Chapter Text
Ding!
Congratulations! Ebay User BB107 has placed a bid on your Rare Captain Marvel Trading Card! Current highest bid: $600! Would you like to confirm purchase?
Ding!
Congratulations! Ebay User ts696969 has placed a bid on your Rare Captain America Marvel Trading Card! Current highest bid: $700! Would you like to confirm purchase?
Ding!
Congratulations! Ebay User BB107 has placed a bid on your Rare Captain America Marvel Trading Card! Current highest bid: $900! Would you like to confirm purchase?
Ding!
Ding!
Ding!
Ding!
(See more notifications below)
~
september
~
Tony was going to kill user BB107. With his bare hands. It would be a slow, agonizing death, in all the ways that a human being could suffer, and would bring Tony immense satisfaction.
Or maybe just yell at him a little bit. Whichever he was feeling in the moment. Jury’s still out.
That card was his, goddammit. He had spent years looking for a diamond Captain America trading card. Literal years. Long, painful, relentless years, looking for just this one, stupid card to finish his collector’s set. His fingers felt phantom pain even just thinking about the hours upon hours of endless doom-scrolling searching for the stupid thing, to absolutely no avail. Nothing. Nada. He wasn’t even sure the card existed at one point, and had edited the Wikipedia page to reflect this belief in a fit of anger (he went back and corrected it the next day. It was fine. He was so calm). All for him to accidentally- accidentally- find one on a mindless Internet search rabbit hole, throw thousands of his (father’s, okay, maybe not his, but the sentiment was the same) hard-earned dollars at it in an impromptu bidding war, and then proceed to lose? To a guy he had never even heard of? What the fuck? No. Absolutely not. That’s absurd. Losing everything he had worked so hard for, in an instant. This was not the end. He refused. Tony would fight for this, for his god-ordained right, until the day he died-
“Tones, for fuck’s sake,” the barista in front of him groaned. “It’s not that deep. Let this shit go, I’m begging.”
Tony glared at him, fists clenched around his warm mug of coffee.
“Like hell I will,” he snapped. “That was my card.”
Rhodey raised an eyebrow at him, setting the last round of muffins in the freezer and shutting the now-empty display case with a snap that only felt mildly personal. The freezer rocked with the motion, as if it agreed with Tony.
“How?” he challenged. “You found the card. You placed a bid. You got outbid. Sucks. Move on. Get a life. Better yet, get out of my cafe.”
Tony snorted sourly, and tipped his mug to his mouth, draining the rest of his coffee in one gulp, slamming the mug back down onto the counter. Rhodey sighed, moving to put the rest of the cinnamon rolls in the freezer after the muffins.
Tony loved the cafe.
It wasn’t the prettiest of spots on campus, with mismatched stools that had ripped seams and stuffing falling out of them, and floors that were scuffed and stained to hell, but that didn’t really matter to Tony. It was warm, and quiet. The regulars weren’t too pretentious or hippie, or the iced latte white girls. They were just people, who ignored each other and acted like they couldn’t see anyone else there. Typical Boston, at its finest. It was really just an added bonus that Rhodey worked there, and was someone to talk to when Tony didn’t move from his spot for hours, only complaining a little bit that Tony was hogging up the counter.
They hadn’t had the smoothest of beginnings, him and Rhodey, but Tony liked to think that Rhodey had become acclimated to him in the time that they had known each other. Maybe even fond, on a good day. They had stopped rooming together after Tony graduated, but Tony had just followed him to the cafe anyways, determined to annoy Rhodey all the way up to his own graduation.
And, technically, the cafe closed in half an hour, but Tony knew Rhodey liked to get customers out nice and early on the nights he closed so he could go home and start on his homework. In response to this, Tony always made sure to be the last person in the building, staying right up to the closing minute. It drove Rhodes absolutely berserk.
Re: all the way to graduation. He was stuck with Tony at this point. Can’t return to sender. No take-backsies.
“My computer died,” Tony complained, ignoring Rhodey’s eye roll. He loved Tony, really, even if he would only admit it under extreme duress. It was admirable, truly. “I couldn’t get it charged, because my stupid charger went missing, and then I was outbid. I would have won it, fair and square.”
“But you didn’t,” Rhodey muttered under his breath.
“Hey-” Rhodes ignored him, looking past Tony to a customer behind him and throwing on a friendly smile that Tony had most certainly not received in his time sitting at the counter. Blatant favoritism, honestly.
“Hey, Brooke. Thanks for bringing that up here.” The blonde girl he was speaking to, who was probably a couple years older than Tony and apparently named Brooke, smiled back weakly, going red, and handed Rhodey her plate and mug over the counter before whispering a quick goodbye and scurrying away.
Tony rolled his eyes.
“You know, Rhodes, you would be so much more fun if you treated me like that. I’m your best friend. Your ride or die. You would be bored to death without me.”
Rhodey rolled his eyes right back at Tony, which, rude. Probably deserved, but still. Rude.
“Yeah, bored. That’s what they call it when you suddenly have a life to yourself,” Rhodey said dryly, wrapping the towel around his hand again. “Move away from the counter, would you? I need to wipe it down.”
Tony obediently shoved his chair back, letting Rhodey reach over to the other end of the wooden table, scrubbing over it viciously with his rag. Tony watched him, not bothering to offer his help.
“I just think I should get another chance at the card, you know? The first time was hardly my fault, and I would have outbid that guy if I had the opportunity. I was just robbed.”
“Are we still talking about this?” Rhodey grunted. “I thought we were done.”
“I don’t really hate BB107. I’m sure he’s a good guy and whatever. But I really, really wanted that card. I deserved that card. Probably more than he did, and that’s just being realistic.”
“That’s not- you sound ridiculous. Okay? You just sound ridiculous. You don’t even like Captain America, man. Why the hell do you need this card?”
Tony sighed dramatically, because he just didn’t get it. Obviously Tony didn’t like Captain America that much, because he was stupid, and overhyped, and overpowered to an absurd degree, and frankly, just really inferior to Iron Man, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want the card. Tony could care less about who was on the card. The card was entirely unrelated to Captain America. His face existing on it was irrelevant. It was about completing the set, topping off years’ worth of efforts. It was symbolic.
“Because it’s the principle of the matter, Platypus. I’ve spent years cultivating this masterpiece of a set, and this rando swoops in out of nowhere and tries to ruin all of my progress? It’s just insulting.”
Rhodey stood back up, straightening his shoulders, and gave Tony an exasperated look, replacing the towel in the pocket of his apron.
“I think you need to let this go,” he said slowly, like Tony was a toddler who had just had his toy taken away. Which- he was, but he didn’t need to say it like that. “You can find another card.” Tony started to object, but he held up his hand, cutting him off. “No, seriously, you can. This isn’t the end of the world. It’s a trading card, man.”
“It’s not just a trading card-” Tony protested.
“To most people it is! To me, it is! Yeah, I get it’s your life’s work and everything, blah, blah, blah, but it is literally just a piece of paper, Tones. You can find another, I promise. Leave BB107 alone.”
Rhodey reached over the counter and tugged Tony’s mug out of his grip, glaring when Tony hissed and tried to grab it back. They wrestled with it for a moment, Rhodey using his height to pull it away, and Tony trying to pull him back down, before Rhodey finally stepped out of reach, breathing heavily, glare turned into a full glower.
“Are you done now? Get the stupid out of your system yet?” he asked.
Tony slumped down in his chair, defeated and without caffeine. A loss on all fronts.
“I guess,” he mumbled dejectedly.
Rhodey snorted.
“Good. Now get out.”
~
Tony stumbled down the hallway of his apartment complex, groaning, his vision blurry and balance a little more than questionable.
He hadn’t really meant to find a party and get drunk after he left the cafe. Rhodey had offered to drive him home, but Tony had insisted he wanted to stop by the Engineering building instead, intending to check up on a project or two. He wasted an hour there, wandering around the mostly-empty hallways and labs, picking the locks of the doors when they were closed. Basic stuff. When he left, though, he could hear the stereotypical frat party music blaring from two blocks away, lights flashing against the dark sky. And by that point- what was the harm? He was in the neighborhood. If Rhodey asked, he drank sodas all night. And, honestly? Disregarding his current situation, he had a blast. A solid 7.5/10, would party again.
He fumbled for his key, leaning dangerously against the doorframe, before sliding the key into the lock, cursing under his breath when he missed the first two times. His apartment was as dark and empty as he left it, clothes and food everywhere, dishes piling up in the sink. The trash that he had meant to take out yesterday was still overflowing, the paper plates he had resorted to using instead of doing the dishes nearly falling out from the bin. He shuffled past it all to the couch, collapsing onto it when he got within a three-foot distance.
“Fuck,” he mumbled into the cushions.
He blinked a couple times, weary, before sighing and letting his head fall back down onto the throw pillow next to him.
“I- I’mma sleep here,” he slurred into the silence, talking to nothing in particular. “You- you be quiet now. Shh.”
He closed his eyes.
Tony laid there for a heartbeat, pulse thumping quietly.
He reopened his eyes, squinting into the darkness.
On the far side of the coffee table, his laptop lay untouched, glinting in the moonlight.
“Oh,” Tony whispered. “Oh, yeah. Great idea, me.”
He slowly moved himself off the couch, inch by inch, before crawling onto the ground face-first, working his way towards the computer in the darkness. He reached for it, and tugged it towards himself, opening it awkwardly. The screen came to life, and he hissed at the brightness, immediately reaching to jab at the dimming button.
“Let’s see,” he muttered to himself. “What do I want to do?”
He typed in his password, and the laptop unlocked, lock screen disappearing, revealing the last thing he had been looking at.
The diamond Captain America trading card Craigslist page shone up at him mockingly.
“No,” he groaned. “No, no, no, no.”
Tony glared at it petulantly, pouting. This was an unfair and unjust turn of events. He was already drunk, wasn’t he? Why rub metaphorical salt in the metaphorical wound of his misery?
“You were supposed to be mine,” he informed it. “But you got stolen.”
The trading card didn’t respond. Tony wasn’t too pressed about it.
“I would have treated you better,” Tony insisted. “He’s not worthy of you. Or her. Or them. I don’t discriminate. Either way, not good enough, I promise.”
He squinted hard at the ‘Bought’ icon, and BB107’s name underneath it, underlined.
“Even the username is stupid,” Tony complained. “What the hell is a BB107?”
Without thinking about it, Tony moved the mouse to the icon, finger ready to click.
This was probably a bad idea. Hate-stalking the profile of the guy who stole his card at 2am while drunk off his ass was, objectively, a new low for him. Definitely a box he could cross off of his Embarrassing Emotional Conquests bingo card. Don’t pass go, don’t collect $200.
Tony considered it, headache slowly increasing behind his eyelids.
The account blinked at him tauntingly.
Ah, what the hell. It couldn’t get worse, could it?
Tony clicked on the username.
“Rhodey doesn’t have to know,” he reasoned. “Right? Right. Good talk.”
He scrolled through BB107’s profile, opening the record of purchases and auctions, scoffing when he saw how small it was. The Captain America trading card, a pair of shoes, a Nike sweatshirt. Amateur hour, honestly. Tony was more than a little bit offended the guy wasn’t even a consistent fandom enthusiast, but had still managed to swoop in under his nose. His overall rating was good, no complaints from previous deals. A perfect record of purchase.
Tony frowned.
Well. That wouldn’t do.
He opened a side browser, fingers flying.
If this asshole was going to ruin Tony’s night, then the least he could do was ruin his rating. It was only fair. He could leave a couple bad reviews. Bomb his score. It couldn’t be that hard to get into a sketchy auction website, could it?
Tony reached behind himself under the couch cushion, fingers rummaging against the metal frame until he hit something plastic, wrapping his hand around it and pulling his emergency vodka out from its hiding spot that he had put it in the last time Rhodey made him go dry. He unscrewed the top, taking a large shot out of it, wincing when the liquid hit the back of his throat. Just as cheap and bad as he remembered it. Perfect.
His screen loaded, and BB107’s account appeared again, but this time with more information that hadn’t previously been available.
Tony felt himself grin.
This evening was starting to look up.
~
One New Tumblr Notification
(5 New Messages)
3:13 AM
greetingsprograms: you know
greetingsprograms: putting your tumblr for contact info is a stupid idea
greetingsprograms: what is this
greetingsprograms: 2012
greetingsprograms: ?
nonotlikethedeer: I’m sorry, who is this?
greetingsprograms: using actual grammar too
greetingsprograms: lameeeeee
nonotlikethedeer: Do I know you?
greetingsprograms: ha
greetingsprograms: no
greetingsprograms: but you stole my card
nonotlikethedeer: What?
greetingsprograms: my card
greetingsprograms: you stole it
nonotlikethedeer: I’m sorry, I’m really confused right now. What card are you talking about?
greetingsprograms: my diamond captain america card
nonotlikethedeer: …The one that I just bought?
nonotlikethedeer: Off of Craigslist?
greetingsprograms: yeah
nonotlikethedeer: Are you the original owner of the card, or…? Because I can return it if you decided you didn’t want to sell it.
greetingsprograms: no
greetingsprograms: we had a bidding war
greetingsprograms:it was very homoerotic
greetingsprograms: the film critics were raving
nonotlikethedeer: Wait
nonotlikethedeer: Were you the asshole who jacked up the price of that card?
greetingsprograms: no
greetingsprograms: YOU were the asshole who forced me to jack up the price because you were stealing my card
nonotlikethedeer: How is it your card if I bought it?
nonotlikethedeer: Also, how did you get my contact info then?
greetingsprograms: because i really really really really wanted it
greetingsprograms: duh
greetingprograms: I spent years searching for that stupid card and then you took it from me
nonotlikethedeer: Technically, I didn’t take it. I bought it. With my money. Which means it’s mine.
greetingsprograms: mmm
greetingsprograms: no
greetingsprograms: hard pass on that logic
nonotlikethedeer: Fine.
nonotlikethedeer: How did you get my Tumblr?
greetingsprograms: …
greetingsprograms: the government
nonotlikethedeer: …Uhuh.
nonotlikethedeer: Want to try that one again?
greetingsprograms: nah
nonotlikethedeer: Okay.
nonotlikethedeer: Well.
nonotlikethedeer: I’m going to report you to both Tumblr and Craigslist.
greetingsprograms: nooooooooooooo
greetingsprograms: no babe i thought we had a good thing going here
greetingsprograms: i thought this was special
nonotlikethedeer: You typically don’t have a “thing” with someone who hacks into your Craigslist account and then messages you saying that you stole something from them. Which, by the way, you didn’t.
greetingsprograms: hey you have no proof I hacked you
greetingsprograms: there are no receipts
nonotlikethedeer: You literally just admitted that you did it.
nonotlikethedeer: On your Tumblr account with a username that references a movie about hacking.
nonotlikethedeer: I’m not seeing a strong case on your part.
greetingsprograms: shit
greetingsprograms: okay
greetingsprograms: look
greetingsprograms: my actions are maybeeeee not the legalest
greetingsprograms: and perchance I am slightly drunketh
greetingsprograms: but I possess a deep sense of profound regret
greetingsprograms: I profess rue upon my past transgressions
greetingsprograms: gandalf forgive me
greetingsprograms: I know not what I do
nonotlikethedeer: I think you do know what you do, Pippin.
greetingsprograms: okay maybe
greetingsprograms: but like
greetingsprograms: regret
greetingsprograms: rue
greetingsprograms: drunken mistakes
nonotlikethedeer: Right.
greetingsprograms: and really
greetingsprograms: if it takes hacking your craigslist account for us to meet it will have been worth it
nonotlikethedeer: Did you just
nonotlikethedeer: Misappropriate Hamilton at me?
greetingsprograms: did it work
nonotlikethedeer: Look. Just. Stop messaging me. Lose my info.
greetingsprograms: but this has been such a fun chat
nonotlikethedeer: Or I’ll report you.
greetingsprograms: consider it lost
nonotlikethedeer: Great.
nonotlikethedeer: Goodbye.
greetingsprograms: bye card thief
greetingsprograms: xoxoxo
~
“Okay, so,” Tony announced. “I have discovered a recent bout of maturity, and did not, in fact, kill user BB107. Making leaps and bounds, am I right?”
Rhodey didn’t glance up from the register.
“What did you do?”
Tony’s jaw dropped, instinctually offended.
Was Rhodes right? Perhaps. But that was semantics.Mere details. Unnecessary information, if you would.
And Tony would.
“I didn’t do anything!” He protested. “I am an innocent man! You’ve got the wrong guy!”
Rhodey sighed, slamming the cash drawer shut and fixing Tony with a deadpan look.
“No, really, I almost believed you that time,” he said. “What did you do?”
Tony grabbed his claimed stool- the best one in the cafe, really, it was the perfect size and level of comfort- and sat down, blinking his eyes innocently at his friend. It was probably a testament to their friendship that Rhodey wasn’t swayed in the slightest by it. His poker face was the best.
“Absolutely nothing.”
Rhodey snorted.
“No, seriously.” Tony insisted.
“Uhuh.”
“I went straight home after I left Engineering.”
“For sure.”
“And then I went to bed.”
“That’s nice.”
“Slept a full eight hours.”
“Now you’re just borderline delusional.”
“I definitely didn’t get drunk and then hack into BB107’s account and then message him on Tumblr accusing him of stealing my card, because I’m mature.”
Rhodey stopped making Tony’s regular order, espresso shot at the ready.
“You did what now?”
Tony reached for his mug, but Rhodey snatched it away, eyes narrowed, moving both the mug and the coffee out of his reach.
“Tony.”
Tony shrank down in his seat, covering his face with his hands. That voice was never a good thing.
“Mhm?”
“You hacked into his account?”
“In my defense-” Tony started, but Rhodey cut him off.
“No, no defense. You get no defense. That’s so fucked up, man. You hacked him? Really? What the hell is wrong with you?”
Tony raised his hand to speak. Rhodey smacked it out of the air.
“No, you shut up now. That’s creepy, Tony. You’re creepy. It’s so beyond illegal that I can’t even describe it to you how much you screwed up on this one.”
“I know,” he mumbled.
“Do you know? Because I truly don’t think that you do. Jesus, Tony.”
“The guy mentioned it once or twice.” Tony muttered.
And threatened to report him for it. Repeatedly. That wasn’t relevant, though.
His name was James Barnes, according to his Craiglist account. He was 26, and lived in Massachusetts. The far side of Boston, if his address was anything to go by. And his Tumblr account was, apparently, his main form of communication, because the man lived indefinitely in 2013.
Rhodey needed to know none of this.
“The guy- wait, BB107? He actually responded?”
Tony snickered into his arm despite himself.
“Yeah, he did. We had a fun conversation.”
Rhodey pulled at Tony’s hands, tugging them away from his face, and forcing him to meet his eyes.
“Show me,” he ordered.
Tony gaped at him incredulously.
“What? No!”
“Why not?”
“It’s a private conversation!”
Rhodey glared at him, hands on either side of his shoulders, caging him in.
“It’s a private, illegal conversation. Show me the damn messages.”
Tony and Rhodey stared at each other, not blinking.
Rhodey raised an eyebrow.
Tony sighed.
He needed a new best friend.
“Fine. Whatever.”
He tugged his phone out of his pocket, and tossed it across the counter to Rhodey. He made a grabby motion with his hands.
“Now give me my caffeine back.”
Rhodey passed over the mug silently, unlocking the phone and opening the Tumblr app. Tony watched him warily, sipping his coffee disgruntledly.
“‘Nonotlikethedeer’?”
Tony nodded reluctantly.
They sat in silence as Rhodey read through the messages, expression slowly getting more and more pinched, brow furrowed. He finally sighed, setting the phone down between them, and rubbed his eyes.
“Tony?” He said, strained.
“Yes?”
“You’re a fucking idiot.”
“Yeah,” Tony agreed, because, looking at it sober, he kind of was. He wasn’t above admitting that. “But he didn’t report me! Or block me!”
Rhodey gave him an exasperated look.
“Is that a personal achievement?” He asked dryly.
“Well, it’s…it’s not not a personal achievement,” Tony said defensively.
Rhodey would be appalled at how often Tony got himself blocked over stupid arguments. It was a feat, really. Tony was only a little bit proud.
On an unrelated note, he was starting a collection of fun facts and stories called, “Things Rhodey Never Needs To Find Out”.
The title needed to be hammered out, but it was a work in progress for a reason.
“Look,” Rhodey began, “I get that you’re still basically a kid-“
“-fuck you too, I am not-“
“-but you gotta grow up sometime, man. You’re nineteen. You’re getting your Master’s in goddamned engineering, for Christ’s sake. Use that brain for good. Have some common fucking sense, please.”
“This was one time!” Tony groaned. “It’s not like I harass people on the regular!”
“That is exactly what you do!” Rhodey hissed. “Name one time in the past year you started an interaction without trying to piss someone off, flirting with them, or by interrupting someone else because you thought it was funny to be a dick. Just one. That’s all I need.”
Tony paused.
Hm. That was…admittedly, a difficult one.
It’s not like he meant to be a nuisance all the time. But when you’re young and brilliant, people think you’ll be a bother, no matter what you do. It’s a stereotype of a sort; being the smartest in the room just meant that you would be the most egotistical, the biggest asshole. Cause doesn’t equal correlation, and yet it did, didn’t it? Tony decided at a very young age after being told one too many times to behave when he was behaving, Jarvis, he swore he was, that if he couldn’t beat that expectation, the rigged system of being a gifted kid, he would make them all regret it. The too-high expectations, the creation of such a pointless and managed system, all of it. Walk out with his middle finger held high. He would explode the goddamn glass ceiling. He just…sometimes forgot that there were other ways to go about getting something done, or making a point. Old habits die hard, and all of that. Give him a pen and a paper, and he’ll write a national bestseller about all of his feelings.
“Okay,” Tony hedged. “Maybe I do it sometimes, but not all the time-“
“Last week you interrupted a conversation about different types of coffee beans you could use to make a proper frappuccino because the customer having the conversation looked at you wrong, apparently, and you wanted to mess with him. He was with his girlfriend. They’re both regulars.” Rhodey told him flatly. “They haven’t been back since. The week before that, you got kicked out of office hours- which you didn’t need to be at, by the way, I’ve seen your notes on biomechanics- because you told the TA that his tie didn’t flatter his eyes and that he should really invest in clothing that didn’t make women run in the opposite direction. Unprompted. While he was helping someone else, who did actually need to be there, unlike you. Two days ago, you-”
“I get it, thanks,” Tony cut him off. “You don’t need to continue.”
“Are you sure? Because thirty seconds ago, you were positive that you didn’t have a pattern of being a pain in everyone else’s ass.”
Tony made a face as Rhodey grabbed the broom, starting to sweep the floor behind the counter.
“That’s an over exaggeration-”
“It really isn’t, pal-”
“I might do it a lot but some people think it’s funny-”
“Not BB107, I can tell you that much-”
“What’s funny?” A voice piped up from behind Tony.
Tony startled, nearly falling out of his stool, as Rhodey snickered and set his broom aside, reaching for a takeaway cup. Peter watched them warily, not looking nearly apologetic enough for Tony’s liking.
“Hey, Pete,” Rhodey greeted, writing his name on the side of the cup.
“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Tony demanded. “Huh? Think of my old age, Parker. You can’t do that shit to me.”
“Aren’t you, like, nineteen?” Peter asked skeptically.
“‘Aren’t you, like, nineteen’,” Tony mocked in a high-pitched falsetto. “That’s not the point, Petey.”
Rhodey rolled his eyes.
“You’re fine, Peter. He’s feeling melodramatic today. Your usual?”
Peter nodded, and pulled out the seat next to Tony, sitting down. Peter was, by a far and wide margin, Tony’s favorite underclassman, and Tony made sure he knew it, too. The kid was funny and smart, and probably unironically the nicest person Tony had ever met. He was like a puppy in human form, if that was possible.
“Yeah, thanks. What’s funny?” he repeated.
Rhodey laughed again, and Tony’s frown deepened.
“Tony thinks he doesn’t pick fights and start shit often.”
Peter blinked, looking at Tony with confusion. Rhodey laughed harder.
He retracted his previous statement. He needed new friends, period.
“You agree with him?” Tony asked, horrified.
Peter hesitated.
It was enough of a response in itself.
“Well-”
“Oh my god,” Tony said over him.
“See?” Rhodey wheezed. “Pain in the ass.”
“You’re both awful,” Tony sighed mournfully. “I don’t know why I associate with either of you.”
“Look,” Peter tried. “It is funny. I mean, I think it’s funny. Sometimes.”
Rhodey cackled, pouring coffee into Peter’s cup. Tony hoped he spilled it all over himself, and that it was scalding hot. He hoped that shit burned.
“Yeah, you want to know what this motherfucker did? Huh? He got drunk off his ass, and then picked a fight with a stranger on the internet over an Avengers trading card.”
Peter sighed, burying his head in his hands.
“Tony, really?” he mumbled. “C’mon, bro.”
Rhodey sniggered, and handed the cup to Peter.
“Here you go, kid.”
“Yeah, well. Do as I say, not as I do,” Tony grumbled. “Be better than me.”
“You want to know the best part?” Rhodey whispered to Peter conspiratorially. Peter nodded quickly, eyes darting back and forth between him and Tony, who glared. Peter was a traitor, through and through. “It was a Captain America card.”
Peter’s mouth gaped open like a fish.
“You don’t even like Captain America!”
Tony rolled his eyes to the ceiling, sighing loudly as Rhodey lost it again, clutching onto the counter to support himself, laughing hysterically.
“We’re not doing this again,” he announced. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to drown myself in coffee grounds.”
Both Rhodey and Peter ignored him, too busy laughing their way to the ground and sputtering in total disbelief respectively. Tony shook his head fondly and drained the rest of his coffee, setting it down on the counter with a quiet clink.
Okay, maybe he could keep these idiots. Just for a little while.
~
Rhodey lowered the music as they pulled up to Tony’s apartment complex, and Tony sighed internally, preparing himself preemptively for the lecture he was about to receive.
Rhodey had insisted on driving Tony home from the cafe, saying that if he was going to stay until closing anyways, then he might as well get the ride. He didn’t say anything about Tony partying the night before, or his resulting drunken mistakes, but Tony heard it regardless.
“I’m not your parent, Tones,” Rhodey said, and Tony winced, because, yeah, he knew exactly where this was going. “I know that. But I am your friend, y’know? And I worry about you sometimes.”
Tony snorted.
Understatement of the century. Rhodey staged more interventions than a Alcoholics Anonymous group.
“Just sometimes?”
Rhodey smirked wryly.
“Yeah, okay. Most of the time.” His smirk dropped, and his expression turned back into something serious. “Just…promise me you’ll stay sober tonight.” Tony opened his mouth to object, but Rhodey silenced him with a glare. “I know you didn’t do anything serious last night, but I thought we had agreed that you were going to try to stay away from that shit, yeah? I just don’t want something to happen to you. Especially when I’m not there.”
Tony deflated slightly.
“Yeah,” he said tiredly. “Yeah, no, I know. I won’t drink tonight, okay? I promise. I’ll be good. Model responsible adult, right here.”
Rhodey searched his eyes for a moment, looking for a sign of Tony lying to him, before relaxing after deciding he was telling the truth.
“Good,” he said firmly. “Now hop out, I need to do my homework.”
Tony laughed, opening the car door and unbuckling. He paused after slamming the door shut behind him, peering through the window.
“Working tomorrow?” he asked.
Rhodey shook his head, fingers tapping on the steering wheel along to the radio.
“Nah, it’s my day off. I work Thursday, though.”
Tony nodded, yawning.
“Sweet. I’ll see you Thursday, then.”
Rhodey grinned slightly, eyes fond.
“Yeah, see you, buddy.”
He pulled out, driving away down the dark street. Tony watched him go, hands shoved deep into his pockets, before turning around and wandering towards his apartment. He opened his phone as he walked, swiping through his notifications. He clicked on a Twitter alert, the app opening to his feed. He scrolled for a little bit, retweeting and liking as he went. Eventually, he got bored, and exited the app.
He dropped his phone onto the counter, abandoning it in favor of searching for something to eat.
His kitchen was, as per usual for most nineteen year olds, chronically empty. Tony was a big fan of ordering always and cooking never, but that didn’t really bode well for his bank account, or his commitment to never having to talk to his father about needing more money. He was well aware that he was lucky that his parents could just write a check and fund an entire semester’s worth of spending, even if they were only willing to do so because it meant they would see less of him, but that money could only go so far if he never ate at home.
Stop wasting things that aren’t yours, Tony. You’re so ungrateful, you know that?
Tony sighed when the only thing he managed to find was the instant ramen noodles he had bought when he was drunk and craving salty goodness, the lone packet collecting dust in the back of his pantry.
The bonafide college experience, indeed.
He started a pot of water, leaving it on the stove to boil. While he waited, he reached for his phone again, rechecking his notifications. He had some unread messages, a slew of unopened emails, and a variety of Tumblr notifications. He clicked on the app, scrolling through. Some reblogs, a couple laughing emojis to some of his more well-known posts, normally in reference to Marvel.
Without thinking about it, he opened the direct messages between him and James Barnes, aka ‘nonotlikethedeer’, aka Mr. Card Thief, aka Tony’s archnemesis, scrolling through the back and forth texts. Idly, he realized that he still wasn’t blocked.
That was…intriguing, to say the least. One might call it attention-grabbing. Purposeful.
“Don’t do it, Tony,” he whispered. “You lost his info, remember?”
He stared down at the text box with a frown, watching the text bar blink.
He started typing.
~
One New Tumblr Notification
(5 New Messages)
10:42 PM
greetingsprograms: hey
greetingsprograms: ik you told me to lose your info
greetingsprograms: but i wanted to apologize for last night
greetingsprograms: that was extremely out of line and I’m really sorry
greetingsprograms: I shouldn’t have done that
greetingsprograms: I’m sorry
8:13 AM
nonotlikethedeer: You’re right, you shouldn’t have done that.
nonotlikethedeer: It was out of line.
nonotlikethedeer: I appreciate the apology, though.
nonotlikethedeer: I assume this is the more sober version of you speaking?
greetingsprograms: yeahhhh
greetingsprograms: I was definitely not all of the way there
greetingsprograms: I know that doesn’t make it okay but
greetingsprograms: yeah
nonotlikethedeer: I believe, in your own words, you were in a ‘drunketh’ state.
greetingsprograms: sounds about right
greetingsprograms: I really am sorry, though
nonotlikethedeer: So I’ve heard.
nonotlikethedeer: I wouldn’t call it fine, but I do, again, appreciate it.
greetingsprograms: I was surprised you didn’t even block me honestly
nonotlikethedeer: I considered it, but genuinely, I’ve had worse than a drunk kid threatening me over a Captain America trading card.
nonotlikethedeer: You weren’t exactly that much of a threat.
nonotlikethedeer: I was mostly just confused.
greetingsprograms: hey I’m not a kid
greetingsprograms: I’m an adult
greetingsprograms: ik admitting that is a stupid idea but my honor must be defended here
nonotlikethedeer: I’m pretty sure I know what a kid sounds like. Especially one who’s probably younger than he wants to admit.
nonotlikethedeer: And you lost that the moment you quoted Hamilton at me.
greetingsprograms: no I’m nineteen bro
greetingsprograms: an adult
greetingsprograms: also you caught the reference
greetingsprograms: so whos honor is really at stake here
nonotlikethedeer: Nineteen’s still a kid.
nonotlikethedeer: And still not mine, hacker boy.
greetingsprograms: it is literally an adult in the eyes of the law
nonotlikethedeer: ‘Teen’ is in the name.
greetingsprograms: also I’m still sorry
greetingsprograms: like actually
greetingsprograms: hacking you was not cool
nonotlikethedeer: It’s fine. Like I said, you were not a threat. I checked.
greetingsprograms: are you sure
greetingsprograms: wait
greetingsprograms: wait what
greetingsprograms: I’m sorry
greetingsprograms: you CHECKED
greetingsprograms: ?????
nonotlikethedeer: Oh, I’m sorry.
nonotlikethedeer: Are you the only one allowed to break into someone’s Craiglist account?