Chapter Text
He was no more than a baby then
Well he seemed broken-hearted
Something within him
The moment that I first laid
Eyes on him, all alone
--"Edge of Seventeen" by Stevie Nicks
Tony hesitated, trying to swallow around the lump that had formed in the back of his throat as he stood outside The Howling Commando, the building’s dark green paint in stark contrast with the brighter storefronts that surrounded it. He usually preferred to spend his time at one of the many coffee shops that surrounded campus, but after a year of dating Tiberius Stone, he had become familiar enough with Cambridge’s bar scene to know that the biker bar attracted a rougher crowd than any of the other establishments along Massachusetts Avenue.
The bar’s interior must have been dimly lit. Tony’s own pale reflection stared back at him, the only thing he could see as he stood, indecisive, in front of it’s large window, his hands shoved into the pockets of his best pair of jeans as he tried to work up the courage to open the door.
He’d never actually been inside The Howling Commando. The bar’s reputation kept most of the student body away, including his barfly ex. Ty Stone would probably choose sobriety before ever deigning to step foot in a bar like The Howling Commando. That was the main reason Tony had chosen to apply at this bar in particular. The next to zero chance of ever running into his toxic ex was a serious point in the bar’s favor.
Well, that and the fact that Tony found himself in desperate need of a paycheck. He would have taken a job at any bar that was willing to pay him, even if that meant serving Ty and whatever piece of eye candy he’d chosen to drape himself across this week in his seemingly never ending quest to torment Tony. But if he could get the paycheck without having to deal with Ty and all of his bullshit drama – that – that was definitely the preferred option.
Tony honestly didn’t know how Ty had managed to so thoroughly paint himself as the broken-hearted victim of their break-up, especially given that he had been the one to cheat on Tony: with the quarterback of the football team, a point guard from the basketball team, and apparently half the goddamn lacrosse team. But Ty’s theatrics knew no bounds, and since all of their mutual friends had actually been Ty’s friends to begin with, they had all taken Ty’s side in the break-up, meaning Tony was on the receiving end of icy glares and cold shoulders whenever he went out around campus. Which was why he’d mostly taken to barricading himself in his apartment when he wasn’t in class.
Not that losing those friendships was any great loss. After everything came out about Ty, it had suddenly seemed like everyone, everywhere, had already known, except for him. Christ, it was half the lacrosse team, how could anyone not know?
Okay, that wasn’t entirely fair. Rhodey and Pepper would never have kept something like this from him, and they had stood by him through the emotional fallout, but Tony was dangerously close to losing their friendship as well, or at least, he should be. He hadn’t spoken to them recently enough to know whether he was in danger of losing their friendship.
Hurt, embarrassed, and ashamed of not having seen through Ty’s lies, he had withdrawn into himself, pushing everyone away. He felt exposed, vulnerable, in a way that he had never been before, and he was terrified of opening himself up to anyone who could hurt him. So he ignored their texts and their calls, pretending he wasn’t home when they knocked on his door, despite the fact that he only ever left his apartment now to go to class or the research lab.
Ever resourceful, Pepper and Rhodey had tracked him down by waiting outside of his Nanoengineering class, but Tony had managed to avoid them by coaxing Dr. Yinsen into an in depth discussion about stochastic simulations. It wasn’t kind, he knew that, but he wasn’t ready to face them, wasn’t ready to admit what a lovesick fool he had been.
The hardest part of all of this was the gradual realization that Tiberius had never actually loved him. If Ty’s type was athletic, then Tony couldn’t be further from it. Machines and grease stains were more his speed than sports balls and sweat stains.
He frowned at his own reflection. His basic button down shirt was a men’s small, but it still hung loosely on his thin frame. He was nothing like the guys Ty had cheated on him with. He needed to face the truth, as painful as it was: he had been, at best, a shiny new toy for Ty to play with, and at worst, Ty had been using him for his money and prestige. Ty came from a family with a lot of money, but Tony came from a family with a lot more money, and the Stark brand name was on at least one device in every home in America.
Tony sighed.
He wasn’t going to have to worry about being used for his money anymore, at least, not for a while. Not until things settled down with his father. An unintended consequence of a big messy break-up with a man who tended towards the overly dramatic was that Tony had been outed to his father in the process, mostly because Tiberius wouldn’t stop calling the house over winter break, and then showed up on the front door with a dozen roses and an old boombox like a damn John Cusack movie.
Tony hadn’t been particularly moved by this gesture, but Howard had been practically apocalyptic, reacting exactly as poorly as Tony would have predicted he might in such a circumstance. He had immediately cut Tony off until he “got his life straightened out”, whatever that meant. Okay, well, Tony did actually know what that meant. It meant until he settled down with a nice girl from the Upper East side. But that wasn’t going to happen. Tony had no interest in women, and he wasn’t about to set some poor girl up to be his beard just to appease Howard.
Tony knew full well Howard wasn’t actually going to disown him. The Stark brand meant too much to Howard, and Tony was the sole heir. There was no way Howard would let the company go to anyone else. Besides, he needed Tony’s engineering skills. The work Tony had done on the new Stark Phone battery had put their competitors to shame. Tony would be back in Howard’s good graces before graduation, lest he be tempted to go work for a competitor, or worse, in Howard’s eyes, start his own company. But Howard was definitely going to make him suffer in the meantime.
Which was why he was standing outside The Howling Commando in the first place, his stomach twisting in hunger; a loud reminder that last night’s top ramen had been almost twenty hours ago. He had no choice, really. He was desperate, and the red and white help wanted sign in the bar’s window was his only chance of outlasting his father in this silent but unpleasant battle of wills.
He straightened his shoulders, reaching for the door with a hand that was only slightly trembling. He could do this. It was just a bar. Just like every other bar on Massachusetts Ave. Well, except for the pristine Harley Davidsons that were parked out front, the sunlight nearly blinding as it reflected off the bikes’ gleaming chrome. And the big, burly, potentially criminal owners of said pristine Harleys who were likely getting drunk just on the other side of this window. And the owner of this establishment, who had a reputation of taking exactly zero shit from anyone, and – Nope. Nope.
Tony wasn’t going to talk himself out of this. Not when he’d already made up his mind and come this far. He’d cut class to come to this interview, so he was damn sure gonna try to at least walk away with a job. Sure, working at literally any other bar would probably be easier, but then he ran the risk of running into Ty and Lacrosse Player Number 21, or whatever, and he did not need to see Ty’s smug face when it was Ty’s fault he was in this position in the first place.
The bar’s interior was exactly as dark and dingy as Tony had expected, despite the broad front window that should have been letting in the afternoon’s bright sun. A few dim lights hung from the ceiling, casting the large open space in shadows. The Rolling Stones’ “Honkey Tonk Women” blared from a jukebox in the corner. Only a handful of the tables were occupied this early in the afternoon, but every single person at every single table turned to watch him as he entered the bar, eyeing him up and down appraisingly.
Tony knew he looked out of place. For one, he had to be a good twenty years younger than most everyone else in the room. He was also dressed a lot nicer, even though he was dressed down by most interview standards. Everyone seemed to be wearing t-shirts, some for old classic rock bands – Black Sabbath, nice, Tony enthusiastically approved – and some paired with black leather vests covered in bright patches – Tony less enthusiastically approved, or well, didn’t approve at all, whatever, he wasn’t here to be a fashion judge – and faded, ripped jeans that were practically torn to shreds.
The bar itself was unoccupied, except for an older man, probably in his late thirties, who stood behind the bar. He was wearing a black t-shirt with The Howling Commandos logo emblazoned in red over his left pec.
Tony inhaled a sharp breath as he watched the man casually toss a bottle of whiskey into the air over his head, catching it in his other hand behind his back before placing it on the shelf, the corners of his bright blue eyes crinkling as he smiled to himself in pleased amusement.
Despite Tiberius being a complete and total dickhead, Tony had been in mourning over their relationship and what he had thought they shared. Or perhaps because Tiberius had been such a complete and total dickhead. Because what Tony had thought had been love had actually been nothing more than lies and deceit, and he mourned the days when he’d actually thought he was worthy of someone’s affection and devotion. Then the bitter reality of the whole situation had seeped into his heart and soul.
So last night Tony had made the completely rational decision to swear off men completely for the rest of his whole life, or at least, that’s what he had scrawled across the top of his nonlinear dynamics homework before drunkenly passing out in a puddle of his own drool – drool, definitely not tears, because he certainly wasn’t going to cry himself to sleep over that asshole Ty. Swearing off men. Completely. Forever. Written in red ink, of course – curse his past drunken self – so now he was going to have to rewrite the entire damn assignment, because he wasn’t about to turn that in to his professor.
Anyway, so he’d sworn off men, completely and forever and all that, but damn, he still had eyes. And right now those eyes were drinking in the vision of the man who stood behind the bar. He was handsome, in a rugged sort of way that Tony wasn’t used to, with defined, chiseled features, and the slightest hints of gray throughout his dirty blond hair and beard. Toned biceps bulged from within the short sleeves, the shirt seeming to strain at the seams as it stretched across the man’s broad chest.
Okay, maybe Tony could understand Ty’s attraction to the athletic types, if the athletic type looked like that. He gave a slight whine in the back of his throat. If he hadn’t completely sworn off men, he could be in trouble. So it was definitely a good thing that he had made that completely rational decision. To swear off men. Completely. Forever. Even if they were ruggedly handsome bartenders in the roughest bar in Cambridge. No, especially if they were ruggedly handsome bartenders in the roughest bar in Cambridge.
“You lost?” came an amused voice from behind the bar, and Tony jumped, flushing as he realized he’d been caught staring.
He approached the bar cautiously, still acutely aware of the other men in the bar watching him. “I’m here for an interview.” His voice trembled a lot more than he would have liked. He cleared his throat, forcing his voice to remain steady. “I was told to ask for the captain?”
The man chuckled, and Tony’s heart dropped. Had this been some sort of cruel prank? He knew he didn’t really fit in here, and that would have been obvious from his application, but he desperately needed this job, and he was a hard worker. He would even be willing to buy a leather vest if he needed it to fit in. Not right away, of course, because he needed food, and rent was due at the end of the month, and Howard was showing no signs of paying it. But after a few paychecks. If he really had to. Like, if that was a condition for his employment, he would… he would force himself to wear a leather vest.
But then the man smiled, holding Tony’s gaze, and Tony wasn’t positive, but he was pretty sure the man’s smile could have melted the iceberg that sank the Titanic, and Tony realized he wasn’t laughing at him. “Bucky always tells people to call me that,” the man said, shaking his head. “But you can call me Steve.” He glanced at the clock on the far end of the bar. “And you’re right on time, so this is already going better than my last interview.”
Tony nodded mutely, unsure if he could trust himself to speak. The men at the tables were now watching him with even more scrutiny.
“Do you want a drink?” Steve asked.
Tony couldn’t afford a drink. He could barely afford the ramen noodles and Pop-Tarts from the campus vending machine he’d been surviving on for the past couple of weeks. And besides, he wasn’t actually old enough to drink in a bar, though the fake ID in his wallet claimed otherwise. “Uh, no,” Tony stammered. “I’m fine.”
“You sure?” Steve asked, one eyebrow raised. “We don’t just have booze here, of course. We have sodas, and Natasha always keeps some sweet tea brewed in the back.” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “It’s on the house. Just don’t tell the owner.” He winked at Tony, a legitimate wink, and paired with that brilliant warm smile, Tony was afraid it was going to make his heart stop.
He let out a grateful sigh as he nodded, then quickly schooled his features, hoping his desperation wasn’t as obvious as it felt. “Yeah, a soda would be great then. Anything with caffeine.”
The corners of Steve’s mouth quirked with a smile he was clearly trying to suppress, but he simply nodded, then pointed for Tony to take a seat at one of the tables in the middle of the bar. Tony slowly crossed the room, pointedly not looking at the other men in the bar, knowing their eyes were following him. He pulled out one of the wooden chairs and sat in it, his back straight, hands resting awkwardly on the table in front of him. He was so focused on not looking at the other men, and trying not to look like he didn’t belong, that he didn’t notice Steve approaching the table. He startled as the man set a large glass of Coke in front of him, the glass already sweating in the warm room.
Steve sat across from him at the table, lounging casually in one of the chairs, his legs spread wide in front of him as he picked up a copy of Tony’s application. Tony had meticulously filled out the online application, despite not really having any work history, filling it with things like robotics club, his research advisor, and the charity work his mom forced him to do every summer. Steve alternated between studying the application and glancing at Tony, his brow furrowing as he flipped over the paper, probably looking for Tony’s non-existent work history. He set the application on the table, sitting up straighter, his hands clasped together on the table as he looked at Tony with a concerned expression.
“Tony Stark,” Steve murmured, and Tony winced slightly, but if the man recognized or questioned his last name, he gave no indication. He pursed his lips as he studied Tony. “Do you even want to work here?”
“What?” Tony squeaked, his voice higher pitched than even he had expected. He hadn’t been to many job interviews, well, any job interviews, really, but he was pretty sure this wasn’t how they usually started. He quickly took a sip from his glass, then continued, trying to keep his tone level. “Why wouldn’t I want to work here?”
“I don’t know, because you look like you’re about to jump out of your skin at any second now?” Steve asked. “You’re more tense than a guitar string that’s about to snap. So, what’s the deal? Why are you here?”
“Because I really need this job,” Tony answered truthfully, trying and failing to make himself look relaxed.
“Yeah, but there’s a hundred different food service jobs open on any given day. So, why this job? We don’t get a lot of college kids in here.”
“Well, that’s why actually.” Tony sighed, breaking Steve’s gaze and staring at the table. “Look, I’m in my last year at MIT. I’m just trying to get through and get my degree. But I recently ran into a bit of trouble, and my dad cut me off. I have a scholarship that covers my tuition, but I don’t qualify for financial aid because my dad….” He broke off uncomfortably. He didn’t actually like talking about his dad, or his dad’s company, or exactly how well off his family was. Guys like Tiberius reveled in flaunting their wealth, but Tony had never felt comfortable with it. Steve continued to stare at him, brow still furrowed, waiting for him to continue. “Finances weren’t really a problem. Until now. And I kinda like having a roof over my head. So I need a job. But I also want to avoid…” My ex. “...someone that I used to hang out with.”
At first Steve didn’t say anything, just continued staring at him with that slight frown. “You got enough to eat?” he asked finally.
“I get by,” Tony lied, rubbing the back of his neck. He’d probably lost ten pounds from his already slim frame over the past few weeks, but people had survived worse.
Steve abruptly stood and disappeared through a door behind the bar. Tony’s heart sank. He shouldn’t have given the man his sob story. It was unprofessional, and saying he’d recently gotten into trouble probably made him sound like some kind of rich, spoiled delinquent. He’d ruined his shot at getting a decent job, and he didn’t even have a back-up plan. This had been his only plan, though now that he thought about it, hanging all of his hopes on one job opening at one bar didn’t seem very bright. He was briefly considering whether opening an Only Fans account would impact his scholarship when Steve suddenly reappeared, carrying a plate with a delicious smelling burger and a mountain of fries.
“I hope you like burgers,” Steve said, placing the plate in front of him. Tony eyed the pile of food, his mouth watering as his traitorous stomach immediately growled its approval. “Go on.” Steve motioned to the burger as he sat back in his chair. “You can’t focus on a job interview if you’re hungry.”
Tony hesitantly picked up the burger, eyeing Steve apprehensively, but then the hunger took over, and he took a huge bite, closing his eyes in ecstasy as he savored the fresh grilled beef. When he opened them, Steve was watching him with an almost captivated interest. Tony cleared his throat, setting the burger back on the plate. “Thank you,” he said, his face flushing. “And, I won’t tell the owner,” he promised, remembering Steve’s earlier warning.
Steve laughed, a hearty, throaty laugh, the amused eye crinkle returning, and Tony thought it might be the most utterly delightful sound he’d ever heard, and he immediately wanted to make it happen again. “It’s okay. I’m the owner,” Steve said.
Oh. This time Steve was laughing at him, though it didn’t seem unkind. Still, Tony’s face flushed even redder.
Steve gave him another warm smile as he settled back in his chair, picking up Tony’s application again. Tony didn’t know why. They both knew there was practically nothing on it. “Do you even know how to cook?”
Tony opened his mouth to lie, then closed it, meeting Steve’s gaze. His parents had a butler that handled all of the family’s cooking, and Tony had mostly relied on take-out around campus until he’d been forced to make his meals from vending machine scraps. Steve nodded with a slight sigh, setting the application down again.
“I’m a fast learner,” Tony blurted. “I’m a hard worker. I’ll show up every shift, and I’ll give it my all.”
“This isn’t a typical student job,” Steve said. “The hours are late. You’d work seven p.m. to three a.m. Thursday through Saturday.”
“That’s fine,” Tony said, a little too quickly.
“Are you sure about this, kid? That kind of schedule ain’t gonna mess with your studies?”
Tony bristled slightly at being called a kid, but he didn’t let it show. He was twenty years old, an adult who was perfectly capable of making his own decisions. “I’m used to getting almost no sleep,” Tony replied. “As long as I can afford to buy coffee, I’ll be just fine.”
“And you’re not gonna call out on me at the last minute cause you got an exam the next day? Or some Friday night shift cause there’s a frat party somewhere?”
Tony shook his head. “I’ll be here every shift. I’m trying to avoid the Greek life, anyway.”
Steve’s jaw worked as he huffed out a sigh. “I can’t believe I’m gonna say this, but when can you start?”
Relief flushed through Tony’s entire body. He wasn’t going to have to go crawling back to his father, or start an Only Fans account, or work somewhere that he could run into Ty. And the only thing it was going to cost him was some sleep. Well, that and potentially the fashion crime of wearing a leather vest over some old rock band’s t-shirt. But he could deal with that. Anything was better than giving into his father’s demands.
“Is tonight too soon?”
Steve smiled at him again, and Tony’s heart fluttered in his chest. He bit his lip, hard. Okay, maybe swearing off men completely forever was a tad extreme. But he wasn’t about to go developing a crush on his new boss. He was here to work and earn money so that he could finish his degree without living under his father’s thumb. That the scenery wasn’t bad to look at was just an added bonus.
“Tonight is fine,” Steve said. “Get here at six-thirty so you can fill out the paperwork, and then I’ll show you around. You’ll need two forms of ID, but your driver’s license and your college ID should be fine.” Steve stood, and Tony followed suit, but Steve shook his head, motioning towards Tony’s still full plate. “Finish that burger. You’ve got a long night ahead of you.”
“Thank you, Mr. – ah – Steve,” Tony said, realizing he didn’t know the man’s last name. “I promise you won’t regret this.”
Steve sighed, but his smile was still warm. “I hope that’s true. Be here at six-thirty sharp.” He glanced over at the tables of men, who suddenly looked away, pretending to be engrossed in deep conversation. “And don’t mind the guys. They’re not as rough as they seem.”