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Starry Night

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For Steve Rogers 90th birthday Tony Stark had offered him anything and everything he wanted. In the end however, the two men ended up sitting on one of Tony's jets heading to wander around Paris.

"Out of all the things you could ever want are you sure this is it?" Stark raised an eyebrow as he glanced over at the other man. "I could build you an art gallery, Steve. I could buy you all the paintings you want. Why do you want this?" he asked but Rogers just smiled kindly then turned back to the window.
"I don't doubt that you could build me an art gallery Tony, but I don't want that," the tall blond man explained. "I don't want a big party. I don't want much at all really. I just want to walk around Paris with you for my birthday. I'm sure you can survive going to Musée d'Orsay with me. I've always wanted to see some of Van Gogh's paintings."
"I could buy you all of Vincent Van Gogh’s original paintings," Tony Stark mumbled. Steve just ignored him.

The two men would only be staying in the city for the weekend. It wasn't a long trip, but it was a trip with one main purpose. Vincent Van Gogh. Tony personally didn't think Mr. Van Gogh was all that everyone made him out to be. Stark saw him as a crazy Dutch man who cut off his ear for some lover or something. But to Steve, Vincent was a genius who through his art portrayed ecstatic beauty. The billionaire just didn't see it.

...

They arrived in Paris around four in the morning on Friday. A limo picked them and drove Steve and Tony to the Hotel de Crillon where they would spend the rest of the day sleeping the suite Stark had paid for. Leave it to Tony to only ever buy the best of the best.

"I really do appreciate this all Tony," Steve sighed as he flopped face first into the mattress of his bed.
"Hey it isn't a problem, it is your 90th birthday on Sunday and one only turns 90 once. Oh, might I add that you are looking fine gramps," the much shorter man smirked from his own bed.
"Oh shut up," Rogers laughed and lazily tossed one of the pillows across the rooms in an attempt to hit the man but missed.
"My, my, Capsicle, you have grown so weak and frail in your old age."
"I'd stop if I was you Tony or after my nap I'll have to whack you with my cane."
"Kinky," Tony winked.

...

Saturday morning:

The morning started with breakfast at the hotel. The one thing the two men both agreed to dislike about fancy five star hotels was that it wasn't really all that proper to go down to eat while just wearing boxers and a baggy t-shirt.
"Bonjour! Comment allez-vous?" Tony greeted Steve as arrived at the table in the dining room where Cap was sitting. Rogers glanced up at the shorter man and smiled warmly.
"Je suis désolé, mais je ne parle pas français,” he replied.
"How are you ever going to get around Paris if you can't even speak French?" Stark asked. He then pulled out the chair that was set across the table from where the other sat. Steve took a bite from his Crepe as Tony sat down.
"Well I've got you of course."
"What if you got lost?"
"I'm sure some people speak English here Tony."
"No shut up, this is France," the brown haired man gasped as he reached into the little bowl on the table getting himself a muffin. Steve just rolled his eyes.

...

"Today the plan is we wander around here on the Champs Elysées for a little bit, then we head to Notre Dame, then The Louvre, and finally tonight we spend some time in Central Paris," Steve explained as he looked at the map in his hands.
"What about lunch?" Tony whined as he trailed along beside the man.
"We'll find something when it comes lunch time."
"What about the Musée d'Orsay? Wasn't that silly gallery the whole point of this trip?" the smaller man asked.
"The Musée d'Orsay and the Eiffel Tower are tomorrow," Rogers explained. He then grabbed the others hand and pulled him towards some attraction that Tony really didn't care about. However, it seemed that wandering around alone with Steve was just right. It was peaceful to not be surrounded by the distractions and busy atmosphere of New York.
"So what exactly is that?" Tony asked with no real interest but rather he had a need to have Steve Rogers explain it.
"Well," the man out of time began. Tony listened.

...

That was how the day was spent; looking at things, walking around, and having Steve explain things just so the brown haired man could hear his voice. Tony's hand had found home entangled within Steve's fingers. It was odd all of this. Every single second he spent with the tall blond man in the city of love. Why? Because Tony didn't do love. He thought of himself as a player and settling down didn't have much appeal to him as it did Steve. However, Stark wouldn't admit this aloud but when Steve was explain something about Notre Dame the passion in his voice and the glisten in his eyes made the younger man's heart flutter.

...

It was around eleven when Steve and Tony arrived back at the Hotel de Crillon. This was early for Tony to even consider sleep but after the long day he was too tired to stay awake. Tomorrow he had listen to Steve ramble on and on about how much he loved Van Gogh. But it was also the man's birthday so Stark would have to put up with it.

...

Steve was like a child on Christmas morning, the man had literally jumped onto Tony's bed to wake him up.
"Come on Tony! Times a ticking!" he shook Stark's shoulders and then bounded off to get ready.
"For 90 he sure has a lot of energy."

...

Breakfast was the same as it was the day before. Steve had a couple Crepes (the man could eat a lot!) Tony on the other hand, again just had a muffin. After the quick meal they were off to gaze at art for hours. Tony still would have much rather liked a big party at Stark Towers but this was Steve's choice.

"Tony, I'm so excited for this," the soldier chirped happily as they headed out of the hotel.
"Hey it is no problem big guy. I mean it isn't like I mind spending time in Paris after all have you seen them French girls? Oo La La!" Stark smirked but Steve only replied with a frown.

...

It was the moment where Tony knew he was surely done for. The way his eyes lit up when he examined the painting. The way his voice sounded when he spoke. There was this passion, this love for the work. It was as though Steve understood it. He could see how the stars would shine in such glowing spheres of light. He could understand why the night was a swirl of lights and darks. It was as though this wasn't a painting at all but rather a window into the world.

Tony knew nothing about love. He only knew lust but never love. What a weird feeling it was. The way the reactor whirled a little faster as he thought of Steve and there was this feeling in his chest it that wouldn't leave him. His breath hitched. There was a new emptiness rising in between his fingers. The only thought that swam in the lonely man’s brain was 'this must be love.'

Tony Stark had fallen head over heels in love with Steve Rogers while gazing out into a Starry Starry night.

He swallowed the feelings and tried to snap out of the haze. Tony wouldn't allow himself to fall in love. Not with Steve. A future with Steve however, was as possible as Vincent Van Gogh rising from the grave to paint the bullet that killed him.

...

"What was your favorite Van Gogh painting that we saw today Tony?" Steve Rogers asked as he looked up at the Eiffel Tower.
"Oh I uhm liked the one night café," Stark explained softly. Rogers nodded.
"My favorite was the sunflowers," he admitted.
"The sunflowers? I've never been all that fond of those flowers."
"Why?"
"They are always in-between living and dying, it is rather disgusting actually," Tony explained with a shrug. "It makes them seem almost human in a way."

The two men stood there in silence for a few seconds. The only sounds came from the bustle of the city and the other man breathing softly. The Paris city lights danced around them, warming their cheeks with bright colours.

"I've never known love," Tony spoke without thinking.
"What?" Steve looked towards him but the question was just ignored.
"I never thought I needed it I guess. I grew up without really knowing much about it. Love was always that silly thing in movies or books and I never really thought much else of it. Steve I'd never been in love. Not until we went on this stupid trip. I realized I can't do this alone. Oh god, Steve, I'm lonely," there was a sadness in the way Tony spoke that nearly broke Steve's heart.
"What are you talking about?"
"This isn't right and I'm sorry, but Steve," Tony whispered and turned to face the tall blond man. "Who would have ever thought I'd fall in love in Paris? I mean what are the chances of that?"

All logic and doubts had been pushed to the back of Tony's mind. He leaned up to meet Steve's lips. It was a soft kiss. A kiss Tony wasn't in the least bit used to. It was however a nice kiss. A perfect kiss, a kiss that was too short because Stark pulled away quickly.
"I'm sorry Steve I shouldn't have done that," he apologized. Rogers however didn't reply right away, instead he placed a hand on the shorter man's cheek.
"Don't be sorry Tony; there is nothing bad about getting kissed finally by the man you love while in Paris. But what are the chances of that," Steve chuckled. He leaned down to kiss Tony for a second.
"...ils vecurent heureux et eurent beacoup d'enfants," the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist whispered to no one but the wind, the city lights, and the man he thought he hadn't needed until that starry starry night.
...

"I'm giving my life to the only one who makes the moon reflect the sun
On that Starry Night, he changed my life."
-Starry Night by Chris August