disaster duo
i think this was for last last year’s birthday and I’M VERY SORRY. but here’s an unbirthday fic @flange5 i wanted to make you something super good so this took me 1230948302 years. i hope you like it even if it’s not super good. ily!!
--
The sound of Steve's voice coming down the hall from the kitchen is enough to make Tony's heart jump a little higher in his chest. He feels himself start to bounce with each step and mentally covers his face. God, he's embarrassing.
“I know I'm probably putting my foot in it, but I don't know who else to ask.”
“Did someone tell you you were doing that?”
Ah, Pepper. Pepper is a good person for Steve to ask things. She's far too used to Tony to bat an eye at anything Steve might ask.
“I've been told I have no idea how to talk to women.”
Pepper laughs and covers up Tony's snort of amusement. He buys that without needing to be sold. “Well, why don't you ask me and I'll help you remove it if it gets wedged in there.”
“It's...a little personal,” Steve warns, an edge of shyness creeping into his voice.
Tony pauses outside the kitchen door, curiosity piqued.
“Well, that's all right,” Pepper says, a warm smile in her voice. “I like to think we're friends.”
“You do?” Steve says and then goes quiet so fast Tony knows he's turning beet red.
“Oh, Steve, yes. Absolutely.”
“Then I guess that makes my question a little less out of line,” Steve says. His voice is doing that uncertain, self-depreciating thing that does things to Tony.
“Hmm,” Pepper says thoughtfully. “Well, we'll never know if you don't spit it out.”
There's a brief pause and then, rushed: “I want to go on a date.”
–
Tony steps backward without a conscious thought, his heart plunging to his toes.
“Oh,” he hears Pepper say, surprise thick in her voice. Clearly she hadn't realized either, that Steve—that Steve was interested. In her.
Tony's hand comes up to rub at the arc reactor, which suddenly feels like it's being twisted agonizingly in his chest. Steve's interested in Pepper. Of course. Why wouldn't he be? Pepper's…Pepper, and, okay, wow, Tony had gotten his hopes up higher than he thought.
Stumbling back down the hall, he barely hears himself mutter, “Hey,” as he passes Natasha. Tony thinks she says his name, but he doesn't answer, doesn't stop, just numbly makes his way back to his room and shuts the door behind him.
His best friend-cum-crush and his ex.
That's fine. That's great. If it makes Steve happy—
Tony makes a noise, a horrible, wounded noise, and presses his back to the door, sinking down to curl up against it on the floor. It feels like the reactor's been torn out of his chest, hollow and empty and excruciating.
Steve is one of his best friends. That should be enough. It should be enough that Steve is there in the wee hours of the morning when Tony's staring down a bottle and it should be enough to see his smile, limned in blue in the workshop when Tony's showing him his latest work, it should be enough when Steve slumps sideways into Tony's shoulder on movie nights, but it's not, it's not, Tony can't stand the thought of seeing Steve with someone else. Even someone like Pepper.
Maybe more because it's someone like Pepper. At least if he didn't know them he could hate them.
His tears are hot as they streak down his cheeks, tickling as they slip into his beard and Tony burns with mortification. Steve was never his to begin with because he'd been too much of a pansy to say anything and now—
Tony buries his face against his knees, smearing snot and tears on his jeans. His breath is coming in sharp, shuddering waves that hurt down into his gut.
How much false hope had he built up that it hurts this badly?
Whatever.
It doesn't matter. He'll let himself grieve until he's sick with it and then he'll be fine. He'll be okay with being Steve's best friend and giving him advice on how to be less awkward for Pepper in a few days.
Tony presses a hand over his mouth, throat working convulsively.
Okay, maybe a week.
But Steve deserves this, to be happy, to have someone who enjoys art the way he does, and who told Tony that they couldn't date anymore because she couldn't be Iron Man's mistress.
Oh, god.
So now she's going to be Captain America's mistress. It's just him she can't stand by—bullshit, the reasonable part of Tony's brain spits. The only person who's stood by him longer is Rhodey.
Then—what if she turns him down?
Tony hates himself for the wave of cool relief that washes through him at the idea. She'll break Steve's heart and...the thought makes Tony's stomach turn.
Why can't Steve be in love with him? He'd work so hard to make Steve happy. He wants to say that's all he wants, but he doesn't want to see Steve happy with someone else. Thinking about it makes him feel cut open. He wants Steve happy with him.
Too bad, he thinks, letting his head fall back with a thunk against the door and feeling his sinuses start to drain.
Steve wants to be happy with someone else.
–
Tony doesn't come out of his room for two days.
He tells Pepper he's sick and he must sound pretty awful because she just says, with a faint air of concern, “Okay, Tony. Let me know if you need anything.”
The part of him that's still in love with her—that will probably always still be in love with her—aches.
When he finally emerges, he's showered and put on fresh clothes and he's cried long and hard enough that he can put the masks up.
His resolve is immediately tested, because he nearly runs into Steve in the hall.
“Tony!” he exclaims and then his brow dips, mouth pulling into a frown. His gaze sweeps over Tony from head to toe and Tony very carefully reins in the urge to build something from that look. “Are you okay? Pepper said you were feeling under the weather.”
Tony pulls on a smile. “Yeah, caught a little something, but I'm all good now. Just needed some rest.”
Steve's expression softens and warms, piercing Tony through like a shard of glass. “Good. Glad to hear it. Say, speaking of Pepper—”
Tony freezes, smile fixed on his face. Jesus, already?
“I'd like to get Pepper a gift. Do you think you could recommend something?”
“Sure,” Tony says stiffly. “Why don't you get her a massage? That's—” He can't make himself say 'romantic'.
Steve's expression flickers. “Really? You don't think that's—well, you know her best.”
“Yep.” Tony's very proud of the fact that he doesn't scream or otherwise do something unreasonable.
Steve smiles at him, Sunday morning sunshine, and Tony dies a little inside. “Thanks, Tony. I appreciate it. Feel better, okay?”
“Do my best,” Tony croaks and Steve moves past him.
After a moment, Tony coaxes stiff joints into movement and heads down to the workshop.
A distraction, that's what he needs.
–
The distraction doesn't work.
Tony's pulled up at least half a dozen different projects he's been neglecting, but all he can think about is Steve going to get Pepper a gift. Are they already dating then? Like, in an official capacity? They’re at the point where Steve is getting her gifts?
Dammit.
–
The next week is like a waking nightmare.
Tony can’t focus on anything he’s supposed to; all he can think about is Steve and Pepper. Steve keeps checking on Tony, giving him these worried looks. Every time he looks like he wants to say something, but decides better of it. Tony can’t help but be grateful, he doesn’t want to hear about how Steve feels about Pepper—it was bad enough listening to him talk about Peggy and she’s been dead for three years. Christ, he’s a piece of work.
It can’t last though. Steve finally says, “Hey, Tony, can I talk to you?” one morning in between sparring. Tony isn’t even coming close to holding his own—he’s too distracted.
He chews his lip and nods. “Sure thing.”
They move over to the little set of bleachers on the side of the room and Tony sits down, deliberately occupying himself with drinking from his water bottle. Steve sips out of his own, pacing in front of him. He’s wound up for some reason.
Steve blows out a breath. “I talked to Pepper and she said I should just talk to you.”
Tony’s stomach drops out his ass. He swallows hard, barely managing to keep from choking on the water halfway down his throat. Oh god. Pepper knows, of course she knows, and she told Steve oh god.
“Look,” he blurts, “my feelings don’t matter. I’ll get over it, I’m used to it. Just—don’t tell me what you and Pepper are getting up to on dates and for crying out loud, don’t ask me for anymore gift ideas.”
Steve stops, back going stiff, and then turns to stare at Tony. “What Pepper and I get up to on dates—” His eyes go wide. “Tony, no!”
“What do you mean, ‘no’?”
“Tony, I’m not dating Pepper! She’s great, don’t get me wrong. I gave her that gift as a thank you for giving me advice about how to ask you out.”
Tony feels like Steve just cold-cocked him. “What? You asked her on a date! I heard you!”
Steve puts one hand on his hip, pressing the knuckles of the other to his forehead. “That’s what you thought?” His head comes up with a jolt. “You told me to get her a massage!” He turns bright red. “I thought that seemed strange, but I don’t know enough about the 21st century to know for sure.”
“I thought you were trying to give her a romantic gift!”
“That explains her face when I gave it to her.” Steve groans.
Tentatively, because he still can’t believe what he’s hearing, Tony says, “You were asking for her advice on me?”
Steve softens and he smiles the crooked, self-depreciating smile that gets Tony every time. “I don’t exactly have a good history with these things and all the experience I do have is with women. A woman,” he amends.
“Oh my god,” Tony says faintly. “I had a meltdown for nothing.”
Steve rubs the back of his head. “Guess I’m hopeless even with help.”
Tony holds out his hands, hope and happiness rising inside him like a warm tide. “Lucky for you, I’m into that.”
Steve huffs and gingerly puts his hands in Tony’s, his smile solidifying a little when Tony squeezes them and pulls him closer. “So...do you want to go on a date with me?”
Tony pulls him in until he can press his forehead to Steve’s, and he grins, all but bubbling over with euphoria. “Absolutely, I do.”
Steve beams at him.
“Oh, and Steve?”
“Yeah?”
“We are never telling anyone about this. Ever.”
“Agreed.”
