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After working for years in a bar, Steve was sure he’d seen and heard everything, met all kinds of people. Honestly, Steve didn’t think he could be surprised anymore during one of his shifts – the night shift, as usual. Because being up early was no part of his biorhythm, and never had been.
He still remembered how teachers had told his mom he was going to fail school back when he was barely in middle school. When his mom started working night shifts at the hospital, Steve had flipped his sleep schedule. He stayed awake all night until his mom returned from work, went to school, and then to his best friend’s house to sleep.
Bucky never minded it and never told anyone. He just accepted Steve sleeping all afternoon while Bucky was doing his homework and studying, and going home after dinner. Steve still couldn’t believe how long it took his mom to figure out his rhythm. But when she did, she wasn’t even mad. She had noticed Steve’s grades had gotten better, but she thought it was because of all the time he spent at Bucky’s place – studying, she thought, not just sleeping.
In the end, she had accepted that her son was simply a night owl whose body and brain worked best after sunset and she let him follow his own rhythm from then on. It had gotten Steve all the way through high school and it was his personal middle finger to the teachers who thought he wouldn’t make it.
Taking the job at the bar had been a no-brainer. All he had to tell his future boss was that he loved working night shifts and he got the job on the spot. At some point, Natasha told him she thought he was totally lying in the interview about loving to work night shifts and only said that to increase his chances of getting hired. But he hadn’t and he knew Nat was really grateful to have him. Steve felt the same.
Natasha was an awesome boss and the Lace was her pride and joy. Her business partner Clint was usually only seen during periods of being seriously short-staffed. Sometimes he walked in with his dog, talked to Nat for a while, and left. Steve knew he was handling the books and that he had invested in the bar when they opened it, but other than that, Steve didn’t know for sure what kind of relationship they had. If Steve had to guess, he would say they were best friends who hooked up sometimes, but he didn’t think that there were romantic feelings involved.
Actually, Steve was sure that the two guys in suits – bankers or lawyers, probably – who came here regularly on Friday nights had more going on than Nat and Clint, on the Feelings level at least, just judging by the soft looks the blond guy gave the other one all the time. Unfortunately for him, the other man was blind and had no idea about all the pining going on. Steve thought it was only a matter of time before blondie got drunk enough one night to either confess his feelings or straight up kiss him. Steve hoped he would be there to see it, because there was no way the feelings weren’t mutual. Steve had an instinct for that.
“The strongest whiskey you have, please,” a voice interrupted Steve from his thoughts while drying glasses.
He looked up and had to admit that he was surprised. Tony Stark of all people was not who he had expected on a random Monday night. Especially not in his business attire.
“Of course, sir,” Steve said, and gave him the requested whiskey, expensive and exquisite.
Tony downed the glass in one go, then motioned to get it refilled.
Steve watched him down that one as well, then gesture again, but this time he was actually waving at the bottle.
“Sir,” he said slowly. “I can’t stop you from getting drunk, but selling you this bottle would be outright dangerous, so, no.”
“I could go somewhere else, no problem.”
Steve nodded. “Of course, you are free to leave at any time, and then I’m not responsible for what you do anymore. But while you’re here, it’s on me to make sure you don’t get alcohol poisoning. My boss would not appreciate someone dying in here.”
“You’re boring.”
Steve huffed, “Maybe I am, Mr. Stark, but at least I’m keeping you safe.”
“Tony,” he murmured.
“Tony then,” Steve said with a smile while pouring him another whiskey. “I’m Steve.”
Tony nodded, but didn’t say anything else.
He stayed for most of the night, not talking, only drinking, typing on his phone a lot, and not even complaining when Steve handed him a glass of water once in a while instead of giving him more whiskey. Steve assumed he was having a really, really bad day.
When Tony was one of the last guests to leave, he was swaying dangerously on his feet, but his driver – a big guy in a suit that Tony had called to pick him up, thankfully – steadied him and escorted him outside and to the car.
Tony had already left a very generous tip, but his driver put a few more notes on the counter as well, probably to ensure Steve would keep his mouth shut about this toward the press. Steve was actually offended by this, because he would never disrespect a guest’s privacy like that, but took the money without saying another word. He was not one for heated discussions at six in the morning. Besides, Steve was sure he would never see Tony or his driver at the Lace again, so there was no point.
Steve was wrong.
Tony showed up at the bar a week later, looking worse than before. He was not in a suit this time and there were bags under his eyes. He didn’t just look tired, but exhausted.
“Long week?” Steve asked when Tony sat down in front of him.
“Very. You got more of that whiskey?”
“Yes, but I could also offer to listen to you vent instead of drowning yourself in alcohol. It’s terrible coping, you know. Been there, done that. It doesn’t do shit.”
Tony laughed at that. “Alright, alright. How about you get me a Long Island Iced Tea and I’ll stick to beer the rest of the night?”
Steve grinned. “Deal.”
By the time Tony was leaving at the end of the night, safely escorted by his driver again, Steve had learnt that Tony’s girlfriend had left him and that it had hit him harder than expected. He had really thought that Pepper was The One, but apparently she hadn’t felt the same way. Now Tony had to deal with the heartbreak and loneliness somehow, mostly by drinking and working.
The Monday after that, Steve was almost not surprised to see Tony again. He looked a little better, like he had gotten at least one full night of rest in the last few days. He smiled at Steve when he sat down at the bar.
“Hey Steve.”
“Good evening, Tony. What can I do for you today?”
Tony thought about it for a moment, then said, “Surprise me with something? No alcohol today, please.”
Steve nodded and got to work. He was pretty sure that if Tony paid attention to the ingredients being pulled he could easily figure out what Steve drink was making, but he could tell Tony was not paying attention at all. At least not to that. Steve could feel his eyes on him while he worked, but Tony seemed content to just talk to him about the meetings he’d had today.
“Voilà, one Virgin Colada. Creamy, fruity, and a true classic even in its non-alcoholic form,” Steve presented and put the glass in front of Tony.
Tony took a sip and nodded approvingly, then laughed, “I might have to hire you as my personal bartender. Would your boss mind?”
Steve laughed, “Yes, she would. Trust me, you don’t wanna mess with Natasha and her hand-picked staff.”
“Money’s not all, huh?” Tony said and sounded a little wistful.
“Definitely not. It helps, a lot, to be honest, but it wouldn’t be enough reason to lure me into another job. I really like it here.”
“Me, too.”
It was hard for Steve not to think about what that meant. Surely Tony was only talking about the drinks, the atmosphere, and the general clientele, not Steve’s company in particular. But Tony did always sit at the bar instead of a table… which meant, nothing, of course. Especially so shortly after a bad breakup.
It became a habit on Mondays.
Tony would come in at some point in the evening, sit at the bar, drink – beer, mocktails, water, whisky, whatever he felt like on that day – and talk to Steve about his work or his friends or new movies he had watched, until it was almost closing time, when he would leave a generous tip on his way out of the door.
Monday quickly became Steve’s favourite day of the week. He always looked forward to seeing Tony again. It was easy to talk to him; he was nice, respectful, and ridiculously smart. He was also into fast cars and mixed martial arts, and when Steve told him he liked boxing, Tony’s smile was almost blinding.
Steve never asked for Tony’s number, even though he thought about it a lot. At first, he could pretend it was too early for Tony after his breakup with Pepper, but with each passing week, Steve knew he was just being a coward. He didn’t want to make things awkward between them by getting rejected by Tony. What if it would drive him away for good? Steve didn’t want that. He enjoyed what they had too much.
Besides, Tony never asked for his number either. And Steve had the feeling Tony wasn’t the cowardly type. If he wanted something, he would not be too afraid to ask for it. And this made Steve even more aware of the risk of him being the one to make the first step in asking Tony out, to a less public place than the Lace.
Steve was content in this little bubble they had built for themselves, even if it wasn’t private, even if it was only once a week. It was special and it was theirs. Steve didn’t even question why Tony had stopped drinking alcohol and simply pretended he hadn’t noticed. He had, of course, but he would never call Tony out on it, even if it was a positive change.
And then Tony didn’t come in one Monday, without a warning.
Steve thought Tony was late as the night stretched on without him stepping into the bar, but when morning slowly rolled around, Steve had to accept Tony wouldn’t be there for the first time in months. It was a strange feeling and Steve wasn’t sure if he should be worried or just confused.
There could be tons of reasons why Tony didn’t have time to go to the Lace today – from business trips to long work meetings to dates. He wasn’t obligated to spend his Monday nights at a bar, talking to Steve. Steve was just too used to it by now. And yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, because why didn’t Tony tell him last week that he wouldn’t make it this time?
When Tony didn’t show up the next week either, Steve started to seriously worry. He even asked Nat, but she hadn’t heard anything either. It made no sense at all after such a long time. There wasn’t anything unusual in the news about Tony either, not even any gossip that he had started dating someone new and just hadn’t told Steve about it.
A month passed, then two, then three.
Steve tried to forget about what he had thought was a friendship with Tony, then laughed about how stupid he was for thinking that in the first place. He didn’t have Tony’s number, they had never seen each other outside of the bar, and the man was the famous Tony Stark which meant his friends were most likely equally famous or rich or smart. Steve hadn’t even gone to college. He was a nobody like pretty much everyone else in New York City.
Still, it was impossible to forget someone like Tony. Steve hated him a little for it, but only because he knew that his crush on Tony hadn’t lessened in the slightest since Steve stopped seeing him weekly. He thought it was even worse now, because he could easily tell he was missing him. And yet, there was nothing he could do about it, other than wait for him to come back.
When he finally returned, it was not in the way Steve had ever expected. It also wasn’t at the Lace; Steve saw it on the news. It was everywhere and it made Steve dizzy and nauseous.
Tony Stark returns from Afghanistan!
Tony Stark finally free after three months in a cave!
Tony Stark announces closure of weapons manufacturing!
He watched Tony eating a cheeseburger live on camera and talking about being kidnapped, about a metal suit he had built in a cave, and a man called Yinsen who had helped him escape, but hadn’t made it out. Tony laughed and called himself Iron Man, and Steve wanted to cry. He turned off the TV and went to work.
Steve told Natasha about what he had seen on the news, and she listened before asking, “And what do you wanna do now?”
“What do you mean? I don’t have his number, Nat. I have no chance of reaching him. What do you think I can do? Go to Stark Industries and ask for him? Make an appointment for… what exactly? Or should I write an email to support that he will never read?” Steve asked, his frustration evident in all of his words.
Nat put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly, “I know it looks hopeless right now, but look, now that he’s back, maybe he will also return to Lace when he’s recovered and the press has slowed down again?”
It sounded too good to be true and Steve sighed, “Maybe. Hopefully you’re right.” He hesitated for a moment. “And if he doesn’t come back?”
“Then you have learnt the important lesson of asking people for their numbers and not wasting time and losing your chance. Even our cute lawyer regulars have finally figured that out by now. You know, the blond guy with his blind now-boyfriend?”
Steve perked up, “They have?”
“Yeah, they got really drunk a few weeks ago and started making out. From what Clint told me, one of them started crying and then heartfelt confessions were made. We were a bit worried they would pretend it didn’t happen or blame the alcohol, but the next time we saw them, they were cuddling in one of the corners, being all touchy-feely and lovey-dovey.”
“I didn’t notice that,” Steve confessed.
“No,” Nat smiled, “Because you were busy thinking about your own crush. I hope you’ll get your happy ending as well, Steve.”
“I’m not so sure about that, but I appreciate the sentiment.”
A few weeks later, Steve was still hopelessly waiting on Tony to come back to the bar, to him. He had allowed hope to bloom again after his talk with Natasha, but now he wished he hadn’t, because the wait was slowly driving him mad. This was even worse than not knowing what Tony was doing.
He always knew exactly what Tony was doing though, which suit he was wearing each day, and what he was working on now that he’d given up the production of weapons. The press had not slowed down and Steve had the feeling Tony was busier than ever. It was comforting seeing him alive and well, but Steve missed him even more now. Watching him on TV was not the same as talking to him and making him surprise drinks. He was selfish enough to want that again, once a week, like he used to.
But with each passing Monday, his hope died a little more.
When Steve woke up one morning, with a dry throat that made him cough and a runny nose, he groaned. Steve hated being sick. He used to be a very sickly kid before puberty had set in and strengthened his immune system along with the growth spurt. Since then, Steve hadn’t been sick often which he was very glad for.
Now his whole body ached, he could feel a headache blooming, and he wasn’t sure if getting up at all would be a good idea. Probably not. Maybe staying in bed until he felt better was the way to go.
He called in sick and Nat wished him well, but not without asking him, in an over-the-top dramatic voice, how she was supposed to replace him for a few days. It made Steve laugh, then cough, but it was worth it. He knew that Clint usually took over when someone got sick, and besides, Natasha wouldn’t allow anyone to work who was not in shape to do it.
Steve would never say he enjoyed being sick, but he couldn’t deny that only moving from the bed to the couch, reading, watching Netflix shows, napping at all hours, and eating lots of ramen wasn’t a nice change of pace once in a while. He tried not to think about work too much, because his life was not only the Lace, but he started missing it quickly anyway. It was probably due to the medicine.
The doorbell woke him up from a nap he hadn’t planned on taking while watching his comfort show, and it really startled him. He grabbed his phone to check the time or if there was a message of someone he’d worried – Nat, most likely – by not answering, but nothing.
“I’m coming,” he murmured, making his way to the door, still a little disoriented after being woken up so suddenly.
He opened the door and all possible words got stuck in his throat. In front of him stood none other than Tony Stark, in complete business attire, and with a brown bag in his hand that smelled really good to Steve after eating mostly ramen for the last couple of days.
“Hey Steve,” Tony said like it was the most normal thing to say after showing up at his apartment without a warning after months of not seeing each other. How did he even know where Steve lived?
“Tony,” Steve breathed, a little overwhelmed, then remembered how pathetic he must look, only wearing sweats and a t-shirt, sporting bedhead, and eyes still crusty from sleep.
“Yup, the one and only. Natasha gave me your address when I asked for you at the bar. She said you’ve been sick for a few days, so I brought food.”
He held up the bag. Steve blinked a few times, trying to process the words.
“You… asked for me at the Lace?”
“Of course I did. It’s been a hot minute since we saw each other and while I do go there for the great drinks, I very much enjoy the company as well,” Tony said. Then, after a beat, “Can I come in?”
Steve nodded and stepped aside to let Tony in. He closed the door behind him and took a deep breath to steady himself. He tried not to think too hard about how his apartment looked right now. It wasn’t like he had done much cleaning in the last couple of days. Steve liked to keep his home nice and clean, but that didn’t mean he could deal with unannounced visitors, in general.
Tony sat down on the couch as if it was his own and Steve followed suit. Then he watched Tony unpack boxes of food and the smell of fried rice, noodles, and egg rolls intensified with every passing second. Steve’s mouth watered.
“I’m gonna guess you’ve had enough soup in the last few days?” Tony asked and Steve nodded.
“Thought so. Feel free to pick first. I’m good with whatever.”
Steve took the fried rice and an egg roll and then grabbed a pair of chopsticks and started eating. Tony took the noodles and the other egg roll. They ate in silence for a while and Steve couldn’t decide if it was comfortable or not. Tony’s presence itself was grounding and nice, but typically they chatted about anything and nothing. It usually wasn’t quiet between them. They had never shared a meal, but Steve had expected there would be talking during that as well.
Only when the boxes were empty and Steve had put them in the trash, Tony cleared his throat and said, “Sooo, I assume you have questions.”
“A lot.”
“I bet. Hit me.”
Steve hesitated before he said, “You know you don’t owe me any explanations, right? We’re… friends, but that doesn’t mean obligations, necessarily.”
“I know, but I want you to know, to understand,” Tony said.
“Which part?” Steve asked. “The kidnapping, your metal suit, Iron Man, or simply not coming to the bar anymore?”
Tony laughed, but it sounded hollow.
“A bit of everything, I guess. First of all, please believe me that I didn’t stop going to the Lace because I wanted to. The press was so hot on my heels, it didn’t feel safe. And that bar is my little happy place and the last thing I want there is the press. It just took longer than expected for them to stop bothering me with the same questions over and over.”
“And now they’ve stopped?” Steve asked.
“Well, they’re way quieter now. I guess they’re waiting for me to actually go through with my new tech and green energy ideas instead of weapons. It’ll be an interesting journey, that’s for sure.”
“Why the drastic change?”
“I was almost killed by my own weapons. I think that warrants a drastic change. It’s not like I didn’t know they were dangerous, I simply ignored the fact they could be used against me as well,” Tony said with a little shrug.
“And then you became your own weapon?” Steve asked and Tony laughed.
“The Iron Man suit isn’t exactly a weapon, Steve. It’s a part of me that enhances my bodily functions and keeps me safe. Yes, it can be used for combat, but that isn’t its main purpose. I’m not gonna make suits for the Army or something. It’s just for me, nobody else.”
“But… why?”
“I think my father and I have caused enough pain and destruction for several lifetimes. It may be too late for me to make amends, but that won’t stop me from trying to do good for a change. Hopefully for good.”
Steve considered that for a moment, then said, “And you can’t do that as yourself?”
“Not the way I want to. I’m not getting any younger and the monsters and villains won’t consider that when they attack me.”
Steve shuddered. “I’d like nobody to attack you.”
“Same, actually, but I’d rather it be me in an Iron Man suit than a civilian without any protection.”
They were quiet for a long moment. Steve took a sip of water, wetting his lips, and wondering if he wanted to ask a question that he didn’t want to hear the answer to. But he had to, even if it was only to know the hurtful truth.
“Where do I fit in your new changed world and perspective?” Steve asked while wringing his hands, because he guessed Tony spending his Monday nights at a bar were out of question now.
Tony gently laid his hand over Steve’s and gave him a soft smile that made Steve melt inside and his heart hammer in his chest.
“Where do you fit? Wherever you want, Steve. You can carve out as much space as you want for you, and I’ll be happy that you’re a part of my world,” Tony said, then laughed, a little embarrassed, and asked, “Too cheesy?”
Steve shook his head and chuckled. “No, I think that was the right amount of cheesy, actually. I want that, too, Tony. Be a part of your life, being able to message or call you when we haven’t seen each other in a while. God, you have no idea how terrible it was not knowing if you were alright for months. And then you were on the news everywhere and I still had no chance of reaching you.”
“I won’t let that happen again,” Tony promised and then put a hand on Steve’s neck to draw him into a kiss that Steve felt was long overdue and a surprise at the same time. It was so, so good that he never wanted it to stop.
He turned one of his hands that was still covered by Tony’s and intertwined their fingers, grabbing at Tony’s tie with the other to pull him closer to him. He could hear a pleased sound escaping his own throat when Tony went willingly.
They broke apart, panting and flushed. Steve thought Tony looked positively dishevelled and smirked at the thought that it was because of something he’d done to him. What a beautiful reaction from an equally beautiful man.
“Go out with me,” Tony whispered against Steve’s lips. “Somewhere more private than the Lace. Just you and I. Maybe even during the daytime.”
Steve laughed, a little breathless, then kissed Tony again.
“Yes, Tony, to all of that. Just…” Steve trailed off, barely suppressing another laugh.
“Just what?” Tony asked, grinning.
“Just give me your damn number, so I can finally call you to make it happen.”
They both laughed, free and playful, before Steve lay down on his back and pulled Tony with him by his tie. Steve looked up at Tony’s smiling face and spread his legs a little so Tony could slot a knee between them. And when his knee grazed Steve’s dick, he knew it was not on accident.
Steve moaned and tried to get more friction, invitingly opening his mouth, too. Thankfully, Tony wasn’t someone to turn down an invitation and let his tongue slip into Steve’s mouth, exploring and playing with Steve’s tongue. Steve could feel the warmth and wetness, and another moan was swallowed by their mouths.
It was Tony who removed himself a little from Steve, chuckling when Steve followed immediately.
“Steve, honey,” he said, and Steve’s arousal increased even further from the way the pet name sounded and hearing Tony’s voice so breathy. “I want this. You. Just as much as you do, just… can we not… on the couch? For both of our sakes? I don’t think it was made for two grown men, especially when one of them is over six foot tall.”
“Sure,” Steve nodded quickly and stole another kiss from Tony before they got up and moved into the bedroom to continue what they had started. Steve couldn’t help but think that this was not the only start they had made today, and he couldn’t wait to explore all their new ways and possibilities in the future.