I am currently trying to juggle my obsession between Sherlock Holmes slash and Iron Man. Thankfully, this fanfic inspiration for Steve x Tony inspired me to write more for Sherlock Holmes.

Part 2 is going to be following shortly.

Reviews are loved and returned with hugs and cookies!

Part 1

For perhaps the eighth time that night, Steve Rogers glanced at his watch, trying to be very discreet about it so as not to offend the group of people milling about him. He felt very uncomfortable and out of place dressed in a drab suit and tie – the suit stretched to the point that the seams were practically groaning in protest. Okay, so he might've bulked up a bit with all the wars and skirmishes that he'd been involved in over the past year. His broad shoulders and muscular arms were constrained enough to prevent much movement inside what he displeasingly thought of as a classy straitjacket.

Why had he allowed Tony to talk him into this?

Steve shifted to lean his right side up against the bar, lifted his mineral water to his lips but didn't actually drink it. Now, his full attention was directed to the buffet table in front of the massive floor-to-ceiling windows that wrapped around the luxurious penthouse that Tony had ordered rearranged as a classy party room.

Standing by the mouth-watering arrangement of barbecued spare ribs, roast beef, grilled salmon, sushi, and lobster tails, Tony Stark seemed to be deeply intrigued with a lovely, petite brunette who was practically dripping off of the multi-billionaire's arm. There she wavered, staring up at Tony with a doe-eyed expression as he rambled on about… something.

Steve frowned, clenching the bottled mineral water tightly in his hand. Oh, she was a pretty little thing; there was no denying that. But she was a shark. A passive one, but a shark all the same. And what did all female sharks want with the handsome Tony Stark? As Steve saw it, the type that persistently chased Tony would settle for nothing less than a private invitation to his bedroom, access to his fancy sports cars and credit cards, and then the ultimate blow – either breaking Tony's heart or stabbing him in the back.

That was why Steve had agreed to accompany Tony to this fundraiser event, to ensure that his friend and comrade escaped from the night unscathed.

When Tony turned from his star-struck fan to wander around the private tables, Steve watched him curiously before looking over at the brunette again. Tony must've abandoned her pretty abruptly to warrant the malicious glare that burned into the oblivious playboy's back.

From across the room, Tony very casually made his way over to the bar, and to Steve. He'd grown tired of his vapid conversation partner, excused himself from her presence, and had made off with his plateful of hors d'oeuvres and the sparkling soda that he'd requested poured into a martini glass. In the past, he would've gone out of his mind attending one of these tiring functions without softening the torture with a couple of flutes of champagne, or some hard liquor. But, those days were far behind him now and he had no desire to repeat those mistakes again. He'd been sober for exactly two years, three months, and five days. All the beautiful women in the world couldn't possibly challenge his sobriety nowadays.

Coming up behind Steve, Tony claimed his friend's empty barstool, leaning back into the counter as he observed the stiff line of those broad shoulders and extremely tense neck muscles.

"Stop fidgeting. You'll crease the jacket," Tony teased in an overly arrogant voice, keeping up his pretentious behavior for the sake of his expectant guests.

Steve nearly jumped out of his skin, whirling around to trip on the barstool that had shifted close to his right leg.

"Where did you come from?" Steve clumsily restored his balance by gripping onto the edge of the counter in a very un-Captain America-like lack of grace. "I saw you over there a minute ago." He nodded to the dessert table at the far end of the room.

"I came over while you were distracting yourself with Miss Evil Eyes over there." Tony indicated the fuming brunette who was now gorging herself on chicken wings. "I can introduce you, if you'd like," he offered, digging into a piece of black forest cake with deliberate slowness. Pausing to lick the fork clean of chocolate sprinkles, he didn't notice the odd way that Steve's eyebrow twitched.

"No thanks." Steve fought to control his body's impulses, wondering if Tony was intentionally making the fork licking appear as a scandalous sexual act, or if it was just an innocent behavioral defect that seemed to fit in nicely with the solicitous undertone of the party. "What're you drinking?"

Tony's answer came rather abruptly, even as he refused to look up at Steve who was hovering over his shoulder. "It isn't alcohol."

"I know that," Steve hurriedly cut in before Tony could become all defensive and saunter off in a huff. He knew how seriously Tony took comments towards his alcoholic deviancy and had no desire to stir up the dust that buried that part of his friend's life. If Tony had started to drink again, Steve prided himself on the fact that he would've been the first to notice. "I just think that it was a nice touch to use that martini glass."

Tony relaxed and smirked. "You can't come to one of these things and sip at mineral water," he commented. "At least not out of the bottle." Beside him, Steve reddened but said nothing. "This sparkling soda goes really well with this cake." He smiled happily at Steve, leaning forward onto the counter with his elbows, while he indulged his sweet tooth.

That smile was really infectious but Steve had a difficult time thinking of anything other than ditching the group of pompous assholes that giggled and chuckled phonily in front of his glowering sky-blue eyes. "Tony, how much longer do we have to hang around here?"

"Bored already?"

"You have no idea!" Steve tugged at his tie, loosening it a bit to allow himself to breathe properly.

Tony finished off his cake and gulped down the soda. "You can leave anytime you want, Steve. I really do appreciate you tagging along though. With everything that's been going on lately, I felt kind of nervous just showing up alone." Pushing away that confession quickly lest Steve target it as open for discussion, Tony hopped off of the barstool and clapped Steve on the shoulder. "If you're still up when I get home, maybe we can do a bit of sparring so that I can work off these calories."

"Um… sure." Steve watched, deflated, as Tony rejoined his rich companions. He openly admired the leanly muscled, dark haired tech genius, watched him strut over to a group of fancily dressed bimbos and goons. The dark, pinstriped Armani suit that Steve had picked out for his friend really looked outstanding on Tony. Unfortunately, it also served as a reminder that Tony was way out of Steve's league.

Having been frozen on ice for a few decades and then waking up to a world that had continued on in his absence, Steve had originally had a lot of trouble adapting to the technological and cultural changes. Although the advancement of technology never ceased to complicate his life and overly tax his patience, the cultural differences had been quickly assimilated by his overeager mind.

One of the very significant cultural differences was the advocacy for sexual freedom and gay rights. Steve had been shocked at first to discover gay and lesbian couples walking hand in hand in the public parks and streets. He'd considered himself to be one hundred percent heterosexual, devoted to monogamous relationships with the rare women that caught his eye. That was until he'd begun to realize how Tony's flirtatious nature and attractive good looks were beginning to lure him in. It had been a gradual thing where his hand would linger on Tony's bare arm after an intensive workout. Occasionally, he would purposely cast himself in the role of third wheel, posing as an obstacle to the flimsy dates that Tony picked up here and there. Nothing ruined a date faster than a friend claiming to be suffering from food poisoning. And then there were the few times that he'd caught himself staring at Tony's ass and thinking impure thoughts about what he could imagine himself doing with it. Contrary to what most people believed the saintly Captain America to be, he was far from being a man lacking in imagination.

But, regardless of his hopelessly romantic attraction to Tony, there wasn't much that Steve could do to act on it if it was one-sided.

Deciding to call it a night, Steve was about to leave when he caught sight of Tony again. Only, this time Tony was with another man and they were both inconspicuously heading for the exit.

It couldn't be what it looked like. Could it?

The other man looked like a rich, fat cat. Oh, he was handsome enough in an I-spend-all-my-time-on-the-beach tanned sort of way. He looked to be a couple of years older than Tony, his short reddish hair flecked with grey, and slightly taller and bigger. There was no mistaking that they were leaving together for the older man pushed open the heavy door and ushered Tony out by dropping his hand to the playboy's waist.

As the door swung shut behind them, Steve sat down feeling disoriented and confused. Since when was Tony bisexual? How had he failed to notice this before? Suddenly, the scene from five minutes ago replayed in Steve's head. Tony had been looking at him so openly, flaunting his sexuality like a sharp weapon, and Steve had inadvertently blown him off. Come to think of it, Tony couldn't have more blatantly thrown himself at Steve if he had tried. What, with the cake licking, contented smile, and the fact that Tony had personally invited him to the party – ignoring all that bullshit about feeling nervous alone – Tony might as well have propositioned him on the spot!

"I'm such an idiot!" Steve chastised himself even as he launched himself off of the barstool and strode purposely for the exit. He'd unknowingly rejected Tony, causing his friend to hastily seek out a new companion to soothe his injured pride and hurt feelings. And what a dangerous thing to do! Taking off with a man he probably knew nothing about in a vulnerable emotional state! When Steve got his hands on Tony, he was going to kill him!

To be continued…