Steve folded his arms to his chest, careful not to wrinkle his suit. "But I've never…" He lightly scoffed, shaking his head, "He knows– or knew, that I've never…been dizzy with a dame. But that's beside the point– I know he likes girls." Of course he does. He's never shown me otherwise, aside from a few rowdy nights and…hm.
"Yeah? Most of the media thinks you and Peggy Carter were a thing, you gonna tell me that's all fake? I'm not saying that I doubt you or the way you feel, I'm just saying that…maybe he thinks that happened too."
"I mean…sure. Maybe I was sweet on her for the time being. I liked her, I'll admit that." Steve shrugged, "But this is…different. He knows it wasn't really serious between us."
"No, Steve, he knew that. Don't forget he's not the same person he was, and his memories aren't all there yet. He might have known that then, but he doesn't now." Tony replied.
"Okay, but still," Steve said, "I know that he's not…y'know. He's not attracted to me, or whatever," He shook his head, the words feeling too foreign on his tongue.
"And how do you know that? Have you asked him?" Tony replied, arching his eyebrows at Steve. "Or are you just assuming?"
"I haven't asked h–" Steve shook his head, lightly scoffing, "And I'm not assuming." Well, maybe I am. "He's never said …or done anything to make me think he was or is."
"Yeah? And have you done anything to make him think that you are?" Tony asked. "Steve, really. You're just assuming that he doesn't care, because of, what? Memories of the 1940's? Where he would have been publicly shunned for any hint of being gay or bi or anything other than hetero?"
"Not in public, Tony," Steve said, talking with his hand gestures, "I know he cares, but before– we were just close. We knew we couldn't do some stuff in public–" He thought of closed curtains and that grainy-sounding record, "–But he doesn't want me that way. And if, miraculously, he did, he probably doesn't feel the same now because of how much HYDRA took from him."
Tony sighed. "You are just determined to wallow in self-pity and singleness and "woe is me, he doesn't like me that way", aren't you?" he shook his head a little, putting his hands on his hips. "You realize that in the truth or dare game, he looked disappointed when you pulled away?"
"I am n–" Steve paused, his expression swiftly changing from annoyed to attentive. Disappointed? "…What?"
"You are." Tony replied, then smirked a little bit. "Mhm. Just for a moment, then he went back to the Resting Bitch Face."
Steve shook his head slightly, smiling at Tony's little smirk, "You're fucking with me, aren't you?"
"Nope. I can see if Sam got a picture, but I don't know if he did." He replied, shrugging his shoulders slightly.
Steve let out a flat laugh, "You can't be serious," He said, "–Even is he did take a photo, there's no way to know what he was actually feeling, or what he was disappointed about."
"See? You're totally all "woe is me he doesn't like me" and you're not even listening when I say you're wrong!" Tony griped.
"Oh, well I'm sorry," Steve said with his blatant sarcasm, "I'm sorry that I'm not totally up to the idea of risking my fragile, fragile friendship with him based off of what you're tellin' me. It's a pipe dream, Tony."
Tony groaned softly. "I'm not saying you have to risk the fucking friendship, Steve!" he replied, tearing a hand through his hair. "Do I wanna see you two happy? Yeah, I do. But I'm not saying to risk that friendship. I'm just saying that you are refusing to consider the fact that you might be wrong."
Steve bit down on his back molars, shaking his head as he stared at the ground, his arms still crossed. "Even if I did consider it," He said, pausing to acknowledge the thought, "Even if it's a miracle, and you're right about him…liking me back, I.." Steve sighed, "I…don't even know what to think about that."
"There's not much thinking required, Steve. This isn't the 40's. If you both like each other, then it's easy." Tony replied. "You can be together, if you want to be."
"I do," Steve answered, almost immediately, "I do– want to be with him, it's just…I don't know if he wants to be with me."
(i gtg soon, sorry)
Tony nodded slightly. "Right. That's why you need to…maybe not outright ask him, but the signs Are there if you look."
"God, I feel like a teenager again." Steve said with a tired laugh, "With all these…hidden feelings and…ugh." He sighed, his mind not even processing the fact that Bucky might've felt the same for years. "But are you sure?" Steve asked with a hopeful frown, "–Cause…I'm his best friend and It just…doesn't seem as obvious to me."
"Yes, Steve, that's why the signs aren't obvious to you." Tony replied, shaking his head slightly. "Because any signs you see you equate as friendship."
"But…" Steve tried, shaking his head in disbelief. Had he really overlooked those signs? The dancing, the affection…"So you're saying– he might feel the same? Like, present tense?"
"He might." Tony replied. "But…please, for my sanity, don't talk about it at this party, not where others can hear. You really, really don't want the tabloids to overhear that sort of conversation between you two."
"Yeah, for sure–" Steve nodded, picturing the flustered explanation tied to that situation, "And, I don't think I could handle…confronting him or whatever right now, my heads not in the right place."
Tony nodded. "Of course." He replied. He gave Steve a quick smile. "Thanks for telling me, though." He said softly.
Steve let out a weak laugh and ran a hand through his hair, "Hm, yeah." He sighed, tiredly tilting his head to the side, "And thanks for…um, listening."
Tony nodded. "Yeah, of course. Let me know if you need to talk or something again. Now, let's get back to the party." he said, taking a step towards the door.