A/N: Sorry for the delay in updating and for the choppiness of the chapter. My free/ writing and editing time had been greatly reduced lately and tomorrow I leave for two weeks vacation, so I wanted to get this up before then.
Clint wasn't the only one who had come to visit Tony that weekend. Rhodey showed up late Sunday morning with Bruce in tow to find strangers, relatively young strangers, sleeping haphazardly on the furniture. The floor and tables were a sea of pizza boxes, bottles of all shapes and sizes from a number of different brewers and distillers, what appeared to be clothing—albeit very odd clothing, some of the most outrageous headwear he'd ever seen, what could only be a robotized Wilson the volleyball rolling around and bumping ungracefully into just about everything, and a giant battleaxe, or hopefully just a very convincing replica of one.
The islands in this detritus were the couches and recliners covered with passed out coeds, looking liked they'd just fallen where they lay at some point during the night, limbs hanging over the edges like captive tree sloths asleep at the zoo. Bruce had to kick more than one beer bottle out of the way to even move into the room beside the colonel.
There was no sign of Clint or Tony, but the further into the room they moved the more the coeds began to stir with the noise of loud feet and clinking bottles.
"I'm afraid of what I'll find in Tony's room," Col. Rhodes said bending over to retrieve something from the floor. When he stood he was holding a bright red wig in one hand and what looked like three green mushrooms in the other. "I think Shrek and Fiona were here," he added while holding two of the mushroom like things to either side of his head in imitation of the ogre.
"Looks like we missed quite the party," Bruce responded, shaking his head but unable to disguise the fond smile at his teammate's antics, and moved towards the sofa where a girl dressed in the vinyl Twister game mat was sitting up and adjusting the spinner that was somehow still attached to her head. She moaned groggily, obviously hung over, and he winced in sympathy having been there himself recently at the hands of Clint and Tony.
"I'll go get Tony. It's up to you if you want to find Barton or deal with this," the Colonel said as he waved around the room. Bruce decided he would follow the other man down the hall towards the bedrooms, but would do it as loudly as possible hoping the sleeping students would miraculously awaken and vacate before he returned to the living room, though if they decided to stay and pick up a little after themselves, he wouldn't begrudge them that.
As Rhodey entered his friend's room after the most fleeting of knocks, knowing Tony would still be sleeping and very hung over, he was surprised by three things.
First, the playboy was alone. He'd expected to find at least one other person in his friend's bed but would not have been surprised if there had been more. They'd been friends for a long time and he'd known the billionaire since their days here on this campus, and Tony could always find a willing bedmate…or ten.
Second, that Tony was even awake and decidedly less debauched looking than he had expected. And he had to admit that what he saw didn't resemble the drunk or hung over person he unfortunately knew too well. Tony looked sleepy and had ugly yellowish grey bruises healing and a couple of dusky pink puckered lines mending into scars along the left side of his face, but he was a hell of a lot more alert than the colonel imagined.
The third thing that surprised him was very short lived. Tony had eyeliner, a lot of eyeliner, smeared around both eyes. The effect actually distracted from the bruising. It had been jarring at first, but Rhodey noticed the Green Day t shirt and quickly connected that there had been a costume party here last night and knew his friend well enough to realize he had probably dressed as Billie Joe Armstrong or maybe some other rocker, complete with fake tattoos up and down his arms. He hoped they were fake anyways.
"Hey Tones," Rhodey said quietly, approaching the bed where his friend was already sitting up. He sat on the mattress as Tony rubbed his eyes slowly, clearly favoring the left, trying to banish the last dregs of sleep but making a God awful mess in the process. He couldn't help but chuckle, "looks like someone had the time of their life."
"Ha-ha," The genius mumbled, startling Rhodey who had forgotten for a moment about the secured jaw. "No, but I sang it too many times to be counted, or cool…even for me, and drooled all over myself in the process, you should have been here," He finally stopped rubbing and looked up at Rhodey, considering, "but let me guess…radio silence breaks, you get a message from Pepper about this," he paused, doing a Vanna White type gesture at his face, then continued, "Who'd you see first, me or him?"
It was hard to talk about him with Rhodey. He was certain his dysfunctional thing with Steve wasn't a secret from…well from anyone apparently, but the fact that there was even anything at all made the whole punch thing seem even worse. And he knew Rhodey; he wouldn't let this go without saying something to Steve, at the bare minimum. He could only hope his friend had come to him first so he could at least try to talk him out of any sort of altercation with Steve. Sometimes Rhodey's big brother complex was endearing and sometimes, like right now, it was exactly the opposite.
"First of all, it was actually EMCON[6], and second, you, dumb ass. I need the full story before I go off and beat him senseless." He looked serious, dead serious, and if anyone could take Steve in a fight—without suits or weapons—it'd probably be Rhodey, well most likely Natasha too, and he didn't need his friend to defend his honor, again.
"Listen, lollipop, I really do appreciate the chivalry but it's done, in fact it's overdone, so just leave it alone." It was as pointless as asking Pepper for a raise, but he had to try, because he just wanted everyone to forget about this. He knew the right mix of emotions he needed to display to gain Rhodey's compliance; it was a combination of looking like he had something incredibly sour on his tongue while at the same time mimicking a child looking at their brand new kitten for the first time. It was a tricky mix but he could pull it off (it worked about 39 percent of the time) now he just had to hope his face would cooperate.
"It's going to damage my reputation a little, beating the crap out of Captain America…" he shrugged the rest of the sentence away. "Don't give me that look, Tony. I can't just let this go. And before you feel the need to lie to my face, I saw the whole thing. I heard the whole thing. You didn't deserve it."
"Let's save that for now." He was well aware that they could have circular discussions for days about what he did and didn't deserve. "Clint said something in the hospital about hearing the whole thing too, and what bothers me about that, aside from half the people I know hearing my pathetic rant, is that before I said anything I turned the comms and the cameras off, intentionally. So how the fuck is it possible that anyone can watch it and everyone seems to wants to, like it's the goddamned Zapruder[7] film?" He pushed the sheets aside and rose from the bed to pace angrily, though continuing to speak with arms flailing wildly. "We were alone, by design, and there should have been no recordings of any kind because, and you may find this hard to believe, but I have learned a thing or two about discretion recently," he snarked, then paused to swallow the buildup of saliva that had accumulated, disgustingly, during his tirade.
"Sir, there are nine guests currently awake and unattended in the living room and kitchen," JARVIS' smooth voice filled the pause. After a moment of seemingly waiting for a reply, and none forthcoming, he went on, "Agent Barton and Dr. Banner are looking for you now, should I direct them to your quarters?"
"My quarters, J? What the hell have you been watching?"
"The military reference was for Col. Rhodes' benefit." JARVIS replied loftily.
"Appreciated, JARVIS, thank you," Rhodey said, barely containing a fond snicker.
Tony's response came in the form of an aggravated exhale and a jerky head nod in the affirmative. He turned towards his friend again.
"I'm serious, Jim. Let this go." Rhodey visibly started at the use of his first name, it had been decades since Tony had called him that and it felt wrong and uncomfortable, like shoes on the wrong feet.
"Nice try, Anthony…not a chance." Rhodey's words were accompanied by a harsh bark of laughter, though more irony than humor.
Tony fought off the squirreling attempt of a grin. Rhodey was like Steve in this way, in a few ways really…tall, muscular, military, handsome—so not his intended train of thought though, what he was going for originally was old school stubbornness. That would seriously be a contest of wills, brick against stone, but Steve would probably win because he always wins.
"Can you just be my friend without the big, tough guy, thug routine? Just—I don't know—be here for me or something. Like back in the day, you'd tell me what an idiot I was, I would agree, enough said." Tony affected a wounded tone, or as near as he could come while his lip was twitching.
"Tony, you're not a kid anymore, you were not the idiot here and 'back in the day' you would have brushed it off, drunk yourself into a stupor and 'shagged ten chicks'." Rhodey was making quotation marks with his fingers. "The grown up version of you seems to have had a party here last night, complete with attractive females and plenty of booze, yet wakes up sober and alone." Rhodey reasoned calmly.
"Okay…so, what are you saying exactly, Mr. Air Quotation Marks, that something is wrong because I'm not hung over? Because there isn't a naked person in here with me? If those are your 'words of wisdom," Tony said stiffly, very much exaggerating the air quotes, "you've been a big help, thanks." He finished, angling his chin defiantly at the taller man.
"I'm saying you're acting differently because this time it means something to you, you actually care about him. A lot from what I heard." Rhodey said fondly, looking at his friend and thinking how much he really had 'grown up' recently, ignoring, of course, the eyeliner and tattoo covered arms. "That's why I'm going to hurt him for what he did." He knew how Tony would react to that and he'd tried not to say it, but in the end he just couldn't resist.
Tony's response was a loud, angry groan shortly followed by a vigorous head shake. He wanted to scream and rant right now, but he'd promised to be good and not overdue it. Today was the day the arch restraints were supposed to come off and he didn't want to fuck it up, not when he was so close…but grrrrr he wanted to. Instead he took several deep breaths maintaining eye contact so Rhodey didn't think he was acquiescing, composed himself, and said, "It really wasn't that different from many of our arguments, cream puff." He gestured between the two of them, because they'd had some real doozies over the years.
"Tony…don't. Don't equate me with him and don't act like this is no big deal."
Eyes dark and somber but voice steady, he replied, "I've pissed you off to that point before, we've both thrown punches on occasion and if I recall correctly, you fired a repulsor at me not so very long ago." He could see the agreement warring with the argument on Rhodey's face, and he knew this wasn't over.
"How can you even compare the two, Tony? Sure, we've had a scuffle or two, mostly when we were younger—"
"You were twenty five the last time an argument between us came to blows without one or both of us in armor, buddy, not exactly a kid, and oddly enough, roughly the same age as Steve. And again, you fired a repulsor—my own repulsor—at me, granted, I fired at you too, but we were going at each other pretty hard that night, and I don't see people who want to beat you up for it. I don't blame you for any of it, things happen. Let. It. Go."
"Tony…you were very out of control, and you were wearing the armor. It's not the same thing."
"Exact same thing here, you were both trying to shut me up except Steve was fucking me and you are my best friend, the person I trust more than any other in this world, even Pepper. So what the fuck is the difference? You laid the smack down while I was hammered, completely out of my mind, and, you know, dying. That's got to be right up there with random fuck buddy."
Rhodey stared, momentarily stunned, before blinking slowly until his composure returned. "I can't believe you're serious. I know there is nothing random about him and you consider him much more than a fuck buddy, but he cheated on you, Tony, and I saw how that affected you. And then he punched you, that's abus—"
"Do not say abuse." Tony pointed at him, attempting to dial back his anger, "What Howard did…that's abuse and not even remotely similar to this."
He was so frustrated he wanted to bang his head against the wall, scream, pull out his hair…do something, anything, that was not continue this conversation. Rhodey was such a goddamned do-gooder, he never fucked up anything, so he had no idea where Tony was coming from, but he wanted him to. If he wanted Rhodey to understand though, he would have to make him, which meant at least a few more minutes of this torture…where the hell were Clint and Bruce when he needed them?
Usually when people found out who he was he had to fight his own past, overcome his sordid reputation, and he could do that well, was very good at that, but with him, with Steve he'd been fighting against Howard's memory and he'd never known how to do that without angry words or just walking away, never had a handle on what to say, because the truth certainly wasn't an option. And he'd known Cap looked down on him for that, anyone who knew Howard outside of the booze and the family life would think the same way as Steve. It was a less than auspicious beginning that he was still trying to work past, but added to the total self denial Steve had going on about homosexuality meant the fact they'd even been together once was an anomaly. He'd been sure, though, that something was changing in Steve's mind. His touch had been less hesitant and the look in his eye seemed more guarded, though wondrously no less innocent.
Rhodey didn't need that piece of information to understand why he and Steve were on opposite sides of the page, at least in that regard.
"Listen to what I'm saying. Please. He had no idea it was anything but casual. My reaction was bad because I was planning to tell him everything, confess my feelings or whatever, and it caught me totally off guard, completely by surprise, and I lost my temper." He paused to take a breath, but keeping it rabbit quick so Rhodey wouldn't jump in. "Yes, he lost his too, but it really should have been nothing, like when we've fought, every time we've fought, on even footing and never intending to do damage. The face shield was down, like every time you've punched me while I was in the suit, but oops. I'll figure out what happened and fix it, but if it had happened while we were fighting would you deserve the same reaction?"
"Tony…" He tried to imagine swinging for his friend or throwing something that would do severe, possibly fatal, damage to a normal, un-suited, un-serumed, human and seeing any part of the armor fail while Tony took the full force of it.
"I can be an annoying little shit when I want to be and I was upset…I pushed him, and you can't look me in the eye and tell me you haven't been there yourself." He paused for another breath and to say goodbye to a little more of his pride. "There are things that hurt a hell of a lot more than my face, and you can't fix that, you can't make him feel something he doesn't, so don't you dare try to guilt him into it. He has bigger issues here." Rhodey's skeptical expression did nothing to help his frustration. And he continued slowly, really needing to put it so that his friend could see where he was coming from. Agreeing with him was probably out of the question, this was Rhodey after all, but understanding was a start and he could live with that for now.
"Think for a second. Think about what being gay was like when he grew up. Fuck, I wouldn't be surprised if guys in his neighborhood were beaten to death for it." His friend's expression didn't change exactly, but there was a very minor separation of the eyebrows, an ease in the compressed features.
"He's frustrated and fighting the truth about who he is, what he is. Think about how hard that must be for him." He swallowed loudly before continuing, "Apparently he's found a girl, that's good for him, right—what he always believed was the only choice? Of course it is, but even I know he's wracked with guilt over the damage done physically. I'm sure he felt terrible and I shouldn't have left because that probably made it worse—and I left him to deal with Pepper, ouch—but I wasn't ready to face him, I'm still not, but I want to get back in the suit and in order to do that we have to make peace and become friends again. I know that."
"For christ's sake, think about how embarrassed and dejected he gets when he forgets to recycle. Some things are still so new to him," Tony reasoned.
Rhodey scrubbed a hand over his face in what Tony expected was agitation, but was surprised to see was more like resignation when the hand lowered. "Okay, Tony. I can see how much this means to you, so whatever you want, I don't want to fight with you about this right now, but do not mistake that for me thinking what he did is okay. The culpability here is not yours."
"Thank you. I'm glad you always have my back, but trust me here; there is nothing to be done, okay?" It was said evenly, but with an air of finality, which of course was totally disregarded by the Colonel.
"Can I at least glare angrily at him?" Rhodey said with the most welcome grin Tony had seen in a very long time.
He was just about to answer in his usual, sarcastic but grateful way when he saw Clint, followed closely by Bruce come into the room.
"What the hell took you guys so long? JARVIS said you were coming like ten minutes ago."
The four went out for brunch, leaving the initial cleanup to the bots and the finer details to a (very well paid for coming on the weekend) maid.
Tony had gone on to tell them that he had been offered to assist in teaching the Great Ideas in Theoretical Computer Science course, because a) "Dr. Haslinger was a bit of a fan boy", and b)"who the hell was better at that sort of thing?" MIT had many famous graduates, but Tony was right at the top amongst them and the Institute would be foolish not to enlist his skills if he was willing to give them.
He'd declined graciously because he wouldn't be here that long, but couldn't say no to aiding in the lecture on supersymmetry tomorrow morning. It was the main reason he'd switched his appointment with Dr. Fulton to today, a Sunday, and begged her to consider removing the arch bars if she thought he was close to ready, swearing on his life not to overdo it.
Bruce and Tony talked excitedly about the quantum world, particle physics, the Higgs Boson, and the blossoming field of Theoretical Physics. Tony was wrapped so tightly in the discussion he'd forgotten about the other two, but as he'd reached for his espresso and found the spot empty he tore his eyes away from the equations Bruce was rapidly covering napkin after napkin with to look up and seek it out.
Rhodey and Clint looked like co-conspirators, colluders with heads close together, hushed murmurs the only sound audible above the scratching of Bruce's pen.
"A-hem," He cleared his throat loudly, knowing neither of the well trained men would startle at the sound, but it didn't hurt to try. "Care to share with the rest of the class?"
"Not really. No." Rhodey said, face impassive as ever.
Clint looked defiant; like he really had something he wanted to say but was fighting it on account of the colonel's words.
Tony looked back and forth between the two, trying to find a tell, some indicator of what was so secretive a moment ago. It had to be about him, or Steve. He steepled his fingers and rested his chin on top, continuing to let his eyes study one and then the other. Both remained stoic under the scrutiny, and Bruce must have picked up on the odd vibe as the scratching came to a halt.
"What's going on?" Bruce inquired exasperatedly.
As Clint answered with every mask of innocence, Tony turned his attentions to his oldest and best of friends. He glared knowing and warningly at him, a silent command to drop whatever he was thinking because Tony realized it had to be in regards to Steve. People tended to succumbed to that particular look, but not Rhodey, most of his many intimidating looks worked as well on the soldier as they did on Pepper, which was to say, not at all.
"Well then, Tony," Bruce interrupted the failed intimidation attempt. "We should finish up and call Happy. Your appointment is in an hour."
The four decided, by what could hardly (Clint) be called mutual consent that Happy would drop Tony and Bruce off at the Oral Surgeon's office, bring Rhodey and Clint back to Tony's place, then return to pick up the other two when they were ready. Bruce suggested the plan, a rarity in itself and a closer inspection of the would-be nonchalant expression told Tony there was a reason behind the suggestion. He wanted to tease, make a crack or two about the oral surgeon, and Bruce wanting her all to himself or something, but he had a broken heart and jaw, not a broken brain, and he could tell there was something else, something much more serious.
He didn't have to wait long to find out. Nearly the second the car pulled away from the curb Bruce asked, "What do you know about the creatures we were called out for the last time?"
"Uh," Tony began as he shuffled his thoughts; the question was unexpected to say the least. "No real danger that we could sense, Non-Newtonian obviously, inorganic possibly. I can have J bring up the scans when we get back."
"Were the armor's scanners faulty at all? Maybe you noticed something earlier?" Bruce asked leadingly.
"No. Everything was functioning at a hundred percent; it wasn't exactly a taxing encounter."
Bruce tread lightly, but had to ask, "could damage to the armor done after the encounter change the initial scans in any way?"
"That's a ridiculous question, and you know it?" Tony said, with a slight edge of agitation. "What are you getting at?"
"Would it be possible to examine samples in a campus lab?"
"Yes. I can make arrangements for tomorrow, or we could go this evening if absolute privacy isn't a concern. Are you going to tell me why—at least the reason my lab won't work?" If anyone had a good reason for these odd questions it was Bruce, but the knowledge of that didn't dull Tony's curiosity in the slightest.
"For some reason I can't even guess at, JARVIS is skewing the data." Bruce said it bluntly, not wanting to merely hint and have Tony defend his creation; he wanted to make it clear that JARVIS was intentionally trying to keep him from knowing.
"What?" Tony just stood there staring at Bruce. His thoughts were like pollen in the wind for a second as he looked at his friend, not needing any confirmation that he was very serious, but finding it written all over his face anyways.
"I have a sample and I'd like you to examine it, but not in your lab. That's why I asked about the use of another lab on campus. One JARVIS has no access to"
"Bruce, I don't—" Tony scratched the back of his neck as he spoke. He was caught completely off guard with this and wasn't sure exactly how to respond. If someone else was accusing J Tony could accept it, he would assume they just didn't understand or that J had a reason for keeping information from them. Bruce was the exception and he was accusing J of purposely providing false data.
"Just examine it, Tony, that's all I'm asking right now. We can speculate when that is done, lets go up and get you taken care of first, okay?"
As excited as he'd been to get the damn arch wires off, he couldn't concentrate on Dr. Fulton's droning words or even marvel at her absolutely freezing fingers. She acted like he was an idiot and this was his first rhodeo anyways, so he didn't really need to listen to what she had to say. He didn't know if Bruce was paying attention either, it was hard to tell, but if he had to guess he'd say his friend was still half in awe of her and half focusing on the mystery of JARVIS.
A ridiculous hour and ten minutes later he was arch restraint free, with cleaner teeth than he'd had in weeks and heading to the curb to hail a cab to take them to the campus labs. "Happy is going to be pissed at you for letting me ride anywhere without him." Tony said to Bruce as he rubbed the left side of his jaw soothingly. He'd forgotten how much it hurt to finally be able to move it again. It was worth it though.
"This will be quick; there isn't really a lot to see."
Whether he was right or not was still a mystery, for as the two exited the building Happy was there waiting for them. "Miss Potts is on her way and it's not worth my life to not be waiting for you." Happy grinned, though his tone was unmistakably resigned.
Much later that night, after eating, drinking, a movie or two, so much laughter his face and stomach hurt, and just having fun with his friends (and signing the stack of paperwork Pepper had brought) Tony felt content in a way he wasn't used to. This must be what its like for the kids who go away to summer camp and just enjoy hanging out with their friends away from the real world. He didn't think about the twenty or so projects he had going on back at the tower, he didn't think about Fury or the team. He did have the new information about JARVIS swimming around in the back of his mind, but even that was overshadowed by the warm feeling of camaraderie. He also thought about Steve, but it was more like a wish that he was here to share this with the rest of them, even if it wasn't by Tony's side.
None of them were planning to leave until tomorrow because they were all coming to the lecture. It was a mark of true friendship on Pepper and Clint's parts because they likely wouldn't understand a word of it, but he was grateful anyways. Rhodey and Bruce would get the science, but he knew they were there for support and not interest in the subject and as he walked to his bedroom that night he felt invincible with the weight of such friendship behind him.
Rhodey was waiting for him by the door.
"Tony—" Rhodey started but was cut off.
"Wait. Let me say something first," Tony nearly pleaded. "I know you want to say something about Cap. So just know that I'm starting to get over him," It was a bold faced lie, and probably easily spotted by Rhodey as such, so he amended, "I'm trying anyways, and it's hard when people keep bringing the situation up. Yes, everyone is trying to be delicate, but that's not the point. The point is I've had plenty of time to think about things, have done little else actually, and with the right combination of reason and method, I will overcome. But it is my problem; it should always have been just my problem. You've seen for yourself that I'm not reacting in the usual way, which my liver is no doubt thankful for. Even you said it was the grown up version of me. So, what I need most of all is for you to trust me, I've got this. If I do need help, or want him knocked around, you will be the very first person I call."
Tony sighed at the end of his impassioned speech and Rhodey recognized it for the echo of a wounded soul he knew it to be. But he also knew his friend well enough to see that he was getting better, emotionally and physically.
"You really love him, still?" It was much more a statement than a question. Rhodey was amazed to see his old friend in love at all, he though it'd never happen after Pepper, but Tony was right about being a changed man and much more adult about the entire situation.
"Always. I'm starting to think it'll never go away
It had taken multiple decades and countless encounters to find the one person capable of getting through his finely engineered walls—gaining full access to his heart, but Steve had done it, and it would likely be a few more decades before that even began to fade. Just because he knew the truth of it didn't mean he had to share it with Rhodey.
"Goodnight, buddy, and thanks for being here." He wasn't sure he'd ever been more sincere.
Steve and Natasha hadn't been on the campus more than a few minutes before they discovered Tony was at home in his building, but that Pepper, Rhodey, Clint, Happy and Bruce were all there with him. He wasn't afraid of any of them really, but the chances of going there and having them let him in to speak with Tony were nearly non existent. Just as he was trying to strategize a way around the problem, Natasha returned with the information that there was a lecture this morning listing Tony as a guest speaker.
This would be his chance. His heart pounded in his chest at just the thought of seeing the handsome genius again. It was difficult the wait the few hours, but they'd found a hotel, had some breakfast, showered and changed.
Steve felt a little nervous as he stepped out of the bathroom wearing the clothes Natasha had picked out. He wasn't used to anything except the Captain America uniform being quite this form fitting, but he recognized the glint of approval on her delicate features.
"Without a doubt, you'll be the best looking guy on this campus," She said, her gaze roving over him appreciatively, though a bit uncomfortably.
He cleared his throat, and turned from her slightly as he felt the slight flush on his neck.
With his destination in mind he moved through the hall, gliding seamlessly through the crowded space, not really hearing any of the dozens of conversations going on around him. His nerves were taut, strung tighter than Clint's bow and his chest felt like it was doing its best to contain a stumbling baby rhinoceros, shivery thudding tremors and sporadic, jabbing thrusts, and he was surprised to find no one staring at him because they heard it too. He looked down shyly, barely able to control his flushed excitement at seeing the genius again.
Realizing something and stopping short, he nearly caused the girl behind him in the hall to walk right into him. He made an earnest but brief apology and moved to the side of the busy passage to collect himself before continuing. He would need to look Tony in the eye and not look away, not let his inexperience in matters of the heart get the best of him, to stay focused no matter how flustered or embarrassed he got.
Tony's eyes were a sort of saving grace, what initially drew him in and led him towards kissing the wonderful man and what he should have paid a hell of a lot more attention to in the months that followed that incident. He had missed so many things, like in the recording JARVIS had shown him, and he had to stop again at the thought of that, the heavy feeling in his chest dropping like a stone, weighing him down and rendering him immobile as he realized with horror that he had never looked into Tony's eyes, or seen his entire face even while they were making love—having sex. It hadn't been making love back then, but as God was his witness, if he ever had the chance with Tony again, it would be.
He'd looked into Claire's eyes and immediately found them lacking, wishing they were Tony's. And though he didn't want to, never wanted to again in fact, he thought back to that fateful day. The expression in Tony's eyes, a soul deep anguish, so different from the anger on the rest of his face. And whatever he saw there today he knew would be the truth, at least briefly. Tony could disguise emotion easily, but the eyes were always the last to shift into his cold façade and he would pay attention now that he knew better, knew what to look for. Apparently he was fairly adept at ignoring or denying his own feelings, but Tony would be an open book for the first moments and he refused to miss anything legible there, welcome or otherwise.
Pausing outside the door he took the deepest breath he could to steady himself. His blood was rushing and his breathing threatening to shallow from the heavy combination of intense yearning and nervous apprehension.
The lecture hall was smaller than he expected, but would still accommodate about 150 people. Roughly one third of the seats were already taken, and he stole a glance from under the bill of his hat to check out the last few rows, deciding to sit half way into the third row from the back. He slouched down, wanting to blend in, and looked around for clues about what to do while waiting for class to begin. Most people had tablets of varying size, some had laptop computers and a few were pulling actual notebooks from their bags, a very few.
It had been a long time since he'd sat in a classroom, and never one quite like this, but some things were familiar, never seeming to change. As the room filled to past seating capacity, the noise of shuffling people, rustling bags and hushed conversation grew steadily. More than a dozen people had to resort to sitting on the stairs, and a group of giggling girls came in, surprised into silence by the crowd, and then glared at the front few rows in lament of having to find alternative seating.
Whispered mentions of Tony's name and the sheer volume of the room made it obvious he wasn't the only one who knew who would be assisting in the lecture. The seconds stretched like Coney Island taffy into what felt like hours and the incessant hum only added to his growing restlessness. He couldn't wait to see Tony awake, even in the face of the incredible odds that Tony's reaction would be an inverse of his own. The anticipation was nearly too much, sitting against the side of a foxhole knowing the enemy was about to charge hadn't brought this much spine tingling tension.
At long last two men came in through the door and the hush that fell was instant, as if the house lights had dimmed and the curtain gone up. He couldn't even spare the other man a glance his eyes were so hungry for Tony, and he was helpless to stop them from roving over the billionaire like a starving man's would a roast with all the trimmings. Steve was no stranger to being hungry, surviving both the depression and a war (assuming frozen before the end of was synonymous with surviving) and he knew what it felt like when the crushing ache of hollowness was finally filled. This feeling was in nearly every way comparable to that one, except then it had been in his stomach and now it was about five inches higher.
His gaze was locked on Tony's face; he was staring openly to the point of gawking, and though he was aware of it he couldn't make himself stop looking. And as he gaped like a fool everything seemed to crystallize, to stand still, his heart seemed to stop pumping blood and his lungs took a break from the important task of bringing air in and pushing it out again. It was the most clichéd sentiment the world over, but he'd honestly never seen anything more beautiful in his life, and that was truly saying something because he had once stood and stared, awestruck, beneath the ceiling in the Sistine Chapel. He was dumbfounded, wholly rapt, and he had to remind himself to breath, to pull the needed oxygen in, as if his body was defying him for the weeks of withholding from it what it craved almost as much as air.
A breathless gasp escaped him finally, a small victory in the fight against his own body, a fight he never won when it came to Tony. Lord and all the saints in heaven, he looked fantastic. His hair was shorter than Steve had ever seen it before the hospital, but it had grown since then. The top was a controlled riot of raven spikes with no hint of the curls and waves he was used to seeing.
The scene itself reminded him of when he'd first seen Tony on the helicarrier walking onto the Bridge talking with Bruce and seemingly without a care in the world. This time he was talking to the other man, but he soon turned towards the seats, slid his tinted glasses down his nose an inch and threw the class a very devilish wink. Something inside Steve flipped over, he wasn't quite sure what, but it sent a warmth skittering under his skin. He felt the flush creep up his neck and onto his face as he slouched lower in his seat praying no one would notice. He needn't have worried though, everyone in the room appeared to have there eyes on Tony at the moment, and who the heck could blame them?
His sideburns were longer and when Tony turned slightly to the side Steve noticed that they were attached by a trim line that followed his jaw and joined his goatee. Looking at him head on they were unnoticeable, being just behind the jut of cheekbone and slightly under the jaw, but the effect was very good.
Steve did notice that Tony's left eyebrow and sideburn had the tiniest linear gaps that were most likely scars where the hair wouldn't grow and the sight caused the surge of all too familiar acid in his stomach. Not that it detracted from the flashy man's looks at all, but the thought that he had marred that handsome face was a jab to his heart, not fatal, but bringing with it an ache that could never be overcome and never forgotten, a constant reminder of Steve's failings and his need to try harder and be better.
Tony felt the peculiar sensation of someone watching him, that strange, inexplicable extra sense of being studied, even in this room full of people whose eyes were mostly on him. It was eerie but at the same time warmly familiar. An aura of calm washed over him and suddenly he knew that if he turned around to scan the crowded lecture hall he would find Steve, trying to hide from him, but watching. He nearly lost his train of thought, because even though he could concentrate on multiple things at once, adding this level of surprise or disbelief into the mix seemed to bring everything to a momentary halt. He was able to continue with what he hoped was a barely noticeable pause.
He used this pause to take a deep, cleansing breath before continuing with his discussion of supersymmetry and the belief within the world of physics that proof of this theory would supplant all standard understanding of particle physics[8]. It was a complex and very exciting topic, but he could still go on about it while wondering what Steve could possibly be here for. It was most likely one of a few things, to apologize for the punch and call an end to all but their platonic relationship or maybe he was here in a more official capacity as captain of the team. Either way he knew he would have to face him, get it over with as opposed to running away. It would be one more conversation in his life that amounted to "I'm sorry, but…" and though he had hoped to never have one of those with Steve, it appeared highly likely now.
"For decades physicists have been working on a beautiful theory that has promised to lead to a deeper understanding of the quantum world," Tony began as he glanced around the crowded room, insisting to himself he was just connecting to the crowd and not searching for Steve. It was a pretty sad state of affairs when he couldn't even convince himself though.
"Supersymmetry postulates that every known particle has a hidden superpartner…" He continued, mostly from rote, knowing this material well enough to give this talk in his sleep. His pulse was quickening though and his insides squirming, like his body was misbehaving because it sensed Steve's presence.
Finally the lecture was over, the questions asked and the room was starting to empty. More than a few of the students stopped to talk or beg autographs from Tony, it was a tempting distraction from the upcoming conversation with Steve.
He glanced up to the very back of the room where there was an open doorway crowded by his friends. He knew it wasn't a good idea for Rhodey or Pepper to see Steve right now, but it didn't seem as though any of them had noticed the soldier's presence yet. He gestured for them to go, indicating he would be a while yet due to the small crowd around him. As he saw Pepper smile and turn to go, he let his eyes slide over the remainder of the seated occupants in the room.
Steve was there, slouched in his chair, and looking right at him. He moved to rise, turning to pick up a backpack and Tony thought he'd never looked better. His jeans were dark, snug, and very well cut. His top was a loose, lightweight maroon sweater, just baggy enough to try to hide the glorious muscles beneath, but Tony knew better. He wore a blue Red Sox cap, pulled low on his forehead and the whole effect was so good that Tony felt his jaw literally drop. It was probably the one and only time he would admit to missing the arch wires.
As Steve walked slowly down the steps, eyes never wavering from his, Tony casually dismissed his admirers. After a few moments the two were alone in the room, or maybe it just felt that way, he couldn't be bothered to tear his eyes from Steve long enough to check. It certainly seemed like they were the only two in the world right now, and he knew how clichéd that sounded, but clichés became what they were for the very good reason that they were the most apt descriptions, and this was no different.
He felt his brain shift into overdrive, wanting to talk away the nervousness and he was absolutely powerless to stop it, the condition so ingrained.
"Hey, long time, no see. So, a sudden interest in quantum physics huh? Well, stranger things have happened I guess. Like…" He had no idea what he was actually saying, it just seemed important that he keep talking, fill the awkward, echoing canyons of space with words…words of his choosing because even though he had thought about and prepared for what Steve would have to say to him, it turns out he wasn't quite as ready for it as he'd thought. He could be delusional for a little longer, could cling to the ideal of him and Steve, the perfection that could be…
Steve couldn't think, couldn't bring one thought into focus. The roaring in his own ears was threatening to drown out the sound of Tony's incessant but welcome (because that meant he was nervous too) rambling. Something, his heart most likely, lurched suddenly and seemed to be trying to claw its way up to his throat in a valiant but uncomfortable effort to escape. Maybe the defiant organ's plan was to take matters upon itself, since his brain had messed things up so badly, hurl itself out into the open at Tony's feet and beg for forgiveness, for safer harbor.
Apparently it wasn't the withered, fragile thing Steve assumed it had become.
He tried to swallow over the exodus obstructing his throat, willing his heart to calm itself for a moment, to trust him again—he was trying to make this right.
"I love you, Tony." He said, cutting the engineer off mid ramble. It was too clumsy, too loud and certainly he hadn't aspired to lead with that, but he was so nervous and in very real danger of having his throat close up at last, stick together like it was threatening to do, only allowing him the chance to say one thing. But the words, though so incredibly true, seemed simple and inadequate at the moment.
The urge to look away, focus on something else, something neutral, to avoid seeing the hurt and distrust and other unspeakable things in the eyes that had come to mean everything to him was nearly overtaking him, but face stained and splotchy, spine straight, stomach in nervous knots, he didn't.
Tony's stare was like sparks on his skin, his eyes so bright and glittering and lovely, the intensity of it like a high powered spotlight on his rebellious heart. He could feel his own eyes fill as something changed from one instant to the next. Quite suddenly he was not ashamed, had no desire to turn away and try to hide anything.
Tony was stunned stupid. Spellbound. In his wildest dreams he couldn't have imagined this. Well, actually in his wildest dreams he did imagine something similar but not quite this good—but who the hell expects their wildest dreams to actually come true? Steve's eyes were brimming with something very pure and at the same time vulnerable and it was a lance right to Tony's core.
This is what being loved felt like.
There was so much more to say, he couldn't really leave it as it was now and expect Tony to just accept it. He struggled to swallow and it was an echoing gurgle in the quiet space, he tried again, hoping for more, quieter success before attempting to speak again.
"I am so sorry. I don't deserve your forgiveness—I know that—but I'm willing to beg for it Tony. I love you, and I didn't see it soon enough, for that and for hurting you I will never forgive myself."
He continued to stare at Tony whose wide eyes were accompanied by a slow blink, it could only be surprise, disbelief, and the look was as arresting as he remembered and so startlingly beautiful. Then Tony took a few steps towards him, almost completely closing the gap and lifted his hand to place a fingertip gently on Steve's lips. The touch sent spider like shivers down Steve's spine and he could hardly comprehend the meaning behind the gesture, only knowing that Tony wasn't afraid to be so near him, to touch him.
"I lov—" He had to stop and clear his throat, "I love you too, Steve." It came out strong and steady this time. He hesitated momentarily, but recovered quickly and closed every last inch of space between them as he stretched and brought their lips together.
[6] In extreme scenarios Electronic Silence ('Emissions Control' or EMCON) may also be put into place as a defense against interception.
[7]The Zapruder film is a silent, color motion picture sequence shot by private citizen Abraham Zapruder with a home-movie camera, as U.S. President John F. Kennedy's motorcade passed through Dealey Plaza in Dallas, Texas on November 22, 1963, thereby inadvertently capturing the President's assassination. If you've ever seen footage of this assignation then you've more than likely seen the Zapruder film.
[8] All information and quotes on the subject of Tony's lecture taken from the May 2014 issue of Scientific American.
A/N: Thanks so much again for those continuing to read and encourage, and sorry to those of you that feel Steve didn't deserve this reconciliation. I feel like he's done his penance and does deserve someone who loves him as unconditionally as Tony does.