Soon after all of them had moved into the Avengers Tower, Tony Stark had taken it upon himself to take out the huge stick that seemed to live in Steve Rogers' butt.

Not literally. Mind you, Steve's butt was a thing out of pure poetry, but Tony wouldn't go as far as trying to actually check to see if there was a stick there, because they didn't really have that kind of intimacy yet.

Not that he didn't think about it, what with Pepper breaking up with him after the thing with SHIELD and the others moving in, and him having to be Iron Man more than he needed to be Tony and-

Anyway. The metaphorical stick up Steve's butt.

Tony wanted to take it out.

The man needed to learn to have some fun – he clearly had a sense of humor, Natasha liked him well enough, Bruce got along well with him, Thor saw him as a comrade in arms, and Clint… well, Clint kind of had the same kind of opinion Tony had about him.

He was a good guy, an amazing leader, but, damn, he needed to learn to loosen up a little.

So Tony decided to be a nice guy and help him face who he was, and who he could be, and how every one of his now roommates were in the same boat as he – that is: far away enough from the "normal" population that they couldn't just be another face in the crowd, but having enough in common with each other that they could actually, one day, if the weather and Fury would allow it, be friends.

If he would stop being a giant pain in the ass (seriously, maybe Tony was a bit obsessed with Steve and butts and asses all around, but he wasn't going down that road, because he was already well on his way into madness, he didn't need to become the Mayor of CrazyPantsVille), and have some fun, he'd be happier.

It was simple logic: you stop blaming yourself for things that aren't your fault, you stop trying to pretend you're not a huge icon and savior and leader, and BAM! You can be happy.

Or something like it.

Maybe Tony should make some charts and explain his plan, but he didn't have the right frame of mind for it, and if the others didn't understand his plan then shame on them, he was the freaking owner of the tower he could play whatever song he wanted to, and what he wanted to play was Star Spangled Man with a Plan.

Every

Freaking

Time

Steve walked into a room, the song started playing.

At first, he looked so freaking mad Tony thought he'd gone too far, but little by little he started to see it for the joke it was, for the metaphor Tony was trying to draw there – it also helped that the song only ever played when Steve was all by himself or only Tony was in the room.

He wouldn't be mean and play it with the others around, who do you think he is, some Hydra inconsiderate goon?

He was Tony Stark. He could do good guy from time to time (even though he was kind of sure Pepper would hit him over the head with something heavy if she ever found out about his plan, but oh well).

Anyway. The thing is, the plan worked. Steve stopped looking mad to start looking resigned, and day by day, the song would play, and he would accept it, until one day he started smiling at it, probably remembering the good old days, not having the pain and the guilt and all those sad, grey feelings he probably felt at first.

The song did its job, he loosened up a little, and so Tony stopped having Jarvis play it all the time, and Steve was a little easier to live with even without hearing about him being as smart as fox three to six times a day.

So, a few months later, when they are already living together in the freaking tower for so long that they actually dare to call it home, Steve fucks up in a mission.

It didn't happen often – actually, it had never happened before – but he takes it really badly.

He sits on one of the kitchen chairs staring down, as if the world is about to end, and Natasha stares at Tony, as if he can fix it; and Bruce tries to tell the Captain that it happens, he had no way of knowing that if the Hulk smashed that wall it'd be booby-trapped and send Natasha flying – she only ever broke one of her nails anyway, and Bruce is perfectly fine now, even though he had to come back home with no pants on.

It happened.

A lot.

Tony's next plan involved stretchy pants, all the stretchy pants, even if Bruce would have to live in leggings, he didn't care.

Anyway. The mission.

Tony had taken Hawkeye out of the way of the explosion fast enough that he wasn't hurt, and, really, the suit had protected him just fine, and pretty much nothing hurt Thor all that much, so couldn't Steve please, please see they were all fine and happy, and let it go?

No. Of course he couldn't.

So when Bruce gave up, and turned to stare at Tony too – as if he had the magic cure for Captain Angst, Tony did the one thing he could think of that had actually worked.

He started to sing.

After the first line, Steve had turned to stare at him, eyes huge and disbelieving as Tony waited for the second line to come, and by the time the third was being sung Clint had joined him, followed by Bruce and finally Natasha, who sang with a small smirk on her lips, as Thor looked on with some incredulity, having no idea of what was going on in the kitchen.

Bu the time they were praising his ability to give his all for America, Steve had dropped his head on the table, shoulders shaking with laughter, and when the other Avengers were praising his ability to finish what they began, he raised his head, tears of laughter in his eyes as he shook his head at them, and shouted the last Star Spangled Man with a Plan right along with the others.

He looked at Tony and nodded briefly, and Tony felt somewhat accomplished – sure, they had all just made fools of themselves, but their praised leader now knew – he had to know – that he had fucked up, they knew that, but they were also his team, and they wouldn't leave him because of it.

They trusted him.

They were his freaking team, his family.

And it was enough.