So everyone knows, I do read over earlier chapters and current chapters once every three days or so and I edit them. I'm not changing any details but I do delete/change repeated words and spellcheck. So by the end of this story everything should be perfect :)
Steve's eyes opened again, pulling himself from the depths of sleep at the muffled sound of his door shutting. He sat up on his elbow, scrubbing the back of his hand over his eyes to clear the fog. He remembered...there was someone in here. Not just in his dream. There was a tray of food on his dresser, loaded with fruit and vegetable and that new sweet oatmeal stuff he liked so much.
"Tony?" he rasped, wishing desperately the man had stayed. He sat up properly, smiling at the memory of the dream he'd had earlier. It had been about Tony again, this time they'd gone farther than ever before. It had started right in the middle of them necking like a couple of teenagers, hands roaming far beyond what was decent. His cheeks warmed as he remembered the way Tony's fingers had crept down his hip, across the swell of his cheek, and close to his entrance. He'd made all these horrible embarrassing noises, begging the billionaire for more. In the perfection that only existed in dreams he'd already been stretched and slick, accepting the man's fingers easily.
Oh, how he had ridden the man's fingers. They'd felt so good, rough and filling, the definition of perfection. He'd been in the process of begging for more when he'd woken up, jostled awake by the sound of bird pecking insistently at his window.
Steve made a face, recalling how early it had been. He'd been left hard and aching, annoyed at being interrupted and still aching for more. It had taken a minute to convince himself that it was natural and accepted now, but he'd finally decided to take care of himself.
It had been wonderful. In his passion, he'd taken the fantasy further and fantasized about how Tony would feel inside him. His mind the billionaire had been generous but teasing, making him beg for what he wanted. He'd given him everything, trusting him with his body as well as his heart. He'd never cum so hard before. That wasn't much of a statement, though, he'd barely gotten off a dozen times in his entire life.
Steve grabbed the tray and pulled it into his lap, promising himself he'd never tell Tony of that little fact. He was sure the man would never stop teasing him.
Halfway through his breakfast he remembered the second dream, the one that came to him after he'd fallen back asleep. It wasn't nearly as fanciful or as sinful as he would've liked but it had that note of home he'd been yearning for. His mind had replayed the day he'd been transformed, right down to his embarrassing collapse on the floor. Howard had been the first one he'd seen and heard, the first one he'd felt. He remembered his face being grabbed, the touch gentle and warm on his new skin.
Steve remembered being elated. He'd felt worn out but strong, his lungs heaving in great breaths without an ounce of trouble for the first time in life. Howard had ruffled his hair and said 'perfect' or something.
"Howard?"
"Yeah, I'm here."
"Did it go okay?"
Howard's smile had been blinding, "Like I said: perfect."
Steve had been so happy in that moment, he could still remember how big his smile had been and how Howard had teased him later for looking like a goofball. Dreams were coming true that day.
Back in present, Steve dropped his spoon back into the bowel. Tragedy had followed that day, the death of the good doctor dampening his spirits. But the dream hadn't gotten that far, he'd woken up just now. Or...had he? He was pretty sure he managed to open his eyes just for a moment, seeing the dark figure of a man looking down on him. There had been all this light, just like at the lab back then, but different. The hand on his face had been calloused and familiar, that short dark hair...
Steve got up, heading toward the bathroom.
It had to have been the dream, there was no way Tony had been beside him.
xXx
An hour later Steve emerged from the shower, donning a powder blue t-shirt and a pair of jeans that looked quite old but were brand new and comfortable. It was one of the outfits that had arrived with his new wardrobe, each stitch of clothing hand-picked by Tony himself. They'd spent an entire afternoon going through the clothes, the genius holding up each item to Steve's body and even had him try on a few things for him. The few things Tony had decided didn't look as good as he had originally thought ended up strewn over DUM-E.
Steve felt special, he couldn't believe Tony cared so much about what he wore. He loved being the center of the man's attention, the focus of his world.
Steve sat down on the couch, grabbing the remote and flipping the TV on.
"JARVIS?" the blonde tilted back his head "Where's Tony?"
The AI didn't answer, the soldier smiled. Good, that must mean the genius is sleeping. The only time JARVIS didn't answer him was when Tony was fast asleep.
So the soldier decided to settle down for a little bit of TV, then he'd go find Tony for dinner.
xXx
The moment Tony reached his office he went for the liquor cabinet.
"JARVIS!" he barked, tearing open the door and pushing through the bottle for something hard "No calls. Disable Pepper's override to the apartment. I'm serious, don't let anyone in here."
"What am I to tell Captain Rogers when he inquires about your absence?"
"Don't tell him anything" Tony tossed a bottle to the floor, it shattered and flooded the wood "If he's insistent, tell him I'm in a meeting. Don't you fucking dare side with him again."
Tony grabbed what he assumed was rum with the label ripped off, twisting off the cap and chugging. It burned hot down his throat, tearing the soft flesh, nearly making him gag. He drank in big gulps, refusing to give even an inch on the burn or the dizziness. He took half the bottle before he stopped, gasping loudly and wiping at his wet mouth.
The scream he emitted was inhuman, he took the glass door out with the blunt of his forearm. The glass scratched him up, barely enough to bleed.
It wasn't enough, he needed more.
He went for the bookshelf, manuals and classics alike feeling the blunt of his rage. He ripped them to pieces, tossing them hard at the wall and knocking off knick-knacks and pictures along the way. He went for the bottle greedily, taking down as much as he could.
All these thoughts! His dad, his wonderfully brilliant bastard of a father, was always in his life. Always looming over him, always showing him up. At the bottom of every bottle, in every wire in every circuit board, and in every smile from Steve – there was his father. A smug ghost, a reminder of an empty childhood, a nasty remnant of his soldier's past.
But how nasty? That was the real question, wasn't it? How close did the two of them get?
Tony started at a pace, scratching at his forearms as if to claw off at the skin. That hurt him more than anything else. He could see it so clearly in a hundred different ways, each more vivid and raunchy than the last. He was sure his father had been an unappreciative bastard, touching and taking without love like a common beast.
Tony swept everything off the desk, lips drawn back in a snarl.
But what if he had? What if that bastard had taken Steve with all the tenderness a lover could want? What if he'd done the things that Tony had only fantasized about?
And then it came full circle. The man he was throwing a jealous tantrum about was his father, the man who provided his life.
Neither Steve nor himself would exist without Howard Stark.
Tony roared, flipping the desk over with a satisfying crunch. It felt into several pieces, splinters spilling across the floor.
"No matter what I do-" the lamp was next, getting smacked over the desk and snapping in half "-it's all his! This fucking company, my life, my hero – it's his!"
The whole bookshelf was toppled, shelves breaking apart under the force.
"I just wanted this one thing, you son-of-a-bitch" he paced, snatching the half-spilled rum off the floor and bringing it to his parched mouth "He was going to be the one thing I don't share. You've had everything first...why did you..."
Tony polished off the bottle, wielding it like a throwing star at the window. It smacked off the glass, thudding to the floor with a soft crack but nothing more.
"Why him?" Tony hissed, stalking to the cabinet "Why did you put your fucking mitts on Captain America?"
Every piece of his life that mattered belonged to his father. This company, the contracts, Pepper, and now Steve. The only thing he had was the Iron Man suits, now powered by a failing arc reactor. He glared at offensive object, catching the reflection in the glass of the remaining door. He grabbed the nearest thing and yanked the cap off, taking it down like water.
How could he be so stupid? Steve could never love him, not with his heart still in the past. His father had obviously played some big part in his life. All that talk about Captain America had been true, he had to give his old man that. He could remember half-formed rumblings of sweet smiles and soft hair, but he'd always assumed it was some lady friend. Maybe Howard had been talking about Steve all this time? Maybe his mother had just been a replacement...
No, not a replacement. A consolation prize for losing the sweetest man to ever live in the water.
Everything hurt and nothing would ever be okay again.
Tony slammed his back against the wall, nursing the bottle once more.
xXx
An embarrassingly two hours later, Steve turned off the TV. This box was addictive, one little history special and all sense of time was lost. He got up and stretched, wondering what his friend was doing. He could use some lab time, that was for sure. He loved watching Tony work, every act of genius making him fall even more in love with the man.
Steve paused, biting back a mental protest. No, he needed to let himself think about it. Maybe if he said it enough he'd get used to it. Maybe...
Steve went for the door, smiling brightly at the thought of seeing Tony. He grabbed the knob but found it didn't move, stuck in place. His smile faded, shaking the knob to dislodge. He pushed at the door with the flat of hi palm and turned the knob harder, scowling.
"Uh, JARVIS, unmute please" Steve requested "My door's locked."
"Affirmative."
Steve pursed his lips, "So...unlock it."
"I'm afraid I cannot, Captain Rogers."
"Why not?" the blonde pushed at the door again, frustration welling up in his chest.
JARVIS didn't answer. Steve backed up, recalling every sci-fi movie he'd watched about rogue AI's. The robots always turn, he learned that lesson quickly. He liked JARVIS, he trusted any machine Tony built, but he couldn't take that chance. Besides, if Shield couldn't keep him under wraps, what made JARVIS think this house could?
Steve took the door down with one blow, the door flying across the room to smack against the wall. He waited for an alarm to sound but nothing happened. So he took a chance and went for it.
He made it up to Tony's floor no problem, debating between the lab or the bedroom.
"JARVIS?" Steve spoke up, walking slowly across the room "Where's Tony?"
"He's at a meeting, sir."
"You're lying" Steve accused "Which means Tony made you lie. Where is he really? You know whatever's happened, I can fix it. You trust me when it comes to him, I know you do."
JARVIS took a moment to respond, "Spare office."
Steve knew how hard it was to disobey Tony's orders so he didn't push. He hurried to the side office, finding the door there shut as tight as his bedroom had been. For a moment he wished he kept his shield in his room instead of in the lab but he didn't let that discourage him. He braced himself and ran forward, landing against it with a sick thud. Pain shot through his shoulder, leaching down into his arm and chest. The door was made of metal but badly shaken, the hinges had rattled beneath the force.
Tony would be proud at the sudden thought that came to him. Steve braced one hand agains the door and curled the other into a fist, punching the surface only twice. Once by each hinge, snapping the metal. He broke the handle clean off, leaving the door (unbraced) to fall inside the room.
He almost wished he hadn't.
Steve ate up the distance of the office in seconds, tackling the genius and knocking both the pistol and the bottle of dark amber alcohol. Steve pushed the slighter man up against the wall, the hand that had wielded the pistol pinned high above their heads and his meaty forearm strapped across the man's damaged chest. Tony didn't put up an ounce of fight, slumping into the wall like a doll. The sour stench of alcohol clung to every inch of him, explaining so much. That drink was the devil's nectar and Steve hated it more than he'd ever hated anything else in his life.
Dark eyes cracked open, revealing a film of crimson and tears. It broke Steve's heart to see his charismatic best friend reduced to a lush mess. His arm slid up from Tony's chest to curl around his neck. He laced his fingers in feather-light hair, cradling the man's head in his broad palm.
"Tony, please" Steve wasn't sure what to say "Don't...don't do this..."
"I never do it" Tony hissed lowly "I've been here a thousand times before, Cap. I don't need you to stop me."
Tony broke his wrist free, pushing at the man's chest uselessly.
"I was fine before you!" Tony ripped the fingers out of his hair, the soldier barely had time to let go "And I'll sure as hell be fine when you're gone."
"When I'm...?" Steve trailed off, grabbing the man's hand "Come on, Tony, you're drunk. Let's get you back to bed. I'll get you some water. You'll feel better in the morning and then we'll talk."
"You think a little nap will fix me?" Tony swung the blonde's hand off " 'd you fix my dad like this? That sweet fucking smile and a promise of bed?"
Steve looked ready to deny it, the genius cut him of, "Tell me the truth!"
"Tony..." Steve took a deep breath "Whatever your father and I did has nothing to do with you."
"And there it is!" Tony glared fiercely, hands fisting "How many times?"
The soldier had no clue what was going on, his confusion clear on his face, "How many times – what? Tony, what are you going on about?"
"How many times did you let him fuck you?" Tony growled, crowding into the blonde's space "How many times did you let him bend you over and just fucking take it?"
Steve flushed brightly, horribly disgusted, "You're drunk. Calm down."
"This is as calm as I'm going to fucking get!" Tony whirled around, grabbing another bottle and pointing it at the soldier accusingly "You were just another one of my dad's floozies, weren't you? You let him put his filthy hands on you and you never even bothered to tell me!"
Tony got close again, free hand reaching up to trace the pale blue collar.
"I let you sleep in my home, in my spare bed...dress in my pretty clothes..." the man's voice was like crushed velvet and gravel, fingers teasing the tan skin "And all this time you've just been my old man's whore."
Steve brushed his hand away, hurt weighing like lead in his chest. He couldn't believe Tony was saying these things. Where had he gotten these crazy ideas?
"I'm not. You have no idea what you're talking about" Steve assured him, trying to keep his voice steady "Howard and I weren't like that. Nothing happened."
"You're lying" Tony's smile was almost hysteric, the little laugh he gave bordering on a breakdown "I can see it in your eyes. He's the face you see when you look at your shield. Fuck, he's the face you see when you look at me."
The soldier shook his head, opening his mouth to defend himself.
"No! Don't you stand there and deny it!" he gestured wildly "You can't tell me you don't see him when you look at me. He was the first word out of your mouth when you saw me. Admit it."
"Maybe at first" Steve saw the man's jaw tense and his fists clench at his sides, his words coming out in a rush "But only because I'm alone here! Howard was my friend and I felt safe with you! I don't think you two are the same, I promise. You couldn't be more different!"
"You say his name in your sleep" Tony growled, hands itching to wrap around the soldier's throat and shake him.
"How did you know-?"
"It doesn't matter" Tony muttered "He tried to teach you dance, he gave you the shield, he made you a body – what else did my sainted father give to you, huh?"
Steve closed his eyes briefly, barely holding onto his calm, "We don't have to talk about him now. If you sleep and sober up, we'll talk it all out tomorrow. I promise."
"Did you fuck?" he pestered.
Steve huffed, ears blood-red now, "No, of course not."
"Then what did you two do!" Tony screamed, nearly out of his mind with the thought "Why is he always between us? What is so fucking special about him?"
Tony choked, eyes shining, "Why do you talk about him like you're in love with him?"
"Because I thought I was!" Steve shouted back, heart clenching so tight in his chest he could barely breathe "Because he kissed me and I thought he was everything I ever wanted."
Tony swelled with rage, teeth bared in a primal instinct to mark and bite this man until he swore he was his. In one rough motion he toppled the large liquor cabinet, spilling and breaking every bottle inside.
"Everything's going to hell, and now this" Tony punted one of the bottles, it shattered amber liquid all over the nearest wall "First Aghanistan, then this fucking shrapnel, Obi, the government and their damn weapons, and now my dad's back from the dead. He's there, in your head. He's always there..."
Tony trailed off, the gears in his mind working through the alcohol and over time on this new thought. Steve was rambling on about how it wasn't like that, how they'd never done anything.
"Tony, please don't be angry" Steve lowered his arms, his heart falling open in hopes to reach the other man "He's not the one in my dreams at night."
Tony surged at the blonde, grabbing him by the shoulders and pinning him to the nearest wall. Steve didn't dare fight back, he didn't want to hurt the other. Tony's grip was strong and sure on his skin, enough to hurt.
"Tony" Steve was breathless, the brunette was nosing behind his ear "What are you doing?"
"Claiming what's mine" Tony's fingers dug into his arm, keeping them pinned "Stark Industry created you. My dad gave you everything from your body to your suit to your precious shield. Right?"
Steve was silent, focused on the strong body pressed up against every inch of his own.
"Right?"
"Y-Yes" Steve nodded, warm lips brushing along his hairline.
"So you're property of Stark Industry, it made you" Tony trailed his mouth down, inhaling the addictive clean scent of the super soldier "That makes you mine."
Steve's body betrayed him at those words. Fantasies from earlier crept into his mind, reminding him how good the genius's fingers had felt inside him. Dream Tony had whispered over and over about how he belonged to him, how he'd be the only one to have this. He willed his arousal away but the way Tony touched him made it hard.
"He wouldn't shut up about you" Tony was hissing "As soon as he touched that bottle, it was your name. Steve, Steve, Steve...how you did this or that. The great Captain America, our hero...trapped at the bottom of the ocean, a Sleeping Beauty he couldn't find."
Tony pulled back, wetting his lips at the sight of the flushed blonde.
"I know why now" Tony's grin was just as sharp as his words "You're fucking gorgeous, you know that? You're gorgeous and you're all mine."
The billionaire went in for a kiss but Steve wrenched his head away, refusing to let their first kiss be like this. He'd pined for that kind of contact for weeks and he sure as hell wasn't going to waste it like this.
"Stop" he demanded, praying for it not to happen. He could easily defend himself but he didn't want to hurt Tony, he didn't want to ruin them. Damn that alcohol! Damn Howard!
Tony wouldn't be diverted, his mouth going straight for the golden length of neck laid bare before him. He sank his teeth into the skin, moaning at the taste, wanting more than this. He locked his jaw, satisfaction bathing his nerves as a tang of iron touched his tongue. Beneath his mouth he could feel a grunt, the little whine of pain that followed cut through the drunken haze.
Tony pulled away like he'd been seared, stumbling back from the blonde. He nearly tripped over his fallen desk but managed to stay upright. Steve slumped against the wall, bringing a hand up to his neck. He fingered the oozing mark, wincing. He pulled his fingers back to find scarlet painting the digits, he paled. Steve could feel the tears welling but he kept them back, he was tired of showing his weakness in front of this man.
"You're just like him" Steve spat, pushing away from the wall "No better."
"Steve..." Tony started, but the soldier was already storming out "Steve! Wait, please! I'm sorry, I just...I'm sorry!"
AN: Wow, right? Nice. I had another like 7 pages to add to this chapter but I decided to give you a reason to come back. I realize the expectation are getting higher for this fic, every review makes me giddy but so worried I'm going to fuck it up. I pulled an all-nighter for this one, I really wanted to get something out because this week I'm sure I won't type much. I wrote all of this while watching Dr. Who, it was fantastic.
I know some of you absolutely LOVE how I portray these characters (and that makes me happy and squee-y) but I feel like I'm teetering on the brink of making Steve too girly. It's not that he's weak, he's just against using his strength against his friends. I just believe he'd never use his super strength against Tony or Howard.
PS: How I portray Tony? Mildly suicidal and reckless, like he was in Iron Man 2 (which this is the re-write of). My Steve? He's sweet, when he's not on the battlefield he's just that ignorant kid from Brooklyn who's vulnerable on the inside. Don't like it? Don't read. He'll have his masculine moments, trust me. But if you haven't read my fics before, there's always a slightly less masculine character. That and I want to see Steve all sweet and soft.