Tumblr prompts: Stony prompt Steve works as a bartender, Tony asks for "Magic Mike"
I've never seen MM so this pretty much has nothing to do with it, but Its really good so...
The bar was slow, the music low. The time was nearing last call and Steve was busy cleaning glasses. A man he had never seen before, sat at the far end, nursing a drink. The night had been easy, nothing outrageous or exciting had happened. The bar had been packed, people from all walks of life imbibing in a bit of liquid courage. But the man at the end of the bar had been the one that caught Steve's attention.
He was dressed nicely but his face was scruffy and his hair was messed up in a way that told Steve it wasn't deliberate. He hadn't spoken more than his drink order to anyone. He simply sat on the stool staring into the amber liquid.
Steve was used to strange people, as a bartender he saw all kinds. He heard the best and worst stories. Some as farfetched as the day was long, some sad and painful, but others happy and hopeful. He had never, not once, asked to hear the stories of the people who sat in front of his bar, sipping on their drinks. The dark haired man at the end of the bar was different for some reason. Something pulled Steve, compelled him to put down the glass he was cleaning and move to the end of the bar.
It was 2:30 in the morning, it was last call and closing time, but Steve wasn't ready to kick the man out.
"I can't offer you any more scotch, but I could get you something else, if you aren't ready leave." Steve wiped his hands on the black apron around his waist.
"You wouldn't happen to have Magic Mike back there would you?" The man inclined his head to the back room behind Steve.
"I'm sure I should understand that reference, but I don't." Steve filled a glass with ice and water, placed it in front of the man and took the scotch. "Sorry," he said holding up the glass, "regulations. Don't want to lose my liquor license."
"Right. That could put a damper on a bar." The man's voice was somber and sad.
"You know, I'm a pretty good listener, if you want to talk." Steve filled a glass of water for himself, and took a sip.
"You don't want to hear my sob story. I'm sure it's the same story you hear every day."
"I doubt that."
"Why?" The man looked up from the coaster he had started ripping up, "what makes you so sure it's any different?"
"Because it's your story, no one else's."
Everyone deserved to know that their story was special. No one's story was exactly the same. Steve didn't mind listening to people's stories, everyone had them. Sometimes he wished he had someone to listen to his. It was for that reason that he walked out from behind the bar and sat down beside the man on the stool.
"I'm sure you want to go home. Hanging around in a closed bar with a pathetic excuse for a customer can't be on your list of things to do at nearly three am."
"Actually, I am home. I live above the bar. This is my place." Steve motioned around the room.
The man raised his eyebrows in shock, "The howling commando is... you're The Captain?"
"I was. Now I'm just Steve." Steve held out his hand and the man took it.
"Tony," he said shaking Steve's hand. "No offense, but you don't look old enough to be a captain."
Steve chuckled, "I get that alot. Good genes." Steve smiled, he was proud of the bar. It was named in honor of his team. A rag tag band of brothers and sisters that ran special ops during the Iraq war. It was because of one commando though, not the whole team, that Steve even had the bar. The fallen hero that Steve owed his life to. His bar was a constant reminder of the man he had lost, but it was a good kind of memory. It was a memory filled with love and laughter.
The man, Tony hummed and nodded his head.
"I should be going." Tony said, but made no effort to leave his seat.
"Got somewhere pressing to be at three in the morning?" Steve asked, he wasn't sure why, but he couldn't let Tony walk out the door, not then anyway.
"Sadly, no, but I shouldn't stay here." Tony sighed.
"I don't mind. It cuts through the boredom while I clean up."
"But you aren't cleaning up."
Steve laughed, "no, I'm not. Nor do I want to."
"Is that why you're sitting here waiting for me to tell you my life story?"
"Hardly. You look like you need a friend, and you happen to be in luck, because I'm an awesome friend. So, what's got you down? Girlfriend troubles?"
Tony snorted and shook his head.
"Boyfriend troubles?" Steve added, a small smile on his face.
Tony went silent and Steve nodded.
"Ah, I see. I've been there a time or two myself. What happened?"
Tony shook his head, "I don't really want to talk about it."
"That's fine, I understand." And he did. He wasn't going to push for Tony's story. If the man wanted to talk, talk he would.
Tony stood up, "What do I owe you?" He asked taking out his wallet.
Steve waved him off, "no charge. You didn't even get to drink your scotch." He walked with Tony to the door, sure he would never see him again. He watched through the window as the man hailed a taxi and vanished. Steve was sure he would never see Tony again, and it didn't sit well with him. There was something about the man that kept Steve's head buzzing.
Tony sat in the back of a taxi for an hour driving around the city, unsure where he was going. He didn't have a home any more, Reed had seen to that. He hadn't wanted to leave the bar, but he could hardly stay there. Steve was a nice enough guy, he appreciated the company and the fact that the guy hadn't forced him out right after last call. He however wasn't in the business of imposing upon people. That was how he found himself homeless.
He had let Reed have the penthouse until his work on thermodynamics was finished. But really, he just didn't want to live in a place that reminded him of the relationship that had so long ago gone sour. The worst part of the whole thing was that Tony had expected it. He had seen it coming. He'd known Reed well enough to know that eventually he would get tossed aside for some research project or another. Left out in the rain forgotten about, like an old toy that had lost its shine.
He'd seen Reed do it before, but he had hoped he would be the one to change the man. Worlds dumbest smart guy Johnny liked to say. He should have listened to the hot head when he had the chance. Johnny had tried to warn him off, stop Tony from making a mistake, but Tony was just as hot headed and refused to listen. Served him right.
"Hey buddy, I'm officially off the clock, this is where I leave you."
Tony looked out the window, shocked to see The Howling Commando again.
"Pay up and get out."
Tony tossed a wad of cash and stepped out into the near dawn. The rain had started sometime while he was in the back of the cab. The sun was coming up in the east, turning the black night sky to pink. It had been along time since he'd been awake long enough to see a sunrise. The cab drove off leaving Tony to lament about the rudeness of New York cabbies.
The lights of the bar were still on but he didn't bother seeing if anyone was there. Steve had said he lived above the bar, but he wasn't about to bother the man. Instead Tony started walking. Maybe he could find a motel to sleep in. He internally cringed at the thought. He was Tony Stark, genius billionaire, and yet in the Bronx that all meant relatively nothing. He had no place to go and he didn't want to bother Pepper and Happy.
"Tony?" Steve's voice broke his thoughts. Steve was standing in the alley between his bar and another business, two large trash bags sat on the ground beside him. "Thought you went home." He said stamping out the cigarette that was in his hand.
"Well I was... Then I remembered I don't have one."
Steve's brow crinkled in confusion, "you're homeless?"
"Kind of? It's a long story and I'd love to tell it about as much as I'd love to walk back to Manhattan. Is there... Do you know where the nearest motel is?"
Steve hefted the trash bags into the bin and wiped his hands off on the black apron he was still wearing. It blended perfectly with his black pants, the only reason Tony knew it was an apron and not part of the pants was because the dark blue shirt with the red and white shield in the center was cut off by part of the apron.
"I think theres one about five miles that way." Steve pointed in the direction Tony had just come.
Tony groaned. He was tired and he wanted to sleep. He should just called Pepper. She would send Happy to pick him up and he could get a room at the hilton or something. He should have thought everything out better, he was a genius after all. However, when it came to Reed he found he was never too bright, why should his sudden lack of living quarters be any different.
"I'm just finishing up, if you need a place to stay I have a pretty comfy couch."
Tony had never had a stranger be so nice to him. Steve had no reason to offer a place to sleep, but he was.
"Why would you do that? You don't know me. I could be a serial killer for all you know."
Steve cocked an eyebrow, "this is true, I don't know you, but I know what it's like to be homeless. As for the serial killer part... I was the leader of a special ops team in Iraq, good luck taking me down." He winked and smiled.
He was too tired to consider any of what Steve had just said. Had he been more awake he would have asked about the special ops. He also really wanted to know how the man before him, knew what it was like to be homeless, instead he nodded. "A couch would be heaven right now."
Steve's smile grew wider, "Alright, come on in."
Tony followed Steve back into the bar looking forward to ending the night and putting the disaster of the day before behind him.
MIGHT continue this, but not 100% sure