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Steve would never get used to hospitals.
He could honestly, hand-on-heart say that he hated them with a passion. It was the whole clinical feel of things that got to him – the smell of antiseptic, the beeping of the machines, the never-escaping feeling of sadness and grief that overwhelmed you as soon as you walked through the glass doors. He would have to sit on the unforgiving plastic chairs for hours on end, being driven mad by his own thoughts and, most likely, self-pity. And even at the opposite side of things, even if he was lying in that massively uncomfortable bed in that blinding white room with too many pieces of equipment and a stupid amount of injuries, Steve would wake up feeling confused and lost and wondering what year it was this time. Steve had spent more time in hospitals since he’d woken up a few years ago than he had done when he was a scrawny Brooklyn kid with countless ailments weighing him down.
95% of the time, it wasn’t even him that was in the hospital bed.
Steve glanced worriedly at Tony’s still form, watching his chest rise and fall steadily. It was just supposed to be routine clean up, nothing more. Hell, Steve was surprised Tony had actually showed up to help out, and he hadn’t hesitated to let him know that. Tony had grumbled and complained the whole time, letting everyone on the comms know just how much he didn’t want to be there.
Well, this just made Steve really mad.
It hadn’t been long before they were arguing in front of the majority of New York’s fire department. Steve could remember yelling in Tony’s face about how he wasn’t a team player, and he was too selfish and arrogant to even consider helping anyone else.
Steve could vividly remember Tony’s venomous retort about how he should’ve stayed in the 40’s, because he was useless now.
And because they had been yelling so loudly, because they decided that arguing in the middle of a demolition site was a superb idea, they didn’t notice the debris falling from above. It was only until too late that Steve noticed some officers yelling and pointing at the falling bricks. Steve looked up, and knew it was too late to run, that he would be underneath all that brick in just a few seconds and there was nothing he could do about it.
Steve accepted his fate, and closed his eyes.
Metal hands grabbed him by the arms, and after a quick yell of ‘not today, Cap’, Tony threw him sideways, and Steve caught a scared glance before the faceplate flipped down and rubble came down on him, covering him.
Steve had screamed himself hoarse over the comms whilst they dug Tony out. He almost collapsed in relief when he saw the glowing, steady light of the arc reactor, tying Tony onto life.
They got him to hospital as quickly as possible. The doctors kept saying that the only reason he was alive was the suit. He was severely banged up; countless broken ribs, a concussion, fractured skull, bruises and cuts to every available space of skin. Steve had stopped listening at this point and could only think about the immense guilt that threatened to overcome him.
Steve felt so damn responsible, but so amazed at Tony’s fight to survive.
He watched the way Tony’s muscles twitched as he lay prone on the bed, the way his dirty hair was falling forwards onto his marked face. He couldn’t take his eyes of the bright blue of Tony’s chest, reminding Steve that he was still here. Steve raised a hand and traced lightly along Tony’s face, shaking slightly as he rested upon Tony’s collarbone. He knew he was in love with this stupid, reckless, annoying idiot. He’d known it from the moment Tony had invited him into his Tower and welcomed him into the 21st century with open arms. He hated the way Tony never ate regular meals, how he rarely slept and would work himself into exhaustion, how he wouldn’t talk to anyone if he was immersed in a project.
Mainly, he hated how he loved him despite all of this.
Tony’s face when he had an idea, Tony’s fingers nimbly flicking through hologram designs, Tony’s excited voice when he explained tech and science with Bruce, Tony’s natural smile that wasn’t rehearsed or for the public eye, Tony’s reassuring tap to his arc reactor when he thought no one was looking… Steve fell in love with the little things about him, the things that most people wouldn’t notice. Everyone else had been wary around Steve when it came to introducing him into the new world, and kept trying to make things easy for him. Tony was the only one that understood that he needed throwing in at the deep end, that he needed it in order to keep busy and to keep his mind away from Bucky and Peggy and The Howling Commandos and everything else about his old life (don't go there, not now notnownotnownotnow).
Tony understood Steve, and Steve understood Tony. They worked together like clockwork, bouncing off each other constantly. Tony was Steve's constant, and he felt sick whenever he even remotely considered Tony not being around anymore.
Steve was in deep trouble with this one.
He heard a slight cough that raised him from his thoughts, and he practically gave himself whiplash as he looked up to see Tony fighting with the tube up his nose, and pulled it out with a stomach-turning pop.
Tony’s eyes rolled as he fought to focus them, but eventually his eyes met Steve’s. The transition in them from confused to content made Steve ridiculously happy.
“How bad is it this time?” Tony mumbled tiredly, smiling weakly.
Steve didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so instead he did a bit of both and leaned forward to Tony, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. He could feel Tony’s breath hitch before he raised a hand to Steve’s hair and kissed back enthusiastically.
Steve pulled away, ignoring Tony’s whines, and put his forehead on Tony’s.
“Later, we’re going to have a serious discussion about your crazy, reckless behaviour,” Steve scolded gently, his fingers ghosting Tony’s fragile skin, “But right now, all I want to do is kiss your stupid face.”
Steve ignored how they needed to have deep discussions very soon about what had happened, and what would happen, and leant in for another kiss with a smiling Tony Stark.