Stony and something with apple cider/pumpkin spice?
Steve was hit with cinnamon as soon as he walked into the apartment. He took a moment to just stand there, eyes fluttering closed, letting the warmth of the spices just sink in. Cinnamon, of course, on top--but there were also cloves, and ginger, and nutmeg. Something else, too, a little sweeter? He couldn't quite put a name to the scent.
Under it all was apples. He wondered if Tony had baked an apple pie. He liked to tease him with them, sometimes--an American icon for The American Icon, he'd always chortle. It was charming, enough that Steve had never had the heart to tell him that his favorite pie was actually strawberry rhubarb. He inhaled deeply one last time, but he couldn't catch a whiff of baked pastry.
Cider, he realized, eyes flying open, and charged into the kitchen.
"Hey!" Tony exclaimed, slapping his hand away from the crock pot. He hid it with his body as Steve backed off. "That's for tonight."
"Aw," Steve complained, then frowned, brows furrowing together. "What's tonight?"
Tony raised an eyebrow at him, unimpressed, and crossed his arms over his chest as he slowly reminded him, "We're having that Autumn-themed movie night to celebrate the first crisp day of Fall? You said you'd make old-fashioned popcorn balls."
Steve blinked, then quickly turned to look at the clock. Popcorn balls didn't take a long time, but they could be a little tedious. "Fuck, I forgot that was today. I need to shower after that mission."
"I already popped the popcorn," Tony offered, glancing at the clock as well. "I put it in the oven on low because the recipe I found said it needed to stay warm. If you tell me how to make them into balls, I can do that while you take your shower."
Steve immediately started rolling up his sleeves. Popping the popcorn was the most tedious part. He could make the syrup and get the balls started to show Tony how big they needed to be. "Did you get the candy thermometer?"
"Yeah," Tony answered, pulling it from the utensil drawer for him.
"Great. I don't need the syrup to get that hot, so this'll be quick, if you don't mind finishing for me once I show you what to do."
"Always," Tony answered, going up on his toes to press a kiss to his cheek. "Just for that, I'll get you a cup of cider."
Steve turned, catching Tony's chin in his hands. "No need," he said, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips before Tony could question him. He ran his tongue over Tony's bottom lip, urging him a little closer, and Tony obediently let his mouth fall open with a moan.
He tasted like apples, and cinnamon, and a little bit of caramel. He liked to line the rim of his cups with it like a margarita, dip it into a cinnamon-sugar mix. When the hot cider ran over it, it added an extra depth of flavor and sweetness to it. It added an extra depth of flavor and sweetness to Tony's mouth, too.
Tony carefully grabbed his shoulders and eased him away, eyes fluttering at his own reluctance to stop. "We should get the popcorn balls finished," he said, frowning at the pot still in Steve's other hand.
"If we work together, we can finish quickly, and then we can shower together to save time," Steve offered.
"You're cute," Tony teased, leaning up for one last, quick kiss. "Natasha threatened to rip the seams on one of my suits and I'd only know which one when it fell off me if she found us getting handsy again."
"It's our fucking home," Steve complained, but Tony laughed, walking over to ladle out a cup of cider as consolation.
