Chapter Text
Agent Coulson walked into the living area of the penthouse at Stark Tower carrying two folders with a classified stamp on them, only to be met with silence and emptiness.
“Mr. Stark? Captain Rogers?” Coulson called.
For a moment there was more silence, then: “Mr. Stark is in the workshop. Captain Rogers is in the gym.” JARVIS didn’t make Coulson jump anymore, but it was still weird to talk to a disembodied voice, especially when you didn’t have an earpiece in. “Mr. Stark said to leave your folders on the bar,” JARVIS continued. Coulson sighed, muttered something about billionaires under his breath, and left the folders on the bar before heading out.
When Steve and Tony came up a couple of hours later, the folders were still there.
“Right, J said the Agent left the goods,” Tony said. He took the folders and the drink he had gone to the bar for in the first place, and headed over to the sofa. “If they don’t do personal handovers they should put names on these things. How is one supposed to know which is whose?”
“There would have been a handover if you had come up here or told me Coulson was here,” Steve said. “And it’s not like there is anything in the files we either don’t know yet or need to hide. Just give one here.”
Tony handed Steve one of the folders as he sat down next to him, then he opened his own. “Oh, this is your folder. Look at that, they are putting you back into business.” Tony grinned as he scanned the Captain America folder in his hands. “In a new suit that will not do you justice. And they don’t want you to tell me or anyone else about it.Which is hilarious, because I’m literally one of like ten people who know that the real Cap is back from the ice, despite what the background SHIELD gave you claims.”
“Fury is paranoid, and he probably means that I'm not supposed to tell you that he wants me back in the field,” Steve said. “And you have narcissistic tendencies, as well as a blatant disregard for the chain of command.”
“Any chance you’re holding the file for Iron Man?” Tony asked, trying to look into the folder. He spotted the picture of the suit. “So does the folder say I have narcissistic tendencies as well as a blatant disregard for the chain of command, or do you?”
“The folder,” Steve said. “But I have to agree with the narcissistic tendencies. About your issues with orders... one just needs to know how to handle you.” Tony hit Steve with a pillow. Steve just laughed.
“So, Fury actually started his initiative,” Tony said. “And he actually expects us to shut up about it?”
“He wants us to keep our identities secret,” Steve said. “For security purposes. You think you can do that, despite your narcissistic tendencies, doll?”
A grin spread across Tony’s face.
“For you? Yes,” Tony said. “For...” he checked the folder. “...Black Widow, the Doc/Hulk, Hawkeye and Thor, you will be just Cap and I’m Iron Man. And for the first time, there might actually be a benefit to the fact that you, Pepper, and Rhodey convinced me to keep my mouth shut.”
“I always told you that not telling the world you're Iron Man was a strategically sound decision," Steve said. "But you complying with Fury feels like a threat.”
“I don’t know what you mean, honey,” Tony said.
“I’m going to regret working with you on this, aren’t I?” Steve asked.
“I will be a good boy,” Tony said, batting his eyelashes at Steve.
“You will absolutely not,” Steve sighed. “You will be a menace to me, to Fury and to the poor people behind those call signs.”
“A menace, me?” Tony asked offended. “I can be good.” He threw the folder on the coffee table and slid closer to Steve, laying his chin on Steve’s shoulder.
“You don’t have an obedient bone in your body, Stark,” Steve said. He didn’t look up from the folder, but his free hand came to rest on Tony's neck with just enough pressure to remind the genius who he was provoking.
“I can be good,” Tony repeated, playing with the zipper of Steve’s jacket.
"Good boys don’t hit their commanders with pillows,” Steve said. “You’re being a brat.”
“What are you going to do?” Tony asked. “Handle me?”
Steve closed the file with a SNAP and threw it on the table.
“If I need to,” he said. His hand slid from Tony’s neck into his hair, tugging slightly. Tony’s breath hitched.
“And how do you plan to do that?” Tony asked.
Steve didn’t give a verbal answer. In one fluid motion, he shifted and grabbed Tony’s waist, pulling the genius with him. By the time Tony had fully registered the shift in gravity, he was lying flat on his back on the sofa, his hands over his head, held by Steve with one hand, while the blond was propped up on the other so as not to crush him.
“Direct physical intervention," Tony gasped.
“You’re lucky I don't put you over my knee,” Steve rumbled. He kissed Tony in a way that left the genius breathless.
“Are you going to behave tomorrow?” Steve asked.
“What if I don’t?” Tony panted.
“If Iron Man has a big mouth tomorrow, I will show you how a disruptive asset is handled when we get back. Tomorrow will be the last meeting during which you will be able to sit for quite some time, doll” Steve said, “with or without the suit."