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Chapter Text

Steve knew he fucked up. He knew it from the moment he walked out of Tony's house and out of his life. As much as Steve hated to admit it, him and Tony were meant to be. Sure, they fought about dumb shit, but they could never actually stay mad at each other. Except this time. Steve couldn't see them making it back from this. This time, it was over. For good. Steve couldn't even remember what the argument had been about. It was something stupid and insignificant, it always was. Maybe the press had seen Tony out with someone else. Perhaps Tony was spending too much time at work and Steve was starting to feel like second-best. Tony might have become distant and Steve assumed he was cheating. Whatever it was, it pissed Steve off. It pissed him off enough to turn it into an argument. There was shouting and screaming. Steve called Tony a cheating slut, Tony called Steve an attention whore. Tony punched a wall, Steve slammed a door. Tony tried to calm down, make things right. Steve packed up all his things in a bag, told Tony he was leaving and not coming back. This time, there was no shouting, no slamming doors. Only a whisper, an unspoken apology, and the sound of a door clicking shut. All of a sudden, it was over. A relationship they'd built together for over a year came crashing down. All it left behind was silence.

That all happened weeks ago, but Steve never recovered. All he'd done was miss Tony. If he could go back in time and beg Tony to take him back, he would. Even better, Steve wanted to go back in time and stop the argument from ever happening. If Steve thought he had a chance, he'd call Tony in an instant. But he knew that Tony would never take him back. Steve was almost certain that Tony had moved on, found someone new. Tony wasn't sat at home, all by himself, wishing someone was by his side. No, Steve was. Steve was the one lying on his bed, wishing he could do something to stop the gaping hole of loneliness growing in his chest. Steve had felt low before, but never this low. He didn't want to say he felt depressed, but all he wanted to do was sleep. He'd been pushing his friends away. All he'd done was work and sleep. He was lonely. In fact, lonely didn't even begin to cover it. Steve felt abandoned. Steve was not abandoned, despite his beliefs. He had abandoned himself. There was a myriad of people waiting to help him if he'd let them. Unfortunately, Steve was as stubborn as a mule, and refused to let anyone help him. Ever.

Steve snapped out of his thoughts and his loneliness when he heard someone knock on his door. He didn't want to answer it, so he ignored it, in the hope that whoever it was would go away. They didn't. Instead, they knocked louder.
"I know you're in there, Steve," a familiar voice shouted from outside. "Ignoring us won't make us go away."
"Go away, Sam!" Steve shouted back. "I'm not in the mood for people."
"I have a key, and I'm not afraid to use it," another voice said.
"Piss off, Bucky!" Steve replied.
"We're worried about you, dude," Sam said. "Just come out with us and we'll leave you alone to wallow in your sorrows for the rest of the week."
"Promise?" Steve asked, cursing himself in his head for sounding so pathetic.
"Yeah, yeah, we promise," Bucky said. "I'm getting impatient. Either you come out or we come in." Steve grumbled, but got up to open the door.
"Yeah, no, I've changed my mind. You're not coming out with us dressed like that, " Bucky said, pulling a face. "Go change."
"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" Steve asked.
"You look like a mess, and we have a reputation to uphold," Sam replied. "We can't let anyone see us with you when you look like that!"
"Buck, you're a bad influence on Sam," Steve said, as he went to change.
"I know!" Bucky laughed.

When Steve had finally made himself look presentable enough to go out with Gay and Gayer, they all went for a coffee. Steve complained the whole way there, claiming he'd feel like a third wheel.
"You know that's not true, Rogers," Sam said. "If anyone's a third wheel here, it's me. I'm always the third wheel when I'm with you two."
"That's not true, Sammy," Bucky whined, pouting.
"See! Look at you! It's like you've forgotten I'm single," Steve exclaimed.
"Sorry Steve," Sam said. "But you ditched Tony, not the other way around!"
"Babe!" Bucky hissed under his breath. "I told you not to mention that!"
"The point is, you need to get back out there!" Sam said, as if he'd never heard Bucky at all. "Try finding someone new, move on!"
"I guess," Steve said, not sounding very convinced.
"I'm sick of seeing you mope around," Sam said.
"I don't mope!" Steve objected.
"Yes you do," Bucky butted in. "If you're not ready for something long-term, at least download Grindr!"
"Fine!" Steve said, exasperated. "I'll look at Grindr when I get home."
"You'd better," Bucky said. "Otherwise Sam might have to set you up with someone he works with!"

True to his word, when Steve got home he pulled out his phone to install Grindr. While the app was downloading, he decided to scroll through social media. He didn't have a reason behind it, he just wanted to see if his friends were doing anything interesting. As it turns out, they were. His friend Sharon was on a date with her new girlfriend. Steve didn't know her personally, but she was pretty. A redhead. Sharon sure did have good taste. Steve scrolled past to see what his other friends were doing. Scott and Hope were having a movie night, watching some obscure sci-fi film. Steve carried on scrolling, hoping Grindr was almost finished installing. Carol and her wife Maria were looking after their daughter, Monica. Steve kept scrolling. Surely Grindr had to have installed by now. That's when he saw it. Tony. Tony was out with someone else. A girl, to be precise. Tony was out with a girl. They couldn't have been friends, he had his arm around her waist, pulling her close. She was beautiful and glamorous, she must have been a supermodel or something. No wonder Tony hadn't texted or called Steve. He was too busy. He'd moved on to someone much, much prettier. Steve felt physically sick. He could picture the things Tony was doing with his new toy. All the things he should be doing with Steve. The more Steve thought about it, the more ill he felt. She was a brunette. Did Tony even like blondes? Did he even like men? Was their whole relationship a lie? Steve felt like he could burst into tears at any given moment, so he called the one person who would always be there for him.

Chapter Text

"Hey," Steve said, trying his very best not to cry. "Have you seen the news?"
"No, why?" Bucky asked.
"Not even checked Twitter?" Steve asked.
"No," Bucky said, sounding a little annoyed. "What's wrong, Steve?"
"It's Tony," Steve said, sniffling. "He's got a new girl. Someone saw them together and snapped a couple of photos. It's all over the internet."
"I'm coming over." Bucky didn't leave much room for Steve to argue, but he tried anyway.
"You really don't have to do that," Steve argued. "Spend the night with Sam, I know it's date night. I'll be fine."
"Sam will understand. Besides, he cares about you too. You need me, and neither one of us is gonna let you down," Bucky said, definitively. "I'll bring alcohol, we can get drunk and try to forget about this mess."
"You're gonna need an awful lot of beer for that, Buck," Steve said.
"Fuck that! You need something stronger. I'm bringing that Russian vodka I got last year."
"The one you put at the back of the cupboard that nobody's allowed to drink anymore?"
"Yeah, that one," Bucky said.
"Is it that bad?" Steve asked.
"You tell me, you're the one practically crying on the phone," Bucky said.
"Yeah, it's that bad," Steve said. There was a comfortable silence for a few seconds before Steve spoke again, this time a lot quieter. "You're the best, Buck."
"I know."
"Have I ever told you how much I love you?" Steve asked.
"Not often enough," Bucky joked. "I'm just around the corner, I'll be there in a few."

"You look like shit," Bucky said when Steve opened the door a few moments later.
"Cheers pal!" Steve said, sarcasm dripping from each word. "You're not exactly a picture yourself!"
"Just shut up," Bucky shouted from the kitchen. Steve could hear him rummaging through the cupboards and could only assume that he was looking for shot glasses.
"You won't find them," Steve shouted back. "I have no idea where they are. I've not seen them for months."
"You're a disaster, Stevie," Bucky said as they walked into the lounge.
"I know, I know." Steve replied, drinking the vodka straight from the bottle. The taste made him pull a face, but it was strong stuff and he was feeling slightly tipsy not long after.
"How are you feeling?" Bucky asked him.
"Like shit," Steve replied. "It feels like somebody took a knife and carved my fucking heart out."
"You were the one that left him, Stevie," Bucky reminded him. "Why'd you do it?"
"I don't fucking know! It was a spur of the moment thing, you know. I was pissed and I said stuff. I didn't really mean any of it! I was gonna call him the next day, but he blocked my fucking number! I would've gone to see him but I was too scared to just turn up on his doorstep and beg for him to take me back! Now he's moved on and I don't have a chance in hell to be with him again," Steve said, close to tears. "It sounds stupid, but as long as I didn't see him with someone else, I thought maybe I had a chance. Now it's all gone. He'll never want me back now! Not while he has her!"
"Oh Stevie," Bucky said, wrapping his arms around Steve. "I'm sorry pal."
"I wish I'd never even done it! If I could go back, I'd undo it all!" Steve said, tears rolling down his cheeks.
"Let's get drunk," Bucky said, handing the vodka back to Steve. "Maybe then you'll feel better."
"I'd like that," Steve said, with the tiniest hint of a smile."

Many, many more drinks later, Bucky and Steve were completely pissed. Steve was sat behind Bucky, drunkenly braiding his hair. It was a sloppy braid, but a braid nonetheless. Bucky was rambling about all sorts. Steve wasn't really listening until Bucky suddenly started ranting about Tony. He turned around and grabbed Steve's face. "He's a prick. You listen to me, Stevie. He's a prick and he doesn't deserve you. You can do so much better than him, I promise."
"What if I don't want better, Buck?" Steve asked quietly. "What if I just want him?"
"You should go after what you want!" Bucky encouraged him.
"What?" Steve asked, shocked.
"If you want him, go after him. He'd be an idiot not to take you back. A massive idiot!" Bucky said.
"Are you sure?" Steve asked tentatively.
"Definitely!" Bucky said, grinning madly.
"How do I go after him?" Steve asked.
"Text him. Right now." Bucky said.
"Right now?" Steve asked. Bucky handed Steve his phone and glared at him until he started typing. Steve wasn't even sure what to say. He had a little bit more to drink, in the hope that some Dutch courage would help him figure out what the fuck to say.

"Did you text him?" Bucky asked.
"Not yet," Steve replied. "I don't now what to say."
"Just tell him how you feeeel," Bucky said.
Heyyyy i miss you like sooooooo fuckign much im still in love with you and i wish I nevre left you it hurts so muhc
"I did it!" Steve said.
"How do you feel?" Bucky asked.
"Better? I don't know. It could just be the vodka."
"Could be," Bucky said.
"Nope, not the vodka. Vodka makes me want to puke," Steve said, as he staggered into the bathroom and threw up. Not long after that, Bucky joined him. They spent a while just lying on the bathroom floor, embracing the cold of the tiles.
"I'm sleepy," Bucky whined, as he tried to get up off the floor. He stumbled towards Steve's bedroom, and Steve heard him flop on the bed. Steve was about to get up and join Bucky when another wave of nausea washed over him. He internally cursed whoever created vodka. Whoever it was, they were evil. Pure evil. Steve had just gotten up off the floor when he heard his phone pinged. He wasn't going to look at it, he assumed it could wait, but something deep inside him told him that he should check and see who it was.

Chapter Text

Tony didn't think he'd been sober for much longer than fifteen minutes in a row. Having said that, he didn't know what day it was or how long it had been since Steve left, so maybe his judgement was a little bit off. He'd been drinking religiously since Steve walked out on him. He knew he ought to stop but he couldn't. Steve made him feel so much, so many feelings that Tony used to think he'd never feel again. Without Steve, he felt empty. It felt like somebody had cut him open and scooped all the good stuff out of him. He was a shell, that's all. A shell full of copious amounts of alcohol and bad decisions. Tony only drank to feel. He hated the taste of liquor and the burning sensation as it filled him up. But it didn't matter how much Tony drank. He could never feel even a fraction of what Steve made him feel. Even though it couldn't help him feel anything, the alcohol did help, in a way. It helped Tony to forget. If he drank enough, which he usually did, it temporarily wiped away the pain and the memories. Tony was able to pretend that Steve was still with him, sleeping in their bed. He could pretend that Steve still loved him, even though deep down, he knew that was impossible. People who love each other don't leave.

Tony was dragged out of his drunken stupor by footsteps on the wooden floor of his hallway.
"Steve?" Tony asked. "Is that you?"
"No, honey, I'm sorry. It's just me," Pepper said gently, as she sat down next to Tony.
"I thought you were Steve," he said, his words slurring together ever so slightly.
"I know. I'm sorry," Pepper said. "Let me get you some water."
"I don't want water, I want Steve!" Tony cried.
"I know, but I can't bring him back," Pepper said. "You need to sober up a little, you can't keep drinking like this."
"I can and I will," Tony mumbled.
"You're going to drink yourself into an early grave!" Pepper scolded him.
"Good," Tony replied.
"No, not good, you have a company to run!" Pepper said.
"We both know that you run the company, Pep. I'm just the pretty face," Tony said.
"Yes, well, the pretty face has a press conference tomorrow afternoon, and he can't still be drunk by then," Pepper said, guiding Tony into bed. "Nat's gonna come see you in the morning to make sure you're alive and not too hungover. I've told her no to give you relationship advice, but you know hat she's like."
"Goodnight, Pep," Tony mumbled.
"Goodnight, Tony," Pepper said as she left.

"Wake up, Tony."
Tony's only reply was a groan, as he burrowed deeper into his duvet.
"You need to get up, or Pepper is going to kill us both."
"Go away, Nat," Tony grumbled. "Nobody likes you."
"You like me, stop lying to yourself. Now get up," Nat said.
"You're the worst and I hate you!" Tony complained.
"I love you too" Nat shouted from the kitchen.
"Are you making coffee?"
"That depends. Are you getting out of bed?"
"Yes," Tony said, far too quickly.
"Then yes," Nat replied. "I know I promised Pepper that I wouldn't give you any unsolicited relationship advice, but I have to. You need to move on. Find somebody new. Try and forget about what happened with Steve. Maybe if you find someone new, it won't hurt so much."
"Do you really think so?" Tony asked, sipping his coffee.
"Yeah, I really do," Nat replied.
"Okay, I trust you," Tony said. "After the press conference, I'll go out and try and meet someone."

"I'm incredibly proud to announce that Stark Industries will be broadening our horizons. While we are famous for creating technology that many people carry around in their pockets, we want to create a different type of everyday technology. As a company, we want to expand to produce life-changing medical technology, such as prosthetics and implants. We want to change people's lives, and we want these changes to be affordable. We aim to work with people who need this technology, in order to make it the best that we can be."

When Tony stepped down from the podium and away from the flashing cameras, all he wanted to do was go home. The blinding lights and endless questions had been a bit too much, even for Tony. He was very used to press conferences, but that didn't make them any less tiring. Despite every bone in his body aching and the overwhelming urge to nap, Tony still decided to go out to a club for a while. He did, after all, promise Nat that he'd try and find someone new, even if it was just for one night. He wished more than anything that he could text Nat and tell her that he didn't feel up to it, but he knew she'd just keep pestering him if he did. Half an hour, he vowed to himself. He'd go for half an hour. Talk to a couple of people, and if someone wanted to go home with him, he'd let them. Tony just prayed that it would be enough to get Nat off his case.

Chapter Text

Tony wasn't being particularly choosy when he picked a club to dance at, but he must have picked a decent one. He couldn't remember the name of the club, but the neon lights filled him with energy, the music filled him with happiness, and the alcohol gave him a buzz. He wasn't drunk, not yet, but he was definitely tipsy. Tipsy was good. For Tony, tipsy meant confident and fun. Drunk meant sloppy, emotional, and out of control. The music inspired Tony to go dance, which wasn't something he did very often. He found a handsome man that looked about his age and pulled him onto the dancefloor. They danced together for a while, but he reminded Tony too much of Steve. After a while, he decided to start dancing with girls instead to avoid the heartache and the memories. He found a pretty girl who went by the name of Skye and decided to spend the rest of the evening dancing with her. Sometime in between dancing and drinking, she kissed him. Sometime in between drinking and dancing, he kissed her. Sometime before 1 am, they left together.

Tony woke up with a pounding headache, a foul taste in his mouth, an empty bed, and approximately a hundred and twenty-seven notifications. Before he could even look at his phone, Tony decided he needed coffee and painkillers. After a mediocre cup of coffee and a little bit more aspirin than is technically safe, Tony felt able, if not entirely willing, to check his phone. The first thing he saw was seven missed calls from Pepper, which filled him with dread. Tony's finger hovered over the call button as he weighed up the pros and cons of calling her back. Almost instantly, he decided that it would be better to face her wrath sooner rather than later. With a little trepidation, he called her back, putting the phone on speaker so that he could smother it with a pillow if necessary.
"Do you know what you've done?" Pepper asked, without even saying hello.
"Good morning to you too," Tony replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"It's nearly half two in the afternoon," Pepper said, not sounding very amused. "So it is!" Tony said, slightly shocked he'd managed to sleep that late. "To answer your question, no, I have absolutely no idea."
"For fucks sake," Pepper muttered, intending for Tony not to hear, and failing. "I'd better come over to coordinate damage control then, hadn't I?"
"That would probably be best," Tony said, but Pepper had already hung up.

"Right we need to fix this whole situation," Pepper said, the very instant Tony opened the door. "And what situation would that be?" Tony asked, still none the wiser.
"Wow, you really don't remember, do you?" Pepper asked. Before Tony even had a chance to answer, she spoke again. "Have you even checked your phone?"
"Not exactly..."
"Okay, just how much of last night do you remember?" Pepper asked, in a tone that resembled the one she reserved for her three-year-old niece.
"I remember Nat bullying me into going out. There was quite a bit of alcohol involved. I danced with a pretty guy, but I ditched him for somebody else. I can't remember who though," Tony admitted.
"You posted two photos with a girl called Skye. In one of them, you were making out with her, in another, you were cuddling in bed," Pepper said.
"Oh."
"Yeah, oh," Pepper said. "Obviously people shared them all over social media, the press got hold of them, and now you're all over the headlines. Reporters are claiming she's your girlfriend, that she's the reason you and Steve broke up, and even that you cheated on Steve with her!"
"You know that's ridiculous!" Tony cried.
"Yeah, obviously I do," Pepper replied. "But the morons who write these articles don't. I'll put a statement out to clear everything up. I'll make it clear that you're not dating and that she had nothing to do with your breakup with Steve. Sound good?"
"Yeah, that sounds great," Tony said, sounding very halfhearted.

Once Pepper left, Tony was able to actually focus on the events of the previous night. He'd aimed to forget about Steve, just for one night, but it all went terribly wrong. Steve was all that Tony could think about. He just couldn't stop thinking about the way Steve left him. The fact that Skye left before he'd even woken up made it all worse. Maybe Tony was just the kind of person that nobody wanted to be with. Maybe he was just the kind of person that everybody leaves. Maybe he was destined to be alone forever. That was a depressing thought, but it was starting to look like the truth. Everybody that Tony had ever loved, or even *liked*, had left him, usually for someone else. He wanted to get drunk again, to forget about all of the shit going on in his life. He considered drinking solo but decided that was a bit too depressing. After a moment of thought, Tony decided that Nat was his only friend that would join him for depression drinks. He sent her a text, specifically asking her to bring her fancy Russian vodka, the stuff that's more alcohol than anything else. Surprisingly, she agreed and said she would be there in less than ten minutes.

"Why are we drinking, exactly?" Nat asked after she arrived.
"My life's a mess and I'd really like to forget about it all for a while. No better way to forget than with alcohol," Tony replied.
"Fair point," Nat said, as she drank straight from the bottle.
"Gimme that," Tony said, snatching the bottle out of her hands.
"So what happened?" Nat asked. "Apart from all the stuff about that girl you met last night."
"That's exactly what happened! She was gone before I even woke up!" Tony exclaimed. "It reminded me of Steve, the way he just left with no warning whatsoever. I'm starting to think that everyone will just leave me!"
"I'll never leave you," Nat replied, taking the vodka away from Tony. "And neither will Pepper. You're stuck with us both now, until the day you die!"
"Okay, stop being a sap and start drinking! If I can still remember my own name in half an hour, I'll be bitterly disappointed," Tony said, motioning for Nat to hand him the alcohol.

The rest of the night passed by in a blur and, true to his promise, Tony could hardly remember his own name. Luckily for both of them, Nat had only brought one bottle of vodka and they'd run out before they could cause any serious damage to either their liver or their memory. The sound of Tony's phone snapped them both pout of their drunken stupor. He wondered who it was, but assumed that whoever it was, they could probably wait. Then a little voice in the back of his mind said that it might be Steve. It was probably wrong, but it didn't hurt to check. Sure enough, there was a text from Steve. A sloppy, drunken text, but a text nonetheless.
Heyyyy i miss you like sooooooo fuckign much im still in love with you and i wish I nevre left you it hurts so muhc
Tony could hardly believe his eyes. Steve was still in love with him! He had to text Steve back, and he had to do it right then. He knew that both Pepper and Nat would disapprove, but he really didn't care what they thought.
Hey, I miss you too. You should come over ;)
It was more by luck than judgement that there were no spelling mistakes (thank fuck for autocorrect) and Tony just hoped that he'd replied before Steve had fallen asleep.

Chapter Text

Steve startled awake to the sound of birdsong, which immediately filled him with confusion and uneasiness. He lived in an apartment block that was shrouded by nothing more than other apartment blocks. There were hardly ever any birds nearby, so to hear so many of them singing so vibrantly, it threw him off guard. When Steve had woken up enough to actually take in his surroundings, he was taken aback even more. Tony was lying in his bed next to him. No, he was in Tony's bed! At Tony's place! What the fuck was he doing there? All Steve could remember about the night before was that he got drunk with Bucky. Something else must have happened for him to end up in Tony's bed. All of a sudden, a wave of recollection washed over him. He drunk-texted Tony. How could he be so fucking stupid? Steve cursed himself for not asking Bucky to take his phone away before they started drinking. Still, how had texting Tony led to him sleeping in his bed? It was all a bit of a blur, and Steve couldn't really remember anything after the vomiting and the text back. The text back! Tony texted him back! He went to Tony's place and they kissed and cuddled and drank some more. Steve had a vague recollection of sex taking place, but he wasn't sure if it actually happened or if he just really wanted it to.

As much as Steve wanted to curl up next to Tony and go back to sleep, he knew he couldn't. He might still be in love with Tony, but Tony was under no obligation to return those feelings. A drunken mistake couldn't be misinterpreted as romantic attraction. Steve simply refused to let himself get caught up in the middle of the conversation that would inevitably follow if he was still there when Tony woke up. He could almost hear Tony's apologetic tone. It would be mortifying. As slowly and carefully as physically possible, Steve snuck out from under the covers and started gathering up his clothes. It was only then that he noticed he was wearing a pair of Tony's sweatpants. He felt a slight twinge of pain in his chest at the thought of never wearing Tony's clothes again, but he refused to let himself get all sentimental. Steve carefully folded Tony's clothes and replaced them with his own. Once he was dressed, he decided to take a couple of aspirin to ease the headache that was beginning to linger like a dark rain cloud. Steve remembered enough about Tony's place to know where he kept the aspirin and the glasses. He poured himself a glass of water and winced when the pipes groaned dreadfully. He swore under his breath, hating himself for forgetting that the pipes grumble if you turn the tap on the wrong way. Steve just hoped that the noise wasn't enough to wake Tony.

Tony woke up to an empty, yet warm, bed. He was a little confused, as he didn't remember inviting anyone over. He also knew that whoever had come over hadn't been gone long, otherwise the bed would've gone cold. He woke up properly when he heard the pipes groan in a most unpleasant manner. That meant that whoever came over was still there! Tony was surprisingly relieved that he hadn't been abandoned again, but it was weighed down by a sadness deep in his chest. Whoever it was in his kitchen, it wasn't Steve. Steve knew the correct way to turn the tap on to avoid making the pipes creak. After lying in bed for a few moments more, drowning in his sorrows and missing Steve terribly, Tony decided that it was probably a good idea to get up and see who the hell he invited over. Despite wracking his brains, he simply couldn't remember anything about the night before. His best guess was that he got drunk and texted some random stranger who came over and fucked him before they both passed out. Unfortunately, that was the best he could come up with until he put some clothes on and went to see who it was.

When Tony emerged into the hallway and saw Steve struggling to put his sneakers on, he felt a wave of emotion bubble up inside of him. At first, he thought he might explode like some sort of emotional volcano, but he didn't. He wanted to speak, but he didn't know what to say. Meanwhile, Steve simply looked like a deer that had been caught in headlights. He didn't dare to move, or speak, or even breathe.
"I thought you knew the right way to turn the tap on," Tony said, feeling like an idiot because that was the only thing he could think to say. That seemed to snap Steve out of his trance, as he suddenly started rushing to get his shoes on and get out the door.
"I'm sorry, I'm really, really sorry," Steve said, stumbling over his words almost as much as he stumbled over his feet.
"It was a mistake, we were both drunk!" Steve said, unable to stop rambling.
"I know we were," Tony said, hoping that Steve would just shut up. It was so much harder for him, having to listen to Steve regret everything that had happened the night before.
"If we were sober, it never would've happened!" Steve said, almost as if he was trying to justify his drunken mistakes. 'Because you hate me,' the unspoken ending of the sentence hung in the air between the two, not quite reaching Tony and not quite escaping Steve.
'Of course it wouldn't,' Tony thought. 'Because you hate me.' Neither of them spoke for a while, but Steve's apology felt heavy. It weighed them both down, to the point where they thought they might drown in their own emotions. Steve in his guilt, Tony in his sadness.
"Just go," Tony said, forcing the words past the lump in his throat. They cut Steve like a knife, but he accepted them nevertheless. He didn't say anything, there was nothing left to say. He just nodded and walked out the door, leaving everything he'd ever loved behind.

Chapter Text

Steve had just left Tony's place and was heading towards the nearest bus stop. Unfortunately for steve, the next bus wasn't due for over an hour. After a brief moment of deliberation, he decided to phone Bucky to come and pick him up. Steve rummaged through his pockets again and again, but he couldn't find his phone. He was sure he had it with him, but if he couldn't find it, then maybe he didn't. If he didn't have it, then it had to still be at Tony's. Shit. Steve did not want to go back, especially since Tony had made it explicitly clear that he didn't want Steve there. Steve realised he could probably survive without his phone for a few days, but he knew he'd eventually have to go back to Tony's to pick it up. It was probably better for Steve to get it all over with. Rip the bandaid off and all that jazz. Steve took a deep breath in, turned around, and summoned all the courage he could muster as he headed back towards Tony's door.

When Steve arrived at Tony's door, he hesitated for a moment. He didn't want to knock and risk being turned away. He still had a spare key for Tony's front door, even though he wasn't really supposed to. He told Tony that he lost it. In reality, he just didn't want to give it back. Tony would be fuming if he found out Steve still had a key, but at least it meant he might be able to sneak in, grab his phone, and sneak out, without being seen by Tony. Maybe. The moment Steve turned the key in the lock, he regretted it. He could hear Tony sobbing from the hallway and he hated it. It felt like someone was reaching inside his chest and clawing at his heart. It hurt in ways Steve had never felt before, ways he didn't know it was possible to hurt. He regretted every single event that has led up to that moment. The breakup, the drinking, the sex, everything. The guilt gnawed a hole in Steve's chest. He wanted to just grab his phone and leave, but his heart ached at hearing Tony cry. Against his better judgement, Steve poked his head around the corner and saw Tony curled up in a ball on the floor, sobbing his eyes out. Steve knew that he couldn't just leave when Tony was so upset. He had to do something, he had to help.

"Are you okay?" Steve asked, making Tony jump a little.
"Go away," Tony said through the tears.
"No, I want to help," Steve insisted.
"Leave." Tony lifted his head from his hands and looked Steve in the eye. His stare was colder than ice and Steve felt a chill in the air.
"No. I'm not leaving when you're upset," Steve said, sitting down next to Tony.
"Why?" Tony asked. "Why do you care? Why won't you just leave me alone?" Steve could hardly believe what he'd heard. He knew that Tony hated him, but that didn't sound like hatred.
"I'm still here because I care about you!" Steve said, exasperated. "Is that so difficult to believe?" At this, Tony started to cry once more. Steve, not knowing what to do, put his arm around Tony and gave him an awkward hug.
"If you care about me, why did you leave me?" Tony asked, sniffling.
"I was scared," Steve admitted. "Everything was starting to happen so quickly and instead of acting rationally about it, I panicked and left. I was gonna call you the next morning to try and fix things but you blocked my number. I as too scared to turn up at your door and admit I was wrong. I'm really sorry, Tones."
Tony didn't say anything, he just sniffled and wiped his nose on his sleeve.
"I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. I've missed you so much I can't even put it into words. I wish more than anything that I could have you back. I know you've moved on and I'm happy for you, but it still hurts. It hurts so much," Steve barely got to the end of his sentence before tears started rolling down his cheeks.
"I haven't moved on," Tony whispered.
"What?" Steve knew he must've misheard Tony, because what he heard couldn't be true.
"I've not moved on," Tony repeated. "All I've done since we broke up is think about you and miss you and love you. I still love you, you idiot! I always have and I always will, until the day I die and probably a long time after too."
"I love you too, more than I can ever say. I'll always love you Tones," Steve said, as he pulled Tony closer and kissed him. The kiss felt like everything Steve had been missing. It was fierce and passionate, but also gentle and sweet. It was Tony, and Steve couldn't have been happier to have him back.