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Strolling out onto the roof with his hands in his pockets, Steve allowed himself to take in the views of the city. It was beautiful, even after all these years, even after all these changes. That was the thing, growing up in New York: you could always count on it to change with the times, to move forward. It was a constant flux, and conversely enough, one of the very few things that hadn't changed when Steve found himself unfrozen. It was a comfort in its own, strange way. The city that never slept hadn't waited for Steve, and that was the best thing the old girl could have done to make him feel right at home.

At some point in his musings Steve had approached the edge of the roof without realizing it. He glanced down, scuffing a toe in the gravel on the roof. Not too long a way down. Not the farthest he'd even fallen and lived, for sure.

The roar of repulsor boosters filled his ears, causing Steve to take a smooth step back from the ledge. He leaned back, gaze tracking up until he caught on the old familiar gold-and-red armor. A smile tugged at his lips as Tony flew over in his signature flashy style, coming to a hovering stop a foot or two in front of and above Steve. He had to tilt his head back to meet the metal mask's eyes.

“Tony.”

The faceplate flipped back, revealing a grinning Tony.

“Steve.” [...] “Fancy meeting you here,” Tony teased.

Steve stuck his hands in his pockets and glanced around. Tony wasn't landing, which could mean one of two things. He took a shot:

"Got something to show me?”

The faceplate clicked back down and Tony reached one armor-covered hand out to Steve. Steve took a step forward, up onto the safety ledge around the edge of the building. They'd never done this, he was acutely aware. Never done this casually, when there was no danger or imminent threat.