Steve turned away again, focus back on stripping out of his uniform and dressing in whatever clothes Mrs. Barton had thought would fit him. He almost didn’t catch the noise from Tony, attention diverted as it was. But behind him, obvious to his perfect hearing, was the softest “…oh.”
Frowning, Steve stopped, half his top unbuckled. “Tony?” He called out in warning. After a beat of silence he turned around. Tony still had his underarmor on from his waist down. He was clutching it up his chest, like he’d suddenly come down with a case of modesty. Which was ridiculous, Tony was always more than comfortable changing around the team, especially since he’d gotten that thing out of his chest. And especially since he and Steve had started being… doing… whatever you called it.
“Tony?” Steve asked again.
Tony shot him a grin, quicksilver fast. Steve’s eyes narrowed. “Hey, can you believe old Mrs. Barton set up Natasha and Bruce in the same room? Think she knows? Trying to play matchmaker?”
Steve saw through the change in subject for what it was, but went along with it. For the most part. “If she’s playing matchmaker it makes me wonder why she stuck us together,” he pointed out with a sardonic little grin.
Tony laughed. Tony laughed too loud and too hard and was hurrying towards the bathroom. What the hell? “Yeah yeah, right! Maybe she’s, ah. Maybe she read about me and Pepper in the tabloids, uh. You know.” Tony laughed too loud. He was between Steve and the bathroom door now, and still inching closer to it. Steve’s eyes narrowed.
“Too bad Pegs has her beat at matchmaking us,” he pointed out. He took one step towards Tony as he spoke. Tony scurried a little closer to the bathroom threshold.
“Sure does, good old… Aunt…” Tony’s fingers fiddled with his underarmor one last time. Then his shoulders sagged and he shook his head. “I’m not going to get away with this, am I?”
Steve took another pointed step closer. “Whatever ‘this’ is? No. You’re not.” A shot of fear went through Steve as he tried to remember what Tony had gone through while Steve was… out of it. He’d had to take down Bruce, he had been in the hulkbuster armor. The underarmor didn’t seem cut or injured in any way, but that didn’t mean the man underneath was fine. It could be a pull, internal injuries, concussive force, a fracture…
Steve held his hand out and gestured. “Tony. Show me.”
Sighing, Tony dropped the balled up underarmor from his chest and shimmied it the rest of the way off.
The good news was, he clearly wasn’t injured. The bad news… Steve cocked his head. Bad news? Good news? …embarrassing news, for certain, though Steve wasn’t sure which of them should feel more embarrassed.
“For luck,” Tony grumbled. Then he straightened up and flicked the waistband of his star-spangled Captain America officially-licensed boxer briefs with a jaunty grin. “Look: you’ve got a whole team to worry about when you’re in the field. This way, I’ve always got you covering my ass.”
The cocky facade didn’t have Steve fooled for a minute. He stared at the replica of his shield over Tony’s groin and tried to figure out exactly what this meant. Did this mean feelings? Tony was clearly embarrassed about this, so he hadn’t meant for Steve to see this. So it wasn’t a joke or prank at Steve’s expense. Or it wasn’t meant to be.
“Tony, do you…” They hadn’t talked about it. About what they were doing. Steve still wasn’t sure if he was past Peggy-–the vision today certainly hadn’t helped. And Tony… Tony was still hurting from the break up with Pepper, even if he pretended he wasn’t. But this…
“Steve, come on. It’s just fun. No need to…” Tony gestured between them and hen pulled a face. “No need to get all you about it. Leave the lovey stuff for old MacBartons.”
It wasn’t just fun. Steve could see it in Tony’s face. It was something more than that, something Steve wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to tease out. It was all wrapped up in their shared yet disjointed pasts, in Howard and Peggy and all those little things Tony never talked about, but Steve could see in his eyes every time he looked at Steve.
But right now wasn’t the time. The world was ending and their team had to stop it. They had a minute to breathe and regroup, but no time to tear each other down and build themselves back up. Time enough for that later, once they had saved the day. Again.
Steve smiled, dropped his head. All that could wait until the war was over. But if the last war had taught him anything, it was not to wait on certain things. Taking a step closer, and then another, Steve penned Tony in against the bathroom doorframe. His hand slipped down between them, fingers teasing at the elastic band of the boxer briefs. Tony perked up instantly.
“You know, I kinda like the way they look on you.”
Tony’s breath quickened. “Yeah?”
Leaning in further, Steve bent down so he could nuzzle at Tony’s jaw. Tony automatically stretched up on his toes, trying to give him better access. Steve’s fingers continued to play with the band. “Yeah.”
Steve’s fingers slipped down, reaching inside for the semi-hard length trapped within. Pressing a kiss to Tony’s jaw, Steve murmured: “What if you left them on.”
Tony’s whole body was at attention, his focus entirely on Steve. “We could do that,” he said, too fast. Steve huffed against his cheek and nipped at his jaw. Tony pressed against him.
The angle was awkward, but Steve managed to jerk Tony to full hardness inside the underwear. By the time he dropped to his knees and started sucking Tony through the shorts, Tony was plastered to the doorframe, one hand gripped too-tight around the wood, the other yanking at Steve’s hair. Steve smiled at his stupid, officially merchandised shield as he sucked the star–-and the head of Tony’s dick behind it–-into his mouth.
There were feelings and bits of Tony in these boxers that they could talk about on another day. For now, Steve was happy enough to have Tony here, to have him alive. And to get a return blowjob out of the situation, a few minutes later.