Chapter Text
The late July evening was hot, the setting sun casting a pinkish hue over the tower as Tony dipped back inside from the terrace to grab the steaks from where they were on the counter to his and Steve's kitchen. Steve tilted his head appreciatively as Tony walked through the door, enjoying the view.
"Stop staring at my son's ass, you heathen."
Steve blushed, chuckling at himself for being so blatantly caught. "I'd apologize but-"
"You're not sorry."
Laughing, Steve took a swig of his beer. The heat radiating off the warming grill warped the air above it. There was corn wrapped in foil already cooking, and a salad that Tony had spent two hours trying to meticulously chop sat in the middle of the table. A late dinner after a mission in Jersey. They were tired, but the summer air was rejuvenating. With Howard as their new ground control, and manning a command center in the tower, it meant things went smoother than any other had in previous years. "No, I'm definitely not sorry," he admitted, eyes still on the door Tony had disappeared through.
"You should be protecting my precious child's virtue." Howard tried, but he could barely keep a straight face. It cracked into a grin, and he coughed to cover it up.
Steve hid his behind his beer. "This has been discussed at length, Tony hasn't had virtue in at least 30 years."
"And your virtue?" Howard teased, refilling his own glass with a can of Pepsi. "Whatever happened to that?"
"That ship sailed a long time ago."
"So, I've heard," Howard said conspiratorially. "Not that I don't absolutely adore talking about my kid's sex life," He made a face, "let's move on. What museum is next on our list?"
"Natural History. Tomorrow at 2 work?" The door opened, and Steve watched as Tony came out, balancing a tray of steaks in one hand and two more beers for him and Steve in the other. Steve stood; he’d let Tony make the salad -- it was hard to mess up chopping vegetables -- but there was no way he was letting Tony anywhere near the grill. "Hill got those books too. She's going to drop them off on Friday."
"I've never been so excited to read about a wall falling before." Pushing his chair out, Howard walked with Steve toward the grill. "Need any help?"
"Can you take the corn back to the table and keep Tony from getting his grubby hands on them before the meat's done?"
"No promises." Howard held out the tray for the corn and waited as Steve stacked them on it. "Anything else?"
"Butter and salt from the kitchen. But tell Tony to get it because I don't trust him with the corn." Pausing, Steve tilted his head toward Tony. "He grew up with the finer things in life, and yet corn on the cob excites him almost as much as a cheeseburger."
"What can I say?" Howard grinned, hefting the tray and heading back to the table, "My kid's got great taste. Just look at his boyfriend."
"He only likes me because I can reach the top shelf!" Steve called out, blatantly yelling so Tony could hear him.
"Hey! Go fuck yourself!" But Tony was laughing, hand reaching for the tray before Howard angled himself away.
"No! Steve warned me about you! Go get the butter and salt… If you can reach it!"
Tony threw a napkin at him. "You're not much taller than me, father. They say the apple doesn't fall far, well I didn't have far to go at all!"
"Children!" Steve jokingly chided, amused that this was his life now. Father and son they may be, but the closeness in age and the unique circumstances of their meeting meant they bickered more like two brothers. The relationship between Steve and Howard was also much different. Tony had fallen asleep, head in Steve's lap, more than once in the previous four months when the two ended up staying up late talking about the war, and the Howling Commandos, and Peggy, and everything they had missed. Howard filled Steve in on details of the sixteen years Howard had experienced without him. Things textbooks and the History Channel documentaries couldn't know. There was a quiet peace between them, underscored by their humor and goofiness when an abandoned prank war started again between the two.
It was awkward the first few weeks as they all learned to live with each other when Howard took over and redecorated Steve's little efficiency apartment. Meanwhile, Steve moved in with Tony, and Howard spent most of his time in their suite. There were hiccups, dark moments where Howard would find a picture of Maria or learn about how something ended that he had started. Steve had found him near tears several times, photo albums open in his lap and his hands in his hair, lamenting everything he’d missed.
But there were good moments as well, and they were beginning to outweigh all of the bad. Howard learning about new technology and loving it. He and Tony making messes of their workshops as they went on inventing binges. The first time Howard went out in public and the response was surprisingly positive.
Saving Iron Man went a long way to garnering the respect from the general population.
There were issues. The government demanding the spell book. People harassing Howard, not believing he was who he said he was. Steve knew there were more instances like those in the future, but for that moment? They were good.
It was tough to navigate sometimes, tough to reconcile everything that had happened. But then Steve would see Tony and Howard on the couch, locked in a furious chess match or arguing over a book they had read. Making silly jabs at each other, and throwing pillows.
It was somehow so innocent to witness.
After years of feeling like he wasn't good enough, Tony was given the approval from the real Howard, and it worked wonders on his insecurity.
Enough so that Steve felt confident in taking the next step, that Tony would be secure enough to move with him. That he would say yes, and Steve could finally -- finally -- grow old with the person he loved.
The small box in Steve's pocket was testament to that.
"Steven!"
Steve blinked and looked at Howard, a slight flush creeping up his neck at being caught with his mind wandering. "Howard?"
"Control your boyfriend, he's being a brat."
Focusing on what was in front of him, Steve barked out a laugh. There was lettuce in Howard's hair. "He's your son. You know as well as I do that there's no controlling him."
Tony smirked, self-satisfied, and walked to the door. "Excuse me, I have to go get the butter and salt." A well aimed tomato hit the back of his head.
"Hey! No throwing fruit!"
"No throwing vegetables!"
"Tony!" Steve chuckled, rubbing a hand down his face, far too entertained. "If you want to eat sometime this year, go!"
"I'm going! I'm going! Jeez, you're worse than Fury sometimes!"
As soon as he was out of earshot, Steve left the steaks to cook and walked over to pluck the lettuce from Howard's hair. "Having trouble with the salad, Howard?"
"I thought the salad tossing was supposed to be left to you two!" Bending over slightly, Howard shook his hands through his hair like a wild dog, sending bits of carrots and celery everywhere.
"Rude." Steve tossed the piece of lettuce he had retrieved from Howard's hair back at him. The jokes didn't bother him; he knew that Howard supported their relationship. Crude and juvenile humor was just how he showed he cared.
"Am not," Howard muttered, scrunching his nose. "Maybe a little."
"I need to ask you something," Steve began, taking the plunge. "Tony isn't traditional, and I know it's considered out of date these days, but I'm a relic, and I'm proud."
"Yeah? What's that?" Sitting, Howard swept some of the discarded salad from the table onto the floor.
Steve smiled, his happiness bursting through. He pulled a small, black box from his pocket and opened it, showing Howard. A simple, gold ring with little diamonds embedded around the band sat inside. Howard's eyes went wide, his hands freezing as they cleaned the table.
Steve grinned at his reaction. "I'd like to ask your permission to marry your son."
The end.