I Watched You Change

It took Steve three years and eight months before he was finally able to convince himself that it wasn't going to work – three years and eight months of lying to himself and making excuses as to why the chemistry just … dissolved into nothing. It started off great and Steve found an instant connection, despite their hot-headed personalities. Perhaps that had been the problem – everything happened way too fast and it didn't give either of them the chance to think about what they were getting into. It didn't matter now, anyway. What's done is done as they say, and – if he was being truthful to himself – he doubted anything different would happen if he had the chance to do it all over again.

It took Steve three years and eight months to open his eyes and see Tony Stark for what he truly was – a ruthless stranger. Looking back on it now, he had gotten his heart broken several times and he hadn't even realised it – missed anniversaries, rain-checks on important events, words lacking tact, the distant void between them. If only Steve had been paying more attention and hadn't been living in avoidance, he might not have wasted so much time and energy on something that was too broken and damaged to fix.

His bags were packed and his car keys were sitting on his knee, the jingling sound the only noise in the house he shared with Tony in Malibu. He probably should have already left – after all, Tony probably wouldn't even notice he had gone, since the man barely saw him anyway – but something was holding him back. Perhaps it was the hot-headedness, perhaps Steve wanted to lash out and curse the man who had ruined what he had thought was a great relationship. Or maybe he just wasn't the kind of person to run away, to leave their problems behind and act as though they hadn't existed. He had done enough of that and it was time to confront them, no matter how unsure Steve was with how the confrontation was going to go.

When the door finally opened and Tony walked into the house, Steve didn't move from where he was sitting. He watched as Tony moved deeper into the room, those chocolate brown eyes – eyes that he lost himself in on more than one occasion – having yet to acknowledge his presence.

"Tony." Steve finally voiced when it became apparent that the man was in another world and wouldn't be coming out of it on his own any time soon. It was both surprising and expected when Tony looked up from his mobile and locked eyes with Steve, how impatient he became at the sight of him. It was as though he didn't even know how to act around him anymore. Why did it take so long for Steve to see any of it? How did it take so long to see how little they knew about each other anymore?

"Oh." You're still here was left unsaid. Steve didn't re-act to Tony's words, merely remained seated on the couch, his hands in his lap. "Hi. Good day?"

"We need to talk." Steve replied instead, watching as Tony's eyes moved back to his mobile, annoyance flickering quickly before disappearing.

"Yeah, can it wait? I'm kind of busy at the moment and stopping would just derail the progress."

For the first time all day, Steve felt something inside of him flare up. His fists tightened into balls and his jaw clenched, but Tony didn't notice. No, his fingers continued to fly over the keyboard of his mobile as he turned and made to leave the room, Steve forgotten from his mind. Had Tony felt nothing for him the whole time? Or when did his affections stop? He rooted his mind for a memory, something that could help him pinpoint exactly when things started to go wrong, but nothing came up. And it was so infuriating that Steve was moving before he could think any more about it. Standing to his feet – the car keys now clenched tightly in his hand – he reached for the closest object – which happened to be a glass orb on the side-table – and threw it as hard as he could in Tony's direction. At that point in time, he didn't care if he hit the man or not. Perhaps it was a good thing that it merely hit the wall a few feet from Tony.

"What the fuck?" Tony shouted, shocked and annoyed, his entire body whirling around to face Steve once more.

"Oh, good – I have your attention now." Steve said. His voice was tight. He didn't know why he was upset, why his anger had yet to subside, why the longer he looked at Tony, he seemed to grow all the more agitated. But underneath all of that anger and resentment, Steve was tired. "I'm leaving."

"Well, that's great – didn't think it required you throwing glass against the wall, though."

A wave of overwhelming fury engulfed Steve before it was immediately doused, his bones feeling heavy from where he stood on the other side of the room from Tony. "No," he said, shaking his head, "that's not what I meant. I'm leaving."

Steve watched as Tony's outrage turned into confusion and then – to his surprise – amusement. He had no idea why he would think any of it was funny, but then again, Tony was a very unpredictable character. No-one truly knew what was going on in his head. "And why, Stevie, are we leaving?"

His eyes narrowed. "I think we both know the answer to that."

"Mm, I don't, actually, no." Tony replied. Steve could feel his body slowly tensing as he fought down the sudden desire to close the distance between them and wrap his fingers around Tony's neck, squeezing until that smug smirk of his morphed into something else entirely. A dark thought, but Steve couldn't help himself. Tony was infuriating.

"I'm tired of this, Tony. This … whatever this is … it's not working out anymore. It wasn't for a long time now."

"Okay. Safe trip, wherever the hell that's to."

And that was it. Tony just … he didn't even … Steve had no idea what he was expecting by confronting Tony, but it certainly hadn't been him just accepting that they weren't working anymore. Or … he knew that Tony knew they were done, but he hadn't expected Tony to be so easy about it. Chest rising and falling with gradual speed, Steve mentally cursed. He should have just left, shouldn't have even stayed to tell Tony that he was leaving, because why would he care? The man was making his way out of the room again, looking as though nothing was wrong and –

"Do you want to know why I'm leaving?" Steve heard himself saying, voice loud and arrogant, and he had no idea what he was doing, but the words were escaping him without him having to think, so he wasn't going to try to stop them now. Only when Tony turned around again, his arms falling to his sides in frustration, did Steve continue. "It's because you're pathetic and a pig."

"Is that supposed to hurt my feelings?" Tony asked. Steve could hear the sarcasm in his voice, and he could also see that Tony was finding this funny – hilarious, even. "Because, I'm going to be honest with you, honey, that was pretty lame, even for you."

"Maybe," Steve shrugged his shoulders, "maybe not. I'm passed caring at this point."

"So …?"

He wanted to fight. His body was suddenly thrumming with unused energy, making Steve feel as though he was going to squirm in place – that or just run and attack Tony. But just as much as he wanted to yell and scream and slam his fists into Tony and the furniture … he also wanted to go. His body was tense, but his bones felt dense, exhaustion weighing in, not to be forgotten.

"You knew this wasn't going to last," Steve asked, "didn't you?" He didn't need to wait to get an answer from Tony since he already knew what it would be. "What I'm confused about is why you never just …"

"You were a good fuck." The words were spoken so casually that Steve actually flinched when they reached his ears. It was something that should have had him charging at Tony, but it made Steve sick to his stomach, the muscles in his abdomen clenching up painfully. And Tony didn't even seem to notice the flash of pain and humiliation that flickered in Steve's eyes. He just continued talking, a hint of a smirk ready to break through. "To be honest with you, I'm surprised you didn't get out a long time ago."

"So this was all a game to you, just waiting to see how long it'll take for me to snap out of it and leave?" His voice sounded so strange to his own ears. Tony's explanation, his detached words … God, was he serious?

"Pretty much, yeah – didn't think you'd last this long, so props."

Steve chuckled without humour, shaking his head. "Yeah, well, the joke is on you, too, buddy. You just spent your money on me for three and a half years." It was a poor comeback, Steve knew that. He knew that Tony knew that, too.

Tony snorted. "I have more money than I know what to do with. Trust me, you didn't make a dent."

"How does this work, exactly?" Steve asked, frustration welling up inside of him again, temporarily overshadowing the tiredness. "This is a game, right, so what? How does this work?"

"You want to know how I fucked you over." Tony raised an eyebrow. "Okay. Well, picking you out wasn't hard – you were so gullible, it honestly wasn't all that hard to string you around." Steve felt his heart pounding against his rib-cage. A slight tremor had settled over his limbs. Everything that Tony was saying to him was like a shot right to the chest. It shouldn't have hurt as much as it was in that moment. "Getting you into my bed was easier. You were so desperate for attention – you still are."

Steve was biting down on his jaw with so much force; he could feel his teeth grinding together. "I loved you."

"A lot of people love me." Tony stared straight at Steve, never blinking, never straying. "It doesn't faze me."

Against his better judgment, Steve flinched for the second time in the span of only a few minutes. The way Tony was talking to him, the way he was acting … he was a completely different person. Steve felt his cheeks heating up and it only incensed him more. He had been so calm and numb before – how could he have let Tony get the better of him? Not only that, but Steve already knew that Tony was a horrible person, so why was it a blow to hear him say such things to him? Perhaps it was because Tony was speaking the words, bringing them to life.

"So there were others?" He didn't know why he asked the question. Steve wanted to know all of what Tony was guilty of doing wrong in their relationship – that was what he was telling himself, anyway. "While we were together, did you –"

Before he could get the rest out of his mouth, Tony threw his head back and laughed. Steve swallowed painfully. "Are you fucking kidding me? Steve, God, that's priceless." After collecting himself, Tony looked at him, and Steve forced himself to not look away. He asked the question – stupidly – so the least he could do was look Tony in the eye when he answered. "Don't be stupid. Of course, there were others. Read the tabloids – I'm never exclusive."

"I've known for a while that things were done, but hearing you say all of this, the way you're saying this …" Steve trailed off. Why he said that out loud, he had no idea. "I wasted three fucking years on you." The anger was back, drowning out the weariness. In the back of his mind, Steve knew that when he finally left and found sanctuary somewhere else, he would be utterly exhausted, but the thought was fleeting and soon vanished to the recesses of his mind. It was a matter for a later time.

"Yadda, yadda, I'm a bad person," Tony rolled his eyes, making a waving motion with his hand, "whatever. I'm tired of this. You were leaving?"

"This will catch up with you. You fuck around, because it's fun, but I'm telling you now, it'll come back to you ten-fold."

"Coming from you, Steve, it's like a puppy trying to intimidate a giant. Now if you don't mind, I have business to attend to."

Steve said nothing else. It surprised him. He wanted nothing more than to punch him in the face, to rain his fists down on his body, to make him hurt like he was hurting. But he did none of that, merely gripped the car keys, collected his suitcase full of clothes – everything else was materialistic, useless things that Tony bought him – and walked right out the door without giving Tony a second look. He barely got both feet out the door before it was slammed shut, and Steve clenched his jaw even tighter as he made his way to his car, blinking away the tears that were building up and threatening to fall.

He wanted Tony to hurt like he was, but how were you to hurt someone with no heart?

After putting what little belongings he had into the backseat of his car, Steve climbed in and started the engine. Numbly, he pulled out of the long driveway and didn't dare to look back. Perhaps he was afraid he would be tempted to stay – or maybe he didn't want to possibly see Tony standing in the doorway, a smug look on his face and a laugh coming from his mouth. No, Steve had lost Tony a long time ago.

So he kept driving, unsure of where he was going or what he was going to do. Maybe the pain would fade, as would the disappointment. But it would fade. In the end, it all faded.