Chapter Text
Tony knew it was over the moment Steve left Avengers Tower.
He should have known when they started this thing that it would only be temporary – that Captain America was never going to be serious about dating Tony Stark. Tony was only going to screw it up anyway; at least this way, Steve was leaving him over something he had no control over. The pain was there, nestled in behind the arc reactor and just as permanent a part of him now, but at least there was nothing to feel guilty about.
After all, who could blame the super soldier for going back to his first love, who would need him now more than ever?
“Jarvis, contact the movers for me,” Tony said as he watched the Quinjet leave the tower landing pad from his workshop window.
“Certainly, Sir. What will the work order be?” Jarvis asked.
“Move Steve’s stuff back down to his original floor,” Tony told him. “And see if we can’t get some clothes for Sgt. Barnes delivered to the guest room on that floor.”
“Are you sure that’s wise, sir? If successful, Captain Rogers will be back in three days. Wouldn’t it be better to ask him before you arranged a move?”
“Trust me, J, it’ll be easier this way,” Tony said, turning his back to the windows. He didn’t keep alcohol in his lab anymore, and he was sure he didn’t want the company he’d find in the communal lounge, so he got to work instead. Redwing needed an upgrade, and he was going to need to get back into Sam’s good graces after he hid himself away from everyone when Cap got back. Might as well go for two birds.
…
Tony skipped sleep that night, but he all but passed out on his bed the second night without Steve. It was weird, having the whole penthouse to himself again. Even with the closet door and dresser drawers closed, he could feel the void of their emptiness. The empty nightstand on Steve’s side of the bed, bereft of the antique watch stand and alarm clock he kept there, mocked Tony when he turned over to look at it.
He had laughed when Steve had first put up the watch stand with just one watch on its maple arm.
“Shouldn’t it just go in a box when you’re not wearing it? Or better yet, shouldn’t you try a StarkWatch?” Tony had teased him.
Steve gave him a faraway smile. “It was Bucky’s dad’s,” the super soldier told him. “We lived together, and it wound up with my stuff when I shipped out to Europe. Bucky always insisted on keeping both our watches on it, next to the bed.”
“You two shared a bed?” Tony asked.
Steve looked down. “America was just recovering from the Depression. No one had a lot. After my ma passed, I was lucky Buck and I could afford a place on our own, even a one bedroom.”
“Did you ever -?” Tony asked, not sure he was even allowed to ask the question.
Steve blushed and his smile grew brighter, but it was still sad. “It took us a while,” he said. “But yeah. Bucky and I –he was my fella, back then.” He looked up and caught Tony’s eyes. “Sure glad you’re mine now.”
Tony blinked back tears at the memory. They hadn’t known Bucky was alive then. It was insane to even suspect, after Steve had watched him fall down a damn mountain range.
But he was alive. If the reports were right, he had left Hydra and was on his own now. Steve suspected he remembered himself, their history, at least enough to come back with him.
Bucky was going to need Steve, Tony knew. It wasn’t easy, what he’d been through, and he’d need him far more than Tony or any of the other Avengers. It was only right that Tony stepped back now.
…
Tony woke up with a smile on his face. He had been dreaming of him and Steve going to a small, exclusive resort he had always liked on the French Riviera. Steve had been relaxed, happy in a loose way he rarely was in public, and Tony basked in the feeling of his warm smile. The details were hazy, but he remembered the glint of a platinum ring hidden in his pocket, and the buoyant feeling of hope in his heart.
Still half asleep, he reached out to the empty pillow beside him. That was normal; Steve was usually out for a run this time of morning.
Only this time, Tony knew he wasn’t.
Opening his eyes was like a punch to the gut.
The bed was empty, and the nightstand beside it. Steve was gone, off to look for his Bucky, leaving Tony behind.
He closed his eyes and tried to chase the contented feeling from his dream, but it was gone, leaving nothing but that dark chasm of depression behind.
How long, he wondered, before that feeling swallowed him whole?
…
Tony only wound up in his own bed the next night because Thor and Natasha had ganged up to bully him into it, pulling him out of the lab that evening for dinner and team movie night, then following him up to the penthouse.
“Jarvis, my friend!” Thor had intoned. “Please tell me if Tony returns to the lab tonight.”
“No Jarvis, do not do that,” Tony argued. “I do not need anyone to keep tabs on me.”
“I would keep you company, if you are awake,” Thor said, soft and sincere in a way Asguardian princes should probably never be.
“Of course,” JARVIS said. “I shall let you know the moment Sir leaves the penthouse.”
“Thank you, Jarvis,” Thor said. Natasha just smiled smugly.
After that blatant betrayal by his AI, Tony had promised to go to bed - anything to get them out of his room.
He suspected Pepper had called Nat after he had spent two days ignoring her calls, and that he was going to be the subject of another team intervention if he didn’t spend any time out of the lab once Steve got back.
Damn Avengers. Why did he let them live here again?
He toyed with the idea of drinking himself into a stupor just to get some sleep, but decided against it. He hadn’t done that in almost a year, not since he and Steve started dating.
Well. Maybe it was time to start again.
But Steve would probably be back tomorrow, and he would probably hunt Tony down at some point. Better to avoid the hangover.
Instead he laid there, staring up at the ceiling, certain he wouldn’t sleep until morning, and hoping he wouldn’t dream.
…
Tony did manage to sleep again, this time drifting in and out of a dream about him and Steve fighting something. The villain was vague, mercurial as dreams tend to be, but the feel of Steve and his Shield next to him had the weight of certainty and familiarity to it. He sunk into it, half-clinging to the feeling even as quiet shuffling in the penthouse pulled him back to consciousness. He knew that gait - knew there was nothing to worry about, no reason to wake up just yet.
He couldn’t hold on any longer when he felt a dip in the bed. He blinked open tired eyes and looked up at Steve, somewhere between pleased and confused. Steve was shirtless - that was nice - but had dark circles under his eyes, and looked annoyed in the pale light of the arc reactor. Tony didn’t like it when Steve was annoyed; it was too often his fault.
“Where are my pajamas, Tony?” Steve asked, voice frosty.
“Downstairs. In your room,” Tony answered blearily. Was this a dream? Why was Steve angry with him in a dream? “What’re you doing here?”
“I thought I lived here,” Steve answered, and yeah, Tony really hated that edge to his voice.
“I set you and Bucky up on your old floor,” Tony told him. And did they really have to do this now? “Thought you’d be more comfortable there.”
Tony could see it on Steve’s face the moment he understood. He looked sad, uncomfortable. Tony braced himself for the super soldier to try and let him down gently, even though Tony had already taken care of that for him.
“I let Bucky have a guest room up here, close enough for me to watch his back. We have enough space,” Steve told him. Tony blinked, thinking he must still be a bit asleep and not hearing things correctly.
Steve sighed. “I’m not gonna leave you for Bucky, Tony,” he said at last, letting Brooklyn slip into his voice. “Bucky and I, we go way back, and I can’t say I don’t love him, but I love you, too. I love you so much. I didn’t - I thought you knew you were my fella.”
“You’re not - with Bucky now?” Tony asked, eyebrows crinkling in confusion. “Doesn’t he need you?”
Steve smiled at him, soft and fond. “Course he needs me. But I need you. I can be there for my best friend and still have my best fella, can’t I?” His face fell, then, and Tony could never stand to be on the receiving end of that sad, lost look in his eyes. “Unless you want me to go? Is this your way of -”
“No,” Tony bit out, something like panic rising up inside him. “No, of course I’m not - of course I want you here. How could you think -”
“How could you?” Steve interrupted, meeting Tony’s eyes. He reached up and put a hand on Tony’s face, cupping his cheek. “How could you possibly think I’d let you go? That this would be how I’d do it?”
Tony looked down, staring at Steve’s perfect abs because he couldn’t look him in the eye. “I - I’m not very good at this sometimes,” Tony admitted. “I thought -”
“You thought wrong, Sweetheart,” Steve said, sounding sincere and just a little sad. “There’s nothing in this world that would make me leave you, especially like that.” He pulled away, moving off the bed. “I don’t think you have anything in my size to borrow, so I’m just gonna go downstairs and grab a few things. I’ll be back, I promise.”
And that was absolutely not acceptable. If Steve was really going to stay, Tony wasn’t about to let him leave the room now. He sighed, hoping he’d live down the next few words. “Top drawer,” he said, nodding to his own dresser. “I might have kept a few things. Knew I shouldn’t, not if you - well. I couldn’t help myself.”
Steve shook his head, giving Tony that fond smile again. “I love you,” he said simply, going over to the drawer and pulling out a well-worn army t-shirt and sleep pants. He changed quickly as Tony watched, then quietly returned to the bed.
“Come here,” Steve said, slipping under the covers and pulling Tony into his arms. Tony let the Captain manhandle him until he was lying on his side, face pressed against Steve’s chest and wrapped up in his arms. “I missed you.”
“Missed you, too,” Tony said, breathing in the warm scent of him. “I thought -”
“I know what you thought,” Steve interrupted, shushing him. “I’m here now. Not going anywhere. I promise. Like I said, I love you.”
“Love you, too,” Tony replied. He smiled and pressed himself closer into Steve. “Did he remember?”
“He remembers enough,” Steve told him. “He remembers me.”
“That’s good,” Tony said sleepily. That meant there was hope for him.
“Get some sleep, Tony,” Steve said, half-asleep already from the sound of it. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Tony closed his eyes, trusting that Steve would.