[avengers big bang] never say never; part 1
Notes/Reference Post here.
Never Say Never
===============
There was a voice inside her head that kept reminding her that she should be used to this. Pepper Potts hadn't been employed at Stark Industries for more than a couple of years, and had spent an even shorter amount of time being the assistant to Tony Stark, but already she knew what to expect from her boss.
Especially when it came to him attending meetings with the company's board of directors.
Pepper didn't have to look in his direction to know that Anthony Edward Stark - the CEO of Stark Industries, was fast asleep right in the middle of yet another board meeting. She knew it by the glances from the stockholders in the room; some annoyed and others (very few others) apparently amused. Three years ago, when Tony had turned twenty-one and it had been time for him to step into the position that his father had left behind after his death, it was no secret that people doubted his abilities to do so. The media was vocal about it, and it was a loud whisper that still resonated in the halls of Stark Industries, but instead of proving people wrong Tony only acted up more and more as time passed along. He liked to claim that since he worked hard then he was entitled to play even harder, but there were many people that were not impressed by that kind of mentality.
And, judging by the looks on those around her? She knew for a fact that the board of directors were reaching the end of their rope.
She moved to give Tony a small nudge, to try and wake him before he could embarrass himself any further, but Obadiah Stane's piercing stare from the front of the room caused her to stop at once. It was until that moment that she realized that he had stopped his presentation altogether, and the room had fallen silent.
"We can resume this at a later date," Obadiah said after a brief pause, sharing a look with one of the oldest board members that just gave a small nod. Maybe Pepper would have thought more of it, if Obadiah wouldn't have bristled past it as if nothing had happened and simply gave her a small smile as the room started to clear out. "Could you give us some privacy as well, Miss Potts? I need to speak with Mr. Stark. Alone."
Unconsciously, Pepper looked over at Tony, who was still fast asleep against his chair. A part of her wanted to wake him, maybe find some sort of excuse for him to go with her out of the board room, but she knew better than to try. The look on Stane's face said it as much.
So, instead, she gathered her things along with his - she already knew he would forget them and ask for them later - and stood.
"Make sure no one interrupts us, hm?" Obadiah asked before Pepper could reach the door, his tone leaving very little room for argument.
***
It wasn't the nudge what woke him, but the sound of his name that came along with it. As the haze from sleep started disappearing, Tony couldn't help but feel a little disoriented, especially when he felt his head pounding from the hangover he had been battling ever since Pepper had called him early that morning to convince him that he had to attend the meeting.
When it registered in his mind who had said his name, though, he opened his eyes immediately.
For a moment he didn't say anything, too busy taking in his surroundings and noticing the empty boardroom, but when he caught sight of Obadiah staring at him he gave the best charming smile he could muster as he 'casually' sat up straight. "That presentation was...interesting."
Obadiah chuckled, sitting at the edge of the table and folding his arms in front of him. "Really. I'm interested to hear what you took away from that."
"Well, the important stuff," Tony responded easily, standing as he began to stretch. "Company's doing great. Stocks are strong. I need to work on our next release. All in all, a great success."
Despite the smile that tugged at Obadiah's lips, the last thing he looked was amused. "We need to talk, Tony. How are you feeling?"
Tony shrugged, walking over to the bar that he had installed last Spring. Well, not him directly, but he had designed it so that it could hold everything he wanted, just the way he wanted it. He still remembered Pepper's blank stare as she tried to figure out whether or not Tony had been joking when he had asked her to push it through to production. "Right now? Thirsty. Want something?"
"Tony."
"I'm serious. This wasn't put in just for show, you know." As he looked over his shoulder, and noticed Obadiah still staring at him, Tony just shrugged again. "Fine, I guess. It was just a nap, Obie." Noticing that Obadiah didn't seem satisfied with that response, Tony frowned slightly as he reached for the decanter that held a scotch that was older than he was. "What are you asking, exactly?"
"Well...we're concerned." Noticing the way that Tony paused before taking a sip of his scotch, Obadiah spoke quickly before he could be interrupted. "All of us. You seem to be struggling with the responsibilities that your position entails."
"What are you talking about?"
"Come on, Tony..." Obadiah walked over to him, eyes fixed on him the whole time. "You are rarely ever here. If it wasn't for Pepper--"
"I'm in the lab--"
"Playing with your toys, not with anything we can really present to the board."
"That's not true, some of my designs have already been completed and approved. Hell, they were very successful. I am not just 'playing with my toys,' Obie. Besides, the stocks are going strong--"
"That's only because thankfully your father still had projects in the pipeline that have helped us chug along when you decide you don't want to work, which is more often than not, but how long do you think we can keep this up?" Obadiah clasped his shoulder, giving it a small squeeze before bringing him closer to him. "Tony... I have tried to protect you for as long as I can, but you've made it very difficult. The board... You are being put on probation until further notice."
The drink in Tony's hand was quickly forgotten as the words sunk in, and he slowly realized that Obadiah wasn't laughing. There were no signs that indicated that he was simply joking, maybe punishing him for sleeping when he shouldn't have, but... Probation? Probation? It was something he couldn't have imagined, and it sounded like such a dirty little word that it made his stomach flip violently without the aid of the hangover. "That's... No, Obie, that's ridiculous. What do you mean I'm on probation?"
"It's temporary, until we see a change in your approach to the business."
Tony slammed his glass down on the bar, the scotch spilling onto the expensive mahogany but he was far from caring. "'We,' huh?" He began to pace, but Obadiah was quick to wrap an arm around him and hold him close; both to calm him down and keep him in place.
"The outcome is really up to you, son," Obadiah said quietly, but it wasn't the words that made Tony just freeze. It was that term of endearment that made him just stop thinking altogether about the present, and the probation, and think of his father.
His father.
Howard Stark didn't have to be alive for his son to hear him raging in his head. He could already hear him saying how this was unbelievable; that he had left him one job and he was already messing it up. But it was typical, wasn't it? Tony suddenly wasn't sure if he wanted to choke out a laugh or scream at the top of his lungs in hopes that his father could hear him, saying HOW ELSE DID YOU EXPECT THIS TO TURN OUT, or if he just wanted to fix it to prove that he was wrong. That he could do this.
Looking up at Obadiah, he knew the answer. His father's best friend had been around ever since Tony had been born, and to say that he had helped to raise him was an understatement. He was the one that Tony remembered seeing at the dinner table, and at birthdays. He was the one that never failed to have a gift for him; he was the one that his mother didn't have to force into spending time with him.
Suddenly, he was the one that Tony wanted to please. Because, looking up at him, he couldn't figure out if it was worse to disappoint someone that was already dead and buried, or someone that was still alive.
"I'll..." Tony nodded, his throat too dry to function for a moment. "Right. I'll fix this."
"I know you will, my boy," Obadiah just said with a small smile, his fingers pressing his shoulder tightly.
***
"Rogers. Steve, come on, I know you're in there!"
Steve let out a loud sigh, making sure it was audible enough for his best friend to hear it from the other side of the door. "Hm, I wonder who it could be," he said sarcastically as he opened the door of his apartment but, the second that he did, he was already tempted to close it once more when he noticed the way that Bucky just grinned at him. "Whatever it is, James Buchanan, no."
"Ouch. Full name and everything? I haven't even said anything."
"Yeah, well, you don't really have to with that look on your face." Steve walked back to his spot in his living room, where it almost looked as if he had built a nest made out of books and notepads, highlighters and different colored pens marking various sentences throughout the documents that littered the apartment. "I have a test at the end of the week, and I need to be prepared."
Bucky had walked in after Steve, but paused the second he caught sight of his friend's living room with a look that made it clear he wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or just flat out stare in pure disbelief. "I'd say you're very prepared already. That's...a lot of notes there, Steve."
Steve just gave him a look, his fingers drumming the cover of the Sanctions, Sentencing and Corrections book that he had been reading before Bucky had started banging on his door. "So what's with all the commotion? I heard the voicemail you left earlier - urgent but couldn't say it over the phone?"
"Oh, right." Leaning against the wall of the living room, Bucky just crossed his arms in front of him. "You need an intervention."
Frowning, Steve's attention was diverted once again from his book to his friend. "A what? Bucky--"
"Steve, you've been locked in here for months."
"No, I've been busy going to school. And work."
"Okay, you go from here, to school, to your shifts at the museum, but you're driving yourself into the ground."
Steve shrugged, looking back down at his book. "It's been a busy semester."
Bucky looked around the room, silent as Steve pretended to continue reading even if his eyes seemed to be fixed on just one spot in the text. "...Steve, your dad--"
"Please, don't." Closing the book, probably a bit harsher than he had intended by the way that Bucky blinked in surprise at the sound, Steve ran a hand along his face as he sighed. "What did you have in mind, exactly?" he asked quickly before Bucky could return to the subject of his father. He and Bucky had been friends for as long as they could each remember, and Bucky had been there to support both him and his father in more ways than he would ever be able to thank him for, but Steve couldn't just talk about his loss yet.
Four months wasn't enough time to be ready just yet.
Bucky seemed torn between wanting to make him talk or just helping him change the subject, but the internal debate didn't last for very long. "Let's go out for some drinks. There are some new places I've been wanting to try out."
"Bucky..."
"Just for a few hours. You're going to need to eat, anyway, and a drink will help you unwind from...all the studying."
Steve wanted to just say no, find a way to get him to drop all the subjects altogether so he could simply study, but he already knew it was a lost cause. "Just for a few hours, but I swear, if I wake up with a hangover tomorrow..."
"Oh come on, it won't be that bad," Bucky said with a grin. "Go get dressed. I have a cab waiting downstairs."
***
"Tony, you said this was an emergency."
"It IS an emergency, Rhodey. Didn't you hear what I said?"
Even without having him in front of him, Tony already knew that his best friend was rolling his eyes on the other end of the line. James Rhodes - or Rhodey, as Tony referred to him despite the other man's insistence that that was not his name - was overseas, and should technically be unreachable, but that word didn't exist in Tony's vocabulary. Along with 'no,' 'impossible,' and 'you are going to need to wait.' Tony didn't have the connections that his father and Obie had accumulated throughout the years, but he knew well enough how to use his name to his advantage. He had learned from the master, after all.
The drink in front of Tony sat untouched as he pressed his ear closer to his phone, as if somehow that would make Rhodey talk sooner. After leaving Stark Industries, he had driven out to a lounge in Manhattan to try to unwind, but he couldn't. All he could think about was Obie, and the company, and his father, and even if he wanted to yell and scream that he didn't care about any of it, he just kept getting stuck on one word.
Probation. Probation. The word echoed in his brain, and suddenly it was strong enough to force him to down his drink in one swift motion. Instead of it making him feel better, though, he just felt his stomach twist.
The company was the last thing he had of his father's, the only thing he had entrusted him with (or at least that's what Tony sometimes forced himself to believe), and now he might lose it.
They would really be gone, he suddenly thought; if he lost the company it would be as if his parents would really be just gone, and he held the phone a bit tighter as if unconsciously trying to reach for his only friend without saying a word.
"I don't know what you want me to tell you," Rhodey finally said with a sigh under his breath. "Try buckling down and take this seriously. I know you can do it and prove everyone wrong, don't sell yourself short."
"Rhodey..."
"I'm not kidding, Tony. What is that, music in the background? Are you at a bar?"
Tony wanted to say no, but a new drink was placed in front of him and he just shrugged. "I needed to think."
"Probably not the best place to be at, in this situation. You need to prove to your board that you're responsible." Rhodey paused for a moment, his voice getting a touch more serious. "You'll be okay. I'm sure you'll be able to figure it out."
He's just trying to get off the line, a voice in his head taunted him, and Tony just nodded. He wasn't sure if it was at his own thoughts, or at what Rhodey had said. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll... I'll talk to you later."
"Tony."
"Thanks, Rhodey," and, without giving him a chance to say anything else, he ended the call. Tony stared down at his new glass of scotch, and before he could think of his father again he downed the drink once more and stood. Some part of him noticed the room spin a little, but not enough to stop. Instead, he dumped more money than necessary on the bar to cover his tab, and started walking towards the door so he could leave as quickly as possible without being seen. Suddenly he just felt exhausted so, with the jacket of his suit gripped in one hand, the other started undoing the tie that now felt as if it was suffocating him.
In his attempt to avoid a brunette that was already making his way over to him, though, Tony didn't see the tower of a man that was also distracted and right in his way until the man's drink was covering the front his shirt and Tony's shoes.
"Oh great, that's Italian..." The rest of his grumbled sentence trailed off the second he looked up at the man in front of him; not out of intimidation, but at how blue his eyes were as he turned to look at him. "I'm-- I'm sorry, I didn't see where I was going."
"It's okay," the very tall man answered as he looked down to assess the damage of his shirt, and Tony couldn't help but stare at the spot where the drink had landed. "I think I was a little distracted, too."
"I feel horrible, let me buy you another drink."
"It's not necessary." Those impossibly blue eyes turned to him again. "Really, don't worry about it."
"Of course it's necessary, I probably ruined your shirt. I insist."
"No, please--"
"Well, it's one of two things," Tony said with a glint in his eyes that already gave away the fact that he had a plan, his past exhaustion suddenly gone. "I either buy you a drink, or I find a way to get you a wardrobe to replace this shirt."
"What? Why would you--"
"I told you, I feel horrible. It can be in all sorts of colors, and designs, and textures..." Tony caught the way that someone at the bar seemed to be paying attention to them - another man that was watching them with a half serious, half amused look on his face, and a small twinge of disappointment tugged at his stomach when he noticed the blonde in front him turn to him. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize... Boyfriend?"
By the way he turned back to him, Tony guessed that if the drink wasn't already on the floor it would currently be making him choke in surprise, but he just laughed when Tony motioned towards the bar. "Oh, no. No, he's just a friend."
"So let me get you both a drink, then," Tony answered easily with a grin, the past disappointment already fast forgotten. "I'm Tony, by the way."
"Yeah, I know." The response was automatic, but Tony didn't even bat an eye; he was used to it. What intrigued him was the way that the other man looked away for a second, as if he was reprimanding himself mentally for answering in the way that he had. "Steve," he added, shaking the extended hand that was offered. "You're not going to take a no for an answer, are you."
"You're quick, Steve. I like you already."
***
If someone would have told Steve that he would spend a good part of the night talking to Tony Stark, he would have probably laughed and brushed it off because that was just impossible. Steve Rogers was not the type to frequent the social circles that he could only assume someone like Tony Stark lived in. And, even if he had, never in his wildest dreams did he think that he would hold a conversation with him - especially one that was ignited after they had bumped into each other and his drink had ended mostly on his shirt.
But, after he and Tony had gone back to the bar to join Bucky, they began talking with an ease that made it hard to believe that they hadn't met before. Steve had introduced Bucky to Tony, and they shared polite conversation, but Tony seemed to mainly focus on him. One drink turned to three, and by the time that Tony ordered a fourth along with some food to snack on, Bucky had found a woman to talk to on the other end of the bar.
"So," Tony said as he handed Steve the new beer the bartender had delivered along with his refreshed tumbler of scotch. "I tried to hold off on the predictable questions, but I've got to admit I'm intrigued. What do you do, Steve?"
"Law student. I work some hours at a museum in Brooklyn, but I'm mainly focusing on school right now." Steve chuckled at himself, looking down at the beer in front of him. "Nothing too interesting."
Tony leaned against the bar, toying with his glass. "No no, that's pretty interesting. Law student, huh? What do you want to do with that? Stark Industries has a pretty good team of lawyers, in case you're interested."
"I'm more of a criminal law kind of student, but I'll keep that in mind. I grew up in a neighborhood where not everybody got a fair shake. I want to fix that, and put away the bullies that made it be like that." When Tony didn't seem to know what to say, Steve drummed his fingers on the bar and gave a small shrug. "I probably shouldn't be drinking so much, actually. I have a test in a couple of days and need to study."
"I'm sure you'll be fine. Besides, sometimes studying with a hangover helps, and your friend mentioned you needed to relax."
"He did, huh?" Turning to look at Bucky, Steve tried to glare but it was hard when his best friend seemed to be too distracted with the woman next to him. "He worries too much."
Tony, who had been motioning the bartender over to them once more, just grinned. "Well, he's right you know. The more you stress yourself, the less you're able to learn. It's all proven facts."
Unable to hold his laughter, Steve leaned against the bar. "Really. So you're an expert in all this?"
"Of course. And I know just the cure."
As the bartender set two shot glasses in front of them, along with a bottle of Johnnie Walker, Steve laughed again but this time he couldn't help but turn to look at Tony in surpirse when he began pouring shots for the two of them. "You're joking."
"I never joke when it comes to Johnnie Walker, Steve. Come on, take at least one shot with me."
"Tony, I need to study."
"I'll help you study."
"I didn't know you were a law student as well."
Tony smirked. "There's a lot of things you don't know about me. For all you know I'm a brilliant lawyer on my days off." Handing him one of the shots, he clinked the glasses before he could put it down. "C'mon, we can't let this go to waste. Just one?"
Rolling his eyes, and grumbling about how he couldn't believe Tony hadn't already finished the bottle already, Steve brought the glass up to his lips and quickly took the shot hoping it would help him cover the small smile that unconsciously kept tugging at his lips.
***
One shot turned to two, then four, and suddenly they were no longer drinking scotch, and oh god was that tequila? A group of people joined their small party, causing more commotion than the live band that had shown up at some point in the evening, but Tony didn't notice it.
He felt too good, too happy, to notice. He couldn't remember the last time he had laughed so hard, and Steve had a better sense of humor than he had initially let off.
Tony, of course, teased him about it without noticing the slur in his words.
"What did you expect?" Steve teased right back, leaning close enough to feel the body heat he was emitting. The smell of his cologne caught Tony off guard, and he suddenly found himself lingering for a moment unsure what to say.
But Steve just laughed, seemingly oblivious of Tony's thoughts. "Law students can have fun too, you know."
***
As they continued their 'party,' somebody mentioned Vegas, which prompted Tony to start rambling about it. How you need to know how to visit Vegas properly, and go to all the right spots, otherwise why in the hell does anyone even bother to go?
Steve found himself snickering, though, which caused Tony to do the same, and in turn made Steve laugh harder.
"I don't think I said anything funny," Tony tried to say with the best serious expression he could muster, but seeing Steve laugh made it a bit impossible to not at least smile. "What's so funny, anyway?"
"Well, you sound funny..." Tony swatted at his arm playfully, but Steve ducked away. Mostly. "And I have no idea what a good or bad Vegas visit consists of. I've never been."
Tony, who had been serving more alcohol into the shot glasses, turned to Steve at such a speed that for a second he was afraid he would drop the shot glass. Or the bottle. Or both. "WHAT? How have you never-- But.... Why?"
"Dunno. Never really thought about it, I guess? And I..." Steve paused as he felt his good mood begin deflating, suddenly finding the bottle in front of them way too interesting. "I was busy with other things."
"Well, we should fix that, then." Signaling the bartender over, Tony pulled out his phone. "My pilot can meet us at the hangar, and we can go--"
"What? No!" Steve looked at Tony, half expecting him to just say he was kidding, but no luck. If anything, Tony seemed confused on why he had been stopped from fumbling with the phone as he attempted to compose his text message. "No. No Vegas."
"C'mon, Steve... Didn't you say law students could have fun, too? Vegas is fun. Vegas is a BLAST."
"You're crazy."
"I'm right. There's a difference." Tony grinned. "One more shot. Whoever finishes it first chooses what we do next."
"No."
"Not a big fan of gambling?"
"Not a big fan of...this." Steve motioned towards the bar, the shot, the people around them, the almost empty bottle that he suddenly couldn't remember if it was the first or third.
Tony, though, just gave him a look. "Fine. Beat me at this and I'll shut up."
Tony didn't shut up. Especially not in the cab, or in the jet.
Steve just swore he would never bet again.
***
Tony finally shut up thousands of feet up in the air, however, as the lights of Manhattan started fading away behind them and their lips locked.
It was to ease Steve's nerves of flying, Tony had insisted, his fingers clutching tightly to Steve's shirt and tugging him closer; especially when Steve seemed to be more than willing to return the gesture.
"Want to bet that I'll have you pretty relaxed by the time we land?"
Steve didn't answer, but just agreed to the bet by kissing him again.
***
Waking up with a headache that threatened to split his skull in half wasn't a foreign feeling for Tony Stark. If some people were to know how often that happened maybe some would care that it was far too often for it to be normal, but in some ways - in many ways, it was normal for Tony.
Waking up tangled in bed with someone on mornings like these was also something that was normal for Tony, but generally he was the one that would serve as a pillow for his bed companion and not the other way around. As he slowly started coming to, he began to notice the warmth that he seemed to have been clinging to in his sleep. One that, as he started to move, his body began craving again almost immediately.
He couldn't focus on that particular desire, though, as he gingerly sat up and held his head in his hands. Soon he needed to open his eyes, he knew this, but it already felt as if it was too much effort. Sitting up was a tiring task alone, and damn it his head hurt. Somewhere in the room a phone suddenly began buzzing, and Tony groaned as he fell back in bed. No, he didn't want to deal with the world right now. He didn't want to deal with Pepper calling him and trying to get him back in the office, or to deal with a meeting.
It was that thought that finally made him open his eyes, and he sat up once more despite how much the room seemed to spin around him. Did he have a meeting? Was he supposed to be in the office? The memory of Obadiah's talk came back in a flash, and Tony stumbled out of bed as best as he could to look for his phone. Of course, this was easier said than done with the sea of clothes that were scattered throughout the room, and it was until then that Tony realized he didn't recognize the room where he was in. Which wasn't a strange thing either, not really, but...
Turning back towards the bed, Tony saw the blond man from last night (it had been the previous night, right?) still fast asleep in bed. A blanket was barely managing to cover him, and Tony felt his eyebrows shoot up a little as he took in the sight. It would be a lie if he were to say that he remembered the previous night, but he did remember meeting him. And spilling his drink on the shirt that was now on the floor, just a couple of feet away from him. They had talked, hadn't they? Yes, there had been talking. And drinking. His headache was clear proof that there had been drinking involved.
As he put on his boxers, Tony looked around the room for the first time and took in the enormous suite where they were. The curtains had been carelessly drawn closed at some point in the night, letting few rays of sunlight filter in, and even if his headache only got worse with the light he tried to focus as best as he could. That was, at least, until a phone began buzzing somewhere in the room again, and Tony tried to move to it as quickly as he could.
Before he could get to it, though, the sound of movement from the bed caused him to pause. Steve was slowly coming to and, as he seemed to realize that he wasn't in his own bed, he sat up at once even if it was evident by the look on his face that it had been a horrible idea. "What... Where am I?"
Tony walked back to the bed, and picked up a small notepad that was on the nightstand so he could read the stationary of whatever hotel they were staying in. "Caesar's, apparently. You should probably lay back down, you're looking a little green."
But, Steve didn't. Especially at the calmness in Tony's voice, as if this was just an every day occurrence. "Caesar's? What do you mean..."
"As in Vegas," Tony simply answered, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to ignore the throbbing of his head. "Please, please don't talk so loudly."
"VEGAS?" Steve almost cringed as much as Tony did at his own voice, but the nausea made it easy for him to ignore his own headache. "No. No, you're joking. You're joking, right?"
"Oh, yeah. I'm obviously in the mood to joke and have you yell when my head feels as if it's going to explode." Tossing him the notepad, as if to give him proof, Tony just began moving towards the buzzing phone. Was this another call, or was it the same one? He couldn't even figure out how long he had been awake for. "Look, just help me find my phone and I'll get us out of here, okay? It's no big deal."
Steve scoffed, but began getting out of bed. "Right. No big deal. As if it's..." Trailing off, he paused as he looked down at himself. Naked. He was naked, and it was until then that he realized that Tony was standing a few feet away from him wearing nothing but boxers. "Oh, god. What... Seriously? Can you... I kind of need. You know."
"What?" Tony turned back to Steve, once again distracted from his quest to find his phone, and noticed then how his cheeks seemed to redden as he wrapped a sheet around his waist. Unable to help it, Tony grinned as he picked up his pants. "Ah. This, you mean?"
"Just give me my clothes, will you?"
"But you look so good like that."
"Just. Don't."
"And here I thought you'd be a morning person," Tony teased as he tossed the pile of Steve's clothes onto the bed. "From what I remember, anyway."
Steve gave him a look as he pulled his boxers on. "Really. You remember anything at all?"
Tony shrugged, but before he could say anything else noticed that his phone was flashing under the couch in the small living room of the suite. Pepper's name and face flashed across the screen, and for a second he considered not answering, but he remembered Rhodey's words along with Obadiah's. Wasn't he supposed to be more responsible? Of course, waking up in Vegas with a stranger would probably disqualify him from that category, but he answered anyway. "Pep--"
"DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY TIMES I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO CALL YOU?"
From across the room even Steve had paused as Pepper's voice carried through the receiver. Tony had to hold the phone away from his ear as he used his free hand to hold his head, as if that way it would dull out his headache. "Do me a favor and don't yell, will you?"
"FORTY-SIX PHONE CALLS. The board is here, and Mr. Stane--"
"Just tell them I'll be in later, okay? I didn't know they rescheduled for today."
"Rescheduled? Are you still drunk?"
Probably, Tony was tempted to say, but didn't. He was used to his assistant getting very frustrated whenever he would promise to be somewhere but ended up across the globe, but this reaction was nothing like any of the ones he had already endured in the past. Had he missed a really important meeting? "Look, I'll get you a little souvenir but please just stall them while you can, will you? If you have the jet waiting for us--"
"Tony," Steve's voice tried to get through to Tony, but Pepper began ranting about something that Tony couldn't even begin to understand. "Tony."
"Not now, Steve."
"TONY."
"I can only deal with one person yelling at me at a time!" Tony snapped as he turned to look at him, but it was until then that he noticed that Steve was staring horrified at the television.
ANTHONY STARK WEDS BOYFRIEND IN VEGAS CEREMONY, the news ticker read on the morning news along with a blurry picture of him with Steve in a casino, and Tony hung up on Pepper. Maybe that way he would wake up, because he had to be dreaming; this couldn't be real.
He couldn't be married.
No, he couldn't be married.
Except, he wasn't waking up. The room kept spinning, suddenly worse than before, and Tony began pacing as he felt as if the walls were beginning to cave in on him. Anger was an easier emotion to grasp than the panic that he began feeling bubbling inside him, and he clenched his phone in his hand. "Whoever reported that is going to get their ass handed to them. I'll end their career. Do they think something like THAT is going to stick? I don't have a boyfriend. I mean, no offense Steve, you're damn good looking but I am not the boyfriend type. I AM NOT THE HUSBAND TYPE. How dare they say that we're married? We didn't. We're not--"
"We are," Steve interrupted quietly as he sank on the bed because, as Tony had been carrying on his tirade, he had been busy trying to find something that would help them prove that it was all a lie. That some sleazy reporter had seen them in Vegas, and had simply made up a headline to sell to the highest bidder, but folded in his pocket there had been a piece of paper. A folded piece of paper that read 'Marriage Certificate,' along with his name and one Anthony Edward Stark. "We got married. We... No. I mean, it can't be, right? We can get this changed. This can be fixed."
"Of course it's going to be fixed. I'm not-- I can't. I can't be married. I cannot be married to you." Tony stopped his pacing, and leaned against a wall as far away from Steve as possible. "Fuck, don't you get it? Someone like me can't do this. I can't do this. Do you know how taboo it is for a Stark to even think of having a boyfriend? My dad would..." Despite how pale he had already been, Tony's color drained even further as he sank down onto the floor. Because the sudden reminder of his dad was enough to bring back Obadiah's words about the probation that he was on, and hadn't Pepper mentioned something about the board?
In the back of his mind he could hear Steve asking him if he was okay, but Tony scrambled to his feet and rushed to the bathroom where the contents of his stomach rebelled against his attempts to hold them down.
Such a disgrace, he could hear Howard growling in his ear as he vomited into the toilet. How dare you bring your filth into my house? You do nothing but bring me shame, Anthony. HOW DARE YOU.
Tony flinched as he dry heaved almost as if Howard had truly hit him, because suddenly the memory was too real for him to distinguish it from reality. His parents had been gone for years now, but for all intents and purposes it was almost as if his father had never left.
"You should drink this." Steve's voice suddenly broke through his thoughts, and Tony barely glanced up at him to see the bottle of water he was holding before looking away. Instead of leaving, though, Steve sat on the floor with Tony and leaned on the wall across from him as he continued holding the water bottle. "Look, it's no big deal, right? We can get this whole thing annulled, I mean. It's Vegas, it must happen all the time. Plenty of celebrities have done it. I don't want to be married any more than you do."
Taking the bottle from him, Tony avoided looking at him as much as he could before rinsing his mouth. Maybe it was the cold floor under him, or maybe it was the fact that he was still wearing nothing except his boxers, but Tony couldn't stop shaking. He refused to believe that it was the memory of his father, even if his fingers seemed to anxiously play with the wrapper of the bottle. "I can't... We can't."
"We can't, what?" When Tony didn't answer, Steve frowned. Especially as it dawned on him what he meant. "We can't get it annulled? Is that what you mean? What happened to you not being the husband type? And the whole thing about how someone like you couldn't do this?"
"Exactly. Someone like me can't do this. I can't just have a quickie marriage. That's not the way it works."
"The way what works?"
"EVERYTHING. God, you don't get it. I know you don't, and I know you won't, but please just hear me out. Starks aren't supposed to have Vegas marriages. We're not supposed to get annulments after a night of being married. I'm not-- I can't, Steve. We can't. One thing would be for the board to deal with me having a husband, but a quickie marriage? I can't."
Frowning deeper, Steve leaned forward. "What are you trying to say?"
"Please, just..." Tony looked down at the water bottle, noticing until then how ripped the wrapper of the bottle was since his hands couldn't stop moving. He hated how desperate he sounded, how out of the norm he felt, but maybe that was what happened in situations like these. He just wanted Jarvis. He wanted his mother. It made him feel childish, to want them in a moment like this, but he just wanted someone to make all this go away. Make it disappear. Make it better, he begged silently at whoever was listening. Please, just make it better.
But instead of the floor opening up and swallowing him whole as he wished it would, nothing happened. Steve was still frowning at him, and Tony felt so exposed that he wanted to just run away and never come back. "I know it's a lot to ask," he finally managed, "but as it is I'm already on probation with the board of directors at my company. They're going to take the company away from me."
"Tony--"
"I can't, Steve. Okay? I can't lose it. My dad... It's all I got left. I was supposed to take care of it, and I was supposed to carry on what he left behind; I can't just lose it. Not like this." Just as Steve began to stand, Tony quickly reached out and tried to stop him by taking his wrist. "I promise, the second the probation ends I'll get the best divorce lawyer in New York, and it'll be over. I'll give you anything you want, you name it."
Steve paused and, even if Tony hadn't thought it was possible, his frown deepened. "You think that's what's making me say no to this? I don't care about your money, or what you can give me. You're right, it is a lot to ask."
Before he could continue, a pounding at the door startled both of them out of their arguments. Tony buried his face in his hands, trying to ignore the pounding as it seemed to just get louder, but he stopped as he suddenly heard his name.
"Tony," Obadiah called from the other side of the door. "Tony, open this door now."
Tugging at his hair tightly enough to tear it out, Tony took a breath and stood at once. Picking up his pants on his way to the door, he quickly slipped them on along with his shirt from last night, and opened the door. He didn't get a single word out before Obadiah barreled his way in, looking so red with anger that Tony had sudden flashbacks once more of his father.
"Obie," Tony tried to say, trying to figure out a way to calm him down, but as he yanked the curtains open and saw the true magnitude of his anger on his face, he knew better than to even attempt anything.
"You should get your things, we have a plane to catch. Where is that friend of yours?"
"It's not his fault."
"Like hell it's not his fault." Even if Tony opened his mouth to say something, Obadiah was quick to interrupt him as he took him roughly by his arm. "What does he want, exactly? Money? Goddamn it, Tony, don't you realize what you got yourself into? I already got the lawyer looking into it, though. We'll have this resolved by tonight."
Tony tried to pull away, but Obadiah's grasp was tight enough to not let him. Especially as Tony's sudden flashbacks of Howard returned, and the usual bravado he carried for the world to see was quickly forgotten. "What about the board?"
Obadiah let out a sound that was hard to tell if it was a short laugh or a scoff. "How do you think the board is taking this? You expect me to believe that you care about what the board thinks?"
"Obie--"
"Sir," Steve suddenly said as he walked out of the bathroom, his eyes zooming straight into the grasp that Obadiah still had on Tony. "I can assure you I don't want anything out of Tony."
"Ah, and here's the other groom." Obadiah let go of Tony then, walking over to Steve with an expression that was hard even for Tony to read. "Do you think this is funny, then? Did you think you could get something out of being married to Tony Stark?"
"Funny? It doesn't seem to me as if anybody in this room is laughing, so no I don't think it's funny." Steve could tell that Obadiah was trying to intimidate him, but it gave him an even bigger reason to not even look away. Not until out of the corner of his eye he caught the way that Tony seemed to deflate as he sat on the edge of the bed without even looking at them anymore.
"I suggest you find yourself a good lawyer, pal, because I assure you I'll find out your reasons behind all this. Do you realize who you're messing with? Do you know who I am?"
"I think the world knows who you are, sir. Myself included." Steve stared at Tony, then turned back to Obadiah. "What other reason do you need, other than my boyfriend and I wanting to get married?" The words snapped Tony out of his thoughts, and he didn't avoid the way that his head turned to look back at them immediately. "Sorry if it came as such a big surprise, but we just couldn't wait anymore."
Obadiah took Steve by his shirt, looking as if he was about to hit him, and that was enough for Tony to leap up at once and pull Obadiah back. Because, even if he didn't defend himself whenever it came to his fathers, it was different when he saw someone else in trouble. Especially when it was on his behalf. "Don't, Obie. He's telling the truth."
"Tony."
"I just didn't know how to tell you. I thought you'd react like Dad did."
"Your father knew?"
"Not about Steve. But he did…know. I think he hoped I'd grow out of the idea by the time the company was mine," Tony quickly lied. He knew it wasn't his best idea, to bring his father into this mix especially since Obadiah had known most, if not all, of Howard's secrets, but it was too late now to change his mind. Not that he was lying completely, though; Howard really had caught him once with a boyfriend - he had sported a bruised cheekbone afterwards to prove it.
Obadiah just stayed quiet, and Tony took it as a small victory as he walked over to Steve and looped an arm around his waist. Thankfully Steve took the hint, and he wrapped an arm protectively around his shoulders. "I'm sorry we made you come all the way out here, and I'm sorry we didn't have you there. We won't need the lawyer, though."
Obadiah stayed silent, staring at the two of them almost as if he would be able to catch them squirming but, when neither one of them did, he just crossed his arms across his chest. "Well, then. I'll see you back in New York. I wouldn't want to interrupt the honeymoon."
"Look, it's already… What, Thursday? We'll take the weekend. We'll be back by Monday," Tony promised, and Steve just nodded along. It wasn't until the door closed behind Obadiah that they both let go at once, and moved away from each other as if, if they were to continue staying too close to each other, they would do something that was even more stupid than their current track record. Watching Steve move quietly around the room, looking suddenly as desperate as he had felt earlier, Tony just stayed silent as he watched him.
The silence didn't last for long, though. "Why did you do it?" Tony's voice was quiet, but he was sure that Steve had heard him. "I mean, I'm...grateful that you did. But, why?"
Steve didn't say anything for a moment, his eyes fixed on the view of the Vegas strip in plain daylight. "It's temporary, right?" He said rather than giving him an answer to his question. "All this, it's temporary. Until your probation is over."
"Yes. I promise, it's temporary." Tony paused. "For all I know it might not even work. I'm not sure how thrilled the board will be with me, even if I don't get an annulment."
With a nod, he turned back to look at him. "...who gets your company, if you are removed? Is there somebody that's the next in line?"
"Obadiah and I have the most shares in the company. So, I guess it'd be him."
Steve raked his fingers through his hair, letting out a deep breath. "Well, I guess if we're going to convince them that this is...real, we better be ready to defend it."
"How's that, exactly?"
"Evidence," Steve answered simply with a shrug. "Let me go get something to eat, and we can... I don't know. Go over details. We'll figure it out."
Tony barely nodded before Steve began walking quickly towards the door. "Hey, Steve?" When he turned to look at him, Tony fumbled with his words for a second before finally saying the only thing he could think of. "Thank you."
Rather than answering, Steve barely nodded. "I'll see you in a few minutes."
And, with that, he walked out of the room, leaving Tony in a silence that made him feel as if it would soon choke the life out of him.
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5
Never Say Never
===============
There was a voice inside her head that kept reminding her that she should be used to this. Pepper Potts hadn't been employed at Stark Industries for more than a couple of years, and had spent an even shorter amount of time being the assistant to Tony Stark, but already she knew what to expect from her boss.
Especially when it came to him attending meetings with the company's board of directors.
Pepper didn't have to look in his direction to know that Anthony Edward Stark - the CEO of Stark Industries, was fast asleep right in the middle of yet another board meeting. She knew it by the glances from the stockholders in the room; some annoyed and others (very few others) apparently amused. Three years ago, when Tony had turned twenty-one and it had been time for him to step into the position that his father had left behind after his death, it was no secret that people doubted his abilities to do so. The media was vocal about it, and it was a loud whisper that still resonated in the halls of Stark Industries, but instead of proving people wrong Tony only acted up more and more as time passed along. He liked to claim that since he worked hard then he was entitled to play even harder, but there were many people that were not impressed by that kind of mentality.
And, judging by the looks on those around her? She knew for a fact that the board of directors were reaching the end of their rope.
She moved to give Tony a small nudge, to try and wake him before he could embarrass himself any further, but Obadiah Stane's piercing stare from the front of the room caused her to stop at once. It was until that moment that she realized that he had stopped his presentation altogether, and the room had fallen silent.
"We can resume this at a later date," Obadiah said after a brief pause, sharing a look with one of the oldest board members that just gave a small nod. Maybe Pepper would have thought more of it, if Obadiah wouldn't have bristled past it as if nothing had happened and simply gave her a small smile as the room started to clear out. "Could you give us some privacy as well, Miss Potts? I need to speak with Mr. Stark. Alone."
Unconsciously, Pepper looked over at Tony, who was still fast asleep against his chair. A part of her wanted to wake him, maybe find some sort of excuse for him to go with her out of the board room, but she knew better than to try. The look on Stane's face said it as much.
So, instead, she gathered her things along with his - she already knew he would forget them and ask for them later - and stood.
"Make sure no one interrupts us, hm?" Obadiah asked before Pepper could reach the door, his tone leaving very little room for argument.
***
It wasn't the nudge what woke him, but the sound of his name that came along with it. As the haze from sleep started disappearing, Tony couldn't help but feel a little disoriented, especially when he felt his head pounding from the hangover he had been battling ever since Pepper had called him early that morning to convince him that he had to attend the meeting.
When it registered in his mind who had said his name, though, he opened his eyes immediately.
For a moment he didn't say anything, too busy taking in his surroundings and noticing the empty boardroom, but when he caught sight of Obadiah staring at him he gave the best charming smile he could muster as he 'casually' sat up straight. "That presentation was...interesting."
Obadiah chuckled, sitting at the edge of the table and folding his arms in front of him. "Really. I'm interested to hear what you took away from that."
"Well, the important stuff," Tony responded easily, standing as he began to stretch. "Company's doing great. Stocks are strong. I need to work on our next release. All in all, a great success."
Despite the smile that tugged at Obadiah's lips, the last thing he looked was amused. "We need to talk, Tony. How are you feeling?"
Tony shrugged, walking over to the bar that he had installed last Spring. Well, not him directly, but he had designed it so that it could hold everything he wanted, just the way he wanted it. He still remembered Pepper's blank stare as she tried to figure out whether or not Tony had been joking when he had asked her to push it through to production. "Right now? Thirsty. Want something?"
"Tony."
"I'm serious. This wasn't put in just for show, you know." As he looked over his shoulder, and noticed Obadiah still staring at him, Tony just shrugged again. "Fine, I guess. It was just a nap, Obie." Noticing that Obadiah didn't seem satisfied with that response, Tony frowned slightly as he reached for the decanter that held a scotch that was older than he was. "What are you asking, exactly?"
"Well...we're concerned." Noticing the way that Tony paused before taking a sip of his scotch, Obadiah spoke quickly before he could be interrupted. "All of us. You seem to be struggling with the responsibilities that your position entails."
"What are you talking about?"
"Come on, Tony..." Obadiah walked over to him, eyes fixed on him the whole time. "You are rarely ever here. If it wasn't for Pepper--"
"I'm in the lab--"
"Playing with your toys, not with anything we can really present to the board."
"That's not true, some of my designs have already been completed and approved. Hell, they were very successful. I am not just 'playing with my toys,' Obie. Besides, the stocks are going strong--"
"That's only because thankfully your father still had projects in the pipeline that have helped us chug along when you decide you don't want to work, which is more often than not, but how long do you think we can keep this up?" Obadiah clasped his shoulder, giving it a small squeeze before bringing him closer to him. "Tony... I have tried to protect you for as long as I can, but you've made it very difficult. The board... You are being put on probation until further notice."
The drink in Tony's hand was quickly forgotten as the words sunk in, and he slowly realized that Obadiah wasn't laughing. There were no signs that indicated that he was simply joking, maybe punishing him for sleeping when he shouldn't have, but... Probation? Probation? It was something he couldn't have imagined, and it sounded like such a dirty little word that it made his stomach flip violently without the aid of the hangover. "That's... No, Obie, that's ridiculous. What do you mean I'm on probation?"
"It's temporary, until we see a change in your approach to the business."
Tony slammed his glass down on the bar, the scotch spilling onto the expensive mahogany but he was far from caring. "'We,' huh?" He began to pace, but Obadiah was quick to wrap an arm around him and hold him close; both to calm him down and keep him in place.
"The outcome is really up to you, son," Obadiah said quietly, but it wasn't the words that made Tony just freeze. It was that term of endearment that made him just stop thinking altogether about the present, and the probation, and think of his father.
His father.
Howard Stark didn't have to be alive for his son to hear him raging in his head. He could already hear him saying how this was unbelievable; that he had left him one job and he was already messing it up. But it was typical, wasn't it? Tony suddenly wasn't sure if he wanted to choke out a laugh or scream at the top of his lungs in hopes that his father could hear him, saying HOW ELSE DID YOU EXPECT THIS TO TURN OUT, or if he just wanted to fix it to prove that he was wrong. That he could do this.
Looking up at Obadiah, he knew the answer. His father's best friend had been around ever since Tony had been born, and to say that he had helped to raise him was an understatement. He was the one that Tony remembered seeing at the dinner table, and at birthdays. He was the one that never failed to have a gift for him; he was the one that his mother didn't have to force into spending time with him.
Suddenly, he was the one that Tony wanted to please. Because, looking up at him, he couldn't figure out if it was worse to disappoint someone that was already dead and buried, or someone that was still alive.
"I'll..." Tony nodded, his throat too dry to function for a moment. "Right. I'll fix this."
"I know you will, my boy," Obadiah just said with a small smile, his fingers pressing his shoulder tightly.
***
"Rogers. Steve, come on, I know you're in there!"
Steve let out a loud sigh, making sure it was audible enough for his best friend to hear it from the other side of the door. "Hm, I wonder who it could be," he said sarcastically as he opened the door of his apartment but, the second that he did, he was already tempted to close it once more when he noticed the way that Bucky just grinned at him. "Whatever it is, James Buchanan, no."
"Ouch. Full name and everything? I haven't even said anything."
"Yeah, well, you don't really have to with that look on your face." Steve walked back to his spot in his living room, where it almost looked as if he had built a nest made out of books and notepads, highlighters and different colored pens marking various sentences throughout the documents that littered the apartment. "I have a test at the end of the week, and I need to be prepared."
Bucky had walked in after Steve, but paused the second he caught sight of his friend's living room with a look that made it clear he wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or just flat out stare in pure disbelief. "I'd say you're very prepared already. That's...a lot of notes there, Steve."
Steve just gave him a look, his fingers drumming the cover of the Sanctions, Sentencing and Corrections book that he had been reading before Bucky had started banging on his door. "So what's with all the commotion? I heard the voicemail you left earlier - urgent but couldn't say it over the phone?"
"Oh, right." Leaning against the wall of the living room, Bucky just crossed his arms in front of him. "You need an intervention."
Frowning, Steve's attention was diverted once again from his book to his friend. "A what? Bucky--"
"Steve, you've been locked in here for months."
"No, I've been busy going to school. And work."
"Okay, you go from here, to school, to your shifts at the museum, but you're driving yourself into the ground."
Steve shrugged, looking back down at his book. "It's been a busy semester."
Bucky looked around the room, silent as Steve pretended to continue reading even if his eyes seemed to be fixed on just one spot in the text. "...Steve, your dad--"
"Please, don't." Closing the book, probably a bit harsher than he had intended by the way that Bucky blinked in surprise at the sound, Steve ran a hand along his face as he sighed. "What did you have in mind, exactly?" he asked quickly before Bucky could return to the subject of his father. He and Bucky had been friends for as long as they could each remember, and Bucky had been there to support both him and his father in more ways than he would ever be able to thank him for, but Steve couldn't just talk about his loss yet.
Four months wasn't enough time to be ready just yet.
Bucky seemed torn between wanting to make him talk or just helping him change the subject, but the internal debate didn't last for very long. "Let's go out for some drinks. There are some new places I've been wanting to try out."
"Bucky..."
"Just for a few hours. You're going to need to eat, anyway, and a drink will help you unwind from...all the studying."
Steve wanted to just say no, find a way to get him to drop all the subjects altogether so he could simply study, but he already knew it was a lost cause. "Just for a few hours, but I swear, if I wake up with a hangover tomorrow..."
"Oh come on, it won't be that bad," Bucky said with a grin. "Go get dressed. I have a cab waiting downstairs."
***
"Tony, you said this was an emergency."
"It IS an emergency, Rhodey. Didn't you hear what I said?"
Even without having him in front of him, Tony already knew that his best friend was rolling his eyes on the other end of the line. James Rhodes - or Rhodey, as Tony referred to him despite the other man's insistence that that was not his name - was overseas, and should technically be unreachable, but that word didn't exist in Tony's vocabulary. Along with 'no,' 'impossible,' and 'you are going to need to wait.' Tony didn't have the connections that his father and Obie had accumulated throughout the years, but he knew well enough how to use his name to his advantage. He had learned from the master, after all.
The drink in front of Tony sat untouched as he pressed his ear closer to his phone, as if somehow that would make Rhodey talk sooner. After leaving Stark Industries, he had driven out to a lounge in Manhattan to try to unwind, but he couldn't. All he could think about was Obie, and the company, and his father, and even if he wanted to yell and scream that he didn't care about any of it, he just kept getting stuck on one word.
Probation. Probation. The word echoed in his brain, and suddenly it was strong enough to force him to down his drink in one swift motion. Instead of it making him feel better, though, he just felt his stomach twist.
The company was the last thing he had of his father's, the only thing he had entrusted him with (or at least that's what Tony sometimes forced himself to believe), and now he might lose it.
They would really be gone, he suddenly thought; if he lost the company it would be as if his parents would really be just gone, and he held the phone a bit tighter as if unconsciously trying to reach for his only friend without saying a word.
"I don't know what you want me to tell you," Rhodey finally said with a sigh under his breath. "Try buckling down and take this seriously. I know you can do it and prove everyone wrong, don't sell yourself short."
"Rhodey..."
"I'm not kidding, Tony. What is that, music in the background? Are you at a bar?"
Tony wanted to say no, but a new drink was placed in front of him and he just shrugged. "I needed to think."
"Probably not the best place to be at, in this situation. You need to prove to your board that you're responsible." Rhodey paused for a moment, his voice getting a touch more serious. "You'll be okay. I'm sure you'll be able to figure it out."
He's just trying to get off the line, a voice in his head taunted him, and Tony just nodded. He wasn't sure if it was at his own thoughts, or at what Rhodey had said. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll... I'll talk to you later."
"Tony."
"Thanks, Rhodey," and, without giving him a chance to say anything else, he ended the call. Tony stared down at his new glass of scotch, and before he could think of his father again he downed the drink once more and stood. Some part of him noticed the room spin a little, but not enough to stop. Instead, he dumped more money than necessary on the bar to cover his tab, and started walking towards the door so he could leave as quickly as possible without being seen. Suddenly he just felt exhausted so, with the jacket of his suit gripped in one hand, the other started undoing the tie that now felt as if it was suffocating him.
In his attempt to avoid a brunette that was already making his way over to him, though, Tony didn't see the tower of a man that was also distracted and right in his way until the man's drink was covering the front his shirt and Tony's shoes.
"Oh great, that's Italian..." The rest of his grumbled sentence trailed off the second he looked up at the man in front of him; not out of intimidation, but at how blue his eyes were as he turned to look at him. "I'm-- I'm sorry, I didn't see where I was going."
"It's okay," the very tall man answered as he looked down to assess the damage of his shirt, and Tony couldn't help but stare at the spot where the drink had landed. "I think I was a little distracted, too."
"I feel horrible, let me buy you another drink."
"It's not necessary." Those impossibly blue eyes turned to him again. "Really, don't worry about it."
"Of course it's necessary, I probably ruined your shirt. I insist."
"No, please--"
"Well, it's one of two things," Tony said with a glint in his eyes that already gave away the fact that he had a plan, his past exhaustion suddenly gone. "I either buy you a drink, or I find a way to get you a wardrobe to replace this shirt."
"What? Why would you--"
"I told you, I feel horrible. It can be in all sorts of colors, and designs, and textures..." Tony caught the way that someone at the bar seemed to be paying attention to them - another man that was watching them with a half serious, half amused look on his face, and a small twinge of disappointment tugged at his stomach when he noticed the blonde in front him turn to him. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize... Boyfriend?"
By the way he turned back to him, Tony guessed that if the drink wasn't already on the floor it would currently be making him choke in surprise, but he just laughed when Tony motioned towards the bar. "Oh, no. No, he's just a friend."
"So let me get you both a drink, then," Tony answered easily with a grin, the past disappointment already fast forgotten. "I'm Tony, by the way."
"Yeah, I know." The response was automatic, but Tony didn't even bat an eye; he was used to it. What intrigued him was the way that the other man looked away for a second, as if he was reprimanding himself mentally for answering in the way that he had. "Steve," he added, shaking the extended hand that was offered. "You're not going to take a no for an answer, are you."
"You're quick, Steve. I like you already."
***
If someone would have told Steve that he would spend a good part of the night talking to Tony Stark, he would have probably laughed and brushed it off because that was just impossible. Steve Rogers was not the type to frequent the social circles that he could only assume someone like Tony Stark lived in. And, even if he had, never in his wildest dreams did he think that he would hold a conversation with him - especially one that was ignited after they had bumped into each other and his drink had ended mostly on his shirt.
But, after he and Tony had gone back to the bar to join Bucky, they began talking with an ease that made it hard to believe that they hadn't met before. Steve had introduced Bucky to Tony, and they shared polite conversation, but Tony seemed to mainly focus on him. One drink turned to three, and by the time that Tony ordered a fourth along with some food to snack on, Bucky had found a woman to talk to on the other end of the bar.
"So," Tony said as he handed Steve the new beer the bartender had delivered along with his refreshed tumbler of scotch. "I tried to hold off on the predictable questions, but I've got to admit I'm intrigued. What do you do, Steve?"
"Law student. I work some hours at a museum in Brooklyn, but I'm mainly focusing on school right now." Steve chuckled at himself, looking down at the beer in front of him. "Nothing too interesting."
Tony leaned against the bar, toying with his glass. "No no, that's pretty interesting. Law student, huh? What do you want to do with that? Stark Industries has a pretty good team of lawyers, in case you're interested."
"I'm more of a criminal law kind of student, but I'll keep that in mind. I grew up in a neighborhood where not everybody got a fair shake. I want to fix that, and put away the bullies that made it be like that." When Tony didn't seem to know what to say, Steve drummed his fingers on the bar and gave a small shrug. "I probably shouldn't be drinking so much, actually. I have a test in a couple of days and need to study."
"I'm sure you'll be fine. Besides, sometimes studying with a hangover helps, and your friend mentioned you needed to relax."
"He did, huh?" Turning to look at Bucky, Steve tried to glare but it was hard when his best friend seemed to be too distracted with the woman next to him. "He worries too much."
Tony, who had been motioning the bartender over to them once more, just grinned. "Well, he's right you know. The more you stress yourself, the less you're able to learn. It's all proven facts."
Unable to hold his laughter, Steve leaned against the bar. "Really. So you're an expert in all this?"
"Of course. And I know just the cure."
As the bartender set two shot glasses in front of them, along with a bottle of Johnnie Walker, Steve laughed again but this time he couldn't help but turn to look at Tony in surpirse when he began pouring shots for the two of them. "You're joking."
"I never joke when it comes to Johnnie Walker, Steve. Come on, take at least one shot with me."
"Tony, I need to study."
"I'll help you study."
"I didn't know you were a law student as well."
Tony smirked. "There's a lot of things you don't know about me. For all you know I'm a brilliant lawyer on my days off." Handing him one of the shots, he clinked the glasses before he could put it down. "C'mon, we can't let this go to waste. Just one?"
Rolling his eyes, and grumbling about how he couldn't believe Tony hadn't already finished the bottle already, Steve brought the glass up to his lips and quickly took the shot hoping it would help him cover the small smile that unconsciously kept tugging at his lips.
***
One shot turned to two, then four, and suddenly they were no longer drinking scotch, and oh god was that tequila? A group of people joined their small party, causing more commotion than the live band that had shown up at some point in the evening, but Tony didn't notice it.
He felt too good, too happy, to notice. He couldn't remember the last time he had laughed so hard, and Steve had a better sense of humor than he had initially let off.
Tony, of course, teased him about it without noticing the slur in his words.
"What did you expect?" Steve teased right back, leaning close enough to feel the body heat he was emitting. The smell of his cologne caught Tony off guard, and he suddenly found himself lingering for a moment unsure what to say.
But Steve just laughed, seemingly oblivious of Tony's thoughts. "Law students can have fun too, you know."
***
As they continued their 'party,' somebody mentioned Vegas, which prompted Tony to start rambling about it. How you need to know how to visit Vegas properly, and go to all the right spots, otherwise why in the hell does anyone even bother to go?
Steve found himself snickering, though, which caused Tony to do the same, and in turn made Steve laugh harder.
"I don't think I said anything funny," Tony tried to say with the best serious expression he could muster, but seeing Steve laugh made it a bit impossible to not at least smile. "What's so funny, anyway?"
"Well, you sound funny..." Tony swatted at his arm playfully, but Steve ducked away. Mostly. "And I have no idea what a good or bad Vegas visit consists of. I've never been."
Tony, who had been serving more alcohol into the shot glasses, turned to Steve at such a speed that for a second he was afraid he would drop the shot glass. Or the bottle. Or both. "WHAT? How have you never-- But.... Why?"
"Dunno. Never really thought about it, I guess? And I..." Steve paused as he felt his good mood begin deflating, suddenly finding the bottle in front of them way too interesting. "I was busy with other things."
"Well, we should fix that, then." Signaling the bartender over, Tony pulled out his phone. "My pilot can meet us at the hangar, and we can go--"
"What? No!" Steve looked at Tony, half expecting him to just say he was kidding, but no luck. If anything, Tony seemed confused on why he had been stopped from fumbling with the phone as he attempted to compose his text message. "No. No Vegas."
"C'mon, Steve... Didn't you say law students could have fun, too? Vegas is fun. Vegas is a BLAST."
"You're crazy."
"I'm right. There's a difference." Tony grinned. "One more shot. Whoever finishes it first chooses what we do next."
"No."
"Not a big fan of gambling?"
"Not a big fan of...this." Steve motioned towards the bar, the shot, the people around them, the almost empty bottle that he suddenly couldn't remember if it was the first or third.
Tony, though, just gave him a look. "Fine. Beat me at this and I'll shut up."
Tony didn't shut up. Especially not in the cab, or in the jet.
Steve just swore he would never bet again.
***
Tony finally shut up thousands of feet up in the air, however, as the lights of Manhattan started fading away behind them and their lips locked.
It was to ease Steve's nerves of flying, Tony had insisted, his fingers clutching tightly to Steve's shirt and tugging him closer; especially when Steve seemed to be more than willing to return the gesture.
"Want to bet that I'll have you pretty relaxed by the time we land?"
Steve didn't answer, but just agreed to the bet by kissing him again.
***
Waking up with a headache that threatened to split his skull in half wasn't a foreign feeling for Tony Stark. If some people were to know how often that happened maybe some would care that it was far too often for it to be normal, but in some ways - in many ways, it was normal for Tony.
Waking up tangled in bed with someone on mornings like these was also something that was normal for Tony, but generally he was the one that would serve as a pillow for his bed companion and not the other way around. As he slowly started coming to, he began to notice the warmth that he seemed to have been clinging to in his sleep. One that, as he started to move, his body began craving again almost immediately.
He couldn't focus on that particular desire, though, as he gingerly sat up and held his head in his hands. Soon he needed to open his eyes, he knew this, but it already felt as if it was too much effort. Sitting up was a tiring task alone, and damn it his head hurt. Somewhere in the room a phone suddenly began buzzing, and Tony groaned as he fell back in bed. No, he didn't want to deal with the world right now. He didn't want to deal with Pepper calling him and trying to get him back in the office, or to deal with a meeting.
It was that thought that finally made him open his eyes, and he sat up once more despite how much the room seemed to spin around him. Did he have a meeting? Was he supposed to be in the office? The memory of Obadiah's talk came back in a flash, and Tony stumbled out of bed as best as he could to look for his phone. Of course, this was easier said than done with the sea of clothes that were scattered throughout the room, and it was until then that Tony realized he didn't recognize the room where he was in. Which wasn't a strange thing either, not really, but...
Turning back towards the bed, Tony saw the blond man from last night (it had been the previous night, right?) still fast asleep in bed. A blanket was barely managing to cover him, and Tony felt his eyebrows shoot up a little as he took in the sight. It would be a lie if he were to say that he remembered the previous night, but he did remember meeting him. And spilling his drink on the shirt that was now on the floor, just a couple of feet away from him. They had talked, hadn't they? Yes, there had been talking. And drinking. His headache was clear proof that there had been drinking involved.
As he put on his boxers, Tony looked around the room for the first time and took in the enormous suite where they were. The curtains had been carelessly drawn closed at some point in the night, letting few rays of sunlight filter in, and even if his headache only got worse with the light he tried to focus as best as he could. That was, at least, until a phone began buzzing somewhere in the room again, and Tony tried to move to it as quickly as he could.
Before he could get to it, though, the sound of movement from the bed caused him to pause. Steve was slowly coming to and, as he seemed to realize that he wasn't in his own bed, he sat up at once even if it was evident by the look on his face that it had been a horrible idea. "What... Where am I?"
Tony walked back to the bed, and picked up a small notepad that was on the nightstand so he could read the stationary of whatever hotel they were staying in. "Caesar's, apparently. You should probably lay back down, you're looking a little green."
But, Steve didn't. Especially at the calmness in Tony's voice, as if this was just an every day occurrence. "Caesar's? What do you mean..."
"As in Vegas," Tony simply answered, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to ignore the throbbing of his head. "Please, please don't talk so loudly."
"VEGAS?" Steve almost cringed as much as Tony did at his own voice, but the nausea made it easy for him to ignore his own headache. "No. No, you're joking. You're joking, right?"
"Oh, yeah. I'm obviously in the mood to joke and have you yell when my head feels as if it's going to explode." Tossing him the notepad, as if to give him proof, Tony just began moving towards the buzzing phone. Was this another call, or was it the same one? He couldn't even figure out how long he had been awake for. "Look, just help me find my phone and I'll get us out of here, okay? It's no big deal."
Steve scoffed, but began getting out of bed. "Right. No big deal. As if it's..." Trailing off, he paused as he looked down at himself. Naked. He was naked, and it was until then that he realized that Tony was standing a few feet away from him wearing nothing but boxers. "Oh, god. What... Seriously? Can you... I kind of need. You know."
"What?" Tony turned back to Steve, once again distracted from his quest to find his phone, and noticed then how his cheeks seemed to redden as he wrapped a sheet around his waist. Unable to help it, Tony grinned as he picked up his pants. "Ah. This, you mean?"
"Just give me my clothes, will you?"
"But you look so good like that."
"Just. Don't."
"And here I thought you'd be a morning person," Tony teased as he tossed the pile of Steve's clothes onto the bed. "From what I remember, anyway."
Steve gave him a look as he pulled his boxers on. "Really. You remember anything at all?"
Tony shrugged, but before he could say anything else noticed that his phone was flashing under the couch in the small living room of the suite. Pepper's name and face flashed across the screen, and for a second he considered not answering, but he remembered Rhodey's words along with Obadiah's. Wasn't he supposed to be more responsible? Of course, waking up in Vegas with a stranger would probably disqualify him from that category, but he answered anyway. "Pep--"
"DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY TIMES I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO CALL YOU?"
From across the room even Steve had paused as Pepper's voice carried through the receiver. Tony had to hold the phone away from his ear as he used his free hand to hold his head, as if that way it would dull out his headache. "Do me a favor and don't yell, will you?"
"FORTY-SIX PHONE CALLS. The board is here, and Mr. Stane--"
"Just tell them I'll be in later, okay? I didn't know they rescheduled for today."
"Rescheduled? Are you still drunk?"
Probably, Tony was tempted to say, but didn't. He was used to his assistant getting very frustrated whenever he would promise to be somewhere but ended up across the globe, but this reaction was nothing like any of the ones he had already endured in the past. Had he missed a really important meeting? "Look, I'll get you a little souvenir but please just stall them while you can, will you? If you have the jet waiting for us--"
"Tony," Steve's voice tried to get through to Tony, but Pepper began ranting about something that Tony couldn't even begin to understand. "Tony."
"Not now, Steve."
"TONY."
"I can only deal with one person yelling at me at a time!" Tony snapped as he turned to look at him, but it was until then that he noticed that Steve was staring horrified at the television.
ANTHONY STARK WEDS BOYFRIEND IN VEGAS CEREMONY, the news ticker read on the morning news along with a blurry picture of him with Steve in a casino, and Tony hung up on Pepper. Maybe that way he would wake up, because he had to be dreaming; this couldn't be real.
He couldn't be married.
No, he couldn't be married.
Except, he wasn't waking up. The room kept spinning, suddenly worse than before, and Tony began pacing as he felt as if the walls were beginning to cave in on him. Anger was an easier emotion to grasp than the panic that he began feeling bubbling inside him, and he clenched his phone in his hand. "Whoever reported that is going to get their ass handed to them. I'll end their career. Do they think something like THAT is going to stick? I don't have a boyfriend. I mean, no offense Steve, you're damn good looking but I am not the boyfriend type. I AM NOT THE HUSBAND TYPE. How dare they say that we're married? We didn't. We're not--"
"We are," Steve interrupted quietly as he sank on the bed because, as Tony had been carrying on his tirade, he had been busy trying to find something that would help them prove that it was all a lie. That some sleazy reporter had seen them in Vegas, and had simply made up a headline to sell to the highest bidder, but folded in his pocket there had been a piece of paper. A folded piece of paper that read 'Marriage Certificate,' along with his name and one Anthony Edward Stark. "We got married. We... No. I mean, it can't be, right? We can get this changed. This can be fixed."
"Of course it's going to be fixed. I'm not-- I can't. I can't be married. I cannot be married to you." Tony stopped his pacing, and leaned against a wall as far away from Steve as possible. "Fuck, don't you get it? Someone like me can't do this. I can't do this. Do you know how taboo it is for a Stark to even think of having a boyfriend? My dad would..." Despite how pale he had already been, Tony's color drained even further as he sank down onto the floor. Because the sudden reminder of his dad was enough to bring back Obadiah's words about the probation that he was on, and hadn't Pepper mentioned something about the board?
In the back of his mind he could hear Steve asking him if he was okay, but Tony scrambled to his feet and rushed to the bathroom where the contents of his stomach rebelled against his attempts to hold them down.
Such a disgrace, he could hear Howard growling in his ear as he vomited into the toilet. How dare you bring your filth into my house? You do nothing but bring me shame, Anthony. HOW DARE YOU.
Tony flinched as he dry heaved almost as if Howard had truly hit him, because suddenly the memory was too real for him to distinguish it from reality. His parents had been gone for years now, but for all intents and purposes it was almost as if his father had never left.
"You should drink this." Steve's voice suddenly broke through his thoughts, and Tony barely glanced up at him to see the bottle of water he was holding before looking away. Instead of leaving, though, Steve sat on the floor with Tony and leaned on the wall across from him as he continued holding the water bottle. "Look, it's no big deal, right? We can get this whole thing annulled, I mean. It's Vegas, it must happen all the time. Plenty of celebrities have done it. I don't want to be married any more than you do."
Taking the bottle from him, Tony avoided looking at him as much as he could before rinsing his mouth. Maybe it was the cold floor under him, or maybe it was the fact that he was still wearing nothing except his boxers, but Tony couldn't stop shaking. He refused to believe that it was the memory of his father, even if his fingers seemed to anxiously play with the wrapper of the bottle. "I can't... We can't."
"We can't, what?" When Tony didn't answer, Steve frowned. Especially as it dawned on him what he meant. "We can't get it annulled? Is that what you mean? What happened to you not being the husband type? And the whole thing about how someone like you couldn't do this?"
"Exactly. Someone like me can't do this. I can't just have a quickie marriage. That's not the way it works."
"The way what works?"
"EVERYTHING. God, you don't get it. I know you don't, and I know you won't, but please just hear me out. Starks aren't supposed to have Vegas marriages. We're not supposed to get annulments after a night of being married. I'm not-- I can't, Steve. We can't. One thing would be for the board to deal with me having a husband, but a quickie marriage? I can't."
Frowning deeper, Steve leaned forward. "What are you trying to say?"
"Please, just..." Tony looked down at the water bottle, noticing until then how ripped the wrapper of the bottle was since his hands couldn't stop moving. He hated how desperate he sounded, how out of the norm he felt, but maybe that was what happened in situations like these. He just wanted Jarvis. He wanted his mother. It made him feel childish, to want them in a moment like this, but he just wanted someone to make all this go away. Make it disappear. Make it better, he begged silently at whoever was listening. Please, just make it better.
But instead of the floor opening up and swallowing him whole as he wished it would, nothing happened. Steve was still frowning at him, and Tony felt so exposed that he wanted to just run away and never come back. "I know it's a lot to ask," he finally managed, "but as it is I'm already on probation with the board of directors at my company. They're going to take the company away from me."
"Tony--"
"I can't, Steve. Okay? I can't lose it. My dad... It's all I got left. I was supposed to take care of it, and I was supposed to carry on what he left behind; I can't just lose it. Not like this." Just as Steve began to stand, Tony quickly reached out and tried to stop him by taking his wrist. "I promise, the second the probation ends I'll get the best divorce lawyer in New York, and it'll be over. I'll give you anything you want, you name it."
Steve paused and, even if Tony hadn't thought it was possible, his frown deepened. "You think that's what's making me say no to this? I don't care about your money, or what you can give me. You're right, it is a lot to ask."
Before he could continue, a pounding at the door startled both of them out of their arguments. Tony buried his face in his hands, trying to ignore the pounding as it seemed to just get louder, but he stopped as he suddenly heard his name.
"Tony," Obadiah called from the other side of the door. "Tony, open this door now."
Tugging at his hair tightly enough to tear it out, Tony took a breath and stood at once. Picking up his pants on his way to the door, he quickly slipped them on along with his shirt from last night, and opened the door. He didn't get a single word out before Obadiah barreled his way in, looking so red with anger that Tony had sudden flashbacks once more of his father.
"Obie," Tony tried to say, trying to figure out a way to calm him down, but as he yanked the curtains open and saw the true magnitude of his anger on his face, he knew better than to even attempt anything.
"You should get your things, we have a plane to catch. Where is that friend of yours?"
"It's not his fault."
"Like hell it's not his fault." Even if Tony opened his mouth to say something, Obadiah was quick to interrupt him as he took him roughly by his arm. "What does he want, exactly? Money? Goddamn it, Tony, don't you realize what you got yourself into? I already got the lawyer looking into it, though. We'll have this resolved by tonight."
Tony tried to pull away, but Obadiah's grasp was tight enough to not let him. Especially as Tony's sudden flashbacks of Howard returned, and the usual bravado he carried for the world to see was quickly forgotten. "What about the board?"
Obadiah let out a sound that was hard to tell if it was a short laugh or a scoff. "How do you think the board is taking this? You expect me to believe that you care about what the board thinks?"
"Obie--"
"Sir," Steve suddenly said as he walked out of the bathroom, his eyes zooming straight into the grasp that Obadiah still had on Tony. "I can assure you I don't want anything out of Tony."
"Ah, and here's the other groom." Obadiah let go of Tony then, walking over to Steve with an expression that was hard even for Tony to read. "Do you think this is funny, then? Did you think you could get something out of being married to Tony Stark?"
"Funny? It doesn't seem to me as if anybody in this room is laughing, so no I don't think it's funny." Steve could tell that Obadiah was trying to intimidate him, but it gave him an even bigger reason to not even look away. Not until out of the corner of his eye he caught the way that Tony seemed to deflate as he sat on the edge of the bed without even looking at them anymore.
"I suggest you find yourself a good lawyer, pal, because I assure you I'll find out your reasons behind all this. Do you realize who you're messing with? Do you know who I am?"
"I think the world knows who you are, sir. Myself included." Steve stared at Tony, then turned back to Obadiah. "What other reason do you need, other than my boyfriend and I wanting to get married?" The words snapped Tony out of his thoughts, and he didn't avoid the way that his head turned to look back at them immediately. "Sorry if it came as such a big surprise, but we just couldn't wait anymore."
Obadiah took Steve by his shirt, looking as if he was about to hit him, and that was enough for Tony to leap up at once and pull Obadiah back. Because, even if he didn't defend himself whenever it came to his fathers, it was different when he saw someone else in trouble. Especially when it was on his behalf. "Don't, Obie. He's telling the truth."
"Tony."
"I just didn't know how to tell you. I thought you'd react like Dad did."
"Your father knew?"
"Not about Steve. But he did…know. I think he hoped I'd grow out of the idea by the time the company was mine," Tony quickly lied. He knew it wasn't his best idea, to bring his father into this mix especially since Obadiah had known most, if not all, of Howard's secrets, but it was too late now to change his mind. Not that he was lying completely, though; Howard really had caught him once with a boyfriend - he had sported a bruised cheekbone afterwards to prove it.
Obadiah just stayed quiet, and Tony took it as a small victory as he walked over to Steve and looped an arm around his waist. Thankfully Steve took the hint, and he wrapped an arm protectively around his shoulders. "I'm sorry we made you come all the way out here, and I'm sorry we didn't have you there. We won't need the lawyer, though."
Obadiah stayed silent, staring at the two of them almost as if he would be able to catch them squirming but, when neither one of them did, he just crossed his arms across his chest. "Well, then. I'll see you back in New York. I wouldn't want to interrupt the honeymoon."
"Look, it's already… What, Thursday? We'll take the weekend. We'll be back by Monday," Tony promised, and Steve just nodded along. It wasn't until the door closed behind Obadiah that they both let go at once, and moved away from each other as if, if they were to continue staying too close to each other, they would do something that was even more stupid than their current track record. Watching Steve move quietly around the room, looking suddenly as desperate as he had felt earlier, Tony just stayed silent as he watched him.
The silence didn't last for long, though. "Why did you do it?" Tony's voice was quiet, but he was sure that Steve had heard him. "I mean, I'm...grateful that you did. But, why?"
Steve didn't say anything for a moment, his eyes fixed on the view of the Vegas strip in plain daylight. "It's temporary, right?" He said rather than giving him an answer to his question. "All this, it's temporary. Until your probation is over."
"Yes. I promise, it's temporary." Tony paused. "For all I know it might not even work. I'm not sure how thrilled the board will be with me, even if I don't get an annulment."
With a nod, he turned back to look at him. "...who gets your company, if you are removed? Is there somebody that's the next in line?"
"Obadiah and I have the most shares in the company. So, I guess it'd be him."
Steve raked his fingers through his hair, letting out a deep breath. "Well, I guess if we're going to convince them that this is...real, we better be ready to defend it."
"How's that, exactly?"
"Evidence," Steve answered simply with a shrug. "Let me go get something to eat, and we can... I don't know. Go over details. We'll figure it out."
Tony barely nodded before Steve began walking quickly towards the door. "Hey, Steve?" When he turned to look at him, Tony fumbled with his words for a second before finally saying the only thing he could think of. "Thank you."
Rather than answering, Steve barely nodded. "I'll see you in a few minutes."
And, with that, he walked out of the room, leaving Tony in a silence that made him feel as if it would soon choke the life out of him.
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