Chapter Text
Fury, because he's totally annoying, hacks into Tony's comm line as he's approaching the co-ordinates that Stane gave him in his taunt.
He's not a total dick, though — he just tells Tony in a begrudging tone that Stane hasn't brought anyone with him, only Steve.
JARVIS brings up a zoomed-in image of the graveyard. Steve's all tied up, so it must be a Thursday, and he's been placed in a roughly-excavated spot by Tony's headstone.
It's kind of macabre to be fighting a supervillain in a graveyard, but if that's what Tony has to do, that's what he has to do.
Besides, there may be no fight necessary. Tony has an ace up his sleeve, one that might enable everyone to walk away without feeling guilty.
And if Stane rejects it, Tony doesn't think he'll have any compunction shooting Stane in the face.
Tony lands carefully, maybe thirty paces in front of Stane, who's perched on Tony's headstone, looking bored. He flips his mask back and glares at Stane. The Iron Man mark sixteen works like a dream, and it's beyond a shame that he might blow this new one to smithereens in one fight, and that's if he even survives.
"You know, you actually nearly fooled me," Stane says, without saying hello. Stane looks gaunt, and there's a nasty looking burn on his face, and half of his hair is burned clean off, but otherwise he's looking the same as ever. "I think it was the alcohol that actually convinced me you weren't faking your death. You did end up hiding at Pepper's house, right?"
Tony nods, cautiously. Steve's staying very still, sitting on an old wooden chair. Tony can't see him clearly. He starts edging closer, slowly, his movement fluid.
"I was watching her trash and her groceries," Stane says, shaking his head, not seeming to notice Tony moving closer. "I will grant you that move as clever. That and the videos, and the genetic material we pulled from my exploding warehouse. Five years of manoeuvring and scheming just to pull the wool over your own friends' eyes. I honestly didn't think you had either in you. I guess I should have known the depths you would stoop to."
Now he's closer, Tony can see that Steve's attached to a very large explosive and a lot of complicated looking wires.
"I thought a decent explosion might work on him," Stane says, without even glancing at Steve. He crackles energy over his palms melodramatically. "Blow your super soldier boyfriend to pieces. He makes such pretty bait, don't you think?" Stane kicks at Steve, who doesn't yell out, even though he isn't gagged.
"Leave him alone, Stane," Tony says. They're not particularly suave first words, but they're what he wants to say, so he doesn't linger.
"Step out of your suit completely and toss your remote suiting-up bracelets to me or I'll blow him up straightaway without even giving you the time to say goodbye," Stane says, raising what looks like a remote control and pointing it at Steve.
Steve visibly swallows. Tony sighs.
"Slowly now," Stane barks.
Tony slowly raises his hands and does the twisting gesture necessary to remove the suit completely when he's not near one of his de-suiting rigs. The suit collapses down behind him, and Tony slowly takes off the bracelets and throws them off to one side.
"Strip," Stane says.
Tony freezes in the grass. Actually, nearly literally — it's really damn cold. "Seriously?" Tony says. "I met your girl — Sasha, wasn't it? — last time you and I had a conflict. I didn't think I was your type."
Stane glares.
"Fine," Tony says. "Slowly," he adds, mimicking Stane's accent. He tosses his t-shirt to one side, and ignores how freaking cold it is and undoes his belt. That goes to one side, and he steps out of his pants. "Do I really have to take these off?" he asks, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his boxer shorts.
"I'm supposed to take it on honor that you're not hiding anything down there?" Stane says, flatly. "Socks off, too."
Tony glares, but does what Stane says.
"You know," Stane practically purrs, "it was easy to find out that Steve here is the opening for me to get you doing whatever I want. I didn't even need all the security feed hacks. I'll admit, I missed it originally that you two were disgustingly gooey-eyed about each other. And in hindsight, since you tried to blow me up, I've seen all the evidence on my video and photo files. But I didn't need that evidence. I knew it the moment you took your helmet off, Stark. You don't fake your own death for a small reason." Stane spreads his arms, and smirks. "I faked mine so I could avenge my father's death without being plagued by you and SHIELD. You faked yours for love. It's enough to make me sick at how someone as weak as you brought down someone as great as my father."
"Your father betrayed me," Tony says, tilting his chin challengingly. He may be naked, but he's a Stark, and he wears that confidence like an armor."He was a monster."
"Right," Stane says. "I'm sure that's the story you tell. But it's not true. He made a mistake in hiring those hitmen to go after you. One measly mistake, and you took his life, and you took the company which was so rightfully mine."
"And that's partially why I'm here," Tony says, staying close. Stane's eyes are tracking him; movement might appear threatening at the moment, and Tony doesn't know yet how sensitive the explosives are that Steve is sitting on.
"You're here because I've kidnapped the love of your life and I threatened you," Stane says, shaking his head. "Y'know, it's even clearer now that my dad was the brains of the operation. Someone as stupid as you couldn't design half the clever weapons that Stark Industries used to come out with. Someone as moronic as you wouldn't end up naked in a graveyard, ready to follow my every whim."
"Okay," Tony says, "let's pretend for a moment that is all true. Before you start to play, I'd like to offer you a deal."
"I'm holding all the cards here, Stark," Stane says, forming a ball of energy in-between his fingertips and tossing it from hand to hand, like he's a bored kid with a deadly baseball. "But I do want to hear your pathetic attempt. It's funny that you think words will do anything."
"Here's the deal," Tony says, starting to pace a little. "You get the energy side of Stark Industries. It should have been Obadiah's anyway; the large arc reactor was a pet project he had with my father. SHIELD gets the other half. You get access to all the documentation from up to the point your father died, and you get 50% of all the profit in the ensuing years since his death. You still have to keep the current board members who hold 51% of the shares to make this above board legal, but you want to do that, believe me. SHIELD can't touch you if you keep legal with this. I walk away, and you rename it Stane Industries."
"So you'd give it to me in return for your lives," Stane says, rolling his eyes. "Why do I not believe this?"
"There's an addendum or two," Tony says. "Our lives, sure. Pepper still gets to do her altruistic stuff as long as it continues to give the company a tax break. And you promise to attempt to keep as much of the current staff on as possible. You do that, I walk away, no money, and nothing but my brain, exclusivity to Iron Man — which was produced on my own time — and the weapon schematics, which were always all mine. And one final thing."
"What?" Stane snaps. "My first born child?"
"You apologize to the families of the people you blew up," Tony says. "I made you fatherless in an act of self-defence. You wrecked a ton of families in an act of mindless terrorism. The least those families deserve is an apology."
"The least they deserve... They don't deserve a damn thing," Stane says. "A damn thing. Their deaths are on you. They're on you. And I won't rest until they know that. Until they know their loved ones are dead because of you. And I'll tell them how I blew you apart in revenge. They'll like it. You'll see. I'll kill you and make you into a martyr and then I'll take all of Stark Industries for myself."
"Ah," Steve says, startling them both into looking at him, "I hoped Tony was going to give you a chance to redeem yourself. I had hoped you might take it. I wipe my hands of what's going to happen to you now."
"Ugh," Stane says, wheeling on his heel and pinning Steve with a disgusted look. "You were doing so well, am I going to have to gag you again?"
"I suppose you could," Steve says, amicably, "but as you're probably going to be fighting both Tony and I, you're going to need your strength for that."
"Uh," Stane says, "I can blow you sky high any moment." He waves his hands at the pile of explosives under Steve's chair. "Does that ring any sort of bell for you?"
Steve actually laughs. "Sure, you could do that," Steve says, "but you kinda missed something that was directly in plain sight. Wait, that is the game you science guys play, right? It's hard to keep up." Steve detaches another wire, and rubs at his arms. "Tony, I have no idea how you put up with Steel Corpse's restrictions for so long. I've been tied up for six hours now and it's pretty wearing."
"Um," Tony says, "who are you and what have you done with Captain America?"
"Wait," Stane says, "this is a shapeshifter? No way. I've been watching you constantly, there's no way in hell—"
"Oh, I'm not a shapeshifter," Steve says, "but I'm also not normally this big. You know that right? You said it yourself; you've been looking at photo and video footage of me. Surely you can see my suit's a little larger than it used to be." Steve smiles ambiguously as Stane stares at him, and Tony finds himself looking at Steve too.
Steve's right. He is looking more muscular. But what does that mean? Even if Steve's been working out more, muscles — even super-enhanced ones — can't exactly stop bullets.
"While we were blowing up your first weapons cache," Steve says, "I stole some of the explosives. I've been slowly stitching them into my suit, probably when you've been assuming I've been sobbing under the sheets, actually. It's a terrible amount of explosives. If the ones I'm sat on go off, it would set off a chain reaction — the whole graveyard would blow. I know you want Tony dead and in an ideal world, me dying in front of him, but I don't really think you'd risk yourself to do that."
Tony goes cold. He had been so absorbed rigging up the explosives that he hadn't watched Steve. It's possible. It's insane. But Steve has a look on his face that suggests insanity isn't exactly a big leap.
"You're bluffing," Stane says, his eyes wide as he stares at Steve. "You are bluffing."
"Y'know," Steve says, still in the same annoyingly amiable tone. "That's how my plan succeeded. Captain America doesn't lie. Everyone knows that I'm honest."
"What, are you saying you lied? Captain, you haven't said much to me about anything since I caught you," Stane says. "You can't lie if you don't say anything."
"Tony kind of explained it himself. You've seen the tapes now, Stane. You heard him loud and clear." Steve stands up, but stays near the explosives. "You're too honest, Steve," Steve says, in a whiny exaggerated voice which does, admittedly, kind of sound like Tony. "Too straightforward. You could never be an asshole to get what you want."
Stane frowns. "What does that have to do with anything—"
"Thing is," Steve says, "you already know what it is that I want. Everyone knows what I want. I want Tony. And for him, I'd be an asshole to anyone in the world. Even to him, if I had to be." Steve looks across at Tony then, and Tony almost rocks with the intensity of that look.
The altercation in the forest.
It was all a lie.
Steve was being an asshole deliberately.
Steve wasn't just being angry because he was angry.
He'd lied for the same reason as Tony lied.
Tony could almost cry with relief.
"And you believed my performance," Steve says to Stane, "because Tony believed it. And he only believed it because he's an insecure idiot who's been betrayed by too many people in his life. And that includes your father, Zeke."
"You're both crazy," Stane says. "I'm the most powerful person either of you have ever seen. I'm the only one who's going to be walking out of this graveyard."
"Well, you see, there's the thing," Steve says. "Walking... I don't know."
"Okay," Stane says, "let's say I want to indulge your crazy. I'm a scientist. I like to go into things with facts. Explain to me why you think I won't be walking out of here."
"It's because you were clever," Steve says.
Tony blinks. Clever isn't usually an insult to people like Stane.
"Because I was clever," Stane starts, obviously just as confused as Tony.
"You knew we would be monitoring the takeaways and grocery shops in the area for abnormal orders," Steve says. "You knew I tried to get SHIELD to monitor the StarkBars, and they turned me down."
"Oh, oh, I know this one," Tony says. "Government can't interfere with altruistic capital exports." Steve side-eyes him. "What, I do read some of the memos Pepper sends. It's how I got so clever in the first place," Tony adds, for Stane's benefit. "Reading things."
"Did you think it was melodramatic justice? That Tony's company's StarkBars kept you alive? I bet you did." Steve hums, sounding oddly contented, considering he's still sitting on explosives. "You watched me, Zeke. You've seen what I did. I didn't hide. I did a lot of things after I threw that fit at Tony. Mostly I stomped around and killed some innocent punch bags, but I did try to be helpful. And then Pepper Potts needed some help on her StarkBar project."
"Yeah," Stane mutters, shuffling. "I saw you. You were basically an office boy. It was kind of hilarious, but I prefer Tony's expression now. It's much better than watching you fetch her coffee and do her typing."
"Oh," Tony says. He pulls a face. "Uh-oh."
"Yeah," Steve says, pulling a ridiculous face in return, a comically wide-eyed, apologetic expression. "She really shouldn't have let me type out the nutritional information for the StarkBars. I do type like a crazy person."
"What do you mean?" Stane barks. "I— I've been eating those, after someone," he glares at Tony, "took out my proper food." He turns to Steve. "You wouldn't do anything. You're Captain America. Those bars are going out to Africa to feed poor, starving orphans. You wouldn't do anything to them. You might have lied to cover up for Stark here, but you wouldn't sabotage them, and you can't bluff about that. They're safe — I had a lab check out the ingredients. They were what they said on the packet, in the ratio the packet said."
"Yeah, they were," Steve says. "But, I kinda mistyped one of the numbers. It's a shame, I'll have to talk to Pepper later to fix that."
"You won't get a later," Stane snarls.
"I'm not so sure," Steve says, still in an annoying amiable tone. "The number I got wrong was the calorie information. They're actually only 400 calories a bar. I accidentally mistyped them at 500. That's not too bad a difference. Unless, of course, you're trying to ingest 20,000 calories a day to keep up enough energy for your little hand power blasts. In which case, carry the zero, multiply that by four... You've only been ingesting 16,000 calories a day. Which makes you weaker than you think you are, Ezekiel, by a good 4,000 calories. Which, by my calculations, considering the energy you will have needed to heal yourself after the explosion gives you about three more good hand blasts today before your power gives out." Steve winces. "Sorry about that. Except, y'know, I'm not."
"You're completely bluffing," Stane says, and his tone goes lower, angrier, "you're completely bluffing," he repeats, and then brings up his hand, and Tony has about half a second warning — Tony makes a dive out of the way.
A big, naked dive. In a graveyard. To behind a gravestone.
There are certain levels in one's life that one can sink to with dignity, and then there's ones which are hopeless to the dignity cause, and this is definitely one of the latter cases.
"Three more hand blasts," Stane says, charging up another bolt towards Tony, clearly avoiding Steve just in case that bluff isn't true. And now Tony thinks about it, Steve's uniform does look a bit bulked out. "I feel completely normal. I'm going to enjoy killing you both."
Stane's next blast takes a substantial chunk out of the gravestone Tony dived behind, and Tony's only half covered by the next one when Stane's third blast drives into it, and Tony's knocked to the ground, covered in flaming chunks of gravestone, and for a second Tony actually thinks this is it, I'm dying naked in a graveyard.
Except, Stane raises his hand, and it turns out Steve's completely right.
An energy bolt sputters out, but doesn't have enough power to reach Tony.
Stane flails for only a second, before diving for one of the contraptions hanging from his belt which presumably have more usual power sources than food, but the second — brief as it is — is too long. Steve bodily tackles him from behind, knocking them both to the ground, and Stane's head connects hard with a gravestone, stunning him.
Stane tries to punch Steve, but it's like trying to punch a cinder block.
Impossible, unless you are Captain America. Or maybe the Hulk. Or maybe Thor. And one day, Tony's train of thoughts won't go to wacky destinations while the love of his life is locked in combat with one of his mortal enemies.
Tony lurches to his feet, and scrambles over one of the half-shattered gravestones to where he threw his bracelets. He staggers over to Stane, and locks them onto Stane's wrists, knocking the remote control out of Stane's grasp as he does so.
"Oh," Tony says, "they're not my suiting-up bracelets." He grins at Steve. "They're energy-restraint bracelets like we used on X-Ray. I switched them out thinking Stane would think I'd want to call the Iron Man suit to me. Why would I, when I can fight him completely naked?"
Steve pulls back and helps yank a now restrained-by-the-wrists Stane into a sitting position. Tony helps hold him down as Steve grabs enough of the wires to tie Stane up, and Tony methodically strips Stane of anything that might be a weapon before they both, in silent agreement to melodrama, tie Stane to Tony's headstone.
Stane starts to yell, incoherent death threats, but Steve gags him with Tony's abandoned t-shirt, and glares at Tony, like he's daring him to argue with him.
Steve straightens, and walks around the gravestone so a struggling Stane is facing the other way, and he walks over to Tony. He doesn't say anything, he just looks at him gravely, but then he lifts a hand, and pushes hair away from Tony's forehead.
Tony, in return, makes an embarrassing sound of relief that he will deny later, and throws himself into Steve's arms. If he sobs a little, Steve never tells anyone.
Especially as there's pretty undeniable tears in his eyes, too.
For a moment, there are no words, until Steve's fingers drift along Tony's shoulder, and Steve says, under his breath, like he's not even aware he's saying it, "Look at what that suit did to you."
Steve's vocal tone is a combination of horror and kindness. It's enough to give Tony hope that this moment of reconciliation isn't going to be a repeat of their heart-breaking conversation in the woods.
"How did you know?" Tony asks, quietly. "When did you know it was me?"
"Not for a while," Steve says, his arms tightening around Tony's back. Tony melts into the warmth of the embrace automatically; now's not the time to be restrained. Not when it feels like Steve could still disappear, any moment. "I had an inkling during your first fight with the Avengers, when Ironclad knocked you down. You were tackled from the left. You do favor your right flank. After that, I had suspicions. I knew for sure when I uncovered X-Ray. Tony Stark doesn't stop moving. And you fidgeted like hell."
"I don't forgive liars," Tony says, repeating Steve's words from then.
"After that, I knew it was likely we would confront Stane. And I knew it was likely he would think to fake his death too," Steve says. "So that's why I said that. To plant the seed of doubt in your head. So that when Stane saw me reject you for being a liar, he would believe it, and you would believe it. Your reaction had to be genuine. He had to believe I had a genuine reason for stalking off on my own."
"Leaving you as bait," Tony says, remembering the list and its acronym.
"And I knew you would have to forgive me for it," Steve says, "because you did it first, and worse."
Tony finds it hard to swallow, but he forces it through so he can speak. "I don't regret what I did," Tony says, shakily. "And I'd do it again. The idea of him hurting you, it was killing me."
"Same," Steve says, simply. There's silence for a long moment.
"This," Tony mutters, because changing the subject is something he can always do, "is not how I pictured our first naked embrace."
"Speak for yourself," Steve says, "I'm still fully clothed."
Tony pulls back a little, but stays in the reassuring circle of Steve's arms. "Your uniform does look bigger than usual. Did you really stitch explosives into it?"
Steve looks innocent for a moment, and then shakes his head, looking a little dazed with relief and happiness. "No," Steve admits. "I've been smuggling teabags to stitch into the lining so I could pull that bluff off."
"Teabags," Tony repeats, remembering their cabinets back in the mansion full of the stuff. "I don't suppose you smuggled some sort of communicator into your uniform so we can let SHIELD know this is all over and go home? That is," Tony adds, suddenly worried, "unless it's all a bluff and you really are irredeemably pissed off with me, in which case, I really want to put my pants back on right now."
Steve looks at him, low and steady. "I am hurt that you didn't tell me," he says, in a quiet and truthful voice. "I'm so hurt at that. It's going to take a lot of work to fix, you and I. But I'm rolling with the idea that we're worth it."
"I did try and tell you," Tony mutters. "I didn't try hard enough. I'm sorry."
"It's okay. You didn't really trust me to let you go through with it." Steve shrugs, like he's pretending not to care, but that's not him. Steve always cares. It's whether he wants to care or not that's the problem. "It's okay."
"It's not," Tony mutters, turning into Steve's palm, pushing a kiss into the skin there. He takes a moment to revel in the feeling he thought he would never have again.
"I knew you wouldn't fake your death if it wasn't entirely necessary," Steve says, shrugging. "I knew you wouldn't hurt us like that if you didn't have to. Hurt me," he corrects.
"Yeah?" Tony says, shuffling closer into Steve's personal space, nudging Steve's hip with his own. Steve tracks the movement, and a dull flush covers his cheek. Oh, yeah. Tony's naked. It's a good thing it's freezing cold; if SHIELD do drop in on them, Tony doesn't exactly want to give them a show. "How did you know?"
Steve smiles at him, eyes wet with emotion. "Because of what you said during our night together."
Tony's head whips up, stunned. He can't help the flood of heat to his cheeks. He doesn't remember saying anything in particular that might make Steve trust him so implicitly. He knows what he might have said, though.
Steve confirms that thought by leaning in, pressing a warm open mouthed kiss to his neck that makes him tremble, and murmuring, warm and confidently, "I love you too."
Oh.
So that is what he said.
Tony can't help it. He's naked, and his enemy is tied to Tony's own gravestone, mere meters away, and it's freezing cold, but Steve's here and Steve doesn't hate him and Steve loves him. He reaches up and kisses Steve desperately, like if he moves in the right way, maybe they can merge together and Tony never has to be without him again.
He kind of likes that idea.
He has to stop kissing Steve, though. However hard it is.
"I said that?" Tony says, moving his head away from Steve's mouth. "Because I think I said I glove you."
"You glove me," Steve murmurs, chasing him back, brushing a kiss against Tony's jawline that makes him tremble again. "I thought that was called fisting."
"The pottymouth on Captain America," Tony says, pretending to be outraged. "You should be ashamed of yourself, Steve."
"Oh, I plan to do several deep and dirty things to you. They may very well be shameful."
Tony warms from his words, and his mouth feels oddly dry. He doesn't quite know what to do with himself now he's alive and free, and he decides he quite likes that feeling. He definitely likes how it feels to be in love with Captain America. To have Steve return that love.
"Hmm," Tony says, happily, "I think I can live with that."
Steve looks at him askance. "You'd better," he says, meaningfully.
Tony squints. "Too soon for jokes about it?"
Steve gives him another hacky look.
"Fine," Tony says, and tugs at Steve's tea-filled uniform. "You could probably shut me up creatively, though."
"Oh, god," Stane whines, having apparently managed to spit out his gag, "shoot me now."
"I don't think so, Stane," Steve says, in his very best Captain America tone. "I think we'll be shipping you off to prison for the rest of your life, so you can think about all the people you killed."
Stane makes a strangled sound, and then starts borrowing from the supervillain handbook that really must do the rounds at supervillain Christmas parties or something, because he starts muttering about death threats and how Tony will live to regret his vile acts, and Steve goes to gag him again while Tony goes searching for his pants.
It's not the end Tony imagined to all of this. In fact, he's still pretty stunned that he's not a smear on the wall of some random warehouse. He never dared imagine a future like this, where he gets to be with Steve. Steve, who doesn't hate him. Steve, who loves him back.
"Hey," Steve murmurs, "that might be SHIELD now, sending the cavalry."
Tony settles back into Steve's arms, and looks up into the sky. The stars are bright, and he thinks he can see the light of the Avengers' quinjet heading their way, but he closes his eyes until the light's nothing more than an illusion against his eyelids, and he focuses on what's definitely real: Steve, in his arms. There. Alive. His.
In the end, nothing is an illusion, and everything is real.
