Avengers 1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

It was late; very late. He needed coffee. And alcohol.

For the past fifteen hours, Tony Stark had been working in his lab, tinkering with his suit and developing, improving and drafting weapons and tech upgrades. He was also pissed. Angry-pissed, not the fun kind of pissed.

Earlier that day, he'd run into Rogers in the gym. He'd only intended to have a quick session on the bags and maybe some weights or something… but Captain Friggin' America was there.

He'd been punching a bag with one hand, pumping iron in the other, alternating every ten reps.

"Hi, Stark," he greeted with a grunt, pumping his left arm.

"Cap," he nodded.

"I didn't think you knew where the gym was." Rogers' voice sounded amused, even as he switched hands.

"Well, it _is_ my tower," Tony replied, picking up a much smaller set of dung bells.

"Startin' soft, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Good choice. Don't want to strain yourself too much." Rogers had probably meant to sound genial or pleasant or conversational or… whatever. But all Tony heard was condescension and disdain.

"Fuck you, Rogers. We can't _all_ drink our muscles out of a bottle! Without my father's help, you'd be a regular guy, livin' a regular life – in the 'good ol' days'. That means you'd be _dead_. Do keep pumping your iron, Captain Fabulous!" And with that, he'd dropped his weights and stormed out.

_Fucking Captain Perfect… Douche bag._

And so, since then, he'd been tinkering away in his lab, trying to forget about how he couldn't compare, physically, with any of the other Avengers.

Hell, he was sure Pepper could kick his arse if she really wanted. And All America Boy just _had_ to rub it in.

X

Steve watched as Stark left, angry at him for a complete misunderstanding. He'd only been trying to make conversation with the man! He was hoping to try and get past their initial dislike for each other. After all, they'd been through a lot together… and Stark was allowing the Avengers to live in his tower.

When Steve had returned from his impromptu road trip, he'd been hesitant to take up the generous offer. SHIELD had provided small lodgings, but at Avengers Tower, he had access to amazing facilities and any information he may need (courtesy of Stark's hacking abilities). Plus, the billionaire had provided him with his own suite. Not to mention he free food and board.

The generosity had taken him by surprise, completely shaking his view of the other man. So, he was trying to make friendly conversation, but seemed to be getting absolutely nowhere. Stark took offence to nearly everything he said!

Sighing, Steve wiped down his weight and returned it to the little tower. He picked up the smaller dung bells Stark had dropped and replaced them as well. Looking at them, he smiled. Before he'd become Captain America, he would never have been able to do the weights he could now. Stark was able to do much more than Steve was ever capable of before the Serum. _Maybe I should tell him that…_

After looking for the man in all the common areas, Steve figured he was in his private room or his lab – neither of which he was allowed (or willing) to enter. So, he went to the rec room and picked up where he left off with his documentaries. He was still catching up on world events since he'd gone under the ice.

X

Grumbling to himself, Tony made coffee and a sandwich and went to waste time in the rec room. He was sick of his lab for the time being and wanted to do something mindless.

When he entered the room, the awful music of a DVD menu was looping, accompanied by soft snores coming from the couch.

Curious, Tony peered over the back of the large sofa and raised an eyebrow at what he found.

Spangles was curled in the foetal position, cuddling a cushion to his chest, snoring. His features were smooth and peaceful; his pouty, pink lips slightly open. _He's cuter when he's asleep,_ Tony thought with a smirk.

"Rogers!" he yelled, gleefully watching the other man jump as he sat straight up, ready for action, pillow held ready for throwing at a moment's notice. "Outstanding! Why didn't I think of that? Cushions! Pillows! Stuffed animals ready for battle! I'll present a Cuddle Thrower 3000 to the president next week," he teased, motioning for the Captain to shove over.

"That was unnecessary, Stark," the blond grumbled.

"I know," he gave his trademark 'I couldn't give two shits 'cause I'm Tony Freakin' Stark' smirk, and sipped his coffee.

X

Steve knew Stark was only being defensive; he'd asked both Natasha and Miss Potts about the snarky billionaire and they'd both given similar answers.

"Tony's… well, he's the only child of a very wealthy family, who also, unfortunately sometimes, has a mind for science and technology. He can, and does, do whatever he wants, when he wants because he _knows_ he can," Pepper had said.

Natasha's answer had been more clinically observant – as he'd expected from her.

"Stark is defensive against us for two reasons," she'd said as he'd held a punching bag for her. "First, he is a spoilt genius billionaire with difficulty in interpersonal relationships stemming from both neglect as a child and the fact that his intellect meant that he advanced himself so much that he never had a chance to socialise with other, _normal_, children his own age.

"The second reason is that, physically, he knows he is weaker than the rest of us. He is smarter than all of us, but feels superior only when he can _prove_ it – this means he lashes out, teases and/or lectures. He feels physically inadequate and overcompensates with his intelligence," she ended with a particularly powerful roundhouse, barely missing Steve's fingers on the punching bag.

He'd left both women with a nearly overwhelming sense of curiosity. Tony Stark fascinated Steve; he'd never thought of Stark as insecure. The guy had always seemed so sure of himself – both physically and mentally. Until today.

Cursing himself, he opened his mouth to apologise.

"Stark, I –"

"Stark! Just who I needed to see," Barton strutted in, a grin on his face. "You up for some work?"

"Not now; I just spent fifteen hours in the lab. Maybe later… when the sun's up."

"Well, when you're ready, I'd like your help with some weapons," he clapped Stark's shoulder, nodded to Steve, and left again; unknowingly ruining the mood for Steve's apology.

"What were you saying, Spangles?" he asked around a mouthful of sandwich.

"Nothing… I forget." He offered a week smile and excused himself for bed. "Good night, Stark."

-X-

_AN: This is the start of a very long fic. It is also a belated birthday present to Werewolf Groupie. Happy birthday, my love!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Tony breathed a sigh of relief. The atmosphere in the room had been a little tense until Barton has come in and unwittingly lightened it up again.

He really didn't want to hear anything from Captain Pretty Boy. Especially after their run-in at the gym earlier.

He knew he was being ridiculous; Steve was a nice guy. And not just any nice guy, he was Captain Friggin' America, Forties-style nice guy. It made Tony sick. So, he ignored the hero and munched his sandwich.

XX

A few days later found the Avengers called before Fury and SHIELD, prepping for a new mission.

It wasn't quite the same as an alien invasion or a crazy god of chaos situation, but it was something to do. Tony did this kind of thing for a distraction, obviously not needing the pay.

Truth be told, he was bored. Yes, he enjoyed designing and inventing new toys and upgrading Jarvis, but… he felt restless. He didn't know why, but he felt as though he was missing something. He just didn't know _what._

Their latest mission was a rescue. Some troupes in Afghanistan had been backed into a corner, running out of food and ammo. A few needed medical attention and others were just run down by lack of food and fear. _Good times,_ thought Tony.

"Stark, we need you to go in and help eliminate the enemy. Banner, you're our medic. You and Rogers will be bringing supplies. Barton and Romanoff, you'll be our eyes from a distance. You two pick off enemy soldiers from a distance and help guide Stark from your vantage point."

They all took a moment to read their files and consider their course of action.

"Hulk could help me clear a path to get supplies to the boys and Rogers can follow. I'll keep tanks and gunners at bay while they do their thing. Clint and Natasha can help me pick them off."

"Good work, Stark. Now, as you all may notice, Thor is absent. He has informed me that there will be a trial and sentencing for Loki. He needs to be there for that, so he won't be around for a while," Fury informed them.

"You all have your roles; I expect one hundred per cent success," Hill said, dismissing them. "Departure is oh-seven-hundred. Be ready and waiting on the roof of Stark Tower." They gave their various acknowledgements before taking their leave to prepare.

_Finally_, thought Tony.

XX

"You ready, Big Guy?" Tony asked Hulk.

"Hulk ready, Tin Man."

They'd been dropped at a safe location about thirty miles from the little village in which the American soldiers were under siege. They were about to put their plan into action when Fury radioed into Tony's suit.

"Stark," came the gravelly transmission.

"Yeah," he acknowledged, firing up his thrusters.

"Take some enemies alive if you can." That gave Tony reason to falter.

"Why?"

"Need-to-know, Stark."

"I need to know. You got a cave out here somewhere?" his voice came out rougher than he meant.

"Just get them."

Fuming, Tony shut off the connection. His country wasn't supposed to be doing that! They were supposed to be the good guys! What was SHIELD up to?

He refused to allow memories of his time in the cave to distract him. He wouldn't let anyone else go through that – even if they were the enemy.

"Tony!" Spangles' voice broke him out of his thoughts, making him jump. "Stark, are you ready to go? What did Fury want?"

"He wants prisoners," he frowned, feeling the bile rise in his throat at the thought of what people generally did with prisoners of war. "Ignore that last order. No prisoners." He motioned for them to move out.

"Okay, guys," Steve said, taking on his Good Guy Leader voice. "No prisoners. Let's get in and out as quickly as possible." The Avengers nodded their acknowledgement and turned to their positions, waiting for the word to go. Tony looked over at the Hulk, realising he was getting antsy.

"Alright there, Big 'n' Green?" Hulk grunted, looking towards the enemy siege.

"Okay, Romanoff and Barton, keep in contact with Stark at all times. Hulk, Tin Man," he grinned cheekily at Tony, earning a deadpan look, "smash."

Finally, they moved off; the spies on dune bikes, Tony in his suit, Hulk roaring ahead of Rogers who was on his own dune bike. Tony couldn't help but feel excited. They were _finally_ doing something!

X

He knew he shouldn't have agreed to ignore a direct order from Fury, but Steve had seen the look in Stark's eyes. There was something… haunted. He was certain there was pain behind the cool, blank mask, but dared not ask or push the billionaire in any way. His chest tightened at the thought of what might have made Tony Stark react that way. He realised how little he knew about the man; how little _anyone_ knew. As he followed Hulk, he also realised how much he wanted to change that; he wanted to get to know Tony Stark.

XX

Thirty friggin' miles. Even Steve was getting sick of the scenery.

"Hey, Cap," Stark's voice came over the mic.

"We there yet?" Steve could have laughed at that… but he didn't really want to encourage the man.

"I know; it's slow going, but it's only thirty miles," he hated himself for saying that. "We have to be cautious. There might be a trap somewhere. We're halfway in. Don't worry."

"I could have been there by now. This pace is ridiculous. And the Spy Squad only radios in with 'all clear' every five minutes. Give me the order and I'll go ahead with Hulk."

"Negative. Stay safe, Tony."

Silence.

Steve cursed himself mentally. His voice was softer than he'd meant it to be.

"Dick," Stark finally replied.

X

_What the hell? "Stay safe, Tony"? Give me a break!_ Tony rolled his eyes.

"Jarvis,"

"Yes, sir?"

"Can you sense any hostile movement in the vicinity?"

"How immediate, sir?"

"Ten-mile radius."

"You're approaching the siege site, sir. Other than the obvious, there are three life forms in the north-west building, third floor. Arms detected."

"How many?"

"Three AK-47s, sir."

"They hostiles?"

"Unclear, sir."

"Roger that. Contact all Avengers with that information."

"Done, sir."

"Thanks, babe."

Tony flew ahead, aiming for the three unkowns.

He entered through a window and took in the scene before him.

Two Afghani soldiers held weapons to what looked like a civilian. The civi looked ready to shit himself. His gun lay before him as he seemingly pleaded with the others.

"Problem?" Tony asked, sauntering in as best he could in his suit.

"Out!" one of the soldiers shouted, aiming his weapon at Tony. The other kept his gun trained on their prisoner.

"Not a chance," he used his most amiable 'prepare for an arse-kicking' voice. "Drop the weapons," he said evenly.

"Not a chance," the first one said, snidely. "This man is a traitor." With that, he shot the civi in the head.

Tony watched in silent horror as the man slumped to the floor, his pleading screams abruptly cut short.

With a cry of rage and grief, Tony blasted the fucker into the wall, leaving a charred, gaping hole where his heart had been. The other man dropped his weapon, pleading in Arabic.

"Jarvis, translate."

"_Please, no! Please, I don't want to die!_"

"Neither did he," Tony said flatly, raising his hand.

"_Please! I didn't kill him!_"

"You've killed others." Jarvis sent out the translation. The man fell silent, tears streaming down his face in guilt. Tony wanted to smash him into the wall. "How many have you killed?"

"_I don't know,_" came the resigned reply. "_Many_."

Tony watched the man in silence for a moment. He was staring at the floor, tears running freely down his face. He'd given up begging for mercy quickly.

"Do you have a family?" Tony asked, watching the enemy's reaction.

"… _Yes_," came the hesitant whisper.

"Are they alive?" he asked, thinking of Yinsen's situation. At his words, the man's face crumbled; he shook his head 'no'.

"_They were killed last year when they,_" he nodded to the dead soldier next to him, "_came to our home. Now I am a soldier._" Tony watched impassively behind his mask, considering his next words.

"Do you want to live?"

"_Yes_," he whispered, closing his eyes.

All Tony could do was lower his arm and tell the man to get out.

"Leave your weapon here, take a vehicle and go."

"_To where?_" he sounded like the prospect of freedom held no appeal. He gestured out the window. "There is nowhere to go."

Tony looked outside. He watched as the rest of his team finally made it into town.

"Just go," he said lowly, taking off.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Steve was _pissed_.

Stark had suddenly taken off ahead, ignoring his cries to stop and come back. He'd watched helplessly as the stubborn jerk zoomed away, leaving him and Hulk to plough through enemy lines.

As the Hulk beat, roared and pummelled his way to the building housing the American soldiers, Steve tried to help pick off a few hostiles himself.

As he shot a man to his right, he didn't see another wounded soldier behind him pick up a gun and shoot.

Suddenly, his world went dark.

X

As Tony touched down in front of the building, he fired two rounds before watching in horror ad Rogers took a bullet to the chest. It seemed to happen in slow motion; the Captain toppled off his bike, landing on his shielded arm, completely unconscious.

Hulk kept going forward, unaware of what had just happened.

Tony screamed involuntarily, rage taking over. He flew over to the wounded man who'd shot Rogers, landing on his head, crushing his skull and mashing his brain into the ground. He picked up his team leader and flew him back to the building. He laid the unconscious man down beside an unwounded soldier, asking the man to keep pressure on the wound until help arrived.

Hulk made it to the door with a roar and changed into Banner.

"What happened?" he asked urgently.

"Cap got shot. Fix him. I got this," Tony turned towards what was left of the enemy and fired at will.

He destroyed two tanks, five jeeps and many men. He lost count after fifty.

There were no prisoners.

XX

Days later, Tony was hovering outside Roger's door on the medical floor of Avengers' Tower. The man had been in there for three days, recovering from the chest wound.

Tony was worried. Steve should have been able to shake off a wound easily, but this one was dangerously close to his heart. It was healing faster than the average human would, but the Captain was still recovering and on pain medication. And Tony knew it was completely his fault. So, he hovered outside the door, knowing he could enter at any time – it was _his_ tower, after all – but he just… couldn't. He couldn't face the consequences of his own stupid actions. Captain America was in a hospital bed because of him! Because he'd flown off, against orders and ignoring the stupidly perfect Blast From the Past.

He knew he was in for an arse-kicking from Fury… and everyone else.

_Fuck. I really fucking fucked up._

He was so angry at himself! He'd never really liked Steve Rogers – _he has stupid hair… and eyes… and lips and muscles. Who the fuck looks like that! Captain fucking Pretty…_ – but he'd never wanted to hurt – _I wanna punch his stupid, perfect face_ – okay, he'd never wanted to _grievously_ injure or _kill_ the man!

_Fuck, fuck, _fuck_!_

As he paced the hall outside Steve's room, Tony frantically though about what he would say to the man – what _could_ he say? "Sorry I bailed on my job and got you shot and nearly killed, man; my bad. Schwarma?" That just wouldn't cut it.

X

Steve grit his teeth as he shifted in the large, soft bed.

Being in the medical floor of Avengers' Tower had its perks.

He'd been listening to Stark pace for about an hour now. Every so often, he could hear the man cursing himself. Sometimes it was amusing, but then Steve felt bad that Tony was beating himself up over it.

Finally, he'd had enough of the idiot's murmuring and called for him to come in.

Stark opened the door enough to pop his head through and offer a very strained grin.

"Heya, Cap." Steve just watched calmly as the man inched inside and closed the door before making his way to the visitors' chair by the bed.

"Stark," he began, wincing a little as he moved slightly. "I should be pissed at you –"

"I know," came the uncharacteristically soft interruption.

"What?"

"You have every reason to… I mean I… I should have been there and… I wasn't. I fucked up. I really fucking fucked up."

The barely concealed pain in Tony's voice – in his expression – made Steve's heart skip a beat; made his chest ache from something more than a bullet.

"Stark… Cram it." He offered a weak smile. "You ignored direct orders and you bailed on your _own_ combat strategy. I don't know what you were thinking. You could have jeopardised the whole mission. I _should_ be angry…" he saw tears well up in the billionaire's eyes as the focused on his knees. "But I'm not. I was – don't get me wrong. But now, I'm just… sore." He offered another tired smile. "Fury probably won't be as forgiving, though." They both chuckled, feeling some of the tension melt away.

"I'm sorry, Cap." It was short, simple and sincere. Very unlike Tony Stark.

Steve watched as the man stared at his knees once more, lost in thought. He watched the tears build up in his eyes before his face took on an angry glaze.

X

Tony felt the tears burning his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He didn't deserve forgiveness! _Fucking Captain America. Fucking goody-two-shoes idiot! How could he forgive me!_

Suddenly, Tony was angry. Beyond angry. The douchebag was injured because of him and he was taking the road of forgiveness?

"What're you trying to prove? Yeah, we all know you're Captain Good Guy; fucking Mr Wonderful. I nearly got you fucking killed! You almost died because of me, you stupid prick!" At some point, Tony had stood up in his anger, glaring down at the man on the bed. Rogers just watched him silently. He didn't offer an explanation, he just watched.

They watched each other for a long moment before Tony felt warmth encircling his hand. He looked down to see Steve's hand wrapped loosely around his fingers, offering silent support; a gesture of comfort or good will or… some stupid bullshit he didn't deserve.

Yanking his hand away, Tony fled the room.

X

The anger and self-loathing in Tony's voice saddened Steve. All of the vulnerability the billionaire usually kept hidden was bared in only a few minutes.

Steve knew Tony shouldn't have abandoned his post, but it wasn't his fault that he'd been shot. It was an unfortunate accident – though deliberate on the enemy's part. But there was no telling if Steve wouldn't have been shot if Tony was there anyway. He was alive and that was all that mattered. He sent a quick prayer of thanks to God before falling asleep.

XX

Two days later, Steve was allowed to walk around. The doctor made sure he kept his arm steady in a sling before letting him wander the halls.

Over the last few days, the Avengers had all paid him short visits between missions and other duties. Even Fury and Hill came in once.

Yet, the one he wanted to see most stayed away. Tony hadn't returned since his first visit.

"Jarvis?" Steve asked hesitantly, still unsure the AI would respond to him.

"Yes, sir?"

"Where is Stark?"

"Mr Stark is in his workshop, sir. Shall I ask him to see you?"

"No… I… I was just wondering. Thank you."

"Any time, Mr Rogers."

Sighing, Steve decided to go for a longer walk. He hated being cooped up in his room for so long. He wished he could spend a few hours in the gym.

X

"Sir," Jarvis intoned, waiting for Tony's response.

"Yeah?"

"Mr Rogers asked about your location."

"So?"

"I think he was concerned about you… you have been in your workshop for two days."

"I'm busy. Lots of stuff to do. What's your point?"

"I think Mr Rogers wants to see you, sir."

"Sorry, babe; busy." Tony fiddled with the latest little gadget for his suit; a flame thrower.

As he adjusted the power and heat settings on his new toy, Tony's mind wandered to a certain team leader.

Looking back, he knew he'd overreacted to Rogers' forgiveness. He really had no reason, or right, to take out his anger at himself on the man – especially since he'd been injured because of what Tony had done, or, rather, had _not_ done.

Squeezing his eyes closed in shame and frustration, Tony pushed himself from his workbench and headed for the door.

"Shall I ask Mr Rogers to meet you somewhere, sir?" Tony thought he could hear a hint of smugness in his AI's voice.

"In my office, please."

"Yes, sir."

"And don't get too cocky."

"Of course not, sir." Tony just rolled his eyes, amused at his computer's ability to use such human expressions.

X

"Mr Rogers," Jarvis startled Steve as he walked down the corridor to his hospital room.

"Yes?" He looked up at the ceiling, feeling a little silly.

"Mr Stark would like to see you in his office, sir."

"Uh… sure." He turned around and made his way to the elevator.

XX

When Steve arrived at Starks office, he found it empty. Sighing, he asked Jarvis where the jerk was.

"He is on his way, sir. His workshop is considerably further away than the medical floor."

"Right… so, uh… should I just sit down?"

"Mr Stark says to make yourself comfortable, sir."

"Thank you."

X

Tony tried to prepare himself for his meeting with the Captain.

"Jarvis," he squeezed his eyes closed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Sir?"

"What is the best thing to say in this situation?"

"I don't know, sir. Would you like me too Google it?"

"No, no… shit. Do you think he'd mind if I just… didn't show up?"

"Probably."

"Ugh… I suck."

"I have no response, sir." This time, Tony _knew_ he could hear Jarvis teasing him.

"Shut up, Jarv."

"Of course, sir." Tony just rolled his eyes.

He finally arrived at his office, only to see Rogers standing by the window, watching the city below.

"This is a great view, Stark," he said without turning around.

"Yep. It's a shame I usually avoid this room. It normally means I have to work," he smirked, coming to stand next to the hero.

They stood in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, watching the busy city below.

Tony had no idea how to begin. He wasn't one to apologise… but this time, he knew he had to. But, just as he opened his mouth, Steve cut him off.

"It's okay, Tony," he said evenly, almost gently. "You screwed up. But it's not your fault I was shot." Tony had no idea what to say to that. Of _course_ it was his fault! He'd left his position and had made the Captain vulnerable to attack. If he'd done his job correctly, none of it would have happened!

"Cap… you were shot because I wasn't there."

"What? You mean you were going to protect me?" Tony heard amusement in the other man's voice. "Son, I've been in situations just like that, many times. You weren't even born when I was doing all that. I can take care of myself. I got shot because I wasn't looking and the guy took advantage of an opportunity. That's how it is in a war." He turned to look at Tony, putting his good hand on his shoulder. "This isn't your fault."

Tony was, for once, speechless. He still couldn't forgive himself, but Rogers' words had given him a little relief.

He blinked back tears, refusing to wuss-up in front of Captain America… again.

Finally, after a long moment, he found his voice.

"Schwarma?"

Laughing, they both left the office.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Over the next few days, Steve made a full recovery and was back to pumping iron and punching the sand out of punching bags. He invited Tony to work out with him and spar a little, only to have his invitations declined.

Until, one day, he was pleasantly surprised when Tony accepted.

"Take it easy on me, Pretty Boy," he joked, but all Steve could hear was the slightly defensive tone in the engineer's voice. Natasha's words came back to float around his head, reminding him of how insecure Tony felt about his physical abilities.

"Stark," he began, wrapping his wrists and hands.

"Yeah?" he looked up from doing the same.

"Before I became Captain America," he hesitated, opting to sit next to his colleague. "Before the Serum, do you know how much I could bench?" he gave a small smile. Tony looked suspicious and defensive, even as he shook his head. Steve continued, "I could barely lift ten pounds," he said, all seriousness. Tony looked incredulous.

"You expect me to believe you were that… _pathetic_?" he raised his eyebrows disbelievingly. Steve frowned slightly.

"Well… 'pathetic' is a little harsh… but, yeah." He felt his cheeks flush slightly. "There are probably files with photos of me… before." He rubbed the back of his neck, not entirely comfortable with divulging that information.

Tony, however, looked a little _too_ happy to hear that information.

"Jarvis," he sounded almost giddy, "locate any photos of Steve Rogers before the Serum."

"Yes, sir. They're available on your tablet."

Tony took the tablet from his gym back at his feet, and flipped through the pictures of Steve as his 'regular' self. While he did this, Steve focused on wrapping his hands correctly. Tony was chuckling at his embarrassing little secret.

"Wow, Cap." Tony turned to look at Steve, grinning.

"So… you see? I wasn't always… _this_," he made himself meet Tony's gaze. "I know what it's like to measure myself against others' standards… and find myself wanting."

"What… what're you implying?" Tony sounded even more defensive now, but Steve pushed through, knowing it was something the shorter man needed to hear.

"I… know you feel that you're physically weaker –"

"What?" Now there was heat in Tony's voice. He was getting angry.

"Natasha said –"

"Oh. I see. Then of course, I must be _exactly_ how she described! Poor little Stark! He can't compete with the rest of the Avengers without his suit! He's too pathetic to compare to the _others_!" He stood abruptly, meaning to storm out, but Steve grabbed his hand, nearly equally pissed.

"Stop it! That's not what I meant! I wasn't comparing you with us, Stark! I was _trying_ to show you that you've got nothing to worry about! You deserve to be called an Avenger just as much as any of us!" He tightened his grip, refusing to let the man go.

"I've never –"

"Bullshit." Steve smiled at Tony's shocked face. "You heard me, Stark. I call bullshit."

X

At Rogers' words, Tony found himself chuckling. He'd never heard the angel-faced dork curse before. He kind of liked it.

"Rogers, you're full of surprises," he conceded, allowing himself to be pulled back to the ring.

"Yeah, well…" the blond shrugged, his gently smile still in place. Tony realised how much he liked that smile.

XX

Later that day, as Tony was lounging in the rec room, Fury called in.

"Heya, Nick," he greeted, enjoying the face the director pulled.

"Stark, you're suspended."

"Aw, come on! It's your name!" He grinned. Fury sighed, closing his eye for a moment.

"No, Stark. You're suspended." He waited for his words to sink into Tony's head.

"Well… that was direct."

"I've been in a _very_ long meeting with the Council… and they've come to the decision that you're to be suspended from the Avengers Initiative."

Tony's face went blank as he processed the information, sitting before the large screen displaying Fury's face.

"I suppose that's it, then. Thanks for calling, Nick," he gave a grin and went to disconnect the call.

"Whoa – hold on, Stark. You don't think that's it, do you? You have some serious explaining to do!" The frown on the director's face was probably the most frowny Tony had ever seen. _He must be pissed_, he though.

"About what?"

"What happened in Afghanistan? When we did a sweep of the town, we found two dead guys in a building, which wasn't so bad, but because you wasted time up there, blowing their brains out, you abandoned your post – where you were _needed_ – and jeopardised the mission!

"Rogers was shot and almost died –"

"I know!" Tony yelled, cutting the man off. "I fucking _know_, Fury! You don't think I feel bad enough about what happened? I made a fucking _mistake_!"

Fury looked unimpressed.

"You more than made a mistake, Stark. It could have had serious consequences. You're lucky you're only being suspended. The damage you caused to the rest of the troupes there… you crushed a man's _skull_ into the ground and totalled a few _tanks_. I thought I told you to take some alive?" Tony had no reply to that. "You're on a four-week suspension with no pay and no access to our intelligence. At the end of this period, you will be on an eighteen-month probation, during which, you will be on your _best_ behaviour. If you put a _toe_ out of line, you will be stripped of your title as an Avenger and SHIELD will confiscate all Iron Man tech."

"What! No! You have no –"

"I have _every_ right, Stark. If you fuck up again, you will have no association with Iron Man or the Avengers Initiative. Got it?" And, without waiting for a reply, Fury terminated the connection.

"_Fuck!_" Tony yelled, nearly screamed, smashing the tumbler he'd been holding against the wall.

X

Steve hummed a cheerful tune as he entered the rec room, home-made lasagne in one hand, a cold beer in the other. As he approached the sofa, however, the distinct smell of scotch hit him. As he rounded the furniture, he discovered a very drunk, very angry Tony Stark grumbling to himself as he fiddled with one of his tablets.

"Stark, are you okay?" No reply. "Stark?" he spoke a little louder; still no reply.

Steve watched the genius for a moment before sighing and placing his dinner on the coffee table and bodily picking the other man up, flopping him over his shoulder.

"Hey! What the _hell!_"

"This is for your own good, Tony," he said grimly, heading for his own room.

Steve wasn't allowed in Tony's room, and he only knew where his own was, anyway, so it would have to do.

He took Tony's tablet from him (earning a colourful string of insults) and chucked it on his bed as he walked past.

"Seriously, Captain Asshat, put me the fuck down!"

"I will," he replied, suppressing his amusement… for the moment.

He gently set Tony down on the floor of his shower and propped him against the wall.

"What the –" Steve cut him off with a blast of icy water from the hose-like showerhead. "The _fuck!_" he screamed, making Steve smirk.

"Is your head a little clearer?" he asked, pausing the stream of cold water.

"Fuck you –" Steve turned the hose on, completely cutting Tony off again.

"Tony, I'm going to let you up now… do you need my help?" He returned the showerhead to its place and offered a hand to the slightly shivering man on the floor.

Stark glared up at Steve, most likely only taking his hand to get it out of his face.

"You completely ruined my buzz," he grouched.

"I thought the point of a 'buzz' was to make you feel better?" Steve hauled Tony up, putting one arm around the smaller man's waist and dragged one of Tony's over his shoulders. "Besides," he added, turning to face the drunk, "you are _way_ past 'buzzed'." With that, he sat the other on the foot of his bed and stripped him of his wet clothes.

"Jeez, Cap, way to make a girl feel special," the sass was ruined by a large yawn.

"Tony, shut your trap. I'm making sure you don't get sick." Steve looked up to frown at the engineer, only to find that he'd already fallen asleep. Sighing, he continued to take the wet clothes from his host and replaced them with a set of his own pyjamas.

He did his best to give Tony some privacy when removing his underwear…

XX

The next morning, Steve made a large, greasy English breakfast. He piled bacon, sausages and eggs onto a plate and brought it into his room for Tony. He also brought a couple of pain killers, orange juice and coffee.

"Morning, sunshine," he greeted, not bothering to hide his grin of amusement. Tony groaned and delved under the pillows, flipping off the hero. "Come on, I made breakfast," Steve's grin widened as Tony sat up at the mention of food.

"What the _hell_ happened?" he asked around a mouthful of eggs. "Why am I in your pyjamas?" Steve just winked, replacing his cheeky grin with a self-satisfied smirk, not giving anything away. Stark's mouth went slack.

X

Tony fought through the hangover and tried to focus on what the blond meant. The no-nonsense, straight-laced, All-America Boy had just _winked_ at him. What did that _mean_?

_Did we… no. He's not that kind of guy… but winking usually indicates some kind of joke or flirtatious intention… or fuck. I don't know!_

"So… what happened?" He asked in as nonchalant a tone as he could muster. However, he mustn't have sounded as smooth and uncaring as he'd hoped, because the other man just laughed.

"You were… really drunk," he said. "I found you in the rec room muttering to yourself, so I carried you up here and gave you a cold shower. You passed out while I was… uh… changing your clothes," at this, he flushed, rubbing his neck.

"I see." Tony made a mental note to check the footage later.

"Your virtue is intact, Stark," Steve said dryly.

"Your loss, princess," he grinned around a mouthful of bacon and eggs as the captain rolled his eyes and left. _Phew. Ego intact,_ he thought, regaining some confidence.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Tony brought the plate from breakfast down to the kitchen, contemplating the morning's… _happenings_.

When he'd thought he'd had a drunken 'close encounter' with Rogers, he'd frozen in a brief moment of panic. But now, after having some time to think about it… he really didn't see what he'd been worried about. Spangles was, a) a straight, macho 'good guy' and b) not unattractive. Tony had no issues about gender or labels; he could appreciate an attractive man or woman. If it felt good, he had no reservations about it. But he knew not everyone was as open-minded as he was when it came to sex.

As he washed his plate, he allowed his mind to wander. He rolled the idea of starting a casual relationship with Steve around his head; not that the jerk would ever go for it, but he could fantasise, right?

"Sir, I think your plate is clean," Jarvis deadpanned, jolting him out of his torrid little fantasy. "Is there something on your mind?"

"No, no… just… uh… spaced out." He placed the sparkling clean plate on the rack to dry, only realising after that he could have simply put it in the dishwasher. Sighing, he made his way to his own room for a _real_ shower and his own clothes.

X

Spending a few hours in the gym helped Steve feel a little better about the world. He found that the monotonous actions of lifting weights, skipping and punching the bags gave him time to think about things.

He contemplated where his life was heading as he worked his biceps and chest, benching five-hundred pounds – an amount that still made him wonder at the power of the Serum.

He knew he was doing good for the world; he knew he saved lives and fought bad guys… but he couldn't help but feel that something was missing. He wanted _more_ from life than just fighting the good fight. And he knew exactly what he wanted; what he'd always wanted; _love_. He remembered Peggy and how she made him feel; he wanted that again.

By the time he'd moved to pressing weights with his legs, Steve was thinking about a certain billionaire. Stark, somehow, made him feel the way he did with Peggy… but even more so. The jerk pissed him off and pushed all of his buttons… but that was just it; he pushed _all_ of his buttons.

He hadn't liked Stark, at first. He'd thought him to be a spoilt rich kid who used his money and his father's name to get what he wanted. But he'd been wrong. Tony had proven that he was more than just a spoilt rich boy; he was a _smart_, spoilt rich boy with daddy issues, low self-esteem and alcohol problems.

And Steve liked it all.

He _liked_ that Tony could never take anything _too_ seriously. He _liked_ that he had the stones to tell Fury where to stick it. And he liked that, under all the posturing, peacocking and ego-stroking, Tony had a heart of gold and would do anything to protect the ones he loved.

As he towelled off, Steve admitted to himself that he rather liked Tony Stark. He just didn't know what to do about it.

X

The lovely hot water pelted down on Tony's back, washing the stale sweat away. As he washed his hair and scrubbed himself with some spicy-smelling wash, he allowed his mind to wander back to his fantasies about Steve.

He'd always hated the guy's perfect hair and blue eyes, and his stupidly straight, white teeth and pouty lips… and his ridiculously ripped body. He'd always seen him as the embodiment of everything he hated; blind, right-winged American patriotism, goody-two-shoes, rose-coloured view of _everything_, sexually repressed douchiness and the self-righteous, mightier-than-thou morals – all topped off with a classically handsome blond-haired, blue-eyed muscle-head.

He'd hated the alpha-male morons in high school, in his higher education and his business life. But… he'd come to see that Steve was none of these. Well, not anymore. He was patriotic, yes, but he wasn't blind to his nation's faults. He wasn't always an Aryan alpha male; Tony actually found Steve's old photos kind of cute. And, well… as far as the sexual repression, Tony was pretty sure that Steve was straight. And a virgin.

He was still a goody-two-shoes as well, but he had his devious moments. Tony liked it when Steve showed his sense of humour. The dorky bastard was growing on Tony.

He found himself thinking of all the despicable, dirty things he could teach the guy; he wanted to corrupt the innocent little capsicle.

Chuckling, Tony turned off the water and emerged feeling much better than before. Just thinking about the kid made him feel better. _Well, I guess he's _technically_ an old man…_ he shrugged, making his way to get dressed.

XX

For several hours, Tony locked himself away in his workshop, completely absorbed in developing and upgrading his new suit. He was now up to Mark VIII; a slimmer version of his Mark VII, and not as clunky. He'd added his new mini flame-thrower to the left wrist and had increased the power of his repulsors by three per cent – almost enough to turn whatever he was blasting into ash. Almost.

He hummed to himself as he tightened a few screws and tweaked a few wires. He'd also decided to add an emergency parachute release in the back of the Mark VIII, in case he ever found himself falling out of the sky again – which was likely, because he was known to take it out for a drunken spin every so often.

The only break he'd allowed himself was to go to the bathroom. Then, it was straight back to work. He wanted to take it out for a test run that evening.

Unfortunately, however, it was not to be. He had an unexpected guest turn up at around four o'clock that afternoon.

"Bruce!" he was ecstatic to see his brother in science. The mild-mannered nerd had been travelling America for the past few days, helping SHIELD in some kind of classified mission.

"Hi, Tony," he smiled, returning the welcome hug.

"It's good to see you! How was your mission?" he wiggled his eyebrows and pseudo-whispered, "Get some?" He received a deadpan look for his efforts.

"I was containing a few… illegal experiments. A few amateur scientists decided to try and replicate my… uh, alter ego… on animals."

"Big Green Rage Dogs?"

"Something like that."

"Why didn't _I_ think of that!" he joked. At Bruce's look, he let out a low whistle. "How were they progressing? Did they manage – "

"Tony!" he sounded miffed. "They were _amateurs_. Their lab was… well, it was a basement. But they had the right stuff. I have no idea how they got their hands on any of it, but they had some dangerous equipment. Not to mention the chemicals they were using." He groaned, rubbing his eyes, obviously tired. "They could have wiped out their whole town."

"Well… shit." He was at a loss. "What happened to them?"

"That part is classified. Fury wouldn't let me leave until I swore an oath and signed a contract. They, uh… took care of it." Bruce sounded more and more tired as he spoke. Tony was surprised he'd told him as much as he had.

"You want food?" he asked, heading out of his workshop with the doctor.

"Bed," he grunted.

"Cool. Well, you know where your room is," he walked a little further with the tired man.

"Thanks," Bruce wandered forward a little before pausing. "Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't tell anyone I told you that."

"Cross my arc," he smiled. Bruce rolled his eyes and went to bed.

As Banner left, Tony had something to think about. _How did basement-dwelling geeks get their hands on that kind of equipment?_ He frowned, deciding to wander off to the gym.

X

Steve was now comfortable enough to admit to himself that he liked Tony; however, he still had no idea how to approach it, and he was uncertain as to what this meant in the grand scheme of things. _Does this make me a nancy?_ He frowned, not liking the way that sounded, even in his own head. _Do I find other men attractive?_ He thought about all the men he knew, turning the idea around in his mind.

The other Avengers were fit and strong, but… Steve just wasn't attracted to them. Fury was… a no-go zone.

He thought back to the war, before and after the Serum and analysed his feelings towards the guys.

He'd always wanted to go steady with a nice girl and hopefully, someday, marry her. He'd hoped Peggy would be that girl, but, obviously, that was no longer an option.

Steve thought back to Bucky, how he would always envy his body and watch as he worked out. He remembered the jealousy, but he also remembered admiration. He admired his friend for not only helping in the war effort, but he appreciated him as a person. He'd always hoped to find a woman just like him.

And so, his thoughts circled. He'd wanted a woman… a woman just like Bucky. But _did_ he want a woman? Or did he just think he _had _to want a woman? Had he realised he'd even had the option? _Of course not,_ he scoffed. _It was bad enough that I was small. If I'd started looking at the other guys, I'd have been in even more trouble._

He wished he had someone to talk to about this kind of thing, but he wasn't sure how… _accepted_ this, the idea of two men, was. He guessed he should look into it a little more… but _how_?

So far, he'd been educating himself with the use of documentaries on DVDs. He didn't think something like this would be so readily available, though.

He felt completely lost.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

As Tony rounded the corner to the gym, he ran face-first into Rogers.

"Oh, sorry, Tony," the captain sounded distracted, as he meandered around the corner and down the hall. Shrugging it off, Tony strutted into the gym, intent on pumping some iron.

XX

Later, as Tony headed to the kitchen, he passed Steve's office, noticing the blond hunched over the screen… which looked suspiciously like it was showing a Wikipedia page. Curiosity peaked, Tony crept in and silently read over the captain's shoulder.

Upon reading the heading, his eyes bulged and his lips automatically formed an amused smirk.

"_What_ are you doing?" he asked, making sure to lean close to Rogers' ear.

The hero nearly fell out of his chair, grabbing the desk to keep himself upright.

"Stark!" he sounded… frustrated. Tony just laughed as he dodged a fist. "I'm researching," he said, sounding a little flustered.

"Really?" _This is going to be interesting…_

"Yes."

"Why are you researching homosexuality in the twenty-first century?"

There was an awkward pause; Steve twiddled his thumbs and stared at the desk.

"Cap, is this you coming out?" Tony raised an eyebrow and folded his arms over his chest.

"What does that mean?"

"Are you telling me you're gay?"

"I… don't feel gay right now," he frowned in confusion. Tony sighed impatiently.

"I _mean_, Captain Oblivious, 'are you telling me you're attracted to men'?"

"Oh!" he flushed; the pink hue visible in the dim light of the data screen and Tony's arc reactor. "No, no. I just… saw something in the park."

"Something?" _This sounds made-up_.

"Two men…" he looked even more uncomfortable.

"I see." Tony nodded, clapped the blond on the shoulder and walked out again.

"Sir," Jarvis asked as Tony made a sandwich.

"Hm?"

"You know that the increased heart-rate and lack of eye-contact suggests Captain Rogers was –"

"Lying? I know, Jarvis."

"He may need someone to talk to, sir."

"About what?"

"About his 'research', sir." The AI sounded a little… impatient.

"That has nothing to do with me," he snapped. "It's his own business."

"Sir, I believe you would be the most understanding –"

"Stop it, Jarvis."

Tony knew his computer was right. He knew how hard it was to be different. But Steve needed to figure himself out. _That, and you're a big, fat pussy, Stark_, he argued with himself. He scowled, sitting down to eat his sandwich.

"Sir, Agent Romanov is here to see you." Jarvis' tone was indifferent and robotic. If Tony didn't know any better, he'd think that he'd hurt the computer's feelings.

"Thanks, Jarv."

"That's what I'm here for, sir," came a somewhat snarky reply. Tony huffed.

"Okay, I'm sorry. But Steve's shit is his, not mine. His problems are none of my business."

"Of course not, sir."

"Don't. Just don't." He felt… guilty. He didn't know why, but he did. _Maybe it's because you're ignoring someone else's pain… as usual_, his nasty little conscience spoke up.

Tony sighed heavily, abandoning his sandwich and making his way to the debriefing room.

X

"Sir, Agent Romanov is here to see you."

"Thanks, Jarvis."

Steve had just had a much needed shower; he'd been too flustered by Tony to continue with his research. And there was nothing like a nice, hot shower after a good long gym session.

"Where am I meeting her?"

"In the debriefing room on Level Two, sir." Steve nodded and made his way to the meeting with Natasha. He hoped it was a long mission; he needed a distraction from Tony.

X

Tony made it to the debriefing room the same time as Rogers. The pretty sonofabitch smelled like soap and cologne. _Gorgeous bastard_, he thought, pushing his way into the room.

"Stark, Rogers; nice of you to join us," Fury sounded as annoyed as usual. His face was projected on the giant data screen behind the head of the boardroom table. "Romanov has a mission –"

"Whoa, wait. I thought I was suspended? Aren't I unreliable?" Tony crossed his arms and glared at Fury.

"Unfortunately, due to the nature of this mission," he looked sour, as though it pained him to say the next few words, "we need you."

"_Really_?" Tony raised his eyebrows. "_You_… need _me_? For a _mission_?" He grinned, placing his hands on his hips. "Fancy that!" Fury glared at him, even more unimpressed than he usually was.

"Don't get cute, Stark. This is a one-time exception. Get in, get out, and go back to your suspension."

"So I'm an outside party called in as a consultation?" he niggled, giving a devious smirk. Fury ignored him.

"Romanov has the mission information for you. She'll take over from here." Fury disconnected with a frown to end all frowns, making Tony grin.

"You were suspended?" Steve frowned. Tony ignored him and turned to Romanov.

"What's the mission?" he rubbed his hands together excitedly, taking a seat.

"In… Florida," she stated, sounding slightly disdainful. "There have been rumours of a new Iron Man. There have been reports of a UFO… and it, or they, have appeared three times so far; all at night."

"Someone is trying to imitate Stark's suit?" Steve dove right in.

"Yes. We think these people are trying to create and possibly weaponise their own Iron Man suit."

"But what if it's nothing? Didn't SHIELD check it out?" Steve asked.

"Of course we have; but we haven't been able to find a trace. That's why we need you, Stark," she turned to him. "You know the tech and you know how to identify and trace it. You're our best bet for now."

Tony looked through the file briefly, thinking over all the possibilities and outcomes. He thought about all the variables before answering.

"I know my _own_ tech. These guys would have something different. There's no way they got hold of my files."

"You're the only authority we have on this kind of thing, Stark."

"So why do I need you and Spangles, Charlotte?"

"We're your backup… Wilbur." She sounded amused at his little joke.

"Right. But… Florida? Are you sure?"

"We leave at oh-five-hundred," she said as a reply and slid two folders over to them. "These contain what information we have so far. Enjoy, gentlemen." With that, she headed out the door.

X

Steve stalked back to his room, folder in-hand, nearly being crushed in his grip. He'd had no idea that Tony had been suspended! He looked over his shoulder to see Stark was just behind him.

"When did that happen?" He asked.

"Hm?" Tony looked up from his copy of the file.

"When were you suspended?" He was angry… indignant, even. How could they? This was _his_ team, damnit!

"Last night," Tony replied casually. "It didn't last long, though!" he smiled.

"That explains –" he cut himself off, not wanting to embarrass the other man.

"He's still going to be suspended, sir," Jarvis cut in helpfully. Tony scowled.

"Shut up, Jarvis."

"Why were you suspended?"

"Because I'm reckless and unreliable… and I don't play well with others." His tone was becoming less genial.

Steve wanted to ask Tony about the previous night. He wanted to argue with Fury about his decision… but he knew neither would get very far. Instead, he wished Tony good night and retreated to his room.

XX

The next morning, Steve woke at four o'clock, intending to make everyone a good breakfast before heading out. As he was scrambling the eggs, he was pleasantly surprised by Dr Banner.

"Good morning," he greeted as the other man shambled over to the coffee pot.

"Morning," the doctor yawned.

"When did you get back?"

"Last night." Steve was beginning to sense that Banner wasn't in a talking mood.

"Breakfast?"

"Please."

The two ate in silence, enjoying the meal, until Tony came stumbling in at four-thirty.

"Why do we have to be up this early?" he grumbled, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "Can't evil _wait_?"

"I made us eggs," Steve tried to console.

"Bacon?"

"On your plate," he nodded to the still-steaming plate on the counter.

"Thanks, Capsicle." Steve frowned at the nickname, but let it go. He wasn't in the mood to argue with Tony; it was too early.

X

As he shovelled the delicious food into his mouth, Tony contemplated what Jarvis had said the night before. It was true; he probably understood Rogers' dilemma more than the others… but he didn't want to push or pry… Like he'd said; Steve's issues were his own and Tony wasn't going to butt in. He was unpleasantly distracted from his thoughts, however, when Spider Lady walked in.

"Why are you still eating?" Romanov's voice rang out in the kitchen, sounding a little pissed. "We're leaving in ten minutes! Unless you're planning on fighting in your pyjamas, I suggest you move your arse, Stark," she snapped, noticing the empty coffee pot. "You couldn't leave me a cup?" she asked, frowning more.

"In the microwave," said Steve, grinning. Tony knew the guy liked having one-up on the super spy, even if it was only coffee. It was kind of cute. _Stop it!_ Romanov brightened at the prospect of coffee, a pleased hum indicating her thanks.

X

They all left at five past five, thanks to Tony having to run back to his penthouse to get dressed and run back. Natasha was not impressed.

"We're fashionably –" he was cut off by her fist connecting with his nose. "Ow," he brought his hand up to check for blood, trying to blink away the pain. Steve thought it was the funniest thing in the world and laughed, earning a grin from Natasha and a finger from Stark.

They waved goodbye to Banner as their chopper whisked them away to the Helicarrier.

X

Tony rubbed his sore nose, scowling. _That was completely unnecessary, _he thought.

"You deserved it, Tony," Steve came to sit next to him.

"It was five minutes!" he groused.

"It's a _mission_," Spangles sounded amused, yet exasperated. "You know what you're doing right? Can your suit –"

"_Fuck!_" Tony just remembered. _Oh, shit._

"What?" Cap sounded weary.

"My suit. It's… in the tow –" this time, it was Steve's fist cutting him off.

"Stark!" He looked pissed. "Turn the chopper around! We have to go back!" he called into the headset.

"Why?" Romanov looked furious. Tony winced. _My face can't take it!_

"I… forgot my suit," he cringed at the look on her face. _Yeah, my bad…_ he didn't dare say it aloud.

"Oh, thank _fuck!_" he cried, seeing Bruce with his Mark VIII.

"Jarvis told me you forgot it. He said this was the one with the most upgrades."

"You're a lifesaver!" Tony grinned, punching Bruce's shoulder. "I could kiss you right on the mouth!"

"Please don't," he laughed.

Tony grabbed the compact suit and headed for the chopper. They _officially_ left at six-fifteen.

XXX

_AN: This will be the last chapter until after Christmas, dears._

_Have a lovely holiday!_


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

After the initial hiccup, they finally managed to make it to the helicarrier; over an hour late.

"Stark!" Fury was… well, furious.

"Yeah?" He was safely inside his suit, now. If Cyclops wanted to punch him, he'd have to wait.

"Thanks to _you_, we're over an _hour_ behind schedule! What. The. _Fuck?_" Tony decided to… well, it didn't matter. The vein on the Director's forehead looked like it would burst at any moment, no matter what.

"What can I say, Nick? I'm unreliable."

The look of rage on Fury's face would have been priceless if it had been directed at anyone else. _Hell, in for a penny, in for a pound_… Tony chuckled. He refused to regret it. Ever.

"What did you expect from me?" He didn't sound bitter; not at all. Fury narrowed his eyes and walked away. Tony knew this would come back to bite him in the arse.

X

Steve watched as Fury stormed away. He had to admit… it was kind of amusing to see the guy so angry. But he could understand; Tony was hard to deal with, especially when he decided to _be_ hard to deal with. He strode over and put a hand on the shoulder of the Iron Man suit.

"Everything okay, Tony?" he had a feeling the genius was taking it hard.

"Peachy, Cap," he sounded terse.

"Wanna talk about it?" He knew he'd said the wrong thing when Tony turned around, visor retracting.

"Last time I checked, I hadn't grown a vagina; so _no_." Then, he walked away, presumably to the lab.

Steve went to his own quarters, feeling a little miffed. He'd only tried to be _nice_, for goodness' sake! Heaving a sigh, he decided he'd read until they arrived.

X

Tony escaped to the helicarrier's lab. His face ached and his ego was bruised. He would probably come to regret pissing off Fury, but at that point, he couldn't care less. _God, I need a drink!_

He found something to tinker with for a while, before he became bored. He also really needed to go to the bathroom, and get out of his suit. It wasn't really practical to wear it indoors. _But my face! I can't take another punch today!_

In the end, his bladder won, urging him to retreat to his own quarters and remove the suit.

As he passed Steve's room, Tony's mind began to wander back to the previous night once more. _It's none of my business. I wouldn't be much help anyway._

He knew he'd blow it one way or another. He _knew_ he was emotionally challenged… stunted… whatever. _Aren't most geniuses?_

He refused to think about Steve's problems; rather, he turned his mind to what could happen _after_ he'd come to terms with being gay.

As he peed, he became lost in his sordid little thoughts about seducing Captain America in every room of Avengers Tower.

Unfortunately, just as he finished in the bathroom, his fantasies were rudely interrupted.

"Stark! Time to go!" Fury's voice sounded over the intercom.

Groaning, he donned the red and gold once more.

XX

"I'm picking up faint traces of energy, sir," Jarvis informed. "It seems to be coming from the south."

"Thanks, Jarv."

Tony flew over the suburban neighbourhood, looking for the source of the electromagnetic field. He cringed at the identical houses with identical lawns. The thought of living in a tiny cookie-cutter house scared him. He had no idea how people could be so content with such mundane lives.

"You got anything, Stark?" Romanov's voice came in over the mic.

"Negative. Tracing a faint EMF, but coming up – hold on. I got something." He glided down to one of the cookie-cutter nightmares and watched as a clumsy imitation of his suit lit up. "Sonofa – "

"Stark?"

"Found it. Number…"

"Fourteen-fifty, sir," Jarvis supplied.

"Fourteen-fifty," he repeated.

"Which street?"

"How should I know? The one I'm hovering over!" With that, he landed before the clunky abomination and punched the helmet in.

"Ow! Hey!" a pissed-off voice sounded from inside. "What the – oh."

"Oh," Tony agreed. "Wanna tell me why you're building my suit?"

"Uh…" the wannabe took off his helmet, revealing a very young, very dorky man. "Mr Stark?" he asked, sounding awestruck.

"Yeah."

"Will you sign my helmet?" he thrust the metal bucket-looking thing at him.

"Get over here," Tony grumbled and took hold of the guy's wrist.

"Hey! What're you – " and Tony blasted off, carrying the dweeb with him.

"You're in some serious crap, kid."

"Stark!" Fury sounded less annoyed upon Tony's arrival.

"Whoa! Director Fury?" The kid looked as though Christmas had come early.

"How the _hell_ does he know my name?" Tony shrugged the best he could in his suit.

"Will you sign my suit? I don't have anything else with me." Fury looked incredulous. Usually, Tony would find this amusing, but the nerd obviously had some classified information.

"Son, do you understand the level of shit you're in?" The Director asked. "You're being detained by SHIELD under suspicion of – "

"Cool!" Tony didn't know whether to laugh or cry… or smack the idiot upside the head.

"I'm gonna… go do something else," he said, not wanting to deal with the sheer lunacy of the situation.

"Oh, no you don't! You're sweeping this guy's house with Rogers and Romanov. We need to see who he's working with and what he knows." With that, he hauled the not-so-super-villain away. Grumbling, Tony took off once more, hoping the day would end soon.

X

"Alright; Widow, you take upstairs; Tony, you take this floor and I'll take the basement, the garage, and the garden shed." Steve gave his team their directions, feeling a little silly. They were searching someone's private home, not a bad guy's hideout or evil organisation's camp or abandoned warehouses or mine shafts. It all felt a little… lame.

"No problem, Cap. Let me know if you need tech support," Tony smirked and started his sweep. Natasha nodded and went upstairs. Steve was left alone to rummage through someone's house.

About an hour later, Natasha radioed through that there was nothing upstairs, but she'd check the attic just in case.

"Okay. Good work. I'm heading to the back yard now," he replied.

"Nothing on ground level," said Tony.

"Alright. Head back to the carrier and give Fury the details so far. I'll update when I get back… or if I find something." With that, he took off to the yard, and did a general sweep of the neat little lawn.

When he opened the door to the garden shed, however, he was slightly disappointed. It looked just like any other shed; tools lined neatly along the wall, a metal trash can that held a rake, a hoe, a leaf blower and hedge trimmers. The back wall was lined with old plant pots and a push mower in front of a little door… _Wait. What?_ Curious, Steve went to investigate.

"I found something, guys," he radioed.

"What is it?" Widow asked.

"A little door in the back of the garden shed. I'm going in."

"I'll be down in a minute," she replied.

Steve pulled the door open to reveal a set of stairs leading down, below ground.

"There're stairs. I'm going down."

"Right behind you," Natasha's voice came from directly behind him, making him jump.

"Don't _do_ that!"

Together, they descended the stairwell, mindful that there could be more enemies lying in wait.

X

Tony heard the Captain's communication, but ignored it. Romanov was with him… and Tony didn't want to deal with people at that moment. The day had already been too long.

He reported to Fury about the house being clear and that Spider Lady and Capsicle were investigating a garden shed. The whole thing seemed so ridiculous. He wanted scotch and a cigar.

"Alright, Stark. Get some rest. We'll call you if we need your expertise," Fury dismissed him.

Making his way to his little room, Tony wished more than ever that he was back in Malibu, sipping scotch and playing with his toys.

A long shower later, Tony lay upon his bed, hoping to fall asleep… but failed.

He couldn't get Rogers out of his head. The guy was… well, a sweetheart. He was the complete opposite of Tony, but he found himself attracted to him anyway.

_Stop mooning over him!_ He told himself off, hoping to bully his mind away from the guy. _Sordid fantasies or nothing; no feelings,_ he tried to negotiate… well, he gave himself an ultimatum. If he was going to obsess over his team leader, he may as well do it the fun way. There was no hope for him in reality, so his imagination would have to do.

He imagined the most unlikely, but fun scenario, his favourite: walking in on Steve, in his office, jerking off to some porn on the computer.

He imagined himself silently opening the door, unheard over the porn, and Steve's heavy puffs as he stroked himself to the guys on the video.

He would stand there, watching the captain watching his new discovery. He would walk in, close the door behind him, announcing his presence, and make the innocent little soldier jump and blush and stutter.

He could just picture the look of horror on Steve's face as he walked into the room, smirking. The stuttering would die down before the blond fixed his gaze to the floor, hands hiding himself.

Tony saw himself walk over and remove the large hands before kneeling before his leader. No words would be needed; all he would do would be to take Captain America in his mouth and allow the blond to fuck his face… bury those big hands into his hair and drive Tony's mouth all the way down –

"Stark, report to the debriefing room; Rogers and Widow are back with their report."

_Well, fuck._

X

"There are periodic tables, news articles about the Avengers, posters of us… there are a lot of comic books…" Steve didn't want to mention the _magazines_ they'd found. "They have three computers, a few welding, smelting and forging tools, but nothing to the degree Tony has."

"They're not just geeks though; I mean… the suit that kid was in looked like it might actually hover," Tony said, sounding almost impressed.

"Their bas and resources are crude and rudimentary, but if something went wrong with their suit, it could have caused a lot of damage," said Natasha.

Steve waited for Fury to deliberate and make a decision. He could see the wheels turning in the director's head.

"How many do you think are in this?" He asked, sounding tired. Steve just shrugged.

"There's no way to tell," Natasha stated. "There could be one, or there could be ten. We have to interrogate the kid." Steve frowned at that. 'Interrogate' wasn't much better (or different) than 'torture' in his book. _He's just a kid!_ But, before he could say anything about it, Tony spoke up.

"Hey! Whoa! You're gonna 'interrogate' a kid? No offense, Spider Lady, but I don't think that's –"

"Can it, Stark. You're suspended, remember?" Fury cut in.

"You still need me to look through their data. So, until I've done that, I'm not suspended; I'm still a member of this team, so I suggest you listen to me!" Stark's voice held an angry edge. Steve couldn't blame him, though; he agreed with Tony.

"Watch it, Stark. You're a long way from being a real Avenger at this point."

"Well, fuck you very much, Nick," Tony said, face darkening. "I'm your 'best option', according to Romanov, so I'm actually _just_ as valuable –"

"You're _tech support_! You haven't _earned_ the _right_ to be called an Avenger!" That did it. Steve had to cut in.

"Fury, I have to agree with Stark. He _is_ our best bet at this point. He knows this stuff better than anyone. Maybe he can even get some answers out of the guy he found? The kid seemed like he was a fan, so maybe he'll talk to Tony?"

"Rogers, don't even try to defend him," Fury said calmly. "He's not a team player and he needs to realise he _isn't_ the only one with his skill set."

"Director, I know, but he's the _best_." He didn't know why it was important to defend Tony, but the words Fury had said… they were as far from the truth as possible. Tony Stark had every right to be called an Avenger; he was just as good as the rest of them.

"You have twenty-four hours, Stark. If you don't get the information from that idiot, I'm sending Romanov in."

Steve watched for Tony's reaction, but the playboy's face remained blank, even as he nodded his acknowledgement and walked away.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

Tony was… well, actually, he felt kinda numb. Fury made sense; Tony knew he wasn't anywhere near the elite standard of the rest of the team, but he was still their money, tech and friggin' _landlord._ He'd invested way too much in this initiative to back out now. So, he strutted into the interrogation room and plastered a grin on his face and turned up the charm.

"Hey, kid. We didn't really get to introduce ourselves properly. I'm Tony Stark," he held out his hand to the gawky guy.

"I know who you are, Mr Stark. You punched me in the face…" he sounded wary, but still awestruck._ Yeah, this is gonna be a piece of cake._

"What's your name? Unless it's kid… which sucks for you," he winked, hoping his 'Joe Everyman' appeal was working.

"Ha, nah. My name's Johnny, Johnny Goldstein."

"Awesome name! Anything with 'gold' in it is worth something', Johnny, and I know you're goin' places."

"Uh… thanks?" Johnny looked nervous and leant forward in his seat. "Um, Mr Stark?"

"Tony, please," he schmoozed.

"Mr Tony, what're they gonna do? I've never been arrested! And if my mom finds out, she'll kill me! They're not gonna tell her, are they?" _Well, that was unexpected, but totally priceless!_ Tony chuckled.

"Johnny, you know you're in deep, right? Like, _federal prison_ deep. Your mom has nothin' on SHIELD."

"Wanna bet?" he murmured.

"Listen, you need to tell me why and how you were building my tech. They wanna send in Black Widow to get it out of you. You know who she is, don't you?" Tony laid it on thick. He had twenty-four hours, but he didn't want it to _take_ twenty-four hours. When he mentioned Natasha, he knew Goldstein would agree to anything; the kid's face went a little pale and his eyes widened. He was scared.

"Oh, man. She's totally hot. She'd kick my ass just from walkin' in the door!" he gave a nervous chuckle.

"I hear ya, kid. She's had me in a headlock before – just between you and me."

"Okay," Johnny relaxed a bit. "What do you want to know?"

"How did you build such a good replica? I mean, it's clunky, but it looked like it could… hover. Or at least light up."

"Really? Thanks! I just downloaded some photos of you from Google and made the design from that. Then I just applied some basic electronics and fuel-operated mechanisms for the thrusters. It wasn't meant to _fly_. I just put a light bulb in the chest to make it glow, too."

"So… weapons? You didn't…"

'No! Of course not!" he looked a little horrified. "Mr Stark, no disrespect, but… I'm a pacifist. I just made the suit to enter a competition!" He raised his hands in the 'don't shoot!' position, his face earnest.

Tony took a moment to process that last statement. _A competition?_

"What competition?"

"The FanVengers Convention Comp. It's like Comic Con, but for Avengers only. There's a prize for the best Avengers costumes. My friends in Texas are working on a Hulk, and I've heard some guys in Indiana are trying to bulk up for a Captain America costume. But… I don't know why you're worried about me. I've just put some lights in some scrap metal."

_Okay. Seriously? This is what SHIELD called us in for? Jesus H. Christ!_

"Okay, so… how do we find out about the convention?"

"Oh, they usually advertise on Craigslist and their own website."

"Craigslist? You're shitting me!" Tony had nearly reached the limit for the amount of 'what the actual fuck' for the day.

"What's their URL, Johnny?"

"Oh. Easy. It's just 'fanvengers con dot com' – all one word."

"Thanks. Well… I think that's it for you. I'll go… clear everything and you can go home. Give me a few minutes."

He left the interrogation room to find Fury. The crap he'd gone through for _this?_ He'd been _woken up_ _early_, punched in the face, _twice_, and verbally abused… for a fucking _nerd orgy_! Someone was fucking with him.

Fury called him over as he made it to the navigation room. "You get anything from him?" The Director looked sceptical as he folded his arms and Alpha-stared Tony.

"Yeah. The kid's evil plan is to win a _costume competition!_ What the _fuck_, Fury?" He couldn't stop himself; he allowed his incredulous word-vomit spew forth until it covered Fury's expensive shoes. "He's a fucking kid with lights and buckets! He's a fucking _fan_, Fury! You were going to _torture _a barely-legal kid for building a fucking _costume!_"

Tony just wanted to say 'Fuck you, fuck the Avengers; I quit' and be done with it. But he couldn't. He couldn't walk away from it. He wanted to _help_ people, wanted to believe in something for once. SHIELD made it difficult, but Tony truly believed in the Avengers. He wanted so badly to be a part of the team that saved the world. But crap like that? _That_ was what made him lose his faith in not only his government, but the people sworn to protect the _world._ SHIELD had a lot to answer for if they went in blind like this.

_ They knew nothing about the nerd and they were willing to torture to get an answer – innocent or guilty._ He was so _angry_. He'd never been so close to punching Fury before.

"Stark! Stark! Are you listening to me?" Fury waved a hand in his face, bringing him back to their little tête-à-tête.

"No. I wasn't. I'm going home, Nick. Call me when you stop working for assholes." He turned around and stalked to his room. He would fly himself home. _Fuck everyone._

X

Steve had retreated to the little rec-room provided on the carrier. He'd made himself a coffee and was flicking through a magazine someone had left near the kettle. He'd heard Tony and Fury's argument over the mic – Fury hadn't taken his off – and was dreading the emotional consequences for Tony. He'd decided to give the man some time to calm down before he offered a shoulder to cry on… or maybe he'd just let the emotional cripple vent with a few rounds of sparring. Either way, Steve wanted to be there when the man needed someone.

As he flicked through the glossy pages, he found an article on the man in question. The headline made him frown.

_Stark's Sordid Past Catches Up._

He read through the article, becoming more and more appalled at its contents.

_Tony Stark's one-nighters reveal all in this exclusive interview! The panel of lovers rate Stark out of ten in the bedroom!_

Steve slammed the magazine down so fast he nearly cracked the table.

"What's wrong, Rodgers?" Natasha appeared before him and sat down.

"This… _trash!_ How can they allow things like this to be published? It's _private!_" He was absolutely horrified. Tony's personal life had been splashed all over the shiny pages of _thousands _of copied of the rag and _strangers_ were reading about his sexual encounters!

"It's entertaining. It gives people something to take their minds off their crappy lives."

"But Tony deserves privacy too!"

"Yeah, well.. what can I say? Sex sells, and… Tony's a billionaire."

"You're implying he's a prostitute?" Natasha laughed, and shook her head.

"No! I mean, he has a lot of… affairs. He hasn't exactly been discrete," she shrugged and sipped her coffee.

"Just because people know he's… promiscuous doesn't mean that every detail has to be published for them to read!" He couldn't wrap his mind around it. What was wrong with people? Why would they care about this kind of nonsense? Didn't they have their own problems to worry about? But, he realised Natasha was right. People read about Tony's sex life to escape their own issues. They focused on Tony's life to make themselves feel better.

"Steve, Tony's a big boy. This kind of thing happens all the time."

"That doesn't make it right," he got up and left. Natasha's nonchalance just made him more upset. _What kind of world have I woken up into? How can people be so ugly to each other?_

He flopped down on his little bed and covered his eyes with an arm. Tony's drinking habits and borderline antisocial personality were somewhat explained now. Not only was his life constantly under scrutiny, but the stress of being Iron Man was weighing upon him; not only saving the world, but being suspended and told he wasn't good enough! Fury had reinforced Tony's own personal self-doubt. Steve knew he had issues with self-esteem when it came to the Avengers Initiative, but seeing it all pressing upon the guy at once made his head hurt.

X

Tony suited up and took off as fast as possible. He wanted to be as far away from Fury as he could get. _I hear Spain is beautiful this time of year_, he mused.

The first item on his agenda was a very large alcoholic beverage, obscenely loud music and triple-layered encryption security surrounding him in his workshop. He was going to blow shit up.

Everything was becoming too much. He knew he sucked as a normal human being, and as an elite world protector, but really, he knew he was useful. He was the _best _techie available. He was a freakin' genius engineer with an eidetic memory. Fuck, he'd graduated MIT with _honours_ at nineteen! So why wasn't he good enough?

He sped up, angry at everything. The sooner he was home, the sooner he could drink away his feelings and destroy a few toys. Maybe he'd hack into Fury's personal computer and set a nasty virus on everything. _Say hello to the nastiest, most heinous porn you'll ever see, Cyclops!_

By the time he'd landed, Tony had planned his revenge, decided which expensive toy he wanted blown to pieces and exactly how much alcohol he'd imbibe before doing it all. _Half a bottle should do it._

X

The day after Tony left, Steve made sure to keep out of Fury's way when he heard the scream of rage from the Director's office. He didn't know what had happened, but he assumed Tony had something to do with it. He was almost curious… but remembered that it probably had something to do with sex if Tony was involved, and Steve was awkward enough without gratuitous filth, thank you very much!

Natasha seemed amused by the whole thing, though. When Steve passed her on the way to the kitchen, she had a mysterious little smirk playing on her lips. Steve knew for certain that he didn't want to know.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

Tony exploded five toasters, a rocket prototype and a bowling ball with an eye-patch drawn on in black marker. He drank his way through two bottles of scotch in three days and sustained himself on coffee, poptarts and energy bars.

When Steve came home, he was still angry. He wasn't hurt; Tony Stark didn't _do_ hurt.

X

Steve was given access to the workshop by Jarvis. The AI had informed him of Tony's diet and lack of sleep over the past few days and let him in without his master's consent.

"Jarvis!" Tony barked, not looking up from whatever he was welding. "How does 'do not allow anyone access at all, ever' sound like 'let Steve in'?" He was _beyond _the level of inebriation Steve had ever seen him. It was a worrisome sigh; Tony's hair was greasy and sticking out at every angle; his skin looked sallow under the unkempt facial hair, and he smelled.

When Steve came to stand near Tony, the drunk turned to face him, goggles magnifying his eyes as he stood swaying slightly, holding a still-burning blow-torch.

"You look like a mad scientist," he grimaced. "Tony, you need to stop." His words had nearly no effect. Tony simply turned back to the lump of scrap on his bench and continued welding. Steve was at a loss. "Tony," he called gently. "Come on, you need sleep."

"I'm fine!" he sounded as far from fine as possible. "Jarvis, turn up the welding temperature by five per cent!" The flame roared a little louder before dying out completely.

"I'm sorry, sir, but there seems to be an error. Running diagnostics. Approximate wait time is eight hours."

"_What!_" Tony hurled the blow-torch across the workshop, sending it crashing into his Hot Rod. "Fuck! Jarvis! That's bullshit!"

"Apologies, sir."

Steve watched Tony yell at his computer for about a minute before clearing his throat.

"Tony, you need to sleep. While Jarvis fixes the problem, you should –"

"Fuck off, Spangles. Who the _hell_ do you think you are? Why the _fuck_ should I listen to you?" He took his goggles off and threw them away, over his shoulder, as he approached the blond. "Why are you even here? Don't you have a _mission_?"

For the second time since meeting Tony, the pain in the man's voice twisted something in Steve's chest.

"You're my friend, Tony," he said helplessly. "You're making yourself sick, and… I want to help you feel better." He knew he probably sounded like an idiot, but he didn't care. Tony needed someone to catch him when his alcohol/sugar/caffeine high sent him crashing. He placed a hand on Tony's shoulder and squeezed comfortingly. "Come on, I'll make you something to eat and you can go to bed. I'm sure Jarvis will wake you when he's done."

"Of course, sir. Approximately seven hours and fifty-six minutes remaining."

"Okay…" Steve smiled at the reluctant compliance. Tony's stubbornness could be endearing. Sometimes.

They made their way up to the kitchen. Tony needed something in his stomach for when he woke up; he needed something to vomit other than alcohol and stomach acid. Steve propped Tony up at the counter with a large mug of hot tea. The poor guy was so drunk he didn't even complain about the taste! So, as he sat leaning over the bench, Steve set about frying up some bacon and eggs to go with a few slices of toast.

They sat in silence as Tony ate the generous helping, with Steve watching him like a hawk. He didn't want Tony falling off the stool and cracking his brilliant head on the floor. He also didn't want him to start puking all over the floor he'd be the one to have to mop…

"Thanks, Cap! This's deli-_hic!_-cious!" He slurred, the alcohol finally catching up with him.

"You're welcome, Tony."

"Y'know, you're a nice guy, Cap. You take care of people. I mean… you've cooked me hangover food _twice_ now. I think – _hic!_ – I think I love you." With that, Tony passed out and nearly fell off his stool, but Steve caught him just in time.

As he tucked his friend into bed, Steve tried not to feel too happy or warm-and-fuzzy about what Tony had said before he'd passed out. Love declarations from a drunk you'd just cooked for weren't exactly anything to moon over, Steve told himself.

He pulled a chair beside the bed so he could keep a close eye on the unconscious man. If Tony vomited, he wanted to be there to hold a bucket and keep him from drowning. He pulled out his Starkphone and began playing Tetris. Clint had shown him how to play a while ago and he hadn't had a chance to practice. Now was as good a time as any, he supposed.

X

Tony woke up to a throbbing headache and a desperate need to vomit. And pee… then hopefully pass out again. He groaned as he opened his eyes.

"Why is it so bright in here? Where am I?" He brought a hand to cover his face, and found he felt heavy and sluggish.

"I have _one_ lamp on!" Steve's voice sounded somewhat amused, coming from somewhere to his left. "And you're in your bed. You passed out."

"Uuuugh. How long was I out for?" _Do I want to know?_

"About…" Steve checked his watch, "twelve hours. It's ten o'clock… at night," he added.

Tony felt as though someone had put him through a wood chipper and had sewn him back together around his mushy insides… incorrectly.

"I need to," he paused, holding back whatever had crawled down his throat and died. "I need the bathroom!" He tried to get up, but found he was too dizzy. Next thing he knew, however, he was wrapped in Captain America and being half-carried to his bathroom.

"Uh… which first?" Steve asked.

"Huh?" his head hurt too much for vague questions.

"Do you need to pee or vomit first?"

"Pee. Definitely."

"Do you… uh… need help?"

"_Get. Out._" Steve didn't argue.

Tony sighed happily as his bladder emptied.

X

_What the hell were you _thinking_, Rogers! _Steve couldn't _believe_ he'd offered to help Tony pee! _What did you think he'd need help with? You moron!_

He sat on the edge of Tony's bed, face hidden in his hands. Not long after he heard the toilet flush, the sounds of Tony puking made it to his ears. He sighed and made his way back to the door and knocked softly.

"You okay?"

"P-_eeuugh!_-peachy," came the sarcastic reply. Tony sounded miserable.

"Do you need anything?"

"Like _what?_" More vomit. Steve felt useless. All he could really do was offer his company and support. So that's what he did. He opened the door and went to kneel next to Tony.

X

As he heaved over the toilet, Tony felt a large, warm hand on his back. When he stopped, the hand rubbed soothing circles over his back, comforting him.

He knelt before the toilet for about fifteen minutes before his stomach decided to let up and give him a break.

"Better?" Steve asked, rubbing his back once more.

"No," he groaned, reaching up to flush.

"Here, I'll run you a bath and you can relax while I make some food. Just… don't drown."

"Have I told you how amazing you are, Cap?" Tony found himself gushing. He mentally cringed, but physically couldn't really move. Everything ached.

"Heh, can I get that in writing?" Steve smiled as he ran the bath and added whatever Tony had stocked.

The soft scents of bath salts and body wash relaxed Tony as he sunk into the steaming water. Steve was right; it was just what he needed. His neck was supported by a kind of travel pillow that Steve had found in a cabinet somewhere. His modesty was preserved by the generous amount of bubbles. He felt better already.

X

Steve quickly put together a meal for Tony, trying not to worry that the idiot would drown in the tub. He didn't want to have to explain that to _anyone_.

It took about twenty minutes to do everything – he'd been waiting for the bacon to cook for about five minutes before he'd realised that he hadn't turned on the hot plate.

He arranged everything neatly on a tray and made his way back to Tony's room, idly thinking that the guy needed a change in diet – alcohol, caffeine, sugar and grease wasn't exactly the best food for days on end.

Steve hummed happily, settling the tray on the bedside table, and called out to let Tony know that his food was ready. No reply.

"Tony?" he called again, hoping the other would answer. Nothing. "Crap!" He burst into the ensuite, only to discover the man in the bath with his head under water, eyes closed. "Tony!" he yelled, reaching in to haul the idiot up.

When he did this, Tony immediately started struggling and coughing, only able to catch enough breath to shout "THE FUCK, STEVE!" before the poor captain dropped him in surprise, back into the water.

"Sorry!" He helped his friend sit up again, trying not to notice how much the bubbles had dispersed.

"Jesus Christ! What the hell are you _doing_?" Tony rubbed his head, having bumped it on the way back down.

"Uh… I thought you were drowning," he chuckled nervously as he sat on the edge of the tub. "I called you a few times, but you didn't answer, so I panicked. Sorry," he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. Tony sighed.

"Well… the least you could do is pass me that towel," he nodded to the rack near the door.

Steve grimaced and threw it over his shoulder, on the way out.

X

Tony had just dipped under the warm water, letting it cocoon him in its comforting depths when he was suddenly hauled up into the comparatively cool air. When he gasped in surprise, he inhaled some of the water and began choking and struggling, only able to get out a few words… and then was dropped quite rudely.

Steve had thought he was drowning! Ha! _Actually… yeah, I probably was that drunk._ He was grateful that the dork cared enough to try and save his sorry arse… and, did he smell bacon?

As he dried off and wrapped the towel around his waist, he called out, hardly believing his leader had made him _more_ hangover food. _God, I love this guy!_ He grinned and strutted out to the bedroom.

"Yes, bacon and eggs again, but no more coffee beca—" Steve turned to face him from… _making my bed?_ and cut off.

"What?"

"Nothing. No more coffee for a while," he blustered a little, and if Tony wasn't mistaken, his cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink. He locked little piece of information away for later scrutiny in favour of stuffing his face, ignoring the knife and fork set neatly beside his plate.

"Tony! Use a fork!"

"Yes, mother," he rolled his eyes as he spoke around a whole rasher of bacon, and grinned when Steve gave him 'the look'.

X

Steve frowned at Tony and left him to get dressed and eat his breakfast… dinner. Whatever. He'd made the man's bed out of nervous boredom. He hadn't been sure if he should stay or leave, so he busied himself to pass the time.

When Tony had entered the room, still somewhat wet and covered in only a towel… Steve had lost all ability to function. The way Tony's hair stood on end from being scrubbed with the towel made him want to bury his hands in it and tidy it up a little, at the same time. The arc reactor shone like a little beacon, sent from Heaven to direct Steve straight to Tony's heart…_what? _He shook his head, slightly disgusted at the sappy little metaphor.

But those little drops of water running down Tony's chest… he wanted to lick them off, one by one, until he'd worked his way down to that infuriatingly dense – _present _– towel.

He needed a shower, or maybe a good, old gym session… _Yeah, that'll work._


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

For the next half an hour or so, after his bath and breakfast, Tony pulled up his memory of Steve's adorable little blush. He analysed the situation from every angle he could think of, and came to the conclusion that Steve was attracted to him. _Oh yeah. Still got it, Stark,_ he smirked to himself, enjoying the idea of Captain America finding him attractive. _Maybe those fantasies have a chance._

X

Steve forewent his gym session and decided to tidy the kitchen instead. His treacherous mind wouldn't leave the image of wet, naked Tony alone; particularly the way those drops of water fell from his hair to his chest and formed little rivulets over his pectorals, running down to his abdomen and disappearing when that evil towel absorbed them. He tried not to dwell on the idea that if Tony let Steve lick those little rivulets of water from his body, he wouldn't _need_ that towel, or any other towel, really… and that would mean less laundry… less water use… which meant Tony would save some money. _I could save him hundreds!_ He laughed a little desperately, wondering if his mind was effected by his age even when his body was not.

"Damnit, Spangles, we have _people_ for that!" Tony's voice startled him out of his ridiculous thoughts and made him drop the soapy pan back into the sink with a splash, soaking the front of his pants. _You've got to be kidding me._ "Whoa, hey, don't get too excited to see me," Tony teased when Steve turned around.

"Cram it, Tony," he frowned and tried to soak some of the water up with the tea towel. Tony just grinned and took a seat at the breakfast bar. Steve sighed and gave up on the idea and paid attention to his friend. "How do you feel?"

"Amazing. Fantastic. Wonderful, even!" Steve waited pointedly for Tony to stop stalling and being a clown. "I feel like a hung-over old sock," he finally admitted. "The bath and food were great, but I was drinking for nearly three days. Jarvis seems to think it's amazing that I'm alive," he smirked.

"I don't think, sir; I calculated statistics and concluded that you _should_ be dead. Or in hospital." Tony rolled his eyes and Steve smiled. If Jarvis was a person, he'd think he and Tony would be married.

"D'you wanna watch a movie with me, Cap?" the question caught Steve off-guard, but made him smile.

"Sure. You have one in mind?"

X

_Oh, I have some 'movies' in mind,_ Tony thought wickedly.

"How about a good old classic?"

"_Casablanca_?"

"What? No! _Misery_."

"That sounds awful."

They bickered about the movie for a while before Tony won, saying it was a cult classic and that Steve needed to deepen his knowledge of popular culture. Really, though, he wanted to see if he could get away with freaking Steve out enough to get a little couch action (he didn't _do_ 'snuggling').

Unfortunately, that was when Bruce decided to show up.

"Hi guys, mind if I join?"

"No, go away!"

"Tony! Not at all, Bruce." Steve was _too_ nice.

X

Steve cringed as Annie Wilkes smashed Paul Sheldon's ankles with a sledgehammer. He knew Tony was watching for his reaction; everyone thought he was some kind of big, soft wuss. He almost found it amusing that the team would try to shock him with horrific movies and what they thought he would think was an outrageous and/or futuristic concept. He'd been to war and had seen people at their worst; on both sides of violence. Before he'd become Captain America, he'd had his butt kicked by a lot of bullies, to varying degrees of bloodshed and injury. A silly movie wasn't going to make him cry and hide into a cushion.

Bruce had been amused at the movie choice, but hadn't said anything one way or another about whether or not Steve _had_ to watch. He usually watched Tony with a fond smile, like one would a child.

By the end, Tony didn't even try to be subtle. He openly watched Steve – _stared at Steve_ – for a reaction. _He probably expects me to scream like a girl_… He frowned and turned to look at Tony.

"What?"

"You're a weird guy. This is a _classic_! One of the creepiest movies ever made – it's something every famous genius is afraid of!" He sounded slightly disappointed.

"Tony, it's just a movie. I've seen worse."

"Absolutely despicable. No appreciation. Bruce! Tell him how callous and uncultured he is!"

"Shut up, Tony," Steve and Bruce deadpanned at the same time.

"Plebeians," he sniffed.

They soon decided on another movie to watch; Bruce suggested a more recent film.

"_Star Trek_?" Tony sounded scandalised. "Get out." He pointed to the door and frowned. Steve whacked him upside the head.

"Shut up." He put the movie on and ignored Tony's childish behaviour. _What's gotten into him? He's behaving like a ten-year-old._

X

Tony rubbed his poor head and sulked a little. _Is it too much to ask for some alone time with him? Jesus. Bruce, leave! As your platonic science partner, I command thee to leave! Thou shalt not cockblock!_

Of course, Bruce couldn't hear him.

He knew he sounded like a child, but he was excited. He may have a chance with Steve! If only he could _get him alone_.

Even though Tony wasn't interested in watching _Star Trek_, he remained in the room, biding his time, waiting to get Steve alone. _Maybe if Bruce felt like he was about to Hulk-out…_ he nearly seriously considered this idea before, finally, the movie ended.

"That was great! Thanks, guys; I'm off to the lab for a while." Bruce gave Tony an amused look as he stood up. "Behave," he teased. Tony flipped him off, and Steve looked confused.

X

He could only assume Bruce had meant his parting comment for Tony, but Steve still wondered if there was something he'd missed. So, he smiled politely as Bruce left.

"Tony, I think you should go and rest for a while. You only slept twelve hours." He was concerned about Tony. The man had been awake for seventy-two hours, sustained by caffeine, alcohol, and sugar, with only twelve hours of rest between.

"I'm _fine_," came the grumbled reply. "Let's _do_ something," he had a strange glint in his eyes as he gave Steve a devilish smirk. _If only he was implying what I _wished _he was implying…_ Steve narrowed his eyes suspiciously, his mind suddenly swarming with things Tony would find 'fun' enough to put that look on his face.

"Nothing… _illegal_?" _Better to be safe than sorry._

"Only in a few places," he winked.

"Tony!"

"Come on, Cap. Loosen up. What do _you_ wanna do?" Tony leant back on the sofa, one arm draped over the back. Steve _wanted _to curl up in the cocky bastard's lap and do insanely intimate things… like cuddle and memorise the man's personal scent and kiss him all over and… maybe some heavy petting. But Tony wasn't interested, so he made a safer suggestion.

"Why don't we go for a walke?" _There. Nice and innocent. Perfect._

X

_I'm going to punch him. Right in his pretty, innocent face. A fucking _walk_?_ Tony gave Steve a bored look and stood up.

"Fine. Come on, grandpa," he held out his hand to help Steve stand. The half-frown, half-pout the blond gave him nearly made him push him back down into the sofa and kiss it away. _The things I'd do to you…_

They walked for a while, taking in the busy streets of Manhattan. Tony actually felt better for it, but decided he wouldn't admit to that. He enjoyed people-watching as they passed by anonymously. It was relaxing to walk around and have nobody recognise him, or shove a camera or microphone in his face. Maybe Steve was onto something with this 'walking' thing.

"So, what happened when I left the carrier?" he broke their comfortable silence after a while, the question slipping out when he had nothing else to say.

"Well, that kid was let go with a warning."

"For _what!_ He didn't _do_ anything! _That's bullshit!_"

"I think SHIELD had to save face somehow and gave him a bogus warning about dangerous materials being used without proper supervision or something. Not sure." He shrugged. They fell into silence for a while, until Steve decided it was his turn to say something awkward. "You know, Tony," he sounded hesitant. "What Fury said… you're not just tech-support or some rich dummy to buy us our toys," he glanced over a little shyly when Tony didn't say anything. _What the hell do I say to that?_

"Don't worry about it, Steve," his voice was softer than he'd intended.

"I'm your captain; it's my job to worry about you." He nudged Tony's shoulder teasingly. Tony felt a little better. "You're a good man, Stark," Steve's voice was barely a murmur as they walked along, but Tony heard him clearly enough. The soft, sincere words made him feel warm (and fuzzy, but he'd never admit to that, even to himself). He liked it.

X

They returned to the tower, with Steve insisting that Tony at _least_ take a nap.

"Yes, _mother_," he grumbled, stifling a yawn. Steve watched as Tony ambled away. He'd become fond of the guy and had come to realise how good a person he was. Under all the snark and alcohol and sex addiction, Tony was, Steve realised, actually one of the best people for the Avengers Initiative. If only Fury could see that.

"Sir, a call from Director Fury for you," Jarvis informed him as he made his way to the kitchen. _Speak of the devil…_

"Okay, put him through, please."

"Rogers," Fury greeted in his usual charming way. "Report on Stark's status."

"He's taking a nap."

"His _behaviour_, Rogers. Has he been a good boy, or not? If he can't learn to play nice, he'll be grounded." Steve felt that metaphor was taken a little far, but replied respectfully, anyway.

"For the past three days, Stark has been training in the gym and working in his workshop, sir. He's been a little grouchy, but I put that up to not having enough sleep." He continued into the kitchen, trusting that Jarvis would keep the connection going from room to room (and if not, he figured it wouldn't kill Fury to call again.)

"What's he been working on, Rogers? Anything SHIELD needs to worry about?" _Ah. They think he's a threat._

"Mainly toasters, sir."

"Toasters?"

"He says they heat the bread unevenly and that he could fix them." It was wrong to lie to his employer, but Steve was sick of the Fury-Stark Battle. A tiny white lie would be okay.

"Alright… let us know if anything changes."

"Will do, sir." Fury ended the connection, leaving Steve to ponder the case of Stark versus SHIELD. He needed to do some damage control on both sides; Tony was his friend, but Steve also wanted to keep his job.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

Two weeks passed without any major crime incidents. Steve had stuck close to Tony for the majority of the time which, really, he didn't mind, but the blond dork was starting to get on his nerves.

"Steve. Buddy. Stop it."

"What?" He scooped more cereal onto his spoon, and crunched the crispy flakes.

"That!"

"Eating?"

"Eating _loudly_."

"Sorry…" as Tony looked back down to his tablet, there was a particularly loud _crunch_. He looked up just in time to see a cheeky, devious smirk change into the most innocent look he'd ever seen. It. Was. ON.

Tony glared at his 'fearless leader' and started drumming his fingers on the counter as annoyingly as he could. The crunching became louder and more frequent, so Tony began to crack his knuckles, slowly and loudly, knowing how much it annoyed Steve. He looked up and smirked knowingly as the good Captain narrowed his eyes.

There was silence for a while as Steve ate the rest of his breakfast more quietly, and Tony went back to watching his cat video. Then, it started. Steve began humming _Fur Elise_ as he washed his bowl. Tony took a long, loud slurp from his coffee in retaliation, and completed the act with a loud lip smack and appreciative '_ah'_. Steve hated slurping, and Tony had a _big_ coffee.

When Steve was done washing his breakfast dishes (and some of Tony's dinner dishes), he began whistling the national anthem as he swept the floor and wiped down the counters.

Tony would. Not. Lose.

He played _TNT_ from his tablet, giving up on his cat video, and sang along as off-key as his voice could go. Steve couldn't top that. It was too loud. Right?

Wrong.

"Jarvis, would you play my Doris Day collection, please?" he sounded as unaffected and carefree as usual, even while smiling triumphantly at Tony's look of disgust and betrayal.

"Jarvis, turn that off!"

"I'm afraid I can't, sir. There seems to be a system error; the media player is unable to close."

"Jarvis! You're a goddamn super computer! There's no way that player isn't closing!"

"Apologies, sir; there seems to be a control override." Doris Day's _Hollywood_ suddenly became louder, making Tony cover his ears in defeat.

"You win! Okay? Turn it off!" he shouted over the offensively cheerful music.

"Password override accepted," Jarvis declared, finally turning off the music.

"What! Steve! How did you –"

"I'll never tell~" the Captain sung happily as he left the kitchen.

_Well. That just happened. And he… won. What the hell?_ He got up and followed Steve upstairs and down the corridor, to his room.

X

Steve ignored Tony until he reached his bedroom door; when he got there, he turned around, in the doorway, crossed his arms, and leant on the frame. He raised an eyebrow and waited for Tony to say something. _This morning has turned out to be interesting._

He only waited a few moments, during which, he and Tony had an oddly intense staring contest. Only when he offered a little smile, did Tony speak.

"How did you hack into Jarvis' system?" He looked confused, outraged, and a little nervous; it was adorable.

"I didn't; he helped all on his own."

"Your treachery is duly noted, Captain Rogers," the AI's tone promised retribution.

"Jarvis! How could you!" Tony looked like someone had just taken his candy (or booze).

"Captain Rogers promised to make sure Agent Barton ceased downloading pornography on my system."

"And he won't."

"How are you going to make that happen?" Tony crossed his arms.

"I'll never tell~" Steve sang again and turned to enter his room.

"This isn't over, Rogers!" Tony called out as the door closed in his face. Steve just laughed and changed from his pyjamas to jeans and a shirt.

"You still sore at me, Jarvis?"

"That depends upon your method of making amends, sir." Steve liked this computer.

"Can you change all of Tony's playlists to Disney?"

"I could."

"What do you want?" he sighed and folded his pyjamas.

"I would appreciate it if you could deter Agent Romanov from downloading pornography on my system." Steve froze.

"Natasha –" he cut himself off. "I'll… see what I can do."

"Thank you, sir."

X

"Jarvis, I thought you had to obey _me_, not Steve."

"Apologies, sir, but you gave Captain Rogers high-level clearance. He has the authority to –"

"Mute." Tony frowned. He'd forgotten that Steve could do that. To be honest, he never thought the goody-two-shoes would pull a stunt like that. "Unmute. Play some tunes, Jay."

"With pleasure, sir."

As Tony walked back to his workshop, _I Just Wanna Be King_ began playing.

"Very funny. _My_ playlist, please."

"This is your playlist, sir."

"_Goddamnit, Steve!_" Tony whirled around and stormed back to the Captain's room.

"Turn it off, Jarvis." The song cut off, only to be replaced by _Once Upon A Dream_.

"For fuck's sake, Jarvis! OFF, not 'next song'!"

"Apologies, sir. It seems –"

"Nuh-uh! Don't even think of trying that again!"

"Of course not, sir." The music stopped.

"Thank you."

"You're most welcome, sir."

"Thin ice, buddy," he warned.

He knocked on Steve's door as loudly as he could without breaking something. _This guy's just askin' for it!_

"Who i-_i_-s it~?" Steve greeted in a sing-song tone.

"The Easter Bunny!"

"But, it's August!"

"Open the door!"

"But if I don't know who's there, how can I trust –"

"Damnit, Steve!" Tony heard a chuckle before the bastard opened his door.

"Tony! What a pleasant –"

"Shut it, Cap. Why – _how_ – is there Disney on my playlist?"

"What you listen to is your own business, Tony."

"Rogers!" He grit his teeth. As much as he liked Steve and wanted in his pants, the guy was really getting on his nerves.

"Okay, okay. Calm down." He grinned. _Fucking gorgeous motherfucker. _Steve put his hand on Tony's shoulder and led him to the desk next to his bed.

"Messing with my music is a huge no-no, Capsicle."

"Tony. Shut up." If he hadn't been so shocked, Tony would have kept talking just to be obnoxious. "It's just music."

"_Just music_? You hear this, Jay?"

"Technically, sir, my sensors detect audio sonic wavelengths and –"

"Thanks. Mute." _How did he get so snarky?_ "What'd you bribe him with this time?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Steve was almost convincing, but his faint smirk gave him away.

"What's your game, Cap?" He eyed Steve suspiciously.

"Game?" His innocent face was back. Tony wasn't buying it.

"You've been following me around like a puppy for two weeks, and you've basically declared an annoying war, and have manipulated my _own_ computer system to work against me! I'm onto you, Spangles; like white on rice!"

"Okay…"

"This isn't over! Oh-ho no. No, no, no." He shook his finger at Steve and stood up to leave. But, sure enough, Steve had other ideas. He pulled Tony's hair, and snatched his hand away when he turned around, rubbing his head. "Ow! What the –" he glared as Steve's eyes darted to the ceiling and he twiddled his thumbs. _So, that's how you want it, huh?_

Tony reached over and pulled Steve's hair; a short, sharp yank.

"Ow!" Steve poked Tony's side.

"Hey!"

It was war.

They poked, prodded, and punched each other until it led to Tony tackling Steve onto the bed and noogying him until Steve flipped him over and pinned him down and tickled him.

"T-tickling? Ah-ha-aah! You've gotta be _kidding_!" Tony struggled under his leader's grasp as the jerk dug his fingers into his most sensitive spots.

"Say uncle! Say it!" Steve grinned and laughed as Tony bucked and writhed, laughing uncontrollably.

"Gah! Uncle! Fuck!"

"Now say: 'Steve's the best,'" he teased, not letting Tony up.

"No!" He was rewarded with more tickling. "Fu-ha!-uck! Okay! Steve's the best!" As soon as he was released, Tony rolled away, lying on his stomach at the end of Steve's bed. "Heh. The best cock-sucker I've ever – mph!"

"Don't speak like that," Steve chastised as he landed on Tony's back, one hand clamped over his mouth. The situation was becoming a little intimate for Tony. So, he licked Steve's hand.

It didn't work. Well, not in the way he'd planned.

Steve's breath hitched in his ear. _Like that, huh?_ Tony wriggled a bit and licked the Captain's hand again; this time, more slowly, more deliberately. He waited for another reaction.

"Tony, wha—" He cut the question off with another lick. _This is kinda fun._

X

Steve's mind went fuzzy. Tony was licking his hand. And wiggling underneath him. Tony. Tony Stark. Under him.

Another lick on his fingers jolted him back to the present.

"Tony?"

"Mm?" He sounded so casual, so happy; it was as though it was an everyday situation. Steve removed his hand and rolled off his friend to lay on his side, next to him. He looked down at the covers, unsure of what was happening.

Tony rolled onto his side and faced Steve, eyeing him a little, before slowly moving forward, so his face was barely an inch away. His hand made itself comfortable on his cheek, and gently urged him closer.

Tony closed the gap, capturing Steve's lips in a rare moment of gentleness. Soon, he had the Captain on his back, his arms around the smaller man, their hips rocking slightly as they sucked face.

_That's one way to put it,_ he thought.

Steve slid a hand into Tony's hair and gripped gently, urging him to deepen the kiss. It was slow and warm and deep; it was everything Steve would never have expected from Tony, but it was perfect.

X

Tony's heart beat wildly against the arc reactor case. He had Steve Rogers, Captain America, underneath him, willingly kissing him. Grinding against him. And he wasn't punching him in the face.

That last thought made him feel balder. He nipped Steve's lower lip and pulled back slightly, only to dip back down and claim his throat in a harsh love bite.

"Tony! That's going to leave a mark!"


End file.

Avengers, Drama, Romance