Fic: There is no 'I'... 11/11
Chapter 11
If Clint solicitously offered Natasha another fruit cocktail she was going to blind him with it. Tony decided the exquisitely deadly woman might even be capable of maiming a man with an hors d’oeuvre if the rest of the team didn’t stop hovering quite so worriedly over her couch-bound figure. A punctured lung filled with blood was the final result of the battle with the crazy cult people and they were lucky, in a way, that Natasha’s had been the only critical injury.
Thirty-six hours later and the Avengers were finally back in the mansion. Washed, rested and bandaged, Nick Fury had given them all an almost-smile before returning to his usual glare. Thor had contrived with Jarvis to arrange a small party in order to celebrate Natasha’s not death and the saving of twenty-three civilians hijacked from an interstate bus four days prior to the attack on Central Park.
Tony smiled down at the untouched beer in his hand, listening as Thor tried to intervene on Clint’s behalf with Natasha while Bruce explained deoxyribonucleic acid to Cap. Pepper walked into the room talking to Coulson, something about a press conference in three days and needing flight schedules. Jarvis silently handed them both drinks and plates of food before moving over to rescue the canapé being crushed in Natasha’s delicate fingers.
Steve was frowning at Bruce in concentration. It wasn’t the science that was giving him trouble, but the modern terms of reference the doctor was using. The nuclear physicist, like several of the most brilliant people in their fields, was having trouble looking at an idea from the outside. It was a credit to Cap that he was absorbing half the thoughts Bruce was enthusiastically talking about. Tony only understood about one word in three on his best days.
It was the small frown that did it. Those two little creases somehow pushed Tony over an emotional hurdle, allowing him a glimpse into something that might have been peace. Seeing these people, seeing his friends so alive, so ready to help when needed was like a shiny little epiphany the color of the arc reactor. Tony felt a tension in his chest unknot. Strands of hurt unraveling, slipping away like watered silk, leaving him with an open, empty space aching to be filled. Taking a deep, lung expanding breath, Tony drew in the belonging and affection in the room and smiled.
It felt like giving up or giving in. A battle Tony hadn’t even known he was fighting was ending with that smile. He let go and allowed himself an indulgence of joy he’d not dared touch since Afghanistan.
God, he was in love with Steve.
The man so perfectly made in his soul he endured having his body remade to match. A wry sense of humor mingled with passionate intensity in combat. An off-key boisterous laugh that brought out the silver in clear blue eyes and quick graceful hands that ran charcoal over paper with greater accuracy than the spinning of his shield.
Tony knew he wasn’t the first and most definitely not the last person to fall in love with Captain America. But the idea of reciprocation didn’t really factor in to this revelation. The broken, damaged thing in his chest was capable of love like this. Pepper with her little glass box and her deep abiding friendship had started Tony on a road that ended here.
He loved Steve Rogers.
And it was all in his smile.
Cap glanced in his direction at that precise moment, fingers raised to scratch idly at his shoulder, mouth open to ask Bruce a question.
Tony didn’t bother to hide his expression. It was too late anyway, Steve had frozen with a stunned look the moment their eyes met and without a word to Bruce broke away from the corner and crossed the room. A small kernel of panic turned in Tony’s stomach at the intent look on Cap’s face. There was no answering smile, no enquiring eyebrow or rolled eyes, just a dozen steps and Tony’s view of the room blocked by broad shoulders and hair that glinted golden in the light.
A little desperately, Tony steadied his stance and raised his own brows flirtatiously. “So, if you’re free on Friday…”
The rest of Tony’s question was cut off as Steve pushed one hand into Tony’s hair; the other fisted in his four thousand dollar shirt and pulled him into a searing kiss. The sound of Tony’s beer bottle thumping to the floor was the only noise in the paralyzing silence of the room.
Hands free, Tony caught at the back of Steve’s neck and waist for balance as he was almost lifted off his feet. Steve’s mouth tasted like beer, his tongue curling and pressing against Tony’s while he pulled them close enough to almost occupy the same space. It was wicked and delicious with Tony hanging on for dear life and praying to any god that would listen that Steve meant this and hadn’t simply lost his mind.
He was released for a split second to catch some air, then as his surprisingly dominant Captain bent back to the task of obliterating Tony’s brain he dimly heard Clint say, “Banner, what do you mean you had no idea? Even I knew and my gay-dar was declared broken years ago.”
“Shut up, Clint.” Natasha said, her voice filled with unmistakable glee. “Tony, for god’s sake! Get a room.”
Tony would have pointed out that he was hardly the one making the decisions in this embrace, but since he was being kissed and pawed by Captain America he was actually incapable of thought, let alone speech.
Steve pulled back fractionally, one hand between Tony’s shoulder blades, the other indisputably on his ass.
“Goodnight,” he said, their mouths millimeters apart, before walking Tony backwards into the hallway. A momentary pause at the kitchen door for an astonished Tony to see Jarvis happily hand-wave them on and then he was stumbling slightly into the master bedroom.
“Did you just get Jarvis’ permission to…” Tony managed to begin.
“Sure did.” Steve confirmed kicking the door closed.