Work Text:
The armor falls. No fliers to slow it down. No gods to catch him. Steve runs, runs, runs but he’s too slow. Always too slow to save those who matter the most to him. The armor hits the ground and there’s a crunch. He kneels, he tears the faceplate and the armor is… not empty, but not full of life either. There is machinery, metal, oil, but no muscle, no blood, no soul.
“Cap!”
That voice makes Steve stand and turn around.
And Tony’s there. There, gloriously, improbably there. Not wounded, not dead. There is no explanation, but Steve doesn’t care, only runs. He takes Tony into his arms and laughs.
“You’re okay. How can you be okay?”
Tony looks up to him — he hasn’t let go, he won’t let go, they can’t make him — and his eyes are bright, full of life and mirth and something else Steve hesitates to name.
“Wasn’t… armor wasn’t piloted. It took control. It’s a long story.”
“And it’s dead and you’re alive.”
“… yes, that about sums it up.”
Steve laughs again and then he presses his lips against Tony and freezes. This was not supposed to happen, ever. He’s kept a lid on his feelings for years. He’s seen Tony die before, but why now? Maybe that’s it — maybe he has seen Tony die one too many times. He has lost him, more than once, and he doesn’t want to lose him again.
“I…”
“Yes,” Tony says and it’s enough to make Steve kiss him again.