Tony is staring. He is aware that he's staring, knows it just like almost every other person in the room, but it's safe. They are all gonna assume he's staring at Natasha.

And he is, she is a beautiful woman after all, but that's not really the reason he's staring.

The reason he's staring is the dress she is wearing.

It's gorgeous, falling softly around her form, with the faintest hint of glitter to it, and Tony wants it.

It's been a long time since he'd done it, wear something as elegantly as this, and he finds he still craves it. Craves it so badly his fingers are itching to touch the dress; his feet shuffling because all he wants to do is walk over there, closer to the dress.

He eyes it again, mentally making notes where it would have to be altered for him, so that it would fit his broader form, and when he mentally recites the phone number of the tailor who had helped him with this before, discreetly of course, he mentally slaps himself.

There was a reason why he stopped doing this, why he stopped wearing women clothes, and all five of them, plus Sam, Bucky, Vision and Wanda, are still living in his tower.

He figured it wouldn't be safe to do anymore; not with a master spy and an assassin in his tower, and that reason still held. There were two assassins now after all, one mind reading witch and an all-powerful being, that consisted of his own AI. There was no way Tony could still pull it off and not be caught.

When he had offered his tower up to the Avengers he had sent a package to one of his many vacation houses. He hadn't managed to just throw his 'collection' out, but he knew he needed to get rid of it, before someone could find it. Or find out.

So he had sent them off, and never looked back. He hadn't even thought about it that much, right until now. But there is just something about this dress that had him wanting, aching to wear it and Tony closes his eyes.

He knows he can never have that again, not when everyone is still living in his tower, not with Sam being there, but he still wants it.

Tony decides to give himself this one evening of wanting, of imagining what it would be like to wear something like this again, but he knows that once they get home, he has to bury that part of himself once more.

If not for himself, then for Sam. It wouldn't do to have his boyfriend find him walking around in something like this. He likes Sam, loves him even though neither of them has said it yet, and he will not screw this up.

So after this evening he will bury it again. At least that's what he resolves to do.

Tony finds himself looking at pumps that would go with Natasha's dress a few days later, and he realizes with a start that maybe this time he won't be able to stop.

Tony is so emerged into finding the perfect shoe that he doesn't hear Sam approach him from behind.

"What are you doing?" Sam asks him and leans on the backrest. "Did you piss off Pepper again?" he chuckles when he sees the site Tony is on and Tony jumps.

"I...yeah," he rushes out quickly, because what else can he do. Pepper is his perfect excuse for this.

"Those are not her colours," Sam frowns after a second and then takes a closer look. "That is not even her size."

"How would you know?" Tony shoots back, to gain some time to come up with a plausible explanation for this. Jarvis would have known to warn him, but Friday isn't quite as good yet.

"I grew up with two older sisters. You learn a lot, believe me."

Tony is barely able to process that information, his mind still reeling, trying to find a solution, but all he can think of is Natasha's dress and so he says "Don't tell Natasha, but her shoes didn't fit the dress from last week. I'm looking for something better."

Sam makes this humming noise and Tony fears his heart is about to beat out of his chest.

He jumps again when Sam points at a shoe. "That one. It complements the colour nicely and it even has a bit of glitter to it."

Tony looks back at the screen, realizing that Sam is absolutely right. His feet would feel amazing in those pumps, his calves would be shaped nicely and his ass would look more firm. He forcefully has to shove those thoughts away, but it takes him a moment.

"Are you gonna order them for Natasha?" Sam asks after a minute of silence and Tony remembers that this isn't about him.

But now he also doesn't have a reason to not order them and when he clicks the buy button, his heart is racing.

"Come to dinner when you are done," Sam says and drops a kiss to the top of his head before he leaves.

The mouse hovers unsurely over the 'Proceed to check out' button before he takes a deep breath and goes back to the size option. He quickly changes it and then rushes through the ordering process. Now he can't even say they are for Natasha anymore.

He can't stop thinking about it. Whenever Pepper or Natasha are in a dress, whenever he sees anyone wearing a dress really, he automatically imagines himself in it.

It goes so far that Sam notices something is off.

"Do I have to be worried?" he asks Tony one evening in bed, while they are cuddled together, and his voice is tense.

"'Bout what?" Tony mumbles, already half asleep and Sam squeezes him.

"You've been checking out a lot of women lately," Sam answers him lowly and Tony slowly sits up.

"What?" he asks and Sam shrugs.

"Whenever we go out, whenever Pepper and Natasha are in the room, your whole attention is on them. I'm just wondering if I should expect a break up any time soon. You seem to appreciate them a lot."

"I appreciate them because they look good. I appreciate you, because I love you. And if I have a say in that, you'll be the one I'm coming home to for a long time to come," Tony explains vehemently, and then realizes what he said.

They haven't yet said it, they aren't even together for that long, and Tony was sure that Sam would feel suffocated under what Tony just admitted to.

But Sam smiles at him, that one smile that always makes Tony's knees weak and let his heart flutter, and then reaches up to drag Tony down for a kiss.

"I love you, too," Sam eventually mumbles against his lips and Tony smiles at him, reassured that he didn't just kill their relationship.

When they settle down again Tony decides to stop doing this; he will not risk his relationship with Sam due to some stupid unnatural desires. This is good, exactly as it is. Tony can live without wearing dresses and pumps and Sam telling him how beautiful he looks in them. It won't be a problem.

Tony caves after three days. The shoes were express delivered to him and he has them in his closet for all of two days before he takes them out. He tells himself it's just to look, he wouldn't wear them, not in the tower, but he knows it's a lie.

It takes another three before he carefully checks that everyone left the tower or is otherwise occupied and then he hides in his bedroom to actually step into them.

He had forgotten how it felt, to wear pumps, but it's like a heady rush of happiness that comes over him. His first few steps are wobbly, still unused to the heel, but he quickly remembers how to walk and it feels good. He had forgotten how good this felt.

Still, he doesn't allow himself more than a few steps in his walk-in closet before he hurriedly steps out of them again, to bury them back in the corner he had stashed them in.

But now that he started once, he can't stop. He does it again and again, nearly comes back daily, and soon it isn't enough anymore. Sure he likes it, he loves it even, but it would feel so much better if he wore stockings and a dress. If he could just shave his legs; even that would change the experience, but Sam would notice, of course Sam would notice, and Tony doesn't have a reasonable explanation for that.

He quickly debates a lab accident, maybe he could burn off all his hair, but the result he wants is not guaranteed and so he decides against it.

He becomes daring over time, takes the time to enjoy his shoes even when other people are in the tower, and one day he is nearly caught.

He is in his closet, same as always since he hadn't yet dared to walk in the bedroom, when Friday announces "Boss, Miss Romanov is approaching your suite."

Tony stumbles in his pumps, nearly breaking his neck, but he rights himself quickly. He manages a weak "What?" before he hears the elevator.

He kinda blacks out for a moment, because the next thing he knows is that he is in the living-room, smiling brightly at Natasha. He tries to remember what he did with the shoes, if they are back in their box, but he can't remember and his breath is coming short. Sam can't find out.

"Tony, are you alright?" Natasha asks him and Tony gives her a tight smile.

"Always, you know that," he answers but she narrows her eyes at him.

"You seem tense," she observes and Tony shrugs.

"You just showed up unannounced. Way to make any man nervous, Romanoff," he says and she rolls her eyes.

"You're late for dinner," she tells him, while she takes his hand to drag him along. "And I hope by God you didn't forget movie night again, because this time you are staying, Stark."

"Aye-aye," he agrees, but he can't help a quick look over his shoulder. He hopes he put the shoes away.

When he comes back, early in the morning, thanks to a prolonged dinner, a movie and some team bonding afterwards, he can't look for the shoes because Sam is with him. But he quickly steps into his closet anyway, and lets out a sigh when the shoes are not in sight. Seems like his panic mode was good for something.

Tony arranges himself with the shoes. It's not enough anymore, but he won't order a dress, no matter how precise Friday's instructions are now, and so the shoes have to be enough.

He knows he is not handling it well, he avoids looking at any dresses at all, be they on women or in stores and magazines, and it's also a thing Sam notices.

"You know I believe you when you said you weren't looking at the women to find a replacement for me, right?" he asks him one day during breakfast and Tony nearly chokes on his cereal.

"I know," he coughs out and Sam helpfully pats his back.

"You can look at other people. It doesn't bother me. I know you are mine and I wouldn't leave you for something like that."

"I know that, Sam," Tony tells him but he thinks it won't be true once Sam finds out about him.

"Okay. Because I noticed that you don't look at them anymore, and you totally can," Sam says and smiles at him and Tony can't do anything but smile back.

He nods at Sam, hoping he will drop the matter now and thankfully Sam does, after a quick kiss to Tony's temple, though his eyes remain thoughtfully on him.

They are in the kitchen when Steve brings it up. He is reading some gossip rag and he puffs annoyed while he reads an article.

"What is it?" Bucky asks with an eye roll, because they all know Steve will rant about whatever annoys him, if they ask or not.

Steve slams the magazine down and points of a picture of Jaden Smith in a skirt. Dread begins to curl in Tony's stomach.

"Why are people talking about this? They practically flay him in here. What's wrong with him wearing skirts?" Steve asks and sounds genuinely confused.

"Well, it's just not a thing to be done, right? Men don't wear women's clothes," Tony helpfully chimes in and everyone looks at him.

"So you're saying it's wrong?" Steve asks and there is definitely a challenge in his voice. Tony never knew when to back down anyway.

"I'm just saying it's weird and definitely not the norm. Look around you. Does anyone here wear a dress?" Tony questions with a sweeping gesture around the room to cover his shaking hand. They can't know he would rather wear a dress than these pants right now. "It's just...I don't understand how people can like that sort of thing," he continues and Natasha arches an eyebrow.

"We enjoy skirts and dresses. You should try it one day," she tells him and Tony feels himself blanch.

"They are women's clothes. It's just not right," he presses out.

"Do you know Eddie Izzard?" Sam asks him out of the blue and the attention shifts to him. "He's a stand up comedian, who is known for his cross-dressing as well as the comedy aspect. He once said in an interview that the dresses are not women's clothes, because he bought and owned them. And I think it's really as simple as that," Sam tells them without taking his eyes off of Tony.

Tony shrugs uncomfortably, hoping that the conversation will steer in another direction but now everyone mentions someone they know who wore skirts or dresses at one point in their life, and Steve is still looking at him with these judging eyes and Tony simply cannot take it.

He gathers his coffee pot and gets up to flee to his workshop.

Of course Sam's words got Tony thinking again. So much in fact, that he was back looking at dresses. There are so many gorgeous designs out there, some even wouldn't have to be altered at all; he could order them and they would fit.

That discovery does nothing for his peace of mind because now buying one was even more tempting than ever, but he refrained. Hiding the shoes was difficult enough with Sam slowly migrating into his suite and Tony was pretty sure he could never hide a dress, let alone wear it without being discovered.

There was a reason he had stopped when the Avengers moved in after all.

But still, looking had never hurt anyone, and so he was browsing a site with summer dresses when someone appeared behind him.

Tony barely represses the impulse to hide his tablet, but he can't help the flinch.

"It's just me," Sam soothingly says and strokes a hand through Tony's hair. "What are you looking at this time?" he asks him with a strange undertone and Tony casually shrugs.

"Dresses for Natasha. She said she liked them, during that conversation, you remember, and so I thought maybe I'll buy her one as an apology for being an ass."

"You weren't an ass," Sam reassures him and Tony ducks his head.

"I really was. So I'm gonna apologize."

"That's nice of you," Sam tells him and nuzzles Tony's cheek. "But those are not her colours," he whispers into Tony's ear and Tony shudders.

"No? What are then?" he asks and Sam kisses down his neck.

"I think I should tell you in the bedroom," he says into Tony's skin and Tony shudders.

"You gonna sweet-talk me with colours?" Tony asks him but he leans into Sam's touch.

"I'll try my best," Sam responds and drags Tony up.

Tony hadn't seen Sam all day and he was starting to get suspicious. Sure it was a big tower, and they both had their own lives, but he hadn't even seen Sam at breakfast and something was just not right.

He asks Friday about it, but she is really not forthcoming with details and in the end Tony decides to wait until this evening.

Sam isn't at dinner and Tony starts to worry when Friday says "Boss, Sam is waiting for you in your bedroom."

Tony looks up, contemplating what Sam could possibly want, but then he shrugs. It doesn't matter, he will go either way.

He puts some food for Sam and himself aside for later and then makes his way to their suite.

When he enters their bedroom he stops dead in his tracks.

There is a beautiful dress on their bed, matching stockings and panties there was well, and the shoes Tony had bought all these weeks ago are standing at the end of their bed.

"What is this?" Tony croaks out and he is already in full on defending mode, even he can tell.

Sam just looks at him expectantly and Tony forces his eyes away from the dress to look at him.

"Thought you might like it," Sam casually says and Tony feels a bit faint.

"It's not your colour," he manages and Sam chuckles.

"No. But it's yours."

Tony has to steady himself on the doorframe, because his knees are a bit weak right now.

"What..." he starts and then licks his lips. "What are you doing?" he finally settles on and Sam gets up to walk towards him.

"Tony. I saw you looking at these dresses and shoes; and don't tell me it was for Natasha and Pepper, because it wasn't. I thought you might like this."

"Why would I like this?" Tony asks him and Sam shots him a look.

"Look, it's alright. If I was wrong we never have to speak of it again. If I was right and you still don't want to do this, we also never have to speak of it again and I would never hold anything against you, you know that. I found the shoes in the closet a few weeks ago and I think you would love to put that dress on and walk around for me."

"You don't want that. You won't like it," Tony whispers, desperately not thinking about the fact that Sam had found his shoes, but Sam takes his hand.

"I haven't seen you in a dress yet, so I cannot say for certain," Sam agrees and Tony's hope crashes to the ground. "But even if the dress does nothing for me, you would be wearing my clothes, clothes I picked and bought for you, and that would do a hell of a lot for me."

Tony let's his forehead fall onto Sam's shoulder and squeezes him hard.

"I can't," he finally says and Sam kisses his head.

"Mind to tell me why?"

"It's not right," Tony says into Sam's shirt and Sam strokes a hand up and down his back.

"Says who? It's something we both want, and like I told you before: I bought those dresses. That makes them mine by definition and so right now they are man's clothes."

Tony weakly chuckles and then presses closer to Sam. "My legs are not shaved," he mumbles and is glad that Sam hears him because he is not sure if he can say it again.

"There's a razor in the shower," Sam calmly tells him and Tony clutches his shirt.

"But you don't have to, sweetheart, you know that, right? I can put it away and we never have to speak about it again."

It hurts almost like physical pain, to imagine that no one ever is going to wear that dress, that he won't wear that dress and Tony makes an involuntary sound at that.

"Or we could start with just the dress and shoes. We can add the rest later if you want."

Tony gives a tentative nod at that; he is not sure he could handle the stockings and panties right now.

"The dress then?" Sam gently asks him and slowly leads him over to the bed.

"You picked it for me?" Tony asks to really make sure that this is not just a dream.

"Yes, I did. It'll show off your Arc reactor nicely and it's your colour."

"You also picked the shoes," Tony admits with a look down at them and Sam chuckles.

"I noticed. I asked Natasha if she got her shoes and she just stared blankly at me. Then I found them here."

"You knew that long?" Tony asks and looks up at him.

"I suspected. I suspected right until you came in and saw what I laid out for you."

Tony runs a hand over the silky fabric. "It's beautiful," he says and Sam practically beams at him.

"I'm glad. You want me to help you?"

"Yes, please," Tony agrees and together they slowly get Tony out of his clothes.

Tony is shaking with nerves and anticipation, but Sam is calm and steady at his side and when he helps Tony into the dress, finally, Tony suddenly feels calm. Like this is exactly how it should be.

Sam zips his back up and Tony gingerly steps into the pumps.

"Now spin for me," Sam says after some moments where Tony gets reacquainted with them and when he looks up he notices that he is taller than Sam.

Sam is smiling at him, open and encouraging, and Tony takes a deep breath before he spins around himself.

When he stops, Sam's eyes are still on him, but now there is a hunger to his gaze that wasn't there before.

"You are gorgeous," Sam says and his voice is a bit raspy.

"Don't lie to me," Tony croaks out, unable to believe Sam right now. But Sam is having none of it.

"You are gorgeous," he repeats, this time with vehemence and motions for Tony to spin again.

"It hugs you in all the right places," Sam drawls when Tony's back is turned towards him and Tony feels himself blush.

"Now how about you let me get you out of this?" Sam asks him and Tony laughs.

"But I just got into this," he protests half-heartedly, and backs off when Sam walks towards him.

He doesn't get far, because soon the back of his knees hit the bed. Tony lets himself fall down and then looks up at Sam, all wide eyed and smiling.

"Fuck, Tony," Sam lets out and pushes Tony down a second later.

He doesn't do anything though, he just hovers over Tony taking him in once more and Tony feels gorgeous, like he hasn't in a long time.

When Sam gets his gaze back up to Tony's face he peppers it with kisses.

"Isn't that the best part about a present? Unwrapping it?" Sam whispers between one kiss and the next and Tony laughs.

"I thought this was a gift for me."

"Well, turns out it's also one for me," Sam tells him, now serious again and Tony ducks his head but Sam puts a finger under his chin and lifts his head again.

"You are a gift and I love you," Sam tells him earnestly and Tony manages a breathy "I love you" before Sam kisses him deeply.

It feels different, having Sam pressed up against him like this, with the dress, it feels freeing and right and so damn good; it's a different Tony loves and craves. And going by Sam's enthusiastic reaction he does as well.

Maybe this was a gift for them both, after all.