justakidfrombrklyn | At the door of Stark Tower

Tony's been watching his security feed the whole way, but damned if it isn't still some kinda surprise when Steve Rogers walks through his front door. Well. His building's front door, there're floors and floors and all kinds of security to get through, but hey. He could just tell the doorman to let Rogers on through, but there's the temptation there to a little drama, and he never could resist temptation when it was offered up on such a shiny vibranium platter.

Ninety seconds and an express elevator ride later, Tony's striding out into the atrium, grinning and waving.

"Steve!"

That was... about eighty times warmer than Steve was expecting. Which is why Steve was instantly wary. He'd had a strange relationship with Tony's father, and the son had proven to be very different but equally as mercurial. If he knew anything, he knew that.

"Hey, Tony," he said, keeping it low key, trying not to call attention to himself.

Tony's grin ticks a little wider at the guarded set of Steve's body language.

"Hey, c'mon up, lemme pour you a drink. You came at a good time; I'm bored stiff, and if it'd been five minutes from now, I'd probably have started taking something apart again."

He keeps himself from rolling his eyes just barely; Steve knows he can't get drunk and without the benefit, the taste isn't worth it.

"Sounds great," because contrary to popular belief, he can actually tell a lie. He doesn't like to, but sometimes, subtlety is necessary.

"I'll follow you."

"Of course you will," Tony shoots back, before turning on his heel, and heading back for the private express elevator. He doesn't look back once - not that he'd need to, with all the polished chrome fittings.

Steve sighs as tiredly as he ever does around Stark and slips into the elevator after him.

"So... how've you, uh, how've you been?"

Tony leans back against the elevator wall, gestures lazily to one of the sensors, and keeps on grinning.

"Oh, you know. Same-old same-old. Inventing, dodging assassins, defending the free world, you know, the usual. You?"

"Pretty much the same thing, other than, uh... the inventing," he admits, glancing around. He's not quite sure what Stark knows about everything, other than what's been plastered all over the internet at this point, but he's happy to pretend like everything was hunky dory, or as close to it as it ever got.

"Well, we can't all be super-geniuses."

Tony refrains from giving Steve a friendly thump on the shoulder as the elevator comes to a stop, merely gesturing for him to follow out into his penthouse.

"Okay, so, this floor is totally secure these days," he comments as he heads behind the bar. "Just so you know. Did a complete refit during repairs, you know, about the time Fury chatted me up for some shiny new Starktech for those flying fortresses of his."

He winces at the mention of Project Insight.

"I'm assuming it's secure FROM SHIELD as much as anything else, right?"

Okay, Tony just has to give him a Look.

"Really Steve, this is me we're talking about, you think I'd let them have any backdoor I didn't already know about? Of course it is."

He gestures to a barstool, pours himself a couple fingers of whiskey, and something a little... stronger. For Steve.

"Give that a try. Me and Bruce distilled it ourselves."

He looks at it for just a moment before taking the glass and taking a sip. It tastes like rubbing alcohol... but it does seem to give him the kind of buzz he remembers from some of his old cough medicine, so he keeps it near him.

"How's Bruce doing? I'm assuming he's been here working with you."

"Oh, he's doing great! Yeah, you'll probably see him around sometime, even though I refitted an entire floor for him. Maybe you can pop in and say hi."

Tony sets the bottle (okay, okay, repurposed flask, complete with masking tape and Bruce's handwriting in green sharpie, because he has a sense of humour) next to Steve's glass.

"Maybe," but he sounds beat.

"I uh... well, I really hate to ask this, but given the current situation" and the fact that he can't remember anything but watching Fury die on his living room floor, "I'm kind of out of an apartment. And a job, I'm sure you've noticed. So I was wondering if you... might have a couch or two I could crash on?"

"How's a bed sound?" Tony offers instead, because yeah, Steve sounds beat.

The relief pouring off of him is palpable.

"I could definitely use a bed."

"I kinda figured," Tony said, grin turning wry. "You want another drink, or...?"

He shakes his head, because he's already asking enough of Tony.

"So... how much do you know about what happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

Tony takes a sip of his drink, and licks his lips before answering.

"Enough. I know enough."

He looks at Tony a little more firmly now.

"Do you know about what I'm doing now?"

"Having a drink?" No, he can't help himself.

And Steve actually looks genuinely angry for a moment before breathing out and letting some of it drain away.

"Do you know about Bucky?"

Oops. Tony hadn't meant to actually piss Steve off, just... poke him a little.

"Your BFF from back in the day, right?" he asks. Only he's not stupid, farthest thing from it, and the way Steve reacted... "Except there's something more going on, I'm guessing, than a trip down memory lane."

He swallows, audibly, and nods.

"They... the things they did to him. I read the whole file and I almost puked. He looked into my eyes and he didn't even know me."

Except for when he'd looked into his eyes and HAD known him and both had been more painful than the bullet wounds ever could be.

Aaaaaand that needed a replay.

"Hold on a sec, are you saying he's still alive? Because I could've sworn you were the only successful super-soldier type to come out of that whole mess."

Tony takes another sip of his drink, and raises an eyebrow at Steve. Because, really?

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