Title: Thunder Hurried Slow
Universe: MCU (HS AU)
Pairing: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Word Count: 498
Summary: As Steve stared at the storm clouds gathering in the distance, he knew that in life, some things remained the same and some things changed or disappeared completely.
He wondered which one Tony would end up being.
On AO3Notes: Inspired by
this prompt for 890fifth's Round Three challenge, which called for fics shorter than 500 words. Originally, this was supposed to be a companion piece to a fic I wanted to submit late for Round Two, but I ended up hating the other fic so I don't know if that'll ever go up. As of right now, this is a standalone story although I'm contemplating writing a longer fic based off of it later on.
Something about this particular day, more than any other this summer, felt like the beginning of the end. Steve supposed that made sense in a way. They were in the sunset era of their high school lives; in a little over a year, they’d all be gone, scattering across the country, starting anew. This was likely to be the last birthday he’d spend together with everyone in the same place for a while. The thought weighed heavily on his mind, and even though it was July, there was a sadness that ached inside him that felt a little like autumn.
The front door slammed shut, and Tony dropped down to sit next to him. “Thinking about something?” he asked. He handed Steve a soda can, the condensation beading against the metal surface cool against his overheated palms.
“Looks like it’s going to rain,” Steve decided to say. The air stuck to him, pasted thick and heavy on his skin, and he could smell the promise of a storm in the light breeze. “Probably won’t have fireworks.”
Tony grimaced. “Maybe it’ll clear up before the party.”
“S’okay if it doesn’t. They’ll be doing them somewhere, and we can catch it on TV.”
“It’s your birthday, Steve,” Tony said plaintively, as if this, rather than it being the Fourth of July, were the reason why there were supposed to be fireworks in the first place.
“Doesn’t bother me. Just as long as I’m with everyone I care about.”
“Such a sap.”
“You know me,” he said cheerfully, and Tony rolled his eyes, knocking his shoulder against his.
They watched as clouds darkened rapidly at the horizon, shifting from aluminum to charcoal gray. Tony nodded his head at the jagged, needle-thin legs of lightning scarring the sky. “Still got your fireworks,” he said wryly, and Steve let out a laugh.
“I guess I do.”
“Still got me,” Tony added quietly as a crack of thunder shook the porch, and Steve knew then that Tony had known what he had been thinking about all along.
He was looking away from him as though half-hoping he had gone unheard, vulnerability in every line of his body but his eyes which burned with fierce determination. A small, tender thing unfurled inside of Steve at the sight, a little like heartbreak and a lot like love.
You know me, he wanted to say again.
“I know,” he said instead, and the truth of his words settled warm in his bones. He grinned widely. “Can’t get rid of you that easily.”
Tony laughed, a bright, unrestrained sound that jolted down Steve’s spine. “No,” he said, “You can’t. Sorry, but you’re stuck with me for life, Rogers.”
“Poor me,” he said, continuing to smile.
“Poor you,” Tony agreed, and when the storm finally broke over them a little while later, Steve closed his eyes and wondered what it would be like to taste the storm on the lips of a boy just as wild, alive, and electric.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
