A gift fic for mrhd for the Cap/Iron Man New Year's Exchange on LiveJournal!

I tried my best with the prompt, but I'm not entirely sure it's everything you wanted. As always, the characters wanted to do other things, and Tony stole the show in the end. He tends to do that.

As a side note, all of the museums listed here are actual New York museums. I've only been to the MOMA, though, so I'm just flying by the seat of my pants when it comes to the others. And there's no smut in here…because I'd rather not have a gift fic be my first attempt at writing something like that.

Thanks to ellex42 for betaing this!

Summary: The 21st century is shiny and new and everything Steve isn't. When he tries to better understand his new world, Tony helps. Or tries to. At least it isn't the porno Clint showed him.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own The Avengers.

The 21st Century for Dummies

The 21st century was very different from his time. Just when he thought he got used to it, something would happen that would tip his world on its side again. The flying Helicarrier was only the first of many times where he thought he'd seen it all, but then continued to be surprised.

Funnily enough, it was usually because of Tony that he was surprised. Tony had this way of rendering even modern technology obsolete in a matter of minutes. He'd taken Steve's S.H.I.E.L.D.-issue phone away and replaced it with a StarkPhone within minutes of seeing him use it. Steve hadn't seen the old one since, though he thought he'd seen Dummy playing with something that looked a lot like it. Truth be told, though, Steve preferred the StarkPhone. It was gaudy and flashy, but it was also easy to use.

In any case, dealing with Tony over a period of several months meant Steve took the approach of just letting it all happen. If Tony came up with a singing, dancing toaster one morning that wowed Thor, Steve simply blinked and made sure the coffee was ready. (That approach didn't work at all when Tony did something to the TV, which ended up stalking all the Avengers and crooning to them in a soft soprano. But even Bruce had been perturbed by that, so Steve didn't feel bad about being freaked out by a singing TV when he was in the gym.) But when it came to Tony, Steve let his antics wash over him. It wasn't even possible to try and understand the man's brilliant, insane mind, so Steve was going to focus on understanding what he could of the 21st century. It wasn't all flash and charm, and he had missed a lot while on ice.

And the best way to begin to understand the strange new present he was in was by understanding what had happened in the past.

The reading room in Tony's mansion was quiet and comfortable. It boasted an eclectic variety of reading material, though it seemed no one ever went in there. Steve occasionally saw Tony sneak out a book, but the reading room was for the most part his own. It was a good place to unwind after a fight or if he'd gotten into another stupid argument with Tony.

Considering the wide range of books available, Steve began his educational reading there. He'd already scoured the fiction section, finding many old favorites and new books that ran to his tastes. Now he was browsing through history books, eventually settling into his favorite squashy armchair for a good educational read.

He decided to start with World War II, just to see how closely the books matched to his recollections of the war. A lot had happened that he hadn't been aware of at the time, like the Manhattan Project, but a lot more had occurred that he was intimately familiar with, like the passing mention of a government-run project that had been geared towards creating better soldiers to win the war.

It was strange reading about himself, but he forced himself to examine the portions of the books that were devoted to Captain America and his eventual crash in the Arctic. Once that was over, he delved into the new material, switching books when it seemed like one didn't have enough information.

Steve had reached the heights of the Cold War when he felt Natasha draw attention to herself by sitting down across from him. She'd probably been in the room for a while, but had chosen not to reveal herself until that moment.

"There is a saying," she said quietly, "that history is written by the victors, Captain."

Steve glanced up, meeting her impassive gaze. "I think I've heard that one before."

Natasha gave a small smile. "You should have." Her eyes flickered down to the book. "What brought this on?"

Steve considered his answer for a moment. "I thought I'd get familiarized with the world. Decided to start with the past first, see what happened before."

Natasha's smile was more of a smirk now. "Don't let Stark hear you say that."

Steve shot her a dry look that she coolly returned. He suspected that she called Tony "Stark" just to rile him up. He'd heard her call him "Tony" when addressing him, but it seemed that old habits die hard, since she still slipped into last names for all of them except Clint.

"I know," he said finally, turning the page. "Why do you think I'm in here?"

"Despite appearances, Stark isn't actually allergic to books that aren't electronic."

"I know," Steve said again, smiling in amusement. "But have you ever seen him come in here when there's already someone here? He'll just get JARVIS to send me elsewhere if he wants to come in here without anyone knowing."

"You're right," Natasha said. "Stark is horrible at subterfuge."

Steve gave her an amused look. "You normally don't come in here either."

"I was curious. And now I see what you're trying to do." Natasha skimmed over the pile of books lying by him with an unimpressed eye. "I'll bring by some books that will show a different view. Americans can be biased."

"Russians aren't?"

"I'm a spy, Captain." Natasha's smile was tight. "Russia is in my past. They are biased," she conceded. "Who isn't? I want to show you a different bias."

Steve was beginning to regret telling Natasha he wanted to better understand the history of the world since his own time. He suspected that it wouldn't help him much when it came to understanding 21st century social norms and technological achievements, but he could be wrong. He'd seen the news clips of a younger, less jaded Tony pointing out that military advancements in technology were what had brought civilian life up to the current standards of luxury.

In any case, it was worth taking a look at whatever Natasha would eventually bring him.

Clint was the next person to get involved in his "get better familiarized with the modern world." He simply flopped down on the couch next to Steve where he was watching an episode of Mythbusters and sat there in companionable silence until the episode finished.

"So, Natasha tells me you're wanting to get better acquainted with our history," Clint finally said, glancing at Steve.

"Yes."

"Been reading books?"

"For the most part."

"Bored yet?"

Steve frowned slightly, unsure as to what Clint was getting at. "It's really interesting."

Clint gave a mock groan. "You're doing it all wrong. You're supposed to say it's so boring you don't know what you're doing. That's when I step in and show you the wonders of movies."

Steve raised an eyebrow, looking between the muted TV and Clint. "Movies?"

"Movies," Clint confirmed. "Books aren't the only way you can learn, Steve. Movies can be just as educational." He grinned excitedly. "So where do you want to start?"

Steve uncertainly cocked his head. "Wherever you want to?"

Clint's grin obtained a mischievous tinge. "Right-o, Captain!" he said cheerfully, bouncing off the couch and to the TV. "JARVIS…" he spoke the rest in a whisper that Steve couldn't make out.

Steve had an ominous sense of foreboding. What had he gotten himself into?

The movie turned into a team thing. And that turned into a weekly appointment once Tony heard how out of date he was when it came to "Hollywood's finest garbage." Clint's first choice had been some sort of porno, that thankfully had been switched to the first of the Mission Impossible movies when Bruce came in. Steve never wanted to go through something like that again.

Sex was still supposed to be private, wasn't it?

Maybe he should ask someone. Or maybe not, since he'd probably be laughed out of the room for being so naïve. Tony would definitely do that, but he'd probably also explain.

But did Steve really want to put himself out there like that? Especially to someone he'd just become friends with?

…Probably not.

When Bruce heard about Steve's mission, he gave him books on scientific advancements in the last century. They went from light reading to difficult, with the thickest being the width of Steve's hand from thumb to pinky.

The books were still sitting in a corner of his room. Steve wasn't sure if he wanted to tackle something like that just yet considering he was still slightly behind on social advancements, only knowing the broad strokes from Fury's briefings.

Besides, they were currently watching Star Wars!

The Museum of Modern Art was the first museum that Steve went to see once he started on his mission. It was the most famous of New York's museums, though Steve intended to check out some of the smaller ones as well. The Museum of Wax also sounded interesting, but he feared it would remind him too much being frozen.

He was wandering through the Ancient Greece section, wondering why this was here when the museum was supposed to be modern, when he stopped in front of a tomb of a married couple. The woman was reclining in the embrace of the man, and both looked very content.

Steve was standing next to a black-haired man in a jacket and jeans who was also reading the plaque set before the tomb.

Just as he finished reading the plaque and was going to move on, the man spoke. "This would be a lot easier if you'd just tell me what your plans are, Cap."

The voice was familiar, but it took Steve a few more seconds to recognize Tony Stark, something he was not proud of. It might have been due to his casual clothes, as Steve was only used to seeing Tony in the Iron Man suit, a formal suit, or grungy clothes meant for the workshop. Still, it was shameful that he couldn't recognize one of his friends right off the bat.

"I know. You didn't recognize me." Tony had a small smirk on his face.

"No—" Steve began to protest.

Tony didn't sound upset, though; if anything, he sounded amused. "It happens; it's why I dress like this." He gestured vaguely. "So…about my question."

"Question?" Steve asked blankly.

Tony very kindly did not look at him like he was an idiot. "Your plans, Cap."

Oh! Now that he knew what Tony was talking about, Steve felt that it was a bit intrusive. "I don't have to tell you everything I do."

"No, you don't. And let's keep it that way." Tony made a face, evidently thinking of something Steve hadn't thought of. "But when it comes to sightseeing," he continued, "you should let me know what you're doing." He waggled his eyebrows. "I know what's what."

Steve barely refrained from shuddering at remembering Clint and the porno. "No, thanks."

"I'm not Clint."

"How did you—?"

"JARVIS sees all," Tony drawled, leaning back on his heels. "And I built JARVIS."

"Right." Steve felt stupid. Again.

"I'm just saying, it'd be easier for me to find you if you told me what you're doing. Otherwise I have to hack into your phone and trace you from there."

"You hacked my phone?" Steve hadn't known that was possible, but he should know by now not to put anything beyond Tony Stark's abilities.

"Easy-peasy," Tony dismissed. "But let's not get sidetracked. Should we continue with the tour? I recommend the fourth floor; that's where it gets interesting."

Tony walked off before Steve could say anything, evidently assuming that Steve would follow. Which he did with a short huff of irritation, but still.

He thought it was ironic that Tony didn't want to get sidetracked when he usually got sidetracked just by talking.

They ended up touring through the actual modern part of the museum. Steve was both appalled and fascinated at the kind of art the modern era was willing to feature in galleries. Blank canvases with just a dot in the middle were considered art?

"It's all about the abstract today," Tony said as they stopped in front of a canvas that had random splashes of paint thrown on it. "Critics go crazy over it."

"What about the public?"

"They break out into fights about what the meaning is of paint splash tilted thirty degrees to the right rather than the left."

Steve stared at him. "What?"

Tony either didn't get his meaning or purposefully chose to misconstrue it. "Crazy, right?"

Giving up on Tony ever fully explaining himself, Steve sighed and returned to reading the plaque. It didn't have any information other than the name of the artist, the birth dates, the title of the piece, and when it was completed.

"Come on." Tony began moving away. "I want to show you Jackson Pollock."

Giving the painting he was standing in front of one last look, Steve followed, wondering which artist had been unfortunate enough to be named after chicken.

Like the movies, the museums became a tradition between Steve and Tony. The second time Steve went, it was to a Jewish museum. He hadn't told Tony he was going, wanting some privacy, but Tony showed up anyway, surprising Steve in the middle of an exhibition about the Holocaust. Surprisingly, Tony had been unusually quiet then, speaking up only occasionally to make an idle comment.

After that, Steve made it a point to offhandedly mention going to see a museum whenever he was around Tony. Most of the time Steve picked one, but Tony occasionally kidnapped him unexpectedly to visit must-see museums. One of those was Madame Tussauds, which Steve found strangely disturbing the moment he entered.

"Why do you think people come to see this?" Tony had asked when he saw Steve's expression the first time they were met with an extremely realistic wax figure of Tony Stark. "I personally think it lacks my endearingly adorable charm."

Steve couldn't comment, but he thought he felt the eyes of the wax figure of Tony follow him as he left the room as fast as possible. It was stupid, but he couldn't help it. It was even worse when he saw himself.

Well, himself as Captain America, but he was Captain America so technicalities were pointless.

"Shouldn't they have asked my permission or something?" Steve asked, staring in morbid fascination at the replica of himself saluting, mock shield on his arm.

"They asked Howard, since he was in charge of the expeditions." Tony's voice was quiet. "He never actually agreed, but didn't say anything against it."

"I thought lack of consent didn't imply consent."

"It's assent. If he hated it, he would have sued them." Tony paused, eyes going over the wax figure. "It's good, but it doesn't match up with the real deal."

There was nothing Steve could say to that without sounding like a complete idiot. When he said he wanted to leave, Tony followed him without protest. It might also have had something to do with the wax figures of the entire team of Avengers they ran into on the way out.

"We should go out," Tony said one day when Steve was painting the skyline from memory in the living room.

Steve glanced up. "Aren't we already?"

"To eat. You're missing something if you don't experience the wonders of New York cuisine."

Steve considered it. Tony had a point, but eating with just Tony seemed too much like a date. He was already getting jibes from Clint because of all the times he'd been out with Tony.

"If you're worried about your public image," Tony said, "they already think we're dating. Taking a stroll in the park might have been a bit much."

Steve dropped his hand from the canvas, too shocked to continue. "What?"

"It's not like we had a good run while it lasted," Tony continued. "But I can only go out in public so many times before someone recognizes me, ugly sweater and sweatpants included."

"The sweater wasn't ugly," was the only thing Steve could think of saying.

"See, you're the only one who thinks that, and it's sweet, but it doesn't change the fact that it's hideously ugly."

"Why were you even wearing it then?"

"Dummy ordered it," Tony replied, shrugging. "He pushed it on me; I couldn't take it off without hurting his feelings. And when Dummy's feelings are hurt you don't want to be around him. Things happen."

Steve thought that it didn't explain why Tony hadn't brought something else to wear once away from Dummy. Really, it just proved that he was a big softie.

"So." Tony looked expectantly at Steve. "Are we going?"

Steve looked back down at his painting so he didn't have to look at his friend. "I don't really feel like going out to eat." Then, before Tony could close down and retreat, he added, "Can we go to the Brooklyn Museum?"

There was a flash of something on Tony's face, but it disappeared before Steve could identify it. "Sure. Eating out too intimate for your old-time sensibilities?"

"It's not that." Bucky and he had eaten out together all the time. But for some reason that didn't include the press, this felt different. "I'd just rather go see a museum than sit and eat somewhere awkwardly."

Tony smirked. "Cap, when you're with me, there's no such thing as 'awkward.' "

"This is awkward," Steve said hours later as they stood in front of a Captain America exhibition with Howard Stark's photos plastered all over the it.

"No, it's not awkward." Tony had both hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie, looking like he'd rather be anywhere than here, staring at photos of his father during his involvement in the super soldier project. "What are you talking about? There's no level of awkwardness here at all. We're just two friends who happened on a museum exhibit of one friend's past and the other's father. What's there to be awkward about?"

"You're rambling," Steve pointed out. "That means you're uncomfortable."

"I am not rambling. I'm talking. There's a difference."

"There is, but you're repeating yourself." Steve glanced at Tony. "Which means you're rambling."

"I have no reason to be uncomfortable," Tony declared, pulling a hand out to gesture at the exhibit. "I've known about his involvement in the project for years. Besides, this is just the tip of the iceberg. They don't have any of the highly classified information here. Though they do include that tidbit about mini-you jumping on a false grenade when everyone else scrammed."

Steve couldn't help but flush slightly in embarrassment. Still, he ignored the distraction. "Feelings don't need a reason. If you're uncomfortable, you're uncomfortable. We don't have to be here." He felt silly and uncomfortable himself standing outside of a room that was essentially a shrine to Captain America, and by extension the Steve Rogers he had been before.

"Don't be ridiculous, Cap." Tony rolled his eyes and strolled into the room, sticking to the right side. "It's your history. Don't you want to see what they're saying about you?"

Steve spent a moment or two breathing calmly and deeply, trying not to be irritated by how Tony had to ruin the moment by immediately calling him "Cap." Like he didn't have a name. Like Tony wasn't the only one who had yet to call Steve by his actual name, instead going with ridiculous nicknames that only served to remind him out of place he was in the twenty-first century and that to the rest of the world, he was only Captain America.

Besides, Tony was apparently ignoring the fact that while Tony was uncomfortable seeing pictures of his estranged father, Steve was uncomfortable looking at a room devoted to himself. It reminded him that he was a national icon, an icon that had been frozen for seventy years. It reminded him that he had lost everyone he ever cared about; it didn't matter that he had new friends to take care of; he missed his old friends. He'd been torn out of his world by a quirk of fate, and now he had to deal with this strange new century.

This self-imposed mission was intended to help him adjust. But it wouldn't help to stare at his own history, bringing back painful memories that shouldn't be brought up in an impersonal museum where anyone could see him.

With another exhale, Steve turned on his heel and left, regretting ever having thought that Tony Stark would be the right person to bring to the Brooklyn Museum.

He stepped out of the museum to inhale the cold air, stopping for a moment to consider what he should do next. All plans went flying out the window when he felt Tony's presence at his elbow.

"What do you want, Tony?" he asked wearily, not looking back.

There was a brief pause before the response came, hesitant, "We could go take a walk?"

Steve's breath left him in a gust of laughter.

Of course. Tony Stark wouldn't just apologize. That was beneath him.

"Sure," Steve said, smiling tiredly at an apprehensive looking Tony. "Why not?"

Steve could think of a dozen good reasons "Why not?", but none of them came up as they walked through Brooklyn Bridge Park. At least until they made it to the bridge and stopped, looking out over the water as other people passed them by.

"I'm an asshole," Tony said suddenly, causing Steve to look at him in confusion. "Sure, people say that, but I really am one. I'm an insensitive jerk who talks too much."

Steve sighed, turning around to lean back against the railing, hands in his jacket to keep them warm. "I wouldn't say you're an asshole, Tony. Maybe unthinking and brash, but not an asshole. You just act that way."

Tony smirked. "You just swore. Captain America just swore."

Steve rolled his eyes. "I was in the army, Tony. Sure, it was the forties, but people swore back then. It wasn't all gosh, golly, gee."

Tony laughed, the sound rich and low. "You're priceless, Cap."

"That bothers me," Steve said, not looking at him. "You've never used my name. You use everyone else's names. Why not mine? Is it so hard?"

There was a long silence filled with the sound of the wind and water. Other people chattered, but Tony said nothing.

Thinking with bitter disappointment that Tony would never say anything, Steve made to get off the railing.

"It's easier," Tony finally said, startling Steve into stillness. "Nicknames and jokes… People can't really see past them, so it's fine. You're called a jerk and an ass, but you can leave without any hard feelings."

Steve disagreed, but he kept quiet, not wanting to interrupt Tony.

"And you're my friend, Steve," Tony said, smiling gently as he finally, finally used Steve's name. "Friends can be dangerous."

Steve swallowed dryly, remembering a train racing through snowy mountains and Bucky. "I know. But that's what makes it all worthwhile."

Tony laughed quietly. "Right."

Steve glanced at him, confused. Something wasn't adding up. "Aren't you and Pepper together?"

Tony shot him a startled look. "Cap…Steve…we haven't been together in months." His smile was regretful with a tinge of bitterness. "She couldn't handle me putting myself in danger while she did nothing." He shrugged as if it was no big deal. "It's no problem, though. We're still friends."

"I'm sorry." It felt so inadequate, but Steve had nothing else he could say.

In typical Tony style, he brushed the platitude off. "Nah." He then cocked his head to the side. "If you still thought we were together, why didn't you freak out at the idea that I was cheating on her with you?" he asked curiously.

Steve frowned, glancing around for any paparazzi, but seeing nothing. "Because you weren't. What they say isn't true at all, so I don't really care about it."

"You don't care about your rep?"

"My…my what?"

"Your rep. Reputation. It doesn't bother you that they're showing you as a gay guy who's fucking the national playboy? Or that you're defiling thousands of youths who now believe it's okay to be gay because Captain America is?"

Steve gaped at him, astonished. He was barely able to scramble two words together before Tony pushed on.

"That's what you're facing for being seen with me in public. It doesn't matter whether it's true or not, the public thinks it is."

This time Steve managed to quickly blurt out, "It doesn't matter." It made Tony pause long enough for him to be able to add, "I've never cared what others think of me. Everyone who does matter knows the truth; if I worried about what the public thought of me, I'd never get anything done."

Tony studied him for a long moment, face serious. "And what if it did matter?" he asked quietly.

Steve pursed his lips slightly. "It doesn't."

"And if I wanted it to?" Tony slid up to him, encroaching into his personal space, voice pitched low. "If I wanted it to be true? What then, Steve? Would it matter?"

Steve stared wide-eyed at Tony, scarcely breathing. He…couldn't be saying what Steve thought he was, was he?

Neither of them said for long moments.

Steve watched, petrified, as Tony's face slowly shut down, and he backed away, stepping up to the railing next to Steve.

"I see," Tony murmured, rocking back slightly on his heels. He shot Steve a false smile. "I'll see you later, Cap."

They were back to nicknames now?

Steve floundered for something – anything – to say. But nothing came to mind other than useless platitudes, because his mind was still stuck on the fact that Tony Stark was interested in him.

Not liking it but not knowing what else to do, Steve slowly walked away, shoulders hunched. He half-expected Tony to call after him, but heard nothing.

Unable to stand it, he chanced a glance over his shoulder, only to see Tony still facing the water, his back to Steve. He stood ramrod straight, and Steve was sure he'd see a frighteningly impassive expression on his face.

Guilty and uncertain, Steve turned away, keeping his head down. He had a feeling he'd just made a terrible mistake.

Steve had never been particularly concerned about his sexuality. When he had grown up, it had been assumed that you were straight. If you weren't, you were assumed to be perverted or mentally ill.

Despite that, Steve had never really thought about people in terms of gender. As an artist, he'd always appreciated beauty regardless of the form it took. Appreciating beauty didn't necessarily lead to liking or loving people personally, so although Steve had to deal with the taunts that came with being small, skinny, loudmouthed, and an artist, he didn't worry about getting in trouble for the potential of liking other guys more than he should. That changed when he got the serum because no one wanted to pick on a guy over six feet tall who could bench press your weight and more. When his body changed, so did the perceptions of the people who saw him drawing: he wasn't pathetic, he was empathetic.

Regardless, Steve himself had never really changed. Despite the changes in his body, he remained the same person inside: stubborn, idealistic, brave, kind, and "so virtuous that Saint Peter would be singing your praises," according to one Tony Stark.

So while Steve had never given much thought to his sexuality when he was fighting to get into the army, fighting in World War II, battling the Red Skull, and putting the plane in the water, he'd put quite a bit of thought into it after waking in the twenty-first century.

Or rather, after he'd fought Loki and gotten better acquainted with Tony.

Steve had been given a thorough briefing regarding the gay rights movement and the whole LGBTQ community. It was something he had known very little about during his own time and something he was glad to see now. It also gave him a whole new variety of options to investigate when it came to discerning one's sexuality.

Despite the numerous labels society had come up with to stamp on people, Steve didn't think he fit into any one box. His past experience with Peggy proved that he was at the very least straight, but the way he felt about Tony was definitely different than friendship. He didn't know what it was, but he felt comfortable around the other man, even though Tony tended to rub almost everyone the wrong way. So far the only other Avenger who was close to Tony was Bruce, and that was because he was also a genius. There was also a warm fuzzy feeling that nested in Steve's chest whenever Tony gave him a real smile, not that fake one for the press. He hated it when Tony called him "Cap," "Capsicle," "Mon Capitan," or any other nickname he'd come up with that particular day. He wondered what his name would sound like coming off of Tony's tongue.

Yes, it was safe to say that Steve wasn't entirely straight. But he also wasn't gay. Put simply, he just didn't care about the package. It was all about the person. He could have loved Bucky if it had been the right time to do so; he had loved him, but it had been a platonic brotherly love, not the romantic love that would have sparked between him and Peggy.

Thus, while Steve wasn't suffering some crisis of sexuality, he was confused about Tony. Judging from reports and decades of tabloid articles, Tony was straight. There wasn't even an inkling that he liked guys.

Then there was the way that Steve was never sure what Tony was thinking at any given moment. It was difficult keeping up with him, and half the time he didn't even know if Tony was making fun of him or genuinely wanted to help him out.

And although Steve didn't care about the fact that Tony might want something more with him, he did care about the hot and cold vibes the other was sending his way.

What was the use of starting a relationship with someone who wasn't even sure what he wanted?

It was early the next morning when Steve was joined by Bruce in the reading room. He didn't look up from his book until Bruce set something down in front of him and took the chair opposite him. A glossy tabloid magazine was pushed in front of Steve, headlines proclaiming, "Trouble in Avenger's Paradise?" The main photo was that of Steve walking away from Tony on the bridge, the faces not visible but their body language completely clear.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Bruce asked softly.

Steve tightened his lips, shaking his head once. He kept his eyes down.

"We thought you guys were dating," Bruce said, shocking Steve so much that his eyes flew up to stare at him.

"We weren't!"

"I know that now," Bruce patiently responded.

Steve looked at him helplessly. "Did you know that he'd broken up with Pepper?"

Bruce inclined his head slightly. "He didn't broadcast it for the entire team to know, if that's what you mean," he said. "I only found out immediately because he told me. Natasha and Clint found out because that's their job. Thor somehow figured it out without anyone telling him."

"He didn't tell me anything." Steve hoped that didn't sound as whiny as he felt.

Bruce sighed, rubbing his hands together nervously. "He probably didn't want you to think badly of him," he eventually said.

"I wouldn't," Steve protested.

Bruce smiled slightly. "Feelings aren't logical."

Now it was Steve's turn to smile, albeit bitterly. "I told him that, you know."

Bruce chuckled. "A wise woman told me that once." His smile was wistful. "I've since taken it to heart."

Bruce never talked about the people he had left behind after his accident. Steve had the vague impression that he had had a girlfriend at one point, but the army hunting him down had snuffed out the relationship.

"Should you be telling me this?" Steve said instead. "You shouldn't give away anything he's told you in confidence."

"I'm not," Bruce said. "I'm giving you some advice and perspective as a genius and Tony's friend."

Steve studied Bruce for a moment, conflicted. Like it or not, he desperately needed some advice as to what he should do.

"We went out yesterday," Steve began, closing his book. "We were in the park when he told me that he wanted…wanted more." He glanced down before forcing himself to meet Bruce's eyes. "I thought he was into dames – I mean, women."

Bruce didn't comment on Tony's confession. "To be honest, I don't think it matters to him. If he likes someone, he'll try it, even if it's outside societal norms." He looked right at Steve. "What about you?"

After all his internal deliberations, Steve had an answer for this. "It's about the person for me. I looked more at gals before, but that was because anything else was…not wrong, but looked at it like it was. Now it doesn't really seem to matter." He shrugged. "But I…I'm not sure what to do. Tony…he waxes hot and cold, you know? It's difficult to tell what he's thinking."

Bruce interlinked his fingers, a thoughtful expression flashing over his face. "It's difficult to explain," he started slowly, eyes fixed on a point over Steve's shoulder. "Our minds…they work differently from others'. We think too fast and too much. I'm a bit more organized than Tony, but not by much. Even I…" He took a breath. "We over think things. We analyze every situation and examine all the variables. Tony more so because he's a genius with math. And sometimes – sometimes we won't do something because of the risks involved. Or we will, and it'll blow up in an accident that leaves you with the other guy or an arc reactor.

"My point, Steve, is that you really shouldn't take anything Tony says to heart. We say and do things to push people away; it's easier in the long run because most people don't understand us."

"Don't we?" Steve couldn't help but ask.

Bruce gave him a pitying smile. "When one of us is down and sick with something or injured, what do you do? You put us to bed or in a hospital and refuse to let us do anything that we want. We…our minds need engagement, Steve. Lying around and doing nothing drives us crazy. You've seen how Tony gets after two days of nothing but bed rest. You could take care of that if you gave him a tablet to work on."

Steve remembered how one time Bruce had snuck a hospital ridden and increasingly restless Tony a tablet on the third day, somehow getting by both Natasha and Clint. The tablet had been confiscated by a doctor, but had reappeared an hour later, with Bruce's continuous presence thereafter preventing its removal.

"Pepper's always—"

"No offense to her, but she doesn't quite understand." Bruce smiled wryly. "She takes care of Tony in the way he needs, but she also doesn't understand that doing nothing is no healthier for Tony than subsisting solely on caffeine and cat naps is."

Then, sighing, Bruce leaned forward. "But this isn't just about Tony. What about you, Steve?"

Steve pressed his lips together, ducking his head down to study the cover of his book. "I don't know," he finally said.

"You do have some time," Bruce said, shifting to stand up. He rested a hand on Steve's shoulder. "He likes you, Steve. He's opened up in a way he usually doesn't."

Steve couldn't stop himself from saying, "He does to you."

"Because I understand. He's my confidante, too." Bruce dropped his hand, smiling as Steve met his eyes. "Just think about this: why do you think Tony went to you after his breakup with Pepper?"

Before Steve could ask Bruce what he meant, he had vacated the reading room, leaving Steve behind in more than one way.

Thor found Steve in the gym venting his frustrations on the extremely sturdy and indestructible punching bag provided by Tony. The god stood there for several long minutes, simply observing Steve pounding away at the bag.

After Steve dealt a punishing right hook, he stopped the bag in its tracks with his left hand, turning to Thor. "Do you need something?" he asked, slightly breathless.

"Nay," Thor answered, shaking his head. "I was seeking a partner to spar with. Would you be willing?"

Steve nodded, unwrapping the tape on his knuckles. "Sure."

Twenty minutes later both men were sweaty, breathless, and sore. Thor had a slightly manic and bloody grin, while Steve iced a black eye that would disappear in about an hour. Despite the aches and pains – or rather because of them – Steve was feeling much better.

"You seem troubled, Steven," Thor commented, rubbing at his mouth with a formerly pristine towel.

Steve sighed, tilting his head back so the icy water wouldn't drip down. "Is it that obvious?"

Thor smiled gently, the sight rather grisly with the smeared blood over his lips and chin. "Not to one who is not looking, Steven. Yet your heart is heavy, and you have something on your mind. If I may, I would offer my help."

Steve smiled back. "Thanks, but I don't think this is something you can help with."

"It is Anthony, is it not?" Thor guessed wisely.

Steve decided not to ask how Thor knew that. "Yeah."

"What is the problem? You are dear friends – shield brothers. Have you thought of discussing it with him?"

Steve grinned self-deprecatingly. "That's what caused the problem."

"It will also solve it," Thor insisted. "Steven, often I wish that I had spoken to Loki before his madness struck. Many would insist that it is too late, but reparations can always be made. Do not tarry, less it become too late. You and Anthony share a deep bond, one that traverses beyond the borders of Yggdrasil."

Shocked, Steve blinked, only to regret it when a trickle of cold water ran into his eye. He took off the ice bag, rubbing his eye with the back of his hand.

"I'll talk with him," Steve said finally, looking up at Thor.

Thor beamed broadly for a moment before the expression turned soft and gentle. "He loves you," Thor told him, reaching out to firmly clasp Steve's shoulder. "Go to him, Steven." He smiled mischievously. "I shall still be here if all else fails."

Floundering, Steve managed to retreat with most of his dignity intact.

Didn't Thor have a girlfriend?

Clint and Natasha didn't talk to Steve, but that was only because he got out of their way before they could. He saw them glancing his way with considering looks and left to find Tony before Clint could put any ridiculous plans in motion.

Yes, Steve still hadn't forgiven Clint for the porno. So sue him; he wasn't perfect.

Tony was in his workshop, which Steve entered after inputting his access code. Thankfully it hadn't been retracted yet, though if it wasn't retracted now, it never would be.

Tony didn't look up from his work, a jumble of wires and what looked like a microwave. Steve dreaded to think what might come of it. "Cap."

Steve refrained from sighing. "Tony. I wanted… Can we talk?"

"I think we've already said all we needed to, don't you?"

Irritated now, Steve burst out, "Geez, Tony, you can't just drop a bomb like that on me and expect me to know what to say! I needed some time!"

Tony stopped what he was doing, looking up at Steve. "So you can turn me down gently with a clichéd spiel about how we can still be friends? I know how this works, Cap; there's no need to soften the blow."

"No." Steve's reply was so vehement Tony blinked in surprise. "Look, I needed some time. I didn't know you liked guys that way, so I didn't know what to say."

"What part of me seems remotely straight to you?"

"The gals you keep going out with?"

"I haven't pulled anyone like that since before Pepper," Tony pointed out, twirling a tool between his fingers. "Try again."

"I don't know!" Steve put up his hands in frustration. "This is still new to me. I didn't even know that you and Pepper had broken up because you didn't tell me."

Tony twirled the tool for a few more seconds before saying, "I didn't want you to know."

"I wouldn't think badly of you," Steve said quietly. "Breakups happen; it doesn't mean you're a failure at relationships."

"It was the only long term relationship I ever attempted, and it blew up in my face," Tony said. "No, I'm not a failure. But you didn't want to harp on me about Pepper. So talk."

Steve tightened his lips, taking several calming breaths through his nose. "I'm not gay," he said. "But I'm not straight either. I care about the person. And, Tony, I care about you."

"As a friend."

"You're my best friend. What else do you think? But best friends can be more. I'd like to try it with you." Steve swallowed silently, meeting Tony's eyes. "I like you, Tony. You're smart, funny, brave, selfless, stupid—"

"You're contradicting yourself there."

"—arrogant, crass. You're a walking oxymoron." Steve couldn't help but grin. "And yet I want to try it. I'm sorry about before, but I was scared. You're unbelievable, Tony; I didn't think I could manage it."

Tony's face didn't reveal anything. "What changed?"

"I realized I'm already managing it. I was being an idiot; everyone could see it but me."

Tony studied him silently for a long moment. Finally, he put down his tool and stepped around the table to approach Steve. "You'll forgive me," he murmured, reaching up, "if I'm misreading this."

Before Steve could react, calloused fingers were tangling in the hairs at his nape and Tony was pulling him down into a soft, chaste kiss.

It was dry, but warm. That was all Steve could register before Tony pulled away.

His eyes flickered up and away. "Well, that wasn't—"

Steve shut him up by catching his mouth again, this time nipping at his lower lip. His hands came to cradle Tony's neck, angling his head so as to make the kiss deeper. Tony's mouth opened on a small gasp, and Steve took the initiative to coax his tongue into the proceedings.

It was a long minute before they drew apart, slightly flushed and lips reddened. Steve couldn't help but rub a thumb over Tony's lower lip, fascinated with the way Tony sharply inhaled at the motion.

"If you don't quit that," Tony said lowly, eyes wide and black, "you're going to find out just what kind of standards the twenty-first century has when it comes to sex."

Steve quirked his lips in a smile. "I think I'll be fine." He dipped his head down for another kiss, pressing Tony back against the table.

Really, he thought, the 21st century wasn't so difficult to understand. Tony Stark needed a whole different manual just to begin to understand him, but Steve figured that he had a handle on the new century.

But he'd still keep that The 21st Century for Dummies book Clint had given him, just for kicks.

How'd you guys like it? Not as sappy as the last story, but still kind of up there. And, just putting it out there, Thor's closing line during his scene was the best part of this fic for me. Hands down.

As for part seven of the It's All in the Mind series...I'm doing it, okay? IT HATES ME AT THE MOMENT. But it'll happen. Sometime. In-between schoolwork and other rampant plot bunnies. Like switching MCU!Tony to Earth 3490, where he has to deal with being a woman. (I should be institutionalized.)

The prompt was: Steve adjusting to the 21st century.

Stats: Word Count: 7,258; Pages: 19