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“Me and Rogers are not on speaking terms anymore.”
“I am very sorry to hear that.” Thunderbolt Ross - Secretary of State Ross, the son of a bitch - says, without a single speck of remorse. “I suppose now is when you tell me you won’t help me find him?”
“You know me so well.” Tony replies through gritted teeth. “You know I’d love to, but I can’t.”
“And you want me to believe you have no way of tracking Rogers? Through his shield, or his suit?” Ross raises his eyebrows, unimpressed.
“I did, before Rogers removed them.” Tony clarifies. “You think he didn’t know where the trackers were?”
“And I suppose everyone else did too? Romanoff, Wilson?” Ross smirks cruelly. “Maximoff? You’d really let her walk around unsupervised?”
Tony’s jaw clenches so tightly his cheeks hurt. “Why not? She’s a big girl. And if I’m not making my way to a cell right now, why should she be? Some would argue I need more supervision than she does.”
Ross barks out a weak laugh, nodding curtly to himself, as if terribly amused. “If you had told me that just a few years ago I would have definitely agreed with you. Lucky for you, you are not the biggest fish I have to catch anymore, Stark.”
“I’m sure I can live with that. Although, to be clear, I want you to know my feelings are very hurt.”
“I’ll make sure to write that down on my report.” Ross sneers.
“Report to what?”
“The UN.” Ross reminds him firmly. “Or did you forget this is what this whole mess is about? To put the Avengers under the supervision of a council that’s prepared to deal with the messes you leave behind?”
Tony clicks his tongue. “Right. And their escape is gonna be part of that report?”
“How else would I explain why they are not here?” Ross asks him with distaste, as if Tony’s being purposefully annoying.
Which he is.
“Their escape from a very secret, very illegal maximum security facility?”
Ross pauses, his silence dangerous. “You have something to say to me, Stark?”
“I’m just wondering how that little project of yours is gonna fly. Keeping superheroes trapped in the Raft - did anyone in the UN approve that, or did you just make that decision for yourself?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Ross smiles, a vile, ugly thing. “You don’t worry about it, Stark. It’s none of your concern.”
“What if I make it my concern?” Tony presses.
Ross looks at him for a long, very uncomfortable second. “Why? You worried for Rogers, is that it?”
Tony’s hand clenches into a fist beneath the table.
“Do I have to repeat myself - I don’t care about Rogers. I don’t know where he is, and I don’t want to know. I tried to work with him, I tried to reason, obviously it didn’t work. And I don’t work with people like that - bad for team morale.”
“You, complaining about not listening to reason?” Ross laughs. “I guess old dogs do learn tricks.”
“You would know.” Tony jabs, through a false smirk - if he dares to stretch his lips too wide, there will be too many bared teeth to disguise it as a smile.
Ross looks him up and down, as if considering if he should press the issue further, and Tony sits ramrod straight in his chair, spine stiff as metal, refusing to cower under the bastard’s calculating gaze. He has no reason to. Stress, pressure, and guilt - they are Tony’s old friends, and Thaddeus Ross’s judgment is not stinging enough to wound his thick skin, not punishing enough to bruise.
People are so used to see him in the suit that they often forget Tony has been wearing armor long before Afghanistan. They forget Tony has been playing this game for a very, very long time.
Ross shouldn’t forget. He’s seen Tony fight like this before. He should be more careful.
But it seems he has forgotten too.
Well.
His mistake.
“I guess I should say I’m sorry about you and Rogers, but I don’t think you would appreciate that.” Ross mocks, as he gathers his papers and folders and tucks them under his arm, slow and dragging, as if he’s savoring the motion - savoring his victory over Tony, over the Avengers, standing there as Tony is forced to sit down and look up at him, as if the mere difference in the level of their gazes is akin to defeat. “I doubt you would have invited me to your wedding, anyway.”
“We were not engaged.” Tony hisses. “We weren’t like that.”
“Not for lack of trying, right?” Ross stares him down, provoking. “Rogers might have other priorities, but you sure would do anything to protect him, even lie. It’s a shame he doesn’t feel the same.”
“Are you done?” Tony snaps, angrily.
Ross huffs out a weak laugh and turns to leave, not sparing a single glance back. “Don’t forget we have a meeting tomorrow at noon. You better bring me some good news, Stark.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Tony replies, but Ross is already closing the door on him, and suddenly, Tony is blessedly, completely alone in the conference room, and only then he can sag and relax in his seat, taking in a breath so deep is lungs hurt.
“Christ.” He mumbles to himself, tiredly. He runs his hand over his face, pressing his fingers into his eyes as if that could chase away the sleepiness, and says, “Please tell me you got it.”
“I got it.” Steve says - his voice low and a little distorted over the speakers in Tony’s watch, a little worse for wear, but still a better comfort than anything else he could have asked for. “Nat is getting the files to the UN as we speak.”
“That’s going to be some news tomorrow.” Tony mumbles to himself, leaning back in the chair. “The press is going to put us through hell.”
“Good news, I hope?” Steve asks, and Tony can hear that he’s smiling.
“Yeah, well, Ross did ask. He just didn’t specify who the news should be good for.”
“I don’t think he’s going to be very happy to hear he’s going to jail.” Steve muses.
“Then he should have been more specific.” Tony quips back, and Steve laughs breathily on the other side of the call.
It’s been only a couple of days, and Tony already misses him something awful. He groans, and somehow Steve, with his stupid Tony-sense (something he surely learned from Rhodey), knows Tony is being whiny and mopey (Rhodey’s words, not his). He would go to Rhodey but he can’t right now - it would raise Ross’ suspicions, and though Rhodey won’t admit, he’s still a little upset he managed to get a black eye in a fake fight. He’ll definitely make fun of Tony is Tony shows up saying he misses his boyfriend when the whole country is hunting said boyfriend all over the world.
“Just a couple of days more, Tony.” He assures, soft and sweet, and Tony wishes he was here, so this would be over, Ross and Zemo both would be over, and this could all be forgotten as one long, horrible nightmare. “We’ll be fine.”
“I know.” Tony grumbles. “I just - I hate letting him think he’s won. I hate the smug look on his face.”
“Look on the bright side.” Steve tells him. “Tomorrow, you can be the smug one.”
“Oh, I will. And I will be even worse once you’re back. No more of this… secret dating schtick.”
“I thought you were having fun sneaking around?” Steve teases, and Tony wants to kiss him silly.
“I was, but you know what’s gonna be even more fun? Having Ross behind bars so I can take you out on a real date.”
“I can’t wait.” Steve says, almost in a sigh - and there’s something dreamy about it, hearing his voice through a call; Maybe it’s just because Tony misses him, or maybe because he’s just too old and too soft and too… too goddamned in love, but there’s something about this, about this Steve Rogers that’s mellow and shy, that’s vulnerable only when they’re alone, when they trade whispers and secrets and kisses in the dark–
Tony just… misses him. He hates this being apart thing.
He wants this to be over.
“I’ll sleep in your room tonight.” Tony tells him, sultry, because he knows the effect it’ll have, and he’s not above using it to get what he wants. “If you get here fast enough, you might still find me there when you arrive.”
Steve makes a tight pause. “I’ll be there in five hours.”
Tony laughs, for real, a genuine laugh, for what feels like the first time in months - and he misses the sound of the call disconnecting, but that’s alright.
“See you soon, honey.” He mutters, and though his body is still tired and his bed - Steve’s bed - will be empty when he goes to sleep, he knows he’ll wake up with strong and warm arms around him, no matter what.
Soon, Ross won’t be a problem anymore. Better yet - Soon, Steve will be home.
That alone is enough to make his life just a little bit better.