heroic_jawline | Apartment Above Stark Industries

"Wow, you pulled out all the stops," Tony said once he pulled himself away from his work to answer Steve's call. "What's the occasion?"

Tony. Tony.

Steve blinked. "It's your birthday."

He looked a little panicked. "Right? April 1?"

Did he get the day wrong?

"It is?" Tony also looked a little panicked, glancing up before JARVIS took pity on the both of them.

"It is, sir. Happy Birthday."

The undertone that Tony's continued survival was a mysterious thing filtered through that synthetic voice.

Steve smiled, relieved, and wrapped Tony in his arms. "Oh, my genius."

"I remembered yours, right?" That was the actual important one here. Also, almost impossible to forget.

"Well, yes," Steve said, smiling, "but knowing your own is helpful, too."

"I remember... 60% of the time." Still less than 100%.

Steve laughed. "I love you," he said, kissing him. "Go wash up and I'll get the steaks out before Patriot learns to fly and eats them."

Tony glanced down at where the dog was doing his very best to get to the kitchen counters. "No," he said firmly.

Patriot all but melted into a disappointed furry puddle on the floor. No? Noooooo?

"Stop that," Steve murmured even as he was filling up the Kong like a sucker.

"You softie," Tony said, shaking his head as he left to take a very quick shower and get all the grease off himself.

"I'm not," Steve protested feebly as he got the rest of the food plated up and poured a bottle of very nice (to Steve's pocket) red wine.

Oh, Steve. Tony was going to have to get a wine fridge full of suitable wines for Steve to pick from.

Tony returned with damp hair and in slightly nicer clothing. The dinner seemed like the sort of thing for it. "Wine too?"

"Wine too," Steve said proudly.

"Best birthday a man can ask for," he said with a broad smile.

"Well, I know you weren't looking forward to it for weeks or anything," Steve teased, pouring him a glassful.

"Maybe secretly I was?" Tony said, trying his best to appear believable. "It makes the surprise all the better."

Steve laughed at him and gave him his plate of steak-and-stuff. "Maybe."

Tony inhaled deeply, taking his seat to devour this amazing meal. "Thank you for cooking, dear," he teased.

"In true New Yorker tradition, I outsourced," Steve teased back.

"You know when to let the experts work! It's a true sign of intelligence," he said, cutting into the steak and humming happily at the pink inside.

Steve grinned. "Well, thank you."

"I'm feeling thoroughly spoiled right now."

"Well, it's your birthday," Steve teased, "so good."

"Is there cake too?" Tony asked, snagging a fried onion.

"There's a cake we can set on fire."

Steve was so excited.

Tony laughed, shaking his head. "I'll tell JARVIS to not douse us in flame retardant foam."

"We won't be that bad at it," Steve said optimistically.

"He's over-protective."

He was not. They were just idiots in the kitchen.

"It's something called Baked Alaska," Steve bragged.

"I haven't had one in forever," Tony admitted with a little laugh. Because It was the oldest dessert ever.

"I've never had one," Steve admitted.

Because no one served them any more. Because they were from the 1950s.

"Then it'll be an experience." And they could catch half the kitchen on fire.

So fun!

"But first we should enjoy our steak experience," Steve said, who was devouring his portion (and then some) of the fried onions.

"What are the ravioli?" Tony asked, before Steve could finish those too.

"They have crab in them," Steve said excitedly, pushing the plate closer to Tony.

"Why thank you, sweetheart," Tony said, popping one into his mouth. "Okay, this wins you best birthday."

"I didn't know it was a competition," Steve said.

"Only about things that aren't truly important because it's nice and safe," Tony said, spearing one to offer over to him.

"Fair enough," Steve agreed, smiling around a bite of ravioli.

Tony smiled back at him. "Not too strange?"

"Just the right kind of strange," Steve said.

Tony leaned over the table for a quick, ravioli flavored kiss. Because perfect response, Rogers.

"I love you," Steve murmured. "Happy birthday."

"Thank you," Tony murmured, looking utterly pleased. "For all this."

"Of course," Steve said earnestly. "You deserve to be spoiled."

Tony grinned again and gave him one more kiss. "At least it's not an April Fool's joke."

"Never," Steve said. "I don't like April Fool's jokes."

"Because you're a sweetheart like that," Tony replied.

"Because it's a day to be mean while pretending to be funny," Steve said judgmentally.

"I'm absolutely certain you'd never be mean about it," Tony assured him.

"Thank you," Steve said, smiling at him.

"I know you," Tony said, leaning over for another kiss.

"I love that you do," Steve murmured.

Tony smiled as he pulled away. "C'mon, sweetheart. Let's light something on fire."

"That's the very best idea," Steve agreed, finishing his steak and leaving the last crab ravioli for Tony.

Which meant it was true love, honestly.

Tony hummed, finishing it off. If he maybe slipped a tiny sliver of his steak to the dog, no one needed to know.

Except that Patriot had just as zero chill as Steve and went a little nuts about the treat.

Steve snorted. "He's going to fart steak for three days," he said.

"But he loves it," Tony said, wiping his fingers off on a napkin.

"Well, yeah," Steve agreed, getting up and retrieving the dessert from the freezer.

"And he can't have dessert," Tony said, trailing after Steve to peer at it over Steve's shoulder.

Oh, he would find a way into a jar of jam, just you wait...

"He definitely can't have dessert," Steve agreed. "Since it's your birthday, do you want to set it on fire?"

Patriot, no.

"Of course!" There was a pause before Tony had to ask. "Do we have a kitchen torch? That's a thing, right?"

"Don't you have a blowtorch in the lab?"

STEVEN.

"I do," Tony said brightly. Which was only going to get them covered in flame-retardant foam.

"Let's use that!"

What an amazingly bad idea.

"Stay here," Tony said, darting away to go grab it.

Why were they like this? Why? They were smart men!

Well. Dudes and power tools? Or something?

Patriot sat at Steve's feet and tried to demonstrate through the World's Saddest Eyes how very much he needed a porterhouse bone the size of his head.

"No," Steve told him.

"J, don't douse us," Tony said, returning with a torch that had the appropriate firepower to be used on the suit.

"Okay, so the restaurant says I'm supposed to take this eggshell, fill it with rum and then light it, and then add more rum as it's on fire."

What could possibly go wrong?

"I don't think I have any rum. You think bourbon will do?"

It was going to be a fireball.

"I don't see why not," said poor optimistic, dumbass Steve.

"I'll even grab the good stuff."

Tony, no.

"What a good idea!"

STEVEN.

How had they lived this long? How?

Tony beamed, going to snag the bottle for this. "We can have some to drink after too."

"That sounds like an excellent plan," Steve said, carefully placing the eggshell half on the counter next to the dessert.

"I'll grab glasses and ice. You get started on the flambe," Tony replied.

"Right," Steve said, pouring rum into the eggshell and setting it into the little divot on top of the baked Alaska. "You sure you don't want to torch it? It is your birthday."

"Nah, you can wow me instead," Tony said, pouring them both flamable, flamable glasses of booze.

"Here goes nothing, then," were definitely not the words someone holding something flammable should say, but Steve said it anyway.

Well. Hopefully their eyebrows would grow back? Because that big 'whoosh' of flame filled the kitchen for a second there.

"UM."

The glasses in Tony's hands and the baked Alaska were still on fire. So. Mission half accomplished?

"Whoops," Steve said sheepishly, blowing the dessert out.

Tony blew the drinks out, quickly putting them down before he was burned by hot glass. "That was something."

"Maybe a one-time only something," Steve said, giving Tony's face a worried assessment. "You okay?"

"Would you believe that wasn't even the first time I've been caught in a fireball?"

Well. Yes. Your lives, boys.

"I would absolutely believe that," Steve said dryly.

"My beard okay?" Of course that was his concern.

"Slightly singed," Steve admitted a little guiltily, "but still symmetrical."

"It needed a trim anyway," Tony said, though it was clear he was trying to make Steve feel better about it.

"Maybe," Steve said, leaning to kiss him better.

"Now cut into the fire bomb before it melts," Tony murmured, holding onto the collar of Steve's shirt for another kiss.

"We'll just count all of this as singing and candles, okay?" Steve replied.

"Please," Tony said with one last kiss. "I hate the singing."

"I don't remember knowing that," Steve admitted. "No singing."

"Helps that you haven't been around for any of my big birthday parties." Which was actually nice. Those parties rarely allowed him to enjoy himself.

"Not your favorite, huh?" Steve asked sympathetically as he cut into the baked Alaska and made an excited noise. Mmm, cake and ice cream.

"I have to spend the whole night playing host to people I'm not even friends with," Tony grumbled, grabbing them plates and spoons.

Steve wrinkled up his nose. "That doesn't sound like fun."

"Hence not enjoying it too much," Tony replied with a smile and a sweep of his hand as though pretending to present his case.

Steve leaned in and kissed him. "So singeing your eyebrows and beard is still better?"

"It's more on par with my real life, yes." He was missing the nice clothing, but that was about it.

"Being kind of on fire?" Steve asked, smiling softly.

"Well..." Steve, you'd met him, right?

Steve laughed. "Hot mess," he teased. "Did I use that right?"

Tony's expression did a weird mix of offense and delight. "Oh, I'm telling Jan you used that term."

Steve's face went pink. "Should I be worried?"

"Only if you don't want her trying to update all your slang," he teased.

"You like it when I say swell," Steve said.

"It's cute." Jan also thought it was cute, but that he should be on Tiktok.

Steve blushed. "I don't do it to be cute."

"Still cute," Tony insisted, kissing him before snagging a bite of the dessert.

Steve wrinkled his nose up at him in reply, then took his own bite of dessert. He made a pleased noise.

"See?" Tony said, pointing at the face Steve was making. "Cute again!"

"I can throw a tank," Steve protested. "I'm not cute!"

Tony hummed, very clearly enjoying that mental image. "Yes, you can."

"I lost you there for a sec, didn't I?" Steve teased.

"Hmm?" Look, Steve had his competency kink and Tony had his strength kink.

Steve crowded Tony against the counter. "Come baaaaaaaaaaaack--" he teased.

Tony laughed, going easily. "Sorry, just picturing you lifting a tank. Sweaty. In uniform..."

"That's generally how it goes," Steve said, flexing his biceps as he lifted Tony up onto the countertop.

Tony made an absolutely delighted noise. "Well now."

"It is your birthday," Steve teased. "What would you like?"

Well now. That was the right question.

"Since it's already been brought up... I wouldn't mind you showing off for me a little."

"I'm all out of tanks right now," Steve murmured, kissing Tony's neck. "I can press you up against the wall, though--"

Tony laughed, hooking his arms over Steve's shoulders and legs loosely around Steve's waist. "Oh, you certainly could."

Steve smiled at him. "Hold you up and helpless--"

Was that a shiver of anticipation? Why yes, yes it was. "That's an interesting plan."

Steve kissed him softly. "Finish your cake first?"

Because Steve had a Thing about wasted food.

"Yes, dearest." He was lucky the food was so good.

Steve reached for their plates and forks, then offered Tony a bite.

Tony smiled and opened his mouth to allow Steve to feed him a bite. Because that's the couple they were.

At least they weren't in public with their schmoop? "It's almost finished," he said, kissing Tony after the bite was gone.

Small favors!

Tony chuckled, kissing him back. "You taste like chocolate."

"So do you," Steve said. "And it only smells a little like burning any more."

Win!

"Nothing sexier than burned hair," he teased dryly.

"Well, when it's your burned hair," Steve tried, then made a face, "still no. Sorry."

"Nope," he agreed with a laugh. "Hey, do you think your hair will grow back at a faster rate?"

"Probably," Steve admitted.

"That's hardly fair." Like. At all.

"I know," Steve said. "Sorry."

"Next time I'm using you as a shield," Tony decided after another bite.

Steve laughed. "Fine. Are you going to throw me?"

"Depends on if I'm in the armor or not." One was more likely to happen than the other.

Steve snickered. "I want to see you throw me when you aren't in the armor," he decided.

"It won't be as far, but I'll give it my best try," Tony replied.

Steve kissed him on the mouth. "I appreciate that."

Tony hummed, enjoying the kiss for a moment. "Nothing gets you going more than being thrown, huh?"

"Well, it's up there," Steve admitted with a wry smile.

"Oh, baby. Oh, baby," he teased.

"Brat," Steve teased back.

Tony couldn't help himself! He pretended to swoon, letting his head fall back and resting the back of his hand on his forehead.

"I'm so into you right now."

Steve kissed his hand, laughing. "You love me as a projectile, hmm?"

"It's when you're your most attractive, didn't you know?"

"I did not," Steve said. "Thank you for letting me know."

Tony grinned and tugged him into another kiss. "Try not to use it against me."

"No guarantees," Steve teased.

"Turned to the side of evil, I see," he teased right on back.

"Only for sexy things," Steve protested, grinning.

"Oh?" Tony sounded just so delighted by that.

Steve kissed him. "The look on your face."

"What can I say?" Tony replied, smiling into that kiss. "I like bad boys too."

"I can be a bad boy," Steve proclaimed wrongly.

"I would never be opposed to seeing that." Mostly because, yes, it might be tough for him to accomplish.

"I probably need my leather jacket to make it work," Steve mused.

"And the motorcycle." Now they were just building a fantasy.

Steve laughed and nudged Tony's shoulder. "Oh, really. Then what? Biker bar? Beat some guy in pool and start a bar fight?"

"Half of those things are definitely you things," Tony pointed out.

Steve laughed. "Which half?"

"The bar fights and the pool hustling," Tony said, crowding into Steve's space to stop just shy of kissing him.

Steve laughed and nudged his nose against Tony's, but didn't kiss him either. "And what would you be doing in this?"

"Me? I'd be the rich boy in over his head," Tony replied with a cheeky little grin. "Sitting at the bar, all by his lonesome."

"There's no way you'd be by your lonesome," Steve said, smiling. "Probably why I made the bet--trying to catch your eye."

"Oh? Showing up my date to get my attention?" Tony asked, enjoying this little story more than he should.

"If it gets you to smile that like, absolutely," Steve declared.

"And what's your first line for me?"

"Probably hi," Steve said. "I'm terrible at that stuff."

Tony laughed, tugging him into another kiss. "But you're a bad boy."

"So then, 'hey, wanna see my motorcycle?'" Steve teased.

"Offering to take me for a ride, huh?" Tony, no.

Steve grinned. "Would it work?"

"Depends on how cute the person is," Tony said. "You? Yeah, definitely."

Steve blushed, which was definitely not bad boy. "Plus I'd be wearing jeans that were too tight."

"And one of your normal shirts." Which was two sizes too small too!

"And the leather jacket," Steve added.

Tony hummed, wrapping his arms around Steve's trim waist. "Yes, please. I like this image."

Steve settled Tony onto his lap, smiling up at him. "Since this is pretend," he murmured and blushed, "I could blow you against the bike and nothing would fall over."

Tony laughed, pulling him into a kiss. "Yes, you could. Probably bend me over it too. Since it's pretend."

"Mmm, with all of our clothes still on in an alley that wouldn't smell horrible," Steve said.

Now that made Tony laugh helplessly. "You are such a New Yorker, darling."

"Alleys are gross," Steve said, wrinkling his nose up.

"I'm going to make you watch that Tom Cruise movie where they think the subway is the right place for a sex scene," Tony informed him with a delighted kiss on the nose.

Steve made another face. "Have they ever been on a subway?"

"Somehow I doubt it."

"Because the only sex going on there are the weird masturbators," Steve said.

Tony snickered even harder, having to muffle it on Steve's shoulder. "You smooth talker."

"Subways are not sexy," Steve said firmly.

"Neither are alley ways," Tony agreed. "Not outside of some very bad life choices."

Steve nodded vehemently. "I mean, I've gotten beaten up in most of the alleys in Brooklyn--"

"See, we have very different ideas of bad choices," Tony said with a laugh.

"What were yours?" Steve said, smiling.

"Bad friends, drinking, and--" He made a face, looking away from Steve. "--probably a few illicit substances."

Steve chuckled. "Afraid I'm going to launch into my public service announcements?"

"Well." Maybe? "It wasn't my proudest."

Steve kissed his cheek. "You're not using them now?"

"Do you count coffee?" he asked dryly.

Steve laughed. "No. Not for you."

"Well, there you go," Tony replied, relaxing a little bit. "Maybe I should have just joined a fight club or something instead."

"Another bad idea in an alley," Steve teased.

"Would've had something more in common with you then," he teased right on back.

Steve nudged his nose against Tony's. "We could exchange best practices for black eyes."

Tony huffed out a laugh. "Oh, those I figured out. No worries there."

"I still haven't figured out the ducking part," Steve said ruefully.

"I'll be sure to stock up on ice-packs," he promised, kissing Steve with a laugh. And then kissing him again and again like he couldn't help himself with how adorable the man was being.

"Hi there," Steve replied, laughing and kissing him back. "Fake dates really doing it for you?"

"I happen to enjoy all dates with you, Rogers." Shocking no one.

Steve smiled sweetly at him. "Even the one one the subway where we were five hours late to Jan's?"

"It was exciting?" It smelled bad and was cold, actually.

"Well, we did get hot dogs after," Steve said, grinning.

"You're a sucker for those dirty water hot dogs," Tony granted him. Oh, because Tony wasn't or something.

"I don't trust people who don't have the stomach for 'em," Steve teased.

"Stomachs of steel." If you hadn't gotten sick off street food at least once, were you really a New Yorker?

"Exactly," Steve said, grinning. "That and pizza from a place that's only open after the bars let the drunks out."

"Oh god, I want that now," Tony said, looking so stricken by the fact it wasn't going to happen right now.

Steve laughed, absolutely delighted by him. "Our next date," he promised. "We'll take the bike, I'll wear the jacket, we'll find a dive bar and some terrible pizza."

Tony cupped Steve's face in his hands for a kiss. "You spoil me."

"Who says I'm buying?" Steve teased.

"I'm no cheap date, sweetheart." He was. Distressingly so for his reputation.

"I'll find you the most expensive slice of trash pizza in the Bronx," Steve promised.

"And at least three beers," he added.

"Watered-down Miller Lite good for you?"

"Well, it's better than Natty Light," Tony shot back with a grin.

Steve snorted. "Even I know that's not beer."

"We could get you some Yuengling instead." Now there was a beer that Steve might have had back in the day!

"I could be okay with some Yuengling," Steve admitted.

"No lime monstrosities in their catalog," Tony added. Because good god. He was still traumatized.

He'd literally been tortured and this is what he focused on.

Steve made a horrible face. "Lime?"

"Bud Lite Lime? Ring any bells?" The trauma of HYDRA drinking habits.

"I have blocked it from my brain for my own protection," Steve decided.

"A smart move, honestly," Tony said with a sigh.

"The worst thing this century?" Steve teased.

"Easily the worst," Tony replied, pointing a finger at him like an accusation.

"What's the second worst?" Steve asked.

Tony considered it for a moment. "Global warming."

"Lime flavored beer, then global warming," Steve echoed, nodding. "What's next?"

"People who don't know how to drive." New Yorker.

"So most of 'em," Steve, fellow New Yorker, agreed.

"Exactly. Special place in hell for double parkers too."

Suuuuch New Yorkers.

"Especially the ones that just leave their blinkers on and go pick something up," Steve added.

"They're always out of state plates." Probably from Jersey.

"Connecticut," Steve said, wrinkling his nose up.

Tony wrinkled his nose up in an echo of Steve's disdain. "Thank god you understand the truths of New York."

"Another reason you love me," Steve said, smiling.

"Madly love you," Tony agreed.

"And you wouldn't if I was from Jersey," Steve teased.

"That'd be pushing it," he agreed with a playful shove.

"How about Staten Island?" Steve asked.

"I might have given you the time of day." Might being the key word.

Steve laughed. "Like the literal time of day, then told me to move on?"

"Depends on a lot of things," he teased.

"Such as?" Steve asked, grinning.

"If you're wearing those tight jeans Jan and Natasha made you buy." Which would turn Tony's head instantly.

Steve blushed, still smiling. "Those are a favorite, huh?"

"Well. Have you seen your ass in them?"

"Not really?" Steve admitted.

Tony hummed, glancing down like he was imagining it. Because he was imagining it.

Back came the blush. "You're picturing it now."

"It's a very nice image."

Sorry, Steve.

"I'm glad you enjoy it," Steve said. "You'll have to remind me which pair it is again."

"You'll know based on me putting my hands in the back pockets the moment I see you in them," Tony assured him. "As long as we're not in public."

He was being nice with that!

Steve laughed. "Oh, thoooose."

"They're begging for it to happen!" Jeans couldn't beg for anything, but they totally did.

"They're jeans," Steve pointed out.

"They're sinful."

"Like that dark blue suit of yours," Steve said dreamily.

Tony laughed, shaking his head. "Should I wear that on a date?"

"Not if you want to leave the apartment," Steve admitted.

"Well," he said with a slow grin. "I could always get a second version of the suit if you wanted to mess one up at home."

"Definitely do that," Steve said, kissing him.

"Great plan," Tony decided once he pulled away.

"I thought you'd like it," Steve said, looking proud of himself.

"I'm torn between asking you to wear those jeans and that dark blue uniform of yours." Of course he was.

Steve chuckled. "You do enjoy messing up the dress blues."

Tony hummed, very, very clearly giving that mental image all the time it needed. Sorry not sorry, Steve.

"Brat," Steve said, laughing and shaking his head.

"It's handsome!" Sure. That was the word he was thinking of.

"Everyone looks good in a military dress uniform," Steve demurred.

"Come to think of it, Rhodey and Carol do look pretty spiffy in them..." Tony, no.

Steve's eyebrows drew together. "Oh, really."

He was teasing, Steve! Mostly because Rhodey would sigh and Carol would never share.

"Might be the Air Force uniform..."

Steve poked him in the side. "You're hilarious."

"Does your uniform come with a hat? That might seal the deal for me," he teased.

"Do you mean 'does my uniform come with a hat you can steal and wear'?" Steve guessed.

"Well..." Yes. Exactly.

Steve laughed and kissed him between the eyes. "It does. You can wear it later."

"Consider me a sure thing for this date," Tony replied with a grin.

"Well, the lap-sitting had certainly given me some hope," Steve said.

"Helps that it's a very comfortable lap."

Steve laughed. "Good to know."

"But we shouldn't test it to conform or anything," Tony added. Because he could be possessive too.

"Maybe Carol could sit in my lap," Steve said.

Tony shot him a look like he would love to see Steve ask for that.

Steve gave him a sunny smile. "I think she'd be open."

"You are not funny, Captain Rogers," Tony replied, nipping at his throat.

"I'm a little funny," Steve protested.

"Not in the slightest." He was a little funny. Just not right now.

Steve pouted at him.

Tony rolled his eyes before kissing him. "Don't pout. But I'm not getting you any ice after she smacks you."

Through a wall. It would be epic.

"Carol wouldn't hit me," Steve believed optimistically.

"Jan wouldn't hit you," Tony replied. "Carol might. Hell, she'd probably smack me."

Then added a sly, "If Rhodey didn't do it first."

"Why would Rhodey do it?"

Steve. Steeeeeeeeeeeeeeve.

Tony shot him a pitying look. "Sweetheart."

"I'm missing something," Steve decided.

"Rhodey and Carol have been circling each other since they met," he said with a laugh. "Though, honestly. I was thinking Jan might get Carol first."

Still too hung up on Hank, though.

Steve blinked slowly. "I've been missing a lot."

"Told you the dating pool is incestuous," Tony teased. "He finally got the balls to ask her out recently."

"Did she say yes?" Steve asked.

"Made him sweat a little bit." Tony was grinning like it was the best thing in the world.

Steve snorted. "So she hasn't said anything yet?"

"Nope."

Poor, poor Rhodey.

"She's going to say yes, but winding him up is fun."

"That's kind of mean," Steve said with a little frown, "stringing him on like that."

"She's in space," Tony said dryly. "He asked her once she got back to SWORD."

Like a coward.

"Ohh, so he finked out," Steve said.

"Finked out?" Tony asked with a delighted laugh.

"Is that not something people say any more?"

No, it was not, Steve.

"No, no. Let me text this to Rhodey." Tony, no.

Steve put a hand over his eyes. "Tony, no."

Steve did not really mean it.

"He'll like it." He would not. He would wonder why he was friends with any of them.

Well, he probably wondered that a lot.

"Well, if he'll like it--"

"I'll tell him you said it." Again... Tony, no.

"I kind of figured you would," Steve admitted.

Tony beamed, putting his phone aside to kiss him for that. "Like he didn't tease me for dating you."

"He did?" Steve said. "Why? I have been reliably told by you that I am a catch."

"And he remembers scrawny teenage me with a crush on Captain America," he replied. "Not that he didn't have a little, patriotic man-crush on him too."

Steve blushed. "He did, too?"

"Oh, I think every boy with a dream of a military career had a little crush on you," Tony said, pinching his fingers together to show how much.

Steve blushed harder. "That explains Coulson," he admitted.

"You can't help your cute butt luring them all in," Tony assured him.

"That's really not as helpful as you might think," Steve mumbled.

Tony cracked up again, leaning into his side more heavily. "I don't know if I was trying for helpful or not," he admitted.

Steve blew a raspberry against his neck. "Thanks so much for that," he said dryly.

Which honestly did nothing to stop him from laughing. "Does it help that I'm pretty sure I've also been a sexual awakening for a different group of people?"

"Yes and no," Steve admitted.

"Little science nerds for me," Tony murmured, kissing him on the cheek. "Little military nerds for you."

"I don't know," Steve said, smiling. "You work on little military nerds, too."

"Only the cute ones," Tony replied. "Got me a collection of 'em. I've got my eye on just the one, though."

"Ooh, I hope it's me," Steve said, grinning.

"Could be," he teased, settling in against his side. "You are pretty cute. For a jarhead."

"I'm not a jarhead," Steve protested.

Tony laughed, brushing his fingers along Steve's chest. "Oh? What are you?"

Steve smiled fondly. "I'm a Howling Commando." He leaned in and kissed Tony's nose. "I'm an Avenger."

"I'll accept that," Tony decided magnanimously.

"How big of you," Steve teased.

"You love it."

"I really do," Steve admitted, kissing him. "Go razz Rhodey and then come back to me. I'll make it worth your while."

"Yes, yes. I'll tell him you say hi." And Steve could enjoy a long suffering text message of 'Really, Rogers?'

Apartment Above Stark Industries

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