He spots him across the Stork Club through a bustling crowd, dancing with a real pretty dame, a brunette with bright red lips quirked up in an amused, affectionate smile. Tony's not watching her, though, he's watching the blond stepping on her toes, the gorgeous man with the apologetic smile and eyes like nothing Tony's ever seen. He recognizes the burst of heady, electric desire in his veins, and, startled and horrified at his own reaction, he downs his last drink before clearing out to find another club.
Beauty and the Beast:
Steve is entirely certain he's getting Stockholm Syndrome, and he is entirely certain that he doesn't care. Tony can be snappish and coarse and frankly an ass—and it's probably best not to think about the part where he kept him locked in the dungeon, though really, it was only one night—but there's more to him, too. He's kind, when he thinks no one's watching, brave and brilliant and even a bit charming, and Steve wonders why he didn't see it there before.
Policemen in a bar:
"Y'know Cap, I've got better booze back at my place we could try…if you wanted to come home with me."
Steve shot him a dry, unimpressed look, clearly asking if after ten years on the force together, after ten years of ridiculously inappropriate flirting and ogling his ass in the Captain's uniform and basically pining like a thirteen year old girl, that was really the best Tony could do; Tony shrugged.
"Also I'm a little in love with you, but I was going to save that until after I got you spectacularly drunk and possibly rocked your world."
Steve waved for the tab.
Tony's a thief, Steve works in an art gallery:
To be fair, all he'd done was tackle the man—the thief, the small part of his brain still functioning hissed—and it wasn't his fault the psycho's plan of distraction had been a kiss. Yes, okay, it might have maybe stolen his breath away, but no one had to know that because what had stolen his breath was that damn thief using his distraction to hit him in the solar plexus, hard, before dashing off into the night with his prize.
Yeah, Steve was definitely still getting fired.
Hulkeye high school:
Clint was not known for being subtle—or particularly patient, for that matter—so really, he displayed remarkable self-control waiting all of three days before leaning across their lab table to ask his adorable, too-cute-for-words lab partner,
"Bruce, darling, why are you doing science when you could be doing me?"
Bruce stuttered and dropped a beaker full of chemicals, but he was also the only one in the room who didn't groan at the cheesy line, so Clint was going to take that as a yes.
Tony knows what he feels is completely illogical. He also knows his admiration for Captain Rogers is outside the bounds of friendly camaraderie, even outside the bounds of their already unusually close friendship. He knows, and he says nothing, because while the human half of him may not mind trying for something out of his reach, the Vulcan half of him already knows every reason a relationship between them would fail, and he knows it would be his fault.
Star Trek, part two:
Steve knows exactly what Tony would say about his feelings, can practically hear his first officer telling him how illogical he's being in that arrogant, unnecessarily sassy tone he uses when he knows he's right. And maybe Tony would be right—maybe loving an impossibly frustrating, button-pushing half-Vulcan is completely and utterly illogical—but Tony is also the best friend Steve's ever had, and he's been falling headfirst for the man since the moment they met. Clearly, Steve's never really been the logical type anyway.
Destiel in an Avengers setting:
"So, did it hurt when you fell from heaven?" Dean asked, leaning as faux-casually as he could against the doorframe of the debrief room, blocking Captain America's exit and trying not to look like he'd spent the entire debrief debating which pick-up line to use.
"I did not fall from anywhere, I am perfectly fine," Castiel answered, perplexed, "You, however, fell three stories earlier and should be in the medical ward, Iron Man."
"Hurry up, Buck, we're gonna miss him!" Steve urged as he skidded through the door, clicking on the tv as the theme song started up.
Bucky made a face, but didn't protest as Steve dragged him into the room right as he came on the tv, turning his dame Pepper in a spin. He saw Tony around school, but the gorgeous teen paid him no mind; at least watching the show, Steve could pretend it was him Tony was winking at.
"I'll beat 'em to hell," Tony growled, brushing a thumb over Steve's bruised cheekbone.
"That's sweet, Tony," Steve said, smiling softly at his ridiculous alpha's over-protective streak, "But it's alright, I was the one who picked a fight in the first place."
"Nope, still gonna kick their asses," Tony told him, leaning in to kiss Steve firmly and decisively.
High school cafeteria:
Tony is scrawny, insolent, and, as Rhodey once so eloquently put it, has 'more metal in his mouth than sense in his head'. Steve is stunning, kind-hearted, and Captain of the football team. Steve bumped into him in the cafeteria once, and said all of "sorry"; Tony has been envisioning their wedding ever since.
He pokes his baby in it's chubby little side, listens to it giggle, and thinks idly that if rainbows and sunshine made noise they would sound like Peter-giggles. He prods its cheeks next, watches adoringly as a bright, gummy grin stretches across—
"Stop poking the baby, Tony, honestly."
Little Red Riding Hood:
"I feel silly."
"Relax, you're rocking it, baby," Tony murmured with a smirk and a teasing snap of his teeth, "Now get over here so I can eat you right up."
"Wrong fairytale. And this doesn't even have a hood, it's just…" Steve's voice dropped to a whisper, "Lingerie."
"You—" Tony pulled him into his lap with a sweet smile and a sweeter kiss. "—are ridiculous. Sexy, but ridiculous."
Steve knows that it's wrong. God, how he knows that it's wrong. More than that, however, he knows that he would sacrifice every shred of morality, of conformity, of normality, for one more stolen moment with the man he loves.
Steve would follow his Prince to the ends of the earth without hesitation, but that was just his duty, clearly nothing more. Prince Anthony was spoiled, was snarky and brash and attracti—arrogant. He meant arrogant.
Thing is, Tony was so tactically brilliant and well-practiced that it took Steve weeks to notice. Whenever Tony wasn't in the Iron Man suit, he wore these gaudy, hipster sunglasses, and Steve couldn't understand why he never took them off. Finally, he gave up and just asked about it; Tony laughed so hard Steve thought he might hack up a lung, and when Tony finally managed to spit out a startled, hysterical, ohmigod I'm blind you idiot, Steve had never wanted to melt into the ground more in his entire life.
All in all, having an incubus for a boyfriend wasn't really all that bad. He had an unbelievably high sex drive, but hey, so did Steve, and it made for some fun nights—nights, mornings, afternoons, any time they could get their hands on each other, really—so that part was fantastic. The tail was a little strange, but he supposed he could learn to live with worse.
Steve is Tony's PA:
Pepper, in her eternal wisdom, decided when she left for her honeymoon her replacement ought to be male and therefore Stark-proof. Neither she nor Tony anticipated Steve Rogers, who clearly existed purely to give Tony an incredibly belated and completely unexpected sexual crisis; unfortunately, Steve seemed to be under the impression that he existed to make Tony sign things and attend meetings. He blushed from head to toe when Tony finally asked him to dinner though, so Tony counted that as a win.
Tony had tried to keep it classy, or at least subtle, but if the sign in the bookstore reading, "Put us out of our misery and just ask him out already!" was anything to go by, Steve, or at least Steve's coworkers, might've caught on.
"You asked me to help you find the Great Gatsby," Steve told him over coffee later, and cut Tony off with a fond eye roll before he could protest,"Eleven times."
The fact that it took him—a genius, thank you very much—so long to realize he was in love with his best friend was, frankly, embarrassing. Steve had just always been there, and the sudden idea that Tony might lose him, that they might move to different cities and grow apart and only ever communicate through texts or letters or whatever else was complete and utter bullshit. The idea of never losing him sort of snowballed from hey please don't leave me I kind of like your face a lot to I'd really like to wake up to you every morning for possibly the rest of my life and before Tony knew it he was grabbing Steve by the front of his robes and kissing him in front of their entire graduating class.
Baby Steve explaining his Bucky Bear:
"D'you think we could we share him, maybe?" the boy who had tried to steal Steve's Bucky bear earlier, Tony, rolled over on his nap mat to face Steve with all the seriousness a four year old could muster, "I had a Rhodey bear, but Daddy took him away cause I made his desk 'splode an' now I can't sleep."
"You hafta be real nice," Steve warned seriously, "He's sens'tive, specially bout his arm. You can't tug 'im. Promise you won't?"
"Promise." Tony nodded hastily.
Steve carefully put his Bucky bear between their nap mats, and both boys fell asleep shortly after, each with an arm wrapped around the shared bear.
Pepper with Extremis:
"Pepper, darling, light of my life, we talked about thi—" Tony started, then stopped when his lovely, wonderful, cruel girlfriend once again flew hissuit out of his reach, "Damn it, Pepper, this isn't fair, I'm Iron Man, it's my thing, I thought we agreed on this!"
Pepper—beautiful, sweet, evil Pepper—just giggled, "It's not my fault your toys like me better now."
"They most certainly do no—Dum-E, nod in agreement one more time and I'll mail you straight to the scrap yard, first-class!"
When Tony kisses him, he kisses with open mouths and bumping teeth and hands burning into his hips, until all Steve can feel is the heat of Tony against him, the loose, easy pleasure of it, the roll of his hips and the lave of his tongue and the small, almost inaudible noise he makes against Steve's mouth when the director calls cut. Steve knows it's only because Tony's a good actor, and he hopes Tony will chalk the desperation of Steve's own grabbing hands up to the same. He knows Tony doesn't like him, that he's just immersing himself in the scene like he ought to, but Steve can't help hoping the director will want to re-shoot it all the same.
Supernatural starring Steve and Tony:
"C'mon baby, if we can stop an alien invasion we can hunt a couple demons," Tony tells Steve with a grin, tugging him into a quick kiss for the road. Before they can load up, however, the angel guy—Castor? Cas something—stops Tony with an inquisitive, strangely serious look.
"I do not understand," he says, quirking his head at Steve now, "He is not an infant."
Tony leans around Cas to give the Winchester kid a look.
"Do you want to teach your pet angel about terms of endearment, or is that on me?"
"I am so done with this," Steve grumbled as he—she? No, he, definitely he, this was reversible, it had to be—tripped in his heels for what must've been at least the sixth time.
"And I'm done with your bitching," Tony decided, except, it wasn't Tony, it was some female that talked and acted and vaguely looked like Steve's usually very male best friend, "We're going to get hot—well, Pepper and Natasha will make us hot, I'm not even sure where to start with all that primping and prodding and whatever it is they do—and then we're going to out and make the best of a shitty situation."
"How can you possibly think of going out right now?"
"Hey, if I can't have my dick, I think I at least deserve a free drink."
High school musical:
When Tony is pushed up on stage for karaoke, he bitches and moans before accepting the mike shoved into his hands with begrudging resentment, while his jerk friends cheer and whoop triumphantly. When he sees his partner though—blonde and bashful, blushing a faint pink only barely visible in the dim rec hall lighting, with the most gorgeous eyes Tony's ever seen—well, maybe Tony could stand to sing a little more often.
"This could be the start, of something new / it feels so right, to be here with you / and now, looking in your eyes / I feel in my heart, the start of something new…"
True Love's Kiss:
When Loki said the spell could be broken only by True Love's Kiss, they'd all pretty much assumed he'd been fucking with them. When Steve was still asleep a week later though, Tony couldn't help himself; it wasn't that he really thought he was Steve's True Love—he was a narcissist, but even he wasn't stupid enough to think he of all people could be Steve's True Love, if things like that even existed—but he couldn't resist the slim flicker of hope, however pointless.
Though, he supposed it didn't seem quite so pointless when Steve surged to life at the briefest touch of Tony's lips.