Tony doesn’t know him.
He’s… 90% sure.
Then the guy reaches up, slides a pencil into place behind his ear and takes out some charcoal, and Tony just starts fucking smiling, because of course he would-
Okay, maybe 70% sure.
He tries to concentrate on his coffee- it’s good coffee, really, and any other time he’d be swooning over it, barely able to look at anything else, but he can’t stop glancing over him.
It’s not even that he’s cute- which he is, he’s fucking gorgeous, with ruffled blonde hair and clear, chlorine eyes.
It’s not that, it’s- he just keeps looking at him, and feeling something rushing in his chest that he hasn’t felt for a while, like when he used to come home for the holidays and Jarvis would be standing there with his suitcase.
He taps binary against his mug, spelling out who the fuck are you in zero-zero-one-zeros, and stares glumly down at his coffee.
When he looks back up, Steve- wait, what? No, the guy has his brows furrowed, and he’s stopped smudging charcoal across the paper, and looks up, directly at Tony.
Tony freezes. And why did he freeze, he doesn’t freeze, he’s always there with a witty remark and something stored in the back of his mind to piss anyone off at anytime, but this fucking guy-
is still staring.
After a few seconds, Tony can’t take it anymore, so he- fuck you, he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing- picks up his spoon and waves it.
The guy laughs, the fucker, but Tony feels his mouth curve upwards against his will, and no, stay down, damnit! Frown! Do something!
Then the guy’s up and walking towards him, and Tony feels like he’s at his first dance all over again, fuck.
When the guy reaches Tony’s table, he clears his throat awkwardly. Um. Hey. Do, I, uh. Do I know you?
Tony wants to say, yes.
Wants to say, yes, you know me, I know you, you’re St-
Instead, he cocks an eyebrow. I’m Tony Stark. You may have heard of me? Billboards, posters, I had a TV show once-
That’s not it. The guy cuts him off, and then flushes, shifting his feet. Um.
Tony blinks. Did we sleep together? Because I’m pretty sure I’d remember you-
No, that’s- we didn’t- uh. The guy blushes even deeper, and good lord, where does that blush go to?
Tony shifts in his seat and manages to quell the urge to scrape his teeth down St- the guy’s throat, pull open his shirt, see how long that blush travels down.
The guy squirms, and finally holds out his hand. Steve. Steve Rogers.
Yep, he’s definitely slept with him. There is no other way he would know his name.
Tony grins. Nice to meet you. You’re definitely sure I haven’t slept with you?
Steve says, yeah, I’m a vi- and then splutters himself into silence, his entire face going tomato-red.
Tony half-chokes. You- holy fuck, you’re a virgin?
I didn’t- I didn’t say that, Steve says, looking determinedly at the ground, and Tony starts to laugh, a hand to his forehead.
Steve, graciously, waits until Tony laughs himself silent, and then manages, I could fix that.
Steve starts making noises again, and Tony waves his hand. Okay, okay, sorry- baby steps, right?
Steve smiles, a small flicker of his lips, and Tony stupidly feels his heart thump up in his throat.
He doesn’t blush. Tony Stark doesn’t blush, especially not at something like a gorgeous guy looking at him from under his eyelashes. So, how do you think you know me?
Steve- Steve, Steve Rogers, who likes his burgers with pickles and his guys with black hair, says, I don’t know. We should find out.