Liquid Incidents
The thumping bass of the music greeted Tony and Steve as they entered the lively party. They exchanged a glance, silently agreeing to stick together in the chaos. It didn't take long to spot Natasha, her vibrant red hair standing out in the crowd.
"Nat!" Tony called out, a relieved smile spreading across his face as she turned towards them.
"Hey, you made it!" she exclaimed, pulling them both into a quick hug. "I've been saving a drink for each of you."
As they chatted with Natasha, Tony couldn't help but notice the energy of the party swirling around them. He caught glimpses of familiar faces and exchanged polite nods. Then Natasha leaned in to speak to Steve.
"Hey, you-know-who has been looking for you," she said with a knowing smile.
Steve nodded, excusing himself from the conversation. As he disappeared into the crowd, Natasha turned back to Tony, handing him another drink.
Tony's curiosity piqued, he leaned forward, fixing Natasha with an inquisitive gaze. "You-know-who?" he repeated, the question laced with intrigue. Natasha's laughter danced in response, a teasing glint in her eye, as she playfully shook her head. "Sorry, Stark, my intel doesn't come cheap."
They clinked glasses before taking a sip, the cool liquid offering a welcome respite from the heat of the party.
Tony considered pushing further, but a sly grin from Natasha made him reconsider. Instead, he settled back, taking another sip of his drink, content to let the mystery linger for the moment.
The pulsating music throbbed through the air as Tony lost himself in the rhythm of the party, laughing and dancing alongside Natasha. Everything seemed to blur together in a whirlwind of lights and music.
Then, a presence, strong and enticing, entered his sphere. It was a tall and handsome alpha, his scent familiar and alluring.
He struck up a conversation with Tony, his charm not lost on the omega.
They shared laughs and exchanged playful banter, drawing Tony further into the interaction.
After a while, the alpha suggested, "Let's head outside, get some fresh air."
Tony agreed, assuming they were merely looking for a quiet corner to continue their conversation.
When the suggestion to step outside came, Tony agreed, expecting a moment of quiet away from the crowded party. The backyard greeted them with its lively atmosphere, the pool shimmering invitingly in the night. However, something felt off, a prickle of unease settling at the back of Tony's mind.
The alpha turned to him, a sly smile on his lips. "You know, the pool's where the real fun's at."
Tony's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Oh, uh... I didn't bring swim trunks."
The alpha's grin widened, his tone laced with suggestive undertones. "Who said anything about swimming?"
The implication hit Tony like a ton of bricks. His heart raced, his mind scrambling for an excuse. Before he could gather his thoughts, they were both tumbling into the pool, the cool water a shock against his skin.
In the water, the alpha made a move, leaning in for a kiss.
And Tony, without much thought, gave him a slap that began to draw attention to them.
"Why the fuck would you do that?"
"Oh, come on, Tony, don't act modest now."
He felt a chill down his spine, suddenly freezing.
"Where do you know me from?"
"Well, you're quite the celebrity… and Hammer showed me some things too... You're such a freak."
The mention of that name was enough to understand that his time to return home had come a long time ago, or that perhaps he should never have left in the first place.
Tony quickly pulled away, his irritation mounting. He scrambled out of the pool, wet clothes clinging uncomfortably to his skin.As Tony emerged from the pool, his breaths came quick and shallow. He scanned the area, heart pounding in his chest. His skin prickled with unease, senses on high alert. Just as his instincts had warned, the alpha followed closely behind him, his presence suffocating.
The alpha's voice cut through the tension, dripping with a false sweetness. "Come on, I'm even wearing that perfume you like. Hammer told me it was your favorite." His grip on Tony's arm was firm, bordering on possessive.
Tony's eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and fear. He couldn't believe the audacity, the blatant disregard for his boundaries. Without thinking, he let his fist fly, connecting solidly with the alpha's nose. There was a sickening crunch, and the alpha stumbled back, clutching his face.
Tony wasted no time, turning on his heel and striding away, his heart still pounding, but now with a surge of adrenaline. He needed to find Natasha, to regain a sense of control and security. The party around him blurred, the sounds and lights a chaotic whirlwind, but he pushed through until he spotted Natasha's familiar figure in the crowd. Relief washed over him, a lifeline in the midst of the storm.
The ambience was now incredibly uncomfortable as he felt everyone's eyes crept through him as he walked, nothing felt in its place and he doubted that after that moment anything would be again. If he had chosen to come to a smaller city and move away from his house, it was precisely so he wouldn't have to hear that name again, at least for a long time.
Finally he found the red hair among the crowd, and completely ignored the surprised face that Natasha made when she saw him.
☆☆☆
As Steve navigated through the lively crowd, the pulsing beat of music resonated through him. He hadn't seen his ex all semester, and her absence had left a lingering question mark in his mind, he wasn't completely sure if it was just coincidence or if she was actually trying to avoid him. The semester had been a whirlwind of activity, and he hadn't heard anything from her since she quit the job before the break.
Finally spotting her, he approached with a warm smile, eager to reconnect. However, her reception was far from what he expected. The glare she shot his way was laden with accusation. "I didn't think you'd really come looking for me after ignoring me all semester," she snapped.
Steve's brows furrowed in confusion. Ignoring her? That was certainly not his intention. "I don't know what you're talking about. I haven't heard from you since you resigned," he countered, trying to make sense of the situation.
Her eyes narrowed further, a mix of anger and resentment in her gaze. "Maybe you've just been too distracted with your new acquisition."
Steve questioned her with his face, not fully understanding what she meant.
He might have gotten more shots than he should have on the way to finding her, because nothing definitely seemed to make sense at that moment.
"Tony Stark? Like, really Steve?" she questioned.
"Ohhh, well he's my neighbor, we don't have anything, I actually kind of hate him." He was still struggling to understand the connection.
With a sudden, forceful motion, she upended her drink, drenching Steve in a cold, sticky cascade. Shocked, he blinked, the icy liquid trickling down his shirt. "That's for ghosting me," she spat, before turning on her heel and disappearing into the crowd.
Suddenly, all eyes seemed to be on Steve, the wetness seeping through his clothes. He felt a rising wave of embarrassment and discomfort. This wasn't how he had imagined the night going. All he wanted now was to retreat, to escape the prying eyes and awkward situation.
He quickly made his way back to Natasha, who looked at him with a mix of concern and displeasure. And besides her, Tony Stark, who could be easily confused with an angry wet cat at the moment.
Steve and Tony stood there, a strange mix of wet and annoyed, their eyes locking in a moment that held more than either of them cared to admit. The tension in the air was palpable. Both were lowkey worried about each other, but they masked it with a forced smile and feigned nonchalance.
Natasha's voice cut through the awkward silence, her no-nonsense tone breaking the spell. "Okay, time for you two to go home," she declared, her gaze moving between them with a mixture of exasperation and concern.
Without a word, they turned in unison, their steps oddly synchronized. As they made their way to the exit, Tony deftly snagged a bottle from the counter, cradling it in his good hand. The other was still smarting from the impact of his punch.
Once outside, they walked side by side, the cool night air washing over them. There was a strange sense of fun in their shared misfortune.
The cab ride was cloaked in an uneasy silence. They wordlessly passed the bottle between them. The driver's attempts at conversation went largely ignored, lost in the heavy atmosphere that enveloped them.
For Tony, the scent of the cab was a muddled blend, a cacophony of urban odors that he struggled to decipher. Yet, amidst the sensory confusion, Steve's presence was unmistakable. The familiar notes of Bergamot, usually warm and inviting, now carried an undercurrent of something more complex. It was a scent tinged with an acidic edge, a delicate dance between anger and sorrow that Tony couldn't quite put into words.
☆☆☆
Tony ascended the steps leading to the building's entrance, but he noticed Steve lingering by the cab. With a questioning look, Tony asked, "Aren't you coming?"
Steve hesitated momentarily before responding, "No, I want to smoke, and we're still on a truce."
"It's not a good idea to mix things, plus you'll get sick."
"It'll only be a minute..." Steve insisted.
Tony remained silent, watching him as he sat on the steps of the building and prepared to enroll.
"We can smoke in my apartment," Tony suggested.
Steve raised an eyebrow in genuine surprise. "Oh? I don't need your pity right now, Stark."
Tony's response was firm, "It's not about pity. I had a rough night too. Unlike you, I don't conjure weed out of thin air. So, I'm offering you a place to finish this bottle, smoke, and tell me what happened. I know Natasha won't spill all the details."
Their gazes locked, a silent understanding passing between them. After a moment, Steve nodded in agreement.
The journey through the hallway felt oddly triumphant, their strides purposeful and their heads held high. They were wet, pissed, and nursing their respective wounds, but there was a certain defiance in their steps. They were united, if only by circumstance, and in that moment, it felt like enough.
Despite the initial offer of Tony’s apartment, after a moment they both took to changing their clothes, drying off a little, and partially collecting their pride, they decided it was better to hang out at Steve's.
As Tony entered the apartment, he couldn't help but be struck by the vibrant energy that seemed to pulse through every corner. The walls adorned with art, a riot of colors and shapes, spoke of a life lived with a creative spirit. Lush greenery cascaded from shelves and windowsills, infusing the air with a refreshing vitality. It was a stark contrast to his own space, which, while functional, lacked the personal touches that made a place feel like a true sanctuary.
He settled in, the soft glow of lamps casting a warm hue across the room.
A comfortable silence descended, punctuated only by the occasional burst of laughter as they shared party anecdotes. Tony couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Steve's ex-girlfriend story than met the eye, but he decided not to pry. Some chapters of one's life were best left closed.
Likewise, he didn't dare to mention his ex when he was telling Steve what happened at the pool, he really wanted to pretend Hammer didn't exist for the rest of his life.
And he was distracted enough by having the blonde extremely close to him, while he healed his knuckles and applied ice to his hand.
He hadn't bothered to detail Steve so closely before, but a warm, precise touch with hands that looked like they were painted by some renaissance artist was all he needed to care for his wounds.
By the same token, he hadn't refused to take the joint directly from Steve's fingers to his lips when he offered it. Usually he couldn't allow himself to be so docile, but Steve had practically ordered him to rest and obeying him seemed to scratch the itch that seeing Steve in a more intimate face caused him.
The weight of the night settled on Tony, his eyelids growing heavier with each passing minute. Eventually, he succumbed to the siren call of sleep, finding a makeshift bed on Steve's couch.
Steve watched over him for a moment, a mixture of emotions swirling within him. It was a strange thing, seeing Tony like this, vulnerable and unguarded. The lines of tension that usually etched his features seemed to soften in slumber. With a sigh, Steve fetched a blanket and carefully tucked it around Tony, making sure he was comfortable.
Retreating to his own room, Steve couldn't help but reflect on the odd turn of events. Somehow, the evening had taken an unexpected but not unwelcome detour. The presence of another person in his space, particularly someone as enigmatic as Tony, brought an unexpected sense of warmth. It was as if, for a brief moment, the boundaries between them had softened.
As he settled into his own bed, Steve couldn't help but wonder about the complex dance they were engaged in. It was a fragile bridge between two individuals who had once been firmly rooted on opposite sides. And yet, in that moment, as he closed his eyes and let the events of the evening wash over him, Steve couldn't deny that something fundamental had shifted.
And when Tony returned to his apartment the next morning, he did some mental review, remembering that he was definitely going to find the idiot at the pool and get back at him somehow, that he had to tell Nat that the lipstick she was wearing looked good and lastly, that within their truce, Steve Rogers was not as unpleasant as he seemed.