When he'd first met him, Tony had been pretty positive Captain America was a dick. A dick with very few redeeming qualities who hated him and wasn't really worth the effort for, well, making an effort. There he was, on his high-horse where he very proudly looked down on the lesser, selfish men like Tony and passed judgment on them all. Of course, it might just have been Tony's insecurities and inadequacy issues showing through, but who was he to point out his own flaws when he didn't have to. He had the mainstream media and a hundred thousand people on youtube who took care of that on a regular basis without him having to lift a finger.
But anyway, Captain America, the dick. He really had seemed that way, and Tony had been quite ready to call the whole thing off--call up Pepper and convince her to give them another chance, reacquaint himself with the house in Malibu and all those miles of skin--when they'd actually had to go into battle for the first and he'd seen. Well, he'd seen Captain America literally throw himself in front of a speeding train to save a kid. And, you know--it's not like he wouldn't do the same thing. He was doing, was en route when Steve beat him to the punch, but--well, he's got iron armor and Steve just has, being Captain America. Some serum that makes him super strong and super fast but Tony can't help but think that behind that shield he seems pretty much flesh and bone. And even super strong bones can break and a gun can stop a super-strong heart as easily as a normal one.
So he'd been impressed, and begrudgingly decided that Steve earned his respect if not his friendship. And then Steve had the gall to be a reasonable guy once he'd settled into things, and Tony had been a goner. And so he'd started spending time with Captain America. One one hand the embodiment of everything that made the core of America-freedom and idealism and individuality and a steadiness that comforted and on the other, everything that was the modern United States: technology and innovation and immediacy and capitalism personified. They were strange bedfellows, but they made their friendship work and well, somehow, Steve had ended up knowing almost as much about him as Pepper, and he found he didn't mind.
He wasn't, exactly, sure when friends (and even, perhaps, best friends) became something slightly more intentioned, but one day he'd been looking at Steve and beyond his normal appreciation--because he was a red-blooded American man who fell somewhere quite near the 'well I'll try anything once and most things twice and an orgasm is great on both sides of the equation' end of the spectrum, and Steve was a sight for anyone's sore eyes--thought that he would like to see how the man looked first thing in the morning, or how he might like his coffee, or what Tony would have to do to make him curse and just how long Tony could tease him before he finally broke that control and took---
No, he wasn't entirely sure when it had shifted for him, but it had and there was little Tony could do about it now. Now he could sit and pine (and oh how he pined) for a man so straight arrows aspired to be him, and hope that whoever finally did win Steve's heart would be worth him.
It seemed, for all intents and purposes, that he was maturing. Dammit.
So, with that in mind, as soon as Steve's voice met his ears his attention was pulled nearly immediately from his work--and that was a feat in itself, Pepper would attest--to focus on the Captain. His eyes were blown wide and getting wider, so that there was only a slim line of that brilliant, piercing blue, and his face was flushed in a way that made Tony want a glass of water and some baseball statistics, hair ruffled out of its perfect sheen and looking for the world like--well.
Tony wasn't that much of a patriot in the strictest interpretation of the word, but if this was their icon, God Bless America.
But the confusion pulled him up short, and he swallowed, gathering himself and pushing off his chair, moving out from behind his desk and over to Steve, hand falling to the other's elbow to direct him, fingers curling over his forearm, thumb stroking once along the inside of the crease.
"Sit," he instructed, looking the man over again, this time trying for critically. He mostly--well, the loose fit of his slacks was proving to be his only redeeming factor. "JARVIS? Up and at 'em. I need a full bio read-out on the Cap here, with detail, please,"
"Of course, Sir," The voice replied, dry as ever, while Tony hovered protectively.
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But anyway, Captain America, the dick. He really had seemed that way, and Tony had been quite ready to call the whole thing off--call up Pepper and convince her to give them another chance, reacquaint himself with the house in Malibu and all those miles of skin--when they'd actually had to go into battle for the first and he'd seen. Well, he'd seen Captain America literally throw himself in front of a speeding train to save a kid. And, you know--it's not like he wouldn't do the same thing. He was doing, was en route when Steve beat him to the punch, but--well, he's got iron armor and Steve just has, being Captain America. Some serum that makes him super strong and super fast but Tony can't help but think that behind that shield he seems pretty much flesh and bone. And even super strong bones can break and a gun can stop a super-strong heart as easily as a normal one.
So he'd been impressed, and begrudgingly decided that Steve earned his respect if not his friendship. And then Steve had the gall to be a reasonable guy once he'd settled into things, and Tony had been a goner. And so he'd started spending time with Captain America. One one hand the embodiment of everything that made the core of America-freedom and idealism and individuality and a steadiness that comforted and on the other, everything that was the modern United States: technology and innovation and immediacy and capitalism personified. They were strange bedfellows, but they made their friendship work and well, somehow, Steve had ended up knowing almost as much about him as Pepper, and he found he didn't mind.
He wasn't, exactly, sure when friends (and even, perhaps, best friends) became something slightly more intentioned, but one day he'd been looking at Steve and beyond his normal appreciation--because he was a red-blooded American man who fell somewhere quite near the 'well I'll try anything once and most things twice and an orgasm is great on both sides of the equation' end of the spectrum, and Steve was a sight for anyone's sore eyes--thought that he would like to see how the man looked first thing in the morning, or how he might like his coffee, or what Tony would have to do to make him curse and just how long Tony could tease him before he finally broke that control and took---
No, he wasn't entirely sure when it had shifted for him, but it had and there was little Tony could do about it now. Now he could sit and pine (and oh how he pined) for a man so straight arrows aspired to be him, and hope that whoever finally did win Steve's heart would be worth him.
It seemed, for all intents and purposes, that he was maturing. Dammit.
So, with that in mind, as soon as Steve's voice met his ears his attention was pulled nearly immediately from his work--and that was a feat in itself, Pepper would attest--to focus on the Captain. His eyes were blown wide and getting wider, so that there was only a slim line of that brilliant, piercing blue, and his face was flushed in a way that made Tony want a glass of water and some baseball statistics, hair ruffled out of its perfect sheen and looking for the world like--well.
Tony wasn't that much of a patriot in the strictest interpretation of the word, but if this was their icon, God Bless America.
But the confusion pulled him up short, and he swallowed, gathering himself and pushing off his chair, moving out from behind his desk and over to Steve, hand falling to the other's elbow to direct him, fingers curling over his forearm, thumb stroking once along the inside of the crease.
"Sit," he instructed, looking the man over again, this time trying for critically. He mostly--well, the loose fit of his slacks was proving to be his only redeeming factor. "JARVIS? Up and at 'em. I need a full bio read-out on the Cap here, with detail, please,"
"Of course, Sir," The voice replied, dry as ever, while Tony hovered protectively.
"What, exactly, are you feeling?"