Chapter 3
“I’m not saying anything without my lawyer,” were the first words out of Tony Stark’s mouth the second Maria had entered the interrogation room.
Now, half an hour later, she re-entered the room, armed with a file and a two cups of coffee.
“Mr. Stark –”
“Please, do call me Tony,” the teenager in front of her said with a wink.
“Tony,” Maria conceded, taking a sip from her coffee and considering the boy. Tony Stark was well known in the city. Not only for being the son of Howard Stark but also for being a genius himself. “Tony, we have several eyewitnesses, telling us that you and Steve Rogers had a fight a few months back.”
“Did we?” Tony asked, seeming genuinely surprised for a second.
“Something about pig’s blood.”
“Ahh! Yes…that happened.”
“And yet, you invited him to your party.”
“We became friends afterwards,” Tony explained nonchalantly.
“So it was not Steve who vandalised your father’s property?”
“Don’t know. Don’t care,” Tony answered dismissively and drank from his own cup of coffee.
“You seemed to care a great deal then.”
“Yeah, well…things change,” Tony answered quietly, almost bitterly.
“And how’s that?”
Tony met her gaze, holding it, before taking a deep breath.
It was a Friday and like every Friday Tony and his friends were sitting in the spacious living room of Stark Manor, drinking wine, because, like every Friday, Maria and Howard Stark were out doing god knows what.
It was tradition.
“I don’t get it,” Clint said after another rant from Tony about the Rogers kid, “Why do you care so much? You hate your father.”
“Okay, first of all,” Tony started, lowering his wine glass, “I don’t hate him. I severely dislike him. There’s a difference. Secondly, it’s a matter of principle. Who the hell does he think he is? Coming into our school and acting like he’s better than everyone? Doesn’t he know that my father is one of the reasons why he even got that scholarship?”
“Your father is also one of the reasons why he needed it in the first place,” Peggy reminded him.
“No,” Tony disagreed, “That was on Hydra and Hydra belongs to Pierce. My father is merely an investor. It’s not like he build the damn school.” Tony emptied his glass and reached for the bottle.
“Tony,” Pepper sat down next to him, taking the wine and setting it out of his reach, “You need to let this go. No one can prove it was Steve who left that message.”
“He practically admitted it!” Tony all but shouted, “And if it wasn’t him, it sure as hell was Tall, Dark, And In Need Of A Haircut.”
“That’s his boyfriend,” Peggy said.
“How do you know?”
“I talked to Steve. It’s what you do to people you don’t know.”
Tony scoffed, “Why would you do that?”
“I think he’s cute,” Sharon supplied unhelpfully.
“He looks like a stiff breeze could knock him over,” Tony said and both Peggy and Sharon looked at him rather unimpressed. “Oh, come on! Just because he’s got that whole boy scout look going for him?”
The Carter sister’s shrugged.
Pepper gave him a the Look.
Clint looked slightly bored.
And Banner –
“Et tu, Bruce?” Tony clutched his heart and pouted at his best friend.
“I’m staying out of this,” Bruce muttered.
Traitor, Tony thought.
“I have to agree with Tony,” Natasha spoke up. She was stretched out on one of the sofas, looking both beautiful and deadly, in one hand she was lazily holding her wine glass, in the other her phone which held her attention.
“Thank you.”
Natasha didn’t even look at him, simply kept typing. “That boy is trouble,” she said, “Doesn’t hesitate to start a fight. He’s got connections, too. Mostly to socialists and small criminals.”
When it came to Natasha, Tony had stopped asking questions a long time ago. She knew things, it was scary, and he had resigned himself to never, ever, crossing her. Period.
“There you go, then,” Tony said, happy that at least one of his friends was on his side. Ignoring his girlfriend’s scowl, Tony leaned over Pepper and grabbed the wine bottle, not even bothering with his glass as he started drinking again.
“That doesn’t sound like the start of a friendship,” Maria remarked and Tony shrugged, muttering something unintelligible under his breath. “When did you decide to become Steve’s friend?”
“I didn’t decide anything,” Tony answered, “That just kind of happened.”
It wasn’t until few weeks later that Tony noticed.
It was another Friday and as tradition had it they were all supposed to be there. Except they weren’t. The only people currently lounging on the couches were Pepper, Bruce, and Tony himself.
“Where is everyone?” Tony asked no one in particular.
“Natasha said there’s a party,” Bruce muttered, his eyes glued to a book on quantum physics.
“A party?” Tony exclaimed, “What party? Why did I not now about this? And more importantly, why am I not there?”
“Steve’s hosting it.”
Oh.
“Oh.”
“You crashed the party?”
“Of course I did.”
The party was in one of those corners of the city that you were better off staying as far away from as possible unless you knew someone who lived there, and Tony had to admit that he felt a wee bit uncomfortable as he, Pepper, and Bruce, who he had simply forced to come with,, went down the street towards a run-down building that was supposedly the home of one Steven Grant Rogers.
The party itself? So not what Tony had expected.
There were about 15 people in the apartment. An apartment which was about the size of Tony’s bedroom. An apartment filled with music and laugher and dim lights and thick smoke.
He could see Steve, sitting on his boyfriend’s lap, sharing a joint on the sofa and talking to the twins.
He could see Peggy with a group of older guys and some girl, playing poker.
He could see Clint and Natasha making out in a dark corner of the kitchen.
He could see Sam talking to a girl that was way too young for the beer and cigarette she was holding.
He could –
“The fuck are you doing here?” Steve’s boyfriend practically growled at him and shit, when had he moved? Tony could have sworn that the guy had sat on the couch just seconds ago and –
“Leave it, Buck,” Steve’s voice broke through his train of thoughts, “’s not worth it.”
“We come in peace,” Tony quickly said.
“You come uninvited.” Steve’s small frame joined ‘Buck’s’ broad one and Tony wondered what kind of name ‘Buck’ was… It was clear that Steve was at least a little bit high…or drunk…or both…probably both – his eyes were unfocused, his speech slurred, and he was swaying lightly on his feet. Despite his previous words though, Steve simply pressed a beer into Tony’s hand and turned around, walking into kitchen, past Natasha and Clint who looked like they were seriously considering public sex.
“One wrong move…” ‘Buck’ grumbled and followed his boyfriend.
The poker party had ended and the guys, all slightly older and about as scruffy as Steve’s boyfriend, were eyeing the newcomers suspiciously, while Peggy was engrossed in a conversation with the girl; she was pretty, Tony noted, with brown-ish hair and a bright smile.
“So you’re him, then. The Antichrist.”
Tony nearly jumped out of his skin at the voice. The young girl he’d seen talking to Wilson earlier was now standing next to him, her blue eyes clear and intensive.
“Excuse me?”
“The son of the devil,” the girl elaborated, though not really helpfully.
Tony couldn’t help it, he chuckled. “Is that what they call me?”
“It might have come up.” The girl smirked and there was something familiar about that smirk, something he’d seen before…
“And you are?”
“Rebecca Barnes.”
One of the guys that had been watching him came over, his shoulders broad and his face covered by a moustache, “He bothering you, Becs?” he asked, lying a protective hand on Rebecca’s shoulder, but the girl didn’t seem intimidated by the looming presence of the older guy.
“You’re bothering me, Dugan,” she shot back, her voice losing all the smoothness it had had just seconds ago.
The guy, Dugan, raised his hands in a surrendering fashion and took a step back, “Hey, I’m just doing my job. Your brother’d kill me if anything happened to ya.”
“He’d also kill you if he ever found out who keeps buying me booze and smokes,” her voice sweet as sugar but her eyes gleaming dangerously and Dugan placed visibly. “Scram.” He did.
Huh…I like her
“That still doesn’t explain why you invited Steve to your party.”
“Yes, yes, I’m getting there.”
The next Monday was kind of…awkward. Tony had no idea what the social protocol was here. He’d crashed a guy’s party, eaten his food, drunken his beer, and gotten into a pretty passionate discussion about Einstein’s theory of relativity with the boyfriend’s sister. It didn’t make them friends, but it didn’t make them not-friends either.
The others, he saw, had less hang ups about the whole thing. Wilson followed the blond around like a lost puppy, Clint laughed loudly and excessively at the guy’s jokes, he could have sworn he’d seen Natasha crack a smile during lunch break, Peggy had signed up for a project with Steve for French class, and Sharon was so obviously crushing on Steve that Tony was beginning to worry about her kind of-but not really-on again-off again boyfriend/fuckbuddy Brock Pierce who was coming right towards us, Jesus fucking Christ, he looks pissed and I really wish Sharon would just ditch him already and –
“Rogers.”
The blond in question was standing with his back to Brock and sighed, a full on, eyes-closed, from-the-bottom-of-my-soul, Sigh, before he turned around, squaring his tiny shoulders.
“Yes?”
“Heard you invited my girlfriend to a party last Friday,” Brock said, his voice low and dangerous.
“I don’t know, did I? Who’s your girlfriend?” Steve replied, not seeming in the least bit intimidated.
“You fucking know who I’m talking about, you fucking queer,” Brock hissed, invading Steve’s space as he loomed over him, “Stay away from my girl.”
“I think your girlfriend can decide for herself who she wants to hang out with, don’t you? You don’t own her.”
That was when Sharon and Peggy rounded the corner, both freezing in place at the scene before them.
“What are you doing, Brock?” Sharon asked after she’d caught herself, stepping next to Steve.
“Just giving a word of warning to Rogers here.”
“Why?”
“I don’t like you spending time with him,” Brock said, turning towards Sharon, who let out a sound of disbelief.
“Excuse me?” she said, “I can spent time with whoever I want!”
There was a moment of stillness, like the calm before the storm, before several things happened at once.
Brock’s face morphed into a grimace of pure fury and he grabbed Sharon’s arm.
Sharon yelped and stumbled forward, obviously not expecting the outburst of violence.
Steve let out a shout and all but tackled Brock.
Peggy gasped and rushed forward.
And Tony? Tony suddenly found himself between Steve and Brock, blocking the fist meant for Steve’s face with his nose.
Hell’s Bells, he thought as he stumbled backwards, his ears ringing loudly.
Distantly, he noticed Peggy storming past him, tall and righteous and strong. He saw Brock wincing in pain as both Carter sister’s folded him like fucking toilet paper. And he felt a gentle hand on his face, a calming voice in his ear, a pair of blue eyes looking at him.
“Are you okay?” Steve asked.
Tony nodded.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
Tony shrugged.
“Maybe you’re not so bad after all.”
Tony smiled.
It hurt.
“And that’s how it happened.”