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[gotup]

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[gotup]

Steve scoots his stool closer to Tony's, close enough that he can bump their shoulders together. The contact reassures him, grounds him. It's not easy to talk about how he feels, but he's trying his best to get it out for once in his life - emotional constipation, Tony would probably call it, and it's not totally inaccurate. Back when he was growing up, men didn't express feelings, especially not the kind that would make them look weak to others - and that was even more true for someone who was already about as weak and vulnerable as anyone could be. He's always hidden his feelings, his pain. During the war, he tamped down his fear and grief, his shock at the reality of war. And now everything's bubbling up to the surface, decades later.

"How do you see it?" He has to ask, of course.

[myheartglows]

With a soft smirk (ever the showman drawing in his crowd), Tony answers, "You said it yourself: you're home." He gestures around. "Here. With this ragtag bunch of misfits we call a team."

[gotup]

"We call a team," Steve echoes with an arched eyebrow. Maybe it's a slip of the tongue, but he's not going to let that pass without calling Tony out on it. Every time he goes out on a mission without Tony, he feels the space where he should be, and he misses having him at his back.

[myheartglows]

"... Right," Tony drawls with the expectant look he gives when he's waiting for his audience to catch on until with a start he realizes Steve is waiting for him to catch on and he adds, "Your team, of which I am the benefactor, thereby also partially making it my own—look, don't spin this around on me. I'm trying to be comforting."

[gotup]

"Of course, dear," Steve replies dryly, but the entire effect is spoiled by the sappy smile he gives Tony. The implication, though, is that he prefers his interpretation of Tony's words to the so-called explanation. Softly, and with more sincerity in his voice, he adds, "I appreciate it."

[myheartglows]

Tony studiously examines Steve's face before he sighs, with which the weight on his shoulders returns. A weak half-smile precedes him returning to his food, but he simply stares at some spot on the bench. He's one to talk, really, about finding one's place; he's still flip-flopping about his own. He can decree himself dedicated to the future and philanthropy all day long, can play the benefactor seemingly content to support and manage from the sidelines, but what he really wants, what his heart wants—

With a sudden start Tony stuffs the last bit of burger into his mouth. Oddly animated, he says to Steve while wiping his hands, "Leave your door open. I'm spending the night."

[gotup]

Steve almost, almost replies with As you wish, but thinks better of it, doesn't want to fuck things up yet again by pushing the issue, because he knows now that what feels right to him doesn't necessarily feel right to Tony.

"Like you wouldn't just let yourself in anyway." He chooses the more sarcastic retort - but, really, he doesn't care if Tony barges in on him. He doesn't have anything to hide from him. "Which, by the way, you're welcome to do," he clarifies. His door is always figuratively open, even if it's physically closed.

"You gonna keep working in here till bedtime?" Steve sucks up the dregs of his milkshake through a straw as he waits for an answer.

[myheartglows]

"I could be persuaded to do otherwise," says Tony, innocently mimicking Steve by drinking his milkshake, though sliding his lips off the straw with a soft pop afterward is all but.

[gotup]

Steve laughs softly at the display. Over time, he's grown used to Tony's innuendos, so what might have once left him squirming in his seat while Tony fellated his straw just amuses him now. He still has an idle thought about Tony pushing him back against one of the tables and going down on his knees, but it's not the desperate urge it would have been a couple months ago.

"You sure you don't want me to leave you and your milkshake alone instead?" he teases him. "I know how you get about chocolate."

[myheartglows]

Nothing of priority to work on comes to mind and a quick scan of the lab space reveals nothing that won't result in more helplessness and anger (they killed her, they killed my mom, runs repeatedly in the back of Tony's head as if on a news ticker, and I can't do anything about it)—but what's more, he doesn't want to let Steve leave alone after that little heart-to-heart. "Why be alone when I can have you watch?" Tony says. Then he stands with the cup, his belly warm and full. "Aren't relationships about compromise?" he asks cheekily and sucks up a gratuitous amount of shake, cheeks hallowed.

[gotup]

"Exhibitionist," Steve retorts warmly, conveniently ignoring that he would enjoy any real exhibitionism. He's not falling for Tony's dramatic attempts at seduction this time. (Not right away, at least.) "You wanna watch a movie or something?" It's nowhere near bedtime, and if Tony's not going to keep working, then Steve wants to spend time with him. They'll have to keep the cuddling fairly low-key, since they're still limited to the Avengers' shared space, but Steve doesn't mind. He starts collecting the trash from their dinner, stuffing it into the bag it came in.

[myheartglows]

Pain stabs at Tony above his eyebrow mid-suck, but he conceals the grimace until Steve turns to collect the trash. The migraine dulled, but never completely left, a persistent pressure in his skull. Gotta lessen the side effect somehow—no, no, he chides his thoughts, no detours, just Steve. Steve has done so much for him. He deserves the attention. "Whatever tickles your fancy, O Captain of mine. I'll follow you," Tony grunts.

[gotup]

Steve's used to spending nights on his own, reading or sketching or simply going back to work, if there's more to be done. Spending time with someone else is still novel to him, and it has yet to occur to him that he could still do his solitary activities in Tony's company; he feels obligated to find something that engages both of them together and isn't simply having a lot of sex.

"That's an instinct that'll get you in trouble someday," he offers wryly. Following him headfirst into whatever disaster awaits usually doesn't end well for anyone - although admittedly Tony has enough sense to hang back and analyze the situation first, to balance Steve's more impulsive tendencies. "But tonight, a movie."

Steve laces his fingers in Tony's and thinks about how nice it is to just be able to walk with him holding hands, like stupid teenagers. He leads Tony to the shared common area - empty for now - and settles down on the couch, picking up the remote with his free hand, and clicks through the Netflix menus till he settles on a generic rom-com, something that doesn't require too much attention. "You need anything else?" he asks Tony.

[myheartglows]

As they leave the lab hand-in-hand, Tony's loose and comfortable in Steve's, Tony calls over his shoulder, "Lights out! Be good, U." He receives an answering beep and the holograms and screens shut off in sections behind them. From there the walk to the common room is filled by idle talk. Tony asks after his "chocolate bear" (Rhodey, obviously), who is out on a military operation, and reminds Steve again to request anything anyone on the team needs, Steve himself included. Though reassured that Steve and everyone is all right, an underlying worry weighs on Tony's heart during the exchange, revealed through a silence where he stares ahead and purses his mouth. An offhanded joke covers it up. That failing, Tony insists it's a matter to discuss later. To quote Steve: tonight, a movie.

Milkshake cup left on the table, Tony tips his aching head back onto the couch. He tries to focus on the heat of their interlaced fingers. "A bottle of water wouldn't go amiss. Heating pad, too," he finds himself answering—letting Steve take care of him. But of course Tony needs to be at least a little extra, so he requests, "Oh, and a traditional Swedish head, neck, and shoulders massage," as well.

[gotup]

Steve enjoys the chatter, even if he rolls his eyes at Tony calling Rhodey his chocolate bear (he's sure that Tony has even more ridiculous nicknames for him, and that Rhodey's heard them all in the many years he's known Tony). He doesn't press when Tony goes silent; they've had too many emotional moments today that he thinks they both need some time to recover, especially Tony.

"I should've asked before I sat down," Steve grumbles, but he's not really complaining. Instead, he gets up and fetches both of them bottles of water from the nearby minifridge that holds snacks and drinks for anyone too lazy to go to the kitchen while watching TV. "Is your head still bothering you?" He puts the movie on pause - the noise can't be helping his headache - and rubs at Tony's temples. "I'm afraid I'm not trained in massage," he offers wryly. "Missed that day of boot camp."

[myheartglows]

"I was watching that," Tony complains, which is a complete lie because before Steve sat back down Tony was resting his eyes and he's already tilting and turning into Steve's hands, "but this is way better." He groans, shoulders slumping, pouring himself into it. "Ya can use me as your practice dummy anytime."

[gotup]

"Mmhm," Steve agrees as he gently pulls Tony's head and upper body down into his lap. Yes, Tony, he's sure you were watching the movie that just started five minutes ago, even though the protagonists haven't even had their meet-cute yet. "What makes a massage Swedish?" His fingers knead circles on Tony's temples and scalp. "Do you buy it at IKEA and figure it out with diagrams?"

Ha, ha. He's hilarious.

[myheartglows]

Happily situated on his back and turned slightly into Steve's body heat (Tony contemplates burrowing his forehead into the side of Steve's stomach, preferably with Steve cupping the base of his skull: Tony's own living heated headache wrap, though really he just likes to feel surrounded by Steve, feel safe—), Tony scoffs, lips twitching, and says, "Not quite, no. It's the kind of massage you think of whenever you think of a massage. Neck, too, please."

[gotup]

Steve's more than happy to comply with the request, and he works his fingers into the tense muscles of Tony's neck. "Aren't you supposed to be the one giving me a massage, anyway?" he teases gently. "The kind where I'm naked and covered in oil, I don't know if that's Swedish or not." He doesn't care - the important part there is obviously Tony putting his hands all over him, and it's obviously less therapeutic than this massage is intended to be.

[myheartglows]

Tony's head lulls in Steve's hands, its weight entrusted to them. "Mmh. Could be. Either way that's a pretty picture, thooough not exactly conducive to relaxation..."

[gotup]

Steve chuckles low in his chest. "But a good idea for another time." His libido, thankfully, seems to be behaving itself tonight, even with Tony's head in his lap, which might prove a problem at other times. Instead, he's content to just sit here and massage Tony's neck and shoulders.

[myheartglows]

"Bingo," Tony murmurs, content as well. Like earlier in Steve's office, he's softened, readily pliable—despite what his muscle tension says, there's no real fight in him, not against Steve, not anymore (just against so much else), an example of Before and After with Valentine's Day as the turning point. Today only sealed it. "This's nice, right?" Tony whispers after a couple of peaceful minutes. "Let's plan more moments like this. Not that I don't appreciate the sex marathons."

[gotup]

"We could do this every night," Steve offers, his tone hushed as well. His massage has slowed, and now he's just rubbing a spot behind Tony's ear idly. "When you're here, that is." Tony's work takes him away often enough - but he suspects a little of that is because Tony wants to get away from what he perceives as problems. Regardless, he doesn't begrudge him any of the time that's necessary to, well, do whatever Tony does.

"And the occasional sex marathon," he adds with a twist to his lips, because it's not like Steve doesn't want that. Tony knows perfectly well how healthy his sex drive is.

[myheartglows]

Tony hums in agreement, hands folded on his stomach and face turned into Steve's. The body heat soothes his brow. "Remind me to bribe my contractor tomorrow," he says. The sooner he gets that ball rolling (renovation, design, furnishing, electric and plumbing, etc.), the sooner they can have more moments and sex marathons. Tony could install FRIDAY, too. It'd be nice to have a digital helper outside the shop again. Rooms will feel less empty. Between her and Steve, he has to stay on the right track, and maybe in turn Tony will provide the home base Steve needs—if what's coming doesn't tear this home apart. He's put out fires where he could, but the air's dry and the trees brittle. The spread can't be stopped.

[gotup]

Now his fingers drift over the nape of Tony's neck, gliding along the skin, not quite rubbing. "I can do that." And with Steve's memory, there's certainly no danger that he'll forget. "How do you want to tell everyone else about it?" Because if there are going to be construction workers around, they'll need to know what's going on - if only because they'll ask if they aren't told, and Steve has a terrible poker face when he tries to lie. Especially when he tries to lie about Tony.