Steve asked as he raised his glass.

"To beginnings," Tony said, voice husky and low.

Steve shivered as a bloom of sweet hope rose in his chest. "To beginnings," he repeated, clinking crystal and reassuring himself that he was not in fact blushing.

-#-#-#-

Clint tried to control his grin as he stepped into the lab and spotted his… lover? Boyfriend? Both, he hoped… hunched over a microscope. Without a word he sidled up behind Bruce and rested gentle hands on his surprisingly muscular shoulders.

"Hi, Clint," the scientist greeted, not the least bit surprised.

The assassin chuckled and leaned forward to kiss the sweet smelling curls. "How did you know it was me?" he asked, wondering if he should feel put out that he couldn't sneak up on the Doc.

"Your smell," Bruce answered absently as he adjusted the magnification.

"My smell?" Clint prompted as he began to gently massage the tight arm muscles.

"Mmhmm," Bruce hummed in agreement. "Dove soap, beeswax, and Tide… sometimes stale, but you haven't been in the vents today."

Clint blinked in shock. "How…" he trailed off faintly, utterly amazed.

Bruce, having finally caught up to the absentminded conversation, turned to Clint wide-eyed, face red as a tomato. "I'm so sorry, Clint. I…" he trailed off helplessly as he floundered for an explanation.

Chuckling, the archer reached out to cup a stubbled cheek in his hand. "You always had such a good sense of smell?" he asked.

Bruce looked away, "The other guy… sometimes we spill over into each other."

Nodding, Clint moved to trace a callused thumb over Bruce's cheekbone; it made a lot of sense. "You almost done for the night?" he asked softly as his thumb trailed lower to bitten and chapped lips.

Bruce felt his heart beat pick up, blood rushing, as his breath hitched.

"Yeah," Bruce whispered as that blond head dipped and lips softly, sweetly met his own. Bruce settled his hands on slim hips as he eagerly returned the gesture, kissing and nipping until they broke apart, both panting for breath.

Resting their foreheads together, Clint smirked, lips now pink and glossy. "Can I tempt you to bed?" he asked huskily.

"You finished helping Tony?" Bruce asked, already standing from his chair to press closer to Clint.

"Debt repaid," Clint replied as he wrapped a sinewy arm around Bruce's waist and dragged him toward the elevator.

As they stumbled in, Bruce kissed him again, all heat and passion now as the normally placid scientist pinned him to the wall with a low, grumbling growl. Clint moaned faintly as he wrapped himself around his lover. Burying his face in Bruce's warm neck, he didn't even notice as the doors slid close.

-#-#-#-

It felt like Steve had known him his whole life. It was cliché and sappy and ridiculous… and Steve just couldn't help it. They talked and laughed for hours, smiling at one another in the dim candlelight. Tony was easy to talk to – smart, charming, and brutally honest. He held nothing back, and Steve found it impossible to not return his honesty in equal measure.

Whether it was the wine or the company, the genius found himself giving voice to thoughts he thought he'd buried long ago – his time in Afghanistan, his fears as Iron Man, the palladium poisoning, and any number of failings that he seemed unable to keep inside. The words poured forth unceasingly and Steve was helpless to stop them.

Tony listened attentively, comfortingly holding Steve's hand in his own. He never once wavered, sitting there until the candles burned low and Steve's voice became hoarse and scratchy.

Sipping the last of his water, the billionaire felt the faintest touch of lips on the back of his hand. As he looked, up, Tony smiled, "Time to go inside."

Steve felt as though he was in a dream. The world was seemingly a blur of surreal lights and colors as they headed back to the elevator. Everything was fuzzy and out of focus except the man before him. Tony, looking so handsome, quirked his lips in a soft smile. Steve couldn't resist, wouldn't want to even if he were able.

As the elevator moved, Steve found himself swaying towards the super solider. Strong arms enfolded him, holding him close as their lips met sweetly. Steve could taste the wine they had shared, the sweetness of dessert, and the smoky subtle essence of tobacco. Moaning faintly, Steve pressed closer and the pair leaned against the mirrored wall as all else fell away.

An eternity later they were moving. Hands soothing and gentle, Tony steered them down the hall towards the doors of Steve's room.

As they paused outside the threshold, the blond couldn't help but marginally stiffen. Steve wanted this – wanted this in the worst way. But something in the back of his mind was balking. His life had been filled with one-night stands and failed connections. And whatever this was with Tony, he didn't want to screw it up like he had everything else in his life.

Tony knew something was wrong; he could feel the tension in the man in his arms. Gently he pulled back with a final tender kiss. "I had a nice time tonight," he said gently as he played with the soft hair at the nape of the other's neck.

"Me, too," Steve said, meaning it with all of his mechanical heart.

"Maybe you'd like to do it again?" Tony asked hopefully, whispering in the dimly lit hall, somehow worried that speaking any louder would break whatever spell they were under.

"Yes." Steve once more found the words slipping from his lips before he could think better of it. The grin Tony gave him in reply was so sweetly genuine it made his chest ache.

With one final kiss, Tony pulled away. "Goodnight, Steve," he said quietly, then turned and headed back down the hall, hands in his pockets.

Steve didn't move until Tony had disappeared into the elevator. Alone now, he let out a shuddering breath and squeezed his eyes closed as something very near a sob threatened to erupt. Sinking to the ground, he buried his head in his hands. Why was this so hard?

"I love you," he whispered brokenly into the darkness.

-#-#-#-

Tony Stark lay smiling up at the ceiling in the darkness. Tonight had been wonderful, everything he'd imagined. It was a date that had been long in coming, he supposed self-deprecatingly.

"Managed to land my own date tonight, brother," he said aloud into the quiet dark, wondering just how hard Howard was laughing at him.

Finally closing his dark eyes, he hummed happily, words half-forming on his lips, "Dream a little dream of me…"

-#-#-#-

Steve woke abruptly, a scream on his lips, chest heaving and aching with a phantom pain. He could taste the dirty water once more, gritty and foul, and feel the burn of electricity across his chest. His shirt stuck to him, sweat-soaked and uncomfortable, as his blond hair matted to his head. Shuddering, he gasped for air as tears and sweat ran down his face.

A sudden crack of thunder outside had him all but jumping out of his skin. Sobbing brokenly, he scrubbed at his face.

"Sir, are you alright? Your heart rate is elevated." JARVIS asked, as concerned as an AI could be.

"No," Steve whispered, feeling lost and alone. He was back in Afghanistan again, and no one was coming.

He couldn't do it – not again.

Kicking the covers off, he staggered out of bed and into the hallway. The dim light of the arc reactor lit the way to the elevator, which took him directly to Tony's floor on JARVIS's command. He didn't even have the will power to sass his creation for its presumptions – especially when they were right on the money.

When the doors opened, he stumbled out and towards Tony's bedroom. Outside he could hear the water pelting the windows as the storm raged unabated. He didn't knock, and was unsurprised when the door easily swung open to reveal… an empty bed. His steps faltered abruptly. Where was Tony?

Panic began to set in as Steve stared intently at the empty bed, as if he could somehow summon the other man. "Tony," the name fell plaintive and desperate from his lips.

"What?" Suddenly a tousled head appeared on the other side of the bed, slumberous dark eyes blinking as the soldier tried to orient himself.

Steve almost sobbed with relief. "Tony!" he breathed as he rounded the bed. In a heartbeat he was in Tony's arms, clinging as tight as he possibly could, burying his face in the sleep-warmed neck of the other man.

Tony made a soft sound of understanding, automatically enfolding Steve in a tight embrace, cradling him close.

Steve closed his eyes tight and focused on the warmth of the other man's arms, the strong beat of his heart, and the steady rhythm of his breath.

Tony didn't move, didn't speak – just held the genius close, gently caressing his back as Steve slowly began to relax. They stayed that way for long moments, content in their closeness, until Steve broke the silence.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, resting his forehead on a strong shoulder, hearing the scratch of his raw throat.

"Nothing to be sorry for," Tony returned gently.

A watery chuckle was Tony's reply as Steve slowly pulled away, the small space between them illuminated by his chest.

"Nightmares?" Tony asked hesitantly, hands still smoothing over warm skin.

Steve nodded slowly. "I guess talking about it tonight brought it all to the surface," he tried to explain.

Tony smoothed back sweat-matted hair, "We all have our demons."

"Except for Captain America," Steve tried to joke.

"Except for Captain America," Tony snorted in derision. "Tony Stark, however… he's a mess."

Steve Rogers blinked as his smile became a little more genuine. "Good, because I am, too."

They grinned shyly at one another, bathed in calm blue light from Steve's arc reactor. Finally the billionaire glanced around, realizing they were on the floor, while the pristine bed sat beside them, looking like it'd never been used.

"Why are we on the floor?" he mumbled, unaware he'd spoken aloud. He immediately felt Tony flinch at the question.

"Sorry," Tony apologized. As Steve looked to him curiously, brown eyes turned away, embarrassed.

"Beds were a luxury during the war… just got used to doing without," he explained softly, running a hand through already thoroughly mussed hair.

Steve nodded reassuringly, "No judgment here."

Tony looked back at him through thick lashes, a small and relieved smile quirking perfect lips. At the sight, Steve couldn't resist; he kissed him. It was sloppy and uncoordinated, all passion and unvoiced emotion, as Tony eagerly reciprocated.

The super solider was suddenly very aware he had a warm, pliant blond wiggling in his lap, and there was nothing but a bed sheet between them. He could feel his neck and chest heating by the second.

Steve pulled away panting and flushed, wide eyes looking down, "You're not wearing anything, are you?"

Tony got hotter. "No," he confirmed.

"Do you always sleep in the buff?" Steve couldn't help but ask, unable to keep himself from wiggling a little more.

Groaning, Tony settled big hands on Steve's hips, stilling his movements out of sheer self-preservation. "Yeah," he breathed.

Steve groaned aloud this time as the knowledge sent a thrill of pleasure down his spine. They were kissing again then – teeth, lips, and tongue all meshing and melding. Steve, unable to get enough of the other, began running his hands up and down the planes of powerful muscle.

Nimble fingers danced across smooth skin, pausing when they encountered a hard raised line of skin. Unconsciously he followed along it, trailing up to just under Tony's ribs. Skimming higher still, he felt a round puckered wound he knew could only be from a bullet. Steve frowned as he found still more scars.

Tony felt the lips against his slow, then stop all together. Concerned, he pulled back to look down at the pale, lean hand pressed to his chest. Tony reached up, laying his own hand over Steve's.

"Tony?" Steve asked hesitantly, and the solider knew he was asking without words.

Tony didn't hesitate; Steve had given so much of himself already. "I was shot three times by Hydra agents and left for dead in the Belgian forest." The hand froze, pressing hard for a moment before moving back to the long line on his side. "Shrapnel from a tank explosion."

The jagged line at his collarbone. "Bar fight in England. Got between Rhodes and some people who felt skin color dictates the metal of a man."

Steve felt his blood run cold; sometimes he forgot just how long Tony had slept and how many changes – for better or worse – had been wrought in society since then.

Steve wrapped slender arms around his neck and pressed close. "Why?" he found himself whispering, unsure just what he was asking. Why so much pain? Why did Tony do what he did? Why keep doing it?

Tony didn't seem to suffer from any such conflict. "My brother once told me it was because I had more bravery than common sense, Rhodes said it was because I was too stupid to know any better, and Doctor Erskine said it was because I was meant for great things."

Steve pulled back slightly and looked searchingly into his dark eyes.

"Truthfully, though," Tony continued, "I think it's because I forgot to read the fine print."

Steve stared at him in disbelief for almost a full minute before he laughed, loud and relieved, as if a weight had been lifted from him. Tony grinned widely, unable to help himself at the happy sound. Still chuckling softly, Steve sunk once more into the soldier's embrace, warm and content and suddenly beyond tired. He had run the emotional gamut tonight. Blue eyes blinked slowly, sluggish in their movements. His mind drifted as the quiet darkness called to him.

Tony knew the second Steve fell asleep, relaxing completely in his arms. Tony pressed a kiss to the ruffled blond hair before gently settling back onto the floor, Steve sprawled across his chest.

Outside the storm continued to rumble and rattle, but Tony couldn't remember a more beautiful night.

-#-#-#-

"Ok, who's coming now?" Clint asked, staring at his boyfriend from across the table.

Bruce groaned behind his paper. "I'm not doing it," he said flatly.

"Oh, come on. Please? Pretty please?"

The scientist made the mistake of peeking around the paper to look at his pouting archer. Sighing heavily, he listened to the slow steps shuffling towards them before scenting the air expertly. "Steve," he answered definitively as he turned back to his reading.

Intrigued, Clint stared at the doorway as the steps got closer; he all but cackled when a tousled blond head appeared. "No way!"

Bruce hid his smile.

"What's he smell like?" Clint asked eagerly as the inventor zombie stumbled past them to the coffee machine.

"Clint," he hissed disapprovingly.

"Come on, babe. He's not coherent until at least cup three."

Rolling hazel eyes, the doctor groaned, more for show than anything. "Like coffee, Old Spice, and metal… sometimes Scotch."

Clint looked at him in surprise. "Really? Old Spice? Not like some high end, three thousand dollar a bottle stuff?"

Bruce grinned rather smugly. "It's not Steve's usual brand; it's Tony's." Hazel eyes peeked over the top of his paper, more than pleased by the shocked expression on his lover's face.

The blond laughed heartily, "Get some, Cap."

"What's so funny?" Steve mumbled as he joined them at the table.

Clint was still grinning as he answered, "Bruce has crazy super smelling powers."

Steve perked up at that. "What? Really?"

Groaning, the scientist shook his head. "It's not a superpower, it's just a side effect of my condition."

Steve was looking at Bruce with his head cocked, more awake now that he was interested. "So… what? You can tell who's coming just by the way they smell?"

The dark haired man was about to reply when they heard voices down the hall and a booming laugh they all knew belonged to Thor. "Most invigorating, Anthony," the god was saying.

Steve automatically looked towards Tony as he entered the kitchen, looking sweaty and oh so good this morning – even with the black eye he was sporting.

"Good fight," Tony returned with a grin as he headed for the fridge.

Barely restraining himself from sighing like a lovesick schoolgirl, Steve was unable to take his eyes off the man as he moved around the room.

"So what about Thor?" Clint asked, drawing Steve's attention back to the rather interesting conversation they'd been having.

The god perked up as he heard his name, "Yes?"

Bruce looked pained. "Do I have to?"

Clint stared at him with puppy dog eyes, his unbelievably clear grey eyes wide and pleading.

Letting out a long-suffering sigh, Bruce leaned back in his chair, paper forgotten, as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Electricity mostly. And leather… sometimes sugar."

"Electricity has a smell?" Steve asked, intrigued despite himself.

"Sure," Bruce shrugged. "Just like the way you smell of metal. "

Thor looked confused, while Tony watched the proceedings from across the kitchen, a small smile on his lips.

"What goes here, doctor?" Thor asked, looking between the men at the table.

"Bruce is using his superpowers," Steve teased with a smirk.

The big blond looked suitably impressed.

"What about Tony?" Steve asked.

The solider spoke up from across the kitchen. "I know that one – smoke mostly, nice cologne, and paper." When they all stared at him, shocked, Tony just grinned wider. "Hulk told me."

Blinking, Bruce laughed as Clint and Steve grinned as well.

Thor just nodded sagely, "Warrior Hulk is very wise."

That earned another round of laughter. Still chuckling, Steve glanced over at Tony, only to see the man wink at him.

Steve Rogers would swear he didn't blush.