"Cleo....my darling, lovely Cleo. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" the man asked in earnest, hope shining in his eyes.

Arm draped over your eyes as you lie on the couch, you lifted it to see the man on one knee before you. Your eyes briefly flitted to the small velvet box in his hand.

"No," you mumbled, deadpan expression upon your face.

"What?"

"I said 'no'. For the fourth time, no I will not marry you, Tony!" you repeated, raising your voice.

He balked in disbelief. "Why not? And please, call me Antony."

"No."

"Okay."

"Because I don't love you and you don't love me! And stop calling me Cleo! For the last time, I am Y/N, you are Tony Stark. We are co-stars in a fictional play on Broadway where we pretend to love each other. We're actors! And while I appreciate your dedication to the role, we are NOT in love and you need to STOP proposing to me!" you cried out in exasperation, swinging your feet down to meet the floor.

"I think you're wrong. I think you do love me," Tony protested, combing fingers through his close-cropped dark hair while rising to his feet.

"I think you're delusional. We complement each other well and yes, we are convincing on stage. But it really is just pretend. You've gotta let it go. Besides, what about Pepper?"

"Who?"

You huffed out a sigh, "Pepper Potts? Your girlfriend? Poor girl who fell for your nonsense the last play you two were in together?"

"Oh...right," his brow furrowed in remembrance.

"Yeah. Go see her. We have the next two days off. Take a break from the theater district for once and try to be an actual person rather than a character, mmkay?" you stood, turning him around and giving him a shove toward the door. He wasn't even ready yet and the curtain rose in half an hour. The man was only half in costume and still needed a shave, something he complained about constantly since he couldn't keep his beloved goatee for the role.

Once he was gone, you collapsed into the chair in front of the vanity, lighted mirror showing makeup smudges upon your weary face. A few days off was exactly what you needed, too. The play had opened 7 weeks ago to good reviews and attendance had climbed steadily since then. Seeing your name on Playbills and a billboard in Time Square never failed to thrill you.

After making it to New York, you auditioned steadily while working the usual waitress and retail jobs to get by. It was a tough business, but you stuck it out and finally you had arrived. You were an understudy in a few plays before getting steady, supporting roles. Now this current project was your third major Broadway play and your first in a leading role. "MARK & CLEO, starring Tony Stark and Y/N (Y/L/N)" lit up the marquee outside the theater, a flutter rising in your stomach each time you saw it.

Tony's confusion wasn't entirely his fault, at least when it came to the character's name and personality. He was Mark Antony to your Cleopatra, but in modern times. Hence, Mark and Cleo. There were dream sequences in the play that took place in Ancient Egypt, which were Tony's favorite and now he required the entire cast to call him Antony. Ridiculous man. Since you only knew him in this role, you weren't sure if the role just fit him perfectly or if he was so method that he had completely embodied the character in real life. Either way, he was losing it. The time apart would do you both good.

The matinee earlier today had gone well, now you just had the evening show and then freedom! After fixing your smudged makeup, you attached your wig securely and then slipped on your robe to grab your first costume from the seamstress. It had needed mending after someone stepped on your gown's train during the matinee. Dress in hand, you returned to your dressing room and shut the door to change when a warm body pressed up against your back, arms circling around your waist.

"Well, this is a surprise," you whispered as he peppered kisses onto your neck and bare shoulders pulling the collar of your robe down to expose more skin.

"Mmm. I missed you," he murmured, hands caressing over and under your silky robe. You reached backward, fingers tangling in his long chestnut strands

You released a quiet whine, "Bucky...there's not enough time. I have to be on stage in 15."

"I know," he pouted, turning you around to face him. "But I'll take what I can get," he smirked, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was quick but passionate, tongues wrestling and hands grasping, leaving you both fighting for breath. Finally you kicked him out with promises of a continuation later so you could finish getting ready and clear your mind before stepping out on stage.

_____________

A flawless show, second curtain call and standing ovation left you riding high as you floated back to your dressing room. First thought was unstrapping from your dress so you could finally breathe again. Upon entrance, you saw on your vanity a dozen gorgeous red roses in a crystal vase. Bucky wasn't the romantic type, so you curiously plucked the card out and flicked the small envelope open with one finger. Seeing the familiar scrawl flew your eyes wide, heart almost stopping entirely as you read it.

Y/N,

Been a long time. You were phenomenal.

I knew you would be. Have some time for an

old friend? I'll be waiting outside.

Steve

Reading it a second, third, and fourth time, you waited for the words to sink in. He was here. Letting the shock wear off, you stuffed the card in your bag and changed out of wardrobe and into jeans and a hoodie, hair pulled away from your face. A good scrubbing to get the stage makeup off and you were almost unrecognizable from your character. You gathered your bags and headed out the stage door toward the street. Much to your delight and surprise, there were a dozen or so fans waiting for you to sign their Playbill. You spent a few minutes signing and talking, a few pictures taken in selfie mode with you. Tony exited shortly after and the crowd went wild, so you were able to slip away.

About 50 feet up the street, there he stood. Steve Rogers. He looked every bit as handsome as you remembered, if not more so: dishwater blond hair cut short on the sides but a little long on top with ever the rogue strands wandering down his forehead. Bright blue eyes above a chiseled jaw and that boyish smile made your stomach do a somersault or two. Not to mention his muscular chest and bulging biceps, all barely contained by a button-up dark blue dress shirt with black slacks and a dark leather jacket. Damn, he looked good. Suddenly you felt very underdressed.

"Steve, hi," you greeted him, nervous smile upon your face.

"Hi, Y/N," he grinned, quickly bringing you into a hug. With slight hesitation, you finally returned it before he pulled away and stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets.

"Wow, it's been a while. I haven't seen you in, what..."

"...three years," he finished your thought. "You look amazing. And that play? Wow. You were incredible, really." Dazzling, pearly white teeth shone bright under the street lights.

"Thank you," you felt your cheeks warm. "You look great, too. I'm, uh...I'm really surprised to see you. How did you know about the show?"

"Your mom told my mom, who told me. You know how it is," he shrugged.

"Right. Um...what brought you to the city?"

"A friend's wedding this weekend. Listen...are you free for a cup of coffee or something? I'd love to catch up."

"Tonight? Uh..." you trailed off as you spotted Bucky round the corner from the front of the theater. He stopped short to see you with someone. "I can't tonight. How long are you in town?"

"A few more days. Could I call you? Or something?" he asked, uncertain.

"Sure. Same number, if you still have it."

"I do. I'll be in touch. And congratulations, Y/N. You deserve it. Really," he held your gaze, then pulling you in for another short hug before he crossed the street with a wave.

Heading the opposite direction, you met up with Bucky as he fell into step with you.

"Who was that?" he gestured behind you with a jerk of his head.

"Old friend."

"Old flame?"

"Why? You jealous?" you teased, bumping him with your shoulder.

He scoffed, "No."

Once you were away from the theater, he slung an arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss to your temple as you walked. Your mind wandered back to your conversation with Steve, trying to process seeing him again and what it might mean that he sought you out. Bucky must have been talking without receiving a response because he snapped his fingers in front of your face to get your attention.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm good. It's just...Tony proposed to me today," you diverted the subject.

"Again? Man. That guy is certifiable. What the hell. I know his name raises ticket sales, but.." he trailed off with a shake of his head, then returning to the conversation you had spaced out during previously.

Things with Bucky were casual. He was an actor as well, currently as a foot soldier in the Ancient Egypt scenes and a few other small parts throughout the rest of the play. You noticed the handsome brunette with stormy grey eyes early on in rehearsals, but one night the cast went for drinks which led to more drinks, which led to stumbling past his roommates while clinging to one other and having drunken sex in his room before passing out. Not your finest moment, but there were better, sober times after that.

You weren't officially together and you preferred to keep it quiet, so the cast didn't know. It is what it is, you thought as he followed you up to your apartment. Your roommate had left a note that she'd be back in a few days so you had the place to yourself. Bucky relieved you of your bags and gripped you with a hand on each hip, pulling you close.

"You were incredible tonight," he captured your lips, hands slipping under your shirt. "Couldn't keep my eyes off you. I might've missed a mark or two because of you..."

"Mmm," you sighed as his lips caressed your collarbone. "You distracted me during the farewell scene. Almost forgot my line."

He chuckled, recalling the moment when he brushed past you closer than usual and pinched your behind. "I couldn't resist."

"Yeah, well, I'll have to return the favor one of these days," you grinned, gripping his magnificent butt cheeks with both hands. Next moment, he was kissing you in earnest as he walked you toward your bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes in your wake.

____________________

Waking to a brush of fingertips on your bare back followed by kisses, you allowed yourself a lazy morning making love and cuddling until growling stomachs forced you both out of bed. Bucky made breakfast while you showered. Towel-drying your hair, you heard your phone ring and swiped to answer.

"Hello?"

"Y/N. It's Steve."

"Oh, hi," you replied, temporarily frozen in your task.

"Are you available tonight? Maybe for dinner?"

"Let's me see..." you searched your mind, first of all if you had any previously obligations but also to decide if this was even a good idea. "Um...yeah...I think I can do that. Where and when?"

"8 o'clock? I'll pick a restaurant and text you the details, sound good?"

"Sure. I'll see you then," you hung up the phone to see Bucky in the doorway, still only in his boxers.

"Plans tonight?" he asked, his tone casual but a current of tension flowed underneath.

"Uh huh."

"Who with?"

"That, um...old friend from last night."

"Oh," he responded, slipping on a pair of sweats and pulling the draw string to tighten the waist. "What're you two doing?"

"Don't worry about it," you avoided the subject.

Arms crossed over his bare muscular chest, he met your gaze, "What if...what if I want to worry about it?" Insecurity was etched on his handsome features.

You let out a sigh, "Buck, don't do this. Let's just enjoy the first real day we've had off in weeks, okay?"

He nodded, pulling you into his side for a squeeze and then ushering you toward the kitchen, following the delicious smells wafting from it.

After breakfast the rest of the day was spent catching up on ridiculous tv shows and playing video games. It was nice to have no real obligations, doing nothing or anything you wanted. You ordered Chinese for lunch and neither of you left the couch most of the day. Around 6, you headed to your bedroom and started looking for an outfit to wear to dinner. Bucky took it as a sign to leave. He ducked his head in, clearly wanting to know more about this evening but holding back.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" he questioned.

"Sure. Today was fun," you smiled, pecking a kiss on his lips. He lingered a moment before slipping on a jacket and heading out the door. You knew there would be more discussion about this later, but right now you focused on tonight.

At 7:58, you stepped in the door of the restaurant Steve had picked, slipping out of your coat, which the hostess took, and searching the restaurant for the familiar blond. He raised a hand and you headed his way. Standing, he rounded the table to pull out your chair and you sat.

"Thanks for coming. You look great, Y/N," he smiled, rubbing damp palms on his thighs. Apparently he was nervous as well.

You cleared your throat, "You look very handsome as well." Apparently all either of you could do was awkwardly compliment each other. To your defense, he was dressed in a navy blue suit with a white button-up shirt this time but no tie, leaving a few buttons open showing his tanned collarbone. It was a good look.

Surprisingly, dinner went smoothly. Drinks and entrees were selected, then you began with an appetizer Steve had ordered before you arrived to tide you over. Conversation flowed as you both caught each other up on the past few years of your life as well as family occurrences. You and Steve grew up together, going to the same junior high and high school and aware of each other, but not running in the same circles.

Not until you ran into him at college did you even know they both were attending the same school once again. In the middle of your Sophomore year, he finally asked you out and you dated steadily for the rest of college. He was pre-Med and you were a theater Major with a minor in psychology. Many found that strange but you discovered it helped you flesh out characters if you understood their motivation and mental state, easier to slip into their shoes.

A few months before graduation, your father passed away unexpectedly, throwing your entire life for a loop. You considered postponing for a semester, but instead decided that school was the best distraction so you threw all your energy into your classes. Unfortunately, that singular focus also included letting things slide with Steve.

He acknowledged the elephant in the room when dessert was brought to the table, per his suggestion.

"Y/N...I know we've been dancing around the subject all night and I don't want to ruin the evening, but I just wanted to say...I'm so sorry about how I approached everything. I should have known you weren't ready for that and..."

"No, no," you interrupted, "I should have been more open with you. I had such tunnel vision that I didn't communicate, so you had no way of knowing," you confessed.

He leaned back in his chair with a sigh, "I just...I wanted you to have something good. Something happy to focus on after working so hard and after your dad....I should have known it was too much."

Setting down your fork, you kept your gaze on your plate. "I wanted to say yes," you spoke in a whisper. "I...I loved you. I just couldn't plan a future when I was barely holding on to the present. I am sorry that I hurt you, though," you finished, finally meeting his eyes

He gave a sad smile, letting the moment settle as your mind flitted to the memories of that day.

You came home from a long day of studying for finals, opening the door to your shared apartment to see a trail of rose petals scattered along the wooden floor. You should have known then what was happening, but you followed the petals to the living room filled with candles and dozens of red roses with Steve in the middle, down on one knee with a gorgeous but modest diamond ring in hand. It should have been one of your happiest and most exciting moments, but instead you collapsed into tears muttering over and over, "I can't, I can't..." until Steve felt so guilty that he just held you until you calmed down.

You knew things wouldn't be the same after that, so you finished school, graduated quietly without attending the ceremony and moved to New York alone less than a week later. You had broken Steve's heart along with your own, but the pain hit you later once you were settled into the crowded and yet somehow lonely big city. He was the one that got away and you knew it. About a year later, you wanted to reach out and possibly fix things, but you heard through mutual friends that he was seeing someone. You had missed your chance. Late for the love of your life. So you did your best to move on.

After Steve insisted on paying the bill for dinner, he offered to split a cab but you preferred walking. Besides, you apartment wasn't far away. You strolled beside Steve at a leisurely pace, enjoying his company. He told you about his residency at a prestigious hospital in Boston while you shared stories about how much you loved being on stage and the funny antics that often happened behind the scenes. You both laughed hysterically at the time when the trap door wouldn't open so Tony just dropped to the floor and slithered off stage on his belly like a snake. Arriving outside your apartment, you stalled before the stairs, then turning around to face Steve.

"I had a great time, Y/N. It was really good seeing you," he grinned, fidgeting with hands in his pockets.

"Yeah, this was fun."

Steve paused before speaking, unsure how to proceed. "Y/N...is there any way...could I see you again before I leave?" he blurted the last part before he lost his nerve.

You smiled, "I'd like that."

He sighed in relief, "Okay. I'll be in touch. Good night, Y/N."

"Good night, Steve," you echoed as he pulled you into a lingering hug. He smelled amazing, like Old spice aftershave with an undertone of fresh linen. He watched you climb the stairs and step inside before walking away, your heart rate beginning to slow at last.