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***
Tony and Steve got together in mid-June of last year, which meant several things.
Tony could now have Steve whenever he wanted, which was…surreal. He made sure to take advantage of that whenever and however possible, even if it meant they both got behind on work.
Although they still bickered about the same things, including moral quandaries, they now made up much quicker, and in much more entertaining ways.
But perhaps most importantly, by getting together with Steve on June 19th last year, a mere fifteen days before Steve's birthday, Tony had been made painfully aware very early on in their relationship that his way of approaching holidays and Steve’s were…very different.
***
Steve’s birthday was on July 4th, because of course it was, and Tony was bound and determined to make it the best party possible for Steve. He had contacted Bucky for help and advice, who echoed Tony’s sentiments that Steve wouldn’t want anything too big.
The problem was, Tony’s definition of a smaller party was still rather large.
On July 4th — and mind you, this was two and a half weeks into their relationship — Tony pulled out all the stops for Steve’s birthday. It didn’t hurt that many of their friends and colleagues had the day off for July 4th. Tony had been working non-stop to make sure the surprise party was perfect to a t.
The Stark Tower party room was dimmed with low lights, and the room whistled with joy from the decor placed purposefully throughout the room. The perfumes of women and cologne of men washed through the room, creating an inviting aura.
It was packed with former SHIELD colleagues, fellow Avengers, significant others, and even some extended family members (Tony saw the way Bucky was eyeing Sam’s sister, Sarah, who happened to be in New York for business for the week and extended her stay for the holiday.) Disco lights lit up the dim floor, and couches, loveseats, and armchairs were occupied by lovers and strangers alike.
Most importantly, in the far left corner, there were stacks of gifts for Steve’s birthday, most of which were from Tony. There were a few presents he was waiting to give his super soldier in private, as well.
The walls were adorned with childhood pictures of Steve with his friends that Bucky had found, portraits of the Howling Commandos, and silly selfies with the Avengers.
The countertop was overflowing with Steve’s favorite foods: his favorite kind of pizza, cookies, fruits, and snacks.
Tony looked at his watch nervously as he tapped his foot. Steve would be arriving any minute now —
The door suddenly opened, revealing Steve, hands in his pockets and mouth fixed as if he had been whistling. He was wearing jeans and a gray t-shirt, blonde hair slicked back as if he had recently showered. He looked up as he entered, eyes widening.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY STEVE!” the crowd bellowed. Steve looked up to find gigantic balloons spelling out “HBD STEVE” hovering over the door like an archway.
Suddenly, the conversation picked up.
“J, cue the music,” Tony announced, the party cheering behind him. They had had to stay quiet before so that Steve wouldn’t pick up on their presence with his super soldier hearing.
Tony walked up to his gobsmacked boyfriend, still standing underneath the balloons and taking in all the people and things in the room.
“Happy birthday, sweetheart.” Tony pecked Steve’s cheek. “I hope you like it. I couldn’t get everyone I wanted to come, but I think it’s a pretty good number, and the caterer’s one of my favorites for more casual parties—”
“—Casual parties?”
Tony felt his cheeks flush, worried that maybe he hadn’t done enough. His eyes wandered. “Not that your birthday is casual, Steve, just, you know, you don’t seem like the kind of guy who would want caviar on your birthday.”
Steve shook his head, still looking around the large room. “Yeah,” he agreed absentmindedly, gaze falling on the several stacks of presents in the corner. He pointed. “That’s just decor, right?”
“What?” inquired Tony, raising his eyebrow with a smirk. He was slightly concerned, and trying to mask it with his usual quirks. Steve didn’t have the big smile Tony had imagined he’d have, hadn’t engulfed him in one of his all-encompassing hugs that made Tony feel so adored, hadn’t kissed the daylights out of him —
He looked out of his realm.
“Those presents, wrapped in blue and red, those are…”
“They’re yours, sweetheart. Most are from me, but others wanted to chip in, too.”
At that moment, a waiter walked past them, asking if either one of them wanted champagne.
“No,” Steve said, waving the waiter away. He then brought his fingers to his furrowed eyebrows. He swallowed, then looked at Tony. “You planned all this?”
“No, I had JARVIS do it all.” An odd look passed over Steve’s face, and Tony laughed. “Of course I planned all of it. I started planning the night after our first kiss.” Tony took one of Steve’s hands then, interlacing their fingers. “With help from JARVIS.”
Steve laughed.
“Y’know,” Tony started, “it’s really unfair starting a relationship less than twenty days before your birthday. This is nothing compared to what it will be next year.”
Steve’s eyes widened. “Next year?”
Tony felt his heart clench. Right. It’s been less than three weeks, Stark, don’t start talking about year-long commitments.
“I just meant, it could have been better. I—I know that,” Tony said, eyes wandering.
“Wha—oh, no, no,” Steve placated, taking the hand that wasn’t holding Tony’s and holding Tony’s chin between his index finger and thumb. “This is all so…” Tony watched him search for the right word, “…thoughtful. And very special, since you planned it. I see Bucky, and Sam, and all the old pictures…” Steve gulped.
Tony decided to step in. “Sorry if that was too much. I had told Bucky we were planning a surprise party, and he insisted it wouldn’t bring your mood down—"
Steve shook his head, smiling at Tony. “—Seeing my Ma will never bring my mood down,” he insisted, gesturing his head over at the wall of pictures.
“Then what is it?” Tony asked, eyes boring into Steve’s.
Steve nodded, looked down, and swallowed. “I couldn’t have asked for someone to do more for my birthday. It means so much to me that my birthday means so much to you, even though we just got together.” He stopped then, considering.
Tony felt his heart ache, and smiled warily. “Was it too soon?”
“No, no,” Steve said, moving his thumb back and forth calmly over Tony’s chin and jaw. “I know I’ll enjoy tonight very much, and it will all be because of you. So, thank you, Tony. But in the future, can birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays in general be—” he stopped again, looking up at the ceiling, “—I mean, this can be a conversation, and we can find a middle ground, but I’m more than fine with just being with you, maybe going out to our favorite restaurant or something, and waking up with you the next day. That’s all. I guess that’s a roundabout way of saying I’m an easy guy to please,” Steve grinned softly.
“Oh,” Tony said. “So that explains why you looked like a ghost when you walked in.”
“I did not look like a ghost when I walked in—”
“—You were white as a sheet—”
“—I was just caught off guard that half of Manhattan was at my birthday party—”
“—Okay then,” Tony murmured, moving closer to Steve so their mouths were oh-so-close, and he could smell his peppermint breath, “—From now on, holidays will be a more intimate occasion.”
Steve smiled. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Steve leaned down and kissed Tony, a sweet, short peck given how many people were flocking around them.
“But you still—” Tony coughed, looking away from Steve for a moment, arms floundering, “—I mean, this, you think you can still, erm, enjoy being here?”
Steve grabbed Tony’s face in his hands, the pads of his thumbs brushing Tony's cheekbones. “Of course I will. I knew I would enjoy today, no matter what.” He leaned in to whisper into Tony's ear, "Don't focus on anybody else. It's just us."
***
It was seven months later, and Tony had kept to his word. With each holiday, the glamour and parties continued to decrease, and now, he had his most important task to face: his first Valentine’s Day with Steve.
If it were up to Tony, Steve would be getting a car, or an all-expenses-paid trip to a luxurious location, but he knew those weren’t things Steve wanted. Steve craved intimacy. He loved to be alone with Tony and bond together, but he'd much rather do so on their couch than on a private jet.
So, a party, even a small one this time, was a no-go.
Tony had made reservations at one of their favorite restaurants. It was on the quieter side, and Tony had managed to snag a booth at the back to ensure both their privacy and a more intimate feel.
Afterward, they would come home and…exchange gifts. Right? That’s how normal people did it? When Tony was with Pepper, he had showered her with presents the entire day. He had never spent Valentine’s seriously with any other partner. He wasn’t sure how to handle someone who wanted a low key Valentine’s Day, and he definitely didn’t know the norms.
It was the exchanging of gifts that Tony was most worried about, because Steve had given him an ultimatum several months ago, knowing how far in advance Tony found and paid for gifts for him.
***
“I don’t want you to spend any money on me for Valentine’s Day,” Steve had said. They were in bed on a late November night, Tony curled around Steve, Steve’s hand moving through tousled curls.
Tony had sat up to look Steve in the eye. “No money?”
Steve shook his head. “None.”
Tony gaped, looking around the room. “What about dinner?”
Steve opened his mouth, then closed it, considering. “We’ll split it. I’ll pay for yours and you’ll pay for mine.”
“But—”
“But nothing. You can be in charge of picking the place, if that helps.”
Tony pouted, reclaiming his favorite pillow, Steve’s chest. “That means no presents.”
“No it doesn’t.”
“What?”
Steve sighed. “Y'know, there are tons of things you can give someone without spending money.”
“Like what? What would be appropriate for Valentine’s Day? I don’t want to come across cheap.”
Steve laughed at that. “Baby, that’s impossible.” He kissed the crown of Tony’s head.
Silence overtook them for a moment as they soaked in the silence.
“Can you give me a hint?” Tony asked.
“Hmm?”
“A hint? For your Valentine’s present that I’m not supposed to spend any money on?”
Steve yawned. “Tony, I don’t need a present.”
Tony’s eyebrows furrowed. He slung his arm over Steve’s stomach, gripping him tight. “Over my dead body will you ever go a Valentine’s Day without a present.”
Steve offered a small chuckle.
Tony rolled his eyes. “Any tips? Pointers?”
Steve was silent for a moment. “I’m good with anything, Tones, but I watched a movie once where a guy wrote his partner a poem.” He yawned again. “That was nice.”
***
Cue Tony in his lab, pacing back and forth, Dum-E’s arm swinging in tandem with his steps as Tony kept muttering to himself.
His projectable screens were on several different pages: one a website full of rhymes, the other a blog on how to write a poem, and the third a list of revered love poems.
Tony finally stood in front of the screens, frowning but determined.
No one could ever say that Tony Stark didn’t throw himself completely into his projects.
***
Tony bit his lip and dragged his hands down his face.
C.A.P., the AI generating machine he had recently created, continued to read a blasphemous poem out loud to him.
“End of poem. Would you like to save it to your hard drive? ”
“What’s the usual answer, C.A.P.?”
“Deleting poem draft 216, Sir.”
C.A.P., or Create A Poem, had been created after Tony realized he was incapable of writing a poem that didn’t sound like it was written by a toddler.
At first, he had seized his assignment to write a poem with nervousness but diligence. He consistently created high-powered superhero suits, worked with his man-made hardware, and wrote code. Code had a rhythm to it, a rhyme, a reason. Tony had been positive that if he delved into studying poems, he’d be able to write one in no time.
However, it seemed that Tony couldn't quite master the artistry required to write poems. In fact, he realized that it had been decades since he attempted writing his feelings down on paper about anything.
Tony’s love language was gift-giving. He loved to shower loved ones and friends with things they would otherwise not be able to afford or access. He loved the smiles that lit up their faces.
Not words of affirmation, even if he loved receiving it. Tony always found a way to put his foot in his mouth.
It wasn’t until now, at age forty-seven, that Tony recognized how well his love language fell into his avoidant attachment issues. Give them a gift, wave them goodbye. Betray nothing too personal.
But then came Steve.
Steve, with his patience and generosity, wasn't afraid to kick Tony’s ass into gear when he saw him retreating back into his Tony Stark persona in private, or trying too hard with grandiose ideas or gifts. Even at public events, Steve seemed to sense when Tony was getting defensive or anxious, but was always able to calm him with a simple phrase.
“It’s just us,” Steve would say.
It’s just us.
Even amongst the dozens of people in the room, it's just us.
That’s what Tony had wanted the title of his poem to be, but to no avail.
He decided to go back to what he knew he could do – create AI generators.
Unfortunately, C.A.P. hadn’t had much more success than Tony had. Sure, the poems flowed better, but they still seemed distant. Tony would rather not give Steve a poem at all than give him a poem that sounded like it was written by someone else.
Because it was written by someone else. Well, something else.
So, as February 14th approached, desperate times called for desperate measures. Tony scrambled together his gift. Although he knew it would likely be disappointing for Steve, he hoped his boyfriend could see he tried.
***
The morning of Valentine’s Day, Tony woke up at 5:30am to find Steve out of bed. Steve usually didn’t get up for his morning run until 6, but Tony figured maybe he had something pressing to do that morning. Besides, it gave Tony time to marinate in his anxiety over the night ahead of them.
They had dinner reservations at 7, after which Tony planned to give Steve his gift. He didn’t want Steve to be in a sour mood for dinner – he wanted at least something to go right on his first Valentine’s with Steve – so he had decided to wait.
He heard footsteps coming up the staircase, although they didn’t have the usual pattern they did after a run.
Steve entered the bedroom, still in his pajamas, which were thankfully just a pair of boxers. He quietly shut the bedroom door, seeming to believe Tony was asleep.
Tony decided to let him believe it, even if Steve could probably tell from his super senses that Tony’s breathing was not that of someone sleeping. If Steve thought Tony was resting, though, he wouldn’t bother him.
Tony managed to drift back off to sleep until 7, at which time he turned over to huddle into Steve’s chest. They both slowly woke up. Tony inched as close to Steve as possible, burying his head where Steve’s neck met his shoulder, and winding their legs together.
After a few moments, Tony felt Steve’s hand drift to his hair, massaging his scalp in a relaxing motion.
“Happy Valentine’s, Tones,” Steve whispered, kissing the crown of Tony’s head.
Tony kissed Steve’s shoulder. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Steve.”
***
They got out of bed together. Steve insisted on making breakfast. Tony only acquiesced since he couldn’t cook anything, and Steve’s breakfasts were legendary. Leftovers were usually taken to the Avengers common area, and were gone by night-time the same day.
As Steve got his things ready near the stove, Tony stood nearby rubbing his eyes. He was about to ask when his morning meeting started when he saw something out of place.
A note.
I love how you look when you first wake up.
Love,
Steve
Tony walked closer to the refrigerator, touching the blue sticky note with his forefinger, not daring to move it.
“Steve?”
“Yeah?”
Tony turned his head to meet Steve’s eyes. His finger remained on the note. “What is this?”
Steve smiled. The blush that Tony loved so much spread from his cheeks down his neck. “You’ll see.”
“What do you mean, ‘I’ll see’!?” he guffawed.
***
They were everywhere.
Well, not everywhere, but in every room, in several locations, and each note had the sincerity and intimacy that all of Tony’s poems, both written by hand or C.A.P., lacked.
In the bathroom, as they brushed their teeth in tandem after breakfast, there was a post-it note on the mirror over Tony’s sink.
I love our morning routine together. I love having someone to get ready for a new day with. I love even more that it’s you.
Yours always,
Steve
Tony had tried to get an explanation out of Steve to no avail.
When Tony went to take a shower, he heard Steve yell from the bedroom, “Check the tiles!”
Tony’s eyes wandered.
The post-it note excited him, and he didn’t question Steve about it. Not this one.
***
It was nearing time for their reservations at dinner. Tony had put on a violet button down shirt with dark pants that Steve had complimented numerous times. He turned around to find Steve fiddling with a watch, wearing a blue shirt that complimented his eyes, a white vest, and navy trousers.
Dinner went by quickly and with enthusiasm. This, Tony could do. He never quite understood what dates were really for before his relationship with Pepper. It wasn’t until Steve that Tony enjoyed dates. Every single one.
Abiding by the promise Tony made to Steve that late November evening, Tony paid for Steve’s food, Steve paid for Tony’s, and they gathered their coats to head back home.
After they entered the car that Steve had insisted he drive Tony in, Tony looked at Steve as the engine ignited.
“When we get back home, let’s go straight to the lab.”
“Why?”
“Because,” Tony said nervously, playing with his hands in his lap but giving Steve his signature Stark smirk and his voice an air of confidence, “my Valentine’s present to you is there.”
Steve narrowed his eyes as he got on the road, clearly not buying Tony’s schtick.
***
When they entered the lab, Tony started pacing back and forth in front of Steve as the glass door closed behind them.
The lab’s fluorescent light was unforgiving, and Tony knew his sweat, his furrowed brow, his nervous posture – none of it would get by Steve.
“Tony?”
“Look,” Tony sighed, rubbing his hands through his dark hair, “It’s not…I mean, it could be better. But – and I know there are no but’s when it comes to presents – I just want you to know I spent several weeks trying to do it, and I couldn’t. I tried to find an alternative.” He sighed, defeated. “I hope you like it. I’m sorry if it doesn’t live up to your expectations.”
Tony then walked over to one of his desks, opening a drawer with a special key, and handing Steve a simply wrapped, small present.
“Tony, thank you,” Steve started, “but what are you talking about?”
Tony rolled his eyes. “Steve, this is your Valentine’s present.”
“But—”
“—I know, you didn’t want me spending any money. I didn’t.”
“No, that’s not,” Steve sighed, putting one hand on his hip while the other cradled the wrapped gift gently. “What you just said. What were you trying to do that you couldn’t do?”
Tony groaned. “You know.”
“If I knew, why would I ask?”
Tony groaned at Steve’s sincerity, putting his head in his hands as he muttered, “A poem.”
Soft footsteps quickly approached as a large hand covered his, encouraging him to reveal his face.
“A poem?” Steve asked.
Tony inhaled slowly, bracing for impact. “That night. The night you asked for me to not spend any money on your Valentine’s gift. I had asked you what you wanted. You said you had seen a movie where a guy wrote a poem for his partner. And I really, really tried Steve. I’ve read more poems in the last month than some people with literature degrees, I swear. I even made an AI program.”
Steve frowned. “An AI program?”
“Say hi, C.A.P.,” Tony said right before a robotic male voice with an American accent came over the speakers. “Hello, Captain Rogers. It is a pleasure to be named after you.”
Steve stared wide-eyed at Tony.
“It actually stands for Create A Poem, but it worked, so.”
A few moments passed before Steve grasped his present in both hands and looked Tony in the eyes.
“I love it.”
Tony laughed. “You have to open it before you say that, Steve—”
“—No, I don’t. Not when I know how much time and effort you spent putting this together. How hard you tried writing a poem.” Steve blushed. “I didn’t remember telling you that until just now. I was falling asleep. I’ll love anything you get me Tones, you never have to worry.”
Tony was just as nervous as before, though. “But you…do like poems?”
Steve groaned, “Yes, Tony, I do, but that doesn’t mean—”
“—Just open it. I’m sweating bullets.”
Steve smiled. He took Tony’s hand and led them to the plush couch nearby. Steve ripped the wrapping paper off with care.
It was a book.
“My dad—back in the day, his staff had to hand embroider books for the company. I found the supplies. No money.”
Steve stared at Tony. “You put this together by hand?”
Tony looked down at the floor. “When it inevitably falls apart tomorrow, understand I was using materials from the 80’s.”
Steve laughed, opening the book.
The first page read,
It’s Just Us.
Steve turned to Tony and smiled, acknowledging the phrase he often said to Tony now being echoed back at him.
The second page read,
TONY’S ATTEMPTS AT WRITING POEMS, A RANDOM SAMPLE
Steve laughed as he read Tony’s poems, eyes getting shiny at some points.
“They aren’t too bad,” he whispered, turning to Tony with a smile.
“Keep going.”
C.A.P.’S* ATTEMPTS AT WRITING POEMS, A RANDOM SAMPLE
*C.A.P. is an artificial intelligence system standing for Create A Poem, not to be confused with Captain Steve Rogers
Steve read all of C.A.P.’s poems, smiling at some and reading others with a thoughtful look on his face.
“You beat a computer,” Steve said, smiling.
Tony snickered. “Humans can’t beat computers.”
Steve held up the booklet and pointed at it. “Well I have proof right here.”
Tony slotted himself even closer to Steve, resting his head on his shoulder.
“This is the last part.”
TONY’S FAVORITE POEMS: FOUND DURING EXHAUSTIVE RESEARCH OF ENGLISH POETRY IN THE 20TH AND 21ST CENTURIES
Tony had managed to narrow it down to ten poems. Ten poems whose prose he wished he could mirror, whose language he wished he could capture, whose magic he wished he could put on a page himself.
Steve closed the book. Tony sat up.
“I know it isn’t what you wanted, but—”
He was cut off by a deep, hungry kiss from Steve, his big, broad hands covering Tony’s face.
After the kiss, Steve nuzzled Tony’s nose. “It’s perfect.”
Tony shook his head. “Your post-it notes were so personal…and the only poems worth reading in there are written by professional poets.”
Steve smiled. “Nah. I think C.A.P. had some good things to say.”
Tony managed a laugh.
Steve moved a few inches away to look down at the book in his lap, picking it up in his hand and holding it between them.
“I’m sorry if it didn’t live up to your expectations. This kind of stuff isn’t quite up my alley, you know.”
“I know. And it beat every expectation by a mile.” Steve stole a kiss.
Tony smiled, a watery attempt before looking down. “God, what would the world think if they knew that all Captain America got for Valentine’s was—”
“—Hey Tones.”
Tony looked up. “Yeah?”
Steve leaned forward, resting their foreheads together. Tony stared into Steve’s beautiful blue eyes.
“It’s just us.”
***