Work Text:
Steve was coming home.
It played over in Tony’s head, like some sort of loop.
Steve was coming home. No more letters or waiting anymore.
Steve was coming home.
______
The first time Tony saw him was in his army uniform.
Well, that wasn’t quite true. They’d gone to school together, except Steve was a year older than him and a football player where Tony was a science geek. Tony had had a couple of classes with him, but they’d never interacted much beyond being in the same lab group for first semester.
So, the first time Tony saw him, really saw him, was in his army uniform at a cafe. It was Tony’s summer job, his source of spending money since his father refused to indulge him in anything that could remotely be classified as ‘fun’.
“Hi, my name is Tony, how may I help you today?” He’d recited with a smile, pen at the ready as Steve looked up at him. Wow, his eyes are blue, Tony thought, staring at the widened gaze looking back at him.
“Uh, just a coffee, for--just for now,” Steve had stuttered back.
“Sure,” Tony replied kindly, “I’ll leave the menu in case you decide on anything else,”
“Thank you,” Steve replied with a small, relieved huff, and Tony felt as if he was being thanked for something beyond taking an order.
With one last smile, Tony went to grab the coffee pot, throwing another glance behind him. Steve’s broad shoulders were lined with tension under the green shades of his uniform, his chin dipping close to his chest and both hands flat on the table in front of him, like he was trying to hold something down.
Tony came back with the coffee pot, flipping the mug over and filling it. “Anything else catch your eye?” He asked, looking into that blue gaze again.
“What?” Steve’s eyes widened and pink bloomed along his cheeks. “O-oh, the-the menu. Uh, no, not yet.”
Tony didn’t fight the grin that came, just kept it gentle enough that Steve couldn’t take it as being laughed at. “You know, Clint makes a mean apple pie,” Tony suggested. “Our cook,” He then clarified at Steve’s confused look. “Don’t think he’s touched a measuring cup in his life, but somehow he pulls everything together okay. If you were stuck,” He added, still smiling in hopes of putting Steve’s obviously jittered nerves at ease.
“You know, that sounds about perfect,” Steve replied, slowing smiling back. His shoulders sagged down, just a little, but Tony felt something uncoil in his stomach at the sight.
“I’ll put that in right away,” Tony assured him softly.
“Would you…” Steve hesitated. Tony waited patiently. “You wouldn’t want to sit and join me for a slice, would you?”
Tony blinked in surprise, looking down into that blue gaze again, that shy, wavering smile. Tony couldn’t help but grin back, even as he replied, “I’m working,”
Steve ducked down, hiding what Tony could only guess was an epic blush, just by seeing the start of it, “Right, of course.”
“But I’m off in an hour,” Tony offered quickly. “I know somewhere we could go,”
Steve looked up again in surprise, a hopeful look blooming in his eyes. “Yeah?”
“If you don’t mind waiting,” Tony added apologetically.
“Of course not. I’ll be here.” Steve replied softly, the smile that was quietly becoming one of Tony’s favorite things making another appearance.
____
Tony clutched at the last letter Steve had written him, before the one saying he was finally coming home.
I think of you and that pier every day, Steve had wrote, just when it gets a little rough over here. So, usually most of the time. Bucky caught me smiling to myself the other day and still hasn’t stopped teasing me about it. I haven’t told him, but...I think he knows anyway. He won’t tell anyone, I know he won’t. It’s stupid I have to be so scared about it, though. You have such a beautiful smile, why should I be ashamed to tell anyone that it makes me smile just thinking about it?
I don’t mean to be so negative. But being out here, it just makes you think. What am I really fighting for? The right answer would be for my country (even though half of it hates me, but I said I was going to stop being negative). I think the real answer is for you. To make it back to you. I think it’s love. I love you, Tony. I’m fighting so I can come back and tell you right to your pretty brown eyes.
I don’t want you to worry right away, but I probably won’t be able to write for a little while. Really nothing to be worried about, but it might be a few weeks.
Until then, I love you Tony.
There were teardrops smudging the neat writing. Tony couldn’t tell anymore if they were old or new.
To make it back to you.
Back. Steve was coming back to him.
____
Tony licked at the ice cream cone Steve bought him. It was melting fast in the hot July air, but at least the water provided some coolness to the breeze as he sat at a table beside it with Steve next to him.
“July fourth? Really? How patriotic.” Tony teased fondly.
“Yeah, yeah, get it out,” Steve replied with a friendly smile. “I’m the pinnacle of patriotism.”
“I’ll say,” Tony agreed. “Blonde hair, blue eyes, you even still smell a bit like apple pie. Be honest with me, it’s just your natural scent, isn’t it?”
“Haha,” Steve rolled his eyes. “You were right about your cook, of course I had to have two slices,”
“Yeah, Clint’s something,” Tony agreed again, looking down at his dripping ice cream. “But only two days, huh? Really taking ‘em fast, now.”
“They need everyone they can get,” Steve shrugged. Yeah, shipping out two days after his eighteenth birthday wasn’t that fair, but it was happening to everyone now. At least Steve finished high school. “I got a buddy over there already. Bucky?”
“Barnes?” Tony said in recognition. “Kinda looks like a pitbull, but more angry? I remember him,”
“Don’t let his face fool you, he’s a huge softy.” Steve told him with an affectionate smile. “But yeah. Shipped out a few months ago after his birthday. We send letters, sometimes, but uh,” Steve blushed again. “Won’t really be able to now when I ship. He sends some to his family, got a bunch of sisters, but I don’t…” He trailed off again, scuffing his show lightly against the pier. “Don’t got a whole lot of people waiting on me, or anyone waiting, really.”
Tony felt a pang of sadness in his chest. This beautiful boy, and he had no one in this world?
“I know you’re still in school, probably got loads of friends there. Bet you got a sweetheart, too, but, uh, if it wouldn’t be too much of a bother--” Steve started haltingly.
“I’d love to get letters from you,” Tony blurted, probably too fast. Steve looked up at him again, a pleased but shy look in his eyes.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Tony breathed, then he became aware of the warmth under his hand and quickly snatched it back from where he had seemed to accidentally rest it on top of Steve’s on the table. He blushed, quickly darting a look around to make sure no one saw. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Steve doing the same, a similar blush much more obvious on his paler cheeks.
It was silent for a moment. Steve cleared his throat. “You’re cute when you blush.” He murmured, giving a shy smile.
Tony felt his cheeks grow hotter.
_____
Until then, I love you Tony.
Then never came. Because Steve was coming back to Tony. Just like he promised.
____
The letters started coming first from an army camp, then later from Vietnam. The first time he’d seen that word on the letter he swore his heart stopped beating. Steve had reassured him in the letter, and the many more after that. Told him not to worry. Focus on school. How’s Rhodey? Holding the football team up okay? He met Bucky’s unit, which was more than either of them dreamed. Really, Tony, he was fine. Smile. Your eyes look so beautiful when you smile.
He learned that Steve spent his senior year in an orphanage, after his mother died. His mother had died slowly, right before Steve’s eyes. He said he barely even got to see her at the end, because she’d always been so fearful he’d catch something after he’d been so sickly as a child.
Tony told him about being lonely, about his father’s high expectations and his mother’s absent gaze. He told him about how Jarvis had taught him to hide his Elvis posters in a box so his dad wouldn't see.
Steve had asked for a picture. Tony hesitated, then sent him a picture he’d taken with Pepper recently. Just in case.
I don’t know if you remember her, Tony wrote back, She went to school with us, too. She’s always been like a sister to me. She’s probably going to take over the world someday too, so just be prepared for that.
I love you too, Steve.
____
The Barnes’ had some pictures of Steve. They’d given out a nice one of him in his uniform, and Tony had kept that one, but he liked the ones where it was just Steve instead. There were only a few pinned up, pictures were so rare, but there was one where Steve was in the sun. Tony could imagine how the light bounced off the golden strands of his hair, like it had that day at the pier. Tony studied the sparkle he could see even though his blue eyes were dulled into gray by the photo. He was smiling. Tony stared at that picture for a long time. Mrs. Barnes asked if he’d like to keep it since they had a copy as well.
Mrs. Barnes knew. Tony had known the moment he showed up that she knew. He almost left, but she’d smiled kindly at him, greeted him like an old friend even though they’d never met in his life.
“They announced his name,” Tony told her abruptly. “Over the intercom, at school the other day. In the morning, they sometimes announce the names…”
Mrs. Barnes smiled gently at him. “I remember Rebecca telling me, too. Printed in the local paper, as well.”
Tony knew. He’d seen the paper. Bought it. Tore it apart. Bought another one. Put it with the letters and the pictures in a box where his dad wouldn't see.
Steve’s coming home.
I love you, Tony.
____
Everyone was so numb to it. In school no one even reacted when the announcement came on any more. Tony had watched the teacher pick at her nails while all the names were read, so he’d gone to the bathroom, sat in a stall alone and listened to the bored voice of the office secretary.
He clutched that last letter in his hand.
I think the real answer is for you.
“Good morning everyone,” The voice was echoey in the bathroom. “There will be an assembly next Tuesday…”
To make it back to you.
Steve was coming back, Tony thought slightly hysterically.
“And now for the list of our local Vietnam casualties…”
A sob tore through the empty bathroom. Steve came back. Tony hadn’t seen him. It was a closed casket. He wouldn’t ever see him like he did that day at the pier.
Until then, I love you, Tony.
“...Steve Rogers…”
I love you, Tony.