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Tony had the most beautiful eyes, Steve decided. They seemed to change depth depending on Tony’s mood, and now they were glittering in the low light. They tried to tamp down on the affection, but right now, with their thighs pressing together as they worked, Steve couldn’t imagine a place he’d rather be.
Tony noticed Steve staring. “What’s up, big guy?”
“Nothin’. Just admiring the way you look.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, you’re not too shabby yourself.” Tony grinned, and Steve felt himself fall more in love with him. Tony’s voice had an accent, a mix somewhere between British and something else, something dangerous and nearly illegal. As long as he put guns in their hands, the GIs were willing to ignore it. Tony also preferred talking with his hands. His graceful fingers fluttered like dancers.
The first time Steve met Tony, his heart had stopped in his chest. Steve had had these sick and improper feelings all his life about other boys. He knew how to ignore them and starve them. But something about the way Tony’s lips quirked up made him forget all that.
After a rocky start, Tony and Steve became fast friends. For Steve, who wanted to be simultaneously as close to and as far from Tony as possible, it was awful. Tony loved touching people: casual taps here, the occasional arm pull there. Every time Tony touched Steve, Steve had wanted to grab back until one quiet night, when he did. That was the beginning of everything.
They grew impossibly close. The Commandos loved to tease them for their codependency issues. Tony and Steve laughed along, not knowing how else to respond, and willing to play along. After all, it was a well known fact around camp that they did spent almost every waking moment together.
Tonight, Tony was fixing a two way radio. He swore he could make it better from a box a scraps, and Steve agreed with him. Mostly. Steve kept getting distracted from his reports, plans, and Tony. There was something so wonderful about being this close to the man he loved. Steve knew they couldn’t be seen being intimate in public, and that true intimacy had to be found someplace completely private, but he would take what he got. Every second alone with Tony felt like complete lifetimes.
“Are you expecting any visitors tonight?” Steve asked. Tony’s tent was prone to explosions and noxious smells, and the soldiers tended to stay away, but some were persistent when they wanted something.
“Why Cap’n,” Tony said. “How presumptuous of you. I have half a mind to tell you to leave.” The upturned corners of his lips betrayed how much he wanted Steve to stay.
“Then do it.” Steve leaned in closer, licking his lips. Their mouths were mere inches apart now. He watched as Tony’s eyes followed the movement.
“Do what?” Tony said, distractedly.
Steve huffed a laugh before sealing their lips together. Tony pulled at his shirt, closer and closer until Steve suddenly found himself shirtless. They wrestled out of their clothes. Steve got himself naked the quickest, and used his extra time to help Tony get out of his own. And then Steve was lost in Tony, the feel of him, the shape of him, the smell… He struggled keeping himself quiet.
After they had sex, Steve would always let himself cuddle with Tony for just a moment and pretend they could have a relationship like everyone else’s. Tonight was no different, although he did have ulterior motives for getting Tony loose and relaxed.
“I have something I need to tell you.” Steve said.
Tony shifted to meet Steve’s eyes. “It’s about the mission.”
Steve nodded. There was a small Nazi outpost a few hundred miles away. Colonel Phillips had decided that Steve and his specialized unit would have to be the ones to take it down.
“I was wondering when you were going to tell me.”
“Tony, I wanted to so badly. I wanted to tell you the moment I heard, and then every moment I saw you. I just…”
“Couldn’t.” Tony finished for him.
“Yeah,” Steve responded, lamely. He hated lying to Tony, but he had orders.
“Steve, I’m not mad that you didn’t tell me. I know you were under orders not to. I promise you, I’m not mad.” Tony lightly kissed Steve on the lips. However, Tony’s beautiful dark eyes looked like inky pools, sad and raging.
“If you’re not mad, then what is upsetting you?”
“I’m worried about you, Steve.” Tony chewed his lip. “I know you are incredibly capable and skilled, and I am so proud of you but…” His eyes grew damp; not enough for a full tear but still glittering, silver.
“Tony…. You know that I will always come back for you, right? The only thing that’s gonna kill me is you.” He held Tony closer, and let his mind drift. Tonight, he would let himself have this. And if he snuck out of the assistant engineer’s tent at 3:38 that morning, well, that was nobody’s business but his own.
The images of burning flesh and bloody bodies wouldn't leave his mind. He supposed that he should be grateful for a successful first mission with no casualties and few injuries for his team, but he could not forget the smell of gunpowder and lead… Anyways, they were just stopping for a few minutes before continuing to the rendezvous point.
Steve shifted around to get comfortable on the ground, and his fingers shook in the cold night air. He tried to sketch on the margins of some old newspaper he had found, but his drawing was coming out shaky. He didn’t know if it was the chill in the air or the subject itself refusing to be brought to life. The nose he could draw perfectly every time, and the mouth… Well, you didn’t kiss a mouth dozens of times and not get good at drawing that mouth. But the eyes! Sometimes they glittered like raindrops in the sun, and sometimes they were bottomless pits. Steve shook his head. His muse certainly was elusive.
“Whatcha got there?” A voice called near his ear. Panicking, Steve shoved the drawing down his shirt.
“Jesus, Buck. Don’t sneak up on me. You know I got a weak heart.” Bucky Barnes, his best friend for as long as Steve could remember, was grinning down at him.
“Weak heart my ass. You ain’t had a weak heart since we were five.” Bucky dropped down on the ground next to Steve. “So. What were you drawing?”
“You know it ain’t nobody’s business but my own.” Steve pretended like he wasn’t just staring at the very male mouth of his very male lover that his own very male hands had drawn.
Bucky whistled. “So it was that type of drawing, huh? No wonder you’ve been acting all odd. Who’s the lucky girl?”
“Bucky, I'm not gonna tell you. Tell me you know this by now.”
“No, no. I get it. I mean, why wouldn’t you tell your oldest and dearest friend about your love life? That's absurd.”
Steve blushed. “It’s too soon to say whether it’s love or not.” That was partially a lie. Steve was definitely in love, but it certainly was too soon.
“Is she a local girl?” Yes, he is, Steve thought. And his very existence is a crime but he is a survivor: a beautiful, perfect survivor.
“Bucky,” Steve hissed. “Enough.” Steve could see a few more figures approaching them. It would be the rest of the commandos, ready to move out.
“Don’t think this is over.”
“I would expect nothing less.”
They continued their walk back to base. The Howling Commandos, they called themselves. Steve knew they had an official name, but he liked the team spirit the name gave. After a difficult mission, exhaustion set deep in their bones, but they did their best to keep each other afloat.
“Dernier got himself a pretty little bird.” Falsworth was saying. “Tiny thing. And English.”
Gabe Jones wolf whistled. “How'd that happen? I thought the English were off limits.”
Dernier shrugged. “Zhere is nothing like a dame. Nothing in the world.” Under his breath he muttered, “Même si elle est anglaise.”
Jones snorted. “Faute de grives, on mange des merles, oui?” Jones and Dernier laughed, and Steve smirked. He liked learning languages, and now, he was picking up French from Dernier and German from Jones. (And Hebrew from Tony, but Steve would deny that either of them knew it till his dying day.)
“What of you, then, Oh Captain of Ours? Have you got a girl somewhere? You and Carter look considerably close.” Falsworth asked.
“You know the only girl for me is my Colt.” Steve replied. He noticed Bucky getting quieter and quieter beside him.
“I woulda thought that rusty old shield you carry around all the time is your best gal.”
The men all laughed.
“I saw you holding it the other day. You know there’s not a bit of rust on her.”
Falsworth scoffed. “Of course I held it. It’s a powerful weapon. I felt impossibly impressive, like a comic book hero or the like.”
The conversation then flitted from person to person, as Falsworth grilled each man about their lovelives. Bucky grabbed Steve’s arm and held him back, letting the rest of the unit pass the two of them.
“Steve, you know I love you, right?” Bucky asked, hushed. Steve nodded. “Then you know this is coming outta a place of love, yeah?”
Again, Steve nodded. “What’s this about, Buck?”
“I gotta know, with all that talk about Carter and dames, you aren’t seeing a girl, are you?” Steve fet his knees weakening. Bucky continued, “It’s that half-Stark, Howard’s half-brother, isn’t it? I saw you leaving his tent the morning we moved out.”
“Oh God,” Steve whispered. His knees nearly gave out.
“Listen to me, Steve,” Bucky grabbed Steve’s arms. “I don’t have the time or energy to worry about what you are right now. But you have to be more careful. You can’t be seen with him like that. You are our commanding officer. We can’t lose you.”
Steve knew what he meant. It would be one thing if they were two privates, bored and horny. There would always be higher-ups willing to look the other way a long as nothing serious was going on. But Steve was a captain, and a good one at that, and it wouldn’t do him or his men well to be seen compromised with the local (and male) consultant.
“Jesus, Buck. I’m sorry. I wish I could promise it won’t happen again, but I can’t. We’ll be more careful, but if this is all I get with him, then I’m going to take it.”
Bucky said nothing for a few agonizing seconds. Then finally,
“Who knew war would make you so damn sentimental? I hope you know what you’re doing. Now let’s catch up to them before they get lost.”
When they caught up to the rest of the Commandos, Bucky was able to blend himself back into the conversation as they flitted from girls to baseball back to girls again. But Steve couldn’t find it in himself to do more than to nod and occasionally smile, too wrapped up in his own thoughts.
When they finally made it back to the base camp, all Steve wanted to do was curl up in a deep sleep. He reported to Col. Phillips as quickly as he could before finally crashing into a comatose state. He knew Tony and Howard would be busy with repairs for the next few weeks and also knew it would be too dangerous to visit him.
A slow week or so went by. A few times, Tony and Howard left their makeshift work tent to eat dinner with Steve and the other Commandos. Invariably, Tony would have a smudge of grease or oil on his face, and it would take everything in Steve’s power to resist wiping it off.
New training began. Peggy Carter, on loan from the British Armed Forces, helped Steve run drills and go over mission protocols. Steve found himself enjoying the distractions. Col. Phillips informed Steve of his next mission.
Steve knew he could visit Tony after hours without being interrupted.
“God, how I missed you,” he whispered into Tony's hair, embracing him as tight as can be. Tony held on just as tight.
“I know, Steve, I know.” Tony whispered back. “Shit, everyday. Every damn day felt like a goddamned lifetime. אני אוהב אותך.” And Steve pretended that he didn't know what that meant.
Steve sealed their lips together, giving and taking as much as he could, for as long as he could. He did not remember coming up for air, but he also knew that he must have. He touched as much of Tony as he could, grabbing and pulling and holding. There would be more missions, even more dangerous than the last. There would always be more violence and death. Steve couldn’t let himself die not knowing that Tony knew how much he meant to him. And Tony could feel the same urgency in his own bones, and he took what he could from Steve. Steve let Tony take whatever wanted because he knew he could not give him the future he deserved. Rough hands touching hard planes, they spent themselves in near tandem.
Steve clutched Tony to his chest as tight as he could that night. They both pretended to sleep, while knowing that the other was also awake. If this was to be one of their last moments, then they would let themselves pretend.
“I love you,” Steve whispered, loud in the quiet night. And this time, neither one pretended to not understand.