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a heartbeat drives you mad

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The next night, Tony isn’t home, so Steve leaves for Thor’s without him, texting Johnny on the way, hey, you going tonight?


Absolutely! comes his response, You?  Fucking yes, it’s gonna be a good night.


Steve just grins and pockets his phone.  It’s not a long walk to Thor’s, and, when he arrives, he sees Tony immediately, dancing with Pepper and Peggy, his shirt gone, and he has half a mind to go over and steal him, but he heads for the drinks instead when he sees Johnny.  “Steve!” Johnny exclaims as he approaches, and, as soon as he’s within reaching distance, Johnny grabs at him, pulling him close and kissing him.  He tastes like cheap beer and nicotine, and though it’s kind of a nasty taste, Steve kisses him back, licking into his mouth and stepping in close to him.  “Hello to you, too,” Johnny says when they part, grinning lazily, “Come on, let’s get you good and wasted.”


He pushes a drink into Steve’s hands, and he takes it gratefully, chugging.


On the floor, Tony pulls a move on Pepper, fingers drifting under her jeans, and she just laughs and tips her head back, moving in time with the music.  “Not a chance, Tony,” Peggy says, reaching forward and plucking his hand out, so he lets them slide upward, and Peggy just sighs and nudges him away, turning Pepper so that she can kiss her.


Tony whines at them before he plunges in deeper, looking for someone to dance with.  “Fuck yes,” he groans when he sees the two men from before, and he makes a beeline for them.  They cheer when they see him and immediately pull him into their circle, hands fluttering over him.


“Hey,” Steve says, hand coming down to circle Johnny’s hip, “Come on.”  Johnny nods, tipping back the rest of his drink before he lets Steve lead him into the crowd, and they fuse together, dancing until Steve’s pressing hot kisses along Johnny’s neck, and Johnny rocks against him, slowing until they’re really just swaying together.


“Alright, pecks, let’s go,” Johnny says, grabbing his hand, fingers circling around his wrist, and he tugs Steve off.


Tony and his men have drifted off away from the crowd, though they’re still fairly close, Tony pressed against the wall as they attack him, mouths and hands everywhere until one of them is dropping to his knees, and Tony just laughs and lets his head fall back against the wall.  His jeans come undone, the other one steps in, shielding them, distracting Tony with a kiss as the first one takes Tony’s cock in his mouth, sucking hard.  He bats a hand at the second one’s belt until he undoes it for him, and then Tony’s diving a hand beneath his jeans, twisting until he can get a good hold, his jeans sagging a little so that his cock is free, and Tony jerks him off, hips pinned against the wall as he’s blown.


Johnny manages to find the room where they were last time, and he starts stripping out of his clothes quickly, motioning for Steve to do the same.  They fall together on the bed, and this time, when Johnny slides on top, Steve lets him, groaning loudly when Johnny slowly sinks down.  They fuck like this, Johnny riding him, and, when Steve comes, bucking up against Johnny, he has to swallow down Tony’s name.  After, he tips Johnny off of him, kisses down his front, and then gives his first blowjob, letting Johnny direct him a little here and there until he’s getting the hang of it, and Johnny’s nails are scraping against his scalp, moaning softly.  Johnny starts to pull him off, his voice an edged litany of, “shit, Steve, I’m close, so fucking close, I’m gonna come, fuck,” but Steve wants to swallow him down, wants to feel him come down his throat, and then Johnny’s groaning, his cock pulsing in Steve’s mouth.


Back at the party, Tony’s just zipping his pants when the two men kiss each other, and he hums appreciatively.  When they part, the taller of them says, “I’m Erik, by the way.  Tony, right?”


“My reputation precedes me, I see.  Nice to meet you.”


“Charles,” the other one introduces.  Charles leans forward, kissing Tony softly, and then they leave, waving.


Tony just grins and settles against the wall, staying there for a bit before he heads back into the crowd.  He gets lost, lets himself be moved and touched and hungered after, hands drifting over his body, mouths pressing to his own, and he doesn’t realize what’s happening until he stumbles and almost falls.  “Shit,” he says, looking around.  Bodies blur past him, and his breath thunders in his ears, his blood running hot as he tries to recall who the last person to kiss him was, and then he’s being led away from the crowd.  He can’t quite gain his footing, and he stumbles again, tripping into the person.


“What did you give him?” a muffled voice asks.


“I thought he could take it,” another voice says, “He’s Tony Stark, all he does is party.”


“Steve,” Tony mumbles, trying to pull away, but his arms are so heavy, he just tugs a little.


“Shut up,” the first one says, herding him farther away from the party.


And then, “Hey!”


Tony forces his head up, and he staggers before he goes down, knees hitting the ground hard.  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Steve demands, hauling one of the people away, which jerks Tony’s arm to the side, and he slumps, groaning.  Johnny takes care of the other one as Steve leans down, pulling Tony to his feet.  “Tony,” he says, hands curling around his face and tilting it up, “Hey, look at me.”  He slaps his cheek lightly, and Tony opens his eyes, trying to focus on his face, but it keeps going in and out.  “Tony,” Steve says again, “Do you know where you are?”


“What?” Tony mumbles, “What’s going on?”


“You assholes, did you drug him?” Steve shouts, rounding on them.


“Balls,” Tony slurs, starting to tip backward, but Johnny grabs him, holding him up as Steve throws a wicked punch.  Johnny leans Tony against the wall and then goes to help him, and Tony just closes his eyes and lifts a hand, though it feels like he’s pulling it through wet concrete.  He drops it against his chest, which is a little tight, and he wants to scream.  He’d been doing so well, working toward getting sober, toward getting away from it all.  He doesn’t want to end up like his father, doesn’t want to get wasted every night and forget what he did the next morning, and now this.


Steve returns suddenly, lifting Tony’s arm around his shoulders and looping one of his around his waist.  “You’re okay,” Steve murmurs, and Tony just lets his head loll in, resting against Steve.  They only make it to the end of the hallway before Tony’s getting heavier, sinking farther into Steve, who swears.  “Can you help me get him onto my back?” Steve says to Johnny, who nods, taking Tony from him.  They carefully maneuver Tony until he’s draped over Steve’s back, and then Steve stands, hooking his elbows under Tony’s knees as Johnny loops his arms around Steve’s neck.


“Will you be okay getting home?” Johnny asks, and Steve nods.


“Yeah, thank you,” Steve says, leaning forward.  Johnny kisses him, smiling when he pulls away.


“See you around, kid,” he says before heading back into the party, and Steve lingers a second longer before shifting Tony’s weight and heading out.




By the time they get back to the room, Tony is out cold, and Steve takes him over to his bed, carefully setting him down.  He sets to work undressing him, tugging down his jeans and tossing them over to Tony’s side before he finds him a shirt and then sits him up, pulling it on.  When he’s done, he changes, pulls his trash over to the side of the bed, and then climbs in behind Tony.


He’s woken up in the morning to the sound of Tony vomiting.  He blinks blearily, reaching out a hand to rub Tony’s back as heaves into the trash.  When he’s done, he rolls back over, shaking.  “What the fuck happened last night?” he asks, dropping his arm over his eyes, “It’s fucking bright out.”


“Someone drugged you,” Steve says, turning onto his side so he can see him better, “How are you feeling?”


“Like I need to puke again,” Tony says before he flings out a hand, pressing down against the bed so he can push himself upright.  He stumbles out, and Steve means to follow him, but he’s so tired, he just ends up falling asleep again.


When Tony comes back from the bathroom, it’s to grab his shower caddy before he’s leaving again, and then, after that, he calls his mom, gets into his own bed, and talks to her until he falls asleep again.




They spend the rest of the week not talking about it.  Steve tries to, once, on Sunday, but Tony just says, “Look, thank you for being there, I’m really fucking grateful to you right now, but I want to pretend it didn’t happen, so we’re just going to move past it, okay?  I’m trying so fucking hard to put that shit behind me, so I don’t want to talk about it.”  Steve nods, letting it go, though he wants to tell Tony how proud of him he is, how much he wants to hug him and let him know he’s there for him, no matter what, if he needs help, but, instead, he just suggests they do yoga, and Tony smiles softly and nods.  Rhodey comes over on Tuesday after one of Tony’s mechanical engineering classes, and they finish up their anatomy project.  The three of them get high and play video games, and Rhodey passes out on the floor, so they leave him there, laughing when he wakes up swearing and groaning.


Wednesday before lunch, Tony and Rhodey show up for lunch grinning and chattering excitedly about how well their presentation went, and then they gang up on Steve because he has introductory anatomy next.  After that, Steve is alone in his room because Tony has one of his mechanical engineering classes until nine.  He spends some time texting Johnny, getting to know him a little, and he sets up plans to hang out this weekend before he’s diving into his homework.


Tony comes in pissed off around nine thirty, slamming the door open and throwing his backpack across the room.  “I hate the absolutely—douche canoes in my fucking class,” he says, ripping out of his jacket, “They are worse than fucking spiders, fucking moron dick biters, I hate them.”


Steve looks over, wide-eyed.  “Everything okay?” he asks.


“No!” Tony yells, kicking his chair, and then he’s whining, hopping up and down on one foot.  “Mother—ass balls, that hurt!”  Steve doesn’t mean to, but he starts laughing.  “Hey!” Tony exclaims, pointing at him, but then he deflates, dropping onto his bed and whining.


“Better?” Steve asks, and he shrugs.


“I dunno, they got me all worked up and now I’m all itchy and tight.  Hey!  Shit, oh my god, light bulb!  Let’s do acroyoga.  Steve, come on, we haven’t done it in so long, we need to practice the routine.  That’s it, we’re doing it,” he continues before Steve can respond, “We’re gonna do yoga, and then stretch out and do acroyoga.”


Steve shrugs.  “Okay,” he says, putting his laptop on his desk and getting up to get changed.


Yoga goes by fairly smoothly.  Tony does another split stand during their split stretches, and Steve swears out loud at him, which makes Tony laugh, which tips him out of the stand.  “You dig it,” he says, and Steve just rolls his eyes.  Tony does some quick stand practice after while Steve stretches out after, and he watches Tony do a series of walkovers before he’s coming to stretch with Steve.


And then, they begin.


It’s been a long, long time since Steve has had his hands on Tony like this, and a shiver runs down his spine as Tony steps in close to him, feet on either side of his stretched knees, toes wiggling and spreading.  “Ready?” he asks, and Steve nods, lifting his arms up, bent at the elbows.  Tony inhales, back bending, and then he comes forward, fingers tangling with Steve’s as he exhales, and then he starts walking in, holding it until Steve nods, and then he kicks up slowly, balanced only by Steve’s hands.


They stay there, coming together until their breaths are aligned, and though Steve’s heart is thudding against his ribs, he feels calm.  “Shelf,” Tony says before he starts to move, and Steve rubs circles into his hands with his thumbs, letting him know he’s there.  Tony goes into the shelf as slowly as he can, and Steve can’t help beaming up at him as Tony lets out a soft laugh.


“Tuck and camel?” Steve asks after a bit, and Tony hums.


Steve brings his legs up as Tony straightens his, and then he’s tucking his knees in against him, slowly coming forward until the bottom of Steve’s feet are resting against his shins, and then he lifts Tony away, who starts to dip back even as Steve straightens his legs.  Tony comes into a camel backbend, and Steve stares up at him, eyes drifting over his body, and Tony’s hard.  He can see the curve of his cock beneath his shorts, and Steve’s breath catches.  He’s wearing the fucking shorts, the ones that barely go to his mid-thigh, and his shirt is falling back as he deepens the bend.


“Steve,” Tony says, and he blinks back to the present, grunting.  “I’m gonna try something.”




Steve tightens his legs, holds them together as Tony’s hands come around, circling his ankles, and then he’s pushing himself upright, legs unfolding out behind him as he balances himself on his hands before he lowers down until Steve’s toes are brushing his sternum.  He lifts backward, reaching for his ankles, pulling himself into a king bow.


“Tony,” Steve says, and then he’s reaching up, tipping him forward as he reaches for his shoulders.


Steve,” Tony says, coming out of bow too fast, his hands snapping forward to curl around Steve’s arms, and then Steve’s dropping his feet out from under Tony, and he hits the floor, one knee smacking against the ground.  “What the fuck, dude?” Tony whines, letting go of him and reaching back to rub at his knee.  Steve knocks his other foot out so his other knee slides down, and Tony jerks his gaze back up to him as his body comes down, straddling Steve.  He swallows, his throat shifting, and he stares at Steve, not breathing.  “Steve?”


“I am sick and tired of this bullshit between us,” Steve says, “I want to fuck you.”


Tony blinks, digests what Steve just said, and then he’s curving down, mouth fitting against Steve’s as he grinds down into his lap, rubbing their cocks together.  Steve groans, hands coming up to press Tony closer, one sliding down to his ass and squeezing, the other fisting in his hair.  He opens to Tony, letting him lick in and taste him.  Tony moves his hips in quick, fluid rolls, his breath filling Steve’s mouth as they kiss, long and hard, but it’s not enough, not fucking enough, and so Steve squirms a hand beneath Tony’s yoga shorts, nails scraping over his ass.  Tony moans, breaking away to kiss down Steve’s jaw and to his neck.


“Too many fucking clothes,” Tony says suddenly, and then he’s pulling Steve’s hand from his pants and rolling off of him.  He reaches for the back of his shirt, yanking it over his head.  Steve quickly does the same before he’s pinning Tony to the ground, kissing his mouth until it’s swollen and red, and then he drags his teeth along his bottom lip, grinning when Tony whines, trying to press closer.  One of his hands comes up to curl around, pressing between Steve’s shoulder blades, pushing him back down even as the other flips, and Steve barely has a second to register what he’s doing before he’s dipping under the hem of his pants and cupping Steve’s cock, nothing separating him from Tony’s hand.  Steve gasps, pressing the noise into Tony’s open mouth, letting him swallow it down as his wrist twists, and then he’s pulling Steve free, other hand coming down to shove his pants away.


Tony squeezes up his cock, thumb pressing over the head, and Steve’s hips twitch forward as he breaks from their kiss, dropping his head to Tony’s shoulder.  “Tony,” he groans when Tony slides his hand in slow, long pulls, ruts up against him so that his cock rubs against Steve’s thigh, still hidden beneath his shorts.  He needs him naked now.


Reluctantly, Steve pulls away, sitting back on his heels, and he starts to reach for Tony’s shorts to pull them down when he sees them—long, faded scars lining the insides of his thighs.  “Tony,” he says, one of his hands drifting forward, and Tony whines when Steve’s thumb swipes over one of them.


“Stop fucking teasing,” Tony says, pushing at him with one of his feet, and he looks down the plane of his body at Steve, and then freezes.  “No,” he says because he recognizes that expression, has seen it plenty before.


“Tony,” Steve says again, still staring down at the scars, trying to pretend he doesn’t know what they are.


“Don’t ask,” Tony says, shaking his head, “Please don’t ask.  Steve,” he pleads when Steve continues to stare.


“What are these?” Steve asks, lifting his gaze to Tony.


“Nothing,” Tony says adamantly, “Come back here.”


“Tony, what are these?” he repeats.


“Steve,” Tony says, reaching for him, but Steve leans out of his grasp.


“Are these from high school?”  And, just like that, it’s over.


Tony kicks him hard, foot swinging around until it bangs off Steve’s thigh, and he shouts, jumping in surprise.  Tony pushes away from him, getting to his feet and storming over to his dresser.  He yanks off his shorts, and Steve stares as his ass is revealed, just there, but then Tony’s stepping into a pair of sweats and turning.  “Put your fucking cock away,” he mutters before he reaches for his shirt.


Steve slowly stands, fixing his pants, but he’s frowning as he turns to Tony.  “Did you try to kill yourself?”


He never thinks of what that might do to Tony, but, suddenly, Tony’s whirling around, fist sailing through the air, landing, well-aimed, in Steve’s groin, and Steve’s shout dies halfway as he drops.  “I am done with you!” Tony screams, yanking on his shirt, “If you touch me again, I will put you in the fucking ground!”  He yanks on a pair of shoes, grabs his jacket, and spits, “We are done!”


Steve just groans and folds over, head hitting the ground.  The door slams, and Tony is gone.




Betty looks over when the door bangs open, and Bruce’s brow furrows as Tony comes in still putting on his jacket.  “I am going to fucking murder him,” he seethes, shoving his arm into the other sleeve.


“What happened?” Betty asks, frowning.


“I punched him in the fucking dick.”  And then he’s gone, thundering back out.  When he erupts into the chilly air, he pounds down the front steps and then skips into a jog, taking a sharp turn and heading for the gym.


When he gets there, he’s more furious than when he left, and he keys himself in, stomps past the front desk toward the changing rooms, and throws the door open.  He pulls open a locker, yanks off his jacket, and starts to throw it in when the door opens, and in walks Johnny.


Thor is behind him, talking his ear off about different styles of weight lifting, and Johnny’s not listening, though he quirks an eyebrow when he catches Tony looking at him.  “Shut up, Thor,” Johnny says before he comes over, leaning against the lockers.  “How are you feeling?” he asks, and Tony frowns.  “Right, you may not remember me.  You were kind of under the weather.”


“Saturday night?” Tony asks, and Johnny nods.  “Huh,” Tony says, pulling his bottom lip in to scrape his teeth over it.  He grins, a little feral, when Johnny’s gaze darts to his mouth.  “You slept with my roommate, Steve.”


“Tony,” Johnny says, eyes flicking back up to meet his, “Oh, I have heard quite a bit about you.  What are you doing later today?”


“I’d rather be doing you right now,” Tony says, closing his locker and turning away toward the bathrooms.


“Jesus fuck,” he says, looking over at Thor, “You really weren’t kidding.”


“You lucky son of a bitch,” Thor groans, watching Tony, “He’s easily one of the best lays I’ve ever had.”


Johnny just smirks wickedly and says, “I’ll catch up with you later, then,” before he follows Tony into the bathroom.


Tony is waiting, leaning against the wall when he rounds the corner, and he darts a hand out, fingers circling Johnny’s wrist before he tugs him into a stall, crowding him against the wall.  He kisses Johnny before he can speak, hands coming down to tug at his gym shorts, and they drop to the ground before Tony does, nosing at Johnny’s slowly filling cock before he takes it in his mouth, and he works him until Johnny’s breaths are coming hard, his fingers tight in Tony’s hair, and then he pulls off, grinning up at Johnny.


He stands again, licking into his mouth, and Johnny groans, nails scraping against his scalp.  When they pull apart, he grits his teeth before he says, “I don’t have a condom.”


“I don’t care,” Tony says, “You clean?”


“As far as I know, yes,” Johnny says, and then Tony’s hooking his thumbs in his own pants and pushing them down.


“You’re topping,” he says before he turns, bracing his hands against the walls, and Johnny just sighs and reaches a hand to squeeze Tony’s ass.


“With that ass, yes I fucking am,” Johnny says before he’s leaning forward, cock rubbing against Tony’s ass, and he wiggles his fingers before Tony turns his head and takes them in his mouth, sucking, tongue swirling around until Johnny’s rocking against him, and then he gives them a little push.


Johnny tries to go easy, slides the first finger in slowly, but Tony grunts and says, “I won’t fucking break.  Stretch me, and let’s go.”




“You’re taking too long to get your cock in my ass,” he snaps, looking back at Johnny, who just grins and shrugs, thrusting another finger in.  Tony gasps, jerking forward, and it’s a little painful, but it lets him know how real this is, how sober he is, how violently furious he is.


Johnny fucks him fast and hard, hips slapping against Tony’s ass until he’s sure a blush is rising on his skin, fingers bruising his waist where they’re pinned, and it feels amazing.  Tony can’t remember the last time someone slid inside him like this, with nothing between them, though he thinks it may have been Luke closer to the beginning.  Johnny’s got a beautiful cock, too, thick and long, and he fills Tony on every thrust, the head rubbing over his prostate until he’s biting his fist to muffle his sounds, drawing blood over his knuckles.  He’s going to hurt later, but it’s exactly what he wants.


Johnny leans forward, mouthing down Tony’s spine, and Tony swallows a shout at the way that stirs something inside of him, something deep and carnal.  He takes a hand away from the wall, moving the other one over so he’s balanced, and he fists his hand over his cock, jerking himself in time with Johnny’s angry thrusts.  “Tony,” Johnny presses his name into his back, “Fuck, I’m close.”


“Yeah?” Tony says, a little hoarse.  Warmth pools in his belly, and he quickens his pulls, wrist flicking so that his thumb swipes up over the slit, making him shudder.


The door to the changing room bangs open, and a shout follows, “In the bathroom, really?  What the fuck is wrong with you?”


Tony digs his thumb in under the crown, and he feels a low tug as he tightens around Johnny’s cock, and he chases his orgasm, grunting when Johnny shifts, thrusting shallowly, barely coming out, pressing deep inside of him until Tony’s coming undone, cock throbbing in his hand as he comes over the wall, ass clenching spasmodically around Johnny, and it pulls him over.


A fist comes down on the stall door angrily.  “Get out!”


Tony tips his head back, hand slowing until he pulls away, and though some of the tightness is gone from his body, he still feels revved up, like he could run a fucking marathon.  He steps away from Johnny, gasping when his dick slides out of him, and Johnny sinks back against the wall, eyes closing.  “I’m not done with you,” Tony says before he pulls up his pants, yanks open the door, and delivers a punch that his hand is going to feel in the morning.


The man sent to scold them goes down, though, unconscious before he hits the ground, and Tony shrugs, turning back to Johnny.  “Is your place far?” he asks, and Johnny shakes his head, grinning.


“You,” he says, pointing at Tony, “You are fucking amazing.”


“I know,” Tony says before he steps over the fallen body and heads for the changing rooms.  Johnny grabs his things, and then they head out.




“Come in!” Steve calls.


The door opens, admitting Betty.  “Hey,” she says cautiously, coming over, “Mind if I sit down?”


“Yeah, go ahead,” Steve says, pulling his knees up so that she has room, “I assume Tony’s been by.”


“How’s your dick?” she asks, and Steve lets out a hollow laugh, shaking his head.


“Fucking hurts,” he says, “I think I kind of deserved it, though I’m finding it really hard not to hate him right now.”


“Understandable.”  Betty sighs, and then she reaches out a hand, taking Steve’s.  “Sweetheart, I know you don’t want to hear this,” she says, looking down at their hands, “But I think maybe you should just call it quits with Tony.  It never turns out well, and I think, for everyone’s safety and sanity, this should be the end.”


“I know,” Steve says, and Betty looks up.


“I’m sorry.”  Steve shrugs one shoulder, looking away from her.  He doesn’t want this to happen.  He’s so furious with himself for ruining what might finally have been their chance, and now he doesn’t think he’ll ever be anything but casual friends with Tony, if that.


“Steve,” Betty says softly, and she waits for him to look back over before she releases his hand, “I know it sucks, but—hey, maybe you can work things out with Bucky now.”


Steve nods, trying for a smile.  “Yeah, maybe,” he says, “Thank you, Betty.”


“Are you gonna be okay?”




“Alright.  If you need anything, I’m right down the hall,” she says before patting his knee and then getting up.


When she’s gone, Steve sits there for a few moments before picking up his phone.  He waits and waits as it rings, and then, it’s like a missing piece of him slides into place when he finally answers, “Steve?”


“Bucky, hey,” he says, smiling.




Fuck,” Tony groans, rolling over onto his back.


“I second that,” Johnny says, and then he lifts a hand, and Tony laughs, high fiving him.  They lie together in silence for a while until Johnny rolls up onto his elbow, hand coming out to trace patterns along Tony’s side.  “Okay, this is probably way off base because this is technically the first time I’ve ever spoken to you,” he says, “But you seem like a really cool guy, and I’m totally cool, as well, and I think we should be mutually cool together.”


“Did you just ask me to be your boyfriend by using the word cool?” Tony asks, quirking an eyebrow.


“I may have, unless that was too surfer dude for you, and then I’ll reel it back in.”


Tony hums, mulling it over.  Since their first kiss, it’s all he’s wanted with Steve, and though Johnny is nothing like him, he’s incredible in bed, and he’s vastly interesting, from what Tony’s gathered in their lulling moments in between fucking like Armageddon is around the corner.


“Yeah, okay,” Tony says, smiling, “You should know, I’m an octopus.”


“Human furnace, so maybe not,” Johnny says, and Tony just laughs before stretching and getting up.


“I’m gonna shower.  I’ll suck your dick if you give me a massage later,” Tony says.


Johnny slaps a hand against the bed.  “Deal.”


He follows Tony, coming up behind him and looping his arms around his waist, dropping a kiss to his shoulder.  Tony smiles easily, reaching up to kiss Johnny’s cheek before he releases him, and they go into the shower.




Steve doesn’t see Tony until Friday, though there are signs of him coming and going in the room.  Friday afternoon, just before three, the door opens, and Tony comes in.  “Shut up,” he says, pointing to Steve without looking at him.  He goes across the room, dumping his backpack on his bed.


“No,” Steve says, turning in his chair, “We need to talk about this.”


“Okay,” Tony says, facing him, “Let me give you the lowdown.  There is nothing going on between us now.  I am sick of being tossed around.  I understood last semester when you were still trying to figure shit out, but now, not only have you come out, you’ve been with multiple different men, and I really thought something was going to happen.  I want to be in a relationship with you.  I’m sick of screwing around.  I am exhausted, and I’m trying to take care of all of the shit I have going on.  Clearly, this isn’t going to work, so I’m done.  We are friends, and that’s it.  Right now, though, I’m having a really hard time not chewing you out, so I’m going to stay at my boyfriend’s for the weekend, and I’ll be back on Monday, and we can just put this behind us and move on.”


“Are you fucking kidding me?” Steve says, shaking his head in disbelief, “You’re seriously going back to Luke?”


Tony barks out a laugh, turning away and emptying out his backpack.  “I wouldn’t go back to Luke if he turned into Brad Pitt.  No, I’ll be at Johnny’s.”  Steve chokes, and Tony shrugs.  He goes to his dresser, taking out clothes as he continues, “Get over it because it’s happening.  I know you slept with him, and he knows that you’re my roommate, and, you know what, good for you because he’s fucking incredible in bed.”  Tony leaves his dresser after he’s tossed various clothes on his bed, and he goes over to his desk, getting what he needs for homework.


“So, what?” Steve says, “You met him, fucked him, and now you’re dating him?”


“Funny how that happens, yes,” Tony says, straightening and looking over at Steve, “Even after only a few days, he treats me better than a single fucking person I have had any form of sex with since I started here.  Not only that, he’s attractive, interesting, and actually gives a fuck about what I think, so excuse me if I’m going to take a chance at something I want instead of waiting for you to figure your sorry ass out.  I don’t want to fight with you anymore, Steve, and it looks like this is the only way we can actually be friends.”


Steve doesn’t respond, and so Tony finishes gathering his school things, grabs his meds, and then stuffs everything in his backpack.  “I’ll have my phone if you need me, but please don’t,” he says before he leaves, and Steve just watches him go, feeling like a hole has been opened up inside of him.