This was originally a drabble prompt that I just couldn't stop writing! For the anon who asked for presumed dead Steve coming back with established relationship stevetony. This comes in at around 3k. I hope you enjoy!
Read it on ao3 here!
---
In any life, the unknown variable is time - you never know how much you have. In Tony’s life, his own personal unknown variable has always been Steve - Tony never knew how much he needed him until it was too late.
now
“No,” Tony says when they tell him. “No, it was a routine mission! Steve said he would be back tonight. Now come on, where is he? I mean, this is hilarious and all, but I’d really like my boyfriend back right about now.”
“Tony…” Natasha says quietly, looking up at him through red-rimmed eyes. “He’s not coming back.”
Tony shakes his head frantically, backing away until he trips over his feet and falls into the nearest chair.
“No, there has to be some mistake,” Tony protests. “Maybe you didn’t see what you thought you saw, maybe Steve’s on his way back right now! JARVIS, call Steve,” he says, and they all listen as the phone rings and rings before it goes to voicemail, Steve’s voice politely telling them that he’d get back to them as soon as possible.
Except he wouldn’t, because...
Tony cuts off the thought because he can’t accept it, he won’t even think it, because it’s not true, it can’t be.
“Tony, I need you to listen to me,” Rhodey says, his voice soft and gentle. “Steve’s not coming back. He’s not coming back because he’s-”
“No!” Tony says, holding up a hand. He’s shaking all over and he feels like his heart is slowly splintering to pieces and he can’t think, he can’t breathe.
He doesn’t want to without Steve.
earlier the same morning
“OK honey, I really do have to get up now,” Steve says.
Tony grumbles as Steve attempts to roll out of bed for what might be the third? fourth? fifth? time that morning, only to be stopped yet again as Tony grabs Steve around the waist and crawls over him, effectively laying on top of him.
“But we’re only just getting started,” Tony protests, trailing his fingers along Steve’s collarbone teasingly and grinning as Steve involuntarily tips his head back with a groan, his fingers tightening on Tony’s waist. “I have plans, Steve! Sexy, sexy plans! You love my plans! And here you are ditching me for SHIELD?”
Steve sighs, rolling them until he is hovering over Tony. He kisses Tony, tonguing him deep and thorough, and Tony can’t help opening up for him, leaning up into Steve and drinking him in. When they finally come up for air, Tony is left breathless and aching for more, his chest heaving as Steve smiles down at him and brushes his fingers through his hair.
“I love you,” Steve tells him seriously, “and I do love your plans and I wish I could stay.” Tony opens his mouth but Steve shakes his head, gently putting his fingers to Tony’s lips. “But,” Steve continues quietly, “I do need to be there. I’ll be back before you know it.”
Tony looks at him deflates, because he knows how Steve gets when he’s made up his mind about something. “But it’s a routine mission,” he protests. “Nat and Rhodey will be there…”
“And so will I,” Steve says. “It may only be symbolic but I think I should be there too.”
Tony sighs and rolls his eyes fondly. “All right,” he agrees, “if that moral compass of yours is telling you to go, go.”
Steve shakes his head and kisses him and it’s a quick press of lips to lips, chaste but no less passionate. “You love it,” Steve says, and Tony can’t help grinning in response because it’s true, it’s so true and he never wants it to stop.
“I love you ,” Tony tells him, and Steve smiles.
“I’ll be back before you know it,” he says. “We can watch one of those crappy science fiction movies you love to pick apart and order take out and curl up on the couch, how does that sound?”
“It sounds amazing,” Tony answers honestly, and suddenly all he can think about is that he could do this every day for the rest of his life and never stop wanting more. He wants every day with Steve, and the scary thing is, the thought isn’t as terrifying as it should be.
“Then it’s a date,” Steve says, and Tony can only smile in response because now they have plans , Steve and Tony have plans together , and really, that’s all Tony could ever ask for.
“I’ll plan on it,” Tony says, and he lets Steve go, knowing that he will see him again soon.
now
Tony pulls himself out of the memory and sobs, his shoulders shaking as tears stream down his face. He hiccups and turns his face into the pillow, Steve’s pillow, to find that it still smells like him, like leather and sweat and home.
The thought just makes Tony cry even more, sobs wracking his body as he curls in on himself, because the pain in his chest too much to bear.
He should have put up more of a fight, he can’t help thinking. If he had just been able to convince Steve to stay behind, Steve would be home right now, but Tony didn’t try hard enough to keep Steve here, to keep him safe, and now…
He has no one to blame but himself.
six months ago
The tipping point comes when Tony takes a hit meant for Steve in the middle of a battle.
They’re fighting killer robots gone rogue, and it’s messy and impossible and Tony can’t be in ten places at once but he is keeping an eye on the team as best he can.
He’s just checking in on Steve when he sees a killer robot taking aim for Steve as his back is turned while he’s fighting off three other robots. Steve doesn’t see it but Tony does and his mind goes blank with rage because Steve Rogers can’t die like this, he won’t allow it.
Tony swoops in between them, his gauntlets raised, but the blast meant for Steve slams into him before he can fire, throwing him backwards and sending him rolling before crushing him into the ground at Steve’s feet.
He thinks he must pass out for a minute because he comes around to the sound of Steve yelling his name frantically, and Steve sounds scared , like Tony’s never heard him sound before.
“Ow,” Tony manages, coughing weakly as he releases the faceplate. “That was a good hit, Cap, but I’m fine, see? Are we good?”
Steve’s face contorts and Tony can read the conflict in his face, all of his fear, anger, rage, and worry laid bare as his hands inspect the damage.
“We are not good,” Steve bites out, his voice shaking, “we are very not good, how could you do that, Tony, how could you…”
“Save your life?” Tony quips, wincing as he pushes himself up to a sitting position.
“I was fine, Tony!” Steve protests. “I was fine, I had it under control, and you…” he shakes his head, scrubbing a hand across his face. “You can’t take that risk for me, I don’t deserve it. You’re you, and I’m…”
“Steve, listen to me,” Tony says desperately, grabbing Steve’s hands when he starts to turn away. “It’s not about what we deserve, okay? If it was, none of us would be here. It’s about what we believe. And I… well, since I met you, I believe in love.”
Steve is staring at him, wide-eyed and breathless, but his anger seems to have faded and he’s no longer shouting, so Tony presses on. “So don’t ask me not to save your life,” he says, “because if you’re not there, I can’t, I can’t…” He breaks off in a strangled sob and Steve kneels down in front of him, cupping his face with gentle hands.
“You love me,” Steve says wonderingly, his eyes searching Tony’s.
Tony stares at him, and suddenly his mouth is dry, his breath echoing loud in his ears. He’s terrified, more terrified than he’s ever been, but he looks into Steve’s eyes and he knows it’s safe to fall, because Steve will be waiting to catch him.
“I do,” Tony says, and then Steve’s lips are on his, and it’s perfect, it’s everything Tony dreamed it could be, only it’s better, because now he knows that Steve wants it too.
“I love you,” Steve whispers against his lips, and Tony is gone, he’s falling, but it’s ok because he knows that Steve is falling too.
now
The room is bathed in shadow when Tony startles awake. He frowns up at the ceiling - somewhere between one heartbeat and the next he’d fallen asleep, the brief reprise from consciousness a welcome change from the constant feeling that his heart was being torn from his chest.
Tony rolls over and buried his face in Steve’s pillow, inhaling deeply and letting his eyes slide closed. If he thinks hard enough, he can almost imagine that Steve is there with him, laughing as he putters around the bathroom. He can almost imagine that if he opens his eyes, he would see Steve there, his smile bright as he crawls back into bed. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” Steve would whisper to him, “I’m here.”
Tony can imagine all of this and more, he can imagine it as much as he wants, but he’s just starting to realize that it will never happen because Steve is gone. He’s gone for good, and Tony will never hear him laugh or see his smile again. He’ll never fall asleep in Steve’s arms, he’ll never wake up beside him again.
They won’t get to do all the things they had planned, and it’s not just a stupid movie night they’ll never have - they’ll never build a house just for them, they’ll never travel the world, they’ll never raise a family together, they’ll never grow old and wrinkled together.
And Tony didn’t realize how much he wanted it. Until this moment, he’d always thought that romantic, picture-perfect fairytale life wasn’t for good for him, and that he was no good for it. He’d thought that anyone he would try to build that kind of life with would just resent him in the end.
But he always knew that Steve thought he was good enough. Steve didn’t want that life with anyone else but Tony, even if he’d never said as much, and suddenly Tony finds himself wondering what if . They would have been good together, he thinks, but now they’ll never know.
He lets out a strangled sob and covers his face with his hands and then there’s a knock on the door. He hiccups and glares at the door, hoping that if he doesn’t respond, whoever it is will simply go away and leave him alone. Unfortunately, he is not so lucky. The knocking continues, getting louder and more insistent until it suddenly cuts off and there’s a faint scraping sound before the door slides open.
“I’d say I’m sorry for breaking in,” Natasha says, sliding her knife away, “but you know what, I don’t think I am. You look like shit, Stark.”
“Hey,” Tony protests half-heartedly. “Aren’t you supposed to be all mushy and have sympathy for the grieving or something like that?”
Natasha shrugs, coming over to the bed and curling up next to Tony, her back against the wall. “I tried that once,” she says, “it’s overrated. I just hadn’t seen you ever since…” She trails off, her eyes darting to Tony’s face. Her face is blotchy and exhausted, her hair is tied up in a messy bun, and she’s got on a pair of tattered sweats as though she couldn’t be bothered to do anything else. Tony knows the feeling.
“Are you okay?” Natasha asks, and it’s the question Tony’s been dreading, it’s the question he knew would be coming since they first told him what had happened.
He sighs, rubs at his nose with the sleeve of his shirt. “Are you?” he asks.
“I miss him,” Natasha tells him quietly, an admission Tony has hardly ever heard her make.
“Me too,” he says.
They sit there in the darkness, neither of them saying a word as the minutes continue to tick by. Steve is gone, and all they can do is help each other through it.
hours later
Some time later, the rest of the team has joined Tony and Natasha in their silent vigil. They are all sprawled together on the bed, not saying a word, just finding comfort in their closeness.
Tony stirs and accidentally elbows Bruce, who snuffles and mumbles something inaudible in his sleep before settling back down, his breaths slowly evening out again.
Tony feels like crap, there’s no nice way to put it. His muscles are aching from lying in an unnatural position all day, his head is throbbing, and his throat feels sticky with bile, his tongue sandpaper dry. He groans and stretches, feeling his elbow pop in protest.
He sighs and scrubs a hand over his face, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. He supposes the pain should be a relief - a reminder that even with everything that has happened, he is still here. Unfortunately, at the same time, he’s also reminded that Steve isn’t, and he’s racked with an entirely different kind of pain.
His eyes burn with tears as the thought slams into him, and he fights them back with a sniff. Fight through the pain, he’s always said, and he doesn’t intend to stop any time soon.
Tony crawls over to the side of the bed across the tangle of his teammates. Natasha stirs and raises an eyebrow at him, and he just shakes his head. “Getting some water,” he whispers.
“You okay?” she asks.
“Fine,” he says, because he really doesn’t have the words to explain how he’s feeling right now.
Thankfully, Natasha doesn’t press him on it. She simply puts a gentle hand on his shoulder and gives him a sad smile. “If you need anything…” she says.
“I know where to find you,” Tony says..
He makes his way to the kitchen, snagging a sweater from the couch on his way to the sink. It’s Steve’s sweater, he realizes with a pang, the one Steve had offered to Tony the previous night when he saw that Tony was cold, because that’s just the kind of person Steve was. He’s the kind of person who would make you hot chocolate in the middle of the night and offer you the sweater off of his back if it looked like you might be shivering, he’s the kind of person who would do everything he could for the people he loves.
Too late, Tony realizes that he was still thinking about Steve in the present tense - he still can’t quite wrap his head around the idea of living in a world where Steve Rogers is dead. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to it.
He stumbles over to the sink and runs the faucet until it’s cold enough for him to splash some water on his face. He’s still leaning over the sink, with water dripping into his eyes and down his nose, when he hears the telltale ding of the penthouse elevator sliding open, and that’s when he looks up to see Steve standing there in front of him.
“You’re not real,” Tony says numbly, because Steve is dead, they told them he was dead, and Tony had started to believe that he was dead. This was just his grief-addled brain making up what he wanted to see, this wasn’t real.
Not real , Tony tells himself firmly, as he wipes his face dry with a towel. Not real .
“Tony?” not-real Steve says, his voice full of worry. “Are you okay?”
“Am I…” Tony snorts and shakes his head. “Of course, if I made up a delusion of my dead boyfriend that’s exactly what he would say.”
“Tony, you’re scaring me,” not-real Steve says, hurrying over to Tony’s side. “It’s me, I’m here. Let me help.”
Tony looks up at him. For a delusion, it’s not bad, Tony decides - he looks exactly like Steve did when he’d just come back from a long mission, his suit battered and torn, his face smudged with dirt and lined with exhaustion, his shoulders sagging with strain. And his eyes… his eyes are the same clear blue as Steve’s had been, and their keen gaze piercing into Tony’s very soul like they always had.
And Tony wants to indulge in the fantasy that Steve is here, but he knows that it’s not real, because Steve is dead.
“You’re not real,” Tony repeats to himself, like a mantra. “Steve Rogers is dead, you can’t be real.”
“Tony…” not-Steve says, frowning down at him. “Did you not get my messages?”
Tony blinks, because this is at least something new. “I’m sorry, what?” he asks.
“My messages,” Steve says, looking more and more frantic. “When I fell from The Raft, SHIELD managed to rescue me from the ocean. They told me they thought I was dead, so I called you right away…” he trails off, as Tony doesn’t show any signs of recognition. “You didn’t get the messages,” Steve says faintly. “Tony, all this time… you thought I was really dead?”
Tony nods, his pulse thundering loud in his ears. It’s starting to come into focus, he sees what Steve is saying… but he can’t allow himself to hope, only to find…
“Steve, you were dead,” he says. “I didn’t believe them at first, I couldn’t, but then…” he breaks off as sobs rack his body, his shoulders shaking under a fresh onslaught of tears. His eyes wide, Steve pulls Tony into his arms, and they’re warm and solid and real , and Tony feels himself shaking apart as he begins to let himself believe this is real.
“You were dead,” Tony sobs again, still lost in the horror of it. “You were dead, and I realized just how much I love you.” He looks up at Steve, and Steve smiles down at him, gently wiping tears from Tony’s face. “I want to marry you, Steve,” Tony says quietly. “I want to spend my life with you, and I only realized it when it was too late.”
“Oh sweetheart,” Steve says, pulling Tony to his chest and running his hands through Tony’s messy hair. “I love you too,” Steve murmurs in Tony’s ear. “I’m here, and I love you.”
They stand like that for long minutes, until Tony has cried himself out and relaxed in the circle of Steve’s arms.
“Coincidentally,” Steve says casually, like he’s commenting on the weather, “I want to spend the rest of my life with you, too. And Tony… it’s not too late.”
Tony sighs and tightens his arms around Steve’s waist, smiling when he feels Steve press his lips to the top of his head.
“I’m glad you’re not dead,” Tony tells him seriously.
“Me too,” Steve says.
“I know some other people who would be pretty happy about it too,” Tony says with a smile. “Come with me.”
He takes Steve’s hand and leads him back to their room. He knows they’re sure to be ambushed by their teammates and get pulled into a cuddle pile that will be nearly impossible to escape from, and he couldn’t be happier about it because Steve is back, he’s alive, and they have all the time in the world.
i have a bakery question: bagels. how? whenever i try to make them they come out wrinkly and tough and sad :(
I am sorry, I have no wisdom for you here: we don’t do bagels and I’ve never made them on my own! But as general advice, if the texture is giving you trouble, try playing around with the amount of time you’re proofing them for? That would be the first thing I’d try tweaking for better results.
BEEDLE my dear can I ask you for arthur / eames recs? I read Good to the Last Drop by jibrailis bc I saw you liked it and it was AMAZING. Also I'm obsessed with Pants on Fire by Helenish and I need. like. more of this.
I GOT YOU FAM
Good to the Last Drop by jibrailis (I mean. yall mentioned it it’s here it’s thriving it’s the Classic™)
aka the juicebox fic. In which Arthur’s ass is magic and Eames likes sticking his tongue into small, tight holes.
Double Buck by wldnst
Arthur and Eames are lumberjacks, and they’re okay. Or: Arthur has absolutely no interest in sawing double buck, especially not with someone who uses a chainsaw.
Spin! by weatherfront
Political crisis managers AU. Arthur and Eames are operatives for rival presidential campaigns in a heated Democratic primary. Can they find love and happiness in spite of all the pies, Republicans, and publicity disasters in their way? Even in the face of the dreaded ELECTORAL COLLEGE SYSTEM? I DON’T KNOW! LET’S FIND OUT!
Mr. Eames and Mr. Eames by jibrailis
Eames orders a mail order bride and gets Arthur.
Renovations by joosetta
In which Eames builds a nest and (accidentally) lures Arthur into it.
I’ve Got Nothing To Do Today But Smile (The Only Living Boy in New York) by gyzym
Arthur’s a corporate lawyer, Eames owns the coffee shop across the street, and all good love stories start with a quadruple shot latte.
Waiting On by thehoyden
“French toast, pancakes, steak and eggs – I could make you anything in the world, pet, but no. Egg-white omelette, morning after morning. It shows a distinct lack of imagination.”
And I laid traps for troubadours by Aja
By day, Arthur and Eames are mild-mannered dreamshare criminals.By other increments of time, Eames ferries souls across the River Styx, and Arthur?Arthur is the anxiety-ridden Angel of Death.
Saveur by scribblscrabbl
the pleasures of the table, and of life, are infinite - Julia Child
we were once cinema gods in the night by gyzym
That’s the thing about Hollywood–everyone has a Hollywood story.
Wherever You Will Be (That’s Where I’ll Call Home) [The DomesticVerse] by gyzym
People you kiss in an airport baggage claim and then don’t talk to for thirteen months shouldn’t be able to exist, let alone make your chest do the things Arthur’s chest is doing. There are rules.
Steinway!verse by toomuchplor
Being a freshman piano performance major at a prestigious New England conservatory is difficult enough without landing the school’s star baritone as your singer, and inevitably, your hopeless crush.
Let Not My Love Be Called Idolatry by toomuchplor
Arthur breaks all the rules of American high school films, as though he’s never even heard of John Hughes, and Eames can’t decide if, given the choice, he wouldn’t rather just become Arthur instead of having the chance to be with him.
A high school AU wherein Eames is a shy sweet nervous drama geek and Arthur is the confident popular gorgeous student council president; and lo, there is much pining and awkwardness and, eventually, kissing.
Incipit by thehoyden
Arthur has been his editor from the beginning. Eames says he won’t work with anyone else, and what Arthur will never tell him is that he would cut anyone who tried.
The Big Sleep by jibrailis
Arthur is a violent sleeper but Eames discovers just how to soothe him.
His Lordship Makes a Match by jibrailis
Regency AU! Eames is an Earl and Arthur is his long-suffering valet.
I can’t extinguish this fire, though I’ve tried by aprettyaway
In which Arthur is domestic, there is a series of unfortunate events, and firefighter Eames is called upon to save the day. Idea shamelessly taken from Modern Family.
Chav!verse by delires
Disturbing London, baby, we about to branch out. (The one where Eames is a chav)
And I laid traps for troubadours by Aja
By day, Arthur and Eames are mild-mannered dreamshare criminals.
By other increments of time, Eames ferries souls across the River Styx, and Arthur?
Arthur is the anxiety-ridden Angel of Death.
The One Where They’re Stars on HGTV by earlgreytea68
Have you ever seen “Love It or List It”? In which Arthur is the real estate agent and Eames is the designer.
La Vie de Famille by Lenore
Arthur takes a job babysitting for Eames’s son. Family happens.
The Wingman ‘verse by whiskyrunner
Arthur has a morning jog every day and recently something has appeared to ruin his routine which would be Eames and his dog who seems to like Arthur as much as Eames does. Cue Eames trying to get Arthur to see him outside of his ‘daily routine’ and getting treated like a weirdo.
Bonus fic here.
Stranger Things Than Known By Man by Nellie (i’d be fake if i didn’t rec my fave tentacle fics fklgjsfdl)
If Eames had never told, Arthur never would have guessed. But now he knows what’s really under Eames’s skin, he can’t stop thinking about it.
Just Breathe by Nellie
Discovering new things in the bedroom is one of the main side effects of finding out your boyfriend is actually an alien with tentacles.
The Greedyhearts by weatherfront
Eames is a high-end thief. Arthur is a private investigator hired to catch him.
I made this instead of my thesis paper because I have no control of my life Also because I was inspired by @cptxrogers's personal endgame choice here http://cptxrogers.tumblr.com/post/173873482964/but-now-im-curious-between-all-the-ships-which Go get him, you brooding son of gun!
@cptxrogers answered your question: does anybody else find the premise of 13 Reasons...
i find it horrifying. there’s an article about it here which made me not want to watch it: newstatesman.com/culture…
“depicting Hannah’s suicide as a means of exposing the actions of her peers and making them feel guilty rather than exploring the nuances of mental illness”
yep, that right there. that’s why i can’t watch it.
cptxrogers replied to your post: SUCCESSFULLY INSTALLED AN AFTERMARKET CPU COOLER...
nice! did you go air cooled or water cooled? :D /fellow hardware geek
i looked at liquid cooling but apparently it doesn’t make a serious difference until you spend around $100+? and this shitty prebuilt pc doesn’t need that kind of money dropped on it lol
so i got the cryorig h7 which has a really cool mounting bracket so it fits amd and intel CPUs and won’t bother the RAM while still having a beautifully large heatsink and a lovely fan
AND a second small bracket in case you want a fan on BOTH SIDES of the heatsink!!
also applying the thermal paste wasn’t nearly as terrifying as i thought it would be? though it’s a minor miracle i didn’t manage to short out the motherboard or GPU tbh
