Marvel 616 Fic: Undo | Chapter 9

[vail_kagami]

summary and story information this way

“The thing is,” Tony says on TV, smiling briefly and somewhat self-consciously, “that we tried to keep our relationship a secret because it was still a work in progress. I am not good at relationships, if the media can be believed, and we wanted to see if we could really make this work before coming out, to avoid exactly this situation. As it turned out, we couldn’t. I appreciate all Steve has done to keep things in perspective while I was too busy to deal with this, but the fact remains that in the end, all this hype about us showed me that we could never live up to the expectations put onto us and that we… that I am not willing or able to deal with this kind of pressure and observation. And once you realize that a relationship is not important enough for you to put up with that, then it’s only logical to end it. Anything else wouldn’t be fair. So I ended it. Steve Rogers and I are officially not together anymore. I know this won’t affect us professionally, so there is no need to worry about that. He’s a great guy, the best I’ve ever known, so he’ll find someone who really deserves him soon enough.” And then he leaves and ignores all the questions and comments people have for him.

“Wow,” Carol says from her place on the arm of the couch. “He couldn’t have made himself look any more like an asshole if he’d tried.”

“He did try,” Jan comments. She looks over to Steve who stands behind the sofa with his fingers about to crack the glass he is holding. “What exactly happened between you?”

“We… I don’t even know. He left me, and then he left. Hasn’t answered my calls, nothing.”

“So he might have spoken the truth just now,” Hank points out. Jan and Carol give him looks that make him pull in his head and pretend he’s not actually in the room.

“It’s. There are things he remembers now that he didn’t before, and they changed things. It’s my fault.”

“Is it? Because that—” Carol points to the now turned-off TV “—that is typical Tony Stark Lets Himself Appear To Be An Asshole Because He Thinks He Deserves To Be Seen That Way behavior.” Steve can practically hear the capital letters.

She’s right, too. This is Tony punishing himself and playing the bad guy. Steve knows he genuinely feels guilty for what happened and it’s so frustrating because it’s all Steve’s fault. Tony’s behavior makes him feel even worse, but this time he doesn’t even have the energy to be angry.

“I should clear that up,” he declares. “Tell the press that it’s all my fault.”

“Yeah, that’s a bad idea if I ever heard one.” Carol shakes her head. “Don’t fight your battles on national TV. Talk to Tony.”

“He doesn’t answer his phone. I don’t even know where he’s staying right now.”

“You’re going to meet again. Just be patient. You know Tony. He overreacts.”

Steve shakes his head. He wants to tell them that this is it, that Tony really meant it and that Steve betrayed him by letting him enter their relationship without having all the facts, but he can’t bring himself to do it. And a part of him still thinks that this is something they can solve; he just needs to talk to Tony and everything will be okay.

That is not what is going to happen. He fucked it up. Now he needs to accept that.

And he will. Eventually. What he can’t accept is Tony taking the blame for it.

Half an hour later, when he’s in their—in his—home in the tower, accepting things doesn’t seem nearly as possible anymore. He misses Tony like a lost limb. No, worse than that. He misses Tony like he missed his shield when he thought it lost forever. And it doesn’t help that they might still be friends and comrades, that things might simply return to the way they were before they became romantically involved, because back then taking their relationship further was a possibility. Something almost inevitable Steve had been looking forward to, without consciously knowing it, forever. Now it’s a thing of the past, something he had and has lost, and will never have again.

If he accepts it, he will never again sleep with his arms wrapped around Tony’s slim waist. He won’t wake up with Tony’s fingers in his hair. That kiss in the hall of the mansion, when Tony was already saying goodbye, will have been their last one.

They will never again watch silly shows on TV while lying on the couch together, Tony half in Steve’s lap, and that is worse. Steve won’t come home from his morning run to the coffee Tony left him when he had to leave early, the coffee too weak for Tony’s usual taste and the brand that Steve likes best. Right now, Steve can’t imagine ever not being Captain America and fighting the good fight, but eventually, if he lives long enough, age will get him and it will be time to retire and pass on the torch. And he only now realizes that he never doubted, somehow, that retirement meant spending more time with Tony. Living together somewhere, maybe playing mentor to the young ones. Maybe getting a dog. Sitting on the porch and watching the sun set with a blanket spread over their aching legs. Together.

It’s like there is no alternative. Steve removes this dream (this assumption) from his imagination and there is nothing to take its place.

Sex with Tony is great, and it’s better because he loves Tony, really loves him and takes pleasure from being with him like that. But he could live without it. Losing the easy intimacy between them, the comfort of each other’s presence and the overall affection and love that binds them even when they are fighting, that is something he isn’t sure he can take.

He lies awake that night, unable to find rest, just like the night before and the one before that. He hasn’t been able to sleep well or much since Tony was first taken from him.

Tony is just a man. A genius if there ever was one, an incredibly resourceful guy, but without his armor as vulnerable as any other man. Steve should have protected him. Then none of this would ever have happened.

Rhodes was right about that, too.

The bed is too big for one person. (The morning after the first night they shared together, Tony got up early and pretended it never happened, then pretended it didn’t matter and that Steve regretting it didn’t hurt him. Steve needed the whole day to convince him that he didn’t regret it and that it mattered. That it was safe to let himself have this. Maybe he never succeeded.) Steve rolls over again, ends up on Tony’s side, where he last saw him pale and full of sedatives the day Steve left here to have someone else deal with Tony’s demons.

At dawn, tired and worn out and determined, Steve has come to a decision. He gets up, showers, shaves, and packs the few things he needs in a small bag. Just outside the tower, he runs into Carol.

To be exact, he almost runs into Carol’s car that comes to a stop in front of the tower just as he leaves it. Steve doesn’t even realize it’s her until she opens the door and asks him where he’s going.

“Airport,” he says. “I need to make a trip.”

Her lips twitch. “And since you’re not taking the Quinjet, I assume it’s a private endeavor.”

“You got me. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, so I’ll have a taxi take me there.”

“Why, when you can have me take you?” She gestures to the seat beside her. “Hop in.”

Steve does, secretly grateful for the opportunity, even as Carol throws sideway glances his way as she finds her way through the early morning traffic. The fact that she stopped by the tower and so quickly offered a ride indicates that she was hoping to talk to him anyway.

It doesn’t take long for her to break the silence. “So I take it you’re going to Seattle, then.”

“How do you know Tony is in Seattle?”

“How do you? I thought he doesn’t talk to you?”

“Where else would he be?” Steve shrugs and then admits, “I called Pepper Potts and she told me.” Besides, Tony loves Seattle. Somehow, he always seems to end up there.

Carol smirks, but the frown between her brows doesn’t disappear. “You’re taking matters into your own hands, then.”

“I have to. I can’t let him go on thinking that he is in any way to be blamed for this mess.”

“Well, he did dump you,” Carol points out. “And I can tell that hurt you.”

Steve would be lying if he claimed otherwise. “He had his reasons. And for him they make sense. They are still stupid, though. I don’t think… I mean, if he wants to break up with me, if he doesn’t love me anymore, then he did the right thing. But the way I see it… ” He shakes his head with a sigh. “I can’t let him go through with this.”

Carol shakes her head as well, but her lips twitch into something like a smile. “You amaze me, you know.”

“Why? Because I don’t want to give up something that made us both happy?”

“Exactly.”

Steve can’t help but stare at her in confusion and irritation. Why would that be in any way remarkable? “I hurt him, Carol. I really did. And if he can’t get over that, if it’s so bad… and it might be. I messed up but I don’t know how I could have done anything else. And maybe this is it. But I have to try.”

“And that’s what’s amazing,” Carol tells him. “You don’t usually do that.”

“I… what?”

“How many relationships have you been in, Steve? Serious ones?”

Steve thinks of Bernie, and Rachel. And Sharon, of course, over and over again. “Some.”

“And they all ended.”

“Naturally.”

“And you let them.”

“They were over,” Steve points out. They were. Sometimes they just drifted apart, sometimes there were conflicts that made them understand going their separate ways would be the wise thing to do. “We always parted as friends.”

“But you parted. And you just let that happen.” Carol snorts softly. “Not that there is anything wrong with that. I mean, you never looked like a breakup ripped the heart out of your chest. Except for now, that is.”

Steve looks at her, still trying to figure out where this is going. “Your point being?”

“My point is that you've never fought to keep a lover after they left you. I’m sure some of your girlfriends would have gladly taken you back if you had asked them, but you never do. You’re just generally okay with parting as friends. Tell me if I’m wrong, because I sure don’t know everything about your private life, but this is the first time ever I’ve seen you take action to salvage a relationship. My point is that something makes Tony very special for you, and I will kick your ass if you don’t do everything you can to fix this, because obviously, this is the big one for you. Both of you.”

Steve should probably reply to that. Tell her she’s being silly, possibly. He’s too distracted by realizing she’s right. This is a first for him. Maybe him being rational in his breakups and calmly accepting of what he thought his partners wanted was just him not caring enough.

“Here we are,” Carol says minutes later, pulling into the parking lot of the airport. She looks over at Steve one last time; he already has his hand on the door handle. “Don’t let him push you away, Steve.” Her eyes are serious. “But by God, remember how messed up he is. He’s been though a lot and I don’t think he’s had the chance to properly deal with any of it. Don’t fuck this up.”

“I won’t.” But when Steve stands near his gate an hour later, waiting to board the plane, he isn’t so sure he can do anything but.

-

It’s raining when he gets out of the airport. Heavy drops are falling from the sky as if they had a meaning. But it’s only rain. It carries not warning.

Steve has never been to James Rhodes' place in Seattle before. Why should he have? Despite the fact that the man is Tony’s best friend and they used to be on a team together, they never really had much to do with each other. For all Steve can tell, the apartment is moderately big and the building nice. It’s expensive, probably—for a place rarely used, at least. But the man makes good money with little time to spend it, and he’s friends with Tony Stark, who is notoriously generous and doesn’t seem to grasp some basic rules about social interaction. Steve doesn’t know why the place comes as a surprise.

Rhodes opens the door only seconds after Steve rings the bell. The way he does it, the sudden stop and how he opens his mouth to say something and then doesn’t make it obvious that he expected someone else.

“Well,” he says after a second. “Tony’s not here.”

“He’s not?” Steve hopes his disappointment isn’t too obvious, but then, what does it matter? “Where is he?”

Maybe Rhodes lied. Maybe he just doesn’t want Steve to see Tony, or Tony to see Steve, or Tony doesn’t want to see Steve.

“Out. No idea when he’ll be back. I was actually going to look for him in a minute.”

It’s not hard to guess who he expected to be at the door, then. “What’s he doing?” Rhodes seems worried.

“Would be none of your business even if I knew.” Rhodes also has a point. But then he opens the door further and beckons Steve to come inside, much to his surprise. “Get in here. I need to talk to you.”

“You could have called me.” Steve steps inside and the first thing he sees is the clutter on the couch in the living room. Tony has disassembled something there. Possibly a DVD player, or a toaster. He does that.

He’s been here and left traces of his presence all over the place.

“I’m not sure if I want to talk to you. But since you’re here, I might as well. What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to Tony.”

“I figured that. What about?”

“That’s between me and Tony.” The reply is instinctive, but Steve can tell from Rhodes’ expression that it’s not particularly smart. “I’m not going to… I want to apologize.” There, that is much better. And not wrong.

“Good.” Rhodes leads Steve through the room, past a half-open door through which Steve can see a queen size bed, the sheets crumpled, indicating that Rhodes hasn’t been up for too long. He’s military, and if he’s anything like Steve, his beds tend to be made. With precision.

Tony’s friend closes the door as he passes it and walks over to the fridge, takes out two cans and hands one to Steve, who is about to make a snide comment about the man having beer in his kitchen while Tony lives with him but notices in time that he’s been handed a Coke.

Tony doesn’t mind people drinking in his presence. For some reason, he seems to think he constantly has to test his resolve.

Steve takes the Coke and feels stupid and awkward. “I saw the interview Tony gave.”

Something like a snarl twists Rhodes’ features. “I figured.”

“He was telling them bullshit.”

“I know. But that’s Tony for you. What are you going to do about it?”

“I don’t know. Telling the media what really happened was my first idea, but I’ve been warned that this might get out of hand pretty quickly. In any case, I’d like to talk to Tony first. I think he misinterpreted som… no.” Steve shakes his head. This sounds wrong, and it’s not what he wants to say. “He blames himself for things that aren’t his fault and I need him to understand that this one is on me.”

“You wanted to kill him.” Rhodes’s stare is hard and unforgiving. Steve hangs his head because it’s true and nothing he’ll say will change it.

“I told you that there were a lot of things I should have told him while he was still alive,” he finally mentions. “Now I got the chance and it would be stupid not to take it.”

Rhodes hums, and it sounds like agreement.

“Daniel Serkwich is dead,” Steve says, shamefully hoping to change the topic. “He was killed by a SHIELD agent while in their custody.”

Rhodes raises an eyebrow but doesn’t look too surprised. “The agent’s working for their organization?” He shakes his head, his expression darkening. “Tony warned Hill about that.”

“He did. And she took care of all double agents he could name and started an investigation, but this one got through. We got her now, though, and maybe she call tell us more about others.”

“She won’t. They don’t know about each other.” Rhodes shakes his head again. “It’s a shame. I would have loved to get to know that guy a little better.”

Steve knows what he means and thinks it might be better there is no chance for a personal meeting anymore—for both Rhodes and himself. “You said you wanted to talk to me,” he reminds the other man. “What about?”

“Tony.”

“Yes, I gathered that.”

“Me wanting you to clear things up with him and make him understand that he’s not to be blamed for this one had something to do with it,” Rhodes explains. So at least in this they are on the same page. “You are never going to make up if each of you thinks it’s their respective fault, so you need to make him agree that you are the one who’s in the wrong here. You can go far from there.”

“You… I don’t know… Do you think there is any chance that Tony might even want to try again? Now that he knows everything?” Rhodes is probably not the best person to ask, but he’s the only one, and Steve can’t hold himself back. He needs some hope.

The other man sighs. Looks at the kitchen floor with one hand propped on the counter. “I don’t know,” he admits. “Hope, yes. Tony loves you, but when has he ever managed to secure his own happiness? So whatever decision he makes, it’s probably going to be wrong.”

Steve isn’t sure if that’s even supposed to help him. “That’s not much to work with.”

“It’s all you have. And if you fuck it up I’m coming after you. Because I’m going to do something now that doesn’t come easily for me and you’d better not make me regret it.”

Normally, Steve wouldn’t react well to people trying to threaten him, but Rhodes is doing this with the aim to protect Tony and Steve thinks that maybe, in this case, he has a right. “What do you want?”

“I need you to look after Tony. He’s still hurt, and he’s not handling things very well—you, his memories, what happened to him… He’s going to deny it if you ask him but I know him too well to be fooled. To be honest, I’m worried. And I have to leave for a couple of days, starting tomorrow. I don’t want to leave him alone.”

“And you’re asking me.” It’s almost a question. Steve didn’t think Rhodes wanted him anywhere near Tony. He thought the man would be pretty happy about their breakup.

“You love him,” Rhodes simply says, as if that explained everything. “You might be a dick, but I know you’ll do your best to help. And that’s all I want: for Tony to get over this. It’s too much at once. You know how fragile he can be.” He doesn’t wait for Steve to reply but looks him straight in the eye and declares, “Tony loves you, and leaving you is killing him. Leaving you because he thinks he is a horrible person makes it worse. So fix that and be there for him. He needs you to help him deal with this shit, you asshole.”

“I don’t get—”

“Most of the crap that’s killing him is centered around you: you dying, you fighting him, you being with him when he thinks he doesn’t deserve it. You thinking he’s a traitor and a piece of shit. You know, that kind of stuff. I can’t fix that. You can’t either, but you can try. Are you up for that or did you just come to say you’re sorry so you can sleep better at night?”

There’s open challenge in the other’s voice now, and something like hurt that Steve can’t place. “I…” He trails off when he realizes that Rhodes is right. So much of Tony’s life, his decisions, his demons have to do with Steve. Maybe they always were too close. Maybe Steve didn’t get the responsibility he had. Tony always looked at Steve for moral guidance. He still did what he thought he had to even if Steve did not agree, but he looked at Steve for what he should have done if he were a better person. If Steve did not agree, what Tony did was wrong. Necessary, perhaps (in Tony’s eyes), but wrong. If Steve hated him for it, it was something unforgivable. Because Tony sees Steve (not Captain America, Steve) as an example of all the ways in which he fails.

The fight over the SHRA was more than just their opinions clashing. Steve has always known that, but maybe he understands for the first time now. For Steve it was about betrayal. For Tony it was about giving up everything he ever hoped he might be.

And having Steve confirm to him over and over again that there can be no redemption.

Tony just remembered that. He knew before, but now he’s lived it. It’s no surprise that he can’t stand to be with Steve anymore.

Maybe Steve is being selfish.

“I won’t let you down,” he promises.

“Great.” Rhodes turns back to the fridge and opens it, but he doesn’t make a move to take anything out. He just stares inside as if looking for something. “Then you can start by finding him and getting him back here. He should be somewhere nearby. I think he just took a walk, was surprised by the rain.”

He’s probably right, but Steve’s stomach still turns. No one knows where Tony is right now. The last time that happened, it was weeks before they saw him again.

Without another word, Steve walks out of the door, picking up speed with every step down the stairs.

-

It’s still raining when Steve leaves the building. Pouring, actually. The rain comes down in long, straight lines of water and Steve spares a moment to be glad he’s wearing his boots and not sneakers as he steps into the puddle the walkway has turned into. At least his feet will stay dry, even as every other part of him gets soaked.

He has no idea where to start looking for Tony. Rhodes expected him to have come back when Steve showed up, so he must have been gone for a while, and Steve knows that Tony can wander pretty far when he’s brooding. It started raining at least an hour ago, so the sensible thing for Tony to do would have been to seek shelter somewhere and wait it out; maybe in a café, like he and Steve sometimes did in New York when the weather changed suddenly and they had no place to be.

But this is Seattle and Steve doesn’t know the area like he does Manhattan. He doesn’t know if there’s any place nearby that Tony likes, or might like. He knows there’s a park about two miles from here because he’s seen it out of the window of the taxi that took him to Rhodes’ apartment, so that is the direction he goes. Maybe he’ll find Tony sitting warm and dry in some little shop somewhere between the apartment and the park.

Or maybe he doesn’t need to do any of that because Tony is walking down the sidewalk on the other side of the street right now, since he did not have the sense not to get drenched and Steve never really thought he would. He’s not looking down, or up, but his gaze is blank, lost in thought, and he doesn’t notice Steve until he’s almost reached him.

Then he looks started. A little wary. Hard to read, overall, which means he might be panicking.

He’s dripping wet and getting wetter, his sweater sticking to his body because he’s not wearing a coat and his hair plastered to his face. He’s pale and thin, like the last time Steve had seen him, but also wet and almost translucent in the heavy rain, like a ghost.

(When they were fighting over the SHRA, Steve knew exactly how Tony felt about him, and about himself.)

“What are you doing here?” Tony asks now, coming to stand underneath a tree that does nothing to protect him from the rain. “Did something happen?”

“You left me.” Steve takes a step closer but keeps a respectful distance, like one would with a nervous animal. “That happened.”

“Yes, I was there. But why are you here, now?”

“Tony.” Tony’s hair is too long and hanging into his eyes. “Do you love me?”

“I… ” Tony blinks. “What does it matter?”

“It matters to me. Because I love you. Having my feelings returned would be a pretty big deal, don’t you think?” Steve attempts a smile.

“We’re not teenagers.”

“No. We’re adults. Which means that when we have a problem, we can work it out.”

“We don’t have a problem anymore. I solved it.”

“How can you stay that, you arrogant bastard?” There is no venom in Steve’s voice, but Tony flinches anyway. He looks so sad; it breaks Steve’s heart. “Why do you insist on doing this to yourself?”

“I don’t love you.”

“You’re lying. That was pathetic, try again.”

“You cannot stand there and decide how I feel.”

“I know how you feel and I know you’re the worst person ever when it comes to sabotaging your own happiness. So let me try this again. I love you, Tony. I always have. Fighting you was the worst thing I ever had to do.”

“You didn’t have to do it.” Tony sounds helpless and lost; this is getting away from him and he has little control over what’s happening. “You could have given in. Protested in another way. There didn’t have to be violence. I was trying to protect you, you asshole.”

“I know.” Steve takes a steps closer and Tony takes a step back, but there’s a wall behind him and he’s trapped, and Steve is within arm’s reach now. Just that; just close enough to reach out and place his hand on the side of Tony’s face. “I know.”

“It all went so wrong,” Tony whispers, and his eyes have that far-away look that sees terrible things he won’t get over.

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No.” Steve shakes his head and his throat closes. He has wished for this conversation for so long, thinking how unfair it was that he had to carry this burden alone while Tony knew his own history and guilt only as words on paper. Now the conversation is happening it just hurts. He doesn’t get to yell. Tony’s apologies don’t offer vindication. “No, it’s okay. I forgive you. I’m sorry, too.”

Tony was responsible for creating the Thor clone that killed Bill, but that wouldn’t have happened (perhaps, perhaps not yet, perhaps not like this) if Steve hadn’t started that fight. He’s spent a lot of time burying his own guilt by blaming Tony.

“You don’t get to be sorry,” Tony snaps. The water on his face isn’t all rain, Steve is certain. “You did exactly what I knew you’d do. The right thing. Fight for what we believe in. I did a lot of shit so you could keep being the good guy without dooming everyone. Even get you killed, and Bill, and Jan… I didn’t sell out so that you can feel sorry.”

Steve wasn’t there, of course he wasn’t, but he has seen footage from Jan’s funeral. Heard Hank’s accusing words and seen Tony accept them. They made him so angry, but Hank has been grieving and Tony didn’t remember. Steve never brought it up.

“I won’t let you do this,” he says. “It’s not all your fault. You did what you thought you had to. But you got us into that mess because you thought you knew best and made decisions for all of us. And now you’re doing it again.”

Tony’s face falls, the anger draining away and leaving blankness in its wake. Steve is using Tony’s guilt to get what he wants, and under different circumstances, he would feel terrible for it. But now it is necessary since it’s the only way to make Tony understand. As a tactician, Steve needs to use what resources he has.

“I thought I lost you,” he continues. “You were dead and I was left with a lot of things I should have done and said. Then I got you back. Can you imagine how that felt? It was as if my life had a meaning again—not as Captain America but as Steve Rogers. Suddenly I was granted the chance to do and say what I had to instead of just regretting not having done it. After all these weeks of not being allowed to see you and then losing you for good, I couldn’t wait to finally get you back. Do you have any idea how happy I was to see you that day? All I wanted was to hold you, but what I got instead was you walking out on me for some stupid reason.” He’s not yelling but it’s a close call. Talking about it makes him realize how much it hurt.

And Tony looks utterly miserable, but also determined, because he thinks he knows better. He always thinks he knows better, and that hurting himself is okay if it gets the job done. It used to make Steve so angry. (It still does.)

“Tony.” Steve cups Tony’s face in both hands now, and he’s standing very close. “You mean more to me than any other person on this Earth,” he gets out one of the things Tony needs to know even as Tony’s body tenses and his eyes flicker away to something that is safer than Steve’s face. “I can’t stand the thought of losing you. I’ve long since forgiven you for what you did when you thought you had to. You make me so angry sometimes, but I always knew you’re a good man and that you have good intentions. Always. Even when we were fighting.” He takes a deep breath. “And I’m sorry. This is my fault, all of it. I never wanted to hurt you.” Water is running from Tony’s hair and over his hands, painfully cold. “Please forgive me.” He leans in and brushes his lips over Tony’s, just for a second, but it’s enough to make his heart sing. Afterwards he looks into Tony’s eyes and Tony looks back at him, his lashes very dark and long and wet. “Do you love me?” he asks again, his whole world balancing precariously on this one question.

Tony closes his eyes and for a second the water touching Steve’s fingers is warm. He nods, the movement barely visible. “Always,” he whispers.

“Okay, then.” Steve tries a smile again, tries to lighten the mood, but really, all he wants to do is kiss this man so he does, with gentleness and love and his tongue slowly pushing between Tony’s parted lips. And for one precious moment, Tony lets him in and lets it happen.

Then he turns his head and places his hand over Steve’s chest, right over his heart, and pushes him away just a bit. “Wait,” he says. “I can’t do this.”

“Why not?” Steve tries to be patient. He tries not to be annoyed, or hurt, or desperate. “There is no reason—”

“I’m with Rhodey,” Tony says.

Oh.

Oh.

“You what?” Impressively eloquent. Steve would be proud of his witty words and his gaping expression if his brain were working at all. And they praised him for adjusting to changes in battle in a matter of second. He shook his head and tried again. “What?”

“I’m with Rhodey,” Tony repeated. “Have been for days. Because you and I are over and there’s no way back.”

“No. Tony, are you serious?” The shock and confusion are quickly making way to anger. “You get together with your best friend to make a point about the two of us? How irresponsible and selfish can you be? Did it ever cross your mind that you hurt people’s feelings with this? You know the guy would do anything for you so you use him as a distraction?” Of course it didn’t cross his mind, because he is Tony Stark and the world does, in fact, revolve around him.

With this new information, the conversation with Rhodes, his tension and insistence that Steve make up with Tony appear in a completely new light.

Tony pushes Steve away with more force and twists out of his grip, anger and something else flashing over his face and making him look alive. “Why does everyone think that?” he snaps.

“Because what else are we supposed to think when you throw yourself at him hours after breaking up with me even though you’re still in love with me?”

“I didn’t break up with you because I don’t love you anymore. I think we established that quite well. But break up with you I did, and there is a reason why it was Rhodey, of all people, I turned to. What makes it so impossible to imagine that I love both of you?” Tony shoots back. Steve is acutely aware that they are standing on the street where anyone can hear them and anyone with a cell phone can record their fight and send it to the media, but he finds he doesn’t care right now.

Still, his voice is much quieter when he says “Tony,” and forces himself not to move. “I know you love him, as a friend. Like I love Bucky, and Sam. But you can’t confuse the two, and you can’t pretend. It isn’t fair on either of you. Us.”

“Why, thank you for telling me what I’m feeling.” Tony’s jaw shifts, his whole posture screaming stubborn defiance and hurt. “In case that wasn’t clear, I am bisexual. I didn’t suddenly turn gay for you. And Jim is a damn attractive guy who also happens to be one of the most extraordinary and clever and loyal people I have ever met, so it’s not like he never showed up on my radar before now. In fact, if you absolutely have to know, I’ve been with him before. Several times. The first time before I ever met you, so don’t tell me how this time I’m ruining our friendship!”

Steve opens his mouth for a quick reply but only gets rain inside before he snaps it shut again. Something inside his stomach knots and aches. “I… you never told me that.”

“You never asked.”

“I’d assu—” But that was stupid and Steve knows it. Still. He shakes his head. “And what about how Rhodes is feeling about you? Are you sure this isn’t just something he does out of misguided loyalty to you?”

“You don’t know Jim very well. He would never do this if he didn’t want to.”

“No, but maybe he thinks you need it and wants to help you.”

“Stop assuming things about people you hardly know,” Tony snarls. Steve wonders if he includes himself in that and clenches his hand until his nails are biting into his palm.

“You’re right, I don’t know Rhodes very well. But when I met him just now he was very eager to push us back together so he can leave, so forgive me for drawing my conclusions from that!”

Steve realizes he could have worded that better when he sees the look on Tony’s face.

For a second, Tony stands motionless. Then he starts walking toward the house, his pace brisk but his movements jerky. Steve follows a few steps behind him, feeling like an intruder now, and like a bastard, and cursing himself for feeling like he’s won something.

Tony ignores the elevator, leaving a wet trail up the stairs. Steve can see that he’s still limping, how he’s leaning heavily onto the rail, but he never slows down.

The door to the apartment is unlocked and Tony storms inside, straight into the bedroom where Rhodes is busy changing the sheets and straightening the covers and this time Steve sees it and is overcome by a wave of jealousy that blindsides him completely and lets him stop dead in his tracks.

Rhodes slept with Tony in that bed; last night, while Steve was lying in his own bed staring at the ceiling and longing for Tony, Rhodes had his hands on Tony’s hips and his lips on Tony’s mouth and maybe Tony didn’t think of Steve at all.

The door slams shut and leaves Steve alone with his thoughts and feelings he doesn’t want and can’t seem to rip out of his chest.

-

There’s yelling going on behind the closed door. It’s far from soundproof; if Steve wanted to, he could understand every word they say, but he doesn’t want to for several reasons. Instead, he lingers in the kitchen, which is as far away from the bedroom as he can be without entering the office he has no place being in. It’s hard not to listen. It is even harder to do so.

Apparently Rhodes was under the impression he was doing what was best for Tony when he pushed Steve at him. Apparently Tony feels like he forced himself on his friend when he wasn’t wanted and is furious that Rhodes wouldn’t tell him.

Apparently, they have a lot to talk about.

Declarations of love are in there, yelled along with accusations and justifications like something that is given and doesn’t need to be discussed. Steve wonders if Tony can take the words from Rhodes without looking down; he never quite managed that with Steve, has never quite learned how to simply accept that someone loves him.

If he can look Rhodes in the eyes and just acknowledge that someone he loves loves him back and feel happy rather than uneasy, then Steve really has no reason for staying here to see how that fight turns out.

But he doesn’t know because he can’t see them and it’s hope, and maybe concern and maybe desperation, but definitely stupid, selfish hope that makes him stay and wait. He leans against the fridge, closing his eyes after the loud voices die down and he can hear nothing but the impression of whispers from the other side of the door. Quiet talking, some kind of conclusion that was reached. Maybe a kiss, somewhere in there. Maybe a kiss goodbye.

It takes a long time. Steve imagines Rhodes wrapping his arms around Tony and holding him close, imagines Tony kissing a trail along Rhodes’ jaw and guiding him to the bed the man just made. He feels horrible for the thoughts and the feelings they bring. This is intrusive and petty and not like him at all. He has never felt like this about anyone else. Carol was right. She’d fondly mock him if she knew, but Steve doesn’t like the person he is turned into by this much love, and the prospect of loss.

Eventually, finally, the silence is broken by the sound of a door opening. Steve opens his eyes in time to see Rhodes guide Tony through the door just beside the bedroom, where Steve suspects a bathroom. A good idea, he thinks distantly. Tony is still soaking wet.

Steve is still soaking wet and dripping onto Rhodes kitchen floor. He should feel bad about it. He should not wish that he was in the shower with Tony or that Rhodes wasn’t.

It’s a while before Rhodes comes out of the room, but he does it alone, and inside the shower is still running. As he steps into the harsh light of the kitchen lamp, Steve can see the wet spots on his clothes from where he held Tony against his body.

“So,” Rhodes greets him. “This is awkward.”

“Consider yourself lucky if that’s all it is for you.” Steve pushes himself away from the refrigerator, feeling like his body is covered in lead. “I suppose congratulations on saving your relationship are in order.” There’s a question in there. Whatever hope Steve had left, however, dies when Rhodes rubs the back of his head and is suddenly unable to meet his eyes.

“Well, I suppose,” he agrees. “Rumor has it that I am an idiot.”

“That makes three of us,” Steve says tiredly. And it’s all he has left to say. He just wants to get out of here.

“Where are you going?” Rhodes asks when Steve is almost at the door.

“Home,” Steve replies without turning. “I need to catch a plane, so if you’ll excuse me…”

“What happened to watching over Tony?” the other man asks him. “I still have to leave tomorrow, and just because Tony and I cleared up some misconceptions, that doesn’t mean that he should be left alone.”

Steve closes his eyes. He knows Tony is still struggling and needs someone to be there for him, but it can’t be him. Steve staying with him wouldn’t do any of them any favors. “You’re an asshole, Rhodes.”

“I know. But maybe not a much as you think.”

Steve finally turns around, shuts the door he had already opened so the neighbors won’t get a free audio drama to go along with the heavy rain hitting the windows. “What?” he snarls. “You’re willing to share him with me?” He’s aware he’s being unfair and terrible right now, but he can’t find it in himself not to be. Tony does that to him, and apparently, his friends do as well.

“Actually, it was Tony’s idea.”

Steve stares, and Rhodes looks even more awkward than before. If he’s anything like Steve, well, the situation has to be pretty damn desperate and weird for him to even consider it. If he’s even suggesting what Steve thinks he is.

“Tony suggested we share,” Steve repeats, to make sure. “Him.”

“That’s what it comes down to.” Rhodes shakes his head, as if he can’t believe he’s saying this. That is something they have in common, at least. Besides Tony, that is. “Listen, this is really weird. And awkward. Best Tony explains it to you while I’m... elsewhere. Out. Just, to get that out of the way, I’m, uh. Okay with it. For now. To try.” He bites his lip, shakes his head again, and grabs a coat from a hook on the wall. Steve stares at him, looking for words, but then the bathroom door opens and while Steve is distracted by Tony coming into view, Rhodes escapes through the door.

The door shuts like something final. Tony stands on the other end of the living area that separates them in a black-and-blue striped sweater that Steve has never seen before and that is at least three sizes too big for him. There is a hood lying unused on Tony’s back, soaking up the water that drips from his hair. It’s not something Tony would pick for himself.

And at that moment, Steve knows that whatever it is Tony and Rhodes have in mind, it can never work. Because it was Steve’s oversized clothes Tony used to steal and Steve only realizes how much he secretly liked seeing him in them when he sees him drowning in the sweater of someone else.

He’s not used to the jealousy and possessiveness that washes over him.

“Tony,” he says, and the next words would have been ‘I’m leaving,’ or maybe ‘You have to choose.’ But he has fantastic eyesight due to the serum, and sees the tremors that run though Tony’s body. Sees the flush on his cheeks, and he remembers how cold the rain was. Tony’s hair has been ruffled by a towel but he evidently didn’t have the patience to get it properly dry.

So Steve swallows his words and wraps Tony in a blanket he finds on the arm of the couch. Makes him sit down and sits beside him, and Tony is already half in his lap, and leaning against him like Steve is something to be taken for granted.

Like nothing is broken between them.

They talk, but not much. When Rhodes comes back an hour later, they are still sitting like that, with the blanket and the closeness, only that Tony is asleep now and Steve has come to a decision.

epilogue