"Hey, Stark, when did—" Downey tried to pester him, but Tony just pushed him away by the face.
"It's after 3pm, man-child, I don't know you, you do not exist."
"Tony." Steve shot him a look one part exasperated, three parts fond.
"Would you like to stay and talk to him, or would you maybe, um." Tony shot Steve a very meaningful look and a very suggestive smirk. "Like to go home?"
"Um." Steve smiled back. "Home."
Epilogue
It was the stupidest thing that broke his cover.
They hadn't planned on revealing Steve's identity. Tony had gotten flak for kissing Cap during the invasion and "getting together" with Steve only a few days later, but they figured it would die down. Steve even went on camera at one point to clarify that he had not been kept in the dark and knew full well what he was getting into, thank you very much, but it was one of Steve's students, Scarlet, who actually put the matter to rest.
"They're saying your teacher is Mr. Stark's second choice because he can't have Captain America. What are your thoughts on this?"
"Uh, that it's stupid?" She had answered the intrusive reporter as if it were obvious. "Seriously, watch the way they look at each other for like, five seconds. If anything, I feel bad for Captain America. He never stood a chance. To Prof Stark, not even Captain America compares to Mr. Robinson."
The reporters stopped trying to play Captain America up as some kind of problem in their relationship after that, and life fell into a familiar, if hectic, pattern. They spent their days teaching classes and their afternoons at StarkTower, Tony in meetings or working in his office, Steve organizing and assisting with construction. They often didn't make it home until late and had to get up early the next morning, but they did have their shared classes and other assorted free moments throughout the day, and though they were incredibly busy and often exhausted, they were happy.
By the end of the school year, StarkIndustries was finally becoming stable again, and all the Avengers but Thor, who was still in Asgard, had moved into the top floors of StarkTower. Tony—more accurately, his lawyers—had drawn up a contract, and gone through the back and forth required until they'd come to agreement on the status of the Avengers.
As a team, they were not owned by SHIELD. They were an independent initiative, based in StarkTower—or, as they'd taken to calling the top floors, Avengers Tower—that worked with but did not report to SHIELD. Clint and Natasha did remain officially employed by SHIELD on an indefinite basis, and Tony owed them three years of work, consulting or hero-wise as needed, but Steve, Bruce and Thor had no official obligations.
They all knew they'd still be answering to Nick Fury, but it was nice to know they weren't legally bound.
Graduation day, considering the staff had two undercover superspies, one undercover superhero, and one celebrity, went about as well as could be expected; which is to say, not well.
Problem number one was normal, at least. The kids were rowdy and anxious, too excited about graduating to sit still. It took the staff almost four hours just to get the kids through rehearsal, by which time Steve counted Tony's 'I will suit up and repulsor your ass if you don't stop fucking around' threats to be somewhere in the twenties. Clint threatened to off himself twice as many times, but Steve decided that was Natasha's problem.
They had a short break between the final rehearsal and the actual event, during which Steve and Tony both agreed to turn their phones off for once while they went out for lunch downtown. It was the first free, calm hour they'd had in months, and it was exactly what they needed. They ate at a little diner Steve liked, and he told Tony about how he used to come by to draw StarkTower, back when he'd first woken up. The first time he'd ever seen Iron Man had been at that diner, when Tony had looped under a nearby archway, shooting past him and off into the sky like a brilliant, beautiful comet.
Steve admitted he'd been more than mildly fascinated with sketching the suit ever since, and had been incredibly disappointed when SHIELD said he was supposed to be arresting Iron Man instead of working with him. He'd seen the suit up close and personal now, particularly when he'd helped Tony move all his workshop gear from his "Iron Lair" to the Tower, but his amazement with it hadn't diminished.
"Good." Tony smirked a bit, picking at Steve's fries. "Wouldn't want you getting bored with me too soon."
"Boredom and you don't even belong in the same sentence." Steve smacked his hand away. "Stop it, you have your own."
"But stolen fries taste so much better."
"If you eat all my fries, I'm paying."
"Steve—" Tony, predictably, was aghast by this.
He took personal offense whenever Steve paid for anything, citing 'But I'm rich, Steve' as a reason. He tended to ignore the fact that Steve, thanks to seventy years of backpay, also more than qualified as rich. Steve had never been one to accept charity, but considering they both had plenty to go around, he found it didn't really matter to him who paid. He did get a kick out of using it to tease Tony though.
"Eat my fries, and I'll pay for them." Steve just waved a fry at Tony threateningly. "Don't test me, Tony."
Tony watched him warily a moment, debating his choices. Then, quick as a flash, he snapped the fry right out of Steve's hand with his teeth. Steve flicked him on the nose.
"Abuse!" Tony yelped, wrinkling his nose as adorably as Steve had expected.
"Theft." Steve shrugged, but a smile tugged on his lips as he waved down the waitress. "Check please."
"I hate you."
"You love me."
"I suppose." Tony reached across the table, swiping Steve's entire basket. "Even if you're a terrible sharer."
"My metabolism is five times yours, Tony." Steve rolled his eyes, snatching the basket back, though not before letting Tony grab a handful.
"Don't I know it." Tony snorted. "I don't think I've ever had to keep this much food in the house in my life."
"To be fair, I'm not the only one with a big appetite."
"Where does Bruce even put all that—"
"You're Iron Man, aren't you?" They were eating outside, and one of the other waitresses burst out of the diner to gesture at them. "You should come see this."
Tony and Steve exchanged a glance and a sigh. Well, there went lunch.
The TVs inside were lit up with news banners declaring an attack on Midtown High, and that was all either of them needed to see. They raced out into the parking lot, exchanging items and talking over each other.
"Do you have—"
"I have the suit, it's in the—"
"Trunk, right, mine is too, do you have—"
"The keys, here, what about—"
"I'll come back for the tab later, just go, I'll—"
"Meet me there, yeah, see you—"
Tony pressed a quick kiss to his lips, then opened the trunk and pulled out the suitcase suit, yanking it open and suiting up. He took off into the sky, and Steve was quick to follow in the car. Traffic just got worse the closer he got the school, so eventually he gave up, parked the car, changed in the backseat—making out there earlier turned out to be good practice for having to fumble his way into a patriotic jumpsuit now—and sprinted the rest of the way.
Doctor Doom.
"What part of my territory," Tony grunted, blasting Doctor Doom square in the chest, "Did you not understand the first time?"
"Ah, but you switched sides!" Doctor Doom just rose back up, sending another twenty doombots Tony's way. "Your claim is invalid now!"
The two continued bickering while Steve quickly analyzed the scene. Natasha and Clint must've snuck off to change at some point, since they were now in costume and helping protect a group of early-arriving students and staff from the doombots. Steve jumped into the fray, deciding he'd be best off helping Tony take out the problem at its source. He let his shield fly, and the fight was on.
It didn't take very long, all things considered, and ended rather abruptly when SHIELD arrived and dropped Bruce out of a helicopter.
