Rated M for minor drug use and explicit sexual content
"God, yes..… harder!"
Tony is panting, hands and knees in contact with the mattress beneath him as he rocks back in forth.
He thrusts his hips back and squeezes his eyes tightly shut, attempting to get a better angle. He cries out when he finds it, his G spot receiving stimulation with each thrust. It pushes him close to the edge, and he rides it out, clutching the sheets tightly as his jaw falls open in deep, ragged gasps.
"FUCK," he exclaims, feeling his stomach clench deliciously as his tight, hot hole receives a glorious pounding. "I'm cumming…" He hisses, his body seizing up as he silently orgasms, thrusting his hips back stiffly for a few more seconds before falling limply into the mattress. Tony moans contently at the sensation of being pulled out of, not bothering to move as a very high Steve Rogers clears his throat from behind him.
"How was that..?" Steve asks huskily, standing to grab a towel to clean up the various liquids that had made quite the mess on Tony's sweaty skin.
Tony laughs into the mattress, rolling over slowly and moaning in place of using words. Steve's sexy smile at that makes Tony's heart skip a beat in his chest. He has to take a moment to catch his breath as Steve gently wiped the sticky mess off of him, the smile never leaving his face.
"Come here, dummy," Tony mumbles, wrapping his arms around Steve's neck and pulling him against him. "I fucking love you," he whispers, kissing the soft skin just below his temple, relishing in the musky scent of his cologne.
"I love you too, Tones," Steve slurs, slumping beside Tony to stare at him lovingly.
It's a Monday night. Tony had had a rough day, spending most of it in bed (instead of going to class) and the rest of it impulsively buying unnecessary things to try and make himself feel better. Depression is creeping back up on him, but he hides it with forced smiles and spontaneous ideas to keep Steve distracted and convinced that he is fine. But Tony isn't fine and he is getting tired of pretending.
Tony had suggested, that Monday night after he got off work from his part-time fast food job, that Steve and him get high instead of doing the homework he was behind on or getting a good night's rest. Steve had agreed because he loves Tony unconditionally, and rarely questions the things he wants to do. After watching Tony's favorite movie and ordering McDonalds at midnight, they found themselves in the bedroom. After frantically losing himself in the sensation of sweaty, high sex, Tony laid quietly beside Steve and played mindlessly with his soft, blonde hair, his mind reeling.
Somehow he had fallen into an unhealthy, lazy routine of skipping classes and drinking himself stupid most nights. He hates being sober, and Steve knows this. It's the reason he made Tony swear he was going to go to counseling, and because Tony also loves Steve unconditionally, he had promised. But every time Steve looks at him with worry and asks if he had made an appointment yet, Tony looks away and quietly tells him that no, he hadn't. He knew he was breaking a promise, but he was terrified. Terrified of the idea of opening up to someone that he didn't know. To anyone at all. Because Tony Stark hates being vulnerable and he hates bringing up his problems. He especially hates being weak, and something about going to a counselor to bitch about his feelings seems…weak.
Steve doesn't ever say too much to overstep his boundaries and express his worry, and instead continues to buy Tony alcohol because he is older than him and give him sex when he needs it because he likes when he gets to see such a vulnerable side of Tony that no one else gets to see. Besides, there's no harm in benefiting from it as well. He and Tony have been dating and sleeping together since the 4th day they had met. The connection and strong sexual tension between them had been too much to ignore. They had started dating right before Tony started his first year of college, and so far the relationship has been good for the both of them.
"Something on your mind?" Steve asks tiredly.
"Just high…" Tony lies, guilt causing him to roll onto his other side and clutch at his chest with the hand that is not intertwined with Steve's. It hurts, lying to Steve's face, because all he wants to do is help and be a listening ear as to what's going on, but Tony won't allow it. Tony is fine on his own, or so he's convinced himself, and there's no need to become unnecessarily vulnerable.
Reaching over to turn off the light, Tony settles back down into the warmth of the blanket and of Steve, dreading the fact that he has to be up in a few hours for class. He considers not going—again-but that will only make him hate himself more.
It feels like Tony has only been asleep for a few minutes when Steve's phone loudly interrupts his dreaming with a loud, frantic alarm. Tony groans as Steve rolls out of bed and shuts it off, urging Tony to get out of bed, before he slips into the bathroom. Tony listens to the sound of Steve urinating as he tries to find the motivation to get out of bed. It's another 20 minutes before he finally gains the strength to pull on yesterdays clothes and sandals. Tony doesn't miss the look on Steve's face as he takes another rip from the bong on the table before stumbling out the door and following Steve to his car. It is a cold and windy morning, but Steve turns on the heat as soon as he turns over the engine, and in a short 5 minutes, they're back in front of Tony's dorm.
Steve seems distracted when Tony leans over and gives him a quick kiss before getting out of the car and making his way to the entrance of the building that towers before him. He looks back to wave at Steve, but he is not looking, and Tony tries not to think about the fact that Steve is probably wondering why Tony had to take a hit before starting his day.
"For gosh sakes Tony, it's 7 in the morning! Can't you be sober right now?" He probably would have said. But Steve will never truly voice this because he cares too deeply for Tony, and judging him is not his style. Supporting and caring for him? Sure. Encouraging him to make better life choices? Maybe. But Tony gets awfully defensive whenever alcohol or drugs are brought up, because he has convinced himself that he needs them to function.
"Steve, I can't sleep without Advil PM and I can't be happy without half a bottle of vodka," he used to joke, but Steve knows that his young boyfriend's liver will start to tell him otherwise in a few years. Besides, it was under the influence of a whole flask of whiskey when Tony had quite literally fallen into Steve's room once and demanded to know where his gun was kept. He had been laughing and smiling like an idiot when Steve hid the gun and alcohol from him and insisted that he get some rest instead. Later Steve would give Tony a look of sheer disbelief when he says he wants to shoot himself, but he won't exactly be surprised either, because why else would he ask for a pistol?
Steve had only seen that side of Tony once, but it was enough to scare him into never fully trusting Tony to be alone again, sober or otherwise. From that day forward, Steve began to understand why Tony drank. Tony is constantly battling a sadness and discontent that bubbles under the surface of his mind. 'Depressed' is sometimes too mild of a word to describe what Steve thinks is really going on in there. Tony drinks to make things easier. Easier to say. Easier to do. Steve is smart enough to know that Tony is always thinking about ending his life. He is only brave enough to voice it when he has had enough alcohol to numb the pain and the fear that is constantly clawing at his insides.
Brave enough to do it if Steve hadn't been there to stop him.
Steve also knows that despite the promise Tony made him, he will never go to counseling and he will never stop faking smiles and telling him that he is fine. Tony cries more frequently than one might think, but he has gotten too good at turning away and hiding the sobs that shake his body and the tears that wet his soft cheeks. Steve wishes Tony would be less embarrassed to show his feelings in front of him, but he always stays silent and pretends not to notice when Tony will randomly start sniffling and shaking for a few brief moments of weakness. Steve wonders what it is like to have so many mental breakdowns on such a regular basis. They are subtle and often brief, but they go unnoticed by everyone but Steve.
Steve doesn't mind Tony's hidden sensitivity most of the time, because there have been occasions where it is a good thing too. Tony will sometimes go out of his way to make Steve dinner or buy him flowers. Or sometimes they will make love so passionately that Tony will sob quietly afterwards and repeatedly tell Steve how much he loves him. Moments like that are what Steve lives for, and he'll admit it feels pretty good to watch the great Tony Stark cry while being fucked by him. Yeah, Steve lives for that.
Tony trudges up the stairs to his dorm and fumbles in his pocket for his keys once he reaches his door. He sighs at the quietness of his neat, lonely room while he grabs a towel and a bottle of shampoo. A quick glance in the mirror confirms how bad his bedhead is, and so he heads down the hall for a hot shower. The hit he had taken from the bong a few moments earlier is starting to catch up with him, as the shower and shampoo feels a little better than usual. The world spins around him as he reluctantly steps out and dries off, aware that he has class across campus in a half hour.
After dressing in something comfortable and suitable for the windy weather, Tony grabs his backpack and makes his way to the building where his 8am class is located. Along the way, he stops at a coffee stand for a latte and a danish. A few moments later, he finds himself sitting in a boring economics lecture, only half-paying attention as he takes half-assed notes.
He's tired, wishing he had made the effort to get more sleep. To his surprise, however, the day goes by fairly quickly and by 2pm, he is done with classes. Steve is busy all day, and Tony had planned on spending time with him so it breaks his heart a little when he remembers Steve has classes until 10pm.
Fuck, he thinks, swinging his car keys around his finger aimlessly. He is walking to the parking garage where he keeps his car until he needs it, which would be now. Although Steve might be busy with classes, Tony has had a key to his apartment since the first month of them dating, and so he drives there any lets himself in.
Steve has a roommate named Clint to help pay the rent. Clint also happens to sell weed— a lot of weed. After a few minutes of petting Steve's cat, Tony stumbles into Clint's room and finds the hiding spot for three mason jars full of marijuana. He came here with one thing in mind, but he knows he probably shouldn't have. He has a ton of work he is behind on, and he knows he should use his free time to catch up on it, but he does not.
Ignoring the guilt that stirs in his gut, Tony rolls himself a decent joint after taking his pick from three different strands. He settles on a sativa called 'Dream Queen,' and wonders if smoking it will make the homework he has to do later more exciting.
Later, on the roof of the parking garage, Tony crouches in a corner and plops his backpack and plate of tacos (that he picked up on the way) down and sits. Taking one more paranoid glance around,—thankful for the random car he is hiding behind— Tony pulls out his joint and a lighter. He lights one end and puffs on the other experimentally, trying to remember when the last time was that he'd smoked one of these things. It had certainly been some time, and he is surprised that he was even able to roll one. The taste in his mouth is sweet and familiar as he savors a long drag, filling his lungs with beautiful, chemical relief.
Maybe he should worry about his habits. After all, it's not likely that he'll get anything done today. He's only a few hits in and already his brain has started to shut off. But that's what he likes. In his humble opinion (and his vast experience), nothing beats the intoxicated mind of a depressed adolescent.. But that's also the problem. Because Tony isn't really an adolescent anymore. He has adult problems and adult responsibilities, yet every day is such a goddamn struggle. And depression is something he constantly denies, but every time he talks about something he is feeling to Steve, Steve tells him, "that sounds like a symptom of depression, Tones."
Tony is quick to shut him up every time, probably because he sounds horribly right, and probably because he don't want to admit to himself that he is.
Either way, Tony pushes all thoughts aside as he focuses on standing. Already, the satisfying affects of the drug are taking over his thin body, and Tony will never admit how much of a struggle it is to get to the elevator and ride it 5 stories down to street level.
His legs carry him numbly forward until he reaches the street that is littered with shops and restaurants and bustling with people. Tony's favorite cafe, Espresso Art, is uncharacteristically quiet, but he is thankful for this as he buys a hookah and sits at a table in the front. He pulls out his laptop to get studying, but he quickly realizes that isn't going to happen. Tony tries to write an essay but catches himself staring blankly at the screen of his laptop for long periods of time on end, and eventually puts it away all together.
Yes, he definitely likes this feeling.
"Tony, you're in pain.. I can st-,"
"No! No, k-keep going.."
It's several nights later. Tony will later swear that he hadn't planned on smoking so much, but it's only the second week into the month and Tony has smoked a LOT. And frequently too. Again, not planned, but it happened regardless and so here he is. High. Steve taking him missionary this time. Watching Tony's face scrunch tightly in pain while Steve slowly slips in and out of him. It's happened a few times before, the pain with sex, but Tony had never felt such agony. He fakes pleasure, for Steve's sake, but when Steve throws his head back with his mouth open and his eyes closed, Tony grinds his teeth and lets his face show exactly what he's feeling as his nails dig into the sheets. He's thankful that Steve keeps his eyes closed (maybe he won't see the tears that have started to slip out), but by the time he pulls out and finishes on Tony's stomach, Tony is frozen in pain. Steve sees it on his face and is immediately frantic.
"Oh my God, you're in a lot of pain!" He exclaims, jumping up quickly to grab his bathrobe. He throws it on Tony and starts to wipe up the mess, mumbling apologies as Tony sits up slowly.
"Steve, no.. I'm fine." He says, but then his body betrays him (again) and he is crying, covering his face with his hands so Steve doesn't have to see.
"Tony! I said I could stop. I wanted to stop!" He babbles, desperation and regret laced in his tone, his wide eyes indicate that he might cry too. Tony shudders out more sobs and tries to get ahold on his emotions, aware of how high he is but also aware of how much pain he is in.
"Why didn't you tell me to stop?" Steve says quietly, angrily almost, but not with Tony. Steve hates hurting Tony and Tony knows this.
"Because," Tony sputters, wiping his eyes, "I'm tired of always ruining sex. I like sex with you. I was having a good time and so were you. I wasn't going to ask you to stop."
"But baby, if you're hurting…"
"I'm a big boy, I can take it." Tony smirks, trying to take the awkward tension out of the air. Prior to the pain setting in, when Tony and Steve were taking it slow, the sex had been casual and oddly laid back. But Tony loved that kind of sex with Steve. Their nights of love-making ranged from hot and passionate to relaxed. Tonight even, they engaged in casual conversation about the dreams they had had the night before and what brand of lubricant they were going to purchase next, because the current bottle was nearly empty. Tony had even joked, as Steve slipped the tip in and out gently, "this must be the kind of sex people have after 20 boring years of marriage," and Steve had laughed.
In the present, however, Tony is wiping his eyes and crawling slowly out of the bed, hoping that getting dressed will help.
Two more hits later, Tony and Steve walk out the door hand-in-hand. Tony had insisted that he take a cab because it was late and Steve looked ridiculously tired, but Steve had promised it wouldn't be any trouble for him to take Tony back to his dorm. Tony had also begged for Taco Bell and so Steve was stopping there as well.
In the car, Tony shivers uncontrollably in the cold while he waits for the heat to kick on. Steve is quiet during the drive to Taco Bell, and while they sit in the drive thru, Tony goes over his order with Steve so that he won't forget like he sometimes does. Tony doesn't mean to come off like an asshole, but he does nonetheless and he can immediately tell he's done something to piss off Steve. It's silly, honestly, but the he is being unknowingly patronizing because Steve can be innocent and clueless sometimes and Tony just wants to make sure Steve gets his order right. Plus Tony is high, and his tone comes out much harsher than he actually intended.
Once Tony realizes he's upset Steve, he stops his babbling and goes quiet, staring out the window as voices scream in his head. Way to go. You're such an asshole. You should have just taken a cab.
Steve is quiet too, but he is angry and tired and although he still says goodnight like nothing is wrong when he pulls up to Tony's dorm, Tony knows this will not go over well.
He goes to the basement and sits alone in the quiet kitchen to eat his Taco Bell. It tastes bland.
When he goes back upstairs, ready to retire for the evening, he finds his roommate is still awake with all the lights on, but he crawls into bed anyway and ignores the fact that it bothers him.
Tony always knew that he had massive amounts of potential. When he graduated high school with a 4.63 GPA and a full ride scholarship to the college of his choice, he and everyone else knew he was "going places."
Instead of living up to this "potential," Tony had found himself struggling and being unhappy with everything in his life. Everything besides Steve and besides not being sober. It was a vicious cycle, really.
Tony was trying his best to get through college and simply get out of bed in the mornings, but it proved to be more difficult everyday.
He wanted to give up, most days. He wanted to quit school and move in with Clint and Steve and live life like a housewife. But his father would quite literally kill him.
And so he muddled through life with weed and sex and unhealthy eating. It worked, temporarily, but Steve worried for him and their relationship had become Steve simply making sure Tony didn't die.
It was no way to live.
It was this realization that lead Tony to send a text to Steve, a text that said "I love you, I'm sorry," as Tony swallowed down a bottle of sleeping pills—way to many— in hopes that he would not awake in the morning.
Steve panicked when he got the text. Tony wasn't the most stable of boyfriends, and when he was left alone with his thoughts he could get destructive. Steve knew this, and called Tony approximately 8 times while he hopped in his car and drove as quickly as he could to Tony's dorm.
He shook Tony awake when he got there, and watched helplessly as he promptly vomited into his trash can and mumbled nonsense about not wanting to wake up and "dammit Steve, you just had to save the day."
But Steve cried and held Tony tightly against his chest while he scolded him lightly, and Tony drowned in the guilt.
There was a pain that sometimes rises deep within Tony's chest that he can never explain, but it happens on occasion and nothing seems to ever make it go away. Steve will joke that it's from all the fast food that Tony eats, or the vodka he drinks, but sometimes Tony wonders if the issue is more serious than that.
It's happening now, as Tony taps his foot anxiously in the waiting room of the CAPS building, which stands for Counseling And Psychiatric Services. He doesn't want to be here, but he promised and so he followed through.
Steve doesn't know that Tony is there, and he wants to keep it that way for the time being, because Steve would freak and ask if he wanted him to be there, and if he was okay and yadda yadda ya.
"Tony," someone calls, and Tony stands up too quickly and follows a short, fat woman to a dim room at the end of a long hallway.
The first thing Tony notices is the zen garden that sits on a table top beside a leather couch and his next instinct is to pick up the little rake and mess up the perfect sand.
"I see you despise perfection?" The lady guesses, and Tony quite literally scoffs and rudely responds, "well that's a dumb thing to say."
The lady purses her lips and extends a pudgy hand to Tony. "I'm doctor Weidner, but you can call me Julie."
"Ok Julie." Tony says, dropping the rake because he is bored now, and besides, there is more to see in this tiny room. Next to the couch, on the opposite end of the zen garden is a lamp that emits a soft yellow glow, and Tony refuses to admit out loud that it's rather calming. There is a tapestry on one wall and a collection of certificates and degrees on the other. Julie sits at a simple desk with her legs crossed, observing Tony as he takes in his surroundings.
"What's brings you in today?" She asks kindly, knowing that Tony will probably be difficult given their first minute or so spent together.
Tony shrugs and doesn't really know where to begin, as he is nervous suddenly at the realization that he'll have to open up if he wants to achieve anything.
"My boyfriend made me come." He says simply, to which Julie's eyebrows go up, surprised probably that I'm gay, Tony thinks.
"Is this boyfriend important to you?"
"Clearly."
"Do you feel like sharing his name?"
"It's Daniel." Tony isn't sure why he lies, but it slips out and Julie is already nodding in understanding and leaning forward in her chair.
"Why did he want you to come here today? Are you two having problems..?"
Tony sighs, debating whether or not he should be one hundred percent honest with this stranger.
"No. We're good. Great, actually, and that's probably the only thing that's going well in my life."
"I see."
Tony bites his lip before choking out, "I guess I'm...depressed?"
"How so?" Julie urges, pleased to see that they're at least off to a better start.
"I can't sleep but I never get out of bed. I hate school. I drink too much." Tony begins spewing off a list of problems, getting increasingly more emotional with each truth he reveals about himself. But the end of a long tangent, he's holding back tears, because saying it all out loud makes him realize how fucked up things really are for him.
There's that pain in his chest again.
Julie is practically falling out of her chair at this point. " Well Tony, this is just a triage appointment so I won't have you go too into detail when it comes to specific complaints you have. However, based on what you tell me, I recommend you seek treatment twice a week to begin with, maybe more."
Tony feels a frown tug at his lips. This isn't what he was hoping for. He wishes it had been a 'one and done' situation.
"Our facility is very booked at the moment, you would have a difficult time seeking treatment here as frequently as you require. I'm going to recommend some places off campus that will have more availability."
Tony nods, ignoring the pain that continues to swell within his chest, wondering if he should mention it.
He decides against it and stands to leave, because Julie is already writing him a list of numbers to call and was wishing him luck with his journey.
As Tony leaves the CAPS building, he feels a swell of hope rise within him and in moments he's texting Steve, not Daneil (he doesn't even know a Daneil).
Hey.
Hey! How are ya Tones?
Just left the shrink.
Oh? You went? I'm so proud of you, how'd it go?
Fine… I think.
I'm really happy for you Tony. Wanna grab lunch and talk about it?
Yeah I do.
Tony smiles and slips his phone back in his pocket. Maybe this is a good thing. Maybe things are going to be ok.
When he reaches he and Steve's favorite restaurant and sees his smile and wave from their usual table, Tony smiles again and thinks that yeah things are going to be fine.
A/N: So, I don't keep diaries, instead I write out my life in the form of fanfiction, where I am Tony and my (ex) fiance is Steve.. This is a really personal story for me and it's brief and doesn't make a whole lot of sense and ends rather abruptly, but I thought I'd share because someone out there might enjoy this. This was something I wrote at the time when I was unhappy and depressed and these events happened as written. Hope some of you enjoyed this. Thanks for reading.