Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Three days had passed since Steve’s incident on the hella-carrier. Three days had passed since he had moved into Avengers Tower with Bucky. And, three days had passed since Steve had met Tony Stark.

He wouldn’t have bothered counting the last one if it wasn’t for the fact that the man was always on his mind.

Steve had hoped he would see Stark again after their last encounter. Especially since he was staying in the man’s home. But, it wasn’t to be. The soldier had only heard whispers of the the elusive Tony Stark around the tower. Like he was a phantom people were afraid to talk about in case he actually showed up. That was the point, though. Steve wanted him to show up.

Tony Stark had intrigued Steve in a way he hadn’t been expecting. The man was clever, and witty, and wasn’t afraid of Steve like everyone else in his life was. Maybe that made the genius stupid, Steve was dangerous, but it made for one interesting person.

And fucking gorgeous , a voice in his head helpfully added.

Steve grumbled, it was too early in the day for that type of thinking. The super soldier had just woken to go for the morning run he took with Bucky. His friend was getting dressed while Steve went to the kitchen to make the pair breakfast. It was a routine the two had fallen into and Steve couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed it. Who knew consistency and structure in someone’s life might actually be helpful.

Though, a little unpredictability made life fun . Which was what Steve was about to encounter.

The super soldier made the familiar trek into the kitchen...only to be stopped in his tracks.

Leaning against the counter, with nothing on but a bathrobe and boxers, was a disgruntled looking Tony Stark sipping on a steaming cup of coffee. Something curled in Steve’s gut. Something that felt a lot like possessiveness. Which was absolutely ridiculous. He barely even knew the man, he certainly didn’t have the right to stake a claim.

If only he could tell the illogical part of his mind that.

Or the growing hardness in his pants.

Tony’s eyes ventured to the intruder in his home, the shadowed figure in the corner of his eye finally catching his attention. But, instead of getting flustered or nervous, the man merely nodded a greeting.

“Rogers,” he said.

To which Steve answered, “Stark.”

The super soldier took a deep breath in to compose himself before stepping further into the room to continue with his morning.

Finding a pan and food from the fridge to make two omelettes, he tried to ignore the other presence in the small space in an attempt at normality.

But, he couldn’t deny his wandering eyes.

Tony just looked so good. Steve wanted to peel the bathrobe open to reveal his full torso and leave love bites all over his chest and neck until the man was dizzy with desire.

“Take a picture Rogers, it’ll last longer,” Tony commented, making Steve curse internally. What good was being a spy if he couldn’t even sneak a peak of his current sexual fantasy.

“Also, your breakfast is burning,” Tony added, going to get more coffee from the machine.

Steve cursed for real this time finally noticing the char on the eggs and the smell that was invading the kitchen. He turned the burner off and threw the food out before trying again.

He was adamant about staying focused this time. The interest he had for the genius was nothing worth losing good food over.

That was, until Tony hopped up onto the counter beside him, sipping happily on coffee once again. The man moaned at the taste, making Steve’s blood sizzle hotly.

The super soldier’s mind flooded with a dozen different scenarios, all of which included himself and hearing that delicious noise coming from Tony’s mouth again and again.

He only managed to gain control of himself once more when he realized he was squeezing the handle of the frying pan so tightly there were dents where his fingers lay.

“So, have you enjoyed your stay here? Found something you like?” Tony asked innocently enough, though Steve wasn’t fool enough to believe him at his word. Even with how little the soldier understood about his landlord, he knew the man was a mystery. One Steve was only beginning to scrape the top of in its depth.

The super soldier was a rookie when it came to dealing with the genius, and all rookies made mistakes.

Steve was about to make a big one.

The soldier made the error of looking into Tony’s big, dark eyes, and reaped the consequences. With only one enchanting glance, Steve lost his hold on common sense, and answered the question.

“The gym is good,” he managed to get out without making a fool of himself. He felt like he was falling over a cliff’s edge he had been teetering on for so long, and finding he didn’t have a safety net underneath.

Steve was already addicted.

“That’s it, that’s all you do?” Tony questioned, making sure Steve noticed the way his eyes went up and down the super soldier's body appreciatively before making eye contact again.

“Well,” Steve said, mouth dry as he weighed the consequences of what he was about to say against the rewards.

He flipped his omelet.

“There is something i’d like to do, if you’re offering, Mr. Stark.”

The world seemed to stop.

Steve knew immediately he said something wrong.

The atmosphere shattered like a broken window, leaving the room cold as a harsh breeze blew in.

Tony was frozen on the counter. The candle that had been burning so brightly in the man’s eyes went out with one soft exhale of breath from one word to the next.

Steve put down his spatula, tempted to question the man’s well being, before Tony seemed to come back to life. Like a wind up toy coiled to the brink once again.

The genius jumped down from the counter and pulled his bathrobe closed. Steve watched, confused as the man eyed his surroundings nervously. Though, Steve was almost positive it wasn’t because of him.

“Did I say something-”

“Nope,” Tony cut, in far too cheerful to be real, “No, you did nothing wrong, but I have to go and...work. Lots of projects, not enough time.”

The excuse was flimsy at best and they both knew it. But, Stark didn’t stick around to acknowledge the lie. With a general nod in Steve’s direction the man hightailed it out of there before any more harm could be done.

Steve watched him go, confused on where things went wrong. He thought he had picked up on what Tony was, pretty obviously, putting down. But, he could have misread the situation.

Even if it had never happened before.

Steve shook his head prepared to put it all behind him, like Tony had. He could easily get over the stupid infatuation that was fueled by lust alone.

He just hoped he hadn’t completely ruined his relationship with Mr. Stark. He found that he longed for the man to be his...friend. Which was strange.

Steve turned back to his food only to find it, once again, burned to a crisp.

“Goddammit!”

Chapter Text

A week had passed since Steve’s initial awkward interaction with Mr. Stark. They hadn't spoken since, and had strategically avoided each other whenever the situation called for it.

If Steve was in a room, Tony would claim he had projects to work on in his lab. If Steve entered a space Tony was in, he had immediately forgotten something in the gym.

It was a tiring game they played, but Steve had faith that eventually the awkwardness would pass.

For now, he would live with the tension if only so he could get out on the other side.

Except, when was anything ever that simple.

Against Fury’s orders, Bucky had taken Steve along on the Avenger’s latest mission.

At first, Steve was worried, that he would slip into a headspace he didn’t want to go to ever again. The director of SHIELD wasn’t wrong, he was an unpredictable variable at best.

But, Bucky had faith, and the mission had gone fine. Better than fine actually. Steve wouldn’t deny he missed the adrenaline that rushed through him from a good fight, or the ease he felt falling into the role of a trained super spy. It was good, and Steve looked forward to being an unofficial member of the Avengers whenever they needed him. However, the gig didn’t come without setbacks.

During the mission Steve had gotten into a heated fight with a man worthy of the soldier’s praise. Steve had won, obviously, however he hadn’t gotten away unscathed. Ever since the fight, the wires in his arm had kinked and were sending shooting pains up to his shoulder whenever he moved.

Steve didn’t know what to do. He didn’t trust any doctors to look at it, especially since his introduction to SHIELD. Nor did he want to be a hassle by bringing it up to Bucky who would worry himself sick knowing Steve was in pain. So he did what he did best, he repressed it in hopes it would straighten itself out.

He was adamant that his plan would have worked out well, too, until Bucky had insisted they spar.

The super soldier had avoided the gym up until that point, but turning down a direct invitation would raise suspicion.

He agreed.

And, had been taken down in less than five minutes.

Bucky had flipped out. As Steve predicted, his friend went into complete mother hen mode, and was currently worrying himself to death. The Captain forced Steve to sit down while he put ice packs over the pain (though they both know it did nothing to help) and chastised him for hiding the injury.

Steve hadn’t said a word against him, knowing in the back of his mind that Bucky was right. He would take his punishment, as it was deserved. But, when Barnes calmed down enough to suggest Steve see a doctor, he reared up.

No way was he going to medical. He wasn't ready to repeat that trauma, he didn’t think he ever would be.

When Bucky had realized how serious Steve was about not seeing a professional, another idea came to him. One Barnes wouldn’t let him refuse.

That was how Steve had been forced down to Tony’s workshop at nine o’clock at night to have the man fix his arm.

~~~~~

“Bucky I swear to god if you don’t let me go right now I’ll-”

“What, what will you do Steve? You can’t even move your arm without wincing, never mind use it to fight me. I’m not letting you get out of this,” Bucky snapped as he guided Steve down the stairs with his arm around the blond’s shoulders.

The glass doors to Tony’s workshop where getting closer and closer until Steve could make out the man himself from within. He looked devastatingly handsome so immersed in his element. His muscles bulging as he hammered away on a piece of metal, the plain tank top he was in made Steve want to peel it off to reveal what was underneath in the nastiest way possible. But, he quickly dismissed the fantasies from his head. He would not have a boner when he saw Tony. Not for a second time.

“Besides,” Bucky continued, oblivious to the crisis Steve was living, “I thought you felt comfortable with Tony.”

That caught Steve’s attention. The way Bucky said it, like he knew Tony was better for Steve that he was. And, even though it hurt him, he would step back if it made Steve happy.

Except, that just wasn’t true.

Sure, Tony treated him like a normal human and Steve appreciated it to no end. But, that didn’t mean he didn’t value Bucky just as much. Bucky was his...brother. And he only wanted to help. Which was why Steve finally stopped resisting the man’s insisting.

“I do,” Steve said, knowing it wasn't as much of a lie as he was making it seem.

“Good,” Bucky replied cheerfully, like he had gotten one over Steve...wait, “maybe now the two of you can stop avoiding each other and have a proper grown up conversation like the two of you are...sometimes,” he said to a bewildered Steve before pushing him through the door. When Steve turned around to chew his friend out, Bucky was gone.

“Bastard,” Steve mumbled far too fondly. However, he wasn't the only one who heard.

“I’m offended truly,” Tony Stark said from behind him, “You’ve been in my workshop not five seconds and you’re criticizing me.”

Steve took a gulp of air, begging to any being in the sky to give him strength for what he was about to walk into. When the super soldier finally turned around he was met with slicked back hair and a smirk that made his knees go weak. A string of curse words sat on the tip of his tongue.

“I was talking to Bucky,” Steve said, trying to defend himself, though he knew Tony wasn’t offended to begin with.

“I know,” Stark replied, wiping his hands off on a grease stained towel, it seemed he was bent on ignoring the fact that they hadn’t spoken all week. Which Steve was perfectly ok with.

“Cap had Jarvis tell me what was going on, so I know the situation. Can’t believe you kept it from him this long, he’s anal retentive when it comes to you. Anyway, come sit down so I can have a look.”

Steve found himself relaxing as Tony spoke quicker then a whirlwind. He had forgotten how nice it was to be in the company of the man, and realized he had sorely missed it in their week apart. However, as soon as the genius reminded Steve of the reason he was down here, he tensed up.

Unconsciously, he took a step back and must of looked like he was about to bolt because Tony frowned.

“Hey, none of that big guy,” the genius said, “I’m not going to hurt you, Steve. I promise. We can just talk for a while first if you want. I’m not going to do anything you don’t feel comfortable with.”

Rationally Steve understood that, but his instincts were telling him to run. His heart was pumping wildly, and his palm was sweaty. Tony slowly made his way over to the super soldier, so as not to startle him, and took the man’s hand in between his own.

“Hey, it’s ok. I get it,” Stark said, pulling the neck of his shirt down to reveal a tangle of raised flesh.

Bucky had told him about all the Avengers, and important things to know about them. The arc reactor had been present in the conversation. But, Steve had never seen the full impact of it until now.

“Just come talk with me for a bit, ok?”

Steve found himself nodding, losing himself in the feel of Tony’s hand in his and the man’s eyes finding contact with his own. Tony fixed his shirt and brought Steve to a stool set up next to his work station. He waited for the soldier to sit before letting their hands fall apart.

The silence stretched as each man waited for the other to say something. It was a sudden reminder of how little they truly knew about each other. Though, if Steve was honest, it felt like he had known Tony a lifetime and then some.

The super soldier took the initiative, and asked the question that had been simmering in the back of his mind.

“What...happened?” He was blunt. He didn’t know how to be anything but. Yet, as Tony glanced down to the intricate web of scars on his chest, that had once housed his life source, there was a small, humorous smile on his lips.

“Well,” Tony said rubbing his hands on his pants, a nervous habit, “Lets just say, someone I trusted tried to…”

He mimicked a twisting and pulling motion around the circle of disfigurement, “...it almost killed me. After that I didn’t let anyone touch it until I could figure out a way to remove it.”

Steve sat, processing the information.

“I’m sorry it happened,” he replied, and meant it. Some people said sorry simply to fill the space left by trauma without really understanding what it meant. Steve understood. Steve was truly sorry Tony had to live through it. And, the genius smiled like he knew.

“Me too,” Tony said. Steve felt better after that, his nerves had dissipated hearing the story. He felt closer to Tony somehow, and grateful the man had chosen to trust him with the information.

“Well, Mr. Stark,” Steve said, “I do believe I came down to get some medical attention.”

Tony froze. Just like he had a week ago in the kitchens.

His eyes dissociating like he was there, but he wasn’t. And, in the span of time it took Steve to realize what was happening, he jerked back into himself a false smile making its way onto his lips.

“Of course,” Tony smiled, cutting Steve off before he could start, “If you’d just hold out your arm…”

Chapter Text

Tony had been stiff, and quiet the rest of Steve’s visit.

Though the soldier chalked most of the silence up to Tony performing surgery on Steve’s arm.

The wire’s in the prosthetic connected to his nervous system, and Tony had to be incredibly careful how he moved them, in fear of paralyzingly the soldier.

However, when he was done, Steve’s arm had never felt better. He thanked Stark who smiled a plastic grin as his only answer. Steve, starting to feel uncomfortable in the situation, had made to take his leave. Preparing himself for another tension filled week of avoidance, when Tony stopped him.

“You can come down anytime, Steve. If...if you want. It can get lonely... sometimes.”

It was the most normal the man had sounded the entire night, and Steve wouldn't deny the relief that flooded him.

“We can’t have that can we,” he responded, knowing the genius would take the answer for what it was. A yes.

However, Steve still had a problem. What had he said that made Tony freak out, twice now? What had he done to make the man so uncomfortable? He needed to know. Not just to settle his curiosity, but to make sure he never did it again.

~~~~~

The super soldier was lounging at a bar, wearing a fancy suit, and watching the man on his mind making his way through the ballroom, seducing people with a single glance. The Avengers had finally decided to make Steve a full member of the team, seeing as he had really become one ages ago.

Fury hadn’t been keen to the idea, but with Stark’s persuasion methods, the director had approved.

As long as they held a gala so people in the community could get to meet him.

What that actually meant was so that rich, snobby millionaires could be assured Steve wasn’t a raging lunatic, despite what the press loved to print about him.

Tony had taken to his role easily, like he had slipped on a second skin that Steve honestly wasn't too fond of. Stark seemed fake, like a mask had been put over his face. So, even though he looked, sounded, and charmed people as Tony did so naturally, it wasn’t him. It wasn’t the man Steve had grown to care about. The one with snippy, sarcastic replies that made him smile, or the one who was closer to a zombie then a human in the morning without his coffee. This wasn’t the man Steve knew, and he didn't like it. No matter how necessary everyone assured him it was.

“Dude, your staring is creeping people out,” a voice from behind him spoke. Steve had heard the familiar footsteps approach, and wasn’t startled. He gulped back the rest of the liquor, that wouldn’t affect him in the slightest, before turning to his friend.

“Clint,” Steve grunted in a form of greeting.

The archer had already ordered a glass and was started to sip on champagne by the time his name had left the super soldier's mouth.

“I’m serious,” Clint said with a glint of humor in his eyes, “You’re going to scare all the assholes here and then Fury will never let you join the team. They’re going to complain ‘the newest avenger doesn’t put up with our bullshit what are we going to do’.”

Steve let out a snort at that, not able to hold back a small smile. Clint grinned back happily, glad he had successfully gotten the soldier out of his own head.

“Seriously, what's up with you. I know you’re not exactly a people person but you’ve been sitting over here watching Stark the entire time. Like he’s your next prey or something.”

The words sat uneasily in Steve’s stomach, “I’m not going to eat him, Clint. I’m just making sure-”

“Who isn’t being eaten? Pray tell it isn’t me,” came the voice of Steve’s desires. He had lost track of Tony in the crowd and hadn’t noticed him sneaking up until he spoke. It was dangerous, Steve could have said something he wouldn’t have been able to take back.

The man spun around to face Tony. His face was red with embarrassment, and he was awkward at best. Mortifyingly obvious at worst.

Tony gave him an odd look that didn’t make him feel any better about the situation. Figuring he had already dug himself the grave, he might as well lay in it.

Steve sat forward to shake Tony’s hand. Which was awkward in itself without Steve overestimating the distance between them.

As the super soldier reached over to make contact, his drink went flying out of his hand and all over Tony’s suit. Staining pure white, dark red.

“Shit,” Steve cursed, trying to ignore the barely muffled laughter from behind him. Damn Clint. Steve put his glass down and grabbed a napkin sitting on the counter. Frantically, he started dabbing at Tony’s shirt, trying to ignore the addicting feeling of hard muscle under his hands.

Tony was reaching for towels too, now that he had gotten over the shock.

“Really Steve it’s fine. You don’t have to do that. In fact, this gives me an excuse to leave early-”

“No it’s my fault I should help-”

“Rogers, it’s fine. I have more suits at hom-”

“Mr. Stark, please,” Steve insisted.

And, oh no.

Tony froze.

Just as he had two times previous. He seemed to get lost in his own mind, not even aware of what was happening around him. And then, just like before, he came back to himself with a too cheery smile on his lips, and beautiful lies on his tongue.

Steve was going to scream.

What had he done! What had he done to set Tony off. For the life of him he couldn't figure out what it was.

Tony stepped away from Steve altogether, a sultry, playful smirk on his face.

“If you don’t mind me, I'll be leaving now. I’ll see you both at the tower.”

Tony spun un his heel and exited the situation before Steve could get a word on. Leaving the super soldier confused, and desperate for answers.

“Ok, what just happened?” Clint asked from behind Steve where he continued to sip on his drink.

Steve merely shrugged, ready to go home.

“If only I knew.”

Chapter Text

Two days had passed since the latest, what Steve was starting to refer to as, Incidents. But, the pair’s relationship was already back on stable footing. Both men were set on ignoring the problem until it was erased from existence.

Which worked fine for the two of them. It made being around each other much easier.

In fact, Steve and Tony often found themselves in the other’s company, especially when the need for a physical presence was strong.

Sometimes they would talk and snark back and forth with each other as if they had been doing it for years. Other times, the simple reassurance of someone else being present helped the darkness that claimed both their minds.

Tonight was one of those times.

Steve was still sweating and shaking from his trip to the gym at…

Three o’clock in the morning.

He groaned when he realized the time, not meaning to stay up for so long. But, Steve couldn’t help it.

His thoughts had been running wild as soon as his head hit the pillow. Guilt and anger ate away at him until he couldn't take it anymore. He had to do something to get the noise in his head to finally be quiet.

He was sweaty and gross now, but knew a shower would have to wait. Especially when he noticed an oddity in the hall that led to Tony’s workshop.

Down the stairs into the genius’s haven, a light illuminated the walls. It wasn’t enough of a glow to fill the entire hallway, he doubted it was enough to light the entire workshop.

It was similar to the lamps his mother used to have. Dim, and flickering, like the bulb was about to give out any minute.

Panic built in Steve’s throat.

All of a sudden, the soldier felt like he had been transported back to the forties, where there was one certainty on his mind.

The light couldn’t go out.

It was an understanding ingrained in him ever since he could remember. The bulb couldn't go out, because then it would be dark and cold and the pain in his lungs would be so much worse. The bulb couldn't go out because Steve didn’t know when they would be able to get another one. The bulb couldn't go out because he couldn’t bare to see his mother and Bucky sink into a place Steve couldn't reach them.

He had to conserve the light.

Without thinking things through, Steve barreled down the stairs to the glass doors. The entrance opened automatically for the super soldier, and Steve rushed in.

He didn’t have to go far to find where the dying lightbulb was located. To the far left was the flickering lamp, lighting up the work table. Sitting at the work table was Tony Stark.

Steve’s senses snapped back to the present.

Stark seemed to be his sedative that way.

Slowly, but surely, the tension in the soldier’s body eased as he took in Tony’s appearance. A t-shirt, that didn’t cover the burns on his arms from welding torches, hugged his torso while sweatpants hung dangerously low on his hips. Steve noticed how the pencil in the man’s hand kept slipping from his grip every time his eyes drooped with exhaustion. Like he was about to fall asleep where he stood, but was trying desperately not to.

Steve’s previous intent was all but gone from his mind as he moved, silently, to the genius at the table so as not to startle him. Now that Steve had come back to himself, the sight in front of him made the hair on his arms stand on edge.

Tony’s workshop had turned into a junkyard.

No, a graveyard.

A graveyard of twisted iron pieces, and twitching electric wires. Swaying metal structures that resembled arms sparked and glitched every few seconds, as if they were the hands of the dead itching to grab hold of something living. The shadows caused by the goddamn lightbulb reminding Steve of a yellow moon in a dark night. And in the center of it all, the mad genius himself.

Steve didn’t like it. In fact he hated it. He hated that Tony was in the middle of all this chaos and how it was so clearly effecting him. Smashed coffee mugs and scattered papers littered the floor like the man had lost his temper and trashed it all.

Steve didn’t want Tony to stress, though it seemed he was too late. He didn’t like that the man was forcing himself awake to meet some unknown quota for anyone but himself. He needed rest, and Steve was going to make damn sure he got it.

“Stark,” Steve whispered, carefully reaching his human hand out to brush the man’s wrist. The skin underneath was shaking due to all the coffee the man had undoubtedly consumed.

Tony’s head cracked to the side, a yelp pulled from his throat. The super soldier stepped back, arms up in a gesture of peace. But, Tony still looked lost now that he had been startled out of his own little world. The genius’s eyes were bloodshot and dancing from corner to corner, resembling a caged rabbit. He face was ashen, the wear of stress, and anxiety had clearly taken their toll. He looked miserable. And, it only strengthened Steve’s resolve.

“Steve?” Tony whispered, sounding much younger then he was.

“Stark, you have to get to bed,” Steve insisted reaching to take hold of his elbow. Trying, gingerly, to heard him to the door, “It’s late, you’re clearly exhausted. Let’s get you-”

“No,” Tony cut in frantically, trying to pull out of Steve’s grasp, but the soldier wouldn’t let him go for his own good, “Pepper has me doing all different kinds of work for Stark Industries, but nothing's coming out right. And-and you guys need new tech I promised ages ago. Not to mention, Fury’s been on my ass for-”

Steve took Tony by the shoulders, staring deeply into the man’s frantic gaze, “Doll, stop.”

The pet name slipped from Steve’s lips without a thought, but he didn't pay it too much mind when Tony’s attention finally snapped on him. He wasn’t going to waste it.

“You’ve been cooped up down here for days without getting much sleep if your appearance is anything to go by. Stark Industries will survive with you being gone for eight hours. You promised the Avengers new tech only yesterday, no one’s expecting upgrades tomorrow. Or in the next week even. And Fury can stick whatever nonsense he’s been pestering you about up his ass, got it?”

Tony’s eyes were big and child like as he listened to Steve. He had needed this, Steve realized somberly. Tony had needed someone to come and shut him down for a while, because he couldn’t do it on his own. He needed someone to take care of him, while he was taking care of everyone else. Steve wanted to be that person, and the thought only grew more insistent when Tony seemed to accept Steve’s help and collapsed into his arms.

The super soldier caught Tony easily, delighting in the feeling of the smaller man pressed up against him. The smell of grease and coffee wafted from where Steve pressed his nose to the man’s hair. He breathed it in, content with the genius next to him.

“There you go,” Steve mumbled, surprising himself with how easy he fell into this role. Normally, his friends were doing this to him. Taking care of him, which Steve appreciated. But, this was what Steve knew he was meant to do. Take care of other people. And he promised that he would do just that for Tony, because the man was starting to worm his way into the super soldier’s heart and there was nothing he could do for it.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Steve said again as he picked Stark up in his arms and headed for the exit. The genius grumbled and snuggled deeper into Steve’s chest, already drifting off to sleep.

~~~~~

Steve gently lay Tony down on his own bed.

He hadn’t known where Stark’s room was and didn’t want to ask Jarvis in fear of waking the sleeping bundle in his arms. So he cut his losses, seeing as he wasn’t sleeping anytime soon, and gave Tony what was his to begin with.

The picture in front of Steve made him want to...draw it. Which was a weird thought. He couldn’t remember ever being an artist, but the man in front of him deserved to be drawn for the world to see. Well, maybe just for Steve to see.

Stark looked far too good under the soldier’s sheets than should be allowed. But, Tony had always been bent on proving the world wrong.

The soldier gently pulled the duvet over Tony’s body. In his sleep, Stark looked so tiny, and innocent. Not worried with the obligations that plagued him during the day. Like he was finally at peace. Steve wished he could always be how he was now, happy. He wished he could be the one to make Stark happy.

And, with that thought it was time for Steve to leave or he might do something he regretted. Like get into bed with the man and snuggle with him the rest of the night.

The super soldier turned to walk away, when a hand grabbed his arm. His metal arm. Steve was frozen waiting for the touch to pull away in disgust, but the rejection never came.

“Stay,” said the sleepy voice of Tony Stark. A hurt peirced Steve’s heart.

“I can’t,” the soldier said regretfully. He wouldn’t take advantage of Tony, not when he was as vulnerable as he already was.

“Please,” Tony called, even as Steve had made it to the door.

Steve wanted to stay, god how he wanted to stay and hold the beautiful man until they were both content. But, he was better than that.

“Goodnight Mr. Stark,” Steve whispered mournfully as the click of the handle sounded.

Steve walked away, trying to forget the frown that formed on Tony’s face as the door closed.

Chapter Text

It hadn’t been their best mission.

Innocent people had died, too many of them, and if it hadn’t been for Doctor Strange's help a lot more would have gone down, too.

This wasn’t like them. The Avengers had been completely off their game. With the Hulk smashing a little more than necessary. And Cap getting caught underneath rubble for the majority of the battle. Clint accidentally shot an arrow that tore through the flesh of Natasha’s thigh, who had murder in her eyes.

Steve, Tony, and Thor had been left to take care of most of the work, but even they couldn’t hold off all of the monsters that were intent on destroying the city (because of course they were, when were monsters NOT intent on destroying the city).

But, the real kicker was when Bucky, who couldn't even see the battlefield, had ordered Tony to go further away from a hidden bomb that was on its last few seconds.

Children. Adults. Elderly. All had been caught up in the blast.

And Tony Stark blamed himself.

It was ridiculous, Steve thought as the Avengers, bloody and bruised and exhausted stumbled into the tower. None of this was Tony’s fault, but the man had the tendency to hold the weight of the world on his shoulders, and wouldn’t let anyone else shoulder the burden.

Steve’s friends parted with grunts to their own quarters, all of them needing to recover after the slaughter they witnessed. Their job was to protect, but they had been absolutely pummeled today. The cost of being a superhero wasn’t easy, even if it was necessary.

Steve watched his friends disperse, scanning the room for one person in particular. The one person who was trying to escape faster than anyone.

But, Steve wouldn’t let him.

Like hell was he going to let Tony lock himself away and drink himself into a coma. They had lost enough today, Steve wouldn’t lose him too.

“Stark,” Steve called out before the man got too far. Iron Man halted where he stood, not able to bring himself to turn his back on Steve. Not having the energy to put up a face for his friend.

Except, Steve didn’t want a mask, he wanted the real man. The one that was broken and bruised but pushed on anyway. That Tony Stark was the one Steve wanted. They had been through too much together for Steve not to demand it from him, anyway.

“Rogers, I-I can’t right now-”

“Stop,” Steve ordered, laying a tentative hand on the man’s shoulder. Tony froze for only a moment before relaxing into the touch.

“Turn around,” Steve said again, this time as more of a request then a demand. With a heavy sigh, Tony faced the super soldier. His shoulders were heavy with tension, and Steve wanted to force him down and relax him until it stopped. But, he couldn’t, not yet anyway.

“I saw what happened today,” Steve said, his tongue tying. Tony jerked from his hand, horror and pain written in his eyes. Steve had fucked up.

“You did, did you?” Tony snarled, “You don’t have to tell me, I already know. I know I screwed up, Rogers. I know. Dozens of lives would have been saved if I had just gone the other way. Why did I even listen to Bucky, when he couldn’t accurately give out orders? If I had just flown a little farther into rang, Jarvis would have detected the bomb and I could have stopped it before-”

“No you couldn’t have,” Steve blurted, it was the truth, and he couldn't understand why Tony didn’t see it. Tony’s lip curled but he didn't say anything, it was Steve’s go ahead to continue. And, when he did he found he couldn’t stop, “that bomb was going to go off one way or another. There was nothing you could have done. The only difference that would have been made if you had flown into blasting range would be one more tally on the list of dead bodies. Sorry that I can’t feel apologetic for that,” the last part came out sarcastically. Something Steve had learned from the man in front on him.

Tony clenched his hands into fists head shaking as he turned to walk away from Steve. Not able to tolerate the truth when guilt was still eating him alive. Steve slumped, hating that he could only seem to watch from the other side of a mirror as Tony beat himself up.

“Mr. Stark, please,” he begged the man to listen to him, to understand that there was nothing he could have done. But, Steve had finally gone too far.

And, Tony froze.

Except this time, when he came out of whatever place his mind took him to when Steve said something wrong, there were no pseudo niceties. Oh no, fire raged inside the man and Steve found himself on the receiving end.

“Shut up, Steve. Just shut up! Maybe you aren’t used to taking responsibility for your actions, but some of us don’t get the ‘brainwashed by Hydra’ excuse when we do something wrong. We have to take the blame and learn how to deal with it. People died because I was too stupid to think quicker. You don’t get to decide differently, so leave me alone Rogers.”

Steve didn’t have time to get over the shock he felt as Tony stormed away.

But, maybe it was for the better. Steve didn’t think he had the strength to pull him back.

Chapter Text

“So you don’t like being called Mr. Stark,” was the way Steve decided to make his presence known to the genius.

Tony jumped from his seat on the couch where he was mindlessly watching the replay of the events from just hours ago. The news wasn’t outwardly blaming the Avengers for all the casualties, but there was some heavy implication, especially on Tony.

Which was where it always seemed to be whether something was his fault or not.

“Shit, Steve,” Tony said clutching at his chest where his heart felt like it was going explode from behind his ribs, “give a guy some warning next time, would you?”

The genius was still tense, and snarky in an effort of self defense, and Steve would have left him alone if it wasn’t for the man shutting the T.V off and slumping back into the couch. Steve took the silent invitation as a positive, and sat next to his friend.

Their thighs almost touched as Steve looked at the side of Tony’s face. There were bags under his eyes, and his frown lines were prominent. It looked like Tony had lost the life that shone so brightly in him, that had drawn Steve to him in the first place.

It was hidden under the darkness that engulfed him, and Steve would do anything to get it back.

“Why are you staring at me?” Tony finally asked, none of his usual hidden innuendos in the question. Steve averted his eyes, but answered honestly.

“You look like you need this,” Steve replied, handing a steaming cup of coffee to the man. Tony had been eyeing it hungrily for a while now, and quickly snatched it from the soldier’s hands. Steve smiled, glad Tony had appetite enough to want sustenance, even if it was only caffeine.

“You could say that,” Tony mumbled before taking a sip. Steve didn’t have time to stop him before he hissed in pain and withdrew his mouth from the mug.

“It’s...well, it’s hot,” Steve said lamely, bringing his metal arm up to scratch the back of his head.

“I hadn’t noticed,” Tony replied with his usual snark that made something ease in Steve’s chest. It only took a moment for the genius to revert back into himself, but Steve counted it as a win.

“Why are you here?” Tony finally asked, “If it's for what I said before, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it, I never mean anything I say when I get like that so just ignore whatever shit comes out of my-”

“That’s not why I’m here,” Steve cut in, before Tony managed to talk himself out of the conversation that Steve was determined they had, “Besides, I know all that already.”

Tony stopped sipping from the mug to stare cripticly at the super soldier, who just shrugged.

“You try and chase people away when you’re scared, or sad, or angry. So you snap at them until they give up. It's a defense mechanism, i’m well versed in those. Besides, nothing you could do would ever come close to what I’ve already been through. You can’t chase me away.”

Tony winced, feeling properly chastised. He had acted like a dick, and truly did feel sorry about it. Steve didn’t deserve his problems on top of all the ones the man himself had.

“Well, why are you here then,” Tony asked, trying to sound nonchalant, but in truth he felt raw and exposed. Steve saw right through him and his bullshit, and Tony didn’t know how to handle it.

Steve was silent for a moment, not sure how to bring up the discussion he wanted to have without scaring Tony away.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me you didn’t like it when I called you Mr. Stark?” Was what he finally decided on. Knowing there was no easy way to say it, and frankly not in the mood to dance around the subject. If there was one thing he learned was that brutal honesty got you places. He wasn’t one to be gentle with problems like these. Though, a stab of guilt hit him when he saw Tony flinch, and go worryingly pale.

“You-you noticed that huh?” He asked, his voice shaking. Tony was practically half way out of his seat, his body stiff and awkward as he yearned to run from the situation.

Steve gently took the mostly empty coffee cup from the man’s shaking hands and set it on the table in front of them before guiding Tony back to the couch. The man went easily enough, resigning himself to what was to come. Knowing it was necessary.

“Yeah, you could say I noticed. I was worried. Sometimes I’d talk to you and you’d freeze, and I didn’t know what to do. It was only just now that it clicked,” Tony flinched at the reference to the insults he had spat at Steve who was being absolutely wonderful to him.

“Tony,” Steve continued, “why didn’t you just tell me?”

It was such an open ended question. Tony didn’t know where to start. He had been bottling up his feelings for so long, suppressing the trauma that it all came out in one gush.

“I didn’t tell you why what, Steve, be specific. Why didn’t I tell you that I hated it when you called me that name? Why didn’t I tell you what caused the hatred of the name? Why I'm so messed up I can’t even hear the name of my father without flinching?”

Tony bit his lip, not meaning to give away so much. Steve on the other hand, was in shock.

“You mean Howard?” The soldier stupidly blurted out, making Tony clasp his hands together so hard Steve wouldn’t be surprised if there was bruising tomorrow.

Steve remembered vague things about Howard Stark. Mainly that he was eccentric, and maybe crazy, but overall a good person. The images he had of the man were still fuzzy, but Steve never thought Howard could be capable of much harm. But, here was living proof of the man’s mistakes. Tony Stark was shaking where he sat, fear overtaking him.

“Yes, Howard,” Tony spat, “I don’t know what you remember of my father Steve, but if it’s good things then you don’t want to hear these stories.”

And, suddenly Steve hated Howard. Because whatever he had done had hurt Tony, and Steve just knew that that was so horribly wrong.

“Tony, tell me.”

Tony looked at Steve, confusion in his eyes. But, Steve held fast not breaking contact or second guessing his choice. And, maybe Tony had needed someone to tell that to him, because he couldn't keep it in anymore. He couldn’t hide anymore, it took too much energy he couldn't give.

“He was an alcoholic,” Tony whispered, irrational fear that Howard would somehow come out from behind a wall and find him, hurt him again even though the man had long since passed, “he’d get drunk so easily and so often, and he’d get so violent. I was five when I first saw him hit my mother. That day I challenged him, a five year old, and he took out the beating on me. My mother tried to stop him, but it was too late. I had made myself a target, and from that day on I was the one who would take the hits.”

Steve felt a sadness creep up on him, surprised at the intensity. He knew what pain was like, he knew what torture was like. He had experienced, seen, and dished it out all before. But, hearing Tony’s story. Picturing a child feeling the impact of a father’s fist made him sick to his stomach.

Steve didn’t call Tony out on it, but his eyes were watering.

“I don’t regret it,” Tony said, “She didn’t deserve to be married to that asshole. I tried to get her to leave him when I was older, but she was afraid. And rightfully so.”

“She should have protected you,” Steve said automatically, not feeling the same sympathy that clearly haunted Tony. The genius’s head snapped to Steve’s, a warning in his eyes.

The thought that what he had gone through was worth it, for his mother, was what had gotten him through so many rough nights when quitting seemed like the best option. If Steve tore that shield down, he didn’t know what he would do. He would be lost, and Tony wasn’t sure he was strong enough to find his way back.

Steve read the man’s expression, seeing the internal torment that still waged war against him. Even after so many years. He recognized that Tony wasn’t ready for all his walls to come crashing down, the super soldier understood the feeling too well. He would back off, but he had his piece to say. And when he had something to say, you’d be damned sure people would listen.

“You didn’t deserve it,” Steve said, stepping his toe into uncharted territory. Tony’s eyes watered with pain, like he wanted to contradict Steve so badly, but the super soldier didn’t give him time, “I don’t care what you’ve made yourself believe all these years. I don’t care what you think is true, because it’s not. You didn’t deserve what...either of them put you through.”

Tony looked away from Steve, seeming to curl in on himself. It was too much, Steve realized sharply. He had overstepped too many boundaries, and had forced Tony back into his shell.

Was he sorry, yes and no. He hated, truly hated (the intensity of the emotion surprising even him) that he had caused Tony to re-live this pain, and abuse that he had tried to rid himself of for so many years. However, he wasn’t sorry he said what he did. Tony didn’t deserve to feel guilty for his parents mistakes...he also didn’t deserve the guilt that came from the battle today.

Just when Steve was about to leave Tony to his thoughts, not thinking he wanted an audience for what he was going through any longer. The genius stopped him.

“You asked me why I didn’t like being called Mr. Stark,” Tony said, reverting back to the original question, “That’s what everyone called him.”

Tony chuckled, though there was no humor to his voice.

“I don’t want to be like him,” Tony said, as Steve returned to his place on the couch, willing to hear the man out for the rest of the night if it made him feel better, “he hurt people without a second thought, he trailed over people, ruined people’s lives to get ahead in life. I don’t want to be like him, but that’s what I did today now isn’t it. I let people die when I could have stopped it.”

Steve took the man’s chin in his hand, his metal hand though neither of them even blinked at it, and forced Tony to look him in the eyes.

“You are nothing like him,” Steve wasn’t good with words, but the ones he said he meant. Tony realized it too, and deflated in Steve’s arms. Feeling as if finally the weight of the world was off his shoulders.

Steve smiled, seeing Tony’s relief running through his body like an electric shock.

“Now,” Steve said, a playful glint in his eye, “I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced yet.”

Stark raised an eyebrow, not sure where Steve was getting at.

“Hello, Tony. My name’s Steve, and it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”