Chapter Text
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Steve woke up around eight with Tony beside him. For Tony, it was early, but for Steve, eight AM was a lie-in.
He dressed to go running and made toast for breakfast, half of it set by Tony's bedside and smothered in Nutella, before he went out. There was a few other joggers by the beach but that was it and they paid him no heed. The sun was up and the breeze was nice and cool. Steve relished it.
Just as hunger made food taste better, his brief foray as HYDRA's captive had made him appreciate his freedom. Or at least, what passed for freedom. He still had the ankle monitor that SHIELD had put on him.
He got home around nine to find Aria sitting at the breakfast bar in the kitchen. She was nibbling on a bagel and reading the news on her tablet. "Hey, been running?" she asked with a bright smile.
Steve nodded, going to get a glass of water. "What's up? It's early."
"So... I was thinking about, like-- do you want to get a job?" Aria asked and Steve blinked. "Because you did kind of get fired..."
"Yeah," Steve hummed, "I did. But I don't really think I can do a nine till five, Aria."
"Well, I've gotten a few offers," she said, scrolling through her emails. "A lot of charities want you was a patron but with project eighty-four you're have gonna have enough on your plate soon enough. Let's see... erm... oh! There it is! Vogue's releasing a new omega clothes line and they want you to model for it! Isn't that cool?"
"You want me to... model?" Steve asked, raising a brow.
"Let's be honest, Steve. Like the whole world wants you to model; you're human perfection. And they'll pay you like crazy, and it will give the 'omega fashion industry a new direction'," she said, making quotation marks in the air with her fingers.
"I'll think about it," Steve promised her as he went to grab an apple and then moved to the seat next to her. "But I think I just need to focus on me and Tony right now. And I played dress-up and was put on the display back in the forties and didn't like it much. And... well, Tony."
Tony woke up alone, in bed. There was a plate of toast next to the bed.
He groaned weakly and got up to shower and shave, leaving the breakfast offering where it was. He threw on a pair of boxers and a t-shirt before heading downstairs; Aria and Steve were chatting, and Tony caught the last bit of their conversation.
"...did you said they want Steve to model?" asked Tony, with a laugh. "That's ridiculous."
"...why is that ridiculous?" asked Aria, eyes narrowing.
"Don't get be wrong, Steve has an incredible body. I mean, he's drop-dead gorgeous. But he doesn't look like an omega. How's he supposed to model omega clothes for omegas when he's like six feet tall and two hundred pounds?"
"Omegas come in all shapes and sizes," said Aria defensively.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," said Tony, waving a hand. He sidled up next to Steve, pressing their arms together, and reached down to scratch at his ankle monitor.
Tony had taken the liberty of trying to track Steve's whereabouts the previous day, eaten alive with curiosity. But the GPS had pointed him to the middle-of-nowhere, Montana, and he was forced to conclude that Natasha had probably redirected the ankle bracelet to hide his location. Tricky, tricky. Tony begrudgingly liked Natasha's little spy tricks.
"So what's The Alpha have to say? There was a very unflattering piece in the Ace Sentinel about how it's not Steve's fault he's so out of control, obviously I'm a terrible Alpha with no real control over him and it's sad that I'm not reining him in."
"Reining me in?" Steve echoed, evidently amused at the idea. "That's cute."
"Well, The Alpha thinks omegas like Steve just needed putting in their place," Aria said. "I won't go into the details, but I'm sure you can imagine. The article was actually pretty sympathetic towards you, Tony."
"Finally! Some sympathy!" exclaimed Tony. Aria glared at him and he added quickly, "...not that I deserve it."
"You read that piece of garbage?" asked Aria.
"Yeah, I like the quizzes. Turns out my spirit color is orange. I would've guessed red, but whatever."
"They want him to do the modeling gig with this female plus-size actress and a skinny guy who's an athlete swimmer, I think. All big omega names. It's about challenging physical omega stereotypes," Aria said, tapping away on her tablet without looking. "I think it's worth considering."
Steve let his fingers brush against Tony's as the other moved close. He really needed a shower after his run.
"Do you think we should do anything about the negative press, or just ride it out?" Steve asked.
Aria cleared her throat. "You guys have been offered an interview. A joint one. Banksy has also offered and we know he's on our side, what with his involvement in Status Alliance. But I didn't know if you wanted to. You guys need space; I'm not going to shove you out there if you're not ready. I've literally only come around to run a few things by you and then I'll be out of your hair."
Tony looked to Steve at Aria's mention of yet more interviews. "...there's nothing more to say, is there? I pushed Steve away because I was insecure about all the... all the bullshit expectations of dominance that's shoved down Alphas' throats our whole lives, and because of me, Steve was put in danger. And him getting... getting bonded by someone else, it opened my fucking eyes. I don't care if I'm some macho, swaggering jock. I'm Tony goddamn Stark and all I care about is that I'm with Steve and that he's alive and safe and happy. Don't really care if he's obedient or if people think we're weird 'cause he's taller than me. Like you said, challenging stereotypes and blah blah blah. People who get it, get it. But we could give a thousand interviews and there will still be dicks like Malick who think Steve oughta be reined in."
Aria frowned a little. "It's not just Alphas. That's part of why Banksy wanted to speak to you, along with Tony and Irshad Nazari... you know, the UN rep for the World Omega Rights Council. There's plenty of omegas who have been brainwashed into believing that they need Alphas to take care of them. Steve showing himself to be stronger than that... it's not just for Alphas. It's for all the omegas out there who didn't know they could exist without Alphas."
Tony looked over at Steve, chewing on his lip. "Well, if Steve wants to, I'm game." He leaned in to nuzzle Steve's neck. Steve smelled strongly from his run... not bad, just Steve-like. Except that Steve still smelled different. Tony felt a sharp pang in his heart and winced a little, knowing Steve probably felt it, too. "Sorry," he muttered. "Still getting used to it."
"I'm okay for the moment. I don't want to go on TV, not right now," Steve said as he leaned into Tony's touch. He felt the tightness in his chest and then he realized it wasn't his own. But he managed not to feel guilty about it this time. "I'm kind of sick of defending myself, if I'm honest. I don't have anything new to say. Anyways, I should go shower," Steve breathed, offering Tony a small smile to let him know it was okay. He reached out to squeeze his fingers.
"Oh. And Malick sent Tony this," Aria said and chucked an envelope across the table. It was personalized stationery. "Well, he sent it to me, or rather Steve's formal posting address, so I would pass it on to Steve but addressed it to Tony so he's clearly just being a dick." She waved a hand. "I have no idea what it is. I haven't received any complaints from the World Security Council or anything."
Steve stared down at the envelope curiously then looked back up at Aria."If it's possible I'd love to meet up with Irshad. But I think she can say everything I'd say on air and more. She was very impressive when I met her before."
"Oh my moms love her to pieces," Aria hummed, finishing her espresso. "Right. Let me know if you chance your mind about interviews, or modelling; I'll just try and keep the shit storm at bay so you guys can enjoy your quiet time."
"Thank you Aria," Steve said. "For everything."
Aria shrugged and stuck a cigarette between his lips. "It's my pleasure, Steve. Genuinely."
Tony squeezed Steve's fingers back, then offered him the letter. "You can open it. Just in case it's booby-trapped or something. ...and don't smoke in the house, you know I hate that smell." He plucked the cigarette from Steve's lips and tucked it behind his ear.
Steve opened the letter and frowned. "It's... are these tickets? For Tony Stark plus one?" He dropped them on the table, not knowing what they were for.
Tony barely glanced at the tickets on the table. He got invited to conferences all the time. Bor-ing.
"Y'know, maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to just do one tiny little interview, y'know, with Banksy and Irshad, to tell omegas to be their own people and not listen to asshole Alphas and stuff. Y'know. Little... morale boost," ventured Tony thoughtfully. He didn't add that he found both Banksy and Irshad to be very pleasant company. Young, attractive omegas... Irshad was unbonded and Banksy was bonded to a much, much older Alpha who was at about the same dominance level as Tony. So sue him; he couldn't help noticing that. Anyways he liked them for more than just mating potential, probably. Both seemed clever. Tony certainly didn't mind sitting around listening to them talk about civil rights if it meant he got to ogle them a little. He was pretty sure you'd have to be inhuman not to notice how attractive Banksy was, or how high up on the status totem pole Irshad was. Alphas tripped over themselves around both of them.
"Maybe," Steve sighed as he examined the tickets. "Maybe in like a week. But not right now. I'm fed up of being in front of cameras already."
"Can I come shower with you?" asked Tony.
Steve hummed, still looking over the tickets. They said something about a conference? He frowned and looked up to catch Aria and Tony talking about sex-- Oh God.
"You look like you just got out of the showe--" began Aria.
"Steve's gonna get me all dirty again, though," said Tony, giving her a wicked smile.
"Eurgh. Sorry I asked. Have fun, you two." Aria rose. Tony looked at Steve lovingly. Sometimes, Tony felt like Steve and Pepper were the only two good things in his life.
If he could just get the Mark VII up and running, there would be that, too. But Tony couldn't go down to the shop without looking at the pile of photos on his desk and he remembered, with a sinking sensation, how few of those photos of his father included his father's omega, the omega that didn't get paid and was treated, not as a partner, but as a servant.
"I'll give you guys a few days to... shower," Aria grumbled. "I'll let you know if anything important comes in. See you soon Steve."
Steve nodded, his cheeks burning a little as he watched her go. He cleared his throat as the door slipped shut, letting his hand fall down to take Tony's in his. He moved to tug Tony upstairs. He wasn't in a rush to get clean but he was quite alright with Tony showering with him.
"Did you have an okay day yesterday?" Steve asked tentatively, leading him into the bathroom before he moved to flick on the shower to get the water warming up. "I'm sorry I didn't really see you."
Tony let Steve lead him into the bathroom; he hopped up on the marble counter and sat there, swinging his legs, watching Steve adjust the shower temperature. Tony's shower was all stone and large enough to double as a sauna; there were jets in both the walls and the ceiling, and a long bench of redwood running along one wall. Sometimes, when he was in a foul mood, Tony would hole himself up for hours at a time. As far as temperature adjustment, it was all digital and could be voice-activated, but Steve seemed to enjoy the ritual of doing it manually.
"...it was okay. I went to a... meeting thing. With other Alphas. They were okay. I probably wouldn't go back but there's free coffee and you know how frugal I am," said Tony, swinging his legs idly.
"You went?" Steve was evidently pleased. "That's great. I'm glad. I hope they're nice to you. I'm guessing they recognised you," he said, his smile warm. "I think it will help, and that you should stick with it- even if just for the coffee," he said, voice gentle.
"How 'bout you? Did Clint have lots of cool comic books in his treehouse? Did you guys do each other's nails or was it more like swapping bubblegum and trading cards?" He left out that he'd tried to track them.
"We had a good day. It was relaxing. We made pizza and stuff," Steve said and felt bad for holding back about Clint's family. But it wasn't his secret to tell. Once they were closer maybe Clint and Natasha would tell him themselves; Steve hoped so at least. He didn't like the thought of keeping something like this from Tony forever.
"...did they mention me?" Tony tried to sound like he didn't care, because he was well-aware that Nat, Clint, Sam, and all the rest of the SHIELD posse was more Steve's friend than his, and they were rightfully furious at Tony for his cold treatment of Steve.
Steve moved to pull off his top, dropping it on the floor before toeing off his shoes and kicking them away because of the smell. Maybe it didn't bother Tony much but he didn't like it. Then he stuck his hand under the water, checking the temperature. It would do.
"Yeah. They asked how you were doing with everything," Steve said, stepping out of his shorts. "And I quite rightly told them you were being great with it all," he murmured and looked up to meet Tony's gaze.
Tony's eyes flicked up to meet Steve's. For once, they weren't roaming all over his body. "...thanks, Steve, but I got a lot to make up for. I treated you really bad. And probably will again. As much as it pains me to admit it, I am not perfect. ...it's kind of funny that I was so paranoid about you having another Alpha that I basically pushed you into a situation where you ended up..."
Tony sighed and looked down at the intricate design on the tile floor. Steve knew Tony well enough to know he was calming himself down by reciting a math formula in his head.
After a moment, he looked back up. "But the funny thing is, now that the absolute worst thing in the world happened... I don't feel paranoid anymore. I feel like, oh, so this is what it's like. And now I can handle it. And now, I guess, I know the worst thing in the world isn't there being another Alpha or thinking I'm not a good Alpha. It's losing you. This was all a huge wake-up call. It was like Afghanistan all over again." Tony had begun to perk up, only to wilt as he blurted the last sentence. "Only instead of me, it was you. And instead of building Iron Man and escaping... you got force-bonded. God, Steve. I'm sorry."
If Pepper had been around, she would have mentioned to Steve that part of Tony's cow-towed-ness was it being March. Tony often suffered through a series of self-depreciating personal revelations in March. Sometimes they stuck, and sometimes they didn't. Tony lost track of himself in the first two weeks every year, which is one of several reasons Pepper cancelled all his appointments during that time. Tony couldn't be trusted to make rational decisions. Period.
"This isn't all on you, Tony. I'm responsible for my actions, just like you are for your own." Steve distantly remembered Peggy finding him after Bucky's death, trying and failing to numb the pain with whiskey. She told him that Bucky had made his own decision, that he had to respect it and not blame himself. But it wasn't like Steve had gotten force-bonded out on the front lines; there was nothing respectful about what he did.
Tony hopped off the counter. "Can I come in the shower with you?" he asked, voice small, almost child-like.
"I wouldn't have brought you in here if you couldn't," Steve reassured him gently. When Tony appeared to be stepping in with his dressing gown on Steve stopped him with gentle hands on his arms and reached down to untie it for him, pushing the fabric away from his shoulders before they both stepped under the hot spray of water. It wasn't as hot as Steve was normally run it, but he knew Tony didn't like it when it was too hot.
Steve reached for the shampoo, lathering it up in his hair and laughing softly when he blopped some of the soap of Tony's nose.
Tony's nose wrinkled and the corners of his mouth twitched as he tried to repress a smile. "Here, let me do that," he offered, reaching over to massage Steve's scalp. He examined Steve closely, not with lust so much as concern. The nature of Steve's metabolism meant that he never remained ill or injured for long. Yemen had been so recent, yet both that and the two months preceding it had already been erased. Steve didn't look thin or pale or a bit sick, and any and all injuries and scars had been erased. Except for the one.
Because as powerful as the serum was, it couldn't make Steve not an omega. Steve's body didn't see the bonding mark as an injury or scar, but as a normal part of him, as perfectly natural, and it had healed itself to preserve the shape of Bucky's mouth so that during Steve's next heat, Bucky would bond him again, fit his teeth into the familiar grooves and tug on his neck while rutting into him
Tony realized he had frozen and was just standing there with his fingers tangled into Steve's hair. But even knowing it, he couldn't quite unfreeze, because now he was thinking about his own neck, with its melted blob of scarring that sure as hell didn't look like a normal bonding mark but also was unmistakably a claim to ownership, and he couldn't help but wonder if there was something wrong with him for not fighting harder or healing better...
Tony hadn't been one of those kids whose status was indeterminate. It had been obvious he was an Alpha since he was born; he could raise his hackles willfully by the age of five. Howard had been thrilled. And their relationship had been pretty good in those early years. It had really only down downhill once Tony hit puberty. Although his status was obvious, no one's dominance standing was ever really clear until they'd hit puberty. And Tony had come out the other end a disappointment; he was not a powerful Alpha, like Howard, but one of the milder ones. Everyone had assumed. They'd assumed wrong.
Tony's mind was churning through all these various thoughts like a runaway train, thinking about his lack of dominance and how that had made Steve's body choose Bucky over him, and everything that had happened in Afghanistan, and how Steve had been so much better in Yemen, so much stronger, even as an omega...
He tried to swallow the lump in his throat. Panic attack: imminent. Fantastic.
"Steve," he said. It was the one word he could think of to say and it was the most important word in the world. His hands dropped from Steve's scalp and he stepped forward to put his arms around Steve and bury his face in the other's collarbone. In the shower, all Tony could smell was shampoo, not Steve's new weird scent.
Now he felt guilty, too. Like he had no right to be upset, since it was Steve, not him, who had been force-bonded.
The people at the meeting had all reassured him that guilt was an overwhelming but non-productive and illogical emotion. It was normal to feel but he shouldn't let it eat away at him since he couldn't have prevented it.
Oh ho, but he could have, if only he hadn't been an asshole to Steve in the first place.
"I'm so sorry," he mumbled into Steve. It occurred to him, distantly, that he had probably apologized more times to Steve in a year than he had to Pepper in a decade. His relationship with Steve was special like that.
Steve knew when a panic attack was coming by now. He could feel it in his own chest- a tightness and uncomfortableness that wasn't his own. He didn't know what had caused exactly but it wasn't hard to guess. Fortunately most of the suds were washed away from Steve's hair so it didn't matter that their shower had to be cut short.
"Hey. Hey it's okay. I know you're sorry. It's okay Tony I promise," Steve said in a mantra of words and moved to pick him up in one easy movement. He carried him into the bedroom and set Tony down on the bed before going to fetch a towel and wrap around him. Steve curled the towel around his shoulders, putting himself in front of Tony's distant gaze so he could see him. He was still wet himself but it didn't matter as he wrapped his hands around Tony and rocked him gently.
He let Tony tuck his head under Steve's chin as he kept murmuring to him and promising to him that it was okay. "We're both here. We're both okay. I'm not going anywhere Tony. I'm staying."
Of all the things he hated most about panic attacks-- the crippling fear and the difficulty breathing and the tightness in his chest and conviction that he was going to die-- out of all of it, the thing Tony hated most was how completely it hijacked his brain. Tony was used to having a mind that could simultaneously weave multiple thoughts along with ease. During panic attacks, all thoughts ground to a halt and so did most of his basic perceptions. He just shut down, and that was something he hated.
Case in point: he was suddenly aware that he was curled in Steve's lap, no longer standing, and they weren't in the shower anymore, but he had no memory of being moved.
"You're staying. Okay. You're staying right here," repeated Tony. "My omega. Okay." He forced himself to take a deep breath. He reached up shakily to touch Steve's chest. Warm, solid, present. His. Here.
Steve didn't know how long they say there like that. But eventually the tight feeling in his chest began to wane, so he hoped it was for Tony too. He rocked him gently, strong arms keeping him warm. Steve didn't know what else to say other than reassurances. He didn't know what was up in the first place.
"Tony," he whispered. "Talk to me. You don't have to tell me what was it about, just talk to me about...something."
"You're staying," repeated Tony, heart pounding.
Tony felt the tension slowly ebbing. "Omega," he repeated, quietly, letting Steve rock him. Moments like these were, thankfully, private. Tony would have been deeply embarrassed if anyone knew, even Pepper. But when it was just him and Steve, it was perfect. That was, in a way, what bonding was all about. Safe, controlled vulnerability.
He was vulnerable.
The sensation hit him out of nowhere. He'd been in a phone booth (phone booths were surprisingly difficult to find for some reason), making his way through the Cleveland yellow pages. There were only six Karpovs listed and none of them were Vasily. But of course Karpov wouldn't use his real name. So now the soldier was just calling every Russian name in the book. He was on page 16 of thousands of pages and progress was slow because he had no money and had to call collect.
Then, out of nowhere, it hit him. At first he thought someone had punched him in the throat. His airway constricted, his chest tightened, and he was suddenly frozen with an unfamiliar sensation. He looked around, wildly, but he was perfectly alone and there was no obvious reason why his body was reacting this way.
His hands were shaking, his knees were weak. He felt himself sliding down to the floor like a raindrop; a moment later he was curled on the floor of the phone booth, arms wrapped around his knees, shaking violently. He let out a small, weak keening sound.
Where the hell was Karpov? Where the hell was his omega? He had never felt more alone in his life; this was worse even than retraining sessions in that damned chair.
He set his forehead on his knees, waiting for it to pass, metal hand gripping the payphone hard enough to leave dents in it.
"Yours." Steve affirmed gently, running a hand through Tony's hair. He rested his head atop of Tony's and closed his eyes, sighing in relief as he felt the tension easing out of his Alpha. He squeezed the other's shoulders gently, wishing so badly that he could just make Tony feel better. But the whole point of this was that it was irrational, that was why it happened in the first place. "I love you Tony. And I'm not going anywhere."
When Tony was ready Steve gently eased them down in bed, throwing the towel away as it wasn't needed anymore. He dragged the duvet over them and placed a hand on Tony's chest so he would know he was there.
"I promise it's gonna be okay," Steve murmured and pressed a kiss to Tony's shoulder. He didn't know what to do to make him feel better. Right now he just wanted the other to come back to him. "We don't have to do anything today. We can just stay in and ignore the world. We don't have to answer to anyone. It's just us here," Steve whispered and nuzzled against the curve of his neck gently, staying well away from the scar.
His mind drifted to Bucky briefly. He wondered if he'd felt it. Steve had asked Natasha to check her contacts, see if they knew anything-- but he was scared she wouldn't tell him if they did. Everyone was so determined to protect Steve now. Especially from himself, it seemed.
"Hey," Steve trailed a finger down Tony's arm. "Are you with me?"
"Till the end of the line," mumbled Tony automatically, half-asleep. He reached up to take Steve's hand on his chest and move it away from the arc reactor and the scarring that surround it.
Till the end of the line.
Steve froze, the words sending a chill down his spine.
"Sir. Miss Potts is here," chimed JARVIS.
Tony cracked an eye open. "Send her up. I'm not moving." He closed the eye again, trying to focus on his breathing, on Steve, on not dying.
Steve's mind was still reeling, but he was dragged back to the present when Pepper burst in, quickly tugging up the sheets to cover up his naked thigh. He liked to try and keep himself at least partly decent around Pepper, even though he had been naked that one time and thrown up on her.
In a weird way it had felt like they'd always been closer since that.
"Tony! Why the hell are there two tickets to the Alphas' United Conference with your name on them in the dining-- you two better not be naked under there, I swear, I'm trying to run a company and deal with the constant onslaught of--"
"What's Alphas' United?" asked Tony.
Pepper actually stopped ranting, clearly surprised. "It's-- it's an Alpha rights group. Like, the biggest one in the world. How do you not know that?"
Tony didn't move, still clinging to Steve. "Why would Alphas need a rights group?"
"They don't. That's the point. It's a conservative group that's all about oppressing omegas and keeping them in their place, which is why I don't know why you have tickets to their conference, because if you showed up it would be political suicide. ...are you okay?"
"Minor panic attack. Nothing new," said Tony, face still buried in Steve's chest. Before Pepper could ask, he added, "Not about the anniversary. 'Bout bonding stuff. I'm okay."
"Gideon Malick sent them," Steve said. "He probably thinks it's funny. When's the conference?"
"Steve," Pepper sent him a long, hard look. "I hope you're not thinking what I think you're thinking. But don't do it. There's just some people you don't want to piss off and Alphas United is definitely one of those."
"But when is it?" Steve asked, clearly still curious.
Pepper sighed.
"It's March twenty-fifth through March twenty-seventh. But they wouldn't let you in anyway, Steve."
"That's weird. You'd think all those uber-dominant Alphas would want their omegas there to boss around," said Tony, in the first coherent sentence since his freak-out in the shower.
"--they let in omegas, but only if they're bonded and collared. So unless Steve wants to throw a chain around his neck, they won't let him in, and there's no way you're going, Tony, because it would absolutely destroy your public image."
"Hmm," said Tony.
"No. No hmming." Pepper walked around to Tony's side of the bed, and Steve saw she was carrying a stack of binders easily eight inches thick. "I know this is probably a lousy time, but I need the two of you to sign a bunch of documents. Mostly debriefings for intelligence agencies for Yemen. I drafted more than half of them myself. Luckily I'm also a notary public so we can just take care of this right now. Blue tabs are Tony's signature, green tabs are Tony's initials, red tabs are Steve's signature, yellow tabs are Steve's initials, purple tabs are items I'd like you to specifically review for yourself, and orange and pink are areas subject to revisions at a later date so please pay attention. Orange was previously revised and pink is to be revised."
"So there's absolutely no way at all they'd let Steve in without a collar?" asked Tony.
"Absolutely not. Tony, did you hear--"
"But they do let omegas in?"
"Yes, bonded ones, but there's no way you two are--"
"I have a crazy and brilliant idea."
"...is it signing these documents without making my life more difficult?" asked Pepper hopefully.
"It's the exact opposite of that!"
"Gideon Malick sent us those tickets to humiliate and make fun of us at a very difficult time," Steve reasoned. "The last thing he will expect is for us to actually turn up. And I would sure love to meet all their omegas. I'm sure they would love for all their bondmates to be hanging out with good old out-of-control Cap." He was clearly tickled at the idea. Steve hadn't been looking to throw himself out there so soon but Malick had sent them those tickets himself. He'd made it personal. In fact, he'd made it personal the minute he'd implied that Steve needed 'breaking in.'
He looked down at the files, eyes wide. "When do we have to do all this by?"
"End of the week," Pepper said and put her hands on her hips. Steve though about all the effort it must have taken just to make those binders and his heart swelled with gratitude. They really needed to buy Aria and Pepper a holiday. In fact, maybe they would like that. They were good friends; they'd enjoy a break together.
"But... couldn't I just turn up without a collar on? Would they seriously not let me in?" Steve asked, trying and failing to understand. Pepper sighed.
"It's very traditional and very strict. They do everything by the rules. And whatever you're thinking Tony... don't do it."
Tony sat up, oblivious to the sheet pooling around his waist, barely covering him. Pepper was unfazed by either the nudity or the arc reactor. "No, no, hear me out, it's an amazing idea."
"No, Tony."
"I think Steve's right, it would be good for the omegas there to hang out with him. And listen. So the only way they'd let Steve in is with a collar, right?"
"Right."
"And the reason collars on omegas is bad is because...?" prompted Tony.
"Because they're degrading, Tony," said Pepper, who didn't look a bit amused with Tony's Socratic line of questioning.
"Right and they're designed to be a symbol of the omega's service to the Alpha. Right?"
"Yes, correct. Very good. Now sign." Pepper dropped the stack of binders into Tony's lap. "And anything with a checkmark on the tab, pass it back to me so I can notarize it."
"--okay, but, men and women wear wedding rings, and no one cares about that, right?"
"Yes, but rings are different, Tony."
Tony was visibly excited. "Yeah, because both partners wear the ring and it's equal. So what if--"
Pepper's eyes widened. "Tony. No ."
"--we showed up in matching--"
"Absolutely not."
"--collars, as equals?"
" Anthony Edward Stark."
"It would piss off all the Alphas but they couldn't complain, right? Since I'm an Alpha? There's no rules against Alphas wearing collars, right?"
"Oh, Lord, Tony, no. Please. Please, Alphas United already hates you two... if you pulled a stunt like that..."
"And remember what Aria said, about omegas being brainwashed? Steve, you gotta get in there and talk to all those omegas with the collars and tell 'em they're equals. And they'll listen to you... you're an omega, too, and you're bonded and you'll be in a collar... oh, man, and just imagine, remember when Malick tried to order for you, and then I stepped in? Imagine... imagine how many times someone will try to boss you around, and then I, as you Alpha, tell you not to... they can't complain about you being out of control if I'm 'ordering' you to be out of control. It creates a paradox, see? I'll say, 'Steve would like to speak to you,' and they'll be like, shit, I don't want to talk to an omega but I can't tell Steve not to since his mate's ordering him to... their heads will totally explode. It'll be amazing."
Pepper reached into her purse to pull out of bottle of Advil. "No. No. And no," she said, firmly. She reached over to tap the binder. "Sign."
Tony looked over at Steve excitedly. "What'd you think?"
Steve was grinning from ear to ear. "I think that sounds amazing."
"You boys are supposed to be taking a break!" Pepper let out a noise of frustration. "But I suppose, if it'll make you happy...I'm sure they use very good caterers," she sounded sarcastic but it was genuinely Steve's idea of a good time. Free drinks and food, all whilst undermining the Alphaocracy and hanging out with some, what he was sure would be, lovely omegas. Maybe he could take them on a night out or something, away from their Alphas. Convince them to be as "unruly" as he was. Oh, that would be hilarious.
"I'll let Aria know," Steve said and grabbed his phone off the bedside table, the sheets pooling in his lap to offer him some decency.
Pepper wanted to be annoyed but couldn't find it in herself. They looked more like a couple, more themselves and were certainly more relaxed around each other. It was easy to see how guarded Steve had been before, but he wasn't now. He was just... himself. "The press will go insane if you do this," she warned them, her eyes on Steve.
"They're already going insane." Steve waved a hand. "Maybe we can finally give them something worth talking about."
"Open bar conference where I get to see Steve in a collar? I love it," said Tony, beaming.
Pepper cocked an eyebrow, fixing Tony with a questioning look.
"...oh, come on, Pepper. I don't want to have the Princess Leia discussion again."
"That outfit isn't sexy, it's distasteful and humiliating and--"
"Yes, yes, yes, it's a very anti-feminist outfit, but it is too sexy, and your unwillingness to wear it five Halloweens ago was embarrassing for both of us."
"There is nothing in my job description about dressing up as slave Leia."
"Why would you want someone to dress up as slave? Surely they just looked malnourished and sad?" Steve said, not understanding why anyone would dress up as a slave. The name Princess Leia did sound vaguely familiar though.
"Yeah, well, I asked you to match me as a friend, not as my PA, so I don't think it was out of line to ask!" Tony squirmed over to press himself closer to Steve, and rested his head on Steve's shoulder.
Pepper huffed and let it go. After seeing how Tony had been without Steve for two months, she was just glad they were back together. Also, Tony was at present too distracted to think about the upcoming anniversary, for which she was grateful. "Fine, do whatever you like. Just sign these documents."
Tony kissed the side of Steve's neck, ignoring her.
"Tony please...oh, I give up..."
"I'll make sure they get done!" Steve said as Pepper walked out, and she shot him a look that was something like gratitude over her shoulder as she went.
Tony's mouth on his neck felt nice.
"Do you seriously mean it?" Steve asked, already imagining Malick's face when they waltzed up right next to him. Did Malick have an omega? Steve wasn't sure if he was even bonded. "Because I'm definitely game if you are."
"Of course, Steve. First of all, I get to see you in a collar. Second of all, free drinks. Third, I hate Malick as much as you do; the guy's an asshole. And most importantly... I really wanna support your omega rights thing. And this is something that I can do, as an Alpha. And ever since I got to know you, y'know... things have changed for me."
Tony drew away with a nostalgic smile. "You remember when we first met? Not when you smacked Happy onto the floor, although that was hilarious. Not when you interviewed. I mean like your first day as my PA, when we started talking about omega rights. And I called you uppity. And nicknamed you Sparky. And thought you were such a smug little omega... oh my God, I was just like the rest of them, I was such a tool."
"Oh my God. I hated that nickname. I still remember when you smacked my ass on the plane and it took every bone in my body to not turn around and tell you who I really was," Steve said, remembering it almost fondly now. Yes, Tony had been ignorant, but so had Steve. He'd barely understood the century he was living in. If Pepper hadn't been constantly working she probably would have noticed how inept Steve was when it came to stuff like Twitter and Instagram.
Tony shook his head, amused, then added, "In between this and giving up weapons contracting, I might not end up in hell with Dad after all."
He lapsed into silence suddenly.
Tony didn't believe in any sort of real afterlife. He didn't think his father was either in heaven or hell or reincarnated as a housecat. Tony simply felt that his father was dead and in the ground and that was that.
He flopped back down into the bed. "You don't have to stay in bed all day with me," he said quietly. "I just wanna nap for a while. 'Night, Steve." Just like that, his enthusiasm was off like a light switch.
Pepper had given Steve multiple dire warnings about Tony's mood swings and bouts of futile depression; it was best, she'd told him, just to let him ride it out. Also, she mentioned, she watered down all the alcohol during the month of March, as a precaution.
Steve leaned down to kiss his forehead, knowing Tony would sleep best without Steve there wake him. "Sleep well Tony," he murmured against him before he pulled up and away. He got dressed before heading downstairs to find his... therapist. Did she just let herself in?
"Tony's PA let me in," Doctor Brennan said in explanation and Steve felt mildly relieved. "How's it going, Steve?"
"Good. Great, actually. And Pep-- I mean, Virginia isn't Tony's PA anymore."
"You mentioned before it was a hard time of year for Tony. How are you coping with it?"
"Well, he's coping-"
"I asked about you Steve," she said, sounding impatient. They played this game a lot. Steve moved to sit on a couch with a sigh. He hated talking about himself like this, especially with a stranger. How on earth did people find this therapeutic?
"I'm honestly doing good. I'm fine." And he meant it. Spending a day with Clint and Natasha... and Laura... it had been amazing, exactly what he'd needed.
"Okay then, what's put you in this good mood?"
So Steve told her, mostly, without giving away Clint's secret wife and kids side of things. Brennan stayed for about an hour. Soon her visits would become less frequent and Steve honestly couldn't wait. It was nothing he had against her, more just the whole concept in general. It was exhausting and Steve never felt better afterwards, perhaps worse. He did not understand the 21st century's obsession with therapy.
Dr. Brennan listened to Steve with a smile. "...I'm guessing you didn't see a lot of healthy trios in the thirties and forties," she said. "...nowadays, it's not nearly as rare to see an omega as the father or at the head of a trio. I won't lie; it's not exactly common. But it's certainly not taboo, either."
Their session was mostly about omegas in the twenty-first century; they didn't talk much about Steve's forced-bonding or Bucky. At least, not directly.
If there was one thing Steve got out of therapy sessions, it was mulling over how different things were in the future. What was normal and what wasn't, and how it compared to his own century. That, at least, he got something out of.
He shooed her out after the hour was up with several more insistances that he was fine and good and great and that honestly, his force-bonding was not as traumatic as everyone was making it out to be. And he meant it.
He made lunch, set some aside for Tony, and then went through the files that Pepper had left. Steve managed not to wake Tony when he fetched them. He signed and checked everything he was supposed to, then went to go swim in the pool. After that, Steve drew in his room-- filling up a space on one of the walls with another charcoal sketch of Peggy, this time her real, older self. It felt good to acknowledge the lines in her features now. She might be older, but she was just as fierce, perhaps even fiercer.
Peggy had never let being a woman get in the way of rising through the ranks of the SSR. Steve wouldn't let being an omega prevent him from doing what needed done, either. He never had.
He peeked in on Tony (still passed out), then went downstairs to rustle up something for dinner. He paused when he saw the tickets on the countertop and reached over, grabbing his phone and finding the link on the website so he could RVSP.
Tony Stark + one: place confirmed.
Steve smiled to himself and wondered just how much Malick had spent on the tickets.