Work Text:
Tony spun around in his chair, his eyes passing between the clock on his wall, his work in front of him, and the ringing phone waiting to be picked up.
He really didn’t want to pick up the phone.
It was a surprise that Howard was even calling him, if Tony was being honest. He didn’t think that the old man cared that much. Since when did he make house calls to Tony?
Since never, which meant that he was calling for a bad reason. So Tony didn’t want to pick up.
The phone rang out two more times until Tony admitted defeat and picked up the phone.
“What do you want?” He asked quickly, anything to be on the offensive, get the first word in before his father yelled at him.
“Anthony, you will not speak to your father that way.”
Right. The first words his father says to him in months and he’s berating him. Well, not like Tony didn’t start it.
“Why? What gives you authority over me?”
Was he a petulant child? Maybe. Howard deserved it, though. Maybe if he had actually tried to raise Tony himself he wouldn’t have been so petulant.
“I am your father.”
“So? So could any guy with working swimmers. You aren’t special.”
It hit Tony like a rock: Howard wasn’t special, Howard’s place in his life wasn’t special, and Tony’s place in Howard’s life damn sure wasn’t special either.
As much as the Starks prided themselves on who they were, there really wasn’t anything special about Tony’s dysfunctional family.
“You might want to watch your mouth, Son.”
Tony scoffed. “You don’t get to call me that. I mean, do you even love me?”
It was a low blow because Tony knew that he didn’t. Howard had never said it, never even hinted at it.
“Anthony, don’t you—“
“You do love me?” Tony repeated, cutting him off.
“I don’t know.”
His voice was annoyed, angered. Tony hung up and sighed before Howard had a chance to say anymore.
God Tony hated him.
So why was he still trying to gain his approval?
He looked back at the clock with a sigh. Not even five minutes had passed since the last time he looked at it, when the phone had been ringing over and over again. Why had Howard even wanted to call him? Now Tony would never know.
Probably better that way.
He spun around in his chair, throwing back his head. Was it so hard to ask for a father that loved him? Was it so hard to wish that Howard expressed anything towards him other than annoyance and anger?
Well, there was no point in wishing for something that would never happen, and he would just have to get over it. Throw himself into his school work, and his singular friendship, and forget about everything else.
Isn’t that what Howard had done, after all? Throw himself into his work and forget about his family? Howard knew Captain America’s favorite color and birthday and probably couldn’t even name Tony’s hair color without looking in the mirror.
Like the narcissist he was.
Tony was still spinning around in his chair when his roommate, Rhodey, walked into their dorm.
“Hey, Tones, I got— hey, what’s wrong?”
“Just Howard being a dick again,” Tony brushed off; Rhodey was used to that particular tangent. “What were you saying?”
“I got us a cake,” Rhodey said as he stepped into the room, holding up a small circular cake.
“Ooh, gimme,” Tony said in excitement, quickly trying to forget about Howard the way he knew that Howard had so easily forgotten about him. “What for?”
“It’s your day,” Rhodey teased. “The second Monday of October.”
Tony blinked for a second before he grinned. “Kick ass day! Oh, Honey Bear, you remebered!”
Tong had told Rhodey about what was officially dubbed as ‘kick butt day’ ages ago; in fact, he was surprised that Rhodey even remembered, considering the fact that Tony had mentioned it maybe once in an incoherent ramble.
Rhodey had heard it, though, and Rhodey had remembered Tony’s mention of such a niche holiday that no one else would have remembered.
Because Rhodey was Rhodey, and of course he remembered.
“Of course I did, Tones. I love you. Now c’mon, let’s eat some cake and kick some asses.”
And, yeah, that sounded like a pretty good way to end the day to Tony.