Steve Rogers was a 31-year-old working at SHIELD tattoo parlor. He sat on his tattered old work chair leaning over his friend’s arm. “You know Stevie, you should go out there and find a nice someone.” The long-haired burette said.
“You know I don’t have time for relationships, Buck,” Steve commented, putting down the needle to admire his work. “They’re a waste of time, and plus I’m fine staying single.” His friend scoffed, pulling his sleeve down the new red star on his shoulder. “If you call having one night stands every night ‘being single’ fine. But don’t come running to me when you’re tired of fucking complete strangers every night.” Steve rolled his eyes, it wasn’t as if he was fine with not having someone to go home to, it was more he couldn’t find someone. “Alright Buck, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Steve said waving his friend a goodbye as the younger man left the shop. Steve went to the bathroom and grabbed the edges of the sink looking at himself in the mirror. His eyes looked bloodshot, his blonde hair sticking up in several directions. He sighed, how did he end up like this? Single. Working in a tattoo show for minimum wage. Sleeping with complete strangers he takes home every night. Living in an old crusty single apartment. He had a good life in college, friends, a nice girlfriend, good grades, a steady art internship. Until his mom died and his one source of happiness disappeared. He got into alcohol, got kicked out of school. He was lucky enough that his friend Natasha let him work at the tattoo shop.
Steve gathered his hands under the faucet and splashed his face with water, waking up from his haze. He stared at his tattoo drawn by Natasha. It was a silver dagger, running halfway down his arm reading: still, I rise in bold italics. That tattoo helped him get through the hard times. Steve would remember the metallic taste of his own blood as father’s fist came crashing into his face when he was younger. The worst of it occurred when he came out. Homophobic slurs rattled in Steve’s head as his father pushed his mother and ran towards Steve, punching, yelling, screaming. Whenever he had a flashback to his father’s harsh curses and punches, he would run a hand down the drawling reciting still I rise, still I rise, still I rise over and over in his head.
Steve let out a shaky sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. He exited the bathroom and looked around the shop once before he left to return to his apartment. Steve locked the door and headed out into the crisp darkness of the night. He shuddered and stuck his cold hands in the pockets of his jeans. He turned down Park Avenue until he heard a yell. Steve shook his head and continued his way, not bothering to even turn towards the sound. That was until he heard the pounding of footsteps behind him, and a medium size figure bumped into him in a grunt. He squinted his eyes to search out the face of the figure in front of him. “Hey buddy do you mind moving outta the way, I’m kinda trying to be kidnapped now.” The what appeared to be man said frantically trying to move around Steve. Steve awkwardly moved out of the way, so the man could pass. “Thanks, bye now,” The man said, patting Steve on the shoulder and speed away into the darkness. The blonde shook his head out of confusion and continued down the street. After a few freezing cold minutes, Steve returned to the front door of his apartment and stepped inside the warmth. He took off his jacket and shoes and plopped down on his old tattered creaky couch. Letting out a sigh he grabbed the remote and proceeded to flip through random channels. After finding absolutely nothing even remotely entertaining to watch, he turned and checked the time, 12:47 am. He stood up and wondered to his bed, taking off his shirt, socks, and pants, he settled in and turned off the light.
“Do you think I want any son of mine to be a fag? Do you? ANSWER ME!” Joseph spat.
“No- I,” 23- Year old Steve said, hands in pockets looking down.
“Don’t stutter boy, I taught you better,”
“I-” Steve started, but then was interrupted by the sound of a whiskey bottle smashing into a wall. He looked up to see his father looking him in the eye with pure disgust. Next thing Steve knew, his lip was split open and his right eye was throbbing. He saw his mother weeping behind Joseph before he grabbed onto her arm and yanked her next to him. “Do you think your mother wants you to be a faggot? DO you?” His mother reached out to Steve lovingly, but Joseph hit her in the ribs and pushed her back.
Steve woke up gasping, hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. He looked around in the darkness, eyes adjusting. He checked the time on his phone, 2:24. He went to the bathroom and fell to the floor as soon as he closed the door. Shaking back and forth clutching his tattoo he shut his eyes and let the pain wash over him. Moments later, he let out a shaky breath and got up.
Steve took a quick shower then got changed into a nice leather jacket and black skinny jeans. He slipped his phone into his back pocket and left his apartment without a second thought.
He let the cold air wipe the remaining of tears off his face as he entered the crowded bar and sat down. The pounding music made his ears thump. The blue-eyed man ordered a scotch and soon was drinking his problems away.
He was about to order another when he looked across the bar into the eyes of a handsome man. He smirked and winked at the man, wondering if he was reading the signals correctly. The handsome man smirked back and stood up, soon he scooted next to Steve. “This music’s a little loud you think? Want to go somewhere… quieter?” The man asked Steve, licking his lips. Steve recognized that voice. Was it the man who ran into Steve earlier? Steve shook his and offered a hand to the man and they headed outside. The un-named man smashed his lips into Steve’s, the warmth erupted through Steve’s body as he gripped onto the man’s sides. Steve fumbled for his phone and called an Uber, they soon crashed into the back seat, the man’s hand on Steve’s crotch. Steve bit his lip and struggled to contain himself the way to his apartment. Steve took the man’s hand and let him into his apartment. “Tony,” The man said, sticking a hand out to Steve. “Steve,” Steve responded, taking the man’s hand.
Steve picked the man up, hands under his thighs and smashed him into the bed hungry. The man- Tony moaned as Steve took his shirt off, revealing a set of abs. Tony took his shirt off, revealing an almost equal set of abs, and a small set of tally marks on his chest. Steve ignored the tattoo and kissed Tony, biting and sucking his lip. Tony fumbled for Steve’s fly and took his pants off. Tony clawed Steve’s bare back, as Steve left a hickey on Tony’s neck and bit his shoulder. Steve reached over Tony to grab a few certain things from his nightstand. Steve lubed up his index and middle finger, sticking the tip of his index into Tony. Tony let out a moan, urging Steve for more. Steve slid his whole finger into Tony as he gasped. Steve moved in and out slowly “M-more,” Tony pleaded to Steve. Steve obeyed adding another finger. Tony moaned as Steve stroked his dick. Steve was hard himself, wanting and needing to enter Tony. “I’m ready,” Tony said, gasping. Steve obliged, feeling his dick throbbing. He pushed the tip into Tony as they both gasped. Tony gripped the sheets as Steve slipped inside him. Steve moaned, feeling Tony’s warmth. Tony nodded, and Steve moved. He fucked Tony hard into the mattress. “I-I’m,” Tony said, as he came over Steve’s chest, Steve followed soon after. They both panted and lay in Steve’s bed still afterward. “Shit,” Tony said, mumbling something about a board meeting, “Call me,” Tony said giving Steve a business card. Steve nodded as he watched Tony gather his clothes and exit his apartment. Steve checked the time after Tony was gone, he had about 2 more hours until he had to wake up for his shift at the parlor. Steve rinsed Tony’s cum from his body and removed the sheets, then fall backward, closing his eyes into -hopefully- uninterrupted sleep.
The next morning, Steve grumbled and cursed after he checked his phone to see that he was late for work. He quickly changed into his leather jacket he wore the night before and grey jeans and slipped out of bed. After the two-block walk to SHIELD, he was greeted by Natasha’s raised eyebrows and flaming red hair. “Where were you?” She asked, walking behind the check-in counter. “He was probably doing his midnight fucks again,” His friend, Clint, chipped in. Natasha rolled her eyes at their friend’s antics, “Next time don’t be late, yeah?” Steve nodded his head and headed back to his station checking his schedule. Clint came up to him and chuckled, “So who was it this time? Do I know him?” Steve rolled his eyes and searched his jacket for Tony’s business card and gave it to Clint. “No shit,” Clint said. “Nat isn’t this your weird guy?” Soon Nat came over and read Tony’s name. “Tony and that’s his number, yeah. Weird,” Steve looked at them confused, “Huh?” Nat shrugged,
“Nothing, just this guy who comes in once and a while constantly and asks for a tally mark,” Steve frowned at this, “He had nine, on his chest,” Nat nodded,
“That’s definingly him then,” She asserted.
“Do you know what they mean?” Steve asked, now curious. Nat shook her head,
“I never ask questions, why don’t you ask him yourself,” She said and walked away to take care of a customer. Clint looked at Steve and shrugged, “Idk man, you should call him though. You need someone,” Steve sighed,
“Clint, I told you-” Steve started.
“Yeah, yeah. ‘I’m busy and relationships are overrated,’” Clint said patting Steve on the back as he returned back to his station. Steve looked down at the card in his hand and sighed. “Nat, I have to make a call,” He said as he passed her on the way out the door of the shop. “Go get him, tiger!” She said as he heard Clint say to Natasha, “I can’t wait to tell Buck,”. Steve shook his head as he called Tony’s number.
“’ello?” Steve heard Tony’s voice over the phone.
“Yeah hey, it’s me. Steve,” he added after it was silence on Tony’s side.
“Oh, hey handsome. What are you calling little old me for?” Steve chuckled.
“I was wondering if you would like to have drinks again sometime?” Steve heard a gasp.
“Are you asking me on a date?” Tony said.
“Yes. If you would like,” Steve responded, practically crossing his fingers.
“I would love too. Want me to pick you up?” Tony asked Steve. Steve agreed, and they had a date set up for later in the day. Steve had a big old smile on his face when he entered back into the shop, “Fuck, yes man!” Clint cheered high-fiving him, earning a strange look from some customers. Steve shrugged as he settled back into his station and began reviewing his schedule once again.
Hours later, Steve heard a knock on his door. He scampered to get up and opened the door to reveal Tony’s dark hazel eyes looking him up and down. Steve was wearing dark blue skinny jeans that hugged his ass perfectly, and a tight white T-shirt that made Tony’s mouth water. “Well hello there,” Tony said, which made Steve burst out laughing, “Hey! Don’t laugh at me! It’s not my fault you’re unbelievably hot,” Steve shook his head and grabbed Tony’s hand. “So, Mr. America-” Steve raised an eyebrow at that. “You know… Captain America the comic book character? You kind of look like him or a younger Chris Evans,” Tony said.
“Hey, at least Chris Evans hot, Captain America is a little too stuck up for my tastes,” Steve responded. “Anyway, I was hoping on going to this really good steak place if you’re up for it?”
“Sure,” Tony answered. “I love me a bit of some meat,” He said wiggling his eyebrows.
“God you’re even worse than my friend Clint,” Steve chuckled.
After a short drive, they got to the restaurant. “Two please,” Steve requested, as they were lead to their table. “Wow, this is really nice,” Tony commented as he looked around the fancy restaurant. Steve shrugged, “So tell me about yourself, Tony,”
Tony smiled, “Well you know that gigantic building, on the corner of Park Avenue?” Steve nodded. “I’m that Tony.” It took a while for Steve to get it but then his eyes got wide.
“Like billionaire genius Tony Stark, Tony Stark?” Steve questioned. Tony nodded.
“I don’t know why it takes people so long to realize that,”
Steve shrugged, “I don’t watch a lot of TV,” Tony smiled at Steve as a waiter came to take their order.
“So, tell me about yourself, Mr. Steve,” Tony questioned.
“There’s not much to tell, I work at SHIELD and have a drawing hobby,” Steve shrugged.
“Oh! I love SHIELD, the owner, Natasha? I think her name is my frequent artist,” Tony commented. “As for art, that’s pretty cool. The only thing I’m able to draw is engineering specs. Do you have any pieces you can show me?”
“No, I don’t really draw as much anymore,” Steve shrugged.
“Shame, I would really like to see your work sometime,” Tony said, smiling at Steve.
“Maybe I’ll draw you sometime,” Steve said, holing Tony’s hand across the table. Tony nodded.
“I would love that,” Tony responded.
After they ate, Tony insisted they headed back to his penthouse. Tony waved at the security guard, as they entered the elevator. “What floor, Master Stark?” A voice sounded, making Steve jump. Steve looked around hesitantly, as Tony started laughing. “Penthouse Jar, and don’t worry, it’s just JARVIS, he’s kind of like a butler without a body,”
“You built an AI?” Steve said in shock.
“Wow, you really don’t watch TV that often, do you?” Tony asked, taking Steve’s hand as they arrived. “Tony, this is amazing,” Steve said as they entered Tony’s floor. Tony mumbled thanks as he took off his jacket and threw it over the couch. “We’ve kinda screwed up this whole ‘first comes, love then comes marriage’ shit, so do you want to just cuddle and watch a horror movie?” Tony asked.
“I would love to,” Steve laughed, as he took off his jacket too.
Steve sat on the couch, Tony under his arm as he flipped through stations. “We should watch IT,” Tony said as he took the remote from Steve and clicked on the move. However, only little of the movie was watched, they started making out and before they knew it they were both shirtless. “What does your tattoo mean?” Tony whispered, running his fingers worn the drawn-on blade. Steve looked away from Tony’s eyes, “Shit- sorry I shouldn’t pry,” Tony said.
“No, it’s ok.” Steve said, “My father was abusive, and he gave me a lot of shit throughout my life. He ended up overdosing a few years ago. Overall my mom and I were happy, he left scars on both of our body’s and we were finally just- free. About a year ago my mom died. I started hanging out with some bad people, with help of my good friends I got my life back on track, but this tattoo helps me remember to stay sane,” Steve finished shakily. Tony planted a small kiss on his lips. “That’s beautiful Steve,”
“Tell me about yours,” Steve said, running a thumb over the nine tallies.
Tony nodded solemnly, “Similar to you my dad was pretty shitty, abusive and all that jazz. He and my mom died in a car crash a few years ago. I started drinking at a really young age, I had severe depression. These tally marks represent how many months I’ve stayed sober,” Tony said, looking Steve in the eyes.
Steve kissed Tony’s forehead, “I guess we’re both a little broken, but two broken hearts make a full one,” Tony sadly looked into Steve’s eyes and they both kissed, not fast or dirty, but light and loving. A promise.
And so, two broken hearts, wrapped in each other’s arms, became full.