Lust. It always started that way. He'd meet people, yes people because he was an equal opportunity kind of guy, and through an interesting mixture of alcohol and charm he would soon be carving them into the notches on his bedpost. Half the time he couldn't remember their names come morning, but that hardly mattered because he hardly ever stuck around long enough for that to become apparent to the other party. Yes, it always started with lust, and most of the time it ended there too.
But there were those very rare occasions where the other party piqued his interest enough that he stuck around. Called them instead of deleting their numbers from his phone. Wined and dined them in true Tony Stark fashion. Made a place for them in his life bit by bit. Got attached. And then, eventually, began to fall in love.
Because that was the next step: Love. The honeymoon period where pictures of him and his new 'beau' were splashed over the glossy pages of every trashy magazine, laughing and kissing. And he wouldn't sleep with anyone else, because despite what everyone seemed to think, he did have a heart, and he did care about others, and he could fall in love like a regular person even if he did have some trust issues. And when he woke up at night, back in the cave or facing some other monstrosity, he would look over and think that maybe it would all work out, maybe there was still some hope for him.
But it never lasted. As much as he fought it, the inevitable always happened. He always ended up doing something wrong. They would get tired of his acerbic wit, his sarcastic comments, tired of his penchant for working days on end in his lab without coming out, tired of his strange affection for his robots, tired of JARVIS, tired of Iron Man, tired of him.
They would scream, yell, throw things, break things, hurt him. And he would take it because he always did. It always went this way. It never lasted. Finally, when all the insults had been shouted and his heart was completely shattered, they would leave, and he'd be left in his empty mansion, echoes of harsh words chasing him through the corridors, telling him he is 'no good', 'pathetic', 'useless', 'unlovable' and the more it happened, the more he believed it.
Lust, love, hate.
It was a pattern, unbreakable and inevitable.
That was how Tony Stark, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, was born. Not out of conceit, narcissism and entitlement like the world seemed to think. But of loneliness, pain, and a lack of self-respect. So, instead of settling down, he bed hopped. And when he felt lonely, he worked. And when he felt useless, he suited up and did some good.
And then one of his lays would enthral him once more, and the cycle would start again.
XX LUST, LOVE, HATE XX
The first time it changed was with Pepper. She was different. Mainly because his initial attempts to bed her were coolly turned down with a casual remark about business and pleasure not mixing. So, the first link in the cycle was broken.
He's still not sure if it was love, or if it was some weird sort of dependence, but he did notice that he had become closer to Pepper than anyone before. He relied on her for everything, cared for her more than anything, and he was sure she cared about him too. It was definitely love, he just doesn't know if he was in love. And when that night arises, the one where they are both drunk and on a balcony watching fireworks light up the sky, toasting to the 4th of July, he doesn't kiss her when she leans in. Instead he pulls her closer, wraps his arms around her in such a way that he can still see the fireworks, and smiles as he hears her snore lightly against his shoulder.
Their relationship changed after that. He loved her, he did, but as an assistant, a friend, a sister. And it seemed she felt the same way. And in the years that followed he realised that because of her he was never quite alone, and he was glad they'd never fallen for each other because he wasn't sure he could take her hating him, or leaving him.
And so, even though he hadn't slept with Pepper, or fallen in love with Pepper, she was significant. She was proof that Tony Stark could love someone without screwing it up. She was always there, every time the cycle completed, she was always there.
XX LUST, LOVE, HATE XX
It isn't until years later, when he has settled down and is insanely happy, that he realises that maybe he'd been doing it wrong.
XX LUST, LOVE, HATE XX
When he meets Steve he isn't quite sure what to think. He had always been one of those people that you hear about but never met, although Steve had his own unique reason for why that was, and so, despite his wealth of knowledge on the man, he is still at a loss on how to act. So he put on his figurative mask and acted like Tony Stark, the cocky bastard.
Apparently that was the wrong move.
Within minutes they loathed one another, disenchanted by the other's personality and attitude. And Tony still isn't really sure why because he was pretty enchanted with the man when he was a child. He figures it has to be something to do with never meeting your heroes. As for Steve's dislike of him he couldn't say he was surprised, Tony Stark was hardly the perfect soldier, loud, sarcastic and bad in a team. They hardly meshed.
Luckily, there was a sort of grudging partnership between Captain America and Iron Man which didn't exist between their alter egos. Despite their differences they both wanted to help people and so, after many months something resembling a friendship sprung up between the pair.
It was shaky at first. Nods in the hallways, support in team meetings, slowly letting themselves seep through their armour. They realised they were more alike than they had thought, and for two men who had very little, the thought was comforting to say the least.
And what had started out as hatred, became a friendship, and a strong one at that. It grew to be so strong that Tony couldn't quite pin point the moment where it stopped being a friendship and became a relationship. As far as he could remember there had been no declarations, no grand gestures, and definitely no sex, but after a few months of eating together most nights, watching films together on the couch and falling asleep on each other's shoulders, Tony realised that were dating. He also realised he didn't mind, in fact, after consideration, he was pretty sure he was in love.
It took a few more months for the physical aspects of their relationship to begin. Steve was understandably old fashioned and Tony was strangely ok with that. On some level he even found it adorable, but that was a very un-Tony-like level which he never spoke of. But eventually it happened, all nerves and apologies and all in all the best night of Tony's life because he had finally got what he wanted.
Someone to love. Someone who loved him. Someone who understood him better than he understood himself. And above all, someone who accepted him, flaws and all.
With Steve it had gone from hate, to love, and finally to lust and somehow it had all worked out. It seemed Tony had had it backwards all these years. Never imagining that something so beautiful could stem from such a violent hatred. But somehow it made sense that he and Steve would be so perfect together. They were the same. Both lonely and different, desperate to make a mark on the world, to protect, to save, to help. Both unlucky in love.
Hate, love, lust.
Yeah, in the end, it made sense.
A/N I liked the idea of this story, I'm not so sure about the finished product…