Archive of Our Own

Things start going downhill only a few short weeks after the VMAs.

Later—much later—Tony will think that maybe it was destined to happen this way. Things had been… tense between him and Bucky since the awards. He knows what Steve had said—and Bucky had confirmed it too—about Bucky not doing anything to stop Killian from getting up there because he didn’t realize what was happening, but there’s a part of him that can’t help but be resentful of it anyway. There were four other people up there on that stage with him, but Tony had never felt so alone. His boyfriend, his alpha, should have been the one to put a stop to it.

And he knows that Bucky hadn’t liked that Tony hadn’t responded to any of his messages or calls that night. They’d fought about it, actually. Their very first fight. Bucky’s take on the whole thing is that he should have been informed that Tony was going dark, not waiting for first Ana to text him that Tony didn’t want company and then for Steve to invite him over anyway. Tony is still of the opinion that he can do whatever he wants and Bucky might be his alpha but he doesn’t own him. This isn’t the 1830s for god’s sake. They hadn’t even really resolved the argument. They’d gotten too heated and ended up having sex on the couch and just kind of let it go afterwards.

But Tony has noticed an increase in the number of disagreements since then. Bucky keeps watching him like he’s waiting for Tony to disappear again, and it makes him feel smothered. And every time Bucky has an interview, Tony can’t help but wonder if he’s going to stand up for Tony like he didn’t at the awards. Even Bucky’s SNL monologue includes a reference to what he thinks he should have done to Killian, and it’s sweet, but it just feels too little too late.

“It’s okay, life is a tough crowd,” he sings under his breath, strumming a purple guitar while he waits in the hallway for Obie to get out of his meeting.

“Tony!” someone says delightedly. “What a pleasant surprise seeing you here!”

He looks up to see Sunset. Somehow, he’s unsurprised to see her. She’s been popping up more often, he thinks, though everyone else thinks she’s been around just as much as she always is and he only thinks he’s seeing more often because she’s on his mind.

He smiles at her, puts the guitar down on the chair next to him, and stands up. “Sunset,” he says warmly. “How’ve you been?”

“Oh, you’re always so sweet,” she coos. “Checking up on me first. I’m doing just fine. Are you recording here today?”

He nods. “We’re working on my next album,” he says. “I got here early, wanted to run some album stuff by Obie.” Obie won’t sign off on the album name that Tony likes—Enchanted—saying that it’s too airy fairy for Tony’s third studio album. He should be going for a more grown up title, so Tony had taken another look at the track listing and come up with another couple of ideas—Better Than Revenge, which is a joke, obviously, but also The Story of Us and Timeless and Speak Now.

“Another album?” Sunset laughs, a little tinkle that reminds him of bells. “Sweet boy, you have to slow down a bit. Leave a little room for the rest of us to get things out!”

Tony politely doesn’t point out that releasing music is his job, and with what’ll probably be two years in between Fearless and this one, he thinks he’s doing pretty well.

“What’re you doing here?” he asks instead. “You’re not signed with Bad Stane.”

She laughs again, and it makes him feel warm. He doesn’t make a lot of people laugh like that. “No, but I was in the area, and I’m recording for my next album too. You use the studio space you can get, right?”

He wouldn’t know; Obie is very firm that Tony records only at Bad Stane studios. But he doesn’t want to look naïve in front of this incredibly worldly alpha who has so much time on him, so he just nods. Sunset’s eyes gleam like she knows what he’s hiding, but she lets it go easily enough.

“Have you thought any more about what I said? We’re both running out of time if we want to get a song made before our next albums,” she says.

Tony grimaces. “Obie would never approve.” And it’s true. He’d barely approved of the collaborations on the last album, and only then because Tony didn’t have a whole lot of other songs ready to go. As soon as Tony came up with Better Than Revenge, he practically threw Electric Touch out the window.

“And you do everything Stane tells you to do?” Sunset asks, raising an eyebrow. Tony glances away, not sure what to tell her. She sighs and reaches out to fiddle with his collar. “Sweet boy, I know you’re young, but he’s holding you back. You’re already on your third album. You should be taking risks, not languishing in little omega cowboy boots.”

“I like country music,” he protests. Yeah, it’s kind of frustrating that Obie keeps turning down the new sounds he wants to put on the album, but he’s been pushing back against those, and he’s winning! He doesn’t need to go full rock or whatever it is that Sunset thinks he should be doing.

“Right,” she says, smiling pityingly at him. “Of course. Well, what about that alpha of yours? He grovel enough to get back in your good graces?”

Tony blinks at her. “…Grovel?” he asks hesitantly.

“You mean he hasn’t even apologized for that mess?” she gasps. “After he didn’t do anything to stop Killian from ruining such a lovely speech?”

“He… he said he didn’t understand what was happening,” Tony argues, feeling obliged to defend his boyfriend even though he’s been thinking that since that night. “He said he thought it was part of the show.”

“Tony, don’t tell me you believe that bullshit,” Sunset says, clicking her tongue. “Everyone knew what was happening. That man was absolutely awful, and as your alpha, Barnes should have been right there to stop him. I would have, if I’d had any right to do so.”

It’s the first time anyone other than his friends has said something like that to him, and he can’t help but feel a little flutter in his chest when she says it. “You would?” he asks hopefully, biting his lip.

“For a sweet, little omega like you?” Sunset asks. She kisses his cheek, and Tony does nothing to stop her. “I would’ve done anything. Here.” She pulls a business card out of her purse and hands it to him. “Give me a call if you decide you’re done dating little boys and want to date a real alpha. Or if you’re finished letting Stane tell you what to do.”

She saunters off, and Tony means to throw her card in the trash. But somehow, he finds himself tucking it away in his pocket instead.

He doesn’t mean to text her. It’s pretty obvious that she wants to date him, that she wants to take Bucky’s place, and he doesn’t know how he feels about it. On the one hand, it’s almost crazy—and more than a little bit tantalizing—to think that a beautiful, mature, veteran performer such as Sunset Bain would have any interest in someone as young and inexperienced as him. It makes him feel mature, like he’s not the omega who’s only been with one other alpha before this or the omega who only just recently moved into his own house but still winds up seeing his surrogate parents all the time. He’s an adult in Sunset’s eyes, desirable and old enough to imagine as a real partner.

But on the other hand, he has a good thing going with Bucky. Bucky is his own age. He’s kind and handsome and really cares about Tony and… and they’re fighting all the time. It’s like something was knocked loose between them after the VMAs, like they were put out of sync with each other and can’t find their way back.

And he can’t help but imagine how much better it would be with Sunset, who’s been pursuing him for over a year now. That means something, doesn’t it? She isn’t just letting him go so easily. She must really have feelings for him, and—she wouldn’t be so patronizing, right? She wouldn’t stand between him and any other alpha he’s talking to the way Bucky has started doing. She would value his opinions on his own security team and act like he can make his own decisions on which events he attends without bringing up the possibility of Aldrich Killian being there and what he’ll do if he is.

So he finds himself texting her. She listens to him. It starts with his complaints about whatever he and Bucky are fighting about this time  and then it’s how he feels about losing out on an award that he absolutely should have gotten and finally ending up at just whatever he’s feeling, but every time she listens to him. More than just listens to him. She responds. She tells him that he deserves better and points out why the things that Bucky does aren’t nearly enough. And he can’t stop thinking about what dating her would be like, how much better it would be with someone who isn’t so caught up in trying to protect him or whatever Bucky thinks he’s doing now. How much better it would be with someone who views him as an equal partner.

Tony doesn’t have any nominations tonight. He’s only here at this award show out of an invitation (and maybe kind of because he needs to talk to Sunset), and he shows up alone. It creates a furor but not a huge one. Bucky is, after all, a very busy actor who left only a few days ago to start shooting the next Daybreak film. No one could possibly expect him to be back in Nashville for an award show that Tony isn’t even nominated for. These people are only asking him if they broke up because they’re looking for any hint of a scandal, something that’ll help them sell papers. They don’t actually know.

He keeps his mouth shut and makes his way down the carpet, pausing for photos and smiling enigmatically when they ask him about Bucky. Everyone will know eventually, but he just wants to keep it to himself tonight. Well, himself and Sunset.

To his relief, he finds Sunset almost immediately. She’s talking to another artist when he approaches, but she waves them off as soon as she spots him. Her face lights up in a stunningly gorgeous smile, all red lips and smokey eyeshadow.

“Tony, sweet boy!” she greets, bending down to kiss his cheek. “Tell me, have you dumped that undeserving alpha of yours yet?”

She asks him that every single time they text, and Tony has been putting her off so far with a light reminder that he’s trying to work things out with Bucky after their stumbling block. But no more. After yet another fight with Bucky last night, this time about him attending tonight’s award show while Bucky is on the other side of the country, he’s done with all that and looking forward to the future, to Sunset.

“Sure did,” he says, putting his hands in his pockets. “Last night. When are you taking me out?”

Sunset looks taken aback, eyes wide and mouth dropping open in a small o. For a moment, Tony worries that he’s misread her intentions somehow, that all of her little comments about how she would treat him better were just that—comments, and he’s thrown away something good for something that doesn’t even exist. But then her surprise melts away into a satisfied, pleased smile.

“Well,” she says, running her hand down his arm, “looks like I’m taking you out tonight.”

“Have you lost your fucking mind?” Steve demands as soon as Tony answers the phone.

Tony winces at the volume and pulls the phone away from his ear slightly. “I haven’t lost anything,” he says defensively.

“No? So that wasn’t you who fucking Dear John-ed my best friend?”

“Okay, first of all,” he snaps. “I didn’t send him any letters, so there’s no Dear John-ing going on here. Secondly, I didn’t even break up with him over a phone call. I facetimed him, which is more courtesy than anyone’s ever given me, so get off your high horse. And thirdly, I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware that I had to run all of my relationship decisions past you. I can break up with who I want when I want for whatever reason I want, and you can’t stop me.”

“Damn it, Tony,” Steve growls. “I think I do get a say in it when it’s my best friend whose heart you just broke.”

There’s a small stirring of guilt in the pit of his stomach but Tony ruthlessly shoves it down. He has no guarantee that he and Bucky would have worked things out if Sunset hadn’t come back into the picture. In fact, it’s very likely that it would have ended right around now anyway, so it’s fine. He didn’t do anything wrong.

Yeah.

“You said you wanted a standup guy,” Steve says, quieter, when Tony doesn’t immediately respond. “So what the hell was so wrong with Bucky that you had to dump him like that?”

“Nothing,” he denies. “There’s—Bucky was great.”

“So why’d you—”

“Look, I’m allowed to not be in love with him anymore, okay?” Tony exclaims, exasperated and guilty and loathing himself for feeling guilty about putting himself first. “I’m allowed to be upset that he didn’t defend me at the VMAs.”

“The VM—Tony, is that what this is about? You know that Bucky—”

“I!” he shouts over Steve’s argument. “Can do what I want! Sunset said so.”

Steve is quiet for a long moment. Tony can’t figure out what he’s thinking, and he drums his fingers anxiously on the counter. He knows that Steve is angry about Bucky, but there’s still a part of him that wants him to like his new girlfriend.

“Sunset?” Steve says eventually. “Sunset Bain? That’s who you’ve been getting relationship advice from?”

“Not just advice,” Tony mutters sullenly.

Steve’s breath catches. “I’m coming over.”

“What? No!” he protests.

“No, I’m coming over. I want to see your face when you tell me that you dumped my best friend—someone who was perfect for you, who was never going to break your heart—for a woman almost twice your age.”

“Okay, well, that’s an exaggeration,” Tony says sarcastically. “She’s only twelve years older than me.”

“Yeah, and the fact that you don’t see what’s wrong about that makes it worse. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

“Well, I won’t answer!” he retorts, but Steve has already hung up. He snarls at the phone and hurls it at the couch. Unfortunately, it’s one of the StarkPhone models that he personally modified, so it doesn’t break, just bounces lightly. He doesn’t want Steve to show up here. He doesn’t want to be treated like a child who doesn’t know his own mind. He does know it, and it’s made up. He wants to be with Sunset. He likes that he can look at her and not feel like he has to assure her he’s not mad at her for what happened with Aldrich, the way he had with Bucky. He likes her, and he wants his best friend to like her too. But apparently that’s too much to ask because god forbid he decide to break up with his last boyfriend for someone who’ll treat him like he deserves.

He could just follow through on his threat and not answer the door when Steve gets here, but he knows better than to think that that’ll be the end of it. Steve is a dog with a bone when he feels like he has to speak up about something. Besides, he wants to get this over with now so he can skip to the part where Steve is okay with all of this, and Tony never has to hear him complain about it again.

“You’re an idiot,” Steve says flatly when Tony opens the door.

He’s so irritated by it that he almost slams it shut in his face again, but he stands back and replies, with no small amount of snark, “It’s so nice to see you, Steve. Do come in.”

Tony has only lived in this house for a few weeks given that the tour only just wrapped up in November, but Steve has already been over enough times that he’s completely familiar with the layout. He toes his shoes off and stalks toward the living room, throwing over his shoulder, “You don’t get to be insulted when you were that callous to Bucky.”

“I can be as insulted as I like. It’s my relationship you’re insulting.”

“Yeah,” Steve snaps, “with Sunset fucking Bain, who’s so obviously using you, Tony; I don’t know how you don’t see it.”

“She’s not using me,” he protests, almost bumping into Steve when he whirls around. “She’s been interested in me for almost two years.”

“You don’t think that’s at all creepy? You were nineteen when you guys met, Tony. Most thirty year olds aren’t interested in literal teenagers. You’re not even old enough to drink yet. What on earth could you even have in common with her?”

“We’re both performers!”

“Bucky’s a performer!”

“Bucky didn’t do anything when Aldrich was telling the entire world how much I didn’t deserve the award I got.” Steve starts to say something, but Tony keeps going, absolutely furious that he just won’t. let it. go. “And you know what? I’m allowed to still be hurt by that! Everyone keeps saying I have to forgive Aldrich because my reputation will tank if I’m mad at him. I have to forgive the other presenters because they were surprised. I have to forgive Bucky because he’s my boyfriend. The only person who’s ever let me feel the way I want is Sunset! So why won’t you just accept that I do actually know what I’m doing here and shut up about it!” He’s shouting by the end of it, loud enough that the pictures on the wall rattle in their frames.

“Because I don’t want you to get hurt!” Steve roars back at him. “She’s using you! Just like everyone else you dated! You should be running from her as fast as you can, but you’re not. And she’s going to walk away at the end of this, and you’ll be crying on my shoulder again, and I don’t want to see you like that. I hate seeing you like that; please don’t make me have to see you look like that again.”

“She won’t!” Tony yells. “Sunset’s different! She loves me. A real friend would get that, but if you’re so upset by the idea of actually having to act like my friend, then fine! You don’t have to be there for me. I can handle it on my own! So get out!”

“Tony—”

“Get. Out,” Tony orders, pointing at the door. “I don’t want to hear anything else out of you. I know what I’m doing. I want this. And if you won’t be happy for me, then I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

Steve looks at him for a long time and then sighs. “Alright,” he says quietly, defeatedly. “I’ll go. But Tony, you’re making a mistake.”

“I’m not,” he says, folding his arms across his chest. “But thanks for your faith in me.”

“Steve doesn’t like you,” Tony says quietly when he’s at Sunset’s apartment that night. With the tour over, he has a lot more time to spend with her, and he’s taking advantage of it. He’ll be back on the press circuit soon enough for the release of his third album (still untitled); right now, he wants to spend as much time with his girlfriend as he can.

To his surprise, Sunset stiffens, lifting herself away from him. She’s frowning, more than he thought she would have given that it’s not her friend who’s disapproving of their relationship.

“Steve,” she repeats. “Your… guitarist?”

“He’s my friend too,” Tony says, though he thinks guiltily of the argument he’d had with him earlier. Steve is a pretty loyal guy, and stubborn on top of that, but he doesn’t know if that might have been his last straw. For all he knows, they’re not friends anymore, just because Tony broke up with Bucky, which… hurts. More than breaking up with Bucky had. He hadn’t thought that Steve would choose sides like that, and he knows that Steve and Bucky have been friends for decades, but he’d thought that he meant enough to him that he wouldn’t just toss him aside because they disagreed with each other.

“You… told your friend about us?” Sunset checks, still frowning.

It’s Tony’s turn to frown, levering himself up on his elbows. It makes him feel less vulnerable than when he’s laying down, and right now, he feels pretty vulnerable. He feels cold, wondering if he somehow read this all wrong. If it’s not as serious as Sunset had made it sound when she was spinning pretty stories about what they could be like together.

“Well, yes,” he says slowly. Has he somehow already messed this all up? Is she going to kick him out now for doing something no one told him he wasn’t supposed to? “He’s my friend. We’re—” He gestures between Sunset and himself—“dating.”

“I know, sweet boy, but—” Sunset huffs and runs her hand through her hair. “I thought this might be something we could keep between the two of us for a while.”

Most thirty year olds aren’t interested in literal teenagers, Steve’s voice reminds him in his mind. He gives her a doubtful look. “Why?” he asks carefully. “Don’t you want everyone to know that we’re together?”

Sunset pauses and gives him an assessing look before a smile blooms across her face. “Of course,” she murmurs, leaning in to kiss him. Her hair drapes around them, enveloping him in her now-familiar scent of calla lilies. This close, the scent is overpowering, almost nauseating, in its strength, but he reminds himself that that’s just how her scent is. He can’t judge someone for the strength of their scent. “But, baby boy, you’re so young. We both know you’re mature for your age, everything’s above board, but not everyone will see it like that. They’ll try to tell you I’m too old for you, what could I possibly want with someone as young as you, what could we possibly have in common.”

It's almost exactly what Steve had told him earlier that day, and his mind grows more uneasy. Sunset must read the turmoil in his expression because her face softens. She kisses him again, deep and lingering until Tony is clutching at her arms, softly panting underneath her.

“Baby boy, if you really want to tell everyone, we can do that,” she murmurs, caressing his cheek. “I just thought we might like to keep it to ourselves for a while, something special that’s just for us. People might not understand when we tell them at first, and after all that negative press you’ve gotten over the last few months, I thought we might like to stave it off for awhile. But if you want to tell everyone, then I’ll tell my publicist to write up a statement first thing tomorrow.”

Tony chews on his lip, thinking it over, and then decides, “No, that’s okay.” Sunset’s just trying to protect him, he can see that now, and he appreciates it. “We don’t have to tell anyone right away. Actually—” He looks up at her shyly—“What if we announce it by writing that song together?”

Sunset’s eyes light up. “Is that what you want?” she asks, kissing him again as she presses him back into the pillows. “You’re finally ready to write our song?”

“Yeah,” he says decisively, winding his arms around her neck. “Fuck what Obie says. I want to write this song with you. I’m ready.”

Sunset’s penthouse condo in Nashville has several music rooms, including her own recording studio. They’re not using the recording studio at the moment, though. They’re not even using one of the rooms with any instruments in it. Instead, they’re sitting in a warm room with a lot of natural lighting from the skylights Sunset had had put in a few years ago that she uses specifically for writing songs.

Tony has never written a song without an instrument close at hand for him to get some of the melody out while he’s working on it, but Sunset says that she hates doing that. She always starts with the words and then works on the melody afterwards. It’s her album that their collaboration will be going on, so Tony doesn’t say anything when she states that she gets to decide how they’ll write the song, so they’re following her method. He’s sure that this is only the first collaboration of many, so when they work on a collab for one of his albums, he’ll do things the way he wants.

“I always start with a title,” Sunset tells him, sweeping into the room with a tray of cheese and crackers and a pot of tea. Tony doesn’t say anything about the tea; he’s much more of a coffee drinker, but Sunset had again pointed out that it’s a song for her album, so she gets to pick the snacks. “Everything else just flows from that.”

For Tony, the title always comes when he’s writing the hook, but again, it’s not his song and he’ll do things differently when it’s his turn, so he just asks, “So what’s the title for our song?”

“Half of My Heart,” Sunset says promptly before her mouth twists. “I can feel that it’ll be a hit, but I can’t quite nail down the concept. I keep coming back to being torn between two people, but that doesn’t feel right for a collab.”

“Right,” Tony says slowly. It really is very different from how he does things, but Sunset has years of experience in this industry, so who is he to judge? “What about feeling torn between one relationship instead? Half of your heart is all in, jumping in feet first, but the other half of your heart wants to take things slowly, and—”

“And I can’t keep loving you with half of my heart,” Sunset finishes. She snaps her fingers at him. “Tony, sweet boy, you’re an absolute genius. I knew we’d work so well together.”

He glows under her praise, turning his head into her fingers on his hair. “We do,” he agrees. Take that, Steve.

Dating Sunset is… quiet, in a way that he wasn’t quite expecting. Not that dating Bucky was ever loud, but Sunset has always given him the impression that she likes going out and doing things. Before dating him, she was always getting photographed at expensive restaurants and gallery openings. It was a change from her soft rock music, but he’d just assumed that she had a taste for the finer things in life, that’s all.

But because they’re keeping things between them instead of making a public announcement that they’re dating, they tend to stay inside more often than not. Which isn’t to say that she’s a cheap date! Sunset is still very worldly in a way that Tony isn’t, and their dates reflect that. But dating Sunset means buying expensive chocolates from exclusive boutiques and sipping two thousand dollar bottles of wine (she doesn’t mind that he's still underage; she just says that it makes him more cultured than his peers since he’s already getting a taste for good wine) on cashmere picnic blankets in front of her fireplace before she strips down to lingerie that costs more than her penthouse and leads him back to bed.

And writing.

They do a lot of writing. He hadn’t expected that they would do this much writing when he started dating her. He supposes it makes sense, given that they both want their song to be the very best that it can be despite their very different sounds, but it’s still more writing than he was expecting. To be fair, though, they keep getting distracted by each other and winding up in the bedroom, so maybe a lot of it just comes down to them.

“Half of my heart’s got a hold on the situation,” he says, walking around the top of the bar in Sunset’s songwriting room. He’d been sitting on top of it originally, but he’d felt the need to pace starting about ten minutes ago, and it’d been easier to just get up on top of it instead of jumping down. He feels kind of tall like this—he’s tall for an omega already, but this is new.

“That’s not bad,” Sunset hums, pulling her auburn hair over her shoulder as she scribbles the lyric down onto one of the many scraps of paper lying around the room.

“Yeah, not bad,” he says, drumming his fingers against his thigh. “But I think we can do better.”

“Like what—Tony, please mind where you’re walking,” Sunset says shortly, eyeing him.

“Huh? Oh,” he says, noticing the tap he’s been getting closer to—closer, but not actually close. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to knock anything over.”

“Those fixtures are made out of diamond,” she says, sharp and pointed.

“Okay,” he says slowly, drawing the word out. “Then, I think we’d be more worried about me being hurt if I bumped into them.” He grins to show that he’s joking, but Sunset doesn’t even crack a smile. “Okay, then.” He turns around and heads back in the other direction. “Alright, so I don’t know how I feel about ‘hold.’ I feel like it’s too easy to lose the enunciation and sounds like ‘hole’ and that just doesn’t make any sense. What about ‘grip’? Half of my heart’s got a grip on the situation. You good down there?”

“Hmm?” Sunset asks, looking up from her watch. “Oh, of course. I just have plans with a few friends tonight. Alphas Night Out, you know how it is.”

“Oh,” Tony says, taken aback. “I didn’t realize that you were going out tonight.”

She smiles sweetly at him. “I don’t have to run everything by you, do I? Come on, I’ll walk you to the door.”

“Yeah, of course,” he says as he jumps down, trying to process that she’s kicking him out without warning while they’re finally making good progress on their song. “I can keep working on it at home?”

“I’d prefer you don’t,” Sunset says gently, her hand on his back as she leads him to the front door. “It’s our song. I want to work on it together. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Uh, not tomorrow,” Tony says, thinking through his schedule. “I’m recording. But the next day?”

Sunset looks disappointed, but she nods and kisses him swiftly. “I’ll be counting the minutes.”

He goes home, but it keeps itching at him. They weren’t finished when Sunset left. They weren’t even close to finished. They’d only barely gotten into the flow of things. It doesn’t feel right leaving things there when he still has ideas.

He knows that she’d said to wait until they could work on it together, but he doesn’t want to lose track of the ideas that he’d had. And surely she won’t really mind if he goes to her with a completed song (or, at least, more completed). They’ve been dating for a little over a month, and they really only have two verses to show for it. He can knock out the rest of the chorus, right? Maybe tackle some of the bridge. He likes writing bridges; he's good at those.

Tony’s house isn’t nearly as fancy as Sunset’s penthouse. If Howard would let him have access to the Stark fortune, he’d easily be wealthier than her, but since all he has is the money from his first two albums and the tour, he isn’t able to buy all of the sleek modern furnishings that she has. He only has one music room, compared to Sunset’s three, but maybe that’s usual? He likes having his instruments close at hand, anyway, and even Sunset admitted that she doesn’t do a lot of recording at home so it’s not like she even really needs the private recording studio.

He sits down at the window seat, propping his guitar up on his lap, and spreads the lyrics they have so far out in front of him. There’s a tune that’s been bouncing around Tony’s head since the two of them first started working on the song, something that should sound just like a Sunset Bain song with the guitars and the vocals.

“I was born in the arms of imaginary friends,” he sings, carefully strumming along on the guitar. Yeah, that doesn’t sound too bad. He can imagine Sunset singing the verse anyway, and that’s the important part. It should sound like something that feasibly fits on one of her albums, not his own. “Free to roam, made a home out of everywhere I've been. Then you come crashing in, like the realest thing. Trying my best to understand all that your love can bring.”

He stops, thinking back through the lyrics he’d been puzzling over when Sunset had told him to leave. The verse, he knows, is supposed to introduce this magical new relationship that the emotionally unavailable singer is tumbling into where they’re realizing that they’re in love for the first time. The chorus, then, should introduce the problem: that even though they’re in love, the singer can only give half of their heart to their partner.

“Half of my heart’s got a grip on the situation,” he says, tapping to the beat he’s set. Okay, so that’s the part that’s in love. What would the other part say? “Half of my heart takes time… Half of my heart’s got a strong mind to tell you that—that—that I can’t keep loving you… with half of my heart.” It doesn’t rhyme, but then again, a lot of Sunset’s songs don’t rhyme. It’s not something that she views as necessary in a song so long as the lyrics are catchy and the tune’s easy to remember. Tony likes to rhyme, but he keeps coming back to the song having to keep with Sunset’s sound.

Well, it’s not terrible, he reflects. And if the critics don’t like it, that’s okay. Because he and Sunset are going to be together for a long time, so there will be plenty of opportunities to get it right.

The second verse, they already have nailed down. It’s supposed to be from the partner’s perspective—Tony’s, in this case—what he thinks about Sunset’s outlook on love. And then the second chorus is just the same thing from the first chorus but with the pronouns switched around.

He doesn’t know what Sunset wants to do with the bridge yet, if she wants an actual bridge or another verse, which would line up with some of her other songs, so he writes down the new lyrics and then skips ahead to the outro. This one’s another easy concept. It’s from Sunset’s perspective again, and it’s just another metaphor. They just haven’t been able to come up with what the metaphor should be.

He gets up and paces around the room, trying out different comparisons in his mind, but nothing really lands until he sees the romance novel that Sharon had left on his piano about a materialistic omega who’d been so in love with the blue collar alpha she’d met that she hadn’t cared when he proposed with a paper ring. Tony had found it incredibly romantic when Sharon told him about it. That’s what he wants out of his partner, is someone that he can imagine being so in love with that the material details don’t matter.

“Half of my heart is a shotgun wedding with a paper ring,” he says out loud. “And half is the part of a woman who’s never loved anything.”

Perfect.

“Oh!” Sunset exclaims when he shows her the finished lyrics. “I wasn’t expecting you to write it all on your own, sweet boy. I really did want to work on it with you.”

“I know,” he says eagerly. “But this way, we can work out the kinks in the tune together and then get started recording it. I don’t want to hold your album back when you’re already behind schedule.”

Her eyes narrow slightly. “The kinks,” she says. “What kinks? What tune? I didn’t know that we had a melody.”

“Right, yeah,” Tony says and rubs the back of his neck. “I’ve been working on that too. But, really, Sunset, I can throw everything out if you want to do it together. I just thought it’d be nice, and I had so many ideas, and—”

Sunset kisses him quiet.

She’s beaming when she pulls away. “Tony, we’ll have a million more songs to write together. If you think this will be a hit the way you wrote it, then I don’t want anything different.”

“So Sunset?” Natasha asks when he opens the door to her, Sharon, and Bruce.

He sighs. “Steve told you, didn’t he? It’s supposed to be quiet.”

She raises an eyebrow. “You’re dating someone who’s embarrassed to be seen with you?”

He scowls at her, but doesn’t immediately shut the door on them. He’s still hoping that he can get some of his friends to see sense instead of immediately dismissing his relationship.

“It’s not like that,” he protests, leading the way into the kitchen. “Bruce, can you get the door? Thanks.”

“So what’s it like?” Sharon asks, dropping down onto one of the barstools. “Because Steve is worried. You haven’t talked to him in over a month. That’s the longest you two have gone since talking to each other since you met.”

“Yeah, well, maybe Steve should apologize for sticking his nose where it wasn’t wanted,” Tony grumbles.

“Tony,” Bruce says pointedly.

“I’m not apologizing! I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“You dumped his best friend over a facetime call after he worked very hard to set the two of you up and now you’re dating someone twelve years older than you,” Natasha points out.

“I’m allowed to break up with whoever I want!” he argues. “And Sunset is experienced. She’s not a little kid playing at being an adult. She goes after what she wants.” All three of them look unimpressed. He sighs again. “I’m fine, guys. I know what I’m doing. Now, are we doing pizza and a movie or not?”

Natasha and Sharon exchange inscrutable looks. Bruce just nods and says, “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

“Alright.” He holds up his hands. “We’ll drop it. But can we skip out on the anchovies this time? I’m not sure my stomach’s recovered from the last time.”

“Absolutely not,” Natasha says immediately, whipping out a knife from… somewhere. Tony’s very impressed. “Anchovies are a necessity.”

“You know that you’re still allowed over at the old house, yes?” Jarvis asks him while they’re chopping veggies for dinner so Ana has less work to do when she gets back from the grocery store.

“I know,” Tony assures him. “I just wanted to have you guys over here instead. You know, since I’ve moved out and all.”

“Alright,” Jarvis concedes easily enough. “I’m surprised that Ms. Bain isn’t here tonight. You’ve been dating for nearly six weeks now.”

Tony groans, almost putting his head in his hands before he remembers that he’s chopping onions. “Okay, who told you? And it’s supposed to be quiet.”

“If it’s supposed to be quiet, then I don’t believe I’ll be revealing my source.”

“Okay, so it’s Natasha, then.”

“I said no such thing.”

“Yeah, whatever.” He pauses, looking at the faint pursing around Jarvis’s mouth. “You don’t approve.”

“Tony—”

“You haven’t even met her!”

“And I didn’t get the opportunity to do so tonight, either.”

“It doesn’t matter!” he cries. “Why is everyone so determined that I can’t make my own choices? I like Sunset, okay? I kind of actually love her.” And she’d turned him down when he’d suggested all four of them doing dinner tonight, but he’d realized that two months is kind of fast to be doing Meet the Parents, so he’s let it go.

“My dear boy, are you sure you love her?”

“Yes!” He throws his hands up, exasperated. “I know there’s a bit of an age difference, but it’s okay! That’s why we’re keeping it quiet, so it’s all above board.”

“Hmm,” Jarvis hums, but Ana walks through the door then and Tony seizes on the opportunity to change the subject.

“So I hear you’ve been dating—” Pepper begins during their weekly group call.

Tony cuts her off immediately. “Stop right there. I don’t want to know who told you, and I don’t care. Yes, we’re dating. Yes, it’s been two months. Yes, I know that she’s twelve years older than me.”

“You’re dating someone who’s twelve years older than you?” Happy asks.

“Oh good, Happy hasn’t found out yet.”

“He’s dating Sunset Bain,” Rhodey says immediately.

Tony puts a pillow over his face and screams. Why he’d thought any of his friends could ever keep a secret is beyond him.

“Yeah, I’m dating Sunset,” he says once he’s removed the pillow. “No, I don’t want to hear any comments about the age difference or Bucky or whatever else you can come up with. I promise you, I’ve already heard it, and I’m sick of it. I know what I’m doing. I’m fine. We’re fine.”

There’s a long pause. He checks to see if the call’s dropped. “Guys?”

“We’re still here,” Pepper reassures him. “I just wanted to congratulate you. That’s all.”

“Yeah!” Rhodey says immediately in a tone that tells him he’s as unconvinced as Pepper and everyone else in his life.

“Absolutely!” Happy says, and he sounds even less honest than Rhodey.

Tony contemplates smothering himself with the pillow next time. Honestly. He’s not an idiot. He can make his own choices, and he chooses Sunset. Why can’t anyone be okay with that?

Half of My Heart is the very last song to be recorded for Sunset’s seventh studio album, Battle Lines. The album is set to be released in two weeks, and the plan, as best as Tony can tell, is that they’ll record it and it’ll pretty much immediately be put on the record and shipped out, which doesn’t leave them with a whole lot of room for error. But Tony supposes that he doesn’t have room to talk; he’s been so busy working with Sunset that his third album doesn’t even have a name yet, and it’s still not finished either, but it’s supposed to release a month after Sunset’s.

The difference, he thinks while he anxiously waits for Sunset to get to the recording booth, is that he knows he’s cutting it close to the wire. Sunset, on the other hand, feels very blasé about it, which bothers him. It just seems like she’s creating an awful lot of work for a lot of people by doing this and he doesn’t even know if she’ll compensate them for it.

He frowns to himself. That seems cruel of him to think, and it’s unjust. He’s lashing out at her in his head because she’s been more distant in the last few days, canceling their date only to beg him to come over later that night. It feels very hot and cold, but she’s still so loving with him when they’re together that he can’t be too angry with her. He loves her.

“Sorry I’m late, sweet boy,” Sunset says, sweeping into the room. She drops her designer handbag on one of the couches in the back. “Tony, did you bring all the paperwork I asked for?”

He nods and hands her the folder of every scrap of paper he still had at his house with lyrics or music notation for the song. She’d asked for it as a requirement from her label, something about a paper trail for their copyright application. Tony doesn’t remember doing any of that for his own songs, but Obie is the one who handles all of the copyright stuff, so he assumes it’s happening on the backend.

“Wonderful.” She kisses his cheek, the smell of lilies trailing in her wake, drops the folder in her bag, and sashays into the booth. Tony follows her, getting set up at the microphone across from her.

She pulls her sheet music out of her pocket. He frowns thoughtfully at it. Something looks off, he thinks; it doesn’t look right.

“Hey, Sunset, did you change the notes or something?” he asks, glancing over his own sheet music.

“Hmm?” she asks. She flips her papers around, gives them a onceover, and laughs. “Oh, no. Of course I wouldn’t do that to you. I just took some notes on mine last night. You know, helps me remember where I’m supposed to go up or what have you. That’s all you’re seeing.”

That didn’t look like handwritten notes, but she’s already put the music on her stand, so he can’t see what they said anymore. And really, why would she lie to him? They worked on this song together, but it’s still her song. He’s getting feature and songwriting credit, but it’s still a Sunset Bain song, and that’s what everyone will remember it as. He’s making a big deal out of nothing.

“Are you good?” Sunset checks with him, putting her headphones on. Tony slips his own set on and gives her a thumbs up. She smiles back at him and flashes a thumbs up of her own to the sound technicians.

“Alright, Half of My Heart Take One,” one of the technicians says over his headset.

The guitar starts playing, and it’s just like when they were in rehearsals together. Sunset sways to the music, and Tony can’t stop a grin from spreading across his face. This is everything he dreamed about when she first mentioned a collaboration with him, an actual dream come true getting to record with such a big name in the industry as her. He comes in on the chorus, harmonizing with Sunset’s warm contralto.

Oh, half of my heart's got a grip on the situation
Half of my heart takes time
Half of my heart's got a right mind to tell you
That I can't keep loving you
Oh, with half of my heart

They have to take a couple takes for both the first verse and the chorus, hammering out the kinks, but then it’s Tony’s turn. He closes his eyes as he sings the second verse, putting himself in the place of the man whose lover can only give him part of herself.

Sunset takes the first half of the bridge—Your faith is strong, but I can only fall short for so long—and then it’s Tony’s turn—Down the road, later on, I will hate that you never gave more to me than half of your heart—and then they’re trading off But I can’t stop loving you over and over again.

He has no idea how long they’re in that booth together, recording and rerecording until the technicians are happy with it, but it’s perfect. Every single moment, he knows, is one that he’ll look at years down the line and bring out so he can laugh at everyone who said they weren’t going to last.

“Thank you,” Sunset croons when they’re done and packing up, the masters safely tucked away for recording. “You have no idea what this means to me, Tony.”

“I think I have some idea,” he says, smiling at her. “I’ll see you tonight?”

“Tomorrow,” she promises, eyes gleaming. “I have some things to take care of for the album tonight.” She kisses him, deep and messy, uncaring of the technicians still finishing up only a few steps away. “Bye, baby boy.”

Tony buys the album obviously. No one even notices him at the store in his hoodie and sunglasses. He drives home, the CD sitting innocuously in the plastic bag on the seat next to him. He types out a post for Twitter while the first few songs are playing on his CD player, confirming that yes, he and Sunset are together and they collaborated on this song, but before he presses Tweet, a tweet on his feed catches his eye.

#1 Tony Stark Fan @tonystark4eva
OMG is that @tonystark42 on @sunsetbain’s new album?

It sounds… surprised. Why does it sound surprised? He’s featured on the song. Whoever tonystark4eva is, they should know that he’s on the album. Unless…

He grabs for the CD, flipping it over to look at the back. He hadn’t done that in the store—or at all. He hadn’t thought he needed to; he’d known what was on the back.

Except he’s wrong.

The third track is right there: Half of My Heart. But his name isn’t anywhere on the back. The song doesn’t even have the symbol that indicates it was co-written by him.

“What?” he whispers. He rips open the CD case, hard enough that it breaks into two pieces, and yanks the booklet out, desperately flipping through it until he finds the credits for their song, but though he’s listed as Additional Vocals, he doesn’t have the feature credit and the sole songwriting credit is Sunset’s. The song starts playing over his CD player, and he listens, waiting to hear his voice, but while it’s there in the background during the chorus, his verse and his part in the bridge have been replaced with Sunset singing something completely different.

This has to be a mistake. They’d rushed the album out so quickly; somewhere along the line, there must have been a mistake. He’s going to drive over to Sunset’s, show her the album, and she’ll see it was a mistake and have it recalled. Years down the line, people will try to find the original version of the album as a collector’s edition, and it’ll be fine. It’ll all be fine.

It has to be fine.

He doesn’t even remember driving to Sunset’s or the elevator up to her penthouse. He only comes back to himself after he’s knocked on the door, after he realizes that there’s music pounding through the walls.

“Tony!” Sunset says, opening the door. She blinks at him. “Sweet boy, what are you doing here?”

“What am I—what’s going on here?” he asks, bewildered.

“The launch party, of course,” she says, eyes widening in surprise. “I told you about it weeks ago. You said you weren’t going to make it.”

Tony has no recollection of being told about a party, but it doesn’t matter. They can fight about that later. Right now, the important thing is their song.

“Sunset, what happened to our song?” he pleads.

She’s quiet for a moment before sighing and stepping fully out of her condo. The door swings shut behind her, only muffling the noise a little bit. “Tony,” she begins, cupping his cheek. “Sweet boy, you have to understand, the label just didn’t like your vocals. They’re too immature. It just doesn’t mesh with my sound.”

“What?” he asks.

“I had to rerecord the song,” she tells him. “We had to cut your verse and bridge down to just the background vocals. And if you’re only providing background vocals, well, that’s not really enough work for a feature credit, is it?”

“But I was supposed to be featured on the song,” he says insistently. “You promised me a feature credit.”

“Did I?” she asks, placing her hand over her heart. “I don’t remember signing any contracts, and in this industry, that’s what matters.”

He gapes at her, heart slowly sinking. No. She didn’t. She couldn’t. She—“But what about my songwriting credit?” he begs. “I wrote that song, Sunset. You know I did. You barely even worked on it. That’s my chorus and my bridge and my outro. You—”

“Do you have proof?” she asks innocently. “Because those are very serious allegations you’re leveling against me, Tony. Do you really understand what you’re accusing me of?”

“Proof?” he repeats. “What are you—of course, I have proof. I gave—” He stops in the middle of his sentence, horror dawning on him. “I gave…” He gave them to her. He’d given all of them to her. He hadn’t kept any of the bits he’d worked on in reserve. Because Sunset had told him the label wanted them. And because he hadn’t gone through his own label for the collaboration, her label hadn’t gone through him. The only proof he has that he worked on the song at all had been given over to Sunset—and if he’s understanding her correctly, she got rid of them so she could claim the sole songwriting credit.

He fucked up.

“Why?” he whispers. “Why would you do this to me?”

She smiles patronizingly at him. “Tony,” she croons, chucking under his chin. “Don’t be obtuse. You’re the hip new thing in this industry, and I haven’t had a hit in six years. I needed your ability. Why, you churn out hits like you just can’t help but make them!” She laughs lightly, tossing her head back. The scent of lilies almost chokes him. “Surely you could spare one for me.”

“But…” he says helplessly, taking a step back. He has to get away from her. He can’t be so close. “But we were dating. You—you could have just asked.”

“Oh, sweet boy. Do you really think you would have agreed to write a song for me if I’d just come up to you and asked? It’s just good business.”

It’s the way she phrases it that makes him realize that all of it, from the moment she’d met him, had been calculated. She’d never really had any feelings for him—or if she had, they’d been overshadowed by her desire for a genuine Tony Stark hit. And the worst part, he thinks to himself, is that he might have been willing to write her something. He’d been so starstruck by her, and he has so many songs that don’t wind up past the writing stage, he would have happily given her one, just because he’d looked up to her. But she hadn’t asked. She hadn’t even tried. She’d approached him from the start, pretended she liked him, pretended she wanted to collaborate. She’d lured him away from Bucky, promising him that she could take care of him better, that she’d give him what he deserved, and he’d thrown away something good for something as fake as her. Steve had been right. He should have run as fast as he could from her. Instead, he’d fallen for it all.

His heart shatters.

He’d defended her. He’d told everyone that he knew what he was doing, that he was fine. He should have known. Why had he ever believed that someone like her would want someone like him if not for what he could do for her?

“You’re overwrought,” Sunset says soothingly, taking another step towards him. He stumbles back as soon as that scent hits his nose. “Go home, sleep on it; I’ll see you in the morning.”

“No,” he says poisonously.

She raises an eyebrow. “What was that?”

“No,” he repeats, retreating as fast as he can. “Don’t call me. Don’t—I never want to see you again, Sunset.”

Tony doesn’t know what to do.

He’d staked it all on Sunset. He’d broken up with Bucky for her. He’d told all of his friends and family that she was a good person, that they were going to be forever. That tweet is still queued up on his computer, confirming their relationship.

He feels like he’s going to be sick.

He almost misses the person in his driveway, leaning up against their motorcycle. It’s only at the last second, just as he’s turning in, that he sees them, pulling to a stop before he gets too close.

Steve stares steadily back at him, hands tucked into the pockets of his leather jacket. Tony swallows hard, remembering everything he’d yelled at Steve only three months ago. They haven’t spoken since then. They’d only seen each other when they were recording. Truth be told, he was surprised that Steve didn’t just quit on him.

He gets out, asks shakily, “Are you here to gloat?”

Steve’s face crumples. “No,” he says immediately, emphatically. “God—” He runs his hand through his hair. “Is that what you think of me?”

Tony shakes his head silently. Steve isn’t the type to do that. But Tony had been so awful to him. He can’t imagine that Steve is actually here for him.

And yet…

“I’m here because I saw the tracklist,” Steve says quietly. “I know you two were working together.”

Tony breaks. Bursts into noisy, gut-wrenching sobs that leave him gasping for breath. Steve is there in an instant, wrapping his arms around Tony and tucking him against his chest. For the first time in three months, Tony breathes in the familiar scent of peppermint and pine, and it’s so different from Sunset, refreshing and underpowering. It feels like he can finally breathe again.

“I gave her everything,” he sobs. “I didn’t keep any of it, I don’t even have any proof!” He spent three months working on this song for her, and she’s going to get away with stealing it completely.

“Oh, Tony,” Steve murmurs sympathetically. The tone is completely different from the way Sunset said it, but he still shudders at the familiar words. “Come on, let’s get you inside.” He starts leading them inside, fishing Tony’s keys out from his pocket to lock the car behind them.

“I just wanted to make her happy,” he whispers as the front door shuts behind them.

“I know.”

“I really fucked up. I—I dumped Bucky because she said I should. She convinced me I deserved better, and—and—and really, it was him who deserved better because I dumped him, and I was terrible to him, and why didn’t I know any better?”

“Tony,” Steve whispers helplessly. To his credit, he doesn’t agree with anything Tony’s saying, which he appreciates because he doesn’t think he could handle an “I told you so” on top of everything else, even though Steve absolutely did tell him so and he was right about how shitty Tony had been to Bucky.

“I just wanted to make her happy,” he says again, and Steve’s arms tighten around him.

Steve stays the night. Tony wouldn’t have blamed him for leaving. It had to have been awkward keeping his mouth shut every time Tony started talking about how he should have known. But he stays the night, even sleeps next to Tony in his bed instead of taking one of the guest rooms when Tony gave him an out.

Tony leaves him there sometime in the small hours of the morning. Steve had fallen asleep hours ago, but Tony hadn’t, too busy thinking of lyric after lyric. He has two songs, he thinks, one for Bucky to say everything that he’ll never be able to say in person (he owes him an apology, he knows that), and one for Sunset to tell her everything he couldn’t when he saw her. And more than that, he has a title for the album finally. He knows what he wants the album to say. He wants to show the world that he isn’t afraid to speak up, that he can—and will—speak now.

He grabs his guitar, setting up in the window seat just like he always does. His fingers find the strings easily, plucking out a tune that sounds eerily similar to Sunset’s preferred music.

He sings, “Long were the nights when my days once revolved around you.”