Send me a Ship and a Number and I will Write a Kiss
Steve first noticed Tony fidgeting while they were driving to the restaurant, an idle but rhythmic tapping of fingers against his thigh. It continued throughout dinner, through their conversation, although it migrated from leg to table and paused only when Tony made varying gestures to emphasize or elaborate while speaking.
He noticed Tony’s speech was a bit more chaotic, slightly less polished than usual. He spoke at length about his projects, plans for the team, that bright kid that lived over in Queens, bits of his life before the Avengers were formed. At one point, Tony seemed to catch himself in his rambling and stopped mid-sentence, averting his gaze and mumbling, “...but you probably don’t want to hear all that…”
Steve smiled softly, chin resting in his hand as he gazed fondly across the table. He reached out and gently placed his hand atop Tony’s. The tapping stopped and Tony looked to Steve, hesitant, curious, and hopeful. Steve nodded slightly and his smile widened, “I do”.
Tony’s face lit up briefly, but so brightly, before he covered it with a cough. He continued the conversation at a more even pace, Steve interjecting occasionally and responding to questions when asked.
They opted to walk home after their meal, letting Happy retire early for the evening. Steve offered his arm as they stepped out into the chill evening. After a beat, Tony took it, looping his arm around the taller man’s. If he blushed, neither mentioned it.
Tony continued to lead the conversation as they slowly made their way to the Tower and Steve let him, content with listening to him speak with a passion and honesty not normally present in his day-to-day meetings and chats with the rest of the team--except perhaps with Bruce.
When the Tower loomed above them Tony removed his arm from Steve’s and resumed tapping against his thigh. He was quiet as they entered the lobby and called an elevator.
“I...um...I had a really good time toni--god I sound like an awkward teenager.” Tony pinched the bridge of his nose.
Steve chuckled quietly, “Yeah, you do.”
Tony huffed. The elevator dinged and the doors opened.
“But I had a great time too.”
Tony raised his head to look at Steve. “...oh. Well, of course you did,” he straightened and flashed his best flirty grin, “you got to go out with me.”
Steve snorted, shook his head and entered the elevator, Tony just behind him and quickly pressing the button for Steve’s floor. At the soldier’s raised eyebrow, Tony stood taller and said, nonchalantly, “A gentleman always drops his date off at the end of the night.”
Steve rolled his eyes, not trying to suppress the grin that seemed to be permanently etched on his face since the date began. Tony smiled along with him before clearing his throat.
“So, since we both seemed to enjoy ourselves and this date didn’t end in fire, disaster, or villainous interruption, maybe we could go out again? Obviously only if you wanted to, I understand if this feels like more of a one time thing to you, an “end it before it crashes” type deal. You don’t need to try and spare my feelings either, I’d rather you be up front about it. Although if you do want to try a second date I know this great penthouse restaurant with a spectacular view of the city and a private art gallery just around the corner. This is, again, only if you wanted to go on anothe--”
Tony was cut off by the gentle press of Steve’s lips against his. He hadn’t even seemed to register the touch of Steve’s fingers under his chin, guiding him slowly to the blonde. Steve took his time, keeping it chaste but letting himself linger and savour the feeling. He broke the kiss when the doors opened again.
“Thursday. 7 o’clock. My plans this time.”
Tony nodded dumbly, still in slight shock over the kiss. Steve grinned and stepped out of the elevator, pressing the button for Tony’s floor as he went. He turned and watched the mechanic’s smile grow to match his own as the doors began to close.
