Struggle
ooo
It starts out with harsh words, voices rising steadily louder, tones increasingly acidic.
"You always think you're right, and you know it, Tony."
"Oh yeah? And you don't think you're always right?"
"No, I'm not claiming that I am, but at least I think my judgement is rather fair, I'm not as self-centred as you."
"Maybe, yeah so I am a self-centred son of a bitch. Is that what you want me to say? Fine, I've said it, but at least I'm not a self-righteous hypocrite, Steve. Hell, if you didn't think you're always right then why are we even arguing at all?"
"Because you were WRONG and you KNOW IT."
"Yeah well SO FUCKING WHAT."
"SO FUCKING WHAT? I'LL TELL YOU WHAT."
Steve grabs the fuming man's face, hands shaking, as Tony stands stubbornly still.
"YEAH?"
That one word comes out as shaky breath, betraying Tony's own resolve as his whole body trembles.
"Fight me, beat me, scream at me, argue and prove me wrong endlessly, do whatever you want to me. But don't you DARE throw your life away recklessly knowing that it would be the one thing in this world that could or would ever actually kill me."
Tony's breath catches in his throat, the words leaving his lips almost lamely.
"I didn't know."
"Well now you do."
It's a struggle, at first. It isn't so much as push and pull, not so much as resistance, but it's disbelief that roots Tony to the ground as Steve shakily brings their faces closer, and then closes the gap in between them.
Tony's lips stay still, and Steve can feel his heart plummet. He pulls apart for a moment, unsure as ever, when only a moment ago he was so sure. He can't help but cry, the tears so hot and prickly, and he lets them flow freely, pride be damned.
The moment Tony sees those tears, the gears within him are set in motion. A moment ago his feet were frozen, but he felt his heart kick start. It wasn't just the tears that moved him forward, but it was the struggle in the sky blue eyes that mirrored his own, and he knew that the man was facing the same battles as he did.
He wasn't alone after all.
He runs his hands slowly over Steve's arms, moving past them, gently cupping his face in both hands. He let's out a shaky breath he didn't know he was holding, then presses his lips onto Steve's.
For a moment he remains still, and then all Tony knows is the warmth of Steve's arms curling around him, the softness of his lips melting against his own as the back of his knees meet with the edge of the couch and the both of them tumble onto it, without any resistance, without so much as a struggle.