Chapter Text
He’s sitting at his desk thinking about skipping out early when he gets the email. He has to read it more than once because it doesn’t make sense. How could his yearly medical request get rejected? Had he filed late or something? He clicks lightning fast into the healthcare portal all end of day sluggishness gone and finds more details. There was his form that he submitted and then there was an addendum, a request to his bonded alpha to also submit a form. Why did they need his alpha to fill out a form.
When had Tony…? And then there was the problem. Tony hadn’t given authorization. Where James checked ‘yes,’ Tony checked ‘no.’ He stares at the digital form for a long moment. Mind racing, he thinks—Had Tony even read it before he said no? There was every bit of a chance that Jarvis had been the one to sign it and not even Tony. But surely if he had a question about a medical form with his name on it he would ask first? Pepper couldn’t have been the one to sign it either, she would have told him if a form like this crossed her desk.
The more he thinks the more confused he gets. Then he gets out his phone and calls Tony, it rings for a while then goes to voicemail. He doesn’t bother, belatedly checking the time. Yeah he was definitely not getting the alpha on the phone right now, maybe he could call Jarvis and have the AI pass on a message but—this sort of conversation was better had in person. After some thought he refocuses on his computer and starts the form again. He doesn’t submit it however, saving the draft till after he’s spoken to his alpha. He’s sure it’s just a misunderstanding; Tony wouldn’t do something like this knowingly.
It’s still weird to think of Tony as ‘his alpha.’ They’ve only been bonded for 2 months, and a portion of that James spent across the country from Tony’s home base, Malibu. He’s not a fan of his current station in D.C. but he hadn’t really had a choice following the stunts he pulled in Afghanistan. He had to call in so many favors and disobey his superiors in order to find Tony. In the end they hadn’t even been the ones to rescue him. His alpha rescued himself. Sure if James hadn’t been looking Tony might have still died from being in the literal middle of nowhere and exposed to the elements but still. Tony got out and he got out using a suit James is still trying to wrap his head around.
Tony makes it sound easy, he makes it look easy but James looked over some of the schematics of the thing and it’s so beyond him. How his alpha was able to make it work and create the prototype while literally being held hostage—he inhales through his nose and forces the distress connected to the memory of those terrible 3 months down. It was okay now, they were ok. He gives up on work and starts packing up. His office is in the far corner of the floor, not too small and away from the usual foot traffic. As he walks towards the elevator he nods to some coworkers but doesn’t attempt conversation. He didn’t mind the people he worked with but he can’t help but pick up some weird undercurrents. Odd glances, weird questions and insinuations about his competence and knowledge he hasn’t gotten in years.
There was a good mix of civilian and military personnel so the atmosphere was more informal and relaxed but somehow he couldn’t just meld into the mix. Being black, being an omega and finally being connected with Tony Stark fucks it all up. At least before he could say (if it ever came up and it always did) he and Tony were ‘just friends’ (even if people didn’t believe him.) Now it’s common knowledge they’re bonded—he has a strong suspicion that it had been someone in HR that leaked the two of them being bonded because James certainly hadn’t told anyone or broadcast it. Tony would have liked to sure but James hadn’t wanted anything flashy or public. Their bonding ceremony was private, attended only by a few trusted friends.
Following that they got maybe 3 weeks of bliss, 1 of which was spent at two different honeymoon locations—before the press got a hold of it. He missed the brunt of it having to go back to D.C and at work in places the press knew better to sniff around but Tony… ugh. Tony got the public’s laser focus and sure he took it like a champ. Cracked jokes, ignored the haters and turned some of the honestly nasty stuff back tenfold with lawsuits for everyone involved but it definitely wasn’t a walk in the park and on the weekends James comes back to Malibu he can see the anger in Tony’s eyes when he talks about some of the stuff that’s been happening during the week.
So… his work situation already not ideal isn’t exactly comfortable. But it couldn’t be like this forever, especially if he takes the special exception he’s due for in a few months and just retires. He doesn’t know what he would do if he wasn’t in the air force but he has time to figure it out. He’s definitely given enough of his life to service. Something Tony has told him many times. Once he’s out of the building he starts to feel a little better. He already had his weekend bag packed and his flight was due in less than 2 hours. Soon he would be back in Malibu, in warm weather and with his alpha.
Everything else could wait.
In the basement of the Stark residence, a polite voice cuts through blaring rock music. “Sir, you’ve received an email that requires your immediate attention.”
“I’m using Do Not Disturb protocols for a reason, J.A.R.V.I.S.,” Tony answers, not looking up from the car engine he was working on. (His newest baby, a Ferrari F50 he won at an auction that he’ll have purring like a newborn kitten and roaring through New York like a runaway lion.)
“Miss Potts placed an emergency bypass with the email set to the highest priority.”
“Uh huh, sure, she did the same thing with the charity gala invitation I’ve been actively ignoring,” Tony mutters, focused on soldering a ball valve.
“It is from Mr. Rhodes’s healthcare provider.”
If the resident A.I. wanted Tony’s attention, he got it. Tony cuts his torch off and slides his goggles to his forehead.
“Is he hurt?” He asks, rolling his chair away from the car to his desk, cluttered with car parts and tools. The music turns off as the A.I. continues.
“No sir, I read his vitals are normal, physically and mentally.” Tony let out a quick sigh as his monitor switches from car schematics to an email. “It appears the company is requesting that you review Mr. Rhodes’s annual suppressant renewal form, and acknowledge on his behalf.”
Tony hums as he reads the email body; a statement saying that due to Rhodey's insurance documentation being adjusted to reflect his status as a bonded Omega, his Alpha was now his power of attorney as governed by law. And as said Alpha, Tony is to look over the request, provide any additional information as he sees fit, and then give them the clearance to continue.
Sucking in a breath as something simmers in his loins, he clicks the provided link that directs him to the healthcare portal and to a simple profile that shows Rhodey's full name, birth info, contact info; basic stuff. He sees two notifications in the Applications tab and clicks on it. It brings up the form in progress concerning the injection Rhodey is renewing, Varm-O-Subprema (aka VOS for short). Tony can see the price, quantity, and staff sections reserved for his first appointment date and follow-ups. Underneath the imaged form is a checkbox to confirm that he's read through the document.
Clicking back to the view the second notification brings up an addendum. The first page is a generic terms and agreement statement asking Tony to digitally pinky-swear that he read through the application and will keep his omega’s information confidential. The second page is left blank for him type in anything of importance, and finally a signature line and two checkboxes, one to confirm that they could move forward with Rhodey's arrangement, the other to decline.
Tony’s fingers slowly rap on the desk, brow furrowed in thought. If Pepper were to walk in she would think he’s deeply contemplating, making some difficult decision.
But that wasn’t it at all.
It was simple. He already knew his response. He’s known it since he signed the general power of attorney forms included in the paperwork that made their bonding official in the eyes of the law and waited for this exact document to come his way.
Well then, if it wasn’t a matter of accepting or denying Rhodey's request, what could possibly be on the Stark brainiac’s mind?
The image of Rhodey receiving the document back, making him aware of his Alpha’s decision and his reaction upon returning home. Certainly it was a simple mistake on Tony’s part. After all he doesn’t exactly have the best reputation for reading everything that comes his way word for word.
It was just a mistake, wasn’t it, Tony? You probably had J.A.R.V.I.S. fill it out for you and he checked the wrong box, or you were occupied with something else and just wasn’t paying attention. Right?
And then as the realization hit him, that no, there was no robotic or human error, that Tony deliberately (soberly even!) denied him his clockwork suppressants… Then would come the narrow eyes and tight lips and the shaking head because Why? Why the hell would you do that Tony? You know I need that for my job! And dammit, I’m a grown ass man, and I’ve been taking care of myself just fine! I got this far without your help!
Why for your own good for starters, Rhodey.
How? How is being susceptible to heats in an Alpha-dominant career for my own good?
Hm, how indeed… Tony picks up a pen and begins to absently spin it around in his hand.
The main reason had been sitting on the back burner for a long time now, and was something neither of them brought up very often… if he’s being honest, he can’t think of the last time they’ve talked about it, in passing or as a serious topic of discussion. But since he’s lost his own parents, and nearly lost his own life in such a short span of time, he’s realized that, as romantically aloft as it sounds, time, life, truly is short.
He could’ve been gone any one of those hellish days in the desert, under the watchful, power-hungry eyes of those terrorists, or under the blazing sun, leaving behind a trail footsteps that were only engulfed by the swirling sand seconds later. Christ, if Rhodey's team hadn’t found him…
He hears a crack, looks down at his hand, sees that it pressed the tip down so hard he’s broken it, and black slowly runs out the pen and over the desk. He sighs and tosses the pen to the side and uses a spare blank piece of paper to cover the stain. Leave the past in the past, it was time to do as Howard so often did, focus on tomorrow.
Which brings him back to his point of… of having a child. Perhaps it was partly feeling like he bears the weight of his own father; to have an heir to this technological monopoly. Someone to keep the progressive legacy alive should he be gone tomorrow…
No. It wasn’t about whether or not he was here one moment and then gone the next… His fingers once again rap against the top of the desk.
It was Rhodey.
As rambunctious of a lifestyle Tony has led, he’s always been very critical of who would hold the role as his mate. And without the shadow of a doubt, he knew it would be James Rhodes, since they were college roommates. He had the tenacity, the intellect, and simple-minded loyalty Tony required in a potential mate. If Tony lost him, three decades of cajoling and building trust would be lost. And with Rhodey's job, that was always a constant issue for Tony, though he kept this to himself more and more, since the Omega has proven to be capable of looking out for himself in the field and got tired of his off-hand comments about leaving for a safer career.
But a child… Rhodey would be dedicated to a new position, a safer role. To be a parent, a nurturing motherly role, more specifically. Tony liked the visual. Housebound Rhodey, safe and secure. At his side, his beck and call. No more dangerous missions, long stressful hours at the office when he wasn’t going out into the field, serving his country instead of…Tony.
But that line of reasoning wouldn’t interest Rhodey. Not in the slightest. He’s been very comfortable with that the fact they’ve virtually never brought up having a child. Hasn’t shown any intention or desire to raise a kid. (Hm, could the long-history of injections play a part in that?) Tony will have to take another angle to convince him, to show him that his Alpha knows what’s best for him.
“J.A.R.V.I.S.,” Tony says to the empty space. “Think we could run a test for probable long-term effects of Rhodey's suppressants?”
“I believe so, sir.”
Tony gets out his chair and moves to a nearby table where a hologram manifests. J.A.R.V.I.S. generates diagnostics of Rhodey's live biological feed in the form of altering charts and bars showing his heart rate, blood pressure, calories burned, distance traveled… not to brag but the list does indeed go on. (Tony could put the healthcare industry on its ass with this little BCI, if he wanted to… Hmm, that actually might be a sensible company change for Stark Industries.)
He reads the numbers J.A.R.V.I.S. pulls up . Looks like Rhodey's metabolism levels are average, stress a little on the high side...
“Initiate TMS Level One,” Tony quips.
Another window appears, similar to the heart monitor, but instead of measuring BPM it recorded the imperceptible electro-currents stimulating Rhodey's brain. He hadn’t experimented with the feature much, and wasn’t completely certain if it had any real effect on Rhodey when he activated it, since medical study trials showed improvement over weeks of use, but if his research was correct (yes, that possible 2% chance he was wrong did indeed exist), his customized code will manage to create a mild mood boost.
“Hang in there, sweetheart,” Tony says to himself, then aloud for J.A.R.V.I.S. to hear: “Pull up the prescribing info for VOS.”
A loading icon pops up, then a window, showing ‘Dosage and Administration’, ‘Contradictions’, and other fun things FDA wanted the public to be aware of, mostly warnings of shit that could go wrong. (Some of which he adds to his “for-sake-of-argument” reservoir should Rhodey advocate for how safe the drug is.)
“Now, just for a point of reference,” Tony says, “bring up the same information for something average. Y’know, drugstore BTC stuff, like Subpremi.”
When the information is generated, he highlights the ‘Dosage Forms and Strengths’ section of both drugs’ labels and whistles at the comparison.
“Man, this stuff Rhodey is on is the absinthe of suppressants, isn’t it?”
“Actually sir, there are stronger options available that can remain potent for as long as three years,” J.A.R.V.I.S. clarifies. “However, those are protected by the Repression Prevention Act, and are reserved in specialized medical centers for the most extreme cases which must be preceded with a position statement presented to the medical board.”
“Gee, wow, yeah, thanks for that bit of trivia, J.A.R.V.I.S.,” Tony says distractedly as he organizes the drug info and Rhodey's vitals to his liking, then once he’s satisfied, commands: “Now, create some hypotheticals of what could happen to Rhodey's biology within another year of his current VOS dosage.”
The stats change. Numbers and graphs fluctuate. He watches as one window creates a diagram that averages Rhodey's decade’s worth of recorded vitals against the possible effects of the high dosage of hormones over time.
It takes a little over five minutes for J.A.R.V.I.S. to reach the most likely possibilities. The results reveal Rhodey's fecundity to decrease and his risk of blood clots and heart attacks increase.
Tony scratches his chin. “Alright, now add a prognosis for the next five years, same dosage.”
Three minutes pass. Recycling the same scenarios of energy levels and health conditions, the previous stat results expound, and other risks come up as well. Higher cholesterol, risk of ovarian cancer, and reduction of libido, which would have its own problems like ED and its cycle of conflicts…
And there it is, ladies and gents. Logical explanations for why James Rhodes should get off the suppressants. Though the statistics were rather marginal, and wouldn’t really warrant genuine health concerns, Tony could always just mess around with the numbers himself. Say prolonged use of the injections lead to a hefty 25% increased risk of cancer instead of 10.5%, for example. And look very serious and troubled as he says it, like when he convinced Rhodey to let him implant the chip in his brain for his safety and Tony’s peace of mind.
Easy-peasy.
Tony hums noncommittally. “Alright J, reset the hypotheticals, and change the contraceptive dosage to 0%. Time frame, one year.”
As the stats change again, Tony feels the same simmering in his lower body that first appeared when he got the insurance company’s email. Something akin to excitement.
The new results show that due to Rhodey's body being well accustomed to VOS’s high dosage, there were little to no dramatic changes in the rate of his heat and fertility for a little under two months. Afterwards, once the last traces of the contraceptive were released from his body, it would still take some time for his fertility and ability to ovulate to return and stabilize, but in the meantime his body would prepare for this through a series of different heats…
As the old saying goes, it gets worse before it gets better.
Within three months, symptoms of a dry heat will appear as Rhodey's libido increases and his body releases the remnants of the injection’s hormones. The omega would be a hazy, cramping, distressed mess for a few days, or a week at most, and would need plenty of food, water, and physical contact… Tony already knows that even in such a sad state Rhodey would try to make it clear he didn’t care for being treated like a baby, but his poor little buttercup would have to suck it up, wouldn’t he?
Next would be a warm heat. A much more gentle and forgiving period as Rhodey's body recovered and prepared for being able to reproduce again. If Rhodey didn’t care about being treated like a baby before, he’d find himself acting like one, whether he wanted to or not… Some of the symptoms would be very similar to his dry spell: drowsiness, chills and sweating, as well as a desire to nest and cuddle that overshadows the need to eat and drink. (Tony makes a mental note to pull out the softest cushions and blankets in preparation… And a few pieces of clothes he don’t mind sharing.)
And then, the final stage, the big finale. A full blown sexual heat.
In his much more reckless and wild salad days, back when he had a reputation of “screwing anything with a pulse“ he wasn’t unaccustomed to bedding with omegas in heat. In fact, one rumor that spread as far and wide as the gossip mags could take it was that he was a regular enjoyer of “Omex’s”; sex rings that rented Omegas juiced up on hormone injections that kept them wet, wanton and docile, just the way any well-paying Alpha would like ‘em. A common trafficking practice, that’s been increasingly taken up by more desperate sex-workers.
Of course there was nothing a little under-the-table cash and televised humanitarianism couldn’t clear up. (Even with his father’s, and for a long time his own, legacy of dealing in warfare and indirect racketeering.) And there's no way any reporter can get any reputed participants to admit to associating with such circles, so as far as the public knew, Tony was a naughty playboy who had sensible standards, thank you very much.
But those nights, tucked in the dark crevices of his memories, rear their heads as he ponders what awaits him and his Omega in the months to come.
He has witnessed Rhodey go through soft pre-heats in college, and remembers times he was unable to reach the older man due to his self-isolation, letting his natural heat ride between his suppressant cycles. Remembers the gentle scent that he emitted, sweet and light, a candied musk that reminded Tony of a light dusting of brown sugar.
But he always wondered what Rhodey did behind closed doors. Was he like those whores? leaking slick, as if a river ran down their thighs, waiting for any alpha to snatch them up and fill their hopelessly loose cunts? Did he have hidden toys that made him bite and scream and cry into a pillow? wishing against all sane and sober hopes that an alpha would find him and lay claim to him at his most vulnerable? Had he ever desired another but Tony?
A flare of anger washes over him at the thought when he hears, “Sir?”
Tony blinks, pulling himself out of his thoughts while J.A.RV.I.S. continues, “Would you like to advise the company to lower Mr. Rhodes’s prescription dosage?”
“That won’t be necessary, J,” he replies. He refreshes the page and allows the portal to log him back into the application and addendum pages. He checks the boxes, types in his response and adds his digital signature before hitting Submit.
He gives a curt nod. That’s that. No going back now.
The previous thought is still on his mind as he goes back to work on his Ferrari, adding more pressure to his tools than necessary and tossing them on the ground when he was finished with them. He knows it’s ridiculous to be so irritated at the thought that at one point, Rhodey may have wanted another before he came along, but, it’s under his skin all the same…
And then it comes to him… That’s what everything that happened tonight came down to, wasn’t it?
This impending heat, this child, was just the final white-hot brand, to remind him and show the world that James Rhodes was Tony Stark’s Omega.
Oh yes, he’ll continue to put on a front for Rhodey, as many times as it takes. Always tell him that Tony wants what’s best for him, for them. That everything that’s led up to their bonding, has been for their betterment, as partners, as lovers, as a unit. And he’ll continue to do so until Rhodey naturally falls into his arms without a second thought, until he doesn’t know where his own choices start and where the strings Tony has strung so meticulously end. Until Tony has him, owns him, in every conceivable variant of the word…
That puts Tony in a much better mood, and he’s almost surprised to find himself nodding and singing along to the music that’s ramped back up in the background.
After a few long rewarding hours, he takes a towel and wipes his oily hands, satisfyingly tired and ready to wrap up his productive night, when a buzz comes from his work desk.
His cellphone. ‘Rhodey’ blinks on the screen. A corner of his lips twitch before he starts cleaning his workshop, letting it ring and ring and ring until it finally falls silent.
“I’m gonna get an earful when he comes back,” Tony mutters stuffing his phone in his pocket then asks his A.I., “Hey, J.A.R.V.I.S., where is Rhodey right now?”
“Currently at his D.C. office, sir.”
“And when is he expected back?”
“His flight is due in one hour, forty-three minutes and twenty-two seconds. Flight travel is an estimated five hours. Current ETA, 10:13 AM.”
That makes Tony pause and look at the clock on his cell. Shit, he really did pull an all-nighter.
“Right. Send Pepper a memo, bright and early, six sharp. I need a fruit basket and a bottle of imported sake ready in the fridge, and the sappiest Hallmark card she can find.”
“I suppose you’d like her to sign it for you?” J.A.R.V.I.S. asks in the closest semblance to sarcasm the A.I. could manage.
“Tempting,” Tony says, standing at the workshop entrance. “But I think I can take time out of my busy schedule to sign a card for my platypus.”
He smiles to himself as the workshop lights turn off and heads for his bedroom.
the Omex inspo: https://abound.neocities.org/heatrut.html under Spontaneous Heats
other notes Repression Prevention Act - idk really, ah, randomly tossed in the thought that due to past drug / suppressant abuse cases there's been a government ordained push for healthcare facilities, law enforcement and citizens to keep a lookout for individuals, mainly Omegas, that attempt to hide their gender and present as Beta without medical assistance / permission with strong suppressants
BCI - Brain Controlled Implant
TMS - Transcranial magnetic stimulation – a noninvasive procedure that uses magnetic fields to stimulate nerve cells in the brain to improve symptoms of depression [used creative liberties obv]
He arrives past midnight feeling exhausted. He’s never been able to sleep on flights, a hardwiring maybe from being a pilot. His usual car is waiting, and the driver doesn’t talk to him according to his preference. He starts to nod off in the car and so he doesn’t notice when they arrive at the house till the door is sliding open. The driver has already grabbed his luggage from the trunk and so James follows him silently to the door.
Inside, Jarvis lights the way as he toes off his shoes and hefts his carryon up the stairs. Surprisingly Tony has already gone to bed, or more accurately the A.I. reports the alpha is in the bedroom. For some reason that makes him feel better. They’ve talked before about Tony maintaining a more regular sleep schedule and not working late every night, but the reality is still mostly the same. It’s nice to not have to drag Tony out from the basement, especially tonight when they have something important to discuss. He realizes a little guilty he had been expecting Tony to avoid the conversation, that or be too busy to have it. He could admit in the safety of his mind that maybe sometimes he discredited his alpha unnecessarily.
The bedroom light is off and Tony is sleeping when he steps inside the room. For a while he just stares. Of all the nights for Tony to remember sleep wasn't optional. But it was probably for the best. He didn't want to be having serious conversation (they hadn't really talked about the future, heats and kids have they?) it was 2 in the morning and he was tired. They could talk in the morning.
Being home and in their bedroom gives him one last burst of energy and so he heads to the master bathroom instead of just stripping and getting in bed. The shower feels like heaven and he has to fight not to just fall asleep in there. (That's happened before, Jarvis had to wake him up) When he finally slides into bed, sleep pants on and chest bare--he falls asleep in minutes.
Surviving a life-or-death scenario left Tony a much lighter sleeper than before. So he stirs when he hears activity coming from the bathroom. A quick sniff tells him Rhodey has returned, and from the sounds of it, is taking a shower. The imminent conversation hangs over him, like water drops from a leaky roof splashing on him by the second.
Hm, well, he was really comfortable. (Much better than falling asleep at his work table.) And knowing Rhodey, he probably wants Tony to be awake right now so they could get this talk over with. But Tony also knows Rhodey needs his rest.
It can wait.
When Rhodey walks back into the bedroom, smelling of his crisp pear body wash and slips under the covers, Tony moves closer and drapes an arm over him and easily goes back to sleep.
The room is still quite dark when he naturally wakes up again. Rolling over and checking his bedside table clock tells him it’s late morning. His room would be flooded with light right now if his blackout shades weren’t on.
Sighing, he gives his body a quick stretch and places his hands behind his head, staring up at the dark ceiling.
As his brain starts up he wonders how he should start his day. Let’s see, there was always checking his agenda and skimming over whatever backed up messages Pepper had lined up for him over a cup of coffee like a responsible CEO.
But when has he ever done that?
A soft snort brings his attention to Rhodey, and an all too familiar idea comes Tony. He thinks Rhodey deserves a proper ‘welcome home’ gift. (And sure, he also thinks he’s entitled to a little fun before he has to eventually handle a little pissy Omega.)
Tony sits up, pulls the covers off of him and then fiddles with the bedside control panel, adjusting the blackout shades’ tint so just enough sunlight comes in that he can make out Rhodey’s face without disturbing his sleep. Light isn’t necessary, he knows this body like the back of his hand, but, he likes how peaceful Rhodey looks while he unconsciously takes Tony’s cock. Like his body was programmed to be open and allowing for him at all times.
He’s a pervert. Sue him.
Once the room is lit to his liking, he gently takes Rhodey’s shoulder and turns him on his back and pulls the cover off his form. There’s no mattress sagging or creaking as Tony positions himself over the other man’s legs. He traces a finger down Rhodey rising and falling chest, down to his sleep pants waistband and carefully peels his them down his thighs, legs, down to his ankles, revealing… huh, the “Remove Before Flight” boxer briefs Tony bought him as a gag gift.
How ironic.
Rhodey snorts when Tony’s fingers slide under the waistband of his underwear, but nothing more. Keeps sleeping like the dead as Tony lifts his hips and pulls his briefs under his knees. It’s easy work after that… Well, it really would be if Tony had bothered to dig the tube of lube out of the nightstand. Tsk, but now it’s so far away.
Oh well, spit it is.
Bringing Rhodey’s legs together, he hoists them up and pushes them down to his chest. Tony lets a string of saliva fall on Rhodey’s lips before pushing his fingers inside the damp warmth. Enjoys how ignorant Rhodey is of his movements, softly snoring away while his body adapts, and responds to Tony’s fingers scissoring and curling inside by producing its own lubricant.
Once he feels his prep is adequate, Tony spreads Rhodey’s legs open, placing one on either side of him before pulling his own sleeping pants down. Then licking a quick wet stripe up one of his palms, Tony begins stroking himself, his other hand absently rubbing the inside of Rhodey’s thigh.
He feels blood run south as he thinks about how soon, this will be a regular occurrence for them. soon, he'll be fucking a limp, vulnerable Rhodey who's reliant on Tony—needs Tony—while his body changes, preparing for a new life—in more ways than one.
And as Tony lines himself up and slowly pushes inside, he lets out a low growl as Rhodey’s pussy engulfs him, submitting as he forces himself deeper with each slow, shallow thrust. He knows if he had taken the lube he could probably finish to completion without Rhodey stirring, but the occasional resistance he feels will wake the Omega sooner than he’d like.
But he takes his time, eventually lifting one of Rhodey’s legs on his shoulder and pushing in until he’s balls deep then dragging back out, relishing the increasingly wet tightness around his cock. He’s gaining more momentum, starting to snap his hips back rather than slowly sliding out, making Rhodey's body sway with his movements.
Tony’s not sure how much time has passed when he hears grumbles beneath him. His shut eyes open as he moves his focus from the rough heat around his dick to Rhodey’s face.
“Mmph…” Rhodey’s forehead creases, and his head turns side to side as Tony fucks a few more soft grunts out of him.
“Morning, Sleeping Beauty.” Tony says, pressing a kiss to Rhodey’s leg, still draped over his shoulder.
He doesn’t want to wake up, he tries repeatedly to ignore whatever sensation was trying to drag him to full awareness and for awhile he succeeds. Held in a warm subconscious state of lucid dreaming, something involving a lot of motion. Then he’s forced awake by a press that sends his heart racing and his body lurching instinctively away from the intrusion. He doesn’t get far and he opens his eyes to Tony leaning above him and his body spread wide.
The position isn’t uncomfortable and despite the alpha being inside him, his body just feels… warm. It didn’t feel bad or wrong to have Tony inside him, depending on how horny he was he craved it. But that wasn’t what woke him up. What woke him up was—he hisses low in his throat, not quite a whimper—Tony was thrusting way too deep. Something about the angle or how he started, James isn’t sure but every time the alpha bottomed out the tip of his cock pressed right up to a space it shouldn’t. Not quite breaching but pressing and the omega instinctively didn’t want him to go any deeper.
The only other time he’s ever felt this was when the alpha knotted him. “…Morning—” He says after trying to shift his hips down a little so the alpha’s thrust didn’t hook up into him. Shifting his hips doesn’t work, Tony is still pressing too hard and too deep. He wasn’t even thrusting hard, his motions were almost lazy. So why did it feel like this?
“Ease up a little—” He gives up on trying to be coy and firmly asks the alpha to be gentler.
Something deep and primal flares at the Omega's resistance, as if offended by the attempt to interrupt his impending orgasm. It wants to snap back at the Omega, but Tony just sucks air through his nose and slowly breathes out.
"Would if I could, darling." His eyes shut again as the intense heat in his abdomen rises.
If Rhodey had woken up sooner, Tony might've given him some leeway, honest. Then Tony would have had a better chance to summon the strength to slow down, go back to the original pace he had when he first started fucking Rhodey. But when one's lost in primitive pleasure, there's not much he can do but ride it out. And the delicious tightness of Rhodey's cervix gripping him has Tony's alpha instincts going crazy. (Gives him enjoyment similar to the time he managed to coax and prod his knot inside Rhodey, and his poor inner omega did everything in its power to relax, to open, and then finally squeeze his knot as if life depended on it...) And washes a high through him that's prompting him to move faster, fuck a little deeper...
There's a small knowing in the back of his mind that this isn't exactly a smooth segway into the talk they're going to have, but...
His omega just needs to hush. It'll be over soon.
He’s expecting the alpha to slow down, to pull out a little, ease up. As he asked. But he doesn’t. Tony’s voice is practically a growl, and it sets the omega on edge because the feeling and sensation of being pressed past his limit just gets worse. Before it had felt uncomfortable but not painful, presumably it felt even better when he was still asleep. The alpha hadn’t been rough then.
“Tony, it hurts. Come on,” He stops short of saying the word ‘stop’ when he feels how tight the alpha’s grip is on his thigh and sees his eyes are closed. Normally Tony kept pretty good control of himself and the alpha urges. James has only recently started to see a more ‘primal’ or alpha side of him. He doesn’t really like it. It was hard to talk him down when he got going—like now, everything he said, anything he did that wasn’t in line with what his alpha wanted would be seen as a challenge and he really didn’t want to rile the alpha up anymore.
Tony had to be close; this couldn’t last long. He could hold on a little longer he tells himself. So he tries—and immediately gives up when the dangerous press turns into an even more uncomfortable… breach? He can’t quite describe the feeling apart from, ‘wrong’ and it doesn’t lessen. Even when Tony pulls out, the tip caresses the small opening, never quite separating and so every fucking thrust he presses in, unerringly, painfully deep.
Whatever words the omega might have said get stuck in his throat, replaced by low moans that quickly rise in pitch with every second that passes, and Tony doesn’t come. A terrible thought flashes through his mind and his pussy clenches in reflex—what if Tony knotted? He couldn’t stand it the first time, and he definitely couldn’t take it now. For the first time he considers actually pulling away. Tony wasn’t restraining him that hard, the pain did way more to force him to be still than his position.
Naturally that’s when the alpha opens his eyes and their gazes meet. It’s like Tony reads his mind, reads his impulse and any thought of pulling away immediately disappears. Supplanted by deep primordial fear that told him to stay right where his alpha put him.
Tears well up and his vision turns blurry at the thought of his alpha being angry, the thought of Tony knotting him—he skipped past anxiety to outright distress. That was one thing he just couldn’t do, and the alpha knew it. Or at least he did when he wasn’t baring down on the omega like this, teeth bared and his whole weight pressing down.
Through the haze of pleasure Tony knows he has to reign his alpha back, and quick. As exciting as the idea of knotting Rhodey again is, Tony knows he needs to wait. he has a plan in mind, and he is going to keep to the schedule, his alpha’s lust be damned (for now). so he breathes, hisses through his teeth, feeling his forehead and temple dampening from the struggle between the heat of primal desire to claim his omega again, and his more human sensibilities to simply chase his orgasm to completion.
he blinks a few times, forcing himself to keep his eyes open and resist falling back into the seductive primeval rhythm. then his gaze meets Rhodey’s, and he feels a sense of clarity as his alpha ‘s attention steals away to the shine in Rhodey's eyes. how they're wet with fearful understanding, and how his body follows, softening all the more for Tony. and the smell… the smell that rose from him, like bitter, burnt sugar.
tony releases an appreciative growl. wasn’t his omega being so good? He understands so quickly, so well.
He deserves a reward, doesn’t he?
Tony feels a sense of concert with the thought, and moving a hand to Rhodey's throat, leans down and claims the older man’s lips, filling his mouth with groans and leaving his lips red and swollen from light bites. As the Omega continues to whine and cry out in such pretty high notes that make his alpha sing, Tony feels his head throb almost as hard as his balls as he finally, finally comes. As he feels himself emptying into Rhodey, head tucked into his omega’s neck where he nips and bites, he feels more and more like himself again, the alpha seemingly appeased with Rhodey's obedience and dismissing its appetite to knot him.
The relief that floods his system when Tony finally comes is only rivaled by the mess the alpha is making of his insides. He hadn’t known for sure what it would be when Tony opened his eyes, just knew which he didn’t want. More distant there’s an awareness that this is probably something they should discuss. He didn’t like being afraid of his alpha. Last time Tony promised he wouldn’t knot again—at least not outside of heat but it felt very very close just now and he hates that. He doesn’t like not trusting his alpha’s word.
The omega unconsciously purrs when the alpha is done coming, one biological imperative fulfilled. Even if he couldn’t get pregnant, his body didn’t know that. He welcomes the rush of serotonin and happy hormones, further encouraging him to maintain intimacy with the alpha. Smoothening out his previous fear and panic into something more relaxed. He waits a little impatiently for the alpha to pull out and allow him to get up and clean. The feeling of semen swimming inside him isn’t exactly pleasant, primitive satisfaction aside.
A tinge of embarrassment hits him in the moment. He doesn’t know what to say, it’s not how things usually go, this was—nastier. He didn’t feel self conscious as much as vulnerable and he hated this sort of vulnerability, as if he made the wrong choice or did something ill advised.
“J.A.R.V.I.S What time is it?” He asks after a bit. When the AI answers he relaxes a little more. It was still early, they had time.
If possible he’d like to clear up yesterday’s misunderstanding ASAP so he could resubmit his form by Monday. And he’s almost certain now it had to be a misunderstanding.
Note to self, double the rut suppressant dosage, Tony thinks as he comes down from his high with shuddering breaths.
He moves his weight onto his forearms and holds himself up to look down at Rhodey, who seems less talkative than usual post-intercourse. Uncomfortable, even.
"Some wake up call, huh?" Tony asks with a grin. He gives Rhodey's cheek a quick stroke with his thumb and holds himself up to slide out of Rhodey.
If he could he'd stay in longer, he quite enjoyed the unique smothering heat the cervix provided him, but this was Rhodey's first rodeo, and he needed to assess the damage. He hissed at the resisting suction around his cock, as if now that he intruded the virgin hole, it didn't want to let him go. Eventually, with a low groan and a wet pop, his tip comes out. Bloodstained. A little red trickles out of Rhodey's hole. His lips pinch on the side. Should've brought a towel.
"Tsk, that's gonna stain." He says before sliding off the bed and heading to the bathroom. "Wait here."
He's a little lightheaded, and his vision and body sways slightly as he makes his way to the bathroom. He stops at the sink, gripping the sides, sucking in a few more deep breaths, as his body recuperates from whatever pre-rut episode just transpired. When the world settles, and he can walk in a straight line, he stops at the medicine cabinet and takes his rut supplements, adding two more to his usual count.
Tony can understand Rhodey taking advantage of access to military-grade contraceptives. He's wondering if he'd need something stronger to make it through these next few weeks alone, not to mention the possible months to reach the Omega's sexual heat.
He grabs a hand towel, runs warm water over it to dampen it, and goes back to Rhodey, pleased to see the Omega hasn't moved from his spot.
"The byproduct of popping a cherry," he says, sitting on the edge of the bed and placing the towel between the other man's legs, dabbing the blood. "Speaking of cherries, what do ya think of waffles and fruit for breakfast? Paired with a little sake, maybe?"
Tony cracks a joke and for a brief moment an unexpected anger spikes in his chest. He doesn’t know why, it’s just there. Only for a moment but its there. The hormone induced bliss is interrupted again when the alpha starts to pull out. Normally it’s an easy slide but this time it feels like his insides are being pulled with Tony’s cock. He keens in pain knowing that the alpha was being gentle didn’t numb the pain. He doesn’t notice the blood till the comment about ‘stains.’ Seeing the proof of how painful his ‘wake-up call’ had been doesn’t exactly help him feel better.
Tony gets off the bed and James slumps a little deeper into the mattress. He hadn’t been fully awake for most of what just happened and the sensations running through his body—the residual ache keeps him occupied. This isn’t the first time he’s woken up to sex, he didn’t mind it. Tony always got him off. But this time—he hadn’t liked it. He hadn’t enjoyed it from the moment he woke up till the relief tinged moment Tony finally came. The alpha hadn’t even tried to get him off, during or after. That wasn’t okay, Tony had to know it wasn’t ok. Right?
The icing on the cake is when his alpha comes back and starts talking about cherries as if it was all trivial and funny. The omega sits up, ignoring the sharp pain that shoots right up his back. “No. Tony, that hurt. You can’t just—you made me bleed!”
He doesn’t even know what just happened. He wasn’t a fucking virgin. But Tony found a way to make him bleed. The only time he’s ever bled during sex was when he took the knot. “I didn’t like it, it’s too much.” Unsaid: ‘Don’t do it again.’
The accusatory look and tone makes Tony huff. “C’mon, I wasn’t trying to hurt you, okay? It’s not my fault your body’s so sensitive. Any other Omega would’ve—”
It occurs to him that coming off this strong and striking this particular nerve first thing in the morning might not be the best idea right now. He needs to focus on just nipping this in the bud and getting on with their day; there’s bigger fish to fry than debating the rules of sexual conduct.
“Nevermind.” He puts his hands up in surrender, hoping he can backtrack from any emotional damage his previous jab might’ve caused so they can keep the focus on resolving the incident at hand and move on. “Look, I know that wasn’t our usual warm and fuzzy roll in the hay, and, believe it or not, that whole episode wasn’t exactly a cakewalk for me either. It just seems like ever since we bonded—”
His words cut off when a pulsating headache hits, as if to emphasize his point. He holds the back of his hand to his forehead, waiting for it to pass. Guess he’ll have to start taking Tylenol with his suppressants. (No, wait, the packaging says not to combine with painkillers...or was that alcohol?) Once the initial throbbing subsides, he belatedly realizes the hand on his head is still holding the blood-stained towel.
“Uh, would you hold this, please? Thanks.” He lays the cloth over one of Rhodey's thighs, and places a hand on the other, rubbing circles, hoping Rhodey takes it as a soothing gesture.
“Ever since we bonded, I’ve noticed that my body has been going through some…things. Specifically, with my rut cycle. As we both know, knotting is a normal part of sex between alphas and omegas, but, well…” He shrugs.
“Our relationship is a special case that, unfortunately, doesn’t include the luxury of you riding my knot whenever we fuck, and fat chance you'll take it when I'm in a rut, even if I try to go easy on you. So I’ve had to hold back. Been taking suppressants to lessen the intensity of the urge and numb stimulation so I’m not at full mast ‘cuz of a slight breeze. Which, hasn’t been easy, believe you me… Actually, I’m due for one soon and I might be building immunity to my current dosage… “He trails off, briefly lost in thought; the visual of his bottled-up rut lining up perfectly with Rhodey's heat coming to mind.
“But,” he jumps back into his train of thought, remembering that the previous statement might freak Rhodey out a bit. "I know I can handle it. And I'm doing this because I know knotting hurts you. You’re not like other Omegas. And it’s not your fault, necessarily, that’s just…” he waves a hand in the air, finding the right wording, “the way you’re built.”
He sighs then and shakes his head. “But I gotta admit, I’d be lying if I didn’t say my Alpha’s kind of… pissy about it. But I’m doing the best I can to hold it back. For you. Because, you know, ‘happy wife, happy life’ and all that good stuff.”
He smirks, patting Rhodey's thigh. Alright, time to wrap this up already.
“Now, just to reiterate,” he says, scooting closer. Cupping Rhodey's jaw, he tilts his head slightly up to look Tony in the eye as he says, “I did not mean to hurt you like that, Rhodey, ‘kay? I’m just kinda going through something right now, and I’m doing my best to take care of it. Alright?”
He kisses Rhodey's forehead and strokes his cheeks as he waits for a response.
He stops listening after, ‘Any other omega.’ The alpha doesn’t finish the sentence, he doesn’t need to. They talked about this before they bonded, James told Tony he was too old. He warned him that he wasn’t normal. But Tony swore it would be fine and now here they were.
He’s distracted from the wave of self pity and intense sadness when Tony’s face crumples in obvious pain. He reaches out but stops short, unsure what to do. Did Tony take something? The alpha explains after gathering himself and James actually listens. It doesn’t get better. He can see the way Tony is trying to be diplomatic but he might as well not have bothered. He couldn’t please the alpha, not properly. What sort of grown omega couldn’t take a knot?
If he were less upset he would interrupt. But what was there to say? How many times did he have to apologize for being inadequate ? What was he supposed to say after his alpha told him he had to take drugs to avoid hurting him and acting on natural instincts? That he had the equivalent of blue balls because he couldn’t knot his bonded omega. That even if Tony didn’t mean to hurt him presumably he would do what just happened again—as long as he couldn’t knot.
For once Tony touching him, gentling him doesn’t make him feel better. In fact he wishes the alpha would stop touching him. It takes more energy than it should to not just cry. Why was this so difficult?
James forces himself to focus on the most important parts of what Tony just told him. Pulling his face away from the alphas hand, he leans away. Stopping short of crawling back. He doesn’t feel safe anymore, and he can’t hide the uneasiness.
“When is your rut? How long do you have?”
He had a general idea of how ruts went but he’s never actually been in a serious relationship with an alpha before Tony never mind one in rut. He doesn’t know if he could help Tony through his rut. If he was struggling to control himself now then there was no way in hell he could during a rut right? A bonded alpha couldn’t legally rape his own omega—especially not during his own rut.
The same distressed smell of bitter sugar wafts off of Rhodey. It's not as strong as it was when he was under Tony, submitting out of fear of his alpha rearing its head, but the fact it hasn’t dissipated altogether after his attempt to soothe Rhodey makes Tony feel like everything he’s done just now amounted to nothing. Just made things worse… Great.
As much as it makes him want to roll his eyes, he gets it. This was the consequence of hitting a sore spot, in more ways than—(save the puns for once, Stark.) And now Rhodey was wallowing in self-pity and trepidation of the possible pain that awaited. (Well, there was nothing 'possible' about it but, you get his drift.)
Tony sighs, placing his hands behind him as he leans back, glancing at the ceiling he mentally counts down the days.
“Naturally speaking, I’m due in about three weeks. But if I can make my meds worth their weight in hormones, I plan on pushing it back a couple of months.”
He’s starting to wonder if maybe, at this rate, he should just drop the news on Rhodey about the form... After all, it’s not like the timing of his rut is random. And maybe getting it over with was for the best. Because really, whether he announced it now or after breakfast, what difference did it make? Rhodey would be furious, devastated. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, with no breathing room to put Tony’s decision up for discussion anyway…
He really didn't think he'd have the energy to feel the slightest bit of arousal after that clusterfuck (yes, pun intended, and what about it?). But the iron grasp he has on Rhodey's fate, laser-focused and delicately carved to match his long-term vision sends a shiver up his spine.
He's going to get what he wants. There's no doubt about it. However he does want to give the omega a chance to willfully surrender to him. At least, give the satisfaction of appearing
“That doesn’t sound healthy.” He’s never heard of an alpha repressing their own rut that long. Why would Tony push it back that far in the first place? What difference did having his rut months later instead of the end of this month make?
He can sense that Tony is frustrated, annoyed even but he can find it in him to care. This morning started off wrong and it just kept getting worse. He maintains some distance between the two of them and pretends he isn’t still naked and in bed.
“Just say it.” He doesn’t have any patience for Tony beating around the bush. Somehow it was always worse when his alpha tried to be ‘nice.’
To the first response, Tony scoffs. "You're acting like you haven't known me since I was a 17 year old putting seasoned frat boys to shame."
At Rhodey's irritated insistence, he starts with, "Alright, but just know, if it makes you feel some kind of way, I totally get it, okay? I do. But I don't think I can think of an easier option."
Then he licks his lips, holding back a grin, enjoying the cruel delight welling up in a deep, primitive space as he maintains the most straightforward tone and no-bullshit face he can muster. Which is to say his natural mind.
"Maybe it'd be best for us to consider open marriage. It won't be public knowledge, I can find a way to keep things hush-hush, respect our privacy. But, y'know, I can outsource Omegas who can satisfy my urges and needs, maybe once or twice a month. And then you get to have me all to yourself the way your doctor ordered. Placated and knot-free."
He leans forward.
"You don't lose anything. In fact, you'll get exactly what you want. No more pressure to do something you don't want to do. You keep everything you've already got with the addition of pain-free sex, okay well, moderately pain free. You knew my kinks when you bonded with me, but at least there'd be one less to worry about."
A part of him feels like a dealer pushing a hot rod fitted with the latest tech, a shiny ceramic coat, and goes from 0 to 60mph in 2.6 seconds with iffy brakes and shitty handling.
Selling Rhodey his own predestination like it's a dream.
(Though Tony thinks Rhodey is starting to see the encroaching shadows that have always been lurking just beyond the blurred edges.)
"And I'll get what I want. Your safety and wellbeing. Consistent knotting. An outlet for my ruts."
He bites his lip.
Lets the bomb drop.
"A kid."
Somehow the last thing he expects Tony to suggest is an open marriage. Maybe he’s naive but he had assumed Tony would have something else. Something clever and workable. His expression goes from shocked to repulsed the longer Tony talks. Just the words, ‘who can satisfy my urge’” makes him see red never mind the alpha’s insistence that this would apparently work.
Maybe this was how people like Tony did it but James would never consider sharing his damn alpha with anyone else. And the implication of being lacking, not being enough makes his blood cold. He’s getting ready to politely and firmly tell Tony, ‘No this won’t work. I think I need time alone now, thank you.’ When the last bomb drops.
His anger turns into confusion, and he has to count the seconds between inhale and exhale before he can say anything that’s not incoherent yelling.
“Since when do you want a kid?” One of the main reasons he’d even considered Tony’s offer is because he thought kids were totally off the table. Maybe adoption but definitely not him having any. Not at his age. But what Tony was suggesting was that someone else, some other omega who could handle Tony’s knot and didn’t flinch when the alpha got too rough. Some strange omega could have his kid. Was he being serious?
“Look—I won’t share you. Not with anyone. If you want to see other omegas then divorce me.” He responds to Tony’s ‘suggestion’ with finality. He didn’t believe Tony actually wanted a child. Why would he? This had to be extra justification for seeking out other omegas.
Was he bad omega? Fine, he was. Had Tony known that when they got together? Yes. But that didn’t mean he would compromise his marriage—their bond over sex. He’s been too polite to say it but he still didn’t understand why Tony couldn’t just wait out his rut, it’s what James did with his heats. But then if the suppressants weren’t working… He shakes his head. Alphas always made everything so complicated as if they were the only one that had biological urges and needs.
Less certain he asks, “Is that what you want? A divorce?” They haven’t been married that long. Their bond was still fairly new. It would hurt to break but it could be done. If Tony wasn’t satisfied—then James couldn’t make him stay anyway.
Rhodey is being surprisingly levelheaded. It’s still a dumpster fire. I can practically hear the trap closing
Tony always enjoys their little disagreements. At least, when they’re entertaining. When he knew the outcome would swing to his favor. Which, admittedly, was the norm.
The absolute resoluteness that arose in Rhodey at the thought of sharing Tony almost makes him purr. He shares the sentiment.
And then ‘divorce’ comes up, like a punchline, and Rhodey asks if that’s what Tony’s after. It tickles him. So much so he laughs, eyes creasing.
As it should. The entire proposition is a joke, after all.
“You can be so funny without trying, you know that?” Tony gives Rhodey’s leg a fond little pat. “Divorce.”
His chuckles trail off as he slides to the side of the where the control panel is, still talking as he fiddles with the notches.
“No, Rhodey dearest, that’s not what I want. And, let me just say, I absolutely commend you for your doggedness to keep me all for yourself.” Sitting up, he tosses a wink at Rhodey. “The feeling’s mutual.”
Computerized shades disabled, he walks over to the window, taking in his corner of Miami. He’s quiet for a moment, thinking over his words.
"Ya know, close shaves with death makes you think about things… differently. You start thinking about your own mortality. How frail the body truly is. And how everything you've worked for can amount to nothing, just like—" he snaps his fingers.
"I've always had a vision of how my life would turn out. It started with my father. It may seem like I got nothing but scientific indoctrination and a tech conglomerate from him. But in fact, watching Howard and Maria showed me the type of bond I wanted to have. Have someone levelheaded and smart. Who knows when to speak up and when to step down. And of course someone photogenic enough to be respectable arm candy. All in all, a vessel, if you will.”
Tony turns around, leaning against the floor to ceiling window as he crosses his arms.
“I’ve always had doubts I'd meet anyone worthwhile. I learned early on that people are generally nothing more than improvident, corruptible machines. Only along for the ride because they get to sit shotgun in the Jaguar your daddy bought you, and the pieces of gold you toss them down the road. But that gets boring so fast… And then, I met you.”
He smirks. “Lucky, huh?”
“Honestly I didn’t think we’d get on as well as we did. You being older, more experienced in the world, being the honest, do-gooder society loves so much. You couldn’t possibly go along with the ridiculous propositions I’d come up with. Do this. Take that. Talk to him, not her… But you did. Sure you scolded me like the ‘know-better-adult’ you always tried to be, but you rarely turned me down. And in return, you taught me how to, fit in, if you will. Something I probably wouldn’t have been able to achieve without you. The perfect give and take. And that’s when it dawned on me.”
A truly humored smile spreads on Tony’s face now. “I found it. My perfect vessel. The one I can share my goals and secrets with. The perfect buffer between yours truly and the world. Someone who can make the tabloid’s favorite megalomaniac…normal.” He chuckles.
“Well, as normal as someone of my preeminence can be.”
He clicks his tongue, smiles falling back to a line as he brings himself back to the present.
“Sorry, darlin’, didn’t mean to get sentimental on you. It’s just…” Pushing himself off the wall, he ambles around the bed.
“I don’t want you getting the wrong idea. That our marriage means nothing more than being able to knot… or, ah, not. Like I said, having a mate means so much more to me than that, and it just so happens that as of late, my terms of our union have changed. My vision has changed.”
He stops behind Rhodey, places his hands on his shoulders and gently massages them.
“Turns out family isn’t just another f-word… It means a lot. Means security. Stability. Loyalty.” He doesn’t notice his hands tightening a little on the last word. “And a bunch of other warm-and-fuzzy Hallmark buzzwords. And whether I knew it or not, my whole life has been driven to having and maintaining exactly that. A perfect unit, with a respectable legacy. I may be walking more in Howard’s shoes than I care for, but, ever since their passing… I know I can’t let anything else of mine be taken away from me.“
Releasing Rhodey, he steps to his husband’s side.
“And what if I were to die? What if there’s an Afghanistan part two, and it doesn’t have a happy ending? You should have something of me that lives on. Something better than some government gifted, non-profit, namesake or—Pepper forbid—my work being sold off in auction to the highest bidding nimrod who wouldn’t have the capacity to give what those terrorists demanded of me if they were given three years.”
He gently strokes the side of Rhodey’s face with his knuckles. “I want you safe. Healthy. An upright, prime Stark figurehead and willing mother of my heir. And I’ll do anything to ensure that happens.”
He leans down, bringing his face just into the edge of Rhodey’s bubble.
"Now I can understand it might be a hard pill to swallow, and leave a bad taste in your mouth, I get that. I'm certain it wasn't all roses and daisies being Mrs. Maria Stark. But hey, they made it work. So, with all that monologuing said and done…" The hand on Rhodey's face slides down to cup his jaw; the pads of Tony’s fingers squeezing his skin just so, ever so slightly, digging into the bone.
"I need you to be a good boy and learn to swallow it, sourpatch."
Tony says “The feeling’s mutual.” and it gets easier to breath again. He threw the word ‘divorce’ out but he hadn’t meant it. It makes listening to the rest of what Tony had to say possible, because if Tony hadn’t dismissed that word, he would have walked out. He still wants to walk out, this is too much. He needs time to process what Tony just told him, what he admitted to.
He doesn’t leave; he listens. Tony says in his terribly unromantic language that he considers James ‘perfect’ and the sentence doesn’t immediately make him feel better because he didn’t stop at perfect. “My perfect vessel.” Not omega, not partner but a vessel. Was he supposed to want this? Was he supposed to be charmed?
Like before he doesn’t get to interrupt or even process what the fuck it all meant because Tony is telling him the ‘why’ of this curveball. Legacy. What a stupid fucking reason. He hadn’t bonded Tony for his ‘legacy’, he certainly wouldn’t have married him in the hopes of someday inheriting anything. That hadn’t been the point.
By the time Tony finishes talking James has stopped listening. Stuck in previous statements like ‘respectable legacy’ and a rising dread. Tony wasn’t telling him this to start a discussion, he already decided and now he expected James to fall in line. That’s what all this was about. He didn’t want his omega on birth control, he wanted a heir–eventually.
When the silence starts to stretch, he forces himself to stop stalling. Carefully he reaches up to pull the hand on his jaw away.
He needs a drink, he needs space, he needs to leave this room, this house and be alone. He needs to rethink everything he thought about Tony and their relationship. But what comes out of his mouth is: “I need time to think.”
Not denial, not anger, not all the thoughts flying through his head. Because no matter what he was feeling, an instinctual part of him understood that saying ‘no’ or ‘you can’t force me to have your baby’ or even, ‘this isn’t what we agreed to’ would not fly here. Upsetting Tony wouldn’t help. He needed to handle this like an adult.
"This is... this is different." He never expected Tony to change this much. He thought his alpha was different, that he could continue his life without becoming a mother or having to submit to things he already expressed 0 interest in.
This entire time, Tony didn't mention what James already told him. He didn't mention how he'd promised that he wouldn't expect all those traditional things from him.