Untrue

Steve comes running up behind Sam, who’s clearly trying not to fall over dead from over exertion like he does every time they do this. “You’re slacking,” Steve tells him, laughing as Sam’s eyes all but bug out of his head.

“Slacking?” he asks, utter disbelief in his tone.

“Just saying, I’ve passed you like seven times,” he points out. He picks up speed a little, laughing more as Sam tries to keep up miserably.

“This is not a fair competition! You got injected with steroids on crack, I’m just a man!” Sam huffs out, trying to keep up nonetheless. “If you were still skinny I’d have you beat,” he adds.

Steve throws his head back and laughs, “Sam, a damn turtle could win a race against me skinny. That’s not an accomplishment,” he says and slows down some for Sam’s benefit given that the poor guy looks like he’s about to keel over. Props to Sam for his stubbornness. Sam slows too, obviously happy for the break.

“Yeah okay, time out on account of I think I might be dying,” he says, jogging over to a patch of grass and throwing himself on it haphazardly. Steve walks over even though he’s not out of breath or exerting himself any really. Running isn’t something that requires a lot of energy out of him but he likes the activity. And, if he’s honest, the time away from Tony. These days its hard to remember why they even got together to begin with, especially given that they didn’t really get along in the start. Maybe he should have taken that as a warning instead of a sign that they’d moved past their initial animosity.

“I’m sure you’re not dying,” Steve tells Sam, smiling at him as he sits down beside him.

Sam continues to breathe heavily for a few minutes and Steve lets him catch his breath. He looks ridiculous, spread out across the ground in work out gear and sweating but Steve thinks it has its own brand of appeal. He doesn’t do it on purpose, check Sam out, and he has no idea when that even started being a thing. But Sam is soft, and funny, and unlike Tony not every fucking thing turns into an argument over nothing. Even when he has argued with Sam it’s always good natured. And Sam takes an interest in his life, asks about how he’s doing. On the best of days Tony doesn’t even manage to drag his ass out of his lab long enough to care about anything Steve does. And even if he has appeared for longer than it takes to get a cup of coffee and disappear again he either has no interest in the things that interest Steve, or it’s to do something with Peter.

“You look like you’re thinking pretty hard over there,” Sam says, apparently having caught his breath in the time it took Steve to contemplate his many marriage issues.

He sighs, “well, these days I always have something on my mind.” Be it some thing he hadn’t caught up on, usually some missing piece of history that explains why people act the way they do, some weird new thing that only Peter’s generation seems to know anything about, Avengers business, or his mess of a personal life there’s always something.

“Tony,” Sam says, guessing correctly like he usually does.

“Yeah,” he confirms.

Sam props himself up on his elbow, giving Steve a lazy look. “Same issues continued?” he asks and Steve nods. “You know, I’ve kind of heard it all by now but what exactly is it that’s the problem between you two? Because there must be something that makes you two bicker all the damn time, some trait or set of actions or something that sets the two of you off.”

Steve laughs harshly, “yeah, his entire personality. What the hell do I do with that, tell him to get a personality transplant?” he asks, shaking his head.

Sam doesn’t look impressed with the answer. “Don’t give me that. I’ve been dealing with people long enough to know that relationship problems are usually the result of a disconnect somewhere along the line that causes everything else to fall apart like a domino effect. What’s your disconnect?” he asks.

At least he doesn’t act like an asshole when Steve doesn’t immediately understand what he means like Tony does. He sighs, “I told you- pretty much everything. We don’t have the same parenting style, I’m positive he loves his damn machines more than me, we have nothing in common, and at this point I think he’s more friendly with Clint than me and I happen to know he likes Clint the least out of all of us.” He finds Clint in theory more interesting than Clint in practice, his words. Which Steve found funny at the time even if he’d scolded Tony for being mean but now its just irksome.

“Mhm. But you knew all that before marrying the guy, I’m sure,” Sam says. “So what happened after?”

Steve considers that a moment because that’s a good point. It’s not like his and Tony’s differences weren’t obvious to begin with, they didn’t start out liking each other. “I don’t know,” he says honestly. “It just feels like whatever progress was made in our relationship isn’t there anymore. At this point I don’t even think he’s trying.” Doesn’t feel like he is anyway, minus a few snatches of moments where it feels like he offers a throwaway token of appreciation that’s gone as fast as it comes and there’s no pattern to it. It’s all just whatever Tony feels like tossing his way at his convenience.

“Are you?” Sam asks. “Trying, I mean. If he isn’t putting in any effort in it might be because he thinks you aren’t.”

He’d like to get defensive but Sam isn’t entirely wrong so he holds back his ego however much he wants to point out Tony started this entire mess. He’s the one who sequestered himself away in the lab most of the time and acted like his fancy gadgets were a replacement for an actual relationship. “No sense in putting effort into something I don’t see as salvageable,” he says. Harsh, but true.

“But you’re mad he doesn’t put in any effort? If he feels the same way you do that’s a bit hypocritical of you. Wild suggestion here, but maybe talk to the guy,” Sam tells him. “Guaranteed to help solve your problems.”

Snorting is absolutely not the appropriate response but he can’t help it. “Uh, no. Talking with Tony without it turning into a knock down drag out argument is like asking for a kitten to give birth to a rhino. Not happening.” They can’t even have a simple conversation with small talk anymore without it resulting in them yelling over who drank the coffee last or some other stupid thing that shouldn’t matter.

Sam throws himself back on the ground. “Why exactly is it that you stay with him if you hate this damn marriage so much? Because there is this nifty little thing called a divorce and it sounds like you might need one,” Sam points out.

Yeah, like that’s not a whole other set of issues. “And risk screwing up Avengers business? Probably not smart.” Not, Steve thinks, when things attack New York every other week. He needs Tony as much as he doesn’t want to admit it. Not only does Tony fund most everything for the team, but he’s the one who designs all their stuff, and he’s integral to how things run in the field. Mess that up and that could cost lives and Steve’s not willing to risk that.

Sam considers him and Steve knows he’s holding something back but he doesn’t say whatever is on his mind. “Something tells me that might already be messed up,” he says instead.

*

Tony might find lingering in his room with Bucky in his bed all kinds of stupid if Steve still spent any time in here but he doesn’t so he figures he’s probably safe from prying eyes. And its nice, sitting curled up under Bucky’s arm watching Star Wars because some heathen hasn’t caught him up on the franchise but exposed him to Star Trek. Probably Natasha because she’s the worst. Bucky traces his fingertips over his arm and the soft bit of contact is a pleasant reminder of his affections.

“Don’t think sci-fi is my thing,” he says and Tony turns to give him what must be a rather offended look because Bucky laughs. “I take it you’re a fan?”

“A fan?” he asks, incredulous. “Star Wars is iconic, Barnes. This is my childhood.”

Bucky turns to give the TV a pitying look. “Well, Steve did say your childhood wasn’t pleasant. Guess this is what he meant.”

Tony doesn’t mean to sputter but he does. “Oh excuse you Star Wars is a good childhood memory, its Howard that I hated!”

“Why is that? Not that I think you need a reason exactly, but you do seem to hate the guy an unusual amount,” Bucky says. He doesn’t look judgmental, or skeptical. Just a little curious and Tony appreciates that because no one ever seems to just ask why he hates Howard.

He sighs, “very long set of stories short he seemed to like me better as a punching bag than a kid. Then he had the balls to leave me some fucking video talking about how I was his greatest creation,” he says, shaking his head in a mix of anger and annoyance.

“You’re a person, not a thing. You aren’t a creation to be proud of,” Bucky says, a little anger creeping into his tone and that’s interesting.

But that’s not what Tony chooses to focus on at the moment. “Thank you,” he says, surprised by the gratitude in his voice. Bucky seems to be too and he frowns.

“For what?”

Tony laughs but it comes out harsh. “Everyone in my life has either told me to be grateful to Howard or acted like I was him. People don’t let me exist outside of who he is,” he murmurs.

“To be clear, he abused you,” Bucky says and Tony nods, perhaps unnecessarily. “And people knew about it, I assume?” he asks more than states. Tony nods again. “And people acted like you should be grateful to that?”

“He did a lot for the world,” Tony says in place of a real explanation.

“The guy helped make a bomb, you’ve saved the world on multiple occasions. From what I understand you made the company a lot more successful, and you managed to achieve world peace that one time. How the hell is it that you’d be compared to Howard like you don’t measure up when his greatest accomplishment was being on a research team?” he asks, shaking his head.

Tony smiles, settling into Bucky’s side, curling his fingers around Bucky’s. “People haven’t compared us in a long time, so maybe the public finally agrees with you,” he murmurs. Only took most of his life to get to this point, which he resents, but he managed to get here nonetheless. He’ll take it.

“That’s probably the best revenge you could have gotten, you know,” he says and Tony raises an eyebrow at him. “Being so relevant that you made him a footnote in your story, someone who will be remembered as your father rather than being remembered for his own research. I wish I could do that, but HYDRA will always overshadow who I am,” he says bitterly.

It’s a sad admission. A painful one. Tony’s grip tightens his grip on Bucky’s hand, happy that Bucky seems to accept the comfort as his fingers tighten around Tony’s too. “You never know. I mean, for all we know you could have killed JFK and people would be pretty excited to know about that. Conspiracy theories have been going around pretty much since it happened.”

Bucky frowns, “I did kill JFK and I still did it because of HYDRA so that doesn’t really work,” he says and Tony whips around.

“You what? That wasn’t even one of the theories!”