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Leaving Tony might just be the worst thing he's ever done.
Memories of the fight haunt him day and night. Memories of the anger in Tony's face when he found out the secret Steve had hidden from him, the hurt caused by Steve's betrayal. The fear in Tony's eyes just a second before Steve sank his shield into the armor's arc reactor.
Steve knows he's broken Tony's heart that day. Similarly, leaving Tony has left a hole in his own heart, a void that he knows nothing will ever be able to fill.
It always felt right to love Tony. Falling in love with him was as inescapable as the pull of gravity, as easy as breathing. Tony made him happy and Tony drove him crazy and Tony challenged him to think differently and Tony completed him like a puzzle piece Steve never even knew he was missing. They kissed and they fought and they talked and they spent nights in each other's arms and Steve couldn't have asked for anything better.
Steve doesn't regret having refused to sign the Accords, doesn't regret coming to Wakanda. More importantly, he'll never regret saving Bucky. But he can't stop wondering if everything would be different right now if he had made a single different decision. If he hadn't kept secrets from Tony. If he hadn't lost Tony's trust. If maybe, had he been honest with Tony from the beginning, Tony would be here with him now.
Steve knows Tony would love Wakanda. Everywhere he goes, every new thing he sees and learns reminds him of Tony, makes him think about how happy Tony would be here. There's an ache deep in his chest every time he thinks about it.
Staying away from Tony feels unbearable.
The date on the flip phone screen reads December 24th. Steve stares at the single name on the contacts list — Tony Stark — and wonders what he's doing. If he's okay or not. If he's alone or not. It's what Steve does now, every single night.
Every night he lets his thumb rest on the call button, tells himself to press it, tells himself that he can do this, he can talk to Tony again. The thought that Tony might not pick it up — that Tony might have even thrown the phone away — stops him every time. Tony might never forgive him. The damage Steve's caused might be too big to be repaired. Tony could be with someone else now, too busy to even think about Steve.
He thinks that finding out his suspicions are true would be worse than not knowing.
Taking a deep breath, Steve closes his flip phone carefully, places it on his nightstand like he does every night, and gets into bed, knowing that falling asleep will be a difficult task tonight.
He checks the phone first thing when he wakes up the next day. It's part of his routine by now, something he's been doing ever since he sent Tony that package.
Every morning he wakes up to a phone with zero missed calls and zero unread messages.
Every morning his heart breaks a little more.
It doesn't feel like Christmas at all, and it's not just because Wakandans don't celebrate it. Steve thinks he'd feel the same way even if he was surrounded by Christmas trees and decorations. He misses Tony's trees with sparkly ornaments and colorful lights. He misses Tony's ugly sweaters and Tony's favorite Christmas movies. He misses kissing Tony under the mistletoe.
He misses Tony, plain and simple. Everything about him.
It doesn't matter how much Steve tries to hide it, his friends notice. Over breakfast that morning, he hears every possible variation of “you should call him,” and “at least text him,” and “I'm sure he misses you too” from Bucky and Sam. That is, until Natasha interrupts them.
“Just go see him,” she says, and Steve would think she's joking if she wasn't looking him dead in the eye.
“No, that's not safe,” Bucky says. “Steve could get caught.”
“It's a risk,” Sam agrees. “But I'm sure we could find a way, if you wanted to,” he adds, looking at Steve.
“No, I— I can't,” Steve says, shaking his head. He's fantasized about seeing Tony again many times, but the idea of actually doing it is terrifying. It's stupid, but he wonders what Tony would think of him now, if Tony would like the way he looks with facial hair or if he would hate it, if Tony would be happy to see him or tell him to go away, if Tony would kiss him or attack him with a repulsor blast.
Natasha grabs his hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, bringing him back to the present. “Look, I know you think he doesn't want to see you, but Stark is crazy about you. He's been in love with you since he met you. I'm sure this can still be fixed.”
Steve nods, not entirely convinced. “I'll text him.”
He's not that sure that Tony still loves him, but he tells himself he will no longer let his fears and insecurities get the best of him.
He promises to himself that he will text Tony tonight.
The flip phone sits on Steve's nightstand that evening while he showers. When he gets out, still toweling his hair, he decides that it's finally time to stop being a coward.
Merry Christmas, Tony, he types into the phone, then presses send. He thinks that maybe he should've said more. Maybe he should send one more text, this time saying I'm sorry.
The phone buzzes with a new text message alert before he can make up his mind about it, his heart skipping a beat as he opens it.
On the screen, there are only three words: Merry Christmas, Cap.
This is it, Steve tells himself, his heart pounding, threatening to burst out of his chest with happiness and fear and anticipation and hope. He has the phone pressed against his ear, dialing Tony's number before he even sits down on the edge of his bed.
It rings twice before Tony picks up. And then—
“Hey, Cap.”
Steve's breath trembles out of him, tears welling up in his eyes. “Tony,” he says, choked up.
“Hey, Steve?” Tony says, his voice is softer now. “Are you alright?”
“I need to see you,” Steve blurts out before he can stop himself, before he can think about it. “Just— I really need to see you, Tony, now. Please.”
Tony sighs. “Look, Cap, I'm not sure that—”
“Please,” Steve repeats, and he doesn't care if he sounds desperate, he doesn't care if Tony finds out how much of a mess he's been this whole time. He said in the letter that he'd be there if Tony needed him. But this entire time, it was him who needed Tony. Who couldn't live without him. “I need to talk to you, Tony, I need to—”
He needs to apologize. He needs to make it up to Tony. He needs to fix this, whatever it takes.
“Is there a safe place where I can meet you?” Steve insists when Tony stays silent. “I'll go anywhere, I'll do anything you want. Please.”
For a terrifying moment, Tony doesn't say anything. Then he sighs again, but somehow it's softer now. Somehow, Steve's getting a second chance.
“Well, I recently bought a lake house,” Tony says. “How's that sound to you?”
Steve smiles, holding back tears. He thinks maybe Tony can hear it in his voice when he answers. “Perfect. That's perfect, Tony.”
Tony's lake house definitely seems safe enough for them to meet, and Steve finds that he's not at all afraid of getting caught. Right now, his only fear is rejection. His only fear is losing Tony for good. It's a cold night, and sometimes Steve still has trouble with those, but this time his hands are shaking for an entirely different reason. Steve steps on the porch and knocks on the door with a racing heartbeat.
“Get in,” Tony says when he opens the door, closing it again as soon as Steve steps inside, and just like that it hits him just how much Tony cares for his safety too.
And then Tony looks at him, really looks, his gaze lingering on the full beard on Steve's face before meeting Steve's eyes again.
“Tony,” Steve says, half relieved and half terrified, before Tony can say anything. “God, I thought you'd never want to see me again.”
Tony offers him a small smile, so sad it breaks Steve's heart. “I didn't, at first.”
Steve reaches for him, desperate to touch him again. Tony looks so cozy in his black woolen sweater, so warm, so familiar Steve selfishly wants nothing more than to spend the night in his arms. But he catches himself and stops mid-air, closing his hand in a fist, unsure if Tony would welcome his touch or not. “Tony—” Steve says, his chest heavy again with fear and guilt. “I'm so sorry I left you, I—”
Tony's eyes flicker from Steve's hand to his face again. “You think I'm upset with you for leaving? God, Steve— I wanted to help. I would've helped you escape. Both of you.”
“I know,” Steve says, his throat burning with the effort not to cry.
“You already knew it when we started dating, didn't you?” Tony asks, and there's so much pain in his eyes now. “About the Winter Soldier… and my parents.”
Steve opens his mouth to speak, but Tony keeps talking like he already knows the answer. “You could've told me.”
Steve is crying now despite his efforts, his vision blurred by tears that run down his face and disappear into his beard. “I didn't want to hurt you. I didn't— I didn't want to be the one to tell you something like that.”
“I know,” Tony says. He breathes in, then breathes out slowly, and then his expression softens. “I know,” he repeats, and now his voice is softer too.
“Please, Tony—” Steve says, daring to reach for Tony again, and this time, Tony grabs his hand before Steve can change his mind.
Without a word, Tony pulls him closer, and Steve steps forward to wrap his arms around him. “Tony,” he says again, his voice barely a whisper. Saying Tony's name grounds him, reminds him that this is real, that Tony's here, that the man he loves still loves him back.
And then Tony wraps his arms around his neck and pulls him down for a kiss.
It's slow, softer than he expected it to be. It hurts and it heals and it's everything Steve needs right now. This is where he belongs. In Tony's arms, just like this. This is his home. Tony has always been his home.
Steve rests his forehead against Tony's when they part, and his voice trembles out of him as he tries to stop crying, as he tries to breathe against the tightness in his chest. “Please, Tony, I can't do this anymore, I can't live without you, please tell me what I need to do for you to forgive me, I—”
Tony's lips curve in the softest smile. “You just did it. You took the risk of coming here to see me. I didn't think you would. I didn't expect—”
“I'd do anything for you, Tony,” Steve says in a heartbeat. Then he moves, putting just enough distance between them that Tony's face isn't out of focus anymore. “Anything.”
“Never keep secrets from me again,” Tony says, his eyes wet with tears, and Steve wants to kiss them all away. “Promise me.”
“Never, Tony,” Steve says. “I promise.”
“Okay.” Tony nods, and Steve thinks he must be dreaming when Tony's fingers bury themselves in his hair, as Tony pulls him in again and joins their lips.
It's more heated now, deeper, and it makes Steve's heart beat faster, makes him hot all over, the way Tony's tongue explores his mouth, the way Tony tugs at his hair when Steve holds him tighter, the way Tony breathes heavily against his lips when they part again.
“I'm sorry too, you know,” Tony says. “For the way I reacted when I found out the truth. I shouldn't have attacked you like that.”
“Tony, you—” Steve shakes his head. “You had every reason to. I couldn't stop thinking about the way I left. The way I broke your suit, the way I—” He takes in a shaky breath, closing his eyes in an attempt to stop more tears from coming.
Tony's hand cups Steve's cheek. Soft, loving. “Steve…”
“I never want to leave you again, Tony,” Steve says when their eyes meet again. “But you know I can't stay. Not now. Not yet, I—”
“I know,” Tony says, his fingers slowly caressing Steve's beard. “That's okay. But do you think you can stay for just one night?”
Steve's lips curve up in a smile. “I was hoping you'd ask me to.”
And he lets Tony lead him to the bedroom.
“What if I just keep you hidden in here, huh?” Tony asks playfully as he pushes a half naked Steve down onto his bed. “No one will ever find out."
“Sounds like a great plan, yeah,” Steve says, pulling Tony with him and wrapping his legs around him, grinding their hips together despite the layers of clothing still between them.
Tony groans against his lips, his fingers finding Steve's hair again, grabbing and tugging to make Steve expose his neck to him, his hot mouth covering Steve's throat in open-mouthed kisses that send shivers down Steve's body.
“I love your hair like this. Perfect length for pulling,” Tony says, still covering Steve's neck in love bites, making his back arch and his goes curl. “I'll never let you cut it again. Or shave off the beard,” Tony adds, his lips softly brushing against Steve's jaw as he speaks.
Steve smiles, tilting his head to stare into those beautiful brown eyes he loves more than life itself.
“Anything, Tony,” he says. “Anything for you.”