If there’s nothing else to lose and nothing really to give up, why not? Who is this really hurting? They’re already both torn up and raw, bleeding where no one else can see. The argument of this eventually going to happen, or that they need this for relief is null and void at this point. As there’s a lack of good reasons not to carry on, there’s no reason to fight the carrying on.

Tony can let Steve love him, even if it’s artificial. Maybe he can love Steve too, even if it’s just a facsimile of what he’d had with Pepper. They can be like the Spartans at Thermopile, a set of lovers facing the unknown in hopes to save everything. Good enough for Tony. It’s about time that he reinvent himself.

Steve’s demand is still a little shocking. He blinks up through the water, willing whatever lacks a connection to find it in the blond, sooner rather than later. Now. They’re about to shape history so he can damned well shape himself.

“I can do that,” he says without any need for goading. This is the path to their survival. “It’s going to get messy. Glad we’re in the shower. You want to start with the conditioner? We’ve got time to let it sit.” He doesn’t break eye contact. “I really am going to need you to love me. And tell me that you love me. Often. I need something to fight for and you’re it, Rogers. Something more than the future we’re messing up for ourselves. I’m guessing you’re going to need more than that future too. It’s not conventional, I get that. I think that suits us.”