I remember the day I met Tony Stark.
It was the summer of 1943, two years after the United States joined World War II. A number of events transpired during those long, dark years and morale fell low as the war dragged on. After the bombing of Pearl Harbor, a Japanese invasion against American naval bases in Hawaii territory, and when Americans entered the war, the U.S. retaliated with their own form of revenge when 16 bombers took off from Tokyo and began the first of many raids against Japan. Also, in 1941 Congress passed the Executive Order 8802 in which all the Japanese-Americans were relocated to internment camps and, in 1942, passed the Executive Order 9906 where blacks could join the military forces due to the banning of racial discrimination in defense jobs. It was thought that the original message that the Executive Order 9066 sent was that Americans had the power and were not afraid to fight. but really it was because they were scared of another Japanese invasion like Pearl Harbor that pushed us into war. The one that forced my brothers and I to enlist in the army while my father, the Lieutenant Colonel of his fleet, was already fighting overseas.
The thing is though, my brothers and I were lucky to make it past the first rounds of battles. After my first year in the army, I got promoted to Captain and my brothers made their way to First Lieutenant. Unfortunately, my father perished in the Bataan March before he could make it past his original title. Afterwards, it was so eloquently called the Bataan "death march" which is accurate in all sense of the title. It was a death march; 60-80,000 Filipinos and Americans forced to walk a 65 mile trek to a prison camp with no breaks, food or water.
But that was war. War was bloody, destructive and resulted in death. A lot of death.
My brothers and I couldn't make it back home to the funeral where my mother and sisters were forced to bury an empty, closed coffin. However, while I could not be there, my mother made sure to inform me in her next letter that Howard Stark's son did make it.
Howard was my father's best friend who, also, was another soldier in my father's unit and endured that same 65 mile trek to the camps. But he was fortunate enough to manage to escape and survive despite being malnourished, dehydrated and seriously injured.
The march was his last battle fought in the war.
Now that his father was leaving the military, Tony left work and school to join the army. He would've enlisted alongside his father, however his ailing mother at home prevented him from leaving her. The funeral was his last stop before heading to war.
He was placed in my unit, under my watch, and I have to admit, when I first met him, I thought he was a narcissistic, self-centered prick that only cared about himself. That's one of the main reasons I remember the day he joined my brigade; he made an impression, even if it was a bad one. He was not the type to sacrifice. To lay down on the wire and let the other guy crawl over him.
That was the main reason why I did not trust him. I did not trust him with my life or the lives of my soldiers and he knew that I didn't which is why he made his mission to do anything he could to get under my skin and annoy the crap out of me. I had to use every ounce of self-control not to punch the guy in the face.
But then I got to know him.
He had his moments and in those moments, only around myself, he allowed his true personality to show. In those moments, I realized that the narcissistic, playboy, genius role he played was a cover up for his true feelings and self. I was drawn to him immediately. It took a long time, but eventually Tony crept onto me and by the time it dawned on me, it was too late because I was too far gone in my attraction to him.
The first time I realized I had feelings for him, I panicked.
I knew that I was different than most other guys because I did not feel the same interests in girls like others, but I suppressed it really well. I learned at a young age to ignore it which is why joining the army was easy because no one knew of the secret I buried deep inside. It never bothered me knowing that I could never have a real relationship with someone I truly love because it was going to be impossible to find the right person in the middle of a war and in the time period I lived in. Homosexuality was targeted heavily by the American government, police and military, but after WWII began, the war fundamentally changed people's original perception on those who loved the same sex. Suddenly, on the brink of war, no one was concerned with excluding lesbians and gays from the military because we needed every warm body to fight this war for us. I could have easily hid my attraction from him forever, I had gotten good at hiding what I truly felt, except I never took into account that he might've felt the same way as me.
The night before my troops and I headed to North Africa, with the plan to invade the country and link up with the British army afterwards, Tony and I were walking the halls of our compound base, talking and coming up with a strategy of how the next day would proceed. By some unfortunate accident, we ran into two men of another brigade publicly showing their affection for one another. Freezing in our spots, Tony and I glanced at each other, unsure of what to do or what to say. As a Captain, per military protocol, I was required to report on their public displays of affection and send them to the brigs so the higher officials could figure out what to do with them. While gays and lesbians were allowed into the army and policed much less, they were still treated horribly and were not allowed to be open with their sexuality. A soldier man having sex with another man was seen as a serious crime and resulted in them being sent to the brigs where guards enjoyed beating gay prisoners and, sometimes, they faced being discharged from the army. I have never been in that situation before and now that it's staring me in the face, I just knew that it would take every ounce of power in me to do what I was supposed to do.
Tony watched me and shook his head as he saw me take a step forward, but before I could actually do anything, the Captain of another brigade finds them and both suffer the consequences of loving the same gender.
Turning my back on the scene behind me, I grabbed Tony's hand and quickly sprinted away from the gay men and the angry looking official. When we made it a safe distance away, we slowed our pace and continued walking in the opposite direction, our heads down, contemplating and processing what we had just saw. It occurred to neither of us that we were still holding hands.
After a minute of comfortable silence, Tony stopped me with a hand on my chest as his other hand tightened in my own. Placing himself in front of me, his eyes flashed with fear before a sort of determination set in his brown pupils. He opened his mouth once, twice then tried a third time before sighing deeply and whispering in a hushed voice, "Oh screw it!" He grabbed my collar and shoved me into an empty strategy room, locking the door before he grabbed my head and pulled me down for a kiss. It was not gentle, it was not sweet or romantic. But it was still the best kiss I had ever experienced. My eyes closed on their own accord and my body melted into the kiss.
Slowly we pulled apart and my hand came up to caress his goatee as he looked me in the eyes and said with a ferocity in his voice, "I am tired of hiding my feelings. I am tired of being ashamed of who I am. I am just tired of everything." He stepped closer and lowered his voice, his hands gripping mine in a vice tight grasp. "I like you. No… I feel strongly for you. You're always on my mind. Your blonde hair, your sea blue eyes. The way you bit your lip when you're trying to figure out a mission plan. The way you run your hand through your hand when you're nervous or anxious. The way you stare at me when you think I'm not looking." I flushed and before I had the chance to drop my head in embarrassment, Tony grabbed my chin and forced me to keep eye contact with him. His words were sincere and his voice was steady and certainty. "I know you're Captain and probably have to report me for telling the truth, but I'd rather be sent to the brigs and discharge then go on my entire life without you knowing how I feel about you."
I do not remember if I said anything after that. But I do remember the light feeling in my chest and the butterflies in my stomach as I took in the other man in front of me. I don't remember saying anything, but I do remember pulling him back down for another kiss. The second best kiss ever because now I was certain.
Afterwards, we began to see each other in private throughout the duration of the war, making sure not to get caught like the other two men did. It would mean more than just losing my title as Captain; I would bring a bad name onto the reputation my father worked so hard to build in his 30 years of service. I could not put it to shame because who I was and who I loved. Tony understood. He did not want his family to know either, afraid of what Howard would think of this. So we were very meticulous and careful which was very painful considering how often we're ever truly alone.
When the war ended and the US and it's allies won, everyone was in high spirits. Hitler had committed suicide and Germany surrendered. Tony and I were in my private bunker at our compound base when we heard the news. I broke the news to him in an excited whisper and he gave the biggest smile I had ever seen. I kissed him softly and rested my forehead against his when I pulled away. I wanted to be close to him in this moment. While it meant nothing for our relationship, it meant something to world.
The World War had finally ended.
So our relationship continued even after the war ended with locked bedrooms, dark closets and whispered words. When my mother died a year after the war ended, Tony could not comfort in public at my mother's funeral. All he could do was offer me a handshake as the surviving men of my unit attended and the higher officials said their condolences. That's essentially how we had to act around each other when we worked, when we hung out with our other men. I had to pretend he was nothing more than a friend, then a soldier in my unit. We could not eat dinner together in a restaurant or take a walk through the park with our hands held. Eating soup on the couch in his empty house, with the shutters shut so that we could cuddle, was how we spend birthdays, anniversaries and holidays.
The worst was hiding our relationship from our families who would never understand why we would sacrifice everything in order to be a relationship.
The first time we did it was in the backseat of Tony's truck, inside his garage behind locked doors with the lights off. The first time we said 'I Love You' was whispered softly to each other as the gay bar we attended was raided and police were forcing us into handcuffs and into cars. When Tony proposed to me, it was in a back alley where he had set up a picnic to celebrate our 15 year anniversary; I accepted. 15 years of hiding, of lying and of desperation. Someday we would be husband and husband. Someday we could actually have the wedding that will bind us in life and death.
In the end, it was all worth it. Being able to have a relationship with Tony, albeit a short one full of secrecy, were the best moments of my life. He brought out a side of me that I did not even know existed. I would not trade any time spent with him for moments with a woman that I could have publicly been out in the open with and have had the opportunity to have a family with. I would never take for granted my time spent with him. I still remember the last words he said to me.
The night of July 1st, 1969, when the stalemate between the police officers and the gay community came to an end in Greenwich Village, we were leaving our makeshift home that we had lived in for 4 days. The Stonewall riots were the chance we had at liberation and we took it in stride. Tony was basking in the glory of our success and telling me what he wanted to do with me now that it was over. He said he wanted to leave to another place, a different place and start anew. We could have the family we always wanted and love each other without fear of prosecution.
Then a gunshot rang through the air, making everything and everyone go silent.
My head whipped around, my hand releasing Tony's, as I scanned to see what happened. The sight behind me looked completely untouched, but no one made a sound. There was no movement or screams or cries of someone injured. The air was eerily silent and unsettling. I scanned my surroundings once more before turning to Tony. I opened my mouth to ask him if he was okay when I got a good look at him. He was not staring at me, his gaze somewhere else. He was looking at his stomach, his face expressionless. I had asked him if he was okay, but he did not respond. I followed his eyesight and staggered in disbelief as my eyes grew wide.
A scream rippled through my vocal chords, echoing loud into the night sky, and I rushed to catch him as he began to fall forward. The wound was bleeding profusely and too heavily; he was losing blood by the second and no amount of medical equipment or medication could save him. The bullet had ruptured something important. Besides, it would not have made a difference if there was medical equipment that could save him. No doctor would ever try with all their power to save a gay man. All I could do was sob as I held my bleeding fiancé in my arms and watch the life leave his eyes and watch as our future began to fade away.
No one came near us, no came to try to help. They just stared and watched.
I tried with all my might to stop the bleeding, to help him, to do something! But Tony stopped me. He grabbed my wrists and held them tightly in his own. He had something to say to me.
"Don't… It's okay. I'm okay and everything is going to be fine." His breath staggered as he struggled to breath and speak. His hand caressed mine lovingly as he stared at me, trying to maintain eye contact. "I love you Steve. You are the best damn thing to have ever happened to me." He seemed to have accepted his fate. He knew he was going to die, however I refused to believe it.
"Shut up!" I growled, trying to pull my arms free. "Shut up, you idiot. Do not say goodbye!"
Tony laughed, despite how grossly inappropriate it was. "You're free now. You're free to love anyone you want. They can not harm you anymore."
"Who I want to love is you."
Tony smiled up at me and a tear escaped, sliding effortlessly down his cheek as his chest heaved and his voice weakened. "Listen to me. You're going to grow old. You're going to have the family you always wanted. You will live to see another day and live to love another man." He raised a hand when I went to protest, "I'm not saying you can forget all about me and pretended as if I never existed. Quite frankly, I'd be hurt and a little offended if you forget about all the great sex we had." He chuckled at his own joke and it made me smile a little because even on his deathbed he managed to stroke his large ego. "The war is over now, but the fight for our freedom is just beginning. You need to be ready and at your very best to win this fight. For me and for guys like us that want to show the world how we feel about each other. Be a hero, Steve. Because you're a hero to me," His voice faded out, his restraint on my hand loosening giving me access to my hands again, but it was too late. His head rested in my lap and his eyes closed. I watched as he let out his last breath and his body became limp in my arms.
All I could do was sit and stare at the beautiful face of the man I loved deeply. All I could think about was his last words.
You need to be ready and at your very best to win this fight. For me and for guys like us that want to show the world how we feel about each other. Be a hero, Steve. Because you're a hero to me.
Yes he could do this. For them, for himself, but mainly for Tony. For the man that never could truly feel the liberation of a life without living in fear of loving his fiancé. I glanced down at my makeshift engagement ring and my resolve was solidified.
