The cold winter air was a lot more tolerable when they weren't mostly naked and dripping wet. Bruce withdrew his pack of smokes and held it open to his friend, letting the boy select one before taking his own. "Thanks, big guy," Tony said, and Bruce nodded as he put the vice between his lips to hold while he struck a match against the side of the matchbox. He put it to his first and Tony's after, quickly shaking the flame out once they were both lit.
The two of them smoked in silence awhile, eyes on the blanket of stars above them. As much as Bruce liked bantering back and forth with his best friend, times like this, where they didn't have to talk and they could understand one another anyway, were really nice too. It was also really nice to take a break from the noise of the party still going on inside the house. He depressed the button on the side of his watch that lit the display light blue so he could see it in the dark- 11:15 PM. Only forty-five minutes left of 2012. Bruce tapped off his ash onto the ground before glancing over at the teen beside him. "This is going to sound like a weird question..." he led in. "But do you have any New Year's resolutions?"
Tony wasn't expecting that question. "Well shit. I guess I hadn't really thought of any..." He took a drag and allowed himself to contemplate. "I'm guessing you do?" he asked as he exhaled a lungful of smoke.
Bruce gave a nod. He pulled the cigarette from his lips, frowning at it as he twirled it between finger and thumb. "Yeah. I'd like to quit these."
Tony's lips tweaked before he nodded. "Well, I'd be happy to help, when the time comes," he offered; after all, he'd been the catalyst that got the big guy started. He took another long drag as a short silence stretched between them.
"If it's a New Year's resolution, that would be in less than an hour, wouldn't it?" Bruce pointed out with a soft chuckle, taking another long drag and really savoring it. Just saying that had him tempted to chain smoke as many as he could get through before midnight.
"Yeah, I guess so," Tony chuckled. He thought a moment before holding out his hand expectantly, palm facing upwards.
Bruce eyed it, hesitating just a bit before removing the pack from his coat. His fingers tightened around it. Already he could tell this wasn't going to be easy. Steeling himself, he handed the paper box over. Tony pocketed it and promptly held his hand out again. Bruce gave a nervous laugh. His new ID. That he'd gotten just today. "But what if I need to buy alcohol?" he made the excuse.
"God, you sound like me. Stop it," Tony snorted. "It's only until the cravings stop, or you give up and threaten to kill me for it."
Bruce gave a hard long exhale. He knew Tony was right. If he was really, truly serious about quitting, this was the only way. Slowly he pulled out his wallet and extracted the fake ID. It took a great deal of resolve to hand it over to his friend.
Tony rubbed Bruce's back sympathetically, "We still have almost an hour, just let me know when you want another one."
"Y-yeah, yeah..." Bruce nodded uncertainly. He puffed twice in rapid succession and they lapsed back into silence again. Well, for a few seconds.
"You know, I'm actually considering..." Tony mused out loud, before stopping himself. "Ah, shit," Tony took another drag, waving dismissively, "Just nevermind; it's stupid."
Bruce eyed his friend out of the corner of his eye momentarily, briefly considering pursuing the subject anyway, but continued smoking. "Okay."
Tony raised an eyebrow in spite of himself, "What, that's it? You just told me your resolution and you're not even interested?"
"You said 'nevermind'," the boy pointed out with infuriating Banner-esque matter-of-factness.
"Yeah, I know what I said, but..." Tony paused- did he want to tell Bruce, or had he just caught himself thinking out loud again? He sighed heavily and decided it wasn't worth taking back at this point. "It's gonna sound stupid, but I'm considering making another attempt at monogamy..."
Bruce's hand paused on the way to his mouth. "You..." he started but stopped when he realized he hadn't actually formulated what to say. He stood there frozen, cigarette burning down between his fingers.
"What?" Tony's eyebrow raised, "What about me?"
"Nothing. I guess I'm just... surprised is all," Bruce said. He gave himself a quick mental kick for how that sounded; what a way to show his friend his support for a worthwhile goal. And yet what it meant for him was painfully hard to swallow- much harder than giving up the vice in his fingers. Sure, this had been coming, Bruce had known that, it wasn't like they could be friends with benefits forever. Eventually they- Tonywould find someone to commit to and he'd get on with the rest of his life. Probably get married, have kids, the whole shebang. It wasn't like they wouldn't still be 'besties', the sexual aspect would just be absent. This discussion had been brewing since the time Tony had asked him at the mall what his opinion of monogamy was. Still and all, Bruce hadn't expected it to come up so soon. He put on a poker face and went on. "But I understand. Pepper is... really important to you."
Tony coughed on a lungful of smoke. "Pepper?" he gaped at Bruce incredulously.
Bruce caught on slowly. "You... you weren't talking about Pepper?"
"Are you kidding?" Tony rolled his eyes. "I mean, sure, it may require a little weaning in order to get myself off of her for good," he coughed an aside- especially if she kept wearing things like low-backed dresses and bikinis to his house parties- "but seriously? I'm not saying it'sgoing to happen, but if it does..." he chuckled nervously, "I just... Pepper's a good friend." He put some heavy emphasis on the last two words.
If it was possible, this twist was even harder for Bruce to process. "I thought we were good friends," he followed up, the implication therein explaining his misunderstanding.
"We are. I just..." This was hard to explain. "Pepper and I have a past," Tony swallowed hard, "not a future." He thought back to how their conversation on the top of the Burger King went down. "Her future is with Happy or some other guy who fits with her and doesn't drive her completely insane. I was just her rebound; eventually she'll move on," he concluded tersely, but without any malice.
Bruce was wordless a few moments more, occupying his mouth on his cigarette. The fact that Tony had been involved with Pepper was why he'd been so sure that his friend wasn't looking for any kind of romantic relationship with him. Subtracting her from the equation threw that back into question. His words sounded a bit stilted, "So... we're going to be monogamous. With each other." It was like asking for clarification that there wasn't more to Tony's resolution that the teen wasn't saying.
"Do you... want to?" Tony asked carefully.
It was impossible to say no, but he was very guarded about giving a straight-up yes. He settled for a chuckle, "Well, I don't want to stop having sex."
"Oh thank God..." Tony mocked a sigh of relief, though it was mostly to mask his genuine relief at his friend's response.
Bruce's lips tweaked into a little half-smile. He took his last drag down to the filter. "In that case... want to take my mind off my resolution by sticking to yours?" he suggested, dropping the butt and twisting it out underneath his foot.
"I like the way you think," Tony smirked, miming the action to extinguish his own. He grabbed Bruce by the hand and hurried them indoors. It might have been the alcohol thinking for him, but between how affectionate Bruce had been lately, the overall success the party had been so far (in spite of the fact that Barton nearly ruined it by inviting everyone within a 20 mile radius), and how receptive Bruce seemed to have been to the monogamy bombshell, Tony was feeling impulsive.
Bruce followed along with an almost stupid smile plastered on his features. However when they missed the turn for the stairs up to Tony's room, his eyebrow tweaked. "Not the bedroom?"
"Nope," Tony fished his keys out of his jeans pocket, flipping the key for the door to the basement into his fingertips. Bruce felt his heart leap into his throat. If they were going downstairs, was it possible that Tony was going to play his guitar for him? His hand squeezed tighter around his friend's in almost silent prayer.
Tony felt his friend's hand tighten around his, and he smiled sheepishly, "I was thinking, maybe you wouldn't mind a little detour?"
Bruce shook his head side to side emphatically. He'd been wanting this since that visit to Tony's house in November. Already he found himself wondering what the other teen was planning to play for him, if anything, maybe he was just going to wing it. Either way, Bruce was anxious and thrilled.
Tony chuckled. Speechless. That felt like a first. He ruffled Bruce's hair affectionately before swiftly unlocking the door, "After you?"
Bruce's mouth pulled into a wide smile at the questioning inflection. He couldn't resist the urge; he wound his arms tightly around his friend's middle and hefted him up off his feet. Tony gave a small yelp of surprise and Bruce shut the door behind them, carrying the other boy down the stairs, only relinquishing his hold once they were at the bottom. "Sorry," he apologized bashfully.
Tony snorted after finding his footing, "Stop saying sorry. You're fine." He pulled Bruce in for a quick peck on the lips for added emphasis.
"Stop saying nevermind and maybe I'll consider it," Bruce returned.
It took Tony a few seconds to grasp his meaning, but when the realization hit him, it was a bit of a shock. It was still strange to think that that day had been as hard on Bruce as it had on him.
"Sorry," Tony responded without thinking.
Bruce set his hands on his friend's hips. "No, it's fine, nevermind," he grinned upon delivery.
Tony tried to force a frown, "I do not sound like that."
"You sound exactly like that."
"You know, for a groupie, you're really pushing it."
Bruce gave a long laugh. "Well, as far as I'm aware, sleeping with your groupies- or should I say groupie, singular- comes afterperformances, so..." he motioned at the guitar on the wall.
"And I only sold one album- well, two," Tony corrected himself, "Who gives a fuck anyway?" He rolled his eyes, retrieving his instrument and checking the tuning, "I'm an indie artist. The point isn't mainstream commercial success; it's the art." He paused thoughtfully. "Nevermind the fact that I only cover other peoples songs," Tony added, before feigning horror, "Shit, I said the 'N word' again."
Bruce just chuckled and found himself a seat in one of the chairs. "Yeah, but I think I can forgive you this time," he said leaning forward, elbows propped on knees again. He waited patiently, though in his mind he was jumping up and down squealing, just like a groupie would be doing in the concert audience.
"Okay, so being serious now... I thought about it, and I decided my second resolution in all of five minutes." Tony gave the guitar a strum and frowned absently. Not quite right yet. There were a few loud thumps from upstairs. Tony ignored it. Probably one of the Bilgesnipes running around. Some shouting followed, but he ignored that as well.
"And after you said you didn't have any," Bruce said with slight amusement, rubbing his jaw. "So, what is it?" he asked curiously. He expected Tony to say something like practice his guitar more often, or write some of his own songs, which would be neat.
"I want to be able to communicate better. Both of us..." Tony explained, scratching his neck nervously, "Like that night at the levee..." Ugh, maybe he shouldn't lead off with a bad example...
Bruce's tongue pressed uncomfortably between his teeth and bottom lip. "Yeah, that... well, it worked out okay." He mimed his friend subconsciously, reaching back to squeeze at the nape of his neck. Betty's incredulous words echoed in his head... 'So he invited you back to his place and just like that you related?' They'd jumped into bed with one another without a second thought, nor a word to one another about it until after it had already happened. 'Promise me you'll talk to him about what you two are doing. Make sure you're on the same page.' Bruce gave a soft cough. "I think we've been doing a little better since then," he said, knowing full well 'better' was not 'optimal'.
"I like how we are," Tony replied, but his tone sounded a little less than convinced. "I mean... we could..." he stopped to laugh at how dumb he probably sounded, "You know, I'm used to saying whatever the fuck I want. It should be easy, and I shouldn't need to sing a song to force it out."
"I don't... what?" Bruce tilted his head and that was when a shrill scream sounded from upstairs. He jumped in his chair when the basement door flung open and slammed against the corridor.
"FIRE!"
"God dammit!" Tony growled, standing as the guitar rolled off of his lap, "Shit!" he cursed, looking down at his baby, then glaring back at the source of the noise, "Barton, I swear to God, if this is some sick fucking joke, I-"
"Dude, your fucking drapes are on fucking fire, I'm not joking!"
Bruce stood and hit the stairs two-by-two to make a beeline for the extinguisher in the garage, Tony hot on his heels. "I swear to God, I'm gonna kill whoever's responsible..." the teen grit out.
"Ehehehehehehe!" a merry cackle was the first thing to greet their ears upon hitting the landing- the second was the pop and crackle of a ball of blue glitter richotting off the walls of the living room. A crowd of students ducked as it went zinging over their heads, shouting as they scattered. At the center of the chaos was a dark long-haired boy holding several lit roman candles, shooting them in all directions as he giggled to himself.
"LUCAS!" Theodore's voice boomed through the domicile; the boy thundered past. Maybe he wouldn't have to dirty his hands after all, looked like the freshman's older brother would be plenty happy to do it for him; Tony clicked his tongue. The blond cornered the other boy, "Cease these foolish games and go home!"
"I shall not!" the younger sibling aimed a candle at him, hitting the football player square in the chest. "Not because you tell me to, Odinson. It is hypocrisy most foul! While mother mourns and father curses your name, you seek to cast yourself out? Why not I as well?!"
To everyone but two people in the room, no one had a clue what the two foreign siblings were arguing about. On the other hand, most of them were busy backing away from the leaping flames consuming the drapes and the Stark family Christmas tree.
"What the fuck are you-" Tony began until he noticed the flames catching on the tree. His words dropped off and he literally froze as his eyes took in the sight. Of all the things, expensive, priceless things on the main floor that any of his peers could have destroyed... He couldn't stomach it. There were so many good memories tied to that tree, memories he could never make again, like the few he'd had with his mother. It was like watching someone set fire to the photo album in his attic. "You fucking bastard..." he hissed, before turning his fury on the arsonist fruitcake who dared to crash his party. In a few quick strides Tony had closed the distance between himself and Lucas Ahlström, a fist connecting with the prankster's jaw before he could react. "You bastard! Do you have any idea what the fuck you just did?!"
Loki stared at him with incredulous blue eyes, holding his jaw. "Theodore, who is this peasant who dares strike me?" He spat on the ground.
"Peasant?! Oh fuck you, buddy!" Tony lunged forward, "This is my house!"
"Master Stark," a heavy hand landed on the middle of Tony's chest. "I apologize for my brother's intrusion, but his punishment is not yours to dole out. I beseech you to allow me..."
Tony pushed back, not as hard as he would have if it weren't a friend holding him back, but hard enough to let Theodore know he strongly disagreed. To his credit, Thor didn't budge. "Excuse me?! Listen, I don't know what little sibling rivalry bullshit he's got going on with you, or why he came here in the first place, but he's in my fucking house-"
"Coming through!" Bruce pushed past the trio with the fire extinguisher. He pulled the pin and aimed the nozzle at the flaming Christmas tree, hosing it down with the foamy substance and dousing the fire. If it weren't for the singed and smouldering branches, it would've looked somewhat festive.
"There is no need for anger, Master Stark," Theodore continued resolutely, "Loki is but a child. I shall escort him to our place of residence; my parents shall decide proper discipline for his misbehavior."
Loki scoffed at his older brother's words- they were naught but two years apart! How dare he speak about him this way! As the master of the house and his brother quarrelled, he slipped off unseen.
"Are you insane, or did you not see him set my house on fucking fire?! I think I'm well within my rights!" Tony spat angrily.
Thor's brow drew down, shoulders squaring. "It was a mere prank gone awry; I warn you, Sir Anthony, do not-"
"Guys, guys! That's enough!" Steve pushed the two bickering teens apart with his palms. "Don't you even hear yourselves? You're both in agreement; Lucas needs to leave the house and the sooner the better."
"He-" Tony huffed and took a moment to try and calm down, "You don't understand. That tree is... it's just important. I can't buy a new one..."
"Uh... I saved most of it," Bruce rubbed the back of his head, wincing at the several melted plastic branches. He coughed into his hand, "Sort of."
"Thanks Bruce," Tony shot his friend a look of weary gratitude after soaking in the damage to the tree. Well, it was another story at least. He sighed heavily, "Yeah, get 'Locust' the fuck out of here before I kill him. And the first person to bring me a beer gets a hundred dollars. I need to sit down." He flopped onto the couch.
Like that a beer materialized in his hand, courtesy of Clint. "Jesus Christ," Tony's eyes widened, digging his wallet out of his back pocket without question. The acrobatic boy gave a squawk of success, dancing with his acquired Benjamin before pocketing it. "Ugh, new money..." Tony mocked, rolling his eyes dramatically.
"Thank you, friend," Theodore gave a stiff bow, "We shall take our leave and remove ourselves from thine tresses; I assure you, Lucas will see justice."
"Speaking of... where is he?" Steve questioned.
"I've got him." Natasha parted her way through the crowd, keeping pressure on Loki's arm, which was twisted behind his back; the freshman hip-hopped on his heels with a whine.
"You guys make for bitching security detail," Tony remarked towards Natasha and Clint. "Even if you took the liberty of turning this place into an open invitation den of iniquity," he added, pausing to regard Loki, "I'm just going to assume you didn't invite him."
"No, we did not," Romanoff delivered, glaring daggers at the boy as he traded hands from her to Theodore.
"See you after the ball drops then?" Tony directed towards Thor, trying not to let his eyes rest on Loki for too long.
"You may well. I bid you all a fond valediction!" He marched his younger brother towards the exit.
"Theo!" Rogers interrupted before the other blond could make it all the way out the door. "Hey, you still gonna need a place to crash tonight?"
"If it pleases you to offer, then aye!" Thor grinned, pulling the other blond into a warm hug, "I'd be deeply honored."
"Alright," Steve nodded. "Catch you later." He stepped back and shut the door after the football player.
Bruce found himself a seat next to Tony on the couch after finding himself another beer out of one of the rapidly depleting coolers. He decided to leave the fire extinguisher out, just in case anything else tried to go wrong; it would probably also be best if they continued to supervise the crowd. He checked his watch. 11:40. Bruce wondered if it was possible that he was actually craving another cigarette so soon, or if it was just his imagination playing tricks on him. He scratched at the scruff on his neck and glanced at the pocket in which Tony had stowed his pack. Clicking his tongue in silent chastization, he settled for putting his arm across the other boy's shoulders.
"I'm stealing one of your confiscated cigarettes," Tony sighed out, "You want one?"
It was like the teen had read his mind. He drummed out his fingers on his leg. "I'll be fine. It was your tree."
"I'll be fine too, but we decorated it together," Tony pointed out, before snapping his fingers, "Clint: ashtray."
"What's in it for me?" the other boy snorted. "I'm not your carrier pigeon!"
"About twenty five percent less for the attitude," Tony shot back.
In answer, the heavy glass tray sailed through the air and landed right on his crotch, pre-empting any witty response Tony might have had with a sharp open-mouthed inhalation. For the record, it was never a good idea to insult the Westmore High archery champ. Gingerly he moved the tray from his lap and got out a cigarette.
Pepper appeared, her green eyes narrowed. "And just what is that for?"
Tony fumbled his lighter with a little yelp. He hesitated only a second before responding. "It's for Bruce." The big guy made a startled face as the cigarette was jammed between his lips and lit.
She didn't seem entirely convinced, but dismissed herself. Tony breathed out a sigh of relief and reached for the vice to take it back, but Bruce leaned away from his grasping fingers with a grunt. "Ahh, no," he chuckled plainly, taking a long drag.
"Change of heart, or do you just enjoy stealing from me?" Tony snorted, pulling the pack back out of his pocket and extracting a second cigarette. He held it between his lips and lit it without hesitation, doubting his father would smell anything in this room over the acrid stink of burnt plastic. Theodore and Lucas's parents were likely going to get a call sometime tomorrow about the roman candle incident.
"You put it there, it stays there," Bruce murmured, rolling the cigarette around between his lips.
Everyone stood clustered around whichever TV they were in the room with. Every flat panel had been tuned in to channel three to watch the celebration happening in real time in Times Square. It was less than a minute to midnight, and everyone held their breath, whatever noise-maker they had grasped tightly in their hands as the counter steadily clicked down.
Bruce sat on the edge of his seat. He'd never particularly participated very much in New Year's celebrations before. It hadn't really mattered- he hadn't had any friends, the new year never really brought anything new, just the same tired story of his life. But tonight, sitting next to Tony and Betty and Pepper and everyone else, a beer in his hands (several more in his stomach) and no curfew, Bruce honestly felt like this year, finally, things might actually be different.
The countdown began. "Ten!" chanted the students of Westmore. Bruce shook his head of his thoughts and joined in, "Nine!"
"Eight!" Betty, Jane and Darcy bounced in their seats. "Seven!" Clint flipped a cartwheel. "Six!" Steve tipped back another bottle of Smirnoff, effectively missing the next two numbers. "Five!" The Bilgesnipes punched the air above them. "Four!" Natasha crossed her arms languidly in an attempt to appear indifferent. "Three!" Pepper chimed, unraveling a noisemaker into the other redhead's dour face and startling her. "Two!" Phil wrapped an arm around his idol's shoulders, clinking the blond's bottle with his own. "One!" Bruce caught Tony looking straight at him out of the corner of his eye and he glanced back, arching an eyebrow. The display flipped to 00 and the boy's lips were suddenly on his for a chaste impulse-driven instant.
The whole room erupted, "HAPPY NEW YEAR!" Streamers and confetti and silly string flew wildly throughout the room, a chorus of horns and clappers echoing off the walls. Only one of the party-goers noticed their gracious host being dragged out by his best friend. Pepper just rolled her green eyes and chuckled quietly to herself- there those two went again. She supposed she could look after the party until they returned. Presuming they weren't gone too long.
Bruce stopped tugging once they were out of sight of their guests. Tony's head rolled up to look at him, a Starky smirk the only thing keeping his noisemaker perched between his lips. He gave it a soft blow and Bruce felt himself snort a laugh before plucking it away and flicking it over his shoulder. He gripped the teen by the back of the neck and pulled him into a rough and eager kiss more appropriate to the celebrating going on.
Tony responded passionately, smiling briefly against his friend's lips as he thought of how much had come to pass in the past few months. He wasn't going to kid himself in thinking all their problems were over (there were always more problems), but he was definitely looking forward to what the new year would bring, for better or worse. He'd gladly take on whatever troubles should come their way; it felt like, for the first time in a long while, he had things in life worth fighting for.
Bruce hummed as he withdrew, but he rested his forehead against his friend's as he allowed himself to get lost in Tony's eyes. "Happy New Year..." he murmured, a tender note to his voice.
"Mm-hmm..." Tony hummed in response, leaning in again briefly for another peck. It turned into three. And a half.
"Shots?" Tony asked almost guiltily as he (reluctantly) pulled away from the kiss.
Bruce chuckled. "Sure, if you want." This was one of few nights Tony could kick back and drink without guilt; it wasn't harming anything so Bruce was willing to indulge him. It was endearing to know that Tony was still seeking his approval before drinking, even though he'd already given his friend the green light earlier that night. Besides, he could handle a few more himself.
"Sweet," Tony giddily retrieved two shot glasses from the sink, and Bruce was already on his way to the liquor cabinet to scrounge around. He pushed the Jameson aside this time in search of something new to try. He was tempted by the Bacardi Coconut Rum and the La Poire Grey Goose Vodka, and again by the Melon Schnapps, but his curiosity was piqued when he happened across a bottle in the back labeled Aguardiente Antioqueño. He brought it back to the kitchen to set on the island counter.
Tony grinned when he set eyes on Bruce's selection, "Oh ho ho! Looks like someone went digging and found the fire water!" He made a beeline for the fridge and pulled out a jug of orange juice, "Grab two glasses from the cupboard; we'll need a chaser." The boy moved to do so.
"Uhh... hey Tony?" a familiar voice asked from the doorway before a blond head poked into view.
"Ah, First Lady," Tony replied, looking over his shoulder, "What is it? Are people breaking stuff again already? Is there another fire to put out? Someone drowning in the pool? Clint on the roof?" he asked rapidfire, as if he were playing twenty-questions and not waiting for the yes or no answer. "I swear. Tonight," he chuckled, glancing at Bruce, who joined in. He proceeded to pour orange juice into each of the two cups until they were both halfway full.
"Ah... no, none of that," Steve replied. "I just wanted to ask you-"
Tony waved a hand dismissively, "Of course you can have a shot; get over here already! Bruce, make it three glasses."
"That's not really what I mea-" Steve cut himself off as a glass of OJ and a shot glass were subsequently set down in front of him. He rubbed the back of his head. "Well, alright. Just one. But um, when you've got a minute, I'd like to... talk to you about..." his eyes darted towards Phil in the other room (who was already searching for him) and then back, "something."
"You want my advice?" Tony marveled.
"He's either drunk too much or not enough," Bruce evaluated. Tony chuckled and the two pals exchanged several elbowing gestures with each other.
Steve stared down at his glass of orange juice between his fingers, frowning hard at it. "Listen, if you're not gonna take it seriously, I can ask someone else."
Tony's laughter tapered off as concern and curiosity won over, "You're serious, huh?"
The blond gave a single hard nod. He tipped back his shot and subsequently almost choked, moisture springing to his eyes. "God, what was inthat?" he gasped, throat dry and singed-feeling, staring at the bottom of the tiny empty vessel. He made a grab for his OJ to wash away the aftertaste of black licorice.
"Aguardente, AKA Colombian 'fire water'," Tony answered matter-of-factly, "Feel that heat in the pit of your stomach? That's the best part."
Steve's only response was to continue the chugging of his orange juice. Bruce chuckled and took his own shot, flashing a brief grimace at the strength of the beverage. When he recovered, he spoke. "I can give you two some privacy, if you need it," he said, looking from Tony to Steve; he sensed whatever it was that was on the student body president's mind wasn't going to get far with him here in the room.
Tony shot a brief look in Steve's direction. The kid didn't look ready to talk with Bruce still in the room. "Yeah, just don't stray too far," he nodded, before turning to chastise the blond as he gulped down another mouthful of OJ, "Relax, Steve; it's not poison. A sip or two is enough."
Steve set the glass down roughly and exchanged nods with Bruce as the teen took his leave. "Thanks."
Once Bruce had cleared the doorway, Tony put his full focus on the Class President, "Okay, so what's up?"
"Well, I know you don't like to mess around, so I guess I'll just get to the point," Steve led in, letting his blue eyes connect with the brown ones across the kitchen island. "Which do you value more? Courage or loyalty?"
"That's pretty abstract," Tony snorted, "In what context?"
Steve gestured in front of himself, "Like it sounds. Which would you prefer someone have as a characteristic?"
"I prefer not to compromise one for the other, honestly."
The blond chuckled down at the countertop- that was a Stark-ian answer if he ever heard one. "Right. But if that's not possible and you hadto choose just one."
"Okay, so we're talking unyielding loyalty or unwavering courage..." Tony mused aloud, mulling it over in his head like a word problem.
Steve nodded confirmingly, "Yeah."
"Well that's simple. If someone's loyal to you, completely, then if you told them to go jump off of a bridge... or kill your neighbor... they would."
"I would never-" Steve started.
"Hypothetically," Tony corrected, "Because where courage begins and ends in oneself, loyalty begins and ends with something or someone else. It's kind of a codependent virtue."
It didn't sound very 'simple'. The student president shifted on his stool uncertainly. "So... which are you for then?"
"Well, while both of them are noble, I guess I'd go with courage."
Steve sighed out a little groan, sweeping a hand through his hair. "I don't know if I can do this..."
"Do what?" Tony furrowed his brow, "The Hell was I just the tiebreaker for?"
The blond lifted his head to shake it. "Nothing. I just wanted your opinion was all. And you gave it. So thanks." He gave his peer an unconvincing smile and pushed away from the counter to make to stand.
"Hey, hey wait," Tony held out a hand to stop him before he could really comprehend why he even cared.
"What? You have anything else?" the blue eyes honed on the party host. Jeez, they must have run out of liquid apple pies somewhere along the line.
Tony swallowed, pausing a brief moment to contemplate his response, "No, but you do." He took a chance, "Otherwise you wouldn't have cleared the room before starting this."
Steve took two purposeful steps toward the exit, but hesitated on the third. He stared at his feet, letting out a dejected sigh before turning back around. "Here's the thing. You have two... people in front of you, and you'd really like to have the best of both worlds, but you can't. So you start to think you shouldn't have either. That that's the answer. You don't pick one or the other, you pick neither."
Tony took it in silently, processing the information the blond was giving him before responding. "Been there before, actually..." Tony chuckled fondly. Technically he was in the process of resolving the issue... "And polyamory aside, if you're sure that you can only pick one... just pay attention," he gave Steve a fraternal clap to the shoulder, "If there's only one right answer, you might have it already and just not realize."
"I guess that's possible," Steve answered vaguely, though he still sounded down-in-the-dumps. "I just feel like I owe one or both of them an answer before..."
"Before what?" Tony quirked an eyebrow. The alcohol in his system was making this hard to follow.
"Before I graduate at the end of the year and go off to the service."
Tony couldn't help the snort that erupted. In his defense, aside from that incident at the bonfire, Steve Rogers seemed near-incapable of any aggressive behaviour. He was pretty much the anti-Bruce. In addition, the mention of the service threatened to bring back memories he'd been fairly successful in burying since the end of sophomore year. He still tensed up every time he passed by the recruiter kiosk at the Westmore High Job Fair.
"Whatever you're thinking, I don't want to hear it," Steve's expression soured at Tony's failed attempt to stifle his chortling.
The statement brought Tony out of his internal musings. He shook his head. "Sorry, I just remembered something stupid," he dismissed, leaning heavily on the last word.
The blond shifted on his feet but resumed. "Anyway... you're not wrong about loyalty. He'd follow me to the ends of the earth. And I don't want him to make a life-changing decision for the wrong reason."
"He." Tony echoed, "...you mean Phil?"
Steve just gave his peer a look that said he didn't want to hear that either. "Phil's a nice kid. He's just a little... obsessive sometimes."
"So he's got a crush on you," Tony tried, "And you don't want to blow him off, but you're afraid of leading him on..."
Steve's head cocked just that much at the disconnect. "I don't want to enter into something if I can't give it one-hundred percent. It wouldn't be fair to him."
"Oh." Tony blinked, "So you... you're..." He tried not to snicker, because he was pretty sure Steve wouldn't appreciate the coincidence.
"A God-fearing Christian, but still open-minded," the blond crossed his arms with a partial glare. "That's not the issue though. In the case of either of them, I don't know if I could be dedicated enough; I like them both, but there's an inequality in how much I like them versus how much they like me. Do you see what I'm saying?" Steve knew the concept was probably going to be difficult for Stark to grasp.
Tony raised an eyebrow, "Apparently it's been going around." He sighed and shook his head, "You gotta agree to keep this between you and me before I agree to tell you anything." Tony stared intently back at the blond, unrelenting.
Steve blinked at the change in topic. He slid back onto his stool. "I can do that," he said.
Tony scratched the back of his head and stared at the counter, "Okay. And I'm not embarrassed or anything. It's just that it's not just mybusiness to be spreading around."
"What is it?"
Tony let out a stressed sigh, "Well I'm kind of in the same situation. I have to decide between something that's easy that I know won't ever work out, and something that's a lot harder but might actually make me happy."
Steve frowned- that didn't seem like much of a conundrum to him. "Well that is easy. Obviously you make the effort, knowing it will be worth it in the long run."
"Well I don't actually know if it'll be worth it if he doesn't like me back."
Steve found himself chuckling; he swabbed the pad of his thumb across the side of his nose. This was amusing for more than one reason. "He."
"Yeah," Tony snorted, "It's not you. Hate to burst your bubble."
The blond just shook his head. "Well, if I were in your shoes, I'd just ask him if he did. I mean, it's not worth losing sleep over, right? If he does, great. If he doesn't, you just move on." He gestured in the air matter-of-factly. "On my end it's a bit different, since they both have made it pretty obvious they like me back."
"You just get all the luck, don't you?" Tony deadpanned, "But I guess the thing is... I really don't want to move on. A lot of the things that are going good for me now are because of him. And I know it's not like my life would be over if he didn't, but it'd probably suck a lot less if he did."
Steve had a pretty good feeling at this point as to who Tony was talking about, but he settled for a nod. "I hear you. I guess maybe for both of us time will tell."
"Well in your case, it's not such a big deal to just date, non-exculsively. Test the waters and see what you like best. I mean, do either of them know how you feel?"
He fiddled with his glass. "I haven't told them, no. But I was hoping to take one of them to prom..." the teen admitted, rubbing at the back of his neck.
"Take 'em both." Tony snorted, "You'll look like a total BAMF."
"Always concerned with appearances, aren't you, Stark?" Steve shook his head, trying to hide his subtle grin. It really was an unthinkable thing to do, but if he really didn't have this figured out by then, his options were that or stag. Tony might have a point about dating though, if he spent more time getting to know each, then he might stand a better chance of knowing how to proceed.
"You'd probably feel like a total BAMF too, if that's any better. Plus, I'm pretty sure you wouldn't be the first 'president' to tell monogamy 'No thank you'." Tony added with a snort, eyes drifting towards the bottle still on the counter, "Do you want another shot?"
The student body president considered it. "Do you have anything less... licorice-y?"
Tony thought for a second, "Was the Jameson okay, or did you want something a little less 'potent'?"
"Yeah, that was fine," Steve nodded.
Tony nodded and strode off toward the liquor cabinet, at least until he remembered Bruce was the one with the key. "Right. Just gotta get the key from Bruce," he called back to Steve before approaching the door the big guy had left through earlier and pulling it open.
His friend was standing nearby, arms folded comfortably and leaned against the wall, half-bottle of beer in his hands- he hadn't wandered far, just as Tony had asked. His eyebrows lifted a touch upon noticing him emerge from the kitchen. "Done?"
"Hey, uh... not yet." Tony glanced at the floor briefly, "I kind of... well I guess there's some things I need to talk about too. Do you still have the key?"
Bruce nodded. "Yeah. Here, catch." He fished it out of his front pocket and tossed it to his friend.
Tony caught it after a near-fumble, pulling it into his chest, "Thanks; I'll try not to be too long."
"Take as long as you need; I'll be around," Bruce gave him a smile. "And don't get too far ahead of me," he added with a grin, inclining his head at said key.
Tony flashed his own smile back, "You got it." He gave a little wave before going back inside.
It wasn't long before Tony had both his and Steve's shot glasses filled. The blond reached for his. "Didn't bring Bruce back with you?" he asked before tipping it back. He shook his head vigorously at the kick of the alcohol going down his throat. One thing was for sure, those two were like glue nowadays; seeing one without the other was an oddity. Talk about taming the lion. Everyone else at school had had the good sense to leave Bruce alone, but Tony couldn't resist sticking his head in said lion's mouth. Now the guy was weirdly... docile, at least most of the time. And in the case of Stark, Steve hadn't seen him so close to anyone since his former best friend had dropped out to join the military... what was his name again? James... Rhodes? Yes. 'Rhodey', that's what Tony had always called him.
Tony tossed back his shot before responding, "I wanted to ask you something myself."
"Oh, what's that?" Steve asked, pushing his glass forward and motioning for another. Things were nicer when he couldn't think as hard.
"You knew this whole time," Tony said, though it really wasn't a question. He poured them both a second shot.
The student president gave an offhanded shrug. "Yeah, everyone has their secrets. Kind of gutsy though, what you did. That something..." he forced himself not to assume 'Bruce', "this guy you like helped you out with?"
"Yeah, I guess so," Tony replied. "But you know, for how much of a dick I've been to you all these years... You could've really burned me."
"An eye-for-an-eye isn't really my style," Steve answered simply. He threw back the next shot. "Not that I necessarily expected you to ever pick up on that. But someone has to be the bigger man."
Tony took his second shot, immediately pouring another one, "You're not the better man though; you're just another man." He chuckled, finally coming to the real reason for the conversation, "I noticed it tonight, and its making it hard to hate your guts like usual."
The blond cracked half a smile. "Well I'm sorry about that," he said with a trace amount of discernible sarcasm (more than he usually ever gave). His words regained their seriousness, "But the feeling is kind of mutual." It had been easier to get along with Tony as of late, for whatever reason, even if he and his new pal had left enough tinsel to decorate an entire Christmas tree farm in his yard. Steve studied Tony a minute as he swished orange juice around in his mouth. "This guy you know must be pretty great. Otherwise you'd still be that dick, same as before."
The corner of Tony's mouth turned upward just a little, "He is. And I don't know if it was 'courage', 'loyalty', or the Jameson, but I think you're just enough of a dick on the inside that I could stand having you over here again."
"Let's not get too hasty," Steve countered jokingly, tossing back the third and plunking it down to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth. He let out a grateful sigh; that fuzzy-headed sensation was returning. "I never knew how great this stuff was..." he mused.
"Well I can't see you driving home with that much alcohol in your system," Tony joked right back, taking his own shot, "You could set off a breathalyzer from across the room."
"So you're going to make me 'hoof it'?"
"Thor could always carry you home." Tony remarked offhand, "Also plenty of room here once 'Clint Barton Plus Two Hundred' leaves."
"I guess I could stay, though I gotta let Theo know..." the blond thought aloud. "Any idea when your dad's coming back from my place?"
"If he's had as much as we have, he's probably crashing over there. I did notice that a Mr. Jack Daniels was absent from roll call when I searched the cabinet for our first round of shots..."
Steve nodded. "Can't imagine my dad's too unhappy about that; he's been itching for an excuse to get together with your dad. He'd been talking about this party non-stop for weeks. Almost got annoying. And the part where my dad said you and I could be as good of friends as he and your dad are 'if we tried'? I don't think so. Dad's just gonna have to accept I'm not like him in every way."
"You can't force people to get along," Tony replied, shaking his head. Even saying that, he knew that much of the animosity he'd had toward the blond stemmed from how his father had treated the two teens after Tony's first attack. He hadn't known why then, but it felt like Howard had favored Steve Jr. over his own son, and it led Tony to despise how perfect the boy was. Funny how a little alcohol and some old-fashioned communication can really put things into perspective. "I understand why they care, but they need to let shit happen naturally. Nobody was nagging their asses into hanging out together in high school."
Steve chuckled. "At any rate, it's good to have them out of our hair for awhile, even if it's just for an evening," he admitted.
"Damn skippy. Thank God for Federal Holidays," Tony replied enthusiastically, pouring them both another shot and holding his glass up as if he were toasting to the lack of adult supervision.
"Amen," Steve agreed. He lifted his shot glass up and clinked it against Tony's.