24. Purple (moving in together)
“Which one do you like best?”
Steve looked up to see Tony standing in front of him holding two cans of paint with a question on his face.
“The paint,” Tony reiterated, shaking them slightly in frustration. “Which one do you prefer?”
“I have no idea.” Steve put down his newspaper and reached out to take one of the pots when he noticed the crazy look in Tony’s eyes. Tony slid into the chair opposite him as Steve concentrated on the label of something called Crushed Flowers. It was quite a soft colour, a light purple almost like lilac. It was somewhat soothing, Steve supposed. Putting it down on the table, Steve beckoned for the second pot. “Let’s see that other one. What is it?”
Tony pushed the paint across the table and sighed. “I don’t even know anymore. I debated for like twenty minutes over something called Raspberry, which was quite frankly an alarming shade of violet, and Twinkletoes? Fuck knows what that colour was. The lady at the counter kept squinting at me and I’m positive she was about twelve seconds away from calling security on the crazy guy muttering to himself in the corner so I grabbed the two closest pots and ran.”
Steve laughed and threw the can down, reaching out for Tony. “Come here, you daft thing.”
Tony sighed dramatically, but he still walked around the table at Steve’s beckoning hands and dropped into Steve’s lap.
“Why purple?” Steve asked quietly when Tony was settled.
“No one has purple.”
Tony bit his lip and dropped his gaze to his hands twiddling in his lap. “People have blue kitchens and green bathrooms, red living rooms and yellow nurseries. I don’t think I’ve ever been in a house with a purple wall and I… I don’t know. I wanted our place to be special, you know?”
Steve smiled and buried his face into Tony’s neck, mouthing there to feel Tony squirm. When Tony finally let out a reluctant laugh, Steve pulled back.
“What about orange?” he asked thoughtfully, fingers absentmindedly drawing patterns up and down Tony’s spine. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen an orange wall.”
Tony pulled away and screwed up his face. “I’m not having an orange wall in my house. Who the hell do you think I am?”
And wasn’t that just typical Tony? Steve laughed loudly, booming and carefree and soon Tony joined him. When they finally settled down, Steve lifted a hand from Tony’s waist and reached for one of the cans.
“Sweetheart, I don’t think I can put something on my walls called Endless Plums.”
“Damn,” Tony said with a pout. “That leaves us with Crushed Flowers and that colour makes me want to be sick.”
Another snort of laughter and Steve was off again, gasping for breath. “Why did you buy it then?”
“I told you!”
“You’re an idiot.” When Tony pulled away with an indignant squawk, Steve surged forward to kiss him. “You don’t need the walls to be purple. You’re gonna be living there; it’s already special.”
And Steve meant it. He really, truly did. Anywhere that Tony lived was going to be somewhere amazing; just being able to come home to his smell and his smile was worth it.
But seriously, Endless Plums?
No fucking way.