for amelioraate

[gotup]

[ He hasn't seen Tony since Siberia. Talked to him on the phone once or twice to negotiate their return, yeah, texted a few times, but in person? Nothing. Not that Steve's been allowed to see anyone. He has his own floor in the tower, and everyone's being very careful to say that none of them are prisoners, but guess what? They're prisoners.

To be fair, it's a nice prison, with pretty much every cable channel invented by man, high-speed internet, the works. His food's delivered - possibly by a robot, Steve isn't really sure, it just sort of shows up in the fridge and all he has to do is microwave it, and he suspects that robots do everything around here because he sure hasn't seen a human being.

(He hasn't seen any robots, either, apart from the little vacuum robot, and it's a sign of how desperate he is that he's starting to think of it like a pet. Especially when it gets confused and runs into the wall repeatedly.

Yeah, Steve's pretty sure he's cracking up.)

All of his negotiations are conducted via terse emails with various government officials, who a) are incensed that he refuses to sign the Accords (he read them, okay? it's not just turning control of the Avengers over to a UN panel) and b) can't believe that he isn't even remotely apologetic for everything he's done, won't even try to deny that he did it. He's glad Bucky's untouchable back in Wakanda, safely tucked away in one of T'challa's cryogenic pods. He has the king's word that nothing will happen to him, and from what Steve's seen, T'challa would rather die than break his word.

Steve's starting to wish he was back there, too. He'd mainly come back to try and repair things with Tony - to fix everything, but it's his splintered friendship that hurts the most - but Tony won't even come near him. He doesn't blame him, figures it's exactly what he deserves. Tony can keep the shield and the costume; they don't matter to him. They were only ever just a symbol. They'd started life as propaganda, and they can end that way. He just wants to be Steve Rogers, but he's not even sure he'll be allowed that much. ]

Comments

[amelioraate]

[ That-- that isn't a lie. Tony wishes it were a lie, that there was something less than honesty in Steve's voice because this? This feels too much like forgiveness and Tony-- Tony isn't sure he deserves that. Isn't sure that he can handle being forgiven, he has been with this weight of guilt for so long, he thinks it might be the only thing keeping him tied to the ground but now.

Now he apparently has Steve's arms around him and fuck. Steve's arms aren't enough to keep him together, not this time. Tony shatters apart; it starts as nothing, a hitch in his breathing as Steve sets them down on the couch and then-- then there are hands in his hair and fuck it, Tony's done, fraying at the seams and shaking apart with silent noises of grief and guilt and relief as he collapses in on himself.

I'm here.

And fuck if Tony didn't want him to just stay.]

[gotup]

[ So Steve had largely been brought up with the notion that men don't cry, that they didn't express any feelings like sadness and grief and anything that would have made them appear less than perfectly normal. And he knows that's not how things are today, and he's perfectly okay with that. Hell, he thinks it's great that men can admit to things and get help and that his fellow veterans can say that war's broken them into pieces and not be called cowards. But at the same time- at the same time, he'd grown up with all the pain and illness and pretending so hard that he was all right was the only thing he could do to look normal. People expected the scrawny, sickly kid to cry going through treatments, or when they pounded him into the mud, and he just didn't.

Which is why he feels intensely awkward when Tony starts sobbing, because, hell, how do you deal with someone falling apart in your arms? But this is probably exactly what he signed up for when he gathered him up in the first place, something he was aware of on some level, and so Steve- Steve does what he does best; he's a solid rock of comfort, an anchor for Tony to cling to until he's cried himself out. He's just there, holding Tony in his arms. ]

[amelioraate]

[ It doesn't last long, Tony is burnt out an hollow and is surprised he had the energy for that (can't help but think fuck you, Howard in his head because steel in their spine indeed). And it doesn't take long for Tony to become... awkward. Like now that the energy is gone, the fury and the hurt bled from him, he has nothing left to keep him upright. Steve's arms feel like a cage and there is panic just out of reach to him but--

He presses his face against Steve's shoulder and lets out a shaky breath.] I kind of hate you, but not at all you know.

[ The words are barely formed, almost silent, but he knows Steve hears him. Wonders if he understands what he means by it. ]

[gotup]

[ Once Tony's done crying, Steve gingerly lets his arms fall away, hoping that it's not the only thing holding Tony together. It feels...surprisingly comfortable, sitting here like this with Tony, or it would if one of them wasn't emotionally drained and the other wasn't just really confused about everything. But he likes the way Tony's face feels pressed against his shoulder, and he really isn't sure he wants to devote too much thought to that right now, because maybe it's just because he's every bit as touch-starved as Tony.

That's probably it. And there definitely isn't a corner of his brain that thinks about how nice it would be to just curl up and sleep like this. ]

You're goddamn crazy, Tony.

[ But there's a laugh underneath that. He gets it, sort of. Or he thinks he does. ]

[amelioraate]

[ This was a stupid choice, really, Tony knew that there was no way this wouldn't end in disaster as soon as he realized whose floor he was trapped on but-- well Steve hasn't punched him and he hasn't punched Steve so maybe they were winning at this point. Maybe. There is a shaky huff of laughter against Steve's shoulder at this words but Tony doesn't move from his spot.

He should, he knows he should, but fuck he is tired.]

No shit. But I am fucking brilliant at it at least.

[ His voice is raw, a little cracked open, and he sounds hollowed out, but the weary edge of hurt seems to have been rubbed away. It was-- well it was something. ]

[gotup]

[ He leans back against the couch, exhausted, brings an arm up to tug Tony along with him without thinking. For the first time in days, Steve actually feels like maybe he could fall asleep and not have his slumber interrupted by nightmares. Wouldn't that be a novelty? God knows it hasn't happened much since he was defrosted. ]

I'm not sure that's something to be proud of.

[ But he's right. Steve's done a little research on the side, looked up all of Tony's public, messy crashes. Every one of them has made his heart hurt, because he can see how much it kills Tony a little more every time, how he's been driven to where he is now. It's dumb, but he wants to just- gather him up and keep him safe from the world.

(Tony would hate that so much.) ]

[amelioraate]

[ Blinking at the tug, Tony goes with the movement at first, too tired and wrung out to really process what is happening. Steve is... warm. Warm and solid and fuck, Tony missed him. He knew that there was still so much between them, so many things that needed to be dealt with and probably a hundred more fights and miscommunications and screaming matches on Tony's part to go through but, for now... yeah Tony could handle this.

He is a little stiff under Steve's arm, wary about the casual affection that seems to be in the movement, but he knows that if he tries to get up and leave right now, no good will come of it. And, maybe if he was honest with himself, he could say he wants this. Someone to actually care. He wants to believe Steve.]

Hey, gotta rock what you've got, right? I've got insanity in droves, along with messy explosions and a knack for numbers. Whatever works, right?

[ Tony would never respond well to being kept safe, mainly because he is the one thing he needs to be kept safe from most of the time. ]

[gotup]

[ Steve knows it too, but right now he can't even remember the last time he had honest to god human contact and Tony is a warm weight on his chest that feels kind of comforting. It's confusing if he tries to think about it too hard, so he just doesn't, closes his eyes and relaxes, even though all his muscles are so tense that they probably feel like they're still frozen in ice.

(Sometimes Steve feels like he's still frozen in ice, too.) ]

You wouldn't know what to do if you weren't being a smartass.

[ Fall to pieces, apparently, if his display earlier is any indication. ]

[amelioraate]

[ It is a little strange if he thinks about it, how he has gone from half wanting to punch Steve to being pressed up against his side and-- fuck, he should move. He should leave, this was such a dumb idea and yet-- yet he can't seem to make himself get up and leave right now. And not just because Steve was warm and comfortable and very much there after spending so long with just metal and robots, but-- it was like he wanted Tony there and that was not something that the genius expected.

Tony can feel Steve speaking, can feel the rumble in his chest, notes how Steve still seems a little high strung around the edges like he doesn't know how to let go of the tension and Tony gets that. But he doesn't know how to help Steve, so he just-- breathes deep and melts a little more against the blond.

He could always claim temporary insanity and drunkenness tomorrow.]

That is the core of who I am, yes. So being a smartass or blowing shit up, take your pick.

[gotup]

[ Steve's actually starting to feel drowsy, and some deeply buried part of him wonders how much Tony would resist if he just picked him up and carried him to bed. Except then he'd startle and run away (or get the wrong idea entirely), so it's probably best to just stay here. ]

I think that's probably an and, Tony. Not an or.

[ What he's really thinking is that Tony uses the sharp edge of his words to keep people at bay, that it's just another one of the masks he wears, one of the walls. That he wants to see the real Tony, but he knows the other man is too vulnerable, too afraid to ever do that. That he might have, once, before everything fell apart, but now things are different.

His words are starting to slur together a little, and maybe if he just lets his eyes close for a moment- ]

[amelioraate]

[ There is a look cast sideways to the blond, Tony somewhat curious and maybe a little confused as how easily Steve seems to let his guard down around him. How he seems okay just-- sitting here with Tony half on top of him, after sobbing at him and... what the fuck was even going on. But Tony is finding it hard to think, the fog of too little sleep and too much alcohol and Steve's warmth settling into his bones so he just... goes with it.

When Steve speaks of both, Tony does the only thing that comes to mind, he turns his head just a little and bites Steve.]

The two are not mutually inclusive.

[ He tires for sounding standoffish, but it falls a little short. There is a moment, or three, where Tony just stays there against the blond. Lets the sound of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest lull him into a trance like state before her jerks out of with a twitch. Tony shakes his head and sits up.]

Uh...I should...go. Steve? [ Tony blinks, realizing that the blond is actually sleeping and... oh... ]

[gotup]

[ Steve is out cold for once, and his head tips slightly till his chin is resting against the top of Tony's head. He stays that way for a solid few hours, holding Tony close to his chest. ]