Archive of Our Own

The suits don’t count.

They don’t.

He would have made them anyway. They couldn’t have expected him to just accept the horrid work SHIELD had done with their uniforms and let it slide, could they? Of course not. Avenging is serious business, and they need to have the right equipment – also, marketing is a thing now, since apparently Tony is going to be the one handling the PR and the accommodations and everything from now on, so he should probably pay more attention to it. He’s fine with it – so long as he can properly make their uniforms and make sure they are high quality and look good. No one is gonna get caught looking like a porn-superhero on his watch, no way.

If the cool kids wanna hang out with Tony, they have to meet his standards. That’s all.

Nick looks at him like he’s tired of Tony’s bullshit, rolling his eye – funny how the eyepatch doesn’t diminish the strength of his unimpressed face, Tony’s sure he practices that face on the mirror –, lips pressed together in an almost grim expression, but when does he not look like that? Tony takes this as permission and designs an entire new set of suits and battle armor, of weapons and stealth equipment, for every single one of them.

Not that he wouldn’t have done it even without Nick’s permission. Or lack of prohibition. Same thing.

He starts with Bruce because… Where else could he possibly start?

(See! He starts with Bruce! No secret intentions behind that!)

He starts with Bruce because the conversation in the Helicarrier is still fresh. Too fresh, uncomfortably so. Despite Tony thinking the Hulk is much more than Bruce is giving him credit for, despite believing, hoping, that if Bruce and the Other Guy could come to an understanding, he can still get why being exposed is not something Bruce feels comfortable with, no matter how strong his other half is.

Tony still flinches sometimes, when he touches the Reactor. He can understand feeling vulnerable.

So stretchy armor it is! It’s harder than it looks like, actually, to find the perfect ration between hardness and flexibility, and as much money Tony has, he thinks it would be best if he could find a way to make it last longer, even with the constant strain of extending and shrinking of fabric, instead of replacing the damn thing every month. That is gonna take a little while.

He works on it until he gets stumped. Then, he sets it aside for a while, and then starts with Cap’s.

(Which is not any indication of favoritism! It’s not!)

He has a reason to do it, too.

Apparently, Cap is gonna be the leader of this little superhero gig they’ve got going on, which means he has to look good. Not that he doesn’t already, if Tony really has to admit, but the suit is… a bit of an eyesore. He doesn’t want to be mean about it, especially not when he realizes Coulson was the one who designed it, and Tony actually feels a little bad if he would just make something entirely new from scratch and erase all of Agent’s ideas, that he so obviously added with such enthusiasm.

The guy had been a Cap fan. Tony can sympathize. More than he should, probably.

So he’s not gonna change much. Unsurprisingly, the structure around his waist is gonna stay – it allows movement without losing protection, and let’s be honest, it makes Cap’s figure look amazing. The color is not the best, but Red, White and Blue are kind of Cap’s whole brand, so Tony compromises: two suits. One with the proper color scheme, and a stealth suit. Dark blue, maybe. Cap would look great in dark blue. The material is nice, to be honest, but the distribution of the padding is not the best, so some redesigning is in order.

So Cap gets two suits. And besides the horrid color scheme of the very patriotic and not stealthy at all one, they look very good, if Tony says so himself.

He mails them to SHIELD.

Nick, the ungrateful bastard, doesn’t send him any thanks, not even a tiny fruit basket.

But Tony gets a report about three months later that the stealth suit works wonders – and Cap is the one who sent it.

And well, that’s all he needed to know.

Tony is not done with the renovations yet when the decision that the Avengers should all move into his tower is set into motion. Which is not to say he wasn’t expecting it, because he was, but the how it happens is that comes unexpectedly.

Unexpected as in: Nick Fury, who was supposed to be dead, is in fact, very much alive, and in his living room.

“Captain Rogers asked me why you weren’t listed as an official Avenger.” Nick says, with all the casualness only a person as smug as him can have.

And Tony says, unhelpfully, “How did you get here?”

“I asked him,” Nick continues, undeterred. “Why he needed to know. And you know what he said?”

“What?” Tony prompts, but then asks, “If you’re not dead, why are you here? Thought you’d get the first flight to Cancun or something. Not the best time to be prancing around when SHIELD has just gone down the hole, is it?”

“He said he needed his team.” Nick answers, with far too much amusement in his voice. “And you are a part of that team.”

“He said that?” Tony reels back, shocked. “Why would he need a team?”

“HYDRA is still out there.” Nick says, as if Tony is being purposefully oblivious. “Look me in the eye and tell me if you think that man is going to let any of them escape, after all he’s been through.”

“Definitely not.” Tony agrees.

“So you better get your ass geared up and call your Captain, Stark. He said you need to assemble.”

“Not my Captain.” Tony stubbornly says, just a little.

Nick huffs, walks closer in lazy, arrogant steps, and pulls out a file. It says Avengers Initiative on the cover.

“Now he is.”

His name is on the Active Roster list. His name. Tony Stark.

“Get to work, Avenger.” Nick smiles, a tiny thing at the corner of his mouth, as Tony ungracefully gapes at the page and can’t find the words to reply before Fury turns around and walks out, like he owns the entire place.

And just like that, Tony is an Avenger.

So Tony gets to work.

He makes floors for every one of them. He figures it would be best. He likes having his privacy, he would bet all his money Natasha and Barton also really, really need to have their own place for them to feel safe and make as many bird nests or hide as many knives as they’d like, and Bruce will definitely appreciate having some nice and quiet and a huge and top of the line lab Tony made just for him. Tony will not let his science bro go bored, no way. So individual floors it is!

He has no idea what Thor and Cap are going to do with an entire floor, though, but he figures some things you can’t go wrong with.

Like a gym. They are big, beefy guys—

(It’s not a come-on, it’s just an observation!)

Thor is a mighty Asgardian warrior and Cap, Tony has heard, has a lot of fun breaking SHIELD’s gym equipment, so Tony is going to have to up his game. He’ll make the best punching bags in the world, and then we’ll see if Cap can destroy any of them. Tony would like to see him try.

So he makes them a gym. With the most amazing equipment ever.

And if in a couple of months, it’s Steve favorite room in the Tower, it’s not like Tony didn’t expect that.

Cap, of course, is the first to show up.

He smiles politely, all American Boy charm and clear blue eyes, despite the fact his posture is as stiff as a board; using a brown leather jacket, jeans, tidy hair and a box on his hands. It’s like he came out from a vintage magazine. “Thank you, Mr. Stark. This is more than enough.”

Tony waves his hand in a lazy gesture. “Call me Tony, Cap. ‘Mr. Stark’ makes me feel old, I’m sure we can skip the formalities if we’re gonna be roomies.”

“Then, call me Steve.” Cap – Steve says, nodding, before turning his head to peer at the room again.

It’s big. Tony doesn’t half-ass things.  It’s very plain right now, but he thought it would be too creepy if he decorated the rooms in addition of giving them entertainment areas. Rooms are more… personal, or something. And maybe Cap would like to decorate it with his old stuff, whatever he managed to get back from old vaults or museums. Best to let him be.

“Sorry if it’s a bit… overwhelming, or something, but I figured it’s better to have a bigger space, you know? You can decorate it, if you want. Barton sure will, he already said so.”

Cap’s brow arches elegantly. “He did?”

“Well, not in these exact words,” Tony shrugs, “but he asked if he could also ask JARVIS to buy things for him and I said yes, and right after that he ordered enough purple paint and oreos that I would be concerned, if I cared. Luckily, I don’t.”

“Right.” Cap replies, awkwardly – and Tony starts to feel awkward too, why is this so awkward.

“Yeah. Well. You can arrange your stuff however you like!” Tony enforces, but then, looks down at the box in Cap’s hands. “Is – Is that it?”

Cap shrugs. “Pretty much.”

“What about furniture? You have anything you need me to send movers to get?”

“That’s not necessary.” Cap gently assures. “I was staying at SHIELD Headquarters. Nothing there is really mine. I have everything I need here.”

That’s… That’s pretty sad.

“You sure about that?” Tony frowns. “I mean, because if you need more stuff, you can get it. Don’t worry, just put it on my tab. If you ask JARVIS, he can get you anything you need. You’ve met JARVIS, right? J?”

“Yes, Sir. We’ve been introduced when Captain Rogers arrived.” JARVIS softly says when prompted. “It’s good to have you with us, Captain.”

“Thank you, JARVIS.” Cap says, and he steals a quick glance to the ceiling, as if JARVIS was there – it’s kind of cute. “And thanks, Tony, but I’m sure it won’t be necessary. I can’t ask you to buy things for me – you are already being very generous in letting us stay in your home.”

“Buddy, I’m a billionaire, money is not really a problem.”

“I’m fine like this.”

But Tony doesn’t like that. He really doesn’t. It’s sad, to watch Cap – Steve – look around with a lost gaze, like he’s a puppy who is missing their owner. The guy must be… very lonely. Tony can’t even begin to imagine what it must feel like, to wake up in a world that is totally different than the one you knew. He heard Steve had been adapting well to technology – but he must miss some familiarity, right? The guy deserves some comfort. Something to remind him that he’s not just detached from everything, in this era. That he still has a place in this time.

“Well…” Tony thinks, and suddenly, an idea occurs to him. “You’re a Dodgers fan, aren’t you?”

Steve blinks, confused with the change of topic. “How do you know that?”

“Pretty sure your entire life is in a museum right at this moment, Cap.”

Surprisingly, he laughs. “Yeah, I guess so.” Steve concedes, if a little embarrassed by the fact. And his eyes gain a mischievous glint, and he even dares to tease Tony by saying, “You saying you’ve been to my exhibition at the museum, Mr. Stark?”

“It’s an American past-time.” Tony nonsensically replies, and he feels a rush of relief and satisfaction when Steve laughs again at his stupid joke. “I’m saying that if you are a Dodgers fan, which I know you are, I know where we can find some pretty cool stuff to you to put in your room if you want to. Not like… in a teenage boy with an unhealthy sports obsession way, but in a collector’s item, autographed merch, fancy stuff, type of way.”

“Autographed?” Steve repeats, strangled, and oh yeah, Tony is definitely giving him something autographed if it’s gonna make him act like that.

“Tell me the name and I’ll get it for you.”

“I can’t. It would cost a fortune.” Steve retreats.

“Wanna bet how high?” Tony insists, grinning. “If you get it right, I don’t buy it. If I do, I buy it.”

“That’s not a fair bet.” Steve complains, but he’s smiling too. “I’ve been asleep for seventy years, I haven’t been up to the economy lately. I heard the inflation is pretty high.”

“Oh, it’s a mess, you’ll hate it.” Tony agrees, but then, decides he’s not having any of Steve’s denial at all. “C’mon. I’ll show you where to find some fun stuff. And also – Cap, we’re gonna need to have a talk about those clothes. I can’t have you living at my tower and dressing like an old man.”

“Technically—”

“Technically, this is my house and you have to follow my rules. That’s how it goes.” Tony interrupts, flippantly. “I’ll even take you to the store instead of buying online. If that will appease your nonagenarian sensibilities.”

And that might have been offensive, or insulting, maybe, but Tony is feeling bold and it pays off, because Steve smiles, he smiles, and drops the box, and follows Tony.

“I’d like that.” He says, and Tony feels good. “Thank you, Tony.”

Steve gets a new wardrobe. And some pretty sweet Dodgers merch. Then almost a heart attack, when he finds out where the Dodgers have moved to, and then, he gets tickets to see them in California, half thanks to Tony’s insistence, half thanks to Cap’s own stubbornness.

The guy has lost a lot – the least he can do is to cut him some slack and give him some nice stuff. Maybe he’ll like the present, the future, more, if he realizes not all of it is foreign.

Baseball is still the same. Tony can take baby steps.

(He’s trying to help, okay? He doesn’t mean anything by it.)

“Hey.” Tony stops Cap when they’re walking, walking, back to the Tower, very much not thinking about how hard the guy’s chest is when Tony accidentally hits him when he raises his arm to stop him, ow. No way. He’s definitely more concerned about the tiny food stand right across the street, another idea sparking in his head.

The guy might need some familiarity—

But he has to appreciate some of the finest things the future has to offer too.

“You ever had a taco?”

He hasn’t.

Tony has to fix that.

Cap, turns out, loves tacos.

And Tony becomes a man on a mission.

As the weeks pass, the others slowly start coming in too. Bruce comes back after a short trip to Calcutta to grab a few of his belongings and moves into the Tower with an ease that is heartwarming to see. Thor drops by to see his quarters, but says he’s gonna be on and off for a while, because there’s a girl he’s seeing in New Mexico and he wants to spend more time with her now he’s down here.

Clint comes in too – and in less than a week, his quarters are a mess. But he says he likes it, so hey, Tony is not gonna worry about it.

He’s a cool guy to have around, Clint. Funny, if a little too distracted sometimes. Big fan of Star Wars, which Tony can appreciate.  But he’s a bit of a walking disaster, so when he finds Cap’s tacos on the counter, that Tony bought for Steve, he eats like three with no hesitation before Tony finds him and startles.

“Those are Cap’s.” Tony points out, so shocked he’s not even mad.

“For real?” Clint blinks owlishly. “Shit, sorry. Didn’t think he was saving them.”

“He wasn’t, but I bought them so he could try them later.”

Clint makes a face. “Why?”

“Seems like he likes them.” Tony explains. “Apparently being Irish and living in the forties hasn’t destroyed his taste buds somehow. Lucky guy.”

“Cap’s Irish?”

“How are you this ignorant to the most basic Captain America info out there?”

“Didn’t get to go the museum a lot.”

“And any SHIELD files…?”

“Got no time to read them.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Tony scoffs. “But food is probably a big deal for him, isn’t it? Growing up poor, in the forties. He tried a taco when we were out and it seems like he likes them, so I thought maybe we could try some other kinds of food, get him settled into the current times.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea.” Clint concedes. “Huh. We could have team dinner. Every week a different thing.”

Tony arches one eyebrow. “You sure this isn’t an excuse to get me to buy take-out for you?”

“I can get my own take-out, but this way, you and Cap can eat it too.”

“Fair point.” Tony shrugs. “You wanna invite your super spy twin too? Thought she’d be here by now.”

“She’ll show up when she shows up.”

“Nice. Creepy.” Tony nods in agreement, and appeased, he turns to go, taking the remaining tacos with him. “I’ll talk to Cap. He’s probably downstairs already.”

“Downstairs?”

“Briefing room. We’re running some training regimes and simulations for me to add to the gym later.”

“Uh-huh.” Clint clicks his tongue. “Just the two of you?”

“Bruce is probably in the lab.” Tony guesses. “He might want some Indian. Maybe Nepalese. There’s a nice place downtown that has amazing take-out. JARVIS has the number. Order it and put it on my tab.”

“Yeah, sure.” Clint says after a brief pause. “I’ll talk to him. You sure Cap can handle spicy food though?”

“He’s Captain America.” Tony shrugs, and leaves, and he pretends he can’t hear Clint screaming at his back,

“That doesn’t answer my question!”

Cap likes spicy food. Tony thinks he just loves food in general. Clint loves the lamb in banana sauce, the heathen, and Bruce eats a shocking amount of the spiciest thing they’ve ordered, which Tony cannot pronounce. It’s… fun. It’s great, honestly.

“Thank you for this, Tony.” Steve says, smiling wide, and almost a little blinding.

“It’s nothing, really.” Tony laughs a little. “It might even help me get back on a regular schedule, for once. Eating, sleeping, and whatnot.”

“If having dinner together every week is what takes, I’m happy to do it.” Steve teases.

“Can’t quit the mother hen attitude, can you?”

Steve laughs. “No, I can’t, Mr. Stark.”

The next morning, Tony finds Natasha eating some leftovers while watching TV, and Tony thinks it says a lot about him that he doesn’t startle or does anything that a normal person should do in this situation.

“What’s the next one?” Natasha asks, casually.

“Cap says Japanese.”

“Really?” Natasha smirks. “Raw fish? You sure that’s gonna go well?”

“Hey.” Tony raises his hands in self-defense. “He said it. I’m just doing what I’m asked.”

Natasha hums, incredibly neutral, and after a pause, she asks:

“Did Clint eat all of the lamb in banana sauce?”

Tony exhales exasperatedly and shakes his head, and leaves before he says something that will get him killed.

Cap is not a fan of sushi, but oh well. He suggests Chilean, and he likes that, then Lebanese, and he also likes it.

Then he says Italian, and Tony can’t let him try anything but the best.

“There’s no better place than Grigorio’s.” Tony tells him, with certainty. “But take out is a no-go – it’s in Boston.”

“Oh.” Steve pauses. “Can’t we order from somewhere else?”

“Absolutely not.” Tony insists. “I refuse to eat the cheap imitation when I can have the best Italian in the country whenever I want. C’mon. We’ll take the Quinjet.”

Tony takes Steve to Grigorio’s – and Steve loves it.

So, they do it again.

And again.

And it becomes kind of like… their thing.

Somehow, Tony ends up showing MIT to Steve.

It came up in a conversation and it just… escalated from there. They go to MIT, then to Tony’s favorite ice cream shop – that luckily is still around –, Tony gets them both gigantic scoops and then they just walk around.

And then Tony remembers that Boston has a Fine Arts Museum.

Since Steve refuses to go to Fenway Park because of the Sox, which is pretty funny in Tony’s opinion, Tony takes him to the Museum. He’s not an art guy himself, and all the art he has collected over the years had been solely for Pepper’s enjoyment, not his own, but he thinks Steve is gonna love it, so it’s worth it. Steve tries not to show how excited he is at the idea, but Tony knows him well enough by now that it doesn’t stick.

Tony Stark, being actual friends with Steve Rogers.

(Friends. You hear that? Friends.)

(Yeah, right.)

Who would have known?

There’s an exhibit on National Identity, which is the most ironic thing that could ever happen and Tony nearly cries of laughter, despite Steve’s threats of leaving him there even though Tony has already paid for their tickets; But in the end, Steve might not have liked sushi, but he is entranced by the details of the Japanese prints. It’s surprising how much fun it is, to visit a museum with Steve. He’s so enthusiastic about this stuff, it’s hard not to get caught up on his energy.

It’s great. It’s really, really great.

It’s great until Pepper calls him the next day, and asks him:

“Are you dating Captain America?”

“What.” Tony balks. “No. We’re friends.”

“It kinda looks like a date, Tony.” She says, referring to the stupid photos on the stupid article she says she saw this morning.

“It wasn’t.” Tony explains. Complains? Affirms. He tells her, “We had lunch at Grigorio’s, and then we decided to walk around. No big deal.”

“I’m not judging.” Pepper kindly replies. “I just wanted to know. If we had to issue a statement or something…”

“No, there’s no need. It wasn’t a date.”

She pauses.

“Did you want it to be?”

Did he?

(Did you?)

“No.” Tony laughs. “We’re friends, Pep. Just friends.”

(“Just friends”, my ass, Tony!)

Steve doesn’t care.

That’s the best – worst? – part of it. He doesn’t give a shit. If anything, it makes him ask Tony out more. Steve manages to drag him to another Art Museum, and that exhibit is boring as hell, so after that, they play basketball. Him. Tony Stark. Basketball, in a public court just outside the small diner where they decide to grab a bite.

Tony thought the petite woman who runs the place was going to cry as Tony handed her the 200 dollars tip along with the payment, but how could he not – Steve had been sitting there after eating eight goddamned burgers all by himself, the troglodyte, that’s the least Tony could do for her.

Steve, the absolute monster, is still wiping the floor with Tony even after eating enough to feed an entire family. Tony is going to demand a rematch. They gather a small crowd around them, a bunch of excited kids who watch them play with stars in their eyes and big grins in their faces, and Tony pretends he’s not smiling back and holding back laugher at their jittery joy, even as they loudly cheer in Steve’s favor and not his’, the little rascals.

Tony buys them all hot dogs.

And Steve has the audacity to ask for one too.

“God, Rogers.” Tony says exasperatedly, and it’s ruined by the smile that stretches so wide across his face that it hurts his cheeks. “You’re lucky you’re pretty, or else I’d let you starve.”

Steve laughs. “Sure thing, Mr. Stark.”

Steve is around the workshop a lot these days.

(Tony…)

(What! What was he supposed to do, kick the guy out!?)

He helps around, when he can. The armor is heavy, you know? Not that Tony is weak by any measure – but hey, if he can save himself the strain and let the super soldier do the heavy lifting, why not?

And it’s nice, to have someone to ramble at.

At first, Steve just hovers a little, and plays with the bots. Dumm-E likes to play fetch. But then, he starts to bring in a notebook. And he won’t let Tony peek into it, but he says he draws.

“You know the Smithsonian has some of your drawings, don’t you?” Tony comments. “They’re literally there for everyone to see. Why can’t I see your sketchbook, c’mon, Steve?”

“No.” Steve laughs. “Those are just small sketches, it’s actually embarrassing they’re on a museum. And these”, he taps the sketchbook, “are personal.”

“Boring.” Tony rolls his eyes. “And your drawings are good. I like them. The ones on the exhibit, I mean. I like the monkey on a unicycle.”

“Oh, God.” Steve groans, and covers his eyes. “That was stupid.”

“No! It’s… cute.” Tony says, uncertain if that’s the word. “Monkey-America, paraded across the country, when all he wanted was to fight. It’s very telling. Very you. I like it. Monkey-America? Captain Monkey?”

“Alright, I get it.” Steve chuckles. “I actually like it too. Not then, not when it happened, but it’s funny, when I think about it. The tights, they were awful.”

“I’m sure.” Tony says, trying very hard not to think about said tights.

“And it’s a cute drawing.” Steve concedes. “Something I’d hang on a fridge, not a museum, but you know…”

“It’s Captain America.” Tony agrees, and even when he turns around and goes back to work, he doesn’t forget.

Tony buys the drawing; and he feels like an idiot when Steve says “You know I could have just asked them, right? Technically, it’s my stuff.”

But then Steve puts it in a frame in his office, and Tony forgets all about the mishap, and just smiles.

“Tony.” Bruce comments one morning, over a mug of tea and the absurd, ridiculous headline of today’s paper reflecting on his reading glasses all the way from where Tony’s sitting on the communal couch.

Is Captain America Tony Stark’s kept man?

Disgraceful. Absolutely tasteless.

(Kind of true.)

(Not!)

“Maybe you should talk to Steve about this.”

“Steve doesn’t care.” Tony says, and it sounds bad, so he corrects, “We’re not dating. You know that. Right? We’re just friends.”

“I know.” Bruce hums. “But maybe, if you’d tone it down a little, people wouldn’t notice it as much.”

“I’m not toning down anything just to convince the press. I’m not embarrassed. Steve’s my friend.”

Bruce sighs.

“Whatever you say.”

They go to the Dodgers game together. And it’s awesome.

But when Tony realizes they’re in Disneyland and have been for an entire day, because Steve is walking around like he can’t believe this is happening, and Tony hadn’t cared until this point, he realizes he might actually have a problem.

Rhodey calls.

Tony can feel the dread crawling up his spine even before he accepts it.

“So,” Rhodey drawls, “Pepper called me.”

“Why.” Tony asks, in a childish tone. “Why would she do that, I mean, what was so important that she would have to call you?”

Oh, he’s rambling. Rhodey knows something’s up when he rambles.

Rhodey hums, totally unimpressed, nodding unconvincingly on the video feed. “She said something about you spending all day with Captain America and not signing the paperwork for weeks.”

“That’s not news, I never sign the paperwork on time.” Tony complains, though he knows it’s not the best argument. “And I don’t spend all day with Steve and the others. But Avenging takes time, and that time has to be spent on… Avenging.”

“Right. And taking Captain America to Disneyland is Avengers business?”

Goddamn paparazzi.

“Of course. Captain America has to meet all the landmarks of our country, I’m not sure if there’s anything more important – I’d say it’s a matter of national concern, in fact.”

“Oh, stop that, Tony.”

“Why should I, if you and Pepper are going to nag me all day about what I do with Steve?” Tony argues. “I’m not even doing anything. We just go out and have fun. You are the ones reading too much into it.”

Rhodey squints at him. Pauses. “Are you sleeping with him?”

“What!”

“Are you sleeping—”

“I heard you!” Tony hysterically interrupts. “No, why would you think that!?”

“I don’t, actually, but I wondered if you knew that’s what the people think is going on.”

“I know what the gossip blogs are saying, yes, but do you think I’m sleeping with him?”

Rhodey laughs. “No. You’re the kind that pines in silence. Sort of.”

Tony makes a dramatic, offended noise. “This is slander.”

“I’m just concerned about you, you know.” Rhodey says, surprisingly soft. “Because you know you get a little intense with your affections sometimes, don’t you?”

“It’s not affections, I’m not affected.”

“You take them to dinner, you get them some earrings or a tie, that’s fine—”

“I am not buying Steve earrings or ties—”

“Then all of a sudden, you buy them a private island or something.”

“That is not true, I have never done that.”

“Not yet, but remember when you closed the Eiffel Tower for an entire night to take your date up there?”

“That’s not fair, how could I know she was afraid of heights!”

“…And you completely missed the point I’m making.”

“No, I didn’t! Better yet, I did, because there is no point.” Tony stubbornly says, crossing his arms and pouting. “I am not doing anything, and I am not sleeping with Steve. We go out, as friends, and we have fun. And what do people care if I pay for everything? I always pay for everything! I pay the Avengers as a group, why are people saying Steve is getting special treatment?”

“So, he’s not?”

“He’s definitely not.”

Rhodey hums again, and Tony knows he doesn’t believe a single word Tony has said.

Crap.  

“You know what?” Rhodey says, taking in a deep breath ans shuffling with some papers at his desk. “I think I’m gonna take a break here at the base. I’m coming up there for the next month. Buy me some cake.”

“You don’t have to!” Tony says in a haste. “I mean, you can come, of course, but you don’t have to! And you’re telling me Captain America is the one using all my money when you ask me to buy you stuff like it’s… Rhodey? Rhodey! Don’t hang up on me!”

The thing is…

When Rhodey comes up to the Tower, it’s July.

July is Steve’s birthday.

And Tony thinks really, really hard if what he’s about to do is too much, if Rhodey will ever let him hear the end of it, but at the same time – how can Tony not take this opportunity to have fun at Steve’s expense?

Besides, even if his bike was a beauty – c’mon! Tony couldn’t let the opportunity slip by!

“You got me a car?” Steve asks, stunned.

“You got him a car.” Rhodey repeats, voice so lifeless that it’s full of judgement.

“A Captain America car!” Tony enthusiastically says.

“Is it a Camaro?” Steve’s eyes are so wide and he is breathless, and it’s honestly worth every penny to see him look like that, despite the face his best friend is making at him.

“I knew you would appreciate it.”

“Thank you, Tony.”

You know who doesn’t appreciate it? Rhodey.

And everyone else.

“You got him a car.”

“That thing is a beauty, I will not have you talking about her like that.”

“A car. Tony!” Rhodey throws his hands in the air, exasperated.

“So?” Tony defensively argues. “It’s not like I can’t afford it! And it’s Captain America themed. On fourth of July!”

“It’s also something really expensive to give someone that’s just a friend.” Clint points out, and oh, are they doing this again? At least Steve is in his room, not here with them.

“You feeling neglected, Legolas? You want a car on your birthday too?”

“No, thank you, I don’t have a license.”

“Does Steve have a license?” Bruce frowns, leaning forward on his chair so he can look at the others.

“I don’t think so.” Natasha says.

“What do you mean, he has a bike.” Tony flails.

“Did you ask him? Because the guy is from the forties, even if he has a license, it expired a long time ago.” Clint reminds him.

Tony pauses. Shit. Does Steve have a license?

Tony will need to check that.

Wait, was he walking around in that bike all this time without a license?

“It doesn’t matter now because you’ve already bought him a custom-made car.” Rhodey insists. “Remember when we talked about private islands, Tony? This fits that category!”

“Oh, c’mon, platypus, it’s a car. I did not buy him a private island. You’re talking like I just asked him to marry me or something!”

“It could be interpreted as a courtship gift.” Thor, extremely unhelpfully, says, “It’s not a stead, in the normal sense, but it’s not unusual in Asgard that warriors would gift steads to their brides.”

“Oh, God, kill me.” Tony mumbles.

“Steve’s the bride?” Clint asks.

“If Tony’s the sugar daddy, yeah.” Natasha shrugs.

“I am not a sugar daddy!”

“Have you been taking Steve to your favorite restaurant every week?”

“Yes, but—”

“Did you buy him tickets to the games of his favorite team, in another state?” Clint asks, with raised eyebrows.

“Once, it was once—"

“You take him to museums and buy him art?”

“It doesn’t count, it was his own—"

“Do you not make some sort of food event for him every time he asks?” Thor frowns, confused.

“Hey, you guys are there too! He’s not the only one benefiting from that!”

“Sugar daddy.” Natasha nods, and turns on the TV, as if that is the end of the matter.

Which is not!

It’s not!

“I’m not Steve’s sugar daddy. I pay for all of you guys’ stuff, all the time. Steve is not getting any special treatment. And if you guys think he is, why don’t you ask for more stuff? You can ask!”

“Will you take us with you the next time you and Steve go to Boston?” Bruce jabs, the look in his eyes far more malicious than it has any right to be.

Tony halts.

Oh, c’mon, really? Really? It’s… It’s his thing with Steve.

“I rest my case.” Natasha says, and turns up the volume on the TV, and Tony feels like he’s been played.

“Ask him on a date.” Rhodey begs. “A real date. Please.”

“We’re friends, Rhodey. I’m not his sugar daddy! I’m not gonna go on a date with him!”

Steve asks him on a date. A real date.

Tony says yes.

Steve pays.

Tony feels like his heart is going to explode – and Rhodey teases him endlessly.

So, in the next day, Tony buys a private island.