This fic is starting to depress me like none other, and it's definitely not the most angsty thing I've written. Not by a long shot. Go figure. At least I have my Tony/Ivan (or Tovan, as ALL THE COOL PEOPLE are calling it) playlist to keep me company, interspersed with random Repo songs (because Repo is THE SHIT no matter how many times Jude Law tries to steal the plotline in a crappy remake). Sorry, I'll stop ranting.
~::~
"Ivan, wait! Don't go, just-" Stark fumbles with his words, telling himself that Tony Stark does not beg, and then telling himself to shut up because he'll beg if he has to. A thought strikes. "Wait, Jarvis! Jarvis, check the security feed from the garage for that week-"
"Sir, if you'll recall, you ordered me to run system checks and updates on the cameras that week. They were offline." The computer manages to sound apologetic. "The scanners recorded authorized entries only."
"Fuck!" He scrambles after the villain, trips on a pair of shoes, and falls on his hands and knees as the door closes. "Ivan! Goddammit, Ivan, get back here!" He jumps up and goes lunging for the door just as it opens.
"Whoa! What the hell?" Pepper takes a step back, still blocking the doorway, and takes in her friend's disheveled appearance and wide, panicked eyes. "Okay, what just happened? You go sprinting away in the middle of the party, and five minutes later Ivan goes slamming out. What did you do?"
"I don't know!" Tony tries to push past her but she doesn't give. "I mean, I don't know for sure; I might've- he found- but I was drunk so I don't know, and Jarvis- and that girl tried to and he saw and he thought but I didn't at least I don't think I did-"
"Okay. Breathe." She grabs his shoulders, makes him look at her. "What happened?"
"Aaagh!" He tries once more to get by but she blocks him again. He takes a breath and tries again. "Some girl out there tried to kiss me and I wasn't gonna let her but Ivan saw and then he showed me these-"
"Showed you what?"
He holds up the panties. "-and he says he found them in the garage and I can't remember how they got there and now he's-"
"Oh shit. Oh," her eyes go wide and she grabs the underwear. "Oh god, Tony, I'm so sorry. These are from- they're mine; well, they're not mine, they're Yulia's and we just kind of- I'm so sorry!"
"They're Yulia's?" Tony stares at her in utter confusion. "What- how the hell did they get in the garage?"
"Ah- she came by with me and, um, I had to get something from the garage and um she really likes Mustangs, and, well, we..." She glances down. "Look, I was gonna tell you that we're... I just hadn't found the right moment yet..."
Too many realizations hit him at once, and for a second Stark's brain shuts down. The important points surface in his mind at lightning speed: The underwear is Yulia's. It did not get in the garage because of me. I did not fool around. Ivan is leaving and I should run after him. "I gotta go," he says breathlessly. "Remind me to kill you later."
"Go!" She jumps aside and he takes off.
"Jarvis!" He snaps as he skids through the kitchen, knocking over a tipsy couple.
"Sir?"
"Jarvis, where the hell is he? Tell me he's still in the house!"
"...Sir, he is not in the house."
"Mother-!"
"My scanners tell me that Mister Vanko is currently on the roof."
"What?" He spins around and makes for the stairs, leaping over the giggling, still-horizontal couple.
Ivan is sitting on top of the pointed roof of the observation tower, elbows on his knees, hands loosely clasped as he stares up at the vast expanse of the night sky. From up here, it's impossible to tell where the sky ends and the ocean begins. He doesn't turn when he hears the American approach.
"Ivan... what are you doing?"
"Thinking," he responds, eyes still scanning the heavens.
Tony takes a few nervous steps forward. "About what?"
"Not going to jump, Stark," the Russian says, half-glaring over his shoulder. "Not stupid."
"You wanna come down so we can talk, then?"
"Not much to talk about."
"Why are you still here, then?" The hero asks, taking another tense step.
"Waiting for people to leave," Vanko says, glancing down at the cars in the driveway. "So I can get Bird and go."
"No!" The word bursts out of Tony, louder than he intended, and for a second Ivan turns, looking worried, like he's expecting Tony to have slipped and fallen. Stark shakes his head urgently. "Don't go. They're- the underwear's not mine, it's Pepper's! I mean," he clears his throat. "Okay, that didn't help; I mean they belong to Yulia, who I guess... is Pepper's girlfriend. Yeah. Apparently they... got a little frisky on and in the R8."
A raised eyebrow.
"Yeah, I know. But Ivan, I swear to you... I didn't do anything. I wouldn't." Tony shuts his eyes as a gust of wind buffets him. When he opens them, Ivan is standing right in front of him, so suddenly and silently that the shorter man jumps back. "Jesus, you are a goddamn Russian ninja!"
That earns him a little smirk, half a chuckle. For a moment the light in Vanko's eyes carries the same grudging amusement as always, but it's gone in a stab of pained remembering and he turns away again, walking to the end of the flat roof.
Tony follows him, determined. "And look, that girl, at the party, she was just some drunk tart-"
"'Drunk tart' is all you ever take home," the ex-con says coldly.
"No, drunk tart is all I used to take home." The hero replies quickly, coming to a halt a few paces behind the other man. He takes a breath and steps closer. "But then I took a risk- maybe a kind of stupid one, admittedly not made with my brain- and took a dangerous, criminally insane genius that tried several times to kill me home instead."
Ivan snorts, and Stark can practically hear him rolling his eyes. He continues anyway, inching closer. "I did that, and you know what? It's the best stupid risk I ever took. Ever." He laughs a little. "And believe me, I've taken a lot of stupid risks." There's another quiet huff of laughter from the tattooed man. Tony forges onward, gaining momentum. "Listen. Yes, the girl was drunk. Yes, I'm drunk. Yes, she was hot. But... the thing is... I don't want her. Not even a little bit. I don't want any of those women; hell, any of those men, at that party. Or anywhere else." He takes a final step, leans forward and presses his forehead into the warm space between Vanko's shoulders, letting a heavy breath escape. "Please... say something."
Silence.
"Ivan... do you," he closes his eyes, opens them, tries again, forcing the words out. "Do you love me? Is that was this was all..." He trails off, hoping for an answer but not really expecting one. Over the years, Tony Stark has had countless people, usually desperate, beautiful women, tell him that they love him. He's probably heard those three words more than anyone else alive, and right now they're all he wants to hear. He closes his eyes against his companion's silence.
"Being attracted to someone... gives them power over you," Ivan says to the night air.
"Well... you can't be in control of everything," Tony says, trying to make it sound as lighthearted as possible. It works; Vanko snorts and throws back,
"Can try like hell."
It takes everything Stark has not to ball his hands into fists and rant, at Ivan, at himself, at the stupid girl whose name he's already forgotten, at Pepper and Yulia, at life in general for making him so fucking easy and Ivan so fucking broken. Instead he raises his arms and wraps them around Vanko's waist.
"Don't try."