“I’ve learned from the best Stark,
you’re a shockingly good teacher.”
somehow it’s easier to fall into a give and take that’s dangerously close to fighting. it works better that way. that and in the end he still isn’t sure how to act around tony given how intertwined the stark have been in his life. steve is more than certain it’d be easier if they just hated each other, but —
“He was a good man, one of my only friends, I won’t fault him for being a terrible father.” the bags of food are dropped unceremoniously atop the nearest mess. it’s as close to lashing out as he gets these days. “You turned out alright, Stark.” to his credit, he’s kinder when it comes to the coffee, clearing away a spot to set it down before grabbing a stool as if he’d been invited in. rhodey’s warnings ring distantly in his head but it’s brushed aside as he leans forward to examine the careful work going on. it just looks like a mess of wires if he’s honest.
“You still need to eat some time this week.”
you look like death warmed over.
“Unless you want me to come back and get Natasha to convince you.”
you bet your ass he’s smiling into his coffee.
He’s so tired of circling the Howard Stark Fan Club every time he has a conversation about his father. Because the thing is, the thing is: Tony doesn’t blame him for being a terrible father, either. It’d be easier if he did, and a hell of a lot less important to him if he did, but he doesn’t.
Howard was a brilliant man, and he did so many things, created so many things that improved the world. It’s a monumental set of shoes to fill, it’s a legacy hanging over his head that sometimes feels like the Sword of Damocles, but he’d be damned if he’d have it any other way. Sure, it’d be nice to have more god memories than bad when it comes to the personal shit, but Steve’s right: he turned out alright. More than that, if Howard had been a better father, a better husband, a better part of their family, he has no doubt that the world would have suffered for it.
Tony loves his father, and he always has. It’s hard not to, and God knows he’s tried, but that’s the simple, inalienable truth. He loves and respects him, and more than that, he understands why Howard was the way that he was.
Doesn’t mean he wants to have a heart-to-heart with Spangly Britches about it, or that he feels obligated to to give him a hall pass to comment on shit that’s, frankly, none of his business.
Tony finally looks up, lower lip caught between his teeth, and regards Steve moodily.
“Are you finished? Because. Busy here.” He gestures to the work laid out in front of him, casual insolence in his expression and tone, designed to get under Steve’s skin. “As fun as this conversation is, I was over it, like, five minutes ago.”
Before it even started. Before Steve ever rose back up from the grave and imposed himself on Tony, on his life, on his career.
“And unless you can prove you’re more useful than my bots, which is not a -- it’s not a tall bar to leap, if we’re talking Dum-E here, but I get the feeling you’d still trip -- your presence is so not necessary. Especially if you’re going to nag. I have enough naggers in my life, thank you very much.”
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