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There’s a story in the bible that Jesus tells about two men.
One man built his house on rock, and the other man built his house on sand.
A storm came and the house built on rock survived while the house built on sand crashed, and crashed, and crashed.
“The rain came down, the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat on that house; and it fell—and great was its fall.”
Tony watches as Steve slides behind Bucky, who is stirring pasta sauce in front of the stove. Tony watches as Steve wraps his arms around Bucky’s waist and hooks his chin over Bucky’s shoulder and he watches as Steve presses a soft kiss at Bucky’s pulse.
Bucky turns his head a little and catches Tony's eyes. “I think we should change his name from Captain America to Captain Clingy, what do you think?” he asks, a fake exasperation in his voice, an indulgent smile on his lips.
Tony smiles back. “I think you can call him whatever you want,” he says, adding a wink to soften the honesty.
“Can’t blame a guy for clinging when you look like this,” Steve says.
Steve turns to look at Tony and he smiles, as if they’re sharing a secret.
Tony smiles back.
He knows where his house is built.
Sometimes Tony lies awake and just breathes.
Every easy in and out of air feels like something he’s stolen. His chest feels heavier than ever, but his lungs are clear.
Tony knows what every easy breath means – requited.
Requited.
Bucky is sleeping quietly next to Tony. Steve’s arm is thrown around Bucky’s stomach in a loose embrace and his hand is so close to Tony’s that Tony would only have to move the slightest bit for them to touch.
Tony moves his hand away.
He wonders if this could kill him too.
He wonders if guilt is something you can choke on.
“I’m not a fucking child,” Bucky yells, getting right up in Steve’s face.
“Well then stop acting like one,” Steve says back, his voice hot with anger.
They’re fighting about… Well Tony isn’t too sure what they’re arguing about, he’s tuned most of it out.
He knows it’s not a big deal. Bucky and Steve argue sometimes. They get over it relatively quickly.
If he wasn’t so afraid of Steve’s anger, he’d almost be jealous.
Tony’s just… there. Watching and waiting for their storm to be over. His throat tingles and he wonders if it’s real or if it’s in his head.
“Tony talk some sense into this idiot,” Bucky says, angrily running his hand through his hair.
Steve looks at Tony, anger still in his face, still flashing in his eyes.
It’s a testament to how long it’s been since Tony has seen that look on Steve’s face that he flinches away before he knows what he’s doing.
Confusion suddenly floods Steve’s face, pushing the anger away.
Tony straightens up quickly, consciously pushing his shoulders back. He’s not scared. He smiles.
“Cut Cap some slack, Bucky,” he says, avoiding Steve’s gaze. “You know he only worries ‘cause he loves you.”
Bucky rolls his eyes and walks over to join Tony on the couch. He pulls Tony into his side and drops his head onto Tony’s shoulder. “You don’t treat me like I’m some kid who can’t go to the store by himself,” Bucky says petulantly, “and you love me, right?”
Tony runs his fingers through Bucky’s hair. Smooths out the mess Bucky has made of it. “You know I do. But I’ve also never lost you,” he says softly, “and I imagine that could kind of traumatize a guy.”
That seems to take all the wind out of Bucky’s sail. He sighs, slumping more heavily into Tony. He hides his face in the crook of Tony’s neck – like a child.
Tony loves him.
“Come on,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss at Bucky’s hairline, “make nice with Cap. He looks like he might cry if you stay mad at him any longer.”
Bucky groans irritably into Tony’s neck, pretending to be annoyed at having to forgive Steve, but he lifts his arm and waves his hand in a clear invitation for Steve to join their cuddle.
Tony had only been joking about Steve looking like he was going to cry, but the face Steve makes when he stands in front of them catches him by surprise.
He looks devastated.
“Hey—“ Tony starts, unsure of what to say, only certain that he has to get that look off of Steve’s face.
“I’m sorry,” Steve says, sinking into Tony’s other side. He slips his arm behind Tony’s back, presses soft kisses to Tony’s temple. “I’m so sorry.” He sounds miserable. Tony thinks Steve is probably the only person in the world who can make a simple apology sound so sincere.
“Wrong brunette you’re apologizing to, darling,” Tony says, slipping his arm out from under Bucky and making to stand. The two soldiers probably want a little time to themselves.
Before he can exit from the super soldier sandwich, Steve’s arm wraps around his waist and brings him back down. Bucky also wraps an arm around Tony and scoots so that he’s almost on Tony’s lap.
“Sorry, doll,” Bucky murmurs, his voice small, “I know you don’t like us fighting.”
Tony feels out of depth. He feels like he’s trying to swim above water but he can’t figure out which way is up.
“Wha-? No, no,” he stammers, bringing his hands to the arms wrapped around his stomach. He can’t tell if he wants to hold them close or pull them off him. “Why—Why are you apologizing to me?”
“I scared you,” Steve says, and Tony wants to hate him for how brave he is. Tony wants to hate him for how honest he is. Why couldn’t Steve just ignore things like a normal person?
“You didn’t,” Tony says, because he isn’t brave like Steve is.
Steve pulls back a little and his eyes are so blue and sincere and beautiful and Tony swears he can see love in them.
Despair ties a knot in Tony’s stomach.
Tony stands before Steve can say anything else.
“Okay, stop using me as an excuse,” he says, giving both of them a smile, “I’m going to go work on some projects, you two kids kiss and make up.” He walks away before either one of them can say anything else.
Guilt feels like water lapping at his feet. Guilt feels like hands trying to drag him under.
The thing is, is that Tony gets it.
He really gets it.
Bucky Barnes is the kind of attractive that almost hurts your heart to look at. With his dark hair and deep ocean blue eyes, his soft mouth with lips that just beg to be kissed. Tony can’t imagine anyone not being attracted to Bucky, and if there’s someone out there who can resist Bucky when he smiles, well they’re a stronger person than Tony can imagine ever being.
But it’s not just that.
It’s Bucky’s kind heart, his bravery. The way he’s gentle with his fingers and intentional with his actions. It’s the way Bucky sometimes looks at Tony like he’s the best thing he’s seen all day. It’s the careful, constant way that Bucky loves.
Tony gets it.
Falling in love with Bucky Barnes is impossibly easy. Being loved by Bucky Barnes feels like an undeserved blessing.
He understands how Steve could make himself love someone unlovable if it meant keeping Bucky Barnes.
He really gets it.
He understands how Bucky, with his kind, heroic heart, could fall in love with someone unlovable if it meant saving their life.
Tony gets it.
But ‘getting it’ doesn’t stop the guilt from clawing through his chest. Rotting in his stomach.
Tearing up his heart.
For all that he doesn’t cough up flowers anymore, Tony still doesn’t know how to be alone with Steve.
It’s still… awkward without Bucky there to act as the binding chain between them.
Tony knows that the clearness in his chest is supposed to mean something – supposed to mean that Steve loves him back – but it’s hard to believe when Steve goes quiet when Bucky isn’t around. And, to be fair, it isn’t only Steve who goes quiet.
Tony tends to go quiet too – he’s yet to figure out how not to be afraid when he’s alone with Steve.
He’s alone with Steve in his workshop, Bucky having gone up about a half an hour ago to start on dinner. He had expected Steve to go up with Bucky, but Steve had surprisingly stayed in his spot on the couch.
“So, I have some good news,” Tony says suddenly, twirling in his chair to face Steve. He wonders if the atmosphere feels as awkward to Steve as it does to him. He wonders if the itch in his throat is real or imagined.
“Let’s hear it,” Steve says, closing his sketchbook and leaning forward. There’s a small smile on his face, and having that smile directed towards him still feels so foreign to Tony that it takes him a second adjust.
“Obie wants me to lead the weapons demonstration for the U.S. base in Iraq,” Tony says, “We’re going to be unveiling the new Jericho missile.”
“Oh,” Steve says, a little confusion on his face, “congratulations? You do weapons demonstrations all the time though, is there something special about this one?”
“Nothing special about the missile,” Tony says, a little surprised that Steve remembers anything about Tony’s day to day responsibilities for Stark Industries. “The good news is that because the demonstration is going to be in Iraq, travel and such is a little more complicated – you know, active war zone and all – so I’m going to be out of the house for two weeks.”
Confusion falls heavily over Steve’s face. His eyebrows furrow down in question. “Tony,” he says, with a little shake of his head, “I don’t understand how that’s good news?”
Now it’s Tony’s turn to be confused.
“Well, you and Bucky will have the house to yourselves,” he explains slowly, carefully trying to figure out where he might have messed up. “You guys can have, like, a little Tony-free vacation – like you’ve wanted, right?”
Steve is quiet for a long moment. Tony watches Steve’s face crumble into something he’s more familiar with – anger.
Tony’s fingers go cold. He wonders if the pressure in his throat is real or imagined.
He stays as still as possible. He doesn’t shrink back like a coward. He’s not scared. He’s not scared.
The silence grows.
It’s unbearable.
“Sorry,” Tony says, because he’s a coward and he ruins everything, “I—I—“ He’s not even sure what he should be apologizing for. He’s a fucking idiot who can’t even figure that out. This is why he shouldn’t ever be alone with Steve. He’s such a fucking idiot and—
“Tony!” Steve says cutting off Tony’s senseless babbling. He stands and steps towards Tony and Tony physically recoils because he’s a coward and he ruins everything.
Steve stops mid-step, his eyes wide.
After a second he steps back, his face crumpling into something miserable. He looks like he might cry.
Tony doesn’t understand.
“Don’t,” Steve sighs, running a hand over his face, his shoulders hunching together in a poor attempt to make himself look small, “Don’t apologize. Please, Tony, don’t apologize.”
Tony feels frozen in his seat.
The air is so heavy he isn’t sure he could stand up even if he wanted to.
The silence drags on.
“Tony, I—“ Steve starts.
“Hey fellas, dinner’s ready.” Bucky’s voice comes out from the com, thankfully interrupting whatever Steve was about to say.
All at once, Tony can breathe again.
“Let’s go,” he says, not even having to force the smile on his face. “You know how much he’ll complain if we keep him waiting.”
Steve looks like he wants to continue what he was about to say for a split second, before he relaxes and gives Tony a smile back. “Yeah, okay.”
Bucky is less than pleased to hear Tony’s “good news.”
“We're going with you,” he says, viciously stabbing at his pasta with his fork.
“It’s just a weapons demonstration,” Tony says, “it’s not like I’m actually going off to war.”
“Well you’re going into an active war zone,” Bucky replies pointedly.
“And I’m going to have the best security money can buy – along with probably half the troops located at the base to protect little ole’ me.”
“Those greenies can protect jack shit,” Bucky snarls. “We’re going with you or Obadiah can do the weapons demonstration himself.”
Tony can’t help but chuckle at Bucky’s antics. He looks to Steve for help. “Come on, Steve, help me out here. Tell Bucky that I’ll be fine by myself for two weeks.”
Steve looks at Tony and then looks down at his pasta. “Actually,” he says, “I think I’d feel better if we could come along too.”
Tony almost wants to roll his eyes. Of course Steve would take Bucky’s side. He’s an idiot for expecting anything else.
“Come on,” Tony sighs, “You really think taking Bucky into an active war zone is a good idea?”
Steve stays quiet, looking down at his pasta.
Bucky stays quiet too, angrily stabbing his pasta.
Tony sighs.
“I’m a big boy,” Tony says, giving up on eating his own pasta so he can scoot closer to Bucky. He rubs his cheek on Bucky’s shoulder. “It’ll definitely be hard to go without your cooking for two weeks but I’ll come back in one piece – promise.”
Bucky’s stabbing of his pasta softens a little bit.
“Come on,” Tony whines, “you really going to be mad at me before I go away for two weeks?”
Bucky sighs and let’s go of his fork. He turns to Tony and squishes his face with his hands. “I’m not mad, I just don’t want you to go away at all, doll,” he says softly – like he really means it.
“You’re sweet,” Tony says, turning his face to press a kiss into the palm of Bucky’s hand. “Don’t worry though, I’m sure you’ll have so much fun with Steve, the two weeks will fly by.”
Tony catches Steve’s eyes and smiles, like they’re sharing a secret.
Steve doesn’t smile back.
“I love you,” Steve says, pressing kisses on Tony’s hair line, his eyelids, his nose, his chin, his mouth. “I love you.”
Tony feels overwhelmed. He feels like he’s stuck in a tidal wave and he knows it has to crest soon but it just keeps growing and growing.
“Tony, I love you so much.” Steve slides his arms under Tony’s armpits and pulls him tight against him, his big hands a soft caress on the back of Tony’s skull. “I love you.” Steve says it so honestly, so desperately, Tony wonders who he’s trying to convince; Tony or himself.
Tony feels Bucky slide up behind him. Feels him pressing soft kisses where Tony’s shoulder meets his neck.
“I already miss ya,” Bucky says, his voice a soft rasp in the dark. “You sure we can’t tag along?”
Tony grabs Bucky’s hand from where it rests on his hip and brings it up to his lips so he can kiss every metal finger.
“I’ll be back before you know it,” he says softly.
Steve buries his face in Tony’s chest and Tony presses a kiss on the top of his golden head. It still feels like a small miracle that he’s able to do that.
Bucky breathes deeply into the base of Tony’s neck and nuzzles his nose into the short hairs there.
The wave grows.
Tony wonders when it will all come crashing down.
Death, ever doting, comes back for Tony in Iraq.
“There’s shrapnel in your chest,” an older man explains to him. “Your heart stopped twice while I was operating on you.” He points to the car battery connected to Tony’s chest. “That battery is the only thing keeping the shrapnel from tearing your heart.”
Tony wants to laugh, so he does.
It hurts to laugh, but the tightness in his chest is so familiar that Tony can’t stop laughing.
He vaguely wonders if this is karma for ruining two good men. He wonders if it’s karma for accepting love he doesn’t deserve.
He wonders if this is what it feels like to choke on guilt.
They call themselves the Ten-Rings. Tony only knows them as terrorists.
They ask Tony to build them weapons. The guns they hold proudly sport the Stark Industries logo.
Tony politely declines.
They put a bag over his head and water flows over his face and he wants to laugh.
They think they’re torturing him. They don’t know that Tony’s been drowning his whole life.
Yinsen tells him that if he doesn’t agree to build weapons, they’re going to kill them both, so Tony smiles and nods and agrees to build weapons for terrorists.
He can only imagine the look of disgust on Steve’s face.
Agreeing to work for terrorists. Bending his ideals for results. All things Steve would hate him for.
“Don’t worry, Yinsen,” he says, “You’re a good man. I’ll get you back home.”
Tony's chest feels tight and he tells himself it’s only the car battery.
“You had hanahaki,” Yinsen says softly, a sorry statement and not a question.
Tony doesn’t reply, his hands busy building a miniature arc reactor.
“I saw your lungs when I was operating on you,” Yinsen says, and his voice is apologetic. “The scarring was quite severe… You must have had the disease for a long time.”
“A couple of decades,” Tony answers, blinking hard against the bright light of the arc reactor.
Tony hears the shocked inhale.
“I’ve never heard of anyone…”
“Well, yeah,” Tony shrugs, “What can I say? I’ve always been a special little boy.”
Yinsen is quiet for a long while.
Tony finishes the arc reactor, and Yinsen helps him take the car battery out and install the reactor into his chest.
Yinsen’s hands are cold and steady and they feel like life.
The arc reactor is lighter than the car battery and doesn’t shock him if he moves the wrong way. It also makes his spit kind of taste like coconut which Tony can’t decide if that’s a plus or a not.
“The person you love… eventually they loved you back?” Yinsen asks once the reactor is safely installed.
Tony decides in that moment that coconut tastes too much like flowers and he hates it.
“Well you haven’t seen me hacking up flowers, right?” he says, not quite brave enough to answer the question.
Yinsen’s eyes are deep and kind and Tony has to look away, suddenly hit with a crazy sense that he might cry.
“It’s just that you don’t seem like a man who cares all that much for your own life,” Yinsen says gently, honestly. “I can’t understand why, if you have someone who loves you waiting for you to come home...”
Tony clears his work station. He dips his hands into the bucket of water and dries them on his thin jacket. It feels good to not have to worry about electrocuting himself every time he washes his hands.
“There’s a lot people don’t know about hanahaki,” Tony says, looking at his dirty, scarred hands. They fit him. He deserves them. No amount of water will ever be able to wash them clean. He gives Yinsen a rueful smile. “Everyone thinks it’s about love, but it’s actually about holding good people hostage.”
Yinsen tilts his head, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
“You’re a good man, Yinsen,” Tony says, “If you could save someone’s life by loving them, do you think you could do that?”
“I’d like to imagine I could,” Yinsen answers.
“Yeah, that’s the trouble with good men like you,” Tony says with a good natured shake of his head, “you might think it’s love, but it’s not. It’s Stockholm syndrome. But, whatever, the disease doesn’t seem to know any different.”
Yinsen is quiet again for a while.
“But it’s love for you, correct?” he asks suddenly.
“Yeah,” Tony answers, telling himself that the tightness in his throat is just his body getting used to the arc reactor. “Yeah, it is.”
Tony builds a weapon. Tony becomes a weapon.
Yinsen dies in his arms. “Don’t waste your life,” he says, blood trickling from his mouth. “The dead can do nothing, but the living can do everything.”
Tony tries to block the holes in Yinsen, but he’s a weapon and he can’t heal and—
“Then stay alive,” Tony grinds out, uselessly trying to wrap Yinsen’s chest with the thin jacket he took off. “If the living can do everything, you gotta stay with me. Come on, we said we’d get out together—your family is waiting for you!”
Yinsen brings his hands up and places them over Tony’s, effectively stilling their manic motions. “My family is dead, Stark,” Yinsen says slowly, a sorry smile on his face. “I’m going to see them now.” He gives Tony’s hand a weak squeeze. “It’s okay. I want this… I want this.”
Cold realization washes over Tony and he wants to be mad but he can’t even manage that in the face of Yinsen bleeding out in front of him. Bleeding out because of him.
Because of useless, unlovable, Tony Stark, who ruins everything he touches.
“Thank you for saving me,” Tony chokes out.
Yinsen gives him a weak smile. “Don’t waste it,” he whispers, and he goes still in Tony’s arms.
Tony uses his metal fingers to close Yinsen’s eyes as gently as he can.
He lays Yinsen on the ground and he sets the cave on fire.
He does what he’s always done best and destroys, and destroys, and destroys.
Tony crawls through the desert.
He desperately clings to life in the way only he knows how. The desert tries to suffocate him, but Tony’s been suffocating his whole life. It’s going to take more than that to kill him.
His skin chaps and burns and his chest aches. He tries to walk but his legs give out so he crawls.
He’s going to live, he decides.
He’s begged for death for so long that it feels strange to want to live so desperately, but he forces himself to take wretched breaths, straining his lungs for the thinnest strand of air so he might live.
Tony won’t waste the sacrifices of good men.
Not anymore.
“You’re never going anywhere by yourself ever again,” Bucky says, his embrace crushing.
Tony’s not quite sure if he’s hallucinating or not, but Bucky’s arms feel quite real against his skin.
Warm too. Which is good because he’s really cold.
He sags in Bucky’s arms. He thinks he can see Steve standing behind, watching them.
“Sorry to disappoint, cap,” he says and it hurts to talk. His vision is getting darker with every blink. His ears feel like cotton has been stuffed inside. “Looks like I’m going to be alive for a while longer.” He thinks he might smile, but he can’t really feel his face anymore.
It would be kind of hilarious if he was just hallucinating all this.
It would make more sense if he was hallucinating all this, actually.
In what world would Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers waste their time searching the desert for Tony Stark?
He thinks he laughs for real this time, but he isn’t sure because he can’t hear anything anymore.
It’s so fucked up, he thinks as his vision finally goes black. He loves Steve so much but he can’t even give Steve the one thing he wants.
The only thing Steve has ever asked of him.
It’s cool when Tony wakes up.
“Oh,” he mumbles, blinking to clear his vision. “At least I didn’t hallucinate the saving part.” He can’t be sure, but it looks like he might be in a military medical tent. At least being the military’s biggest weapons supplier is good for something.
He tries to sit up. He’s attached to an IV, which is good, because he’s probably still dehydrated, but his mouth feels like something might have died in it, so he better get something to drink soon or he might just pop the IV bag straight into him mouth like an insane person.
An arm comes up behind him to help him up and Tony startles, turning quickly to look at the secret helper.
“Steve?”
Steve doesn’t answer. His face is grim, but his hands are gentle as they move Tony’s hospital bed to an inclined position. Gentle as they fluff Tony’s pillows and gentle as they push Tony back into them.
Tony, for one, can’t seem to do much other than just stare, not quite sure whether he’s still hallucinating or not.
Steve steps away for a moment and comes back with a paper cup filled with ice. He takes an ice chip and presses it against Tony’s lips.
It’s cold. It feels soothing against his throat as it melts. It feels real.
Tony can’t stop staring.
Steve – or not Steve – feeds him more ice cubes before setting the cup down and brushing his fingers over Tony’s hair, down his face, forcing Tony to blink.
“You’re not hallucinating, genius,” Steve says, a little smile on his face. “Stop staring or your eyes are going to fall out.”
Tony leans into Steve’s touch, helpless not to. “Okay,” he says, “Not hallucinating. Good.”
Steve’s hand comes to palm Tony’s cheek, his thumb a soft brush under Tony’s eye.
Tony sighs and closes his eyes. Focusing on the touch. “I missed you,” he confesses honestly.
Two things happen all at once.
One, something that sounds too much like a sob rips from Steve’s throat.
Two, Steve basically throws himself on top of Tony, his arms tight around Tony, his face finding a home in the crook of Tony’s neck.
“Don’t scare me like that again,” Steve says, and Tony can feel him shaking – he’s actually shaking. “Thank you for coming back, Tony – Thank you. Thank—“
“Hey,” Tony soothes, weakly patting Steve’s back in a poor attempt at comfort. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” Tony isn’t quite sure what’s okay, but he knows he doesn’t like seeing Steve this distraught.
They stay like that for a while, Steve shaking in Tony’s arms, Tony uselessly trying to comfort Steve.
Steve pulls back finally, and his face is blotchy but his eyes are clear.
“Tony,” he says, serious as Tony has ever seen him. “I love you.” He says it pointedly, like it’s supposed to mean something,
“Yeah,” Tony nods, a little confused, but still stupidly eager to please. “I love you too.”
Steve’s eyes wander across Tony’s face, searching for… something.
Whatever he’s looking for, he doesn’t find it, because his face crumples into misery and he looks like he might cry again.
Tony opens his mouth, not really knowing what he’s going to say, but desperate to get that look off of Steve’s face.
Bucky Barnes barges into the tent before Tony can get a word out.
He launches himself into Tony’s bed and Tony laughs because thank God for Bucky Barnes. Saving him at every turn.
“I missed you too,” Tony laughs, strands of Bucky’s hair getting caught in his mouth.
“Stevie and I was just about to wage war on all of Iraq to find you, you punk,” Bucky says, pressing kisses up and down Tony’s face. “See if I ever let you go anywhere without me ever again. If you thought Steve was a worrier, well you got another thing coming. You ain’t gonna be able to take a piss without me knowing about it.”
Tony laughs, too happy in the moment to feel the despair that lives in his chest.
He hears the bed creak as Steve joins them.
“I thought we lost you, Tony,” Steve says, “Thank you for coming back to us. Thank you.”
It should be suffocating, the weight of two super soldiers on top of him, but it feels… freeing.
For one, perfect moment, guilt doesn’t loom over Tony’s shoulder but watches from across the room instead.
Tony lands back in the good old U.S. of A., he gets himself a burger and orders a press conference.
Bucky and Steve aren’t too happy about it. For some reason, they’re eager to get him home. But Tony is adamant, so the press conference happens.
It’s the first one he’s called for since his father died. The reporters flood the room like wolves, but for the first time in his life, he’s not scared of them at all.
“I never got to say goodbye to my father,” he starts. It’s always good to start with his father. He’s the Stark the world loved, after all. “There's questions I would've asked him. I would've asked him how he felt about what his company did, if he was conflicted, if he ever had doubts. Or maybe he was every inch of man we remember from the newsreels. I saw young Americans killed by the very weapons I created to defend them and protect them. And I saw that I had become part of a system that is comfortable with zero-accountability.”
The words come out of his mouth easily. He’s had a lot of time to think about them, after all.
A reporter raises his hand. Tony nods.
“Mr. Stark! What happened over there?”
Tony thinks about Yinsen. He thinks about the Ten-Rings and the Stark weapons they held him captive with. He thinks about the soldiers who were stationed to protect him.
He thinks about the shrapnel in his chest, thinks about how it’s probably marked with ‘Stark.’
“I had my eyes opened,” he says, not quite the truth, but as close to it that he can tell a reporter. “I came to realize that I had more to offer this world than just making things that blow up. And that is why, effective immediately, I am shutting down the weapons manufacturing division of Stark Industries.”
His world explodes with flashing lights and shouted questions.
Bucky and Steve are quiet as they walk together to the car.
They’re the two golden boys of the military industrial complex. Tony looks out the window and wonders if they’re disappointed in him. Well. More disappointed than usual.
“Sorry,” he says, when the silence becomes unbearable. He’s still looking out the window, too much of a coward to face them outright. “I know you guys believe a lot in what my old man did – in what he stood for.” He bites his lip, stopping himself from saying anything more. He prepares himself for Steve’s disappointment, his disgust. He thinks Steve might yell, but he’s hoping he won’t. At least not with Bucky in the car. He’s never talked about Howard with Bucky. He wonders if Bucky will be as mad as Steve. Maybe Bucky will be the one to do the yelling.
An arm slides behind him and Tony doesn’t flinch. He won’t back away. He’ll take whatever they think he deserves.
He feels himself being lifted and moved to the middle seat.
“Sorry,” he says again, helpless not to. He folds his hands together and squeezes so they won’t shake. “Sorry – I know you must be disappointed but… but I can’t build weapons anymore. I—“
“Shh, doll, it’s okay,” Bucky says. He slips his hand between Tony’s and intertwines their fingers. “Nothing to be sorry about. We’re not disappointed – not at all.”
Steve’s hand comes to slip Tony’s other hand into his own.
“I’m proud of you, Tony,” Steve says, gentle, like he might scare Tony if his voice is too loud.
The words almost hurt to hear, because Tony never imagined those words coming out of Steve’s mouth. Certainly not directed at him.
“Yeah?” Tony asks, because he’s pathetic and stupid and he’ll never learn how not to crave even the tiniest bit of Steve’s approval.
“Yeah,” Steve nods. He pauses for a moment, and then smiles, leaning in to press a kiss to Tony’s lips.
Bucky’s lips are quick behind him, taking Steve’s spot when Steve straightens up.
Tony melts beneath their attention.
“That’s… good,” he sighs, breathless with relief. “Great, even.”
“I know it couldn’t have been an easy decision for you, dollface,” Bucky says, giving Tony’s hand a squeeze. “We’re proud of you. I’m just sorry you had to stand up to those wolves alone.”
Tony smiles, his heart so full of love and guilt for Bucky Barnes that it’s hard to breathe.
Steve squeezes Tony’s hand.
Tony squeezes back.
It’s suffocating.
Everything goes to hell for a while.
Obie is vocally unhappy with Tony’s decision. He talks to Tony about his dad, tries to guilt him with the ‘Good for America,’ speech, tries to talk about numbers and money and jobs and it’s torture, because Obie’s been the one adult Tony could trust his entire life and it’s a horrible feeling to want to avoid him just because he can’t see eye to eye on this with Tony.
And it’s not just Obie.
Stark Industries takes a nose-dive.
Anyone who is anyone in government, from interns to senators, goes on T.V. to talk about how selfish Howard Stark’s spoiled son is acting. Money-grifting psychologists go on day-time T.V. shows and talk about PTSD and the effect of trauma. Doctors talk about Tony’s long-publicized battle with hanahaki and the potential effects on his brain the disease could have had.
Everything is shit, so Tony decides it’s a good as time as any to hand Steve the divorce papers.
It’s something he got drafted up almost as soon as he could talk to JARVIS again. It’s something he’s been thinking about for a while. Even before the cave and Yinsen and blowing up his father’s legacy.
“You can pick which properties you want to be put under your name,” Tony says, feeling a little childishly excited at being able to finally give Steve something he wants. He points to a number on one of the pages. “This is what I’ve set the alimony to be – let me know if you don’t think it’s enough.” He flips through to another page. “You’ll receive a portion of my stocks for Stark Industries, not that they’re worth much now, but I think you’ll be glad to have them in a couple of years.” He runs through his list, trying to make sure he’s covered everything. “Oh! Don’t worry about the will. The divorce won’t cut you out or anything. You’re still set to inherit everything after I die.”
He sits back once he’s explained everything. He feels good. The guilt doesn’t sit as heavy in his gut as it usually does.
Steve looks through the pages, one by one, his brows furrowed. Bucky is quiet at Steve’s side. He looks unhappy.
“What are you trying to say, Tony?” Bucky asks, his lips turned down unhappily. “Do you want to break up with us? You want to break up with Steve?”
Tony looks at Bucky, a little confused. “What? Me? No,” he says, shaking his head. “If anything, I hope you guys will still want me, even when I’m not holding this house over your heads.”
Anger suddenly flushes over Bucky’s face. “Is that what you think?” he asks, his voice rising with anger. “You think me and Stevie just been with you because we want a roof over our heads?”
“No! Of course not,” Tony says quickly, “I’m just saying our relationship’s been unfair for a while and I want to even the playing field. I don’t want anything to change between us – I still love you. I’m doing this because I love you. I just want to protect you guys in case your feelings… change someday.”
“You doing this for us?” Bucky asks incredulously. He stands from the table, running his hands furiously over his hair. “You think – you think throwing some money at Steve is somehow protecting us? Now, I’m no genius, so please, explain how that makes any fucking sense.”
Tony looks to Steve, hoping that maybe Steve will help him explain this to Bucky. Steve doesn’t meet his eyes though. His eyes stay glued to the papers on the table.
“It’s not just money, Bucky,” Tony explains carefully, “Steve didn’t even want to marry me, okay? He did it as a favor for Howard. He did it because he thought it might save my life. He – he didn’t even like me at first!”
Bucky runs frustrated hands up and down his face. “Well, he likes you now. He loves you now! So why are you trying to divorce him?”
Tony feels a little annoyed. He’s annoyed that Steve is so quiet. He’s annoyed that Bucky isn’t just accepting this for the gift it is. He’s annoyed that he has to lay out his humiliation like this for everyone to see.
“This isn’t what Steve signed up for!” Tony yells, standing up so he can be face to face with Bucky. “I was supposed to die, okay? I promised him I’d die! Now I’m not coughing up flowers anymore – thanks to you, by the way – so why should Steve be punished for saving my life? If he had had a choice, he never would have married me in the first place. It isn’t fair for him to stay married to me when it’s obvious that he's only doing this because he loves—“
Tony cuts himself off before he can say ‘you.’
“What do mean, ‘thanks to me?’” Bucky asks after a long moment.
Tony sits down, regretting ever opening his mouth. “Nothing,” he says, rubbing his eyes with his fingers until he can see dull pops of color. “It’s… nothing.”
“It’s not nothing,” Steve says, apparently re-finding his ability to speak in that moment. “What do you mean that you don’t cough up flowers anymore ‘thanks to Bucky?’”
Tony looks at Steve, bewildered, more than anything, at why Steve isn’t jumping for joy. He turns to look at Bucky.
Bucky looks back at him, his arms crossed, silently waiting for Tony to answer Steve’s questions.
Tony looks at the both of the imploringly for a few moments. When that doesn’t seem to work, he sighs, reluctantly accepting the self-flagellation the two soldiers were asking from him.
“Bucky, I know you think you love me,” Tony starts. He finds he can’t bring himself to look at either of them. He stares at the middle-space on the table between him and the divorce papers. “You’re a good guy, a good man. I found you and I gave you an arm and a home and you saw me dying because of my love for Steve and…” Tony clears his throat, the weight of his guilt all coming up now that he’s speaking it out loud. “I know you meant well – you probably didn’t even do it consciously – but you know Steve loves you. There isn’t a thing Steve wouldn’t do for you – and I think you knew that.” Tony takes a desperate gulp of air.
He wonders if the tingle in his throat is real or imagined.
He wonders if this is how the wave will crash.
His wonders if his house will survive this.
“So you convinced yourself that you loved me,” he continues, his chest aching as he puts the truth to words. “And Steve would do anything to keep you, so Steve convinced himself that he loved me too.” He rubs at his chest, remembering how Yinsen had said that there was scarring on his lungs. A small huff of laughter escapes him at the memory. “Guess I’m lucky that the stupid disease doesn’t know any better.”
The silence this time is palpable.
Tony still can’t bring himself to look at either of them.
They’re good men, Tony knows this. They’ll probably deny it at first, but the truth of Tony’s words will stick with them. They’ll remember them when Tony becomes too much – when Tony reminds them exactly why Howard said he was unlovable for all those years. They’ll remember them when Steve is reminded why he hated Tony for so long.
The thought alone makes his chest clench.
Guilt rushes out from his lips, ruining the blessed silence.
“Sorry,” he says, and he’s trying his best not to shake. “I’ve known this all along and I just accepted your love because I’m such a fucking coward and – and I’m so sorry.” He brings his hand up to his face, but aborts mid-way when he can’t stop them from shaking. He doesn’t want to show Steve and Bucky exactly how pathetic he is. “I’m so stupidly in love with you, and I know I don’t deserve to be. I know I’m just taking advantage of your kindness and—“
“Tony, stop,” Steve says, cutting him off. He sounds devastated. “Please… stop.”
Tony looks up at him and is shocked to see him crying. Tony looks to Bucky, surprised by Steve’s tears. Bucky, thankfully, isn’t crying, but he looks close to it. His hand is gripping his metal arm so tightly that his knuckles are bone white.
A sob rips from Steve’s mouth and his face falls into his hands. His shoulders shake with the strength of his sobs.
“Is that what you’ve been thinking all this time?” Bucky asks, his voice strained with emotion. Tony watches a tear slip down Bucky’s perfect face and feels something akin to horror.
He stands up, wanting to go to comfort them, but stops mid-step. Maybe they wouldn’t want to be comforted by him. Maybe he should leave instead.
As if he can read Tony’s thoughts, Bucky steps in front of him, blocking his way out.
“You think I’m some sort of saint?” Bucky asks, his face devastated and angry and beautiful all the more for it. “Or you think I’m some whore who’ll fall in love with the first guy who’s nice to me?”
“No!” Tony says, horrified that Bucky would refer to himself like that. “Don’t say that, Bucky. You know I don’t think that.”
“Don’t you?” Bucky asks, and another tear falls down his face. From this distance, Tony can see the way Bucky’s lips tremble. “You think I’d fall in love with someone out of some twisted sense of obligation? You think I’d manipulate Steve like that?”
“No,” Tony says, looking down, his voice coming out smaller than he wants it to. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
Bucky wipes at his face violently, his eyes flashing. “No, the problem is that that’s exactly what you meant,” he says, his lips curling up in a snarl. “Is it really so hard to imagine that I might love you for you?”
Tony stays quiet. He doesn’t know how to answer honestly.
“I just didn’t understand it at first,” Bucky says, when it becomes obvious that Tony doesn’t have anything else to say. “Here you were, obviously one of the best looking guys I’ve ever seen, with this heart of gold. And you had so much love inside you that it was killing you. And I just – I just didn’t get how Steve couldn’t see it.” Bucky takes a step towards Tony, and it takes everything in Tony not to take a step back. “So I kept watching you. Trying to see if there was something I was missing. You’re right – I didn’t do it on purpose. I never meant to fall I love with you. I just kept watching you and watching you and you were so beautiful and funny and smart and understanding, and before I knew it, I wanted you so bad I thought it would kill me.”
“Okay,” Tony says, blinking hard against the burning in his eyes. It’s everything he’s ever wanted to hear from Bucky, but the words do nothing to relieve the aching in his chest, the guilt in his throat. “Thank you.”
Bucky lets out a frustrated yell and turns to punch the wall.
“What can I say,” he shouts, bits of wall crumbling to the ground, “What can I say to make you believe me?”
Tony doesn’t have an honest answer for him so he runs to hide in his workshop.
All things considered, it really shouldn’t come as a surprise, but it still takes Tony a little off guard when Steve enters the workshop.
It’s probably been a little more than ten hours since they had that blowup in the dining room, but Steve’s nose is still red like he’s been crying, and the air about him is sad in a way Tony can’t quite put his finger on.
Still, Steve offers Tony a small smile, and Tony returns it. A part of him is hoping that Steve will take the cowards way out and pretend nothing happened. The realistic part of him knows better than to hope.
His house is already crumbling down.
“Hey,” Steve says softly, “You going to come up for bed?”
The question takes Tony by surprise. He blinks up at Steve. “Oh, I thought… I thought maybe I’d sleep here tonight.”
Steve’s face shutters with something Tony can’t read. It’s a new expression. Tony’s pretty sure he’s never seen it on Steve’s face before.
“Tony… Bucky’s not mad at you. I’m not mad at you. We want you in our bed.”
“Oh, I know!” Tony says, agreeing quickly. “I don’t think Bucky would kick me out of bed or anything. I was thinking maybe you and Bucky would want more time to talk about what you guys might want to do after our divorce.”
“Tony,” Steve says, his voice breaking on Tony’s name. “I don’t want a divorce.”
Tony’s pretty sure he’s gaping like a fish. “Steve, what are you saying?” he asks. “Of course you want a divorce. You’ve wanted—“
“Tony,” Steve interrupts, “do you want a divorce?”
Tony doesn’t know how to answer that question honestly so he stays quiet.
Steve sighs and walks right up to Tony. He bends down and slips one arm under Tony’s arms and another right under his knees. “I don’t want to talk about this tonight,” Steve says, lifting Tony up in a bridal carry like he weighs nothing at all. “Let’s go to bed, okay?”
Tony nods. “Okay,” he says, “But you can let me down. I can walk you know. It’s not like I’m going to run away or anything.”
Steve holds Tony closer and buries his nose in Tony’s hair. “Humor me,” he says, “I want to carry you.”
He carries Tony up two flights of stairs and lays him gently in bed. Bucky is waiting for them, only in his sleep shorts, his shirt already off.
“Took you long enough,” Bucky grumbles, throwing an arm over Tony and pulling him close.
Steve slides in behind him, his nose grazing Tony’s ear, his hand running lazy circles on Tony’s stomach.
Everything feels so normal.
Tony feels the guilt pour into him again. Threatening to drown him.
He’s just about to jump out of bed, if only just to be able to breathe, when Steve begins to speak.
His voice is low and gentle and steady and it keeps the guilt at bay. It gives Tony just enough room so he might expand his chest and fill his lungs.
He says, “I was so angry when they first found me. Everything felt so unfair. For me, everything was still so fresh – the war, the commandos, losing Bucky – but the only connection I had left to any of those things was Howard Stark.”
He says, “I didn’t hate you at first, Tony.”
He says, “You made me feel things. You were so handsome and smart and funny and, and I couldn’t stand that because I was still so in love with Bucky. I couldn’t accept that someone other than Bucky could make my heart race.”
He says, “Hating you – convincing myself that you were every bad thing I ever heard about you was easier than living with the feeling that I was somehow betraying Bucky every time I saw you.”
He says, “I think a part of me couldn’t believe someone like you could actually be in love with me.”
He says, “I thought maybe if I treated you horribly enough, you’d fall out of love with me.”
Steve’s tears are hot and Tony can feel them as they fall into his hair.
“And I did treat you horribly, I did, but you kept loving me and it made me feel so guilty and angry and – and then you found Bucky.”
Tony can’t tell whether he’s shaking or if Steve is shaking. All he knows is that Bucky is firm and steady, so he holds onto Bucky like a lifeline.
His house can’t withstand this. The waves are crashing and crashing and—
“You found Bucky and I loved Bucky and I was so glad to have him back, and I couldn’t even thank you for it because I was still having these feelings for you and I was so angry about them. I was so angry with you for loving me despite everything and I hated myself for – for being so attracted to you even though Bucky was right in front of me—“
Tony feels… he doesn’t know what he feels. He feels despair and anger and hope and it all hurts.
It all hurts.
“—And Bucky noticed it. He said he was attracted to you too, and at first I thought he was just trying to, I don’t know, please me or something, and that made me feel so guilty and angry, so I took it out on you.”
Tony remembers. Steve telling him to leave Bucky alone. Steve saying out loud that he’d been waiting for Tony to die. Tony thinks those words will play in the back of his mind for the rest of his life.
Steve is quiet for a few shaky breaths.
Tony finds he can’t breathe at all.
“I never apologized,” Steve says. “I never apologized for all the unforgivable things I said and did, and I never thanked you for loving me when I was unlovable. I never thanked you for loving me – for being kind to me – even when I didn’t deserve it.”
Tony has to sit up then. He has to get out of bed – if only just to breathe. Because he can’t breathe. He can’t.
“Stop,” he gasps, “I don’t—You can’t—This is—“
Steve and Bucky sit up on the bed and watch him. Tony didn’t notice before, but tears are streaming down Bucky’s face. Nothing makes sense. He doesn’t understand.
“I’ve been a coward,” Steve says, his voice stronger now. “I didn’t want to face everything I’d done to you so I ignored it. I thought that maybe if I could just show you how much I love you now, it would… I don’t know… make up for it somehow.” Steve stands then, and he steps towards Tony slowly, like maybe Tony is a scared animal and sudden movement might frighten him. “I didn't realize how much you were still hurting - no - I didn't want to realize it, Tony. I'm so sorry. I know it’s unfair to ask you to believe me now, but I love you so much, Tony Stark, and I promise I’ll spend the rest of my life being the husband you deserve if you give me the chance.”
Tony takes a step back. He can’t breathe and he can’t feel his legs and Steve is saying everything Tony’s ever wanted to hear but it can’t be—
Arms like iron bars catch him when he stumbles on his own feet and falls backwards. The chest he lands on is strong and broad and solid.
“Shh, it’s okay, doll,” Bucky says, pulling Tony up into his arms and nosing at his temple. He takes Tony back to bed and sits him down between his legs. “It’s okay. Breathe. I love you. Steve loves you. Breathe.” Bucky’s chest is firm and Tony is boneless against it. Bucky’s hand runs soothing strokes up and down Tony’s arms. Bucky’s hand is a gentle pressure on Tony’s chest.
“Bucky—,“ Tony says, and it comes out like a sob and Tony doesn’t even know why he called his name, only that it feels like a lifeline and Tony’s drowning and desperate.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Bucky says, pressing soft kisses to Tony’s temple. “I love you. Steve loves you. You were hurting and we didn’t know, but it’s going to be okay now. I have you. We have you. I love you. Steve loves you. It’s okay, it’s okay,”
Tony turns in Bucky’s arms, buries his face in Bucky’s chest, and rides out the storm.
“I love you. Steve loves you. It’s all going to be okay.”
No storm lasts forever.
The morning comes and Tony finds his house still standing.
“Morning,” Steve says, his voice still sleep rough. He shuffles closer to Tony and throws his arm over him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I love you.”
Tony laughs, because everything feels so normal and real and it’s so absurd given the shit show that’s been the last twenty-four hours. He pushes Steve away, but Steve resists and peppers more kisses onto Tony’s face.
“I love you, I love you,” Steve says between kisses.
“I get it, I get it!” Tony laughs, “You’ve made your point!”
“Nah, I don’t think I have,” Steve says with a little laugh of his own, but before he can attack Tony’s face with any more kisses, strong arms bodily move Tony to the other side of the bed.
“Leave Tony alone, you big lug,” Bucky mumbles sleepily.
“Aw, come on, Buck,” Steve says, scooting closer and reaching for Tony.
Tony feels more than sees Bucky back kick at Steve.
“You’re on a Tony embargo,” Bucky says, “Dollface over here might be nice enough to forgive you, but I sure as hell won’t.”
Tony laughs again. It feels surreal to have everything out in the open. To be able to talk about it without it choking him.
He turns in Bucky’s embrace. He kisses Bucky’s chin because he can.
“Nothing to forgive,” he says. He reaches over Bucky to grab Steve’s hand.
“Nuh uh,” Bucky says, and he raises his arm to break Tony and Steve’s handhold. “Stevie’s not gonna get outta this easy. I think he should probably start with breakfast in bed. What are you feeling? Waffles? Eggs? Bacon?”
Tony laughs.
He feels light. Guilt might be watching from the door, but it’s the farthest away it’s been from him since this thing with Bucky and Steve started, and right now, Tony can’t find it in himself to worry about it.
“Who am I supposed to get forgiveness from, huh?” Steve grumbles, “Tony or you?” But he’s already getting out of bed and putting a shirt on. He walks over to Tony’s side and leans down to press a kiss to Tony’s cheek. “I’ll get some coffee started, you think about what you want to eat.”
Bucky shoves Steve’s face away with his fingers and wraps his arms around Tony’s head protectively. “We’ll decide whether you deserve any more Tony kisses after coffee,” he says magnanimously.
Steve snorts a laugh. “The royal ‘we,’ huh?” he asks, but he presses a kiss to Bucky’s brow and leaves the room.
Bucky’s hold on his head loosens when Steve leaves the room.
Tony tilts his head up to look at him.
“Hey dummy,” Bucky says when their eyes meet. “I love you – and not in some weird self-sacrificing way – but in the, you have eye boogers and your hair looks like a bird’s nest but I still want to have sex with you, kind of way. You got that?”
Tony snorts and tries to bring his hands to his head to fix his hair, but Bucky doesn't let him. He feels a little embarrassed but mostly, he feels surprised with himself at how much he believes Bucky’s words.
“Oh, you love me in that way,” he says with a roll of his eyes, “Why didn’t you say that before? Could’ve saved me a lot of confusion.”
“Thought you already knew,” Bucky says, “You know, with you being a genius and all.”
Bucky gets that look in his eyes again then, the one that makes Tony feel like he might be the best thing Bucky will see all day.
“Yeah, I guess should have known, huh?” he asks distractedly, a little lost in that look on Bucky’s face.
Bucky searches his face, stopping for a half second at Tony’s lips before leaning down to kiss them.
“Yeah,” he whispers, “You should have.”
Unfortunately, everything doesn’t just magically get better.
Obie tries to kill him.
Bucky and Steve beat the shit out of Obie and Obie gets a broken arm, a broken nose, and life in federal prison for attempted murder and, oh, working with actual terrorists.
Stark Industries takes another nose-dive after that revelation, and Tony spends most of his time working with public relation firms to try to save the company’s image.
His relationship isn't perfect either.
Sometimes he’ll still flinch if Steve looks at him a certain way. Sometimes he’ll still find himself drowning in insecurity and guilt and it’ll be hard to breathe. He’s working on it.
Not everything is shit though.
He hires a personal assistant. Her name is Virgina Pepper Potts, and she’s scarily efficient. Both Bucky and Steve develop a healthy fear-based respect for her, and it’s funny to watch them stand up straighter whenever she enters the room.
Honestly, it’s the busiest and most stressful time in Tony’s life.
But he’s never been happier.
No matter what shit-show goes down during the day, he gets to go home to two good men who love him, and it feels too good to be true sometimes.
Sometimes he runs up the stairs from the garage to the kitchen just because he can. Just to make sure he can still breathe. Just to make sure it’s all still real.
“Hey,” he says, a little breathless from his sprint up the stairs.
Steve looks up from where he’s cutting up some vegetables on the kitchen island. His face breaks out into a huge smile when he sees Tony.
“Welcome home,” Steve says.
Tony walks up to him and presses a kiss to his cheek. “Glad to be home,” he says. He looks around the kitchen. “Where’s Bucky?”
“He’s out in the garden,” Steve answers, “I wanted some fresh basil to go with dinner tonight.”
“Mm, what a man,” Tony says dreamily. “Going outdoors to get us some fresh basil.”
Steve laughs and rinses his hands before grabbing Tony and pulling him close. “What about me, huh?” he asks, “Do I get some admiration? Slaving away in the kitchen to make my hardworking husband dinner and all.”
Tony laughs and slaps away Steve’s wandering hands that are trying to get under his work shirt. “Oh, how could I forget?” he teases, “My captain, slaving away in the kitchen, for little ole me. Hold me, I’m about to swoon.”
Steve buries his face in Tony’s neck and blows a raspberry at his pulse. Tony laughs and tries to get away.
It’s… easy.
Unbelievably so.
“Hey, what’s going on here?” Bucky says, walking into the kitchen. He has some scissors in one hand and a handful of green in the other.
Steve leans back and looks down at Tony. He smiles at him as if they’re sharing a secret.
Tony smiles back.
He knows where his house is built.