"What? It's not like he's killed people." Tony rolled his eyes dismissively. "He's not trying to take over the world, or enslave the human race or anything."
"Your old company is one of the ones he's trying to destroy."
"And I'm sure they've briefed you on why I'm no longer involved with said company. You ask me, I couldn't care less what Iron Man does to StarkIndustries."
The kidnapping flashed through Steve's mind. Did that have something to do with it? Col. Rhodes had said the Ten Rings had kidnapped Tony. Terrorists, weren't they? Steve knew of them only vaguely. They were based in Iran, he thought—no, Afghanistan. Tony had made weapons, he'd been kidnapped, he'd stopped; these pieces fit together somehow, but now didn't seem like the time to ask. Especially when it wasn't Steve but Captain America Tony would be giving an answer to.
"You've been kidnapped by him rather often." Tony gave him a lingering look as they passed stairwell 3. "What's your impression?"
"Of Iron Man?" Steve blew out a breath. "Well, you're right about one thing, he doesn't want to kill people, clearly. I suppose I wouldn't necessarily even call him evil, exactly. Just…misguided."
"Misguided." Tony blinked.
"Very misguided." Steve amended.
"The guy blows things up for a living and kidnaps you in his spare time, and you think he's misguided." Tony shook his head with a chuckle. "You're something else, Cap."
"I've been told." By you. A lot.
Silence fell between them for a moment, and, because Steve was an idiot who couldn't leave well enough alone, he was the one to awkwardly break it.
"I could help you. With your, er, friend. If you'd like."
"Who, Iron Man?" Tony teased, pretending not to understand. "We're strictly platonic these days, him and I. We had our fling back in the day, but the supervillainy was kind of a deal-breaker."
"You know what I meant." Steve smacked him, the familiarity coming to him all too easily. He'd have to watch himself better, but Tony didn't seem to notice anything odd. Well, odder than he was already being, of course.
"Is Captain America trying to give me love advice right now?"
"I don't know, are you listening?"
"You're terrifyingly sassy for a ninety-year-old."
Steve let out a huff of air that was more fond than aggravated, and allowed himself a brief moment to really look at Tony for the first time since they'd bumped into each other. Tony was smirking at him a little, eyes bright with humor, but he had the beginnings of circles underneath. His hair was mussed, like it got sometimes when he ran his hands through it too much, and there was a smudge of black across his cheekbone. Grease? Motor oil? Steve had no way of knowing.
He didn't look like he'd gotten much sleep these past few days, but it was an eager kind of sleeplessness. Tony had probably been ecstatic to be back to work, even if it inadvertently involved weapons. Tony loved engineering, loved building things with such endless enthusiasm he'd probably just forgotten the concept of time altogether.
God, he'd missed this man.
"You're…" Steve searched for a phrase that wasn't perfect, painfully gorgeous, or everything I've ever wanted but never knew to search for. He settled on something he'd heard his mama call Bucky once, throwing in a bit of Brooklyn to really sell it. "Well, you seem like a real put-together fella."
"Flatterer." Tony rolled his eyes, but his smile was much more real now. He attempted a mimic of Steve's brogue, though it came out a bit more like a Southern drawl. "You're pretty swell yourself, handsome. Them dames must just eat you up with a spoon, huh?"
"I wouldn't say that." Steve shifted, careful not to dwell on how Tony's twangy accent, however bad, had sent an irresistible little shiver through him.
"More's the pity for them, I suppose." Tony shrugged easily enough, and any air of flirtation disappeared as they reached the ground floor and Tony beelined for his phone.
"God Almighty, does that thing still work?" Steve blinked in surprise. The casing didn't even look dented.
"A Stark original." Tony waved it with a grin. "Only two in the world. These things will survive a nuclear blast."
"Two?"
"The friend I mentioned has the other. I swapped it out when he wasn't looking and told him it was an upgrade."
"You what?" Steve demanded indignantly. Tony seemed taken aback, which was pretty fair considering for all intents and purposes he had no idea why Captain America would care.
"Uh, well." Tony shrugged. "Technically speaking, it is. I just didn't upgrade it directly from his old phone. That thing was insultingly useless, but he's way too proud to just let me give him a new one, so. I swapped it."
"You're unbelievable."
"That's what they say." Tony grinned, but it was more show and less Tony than he was used to. "I'll just be a sec, then we can go."
He bent to pick up and open his phone, likely to text Steve again. Shit—his phone's volume was on. If Tony texted him right now, Shoot to Thrill would go off and there was no possible way a genius like Tony wouldn't put two and two together.
"Can I see that?"
Without any thought or plan, Steve quickly grabbed Tony's phone. He fumbled with it, pressing whatever button he could.
"Hey, what're you—hey!" Tony snatched it back, but not before Steve managed to delete the conversation. That wouldn't stop Tony by any means, but it did derail him long enough for Steve to switch his own phone to silent. "What the hell? I was saving those!"
"You were…what?" Steve paused.
"Some were work-related." Tony lied smoothly. If Steve didn't know for a fact it wasn't true, he almost would've bought it. "We work together, and there was important, work-related information in there that I needed to save."
"They didn't look work-related."
"Well, they were, okay, just—you know what, I don't have to explain myself, who the hell goes around stealing people's phones, anyway? You're Captain America for Christ's sake, what're you doing snooping through my things?"
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean…" Steve shook his head. "I'm sorry. That wasn't right of me."
"…" Tony regarded him suspiciously for a long minute. "Fuck it, this is probably karma. I'm just gonna go find the mess hall on my own."
"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.
