Freeway, Chapter Four (b)
The Stone Series: Part III
Freeway
Chapter Four
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Tony shows up the next morning, dead on his feet.
"Tower's done," he mumbles, shrugging outta his wrinkled suit jacket. It crumbles to the floor. It's probably worth more than Steve's Stark Industries cellphone. "We can move in today. You don't have to live here anymore."
There are heavy, sleepless bruises under his eyes. There's a streak of black on his dress slacks, spattered over his cream-colored button-down. He fumbles unsteadily with his shoes 'til Steve steers him over to the couch.
"Here, let me," he mutters, getting down on one knee. Tony stares dimly at him, then settles back against the cushions. It's weird to have him so quiet. Steve unties his shoes, pulls 'em off one at a time. Peels off Tony's socks, gives his calf a squeeze before standing back up. "Rough night?"
"The roughest," Tony sighs. He touches Steve's wrist. "I didn't make it to the meeting. Pepper was furious. Also tore me a new one about a contract I may or may not have neglected to sign. I had to pull an all-nighter for the prototype."
Steve bends down to unbutton Tony's filthy shirt. He's not sure Tony notices. He thinks about how stupid it is, how Tony's got all this money and can't be bothered to eat or sleep like a regular human.
When Steve fumbles for the zipper around the hem of Tony's slacks, Tony goes still.
"Lift up," Steve says gently.
Tony peers at him blearily through dark lashes. Then, eyes hooded, he braces his body on his elbows and raises his hip enough for Steve to slide his pants off. He loosely kicks them away from his bare ankles, then slides his arms around Steve's neck.
He smells like machine oil, stale cologne, and caffeine. He's warm. "I missed you," he says quietly.
Steve kisses him, 'cause there's no helping it. Tony goes boneless against him. It's so easy. It's this beautiful lie: how they have each other when they don't. How they gotta steal every minute of it.
Tony's down to his undershirt and his boxers, and Steve supposes that'll do. So he hauls Tony off the couch with an arm around his waist and puts him to bed.
"Your turn?" Tony asks, pawing at Steve's shirt, but Steve catches his hand. Presses a quick kiss to his dry knuckles.
"Not right now. Lie down, Tony." He pulls back the sheets.
"Oh," Tony huffs accusingly. "I see what you're doing. You fight dirty, Rogers."
"You're not really trying unless you're trying to cheat." It's different, having someone in your own bed. Seeing Tony with his face buried in Steve's pillow, curled up in the place where Steve sleeps. He's never felt anything like it before.
"I am scandalized," Tony says. "You are destroying my fond childhood memories of the virtuous Captain America. He was a paragon of goodness. He did not lie or steal or take the Lord's name in vain."
"Probably shoulda thought of that before you started sleeping with him," Steve says.
"Speaking of sleeping. And not doing it." Tony leans up a bit, but Steve firmly pushes him back down. "I have a rental truck thing. We need to pack up your stuff. Moving day."
"My lease isn't up," Steve says, wondering if it's parked up on the curb like his sportscar. Tony keeps sneaking his hands out from under the blankets.
"Sure it is," Tony replies. His hands flutter to Steve's neck, his chest. The angle of his jaw. His eyes hold steady on Steve's mouth, dark and hot.
"Unless someone's cancelled my contract without my knowledge or consent," Steve says coolly, grabbing Tony's wrists with gentle fingers, "I know for a fact it ain't."
"Right," Tony says. He looks uncertain. Then he says, "I need to, uh. Make a phone call."
Steve shakes his head. "Don't cause any more trouble." He gently pins Tony's hands above his head.
"Then we should pack," Tony says around a yawn, arching his back a little in a way that makes Steve's belly go hot. "They'll want their moving van back at some point."
"I'll take care of it. You get some rest." He leans down and presses a kiss to Tony's cheek. Except Tony turns his head, opens his mouth.
"I missed you," Tony whispers again, moments or minutes later.
"You said," Steve murmurs back. "I'll wake you up in a couple hours."
"Hey." His eyes are dark and serious. "I'll get better. About calling when I say I will."
"I'm not your boyfriend, Tony." Steve says, standing. "You don't owe me anything."
Alone in his living room, his few worldly possessions packed carefully in brown boxes and stacked in the corner of Tony's moving van, Steve experiences a hollow wave of apathy. It's important, saying goodbye. You don't always get to. But he's not gonna miss this place at all.
Stark Tower isn't Stark Tower anymore. There's a giant A at the top, and some stylistic choices that Steve's almost sure have everything to do with structural reinforcement. When they pull up to the front of the building to unload, there don't seem to be any handles on the doors.
"Like this," Tony says, pressing his hand against a flat, gray panel. The door slides silently open.
"Welcome home, Sir. Captain Rogers." JARVIS, polite as always. The lights go up gradually. "Shall I direct you to your quarters?"
"I can take care of him, Jay," Tony says. "Hold an elevator for us?"
"Of course, Sir."
Steve doesn't have much. Clothes, some books, some art supplies. He's not sure where SHIELD picked up the furniture or appliances, but anyway they weren't his. The only thing Steve really chose to keep is the laptop. It's StarkTech, which means it's probably on lend from Tony.
"Are these gonna be offices?" He asks as they carry boxes into the waiting elevator. It only takes them a few trips.
"Yeah, probably law offices. They'll pay top dollar for the prestige of being associated with Stark Industries and the Avengers." He presses his hand against another gray pad. "And it won't hurt to have legal counsel downstairs. Cap's floor, Jay."
"Certainly," JARVIS replies.
Steve glances at numbers on the console. There's over a hundred floors. And right at the top, in a neat row, are six multi-colored buttons.
"This is us," Tony says before Steve can get a good look. But when he steps into his new home, he forgets all about them.
It's not modern-looking or sterile, it's not made outta glass and metal with hardly any color. Instead, it's warm: lots of dark wood, lots of rich browns and gray-greens. Comfortable-looking furniture. A huge living space that opens up into a visible second level.
Without a word, Steve wanders out onto the oak floorboards.
Tony watches him, but doesn't follow as Steve explores. There are extra rooms on both levels. There's a kitchen when Tony said there wouldn't be. There's a rooftop patio outside a set of sliding glass doors, and full-sized, in-ground swimming pool. There's a library full of books, with a desktop computer and huge, round pillows on the floor. And a lounge. And an overstuffed chair. Next to the computer is one of Tony's tablets, except it's probably for Steve.
On the other side of the floor's a private gym, with all the weights he's used to mixed in with strength-training equipment he's never seen before. There's an indoor track. There's what look to be giant robot punching bags.
When Steve gets to the master bedroom, Tony follows him up.
The room is huge. The bed is huge. The master bathroom's huge. He knows there's high-tech stuff all over the joint, knows Tony wouldn't've been able to stop himself, but it doesn't feel that way. It feels intuitive, maybe a little dated so Steve'll be comfortable. Even if there's too much space for just him, everything he could want is right within reach.
He doesn't know how to thank someone for a gift like this. He feels like he could love it here, in this place Tony made just for him.
Tony touches his elbow, brings him back. "Is it okay?" He asks neutrally.
Steve swallows. "Yeah. It's okay, Tony."
Tony stares at him. "I don't, uh. You really-," he licks his lips. Reaches up and kisses Steve on the mouth, light and quick, barely-there. Then he ducks his head. "You know, I think I've only seen you smile like twice? Three times, max. It's. It looks really good on you. You should do it more."
Steve leans down and kisses him again, much slower. Cradles the back of Tony's skull, slides an arm around his waist.
Tony's gasping by the end of it. "Bed," he murmurs breathlessly. "Surprise for you."
"Shameless," Steve laughs, but Tony shakes his head.
"Really," he grins. "Look."
The comforter set's a rich gold, but Steve doesn't think anything of it 'til he pulls it back. The underside is crimson. Beneath it-
"Tony."
"Hmm?"
"Where did you find Iron Man sheets to fit a king-sized bed." He knows they make superhero sheets for kids, 'cause he's signed off on a couple Captain America products through SHIELD. But people gotta grow up sometime.
"Obviously they are a prototype for what will become a wildly popular product. We all have themed bed sheets."
Or possibly some people never grow up at all. Tony sits down on the bed, spreads his fingers over the fabric. Looks mightily pleased with his work, 'cause he's like a damn kid. "Natasha has Hawkeye sheets and Clint has Widow sheets. Bruce has Iron Man sheets like you," he grins.
"Is this what you were doing all night?" Steve asks. Thinks, Is this why you didn't get any damn sleep?
Tony looks distantly guilty. "No. I was up working on a Stark Industries prototype, like I said this morning. I was working on the Tower yesterday afternoon. Upgrading JARVIS's security protocols, making the beds, installing StarkTunes. All things that had to get done."
"Why didn't you go to the meeting?" Steve asks. He doesn't let Tony pull him down onto the bed.
"Well. I did, except. I thought it was here? I ended up in the wrong place."
"Where were you supposed to be."
"What's with the twenty questions, Cap?" Tony asks impatiently. "I was supposed to be in LA. I wasn't. So no meeting."
"You-were you supposed to meet Pepper?" Steve takes a step back from the bed. He's got an image in his mind of a beautiful dame waiting for a plane to land. It never comes. It makes him sick.
"Well yeah," Tony says. "I don't know why she bothered, I've never made it to a meeting she didn't drag me to."
Steve clenches his teeth.
"So we argued about that, I got mad and hung up, then I went to the tower to finish installing JARVIS." He pushes his hand back through his messy hair. "She called about the prototype a few hours later. I finished it about six this morning and flew it over to her-"
"You flew it over to her?" Steve explodes, unable to frame this story in any context where everything that goes wrong isn't completely Tony's fault. Flying after being awake for twenty hours-he could've gotten himself killed. And for what, 'cause he doesn't pay attention to what's going on in his own damn life?
"Why are you angry," Tony snaps, his face going hard. "It happens. Sometimes I'm late, sometimes I don't make it. You don't have to look at me like I'm some kind of horrible person, Rogers."
No, Steve thinks, disgusted. Not horrible. Just the worst kinda selfish.
"If you follow the fucking tabloids, I'm drunk when I bother to show up at all, or perpetually on my way to or from an orgy. This is not new!"
"How can you forget you're supposed to be on the other side of the damn country!"
Furious, Tony shoves his hands in his pockets. He's not wearing the crumbled, filthy suit from last night. He's got on a pair of Steve's sweats, one of Steve's t-shirts. Steve's gotta fucking quit this.
He doesn't even try to soften the accusation in his voice. "How can you treat someone like that, Tony."
"What the fuck, Rogers," Tony spits. "Why are you so worried about Pepper? You're the one that's fucking me."
Steve almost hits him. He feels the flash of heat in his face and neck, sees his vision go red. His fingers creak with the force behind his clenched fists.
Tony doesn't move. He just stares Steve down like he's daring him to throw the goddamn punch.
So Steve says, "Yeah. I am fucking you, Tony. And I gotta tell you, I can't come up with a single reason why."
Something snaps in Tony's face, something Steve didn't even know was on the verge of breaking.
Steve swallows the fury grinding caustic and hot in his lungs. He just wants to get outta here, go anywhere else. Some things you don't say, even when they're true.
But Tony lurches forward, twists his fingers around Steve's wrist. Doesn't let go when Steve jerks away. He tightens his grip and hangs his head and doesn't let go.
"I deserve that," he says softly. His voice falls completely flat, almost monotone. Steve's never heard it sound like this before. "Pepper's too good for me. You're too good for me. Please don't leave."
If Steve walks away now, he'll never have to walk away again. It'll be rough, trying to work with Tony after this, but they could do it. They're all adults. If Steve leaves it this way, he could finally crawl out from under the guilt that's been crushing him for months. He could stop being selfish. He could let Tony go and get on with his life.
"Please," Tony says.
Steve's bones feel rigid, outta place. Brittle like ice. He stays.
Slowly, slowly, Tony uncurls his fingers 'til his hand falls away. "Pepper is my best friend," he says dully to Steve's chest. He doesn't look up any higher than that. "When she finds out I've been cheating on her, she'll leave me. I don't know if she'll leave my company, I don't know if she'll cut all ties with me, I don't know how bad it's going to be." There's a fissure in his voice, like the cracks in the bad parts of Natasha's painting. "I know I've handled this whole ordeal-pretty much the worst way I could have. I've made some terrible mistakes. I don't know what's going to happen."
Steve thinks hotly, We weren't supposed to keep this up. It didn't have to come to this. It didn't have to happen at all.
Steve says coldly, "Thanks for that. Good to know where I stand."
"That's not where I'm going with this!" Tony all but shouts, pushing himself to his feet. His fingers twitch, antsy and restless, but he doesn't touch Steve again. "If you'd just shut up for a second and listen to me-"
"I've been listening, Tony! You love Pepper, you can't live without her, but you're cheating on her with me. I'm not here to justify your guilt! You can't just-"
"You don't understand," Tony rages, "I-"
Steve reaches for him, caught up in his anger, consumed in a way he's never been. He grabs Tony's wrists, makes Tony inhale sharply and bare his teeth. "So make me understand," Steve commands. Then, softer, "'Cause I'm really trying to."
Tony stares at him, desperate and frustrated, at odds with what to say. Steve remembers, in this moment, how hard he had to fight just to get to know him at all. To get to a point where he even recognizes how it looks: Tony struggling to explain himself.
Steve takes a breath. Then he says gently, "I like to have a plan of attack before jumping outta planes, Tony."
There's a long pause where Tony's face goes white, then flushes red. He sorta snorts. Then he starts laughing, choked and strained. Slides to his knees with his face in his hands, howling.
Steve kneels down next to him, gets an arm around his back. It's really that easy.
"You must think," Tony hiccups, "that I'm batshit-fucking-insane."
"Not the exact description that comes to mind," Steve replies, settling his palm over Tony's spine. "But yeah, definitely."
Tony rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes. Then he leans into Steve. "I'm leaving Pepper for you, Cap," he says firmly. "I guess I never said."
The bottom drops outta Steve's stomach.
"I haven't slept with her since I started sleeping with you. I don't know how to end things with her. It's not like I can just stop returning her calls." He looks down at his hands. "Breaking up with my girlfriends used to be her job."
"You're awful," Steve says, shaking his head. He touches Tony's hand gently. Lets it sink in that Tony's only been with him since they started; that Tony was, in his own way, almost faithful. There's a sweetness and a bitterness here: how maybe Steve means something to Tony. How isolated Pepper must feel, without even knowing why.
"I know I am. She runs my company and she lives with me and I love her so, so much." Tony sighs. "After we went for coffee-at that outdoor cafe? I guess I was waiting for you to show your cards. Make a move, maybe. But you never did, and you got angry when I did, but. You didn't stop me."
"No," Steve answers soberly. "I didn't."
"So, look," Tony says, shifting uncomfortably. "My knees are getting stiff on this floor. Do you want to be my boyfriend?"
Steve can feel the muscle in his jaw stretch and ache. "Tony, as far as Pepper knows you're still marrying her." He hates how Tony's this kinda person, able to offer Steve something he badly wants at the expense of someone else.
But then Tony says, "Pepper and I aren't engaged, Steve." His eyebrows wrinkle together. "Did you think that? Not that it matters, we're in a committed relationship and I definitely cheated on her, but."
Steve looks up, feeling kinda dumb. He just assumed, 'cause they're living together.
"Anyway," Tony says casually, sliding his fingers through Steve's, "I'd rather marry you."
Steve takes a moment to process this. Finds that he actually can't. "I need to be alone for awhile," he says stiffly, climbing to his feet.
Something passes over Tony's face, dark and too quick to read. "I, ah. Is something wrong?"
"What's wrong," Steve says evenly, "is we're having an affair. What's wrong is we're moving in together with our friends and your girlfriend." Maybe he sounds bitter, but he won't be a damn placeholder 'til the next best thing comes along. You can't just trade people around. "What's wrong is you saying you wanna marry me when you haven't even left her yet."
Tony's earnest, complicated expression slowly shuts down. Piece by piece, like he's boarding up the windows of an abandoned house. "So you don't want to be with me."
Steve's heart races, stilted and sharp. "It's not about that. You can't make decisions like this on your own."
"What other decision is there?" Tony asks, voice like a whip. "I can't stay with Pepper after I've been with you. I can't string her along when I'm not in love with her. And if you-if you don't want to be with me, I-I regret that, but I'm still leaving her. I have to. Steve, if you just-"
"Apologies, Sir," JARVIS says over the intercom, "but Colonel Fury is on the line. He says it is a matter of urgency."
"We are not done here," Tony whispers desperately as Fury patches in.
Steve's just thinking, We aren't even together and we're already penciling in arguments. These are all the worst parts of a relationship.
Then he has to bark a startled, "What?"
Impatiently, Fury repeats: "Loki is destroying Central Park."
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