"No, I…" Steve didn't know what Tony was going on about, karma or whatever, but he searched for a good reason, any good reason to make Tony stop walking away. He didn't want to lie, but it was the only good excuse he could think of. "I haven't seen a phone like that before. I was curious but I'm not very good with technology and I got carried away. I really am sorry. If it helps, I haven't slept in three days because I've been chasing down a previously-thought-to-be-mythological Norse god, I'm not making the best decisions."
Tony stared at him openly.
"Run that last bit by me again?"
"I could tell you more over dinner?" Steve said before his brain could catch up. Oh god, he was in costume, Tony probably thought Captain America had just asked him out. What was wrong with him today? "In the mess, I mean. Not like a—just, in the mess. I'll explain."
Tony continued to stare. Steve saw his eyes drop to his phone, then back up, clearly making a decision. Steve couldn't help feeling a bit hurt, even though he'd been pushing Tony to come with him; Tony had clearly made the conscious decision to spend time with Captain America over Steve.
"Tell you what, I'll meet you there." Tony opened his phone again. "Give me a minute, okay?"
"Sure thing."
Good, that would give him time to see what Tony's message was. Steve left in the direction of the mess hall, pulling out his phone the moment he was out of Tony's sight. Nothing was waiting for him, and it took a minute for the latest message to pop up.
Hey, I'm heading home. Want to come over?
Steve's initial reaction was confusion. Tony wasn't heading home, why would he tell Steve to come over?
Then he got it; Tony was ditching him.
Well, Captain America him. He couldn't deny part of him was over the moon—he was so sick of being a figurehead first and a person second, and here Tony had gone and disregarded the figurehead entirely—but he couldn't help worrying. Tony had disliked Captain America so much he'd left without so much as pretending to fake a reason. Heck, he didn't even know what had made Tony want to ditch him in the first place. Well, Captain-America-him.
This was all so complicated.
Tony was at the very heart of the complication, and yet all Steve wanted to do was see him again. He blamed the lack of sleep. Honestly, he could focus on figuring out how not to get crushed under the weight of his secret double life later. Right now, all he wanted was to curl up with Tony and listen to him rant about movie inaccuracies until he talked them both to sleep.
I'll be there in ten.
Works for me, I need to wrap up something in the lab real quick anyway. If you get there first, just hold up your phone to the lock and JARVIS'll scan you in. Make some popcorn while you're at it, I'm starving.
Steve stopped where he was, completely thrown. Tony had given him a metaphorical key to his apartment? Without even telling him? They'd known each other two months at most, and sure, Clint was right, they visited each other's classes and talked near constantly and Steve practically lived there anyway, that wasn't the point. The point was that Steve was lying to Tony constantly, every time he opened his mouth, and here Tony was, trusting him.
God, Col. Rhodes was right, he was horrible person.
Tony, you barely know me, why did you give me a key?
I think 'barely' is a bit of a stretch, you pretty much live on my couch. And it's not a key, it's a passcode. Much more practical.
Key, passcode, whatever you want to call it. For all you know, I could be a serial killer!
Steve, I don't know if you realize, but you wake up an hour before me, and your response to having me unconscious and vulnerable is to bring me coffee and make us breakfast. If you're a serial killer, I highly recommend a career change.
Okay, so serial killer was a bad example. I'm not saying we're strangers, I'm saying a key to your apartment is a lot of trust you shouldn't throw around so easily.
I'm not throwing anything around easily, I have trust issues the likes of which you can't even comprehend. But I know you well enough to know you're not going to rob me or let drug dealers in, mostly because you believe that Stealing Is Morally Wrong and you'd probably somehow turn the drug dealers into upstanding citizens with one withering glare and the suggestion that they rethink their life choices.
Tony had buried the truth in blithe jokes like always, but Steve saw through it; I have trust issues the likes of which you can't comprehend. There was an implied but I trust you anyway there, and it made Steve's chest ache with the desire to protect Tony from himself, and his stomach near sick with guilt. He was going to hurt Tony no matter how he went about it now. He still didn't know what he was going to do in the end, but he knew that after all that had happened between them, he couldn't just walk away now.
He needed Tony. What Col. Rhodes had said, about how they'd helped Tony move on, it was true in reverse. Tony had helped him move on from his grief without even knowing it, had given Steve a life again, and he could no more forget Tony than he could forget a body part.
You're ridiculous.
It was a lame response that didn't even begin to cover the scope of how Steve felt at the moment, but it was all he could think to type. Tony's reply was immediate.
And you're a good person. So will you stop making a big deal out of nothing and just use the damn passcode so I can have warm popcorn waiting for me?
I should let a drug dealer in just to spite you.
But you won't.
Not this time. But only because I'm hungry and I want your popcorn.
Works for me.
He was almost assuredly going to hell.
"No one says we're going to just drop him—"
"What, you're going to pretend to be Clark Barden, gym teacher for the rest of your life—"
"Of course not, but people move, it happens, we can call and text and—"
"He has a private fucking plane, you think he's not going to try and see you every once in a while—"
"Stop."
The one word, hissed instead of yelled but all the more demanding for it, drew both boys' attention. Natasha had stayed silent throughout their bickering, but she'd had more than enough.
"Colonel Rhodes, none of this was meant to happen and holding it over our heads is no way to begin working as a team. Steve's attachment in particular is regrettable, but they're both grown men and they will fix it or they will cope but either way they will do so themselves. In the meantime, we don't have to agree on everything but we are teammates, and I expect you to be able to act professionally."
It wasn't a question by any means, but Col. Rhodes nodded anyway. Good boy.
"Barton, with me."
She turned on her heel and left, knowing Clint would follow. There was no reason to have a disagreement with him in front of Col. Rhodes, and oh, there was going to be a disagreement; she knew him too well to expect anything else. They barely made it into the hall before he spoke up.
"Tasha, no."
"You know as well as I do we don't need to be there anymore."
"We were barely needed in the first place."
"It was recon for Steve."
"It was Nick's way of making us take a vacation since we won't use our days." Clint snorted. "And you know it."
"Phil—"
