Fic: Unresolved
Title: Unresolved
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe (Iron Man, Captain America, The Avengers)
Rating: T
Disclaimer: If I owned it, the gay would be way more obvious.
Summary: "Howard loved you, Tony."
Note: I promised this one to Megan like two months ago. Well, here it is, babe! :D
Unresolved
"Fuck it."
"Tony?" Steve sits up, hair ruffled. A second ago he was well on his way to making love to Tony Stark, and now he's alone on the threadbare couch that's shoved into the corner of Tony's workshop, watching Tony walk resolutely towards one of the many bottles not-so-discreetly stashed around the room. Tony pulls out the half-filled bottle, sits down at the desk with his back to Steve, and begins gulping down the alcohol like it's water.
"Tony," Steve says worriedly, straightening his clothes as he gets up, "what's wrong?" Tony doesn't answer. He's still swigging from the bottle, staring straight ahead, away from Steve. Steve puts his hand gently on Tony's shoulder, but Tony shakes it off. "Tony?"
"Just go away." Tony's voice is quiet and tight, and for a second Steve isn't sure he heard right.
"Go away?"
"Go away. Just... just go away, Steve. Forget it."
"Forget what?" Steve asks, confused.
"This," Tony says, gesturing between the two of them as he tosses the bottle aside. Steve winces as it smashes loudly, but Tony's already looking around for another bottle. "Sorry I blue-balled you," Tony adds offhandedly, already focused on opening a new bottle.
"Hey, hey," Steve says, trying to pull the bottle from Tony's hand. "I don't think you need any more to drink, Tony."
"Fuck off," Tony snaps, taking another enormous gulp.
"Tony," Steve says sternly, "come on. What's going on?"
"Seriously," Tony says, turning around in his swivel chair to glare at Steve, "why the fuck are you still here?"
Steve splutters. "Why am I still here? A minute ago everything was going great, and now you're over here drinking like your life depends on it. Why wouldn't I still be here?"
Tony laughs. "Is that it? If you're that upset about not finishing, just gimme a minute and I'll suck you off."
Steve finds himself raising his voice without meaning to. "What kind of man do you think I am?” Tony isn't meeting his eyes, and Steve can barely hear him as he mumbles something. "What?"
"You're the kind of man my father liked."
Steve blinks. "Is that a problem?" he asks, a little confused.
Tony's staring at nothing in particular again, and the silence goes on so long that Steve's beginning to wonder if Tony remembers he's there. "He didn't like me."
"What?" Steve's beginning to feel repetitive.
"One time I brought home a 104 on a test in third grade. Know what my dad asked?"
"Er... what?"
"'Why didn't you get the full 105?'" Steve's mouth opens of its own accord, but he doesn't know what to say. "But know what did satisfy him? You." Steve blushes, knowing that Tony probably doesn't mean it that way. "No," Tony says, apparently reading Steve's thoughts, "I mean it that way too, but I've never been too concerned with not satisfying him that way." Tony snorts. "My daddy issues don't run that deep, man."
Steve wonders if this is the moment for a chuckle. By the time he's done evaluating whether or not to laugh, the silence has dragged on too long, and it definitely isn't the time. "Tony," he says, with no idea what he's about to say, "I... he wasn't..."
"What?" Tony asks aggressively, draining the bottle. "Wasn't like that? Wasn't disappointed in me? What, Steve?" Tony throws this bottle at the window, and grunts in disappointment when the reinforced glass of the window doesn't break.
"He wasn't... he loved you, Tony."
Tony laughs. "How the hell would you know? You dropped out of his life long before I came along, Steve. What makes you think you know how he felt about me?" Steve feels like he's been punched in the stomach. He hasn't been there, he doesn't know, but Howard was his friend.
"Tony," he says, "the Howard I knew... he really wasn't that kind of a man."
"Well, I guess we knew different men," Tony snaps.
Steve watches silently as Tony pulls out yet another bottle and starts drinking. "Tony," he says softly.
"Get out."
Steve admits defeat. He gets up and quietly walks out, heading for the gym and a punching bag that's about to need replacing.
Tony keeps drinking.
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe (Iron Man, Captain America, The Avengers)
Rating: T
Disclaimer: If I owned it, the gay would be way more obvious.
Summary: "Howard loved you, Tony."
Note: I promised this one to Megan like two months ago. Well, here it is, babe! :D
Unresolved
"Fuck it."
"Tony?" Steve sits up, hair ruffled. A second ago he was well on his way to making love to Tony Stark, and now he's alone on the threadbare couch that's shoved into the corner of Tony's workshop, watching Tony walk resolutely towards one of the many bottles not-so-discreetly stashed around the room. Tony pulls out the half-filled bottle, sits down at the desk with his back to Steve, and begins gulping down the alcohol like it's water.
"Tony," Steve says worriedly, straightening his clothes as he gets up, "what's wrong?" Tony doesn't answer. He's still swigging from the bottle, staring straight ahead, away from Steve. Steve puts his hand gently on Tony's shoulder, but Tony shakes it off. "Tony?"
"Just go away." Tony's voice is quiet and tight, and for a second Steve isn't sure he heard right.
"Go away?"
"Go away. Just... just go away, Steve. Forget it."
"Forget what?" Steve asks, confused.
"This," Tony says, gesturing between the two of them as he tosses the bottle aside. Steve winces as it smashes loudly, but Tony's already looking around for another bottle. "Sorry I blue-balled you," Tony adds offhandedly, already focused on opening a new bottle.
"Hey, hey," Steve says, trying to pull the bottle from Tony's hand. "I don't think you need any more to drink, Tony."
"Fuck off," Tony snaps, taking another enormous gulp.
"Tony," Steve says sternly, "come on. What's going on?"
"Seriously," Tony says, turning around in his swivel chair to glare at Steve, "why the fuck are you still here?"
Steve splutters. "Why am I still here? A minute ago everything was going great, and now you're over here drinking like your life depends on it. Why wouldn't I still be here?"
Tony laughs. "Is that it? If you're that upset about not finishing, just gimme a minute and I'll suck you off."
Steve finds himself raising his voice without meaning to. "What kind of man do you think I am?” Tony isn't meeting his eyes, and Steve can barely hear him as he mumbles something. "What?"
"You're the kind of man my father liked."
Steve blinks. "Is that a problem?" he asks, a little confused.
Tony's staring at nothing in particular again, and the silence goes on so long that Steve's beginning to wonder if Tony remembers he's there. "He didn't like me."
"What?" Steve's beginning to feel repetitive.
"One time I brought home a 104 on a test in third grade. Know what my dad asked?"
"Er... what?"
"'Why didn't you get the full 105?'" Steve's mouth opens of its own accord, but he doesn't know what to say. "But know what did satisfy him? You." Steve blushes, knowing that Tony probably doesn't mean it that way. "No," Tony says, apparently reading Steve's thoughts, "I mean it that way too, but I've never been too concerned with not satisfying him that way." Tony snorts. "My daddy issues don't run that deep, man."
Steve wonders if this is the moment for a chuckle. By the time he's done evaluating whether or not to laugh, the silence has dragged on too long, and it definitely isn't the time. "Tony," he says, with no idea what he's about to say, "I... he wasn't..."
"What?" Tony asks aggressively, draining the bottle. "Wasn't like that? Wasn't disappointed in me? What, Steve?" Tony throws this bottle at the window, and grunts in disappointment when the reinforced glass of the window doesn't break.
"He wasn't... he loved you, Tony."
Tony laughs. "How the hell would you know? You dropped out of his life long before I came along, Steve. What makes you think you know how he felt about me?" Steve feels like he's been punched in the stomach. He hasn't been there, he doesn't know, but Howard was his friend.
"Tony," he says, "the Howard I knew... he really wasn't that kind of a man."
"Well, I guess we knew different men," Tony snaps.
Steve watches silently as Tony pulls out yet another bottle and starts drinking. "Tony," he says softly.
"Get out."
Steve admits defeat. He gets up and quietly walks out, heading for the gym and a punching bag that's about to need replacing.
Tony keeps drinking.