Archive of Our Own ^beta

The familiar scent of disinfectant greeted Steve as he pushed open the doors of the Maria Stark Children's Hospital. A wave of relief washed over him — he’d had a long week but this place never failed to make him feel better (which, as Bucky always pointed out, was an odd sentiment to have about a children’s hospital)

"Captain Awesome has arrived!" he declared with a flourish, heading towards the playroom. Today, his bag held a special surprise; a brand new origami kit he'd found at a thrift store. Peter had been fascinated by the folded paper animals Steve had shown him last week.

The playroom was a whirlwind of activity. A group of children were constructing a precarious tower of blocks, their faces etched with concentration, and a group of teenagers waved as Steve passed them. He spotted Peter in a chair beside them, a frown creasing his forehead as he wrestled with his shoe.

"Looks like someone's having a tough time taming the shoelace beast," Steve chuckled, crouching down beside him.

A relieved smile spread across Peter's face. "Hi, Steve. Yeah, this stupid shoelace won't cooperate."

Steve took the shoelace gently, expertly twisting it into a secure bow before Peter could protest. He had learned by now that there was nothing Peter hated more than being made to feel weak — even if having just gotten over leukemia was a good enough excuse to have someone tie your shoes for you. "There you go, all conquered," he said, handing his shoe back. "Now, what exciting adventures await us today?"

Peter rolled his eyes. “Save your Captain Awesome routine for the kids, Steve,” he started, but his eyes lit up when he saw the origami kit peeking out of his bag. "Holy shit, is that for me?"

“Would I be Captain Awesome if I didn’t keep my promises?” laughed Steve. “They’ll probably be a bit complicated, but I figured we could do a couple together.”

“That’s really sweet of you, Steve, but could we maybe do it another day?”

“Definitely, bud, are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, but Mr. Fury just told us that Tony Stark’s coming in to the hospital today. He’s donating a crap-load of money—”

“Don’t swear, Peter,” said Steve automatically.

“—and I’d really love to pick his brains about all the robotics stuff they do at Stark Industries. And the Iron Man suit! I have so many questions about it, and how it runs and everything. He’s also—“ Peter blushed, “—kinda hot.”

“Peter!” laughed Steve, “He’s more than three times your age!”

“You didn’t disagree with me,” Peter smirked, “What d’you think of him?”

Steve thought back to the last few times he’d met the famous Tony Stark; a couple weeks ago when he’d been volunteering at a nearby shelter, and the time before that when he had helped at a charity for kids with cancer. Every time, Tony Stark had come in like a hurricane, showering the shelters and charities with donations, and retreating in a blaze of glory, while the volunteers like Steve were still doing the grunt work. He’d seemed nice enough, but there was something about him that Steve simply couldn’t gel with. He tried not to feel a bit hurt that Peter would prefer Stark’s company to his.

“I’ve met Tony Stark before,” he said nonchalantly, smirking a little as Peter’s eyes grew to about three times their normal size. “He’s… eh. Pretty average for being such a famous superhero and all.”

“No. Fucking. Way.”

“Peter!”

“You HAVE to introduce me to him.”

“I don’t know him or anything,” said Steve, “We’ve just met a couple of times. He probably doesn’t even remember who I am.”

But here, Steve was wrong. He’d left Peter to his own devices, trying not to over-excite the kid if Tony Stark was indeed coming to the hospital today. He was sprawled face-down on the floor, ‘tied up’ as Captain Awesome with a group of six-year-olds — was there ever a more adorable sight than little Wanda using her cannula as a laser gun? — when the room suddenly went quiet.

“Fancy seeing you here,” said a smooth voice above him, and Steve jumped. He scrambled to his feet as quickly as he could, smoothing his hair and tshirt out, but Tony Stark’s clear blue eyes were still fixed on him, amusement clear in his face. “Steve, wasn’t it?”

“Mr. Stark,” said Steve cautiously. “Good to see you again.”

“Please, call me Tony,” he replied. “After all, we’re not strangers anymore.”

Steve had no idea what to say in return, but he was saved from having to find an answer as the kids got over their awe and started yelling and screaming, vying for Tony’s attention.

“You do know him,” said Peter accusingly, and Steve ran a weary hand over his face.

“Yes, I had Tony Stark see me with my butt in the air; that’s how the best relationships start.” Peter rolled his eyes again. “Anyway, you don’t need me. You just go up there and be your usual brilliant, charming self, and Tony Stark will love you.”

“I am charming and brilliant, thanks for noticing, Steve.” Steve smacked him upside the head. “But not as charming and brilliant as you’re going to be when you talk to Tony Stark again and tell him how attractive you find him.”

“Peter, I said nothing of the sort.”

“You didn’t disagree with me, which is basically the same thing as saying it.”

“And you did say it, so why don’t you go tell him yourself how ‘kinda hot’ he is?”

Peter punched Steve’s shoulder. “First of all, I’m 16, that would be weird, you creep. Second, you’re okay-looking, and you’re single. Why don’t you just talk to him?” Steve simply grinned.

“Exactly, you’re 16, and I’m not going to take dating advice from a 16-year-old. Now stop abusing me and go talk to your hero before the kids eat him alive.”

He watched Peter walk up to the Iron Man suit and examine it curiously. Before long, Tony Stark was explaining how the suit worked to his interested audience, clearly enjoying the questions Peter kept lobbying his way.

Steve sighed and began packing up his stuff — Captain Awesome was no match for Tony Stark and his Iron Man suit.

******

“We have got to stop meeting like this.”

Steve jumped, managing to upset a pot of tomato soup that had been soaking in water over himself. He fell to the floor, pot, spoons and lid clattering down after him and making such a racket that everyone in the next room stopped eating, searching for the source of the noise.

Steve quickly debated his options; he could get up and face the stares of everyone in the room, including his acquaintance who loved to pop out of thin air, Tony Stark; or he could cower under the table, hidden by the giant pot and getting steadily soaked with soapy soup water. This was not what he’d expected when he signed up to work at the soup kitchen this weekend.

Option two didn’t sound too bad, and Steve had almost resigned himself to his wet and dripping future, when Tony Stark popped up, once again, seemingly out of nowhere.

“You’re like a bad smell,” Steve muttered, pulling himself up with Tony’s kindly offered hand. Tony looked insulted.

“Something about glass houses and rocks?” he said, gesturing vaguely towards Steve. Steve took a look down at himself, and he had to agree. He was soaked in water, and his white shirt was stained several shades of dirty brown. The smell of the unwashed pots finally hit him, and he knew he probably smelled the exact same way, a mix of day-old soap, burnt tomato sauce and dishwater.

“Fair enough.” He stood up straight and tried to look dignified, which wasn’t easy considering he could feel the water dripping down his back. “Can I help you with anything, Mr. Stark?”

“I should really be asking you that,” Tony smirked. He eyed Steve up and down and Steve suddenly felt self-conscious. Why, why did Tony Stark always manage to find him in the most unflattering positions? “Can I offer you a change of clothes, uh, Steve?”

“It’s a little weird that you know my name when we haven’t really met before.”

“If you had a Facebook account, I could find your favourite flavour of ice cream and your mom’s maiden name in less than two minutes, so me knowing your first name is nothing,” said Tony, offering Steve his hand. Steve’s instinct was to decline, but he really couldn’t spend another minute in his soaked clothes, and he couldn’t even imagine taking the subway home in this condition, so he trailed silently after Tony.

“And you’ve made it easier by just happening to show up everywhere I am,” continued Tony, chattering gaily as he led Tony into the fanciest car Steve had ever seen, apparently with no regard for how the fancy leather would be ruined by Steve’s clothing. “After the third time, when we bumped into you helping out at the Salvation Army downtown, I had to stop my security team from investigating you as a stalker.”

“You were stalking me, more like,” said Steve, as soon as he could get a word in edgewise. “Everywhere I am, you turn up like a bad penny.”

“First a bad smell and then a bad penny,” mused Tony. “You’re either very British or very in the I-Hate-Tony-Stark camp.”

“I could be both,” Steve retorted. “My ma was Irish.”

“You know what,” said Tony, “That makes a lot of sense.”

Before Steve could puzzle out what Tony meant, they had pulled up into Stark Tower. Tony led a still-dripping and now very confused Steve into an elevator that went up several floors, and they stepped out into the biggest, fanciest room Steve had ever seen.

“When you offered me a change of clothes,” he said slowly, “I thought you just meant you’d lend me a t-shirt. Why am I in the penthouse of Stark Tower?!”

Tony just laughed. “You amuse me, Steve Rogers.” He led Steve through a door into a bedroom that was about the size of Steve’s entire apartment building, and gestured to the bathroom. “Feel free to take a shower or a bath or anything you’d like; I’ll leave some clothes out here for you for when you’re done.” He blew an exaggerated kiss in Steve’s direction and left, shutting the door behind him.

Steve’s instinct was, once again, to say ‘no, thank you’ and walk away; he’d never felt comfortable accepting favours from his friends, let alone a snarky rich guy who he barely knew. But his head overruled him and half an hour later, he was clean and fresh, having had the best shower he could remember having, and dressed in the most comfortable clothes he’d ever worn. They looked exactly like any generic t-shirt and jeans did, but judging by their fit and the soft fabric, they were probably several times more expensive than anything he owned.

Tony Stark was lying on the couch when Steve stepped outside the room, fiddling with his phone and yelling instructions into thin air. Amazingly, the thin air replied.

“That’s JARVIS,” said Tony, laughing out loud at the terrified look on Steve’s face. “He’s my personal artificial intelligence assistant.”

“Hello, JARVIS,” said Steve, for lack of anything else to say, and he jumped once again as the wall as greeted him back.

“Built him myself,” said Tony proudly, “He’s the real genius behind Iron Man — although in a way, I’m the real genius because I built JARVIS.” He paused, and Steve tried to rearrange his features to look less shell-shocked. “Do you prefer tea or coffee?”

“What?”

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those heathens who don’t drink coffee. You can’t be, seeing as you seem to spend every weekend doing some good deed or the other.”

“I can’t — I have to go home,” Steve stuttered. “Thank you for everything, for the clothes and bringing me here — I’m very sorry, and I’ll send them back as soon as I can.”

“Keep ‘em,” said Tony airily, “I have millions. And if you need to get home, I’d be happy to take you; but if you feel like you need to leave because you’re intruding on my hospitality—” he suddenly sounded a lot more serious “—please don’t. I’d like to learn more about the Captain Awesome the kids wouldn’t stop talking about.”

And looking into Tony’s shining brown eyes, Steve knew he couldn’t say no.

Several hours later, both Steve and Tony were sprawled on Tony’s impossibly soft couch, a half-eaten pizza between them, laughing hysterically at Steve’s story of his first kiss.

“You chickened out?”

“Yeah,” Steve giggled, “Natasha spent ten whole minutes waiting for me to work up the courage to kiss her, and when I didn’t, she yelled at me to grow a pair.”

“As she should have.”

“I ran home crying and told Bucky all about it. I was crying so hard, I’ll never have my first kiss, Buck, what if no one ever wants to kiss me, and Bucky finally kissed me himself just to shut me up.”

“And did it work?”

“Yes, but only because I was too shocked to cry anymore.”

Tony was doubled over laughing at this point, and Steve was sure he could hear faint snickers from the ceiling as well. “Please tell me you were like, five or six when this happened.”

“This was the week before we graduated high school.”

Eventually their laughter subsided into a comfortable silence, the kind that you could only have with people you knew well, whose company you enjoyed enough to not have to fill it with speech. Reaching over to grab another slice of pizza, Steve glanced once more at Tony, who was still emitting odd giggles. It was weird; twelve hours ago, he had barely known this man, had only known him as a rich guy who liked throwing his money around and saved the world in his giant robot suit. But now, it felt like Steve had known him for years. It wasn’t something he was used to feeling except with Bucky or Natasha.

“Do you have any plans for the weekend?” asked Tony, pulling himself together. “Besides trying to volunteer at every charity in New York, of course.”

“I was going to the hospital tomorrow; I haven’t seen the kids in a while.” He paused, wondering if his next question was appropriate. “Maria Stark Hospital… that’s your mother, right?”

“Yup,” said Tony, “She and dad died in a car crash when I was 19.” Steve knew this, of course, but it was still shocking to hear Tony say it.

“I’m so sorry, Tony.”

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago, and I’m sure my mother would love to know she had a hospital named after her. She loved kids too. I’ve made sure to donate to them yearly, just for her sake, y’know? If she’s watching me from Heaven or whatever, she’d be very mad if I didn’t donate to a place named after her.”

“It’s still nice of you to give your money away like that.”

“Not really. It’s such a small fraction of my money, it doesn’t even compare to what you do.” Tony looked Steve straight in the eye and Steve, inexplicably, felt himself blush. “There’s the question I’ve been meaning to ask all evening, Mr. Rogers. Why is it that you spend your weekends trying to keep every sick kid and hungry mom in New York happy?”

“I don’t really know,” said Steve slowly. “I just… I feel like I need to give back to the community, ya know? I can’t do much, but I see how happy the kids are when I play with them, and how much it helps the shelters when I pick up some of their work, so… I don’t know. I just do it.”

Tony just kept staring at him, almost in awe, and Steve started to feel a bit uncomfortable. “It’s not a big deal, Tony, and I don’t even do that much. I’m sure they appreciate your donations a lot more.”

“Anyone can give money, Rogers. Nobody goes out of their way to help like you do.”

“I don’t know, Tony, I just do.” Steve felt himself blush even harder. “I… I get it from my ma, I guess. She was always out helping with some charity event or other, and I was raised to believe that you should do everything in your power to help where you can. My dad was the same way; it was the Irish Catholic community coming out in them“

“I feel like I would have loved your parents,” said Tony quietly. “My mother was lovely, but we never had much of a relationship — and my father, well, you can see he doesn’t have any hospitals named after him.”

His tone almost made Steve’s heart break bit. “They were the best parents anyone could ask for,” he said, putting an arm around Tony’s shoulder. “Dad died when I was ten — heart attack — and ma died of cancer when I was twenty. It’s why I spend so much time in the hospital, I guess; I like knowing I can help people going through what ma did feel even a little happier.”

“You do, Steve, and you do it really well. I’ve only visited the hospital once, but the kids would not stop talking about you. Do you know how much of a good person you have to be to get teenagers to like you?”

Steve smiled. “You’ve met Peter, huh?”

Tony nodded. “He’s the most brilliant kid of his age I’ve ever met; he understood the suit like nobody else does. If he wasn’t still recovering from cancer, I would have hired him to come work for SI on the spot.”

“That would have made his day,” Steve said, grinning. “He idolizes you; he’s practically in love.”

“If anything, he idolizes you. I asked him offhand what your name was, and he spent ten minutes telling me everything about you.”

“He told me he thought you were ‘kinda hot’,” laughed Steve, knowing Peter would kill him if he could hear him right now. “I bet I didn’t get a compliment that good.”

“I’m only ‘kinda’ hot?” pouted Tony, “That’s great for my self-confidence.”

“If it makes you feel any better, he said I was ‘okay-looking’.”

Tony grinned, “That does make me feel better, thanks. Who knew a 16-year-old’s opinion on my looks could be so important?” He paused. “But he’s wrong about you being okay-looking.”

“Is there a level worse than ‘okay’?” Steve joked, but Tony simply turned his piercing brown eyes onto Steve again.

“I think, and I might be wrong about this, but I’m never wrong, that you, Steve Rogers, are very attractive.”

Steve felt his entire body pause. “I’m.. I’m sorry, what?”

“You’re much more than ‘okay-looking’,” said Tony simply. “And I’m not just saying that because you look like a Greek god, because you do. You're incredibly gorgeous, but it's your heart, your kindness, that really shines. You're always looking out for others, and that's the most attractive thing about you, by far.”

Steve's jaw dropped a little, a surprised laugh escaping his lips. "Wow, Tony, that's… unexpected. Thanks, I appreciate that." A grin spread across Tony's face, a hint of shyness peeking through

"No problem," he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. The air between them crackled with a new energy, both unsure of what this newfound revelation meant. Steve was trying desperately to look anywhere but Tony’s eyes, which meant he had plenty of time to notice exactly how toned the man’s legs were, even in thin sweatpants; how he smelled like a combination of wood and honeysuckle; how soft and inviting his lips were. He took a deep breath.

“Do you… I mean would… would you like to come to the hospital with me tomorrow?” he blurted out, and immediately cringed at himself.

“Interesting first date choice,” smiled Tony, and cut Steve off as he tried to explain himself. “But yes, I’d love to. I’m sure Iron Man has many responsibilities he needs to attend to, but they can wait.”

“Are you sure?” asked Steve nervously. Idiot, idiot, idiot. Why couldn’t he just have suggested coffee or a movie, like a regular person? Tony smiled and reached over to grab his hand, and Steve suddenly stopped thinking altogether.

And when they walked into the Maria Stark Children’s Hospital’s oncology room the next day, hand in hand, nobody cheered louder than Peter.