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Tony is no romanticist. Well, there is a time in his life when he is were. But after lived for bunch of decades—he didn’t even remember his exact age—Tony is never considered whatever he’s feeling at the time as his personality or something that describe himself. It’s just something he’s into for sometime and will go away soon.
There is time when he feel like in love with someone with blond, deliciously muscly, blue eyed man, and there’s time he feel in love with a woman, though still blond, but have fierce personality and someone able to put him in his place. There is sometime, he fell in love with dark skinned man, his friends in college that live with him and still manage to became the most adult ones between the two of them.
Tony never stated exactly what is his type for a lover. None of that matters. He didn’t even know what he’s supposed to be. He tries many things through his uselessly long life. He tried to be a doctor, architect, soldier, even writer—for decades, and then tries another when it becomes boring. He wanted to find what exactly he likes. He never found one.
Not to mention that just when Tony managed to settle with a life he manage to set up for himself, and it quite nice, he can’t living it for long because just when 30 years passed—it feels like just a month for him—someone started to rummage through his pocket. Well. It’s not exactly normal for them to see someone who’s supposed to be 58 years but still looks like exactly what they look 30 years ago. Right? Human is very nosy and annoying creature. They always wanted to know about something they didn’t know, and very stubborn about it. The hunger for knowledge is what Tony like about himself, but not when that pointed to himself.
So he fled.
He abandoned that life he almost get comfortable with, for the fear someone will find out what he is. Tony realized that the world become more structured and full of rules each year, he almost forgot that he ever punch people to steal their food. Or when he have to rummage through pockets the bunch of dead bodies to search for even a sliver of coins. Or even dry and rock hard bread.
The time where chaos, deaths, and craziness is everywhere. Turns out, people learned from those times. They come out stronger and more smarter.
When they started to learn about what is the word on their skin meant, more people studying it. Their hunger for knowledge is what Tony love about human, so he starts to learn everything and come out with bunch of books. He loves science. The word first come out at 14th century.
Soulmate.
That’s what they coming for the name of what phenomenon of ‘words in your skin’, meant. Tony searched his body for a week. He hopes for a name be there in his body. He found nothing. He strip until the last piece of his fabric. None. He shave every hair on his body, desperately wanted to find any, something, a letter, in his body.
Sadly, there is none. Oh. So this is the consequences he got after dares to live longer than anyone. Tony hate fates.
At 1943 he met a small and scrawny guy. He looks like he will flew away if the air is a little bit stronger that day. He fell in a love at a story a woman named Peggy tells him; woman he already decides to be a friend in his lifetime as a Howard Stark, before then continues his life as Tony Stark, a son of Howard Stark. His new identity he prepared beforehand. He can’t let anyone know that he can’t die, right?
After the experiment done, the guy comes out wonderfully beautiful, well muscled, and incredibly strong. Erskine dead, and he—he chases an enemy and managed to bring their watership to his lab—He found out that his technology is nowhere near this technology. He feel challenged to correct this. But first, before he pull the all-nighters again, he comes to company the newly born Captain America. Gives him a few advice and shoulders to sleep on, before the man ready to face his new life tomorrow.
They fell in love.
He fell in love to the Captain America. They kissed, fuck, and support each other. And yet he learns another hurtful thing about being in love. Despite his long life.
Sometimes he alone is not enough to keep someone to stay. He learned about it the hard way.
At 1988, he drank coffee, read morning newspaper in a quiet house he owns, when he felt something burns his skin. He jolts, the newspaper fall to the ground, and he search for the source of the burns. He lift his shirt, only found a newly carved words there.
His eyes widened. Run to his bedroom, facing a full body mirror with his shirt up. He rub his eyes fiercely to make sure he’s not dreaming. It is really there. A name that he hoped he have long ago.
T’Challa, it says.
What a unique name. Yet beautiful.
He falls to the ground with his hand on his mouth, he have it. He have soulmate. After hundred years. Oh, this is feels good, yet, he can’t help but afraid. Life cannot be that kind to him. No way, they allow him to have this without tragedy. Shit, He doesn’t want to bring agony to his soulmate. He doesn’t want to destroy his soulmate’s perfect life with his own mess.
Is he truly allowed to be this happy?