Work Text:
Tony in his whole career, his whole life, figured himself out pretty well. Knew what worked for him, what was right for himself, what his strengths were. He was a performer— not like how wrestlers were, but he played a part, he knew that, and he played it well. He knew where the part, the persona ended, and where his personal life began, his real self tucked away safely while he worked, feelings spared as it was all just business.
And then William fucking Regal showed up.
Tony knew his part— knew his role, in segments like this. An interview, an in ring interview, he’d be lucky to get three words in. That was how it worked, he knew that, and hell, with half the roster, he was lucky when no one bothered to make a jab at him and only talked over him. That was the bit. He knew that. He was expecting Regal to do just that, to give Tony nothing more than a 'thanks' at best, a backhanded compliment at worst.
He was not expecting "sweetheart". He wasn't expecting his throat to tighten up, to hear his pulse in his ears. He played it off, best he could— William was an old friend, an old colleague— it was a little English charm, nothing that should surprise Tony. And it didn't, he decided, when he could finally step back, slip away.
It excited him.
It excited him all the more when William tracked him down after, later in the night but before things and people got delirious. His suit jacket slung over his arm, hesitating into a smile.
"Lovely seeing you again," Regal said, performance dropped. It was a pleasantry, sure, but the little smile was earnest. Trying to wave a flag of his true feelings, show Tony he meant it.
"Sure was," Tony replied, smiling back not in kind but kindly. He didn't want to risk his face, his voice, betraying him or putting himself out so far he couldn't take it back.
"Why not catch up?" William asked, giving the lightest punch to Tony's shoulder. "have some drinks— nothing crazy like back in the day— just us?"
William kept that hand on Tony, opening his fingers and grabbing his shoulder, waiting for an answer.
Fuck, it wasn't just him.
Tony smiled, shrugged, tried to shrug off the other man's hand. "I'm not young like I used to be, I— I've gotta get myself to bed." When William didn't move his hand, Tony picked it up for him and, stupidly, held onto it between them. "Another time, William."
A smile, just pleasantries. "Right."
Knowing himself, and all that, the only surprise that it was… at work, really. That there was some familiarity to that excitement, that it wasn't completely new. Sitting with it a moment, clearing his head, Tony figured it was simply about time.
He'd always known. He was married, with kids, grandkids, but— he knew. As a young man, his literal job to- to look at other men, was something of a dream. Not that he didn't have the same enjoyment and appreciation of women, but loving men felt so… private. Something solely his, that he kept away from work, kept tucked away secret, safe from- from anything.
His wife knew, some. He never really knew if she took it seriously, couldn't decide if he wanted her to, if he wanted to let her in more than a mutual enjoyment— birdwatching. When he stopped turning the interaction over in his head, when he settled down the dust of excitement and saw the shape of how it made him feel, he told her. Told his wife before he'd even made it home. He knew where he stood, all his likely outcomes. He told Lois. He told Lois while he was still wondering if he'd come back to an empty house. She'd gotten on with his attraction over the years, sure, but this felt different. This was real. tangible, in his face— he had to let her know as soon as possible, it would be better to blow it up now, rather than later. Always now, never later.
Everything was as he left it. His wife, his dog, happy to see him in his home. He went to unpack right away like always, walking like the floor was a bounce house, unbalanced and uneven.
Usually, life would get back to normal. Lois would leave him alone until dinner, ask about her favourites while they ate, fill him in on neighbourhood gossip, ask about Britt over dessert.
Today, she hovered in the bedroom doorway, watching him open his suitcase.
"Tony," she said, his back to her.
He didn't say anything, just pulled clothes out, tossed them into the hamper.
"...you kinda turned him down," she said.
"I know," he said, lifting out a dress shirt. "It's practically nothing, but I didn't want you to think I was hiding it from you."
she stayed leaning against the doorway, Tony keeping his back to her, head down. it was the best he could've asked for.
"No," Lois said, stepping forward, sitting on the edge of the bed, their bed. "I'm saying, you could've taken him up on it."
Tony stood up straight. stared at her— at his wife. "No," he said, "I couldn't. I’m married— married to you!"
She smiled the same way all her life. Her face moved the same way every single time, except one day her eyes crinkled into crows feet when they didn't before. it always made Tony want to smile back— infectious, even now.
"I'm not a man," she said.
"Lois…" Tony said, slow.
"i know you," she said, "I know what you want, and I think—"
"I want things to be normal— to be stable."
"And we are!" she straightened her back, leaned away. Swallowed, like she was getting her thoughts in order. "You told me that to be transparent, and I'm glad for that, because it gave me time to think." She reached over, fiddled with the zipper on his suitcase. "We've been there, done that. Know each other every which way, and— we built our lives together. Built a home." Tony stared at her lap, her hands, her wedding ring. "I wanna see you discover this side of you. You… you know you like men, and you never got to do more than just know that, and I…" she trailed off, collecting her thoughts again.
Tony slipped his hand over to hers, and she held it. perfect fit.
"i'll always be home for you," she said, "you can always come home, I promise."
Tony nodded, squeezed her hand. something new, uncharted— it was about time.