Stony one-shots??

It was like walking into a wall. That was how hard the stench of alcohol hit Steve when he stepped into Tony’s workshop. His nose wrinkled as he ventured deeper, picking his way through an unhealthy amount of empty bottles on the floor. He could hear a voice from the back of the shop, though he couldn’t tell if it was Tony’s.

“Tony?”

When there was no response, Steve’s brow furrowed. Spotting what Steve had previously thought was a supply closet, he stepped towards it in hopes his boyfriend was in there, as he was nowhere else in sight. Poking his head inside, he realized that not only was Tony inside, but it was not a supply closet. Rather, it was a storage closet, the walls lined in boxes labeled “Howard S” and “Maria S” and “MIT” and simply “Old Things,” all written in Tony’s neat, tall writing. Steve’s attention snapped back to Tony, who was drinking scotch straight from the bottle in front of a projector, oblivious to Steve’s presence. The projector was running a film of a man standing in front of a model city. With a jolt, the Captain recognized the man as Howard, Tony’s father. 

“Tony.”

At the sound of Howard’s voice, Tony glared at the projection, swaying slightly on his feet. Steve took a moment to make sure Tony wasn’t going to collapse, and his attention returned to Howard once he spoke again. 

“You’re too young to understand this right now, so I thought I would put it on film for you.” Howard swept an arm towards the city model, glancing back at the camera before bringing his arm back to his side, leaning against said model. “I built this for you, and someday you’ll realize that it represents a whole lot more than just people’s inventions. It represents my life’s work.” 

Tony was standing stock still, his face white with rage, clutching the bottle in his hands so hard that Steve thought it would break. He didn’t understand this reaction. He thought that seeing Howard would’ve made Tony happier- maybe sad, but not angry. He couldn’t fathom why Tony would be angry at a film of his father. Howard continued.

“This is the key to the future. I am limited by the technology of my time, but one day, you’ll figure this out. And when you do, you will change the world.”

Now, Tony’s hands were trembling, his shoulders quivering. From where he stood, Steve could see tears slipping down his face.

“What is and always will be...”

Tony was full on shaking now, what was left of the liquid in his bottle was sloshing against the glass walls holding it in.

“... my greatest creation...”

Tony’s voice was soft, “Don’t.”

“... is you.”

“BULLSHIT!” Tony launched the bottle at the projection as it cut off, the glass exploding against the wall. Steve flinched back as glass went flying, but Tony kept going. He threw anything he could reach at the wall, where Howard once stood.

“BULL-FUCKING-SHIT, YOU FUCKING-“ Another bottle went flying, shattering into a million pieces.

“LIAR- YOU TWO-FACED, DRUNKEN ASSHOLE-“ By now, Tony was screaming at where the projection once was, fists clenched, body tense. Steve blinked in shock, wishing he could reach out to Tony, but he was scared to.

“YOU FUCKING- YOU FUCKING LIAR, IT WAS HIM, IT WAS ALWAYS- ALWAYS HIM, AND YOU KNOW IT! IT WAS NEVER- WAS NEVER-“ Tony paces before shoving over a tower of boxes labeled “Howard S,” then another before whipping back around to the wall where Howard had been, seeming to deflate.

“It was never me. I-I tried, and I tried, and- and it was never me.” Sinking to the floor, Tony hiccups softly. “You were the worst- the worst father ever- I- I hated you. I hate you. Wherever the fuck you are- I hope- I hope you know that Mom and I- we fucking hated you- Not that she was any better. She- she never stopped-“ He takes a shaky breath, “She never stopped you. But you- you deserved it. You deserved to die.”

Steve inhales sharply, freezing when Tony whipped around to face him. Tony struggled up onto his feet, swaying dangerously. He stumbled forward, and Steve stepped forward to catch him, holding the smaller man tight against his chest. Tony’s voice was muffled against Steve’s pec.

“Why’re you ‘ere?”

Steve buries his nose in Tony’s hair, the only part of him that didn’t smell like whiskey or scotch- or any sort of alcohol.

“I came down to check on you. You’ve been down here for two days, is- is this what you’ve been doing this entire time?” At Tony’s silence, Steve scooped him up easily, carrying him away from the storage room, away from the memories of Howard, from the shattered glass that so painfully signified Tony’s broken past. He carried him to the elevator, up to their floor, into their bedroom, into their bathroom, sitting him down on the counter. Steve moved to start a bath before returning to Tony, looking him over for any glass stuck anywhere. Satisfied with his examination, he begins undressing Tony as the tub filled up. Anthony remained silent the entire time, slipping off the counter to undress his lower half as Steve began undressing himself, pulling off his shirt and dropping it to the floor in one fluid movement. Once both men were naked, Steve led Tony to the bathtub, reaching over to turn off the water before helping the brunet into the water, stepping in shortly after. 

He settled himself behind Tony, pulling the other against him, between his legs so that Tony’s back was pressed against Steve’s chest. Pressing a kiss to his boyfriend’s ear, Steve begins washing Tony, using slow, gentle strokes across his body. They were silent for long minutes, the only sounds came from Steve’s arm moving through the water and the soft puffs of breath through Tony’s nose. The silence didn’t last, however, because as soon as Steve finished washing Tony, he spoke.

“Did- did Howard-“

“Please don’t.”

“I have to know.”

“You really don’t.”

“Tony-“ Steve let out a soft sigh, “please?”

Tony was silent for so long that Steve began to move, almost had given up on an answer before Tony spoke.

“Yes.”

Settling once more, Steve pulls Tony closer.

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

“Howard- he- he ignored you?”

“Yes.”

“Did he- did he hit you?”

“Yes.”

Steve paused, biting his lip before speaking- whispering,

“Am I ‘him?’”

Steve got his answer from Tony’s silence.

With a soft sigh, Steve shifts so he can stand, stepping out to grab a towel and wrap it around his waist, turning back to help Tony out of the tub. He handed the shorter man a towel before draining the water in the bath. Turning back to Tony, he jumps slightly. Tony stared up at Steve, gaze unwavering, determined.  

“I love you.”

Steve blinks, confused. “I love you too, Tony.”

Tony shakes his head, sending water droplets everywhere. “No- I mean, I- I don’t hate you. I love you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I-“ Tony lets out a huff of breath, “Even if you’re ‘him,’ I don’t hate you- you’re not him. I- you’re not the one Howard was always talking about. You’re- you’re different. I hated that guy, not you.” Tony glances away, fidgeting.

Steve bites his lip, “You’re not him, either, you know.” When Tony glanced up, Steve continued. “Howard. You’re not him.” 

Tony’s expression twisted into something unreadable, but Steve knew that those were the words Tony has needed to hear his entire life. Deciding not to push it further, Steve wrapped a warm arm around Tony’s shoulders, leading him into the bedroom and to the bed, stopping only to grab clothes for both of them. Handing a pair of sweatpants to Tony, Steve changed silently, folding his and Tony’s towels and putting them back in the bathroom before rejoining Tony, who was now under the covers. Sliding under the covers, Steve reaches out and pulls Tony close, curling around the smaller man protectively, as if he could shield him from the world. Tony sighed quietly, pressing against Steve.

“Get some sleep, Tony.”

Tony simply nodded against Steve’s chest as JARVIS shut off the lights. As soon as Tony’s breath evened out, Steve closed his eyes. The last thing he remembered before slipping into a dreamless sleep was cursing Howard to the deepest depths of Hell.