Work Text:
- Milk
- Eggs
- Butter
- Beers
- More scissors
- Shoelaces
- Bread for tomorrow night (lots)
Steve went down the list with sharp eyes, double checking that they were all in the cart before wheeling it through to the checkout and paying for his stuff. It was a Saturday afternoon, and Walmart was packed with people doing their weekly shop just like him- despite the fact that it was supposed to be Bucky’s turn, the Goddamn asshole. Steve hated shopping. Too much pressure. If he didn’t get everything on the list then he’d undoubtedly have three angry room-mates yelling at him when he got home. This kind of thing was better left to people like Sam, who was actually at least vaguely organised.
He sighed, rechecking all his now-packed groceries. At least Bucky had let him borrow the van whilst he’d been swanning off to go on his stupid date with the redhead chick. It made finding his car in the absolute maze of the Walmart parking lot a damn sight easier, that was for sure.
Pulling out his phone as he guided the trolley in the direction of the exit, he dialled Sam’s number and slid the phone between his ear and shoulder. It only took a few rings before his roommate picked up.
“Milk, eggs, butter, beers, scissors, shoelaces and bread,” Steve said, “is that all? Because I’m about to leave the store right now, so speak now or hold your peace until next week.”
“Hold on,” Sam said, before yelling out the same list to Thor, who gave a muffled response that Steve couldn’t hear. “Yeah, that’s all, don’t worry. Also Bucky told me to let you know that he’s sorry and you’re the best pal ever.”
Steve just harrumphed grumpily. “Whatever. That girl better be fuckin’ worth it, that’s all I’m saying,” he muttered, before saying goodbye and ending the call.
As he made his way out of the doors, he realised with a sigh that it had started to pour with rain. He was dressed in nothing more than a thin black hoodie and sweatpants, and that wasn’t exactly appropriate for a winter deluge. He sighed, pulling up his hood and cursing Bucky’s name. God, if it was Steve abandoning the chores for some pretty girl, he’d never hear the end of it. But nooo, of course Bucky got to slip away. Asshole.
Pushing his cart down the aisles of the parking lot, he quickly clocked his van and then headed toward it, hurrying with his head down in an attempt to shield it from the icy rain. He was lucky he’d picked out his boots to wear as opposed to the ratty trainers- they would’ve been soaked within the first few damn seconds of being out in this. He unloaded his groceries quickly into the van and then shut the doors with a slam, grabbing his cart in order to take it over to the return rack and then get the fuck outta there- but he paused in his tracks when he noticed something.
Or, more fittingly, someone.
It was… a boy. Tiny kid, couldn’t have been more than five or six, stood in the parking lot about ten feet away and looking around him nervously. He was wearing even less than Steve; nothing more than a little green T-shirt, and it was soaked through. Must’ve been freezing out there. His eyes were wide, panicked, and he kept turning around like he was looking for someone. Undoubtedly his parents.
“You okay there, buddy?” Steve asked gently, stepping forward a step and pulling his hands out from his pockets, “you look a little lost.”
The boy jerked around to stare at him, and Steve saw his lip quivering. “I…” the boy began, arms coming around to hug at himself, “I can’t find my daddy.”
Oh, Dammit. Steve was getting progressively colder as he stood out here in the freezing rain and wind, but there was no way he could just leave this poor kid on his own. “Hey, that’s okay,” Steve said placatingly, shooting him a smile, “I’m sure he’s looking for you. The store’s just super big, so it’s probably taking a while. What’s your name, pal?”
He stepped forward again as the kid looked up at him and swallowed. His hair was plastered to his face by that point, soaking wet. “P-Peter.”
Steve grinned, getting within touching distance and then crouching onto his haunches, holding out a hand for the little boy to shake. “Nice name,” he said, “I’m Steve. Where did you last see your dad, Peter?”
“I was with him in the store, but then I went to have a look at the toys and Daddy didn’t see me leave so he just kept going, and then I couldn’t find him!” Peter said sadly. His eyes were absolutely huge- did all kids look that cute? “So I went out into the parking lot in case he’d gone back to the car or so that I could wait for him, but then I couldn’t remember where he’d put the car and then it started raining and now I don’t know where anything is.” Peter’s lip quivered again and he looked about ready to cry. Steve wasn’t quite sure what to do- he didn’t interact with kids much at all, the last time he’d seen one had been when he’d gone to Sharon’s birthday eight months ago and seen her little baby niece. This was not exactly his forte.
“Well, I say first we find your daddy’s car and then see if he’s there, and if he isn’t, I’ll take you back into the store and we can get one of the cashiers to send a message on the intercom,” Steve told him eventually, smiling reassuringly down at the little boy. “How does that sound?”
Peter paused, but then nodded shakily. Steve smiled again, holding out a hand which Peter took and held tight to as they began to walk. “Hey, so what does your daddy’s car look like?” He asked the kid questioningly.
Peter thought it over for a moment, before looking up to Steve. “It’s black and smooth,” he said, and Steve sighed. Right. Not exactly helpful in a parking lot full of thousands of black and smooth cars.
“Hey, you think if I lifted you up, you’d be able to spot it in the lot?” Steve asked, the idea popping into his head. “Or you might even see your daddy somewhere.”
The little boy nodded, holding his hands up expectantly. Steve complied, hefting the skinny kid up so he was tucked into Steve’s waist and high enough to see a little more. Steve knew this was probably fruitless- the poor kid’s dad was undoubtedly still frantically searching in the building itself, but if it made the kid feel a little better, Steve didn’t mind. “So what were you buying with your daddy then?” He asked, trying to make conversation and keep the boy relaxed as he moved them over to his van. He could just pop Peter onto the hood so that he was higher up, and it might give him a better angle.
Or at least, that had been the plan.
Of course, Steve’s plans rarely actually, y’know… went right.
He walked over his van with Peter secure at his hip, but he was about three steps away when he suddenly heard a furious growling sound behind him, and then turned just in time to see a man sprint up to him, full force and not even looking vaguely as if he would slow down-
And then Steve got punched, hard, right in the fucking eye.
Peter was snatched harshly from his grip as he stumbled straight onto the concrete, taken completely aback by the sudden attack. Someone was shouting at him viciously, and when Steve looked up through his good eye, he saw the man was clutching Peter tight against his chest, a hand holding his head protectively.
“-don’t think I’m not calling the fucking cops, sick fuck, you touch my kid ever again and I’ll make sure you never make it out of prison for the rest of your fucking life, do you understand, how fucking dare you try and-“
“Whoah whoah, what the Goddamn fuck?” Steve asked, scrambling back from any potential swinging feet and then hitting his van with a thump, “what the fuck did you do that for?”
The man opened his mouth to undoubtedly shout more obscenities, but then Peter patted him on the cheek urgently, his eyes wide as he looked down at Steve. “No, daddy, he wasn’t trying to kidnap me, he was trying to help! I couldn’t find you and he was lifting me up to try and help find your car, that was all, I promise, he’s not a baddie, please don’t hurt him!”
Steve hissed in pain as he covered his eye with a damp hand. He could feel warm blood trickle down from his eyebrow- Jheeze, the guy packed a fucking punch. When there was a silence, Steve chose the moment to push himself back up off the soaking wet concrete. Jesus, now he really was fucking freezing, and his goddamn clothes were soaking from getting thrown to the floor.
That’d teach him not to help people. Jesus fucking Christ.
The man- Peter’s dad- was staring at him suspiciously for a moment, before he turned back to his son, still holding him tight. “He didn’t lead you off anywhere?” He asked, glancing back to Steve. “You know we’ve run through scenarios like this, did he-“
“No, daddy, I promise he was only trying to help,” Peter told him enthusiastically, before frowning, “you didn’t need to hit him. That was mean. ”
The father paused, before his eyes widened a little, something like realization dawning on his face. “Oh,” he said dumbly, “you… weren’t trying to kidnap him?”
“God, fuck, no, why the fuck would you think that?” Steve asked incredulously, trying to open his injured eye and then wincing again when that failed.
“Because you were carrying my son away into a van with your hood up and obscuring your face?” The father told him, waving a hand defensively, “and this wouldn’t be the first fucking time!”
Steve paused, before just sighing and shaking his head. “No. I wasn’t trying to abduct your fucking son. I was trying to go grocery shopping. Jheeze, you couldn’t’a just yelled at me to put him down before trying to take my eye out, could you?” He muttered snappily. This felt bad. He probably wasn’t going to be able to drive like this, Goddamn it.
“I…” The father was blinking rapidly now, looking at Steve’s swollen eye and then paling a little, “God, I’m really sorry. I didn’t- I just saw him with you and I- I freaked, oh Jesus, how bad is it?”
Steve shrugged, annoyed. “I dunno, you tell me, seeing as I can’t see shit.”
The man swore under his breath, before putting Peter down hurriedly and then stepping forward. It was still pouring down with rain, and all of them were soaking by that point. Steve just wanted to go home. Today already fucking sucked.
“Peter, go sit in the car and tell JARVIS to put the heating on,” Tony told him, before pulling out his keys and pressing a button on them that started up his car alarm. Steve turned to watch as a sleek black car a few rows to his left began to beep, and then sighed. They probably would have found that if he’d been able to hold Peter up for a little longer.
Peter nodded and then plodded away, thanking Steve quietly as he left. Steve just did his best to smile down at him, although it was somewhat lopsided by that point.
“I am so so sorry,” The man said again, getting into his space with a worried expression on his face, “I didn’t mean to… okay, so I did mean to hit that hard, but I totally misjudged and I just- I panic, okay, he’s my boy and he’s constantly wandering off and getting into shit and I just-“
Steve sighed, waving a hand and cutting him off. “Don’t worry about it,” he said gruffly, “I guess it did look pretty suspicious. I’ve had worse anyway, I’ll survive.” He wasn’t sure whether this dude would survive, however, when he got back and Sam, Thor and Bucky all saw the massive shiner he was sporting. They were a pretty protective bunch.
The man held his head in his hands. He looked appropriately mortified. “Do you need someone to drive you the hospital?” he asked, “you probably can’t see very well through that, can you?”
No. Steve couldn’t see shit, there was blood all over his cheek and the other eye had started watering to the point where everything was getting blurry. He probably looked a complete mess. “No, I ain’t going to the hospital,” he said with a shake of his head, thinking with trepidation of the bill that he’d end up getting because of it. They were stretched for cash as it was.
“No, come on, you might need stitches.”
“Buddy, you punch hard, but not that hard,” Steve told him wryly, and the guy paused for a moment, before laughing a little nervously.
“God, I’m such a douchebag,” he muttered, which, to be honest, Steve wasn’t really in the mood to disagree with. The man paused for a moment, before looking back at Steve and smiling sheepishly. “I’m Tony,” he said, “Tony Stark. I don’t know if it helps my case here, but this isn’t the first time I’ve had to worry about kidnapping scares.”
The name registered in his head, and if Steve could have used his eyes, he would’ve blinked in surprise. Tony Stark… the super rich guy with the huge company, wasn’t he? Shit. Was he gonna sue Steve for attempted kidnap or something? His roommates would not be happy about that.
“I swear I wasn’t kidnapping your son,” Steve said hurriedly, “please don’t file any lawsuits, I honest-to-God was just trying to help-“
“Hey, no, that wasn’t what I meant,” Tony shook his head, sighing again, “God, this entire interaction has been a trainwreck. Please let me drive you to the hospital. You can’t get on the road when you can’t see thanks to the fact that I punched you in the fucking eye. I’ll pay to get your car returned. And any hospital bills you have, I promise. I’m so sorry this happened, I feel like a complete tool.”
Again, Steve just shook his head. He supposed that Tony’s reaction had been an easy one to make- now Steve was thinking about it, he’d heard the man’s name quite frequently in various newspapers or radio stations, which made him a very public figure. It must be tough, trying to raise a son through all that. Easy to get paranoid. “Look, Tony, it’s okay. I just need to put some ice on it, I’m sure it’ll be-“
“Hey, look, if you’re not going to let me take you to the hospital, can I at least take you back to my place?” Tony asked, before apparently realizing how that sounded and raising his hands, backtracking. “Not like… God, I must seem like such a fucking asshole to you, mustn’t I? Fuck. I just meant that I live like, five minutes away from here and we can clean you up there before I take you home. How does that sound?”
Tony was looking at him hopefully, hands together in a little prayer sign as he bounced nervously on his toes. Steve just looked at him for a second, before sighing. “Okay, if you insist,” he said, “thanks.”
“And I’ll get you a change of clothes. You must be freezing.”
“Yeah, that happens when you get beaten to the soaking wet floor.”
Tony’s cheeks went bright red, and he looked down to the floor in guilt. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated, before Steve just huffed and then shook his head.
“It’s fine. Let’s just go, shall we? I really am fucking freezing.”
Tony nodded, taking his wrist and guiding him through the cars, continuing his stream of repetitive apologies as he led Steve through the parking lot until they reached his car where Peter was sat patiently in the back seat. Steve could only see him through his very blurry vision, but he grinned at what he hoped was the little kid’s face anyway.
Tony knocked on the window as he passed and waved at his son, who waved back happily. Then Tony opened the passenger door for him and made a gesture with his hand. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said, “I’ll even let you key the paintwork if that’d make you feel better.”
Steve couldn’t help but grin as he rolled his eyes and felt his way inside. “Don’t be ridiculous- wouldn’t wanna ruin a beauty like this.” And it was true- the car was indeed a beauty. Leather seats and smooth interior and a body that was smooth enough to cut through the air with ease. It must have cost a fortune.
“Hey, you can have it if you want,” Tony said as he hopped into the driver’s seat and turned to him. He was smiling, but his eyes were tight, “or would you prefer a cheque? Or what about both? I could give you both, if you’re-“
“Hey, whoah,” Steve pulled a face and then winced when it stretched his eyelid a little too tight, “I don’t… I don’t want your stuff. It’s fine. Look, if it’s too much hassle, you can just drop me off home and I’ll patch myself up. Got into my fair share of fights before- I know how to fix up a black eye.” Steve’s mouth twitched in a grin, but it faltered a little when Tony just continued to watch him slightly warily out of the corner of his eye.
“You sure you don’t… like I wouldn’t mind, I seriously fucked up here, so if you want anything at all-“
“I don’t,” Steve said, slightly snappily now, “why? Does it look like I need it? ‘Cause I don’t need any help or charity, okay, I’m fine.”
“No, that’s not what I-“ Tony stopped, huffing out a sigh as he twisted the keys in ignition and then began to pull out of the parking space. “God, I’m fucking up again. Look- if it’s a tossup between me giving you a car or you taking this to court, I’d rather you just took the car. That’s all.” Tony’s voice lowered as he glanced back, over to Peter. “Please. Every time I get bad PR, it’s my son who suffers. I just… I’m trying to avoid another public disaster, that’s all.”
Steve watched him through his half-shut eye as Tony bit his lip and stared unwaveringly at him, something that looked like a plea in his eyes. Like Steve gave half a shit about taking this to the fucking press. He hated those sick, reality-twisting fucks.
“Listen,” Steve told him, fingers tapping along the dash, “I’ve been punched more times than I’ve had hot meals. I’m living with a guy who met me in a bar-fight. Shit happens, Tony. You were trying to protect your son. It’s fine. I’ll survive. And I’m not gonna tell tales on you to some Fox News reporter either, I promise.” Steve held out his hand, which was still slightly damp and also vaguely bloody from where he’d been holding it over his face. “Let’s just start over,” he said, “I’m Steve Rogers. Ex-army. Currently a builder. Doing groceries for my asshole room-mate who abandoned chores for some hot Russian chick.”
Tony blinked, but then smiled brightly, shaking Steve’s hand with a firm grip. His skin was warm to the touch, and his fingers rough from hard work. “I’m Tony Stark,” he said, “owner of Stark Industries. Asshole who punches strangers. Father to this rascal back here,” he jerked his head over to the backseat and then winked when Peter looked up at them both. His face was impossibly soft, and Steve knew that Tony obviously doted on his son.
“An’ I’m Peter!” The kid said loudly, looking at Steve with a gap-toothed smile, “I’m five years and twenty-three days old and I like science! Oh, and frogs! Frogs are awesome and I’ve asked Santa for a pet frog for Christmas!”
Steve huffed, shooting a look at Tony. “Well, I absolutely think that Santa should buy you that frog,” he told the boy with a serious nod of his head. “Frogs are awesome.”
“I wouldn’t get your hopes up Peter,” Tony said hurriedly, “Santa doesn’t usually put live animals in his sleigh, does he Steve?” He asked pointedly.
Steve just looked at him. “What about all those puppies that kids get for Christmas?” He asked curiously, and then grinned despite the pain when he heard Peter clap delightedly behind him.
Tony just sighed. “Put your seat-belt on, Petey,” he changed the subject hurriedly, clearly trying to divert the conversation away from frogs in the house. Steve held down his smile with a hand over his mouth as he looked out of the window. The father and son pairing were… sort of adorable. And now that Steve was managing to see past Tony as just being ‘that asshole who just punched him in the eye’, Steve actually noticed that he was- well-
He was really cute.
Tony talked as he drove; chatting easily with Steve and occasionally throwing questions over to his son as he sat in the back-seat. Peter seemed very excited to have a guest in the car, and bombarded Steve with a variation of questions, including ‘has daddy made you blind now’ and ‘what’s your favouritest sort of berry’.
“Favourite, Petey,” Tony looked in the mirror and smiled fondly, “what is your ‘favourite’, not ‘favouritest’.”
Steve just laughed, turning around. His vision was getting a little bit better by that point; his eyes had stopped watering at the very least, meaning that he was no longer seeing double. “I like blueberries, I guess,” he answered, “what about you?”
And then Peter went on a two-minute rant about his different favourite berries, naming them off one by one and ranking them in order of best to worst. Steve nodded when Tony did, making the appropriate humming and ahh-ing sounds when necessary. He’d never get over how weird kids could be sometimes, but it was definitely amusing.
“How does your eye feel, Mr. Steve?” Peter asked after a moment, crossing his legs on the seat and leaning forward, “you look real funny. Your eye’s all big and puffy.”
Steve shot a glance over to Tony, who was beginning to blush again as he stared at the road obstinately. “It’s not too bad,” he lied, “just a regular shiner. Your dad’s got a pretty sharp right hook.”
Peter’s face lit up. “Cool!” He said, clapping his hands.
Tony raised a finger hurriedly. “No, Peter, it’s not cool,” he admonished, “you never ever do that to strangers unless they’re going to hurt you, okay? And you try and run before you ever throw the first punch. That was not an example of how you solve conflicts with strangers.”
Steve nodded wisely, turning around to the little boy. “But if the strangers are gonna kidnap you, then you can punch them in the eye,” he told him, and beside him Tony nodded.
“Yeah. Then you can punch them.”
They drove for another few minutes, before Tony turned left onto a quieter road and then pulled up the car next to one of the hugely expensive houses in central New York that just screamed ‘multi-million dollars’. It was a beautiful red-brick house, with a grand black door and pretty, well-kept flowers lining the windows. Steve thought about his shitty apartment with four rooms, a broken sink and Weird Alan, the neighbour who sometimes took LSD and then knocked on their door looking for ‘the Midnight Elves’. It was quite a sharp contrast, to say the least.
“Wow,” Steve said, as he stepped tentatively out of the car and onto the sidewalk, looking up, “this is… wow.”
Tony grinned. “Homely, right?” He asked, grabbing Peter’s hand and then holding on as the little ball of energy swung off his father’s arm, “I used to live in Stark Tower, down by Park Avenue- but when I had Peter, I wanted somewhere a little less sleek, more fit for a family, you know?” He shrugged, taking out his keys and then hopping up the stairs.
“Well” Steve nodded, walking up the stairs behind him, “this is definitely… something. Would’a killed to live in a place like this when I was your age, Peter,” he directed the last bit down at the little boy and winked with his good eye, and the kid laughed before jumping up to turn the handle of the door and then scuttle inside.
“Shoes off before you hit the carpet, young man!” Tony called out after him with a sigh, before turning back to Steve. “Come on in, Steve- you want anything to drink while you’re here?”
He accepted the offer of a cup of coffee as he walked through Tony’s huge place, trying not to stare in envy at the pristine walls and unbroken sinks. He felt a little like this was just some strange dream- because was it really that likely that he got punched by one of the richest men in the world and then invited back for coffee? Come on- he’d probably brained himself on the side of the car and was just having a nice little hallucination in the middle of the parking lot right now.
“How’s it feel?” Tony asked, and Steve blinked, focusing back in on the other man as he cocked his head and waved over to Steve’s swollen eye and generally messy face.
Steve just shrugged. “I’ve had worse,” he said wryly, and then felt something strange and warm start fluttering around in his stomach when Tony laughed.
It was a very nice laugh. His eyes scrunched up and his mouth went all uneven and he looked… nice. That was all.
“You keep saying that,” Tony said as he turned around and then got onto his haunches, opening up the bottom cupboards in search of something, “do you regularly get into altercations with people, Steve?”
He chuckled. “Uh, you could say that,” he said bashfully, looking up at the ceiling in an attempt not to watch the way Tony’s ass moved in those tight jeans, “lotta assholes out there. I’m… pretty confrontational, let’s say. If I see something wrong, I’ll do my level best to stop it. Always have. And I used to be a hell’uva lot smaller than I am now, too, so-“ Steve just shrugged, “go figure. I’ve been in hospital more times than I can count.”
Tony looked back around at him, something intrigued in his eyes. “Oh, so you’re some sort of vigilante justice-serving civilian, then?” He said in amusement, “that’s cool. I dig that.”
Steve just grinned. “Yeah, I can see you were having a little taster session of your own back there,” he waved at his face. “How’d you find it?”
Tony stepped forward, and Steve noticed the little first-aid kit that he’d managed to fish out from the back of his cupboards. “Thrilling at first, mortifying after realizing that I’d just assaulted a poor man who’d only been trying to help my disaster of a son find his way back to my car, as opposed to kidnapping him for ransom.” He looked down with a small blush on his cheeks, and then unzipped the bag in his hands. “I’m gonna clean all the blood off first, okay? This, uh- it might sting a little. Sorry.”
Steve jumped up onto the counter easily, and Tony stepped forward, an antiseptic wipe in his hand that he folded in a neat little triangle before placing it gently down on the side of Steve’s face. The contact stung, and he hissed in pain as the liquid seeped into the gash over his eyebrow.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Tony muttered, pulling a pained face as he delicately wiped it over Steve’s brow and cheek, “sorry, I’m a dick, sorry-“
“Stop apologizing, Tony,” Steve rolled his eyes and huffed quietly, “I almost certainly would have done the same in your situation. A simple mistake to make.”
Tony just grimaced, turning over the wipe and then sweeping it back across Steve’s face. It hurt, yeah- but there was something soothing in the way Tony did it. His touch was warm, pleasant; it made Steve’s cheeks tingle a little.
With hindsight, he realised that agreeing to let this ridiculously attractive man take him home and put his hands all over Steve’s face had… probably not been the best idea. Steve rarely found himself looking at folk and thinking of how good-looking they were, but when he did, it was always incredibly difficult for him to stop thinking of it. It was all or nothing in his head- and currently, as Steve swallowed and looked at Tony as the man leaned close and dabbed his hairline to wipe off all the blood, he figured that he was probably headed more for the ‘all’ than the ‘nothing’.
It possibly said quite a lot about him, that the only person Steve had looked twice at in about six months was also the guy who’d nearly knocked him clean out in a parking lot.
“Okay,” Tony said quietly, and Steve blinked back into the present, swallowing down the small lump that had formed in his throat as Tony stared intently at the side of Steve’s face and cocked his head, “the cut doesn’t look like it needs stitches, which is definitely good. I’ve got some butterfly strips though, which I’m gonna put on just to help it heal faster. Is that alright?”
Steve licked his lips and nodded. “Mm hm,” he said, waving a hand, “go ahead.”
Tony reached into the little medbag again, before looking down and then removing the strips from inside. Steve watched his fingers work them open, somewhat transfixed. They were definitely a good set of hands- rough from use, but well-kept. Agile. Long and sort of beautiful.
God, stop ogling his hands, freak.
Tony leaned onto his tiptoes and into Steve’s space again, and he felt as his own breath shorted out like a lightbulb. Oh God, now he’d noticed how attractive Tony was, it was impossible not to notice everything else- the way he smelt, like rainwater and metal and something citrusy, or the way his mouth was parted and showed off his gorgeous plump lips- Steve wanted to push forward and bite down on them, try and see what his mouth tasted like-
Oh God, no. Shut up. That was so inappropriate. Tony was doing him a favour. Steve needed to grow the fuck up.
He looked down at the floor and concentrated on breathing like a normal person. Tony’s fingers were feather-soft as they pressed down across the cut, and it hurt, but it also didn’t. Steve was a tough guy, and he was also very… distracted by the sensation of Tony’s hands across his face. It was a nice contrast to the stinging pain.
“Daddy!” Came a voice from the other side of the kitchen, and both of them turned as they watched Peter run from the corridor and into the room. “Daddy, I brought the spare clothes for Mr. Rogers!”
Steve chuckled at the sight of the boy, holding a pile of clothes that pretty much obscured his whole body. The kid really was tiny.
“Thanks, Petey,” Tony said warmly, stepping away and then taking the pile from Peter’s hands with a ruffle of his hair, “did you make sure to get the bigger sizes?”
“Yep. Can I have my cookie now?” Peter bounced up and down on his toes, eyes going over to the jar on the counter where Steve spotted a stack of chocolate-chip cookies just waiting to be eaten.
“Promise you’ll eat your dinner later?” Tony asked him seriously, but Peter was already clambering up onto the shelf and then scrabbling for the jar.
“Promise promise promise,” he muttered, and Tony just rolled his eyes and then turned back to Steve with a fond look on his face.
Steve had to admit, he’d never been one to find the family lifestyle particularly endearing. Sure, he’d thought about settling down one day, but it had never really been something he’d thought too much about. However, seeing Tony and Peter, he couldn’t help but think about how lovely it was. They clearly adored one another, and Steve found it really sweet. When he looked at his son, Tony's face showed the sort of devotion Steve rarely ever saw anywhere.
Tony was obviously a brilliant father, and a kind man. Aside from the punching, he’d been nothing but charming and pleasant.
And he was also watching Steve in slight amusement as Steve stared, completely unabashedly, right at him.
Shit, he’d hardly even noticed he’d been doing it.
“Uhm,” Steve quickly dragged his eyes away, moving over to Peter whose legs were swinging happily off the counter as he munched on a cookie, “so is there a mom in the picture that we’re gonna have to explain this to at some point, or…” he tried to make the question sound casual, but couldn’t help feel as if Tony knew what he had been angling for anyway, because the other man bit down on a small smile and looked at the floor.
“Uh, no,” he said with a shake of his head, “there’s no… Peter was adopted, and I mean, I’m single, so it’s just me. “
“Oh, cool,” Steve said nonchalantly, “cool, that’s- that’s cool.”
Tony’s smile was small, and his voice soft as he said, “that is cool, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Steve swallowed, looking away from the amused twinkle in Tony’s eye and clearing his throat. Shit, so Tony definitely knew that he had a crush, then. He must think Steve was so weird- Tony had punched him in the face, and Steve thought it was cute? Maybe this was why he never managed to score dates with people who weren’t absolute fucking idiots.
They continued to make easy conversation with one another as Tony stood close and let his fingers linger against Steve’s face for a little too long, until finally declaring he was fit to go about five minutes later. Steve nodded, hopping off the counter and then brushing himself down awkwardly as the two of them stood in front of one another. Steve’s eye still ached, and his head was kinda throbbing- he was also still damp from the rain of earlier, now he thought about it.
Generally speaking, he shouldn’t have been feeling in such a good mood as he did. And yet…
“Here,” Tony blurted, grabbing the pile of clothes that Peter had left on the counter and then pushing them into Steve’s arms, “uh, bathroom’s up the stairs and first door on your right.”
“Tony, really, it’s okay, you don’t have to-“
“I want to,” Tony told him, resting a hand on Steve’s forearm for a second before actually registering what he was doing and then pulling it away with a small cough. “I mean, I’ve got to make a phone call to my secretary anyway, so it might be a couple of minutes before I can drive you back to your place anyway- unless you need to get back? I guess, I mean, there are probably people wondering where you are. You want to use my phone to call your- your girlfriend or something?”
Steve snorted. “Nah, don’t worry, my roommates will just think I’m stuck in the fruit section and cussing out the prices of an apple. Also- uh- don’t really swing that way. Girlfriends and that. I mean- even if I did, then I wouldn’t have anyone to call. Because I’m single. I… Yeah.” Oh God, real subtle way of mentioning you’re single there, Steve, he’ll never guess your intentions with that one.
Tony raised his eyebrows and nodded, folding his arms and then casually leaning against the wall. “Oh right. That’s good. I mean- uh- not that you’re single, I’m sorry about that- or I mean, unless you enjoy that, which, obviously that’s fine too, I just…” He blinked to himself, quite obviously not expecting the rambling that had just fallen out of his own mouth. Then he shut his eyes slowly and sighed- Steve could see the red of mortification crawling up his face. “Oh my god, I punched you in the face, please just… ignore me, ignore me, go upstairs and get those clothes off.”
Steve just blinked, and Tony stared blankly at him for a moment before the words clicked in his head and his mouth fell open, emitting a loud groan of embarrassment. He buried his face in his hands. “You know what I mean. Please just save us both and get changed before I say anything else.”
Steve couldn’t help but huff in amusement as he watched Tony stand there, stubbornly not looking in his direction as he began to back out in the direction of the staircase. It was… Jeeze, it was kinda adorable, Steve wasn’t going to lie.
He bit his lip to stop from laughing and then ducked out of the room, heading up the stairs two at a time. He could still hear Tony groaning faintly as he got to the second floor, and it was probably a little mean, but Steve was comforted by Tony’s despair- meant that Steve, at the very least, wasn’t the only one acting like a complete and utter fool here.
He locked the bathroom door behind him and stripped off quickly, eyeing himself up the mirror as he did so. It made him pull a face- he wasn’t exactly looking his best, what with a half swollen shut eye and butterfly stitches running across his forehead. And his hair also seemed to be taking on the persona of a wet golden retriever too, which was great.
Although, in his defence, that was Tony’s fault. And Tony seemed… well, he seemed not to mind too much about it, so Steve wasn’t going to worry too much.
No. He had a dozen other, more important things to worry about instead.
Should he ask Tony out? Was Tony supposed to ask him out? What if he was just mixing up the signals and Tony wasn’t actually interested? Did single dads who were also world-famous CEO’s even have the time or energy to date? Maybe Tony didn’t even want a date at all- maybe he just thought Steve was hot and wanted something physical. Which, you know, Steve was sure as hell up for- but at the same time, he’d probably be a little disappointed if that ended up being the case. Tony was… cool. Really cool. And funny. And sweet- at least, when he wasn’t punching you in the face. And his kid, Peter, he was absolutely adorable too. Thor would love him forevermore if Steve got to introduce them- the big guy totally adored kids, and Steve got the feeling he’d completely dote on someone as cute as little Peter was.
He sighed, pulling the fresh shirt over his head. He was thinking too far ahead- he’d known Tony for what, an hour? Maybe two? And Steve was already wondering how his friends would react to him. In reality, the chances were that he’d head back downstairs, Tony would drive him back home and then get his car collected, and that would be that. Nothing else. Just a bizarre meeting with a hot stranger.
Unless Steve plucked up the courage and asked him out, that was.
Tony would almost certainly say no though, right? For God’s sake, the man was like a billionaire. He could have anyone he wanted- so what the hell would he ever want with some guy he’d punched at a Walmart? This whole thing was stupid, really.
Whilst deep in thought, he almost missed the timid knocking on the bathroom door. Steve blinked, turning in confusion as he slipped the final sock on and then stumbled forward, unlocking the latch and then peering outside.
Peter stood beneath him, his wide eyes staring unabashedly up at Steve as he held a chocolate cookie in an upturned palm like an offering. “Hey Mr. Steve,” he began, “would you like my last cookie? As a thank you for helping me, and also a sorry for daddy hitting you in the eye.” He nodded gravely and then stepped forward, bouncing up and down on his tiptoes as he watched Steve anxiously. “He never does that usually, I promise. He’s not mean and he teaches me never to hit people because it’s bad and it hurts. Daddy’s really good and you’ll like him a lot.”
Steve paused, before huffing gently in amusement and taking the cookie from Peter’s hand. “Thank you, buddy,” he said with a smile, “and I’m sure your daddy isn’t mean at all. I just think he got scared. But it’s alright, I know he’s- uh- nice. Definitely.”
Peter beamed. “When you come around next time we could all bake cookies together! Daddy makes the bestest ones ever, you’ll love them. He even sometimes lets me eat the dough.”
“Uh,” shit, did the kid think Steve was going to become a frequent visitor? What had given him that impression? “Uh, maybe, yeah. Who knows. Your dad’s… well, we’ll have to see whether he even wants me to come around again first, won’t we? But if he does, then I’d sure love to do some baking.”
Peter just huffed and rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, which made Steve raise an eyebrow. He’d known Tony for less than three hours, and could already tell exactly where Peter would have picked up that particular habit from. “Of course Daddy wants you to come over again. He has a crush on you.”
Steve stared at him. “No he- how do you even-“
“I read books about science and daddy gave me one about how people work a few weeks ago,” Peter told him as he folded his arms, “and it said that when people like other people their pupils dilate. I asked daddy what it meant and he told me it means they get bigger- which is what his eyes were doing when he was looking at you.” Peter shrugged. “He also laughed a lot more even when you said things that weren’t funny. And said you could come home. He never invites people home usually- only Uncle Rhodey, really.”
Steve just watched as Peter grinned happily at him and then turned on his heel, starting to hop back down the staircase that Steve had come up, waving behind him. “I think you and Daddy should be boyfriends,” was the last thing he told Steve, before scooting down the stairs and leaving Steve on his own in the corridor of their house, holding his damp clothes and trying to make head or tails of what the kid had been talking about.
He was kidding, right? Kids weren’t that intuitive, surely. Although… Tony had been laughing a lot. And- and he’d seemed to spend quite a lot of time with his hands on Steve’s face. Was he imagining that? No- no, that was true. Steve was sure of it.
He swallowed, looking down at himself before starting to walk tentatively back down the stairs. His mind was racing, and thanks to Peter, he was now actually considering asking Tony out. Which was ridiculous. Because he was Tony Stark, and he was a busy father and CEO of a billion-dollar company, and there was no way in hell-
“Hey Tony,” he blurted before his brain could tell him to just shut the fuck up and leave it alone, “d’you wanna go out for coffee sometime, maybe? Or lunch. Or dinner. Or- or just a date. You know. Uh. Yeah.”
Across the room, Tony stopped moving and then turned to look at him, blinking in surprise. Steve just stood there, in the foot of the doorway to the kitchen, one hand whit-knuckling his sodden clothes and the other tapping against his thigh in a slightly panicked beat.
That had, without doubt, been the least smooth way Steve could have possibly asked Tony Stark on a date.
They stared at one another for a few seconds, Steve completely rooted to the spot in mortification- and then, for some insane reason, Tony smiled.
“Oh thank God, I thought you were never going to ask,” he said with a sigh of relief, stepping around the table and then moving forward, “and I didn’t want to ask myself, ‘cause like, you know, I’d just punched you in the face and temporarily blinded you- not to mention the whole ‘single parent’ thing which also tends to freak all potential dates out. Figured the ball was in your court for that particular decision.”
Steve gaped. “Wait- are you agreeing to this?”
“Uh, yeah?” Tony cocked his head, “hey- I can call a friend up to babysit Peter tonight if you maybe wanna grab some dinner? Rhodey owes me one anyway, so he won’t mind.”
“I- uhh…” Steve swallowed and then pulled a hand through his hair, “sure. Sure! Yeah, that’d be swell.” Jesus, how the hell had this even happened? He’d been going out to get groceries, and he was coming home with a date with Tony Stark and a black eye. Also from Tony Stark.
“Awesome!” Tony clapped his hands together with a small smile, grabbing his car keys from the counter and then walking over to Peter, who was once more sat on the counter and this time munching on some pear slices. He hoisted the kid up and spun him around playfully, before slotting him onto his shoulders. “Right, Petey, let’s go and deliver Steve back to his friends, shall we?”
“Yeah yeah yeah!” Peter clapped excitedly, hands falling into Tony’s hair as he leaned in and whispered loudly, “see Daddy, I told you he wanted to be your boyfriend! You didn’t need to worry!”
Oh God. Sometimes Steve forgot how shameless kids were- yet to learn the intricacies of social interactions, Peter simply didn’t give a fuck about embarrassing anyone. Steve, however, was definitely old enough to feel said embarrassment, and he felt his cheeks begin to heat on autopilot. Jesus, was he that obvious?
Luckily, it seemed Steve wasn’t the only one who was embarrassed. At a glance, he saw that Tony, too, was pink in the cheeks, and looking up at his son with a very unimpressed look on his face. “Pete, what have we said about not telling secrets? You don’t do it!”
“You tell me not to use cuss words either, but you said ‘fuck’ about six t-“
“Peter!” Tony squeaked and plucked him off his shoulders, placing him back on the floor and then pointing a finger, “Peter Benjamin Stark, that’s enough. Just get in the car, you absolute wretch.” He palmed a hand across his forehead as he gently pushed Peter over to the direction of the door, unlocking it quickly and then sighing when Peter just hopped back out onto the sidewalk with a giggle. Steve watched the whole interaction, thoroughly amused.
Tony stopped at the door, holding onto the handle for a moment before turning back to Steve. He looked a little sheepish. “So… this is going to be an interesting story to tell all your friends when I drop you home. Just warn me before-hand if they seem like they’re gonna swing at me. I don’t mind, but I’ll need to make Peter stay in the car.”
Steve laughed, shaking his head. “They’re not going to swing at you, Tony. They’re probably just gonna laugh.”
“Okay. Comforting.” Tony nodded, hand turning on the doorknob before he paused and then spun around again. “Still sure you wanna go on a date with me?”
Steve cocked his head. “I was the one who asked you.”
“Yeah, but… double checking. It’s quite intimidating, the whole ‘dad’ thing.” Tony shrugged and looked away, before pulling a face. “I haven’t had sex in like, two years. It’s depressing.”
Steve snorted in amusement and leaned forward, raising an eyebrow. Now that the initial panic of wondering whether Tony was even into him was over, he felt brave again. “Well, we can always rectify that if you want, at some point.”
Tony’s looked at him for a moment, and then grinned with all his teeth. “Oh we are going to have lots of fun, Steve Rogers,” he declared, before finally stepping out of the door and immediately beginning to scold Peter, who was sat on the trunk of the car and scratching up the paintwork with the buttons on his trousers.
Steve watched him at the door for a moment, laughing quietly at the way Tony waved his hands despairingly as he spoke to Peter, and then getting the action mirrored right back at him as his son attempted to argue his case. They were like two peas in a pod, and Steve could readily admit, he was already smitten with both of them.
He glanced down, checking his watch. 3:07pm. In the space of two hours, he’d gotten the groceries, been punched in the face and accused of trying to abduct a child, and then scored a date with his attacker.
Sweet.
Hey- maybe he was even gonna have to thank Bucky for ditching his chores later. Things had actually turned out pretty well, all things considered. He jumped down the steps and out onto the sidewalk, looking across at Tony as he hefted Peter up under his arm in mock-anger whilst the boy squealed happily and let Tony haul him into the back seat of the car with a yell of laughter. They really made an adorable pair.
Tony slammed the back door shut and then looked up at Steve from across the car, his face happy and relaxed. They both slipped into the front a few moments later; glancing over at one another every few seconds like teenagers, and really, it should’ve been awkward, but… it just wasn’t. Not at all.
Tony’s eyes landed on Steve’s mouth for a moment, and it was just a passing glance, really- but Tony swallowed and then looked back at the road with a small breath of air, and Steve’s heart sped up simply from the look alone.
Tony was right. He and Steve were definitely going to be having some fun in the future.
“Pete,” Tony called out into the backseat as he reversed back out of his parking spot, “you love Uncle Rhodey, right?”
Peter clapped, and Steve watched him bounce happily in his seat. “Yeah yeah yeah, he’s my favouritest person ever after you.” He paused, before rectifying, “so that means he’s my second favouritest.”
Tony paused, before giving one more glance at Steve and pulling back a smile. “Good,” he said with a nod as he winked over to the passenger seat where Steve was watching him, “’cause you’re probably going to be seeing a lot more of him in future,” he finished.
Steve laughed as they sped back up the road. Yeah- he was definitely thanking Bucky for this later.