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Most days, Steve felt like he had settled into the twenty-first century pretty well. The reality of having lost everyone and everything he had ever known in one fell swoop never quite seemed to stop hitting him, but that only seemed natural. The rest of it? He was learning. Catching up. Moving on, he supposed. It was new and different and strange, but he could handle it. Still, there were some things that he couldn’t help dwelling on, things that seemed to shake him to the core. Being in the future didn’t just mean the world being different. It meant he was different in it.
It was an ordinary morning, a few of the Avengers gathered in the kitchen in Avengers Tower for some wake up coffee, talking idly. Tony was chattering on about the other night, explaining why he had disappeared when a few of the others had been drinking together, and, as he spoke, he quickly caught Steve’s attention.
“So, yeah, this guy had been eyeing me for a while and he was cute so I go over to say hi,” he said, waving his mug so much Steve couldn’t help watching it as he waited for coffee to go flying, “you know, offer to buy him a drink, and he’s saying his place is nearby, but then he starts going on about Iron Man and the suit and it just, I don’t know, I guess it put me off, you know? Like he just had some--”
“You were flirting,” Steve spoke up without meaning to, a cautious curiosity to his voice, not quite a question. Tony blinked, stopping so suddenly Steve could almost hear the brakes squealing as he slammed them mid sentence.
“Uh, yeah,” Tony said when he realised what Steve meant.
“With a man …” Steve tried to specify, “in public …?”
He could feel his face heating up as he looked around at the others’ reactions to assess the situation, hoping to gain some insight into what he could expect from them. In his day, this was not something you spoke of around people you didn’t know for certain you could trust. But he couldn’t possibly have just missed the memo, couldn’t have skipped the part where everyone agreed this was a safe space for the open secret to be spilled. There was a nonchalance to it all that was unfamiliar to Steve. The rest of them had barely even been paying attention, hardly listening by the looks of it. Tony, though, seemed to be catching on.
“Yeah,” he said, a calculating look to his eyes, like Steve was one of his projects. “I flirt with whoever, whatever gender. The kids call it pansexual?” He tilted his head. “Haven’t you noticed anything like this since you thawed out? You know, people being less … secretive?” he prompted gently.
Steve shrugged, shifting his weight. “I guess I haven’t had the chance.”
Tony considered him. “Okay, let’s try to catch you up.” He clapped his hands together, mug forgotten on the counter. “When you were growing up, it was … illegal, right? Men loving men?” Steve nodded uncomfortably. Tony kept talking, his pace a little slower than usual, which still amounted to much faster than most people could keep up with. “Well, it’s not anymore -- men, women, whatever. In most places, anyway. Here, at least. I’m not exactly caught up on my queer history--” Steve almost flinched at that, Tony speaking the word so casually. “--it wasn’t the best while I was growing up, that’s for sure. People are still fighting for their rights all over the world, but same-sex marriage is allowed here now. It’s not always safe to be public about it, but things are … very different.”
Steve nodded slowly, staring into his coffee. His thoughts were going a mile a minute, too fast for him to catch any one of them, and when Tony spoke again he almost couldn’t believe what he was saying.
“That’s not a problem, is it?”
There was a challenge in Tony’s eyes, his words careful and heavy. Steve’s widened a fraction and he quickly shook his head. His body was stiff and his voice felt like gravel.
“No. No problem. Just …” he ran a finger over the rim of his mug, “different, is all.”
Tony nodded, seemingly satisfied with that. The room around them was quieter, the rest of them having tuned into the conversation more at this turn, and Steve couldn’t help feeling flayed open for them all to gawk at, insides exposed. The instinct to hide was unbearable.
Still, he couldn’t resist asking.
“What you said earlier … pan something …?” He eyed Tony, hoping he’d elaborate. He could always count on Tony to love talking.
“Pansexual,” he piped up easily. “It’s just a label, a way to describe who I am. It didn’t really exist while I was growing up, but I learned about it recently and it … I don’t know, it fits. Like I said, just means … gender makes no difference. I’m attracted to whoever I’m attracted to. There are lots of words these days that people use to describe themselves.”
“I’m asexual,” Bruce offered out of nowhere around his cup of coffee. Tony pointed at him enthusiastically.
“Thank you, science bro, exactly!” He looked back to Steve. “Means you don’t feel sexual attraction. Different to romantic attraction, right, Banner?” Bruce shrugged a kind of agreement, although he didn’t specify. Tony kept his attention on Steve. “You know? Lots of ways to describe yourself. Not everyone’s accepting, of course, but we’re working on it.” He shrugged and gave Steve a grin before pouring himself more coffee.
Steve didn’t say anything else, feeling a little overwhelmed, and the conversation picked up slowly until the rest of them moved onto other things.
It was a week later when Steve was looking for Tony in his workshop, having realised the man had been down there for a few days already, the way he would sometimes hyper-fixate on a project now and again -- that he found him speaking to Spider-Man, who was apparently helping him out with whatever he was working on. Or, rather, Tony was letting the kid rant while he worked. They were both sat around what was presumably Tony’s newest project as Steve approached, JARVIS having let him in without complaint. Spidey was gesticulating wildly the way he always did, the cartoon-like eyes of his mask widening, while Tony was busy messing with some tech Steve would never try to understand.
Spidey was obviously in the middle of some story. Steve knew he had some kind of super senses, but he was absorbed enough in what he was talking about that he didn’t notice Steve come in. “--and, yeah, it’s awkward enough that I’m trans and having to get that across without even beginning to think about the whole spider thing--”
He broke off as Steve came to a stop beside him, crossing his arms. The kid looked straight at him.
“Cap!” Spider-Man squeaked, jumping so hard he nearly fell off the table.
“Morning,” Steve said as he righted himself. “Sorry to interrupt.”
“Morning?” Tony repeated, giving him an almost dazed look.
“It’s nine a.m., Tony.”
“Fuck -- no, it’s not. It’s already Monday?”
“Thursday.”
“ What ?” he glared at Spider-Man. “Why aren’t you at school?”
The kid looked sheepish. “I-- I was gonna head there soon.”
“What does that mean?” Steve asked, and Spidey’s lenses went wide as he realised Steve was speaking to him. Steve didn’t like to make him nervous, but that seemed unavoidable with this kid.
“Wh-- What?”
“Just now, you called yourself … trans?” Steve said, brow furrowing as he tried to remember. It had sounded important, and he couldn’t help but wonder. He could actually see Spidey swallow through the suit he was wearing.
Spidey looked to Tony as though for reassurance or confirmation, who nodded -- a look not so unfamiliar to Steve, and he recognised why as Spidey explained.
“Okay, so, don’t go spreading it around or anything but, yeah, I’m trans. Transgender,” he clarified awkwardly. “It means, like … the gender I identify as is different to what I was assigned at birth. So I’m a guy , but, well,” he shrugged, “my medical records don’t exactly agree, you know?”
Steve’s eyebrows were knitted together, and if he hadn’t been so distracted he would have noticed how worried Spider-Man looked, hands fidgeting restlessly. He relaxed, though, when Steve slowly responded, “I knew some people like that.”
“You-- You did?” His lenses were huge with surprise.
Steve nodded, looking up at him thoughtfully. “I grew up in Brooklyn and that was always sort of the place to be for … gay folk? So I met my fair share of people who described themselves like that, although they had different words for it.” He shook his head. “They just weren’t always … open about it elsewhere. Thanks, kid,” he added with a quick smile, “for the explanation. Lots for me to catch up on, huh? Anyway, Tony, you’ve been down here for days, understand? Miss Potts really isn’t happy.”
Tony’s groaning quickly moved the conversation on and Steve forgot about it. For a while.
“Tony.”
Tony raised an eyebrow, shifting his relaxed position on the couch. “Oh, I know that tone. Am I in trouble?”
“No, no,” Steve said, fighting the urge to roll his eyes even as a smile played on his lips. Tony tended to have that effect. “I want to talk to you about something.” At Tony’s questioning look, he slowly sat down and clarified, “It’s personal.”
“Oh. Alright, no problem, Cap.”
“Steve.”
“… Steve.”
“I just-- I thought you might understand.”
Tony’s brow was furrowed. “Understand …?”
Clearing his throat, Steve began, “Do you remember recently we talked about how things have changed for, um, the LGBTQ community?”
Tony raised an eyebrow, looking suddenly interested. “You’ve been doing research.”
“I … have.” Steve could tell he was hunched in on himself, head ducked down, but he couldn’t help the instinct he still got, thinking he was still small enough to disappear into himself. He curled and uncurled his fingers in his lap as he spoke. He’d never had to admit this to someone. They either knew, or it wasn’t safe for them to know. But Tony was safe. “You have no idea how strange it’s been to wake up in a world like this, Tony,” he said. “I have to … redefine everything I thought I knew. But, in some ways, I can be more myself. So, yes, I looked into it and I’m bisexual.”
“Oh,” Tony said. “Oh!”
The corner of Steve’s mouth twitched. “It’s not like I didn’t know . You just have a word for it now. Took some reading to decide what to call myself.”
Tony blinked rapidly. “That’s -- awesome, Cap. Steve! Steve. I--” He ran a hand through his hair and huffed a laugh. “I gotta say, I didn’t see that one coming.”
Steve grinned now, raising an eyebrow at him. “Blond-haired, blue-eyed, poster child American man? Yeah. I guess I get that.”
Tony laughed a little. “It’s just that you were everyone’s hero for such a long time. ‘Captain America’. And now you are again. And …” He shrugged, “Queer heroes are kind of a rarity. Or, I mean, it seems that way; those parts of them have mostly been hidden in the past.” He shook his head, then, leaning back into the couch. “Getting to know you has been pretty weird, you know that, capsicle? You kind of forget there’s a real person under there. I mean, they say not to meet your heroes, but I gotta say I’m glad I did, ‘cause you ain’t half bad.”
Steve laughed lightly, shaking his head. “I’m glad, too. And, hey, we’ve got a few … queer heroes right here, don’t we? Times are changing, as everyone keeps reminding me.”
Tony eyed him, not quite smiling. “Why are you telling me?” he said at length.
That was hardly a difficult question. It surprised Steve that he even asked.
“Tony, you’ve taught me so much. You’ve been a friend to me, ever since I came out of the ice--” At Tony’s disbelieving look, he backtracked. “Okay, we had a rocky start, but still. I just mean to say that … I feel I can talk to you. I trust you.”
For a moment, they just looked at each other, Steve holding Tony’s gaze steadily. Tony’s lips parted and, finally, he blurted, “Neat!”
Steve’s eyebrows raised. Tony flicked his eyes over his face in something like panic then abruptly got to his feet, clapping his hands together. “Uh, great talk, Cap, I’m real proud of you! Thanks for sharing. Anyway, I’m still in the middle of that project, actually, so I better get-- uh-- yeah. Okay! Things to do. I’ll see you.”
He was halfway out of the room before he even finished talking, almost tripping over his own feet. Steve watched him go and then looked at the floor, shaking his head with a smile he didn’t bother to hide with no one watching.
He had learned pretty quickly that Tony wasn’t the best at emotion, especially if it involved people saying genuine nice things to him. Steve had warmed up to his smirks and arrogant responses to casual compliments, but sometimes he liked to say things that threw him off a little on purpose just to watch him get flustered. Steve always meant it, of course, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t fun. So far, Tony didn’t seem to have noticed, as if he didn’t think Steve capable of messing with him like that.
It didn’t take long after that conversation to realise that maybe the urge to make Tony blush wasn’t entirely just for fun.
It was one thing to think it was cute how the red rose up his neck before he darted away, and quite another to think he was adorable when Steve came knocking at his door at eight in the morning to discuss some points for that day’s upcoming team meeting and Tony only squinted at him, an angel with a crooked halo with his mussed up dark hair and the hallway light hitting his face lopsided. It was another thing to catch his eyes drifting to Tony’s mouth as he leaned across his worktop, animatedly describing his newest project with wild hands. And it was something else to have to force himself to focus on a fight if he knew Tony was somewhere else, if he couldn’t have his eyes on him, couldn’t know he was alright.
Steve started to realise that he had been pushing certain feelings down, out of habit if nothing else.
But there was no reason to do that anymore.
He wanted to be careful about showing his feelings, though. He wanted to be sure there was a chance Tony was interested before doing anything to change things between them. It had taken them long enough to get past their differences to become friends.
Upping the game was as simple as finally responding to Tony’s natural borderline flirtatious way of interacting with almost anyone. Like when Tony threw him a, “Looking good, Cap!” after training as he headed past, he caught Tony with a friendly hand on his shoulder and leaned in to say in a low voice, “Not so bad yourself,” before sauntering off. If he noticed Tony watching him during training, he’d hold his gaze until even the great Tony Stark ended up looking away first. At the next party, when he gave Tony in his perfectly tailored suit an appreciative look, Tony said, as though on instinct, “Like what you see?” And Steve watched the pink rise in his cheeks when Steve met his eyes and replied, “You’ve always looked good in a suit.” Later that night, he was even so bold as to ask Tony to dance, and although he accepted and they had a perfectly nice evening, he swore he felt Tony’s pulse hammering against his wrist where their hands met.
He knew by now that there was attraction there, but if that was all it was he didn’t want to risk their friendship and upset the team dynamic for nothing more than a fling. He wasn’t interested in anything casual. He hoped Tony saw that, in the way Steve always found time for them to spend together outside training, the way he’d go looking for him in the lab with Bruce or alone in his workshop with takeout after too long without him resurfacing, the way he noticed Tony’s injuries and made sure he was taking proper care of himself when he needed it.
After weeks of this, Tony had yet to respond in any real way. So Steve was surprised when he brought Tony something to eat one long night in his workshop and, after Steve had settled down to eat quietly with him, Tony caught Steve looking at him -- quite by accident this time, as Steve really was prone to watching Tony now and again without even noticing -- and finally said, apropos of nothing: “Okay, what is happening here?”
Steve blinked and straightened, putting down the fork he had been holding without using it for far too long. “Sorry?”
“This, everything--” Tony waved at the food, at Steve, then cut off and put down his tools, standing up. “Steve, have you--” He ran a hand through his hair, looking kind of amazed at what he was about to say. “Have you been flirting with me?”
Steve tried to bite down his smile, not wanting to seem like he wasn’t taking this seriously, but he could hear the amusement in his voice still as he raised an eyebrow. “Was I not being obvious enough?” he said, and Tony stared. Steve slowly stood up, too, and explained, “Listen, I didn’t want to push too hard because we’re friends and teammates, but I’ve gotten used to being very subtle with men and I was really hoping I was being a little more direct.”
Tony was entirely still. “What. Wait, what -- You like me?”
“Yes, Tony, I like you,” he said patiently, looking up at him through his lashes with a soft smile and speaking very clearly so as to be as direct as possible. “I am interested in you, romantically , and I would love to take you out sometime if you--”
Steve cut off as Tony grabbed the front of his shirt, and then found himself stumbling back in his surprise when Tony surged forward and kissed him. His hands went to Tony’s waist, partly just instinctively to steady them, while Tony’s winded their way into his hair. Tony tugged a little as Steve kissed back enthusiastically, and when Steve let out a soft sound in response Tony broke away all at once.
He backed up a few steps, running his hands through his hair, eyes wide. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, that was way too fast--”
“I’m not complaining,” Steve interrupted him calmly, though his lips were still buzzing and his hair was surely a mess.
Tony looked at him and laughed a little manically, catching his breath. In the light of the workshop, Steve could see that his pupils were blown huge.
“I’m really not the traditional option in any way, am I?” he decided after a moment.
“You’ve always been all future, Tony,” Steve said. “I’m basically a slice of the past. I think you’re good for me.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “As a friend or whatever else.”
Tony eyed him. “… We can definitely see about whatever else.”
He laughed. “I’d like that.”
Tony sat down, taking a breath as he stared at his hands. Then he looked up at Steve. “So … dinner sometime?”
“Sure,” he grinned.
Tony grinned back and picked up his takeout again. They picked at their food in silence for a few minutes, though it was already kind of cold and neither of them were really hungry anymore.
“What?” Steve finally asked, noticing the strange look on Tony’s face.
Tony didn’t lift his gaze. “Nothing,” he said, “I’m just surprised. I guess … I couldn’t really believe it. Steve Rogers being interested in me. I know we’re friends, Cap, I don’t doubt that,” he reassured Steve quickly, “but you’re just … the perfect guy. I know everyone thinks that about you, but to me you’re perfect because I know you’re not. You’re so real and good and probably the healthiest thing in my life. And I’m good when I’m around you. And I just couldn’t picture you wanting me because I’m …” He rolled his eyes suddenly, throwing his hands up. “God, I don’t know, Steve, I’m me. You know what I mean. I’m snarky and self-destructive and apparently a textbook narcissist and it’s honestly a miracle I became a hero. Not to mention my … reputation.” Tony quirked an eyebrow at Steve at that, though his eyes skittered away from him just as quickly.
Steve had had talks like this with Tony before, and he had just as little patience for Tony’s self-deprecation now as he always did. But this was a threshold of sorts for them. To be handled with care. He kept his unwavering gaze on Tony as he spoke, catching his eyes whenever he looked up. “Tony, we both know what I thought of you in the beginning. Reputations rarely reflect the person. Meeting you has changed everything for me. I’ve watched you sacrifice yourself again and again for the sake of everyone else, and, yes, you’re a little self-destructive, but you’re also good and caring and put your heart and soul into everything you do. If you think you don’t deserve me or something, you’re wrong. I’m lucky to know you. Anyone would be lucky to be with you. I’d certainly like to be.”
He could see Tony instantly turn red at that, and he quickly dropped his head into his hands, dragging them over his face like he thought he could physically wipe it away. Steve watched him with an amused look which was really only for himself since Tony couldn’t look at him. He didn’t reply, either, but Steve didn’t need him to. Eventually, Steve just said, “Eat your food.”
“It’s cold,” was Tony’s only reply, in a voice that was still much too hoarse. He cleared his throat and watched Steve through an eye cracked half open. Steve huffed a laugh.
“I’ll go get us some coffee.”
Tony made a noise of relief as Steve rose, melting over the table. When he reached the door of the workshop, Steve knocked once for Tony’s attention, waiting until he lifted his head to speak.
“And after that, you can go to sleep.” Predictably, Tony’s mouth fell open, ready to launch into an argument, and Steve spoke patiently over him. “Don’t bother, I know your body’s built up a caffeine tolerance. It’ll cycle out of you within ten minutes.”
Tony leaned his chin heavily in his palm, propping himself up by an elbow. “You ever think maybe you’re too young for me, Rogers?” he asked tiredly, a teasing eyebrow raised.
Steve levelled him with a stern look. “Tony, I am well over twice your age.”
Tony snorted. “Alright, old man. Come complaining when you get wrinkles.”
Steve couldn’t resist a roll of his eyes. “A few more weeks with you will easily do the trick,” he muttered.
Tony shot upright, mouth falling open as he stared at him. “Was that -- snark ?” he gasped. “From Captain America ?” He tutted at this, even as Steve gave him his best unimpressed look. “That’s not very teamwork-y of you.”
Steve couldn’t suppress his laugh at that completely half-assed remark. Tony always got kind of incoherent after so long without sleep -- god knew how long exactly it had been. Steve was sure Tony didn’t.
“I’ll be sure to make it up to you,” he said with a sweet smile. Then he realised how long he had been paused at the door, and he took another step back. “After you get some rest.”
Again, he didn’t move. Another second passed and Tony stood up.
“On second thought, why don’t you just take me to bed now?” he suggested.
Whether Tony had intended it to be sexy didn’t particularly matter, because he stumbled on his way to the door so that Steve had to catch him before he fell over, and he was snoozing by the time Steve got him back to his room. Steve couldn’t bring himself to mind.