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A loud moan woke Tony, though he had been drifting in and out of consciousness for a while. That usually happened when he’d been out drinking. He didn’t really do hangovers as such, but he found sleep was hard to come by once the sun was up. Once the afternoon came, though, Tony tended to crash. And crash hard.
Things were already feeling a little different, though. It might have been the bruises on the column of his throat, or the small spring in his step.
Pulling on a baggy sweatshirt that he didn’t think was his but that had a modestly-high neckline, Tony wandered out of the kitchen and into the living room. Hearing his houseguest moving around, he paused in the doorway and watched as Steve woke up slowly, his face scrunched up against the bright lighting in the living room. When Steve pushed himself up into a sitting position and caught sight of Tony standing in the doorway, he grimaced.
“Morning, Tony.”
Tony’s lips quirked up at the deep scratch of Steve’s voice. “Morning. How’s the head?”
“Shit. I feel like death warmed up.”
Tony snorted. His heart started to beat wildly in his chest and he could feel a flush already rising. Even with bed hair, bags under his eyes, and a pillow crease down his cheek, Steve was still the most beautiful man Tony had ever seen. “Yeah. You look like it.”
“Gee, thanks.” Steve yawned widely, arms above his head. The borrowed blanket that he’d had over himself slipped down and Tony couldn’t stop his gaze from wandering, eyes settling on the expanse of tanned, muscled chest. “Fuck, what the hell did I drink?”
“The bar?” Tony swallowed and looked away, hating the memories that flooded his brain and started to make his cock twitch with interest. There was nothing he wanted to do more than launch himself across the room and into Steve’s arms, but he could play coy when he felt like there would be something in it for him. And hopefully, there would be something in him very soon. “We’ll have to go back and make sure they’re still in business.”
“Ha. Ha. Pretty sure you helped. You little hooligan.”
Tony grinned and looked back at Steve. “Corruption. Peer pressure, I think you could call it.”
“Nope, it was all on you.” Steve shook his head before he winced almost violently and threw a hand up to his face. “Okay, don’t move your head,” he muttered to himself lowly, voice deliciously husky. “Bad idea. Bad, bad idea.”
Tony snorted again. “I could have told you that, dickhead.”
Steve looked a little surprised, but it faded into a slow smile. “You’ve been hanging around with Buck too much, if you’re talking back like that.”
“Problem?”
Tony loved the way that Steve looked at him, all gentle shock fading into soft pride. It was true that Tony had needed to be brought out of his shell and that Bucky, Sam, and Rhodey had been the three men to do just that. Their personalities were so different to anybody else that Tony had ever met in his sheltered life before moving to college, but it seemed that that had been a good thing.
After a few months of them literally taking him beneath their wings and introducing him to an entirely new world, Tony had started to trust that they were actually, genuinely his friends and had started to let a bit of his cheekiness show.
If it was going to have the added bonus of making Steve look at him like that, then Tony was all for it even more.
“Nah, I think I kind of like it. Tiny Tony growing up.”
Tony narrowed his eyes, but he softened quickly when Steve shot him a wide grin, one hand still massaging his forehead.
“So, what did happen last night?” Steve asked through a yawn, which quickly turned into a groan.
And that stopped Tony in his tracks. What was the supposed to mean?
“You don’t remember?” Tony asked, trying not to let any sort of emotion colour his voice and give anything away. There had to be an explanation; it was probably just Steve giving him an out. Or an in.
Last night had been everything to Tony and Steve was saying that he didn’t remember it? There was no way that that was possible. Steve had been drunk, sure, but not so bad that he wouldn’t be able to recall… what they’d done.
“I don’t think so.” Steve scratched his stomach and rolled his neck, drawing Tony’s eyes to his body, flickering between the two spots as he tried to take in as much as he could. “Not even sure how I got back here.”
And, oh. That hadn’t been what Tony had wanted to hear. In fact, that had been the very last thing that Tony had ever wanted to be told. Nothing could have prepared him for the shiver that went down his spine at those few words, or the crushing pain that closed around his chest.
How could he have been so stupid?
Without saying anything in response to that, Tony pushed himself from the door frame and headed into the kitchen. He grabbed a glass from the cupboard to fill with water and shook three Advil from the pill bottle – Steve would definitely need three after the night that he had. Apparently, he’d been even worse than they’d thought.
Taking a moment to enjoy the peace and to will down the emotions threating to spill up and out of him, Tony let out a long breath. He pressed his palms against the cool surface of the work station and revealed in the feeling against his overheated skin. He was going to need a minute. Or two.
There had been so much in the previous night’s events that Tony had longed for for months on end. It was as though all of his dreams had come true and things were finally going to fall into place. Except, apparently, they weren’t.
After a long moment more, he collected himself to head back into the living room. He’d have happily stayed in the peace and solitary of the kitchen, but he knew it would be suspicious. Once he’d gotten to the bottom of the situation with Steve and knew where he stood, then he could hide.
He had a feeling he was going to need to.
Tony headed back out to the living room where Steve was sitting on the edge of the couch and putting his socks on, looking around gingerly for his shoes. Tony held out the water and pills and Steve took them with a grateful nod, swallowing the painkillers quickly and emptying the glass before sinking back into the couch cushions with closed eyes.
Keeping his eyes on Steve, Tony lowered himself into the armchair opposite the couch.
“So, you really don’t remember anything?”
“Not really,” Steve said. He opened one eye and squinted over at Tony. “I remember getting to the bar. I think I remember meeting Clint’s friends from his chem class, and then Natasha ordered shots. I don’t remember much else after that. Did I miss anything important?”
“Well,” Tony started casually, stamping down on the fist around his heart and the lump in his throat, “there was the naked dancing on the bar top.”
Steve’s head shot up, mouth open and eyes wide, before he caught sight of the wicked grin on Tony’s face and rolled his eyes, fighting off his own smile as he sank back down.
“No, you didn’t forget anything important,” Tony said with a weak chuckle.
His heart was thudding wildly in his chest and he had to look away from Steve’s gentle smile, choosing instead to stare down at his lap. There was a thread hanging from the bottom of his sweatshirt and he had to twist his fingers together to resist the urge to pull and pull and pull. Things unravelled when they were pulled, he told himself. Tony licked his lips and dug his fingernails into his palm.
“Just the usual group night out. There were too many shots, too much dancing and far too much food. Sam got wasted and crashed pretty early. Bucky drew all over his face – I’m pretty sure it was in Sharpie, so it’ll probably still be on him this morning.”
Steve snorted and Tony’s lips turned upwards in a small smile at the noise.
“We met some of your classmates at one point, I think. They were from your life-drawing class. Maria, maybe? And someone called Scott. There was a blonde girl, too. Shannon?”
“Oh. Sharon. Did we stay with them?”
Fuck. Tony had hoped that he had been wrong on the previous night when he had caught longing looks from Sharon to Steve, but the forced causal tone that Steve had adopted told him that he’d read it correctly.
“No.” Tony swallowed harshly. Of course Steve wanted the beautiful girl. “No, they moved on somewhere else pretty quickly. Tash went with them, but you stayed with us. Said you didn’t trust me to wander off.”
Steve laughed and Tony pressed his lips together at the sound. He wanted to hear nothing but that every day for the rest of his life.
“Sounds like me. Was right, though, wasn’t I? You needed me.”
And wasn’t that true?
Tony cocked his eyebrow instead and smirked. “Oh, yeah? Mind I remind you who is in whose apartment and who cannot find his shoes?”
The blush that flooded Steve’s cheeks was dangerously cute and Tony looked away again.
“So, just a normal night then? We lost Clint somewhere along the way and Sam ended up with a dick on his face.”
Tony laughed, tight and brittle. “Sounds about right.”
Well, Tony thought sullenly, that and the best night of his whole life.
“Hey, Tony.”
Tony looked up from the bar-top to see Steve standing close to him, practically caging him in.
“Hi.” Tony grinned at the hazy look on Steve’s face and the way he was swaying with the music. “You okay?”
“Yeah, ‘m good. Are you okay?”
Tony’s smile grew wider. Feeling the alcohol course through him and making him feel braver than usual, he didn’t stop to second guess himself before he reached a hand out and cupped Steve’s hip. At the touch, Steve swayed forward and buried his head into Tony’s neck.
“You smell good,” he moaned, his hand dropping his drink down haphazardly to wrap around Tony’s waist instead.
“Thanks.” Tony moaned as Steve began to kiss the column of his throat, his eyes falling closed and his hand spasming around Steve’s belt.
It was easy to forget where they were for a long moment as Tony gave into the feeling of Steve pressed against him, his hot breath being panted against his neck. The music was loud and the air thick around them, the occasional dancer bumping into them as they clamoured for more drinks, but it was all almost embarrassingly easy to ignore.
Steve let out a particularly loud groan and Tony rocked forward in response, seeking more friction. He tangled his hand in Steve’s hair and, with some difficulty, lifted his head until their eyes met. They only held the heated gaze for a moment before Tony surged forward, taking Steve’s lips with his and licking his way into Steve’s mouth almost desperately.
All too soon, Steve pulled away, though he didn’t go far. His lips dragged over Tony’s cheek, nose pressing against Tony’s temple and making him squirm.
“I want you.”
Tony felt his knees crumple at the words he’d longed to hear for so long. If it weren’t for the bruise he could already feel on his neck and the cool air making his swollen lips sting, then he would think he was dreaming.
“No,” Tony said, though he held Steve closer instead of pushing him away. Always closer. Always with him, never apart. “You’re drunk.”
“I want you. Please say you want me, too.”
Tony whimpered. “Can’t you feel me?”
“I want you to say it.” Steve kissed Tony once, twice, hips pressing him further into the bar.
“Yes,” Tony whispered. The words wouldn’t have been heard over the music if they hadn’t already been sharing the same breath. “Yes, I want you.”
It had been all Tony had ever wanted, since almost that first day of college. Steve was everything that Tony could have wanted; funny, kind, gentle, a bit of an asshole, gorgeous, and smart. There was no universe in which Tony would have pushed Steve away from him.
“Good,” Steve said and Tony swallowed again, nails digging further into his palms. “Glad I didn’t miss anything important. And I’m sure someone has photos, right? Someone normally does.”
Tony winced minutely. Shit. He hadn’t even thought of that. Clint tended to fancy himself as somewhat of a photographer when he got wasted and tried to record everything their group ever did. Tony would have to cut that off pretty quickly and hope that any evidence hadn’t found its way onto social media already.
“Yeah,” Tony said, praying that his voice didn’t sound as strained as it felt. “I’m sure. He seemed to have his phone out every time I looked at him.”
“Wait.” Steve looked up suddenly and squinted. “Why did I end up here? Thought I’d have gone home with Buck.”
“Bucky had taken Sam back to yours before we went. The whole passing-out-on-the-bathroom-floor thing was kind of a downer so Bucky said he’d take him home. You and I stayed out for a bit longer and, I don’t know.”
You didn’t want to wake him up with loud sex with me, Tony thought bitterly. Bucky had left before Steve and Tony had started dancing together, never mind done anything more risqué, so at least that was one problem that he didn’t have to deal with. Tony lifted one shoulder in a causal shrug and shook his head.
“Don’t know if you had a key on you, anyway. You were a bit out of it and I didn’t want to go rifling through your pockets to find out. Easier to bring you back here with me, in the end.”
The moan that Tony let out as his back hit the door was loud enough to hurt his throat. Steve must have felt it as well, as he pulled back to try and look at Tony.
“No,” Tony whined, cupping his hands together behind Steve’s head and bringing him back for another searing kiss, “kiss me.”
“Fuck.” The word was accompanied by Steve’s thigh sliding between Tony’s legs and pressing up against his crotch. “Tony, so good.”
“Come on, Steve. Come on,” Tony begged, grinding down on the leg between his and panting wantonly. “I need you.”
“No.” Steve kissed his way down Tony’s neck, pausing to suck another deep bruise into his neck. “Not tonight.”
“What? Please.” Tony threw his head back and let out another groan, movements almost turning to bounces against Steve’s solid thigh. “Fuck me.”
Steve pulled back only to catch Tony’s mouth in a searing kiss, leaving him breathless. “Not for our first time,” he said when they broke apart, holding Tony’s hips and helping him move against Steve.
That was a change of tune, Tony thought with a dark glare. In the club, Steve hadn’t had those same sort of thoughts. The alcohol was burning off in Tony’s system, but it seemed as though it was being replaced with a white-hot passion, a desperation to be close to the man he wanted. It was coursing through him and making his head spin, much like the tequila that Natasha had poured down his throat had done.
“You deserve so much more. So much better.” Steve kissed Tony again, tongues dancing together. One of his hands slid up beneath Tony’s shirt, fingers pressing into the dimples at the bottom of his spin. “Gonna treat you right. When we’re not drunk, not rushing. We’ll do it right.”
Tony didn’t want to do it right; he just wanted to do it. He wanted to feel Steve against him, feel their bodies moving together in tandem and to finally be connected with the one he’d pined after for so long.
“Will you do something, though?” Tony should have been ashamed at how desperate he sounded, but the wolfish grin on Steve’s face told him that he didn’t seem to mind.
“Of course, sweetheart,” Steve said and Tony’s eyes rolled back into his head when Steve shoved his hand down the front of his jeans. “I’ve got you.”
“Personally,” Tony continued, pointing at the empty takeaway boxes on the coffee table between them, “I just don’t think you wanted to share your pizza with him.”
With cum-stained pants and hardly any energy, they’d stumbled into the living room and ordered pizza at 3 am. They’d shared sticky kisses over the greasy food until Steve had fallen asleep on the couch, one hand clutching a crust and the other stroking over Tony’s back.
“Huh,” Steve said, huffing out a laugh. “Don’t even remember ordering that, but it sounds about right.”
Tony didn’t answer. He wasn’t surprised. Nothing could surprise him anymore, he didn’t think.
Taking a steeling breath, Steve stood up on shaking legs and picked his jacket up off the floor. Searching through the pockets with a slightly nervous expression, Steve grinned triumphantly when he found his keys and pulled them out with a jingle. “Thank fuck those are still there.”
“Guess you were drunker than you thought you were,” Tony chuckled weakly. “I tried to tidy up but I have no idea what you did after I went to bed. Looks like you had your own private party.”
“Yeah. I guess I was. I hope I didn’t do anything stupid. I was not in a good place yesterday.” Steve’s smile faltered a little bit and he cleared his throat. “Thanks for bringing me home.”
“Do you want a coffee?” Tony asked suddenly. His heart was heavy and his head was still pounding. He didn’t want to be there anymore, didn’t want to hear how Steve didn’t remember what Tony would cherish forever. He didn’t want to talk about anything, really. “My head is louder than the damn club and I need caffeine.”
“Yeah, sure. Thanks.” Steve squinted at Tony, looking at him questioningly. “Hey, are you okay?”
Tony opened his mouth to brush the question off before Steve’s phone suddenly buzzed on the coffee table, the two of them wincing at the loud vibration that it made.
“Shit,” Steve said after he picked it up and thumbed the screen. “Bucky’s up and wondering why I never went home. I’d better go and show him that I’m still alive.” He took a step forward before he stopped and closed his eyes. He swayed back and forth on the spot for a moment. “Or maybe I should take another second… nope, okay. I’m good.”
Tony huffed a weak laugh. “You got this. You’re a big, buff man. You can handle your liquor.”
Steve smiled at Tony and shrugged into his jacket, shoving his phone into his pocket and waving his keys in Tony’s face.
“Thanks, again. For the pizza and the couch.”
“Yeah.” Tony’s mouth was dry and his knees weren’t going to support him for very much longer. “Anytime. You know that.”
The hug that Steve caught Tony in was the final straw. Tears sprung to Tony’s eyes and he twisted his hands in Steve’s jacket until his knuckles went white. It was for the best, he told himself when he stepped back and plastered on a smile. He was a big boy; he could handle it.
“Go. And take a photo of Sam’s face. I need to see it again.”
Steve snorted as he opened the front door. “Best hangover cure, right?”
Finally alone again, Tony wandered back into the kitchen. He made himself a cup of coffee on autopilot as he picked up his phone for the first time that morning.
He’d put it off, knowing what he was going to find. And sure enough, there were countless messages, though luckily none of them had made it into the group chat.
Received from Natasha > Bruce told me. Way to go, shpil'ka! Get some.
Received from Rhodey > Finally!
> I’m happy for you
> Don’t ever tell me any details
> I will kill him if he hurts you
> I’m serious Tones. NO DETAILS
> NEVER ANY DETAILS
Received from Clint > ew.
> i didn’t need to see that
> no. seriously
> youre gross
> ew
Tony huffed out a humourless laugh. If things had been reversed, if he’d woken up in a different world, then he would have loved those texts. He’d have turned over to smother his laughs into Steve’s chest, typing out a cheeky and suggestive message just to see Steve’s cheeks flush a bright red as he would try and wrestle the phone away.
There would have been more teasing. It probably would have spilled over to the group chat as well, and then Bucky and Sam would have joined in when they’d put two and two together. Clint would send the photos that he’d taken of the two of them kissing, as dark and as grainy as they would be. Of course they’d have been stupidly unclear, but Tony would have chosen a favourite and made it his background, just to see Steve grin bashfully.
Tony would have taken selfie after selfie as well; one of their top-halves naked and pressed together, one of Steve pressing a kiss to Tony’s cheek, maybe even one of their lips meeting in a soft kiss.
But none of that would happen. Because life didn’t always work out as it had been planned and things didn’t always go the way that people wanted. Instead, Tony took a deep breath and opened a new group chat, quickly picking out a handful of people that he hoped he could trust to dampen the wildfire of the rumour mill.
Sent from Tony > Last night never happened.
Received from Rhodey > What?
> What did he say?
> Tony. I’m calling you
> Tones answer me. I’m going to kill him
Received from Bruce > What are you talking about?
> Did Steve say something to you?
Received from Rhodey > Answer your phone, you idiot. We’re talking about this
Received from Clint > i promise it did i saw it
Received from Rhodey > Tony. Answer. Your. Phone
Received from Bruce > He’s going to remember. I think Clint took pictures
Received from Clint > i took pictures lots of them
> i have the mental scars it deffo happened
Received from Rhodey > Tones. I’m coming over. Carol too
Tony took a deep breath as his phone continued to buzz and flash in his hand. His head was still pounding to a loud and heavy beat, but it was almost drowned out by the pain in his chest.
Fuck, but how did he always get himself into messes? He didn’t want to talk to anyone, didn’t want to have to explain what happened or what he’d done. All he wanted was to be loved by the man he loved, to be wanted back and to be seen as more than a drunken fuck.
He wanted to be remembered. Sure, he could just tell Steve, but he didn’t want that. He wanted Steve to want to wake up with him, to want to kiss him when there wasn’t the stale taste of warm beer and cheap vodka staining his lips.
Jokes were never funny if they had to be explained, just like passion was never there if it had to be told about. It was clear that it had been a drunken thing and a drunken thing only. Tony would only look desperate if he tried to convince Steve what they’d done, or look like a liar if he claimed that Steve had promised him a sober fuck.
Tony just wanted to be wanted, that was all. That’s all he ever wanted.
Downing his coffee and wincing at the protesting thud his head gave, Tony willed his thumbs into typing out one more text before he threw his phone across the room and tried to force his body into sleep.
Sent from Tony > It never happened.