Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Dad's seeing someone."

"What?" Steve asks, turning to Harley after he puts Peter to bed. It was way past their bedtime and Steve could only pray that Tony wouldn't know he let them stay up that late.

"Dad's  seeing someone," Harley repeats, rolling his eyes. Jesus, sometimes the kid's mannerisms mimicked Tony's so much that it made Steve's chest hurt.

"Yeah, well, your Dad sees someone new every month," Steve says, acting as if it doesn't bother him every time Tony gets a new partner. "Let's get you to bed, squirt."

"This time he's serious, though," Harley says, yawning as Steve picked him up.

Steve could feel his heart stop but that's not right because he doesn't care. He doesn't care that his ex-husband who he got a divorce with three years ago is moving on.

He doesn't.

He shouldn't .

__________________________________

"Harley, stop bothering your brother," Steve warns, looking at them through the rear view mirror.

"Then tell Pete to stop being such a wimp," Harley says, shaking that big toy spider of his around. Peter hated that toy but it was Harley's favorite. 

"Pops, tell him to stop. Tell him to-"

"Do you want me to tell your dad that you guys were up until 11 p.m yesterday?" Steve asks and that immediately makes them shut up. Of course Steve would never snitch because Tony would chew him out the most over it but what the kids don't know won't hurt them.

Steve was dropping them over at Tony's. It was how they worked. Tony got the kids for the whole week and he got them during the weekends, if he was in-country. It was their routine and Steve liked it. Yeah, sure, he would like to spend more time with his own kids but since that doesn't work out, he won't complain. He was okay with it, really.

As Steve pulled up to the house, he could see that Tony was waiting for them on the driveway. He always did, every Sunday evening. Tony would wait for them and Steve would drop the kids off and, sometimes, maybe even get invited in. It was his little window to Tony's life.

"Dad!" As soon as the car stopped, Peter was jumping out of his seat to run towards Tony.

He always was his favorite, Steve thinks fondly.

"Heya, kiddo," Tony says, bending down to pick Peter up. "Had fun at Pops' yesterday?"

As Peter prattled on about what they did or didn't do, Steve starts unloading the luggage. Harley helped, he started insisting that he would a few months ago because he was 'the oldest' even though he barely had a year on Peter. It was cute.

After the luggage is out and everything's done, Tony finally looks at Steve and he feels his heart leap through his mouth.

Steve hates it. Hates that even after all these years, after everything, a single look could incite such reactions from him.

"Hey, Steve," Tony says, his smile soft.

"Hi." Steve hopes that Tony doesn't notice how flustered he is.

"Thanks for taking care of these hooligans yesterday," Tony says, ruffling Harley's hair.

"God, Dad, stop it!"

"Anyways, wanna come in?" Tony offers, already turning back towards the house.

As if Steve could say no. It was the only thing he looked forward to every week, when he could spend time with Tony and the kids and pretend like everything was fine, like everything was like before.

"I would love to-"

"Babe? Are the kids here yet?"

There was a man coming out of the house. The house that Steve and Tony had bought all those years ago in hope of building a family, a stranger was coming out of it and was now standing beside Tony, his hand on his waist as if he belonged there instead of Steve.

"Ah! You must be Steve Rogers. Tony's told me so much about you," the man says, holding out his hand.

"Only good things, I hope," Steve replies, forcing out a smile even as his insides twisted and turned at an alarming speed.

"Enough to make even me jealous," he laughed.

The man was a tall and well-built blond. He wasn't as big as Steve but rarely anyone ever was. Handsome, Steve thinks despondently.

"Steve, this is Ty- Tiberius Stone. He's my new-" Tony pauses, thinks a little. "He's my new boyfriend."

Steve wants to vomit.

"Nice to meet you, Tiberius," he says instead.

"Aren't you coming in?" Tony asks, shuffling Peter a little in his arms.

"No. Gosh, Tony- I, I just remembered that I had this meeting today that I just can't miss. I have to go, I'm sorry." Steve needed to get out of there and he needed to get out of there fast.

"Again, huh?" Tony says with that sad little smile he always used to get whenever Steve missed their date nights or the kids' school function because of his work.

"I'm sorry."

"You're leaving?" Peter asks, sadly, and Steve wishes that he could say no. Wishes that he wouldn't have to go anywhere and stay here, with them, forever and ever.

"I have to go, buddy."

"But you always stay for dinner on Sunday."

"Let it go, Pete," Harley says, always trying to be the mature one. "Pops is busy."

"I'll see you guys next week," Steve says, opening his car door. He just had to get away from there and then he would calm down.

Hopefully.

__________________________________

Steve remembers the day they got married so vividly that it felt like it happened yesterday.

Barely out of college but so, so in love that they felt like they could go against the world together.

The ceremony hadn't been much. In fact there was barely a ceremony, it was just a group of friends in a dingy apartment with some wedding papers.

"And now you may kiss the groom," Thor said, his booming voice echoing across the room as everybody cheered.

"Whew! Get it, Stevie!" Bucky whistled as Sam elbowed him in the gut.

"Can't believe that dumbass got married before me," Rhodey says, sighing as Tony mocked throwing a bouquet towards him, always the one for dramatics.

That was probably the happiest day of Steve's life. But he had been so scared too. So, so scared. He was scared that he wouldn't be able to give Tony the life he deserved. Tony who had been born with anything a person could ever want for, Tony who had thrown it all away just to be with Steve, Tony who was frankly way too good for him, if Steve was being honest.

Steve had told him as such, his fears and doubts, and Tony had laughed.

"And how would you know what I want, huh?"

"It- it's not about that-" Steve starts but doesn't get to finish.

"What I want, Mr. Steve Stark-Rogers, is for you to be there for me whenever I need you to be," Tony says, his smile so fond and eyes so loving that Steve could feel his heart swell. "Maybe I did enjoy owning all those expensive stuff, getting to try so many different things, but for you Steve, I'd throw it away all over again."

That day Steve had vowed to do anything and everything he could to make sure Tony was happy, to insure that they would be okay.

Ironic Steve now thinks. That the more I would try for a better future, the more it would drive us apart.

__________________________________

As he watched Steve drive away, Tony wonders when it all started going wrong.

We used to be so happy Tony thinks. What happened?

"Dad, I'm cold," Harley says, tugging at Tony's sleeve.

Harley was a good kid, though mischievous at times. He, honestly, understood a lot of things that Peter just couldn't. Peter, on the other hand, was very soft-spoken, so sensitive that Tony worried.

Tony loved his kids so, so much. From the moment he and Steve had decided to adopt them, almost a decade ago, he had been smitten. Tony had been so scared, terrified that he would just repeat the cycle of abuse even though Steve had assured him that he would be a great dad, but the moment he saw them Tony knew that he would love them until his heart gave out.

To say that they were his only source of comfort for a long while after the divorce would not be an overstatement.

"Yeah, let me just get the bags-"

"Not to worry. What are these guns for if not to carry my beloved's bags," Ty says, flexing his arms a little.

"Show off," Tony says, letting out an exasperated sigh.

"You love it."

Tony and Ty had been childhood friends even though their fathers had been business rivals. Growing apart after high-school, Tony hadn't seen Ty in almost twenty years when he'd shown up at the local bar.

Tony had gotten quite close with the now CEO of Viastone, closer than he ever was to the man before.

Ty was great. He was nice, funny, knew exactly what to do and what to say. He set time aside for Tony even though he must have been busy heading a multimillion dollar company. Though the kids hadn't quite warmed up to him yet, Tony was sure that they would, eventually.

Ty was great.

Ty was perfect.

Ty wasn't Steve.

__________________________________

"Who's that big lug over there?"

"Oh, leave me alone, Buck."

After driving away from Tony's, Steve hadn't  gone back to his own apartment. He couldn't go back there, not to the place that felt way too big for one single person to live in, the place that only felt marginally like a home when Harley and Peter came over. So he went to the place he always went to whenever he felt like that, to Sam and Bucky's bar, and there he was hunched over a drink in a closing bar while the owners cleaned up.

"Listen, pal, I'm going to have to start charging you overtime if you keep sitting here like this," Bucky says, taking a seat beside him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Nothing's wro-"

"Stark's got a new boyfriend," Sam cuts in.

"Sam!"

"And? He's been with other people before," Bucky asks, visibly confused.

Steve knows that Bucky is right. That there was no reason for him to get this upset. Harley had told him that Tony was seeing someone new and it's not like Tony hadn't dated other people after the divorce. Hell, even Steve had been with others. But seeing that man, a stranger, in his house in a time that was supposed to be his and his family's alone, made Steve want to punch something.

"I know that, I know. It's just-" Steve sighs, takes another sip of his drink. "Nothing. It's nothing."

"Who's the unlucky bastard anyways?" Bucky and Tony never really did warm up to each other. Both too head strong for their own good, Steve thinks.

"You know, I don't appreciate-"

"Just answer the question."

"Ty, Ty- Tyler? Tyler Stone or something like that. I can't really remember." Nor does Steve want to remember. "Ty Stone."

"Well, just by hearing his name I can tell that he's probably a complete tool," Bucky says, patting Steve's back in a show of support. "Stark never deserved you anyway, buddy."

Steve had gotten so used to Bucky's little jabs against Tony that he didn't even bother to respond. He knows that Bucky still held a grudge because Tony had been the one who wanted the divorce. 

Always so overprotective Steve thinks fondly.

"I should go." It was getting late and Steve had work the next day. As usual.

"You could just stay the night, you know," Sam offers, always the good friend

"Nah. Wouldn't want to disturb your nightly routine," Steve teases. That earns him an elbow from Bucky and a laugh from Sam and it's nice. Steve feels nice. He always does after he visits Sam and Bucky.

As Steve turns to leave, Bucky calls out to him.

"Hey, Stevie, don't forget that Nat and Sharon's wedding is next week."

"Yeah, yeah."

How could Steve forget? They had all been planning this grand event for the better part of last year and it was finally getting close. About time if Steve said so himself.

Tony's going to be there, he thinks. I wonder what he's going to wear.

As Steve drives home, he decides to do something that he had never done before. He takes another detour and gets out at a night-club.

The party scene had never been Steve's forté. It had been Tony's, years ago, when they were both young. In fact, they met at a party that Bucky had dragged Steve to in his freshman year.

Not the time Steve thinks.

As Steve enters the club, he could already feel eyes on him. Steve wasn't stupid, he knew what he looked like and that it wouldn't be hard, all things considered, to take someone home if he wanted. As expected, it isn't long before he's leaving with a very attractive woman on his arm.

That night Steve doesn't go back to his apartment. Instead, he spends it in a cheap motel, bedding a nameless woman.

As he fucks into her pliant body, he can't help but wonder if Tony and Stone were doing the same thing right now. If that man, that stranger , is fucking his husband on their bed, in their home.

He wonders if Tony liked it the way he always did. He wonders if Stone could hit all of Tony's spots like Steve could. He wonders, he wonders-

It's not long before Steve's coming with Tony's name on his mouth.

__________________________________

"I still don't understand why I can't come."

Tony sighed, pausing from tying his tie. Ty had been like this since yesterday and no matter how many times Tony explained, he refused to understand.

"It's a family thing, Ty." Plus, I haven't told everyone we're dating yet. "It's going to be awkward for both of us if you go. And don't you have that meeting of yours to go to, anyway?"

"I'd ditch it if you'd asked," Ty said, trying to run a hand up Tony's shirt. He's going to ruin my damn outfit Tony thinks.

"Is he going to be there?" Ty asks and Tony knows exactly who he means. He should have known that that was what this was really about. Ty had been acting weird ever since he met Steve last week. He had been coming over more and more often, for one.

"Ty, you-"

"Dad! Tell Harley to give me my hat back!"

Just then Tony's bedroom door flies open and his favorite little menaces come rushing in.

"Harley, have you been bullying your little brother again?" Tony asks, exasperated but still thankful for the interruption.

"He looked stupid in that hat, anyway. I'm just doing him a favor," Harley replies, not even looking a little bit guilty.

"Give it back! Give it back!" Peter starts stomping his foot and Tony could see that he was on the verge of full-on crying.

"Give it back to him right now, kid."

"Fine, fine. I'll go get it."

After that, it doesn't take a lot of time for them to get ready and before Tony knows it, they're all set to leave.

"We'll talk when I get back," Tony says, leaning up to kiss Ty. Ty tried to deepen it and started pulling Tony in by the waist.

"Ty, not- not now." Tony pushes him away.

"It's always a no with you nowadays," he says, sighing and Tony thinks that he should probably feel guilty but he feels nothing but relief as he gets into his car.

"We'll talk later," he repeats as he drives away.

Tony decides that it was going to be a good day. The weather was nice- warm for late autumn, it was Sharon's wedding and there was nothing, nothing, that could bring him down-

"Is Pops going to be there?"

Oh. I almost forgot.

"Yeah. Yeah, he is."

Tony hated seeing Steve. Hated how uncomfortably tight his chest got whenever he saw the stupidly handsome man, hated how no matter how many times he tried to move on he wasn't able to even though Steve had clearly succeeded in doing so.

Tony hated how much he was in love with his ex-husband.

The wedding venue was beautiful. Tony had helped design it so, obviously. He could see Barnes and Wilson over by the mountain of gifts. Pepper was sitting all the newly arriving guests with the help of Rhodey, ever so diligent. Thor was entertaining a bunch of kids with magic tricks that Tony was sure he'd learnt from his brother by the fountain. Steve was nowhere to be seen.

After dropping the kids off with Thor, Tony goes to visit Sharon's dressing room.

"You're early," Sharon says, turning from the mirror.

"I couldn't very well be late to my favorite cousin's wedding now, can I?"

"I'm your only cousin," she huffs, rolling her eyes.

"Exactly."

Sharon looked so beautiful. Though not completely ready yet, Tony knew that she would outshine everyone there, though he might've been a little biased. Aunt Peggy would've been so proud, he thinks. He's just about to tell her that when he gets interrupted.

"Hey, Sharon, I was just dropping by to-"

He looks so good Tony thinks. He always looks so good.

Steve Rogers was standing there in all his glory in a form fitting blue suite and a tie that was slightly coming undone.

All these years and he still doesn't know how to do it right.

"Hey, Tony," Steve greets him, bashful, a hand behind his neck and Tony wonders how he does it. How a man his size could look so adorable, sometimes.

Tony knows that he should say something back, that he couldn't just keep staring at his ex-husband like an idiot. "Hey-"

"I swear to God if you two start your bullshit on my wedding day," Sharon says, throwing up her hands.

"What? What bullsh-"

"Out! Out, both of you. Let a bride get ready in peace, will you?"

After getting, unfairly, booted from the dressing room, Steve turns to him.

"How've you been, Tony?" Steve asks and Tony rolls his eyes.

"You just saw me last week," he reminds him.

"No, I mean, with Tyler. How's it going with Tyler?"

"Who?" Tony asks, confused.

"Tyler, you know, your new boyfriend."

"Tiberius."

"Huh?"

"Not Tyler. It's Tiberius."

"Yeah. Him," Steve says and Tony forces down a laugh. The thought of Ty being named Tyler Stone was just so funny to him for some reason.

"Great, actually. Ty's great. You'd like him," Tony says, walking a little in front of him.

"Yeah?" Steve gets this sad look in his eyes sometimes and Tony doesn't know why. That's not right he always thinks. Steve should never be sad.

"How's your work?" Tony asks, trying to change the subject.

"My- my work? My work, it's going-" Steve starts saying but Tony gets distracted by his tie. It looked like it was going to fall apart any second.

"Hold still."

"Huh?"

"Just hold still."

Tony starts undoing the loosely tied knot, painfully aware of how close he was to the man he hadn't been able to stop loving. The man he would never be able to stop loving, really.

" How have you not learnt how to do it right, even after all these years?" Tony asks, a fond sigh escaping his mouth.

"I always thought you'd be there to do it for me."

Tony knows that Steve doesn't mean anything by it. That it's meaningless chatter, pointless banter but that doesn't stop his heart from beating so loud that he feels like Steve could hear it. Tony looks up and he sees Steve staring down at him and if he would just lean up, just a little, then they would be-

"Pops! You're here!"

The moment is broken as Peter comes rushing towards Steve, Harley following close behind. Tony moves away as fast as he can.

"Whoa, slow down there, bud," Steve says, laughing while picking Peter up. He always looked so happy when he was with them. Tony felt such tremendous guilt sometimes, guilt that he was the one who was keeping Steve away from the children he adored so much.

"I tried to stop him, you know," Harley whispers, standing beside Tony.

" You are too nosy, mister," Tony replied, pinching his too-smart-for-his-own-good kid's cheek.

__________________________________

Steve fucked up.

He knows he fucked up. He shouldn't have said that. No matter what his feelings were, he shouldn't have said that to his ex-husband. Especially to his ex-husband who was dating someone else. 

Even though it looked like, just for a second, that Tony was leaning in for a kiss but that couldn't have been right. Great, now Steve fucked up and he's imagining things.

Tony had left the kids with him while he went to help the others in setting everything up. The ceremony was going to start any moment. Looking around, Steve couldn't help but think back to his own wedding day. It hadn't been much and Steve had always thought that they would get a more proper ceremony when they were older and able to afford it. Renewing their vows while surrounded by friends and family. 

Obviously, that didn't work out.

"Aunty Nat looks so pretty," Peter says, pointing at Natasha who was waiting at the altar.

She really, really did. Steve was so happy for her. That she would be able to grab such simple happiness after everything she went through, he was just so happy for her.

The bells started ringing and then there was Tony and Sharon. He was walking her down the aisle.

They both looked so beautiful. Sharon, in her stunning white dress and Tony in a gorgeous red and gold suite. They both looked so beautiful but Steve couldn't keep his eyes off of Tony. He was transfixed and for the briefest of the briefest moments, Tony locked eyes with him and Steve didn't know why but he felt like crying.

His heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest.

__________________________________

Steve had proposed just a week before graduation.

Walking back to their shitty apartment after a night of celebrating with their friends, tipsy and full of youthful bravado, he had knelt right there on that secluded street corner at the ass crack of dawn and asked the love of his life to marry him. 

"Marry me," Steve says, taking Tony's hand. He knows that he's going to say yes. After all, Tony loved him so much.

They loved each other so much.

"Steve, what-" Tony looked a little confused. Still in a drunken haze.

"I know. Okay, I know that I don't have much going on for me right now, that you could do so much better but Tony, I love you. I don't even know what I'm going to do with my future but what I do know is that I want to spend every moment of it with you." Steve knows that, normally, Tony would call him a sap, tease him for being too cheesy but he doesn't care. This was the most important moment of his life and like hell is he going to mess it up.

"I wanted to be the one who asked, idiot,"  Tony says and Steve could see tears in his eyes and, at that moment, there was nothing more he wanted to do than kiss it all away.

They had made love countless times that night and every time he spent himself inside Tony, Steve had vowed to make this man so happy. That they would be so happy, together for a whole lifetime.

We were so young Steve now thinks. So young.

Chapter Text

Time flies by after the wedding and, before Steve knows it, it's December.

Steve had spent the last month like he always did- wake up, go to work, come back home, sleep, repeat until it's the weekend when Harley and Peter would come over. Then do it all over again.

He was going about his usual Friday morning, doing paperwork in his office, when he'd gotten the most unusual call. It was from Harley's school, which had never happened before.

"Hello, is this Mr. Steve Rogers?"

"Yes, this is he. Who's calling?"

"Yes, hello, this is from Avengers Institute and I'm calling about a Mr. Harley Stark-Rogers-"

"Is something wrong?" Steve immediately sits up, his heart racing a hundred miles a minute.

Did something happen? Was he hurt? Oh my God-

"No, no, nothing so serious but I would appreciate it if you could come over immediately."

"I'm on my way." Steve had already gotten his jacket and was almost sprinting his way out of his office.

Usually, all calls from school went over to Tony. Steve used to get them, before, when they were together and even then not so much because he used to be so busy and Tony, who worked from home, would handle it. So now that he gets the call, there must've been something seriously wrong even though the caller had said there wasn't. He thinks about all the ways it could've gone wrong, about how his baby boy might be hurt and curses his car for not going faster.

Steve reaches the school in record time and makes his way to the principal's office as fast as he could. The first thing he notices when he gets there is Harley sitting there with a bloody nose and Steve knew, he knew, that he had gotten hurt even though-

"Mr. Rogers, please take a seat." The principal, a thin red haired man in glasses, gestures to an empty seat in front of him.

"What- what-"

"Please calm down and take a seat, Mr. Rogers."

Steve takes a deep breath and takes a seat beside Harley who looked more sullen than he had ever seen him before. "What happened?"

"Harley, do you want to explain to your father what you did?"

Harley doesn't respond.

"Well, your son has been acting erratically for quite a number of days and it looks like, today, it finally culminated in him attacking another student for no discernable reason."

"Is this true, Harley?" Steve asks, shocked. Though always a little mischievous, his son had never been the violent type.

"Pertaining to his wishes, I called you instead of Mr. Stark even though I have no idea why-"

"I want to go home," Harley says, suddenly. "I want to go home."

After filling out the necessary paperwork, Steve goes back to his car where Harley's waiting for him in the front seat.

"You want to tell me why you did what you did today, bud," Steve asks even though he knows he's not going to get an answer.

As expected, there's no response.

"Well, your Dad's not going to-"

"Don't! Don't tell him."

"Harley, I can't-"

"Please!" Harley pleads and he looks so desperate that Steve's heart aches.

"Okay, okay. He's going to notice the bloody nose, you know."

"Then don't take me home," Harley says and suddenly his eyes light up. "Take me to your apartment."

Steve couldn't understand why Harley was behaving like this. Why he was so against the idea of Tony knowing that he got into a fight but at that moment he looked so small, his kid who sometimes felt way too mature for his age, that Steve couldn't refuse him even if he tried.

"Well, alright. Let me just call him to tell him where you'll be for the rest of the day. He worries about you, you know." Steve ruffled Harley's hair as he got out of the car.

Things had been awkward with Tony after the wedding even though it felt like only Steve who was overly conscious whenever he was around. He couldn't help it, Steve's chest felt tighter and tighter each time he saw the man. He had even stopped going to dinner on Sundays at the house because the thought of being in the same room with Tony and Stone whilst they made goo goo eyes at each other made his blood boil.

"Hey, Tony. This is Steve."

"Steve? Is something wrong?"

"No, no, nothing's wrong. Why would something be-"

"You never call unless something's wrong. What happened?"

"Nothing's wrong, Jesus. I was just calling to let you know that I picked Harley up early-"

"What!?"

"-and that he'll be staying with me-"

"Steve, you can't just-"

"-for the rest of the day. Please, Tony, let me have this."

Steve could hear a sigh coming from the other end.

"Why?"

"Father-son bonding, you know. Can't a man want to spend time with his own son?"

"Well, one thing I know for sure is that there's no changing your mind once you've made it up. Just make sure he has fun, Rogers," Tony says and even though he can't see him at the moment, Steve knows that he has a small smile on his beautiful face.

Steve loves him so much.

"Talk to you later, Steve."

I love you.

"Yeah. Bye."

As he cuts the line, Steve wonders if these feelings of his would ever go away. He knows that it wasn't healthy to be so hung up on his ex-husband who was going steady with a new boyfriend. He should probably get back out there, he hadn't even slept with anyone after that nameless woman that one night.

After calling the office to let them know that he'd be taking the rest of the day off, Steve drives them back to his apartment.

As they reach their destination, Steve wonders what they should do. What was the ideal bonding thing to do- watch a movie, go hiking, maybe even play catch and ball-

"I hate him." Steve pauses from unlocking the door.

"What?"

"I hate him," Harley repeats, more forceful.

"Who're you talking about, kid?" Steve asks, ushering Harley inside.

"The man," he says, plopping down on the couch. "That man."

"Harley-"

"He's always there, even when I don't want him to be. And he makes Dad so sad."

That makes Steve take a step back.

"Is Tony okay-"

"Dad doesn't say anything but I can see it. He makes him so sad all the time and I- I don't understand why-" Harley had gotten so wound up that he had started scratching furiously at his left hand. An old habit he apparently hadn't grown out of even though Steve hadn't seen it in a long while.

He does the only thing he could think of at that moment, Steve hugs his oldest son.

"Calm down. I need you to take a few deep breaths and calm down there, squirt."

"Come home. Come back home," Harley says, sniffling.

Steve wishes he could. God, he wishes he could.

"You know I can't, buddy," he says, instead.

They stay like that for a long while, Harley sobbing into Steve's shoulder, as Steve's mind raced to other things.

Was Tony okay? He had always thought things were going great with Stone, at least Tony always told him so. Maybe it was just a childish tantrum of Harley's or maybe Stone actually was the piece of shit that Steve always knew he would be.

"Don't tell Dad about this," Harley says, finally. "Please."

"I won't," Steve ruffles his kid's hair. "I promise."

After that, he helps Harley clean up and then turns on his comfort movie. It was a movie from Steve's childhood, about a man with iron skin and a golden heart. He used to watch it all the time when his dad got too drunk and he needed to shut out the screaming and crying going on in the background. He hoped that it would help cheer Harley up, too.

When they're halfway through the movie and Harley's lightly dozing off, tired from crying, Steve hears the doorbell ring. He thinks that maybe it's Bucky, dropping by to check if he was still alive. What he doesn't expect is to see Tony standing there, looking awkward, with a Peter who looked like he'd been bawling his eyes out.

"I'm really sorry about this-" Tony starts.

"No, no, come in," Steve eagerly gestures him in. Tony had never been to his apartment. The three years he had lived there, Tony never came.

"Harley? Where's Harley?" Peter asks, tearfully, and Steve guesses the reason for this visit.

"He's in the living room, Pete, but shhh, alright, he might be sleeping."

Peter makes his way to Harley, leaving Steve and Tony alone. Steve doesn't know what to say. They hadn't been alone at all after Nat and Sharon's wedding.

"This- this is nice," Tony tries to break the awkward tension. "This place, it's nice."

Steve didn't think so. His apartment, while maybe big, fancy and aesthetically pleasing, it wasn't a home.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. You really did well for yourself, Rogers."

"Come on, I'll show you around."

As Steve showed him the place, he marvels at how quickly Tony fits there. He wonders if, maybe, this big, empty place would feel like a home if only Tony lived there. He thinks that anywhere could be a home if he was with Tony.

While he was showing him the kitchen, Tony started laughing.

"What's so funny?" Steve asks, narrowing his eyes.

"Do you remember? When we first got a toaster and the first time it did its job you thought it was gonna blow up?"

Steve blushes at the memory.

To be fair, Steve's family had never been able to afford such fancy gadgets. So when that darned thing had made that loud noise in the morning, Steve had panicked and almost thrown it out of the window. He would've done it too if Tony hadn't stopped him.

"Leave me alone, I'm a senior citizen."

"We're the same age, dumbass," Tony says, rolling his eyes and, at that moment, it felt so much like before that Steve almost leaned down to kiss him. However, when he looks down, he sees a red spot on Tony's neck.

"Tony, there's something-" he says, pointing at his own neck.

"What? Oh."

Tony's ears start turning red and Steve realizes what it was.

Ah. A love-bite, huh?

The mood sours, immediately, and Steve wishes he never saw it. Wishes he never saw tangible proof that the person he loved the most in the entire world was in love with someone else.

"I- I should go," Tony says, hastily moving out of the kitchen. "It's getting late."

"Does he make you happy?" Steve asks. He doesn't know what answer he wants to receive.

Tony turns back and looks at him with those beautiful, beautiful eyes of his. "Yes. Yes, he does."

Steve wishes he never asked.

When they get to the living room, Steve sees that Peter and Harley had fallen asleep, curled into each other.

"Now what am I gonna do?" Tony asks, sighing.

"They could just spend the night here," Steve offers.

Tony pauses and thinks about it a little.

"Well, you would be picking them up tomorrow-"

"You, too." Steve doesn't know what prompted him to say that.

"What?"

"You spend the night here, too."

"Steve, I can't-"

"It's late." It was only seven p.m. Tony could drive home, safe, easy. "It's so late, Tony."

There's a brief pause, again, and then Tony chuckles.

"Where would I sleep?"

"My room, or the guest room. Any room you want." So many rooms. I never even had my own room, growing up.

"Dinner?"

"I'll cook."

"You don't know how to."

"I'll learn."

"In a single night?"

Steve blushes, realizing Tony was teasing him.

"Take-out, then," Steve huffed.

"Okay, okay," Tony throws up his hands in a show of defeat. "You win. I'll stay."

Steve breathes a sigh of relief. He didn't want Tony to go back home, back to him, not tonight. Even if it was for a single night, he wanted Tony to be with him instead of Stone.

"Well, help me carry the children to their beds, then," Tony says, moving in to pick up Harley. "You take Peter."

They felt so much like a family that Steve wanted to cry.

After they're done and Tony's washing up, Steve's ordered take-out and is now picking out a movie, he thinks back to when this used to be a weekly occurrence.

Every Saturday night, after Steve got back from work, they would choose a movie based on whose turn it was and eat cheap take-outs.

"Tony, I swear to God if you choose The Bee movie again-"

"It's a good movie."

"No, it's not. You just like it because it annoys me."

"The children like it."

"No, they don't!"

"Abugugu!"

"See, Peter likes it."

Steve decides on a superhero film.

It takes a few more minutes until Tony gets back. He's wearing Steve's clothes.

"Hey, uh, Steve, I didn't have any other clothes so I just-" Tony says, looking bashful.

Steve doesn't understand why he's embarrassed. He used to wear his clothes all the time. In fact, there was a time when Tony had worn nothing but Steve's shirt and there was cum, Steve's cum, dripping down his-

"No, no. You look," gorgeous, amazing, perfect, "nice. You look nice. The food's here already."

They get settled in nice and comfy, side by side, and start the movie.

"Christmas is soon," Tony says, suddenly.

"Huh?"

"Christmas. It's soon."

"I know?" Steve was confused. Why did he suddenly start talking about Christmas?

"No, I mean, you should come. On Christmas, to the house. I know you don't like going there anymore but- the children would like it. You should come." Tony's not even looking at him.

He thinks that I hate going to our home. That I hate going to the only place that makes me feel like I belong.

"I will."

Time passes by and the next time Steve looks at him, Tony's sleeping.

He looked so beautiful that Steve's hand itched to put him on paper. But Steve couldn't do that anymore. He hadn't drawn in such a long, long time. His notebook which used to be so full of drawings of Tony and everything he loved, it was empty now.

It was empty.
__________________________________

Tony wakes up before everyone else.

For a second, just for a second, he thinks that everything is okay. Steve was right there beside him, sleeping with his mouth open like an idiot and everything was fine, everything was like before when Tony was happy.

Then he looks at his surroundings, the too pristine atmosphere, the fancy TV, Steve's beard that he'd grown after the divorce and reality sets in.

Tony knows that he shouldn't have stayed the night. It went against all common sense, to spend a night in your ex-husband's house but Tony never could say no to Steve.

Ty was going to be so mad.

Things were not going well with Ty. They had started out so amazingly, Tony thinks, but went downhill so fast.

But Tony liked Ty. He really, really did. Sure, he didn't love him like he loves Steve but that was an impossible standard. Tony would never love anyone like he loves Steve.

Tony liked Ty and he wanted to make it work. That's why he was willing to overlook him constantly coming over unannounced, him leaving marks in visible places even though Tony had told him numerously not to. Tony was also willing to overlook the frighteningly possessive streak Ty got whenever Steve was concerned, how he could get so forceful and could say such hurtful things, sometimes.

But it was okay, Tony liked Ty.

After cleaning up and changing back to his own clothes, Tony checks his phone and, sure enough, there were seven missed calls from Ty and a bunch of texts.

He's going to be so mad Tony thinks again.

Tony goes to check in on the kids. Peter had thrown such a fit the last day after learning that Harley would be away for the whole day. Even though always bickering, they were such a tight-knit pair of brothers.

"Tony? You're up?"

It looked like in his haste to get ready, Tony had accidentally woken Steve.

"Yeah, I should probably get going. Sorry if I woke you."

"No, it's alright. I thought you'd stay for breakfast, though," Steve says, scratching his majestic beard.

Tony doesn't get it. How could someone be so attractive even while doing such mundane things?

"No, Ty's probably worried. I should go," he says again, putting on his shoes. "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah," Steve says with a sleepy smile.

Tony remembers when they first started living together. Steve used to try to get him to join him on his morning runs and Tony used to hate it. I mean, what sane person wakes up at four a.m everyday?

That all stopped after Steve got more and more busy with his work, though.

The last year of their marriage was not… a happy one. Steve used to never be home and Tony wondered if it was his fault. Wondered if he was doing something so wrong, that he was such a monumental fuck-up that even his husband didn't want to spend time with him anymore. It didn't help that the scant moments Steve was home, they used to fight over the pettiest things. It was, honestly, better for both of them and the children that they broke it off when they did.

The last thing Tony would ever want is to end up hating Steve Rogers.
__________________________________

Steve was in trouble.

It was only a few days before Christmas and he had no idea, none, on what to get Tony. He had already bought presents for the kids but he couldn't figure out what the man he spent the better part of his life with would want.

"How about that one?" Nat points at a winter cloak.

Steve had dragged Natasha along with him the past few days in his search for the perfect gift. She was one of the only ones in his acquaintance who had a good sense for gifts. Bucky would've just told him to buy some socks and call it a day.

"No, no, Tony already has one like that. Plus, I don't like the color."

"Steve," Nat sighs, "you know, I get what you're trying to do, I really do but I don't see the point of me being here if you're just going to veto everything I pick out. And you know Sharon, my wife who I love and adore, I would like to spend more time with her but I can't do that when I'm being dragged along this never ending quest of yours."

Natasha had gotten so prone to dropping "my wife" in any conversation she had with them. Steve wonders if he was as embarrassing when he first got married. He probably was worse.

"C'mon, Nat, it has to be perfect. It's my first Christmas with him after so long." Three years. It was his first Christmas with Tony after three fucking years. "It has to be perfect."

They spend another hour window shopping, at some point Natasha threatens to stab him if he doesn't decide soon, when something finally catches his eyes.

It was a snow-globe, as cheesy as that sounds. Steve didn't even know they sold these anymore. In the globe there were two lovers, clutching each other so tightly, while it snowed all around. Nothing in the world but them and their dance.

It reminded him of the first Christmas he had with Tony after they got married. They had been, surprisingly, invited to the Stark Mansion. Tony was so excited. No matter what, he always did want to patch things up with his parents.

Things, though, hadn't gone so well.

Steve had gotten into such an explosive shouting match with Howard, he can't even remember about what. Maybe it was how he was criticizing Tony's every move, saying things that you should never, ever say to your own son or maybe it was his continuous snide remarks about Steve's upbringing. Doesn't matter. What does matter is that Tony had been so sad.

They were walking home from the mansion, too broke to even afford a taxi. Tony was so sad. He didn't say anything but Steve knew he was, the usual hyper verbal man being so quiet and all.

The bright lights and beautiful decorations did nothing to alleviate the mood, serving to only worsen it as they were reminded of all the things they couldn't afford.

They were halfway home when Steve got a brilliant idea.

"Dance with me," Steve says, putting out a hand.

"Steve, wh-"

"It's Christmas. Dance with me."

"There's no music," Tony says, smiling sadly.

"There is. You just have to listen closely." Steve doesn't even know what he, himself, is saying.

Finally Tony takes his hand and there they were, dancing in the middle of a street with closed shops while the world slept.

Just the two of them.

Steve decides on the snow-globe.

After buying it, Natasha quickly takes her leave, eager to get home. Steve wonders what it feels like- wanting to go home, knowing that someone's waiting for you. He can't remember anymore.

Steve decides to look around a little more, buy some things for his friends. He had been so caught up in making sure that Tony's gift would be just right that he had neglected everything else.

He's looking at a falcon pin, debating whether it's too tacky or not for Sam when he sees someone he never expected to meet at a jewellery store. Or want to meet anywhere, really.

Tiberius Stone had this easy confidence about him that you can only have when everything in life has been handed to you. It doesn't take him long to notice Steve.

"Rogers! Fancy meeting you here."

"You too," Steve replied curtly. He had no wish to have a conversation with the man.

"Getting something special for a lady friend, huh?" Stone asks with a nudge and a wink as if they were friends. As if Steve could handle the sight of him for more than two minutes.

Steve doesn't even bother to grace that with a response.

That doesn't deter Stone, though. "If you're here anyways, help me out, man."

"With what?"

"Picking out a ring."

Steve stops in his tracks.

"You've done it before, right? Pick out a ring for Tony," Stone says with a smile that looked friendly but Steve knows to be anything but.

It was too soon. It was way too soon. Stone and Tony hadn't even been together for a full year. Things were moving way too fast.

"Wh-wha-"

"I know, I know what you're thinking. But I figured why wait, you know? Tony and I love each other so much, after all."

Steve could feel his throat clog up.

"I- I should go-"

"What, leaving so soon? And here I thought you were going to help me out." Stone's voice is innocent as if he doesn't know, as if he isn't deliberately saying all this to him knowing what Steve feels about Tony.

How could Steve even think about helping him out? Helping another man pick out a ring for the person he loved the most in the entire world?

Steve has no right, he knows he has no right to feel like this. He should be happy, ecstatic that his ex-husband found someone new who loved him so much, who would be able to provide him with so many things that Steve was never capable of, but that didn't stop his heart from feeling like it was going to give out any second.

Steve drives for what feels like hours, not knowing where to go or what to do. He thinks that he should probably get back to his apartment, it was getting late, but the thought of being alone there with only his oppressive thoughts for company made Steve want to hurl.

So he drives and drives until he reaches a place he hadn't been to in such a long time. He looks at the old building and thinks that finally, after such a long and tiring decade, he's finally home.

Steve was standing in front of the first apartment he shared with Tony; the place where their life began.

He could see light coming from his old home and wondered who lives there now. Wonders if they were as happy as Steve and Tony had been.

Steve sometimes thinks that their life should have continued the way it was. Though incredibly poor, they had been so happy, so much happier than Steve was now when he actually did have money.

He sits there for a few more minutes when he realizes that his phone is ringing.

"Hey, Buck."

"Steve, where are you? You told us you were coming over to the bar tonight."

Oh, yeah, he did, didn't he? Steve had thought that after picking the perfect present, he would spend some time with his friends, drinking the night away. Somehow he wasn't in the mood for it anymore.

"Something else came up. Sorry, buddy."

There's a pause.

"You know that you can tell me if something's wrong, right pal?"

Always so intuitive. That's what happens when you know each other your whole life, Steve thinks.

"Nothing's wrong. I just, I just needed some time. Alone."

That was it. Steve just needed some time and he would feel better. He needed to feel better.

Maybe Bucky guesses that Steve doesn't want to talk about it because he doesn't push any farther.

"Well, I'm always here if you wanna talk. Who else is going to get your dumbass back up after the fall, huh?" Bucky says, letting out an exasperated sigh.

He was such a good friend. Steve didn't deserve him, really. Steve probably didn't deserve any of his friends.

"Talk to you later, Buck."

Steve knows that he should get going. It was getting late and he couldn't just sit there staring at an old building.

Steve needed to get back to his apartment.

Steve wanted to go back home.

Chapter Text

Steve… might have gone a little overboard.

His mountains of gifts could barely fit in his car. He had to stash them in with all the force he could muster. Some of the gifts toppled out the moment the car door opened.

At least the kids were happy.

They were jumping around, squealing, arguing over which ones were theirs. Suffice to say, it was more than enough to put a smile on his face.

"Are you out of your mind?!"

Steve winces. He knew this moment was coming. He was dreading it since he realised he bought too many gifts .

He backs away, puts up placating hands. "I have a very good reason for this," he says, knowing full well he had no good reason. He was just saying it to calm Tony down. The man was a full head shorter than him but Steve was still scared to death of him.

Tony was wearing an apron over a red sweater. The apron was smeared with flour, cookie dough and chocolate. Some of it had even gotten into his hair. Even like this, Steve finds him the most beautiful man who's ever lived.

God, he was whipped.

" What good reason, Steve?" Tony huffs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "You can't keep doing this, you know. Just last year, you sent over that- that PS-5-"

"Harley told me he wanted on-"

" Why would you listen to an ten year old? Peter once said he wanted to eat a mountain made out of chocolate but you don't see me-"

"Well, you know what, maybe you should make one for him. I think, as parents, we have a responsibility to-"

"Do you want to finish that sentence, mister?" Tony was jabbing his spatula at Steve's chest, glaring up at him

Steve gulps, shrinks back down. "No, thank  you, sir," he squeaks.

"Very good. Now, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"I'm sorry?" he ventures.

Tony smiles, moves away. "You're going to help me bake all the cookies, Rogers, and then, depending on how they come out, I might think about forgiving you."

For punishment, that sure seemed like heaven. "I guess you leave me no other choice, Your Highness."

Steve had woken up that day feeling more excited than ever. He was never big on Christmas. When he was a kid, it was just a day he had to spend more time than usual with his dad which he very much did not want. The first time he felt the so-called 'Magic of Christmas', it was with Tony.

Back in college, when they were just acquaintances with mutual friends,Tony had kissed him under a mistletoe.

"Get it, Rogers," someone shouts from the back of the room.

Steve could not believe what was happening. Tony Stark, the Tony Stark, one of the most popular guys on the campus, was kissing him, pulling him in by the collar.

He doesn't know what to do with his hands. Should he put them on Stark's waist? But wasn't that too forward? But didn't people like a little forward?

Stark breaks away, panting. A thin strand of saliva hangs between them. Steve chases it with his eyes.

"Mistletoe," Stark says, pointing upwards. 

Steve feels dizzy throughout the rest of the party and it has nothing to do with the amount of eggnog he drinks.

Then came the Christmases with his family; Tony, Harley, Peter. They were the most blissful of days, days he could not have imagined living back when he was just a kid whose dad had a tendency of getting violent when drunk, didn't matter if it was Christmas or not.

Peter and Harley would wake them up at the crack of dawn, jumping on the bed, as excited as only children can be when it's Christmas and all they have to think about is opening gifts and eating turkey.

Friends would come visit and the gifts under the tree would keep stacking. And then, when everyone was gone and the children were put to bed, Steve would give Tony his gift and Tony would give him his. They would make sweet, sweet love and fall asleep, wrapped in each other's arms.

The Christmases after the divorce were days he would rather not think about. Cold, empty days spent wondering what Tony and the kids were doing. He didn't even visit Bucky, Sam or any of his friends, just wallowed in self-pity.

But this one was going to be different. He was going to spend it with them. With them . With Tony and the kids. Even if it wouldn't be like before, he was just happy to spend time with his family.

The thought of what Stone said still lingered in his mind; about the engagement, whether he'd already asked and whether Tony had already said yes.

He wonders if Tony was going to break the news that he was going to get married again.

He wonders if he could even pretend to be happy for him.

"Pete, I told you not to eat the raw cookie dough."

"But it's yummy ," Peter protests. One of his little hands was inside the bowl on the counter, standing on his tippy toes to get to it.

Tony sighs. "I know, sweetheart, but it's bad for you, okay? It makes you sick. You don't want to get sick, do you?"

"No," he murmurs. Steve sneaks in a bite from his own bowl while Tony's not looking.

They were all in the kitchen, baking cookies. Harley and Peter were pressing cookie cutters into the batches waiting to be put in the oven and Steve and Tony were making the batter.

"Dad," Harley calls, "I can't get the oven to start."

Tony rushes over to help him just as the doorbell rings. "Can you get that, Steve?" he asks.

Steve nods, takes off his apron (a blue one that says 'Mr. Good Lookin' is Cookin') and goes to get the door.

He thinks that maybe it's Stone but, instead, finds Colonel James Rhodes standing on the doorway, a pile of gifts in his arms.

"Rogers," he greets. "I didn't expect to see you here."

Steve could feel the icy tone of his voice. He and Rhodes used to get along well enough before… well, before everything. Now, Steve would not be wrong to say the man hated his guts.

"Yeah, well," he fidgets. "Tony told me I could spend the day with the kids, so here I am."

"He really is too nice for his own good," he says as he moves past Steve and into the house. 

Yeah, Steve thinks. He really is.

"Harley, Pete," Rhodes calls out. "Look who's here."

The kids come running, half covered in flour, at the sound of his voice.

"Uncle Rhodey!" Peter squeals, hugging him.

"What did you bring me? What did you bring me?" Harley's eyes were only on the boxes of gifts.

"Harley," Tony chastises, coming out of the kitchen. "Is that how you greet your godfather?" Tony embraces his old friend, kissing him on the cheek. "You're spoiling them rotten, Rhodey."

"I can't help it," he grins. "They're my favorite nephews."

After that is a string of guests all with presents of their own. Steve had forgotten how lively it got during Christmas.

It gets so busy that he can barely see Tony at all but he does have fun catching up with everyone again. They were all, to a degree, surprised to see him there. Some even thought he and Tony were getting back together. He wishes he could say they were everytime they ask but he can't and there's nothing he can do about it so he just forces a smile and says " No, we're just friends. Co-parents. "

It's evening by the time the last of them leave (Carol has to be dragged away by Jess because she can't bear to part with her 'cute little captains').

Tony flops down onto the sofa. "Peace at last," he sighs. There's a loud thump and a scream from Peter. "Maybe I spoke too soon."

Steve chuckles, this was the most warm and happy he's felt in a while, in years. And to think this hectic day used to be the norm back when they were… when they were…

Steve hadn't realised how much he's missed them.

The source of the thump was a large gift box that had fallen and spooked Pete in the process. Harley was laughing hysterically at his brother's misfortune.

"What are you guys doing?" Tony asks, raising an eyebrow.

Harley's laugh immediately stops. "Nothing," he says, shuffling his feet.

Tony narrows his eyes. "Were you trying to open your gifts? Before dinner?"

"Yes," Peter giggles just as Harley says, "No!"

Steve hides a smile. His kids were just so cute!

"I thought we had a deal, guys," Tony says, hands on waist. "No opening of gifts until dinner's over and everyone's cleaned up after themselves."

"But it's Christmas, Dad!" they both say in unison.

"It is Christmas, Tony," Steve interjects.

There's a moment of silence. "Fine," Tony groans. "But I want you to finish your dinner and be in bed by ten tonight. Understood?"

They nod enthusiastically.

"How much did they cost?" Tony asks, looking at the state of the art bicycles Steve had gotten the kids (a dusty yellow for Harley and red for Peter).

"Not much," he lies. They had cost a pretty penny but he didn't really care if they made his kids happy. Besides, it wasn't like he couldn't afford it.

Tony snorts. "Of course they didn't," Tony says, voice laced with sarcasm. "You never spend more than what's necessary on the kids, do you?"

Steve can't help the smile that crosses his face, remembering that that sarcasm and quickness of tongue were the reasons he had fallen in love with the man in front of him.

Tony's gift was still boring a hole in his backpack. It was the time for exchanging gifts and, yet, he still hadn't given it to him. Why, he couldn't tell.

Tony holds out a box wrapped in blue and tied with a red ribbon in front of him. At first, Steve couldn't tell it was for him. He looks around until he sees Tony's incredulous expression and realizes it was.

"Is it- is this for me?" he asks, voice cracking a little. Just the thought that Tony still thought about him enough to buy him something was more than enough for him

"It's Christmas," Tony chuckles. "Would be a little weird if I didn't get you anything, right?"

There was a card on top that said, ' For you, who never buys himself anything nice' . Steve slowly uncovers the wrapping and sees that it's a cologne. A cologne from Tom Ford, to be exact.

"Tony, this- this is expensive," he says, looking up.

"So?" Tony replies. "I'm allowed to splurge, once in a while. Besides, I was getting tired of that cheap smell always around you. You're rich now, Rogers. You've gotta learn how to dress like it."

But everything I've ever earned is for you, he thinks. I earned every single penny thinking about how I can give you a better life. They're not for me. Never for me.

"I've got something for you too, Pops," Peter says, hiding something behind his back.

Steve tears his eyes away from his ex husband. "What is it, bud?" he asks, gently beckoning him closer.

It was a painting. Of a family. The two men, a buff blonde and a more slender dark haired man, were holding hands while between them stood their two children, smiling from ear to ear.

Steve feels his eyes cloud over.

How did he lose this? Them. How did he lose them?

The children go to sleep quickly enough, tired from playing with their new gifts and toys. Steve puts them to bed while Tony cleans up the remnants of dinner and the wrapping papers around the tree.

Steve finds him in the living room, changed into a red robe with a wine glass in hand.

"Are they asleep?" Tony asks, looking over at him.

"Sound." He takes a seat, trying not to look at the slip of leg through the robe.

"They were really excited about you coming today," Tony says, taking a sip. "You're good with them, Steve. Really. Sometimes, I think that, maybe," he doesn't finish the sentence.

"What?" Steve asks.

"Maybe they would have been better off with you. They certainly look like they have more fun. I'm always telling them what to do or what they can't eat and I just, I don't know, I feel like they smile more when they're with you."

Steve remembers this; Tony's bouts of insecurities. When they were dating, even the slightest of arguments would lead to Tony being convinced that Steve was going to break up with him, that he wasn't good enough for him, that he wasn't enough . Who would've thought that the man who projected such a confident persona was really just a bundle of nerves inside?

"Tony," Steve says softly. "Do you know who Peter asks for every time he wakes up from a bad dream at the apartment? You . Last month, when Harley scraped his knees, all he wanted from me was to call you. They adore you. You're blind if you don't see that."

Tony visibly softens, sinks deeper into the sofa. "They're such good kids."

"They're our kids," Steve says, smiling.

Tony looks at him with an unreadable expression. "Yeah," he says. "They are."

Steve looks away first. "Where's Stone?" he asks, clearing his throat. "Didn't see him today."

"Back at Long Island," Tony says. "To spend Christmas with his mother. I would've gone with him but, well, let's just say not everyone can be Sarah Rogers."

Steve chuckles. Before her death, his mother and his husband got along to a frighteningly good degree. So much so that there were times Steve even felt jealous, left out. Sarah adored her son-in-law and Tony thought of her as his own mother.

He sometimes wonders what she would think about their divorce.

"He'll be back in a few days, though," Tony continues.

"How are things with him? Any good news?" he prompts.

Tony seems puzzled, furrows his brows. "No, not particularly. Why?"

So he hadn't proposed yet. Steve knows that he was going to ask sooner or later but he still feels a little better.

"Just asking." Steve's eyes fall on the clock hanging over the opposite sofa. It was almost midnight. "I should get going."

Tony follows his line of sight. "You could stay," he offers. "For the night, I mean. The kids would be happy to see you in the morning."

He almost says yes, that he would stay the night. God , he wants to say so. But he knows that he was already treading dangerously close and he doesn't want to make his heartbreak worse than it already was.

"I've got some paperwork I should probably be making a headstart on," Steve says. For a second, Tony almost looks sad, like he wanted him to stay but it's gone as soon as it was there and Steve thinks that he must've imagined it.

The gift wrapped in red was still boring a hole in his backpack.

"Tony," he calls, voice almost a murmur. He was nervous; what if he didn't like it?

"Yes?" Tony turns his beautiful eyes on him.

Steve holds out the gift, heart beating a million miles a second.

"Is this for me?" Tony asks softly, gently touching the box.

"It's Christmas. Would be a little weird if I didn't get you anything," Steve says, parroting Tony's earlier words.

The time Tony spends unpacking the box feels like an eternity. Steve keeps thinking about how he should've gotten something better, prettier, more expensive.

The snowglobe stands to full attention, inside the lovers were still locked in their embrace. Tony turns the key and a gentle melody fills the room, the snow starts falling and the lovers start dancing.

It reminds Steve so much of that day, their first Christmas after marriage, nothing to their names but, in actuality, everything in their lives.

Tony doesn't say anything. For a few minutes, the only sound in the room is the sad, beautiful melody that seemed to express more than words ever could. When the song is over, Tony murmurs, "It's perfect."

The next second, Tony's hugging him. Steve feels his breath hitch, heart stop. He thinks that it's maybe another one of his dreams but no , it's Tony, it's him, the real him.

"Thank you," Tony says into his shoulder. Steve breathes in his scent, that light, breezy smell that was a mixture of perfume and Tony himself and he wants to cry because it was so, so familiar and he had missed it so much. Missed him so much.

He doesn't know who makes the first move. All he does know is that he's pressing Tony into the sofa and Tony's making those delicious noises he always does when he's like this.

It's hurried and frantic, nothing like they used to be before. Steve's licking into his mouth and Tony's pulling him in by the neck, pulling him closer. He kisses a trail down his neck, Steve knows just where to suck, where to touch. Almost four years have passed but Steve still knows every single intimate detail.

His hand is sneaking down Tony's robe when there's a ringing of a phone. Tony's phone. Time seems to stop as what was happening finally dawns on them.

Steve moves away, not looking at Tony, not wanting to see the regret in his eyes.

"It's Ty," Tony murmurs after looking at his phone. He pulls his robe closer, covering himself up.

Steve closes his eyes. He was so stupid. He was so, so stupid.

"Hi, darling," Tony says and Steve almost responds before remembering that it wasn't him he was calling. It would never be him again.

"Yeah, I was just going to bed.

No.

I miss you too.

That sounds nice.

How is she?

That's good. That's good.

I hope you bought something nice for me too.

Yeah.

Come home soon.

I love you," Tony smiles before hanging up.

'Love'. The word sticks like glue to Steve's mind. Don't say that, he wants to say. Don't tell someone else you love them. Not in front of me.

The ticking of the clock is almost too loud to bear. Steve clenches his hand, unclenches it, searching for the words to say.

"This was a mistake," Tony finally says after agonising seconds of silence and Steve feels his already shattered heart shatter into a million more pieces.

God, he was so stupid.

The apartment feels emptier than usual when he walks through the door. Empty and cold, devoid of any sort of warmth. When he closes his eyes, he can still see them. So full of life and laughter and colour. So unlike the monotony he had gotten frighteningly used to.

He goes to sleep on the sofa, surrounded by opened cans of beer.

That night, he had a dream. A dream of that night. The night that had gone so terribly wrong. The breaking point.

It had been a terrible day.

Nothing was going according to plan. He had ruined his favorite pants by pouring coffee on it, his boss had screamed at him for almost a full hour, the Dodgers had lost a match. Not to mention, Steve had made almost zero progress on his project. The project that could potentially change his, theirs, his family's life if he could just get it finished by time which he did not have much of.

When he parks his car in the driveway, he sees that almost all the lights were out in the house. No surprise there, it was well past midnight.

He makes his way quietly through the door and into the kitchen. On the table, there was a covered plate of food that he assumes is his dinner.

He opens the fridge, gets a can of beer and when he closes it, he sees Tony leaning against the kitchen wall, wrapped in a robe.

"Where were you?" he asks. 

The can hisses as it opens. Steve takes a swig. He had a searing headache and the argument he could feel was about to start would not help any. That's all they seem to do these days, he and Tony.

"You know where I was, Tony. I was at work."

"At work?" he says. "You were at work?"

Steve steps closer, reaches his arms out to comfort his husband. "Where else would I be, honey?"

Tony moves further away, holds a hand up to stop him from getting any more close. "Do you even know what today was?"

Steve wracks his brain. Anniversaries, no. Birthdays, still no. He had them marked on a calendar so that he would never forget.

Seeing Steve's reaction, Tony snorts. "You don't know," he says. "You don't even remember."

"Tony-"

"Just so you know, Peter, your four year old son, won the Maths Olympiad today. There was an award ceremony where all the parents' seats were filled except for yours. Jesus, Steve, the least you can do is be there for your own son."

"That's not fair. You know that I've been busy-"

"Busy?! Busy enough to forget you have a family? Peter was asking me why you didn't come and I had to lie and say you got caught up in fucking traffic because how do you explain to a four year old his own father forgot such an important day to him?"

Steve throws his hands up, some beer splashes into his suit. "I'm sorry, okay," he says. "I'm sorry I forgot about a stupid fucking Maths competition because I was too busy working so that we can pay the fucking bills."

"Can you even tell me how many days you've been home the past week, Steve?" he asks. "The past month? The children barely see you, I barely see you-"

"You know why that is, Tony," he says. "I've told you countless times how important this project is for my career." Why couldn't he see how important it was for him? For them?

"Your career ?" Tony says. "Is your career more important than us ?"

Steve rubs the bridge of his nose. "You know what, I don't need this right now," he says. "I've had a long day and I don't have time for this-"

"This?"

" You! I don't have time for you and your stupid fucking nagging because that's all you ever fucking do. From morning to night, nag, nag, nag, nag. I can't have a moment of peace in this house without you harping on about something." Steve slams the can onto the table. The sound reverberates throughout the room.

There are a few seconds of silence until, "If you hate me so much, why did you marry me?" Tony asks, almost murmurs.

"I wish I never did," he snaps. He doesn't realize what he's said until a few seconds later. The words repeat through his mind.

No, he thinks. No. What did I just say? I didn't mean it. I've got to- I've got to say sorr-

Steve sees Tony, the way hurt was written plainly on his face, the way he was shrinking in on himself and realises with a sudden clarity that there was no coming back from this.

In his anger, he had crossed a line that he never should've even gotten close to.

Steve wakes up gasping, too warm in his clothes, in his body. There were tears streaming down his face. He rubs at them furiously. There was no use crying. He was being stupid.

He drinks a gallon of water and then goes to the balcony. The night air is cool on his face, helping to calm him down a little. He lights up a cigarette and watches the ashes sprinkle down below as he takes long, deep drags.

Tony used to hate me smoking , he thinks distantly.

Chapter Text

The restaurant was fancy.

It was the kind of fancy Tony had been accustomed to before he'd given it all up for a life with Steve.

It was the kind of fancy he was uncomfortable in now, the men in their pressed suits and the women in their immaculate dresses mirages of a past life he had half forgotten.

It wasn't like he couldn't afford fancy. He could, if he wanted to. He earned enough. Not as much as he could have, not as much as Steve and a far cry away from Ty but, still, he earned enough. But he was a father of two children who preferred a Happy Meal over a twelve course one so he didn't really have much of a chance to go to places like these anymore.

He wonders what the people who he knew way back when he was just a trust-fund kid with millions in his name would think if they learned that Tony Stark was now more comfortable in jeans and a sweatshirt rather than customized suits.

Ty looked practically at home here. In his white suit that cost thousands, Rolex displayed proudly on a veiny wrist, even his shoes were more expensive than anything Tony had worn in the past several years.

(Tony thinks back to the time he had taken Steve to a restaurant much like this. Steve had been so nervous; fidgeting with his tie, wringing his hands. Tony could feel the stares the other customers were giving them when they noticed Steve's cheap, rented suit and his lack of proper table manners but he didn't care, he was just happy that Steve was there with him, by his side.)

Ty had come back from Long Island the day before, the bruises on Tony's hips a testament to that.

Tony did not tell him about what happened. About the kiss. Not because he is scared of how Ty will react ( he is, he is scared) but because he tells himself he doesn't need to. It didn't mean anything, the kiss. A mistake brought on by the heat of the moment and the wine that Tony had copious amounts of. It wasn't cheating. It wasn't.

It didn't mean anything, no matter how much Tony wanted it to.

"Why didn't you wear the shirt I gave you?" Ty asks, twirling a strand of noodles with his fork.

Because it's hideous, Tony thinks but doesn't say. It was a gaudy purple that Tony would never be caught dead wearing. Instead, he had opted for a black turtleneck, simple yet elegant, just like he preferred. "I'm saving it for a special occasion, darling," he lies, smile sultry.

"Who says today's not special?" There was a glint in Ty's that made it seem like he was in on a great secret Tony was not.

There was a stirring in the pit of his stomach. He did not like it.

Tony's halfway through his salad when a waiter approaches them. "Complimentary drinks, gentlemen," he says, two flutes of champagne on the tray he was carrying.

The waiter offers him one and Tony takes it gratefully; surely alcohol would make this night pass more quickly.

Tony's taking a sip when he feels something cold and hard against his mouth.

The ring was beautiful. Two sapphires bound in platinum sat astride what could only be described as the biggest diamond Tony had ever seen; it must have been at least two carats.

Ty stands and then kneels in front of Tony's chair, taking one of his hands into his larger ones. Tony could feel all the stares in the room gathering on them.

"Ty, what-" he starts to say. The light reflecting off the heavy diamond was enough to make him feel dizzy.

"What do you say, Tony?" he asks, smiling that cocksure smile of his. "Let me make you the happiest man in the entire world?"

Another night flashes before his eyes.

That night, there was no fancy restaurant, no diamond ring. Matter of fact, there wasn't a ring at all.

It was only them on that street corner, the moon as their witness. 

Steve had knelt right there, on the dirty concrete, and how could Tony ever say no to that? How could Tony ever say no to him?

Ty's grip tightening on his hand brings him back to reality.

He has to answer. Quickly. He can feel everyone's stares, wondering what was taking so long.

He has to answer.

The words don't want to come out.

They were never supposed to meet. That was the first mistake.

To say they were from different worlds would be an understatement. Tony was old money, posh and sophisticated while Steve was a scrapper from Brooklyn with nothing to his name.

Tony liked wine and reading, Steve liked beer and baseball. Tony loved the rain while Steve preferred the sun. 

Two worlds that were not even supposed to be in the same orbit.

The second mistake was Steve thinking he ever deserved him.

"Why me?" Steve had asked once.

The fingers threading through his hair stop as Tony looks at him, puzzled. "What do you mean?" he asks.

Steve adjusts his head on Tony's lap. "The guy at the cafe.. he was your ex, wasn't he? I was just thinking, I don't know," he says, starting to feel a little stupid. "I'm nothing like him, Tony."

When Tony introduced Steve to him, his first thought was, "Yes, this is someone someone like Tony Stark should be with."

He had a three piece suit on with an air of money around him; so different from Steve's hoodie with blotches of ketchup on it.

"You're right," Tony says, pretending to think deeply, "you're messy, loud, always picking fights wherever we go. You're nothing like anyone else I've ever dated."

Tony smiles after seeing Steve's petulant pout and starts threading his fingers through the blonde hair again as he says, "But you're also the only one who's ever made me want to wake up early just to see their face, the only one who brings me breakfast in bed when I'm feeling sick or just lazy, the only one who forces themselves to sit through hours long documentaries just because I have an obsession with them. You're the only one I've ever wanted, Steve Rogers."

Steve buries his head in Tony's lap, feeling his throat clog up.

What did he ever do to deserve this? How did he ever-

"What's up with you these days?"

Steve breaks out of his reverie to see Bucky standing right in front of him, a grimace etched on his face.

"Who let you in?" Steve asks, scratching his beard as he stifles a yawn. He hasn't been able to sleep well these past few days.

"What's up with you these days?" Bucky repeats, inspecting the empty beer bottle he picked up from the floor.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Can you honestly tell me the last time you've actually seen the sun?"

Steve sighs, rubs the bridge of his nose. "It's the start of a new year, Buck. My winter vacation. The few days in the entire year when I don't have to work my fucking ass off. I can 't be blamed for wanting to lie in for some days. I'm just getting some fucking rest, man."

"Did something happen with Stark?" Bucky asks, raising an eyebrow.

That question hits a nerve. Steve doesn't reply, just lies back down on the sofa he has been using as a bed for the past few days, weeks, whatever. He covers his ears with a pillow to block out his best friend's prattling.

Bucky snatches the cover right off of him and throws it to the floor. "Get up."

"Buck, I told-"

"I swear to God, Stevie, you will get up right now or I'll call Nat. You know you don't want me to call Nat."

Steve glares at his friend as he reluctantly gets up. "What do you want?"

"We're going out," Bucky says, grinning from ear to ear. 

Bucky takes him to a club.

Steve should have expected this, really, his friend always was a party animal even though he had settled down a little after getting married. He knows that Bucky takes him there to cheer him up but it only worsens his mood as he remembers that this was the club he had went to the first night he learned about Tiberius fucking Stone.

Steve's nursing a drink by the bar, Bucky had gone off somewhere after spotting some old friends, when a woman approached him.

"Hey, handsome," she says, taking a seat right beside him. She had curly red hair and a dimpled chin. She was pretty but Steve was in no mood for pretty so he just tells the bartender to pour him another drink after giving her a brief nod of acknowledgement.

"Don't you know that it's common courtesy to buy a drink for the pretty lady who is clearly very interested in you?" she asks, voice filled with good humour.

Steve smiles wearily. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude but it's just.. been a long day- weeks, really."

She chuckles as she leans forward. "You don't remember me, do you?"

Steve had computed that she looked vaguely familiar but his hazy brain was in no state for deductions so he just came up blank.

Seeing Steve's reaction, the pretty lady says, "I figured you wouldn't. I mean, I don't even think you were seeing me that night. You kept muttering 'Tony, Tony,' while inside me. I would've been offended if I wasn't looking for a quick night fuck."

Steve finally remembers. She was the nameless woman he had taken home that night to get his mind off of his ex-husband and his new boyfriend. He never thought they would meet again.

Steve takes a sip of his whiskey. "It's you."

She raises an eyebrow. "A little bit of a lacklustre reaction there but I'll let it pass. I'm Bernie Rosenthal, by the way. What's your name?"

"Steve," he feels the hand placed on his thigh and decides that if he is going to make a bad decision tonight, at least it's a pretty one, "Steve Rogers."

They barely make it to his bedroom, both trying to tear each other's clothes off the moment they step foot into the apartment.

She wounds her legs around him tightly and Steve carries her to the bed. After laying her down, he searches for a condom from the bedside table with one hand when he feels himself knock something else down in the dark.

It was the framed picture of the day they had all gone to DisneyLand. In it, they were all wearing Mickey Mouse ears, baby Peter cradled in Tony's arms and Harley on top of Steve's shoulders. Steve remembers how he had thrown up after riding the Incredicoaster and Tony had teased him about it for months on end.

"I can't do this," Steve mutters, putting the frame back in its rightful place, "I'm sorry, I just- I, I… can't do this."

Steve expects Bernie to leave, get mad at him for wasting her time, leading her on but she just sits delicately by Steve's side, staring at the picture.

"Is that 'Tony'?" she asks, eyes tracing the slightly aged picture.

Steve nods.

"I can see why you're so taken with him," she adds, smiling.

Steve chuckles. It's a watery sound with no heart behind it. "I don't know what he ever saw in me."

"It's the broad shoulders. Guys go crazy for broad shoulders," she quips and Steve's eyes grow softer.

"I fucked up real bad," he says.

"You're a human. You, me, us all. We were made for fucking up," she says, fluffing up a pillow. When she sees Steve's confused stare, she says, "You're not going to kick a beautiful woman out in the middle of the night, are you?"

She spends the night in Steve's bed but nothing more happens. In fact, Steve feels better having some sort of companionship after so long. Just feeling someone else lying beside him in the big bed was enough for him.

He hears the doorbell ring.

Tony looks at the clock and sees that it's only 9:30 so it's probably the package he had ordered a few days back. He turns the heat of the stove down and wipes his hands on his apron.

"Keep an eye on this for me, Harls," he says, looking at his oldest son. 

"I'll help too," Peter squeals, giggling, eliciting a smile from his father. Tony ruffles his hair as he walks by.

The bell rings again and Tony wonders what kind of delivery man can't even wait five fucking minutes.

"I'm coming," he says as he quickens his pace.

He opens the door, not knowing that the face he had thought he would never see again would be staring back at him from the doorway.

Howard Stark still looked the same as he did all those years ago though now with even more wrinkles around his eyes. His pinstriped suit and slicked back white hair speaks of authority and power. Tony feels like a little kid all over again; afraid of his dad, afraid of what he's about to do, about to say.

"No," is the first thing Tony says. "No." He starts closing the door but a polished leather shoe lodges itself between it.

"Anthony," Howard says, holding the door open. "I'm just here to talk."

"Too bad because I don't want to talk. Ever. Matter of fact, I never want to see you ever again." Tony starts pushing the door with more force but Howard doesn't budge an inch. His father was unnaturally strong for a man his age.

Something desperate enters Howard's eyes. There's a soft voice in Tony's head that tells him, urges him to comfort his father, invite him in and let him meet his grandchildren but Tony ignores the voice like Howard ignored him his entire life.

"It's your mother, Anthony," he says and Tony's heart stops. "She's sick."

Tony's arms go lax and the door stands ajar. Howard straightens the wrinkles on his suit.

"Mom?"

"Rogers must have moved up in the world for him to have afforded that."

Tony covers his ring finger with his other hand and sits up straighter. "It's no concern of yours what Steve can or cannot afford. What's wrong with mom?"

"No," Howard narrows his eyes, "no, you had a divorce, if I remember right. You're with that Stone boy now."

Tony sighs. "I'm not even going to ask you how you know that, Howard. I just want to know: what's wrong with mom?"

Howard shifts on the sofa. His expression mellows out and Tony feels another tug at his heart. "Son-"

"Don't call me that."

"You can't change history no matter how much you want to, Anthony. You are my son-"

"I stopped being your son the night you threw me and my husband out in the freezing cold during Christmas, Howard. You don't get to call me that." He was being childish, petulant. It was just a word, he knows that but he also knows that he would rather burn than hear his father call him that ever again.

Howard's mouth sets into a hard line and  he settles back into the sofa. "She's sick. Your mother. She's very sick."

"How sick?" Tony asks, dreading the answer.

Howard averts his eyes. "I think you already know the answer to that."

He does know. Tony puts a hand over his chest, feeling the way his heart was beating against it, almost as if it wanted to leap out.

"She doesn't have long," Howard says, voice hoarse. "The doctors predict a few more months at best. Maria… after you left," (Left. Like Tony had any say in the matter), "she didn't take it well. She has a soft heart, your mother." Howard's voice cracks in the midst and Tony remembers how Maria Carbonell-Stark was the only person in the world Howard Stark truly ever cared for. "She wants to see you. Before she…," Howard looks down, fiddles with his hands, "Well, she wants to see you. All of you. You, Rogers, your- your children. She wants to see all of you."

Tony nods, not arguing back for once. He thinks of his mother; her tanned skin, gentle smile, the way she used to call him 'bambino' and sing him back to sleep whenever he had a bad dream.

Why did bad things always happen to the best people?

"Are they…" Howard trails off. Tony follows his line of sight and sees his children, Harley and Peter, peeking at them from the kitchen, trying and failing horribly at hiding themselves.

Tony notices the hint of longing in his father's expression and makes a quick decision. "Harley, Pete," he calls, reaching out his arms, "Come over here".

Peter rushes over to him and crawls into his lap while Harley walks languorously to his side.

"This," he shuffles Peter so that he can see more clearly, "is your grandpa. Howar- Dad," he amends (he doesn't miss the way his father lights up as he does so), "this is Harley," he puts a hand on his son's dusty blonde head, "and this is Peter. Your grandchildren."

Howard's eyes are softer than he has ever seen them as he says, "Hello, there." The wrinkles around his eyes deepen as he breaks into a rare smile. "My name is Howard Stark and I am your grandfather."

Tony decides to go see his mother as soon as possible, which would be next Saturday. He tries to inform Steve but all his calls ring out and there are no replies to his texts.

As there are other things he wants to talk about, he decides to go personally to his ex-husband's apartment. He drops the kids with Rhodey and Pepper before doing so.

He hadn't seen Steve since Christmas so he's a little nervous about it but he stifles his anxieties down. His mother is much more important than every stupid mistake he's ever made.

He rings the doorbell and waits. After a few seconds, he hears the shuffling of feet behind the door and stands up straighter. He expects to be greeted by the usual dirty  blonde hair and clear blue eyes but, instead, what awaits him is red curly hair and forest green eyes.

A woman in a shirt too big for her answers the door.

Tony can feel the all too familiar green monster twisting in his belly.

"Hey!" she greets, a bright smile on her face. "What a surprise to see you here."

"Who is it?" Steve appears looking bed-raggled, a few strands of his hair sticking up. It was very clear that he had just gotten out of bed.

Tony's nails are digging into the soft of his palm.

"Tony," Steve seems momentarily shocked before regaining his composure. "What brings you here?"

"I needed to talk to you." He looks at the stranger pointedly. "Alone."

Thankfully, she gets the hint. "I was just leaving anyway." She goes back inside to get her bag. "Have fun, you crazy kids," she winks before leaving.

"What did you want to talk about?" Steve asks after closing the door behind them. His beard was shaggier than the last time Tony had seen it and there were more dark circles under his eyes.

"Are you free this Saturday?" Tony asks, not meeting his eyes, still stewing on the inside.

Steve rubs his eyes, sleep-addled. "Is this about the kids? I'm sorry I wasn't able to pick them up last week. I was a little-"

"Preoccupied? I can see that you were," Tony snaps. He was being ridiculous. He had no right being this jealous but he couldn't help it.

Steve stops rubbing his eyes. "What is this about exactly?"

Tony can't stop himself. "I'm happy you're moving on, Steve. Really. I just hope it won't interfere with your fatherly duties."

"What-"

"I mean, I guess it doesn't matter either way but-"

"Tony," Steve grasps his arm lightly, "What the hell are you talking about?"

He averts his eyes. "That girl. She was wearing your shirt."

Something clicks behind Steve's eyes. "Are you talking about Bernie? We're not- I mean- we're just friends Tony. That's it."

He's not convinced but he decides to let it go. "Whatever," he murmurs, feeling more childish than ever.

Steve lets him go. Tony rubs the place where he was holding him, still feeling the tingling sensation.

"Howard visited me," Tony says. Steve's mouth sets into a hard line.

"Oh."

"She's.. My mom, Steve. She's very sick."

Steve's eyes soften. "I'm sorry to hear that."

He takes a deep breath. "She doesn't have very long. She wants to meet the children. And you too. I was thinking we could pay her a visit next Saturday."

"Okay."

He agrees more easily than Tony thought. He assumed there would be some more hesitation on Steve's part seeing that their last visit to Stark Manor was so disastrous.

Steve notices his confusion. "It's your mother, Tony. I understand."

This simple sentiment makes heat pool in Tony's heart. Tears start stinging the back of his eyes but he blinks them back down.

"Do you still have your wedding band?" Tony asks after clearing his throat.

"I do," Steve says slowly, "Why?"

"Mom doesn't know about our divorce. I was thinking that.. just for a day… I don't want to give her any more reasons to be shocked," Tony says vaguely, hoping that Steve gets it.

He does. "I understand."

The next minute is filled with awkward silence. "That's all I wanted to say," Tony starts, "So I'm just gonna," he points at the door.

Steve nods.

Tony's got one foot out the door when, "Tony."

He turns around and looks into those clear blue eyes of his ex-husband. He used to look into those same eyes every morning when he woke up and every night before going to bed once. ( He wishes he could have continued doing so his entire life .)

"That ring suits you," Steve says, smiling.

That's not what I want you to say, a voice at the back of Tony's mind whispers. Tell me to leave him. Tell me that you can't bear the thought of me marrying someone else.

He doesn't voice his thoughts though, only says, "Thank you," a polite, distant smile on his face.