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"If you're sure, then come this way," the guard says curtly, gesturing to a metal detector portico.
"I'm sure," Steve says. The voice comes out changed through the modulator. Steve will need to thank Scott again – he worked quickly to build it.
"No belt, change, anything?" The guard raises his hand for Steve to stop as he reaches a white line on the floor, and then gives him the signal to step through.
"No." As Steve hoped, the machine stays silent as he goes through and the guard nods.
"Okay, good," he says. "Have a good evening. Cool costume!"
"Thank you!" Steve says. "Good evening yourself!"
And just like that, Steve is let into the hotel, free to join an exclusive high-end Halloween party. To be completely honest, he wants to scream at the lax security. This is irresponsible and if he had any say, he'd dress down the firm in charge. It's not his place, though, especially since said lax security just allowed him in without being detected. It's not because Steve doesn't have metal on his person that he's not armed, for god’s sake. Well, he truly isn't armed, but he could have been, for sure. A costumed Halloween party makes it hard for the guards to identify possible threats through the variety of make up, masks and whatnot, but security could have at least taken pictures of every guest in case of emergency. Also, the guards could have asked Steve to take off his helmet, too, while he's criticizing.
His false invite in one hand, and counterfeit identification papers in the other, Steve moves with the line of other guests towards the ballroom where the party is held. He's surrounded by the traditional monsters, hot nurses, witches, historical figures and other classics, some in very elaborate costumes. Steve gets several compliments on his own getup, and since he worked on it for hours it's more than welcome. Once at the second line of – astoundingly sloppy – security, it takes a couple minutes and they are all vetted to go in, with the other rich and famous guests.
The music in the ballroom is loud, and the decorations extensive - the place looks like a dungeon, medieval style. The simulated rock walls are covered with fake spider webs, an army of skeletons is frozen in various poses throughout the room and a thick roll of fake fog rolls on the floor. The fake dungeon loses realism with a dance floor and several bars, but Steve has to give the decorators and the craftsmen involved a nod because it's spectacular.
Steve presses on his wrist to activate his comm unit, but the action is met with a squeal of feedback, making him curse. Okay, so at least that part of security is working, and he figures that only authorized personnel have the means to communicate with each other. That's good, even if it means Steve can't warn his own team that he's in, and that he hasn't been made. It was a risk - Sam argued he should do it since his face was a lot less recognizable - but Steve had refused. It had to be him.
First thing first, he has to find Tony. Steve scans the room rapidly, but the fact that everyone's in costume makes his task a challenge. Not even height is a definitive trait, with the heels he can see on woman and men alike. Resolute, Steve walks the floor, starting by the bars. Of course he tries to keep an eye out for anyone that could be dangerous, too, but he won't be able to focus on that until he's sure that Tony is safe.
There have been two direct attacks on the remaining Avengers in the last week, and it didn't take a genius to figure out exactly whom they were trying to take down first. In the first skirmish, a tourist in the Rockefeller Center had filmed Iron Man plummeting to the ground in Central Park after an EMP blast. Thankfully Tony had managed to get back control of the armor before he touched the ground, but it had been such a close call that Steve had thought he'd be sick just seeing the unsteady footage that had been put on a loop on TV. Then, four days ago in Nowhere Michigan, there had been a fight with a swarm of robots with grappling and magnets, or so Steve had heard. The media hadn’t shown the actual footage, but Steve had seen pictures of the armor after the battle, scratched and dented to the extreme. Tony had been a no-show at the press conference too, which was worrisome.
But what had really put Steve on alert was the very public threat that had been sent to all major news outlet in the morning.
The righteous will fall (10-31-16) written in capitals letters over a design of a cracked Iron Man helmet.
Steve had been tempted to dismiss it as grandstanding, but Scott had looked troubled; the statement was all over the Internet in a very coordinated fashion. It had taken a lot of organization and resources to have that particular message spread this fast and this widely without an easy way to track its origin, Scott had said. Steve felt helpless half a world away, and finally just gathered his team to go and try to help. No one had questioned his decision out loud, but Steve was resolved to cross the ocean back to America to investigate further and protect Tony if needed be.
Interviewed on the threat around noon, after a board meeting, a smiling Tony had shaken his head with a laugh.
"Nah, I'm not worried. And beside, I'm not helpless," he'd said to a journalist with a wink. "If they think I'm going to hide in fear, well they don't know me at all."
"So you'll just go about your day as normal?" the journalist had asked.
"Just like normal, on Halloween," Tony had replied with a grin. "Now excuse me, I need to make sure my costume fits."
It wasn't the outright defiance Tony had shown back with the Mandarin, but it wasn't cautious either. Steve had wanted to hit his head against the plane's wall when he learned that Tony was to attend a costumed party that very night. There might have been colorful curses about how bullheaded and imprudent Tony was, too. After all, Tony’s public outing gave the potential terrorists a predictable venue to try something.
Now in a costume of his own, Steve needs to find Tony and stand guard to prevent an attempt on his life. Each minute Steve doesn't find him makes his blood pump faster, his hands clammier.
Embarrassingly enough, it's Tony who finds him. Steve is at the edge of the dance floor, trying to crane his neck to see if he can spot him there when there's a very familiar laugh by his side.
"Oh wow, this is fantastic!" Tony says and Steve whips his head around, and then blinks. He's glad that his face is well hidden right now because he must look stupid with surprise. He was not ready to see Tony in a Captain America costume, cowl included (no shield, though. Somehow, it's easier to take). Maybe that's why Steve didn't spot him while he searched, earlier. With the way he left Tony in Siberia, why would he want to dress as Captain America at all?
"Really, I love it," Tony says, even reaching to touch Steve's costume. He has a genuine but disbelieving smile, too, as if he's surprised that someone would want to dress as Iron Man, even if it's in a cardboard armor.
"Thank you," Steve says, confident Scott's voice modulator will hide his identity. It hopefully hides how strangled it comes out, too, Steve is barely able to push the words out through the emotion that has him by the throat. God he's missed Tony, and thanks heaven he's all right. "I'm thrilled you like it."
"Aww, a synthesized voice too, so cool!" Tony says, swaying a bit. He's well on his way to drunk, Steve realizes.
It makes anger spike because why would Tony do that, when he knows that a threat looms over his head?
"You know," Tony continues as he takes a step closer and speaks with a low voice, as if in confidence. "This costume is probably not the best idea today. They might take you for me."
"I doubt it," Steve says. "Considering it's cardboard and not titanium-alloy."
Tony laughs. "Of course, of course. Having fun yet?"
"I just got here a couple of minutes ago," Steve says. "I heard on TV-"
"Shush!" Tony says, putting a hand on Steve's crude helmet, where there would be a mouth if it was a face. "We don't talk about things that aren't important."
"If someone makes an attempt on your life, it's important."
"Psha," Tony says, pushing away to rock back on his heels. "Nah." He takes a big gulp of his drink. "The world would do just fine without Tony Stark."
He looks perfectly at ease saying such nonsense.
"No," Steve says vehemently. He wants to curl his hands onto fists, but that would destroy the makeshift gauntlets. "That's not true. You're a hero. You’re Iron Man. But you are also Tony Stark, who brings us the future."
"Aww," Tony says, grinning. "I thought the costume was just to look cool because the armor is pretty great, but you're a real fan boy? Sweet."
"Of course." Steve has always been, too. Even if it was grudgingly at first when he was full of misconceptions about Tony's character. He's still a fan now, even when Tony gets under his skin and rubs him the wrong way. "What's with the Captain America costume? I thought you guys were fighting."
Tony sighs and shrugs a shoulder. "I never wanted to fight. Things got bad, but St-" he stumbles on his name, starts again. "The Captain is a good person."
Steve doesn't quite know what to do with that, almost bowled over with a wave of relief. Maybe he didn't burn all of the bridges between them, then.
"I thought you hated him for everything that happened."
"Hate him?" Tony laughs, and then shakes his head with a sad little smile. "I don't. It would be easier if I did, but I don't."
"I'm sorry," Steve says. He wants to say it to Tony, without a mask. He wants to start to mend their friendship, he wants so much more than that too.
"Don't be. It's a tragedy brought about by the fact we're both pigheaded assholes. That and the murderous BFF, but eh."
Yeah, Bucky. Bucky blurred so many lines for him then, from Rumlow's distraction in Lagos to the final battle in Siberia. Tony still considers Bucky murderous, but would he try to kill him again? Steve hopes not, and that the desire to lash out has faded with time.
Steve's been so intent at drinking in the sight of Tony, right there in front of him, that he's forgotten the reason he's back in the United-States and in a costumed party for a minute. But a flash in the corner of his eye –nothing dangerous, just light reflecting on a metal helmet – brings the issue of a potential hit on Tony to the foreground.
"Still. It's a shame the Avengers aren’t together anymore." Steve realizes it's a shitty thing to say when Tony's face falls for a moment before he brings his walls and the PR smile right back up. Shit.
"A shame indeed," Tony mutters, downing the last of his drink. It was pale and golden, on ice. Probably hard alcohol. "I need another drink or ten," he adds, doing an about-face and walking to the nearest bar.
Steve follows and wishes he could bring Tony to a safer location, possibly make him wear his armor and then hide away until the threat is caught or at least gone. The bulk of Steve’s costume is cumbersome as he tries to follow Tony through the dense crowd.
The barmaid grins when she spots Tony, and immediately pours him more of the golden alcohol. Tony knocks it back, neat, and extends the glass again.
"Do you think it's wise to get drunk when someone wants to kill you?"
Tony laughs. "No. But I don't care."
"Do you have your armor here?" Steve asks.
"It's never very far," Tony says with a wink. "What, do you want to see the real deal?"
"I'd like that," Steve says. Anything to get Tony out of this room where an assassin could be hiding.
"Sure, why not," Tony says. He puts his half-full glass down on the bar, and immediately starts weaving thought the guests again.
That's good, that's great in fact. Steve doesn't know how he will manage to keep Tony out of harm's way for the rest of the evening, but hopefully he will think of something. Maybe he can convince Tony to go home, he looks exhausted. They're almost out of the ballroom, fast approaching a door that is marked as leading to an exit when a red dot appears on the back of Tony's head. Steve doesn't even think; he reacts and shoves Tony to the side – flattening him to the wall and uses his own body as a shield - as the shot rings, loud even over the music. Thankfully Steve was fast enough, and the bullet embeds in the wall a foot to his right. Tony curses and pushes him away while the partyers scream and shout.
"Jesus Christ!" Tony brings a hand to his ear, and Steve can hear faint sounds coming from his earpiece. With the Captain America cowl, Steve had no idea he was wearing one. "Yeah, yeah, I'm alright." He turns to Steve, rapidly scanning him, looking worried. "Are you okay?"
"Yes, I'm fine," Steve says, and he's reassured to see that a man has been surrounded on the ballroom's mezzanine from where the shot came. How anyone could even get there in the first place is a travesty.
"Are you sure?" Tony says. "That was pretty close, fuck. You could have been hurt, that was incredibly reckless!"
"I just – I saw the pointer and it was instinct," Steve says.
"Soldier?" Tony asks.
"Yeah," Steve admits.
"Still, I'm sorry. It wasn't supposed to put anyone in danger."
"Anyone but you," Steve realizes. "Were you bait?" It takes everything to keep his voice from climbing and he takes shaky deep breaths. He cannot believe Tony could be this reckless. "You were two seconds away from a bullet to the head!"
"Too close, I agree," Tony says, breathing out and waving away the security that is at last coming over. "Guys? You were only supposed to look incompetent!" he tells a tall guy with black hair wearing a TAC vest and who's jogging over.
"I'm sorry Mister Stark. We have him now," the guard says, stopping in his tracks when Tony raises his hand in a gesture not to come closer.
He's young, and Steve would bet all of the money that has been frozen in his bank account that a general lack of experience is to blame for the bad security coverage on Tony. He should have had a shadow all night, though it contradicts the idea of playing bait.
"Well good. Take him away, then. Go. And please calm those people, this is ridiculous." The guard turns around with his buddies as Tony looks up towards the mezzanine and speaks again. "I'm perfectly fine, I swear! Rhodey. Rhodey, stop it, it worked!" He clamps his mouth shut, looking mulish and sighs. "Fine, fine. Can you yell at me tomorrow? I've got a fucking headache. And it would have just been a little worse if it hit me, okay? You know it's bulletproof."
Improvement to the suit, then, but even if the bullet hadn’t pierced the cowl, Tony would have had a potential fatal concussion from the shock of the bullet alone. And at the very least Rhodes is here. Steve cannot believe the Colonel agreed to such a stupid plan, though. It needs to be said out loud, too.
"If this was a plan, it was a stupid one!"
Tony looks at him and rolls his eyes, lips nonetheless turning up in a smirk. "I see that everyone is a critic today."
"You could have been killed," Steve says, gesturing to the hole on the wall. God.
"And I wasn't, and we caught the shooter. Hopefully he'll lead us to whom he works for, too. There have been too many close calls out there, something needed to be done."
Fuck. It's true, Tony's vulnerable in the field only with Vision and that Spider-Man kid as backup. Rhodes is still out of commission. It kills Steve that he can't be there to help Tony when he needs it.
"I hope you catch them too," Steve says, feeling helpless, once again.
"Thanks for your help, Soldier," Tony says, smiling now. "I'd like to do something for you in return. Do you want me to clear your debts? A car? An all-expenses paid trip? Name it, it's yours."
"No!" Steve says, shaking his head. "No need for that."
"I know there's no need, but I want to," Tony says, pouting. "What's your name?"
Steve can see the manic gleam in Tony's eye. If he was a regular soldier and Tony got hold of his identity, he'd clear his debts and other assorted gifts with or without his accord. But Tony cannot know because Steve is not supposed to be here at all. He has to find a way to get out of this situation with Tony being none the wiser, but it will need some creative thinking.
"You know what? I think I won't tell you," Steve says. "Add a little mystery, make sure Tony Stark thinks of me sometimes."
Tony laughs at that, genuinely amused. "Yeah? Okay, I like it. Do you still want to see the armor?" he asks, gesturing to the door.
Steve agrees, seeing an opportunity to slip out right after. He follows Tony in the corridor that seems to be leading to the hotel's unloading zone. There is a lot of security here, the men looking thankfully more alert than in the ballroom. Steve sees an emergency exit and itches to go before someone starts asking questions. He could be a security threat, too, just biding his time and earning Tony's trust until he has the opportunity to hurt him. But no one asks, and Steve realizes at that point that there's someone who won't be that lax, who always has Tony's back: FRIDAY. There's no doubt in his mind that if he gets in range of the armor's sensors, she'll scan him and determine his identity right through the cardboard armor.
Fuck, that's a problem, and Steve has to get out now. He needs a distraction, something that will surprise Tony completely and provide an opportunity to leave right after. Steve dodged saying his name earlier, played on the mystery of staying anonymous, and that totally worked. Maybe he can push his advantage a little more, and something stupid but maybe just crazy enough to work pops in his head. Steve stops walking, reaches to touch Tony's arm, who then turns to him with furrowed brows.
"What's the matter?" Tony asks.
"I just thought of something I want," Steve says.
For a second he can see disappointment in Tony's eyes; the fun mysterious stranger just proved himself to be like everyone else after all.
"Sure, I told you. Anything you want," he says with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes anymore.
"A kiss," Steve says, and he frankly cannot believe he's doing this. It's a good thing he has the voice modulator because he's pretty sure his voice is strangled. "Just one kiss from the famous Tony Stark, and I'm good to go."
Tony's smile widens, eyes crinkling at the corners and it takes Steve's breath away, how beautiful he is. "Are you serious?"
"Is it a problem?" Steve asks. He knows that Tony is bisexual, it was confirmed in a particularly raunchy game of 'never I ever' years ago, but it's been just a persistent rumor for the public.
"No, it's not, whether you are a man or a very tall woman," Tony says with a wink. "In fact, I like your guts."
"Good," Steve says. There are security agents all around, and Steve doesn't want to risk taking off his costume's helmet where they can see. There's an unused coatroom just to their right that Steve points towards. "You have to keep your eyes closed, though."
"Mystery until the end?" Tony asks. He looks thrilled and Steve has a pang to the chest at how happy a little thing like this makes him. Occasions for fun and levity must be few and far in between these days.
"Yeah. I've got to make this memorable, if only to make a point," Steve says.
"Mission accomplished," Tony says, turning to face him once they are in the coatroom. He's still smiling, all but bouncing on his heels. They are out of view, at least for the moment. Steve should make this quick before Rhodes comes over, as he's bound to do to make sure Tony is fine.
"Close your eyes. No cheating," Steve says.
"I promise. In fact, why don't you use this?" Tony asks, grabbing an abandoned scarf on a hanger and putting it in Steve's hands before closing his eyes.
Steve takes off the cardboard gloves, puts them on a table, and then the helmet. The voice modulator is holding over Steve's mouth with an elastic strap, and he eases it down around his neck. Tony's behaving, eyes still screwed closed and a smirk on his lips, but Steve ties the blindfold securely over his eyes anyway, for more security. He's then left with the fact that he needs to act on his words and kiss Tony, who is waiting for it, completely trusting. What does it say about this man, who has been betrayed countless times, that he'd go along with something like this minutes after an assassination attempt? Well that he's a reckless fool ready for anything for a thrill, for one, but also that he still believes in the basic goodness of people, which is nothing short of extraordinary.
Tony promised not to look, and is blindfolded, but Steve cannot take any chance so the first thing he does is gently put a hand over his covered eyes. With the other he cradles Tony's neck to keep him in place. Steve's heart is racing: he's dreamed of this, kissing Tony. There has been definite attraction between them for years, even though they never acted on it since Tony was with Pepper. Steve had let his eyes linger and his thoughts wander too many times, and now in a cruel twist of fate he's going to kiss Tony under false pretenses, anonymously. It kills him, just a little bit, but he wants it nonetheless.
"Jesus, your hands are huge," Tony says, voice lower than normal. This is getting to him, too, Steve realizes and it's a thrill.
He leans in and totally means to make it a chaste press of lips, done and over. But Tony kisses back and Steve's breath catches. He's taken by a wave of want so strong, he can't resist going for seconds, touching Tony's lips with his tongue who opens right up for him, and even steps closer to plaster them together. Tony has brought his hands up to Steve's head and gently glides the tip of his fingers on his face, his ears, the edge of his jaw. Steve sports a short beard these days, partly to be less recognizable, and he hopes it's enough to throw Tony off.
One of the first things that Steve realizes is that Tony's kisses taste like apple juice. It makes him kiss him harder, deeper. All staged, then, even the drunkenness. The kiss itself is scorching hot, deep and wet and almost everything Steve ever hoped for. He can't help but make it intense, a little desperate, but this might be his only chance at kissing Tony. It's not a kiss between strangers, or at least not like Steve would kiss someone he doesn't know. It's full of want and not just a little regret. Tony's kissing back with gusto, but maybe that’s the way he does everything. Reluctantly Steve breaks the kiss, though he's unable to go very far, breathing hard near Tony's lips.
"That-" Tony swallows. "Whoa. That's one hell of a kiss, Soldier!"
Steve knows he should stay silent. He needs to get away, but he's got Tony's fingers in his hair, his precious head cradled in his hands, and he feels a pang of longing so strong he wishes he could come clean, beg for forgiveness and hope to be able to kiss him again every day for the rest of their lives. He resigns himself to a peck of the cheek instead, and then whispers in Tony's hear very softly.
"Stay safe, Tony."
Tony freezes, stops breathing too, as Steve keeps his hand over his eyes and the blindfold, but puts back the cardboard helmet, foregoing the voice modulator.
"Steve?" Tony asks, partly disbelieving but at least a little bit hopeful. It's physically painful for Steve to let him go and step back.
Tony tries to grab the cardboard armor, but Steve's already out of reach. He shoves his hands into the makeshift gauntlets and sprints out of the coatroom.
"Fuck!" Tony curses. "If that's you, I'm working on getting the charges dropped, okay?" he shouts as Steve's retreating back. "Everyone. Barnes too. Shit! I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry about everything!"
If only he knew how sorry Steve is, too.
But maybe, just maybe, he'll get to say it back, without a mask, very soon.
The End