Chapter Text
“Fine,” Steve says at last, which makes Tony straighten up in surprise. “Yes. Let’s do it.”
“Oh! Oh shit, okay.” Tony quickly checks the calendar on his phone before Steve can change his mind. “You won’t regret this. Let’s pick a day. Friday good for you?”
Steve thinks. “Friday’s fine.”
“Great!” Tony beams, then figures that his face is probably doing something unnervingly enthusiastic and/or smug, so he modulates his smile into a variation that’s less likely to make Steve run for the hills. Steve, unfortunately, sees right through the effort, though he seems too bemused to come up with a cutting reply.
It’s tempting to break the tension with a joke, but to defuse the awkwardness would also undercut Tony’s intentions. Because Tony’s dead serious here. He wants three dates – three, exactly – and Steve just said yes. Steve’s still unconvinced that Tony meant it, let alone that he’s not going to make a farce of the endeavor at Steve’s expense, so Tony’s mission to convince him starts now. Set the clock.
Hence, it is with great effort that Tony dives deep into himself, and drags out what little Steve-shaped earnest sincerity he can muster, and says, “Thank you. Even if you’re not into it, I really appreciate that you’re giving me a shot.”
Steve’s mouth quirks a little – amused, polite, and mildly cautious. “Okay.”
Then, because Tony does have his limits, he adds, “There’ll be a pop quiz at the end, though, so you gotta pay attention.”
“Right,” Steve says with a laugh, and Tony grins right back at him.
Steve has no idea what he’s in for. Tony mentally rubs his hands together and starts planning.
Tony can do this.
He can; he’s older and wiser now. (Comparatively.) His appalling romantic history is merely a base point from which to not make the same mistakes with Steve, that’s all. Besides, isn’t Tony’s whole thing a story of redemption and recovery?
Tony has three dates with Steve, and he’s going to make them count.
Fact 1: Steve hasn’t been on many dates in his life. Admittedly this is more conjecture than cold hard fact, and was cobbled together from the few times Tony heard Steve wryly mention his inexperience in the same breath as losing most of his friends in one fell swoop.
That said, a lack of experience doesn’t equal a desire to do All the Things in order to catch up. Tony is the sort of person who’d do a dating speed run to binge on what he’s missed; Steve is not. Probably not? Tony’s knowledge of the intricacies of one Steve Rogers is sadly limited, but he thinks that this particular instance weighs heavier on the likelihood that Steve just doesn’t care about the dating scene that much. Steve is less about the wistful sighs, and more about subtle eye-rolling whenever Natasha heckles him.
Thus Tony’s choice to go with a low-pressure destination for their first date.
Friday, when it rolls around, sees Tony taking Steve on a leisurely drive out of Manhattan to a diner he sometimes goes to with Rhodey when they’re on the east coast. It’s nothing fancy but the burgers are great and milkshakes better, and Tony has gone there often enough to know that their photos aren’t going to end up splashed all over the internet before the night is out.
Steve exits the car and takes it in. “This it?”
Tony tries not to sound too eager. “Did you want something else? We can do something else—”
“No, no, it’s just…” Steve’s face smooths over, the way it does when he thinks he’s missed some cultural context and is trying to decide how much he cares about it. But then he looks back at the small place, with its pretend-neon billboard and row of booths inside, and smiles. “Let me guess. Burgers?”
“Naturally.”
Tony knows what Steve was expecting, no matter that he already told Steve to dress down tonight and relax. No ties or jackets, Tony said – and Steve asked again two more times to be sure, as if he thought that he heard wrong, or that Tony was going to pull a fast one on him. As if.
Fact 2: Steve isn’t sure if he’s into men, but he’s open to the idea.
Response: Tony is extremely mindful of Steve’s personal space.
When they walk up the diner together, Tony keeps pace and minds his elbows, making sure not to knock Steve’s giant arms. Tony opens the door for Steve – who raises his eyebrows but acknowledges the gesture with a small smile – and does not touch any part of his body as Steve moves past him. They get a booth at the far end, and as they sit Tony mentally marks an invisible border bisecting said booth that he will do his best not to encroach tonight.
“You’re familiar with this place,” Steve observes. “Lady nodded at you when we came in.”
“Yeah, I come here sometimes.” Tony plucks the menu and slides it towards Steve. “It’s cozy, people keep to themselves, that kind of thing. Anyway, I may be here for a burger, but the grill’s pretty good, too. You’re hungry, yeah? You forget to feed yourself sometimes, after a mission.”
Steve scowls, but there’s no heat in it. “Spoken as someone who often does the same.”
“Exactly, so I know what I’m talking about.” Tony taps the menu. “Don’t miss the mashed potatoes. The gravy. I know you’ve been craving that lately. See, I pay attention! Well, sometimes.”
“Sometimes,” Steve concedes. Then he sobers. “I don’t mean that in an unkind way—”
“Yeah, I know—”
“No, not like that. I know that you have a lot going on in that head of yours at any given moment.” Tony tries not to feel too flattered about Steve’s lenient observation; the guy thinks the same about everyone. “But you try.”
“Sometimes,” Tony echoes, hopefully threading the fine line between self-deprecation and cheek. It seems to land, judging from Steve’s amused huff. “Thanks.”
When the waitress comes by to take their orders, Steve goes along with all of Tony’s suggestions. The evening starts with easy talk about work and the rest of the team, and catching up with what the other has been doing lately. Nothing deep or profound, because this is warm-up. Testing the waters. Getting Steve to relax.
After all, there’s not just the physical element of Steve’s comfort zone to consider, but his mental/emotional comfort zone, too. They may have been working together as Avengers for over a year now, and have been somewhat proper friends for maybe two-thirds of that time (and that’s being generous about it), but they’re not close. They barely ever hang out together where there’s just the two of them, and never outside the tower.
Tony can admit that for a while now he’s been wishing that he did know Steve better, and boy, was that a revelation when he recognized his irritation for what it was. Having the hots for Steve? Yes, that was sensible – just look at the man, et cetera. Wanting Steve to aim that small, pleased smile of his at Tony as often as possible – no, terrible, why does Tony care so much, augh that’d take so much work.
But he’d asked Steve out anyway, and here they are.
“I know we’re supposed to all help out around the tower,” Steve is saying, “but I’m a terrible cook and I just can’t subject you guys to that.”
“What, you feel guilty about it?” Tony asks. “I’ve burned things I’m pretty sure are supposed to be inflammable. Anyway, I know Bruce appreciates it when you do all slicing and dicing for him, so you’re pulling your weight and then some.”
“Clint taught me, can you believe it? I used to…” Steve trails off for a moment, a little self-consciously, then continues, “I did try to help my mother around the house back in the day, but my hand-eye coordination wasn’t that great. Now, though. Clint’s just got to show me once and the body knows what to do. Once I got the hang of it, I’m faster than him.”
Tony laughs. “Bet he didn’t care for that.”
“You’re not wrong.” The corners of Steve’s eyes crinkle when he smiles.
See, Tony’s doing so good! The small talk is small and inconsequential and continuous, Steve hasn’t looked bored or offended even once, and Tony hasn’t made a single dirty joke all evening, since he’s minding the aforementioned fact that Steve’s still new to the concept of dating a man.
That dating-men topic even gets brought up, while Steve’s going through his second wind of biscuits and extra gravy. It also marks a shift from small talk to less-small talk, along with the slow opening of Steve’s body language, which are further wins.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but it’s not usually like this, is it?” Steve says. “Men, in… courtship. Is that the word? Going out. Together.”
“I want to say that it can be like that, but I don’t actually know.” Tony gestures at himself. “I’m an outlier, I’ve been told.”
“But you have gone out with men. With… intentions.”
“Maybe try to make that sound a little less ominous.”
Steve purses his lips. “You know what I mean.”
“Yes, fine, god,” Tony says with a laugh. “Of course I have. And no, I’ve never done it like this. Why are you asking? It’s not what you thought it’d be?”
“Well, it’s…” While Steve ruminates on that, he folds the last of his fries into a salad leaf and shoves it into his mouth. He chews, swallows, and holds Tony’s gaze thoughtfully throughout as though daring Tony to make sense. “This just feels like… dinner.”
Tony sips his coffee. “Because it is dinner, Steve.”
“We could’ve done this anyway. You didn’t have to ask me for a date.”
“Maybe.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
There’s fact 3, which is: Steve isn’t into Tony. And this one is a fact, which has been confirmed by the man himself. Steve had been very apologetic about it, too, when Tony first prodded him for a date.
Steve may know Tony better than the average Joe off the street, but that’s in the capacity of a friend and a coworker. Tony’s reasonably certain that Steve’s learned not to take Tony’s public reputation at face value anymore, but not all of that reputation is untrue. Tony is a lot. A handful. Two or more handfuls. Anyone who isn’t braced for it – even someone like Steve, who can roll with a lot – will be overwhelmed, and that’s just the reality of it.
Tony doesn’t want Steve to be overwhelmed.
“It means that I can slow down,” Tony says. “People think that I can’t, and that I can’t read a room, but I can. When I… focus, or whatever. So right now I’m showing you that I can, and I’m doing this because I like you, and you’re worth it.”
Steve blinks a little, shoulders hunching up slightly.
Tony thinks about retreating, but Steve’s blue eyes are steady and alert. Sharp. They meet Tony’s and stay there.
Gratitude steadies Tony’s limbs and keeps him grounded. Steve said yes and he’s here. Steve, so unreadable and so difficult to understand at times, has granted Tony his full attention tonight, with no one else to distract him, and Tony feels drunk on it. Giddy. The man’s so fucking handsome in his dumb off-the-rack polo shirt and khakis pants, his hair unstyled but crisp, his collar slightly unkempt. This moment is a privilege and Tony will take it.
“You want to hear me out? What I really think about you, about all this?” Tony asks.
Steve’s warmed up. He’s primed and open, and curious to see where it goes. He wasn’t earlier in the evening, when he no doubt expected Tony to throw himself at him outright (though Tony still is, but only like… in slow motion).
Now, Steve nods. “Okay,” he says.
“You remind me to keep trying to be my best self,” Tony says. “I mean, I already know what I have to do to protect the world, but you – every day you remind me that I gotta be better for the small things, too. I think that’s why I didn’t like you at first, ‘cause you’re just living evidence of how far I have to go—”
“Tony,” Steve sighs.
“That’s not a bad thing, c’mon. Where was I? Right, okay. So there’s that, but I also want to know you. You’re so… you’re nice, sure, but you’re funny, you’re smart in ways that don’t occur to me, and you can be so mean.” Tony laughs, and Steve acknowledges the comment with small smirk. “There’s like, so much going on with you and I want to be part of that. I mean, sure, there’s so many ways this can go wrong.” Steve starts at that, but he’s still listening and damn, is getting Steve’s unfettered attention a rush or what. “The stakes we deal with are high, and we need to work together because we’re just better, together. As a team. Yeah?”
“I agree, yes.”
“So I thought to myself, could we be better as another kind of team?” Tony switches on a little – just a little, just a tease – by leaning forward and letting his mouth pull into a flirtatious smile. “I want to know you so badly. And since you’ve already seen some of the worst parts of me, I thought maybe you wouldn’t mind knowing me back the same way.”
There, gauntlet down. Steve is, as usual, difficult to parse, but he doesn’t seem appalled or scared. Thoughtful, maybe. Measuring.
Tony holds his breath. See, the trick is—
No, that’s wrong, there can be no ‘tricks’ with Steve.
Not a trick, but a strategy. Yes, Tony’s strategy with Steve relies on the very reason that he can’t fall back on the old repertoire of seduction and charm, and that reason is that Steve would see right through every single move he can make.
So Tony can’t schmooze, can’t seduce, can’t throw ludicrous gifts at Steve to make up for Tony’s emotional shortcomings. But he can be upfront with who he is and what he wants, and he’s pretty sure that Steve would appreciate that better than anything else.
Steve picks up on things faster than people expect, and among those things is Tony’s tendency to obfuscate and distract – though in respect of their growing friendship, he only calls Tony out on those idiosyncrasies sometimes, instead of always. That Tony would offer to push all that bluster away and let Steve in – as an exchange for being allowed to know Steve in return – that has to be intriguing, at least.
“And life’s short,” Tony adds. “I got too much else to worry about, so I don’t have the energy to like, suffer my attraction to you in noble silence, or whatever.”
That does get a laugh out of Steve, and it takes all of Tony’s willpower to not pump his fist in the air.
“More importantly, I trust you.” Tony takes a breath. “I’m pretty certain that if nothing comes from this, we can just keep going. You won’t hold it against me, and we can still be Avengers and do what’s right for everyone else. Because we both know that that’s more important than either of us.”
“I don’t know if it’d be as neat as you say,” Steve says slowly.
“Well, I’ll probably be really embarrassed, but better to take the shot and be sure, you know? Better than wondering about it forever.”
“Still takes guts.” Steve raises his cup of coffee, which Tony belatedly realizes is an invitation to a toast. Tony returns the gesture, and their mugs clink softly. “Good for you, Tony.”
Tony waves a hand in a flourishing half-bow. “I try.” He coughs. “So.”
“So.”
“Since you’re not bailing on me, can I just tell you how good you look tonight?”
Steve blinks. “Sure?”
“That shirt is boring as hell, but you make it look like a dream. How do you do it? Is it ‘cause you always dress for comfort so it adds to the whole vibe that you always look like the ideal version of yourself? Also, I love your eyes – it’s really hard to get a read on your face most of the time, but your eyes are just wow. So much going on there, even if I don’t always know what it is. Do you want dessert? I want something sweet.”
“Uh.” Steve looks at the menu. “Yeah, okay.”
“You can let me know if it’s too much,” Tony says. “Me being me, that is.”
“No, you’ve been really…” Steve moves his hand, right across the invisible border that Tony drew in his head, and puts it on top of Tony’s wrist. A quick squeeze, nothing at all salacious, and very much a passably platonic gesture. Even so, Tony takes it for what it is – an acceptance of the date – and does his best not to vibrate out of his skin. “This was nice. Honest, Tony.”
Tony swallows. “That’s good. Dessert, yeah?”
“Of course. What would you recommend?”
Out loud Tony starts describing the various desserts, but in his head, he releases an exhale. That hurdle was a decent-sized one, and they passed it.
Steve hasn’t shut down the night, so for all intents and purposes, Tony is winning.
He’s actually winning, holy shit. He can totally pull this off, as long as he focuses on each step, one after another, without tripping all over himself.
Dessert. More talk, some of it small, some of it slightly heavier. Tony learns some things about Steve that he never knew before – such as how Steve visits old folk homes just to talk to people – and shares some tidbits of his own. Later, Steve lets Tony pay without complaint, and they take an extra-long route back to the city. JARVIS takes over most of the driving, so they can have a friendly argument over Tony’s choices of music, which evolves into a discussion into their choices of vehicles and the number of motorbikes that Steve’s destroyed since arriving in the twenty-first century.
They reach the tower. Tony’s planned this part, too, and once they step out of the elevator into the common area he turns to Steve and says, “So, hey, I had a good time.”
“Me, too,” Steve says, sounding heartfelt and pleased. “It was very nice. I’m looking forward to the next one.”
Tony perks up. “Yeah?”
“Really,” Steve insists. The asshole probably doesn’t know how delectable he looks. The guy knows he’s handsome, sure, but he can’t have any clue how warm and kissable he is on top of that. How irresistible he is.
Yet resist Tony must, and so he limits himself to a handclasp: his palm settling warm and gentle around Steve’s wrist in a mirror of the way Steve squeezed his hand earlier tonight. But while Steve’s touch was friendly, Tony lets his touch linger on, suggestive and teasing. Steve does not pull away.
“That’s great.” Tony lets go and gives a little wave. “Night, then. I’m turning in.”
“Are you actually?” Steve raises an eyebrow.
“I don’t know, maybe.” Tony laughs. “Might tinker for a bit then turn in. Goodnight, anyway.”
“You, too.”
Tony may not have photographic memory, but he tries his damned best to keep that image of Steve smiling at him locked in his brain. Snapped and memorized in all its spectacular detail, in the hopes that it’ll haunt his dreams tonight. Look at him, he did good! He got Steve to enjoy himself! He didn’t say anything stupid or fuck up in any major way!
“I’m great at this!” Tony yells as he leaps into bed, clothes still on and all. “JARVIS, make a note. I’m a genius for asking Steve out.”
“Noted that you’re a genius, sir.”
Tony kicks his feet in the air, sending his shoes flying. “Yes, I am! I rock so hard, wow.”