Ok, so This is my first attempt at a stony fanfiction, a review would be nice so I know if I messed up, or if I need to work on anything, or if you have any tips, you know...

There will be other parings with the other avengers, but Steve or the handsome playboy won't be paired with anyone else besides one another.

Small warnings: bullying mentions from when Tony was little and cap before the serum. There will be smut, and terrible fucking language, it's gonna get angsty, but I promise you a proper ending, these two will hate each other for a while with foreshadowing at untold love.

You're in for a bit of a long ride with this fiction, and always check in because I update chapters a lot.

And yes I will be posting other chapters depending on how this one goes. Um, so enjoy it.. 💟


Parts of red and gold armor, circuit boards, screwdrivers, and odd looking small missiles lay scattered across a glass top desk, with "You shook me all night long" blaring throughout the lab slash workshop at a deafening level. In the middle of this high-tech madness and overly loud rock music, a man sits hunched over the desk, sweat rolling down his forehead and his hands busied with the detailing of a new prototype.

Once all parts are properly placed and the casing is clicked on, dark brown eyes inspect the indestructible specimen of technology. With his bottom lip pinched between his teeth, he begins taking apart the phone to correct any faults- which he knows there are none, but the genius wants- needs, to keep his mind distracted.

On the outside he seems calmly absorbed in his work, on the inside he's coming to a boiling point.

If you didn't know him besides what you can read in the paper on his usual scandalous billionaire-playboy antics that degrade the company― or what pepper calls them anyway, he likes to call it having fun― all you would see is a great mind at work, except knowing of him is far different from actually knowing him. The only ones who truly know him are the team of heroes he's forced to live with and his two closest friends, one of them being his ex and the other barely around anymore.

If you knew him like they did, you could tell without a doubt that right now, this man is pissed. Not even the lint on the floor being safe from an angry outburst if it happens to get in his way.

Instead of his usual methods for dealing with the annoying things that exceed everyday bullshit, which happens to be drinking himself into a coma, or breaking shit, he chose to lock himself in his lab for six hours, he had all passcodes revoked and cut off any communication, unless you count JARVIS or his occasional "hey, buddy" to the dark grey tabby he keeps in the lab.

He adopted the stray― yes, he of all people adopted a cat, unbelievably it actually did make front page news― after finding it trapped in a pile of rubble from Loki's failed attempt at world domination, he took the cat deciding it could stay with him until it could be adopted. The lab and Tony's room became its home a week later. He started calling the cat 'Cap'― and it was when he noticed the fluffy little shit loves playing with plastic bottle caps, it has absolutely nothing to do with Captain Dickhead.

Speaking of Captain Dickhead, who is the precise cause of his quickly approaching mental breakdown and the reason why he sat with his hair a disheveled mess, much like the black shirt that rumpled to his somewhat semi-muscular form; the argument between him and the, oh so great Captain America, continues replaying in his head like a nightmare that can't be shaken― which he has had plenty of to know.

They stood merely an inch apart, his eyes almost black in contrast to their normal brown. With every breath his chest pressed against the other's as he took in the bitter words being thrown at him. "You may be as smart as him, might even look like him, Stark, but that's as close as you'll ever get. I remember the man he was and the only words I can think to describe him are honorable, brilliant, caring, and nothing. Like. You. Nothing like the lies you spread about him! A damn dead man, Stark! Your father!" The captain spat furiously. "What would he think, Stark? Of you? Of this whole thing? How you would even go as far as to call yourself a hero after everything you've done? You have no respect for me, nor this team! You could have killed them, yet you sit here acting like nothing happened!" he scoffed shaking his head with an emotionless chuckle.

He remembers how the asshole's rant continued on from there, but he'd decided not to stick around for rest of it. He'd listened to enough about why he wasn't a hero, how his selfishness could have cost the team their lives, how he was a failure. If he wanted to hear any of that shit he would have just built a time machine and went back to when his father was still alive― and drunk.

He had earlier disobeyed their almighty Captain on an order and caused the tenement they were in to collapse while the team was still fighting off a group of HYDRA experiments gone wrong― and ok, yes, Tony should have listened when Rogers ordered him not to fire anything in the already, ready to collapse building, but it was done on pure instinct.

He'd seen one of the- well, what looked like a fucking hunchback nightmare from Notre-dame sneaking up on the Captain while his back was turned, so Tony reacted― maybe doing it with a missile wasn't the best idea, but Jesus Christ, it was on Instinct.

The building had trembled and they barely made it out before the whole thing crumbled into a pile of wood, brick, and dust. The destruction of the building resulted in Rogers getting pissy and starting the argument that lead to Tony storming off, generally because he didn't want to hear another word out of the fucking guy's mouth or he would have punched him (that would have ended in him breaking his hand and he really didn't need that), but it wasn't the whole reason.

Tony stark doesn'tallow people to get to him. Most of them don't know anything about his father nor what he did to Tony, and even if they do, he never paid much attention to what they said anyway. People talk. He'd learned that at an early age― but its different when the person talking is Captain America, the man who knew his father personally, knew he was a sore spot for Tony, and went after it like a wolf for the kill.

A really big red, white, and blue wolf.

Who also happens to be an asshole.

In spandex.

•~°•°~•°•~°•°~•

He's been sitting on this old lumpy couch for hours, guilt threatening to eat him alive if he doesn't do something, anything. He knows why he should apologize, but how is the real problem.

If Stark thought he didn't see the hurt on his face before he ran off, then the playboy was a bigger idiot than Steve originally thought- or he just didn't care. Steve figured it was the latter.

He recalled watching the man retreat; the way he shook his head before turning and bolting out of the room.

It took a few hours to calm himself and only a second to grasp how cruel he'd been. He knows Tony can get just as vicious- if not worse, but he doesn't like bullies and he sure as hell won't become one. Even if it is an arrogant dick he's dealing with.

Their arguments normally end in Clint, or fury if he's around, having to force them apart, both of them being too stubborn to give in, it's always someone else who has to stop them before it gets out of hand. This time, Stark gave in― worse, he ran; normally that would count as a win, but Steve didn't normally cross a line he'd known was there.

He's got plenty of self-control. Always being careful of his temper and keeping his emotions in check. With having the role of team leader it's vital to have control over himself. Tony happens to be someone who knows exactly how to make the control slip, Steve can't figure out how Stark so easily gets to him, but what he does know, is some kind of truce needs to be made.

He stands with a stretch, his muscles aching to be out of the captain America uniform as he leaves the living area and walks down the hall towards his room. Thinking up a proper apology before going to talk with his team mate is probably for the best. No, He doesn't like the belligerent jackass, but Tony is still human, and surprisingly he does get his feelings hurt, not that he'd admit it.

When he opens the star-spangled door, (Tony thought he was hilarious on that one) his motions come to full halt and his heart sinks as if it were made from lead. His eyes rake over the Cream colored paper with finely typed wording that's littering his floor, bed, and even trailing into the bathroom.

There's a pounding against his chest, his vision hazes over with black, and his breathing becomes rapid; the sick feeling tugging at his stomach is replaced with a burning unadulterated rage.

A loud scream of "STAAAAARK!" echoes throughout the empty tower, and Captain America loses his resolve.

Damn control, damn human, damn the truce, and damn the consequences of murdering a man― no, a monster, a heartless fucking monster.

"That son of a bitch..." He growls, his face turning a dark shade of red as he rampages back down the hall towards the elevator, apology long forgotten.

•~°•°~•°•~°•°~•

He's so lost in his project that he doesn't hear the music volume lower and the British voice of his AI announce, 'Captain Rogers requests immediate access or he states the glass will be broken down, sir, may I suggest you allow him in.'- but he does hear the shatter of his lab door and the little pings as glass showers the tile.

He shoots up with a startled, "What the fuck?!" as the intruder strides through the broken shards and Tony catches a glimpse of Cap as he darts out of the lab.― he doesn't blame the cat for running, fuck, he doesn't want to be here either.

Tony rolls his eyes, swiveling in his chair so he can face the captain, his famous smirk present with amused brown eyes trailing over the spandex wearing assclown. Rogers is still in his uniform, burns and scorches litter the red, white, and blue material, his cowl is off and Tony explores the minimal burns on his face, his golden hair that's singed at the tips, a split bottom lip almost healed thanks to the serum. He can tell the Captain's pissed by his tensed shoulders, how tight his fists are clenched― oh, and the part where Rogers just smashed through his fucking door.

Tony was done- hell, beyond done with Rogers 'I'm better than you because I have morals, Golden boy, you're not a hero' bullshit since New York.

The small missile that once was a phone clinks against the glass surface and Tony's hand is slipping into the nearest gauntlet. In an instant he's out of the desk chair, cocking back his arm, and smashing a titanium encased fist into the captain's jaw. An expression of pain and surprise flashes across Rogers face as the soldier stumbles backwards, a hand coming up to cup where Tony's fist had made contact.

He can feel his lips twist into a cocky smirk― until he gets tackled to the floor by 200-pounds of extremely pissed off super-soldier, yeah, not cool at all…

His head swims until he's able to clear it and access whats happening. He can tell he's flat on his back, there's a strong hand on the arc reactor pinning him to the floor, and Rogers is knelt between Tony's legs glaring down at him. A witty remark about their positioning is on his tongue, but he decides to swallow it down for the sake of his face not becoming a punching bag.

For a while, hard breaths and the whir of machines are the only noise around them, he glares into Rogers artic blue eyes as he tries to move his arm and– oh, he can't. The hand that isn't pinning him down is holding his wrists above his head, threatening to break them at any moment.

―Fuck.

A growl emits from Steve's blood stained mouth and he can't help the small whimper he makes in return. He's seen the old man mad before, but he's neverpissed Rogers off enough to growl at- or attack him. It was a little alarming because, A. super-soldier and B. Tony isn't in his armor except for the gauntlet- which, like that's going to help much― but, backing down isn't an option, he's Tony fucking Stark.

•~°•°~•°•~°•°~•

He heard him whimper, it was faint and probably would have been overlooked by anyone who didn't have enhanced hearing, but Steve caught it.

Stark looked like a trapped animal, his expression was remaining stoic, but for a moment his eyes portrayed fear and vulnerability. Steve is close to letting him go and just walking away, but the image of torn books flashes across his mind and he's back to being seconds away from throttling the bastard.

•~°•°~•°•~°•°~•

Tony continues to glare up at the Captain, trying and failing to ignore the part of his brain that's tracing the other man's lips, noting the large re-opened gash on the bottom. He could picture the blonds stunning smile, all white teeth and soft pink― shit, okay, his brain needs to stop, as of, like, ten seconds ago. He does go for guys, don't get that wrong, but not golden boy pricks like Rogers. Judging by the period Mr. 90 year old blushing virgin came from, he probably doesn't have a good thought on gays, lesbians, or anal for that-

"Answer me, Stark!" Tony's eyes snap up to meet Rogers glare. Great. He hadn't even realized the asshole was talking.

Instead of asking what he said and getting a bigger headache to add to the concussion he probably has from getting slammed into the floor, Tony swiftly hooks his legs around the blond's waist and squeezes. Rogers makes a very unmanly squeaking sound and Tony can feel the Captain tense in his grip.

His distraction works, the hold loosens on his wrists and Tony takes the opportunity to get a hand free without Rogers noticing.

"STARK! What in the-" Tony doesn't give him a chance to finish, slamming his fist into the side of Rogers face and knocking the larger man off of him. He has enough time to get on his feet, before a sharp right hook to the stomach sends him crashing back down onto the linoleum.

The pain thrumming through his upper body and head causes a groan to rumble in his throat as he rolls onto his side, eyes clenched shut.

"Put on the suit, I want to go a few rounds." There's a coolness to Captains command as it's said with a serious look in his eyes.

The pain slips to the back of Tony's mind and he gives the Captain a dangerous smirk. Just this once, Tony Stark will follow an order. If Rogers wants a fight, then that's exactly what he'll get.