Enjoy the Show, Rogers

Steve Rogers has never felt so ashamed in his entire life. His mind was in utter chaos, his limbs heavy from the part paralysis he’s just overcame and if that wasn’t enough, his eyes went down to his lap and a ragged breath cut any swearing he could think of. 
Another wave of embarrassment ran through his body.
“Oh, my god… What have I done?”

How will he ever look into Tony’s eyes again? After how he had… frozen there. Completely overpowered by the image in front of his eyes. Tony and… that man. Strange – Tony called him in the beginning. 
Steve wasn’t about to lie to himself. He knew that Tony was bringing someone home from time to time these past months – that someone was visiting him at his own floor or in his workshop for quite awhile. But Steve has never seen anyone arriving or leaving the tower. Now he knew why.

“Oh, no…”
He shoved both of his hands into his hair, pulling in a way he hoped would prevent him from any more visits down the memory line of what he has just witnessed. He was early. It was no one’s fault. As far that was true. But then he remembered Tony’s eyes screaming at him to go to hell and how his feet refused to carry out the task. He just stood there, shocked and awestruck, watching his teammate getting the cock of another man up his ass while both of them clearly enjoyed it very much. 
Steve could recall Tony’s face, his eyes closing each time when the man went deep into him, how his lips opened into taking a ragged breath. And the man was pounding into him like his life depended on this single action. Gripping Tony’s hands high above his head and then squeezing his neck in a very dangerous way, on which Steve’s body finally reacted. Only to be put on cold by Tony’s angry stare promising hell on Earth if he tried to stop it.

And hell, he wanted to do that. He wanted to stop it. If not for Tony’s safety, then for his own selfish reasons. 
Oh, god, the way that man spoke to Tony! The names he called him. Some sane part of Steve knew it was part of their play, but then there was this image he had of Tony Stark – of Iron man. A sort of person who didn’t take anything from anyone. Just like he’s shown Steve so many times. But here he was – the same man – leaving another person manhandling him, hurting him even, reacting to this Strange’s voice and his words in a way which made Steve feel crazy in his own head. He never thought Tony could act this submissive and liked it.

But… it somehow made sense. That he wanted to have someone else in control for once. 
A one thought stung more than others. It was repeating in Steve’s head over and over again, the only thing except of shame preventing him from touching and relieving himself right now and here. 

It could have been him. 
Jesus, he could have been at that man’s place, thrusting into Tony while he would do those amazing sounds of pleasure in return.

But that was just a fantasy now. Tony clearly hated him. Hated him for everything Steve has done wrong. 

With that in mind, he could hardly think of anything else than a cold shower so his erection would die out as soon as it sprung to life – vanishing together with his sinful thoughts and inappropriate behavior. His head was a raw piece of hot steel. He didn’t try to lie to himself that he could get any sleep like that. That left him only with few options of what to do so he wouldn’t have to think on any part of today’s evening.

In the end he spent the night wandering absent-mindedly around the tower and then working himself to the bone in the gym. That was the routine he knew and which was familiar. The morning came after what felt like a week of horrible torment. And with first sun’s beams, Natasha and Clint returned and walked out of the lift, both of them in high spirits despite the early hour, eyeing him suspiciously as they were approaching the kitchen and the place where he was sitting with a glass of water in front of him.

“You didn’t sleep,” Natasha started immediately, her lips slightly pursed together in a disagreeing grimace.
“No.” Steve shook his head. He knew better than to lie to a spy. 

Clint let his bag fall to the ground next to the kitchen counter, immediately aiming for a fridge. 
“Why the long face, cap?” he asked while searching in there and taking stuff out with both hands. “You fought with Stark again?”

I hope it would be that simple.
“No. We… met briefly, but we didn’t talk.”
Natasha kept watching him like she wanted to crack him up, but wasn’t sure what this was about. 
“Did you met his… lover then?”

Steve was glad he wasn ‘t drinking right at that moment, otherwise he would probably choke on it.
“You know about… him?”
Now it was Clint’s time to express some shock, when a single high-pitched “what” came out of his mouth through some cracker he’d stuffed there before.
“Stark is dating some man?”
He eyed Natasha like he expected to know about this, but of course the other spy didn’t feel intimidated be that look in the slightest.

“I wouldn’t call it dating,” Natasha elaborated slowly after a moment, “they are sleeping together, helping each other from time to time. Sometimes they hang out together.”
Steve didn’t want to know how Natasha knew this. Was her task to know everything about everyone here? Or just Tony because he was such an irreplaceable asset to SHIELD? Whatever the reason was, he found it highly disturbing she had such intimate information. More when Tony was involved. More when Steve himself was involved.

“So who is that guy?” 
Steve was glad that Clint asked what he himself couldn’t.

Natasha stole a piece of ham from Clint’s plate like it wasn’t really a big deal that she knew even that fact.
“A former surgeon.” Far better position than a mere soldier then. “His name is doctor Stephen Strange. Some years ago he started to study mystic arts after a career-ending car accident.”
“So now he is what? A wizard?” Clint spoke out with full mouth.
“Something like that, but I don’t recommend to call him that in his face.”

“You seem to know a lot about him.” Steve’s voice was tense, maybe slightly accusing. Natasha looked at him and nodded.
“I do. SHIELD is interested in him.” She gazed back at Clint, like she was giving him some kind of a warning. “He is currently occupying the highest post in the hierarchy of the mystic arts circles. He is very powerful. From my limited sources, he can even manipulate time and have done that few times already when facing a threat to the world’s safety.”

“So why don’t we know about him?” Steve was getting more and more irritated because at least as a leader of the team, he should have known about such an important individual.
“We usually don’t interact,” Natasha offered, but it wasn’t truly an answer and she knew that. 

“Stark is aiming high…” Clint smirked. Thank god Natasha reacted sooner than Steve could.
“Actually, if you think that he is keeping him for his status, I’m not really sure. Tony doesn’t trust magic easily. I doubt that he has any use for it in his projects and he doesn’t care what SHIELD wants. And from what I saw, Strange is really something, he takes no shit from Stark… quite the opposite. They fight a lot. Still Tony hasn’t quit their relationship yet.”

Clint’s forehead wrinkled in thought. 
“What do you mean by that you ‘saw’ something?”

Natasha stole another piece of vegetable and took a bite before she looked at Clint and then at Steve like she was addressing her words mainly to him.
“I saw him once or twice on the mission when Tony was involved – whether he was injured or needed extra help – Strange was there, usually keeping a low profile, working quickly and from the distance. And there was this last time when I called him…”
“You called him?!” Clint voiced Steve’s own surprise and shock. 
“What happened?” 

Steve felt bad to push it like this, after all it was all Tony’s privacy, but if Natasha knew and she withheld more information from him, that was just unacceptable.
“I don’t think it’s important now.”
“Nat, you started it, you finish it.” He used all the authority he could manage between the lines of that one sentence.

The woman contemplated in silence for a moment, but then she turned on both of them shaking her head and slowly standing up.
“If you want to know, ask Friday, it’s not my place to tell.”

Maybe if Steve wasn’t so cracked up already, he would let it go and ask Tony instead. But that wouldn’t work now. He and Clint exchanged the looks and the next second he found himself calling out to the AI, feeling even more bitter for doing so.

“Friday can you show us what happened? Did Tony forbid you to show us?”
The AI’s voice sounded distant and unhappy with them.
“Boss didn’t forbid it because he most likely had forgotten the record even exist.”
That should have hit a string. It wasn’t right to pry. Still…
“Show us then,” Clint asked, straightening on his chair as the counter went alive with a screen under their hands.

The video footage showed them the same room, common floor, but clearly during a night. It wasn’t hard to notice Tony - sitting on the kitchen counter, almost at the same place as Steve found him yesterday. Steve swallowed hard before noticing almost empty bottle between Tony’s fingers. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sight. What was new and unexpected was that Natasha was there as well, standing at one spot and talking to Tony softly. 

“Please, stop drinking, Tony. I called him. He’s on his way…”
“Who?” Tony’s voice was too loud for him being in any relatively good state of drunk. It was far beyond the limit as it seemed, and Steve literally jerked back on the broken sound. 
“Why? Who?”
“Stephen. I called Stephen.”

Suddenly Tony flinched like someone had hit him.
“How… d-do you know?”

Natasha didn’t move in a slightest, her face turned away from the camera and faced Tony’s shuddering form.
“It doesn’t matter now. Can you tell me how much you took? And what it was?”
Tony’s expression was puzzled like he had no idea what the woman in front of him was talking about. And then Steve’s eyes noticed the small unlabeled plastic bottle on the ground and few pills scattered around under Tony’s feet. His lungs suddenly had a problem to take in some air when confronted with the unmistakable evidence of Tony’s state – far worse than he had anticipated. 

Why didn’t he know about this? And what had Tony done to himself?

“I d-don’t… What?” Tony looked down after Natasha had pointedly gazed in the way of the pills, but Tony seemed even more confused when he noticed the medication himself.
“I… didn’t… Fuck…” 

It was horrible to see the raising panic on Tony’s face. Whatever he had done – whatever he had taken, he clearly didn’t remember, didn’t understand what was happening around him.

Steve clutched the edge of the table until his knuckles were white, the gesture accompanied by Clint’s silent swearing. They both saw Natasha completely lost for action for the first time since Steve has known her. And just in that moment of weakness and hesitation, an orange sparkling circle appeared on the other side of the room and the man – Strange – hurried in the room looking frantically around until his eyes settled on Tony’s face.

“What the hell are you doing, Stark?”
His tone was harsh and cold, his movements quick and steady when he marched to the counter and ripped the bottle out of Tony’s numb fingers, tossing it dismissively to the sink. His gaze then turned on the spot on the floor that made Steve feel nauseous and the man’s shaking hands gripped Tony’s arms and shook him hard.

“Are you with me? Come on, answer me, Tony. What are those pills?”
There was unmistakable worry and tension in his voice. Steve could hear it now more than before.
“S-Sleeping… pills… I didn’t want to… God, Stephen, please, I didn’t…”
“Shh- that’s okay. You’re fine.” The sorcerer eased his death grip on Tony’s body, taking his hand up and placing it over Tony’s cheek to force the engineer’s attention entirely on himself.
“How many?”
Tony seemed to lean in the touch for a second, breathing out much steadier puff of air before he gave his half-coherent answer.
“I- I don’t know, Stephen. I don’t… I can’t r-remember…”
“Okay, good,” the sorcerer didn’t let him fall into panic again, instead he helped Tony down, letting him lean on him what seemed to be with almost his full weight and slowly they made their way to the portal.

“Where are you taking him?” Natasha’s voice was small and uneasy. Steve almost forgot she was there with them.
“He’s going with me to the Sanctum. I will fix him.” The man stopped for a second turning his head to where Natasha stood. 
“That bastard makes him act this way one more time and he has a fucking problem. You can tell him that.”

Something in Steve’s chest was just squeezed in the tight fist and he found himself trembling as the video abruptly finished. 

That bastard…
It was him. It had to be him. He made Tony act like that and now he didn’t even dare to ask Friday for the date of the video.

Was it after some of their big fights over Avengers business? Was it any of those days when Steve’s nerves snapped and he screamed some nasty things into Tony’s face? Was it… after any of those times when Steve met him in the compound but walked away without any word because… hell, they had kissed and made out and Steve was a damn coward to act like a man about it? He didn’t even noticed Clint was speaking to him, asking questions, no, he was far deep buried in his own biting thoughts to notice anything else than a memory of Tony drinking his sorrow away. 

And then – if that alone wasn’t enough - a terrible raw scream echoed through the compound and both their heads turned towards the only possible source. Bedrooms.