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Tony’s sitting at the kitchen table when Steve walks in from work, newspaper pages spread out in front of him in a chaotic fashion that he’s pretty sure makes sense only to Tony. He looks up and makes a noise, like something from Night of the Living Dead, then slumps forward with wads of paper crumpled in each of his hands.
“Why is it so hard to find a decent job?” he complains to the tabletop and Steve rubs a hand between his shoulders, peering down to look at all the red circles around possible positions. He catches sight of sous chef and accounting manager, which he’s pretty sure are both not what Tony’s looking for, but it’s a start.
“You do realise you have plenty of other occupations to fill your time. You can always work at the garage, or try to find a full-time position for teaching.”
“There’s a void in my life,” Tony mumbles overdramatically and Steve pats him reassuringly before going to fetch a soda from the fridge.
He cracks it open and sits opposite Tony, taking a page from the newspaper and glancing over it.
“How about becoming a mall cop?” he asks and gets a glare in return.
“I’m serious, Steve. If I have to sit around this apartment for another day watching reality shows on MTV, I will go postal.”
“Macy’s is looking for a new sales assistant in women’s clothing.”
“I only cross-dress for you,” Tony quips and Steve tries his best not to let him see how it affects him, but the blush still rises over his cheeks. He tries scowling at him, but it’s half-hearted at best and Tony just grins anyway.
“Are you hungry? I could grab take out.”
Tony waves a hand as though to dismiss the notion.
“I already ordered Thai. Should be here in a few minutes.”
It actually sounds pretty appetising, if Steve’s honest. He grins even though Tony isn’t paying attention and nudges their feet together under the table.
“Have you ever wanted to be a florist?” Steve asks, holding up his page and pointing to an advertisement for a young, enthusiastic worker with an eye for style. Tony looks up and smirks.
“I’m a man of many trades.”
*
Steve has always known that one day Bucky would find out, he just wishes it didn’t have to be somewhere so public.
They’re out at lunch when it happens. It’s just a normal spring afternoon; Tony’s sipping his way through his second coffee while he jots down notes on a scrap piece of paper, and Steve is not really paying attention to anything, just staring off into the distance.
“Hey, buddy,” comes a familiar voice, but Steve doesn’t realise it’s addressed to him until there’s a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently.
He glances up, almost dropping his own drink when he sees Bucky staring down at him.
“Bucky!” His heart thunders in his chest and he really hopes Tony doesn’t look up because if Bucky recognises him, there will no way to live it down. “What are you doing here?”
“We live in this place called a free country, which is a strange concept, but it means that I can visit places whenever I want.”
Steve winces, because Tony will definitely be intrigued. Birds of a sarcastic feather stick together. For a second, Steve thinks he’s got away with it because Tony’s aviators definitely disguise him, but then it’s Tony that gives himself away.
“Bucky? As in the Bucky we should be thanking?” Tony is too far away to elbow, so Steve shoots him a look instead, hoping he can see how much it screams shut up. “It definitely is.”
Tony offers his hand to Bucky and smiles.
“Tony,” he says as Bucky shakes it with a look of confusion still on his face. However, when Tony slides the shades off, it seems to dawn on him.
“As in Tony the prostitute?”
Steve wants to disappear into the ground.
“Ex-prostitute, though I think Steve prefers the term escort.”
“No way. No way. You totally lied to me, didn’t you?” he asks Steve, whose ears start heating up in shame. Bucky doesn’t sound at all angry about it and unfortunately just seems endlessly entertained by it. “You old dog. You had the best birthday ever and you never even admitted it. Wait, are you paying him now? To sit in a café with you?”
Steve rubs his forehead and sighs.
“No, Bucky. He’s here out of his own free will. Hence the ex part of ex-prostitute.”
“Tell him about the part where we started dating,” Tony says, as though knowing how much it’ll make Steve wince. Bucky laughs loud and genuine, patting Steve on the back and taking the open seat next to him.
“Do you realise you’re living out Pretty Woman?”
“I’m still waiting for him to take me to the opera, though,” Tony jokes and Steve feels like his life is falling apart. He can deal with Bucky and Tony separately, but together he knows they’re going to be the death of him. Bucky leans back in his chair, grinning, eyes moving between Steve and Tony as though he can’t quite wrap his mind around everything because he’s too smug and happy. Steve rubs at his own mouth because the smile is infectious.
“You totally slept together on that first night too.”
Tony shrugs nonchalantly and slowly smirks.
“What can I say? I’m good at what I do.”
Bucky laughs loud and light hearted, obviously not caring at all that Steve lied to him about everything.
“I thought you seemed happier,” he says turning to Steve and prodding his shoulder playfully. “You were with Tony the entire time.”
Steve drops his head to his palm and tries to get the blush out of his system before he looks back up. When he does, both Tony and Bucky are smiling at him and Tony nudges him gently with his foot under the table.
“See?” Tony begins with a casual gesture. “Bucky’s glad we’re together. You’re glad we’re together. I’m glad we’re together.”
Steve sighs, but knows there’s nothing else he can do but accept his fate.
“So you’re saying we should buy Bucky a fruit basket?”
He sees the corner of Tony’s mouth twitch up in amusement and knows he’s done well.
“At the very least.”
Steve makes a thoughtful noise and nods.
“Tony and I were thinking about trying out that new restaurant on 5th tonight. Want to join us?”
Bucky leans back in his chair and looks unreasonably pleased with himself.
“You two have a lot of making up to do. You’re in my debt forever.”
“Or until I get fed up of Tony,” Steve points out. Tony pulls a face and opens his mouth to object, but Steve pats his hand comfortingly. “Don’t worry; you have a few more weeks yet. So is that a yes or a no?”
Bucky laughs quietly and laces his fingers behind his head, looking relaxed and casual.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
*
Steve escapes dinner with only a mild case of annoyance and Tony laughs all the way home.
When Steve tries to go to bed early to escape, Tony slinks under the covers and spends forty-five minutes cheering Steve up. It’s well worth it in Steve’s opinion.
*
Tony takes a few jobs here and there, though always seems to have something to say about them after only work a shift or two. Steve offers to see if there’s anything available at Erskine Publishing Co., where he works, but that earns him a one-fingered gesture and two hours of moody silence.
After two weeks of no progress, Steve returns home from a long day to find Tony buttoning up one of his better shirts, a somewhat sly grin on his face.
“Where are you off to?”
“A friend asked me to fill in for them at work,” he says as Steve throws his coat over the back of the couch. “You’ll have to eat dinner without me.”
“What job are you attempting now?”
“Oh, it’s just at some club. You should stop by for a drink.”
Steve never realised Tony was into bartending, but, if he’s honest, Tony never stops surprising him, for which he’s a little grateful.
“Maybe I will.”
Tony shoots him a crooked smile and steps closer, sliding a business card into the pocket of Steve’s pants as he leans forward for a quick kiss.
“See you later, big guy,” he says with a wink before grabbing his phone off the kitchen table and disappearing out the front door.
There’s not much on the card when Steve pulls it free, just the name L’homme de Fer and an address for a place he knows is only a few stops away on the subway. It doesn’t sound like anything fancy, probably just a hole in the wall hangout for trendsetters and the like. It won’t hurt to distract Tony for a little while, he supposes.
He loosens his tie and kicks off his shoes because, more importantly, there’s leftover meatloaf in the fridge and he’s been thinking about it all day.
*
It’s colder than he expects when he leaves the apartment a few hours later, but the subway is quiet and slightly warmer, so it could be worse. What he definitely doesn’t expect is for there to be a line outside the doors of the club to which the address leads him. He stutters to a halt and wonders if he should just call Tony, or if that’s against clubbing etiquette.
He’s just reaching for his phone when he catches sight of the bouncer by the door, beckoning him over. He looks behind him to make sure there isn’t anyone else the man could be gesturing to, and ends up edging towards his slowly out of confusion.
“Are you Steve?” the guy asks and Steve blinks.
“Uh, yeah?”
“Mr Stark said to let you in if you showed up.”
Steve doesn’t know if he should feel relieved or scared.
“How did you recognise me?”
The bouncer fiddles with his clipboard and then holds out a laminated card that’s – that’s Steve’s ID. He pats his back pocket because his wallet is still there, but when he opens it up, his driver’s licence is missing.
“Did Tony give this to you?” he asks, taking it back and sliding it into his wallet once more. The guy nods and doesn’t seem at all fazed. Tony must have stolen it when he put the business card in his pocket. It’s a skill of his that Steve doesn’t want to think about.
“He said you’re his plus one for the night. He even paid your cover charge. I have to say he’s a popular guy.”
Either Tony works his magic quickly, or he’s been here before as a customer, not an employee. He puts his wallet back in his pocket and steps forward as the bouncer opens the door for him.
“Have a good night, Mr Rogers,” he says and the people at the front of the line groan and complain behind him, but he doesn’t care because it’s so much warmer inside.
It’s hot and loud and not a place Steve would usually frequent. He glances about, noticing the booths scattered about and a large stage on the left. The bar is straight ahead, but Tony’s not behind it. Steve guesses he’s on his break, until the whistling and catcalling starts.
He hadn’t paid attention to who was on the stage, just assumed it was some sort of retro go-go dancer meant to entertain the hipsters, but when he looks properly, there’s a half naked man gyrating his hips, a frill of dollar bills lining the edge of the tiny shorts he’s wearing. The shorts that are definitely two sizes too small and will only end in pieces if any more money is shoved down them.
“What the – ?”
He goes to pull his phone out to text Tony, but someone places a warm palm between his shoulders and ushers his forward towards an empty booth. When he turns, he finds a kid no older than twenty-one, grinning at him as though he knows the secrets to the universe.
“You’re Tony’s boy, right? You might as well get comfortable. He’ll be out soon. He said you like virgins, so here’s one on the house.”
He winks and sets down a drink that looks fruity and bright on the table in front of him before disappearing without letting Steve get a word in edgewise. As long as Tony knows he’s there and won’t leave him staring at some stranger’s ass for half an hour, which seems highly likely as his seat has a perfect view of the stage.
Thankfully, the song ends a few moments later and the man scoops up the money on the floor and saunters off the stage with what’s left of his dignity. At least he knows now why Tony didn’t let on what kind of place it was beforehand. He doesn’t touch the drink, but he slips out of his winter coat, leaving him in his slacks and shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. With the club’s heating seemingly up as high as it will go, it’s still a little warm, but it’ll do.
“Would you please give a warm welcome,” the announcer begins, the music slowly picking up tempo once more, “to the Man of Iron, himself!”
The whistling in the audience increases tenfold and Steve can’t help but wonder what kind of man would want that kind of attention. He almost breaks his chin on the table when his jaw drops, because none other than Tony stalks out onto the stage in a red and gold outfit that should look atrocious, but actually gets Steve a little hot under the collar.
Now he just hopes Tony doesn’t know he’s there because if he does, this is going to end badly. Mostly for Steve’s pride. He ducks his head, focussing his eyes on the table in front of him, because he really doesn’t want to draw attention to himself. In his periphery, he can see the crowd waving money at Tony, screaming and trying to buy his interest.
When the noise increases, Steve knows Tony’s doing something provocative, but he can’t bring himself to look over. The music is fast and loud, thundering through his body and making his teeth ache. He wonders if he could just sneak out now because he can see the door he came through and with the crowd yelling up a storm, he’s almost sure he could escape without notice.
He grabs his coat and starts to slide out of the booth when a hand lands on his shoulder and pushes him back down. His head shoots up in shock to find Tony grinning down at him, his body still rocking in time to the beat. There are crumpled notes stuffed into the waistband of the skintight shorts he’s wearing and one or two nail marks dotting the nearby skin.
“Someone told me you paid for a special treat, sir,” he murmurs, leaning down to let his mouth brush Steve’s ear.
Even in the tight confines, Tony moves to straddle him, skin squeaking against the vinyl seats. Steve’s heart picks up speed in a way that only Tony can make it do and he turns his face away, one hand still clenching his coat tightly.
“What are you doing here, Tony?”
“My buddy Rhodey asked me to cover for him tonight. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Do I have a choice?”
Tony loops an arm around Steve’s shoulders and shifts closer, rubbing himself against Steve’s chest and letting out a soft breath against his neck.
“Private dances were off the books tonight, but I thought you’d appreciate being an exception.”
He twists his hips and grinds down just enough to make Steve want more before raising himself back up and grinning.
“Tony,” Steve complains, but he still wants.
“Tonight, I’m the Man of Iron and you are just another client. But I can see promise in you, sir. You can show me a good time, right?”
When he pushes down again, Steve still isn’t ready for it, but he lifts a hand with every intention of grabbing Tony’s waist. A hand catches his wrist and stops him halfway there.
“If you put your hands on me,” Tony drawls, mouth close to Steve’s ear so he can hear over the music. “That bouncer in the corner will break all your fingers. I’ve seen it before. It’s not pretty.”
Steve swallows and doesn’t even have to look over because he can feel the security guard’s gaze on him, hot and heavy and daring him to make one false move.
“You just have to sit back and relax, stud.”
Tony circles his hips, dragging his ass across Steve’s crotch and a blush rises to Steve’s cheeks when he realises he can’t stop himself from getting hard. His body seems fine tuned to Tony, even now in such a public place. He digs his fingers into the seat below and wonders if he’s allowed to grind upwards. He won’t push his luck, though, because Tony has a good rhythm going and if he shuts his eyes, he can imagine they’re in the comfort of their bedroom.
His head drops back against the padding and he feels Tony’s smile against his throat.
“Feel good?” Tony asks, but it sounds as though he already knows the answer.
Steve grits his teeth to keep himself from grabbing Tony’s hips and showing him exactly how good it feels. Tony seems to know that too because he moves with purpose to the beat of the music, rubbing against Steve until he’s sure there will be an embarrassing wet spot on the front of his slacks. If they’re not careful, Steve is going to end up with more than that to worry about.
“How much to take this somewhere quieter?” Steve grinds out because he knows how much of a tease Tony can be and he will never be the first to break.
When he opens his eyes, he finds Tony grinning down at him lazily, hips still moving, but slower and made to drive him insane.
“For you, sugar? How about you show me yours, I’ll show you mind, and we’ll call it even?”
When he leans forward, Steve tilts his head up for a kiss, but Tony stops millimetres away and just breathes across his mouth instead.
“Follow me.”
The movement as he slides from Steve’s lap is graceful, but Steve almost stumbles as he leaves the booth, only just remembering to grab his coat before Tony takes his hand and leads him in the direction of a stage door. There’s already another dancer on the raised platform to their left and the clientele don’t seem too disappointed that Tony’s leaving.
Through the doorway is a series of narrow hallways, but Tony seems to know where he’s going, only stopping when they reach a door that has J Rhodes written on it in curling gold script.
“He won’t mind,” Tony tells him, pulling him into the room and locking the door behind them.
He has Steve plastered up against it in seconds, his mouth warm and familiar against Steve’s own. Steve drops his jacket and pulls Tony in by the waist, finally able to touch him. His knuckles ache as he digs his fingers into soft flesh, but Tony ruts against him, the tiny shorts doing nothing to conceal how hard he is. When he slides his fingertips under the waistband, Tony grunts and bucks forward, nipping at Steve’s bottom lip like he means it.
“Glad you came?” he asks when he pulls away long enough to speak. Steve silences him with a roll of his hips, sliding his hands all the way down to grab Tony’s ass and haul him closer.
“I haven’t yet.”
Tony makes a shocked noise, but continues grinding against him, pushing a thigh between Steve’s legs as though he can’t quite help himself. It’s the perfect pressure for Steve and he can’t help but think that he’s about to become two for two for giving into Tony’s advances before he can even get his clothes off. It’s worse than when he was a teenager.
Tony slides his hands up to Steve’s face, holding him steady as he leans in and kisses him deep enough to swallow down every groan and wrecked sound that tries to slip from Steve’s mouth. He’s thankful for it when Tony cants his hips with purpose, clearly on the edge of something great. Steve can’t help but let his fingers stray, knowing that it won’t take much to get Tony there. He rubs his forefinger over Tony’s entrance and then holds on as Tony shakes apart against him, the movements dragging Steve down with him.
Steve has to blink to clear his sight before Tony comes back into view, slouched against Steve’s chest, panting heavily into the curve of his throat. Steve isn’t any better because he can feel an embarrassingly large wet spot growing across the front of his pants and he’s just thankful that his coat is long enough to cover it. It will still make for an uncomfortable trip back home.
With one last kiss to Steve’s neck, Tony draws away which ends in him stumbling back two paces and dropping onto the couch along the wall. He looks ruined in the best of ways and it’s a little hard for Steve to look away.
“I don’t think I’m cut out for this job,” Tony says around harsh breaths and Steve feels a little self-satisfied that it means Tony is still one hundred percent his. Apparently, Tony can read minds because he narrows his eyes at Steve and says, “Zip it.”
Steve holds his palms up, but grins nevertheless.
“I never said a word.”
“I can hear you thinking.”
“How about right now?” he asks, putting just enough suggestion in it to get Tony’s attention. He perks up at that and Steve smiles to himself.
“That’ll cost you extra,” Tony jokes, but seems just as eager to get home as Steve is.
*
“I've come up with an idea,” Tony says on a random Tuesday morning. Steve doesn't know what to think. He’s heard that before and it’s never ended well.
“A job?”
“If it all works out. Possibly.”
Steve takes a sip of juice and watches Tony carefully.
“Should I be worried?”
Tony pushes away from the table, taking his cereal bowl to the sink to rinse before sliding it into the dishwasher. When he leans over Steve’s shoulder, Steve turns his head automatically. Tony tastes like cold milk and cornflakes when they kiss but it's familiar and worryingly domestic.
“Not at all,” Tony murmurs before he leaves the kitchen. After a moment, Steve hears the bathroom faucet turn on and the noise of Tony brushing his teeth. With a quiet sigh, Steve sits back in his chair, completely unsure what he should expect, but trusting Tony anyway. Mostly, at least.
Tony wanders back past the kitchen a few minutes later, smelling of mint and deodorant, his shoulders hunched, but his expression eager.
“Don’t wait up for me tonight. I’ll be working late.”
He ruffles Steve’s hair, clearly because he know how much it annoys him, shoots him a grin and then disappears out the front door.
Steve takes another bite of his toast.
*
Steve’s almost asleep when Tony crawls into bed beside him smelling of sawdust and sweat. Steve rolls over and buries his nose into Tony’s collarbone, breathing deeply as he winds a heavy arm over his hip. Tony seems exhausted, but he lets Steve push him onto his back and blow him, falling asleep almost immediately after.
In the morning, Steve finds Tony sitting on the bathroom counter with a pair of tweezers, casually picking splinters out of his hands. Steve doesn’t even bother asking about it.
*
The boxes start arriving on a random Tuesday afternoon. They’re under Tony’s name, but Steve signs for them because they show up on his doorstep and Tony’s out doing whatever it is he’s been up to lately. They’re heavy and unmarked, but Steve refuses to open one and find out what’s inside. It just doesn’t seem right to pry. Tony will tell him when the time comes.
Tony is inordinately happy about them and slowly begins to move all twenty of them out to God knows where. He never says what they’re for, but his excitement seems to grow as the days pass.
*
“I was thinking of doing dinner at the house tomorrow night,” Tony says casually as Steve knots his tie between mouthfuls of cereal.
“Isn’t that what we usually do?”
“I mean at my house.”
Steve doesn’t expect that. It’s a few months after Tony first started working on his secret project and Steve wonders if things are going to calm down now.
“Oh,” he says, feeling entirely shocked. “My shift ends at five. You want me to meet you there?”
Tony seems to relax a little at Steve’s answer and he nods.
“I’ll be there all day, so pick a time, any time.”
“Seven?”
Tony shoots him a genuine smile and taps his fingers against the table.
“Sounds good. You don’t need to bring anything, just yourself.”
He winks and Steve tries not to spill his breakfast everywhere.
*
The outside of Tony’s house looks exactly as Steve remembers. It’s still eerily gigantic and not at all like a home. There’s a large sign above the doorbell that is covered up with blue painter’s tape and Steve raises his eyebrow at it before knocking on the door instead. There’s a short pause before Jarvis appears, not looking at all surprised to see Steve, and just holds the door open for him to pass.
Steve thanks him quietly and steps through, glancing about for any indication that Tony is around. Instead, he finds that all of the rooms he can see have changed considerably since he last visited. He pauses, jaw feeling slack with surprise as he takes it all in. The room to his left that used to be a livingroom is now filled with desks and chairs and what used to be a guestroom across the hall now has new floor to ceiling shelves with books stacked along them.
“What happened in here? Where’s Tony?”
“Mr Stark is finishing up dinner. He should be in the kitchen.”
“Finishing up dinner? Are you sure you’re thinking of the same Tony?”
Jarvis offers up a small smile and turns to shut the door finally.
“You are obviously doing something right, Mr Rogers.”
Steve ducks his head and can’t keep the grin off his face.
“I’ll, um, just go find him then,” he mumbles, moving in the direction of the kitchen, leaving Jarvis to chuckle quietly behind him.
Tony looks frazzled to say the least. His hair is in disarray and his sleeves are scrunched up haphazardly around his elbows. Steve doesn’t even try to stop himself from laughing and Tony startles slightly, suddenly realising Steve’s there. It doesn’t take long for him to smile when he sees Steve, though, and he waves Steve towards the table which is already set for two, an array of plates laid out with food piled high.
“Feeding the five thousand tonight?” Steve asks, taking a seat and watching Tony flit around the kitchen, clearly looking for something. Everything already seems to be present and counted for, but what Tony eventually ahas over, is an envelope, which he sets in front of Steve with a pleased expression on his face. “Did you cook all of this?”
Tony lifts an eyebrow and leans in to kiss Steve quickly. He slides into the chair opposite and starts pouring them both glasses of water.
“Are you kidding? I ordered in and just had to heat everything up.”
It’s a step in the right direction at least.
“Have a little trouble?”
“I don’t want to hear it. Go ahead and open that,” he says gesturing to the envelope and it’s a good distraction tactic because Steve is too curious to continue arguing.
He picks it up and keeps his gaze on Tony while he opens it, watching the excitement spread across his face.
“Has this got anything to do with what you’re up to?”
“Maybe,” Tony responds, enigmatically.
Steve pulls out two pages stapled together that look more than a little official. His eyes scan the paper and his eyebrows head for his hairline.
“Tony,” he says, entirely speechless, but Tony just nods for him to continue. Steve flips the page, but doesn’t have to see more to know what Tony has done. “You’re turning this place into a school?”
Tony waves his hand.
“A learning center. Kids can come here if they need extra help or just want to hang out, and I’m thinking later I might try to open up boarding for kids who, y’know, need some place to call home.”
Steve didn’t know Tony’s heart could get any bigger, but he’s proven him entirely wrong.
“What made you want to do this?”
Tony shrugs casually and starts pilling pan-fried noodles onto his plate.
“Well, this place wasn’t doing anything, so why not? Jarvis can totally help out and we’ve already found some other staff to assist. It’s set to open next week.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Steve says honestly, grabbing Tony’s hand as he reaches for some chicken, holding it and squeezing gently. “This is big.”
“Yeah, well, apparently I like big things, so it shouldn’t be that much of a surprise.”
He winks at Steve and Steve snorts.
“Can you be serious for two seconds?”
Tony links their fingers together and stares at their connected hands.
“This place is no good collecting dust. I think this is a good way to keep moving forwards. Plus, if you want to quit your boring day job, you’re totally welcome here.”
It’s doubtful, but Steve appreciates the offer nonetheless. Steve traces his thumb over Tony’s knuckles and knows he’s done for.
“I think I love you,” he says and Tony pauses for just a moment before tugging Steve to meet him halfway across the table in a soft kiss.
“So what am I so afraid of?” Tony sings back quietly and Steve gently pushes him back into his seat.
“You’re insufferable.”
Tony grins, gives Steve’s hand one last squeeze, and then digs his fork into his dinner and begins eating. Steve watches him just a second longer with a warmth in his chest blazing away, and then reaches for the rice.
*
The learning center does well. Really well. As in, so well they have to hire more staff within two weeks of opening. It becomes almost a second home for Steve, who occasionally helps on his days off, but Tony seems to love every second of it. It’s chaotic and tiring, but so, so worth it for the happiness it brings into Tony’s life.
On an evening after closing, Steve slouches back into one of the chairs that’s two sizes too small and watches Tony clear up workbooks and pens and pencils.
“Is it as good as you thought it would be?” he asks and Tony briefly glances over.
“What do you think?”
Steve grins and beckons him with an index finger. Tony dips just low enough for his breath to graze over Steve’s mouth, but he doesn’t move any closer.
“If you break that chair, you’re paying for a new one.”
Steve makes a thoughtful face.
“And if I can’t afford it?”
The grin Tony shoots him is entirely predatory.
“I’m sure we can think of a few ways for you to pay off your debt.”