Of all the things he's expecting Steve to do, it isn't that. It isn't to lean into this little game Tony's mostly sure he's been playing by himself. It isn't to ask where he's staying right now. And surely that also isn't an attempt to actually go there. Steve's probably just trying to check up on him, which is only made clearer when he asks if Tony's sober. Yes. Steve's just being Steve and it's got nothing to do with nothing else.
No reason to get his hopes up. To that, even, he's not sure what he's hoping for, really. He only knows that, for a single second before trying to talk himself out of it, it almost felt like he was getting away with something.
Not quite seducing Steve, but something a few yards close to that.
Tony tips the valet and swings his keys around in his hand. "Perfectly capable of driving. I promise. Scout's honor." Giving a two fingered mock salute as he walks down the length of the front of the building. "I have a Penthouse right now. Hotel. In and out." And definitely not at the Tower, which he absolutely can't stand the thought of. The Penthouse there that he used to share with Pepper. The woman he no longer shares anything with. Not even his heartbreak.
"You know me," he says with an easy grin, almost hoping that's true. "Can't ever stay in one place too long." He pushes the button on the fob to unlock the doors, the car chirping quietly. Then as he opens the driver side door he leans atop it, casting a long glance Steve's way, less thoughtful and more just heat. "You wanna stop by?" Just because Steve's being Steve doesn't mean Tony wants to stop being Tony.
It might be throwing Tony off that he’s not ignoring it or sassing back as he usually would. But Steve has been wondering what if for a while now, and tonight is the first real indication that it might not all be for show.
He nods at Tony’s assurance as he follows, the mention of a hotel making him a little sad. It’s skirting carefully around the fact that Tony hasn’t been with Ms. Potts for a while now. They don’t talk about that, though, the same way they don’t talk about how Steve stopped leaving for weeks at a time to chase a trail gone cold. There is, after all, no sense in being where you’re no longer welcome.
It’s a surprise to realize that yeah, he kind of does know Tony a little now. The look from over the top of the car is a reminder that he’d like to know a whole lot more. It’s still a dangerous game, not knowing how far he can push before Tony either backs off or steps up to the plate, but he’s willing to follow this hunch. The worst it could be is awkward, and he’s had plenty of experience with that.
“Sounds good,” Steve says before opening the passenger side door and folding himself into the seat. He’s aware that there are still photographers around, shutters still audible somewhere on the edge of his hearing. It’s a hell of a feeling to finally put a barrier between that as he closes the door behind him.
His phone buzzes for the first time since Tony arrived. It’s set to do that only for certain contacts, so it’s not surprising when he checks to find a new message from Natasha.
Hope you know what you’re doing.
It must be everywhere if it’s already reached her. Steve sighs, reaching up to loosen his bow tie, and tips his head back against the head rest. He hopes so too.
Another surprise, but this one less so. Seems like Steve's in for a ride tonight, which is fine. That's almost what Tony wants, if he could be sure for a moment what he wants. He's pretty sure it's Steve, but when that turned from idle fun crush into want is a mystery to him. Surely sometime before tonight, but seeing him at the gala all wrapped up with someone else laid it out for him a bit clearer. Now he's acquiesced to going back to Tony's place. Who knows what could happen?
Probably nothing. Tony tries to temper his expectations of an evening that's probably not going to go the way of a dear Penthouse letter. But... well it would be fun if it did.
Until he figures out exactly what all this is, he relaxes a little, visibly so. Once both their doors are shut and he's behind the wheel of his car, he eases back in his seat, engine roaring as he pulls away from the venue. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Steve more or less doing the same. There's no more listening ears- except for his own devices. But those are safe. The two of them are free from their respective galas and all the groping hands and annoyances.
Then Steve's phone goes off and while he's looking at it Tony can't help himself. "Got something more important to do? I can drop you off somewhere." It's more caring and less the charming in control playboy look he'd been wearing all evening. It's not an Avengers thing, certainly, because Tony would have something pinging him, too. But. If Steve needs to go... His reaction to whatever's sitting on his phone makes it hard to tell, though. "At least tell me you didn't give the hostess your number. I'll have to just get you an entire new phone if that's the case."
Steve glances over at the question. The difference between Tony’s public face and how he is in private has changed over the time they’ve known each other. Or maybe he was always like this and Steve is just allowed to see it now.
“No, no it’s fine.”
The idea of him having something better to do is almost laughable. If he does go back to the compound, it would just be another evening of going over reports or training. He used to be better at spending time off, but few things besides the work hold his attention any more.
Tony has the uncanny ability to steal it whenever he’s around. Steve knows this feeling, remembers it from the few times it’s happened before. A first after the ice, though. You sure know how to pick ‘em, Rogers.
The comment about the hostess makes him laugh even as he shakes his head. “Not for lack of asking.” Then, quieter. “Thank you, by the way.”
It would be easy to add that it hadn’t been necessary, much less the way Tony did it. But here, in the safety of a car with nothing overwhelming his senses besides the familiar hint of metal he associates with Tony, Steve is grateful.
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No reason to get his hopes up. To that, even, he's not sure what he's hoping for, really. He only knows that, for a single second before trying to talk himself out of it, it almost felt like he was getting away with something.
Not quite seducing Steve, but something a few yards close to that.
Tony tips the valet and swings his keys around in his hand. "Perfectly capable of driving. I promise. Scout's honor." Giving a two fingered mock salute as he walks down the length of the front of the building. "I have a Penthouse right now. Hotel. In and out." And definitely not at the Tower, which he absolutely can't stand the thought of. The Penthouse there that he used to share with Pepper. The woman he no longer shares anything with. Not even his heartbreak.
"You know me," he says with an easy grin, almost hoping that's true. "Can't ever stay in one place too long." He pushes the button on the fob to unlock the doors, the car chirping quietly. Then as he opens the driver side door he leans atop it, casting a long glance Steve's way, less thoughtful and more just heat. "You wanna stop by?" Just because Steve's being Steve doesn't mean Tony wants to stop being Tony.
no subject
He nods at Tony’s assurance as he follows, the mention of a hotel making him a little sad. It’s skirting carefully around the fact that Tony hasn’t been with Ms. Potts for a while now. They don’t talk about that, though, the same way they don’t talk about how Steve stopped leaving for weeks at a time to chase a trail gone cold. There is, after all, no sense in being where you’re no longer welcome.
It’s a surprise to realize that yeah, he kind of does know Tony a little now. The look from over the top of the car is a reminder that he’d like to know a whole lot more. It’s still a dangerous game, not knowing how far he can push before Tony either backs off or steps up to the plate, but he’s willing to follow this hunch. The worst it could be is awkward, and he’s had plenty of experience with that.
“Sounds good,” Steve says before opening the passenger side door and folding himself into the seat. He’s aware that there are still photographers around, shutters still audible somewhere on the edge of his hearing. It’s a hell of a feeling to finally put a barrier between that as he closes the door behind him.
His phone buzzes for the first time since Tony arrived. It’s set to do that only for certain contacts, so it’s not surprising when he checks to find a new message from Natasha.
Hope you know what you’re doing.
It must be everywhere if it’s already reached her. Steve sighs, reaching up to loosen his bow tie, and tips his head back against the head rest. He hopes so too.
no subject
Probably nothing. Tony tries to temper his expectations of an evening that's probably not going to go the way of a dear Penthouse letter. But... well it would be fun if it did.
Until he figures out exactly what all this is, he relaxes a little, visibly so. Once both their doors are shut and he's behind the wheel of his car, he eases back in his seat, engine roaring as he pulls away from the venue. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Steve more or less doing the same. There's no more listening ears- except for his own devices. But those are safe. The two of them are free from their respective galas and all the groping hands and annoyances.
Then Steve's phone goes off and while he's looking at it Tony can't help himself. "Got something more important to do? I can drop you off somewhere." It's more caring and less the charming in control playboy look he'd been wearing all evening. It's not an Avengers thing, certainly, because Tony would have something pinging him, too. But. If Steve needs to go... His reaction to whatever's sitting on his phone makes it hard to tell, though. "At least tell me you didn't give the hostess your number. I'll have to just get you an entire new phone if that's the case."
Sorry this took forever!
“No, no it’s fine.”
The idea of him having something better to do is almost laughable. If he does go back to the compound, it would just be another evening of going over reports or training. He used to be better at spending time off, but few things besides the work hold his attention any more.
Tony has the uncanny ability to steal it whenever he’s around. Steve knows this feeling, remembers it from the few times it’s happened before. A first after the ice, though. You sure know how to pick ‘em, Rogers.
The comment about the hostess makes him laugh even as he shakes his head. “Not for lack of asking.” Then, quieter. “Thank you, by the way.”
It would be easy to add that it hadn’t been necessary, much less the way Tony did it. But here, in the safety of a car with nothing overwhelming his senses besides the familiar hint of metal he associates with Tony, Steve is grateful.