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“Wake up!!!” a small excited voice shouted into his ears. Tony groaned loudly, shoving his head in the pillow.
The hellish situation he found himself in today (being awoken at 8 in the morning by the lovely voice of little children) was all Clint’s fault, Tony would whine to anyone who’d listen.
They had been fighting a magician or other in Central Park, when the archer had stroke the bad guy of the week with one of his newest flanged ‘dazing arrows’. They were highly experimental at that point, and the end result had been a very confused magical practitioner that instead of trying to kill them, just send a wave of magic in their general direction which ended up, well, de-aging everybody.
Thankfully, it had been proportional to their actual age and how close they had been to the source of the spell, so Clint and Natasha who were just by him ended up looking like 5 years old, and Steve turned 16 (Tony was still mega curious to figure out whether the spell counted his actual age or the age he had been frozen with) and Bruce and Tony himself were suddenly in their mid thirties.
“Tony,” Clint’s high pitched voice whined, “Steve said we could only eat chocolate chip pancakes when you were up, pleaase wake up!” And there, that right there was the reason this whole experience became even more of a nightmare.
If Steve had been a little shit at 26, nothing in the world could have prepared Tony for the sheer evilness of sixteen year old Captain America. The man, more of a boy really, had been an outright menace to Tony from the moment they reached Avengers Tower after their mandatory exams from SHIELD.
Steve had been very useful in taking care of the younger children. Neither Tony or Bruce were particularly patient or good with children beyond the small interactions they had with them asking for autographs or pictures, or their usual visits to children hospitals. In the end, they knew how to put up a show when needed, but for the day to day life thing? Yeah, not their strongest suit.
So, yeah, the memory confused teenager who once used to babysit neighbor children was the best one to deal with their five years old teammates. In return, he would shamelessly use the children to make Tony’s life harder than it should be.
Tiredly, Tony raised his head from the pillow only to be faced with a small face that looked like he was about to cry.
“Hey Clint, where is Natasha?” he croaked out hoping it would be enough for the kid to accept he was up.
“She is getting Brucie! Toony please ged’up I wanna pancakes”
“Sure shortstack, I’m getting up,” he said as he rolled to the other side and closed his eyes. Of course, than the brat started that low whine he was getting way too used to that usually preceded the fakest cry ever uttered by a child.
“Fine! FIne, I’m up ok, here I am standing up,” he said throwing his body out of the bed violently, feet stomping the floor as he got up to go to the bathroom.
“Go on ahead, Clint, tell Steve I’ll be by in a couple of minutes, ok?” he entered the bathroom relieved as he saw the tiny archer run in direction to the kitchen. Good, he would be Steve’s problem now.
Shield medical had told them the spell should take a couple days to fade, but then everything would turn back to normal. They were already on the fourth day, however, and there was no sign of this thing going away so Tony was despairing a bit.
Doctor Strange was in another dimension or some similar bullshit, and that apparently took preference instead of helping Earth's mightest with their wittle problem, and Thor, the only Avenger who might have been able to help had self-exiled himself to Asgard and lord knows when he would return. So, shield medical words it is.
Playing the waiting game was no good for anybody's nerves, and apart from little Clint and tiny Natasha who were mercifully oblivious to all in their carefree existence, the rest of the Avengers felt like they were going to explode.
Some, literally.
It had been a mix of joy and sorrow to find out that de-aged Bruce was not, in fact, the Hulk yet. Happy for obvious reasons, but sorrowful because it wouldn’t last. And Tony was just a tiny bit worried of being literally the only Avenger on call.
If push came to shove, he knew he could count on Sam Wilson, the Falcon, to swoop him and help him out, and Steve was still pretty much in top form, but no one knew exactly how they felt letting the confused 16 year old fight aliens.
Because Steve was indeed, apart from being a little shit, very confused. His memories were all mixed up - sometimes he acted like he was a teen in the 30’s, sometimes he acted like his usual soldier out of time, but unfailingly he always expressed confusion about stuff.
Nat and Clint seemed to still retain all of their memories, but somehow they just didn’t matter. Or maybe they didn’t count as memories exactly, because although they recognized the team and SHIELd, they acted exactly like any five year old would, with just a little more threats of violence, perhaps. And of course, they refused to be left with anyone who was not on the team, maybe because of their gigantic well earned trust issues, maybe because they enjoyed making Tony suffer. Who knew?
Bruce and Tony had retained everything, apart apparently for the radiation infusion and the chest scarring. Hadn’t that been a nice surprise?
Another little surprise had happened in the middle of the night of their fifth day as younglings.
“Wake up,” whispered a grave, deep baritone right to his ear. Before he could scream, and yes ok, he was just about to scream shrilly like a little kid, a strong metallic hand covered his mouth firmly, just enough for him to not be able to move it, not enough to hurt.
Right in front of his eyes was the Winter Soldier.
The feared soviet assassin looked like a mess - perfectly for a man who had been on the run for the last couple of months. His hair was long and messy, half of it tied up on a knot, half falling in front of his eyes like a misshapen fringe. His beard was patchy and scarce but present just enough to make him look like a hobo - and didn’t that say something about Tony that instead of being worried about his safety in front of a unreliable brainwashed had been assassin, he was picking on his outfit?
“Pay very close attention to what I’m saying and answer truthfully. You scream I’ll knock you out before I leave, ok?” he grunted, staring at Tony’s eyes with icy blue ones that showed no emotion. For some reason Tony wasn’t feeling really threatened. Must have been because of the Captain America hoodie Bucky was wearing, and just for that reason he felt completely vindicated in ordering that line of Avengers merch.
Now that he was a bit more aware, he became very concerned about why JARVIS wasn’t intervening. Now that was something he would have to deal with as soon as possible.
“Why is Steve sixteen?” he said, something akin to disbelief seeping into his voice.
“Magic,” Tony croaked out as soon as Bucky had lowered his hand.
The soldier looked angry for a second, but soon masked it and acceded.
“Is the serum still working?”
“Yeah,” and at that visible relief flooded Bucky’s face. He sighed deeply and got up.
“Take care of him,” he ordered, and in the blink of an eye he was gone.
“Did he just jump out of a window?” Tony whispered to the dark room.
“It looked like it, sir,” JARVIS said from above.
“Jay, my man, where have you been?” Tony said, a weight liftin of his shoulders as he read JARVIS’ dulcet tones.
“It seems the good Soldier has a sort of tech damping device at his disposition. I was unable to communicate because the speakers were not working.”
“Now that’s an amazing piece of tech and I want one. Make a note to remind me of it in the workshop later, JARVIS. And call Sam Wilson, will you?”
“Very well, sir”
The phone rang only a couple times before a very grumpy bird man picked it up,
“Stark, fuck’s sake it’s three a.m.,” Sam groaned in lieu of hello.
“Hey bird man, good morning to you too -”
“Three a.m. Stark,”
“I was also just rudely waken up by a friend of yours and decided I needed to share the wonderful experience!”
“Look, I don’t wanna know what kinda freaky shit you and Steve get up too in the middle of the night -”
“Sam, I am shocked, you think I would do anything with a teenager? Shocked and astounded!”
“Oh yeah, that a thing that happened. It’s the middle of the fucking night Stark, what do you want?” he whined, frustration dripping from his voice - which was usual to people who spend too much time in Tony’s presence.
“Your boy Bucky just decided to drop by. He looks like shit, by the way,” Tony took gigantic pleasure in breaking this news to Sam.
“What?” he asked, suddenly fully awake. “Is he still there? Are you ok?”
“Wow, priorities are clear. No, he jumped out of the window after asking me a couple questions. He wanted to know what happened with our boy Steve and whether the serum still worked.”
“Makes sense. Everytime he showed up for the couple past months was to make sure Steve was safe, and it’s good to know his memories are coming back enough for him to remember Steve at that age,” he said calmly. With the news being quite less dangerous than expected, Sam was sounding more and more sleepy and even a yawn was allowed to escape.
“He almost died at 16, didn’t he?”
“Man, I think he almost died at every age. Can I go back to sleep now?”
“Aren’t you at least a bit worried that Bucky managed to invade the Tower undetected?”
“Not really. If he can do that and has not killed any of you I think we’re good, and also we probably should give him some space - he sounds like he is ok, but don’t wanna be found.”
“You’re calling off the search? That’s a relief, I could really use you on the tower - we’re down to one Avenger and I’d love to make it at least two,” Tony sighed as one of the many weights he felt, lifted from his shoulders.
“You know what? Sure. When Steve is back we can talk proper long term plans, but for right now you better prepare my suite and my suit, ok? Ok, good night.”
Tony didn’t even have time to answer before the call disconnected. Ok, so now what?
“Hey Steve,” Tony greeted him as he entered the kitchen wearing the Hulk pajamas. It was never Iron Man merch with anyone, was it?
The other man only grunted in response before loudly letting his head fall on the table and leaving it there. Well, somebody else looked lke they had a crappy night.
“I made omelettes, want some?” the engineer asked, already plating two of them and setting a bit apart in the kid plates (iron man kid plates because he was ending the cycle of bullying) he got for their younger teammates.
“Are they edible?” grunted the super soldier, without even raising his head to look.
“I’m terribly wounded, what is this, bully Tony day? I thought you all loved me, but no…” he complained, already shoving Steve’s head from the table and putting a plate in front of him.
The bastard just laughed at him before digging in the food.
Toy would be the first to admit they were not exactly omelettes, they were more like scrambled eggs, a bit on the runny side, with bits of tomatoes and spinach throw in. But it was pretty much the only thing he could cook so Steve better be grateful.
“Thanks for the food, Tony,” oh, look the brat had manners, “it’s pretty good,” he said sounding baffled.
“Are you implying you think I can’t cook?”
“No, I - I’m sorry Tony, I don’t remember ever eating grub this good,” he clarified.
“Oh,” Tony deflated. It was one more reminder of the fact the Steve who was sitting in front of him was not, in fact, his Steve. He would of course turn back to normal soon, and was not like his Steve had been replaced or anything, he was still there but, it hurt? He missed the man who slowly but surely became one of his best friends, and recklessly proclaimed his sexuality for all to hear mid-battle when Tony made a few comments too many on modern day habits. And then - then when they got back to the tower had chewed him out before kissing him deeply and asking if Tony would be his fella.
He missed him a lot now, even if his teenage counterpart was all kinds of a riot.
“Where are the tots?” he asked, changing subjects.
“Asleep. Clint had a nightmare and ended up crying out, which woke Nat, which of course meant they both crashed into my room. We played some games for a while, before they got back to sleep, so I guess they are pretty tired now.”
“That’s a first, they are both up so early, usually. It’s, like, the total opposite of their adult counterparts. What about you, pretty boy, why you not sleeping too?”
“First, you do realize I don’t need a lot of sleep right? Super soldier serum and all. And second, aw, you think I’m pretty?” he smirked.
“Shut up, and eat your food”
“Alright, father, ” Tony choked on his coffee at this response. God, that was getting a bit awkward.
Even worse?
“I have a craving for fondue all of a sudden,” Steve said, looking directly into his eyes. After a beat, though, he shook his head in confusion, “is that… is that an actual food?” he asked, bewildered.
And so, excruciatingly so, time passed. It was almost a week since the spell had first hit and it had no sign of abating at all. Tony and Sam had to fight a mad scientist and their robots by themselves, while Bruce had to keep a Cap who just wanted to fight under control, no matter the fact his suit was actually too big for him right now.
They ended up the victors, of course, because they are awesome, but also pretty banged up and for once, Tony just wanted to stay in bed and let his body rest because he ached everywhere. Everywhere.
So, of course, this is the exact moment Steve decides to barge in. Why, oh dear mechanical overlord that one day will lay waste on the world, why hadn’t he locked the door?
“Tony, are you up?” the teen whispered, as if he had not just been louder than the groomsman and the waitress as he chimed in.
Tony merely groaned in response.
“Tony, I need to know,” he said urgently. Sighing and giving up on his rest, Tony sat up on bed.
“Yes, Steve?” he asked, for once feeling every single one of his forty-seven years of age.
“Are we dating?” oops. Tony had been wondering when he would figure that tidbit out, and although he missed his boyfriend dreadfully, he wasn’t really hoping teenager Steve found that out.
“Yeah,” he confessed. No sense in lying to him about it now.
“Oh dear God, yes!” the teen exclaimed and jumped into bed to kiss him.
At first, Tony had been shocked as all that body mass flung unto him, lips connecting in a messy, yet enthusiastic kiss. After a beat, however, Tony regained his senses and pushed away.
“Steve, honey, although I appreciate your enthusiasm, you’re sixteen,” he explained, while trying to keep Steve at arms length.
“Yeah, so?” the teen asked, bewildered. His blue eyes looked huge, staring at Tony, showing so much care and affection he felt his heart fill up, and for a second wavered on his decision. But he remained strong.
“What that means, my dear hormonal ball of horniness, is that I am not messing around with a teenager. I feel like I’m robbing the cradle already as it is,” he pointed out.
“But I’m not sixteen, Tony, I’m twenty-six,” the teen objected.
“Right now you’re sixteen, though, and your memories are a mess. I’m not taking advantage of you, okay, and when you’re back to your usual self you’ll thank me for it.”
“Or not,” he said amusedly
“Or not,” he agreed, “but I’d rather you not thank me, than for you to be upset with me, so I’ll take my chances.”
“Well, can we at least hold hands and stuff?” Steve countered, “and if people ask me, can I say I have a boyfriend?” he asked expectantly. How could Tony say no to that?
“I mean, sure, but we’re not really out to everybody yet?” Tony said, faltering a bit on the last part, “so be careful with that, and who’s even asking if you’re single? You haven’t been out of the tower much.”
“Why are we not out!?” he asked, highly offended, “is older me ashamed, or something? Because if so, I don’t wanna grow up!” he proclaimed, all self-righteousness. Which, to be fair, was pretty usual for Steve.
“No, no, no!” he corrected, “you’re completely okay with it. But we have public personas, honey, and we’re not ready to mingle public and private.”
“Oh,” he said, deflating.
“Don’t worry, kid, we’re good,” Tony said in amusement. Steve might be an actual teenager right now, but some things would never change.
“Don't… Don’t call me kid?” he snorted, “that’s kinda creepy.”
“True,” he conceded, reaching for Steve’s hand and holding it, “it took you a while to figure it out, uh? Are your memories coming back?” Tony asked, hoping that meant the spell was finally fading.
“I guess? There was a lot of stuff to sort out - apparently a fella having a fella in the 40s was not as well looked upon as today.”
“You could say that,” he agreed.
“So it took me a while to go through everything and connect the dots. There was a side of me fighting against the affection, but thankfully love won,” he gave Tony his brightest smile, making the older man thrown an arm over his shoulders and squeeze.
“But I think the spells is fading, too,” Steve continued, a note of relief in his voice, “I mean, I hope. I feel like I’m slowly waking up,” he confessed.
Tony kissed his forehead. The boy was just too cute to handle and by god did he miss him.
“I’m glad to hear it.”
At that Steve snorted, hiding his face in Tony’s neck.
“I bet you are, old mad,” he provoked, “there is only so many years left for you at your peak, right?”
“Brat,” Tony said affectionately, kissing his forehead again.
“Hm, Peter said I could go hangout with him in school, if I wanted,” Steve confided moving away from Tony, “and I think I’m gonna do that today - otherwise I might end up jumping you,” he confided, a small smile on his face. When Tony looked him in the eye, he blushed and lowered his face and it was really cute, but the poor boy was probably all sorts of uncomfortable by now. Tony had only being wearing his boxers, after all, and he could well remember how messy hormones were at that age.
“I can’t wait for you to go back at the very old age of ninety, so I can tease you about your hormonal horniness,” he said good-naturedly, letting Steve get up, and covering himself with a blan ket.
“Just you wait, grandpa, I have a feeling this nonagenarian just might keep you in bed for a couple days when he is back,” the boy proclaimed, blush deepening.
“Staying in bed? For real? Can’t wait,” and Steve kissed his cheek before hurriedly leaving the room.
THE END