Part 2: It Isn't Technically Kidnapping, Since He Isn't a Kid
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Steve waited the allotted days Clint prescribed; he waited patiently for that signal that would eventually tell him if the coast was clear or not.
He waited until his spirit ached.
He wasn't sure if he could hold out for five whole days, but he had to. He was still desperate to find out what Clint was doing with, or rather telling, Tony at the moment. He still wanted to know if Tony was alright, that was his top priority. But he had to wait.
Finally, the longest five days of his life passed and the plan was put in motion. The thing was, Steve didn't know what the plan was, he was simply told to pack a lunch for two and wait in the car that sixth morning and Clint would take care of the rest.
ooOOoo
Tony should have known something was up when, after Clint spoke to Steve, the blonde disappeared from his radar. It was almost as if he dropped off the face of the earth. The first two days were jarring, by the third he began to relax, and on the fifth day he could breathe easy. But on the sixth day the familiar black car stood silently by the curb and a strong force was pushing him towards it.
"Clint! What are you doing? Stop!" Tony protested as his best friend used his entire body to crowbar him into the car. Steve looked just as surprised as Tony; for some reason the brunette had an inkling that the blonde had as much idea about what was going on as he did. Which is to say, none at all; that was a comfort in some way.
His momentary relief gave Clint the edge to push him into the car and lock them both inside. The Model T wasn't made to passage three individuals in the front so it was a tight fit. One Tony didn't want to be in the middle of but was, inadvertently. So to avoid any physical contact with the blonde, Tony was basically sitting on Clint's lap, which was as comfortable as you could imagine.
"Chilly outside, ain't it?" Clint asked with a bright smile on his face, Tony twisted around to scowl in his direction and Steve stared at him with a panicked look in his eye.
"Well drive won't ya', we'll be late for work if you don't." Clint reminded.
Steve obliged, staring straight ahead at the already strange day.
Tony fumed silently in his squished corner, his heart, however, hammered away miles a minute with the proximity of Steve's body heat.
He wanted to hate him, hate Steve for putting them into this situation, but he knew (even with his irrational brain) that Steve had nothing to do with it, and the person to blame was currently whistling a merry tune.
Tony decided to stare ahead and try to calm down, he could see the first signs of his workplace and soon this nightmare of a ride would be over.
Right before they arrived, Clint voiced the second part of his plan.
"So you know what they do at Picnics right Steve?" Clint said as if it was the most natural sentence to utter in that situation. "I want you to take Tony-boy over here to a nice little woodland-y area. Don't stop driving until all the factories are gone and you see a small creek. Should be pretty easy to find." Clint said getting out of the car.
Tony rolled his eyes and stared at his friend (he was really reconsidering that title) as if he'd lost a couple of marbles along the way. He began to follow, but Clint closed the door on him and looked pointedly at Steve.
"Clint, let me out." Tony demanded, but the blonde was blocking the exit with his body and stopping the door with his hand.
"Steve?" Clint asked looking at the driver. Steve looked between Clint and Tony; the sensible decision would have been to let Tony out by the driver's side and go into their workplace, Tony hasn't spoken to the police and he's had plenty of time to do so, but something told him that he wouldn't. The not-so-sensible option would be to put as much pressure on the gas as it could take and do as Clint instructed him.
As the car drove away—with Clint waving good luck and Tony screaming incoherently—Steve was surprised to find that he wasn't feeling very sensible today.
After two hours of driving, Steve finally stopped the Model T in a secluded area with small trees and a creek not far from the car. The brunette stopped screaming at him to turn around an hour ago, but his anger and frustration could still be felt through the leather of Steve's jacket.
Tony looked stonily ahead, his mouth set at a pout, and his entire body rigid as a stringed bow.
When the car came to a complete stop and Steve killed the engine, Tony was the first to get out. He slammed the door hard and hoped it broke something. His anger and rage carried him forward towards the path they just traversed. He didn't care if it'd take him ten hours to get back. He would walk them.
"Tony wait!" Steve called, running after Tony.
"Don't." Tony warned, his voice cracking incredibly as he tried his hardest to keep his composure and not kill Steve in the middle of the road.
"It was just a kiss, damn it!" Steve finally exploded. All his feelings finally culminating into that one phrase. Tony stopped abruptly and turned around slowly. The blonde looked desperate, like a child almost.
"It was just a kiss, I didn't take advantage of you, I would have stopped…I would have…" Steve said, looking like he was trying to reassure himself as much as he was trying to reassure Tony of that fact.
The shorter man sighed and returned to the passenger side of the Model T. He sighed again and returned to stand in front of Steve.
"Picnic?" Tony asked skeptically.
"Yes, a picnic."
ooOOoo
A couple of minutes later, the two of them sat on a plain blanket that overlooked the creek and the trees ahead. Steve laid out the contents of the picnic basked in-between the two of them.
"I didn't know what you ate in your sandwiches, so I just brought you every ingredient separately." Steve announced as he removed said ingredients and then his packaged sandwich.
Tony nodded curtly and began to assemble his own. Steve looked as the brunette picked his particular ingredients and memorized the combination for future reference…just in case.
They ate silently, the most time spent in silent peace since the whole kiss fiasco.
"I'm not one of you, you know. One of those things." Tony said silently as he drank the offered water.
"We're not things Tony." Steve tried to remind him.
"I just finished saying I'm not one of you!" Tony snapped, quickly looking at Steve then away. "Disgusting sodomizers, you disgusting animals have no respect for the sanctity of marriage. Or yourselves. Men are supposed to be with women, birth children, and carry on. Not… not…" Tony couldn't continue he brought his knees to his chest and leaned his head down to rest it. Steve stood up abruptly, his inner insecurities crumbling with every word Tony spoke. It was a reflection of the many things he'd heard among the years by different people who spoke so lowly of his kind. As if they were some foreign body that needed to be eradicated. But having it be said by someone he cared for cut him deeply.
Tony on the other hand projected what his father had shouted at him many times in a drunken rage.
Tony had confided in him at an early age, too early to even remember if he had said it correctly, but his father's reaction was explosive and he never said a word about it again. Of course he didn't believe a word, but it would make it easier for him to lie to Steve, he already made a fool of himself and out of the entire situation.
"You don't believe that." Steve said sitting back down on the blanket. He was staring straight ahead, his back tightly upright and his hands trembling slightly.
"I'm not one of you Steve!" Tony insisted, trying very hard to keep his voice down, but finding it impossible to do so.
"One of what? What am I then? Am I not human, do I not bleed?" Steve demanded, finally facing Tony head on. Their voices seemed to carry deep into the woods, their argument being carried by the stream, but they were all alone for miles in all directions.
Tony cracked then, collapsing on the ground, clutching at his chest. He shouldn't be doing these extraneous tasks; his heart condition didn't allow him the liberty. Steve was immediately apologetic; he moved the picnic supplies out of the way and patted Tony on the arm trying to gauge if it was okay for him to touch him.
Tony meanwhile sobbed into the sheet mumbling over and over "I'm not one of you."
Steve decided to lie down and look into the sky as Tony collected himself. A couple of minutes later the brunette's breathing had evened out and Tony was now sleeping. Steve looked to his right and into the troubled lines that coated Tony's face as he dreamt.
Steve longed to trace the lies into one smooth edge and erase the grief that he has caused with his mistake.
There was a bright side to this, however, Tony trusted him enough to sleep in his presence. Steve counted that as a win in his book.
The blonde sat back up and snuck glances of Tony's still body. The instant he started to think about touching the brunette, Tony turned to the side, simultaneously interrupting Steve's train of thought.
It was such a delicate balance between what he wanted to do, and what he could actually do. He was irrationally jealous of his own eyes, for they could gaze upon Tony's sleeping face—caress it with their function—and be content, meanwhile teasing Steve and leaving him with a strong craving.
He stood up and walked closer to the creek. He dipped a shaky hand into the cold water and splashed his face to cool his heated skin. The chilled temperature did him well, he even thought of dipping his entire head in and never resurfacing. And though that thought may be dark, if he were to resurface, he might catch pneumonia.
He returned to the small blanket on the ground where Tony now lay in a fetal position, his hands clasped tightly together and his body shaking as if he were cold.
Steve shucked his jacket, placing it lovingly over Tony's shivering frame; the brunette instantly relaxed into the warmth and let out one last shiver of appreciation as his body acclimated to the heat.
Steve grinned slightly as he resumed his position on the ground. He dug into the basket and pulled out a knife and two apples, he peeled the skin and sliced the flesh into six even pieces, repeating the process with the second apple. He took a bite into the sweet fruit and sighed contently.
He'd have to thank Clint for this later.
He finished the rest of his apple and pulled out his sketchbook and pencil from the basket. He also carried the daily newspaper, a book, and an assortment of charcoals.
He began with some practice lines, soon delving deeper and sketching the landscape in front of him.
The slight movement of Tony's shoulders caught his eye and Steve developed an idea.
He turned slightly so he was now sitting perpendicular to Tony. In the couple of minutes that it took to begin sketching his slight frame, Steve knew instantly that this would be his favorite pastime. He should probably stop, to save himself the pain of withdrawal later.
He didn't though, by the time he finished and was content with his rendition of reality, Tony began to stir and the brunette showed the first signs of consciousness. Steve closed his sketchbook and watched Tony slowly revive his limp limbs.
The brunette seemed surprised of his surroundings. He looked down at the jacket that was covering his frame, the picnic basket, the freshly cut apple, and finally, Steve.
"You didn't have to do this you know, I don't know what Clint told you but you didn't have to do it." Tony said fingering the hem of Steve's jacket. He wasn't sure if he should return it yet, it smelled so overwhelmingly of him that it clouded his judgement.
"I just wanted to apologize properly; I didn't know what to do… I was desperate." Steve admitted, lowering his head in admittance of guilt.
It took Tony a long minute to look at Steve and take in his words. He wasn't sure if it was the calm sounds of the creek, the cool air of Fall, or the fact that Steve looked like a bashful child, but whatever the reason, he decided to utter the next words.
"I forgive you."
Steve's reaction was priceless; it was as if he'd just been told he won the lottery. A bright smile encased the blonde's face and he looked overwhelmed with emotion.
"That's all I wanted, thank you." Steve said, irrationally happy in Tony's opinion. But the brunette couldn't hold back, he was also extremely overwhelmed with emotion. He smiled tentatively and then with more gusto as a wall shattered in his mental inhabitance.
"Are those slices for me?" Tony asked gesturing towards the apple.
"Yes, I didn't know how you wanted them so I peeled the skin and cut out the core." Steve admitted.
"That's exactly how I eat them." Tony replied, biting into the sweet flesh of the fruit.
As the light started to dim and the shadows the sun casted elongated, Tony found that he very much despised the thought of leaving, of leaving this peaceful space behind. He was afraid that if they left, his disgust for what Steve had done would come back full force, and he didn't want that, because he wanted Steve to do it again—and harder. So hard he would break into a million pieces.
Those thoughts hit him abruptly as he climbed into the Model T. He wanted very much for Steve to savage him, but the blonde wouldn't even touch him after the spectacle he'd created out of the whole fiasco.
Tony was now panicking, the thought of never experiencing something as intense as that kiss was daunting. It left him feeling odd and cold; he shivered and brought Steve's jacket closer around himself.
"I'm sorry it's so cold, I wish they'd put heaters in these cars. It would make them so much easier to drive in colder nights like these." Steve said apologetically.
Tony nodded, acquiescing. But the cold wasn't the reason he shivered.
The brunette gathered the courage to scoot closer to Steve until his entire side was flush against the blonde. Steve was taken by surprise, almost losing control of the wheel in the process.
Tony smiled slightly, he could do this, baby steps.
ooOOoo
As they pulled up to the sidewalk of his apartment building, Tony hated the sight. It meant a jarring realization that the day was through.
"Here we are," Steve said. "Thank you for coming with me today, or, I guess, not leaving." Steve corrected.
"Yes… um Steve, about what I said-
"No, you don't have to explain yourself. If you feel that way about uh-about me, there's nothing I can do to change your mind." Steve said solemnly.
"No, you misunderstand me." Tony whispered, looking ashamed.
Steve hated to seem hopeful, but the look on his face probably revealed it anyways, he tried to remember what Clint had told him about Tony, but the more he looked the harder it was to believe.
"I… I don't believe what I said. I don't think that way about you… or people like you… I'm just…" Tony found that he could say no more. A literal blockage was keeping his voice from escaping and making sound.
"I understand." Steve said; ready to ease Tony's discomfort. The brunette wasn't ready to reveal anything yet, which was fine by Steve.
"I just didn't want you to leave thinking that I meant all that drivel. I don't, I really truly don't. I hope you can understand that." Tony continued.
"Like it never happened." Steve promised sealing his lips and throwing the key away.
"Thank you." Tony said with a sigh of relief.
The smaller man climbed out of the car and walked slowly to the steps of his apartment. He waved goodbye as the blonde pulled out of the sidewalk and into the main road. Steve waved back and sped away.
It wasn't until he was snuggled deeply under the covers of his warm bed that he realized he forgot to return Steve's jacket.