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The first time he sees Tony Stark, Steve Rogers forgets.
The dirt his company is covered in, the bombs with his name on them, the deals that could break the nation. The alpha who Claimed him and whose ring he wears.
The special interest groups funded with blood money to keep omegas chained to their beds and alphas.
Everything Stark has done, he forgets.
When he sees Tony for the first time, he sees an omega, delicate and lovely, with bruise dark eyes and a mouth that is meant for smiles, twisted into something eerie and blank.
He sees something trained to stillness and a wildness in his flashing eyes and he forgets.
~
Bucky asks him, after.
If he took SI because it was the right thing to do. Or if he took it for Tony.
He doesn't answer his brother.
He doesn't need to.
His actions have spoken for him--in the cruel and calculated way it was done, the thoroughness.
He's ruined Tiberius Stone--not just taken his company and his omega, but destroyed what was left of his reputation and his position in society, made him a cuckold and a fool, stolen his omega and done it with a smile and Ty's twisted blessing and an insult on his lips.
He doesn't answer his brother. They already know the truth.
~
Tony is skittish and sultry, by turns.
Sometimes, he flinches away from Steve, his eyes wide and haunted.
Sometimes, he leans into Steve's space and purrs his pleasure on his cock and drips contentment curled in his arms on the couch.
"He doesn't trust me," he tells Natasha and she gives him a look of deep pity.
"Have you given him a reason to?"
Steve snarls. "I took him from that bastard. I took his company and I took his goddamn bond--"
"And what did you do with that? You put him in your ivory tower, a pretty plaything waiting for you to come back to him. You put yourself on the SI Board, made yourself a majority shareholder, and told him it was his to what he wanted with--but what are the consequences of doing something you don't want? You helped him break the bond, but you haven't given him anything in return. There's no claim, Steve. He doesn't trust you because he doesn't know what the hell you want." She gentles her tone, and says, "How can he know, when you don't?"
~
He knows what he wants.
It's the same thing he's wanted since he first saw Tony standing a demure step behind his alpha, in an omega styled pink suit and sharply intelligent eyes that went wide and dazed when he saw Steve, and amused at every subtle slight toward his husband.
He wants Tony. On his knot and in his life and wearing his bond bite.
And he wants, desperately, to give Tony the choice he's never had before.
~
"There's a Colonel here to see you," Clint says and Steve looks up. Strike has been folded into SI, but there's always another company to rip apart, another dirty buisnessman to bring down.
"We don't have any military meetings this week," he says, almost blankly.
Clint gives him a bland look and slides back out of the room.
The alpha that walks in makes every instinct in Steve bristle. He moves with confidence, his limbs long and lean, a rangy kind of strength that makes Steve wary. It's the way his gaze flickers over Steve, unimpressed and assessing that makes Steve straighten behind his desk.
"Colonel. What can I do for you?"
"Call me Rhodes. I'm not here with the Air Force--that was just to get into your office," he says, and there's nothing inviting and warm in his tone, in his cold eyes.
It's reassuring. It means Steve doesn't have to pretend. "What do you want?"
"I want my best friend."
It clicks, in that sentence, what about the man is setting Steve on edge.
It's his scent.
It's Tony's scent, layered deep and constant in the steel and ozone of the other alpha.
Steve clenches his fists. "Tony isn't mine to give, and even if he was--I wouldn't."
"I could take him," Rhodes says, his voice sharp and mean.
Steve growls, a deep subvocal noise that rumbles from his chest and clatters around the room, primal and animal, and it makes Rhodes' eyes narrow as his scent goes startled.
"Fucking try," Steve spits and it's a dare and a threat all in one. "If he wants to leave me, I won't stop him. I'll give him everything I owe, everything I can borrow and steal, to make his life easier, even if he leaves me. But no one will take him."
Rhodes is quiet, watching him, and then. "You love him."
Steve thinks, just for a moment, of denying it.
Thinks of the men he's ruined for Tony, of the lines he's crossed and the companies he's destroyed, and the things he would do with a smile, if it made Tony's scent go that sweet pleased vanilla that means he's startled and happy.
"Yes," he says, because it's true, and there is little he can do to argue it, even if he wanted.
He doesn't want to argue it.
"I love him. I'd marry him, bond him, breed him and keep him, if I thought for a second it's what he wants."
Rhodes stares at him for a long time, before he sighs. "Tell him that, Rogers. You might be surprised."
~
He trembles, staring at the stick in his hand.
He knew it was possible.
He'd stopped his sups, and he'd known it was possible.
The reality of it is still enough to almost drive him to his knees.
It's been six months since the chemical bond broke, since the silvered scar on his throat faded into nothing.
Almost a year, since Steve took him home and kept him.
They haven't talked about it again, what Tony wants.
He's stayed, and that has been enough. Even without a bond. Even without being Claimed. Even without a ring and a name.
But this--
This changes so much.
He smoothes a hand over his belly, still flat and wonders what he'll look like, and what the baby will look like, if she will have Steve's smile and Tony's eyes and his mama's love of music. He wonders who she will be, this tiny promise he never dared hope for.
It's safer, than wondering what Steve will think.
~
"Rhodes came to see me today."
He drops the words into the quiet of the evening, while Tony is almost dozing against his chest. He smells faintly off, like he's sick.
And he goes very still in Steve's arms at the words.
"Do you want to leave? Do you want to go to him?"
He doesn't know what he'll do, if Tony says yes. But he has to give him that choice.
He won't be Ty. He won't be another chain around Tony's throat.
"Why do you keep asking me that?" Tony asks.
Because Steve still cannot believe that he's here. That Tony stayed, when he had the choice.
"I'm here. I could have left the first week you brought me home. I'm here because I want to be here."
Steve exhales. "You never asked to bond," he whispers.
Because Tony wants to stay and he never asked for more than that--than staying.
Tony's scent spikes furious suddenly. "I will not beg," he spits, scrambling away.
Steve thinks, months late and maybe not too late, that he is an idiot.
He's a high society omega, and their traditions are--different. Antiquated and built on protocal and tradition.
An omega asking for a bond--it's not unusual, really. Not for most circles and couples.
But for a high society omega who's value is their cunt and their gender, to ask for a bond would devalue their worth.
Tony would never do that.
He's stayed.
"I'm an idiot," Steve murmurs, and pulls Tony into his arms, rigid and furious and stiff, and kisses him until he goes sweetly pliant, and licks over the skin that no longer holds a mark, silver or otherwise, presses sucking kisses and the hint of teeth until Tony is whining and squiriming in his arms and then--
Then he takes Tony to bed, and he strips him slow and sweet and worships him, kisses down his narrow chest and hte scars there, over the flare of his hips and the sweet curve of his cock, shoulders his legs wide, whorishly open and licks at his hole, wet and slick for him until Tony is clutching at his hair and writhing against the bed and coming with a scream.
And when he is knotted in the slick heat of him and his come fills him and Tony is sobbing, and begging--
Steve bites him and listens with satisfaction as his omega screams.
~
Tony is sleepy and sweet and sprawled across his chest while Steve picks through the bond, the scents and emotions and he nudges one, nascent and trembling and Tony hums softly, and curls closer, kissing Steve's throat.
"I think," he slurs, dragging Steve's hand to his belly and pressing it to a hidden promise nestled there, "that we should name her Morgan."
Steve blinks away his tears and thinks of everything he's given this man.
This is easy, the easiest promise he's ever made.
"Anything you want, sweetheart."