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Five Times Steve Was Confused by the Modern World...

Chapter Text

The great irony was that Steve never even liked ice, or being cold in general. He’d been a sickly child, and by the time he was ten, he’d learned to associate “cold” with mind-numbing fevers and trembling chills through his weak body. In fact, one of the biggest problems his mom had faced in Depression-Era New York was keeping the house warm enough for an ill child while not burning through the little money she had.

Steve missed her. He wondered if she would be proud of him, of how he’d turned out. If she’d be proud of Steve, or like everyone else, she’d only see Captain America.

He looked around him at the sparse SHIELD living area they’d assigned to him. Today was the one-week anniversary of the day (or if you want to get technical about it, the night) he’d been revived, been rescued, been defrosted, whatever you want to call it. He deserved a medal, he told himself, for making it an entire seven days without going batshit crazy.

The fact that he’d been asleep for the last 66 years was mind-fucking enough in itself, but then he was abruptly expected to adjust to a time that was only a few decades after the time he was born, but had advanced so much, he could almost have been persuaded that he was on a different planet entirely. Maybe some advanced technological version of Heaven. It was only the sight of the familiar New York streets (although ‘familiar’ was somewhat stretching it) that convinced him he was still on Earth.

Steve turned his head to look at the clock next to his bed. It was nothing like the clocks he was used to, a small rectangular box that actually showed the time in bright glaring red, instead of having hands that helped you figure out the time yourself. They called it a digital clock, because apparently everything in this century was digitized, but it wasn’t too jarring to get used to.

5:21:33. The clock was accurate to the second, which was probably the reason SHIELD used it. Either way, it was too early in the morning for anyone to be awake. Steve sighed and heaved himself off the bed, knowing he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. Maybe a nice, long, intense session in the gym would help him clear his head.

Steve was on his fourth punching bag when Nick Fury walked in. Were gyms so out of vogue in this century that all the equipment in them were so easily breakable? Or had he just underestimated his strength after remaining dormant for 70 years?

He’d hit the poor bag over and over, memories slipping in and out of his head like fish.

Bucky’s death. Punch.

Peggy’s last words to him. Punch.

The few seconds before the plane crashed into the ice. Punch.

“Oh my god. This guy’s still alive!”

Steve punched the bag so hard it split in half and flew clean off the hook, landing on the opposite wall with a trail of fine sand following it. Steve had stared at it for a few seconds, before shaking his head and pulling up number 5.

“Couldn’t sleep?” asked Fury presently, somehow making Steve feel even angrier.

“I slept for 70 years, sir, I think I’ve had my fill,” he said shortly, desperate to end the conversation, but also being polite. Never let it be said that Sarah Rogers raised a rude boy.

Steve could hardly imagine the repercussions of that one conversation, how it would affect his entire future. But when Nick Fury handed him a file, a picture of the Tesseract clipped front and center, Steve knew he would do whatever it took to help Fury and SHIELD retrieve the thing, his personal problems be damned.




Back in his day, soldiers returning from war had a sort of re-initiation process. They were taught how to be civilians again, how to adjust to normal life after all they’d been through. That was apparently another thing that had changed in this century.

This was the hardest war he’d ever fought. It was longer, tougher and more intense than any HYDRA or Nazi agent he’d faced. Tony Stark had sacrificed himself and almost died in the process, making Steve’s heart stop for a few seconds.

And even after all that, everyone casually got together to eat some new-fangled food they’d called “shawarma” or some such foreign word. They were seated around a plastic table in their uniforms, eating quietly like this was an everyday occurrence. And then everyone had split up and gone to their respective homes. And that was it. Nothing else.

Steve found it doubly hard returning to his empty apartment after the battle, dragging his feet through the ruined streets and debris from the battle. Fury had told all of them very explicitly to stay away from the clean-up efforts, saying their presence would be more of a hindrance than a help, considering the attention the six of them drew.

Steve’s apartment felt cold and empty, perfectly mirroring Steve’s feelings. He took a long shower, leaning his head against the wall and running his mind over the events of the last few days. Things had happened so fast, he’d barely had the time to process anything.

Would they have a funeral for Coulson? The man seemed to be a pretty high-ranking officer at SHIELD, and he seemed like the type to have a family, although Steve hadn’t noticed a wedding ring. If there wasn’t going to be a funeral, SHIELD should maybe hold a memorial, at the very least. Coulson deserved it.

Steve felt lonely as he stepped out of the shower, the empty apartment mocking him. It was hard to be alone after spending a full week in the company of the other Avengers. Maybe they weren’t friends, but they were teammates, weren’t they? And he was their leader. Should he go check up on them?

He dismissed the idea almost as quickly as he thought of it. He didn’t know his way around New York, not anymore. He vaguely knew where Stark Tower was, and that was it. He wasn’t going to lose himself in the big city on a whim. He’d just fought the largest battle of his life, and he was going to take a nap. Hopefully, this one wouldn’t last for 70 years.




Steve was no genius, he wasn’t anywhere near Howard Stark’s level of smart, but he wasn’t an idiot either. He was good enough at school to get a scholarship to art school, and then the serum had somehow amplified his brain so he’d gained an eidetic memory, better art skills, and proper tactical and strategic thinking skills, the kind a soldier would need. So no, Steve wasn’t dumb.

He had to keep reminding himself of that several times a day, when he was mystified by the smallest things in this new world. The first week, he was mainly indoors, with SHIELD agents giving him a rundown of all the major events of the last half century, looking up information on their mechanical drawing boards. Soon after that, he was occupied with Loki and the Chitauri. Now though, with nothing to occupy his time, he began to realize exactly how out of the loop he really was.

Steve tried, he really did. He walked out on the street, hoping to meet someone nice and friendly to start a conversation with. He was never the best at that, but he felt so lonely he was willing to try anything. But everyone just passed him by without so much as looking up. Everyone was absorbed in the little black rectangles they held in their hands, moving their thumbs over the surface in unpredictable ways. Fury had told him that these were modern telephones, but Steve couldn’t really accept that. Where were the dials for the numbers? Where were the wires connecting the devices to the phone lines?

Some people had little white strings dangling from their ears. These strings joined together and then joined the telephone - no, mobile phone, Fury called them. Steve’s altruistic, Captain America nature always pushed him to approach these people, offering his help. They must be very hard of hearing to have to wear such cumbersome devices on the street. But he refrained, afraid of offending them, not knowing what social etiquette was normal in this century for the deaf.

Steve’s morning walk usually took him to the same cafe a few blocks down from his apartment. He’d picked it carefully: the proprietors were a nice elderly couple, and there were no young waitresses he’d be forced to talk to. They had his order ready perfectly on time, every day, knowing Steve would come in like clockwork. Steve would take his coffee and muffin to a table in the back, and try to avoid catching anyone’s eye (or being caught in anyone’s eye.)

It was on his eighth or so morning that his routine was interrupted. He’d barely started on his muffin when the Iron Man, Tony Stark, dropped into the seat opposite him.

Tony was wearing dark glasses and a jacket with the cap pulled over his head. He’d heard Agent Romanoff call it a ‘hoodie’ at some point. It was casual, relaxed; the opposite of Stark’s usual dress style. Then again, he’d only seen the man for about a week, how could Steve know what was usual for him?

“It’s dangerous being so predictable, Cap,” said Tony. “You’ve come here every day, at the same time, for what, two weeks now?”

“Are you spying on me, Stark?” asked Steve lowly, enraged at the idea of Tony knowing this about him. Some SHIELD agent had told him that the world was more highly monitored now, but he hadn’t thought it would be to this extent.

Tony just shrugged in response. “I’ve got eyes everywhere, Cap. It’s one of the perks of being me.” He looked in distaste at Steve’s dry muffin. “Believe me, this isn’t much fun for me either.”

“Why are you here, Stark?” asked Steve, polite but firm. He had no interest in starting a conversation with Tony Stark. Besides, if he stayed too long, his routine would be thrown off.

“I have a proposal for you, Captain,” said Tony, suddenly much more business-like. “Fury suggested it would be best for all of us - and by ‘us’ I mean the Avengers - to stay together, stay close. Sort of like our own clubhouse. In case of any emergencies and such.”

“An Avengers Headquarters,” mumbled Steve. “That’s smart.”

“Yeah, well. Fury’s plan was to dump us all into those god awful SHIELD apartments, like the one you have, but I’m not leaving my tower. I refuse to. It’s my baby.”

Steve rolled his eyes. Of course a good plan like the Avengers Headquarters would be scrapped because of Stark’s stubbornness.

“Don’t give up on me yet, big guy, I’m not done,” said Tony, noticing Steve rolling his eyes. Steve blushed. Gosh, that was rude. If she could, his mother would reach out from the grave and smack him silly for being rude to a nice man.

“I’m very sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you,” said Steve sincerely. He could see Tony’s eyes follow him curiously, about to make another snarky remark, but thankfully he didn’t follow through.

“My proposal being, you and the rest of the team could move into Stark Towers and live with me. Well it wouldn’t technically be living with me, because I’ve designed all of you your own floors with everything you’ll need. I grew out of needing roommates after I left college.” Tony snorted, but Steve could see he was quite desperate for him to say yes. And honestly, how could Steve say no? The man had gone through all the trouble of designing not only individual rooms, but floors. He’d given up his own home to the Avengers, and to refuse now would just be rude. Steve Rogers was many things but he was not rude.

“I, uh...I think that’s great. I’d love that,” said Steve awkwardly, suddenly feeling himself get tongue-tied. He was always a bit awkward, but it seemed to get worse around Tony. Apparently, some things even super-soldier serum couldn’t fix.

“Oh goody. One down, four more to go,” said Tony, rolling his eyes but smiling at Steve all the same. “Thanks for that, Cap. The others will be much easier to convince if they know you’re there.”

“Shouldn’t SHIELD be helping you recruit them?” asked Steve shyly, feeling uncomfortable with voicing his own question.

“They should, but,” Tony sighed and got up to leave. “I despise the idiots at SHIELD so I’d rather do the grunt work myself.” He slid a money note, something that looked like a 20-dollar bill, towards Steve and strode away. “Breakfast’s on me.”

Chapter Text

That was how, exactly a week later, Steve found himself in his new bedroom in Stark Tower, holding one solitary box that contained all his worldly belongings. He didn’t own much, just a few clothes and some of his personal items from the 40s that a few kindly agents had scraped together for him.

He set the box down and looked around the room. His new room. The place was bigger than the apartment he’d lived in growing up, where Steve and his ma often huddled together for warmth. The room was about the same size as his entire SHIELD apartment. And it was just one room.

As he wandered around exploring, Steve felt a hopeless sense of confusion. Stark had installed a gym, two large bathrooms, a kitchen and even a guest room, although Steve had no idea who would use it. Everything on his floor was so sleek and modern, it seemed to have come out of some futuristic comic book. Steve sat on the plush couch, burying his head in his hands. You are in the future, he reminded himself, trying to calm down.

It didn’t help. He could feel his heart beat faster and faster, his breathing become quicker. This might be normal to most people, but to Steve, it was completely and utterly terrifying. He had no idea how to use half of the items around him, and had no idea what the other half even were. The future was scary, and if Steve had a choice, at that moment he would rather be buried in the ice.

Steve heard a soft ding, like a bell ring in front of him. He looked up, only to see what he thought were a set of cupboard doors open smoothly to reveal Tony behind them. Steve gaped in amazement.

“Hey, Cap. How’re you settling in?” asked Tony. Steve looked at him, still in awe.

“Elevators look so much better now,” said Steve in way of an answer, his eyes wide. “When I was a kid, they used to scare me so bad, ‘cause they creaked and rocked and you thought you’d be dead before you got up a single floor.”

Tony laughed. “Yeah, that doesn’t happen anymore.”

“This century is so confusing,” mumbled Steve to himself before catching Tony’s eye. “Thank you for all this, Stark. It’s a nice place.”

“Yeah, well, thank Fury,” said Tony dismissively. “The others are on the floors below you, if you want to go visit. So far there’s only you and Nat, but with a little poking I think I can get Brucie to agree too. Legolas says he’ll ‘split his time’ between here and wherever he’s currently living, for reasons he won’t tell me, and Thor’s promised to stay over anytime he’s not on Asgard or smooching his girlfriend, so you’re pretty well set for neighbors. And then of course, you have me.”

Tony flashed Steve a brilliant smile, making the soldier blush and get all tongue-tied again. Why did Tony always have that effect on him? He didn’t even like him!

“If you need me, you can always call, Cap,” said Tony, already walking towards the shiny elevator. “And feel free to ask for anything you want.”

Steve just managed to stutter a “Thanks, Tony,” before Tony waved at him and walked away.




Steve spent his first few days indoors, traveling from his room to the gym to the kitchen, and back to his room. He had no way of entertaining himself, and at one point he was reduced to drawing a few sketches on his arms, not having anything to draw on. He didn’t want to ask Tony for anything, afraid of offending his host, and he was growing extremely bored. None of the others were in the Tower yet, or he would have risked the shiny elevator to try and find them.

On his fourth day or so of captivity, just as he was going crazy from being stuck inside for so long, Tony popped up on his floor again. Steve was so grateful for the company, he actually smiled at the man.

“Cap, JARVIS tells me you haven’t left the tower at all since you got here. Everything okay?”

Steve was confused. “Who’s Jarvis?”

Tony blushed. “Oh, ah, no one,” he said confusedly. “It’s expression people use.”

Steve accepted that. He wasn’t in any way up to date on modern slang.

“Nice tattoos,” commented Tony, nodding at the artistic designs all over Steve’s arms. “You get those online?”

“I, uh, don’t know what ‘online’ means,” said Steve ashamedly. “No, I drew these myself. I didn’t have anything to draw on, so…” Steve trailed off, aware that he sounded extremely ungrateful. Tony simply stared back, his eyes wide.

“You drew those?” he asked incredulously. Steve nodded. “You’ve got some real talent there, Cap. You should’ve asked, I’d have got you some art supplies.”

Steve blushed hotly, Tony’s caring tone making his brain stutter. “I didn’t want don’t have to spend any more money than you already have on me, Tony.”

Tony laughed, a pure, simple laugh that had Steve’s chest doing backflips for reasons he couldn’t comprehend. “Captain, hon, it’s not the Depression anymore. And even if it was, I’m what they call a billionaire. Buying you a few art supplies isn’t going to make a dent in my wallet, I promise you.”

Steve stayed quiet, not knowing what to say. Tony’s eyes swept across the room, taking in the immaculate, untouched devices and coming to rest on Steve’s scribbled arms.

“Is that all you’ve been doing for the past week? Sitting in here and drawing on your arms?” asked Tony sadly, although Steve could see no reason for that. “I’m sorry, Steve.”

“For what?” asked Steve, confused.

“I shouldn’t have left you alone for so long. New place and all, it would be scary for anyone. And you must’ve been bored out of your mind, I’m really sorry.” Tony shook his head. “Why wouldn’t you, I dunno, watch TV or play Minecraft or something? And please don’t say something stupid like you wanted to save on the electricity bill.”

“” started Steve, not knowing where his sentence was going. “You have a television in here?” he said, electing to ignore the second part of the sentence. It’s what he always did when people used pop-culture references around him. He looked around, wondering how he’d missed a box so conspicuously large. Tony rolled his eyes.

“This, Cap,” he said, and out of nowhere, the large flat black box that opposite Steve’s couch came to life. Steve stared at it curiously. Neither he nor Bucky could ever have dreamed of affording a television, even if they were common to buy in the 30's. This was not what he remembered them looking like.

“I suppose this is the wrong time to teach you how TVs work,” sighed Tony, watching Steve curiously inspect the 64-inch screen, a smile playing on his face. Steve turned to look at him, shyly.

“I...I never owned one before, I wouldn’t have known how to use it. Nobody in our neighborhood did. One time, Buc- a friend of mine and I walked all the way to the richer part of Brooklyn so we could peek into windows and watch the rich people watching television.” His voice turned softer, sadder; the way it always did when he thought about Bucky. He felt tears start to his eyes, but forced them down, looking Tony in the eye.

“Well, you didn’t miss much, Cap.” said Tony cheerfully. “People barely watch TV now anyway.”

Steve was dumbfounded. “Why not?”

“We’ve got our phones for everything,” said Tony, holding up his shiny black mobile phone. “Plus, computers and things. It’s not that we don’t ever watch TV, I’m just saying we don’t watch too much of it.” Steve was even more confused, but kept his mouth shut.

Tony shook his head and blinked rapidly. His hair fluttered all over his face, giving him a scruffy look that almost took Steve’s breath away. “Anyway...I came up here to see if you’d want to join the rest of the team for dinner. Thor and Barton are both here, and Fury thought it might be good for morale if we did more together.” Tony rolled his eyes, but Steve could see he was gearing up for this dinner. To be honest, Steve was quite excited too.

“Yeah, I’d love to join you guys. Just give me a few minutes to clean up?”

“I have to go set some stuff up, but join us on the seventeenth floor, when you’re done okay?” Steve nodded hesitantly, and Tony got up to leave. “See ya later, Cap,” he called, ruffling Steve’s hair as he left, and Steve was left alone to wonder why his cheeks were so red.

Chapter Text

Steve went up half an hour later, having changed his clothes and neatly combed his hair. He had a bit of trouble using the elevator, but not much; the basics were still the same. He wandered uncertainty around, following the noise until he came to a large dining room where the rest of the team was seated, along with Nick Fury and Pepper Potts. He smiled shyly at her, always having had a liking for the strong-willed woman, before waving slightly at everyone else.

“Hey, look, Cap’s here!” shouted Tony happily, waving the man over.

“Welcome, Captain!” thundered Thor, who was more relaxed than Steve had ever seen him before. But then again, Steve had only seen him in the middle of battle before, and never on a social call.

Natasha and Clint called their hellos too, and Steve joined in the conversation. Everyone was more relaxed than he’d known they could be, and dressed much more casually then he could ever remember seeing them. In fact, they were maybe dressed a little too casually.

Steve stroked his tie, looking at the others’ clothes in confusion. Everyone seemed to have dressed down, wearing simple t-shirts and plain jeans. Tony was wearing what he’d learned were called ‘sweatpants’, and even Nick Fury, under his ever-present black trench coat, wore a casual black tee and black jeans, which made Steve, in his full suit and tie, stand out even more.

Nobody mentioned it, although Steve did notice a few confused stares from the rest of the team. He brought it up when they were halfway through the million or so pizza boxes Tony had ordered. (Which was another thing; the pizza in the 20th century was so very different to the one time he’d tried pizza in Italy during the war. Did Americans know their pizza wasn’t authentic, or had the Italians just completely flipped their recipe?)

“Tony,” he asked quietly, not yet feeling comfortable enough with the others to ask them such a potentially embarrassing question. “I don’t mean any offense but, um, why isn’t anyone dressed up?”

Tony looked at him, confused. “When I said, dinner, Cap, I didn’t mean anything fancy. I just meant an informal pizza and such. I’m sorry, I should have made that clear. Not that you don’t look good, though,” he said, eyeing Steve’s ensemble appreciatively. Steve blushed.

“No, but still,” he insisted, averting his eyes. What was Tony doing to him? “Why aren’t you dressed up to eat? My ma would’ve been furious if I came to dinner dressed like that. No offense,” he said hurriedly.

“You old man,” laughed Barton from where he had been eavesdropping. “That’s a thing people used to do in the forties, isn’t it? Dress up for dinner? We don’t do that anymore, Captain. We like to be comfortable now.”

“Oh,” said Steve, blushing as everybody laughed. “Okay, in my defense, I haven’t exactly had a chance to associate with anybody dressed in civilian clothes since I woke up. All the SHIELD agents dressed up for work, I figured that was normal still.”

“Easy mistake to make, Cap,” said Tony, patting his shoulder.

“My apologies, Captain.” grunted Fury from his corner. “My team was so busy with Loki and the Tesseract, I ignored my duties towards you. I should have assigned someone to help you adjust better.”

“Yeah, well, now you have us, Steve,” said Romanoff kindly. “You can ask us for anything you need to know about the twentieth century.”

“Thank you,” said Steve, sincerely.

“And that goes for all of us,” said Tony, clapping Steve on the back. “Wait ‘til I can teach you how to use Twitter!”




The Avengers slowly grew closer, an inevitable consequence when people are forced to live together. As they each had their own floor, there were no petty roommate squabbles, but somehow everyone accepted that they would eat dinner together at least once a week. Thor couldn’t be relied on to be around, and Barton only popped up on odd days of the week, but when he was around, they always gathered on the seventeenth floor, just to sit, eat and talk.

The seventeenth floor also happened to be Pepper and Tony’s floor, which for some reason made Steve very uncomfortable. Or not uncomfortable, per se, but he could never relax as much there as he did when he hung around with Natasha and Bruce on their floors. Which was confusing because Steve had suddenly developed an irrational desire to be around Tony at all times. He had no idea why.

Still, Steve was adjusting to his new home pretty well. Tony, true to his word, had had a crate full of the highest quality art supplies Steve could ever imagine brought to Steve’s room, and Steve spent hours every day doodling, sketching, painting or doing anything he fancied at the moment.

He’d also started going for a run in the mornings, jogging for an hour or so around New York before coming back to finish off with a nice long workout. His art, combined with his new friends and the fact that he wasn’t cooped up indoors or in a tiny apartment anymore, made him feel a lot better. He still hadn’t adjusted to the twenty-first century, not properly, but he couldn’t deny he was much happier than he was even a few weeks ago.

A little into their time living together, Natasha suggested having team movie nights. Steve and Tony both voiced their objections, Tony claiming he was too busy, and Steve saying it would be too conspicuous for the Avengers to go to a movie theater together.

Everyone turned to give him what he’d started calling The Look. The Look was what he got any time he displayed ignorance about something that seemed to be basic knowledge for them, and it varied from a sympathetic smile from Natasha and Bruce, to outright amusement from Tony and Clint. Yes, he had gotten comfortable enough with them to use their first names now.

“Rogers, we don’t need to go to a theater when we have a TV,” snorted Clint, and Steve facepalmed. How had he forgotten that? “Besides, Stark probably has his own private theater here. I would, if I had all his cash.”

“I actually do, Barton,” said Tony, smugly, and Steve giggled as Clint rolled his eyes.

“That’s settled, then,” said Natasha, rising to her feet. “It’s team movie night, and yes, Tony I expect you to be there.”

She left gracefully, and Tony stuck his tongue out at the door behind her, clearly not excited about having to give up work that night. Steve looked forward to it though; he hadn’t watched a movie in over 70 years, and he wanted to see how much they had changed. He spent the rest of the day with Clint, trying to explain the concept of a ‘movie’ to Thor.

At night, the three of them made their way to Tony’s private theater, Steve and Thor relying on Clint for directions that he read off his shiny phone. Steve should get a phone, they seemed pretty useful. He instinctively pulled out his notebook, scribbling Get a phone? at the bottom of his admittedly long list of modern things he still had to do or catch up on.

Tony’s “theater” was much more comfortable and homey, and yet more modern than Steve had ever expected. There were several large beanbags on the floor, instead of the usual uncomfortable seats, and the screen was so large he could barely look at it all. The beanbags were so big that Natasha and Bruce immediately settled on one together to get a prime view of the screen, while Thor needed an entire bag to himself, and Clint claimed one as well, leaving Steve to sit with Tony.

Although maybe sit with wasn’t an accurate term; Tony was mostly sitting on him. Steve could barely concentrate on the movie, interesting as it seemed. He was too busy focusing on the awareness of Tony’s leg resting on his thigh, on the heat of Tony’s body pressed against his. About halfway through the movie, Tony fell asleep, his head drooping onto Steve’s shoulder, and Steve barely dared to breathe, afraid of waking the man up. Tony’s hair tickled his cheek and Steve nuzzled softly into the sensation, feeling more at peace than he had in a long time. He didn’t know why.

Chapter Text

Steve was bored. He’d been pottering around in his floor, not really in the mood to do anything. Natasha and Thor were on a mission for SHIELD, Clint was gone wherever he went during his absences and both Bruce and Tony he knew were working in their respective labs.

He could have just turned the television on, or played around with any of the million art supplies Tony had so generously provided for him, but what he really wanted was company. Steeling himself, he decided to see if Tony would be willing to let Steve hang around with him for a while. He entered the elevator, sketchbook in hand, before he realized he had no idea on which floor Tony’s lab was on. He stayed motionless inside the elevator for a few moments, wondering what to do, when a disembodied voice sounded all around him, nearly making him die of fright.

“Where may I take you, Captain Rogers?”

Steve spun around wildly, looking for an intruder even though he knew he was quite alone in the small elevator.

“Who...who are you?!”

“My name is JARVIS, Captain Rogers,” said the voice. “I assume based on your reaction that Mr. Stark has not told you about me.”

“You haven’t come up in conversation, no,” said Steve agitatedly, still trying to find the source of the voice. “Where are you? What are you?!”

“Captain, your blood pressure is reaching dangerously high levels. I recommend relaxing and taking deep breaths.”

Steve was freaking out , as Tony liked to say. Far from reassuring him, the voice’s comments about his blood pressure only scared him more. All his instincts told him to leave the elevator and run to the safety of his bed but he resisted, afraid that the voice would follow him there too.

“Captain Rogers?” said the voice again, sounding somewhat concerned. “Your heart rate has spiked and you are on the verge of hyperventilating. May I do something to assist you?”

“Take me to Tony,” said Steve, his voice sounding hollow and agitated even to himself. “What floor is Tony in, just uh...I want to go there.”

“Certainly, Captain,” said the voice respectfully, and then went silent as the elevator moved downwards. Steve breathed in deeply, trying to catch his breath. The elevator ride seemed to take forever but Steve concentrated on breathing in and breathing out, half-terrified that the voice would start speaking again.

He stumbled out of the elevator as soon as the doors opened, not even pausing to wonder how he’d gotten to the specific floor without pressing any buttons.

He was faced with a pair of large, and clearly locked, glass doors, and he paused to catch his mind. His thoughts were racing and he looked nervously over his shoulder, terrified that the voice would have followed him out.

He stayed there, panting and unmoving for what seemed like an hour but was only a couple of seconds, before Tony barged out of the suddenly open doors.

“Cap, hey, JARVIS told me he freaked you out a bit,” said Tony, his voice cheerful but soft, and Steve was in it enough to realize it was for his benefit. “I should have introduced you to him sooner, it was my fault, really.”

Steve shook his head, pulling himself out of his funk. “The voice in the elevator...that’s an actual person?”

“Kind of, but no,” said Tony, leading Steve into his lab. “He’s an AI I invented.”


“Stands for artificial intelligence. He’s a computer program, but he can think and talk and make decisions for himself.”

Steve raised his eyebrows. “I just got used to the fact that computers can calculate pi to the millionth digit, and now you’re telling me they can talk and think like humans?”

“Not all of them,” laughed Tony. “JARVIS is pretty advanced, even for today’s standards. He’s installed everywhere in the Tower, and runs everything. That’s a long way away for most people.”

“Then how come I haven’t met him before?” demanded Steve. “He very nearly gave me a heart attack there, Tony.”

Tony had the grace to blush. “I disabled him on your floor, and whenever you visit the others. I figured he was something I had to introduce you to slowly.”

“I apologize if I startled you, Captain,” said JARVIS smoothly, and Steve turned again to figure out where his voice was coming from. “In my defense, I did believe you had already been warned about me.”

“I clearly didn’t, J,” grumbled Tony, looking back at Steve. “He’s everywhere Cap, don’t overthink it. Imagine he’s like...God, but he can actually talk to you.”

“That about sums it up,” said Steve faintly. He looked around Tony’s lab, staring at everything. He’d been too freaked out when he first entered to notice, but this place looked like an inventor’s Candyland. He didn’t know what half of the things around him were, but there were random tools scattered everywhere, futuristic-looking holograms and blue lights and computer screens shining all around him, and Steve stared open-mouthed in wonder.

“So why’d you come down here, anyway?” asked Tony suddenly, pulling Steve’s attention back to him. Steve blushed.

“It’s nothing important, Tony, I just uh...wanted to see if you needed company.”

Tony laughed at that, and Steve felt a wave of pleasure rush over him. It felt good, making Tony laugh.

“Did you really want to check on me, or did you want company yourself?” teased Tony, and Steve blushed harder. “I actually am a little busy, Cap, but you’re welcome to hang out here if you want.”

Steve accepted shyly, following Tony around as he gave him a tour. The lab looked like something straight out of some sci-fi novel and Steve took everything in eagerly. He settled himself on a soft couch when Tony returned to his work, drawing everything and anything he could see. He sketched Tony’s sweet little robot pets, Dum-E and Butterfingers he called them, and the sleek perfection of the newest Iron Man suits. He drew the holographic lights emitting from every corner of the lab, and an abstract image of what he imagined JARVIS would look like. They were all perfect and aesthetically pleasing, and some of the best things he’d ever drawn.

Even with all that, his favorite sketches were the ones he drew of Tony. Tony bent over a table, puzzling over a blueprint; Tony welding shut a new Iron Man suit; the excitement and pride in Tony’s eyes as he explained all of his creations to Steve. Steve put all of these on paper and pinned them up on his bedroom walls, telling himself that these were simply his best works. He didn’t want to think about why the sight of Tony’s face first thing in the morning made him feel happier than he’d had in a long time.

Chapter Text

It was only natural, really, that Steve and Tony would grow closer as time went by. They were always the ones paired together during team activities, and on the field, it was like they could read each other's mind for how well they worked together. After Steve’s little adventure with Jarvis, Tony had even taken it upon himself to teach Steve the intricacies of modern life, something that Steve would forever be grateful for.

Tony took Steve out to a ball game the first day they were both free, which Steve appreciated much more when he realized Tony had absolutely no interest in sports. Still, baseball seemed to be the one thing that hadn’t changed much since the 1940's, and it helped him mentally relax a little, possibly for the first time since he’d woken up.

It became a bit of a routine, Tony and Steve going out together. Tony took him everywhere and anywhere he thought would help Steve acclimatize. Right now, Steve’s floor in the Tower was decorated with souvenirs from the Smithsonian, the MoMA, the Natural History Museum and more.

Steve’s most memorable afternoon with Tony was when he was learning how to use the internet. Tony had learned by now that Steve was exceptionally smart and picked up new ideas quickly, and the internet was no exception. Steve whizzed through Tony’s explanations of YouTube and Google and emails and Twitter, even setting up his own email account and sending his first official tweet, much to Tony’s pride.

“Google is the best part of this century,” said Steve wondrously as Tony watched him with a smile. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that everything humans ever knew, the sum total of all their was all at his fingertips.

“I thought I was the best part of this century,” said Tony with a smirk. Steve waved it away, googling more and more outrageous questions to see if he could find Google’s limits.

“Tony, did you know that Pluto and Russia have almost the same surface area?” asked Steve with a gasp. “I remember when Pluto was discovered, everyone thought it was a really big deal. And now it’s about smaller than a country on earth.”

Tony shrugged. “That’s why they call it a dwarf planet, I guess,” he said, amused at Steve’s enthusiasm.

“I still don’t think that’s fair,” grumbled Steve. He’d been shocked when, at the Smithsonian, he'd discovered that Pluto was no longer a planet, and complained about it to Tony all the way back home. “Just ‘cause something’s smaller than it should be, doesn’t mean it’s useless,” he’d ranted as Tony listened. “I mean, look at me!”

Presently, Tony looked at his phone as he received a text. “Cap, JARVIS seems a little annoyed at the fact that you think Google is so great and he isn’t,” he said, amused. Steve stopped googling immediately.

“I’m so sorry, JARVIS,” he said sincerely, looking around at the walls. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“No offense taken, Captain Rogers,” said JARVIS coolly, and Steve had to hide a smile. JARVIS was definitely offended.

“What do you think people Google the most?” asked Steve, ignoring JARVIS. Tony simply shrugged, absorbed in an email.

“I dunno. Google it.”

And that was how Steve Rogers was introduced to porn, and his favorite memory of the twenty-first century would always be Tony’s embarrassed blush and squeaking apologies as two naked men rolled around in the hay in front of them, JARVIS conveniently hindering any of his attempts to turn it off. Steve was rolling around too, on the floor laughing.

When Tony finally got the screen to go blank, he turned to face Steve who now had tears of laughter streaming down his face. “I’m sorry, Cap, you weren’t meant to see that, shit...JARVIS why was SafeSearch off?!”

“Maybe you should ask Google that, sir,” said JARVIS nonchalantly. Tony stuck his middle finger up at the ceiling, something that Steve knew was an obscene gesture, but he didn’t know what it meant.

“I swear the next time I have the chance, I’m selling you to MIT,” threatened Tony.

“You do that, sir,” said JARVIS, still unconcerned, as Tony turned his attention back to Steve.

“I’m really sorry, Cap, I didn’t mean for you to see that,” he said awkwardly, stumbling over his words. He seemed much more embarrassed than the situation warranted, but before Steve could say anything, he swept away from the room, apologizing constantly, leaving Steve behind.

Tony avoided him the whole day after that little incident, staying very well away from him. Steve was confused, and, he could admit it, a little hurt at that. He knew what porn was, even if he’d never actually watched it before. And it was Steve’s fault, he was the one who’d gone hunting for it. Tony had done nothing wrong, which made Steve even more confused. Luckily, tonight was the team’s scheduled dinner-and-movie night. Hopefully he could catch up with Tony then. Right?

Steve spent the rest of his day holed up in his room, sketching. He drew Tony as he was today, with that pretty red blush on his face. For anybody else, drawing the same subject over and over again a million times would have been exhausting and possibly a little creepy, but this was Tony. There was always something fresh and new about him, a singular dimple that Steve hadn’t noticed before, or the twinkling in his eyes when Dum-E spiked Steve’s milkshake with motor oil. Besides, it was never possible to have too much of Tony Stark.

Steve was so caught up in his drawing, he barely noticed the time fly by. He flew into Tony’s floor ten minutes late, when every one else was already gathered there.

“Ah, Captain! It is good to see you!” cried Thor happily, like he hadn’t seen Steve just this morning.

“Great to see you too, Thor,” he mumbled, scanning the room for Tony. He sighed in relief when he saw Tony seated in his usual spot, and made a beeline for the empty seat next to him. Plopping into the chair, he breathed heavily, trying to catch his breath.

“Nice to see you’re on time, Cap,” drawled Nick Fury from a corner. Steve hadn’t noticed him before and immediately sat straight up, his posture stiff. That soldier’s training was hard to forget.

“Evening, sir,” he said quickly. “It’s good to see you too.” He coughed. “I, uh, wasn’t expecting you here.”

“Relax, Steve,” laughed Natasha. “He’s just here to eat, nobody’s talking business.”

Steve visibly relaxed. Not that he didn’t like Fury, but there was something about dragging Avengers business into Avengers family time that didn’t feel right. He made some casual small talk with Fury and Hill until the food arrived.

“How’s SHIELD been running?” Tony asked Fury. Steve glanced at him. He still hadn’t so much as acknowledged Steve’s presence, but they could fix it later. Tony was always willing to fix it.

“SHIELD’s doing fine. Pierce has been acting a bit oddly, but we’re running a smooth ship otherwise.”

“It’s really great that you’re the Director,” said Steve sincerely. He meant what he said, but everyone else in the room just looked at him confusedly.

“Thank you for the compliment, Captain,” said Fury, seeming at a loss for words, for the first time since Steve had met him. “But what do you mean?”

“I just meant it’s great that you’re part of a government agency as large as SHIELD, and it’s even more amazing that you’re in such a high position. Back in my day, people wouldn’t even have looked at you if you passed them on the street.” He shrugged modestly. “It’s a good change, that nobody cares that the director of SHIELD, and even the President of the United States, are negroes.”

Steve had heard the phrase ‘deafening silence’ before, but he’d never really felt it until right then. Everyone in the room was staring at him in shock, with the exception of Thor, who was happily playing with one of Clint’s arrows and ignoring everything around him. Fury’s mouth had actually dropped open in shock, which would have been funny if it hadn’t been concerning.

“Uh...was it something I said?”

Tony broke out of his trance first, setting a hand carefully on Steve’s shoulder. “Steve, honey,” he said carefully. “That’s… it’s not a term we use anymore.”

“What isn’t?” asked Steve, turning to face Tony, more confused than ever. “Negro?”

Tony winced and gripped his shoulder even harder. “Yeah...please don’t say it again.” He took a deep breath and looked to the others for help.

“It’s a pretty bad racial slur, Steve,” said Natasha gently. “Really, really bad. It’s like using-” she broke off and looked wildly around her. “What slurs did they have in the 1940s?”

“You don’t need to explain,” said Steve hurriedly, cutting her off. He was blushing so hard from embarrassment, he was surprised his face hadn’t caught on fire yet. He turned to Fury, who was still staring at him in shock.

“Sir, I’m very sorry, I had no idea what it meant. Or, I do, but I should have realized it was not right to use it. I’m so sorry.”

“A lot changed after the war, Cap,” said Fury with a sincerity Steve had never seen before. "That word is a reminder of the unbearable torture my ancestors had to go through, even today. I appreciate that you were unknowledgable about this-" Steve cringed in embarrassment "-and of course, I don't blame you for saying what was essentially a normal word in your day. Your apology is accepted, Captain, just...make sure you know what you're saying next time." He waved his hand to indicate it was all over and forgiven, but Steve’ serum-enhanced ears picked up on Fury’s muted whispers to Hill a few minutes later. “We need to get him up to speed, quick.”

Steve stayed quiet for the rest of the night, not venturing to talk and hiding himself as much as possible. He’d never been more embarrassed in his life. He knew he was forgiven, but the sense of having committed such a terrible faux pas was not something that his sensitive nature would easily forget.

The only good thing that had come out of this was that Tony was being perfectly nice to him again. Steve unconsciously stayed stuck to his side like glue, and Tony indulged him, their previous awkwardness forgotten. Steve paid no attention to the movie playing in front of them and curled into Tony’s side instead. For some reason, that was the only way he could get comfortable enough to relax.

Chapter Text

Their movie nights usually ended with the team having to explain to Thor what he had watched, and then they’d drink a round of beer or cocoa, depending on their mood. They’d talk about the movie, or anything else that happened to come up, and then they’d retire for the night to their respective floors.

Tonight though, Steve fell asleep in the same position he’d been all night: curled up on Tony. The rest of the team trooped out while Tony was stuck contemplating how to get up without disturbing the soldier curled into his side like a damn kitten.

He didn’t have to worry too long, as Steve woke up the minute Tony moved even slightly. He rubbed his eyes sleepily and Tony almost cooed at how adorable that looked, if a 250-pound Nazi-killing super-soldier could be called “adorable”.

“Did I fall asleep?” asked Steve, his voice rough and scratchy. “Sorry.”

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” said Tony awkwardly. “You wake up really easily, you know that?”

“Perks of being a soldier,” shrugged Steve. He stood up and stretched, groaning. Sleeping on an unstable beanbag was no joke. He turned to face Tony, only to see the man quickly avert his eyes. Oh, right, he’d already forgotten about the events of that morning. And the evening.

“Tony,” he started uncertainly. No time like the present, right? “Why were you avoiding me today?”

Tony blushed. “I wasn’t avoiding you, Cap,” he said, laughing nervously. “I was just really busy, is all…”

“I know you were avoiding me,” persisted Steve. “Did...was I offensive to you too?” Steve’s voice quietened, and even Tony could pick up his nervous tone. “Fury is going to hate me for the rest of his life.”

“I’m not going to lie, it was very wrong, Steve,” said Tony. “And Fury is definitely going to treat you differently for a while, but nobody blames you. Not much anyway.”

“Is it the whole porn thing then?” demanded Steve. “You know we had porn in the 40’s, right, and it was my fault we found it in the first place-”

“It’s not that,” said Tony, hurriedly, cutting Steve off. “It’s...I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, and I thought me being around you would...make you...uncomfortable.”

Steve kept looking at Tony, more confused than ever. Was this really the same arrogant, cocksure, overconfident Tony Stark he’d met that first time on the SHIELD helicarrier? They seemed like two very different people as he watched Tony stutter and stumble over his words. If anything, he was the one who seemed uncomfortable.

“Tony,” started Steve, but Tony cut him off again, standing up. “It’s getting late, I’m going to join the rest of the team. You should too, Steve,” said Tony, smiling quickly and walking out of the room, leaving Steve to stare confusedly after him.

If Bucky was asked, he’d always describe Steve as ‘a stubborn little punk’, usually accompanied with a soft grin, an arm around Steve’s shoulders and a hand on his hair. Steve could no longer be described as ‘little’ but he was still a stubborn punk, and he wasn’t going to let Tony get away with avoiding him if he really wanted to.

Even for Steve though, confronting Tony was easier said than done. It was Tony’s Tower after all, and if he wanted to hide, he could very well do it. JARVIS was no help either, simply telling Steve that “Sir would prefer to be alone at the moment” or “Sir has requested that he not be disturbed”. It seemed like Steve would need to fake some kind of Avengers-level threat to get the man’s attention.

Steve had gotten so used to Tony’s presence over the last few weeks that now it was like he had no idea what to do with himself. Without Tony he felt bored and listless, like Tony’s presence was a drug and he was suffering from withdrawal symptoms. It was an odd feeling, but Steve didn’t want to think too hard about that. Better to focus on one thing first.

Steve wandered around the Tower lethargically, unsure what to do with himself. He tried to stalk Tony’s lab, but it seemed to be empty. He even paid a fleeting visit to Bruce’s quarters, hoping Tony was seeking refuge there, but Bruce was alone. Steve stayed for a bit talking to Bruce, but again, without Tony, it just felt hollow.

“Steve?” asked Bruce gently. “You okay?”

Steve blushed. Was he that obvious?

“I’m fine, Bruce,” he said gruffly, not fooling the scientist at all.

“It’s Tony, isn’t it?” asked Bruce, gentle as ever. “You guys had a fight?”

Steve shook his head, dropping all pretense. “He’s ignoring me, and I don’t know what I did. I tried hunting for him, so I could apologize at least, but he’s nowhere.” Steve paced around the lab nervously. “D’you think I said something offensive to him too?”

“Calm down, Steve,” said Bruce, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Tony gets into moods like that sometimes. I’m pretty sure you did nothing wrong.”

“I still miss him,” said Steve, trying not to sound too pathetic. Bruce smiled knowingly.

“Relax, Steve. Knowing Tony, he won’t be able to stay away from you for too long. Give him some space, he’ll come to you soon enough.” Steve narrowed his eyes. Bruce’s smile was a little too knowing for his comfort, and he didn’t really want to unpack all the reasons behind that.

“Yeah,” he said finally, rubbing a hand over his hair. “Thanks, Bruce. I’ll...I’ll do that.”

Bruce patted him gently on the shoulder, like he was a child. “Go take a nap, Cap,” he said, turning back to his work. “You look like shit.”

Steve was going to follow Bruce’s advice, he really was. He just never got a chance to, considering that when he walked into his floor, Tony was already there. He jumped to attention the minute he saw Steve.

“Cap!” he said, with more enthusiasm than should have been possible for someone who’d been ignoring him for over a week. “I was beginning to think you got lost.”

“I’m here,” said Steve, a weak attempt at a joke. “Question is, why are you here?”

“It’s my Tower, Cap, I can go anywhere I want,” snarked Tony. Steve rolled his eyes.

“You know what I mean,” he said, a bit more roughly than he’d intended. “You ignore me for an entire week, and then you show up pretending we’re best pals, like nothing happened.”

Tony winced. “I told you, Cap, I’ve just been busy.” He didn’t meet Steve’s eyes as he spoke, and Steve felt an overwhelming urge of... something flood his body. Tony looked so shy and small that Steve instantly regretted his words.

“Was it me?” he asked quietly, sitting awkwardly on a corner of the couch. “Did I say something offensive again? Because Tony, if I did, I promise I didn’t mean it.”

“You didn’t,” said Tony hurriedly. “You didn’t do anything, Cap. It wasn’t you, it was me.”

“You breaking up with me, Stark?” asked Steve, smiling at the man and relishing in the small smile he got in return. “Is everything okay?”

Tony shook his head in disbelief. “Only Captain America would ask me if I’m feeling okay, after I’ve treated you like shit this whole time,” said Tony, half to himself. “You’re amazing, Cap.”

“Why do you always call me that?” asked Steve abruptly. He knew it was rude, but he had a name. Being called ‘Captain’ all the time, it made him feel unseen. Like nobody needed Steve Rogers, they just wanted Captain America. “Nobody ever calls me Steve.”

“I...didn’t realize,” said Tony, flummoxed. “I’ve never called you by your name, have I? Wow, that’s a dick move. On all our parts.” Tony got up to sit next to Steve, placing a hand on his shoulder.

‘It’s just a nickname ya know? We got used to it, and I guess we forgot you actually had a name. For what it’s worth, I really am sorry, Steve.” Steve shrugged, but a smile played on his face. “Forgive me?”

“I will,” said Steve, looking Tony directly in the eye, “If you tell me why you were ignoring me.”

As Steve had expected, Tony blushed and looked away. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Steve. Don’t worry about it.”

“Well, what did you do that was so bad, then?” urged Steve, pressing closer to Tony. “Please, Tony. I missed you real bad this week. I don’t wanna have to lose you again.”

Tony played with his hands nervously, looking anywhere but at Steve. “Like I said, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Why would I feel uncomfortable around you, Tony?” asked Steve incredulously. “You’re my best friend!”

“Because of the whole porn thing!” exploded Tony. “You didn’t like watching two men go for it, and me staying around you would have made you uncomfortable, especially because…” Tony broke off and mumbled something to himself, blushing harder than ever. Steve wrinkled his nose, confused.

“Why would I be mad at you over that? We did have porn in the 40’s, Tony.”

“It’s not the porn part, it’s the part where it was two guys.” said Tony, his face growing redder and redder. “I know you aren’t used to that, and I didn’t want to make it worse by being around you.”

Steve blinked. “Tony, what...I have no problem with homosexuals! When they told me gay marriage was legal in New York, it was one of the few good points of the future. I know many people in my day thought it was wrong, but I’m not one of them, Tony. Love is love.” Steve shook his head before something else that Tony had said registered. “’re gay?”

“Bisexual, actually,” said Tony quietly. “I thought you’d find me disgusting if you knew, (although how you don’t already know when it’s splashed all over every tabloid possible is a mystery to me), and I didn’t want you to hate me.” He looked so miserable that Steve couldn’t resist pulling the man into a hug. Tony relaxed into it for a few seconds before pulling away, or trying to anyway.

“Why would you ever think I’d hate you, Tony?” asked Steve softly, not letting go of him.

“Because it’s not just that I’m bi,” said Tony nervously, struggling in Steve’s grip. He pulled away and looked directly into Steve’s eyes. “I...I always had a thing for you, Steve. When I was growing up, you were all Howard talked about. I thought you were amazing, I had the Captain America posters pinned up and everything.” Tony paused to take a breath, his voice growing louder and louder. “And then I got to meet you in real life, and you were just as amazing, just as beautiful, and for god’s sake, what I’m trying to say is I’m in love with you, Steve Rogers!”

Steve looked back at Tony in shock. Tony stood up to leave, apparently embarrassed after his little love confession, but Steve caught his arm before he could walk away.

“Tony,” he started, but Tony wouldn’t meet his eyes. Exasperated, he placed his hands on Tony’s cheeks, turning his head so the man was forced to look at him. “Quit running away and listen to me for a moment.” Steve look a deep breath. “I think I’m in love with you too.”

This was a serious moment, Steve knew that, but he couldn’t help the goofy grin that spread across his face at his words. He hadn’t realized it ‘til right now, but yeah. He liked Tony Stark. Very much. “I know you think I’m not all caught up with the twenty-first century yet, and I’m not,” said Steve softly, tracing a thumb down Tony’s cheekbones. “But I know enough to tell you that I like you. I never spoke about it, but I always liked fellas too. I was madly in love with this one guy-” Steve broke off, trying not to think about Bucky. This wasn’t the time.

Tony chuckled between Steve’s large hands. “Sergeant Barnes?” he asked. “I always figured you two had a thing for each other.”

“I had a thing for him, it wasn’t the other way ‘round,” mumbled Steve. “But enough about Bucky. We’re here for you. I like you, Tony.”

“That was one outcome I wasn’t expecting,” mumbled Tony, smiling. He brought a hand up to his face to cup Steve’s. “Can I kiss you?”

Steve didn’t bother replying, simply leaning forward to press his lips to Tony’s. Tony returned the kiss eagerly, wrapping his arms around Steve’s neck and pulling him so close there was no space left between them. Steve smiled into the kiss, pulling away to look at Tony. His eyes were shining as he looked back at Steve, smiling like a love-struck fool (Steve could relate). He’d been nervous that he’d mess up, this being his first kiss since 1945 and all, but the look on Tony’s face was enough to tell him he’d done fine, if not better. He pulled Tony into a hug, his head resting on Steve’s chest.

“You wanna go out with me tomorrow? On a real date?” asked Tony, his words slightly muffled by the fact that he was talking into Steve’s shirt. Steve smiled.

“You have me for as long as you want, Tony,” promised Steve, pressing a kiss to Tony’s hair. Tony laughed, making Steve’s heart to do backflips.

“I do, don’t I,” mused Tony. “Now all I need to worry about is Sergeant Barnes somehow coming back from the dead and stealing you away from me.”

“I promise you, right here and now,” Tony looked up at Steve and they both moved in for another soft kiss. “If it was between you and Bucky, I’d always pick you.” Tony snuggled his head further into Steve’s chest. He knew he could always trust Steve.

Chapter Text

As the title says, this is not an update. I just want to thank everyone who commented on this work, especially chapter 5, and showing me how to fix what I did wrong. i've fixed most of it and changed the word to something less politically heavy, so hopefully you guys will like it better now. To anyone who re-reads this (holy shit, thank you!) hopefully you're not too confused by the changes!