The sun was rising above New York, bathing the empty 37th floor office in what was once known as the Avengers Tower in a cold light and Tony knew that there was no going back for him and Steve. Not from this, not ever. He sat on a floor, next to the big glass window, tired but, other than removing his helmet, unwilling to take off his Iron Man suit. Better safe than sorry. Opposite from him, mirroring Tony's position, Steve looked like he was dozing.
Everything they had wanted to say to each other was said many hours ago. There was yelling, accusations of betrayal, venomous insults and threats of physical violence (neither of them was wiling to make good on those, been there done that, and Tony from his side regretted it deeply, not that he'd own up to it to Steve). Then came resignation. They both realized there was nothing left to say to the other, no magic word that would make the other change his mind, relent. So they just sat there in silence, "enjoying" one last night in each other's company. Tony thought the scene would be funny, hilarious even, if it weren't his own life. He was about to burst out laughing but then he looked at Steve's grave and still face. The good Captain wouldn't get it.
Soon they would have to leave, go back to their respective handful of superheroes, break the non-news to them. And even that not before some parting warnings and threats of what was yet to come. A final battle? Conspiracies and deaths? Just thinking about it was tiring Tony so he decided to sit there for a few more moments, enjoying the view.
In the light of that shared sunrise, sneaking a glance at Steve's face every minute or so, Tony let himself make a promise. Not his usual type where he made them just to enjoy breaking them, a real deal. Tony vowed, and may no suit of his work ever again if he broke this vow, that no matter what kind of conspiracy and battle and mayhem were in their cards, he'd do everything in his power to keep Steve alive.
Nobody knew, nobody would ever know, and really there wasn't that much to know anyway. Before it all went to hell, Tony had gotten a rare and fully undeserved opportunity to see Steve's eyes smile in all their gut-punching earnestness. Making the great thing even better was the fact that those eyes were smiling at him. The way Steve's blue eyes looked just then, with Tony as their sole focus, toppled over, erased and replaced first 10 items on his then Top 10 List Of Favorite Things In The World. New list was soon further improved with several hot and heavy moments between them, but that first time Steve smiled at him, his eyes saying: "Yes, let's do this!" was never dethroned. If Tony was honest with himself, it still wasn't.
They had agreed to try it on, without any strings and surprisingly, it felt so natural, that next step in their relationship that Tony allowed himself to think, even expect, more and better. Then, in the space of one week, the Accords came into play, Steve located Barnes and went to get him with Wilson. Soon after that, everything went to shit. The lines were drawn and Tony found himself on one side while Steve was on the other, opposite, side. Smiles were gone, instead, they were exchanging a glower for glower, biting word for a biting word, much too good in their roles of fearless leaders to their factions, neither willing to cede any territory or compromise in any way. In the rare moments of quiet in his mind and his surroundings Tony would find himself wondering if the short time they spent together had been a dream.
The day Tony decided the answer to that question was yes - for it must have been and because it was time to let go - was not the day Steve and his friend Barnes kicked his ass and turned his beloved Mark 37 into scrap heap, no. It was the day after when he woke up in a painkiller-induced daze and at once remembered the cold look in Steve's eyes. He hated Tony, that much was clear. Right then and there Tony decided he hated Steve too, but he changed his mind immediately. It wouldn't do, he was still in love with Steve, working hard on rectifying that but he couldn't lie to himself. So he reserved his hate for the unrelenting marble statue of a man, Captain America, and decided none other than Iron Man was going to be the one to bring that spandex-clad, wannabe-world-policeman down. Tony also decided that Iron Man was going to have to work on his insults. Then he passed out and slept for few days.
Sitting on that floor now, mentally preparing to leave even if it meant he would be the first one to walk out, and what a joke, like there was ever any chance of them agreeing on a solution, he realized it never went away. He was still in love, still a genius idiot. Given chance right that second to kiss Steve senseless and let Steve kiss him senseless until they were both senseless and loving it, he'd take it. And that was that, it was time to get the hell out.
He got up, glancing once at Steve, Steve looked up, Tony's movement seemingly waking him from his grandpa nap. Tony wanted to say something but no words were coming to him. What he actually wanted to do was to sit back down and scream his throat hoarse, or maybe even go for a good cry, one of those Italian widow wail-for-pay theatrics.
He retreated and without looking back managed to utter a simple "Goodbye." Trying to keep his step casual he walked out in the direction of the elevators. He could've just flown out of the window but he didn't want Steve to think he was fleeing from him, like a coward. So he walked away like he had no trouble in the world until, just ten feet from the elevators he was halted by a hand grabbing his forearm. Steve's hand. Tony looked at him, puzzled for a moment then said: "Steve?". Steve hesitated then extended his hand for Tony to shake and said "Goodbye Tony." Tony toyed for a moment with the idea of not giving him this, a decent and civil last goodbye between them but decided what the hell, Steve can have one last thing. "Goodbye Steve." he said, not willing to take his hand but looking into Steve's eyes like he really meant it, these were very likely their last words to one another, and yet somewhere deep inside he hoped he was wrong. Steve's eyes betrayed nothing, no hope, no feeling of any kind. Had Steve really thought there was any chance of this meeting bearing fruit? Tony realized he knew the answer to that question as soon as he asked it.
"I'll wait for 10 minutes and then come down on my own. They see us together, they could get a wrong idea." Steve said.
Tony just nodded. Steve was right, if people saw them coming out of the building together, they could get an idea that they had worked out everything and ended the madness. Idiots, the bunch of them.
Steve turned away, went back in the direction of the office. Tony was going to seal that office shut in the future if he remembered, when he remembered.
He just stood there for a moment, then pushed the "down" button on the elevator and threw one last glance at the office, Steve's solemn figure was looking through the window, the sun made his hair glow like a golden crown. He sighed heavily just as the elevator door opened. It can't go down fast enough, he thought. He pushed a button, the door shut. He looked at his own face in the mirror, appraising the bags under his eyes. His eyes, those traitors which even now showed his every emotion to anyone who knew how to look. He hoped to himself that Steve both did and didn't still know and then he heard it. An almost imperceptible ticking was coming from somewhere above his head. He listened. One tick... Two... Three... then nothing. "Fuck!" he exhaled.
One final thought on Tony's mind was: Damn, I wish I had kissed him senseless. And then he was swallowed in a roar of fire and darkness and silence.