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Tony Stark was a man of many mistakes. Political and sexual. His self destructing behavior and lack of control in certain situations that outs in sex brings him into positions and moments he regrets. Most of the time he doesn't, but when he does. He feels it through his entire body.
Nothing that solves a problem like running away, more sex, different people, multiple drinks and sleepless nights. Except this time there is nowhere to hide. He can run all he want but in the end it will never be enough.
A mistake large enough his body shakes, breath trembles as his chest feels heavy. A million thoughts that rush through his mind and not a single solution. He finally pushed it to far. To the point he can't get himself out. To the moment he explicit never wanted to end in.
It has been done, it's been said. To his face. Not even inches apart. Two voices.
It echoed through his head. Three words that he feared. Words he never wanted to hear, not from anyone, not from them.
The entire night was, no is a mistake. It should never happend. He should have get his head together, think rational and most of all kept away from that last drink.
He looked out of the private planes window, orange and yellow lights eliminating the sky, breaking the clouds announcing the sun would be coming soon.
He drank from the crystal glass, his hands shoke slightly, his heart skipped a beat as he saw the dark spots on his neck.
That night was young, the sun went down in the early hours of the winter.
The fireplace was burning warmly, it's orange glow illuminated the three man spread over the couch. The coffee table was filled with empty bottles, half fallen over cups, fruits juices dripping down the sides.
They laughed, legs spread over each other. Warm body's touching each other. Heat radiating on their faces. Circles being drawn on the tigh by a metallic hand over the fabric of the biljonairs jeans. His perfect gelled hair being messily taken apart by the thick fingers of the man sitting on his right.
Tony sat in the middle, his mind was woozy, light and filled with thoughts he couldn't sort out. His neck was warm, a red colour spread to his cheeks. A smile that that made sounds that came close to giggles.
Giggles.. They made him giggle. Laugh like a high school girl who just found out her long term crush likes her back and that it was not just a fantasy.
Steve's hand slides smoothly over the back of the short haired neck. Like painting, carefully gliding over his canvas over his throat to his chin. He grabbed him gently and turned Tony's head to face him.
Tony just laughed again. He looked at the captain, eyes lazy but full of emotion. He looked at his lips, pink and in a grin. He didn't hear what Steve said but he nodded. It felt like slowmotion. The corner of his lips carefully kissed,soon followed by a even more gentler kiss on the lips self.
Soft and longing, just like he imagined.
He didn't know when Bucky had moved forward, his chest pushing against Tony's back as his hand wrapped around his waist holding him close, leaving Steve to chase after Tony's mouth.
Little butterfly kisses were pressed against his bare neck, hands playing with the hem of the wrinkled T-shirt and inner tigh.
It was there the alarmbels should have gone off. Loud, sharp and annoying. Painful and screeching. Tony should have pushed the captain away, get out of the sergeants grasp. Drink lots of water and lots of sleep to sober up. But his mind was to clouded. Selfish feelings that made his heart beat faster. To be between the two super soldiers that seemed to be out of reach as they had each other, but the thought they wanted him.. Made him feel special, truly desirable.
They have been dancing around each other for weeks. Tip toeing like someone could break or fall apart any moment.
For Steve and Bucky the million dollar question was 'does he feel the same?' never acting out on what they wanted. But that night, when he gave them the change, they took it. Swearing to each other they were going to say it. Infite him in.
It was three in the morning when Tony woke up. His hair was sticking against his face from sweat and tears. His head was dully aching, like his heart was replaced and put inside his brain. His body was half covered by the dark sheets.
Around his waist a heavy arm rested, the metal didn't even feel cool against his bare skin anymore. Bucky was holding onto him protective, his chest pressed against his.
He could feel warm breath on the side of his face.
The sergeants eyes were shut peaceful, maybe the most peaceful Tony had ever seen.
His back was flushed against Steve's pale skin. His hand was gently on top of Tony's leg. His other arm used as a pillow for his own head. His body was warm, radiating against his skin. For a second Tony heard him mumble something, to vague to hear to sleepy to understand.
Tony breathed low, his throat felt dry, his body ached and that aching awoke something he didn't want to feel. This feeling. The feeling of warmth, being pressed to comfortably between the two men. Like he was being protected.
Lips caressed his skin, hands dragged down his waist, holding onto his hips, grabbing him so hard that bruises would form into his skin. The feeling of being pull down together with the feverish kisses was to much to bare. Body pressed against each other. Sweat glinstering over his back. His sounds being swallowed by bruised lips. The praises that made his head toll, rough hands that massaged his tighs, his hips slamming into Steve's. Bucky's hand wrapped around his cock. The loving words. It was intense, to intense for him to handle.
Even with the way his head was, he remembered it all, felt it all, the aftermath, the hand prints, the way their mouths felt around his cock and lips. They way his own nails digged into Bucky's shoulders. His legs wrapped around Steve hips pulling him as close as possible.
The way he was in pure bliss, eyes rolled back, mouth agape and body going to limp. Their tired, slurred out words.
"I love you"
Two voices, it shot him like a bullet, but did not react as his body gave out, pulling him into a deep, but short slumber.
It got warm again, to warm. His heart beated fast, a dreadful feeling took place in his stomach. He was burning, chest rising up and down, fast and painful.
Nothing was clear, not a single thought made sense. But what he did know what that he had to get out, away, far, from them, from their words, their touch and.. Feelings.
Carefully he moved Bucky's arm off him, placed it in the small space that was between their body's. He gritted his teeth, trying to control his breathing, steady removing Steve's hand from his body that was leaving a burn.
Slowly he sat up, he didn't want to wake them up, he couldn't, he wouldn't. Please don't wake up, not now. Wait..
He thought, the same words repeated in his head.
To far, this was it, he went to far, he shouldn't have done this. How could he..
When the man was sure both were still asleep he wiggled out of the sheets, with light steps getting off the blanket and stepping of the king bed. He was still to hot, his head to busy. The room smelled like sweat and sex, it smelled like them.
Tony stood up that night, he took a hour long shower in his own room. Washed his body as hard as he could, scrubbing their touch away. Warm water spilled down his cheeks, he cursed, he swore convincing himself it was just shower water.
He dressed himself and called through Jarvis for a plane. His next business meeting was two days away, but he had to go now. Get out.
He should have not acted onto his desires, the days he dreamed of something with them shouldn't have happened. He had to be in control, be the mature one. It couldn't have gone like this, it should never have happened in the first place.
He slumped more into his seat, gripping the leather armrest.
They are colleagues, partners, business, men. Love doesn't suit him and it never will.
Selfish, regret and heart ache. What did he do to himself, to them, fool them like this.
So he does what he does best when he can't hide, he runs. Far.