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[y0ur-fr13ndly-n31ghb0rh00d-n3rd]

Temptations Chapter Three

Steve’s POV: 

Steve was nursing a drink and not a very good one at that. He couldn’t get drunk, there was no point in drinking it, but Nat promised it would taste fantastic. For some reason, Steve believed her. That was a terrible idea. He frowned into his glass, looking around the room, sometimes catching vaguely familiar faces. Hill, Bruce, Clint, he thinks that’s Sharon, maybe? He could go over there and talk to her, but he won’t. No instead, he sits at the bar, suffering through the bitter, yet somehow still too sweet drink. 

An hour and a half into what was supposed to be a small get-together, Tony finally arrives with Colonel Rhodes. Steve nods at Rhodey as they get out of the lift; Rhodes nods back. 

“Ladies,” Stark announced, obnoxiously. “So sorry I was late!�� He winked. Tony actually winked at the inhabitants of his tower’s living room.

That wink. Steve knew something was off about Tony’s demeanor. Now, he didn’t know the younger Stark very well, but if he was anything like Howard; he was definitely annoyed by their presence. But the thing was; Steve didn’t know what they had done to make him so mad. It couldn’t have been the whole HYDRA thing; everyone knew Stark completely mistrusted SHIELD. That much was proved by his effort to steal their data and plans; leading both him and Steve himself to find out about The Lemurian Star. 

He shook his head, decided not to worry about it, and finally finished his drink, vowing to never listen to Natasha again. He gave his glass to one of the passing servers and walked over to the bar where Tony was going through cabinets, preheating the oven, and looking exhausted now that Steve was this close. 

“Hey.” Steve greeted, “it’s nice to see you again Tony.” He smiled. Tony; however, glared at him through his sleep-deprived haze. Steve faltered, not sure why Stark was mad at him, but he didn’t want to anger him further. He hesitated before deciding to just go ahead and say it. “Is, um, everything alright, Tony?” 

His expression darkened further. 

Tony’s POV: 

That fucking popsicle actually had the nerve to ask if he was okay. Is he serious? Do I look okay? Do I look at all interested in talking to him? Tony thought. He knew the exact moment Rogers realized his mistake. He glared harder, and Cap’s face fell. That surprised Tony; he didn’t expect him to actually care how he was doing, especially when he knew Tony almost died recently and he did nothing. His mood darkened again. Rogers didn’t even try to reach out or offer to help. No, Cap spent every day of the last two months running around DC and running errands for SHIELD. 

 An uncomfortable shuffle from Steve snapped him out of his thoughts. He realized he probably should’ve at least spoken to Cap. 

“Do I look alright?” He sneered, settling on sarcasm. 

“I- um. I’m sorry I asked,” he  muttered. Steve got a strange look on his face, one that made  Tony feel incredibly guilty. Steve turned around, leaving him alone with his thoughts, which was a terrible thing to do. Though he ignored it, Tony suddenly got the horrible idea of asking Rogers to come back .

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Temptations Chapter Two

Tony’s POV:

Tony sighed,—fighting sleep—finished off his Scotch, and because he no longer had a fully functional kitchen, just threw his glass at the wall.  The room needed cleaning anyway, but alas; that’s a task for another day. Right now, Tony is supposed to be getting on a jet and flying back to Manhattan to host a get-together with the Avengers and Fury’s backup dancers. But to Rhodey's dismay, he’s not actually doing that. No, instead, Tony is sitting on the floor in the room that used to be his living room but is now his half-built kitchen. 

His alarm, telling him he is late to meet Rhodey, suddenly goes off, startling him awake, and causing him to fall backward and hit his head on what he’s pretty sure is a paint can. He curses loudly before turning the alarm off and finally standing, getting off the dust-covered floor. As he stands, he stretches and winces as his back pops. Jarvis’ voice fills the room.

“Sir? Colonel Rhodes is waiting for you at the airport. He has your jet ready.”

Tony scowled. He was slightly bitter, but it wasn’t because of Rhodey: it was because he had to go and spend time with the people that could’ve left him, Pepper, Happy, and Rhodey himself to die. 

“Yep, okay, I’m on my way, J.” Tony smirked, “tell him I apologize for being fashionably late. Oh! And start the Audi.”

Steve’s pov:

Steve, now freshly tight-shirted and showered, climbed into the back of the SHIELD-issued SUV and decided he was going to try and text, maybe, he thinks it’s called, Rhodey to try and find out if Tony was going to be there in time, or if he’ll have to take a detour. 

Steve signed, though he was smiling slightly, and shook his head. He wasn’t surprised to learn that Howard and Tony had picked up on the same habits, both choosing to drink first and then arrive an hour and a half later “fashionably late.” 

He wasn’t going to tread on that information for long, however. Steve knew Natasha lived in New York. He also knew Nat had known Tony longer and probably knew of his habits, which meant she’d be waiting until later to show up at the tower. Steve could hopefully just wait with her. Maybe even ask if she knew anything about- no. Stop. Steve will not think about Bucky right now. Bucky needs some space, Steve needs to be able to have fun, and he can’t do that if he’s worried about Bucky. No. Instead, he was going to read a book. He happened to bring The Hobbit, which was Buck’s favorite book. He had read it 12 different times in the years 1937-1945. Alas, there he goes thinking about Bucky again. Steve shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment before reopening them and starting to read again. 

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Temptations Chapter One

Tony’s Pov:

It was a fairly terrible day, a fairly terrible month, actually, for Anthony Stark. His house was destroyed, the love of his life almost died twice, he was chained to a bed for HOURS, and the world almost ended again. And did he get any help from SHIELD?  No. Fury’s boy band was off helping the extremely outdated supersoldier. 

Steve’s Pov:

HYDRA. 

What was Steve supposed to do with this new information? Bucky was still alive, his best friend since childhood . Buck was still alive ! But he was gone… he is missing. But he’s alive ! That’s all Steve could hope for. In fact, that’s all he could think about as he got ready to meet Tony, a few avengers, and some of the other SHIELD members at Avengers Tower. Steve grabbed some clothes, a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and the rest of the clothes he needed before running down the hall to take a shower. 

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I’m walking through Central Park, a rare moment of quiet in the city’s endless, throbbing pulse. My steps are deliberate, almost mechanical, the click of my shoes against the pavement cutting through the silence. It's late, nearly midnight, and the park is practically deserted. I prefer it this way—no one around to interrupt my thoughts.

As I pass a dimly lit path, something rustles in the bushes to my left. I stop, my eyes narrowing. A raccoon. Its little eyes are glowing, watching me, cautious but not scared. It's sifting through a discarded fast-food bag, rummaging for scraps. For a moment, I’m irritated. The sight of this dirty, disgusting creature ruining the park’s aesthetic—this perfect, curated environment—disgusts me.

I crouch down slowly, tilting my head, watching it closely. It pauses, glancing up at me, frozen for a second. Then, it goes back to rifling through the trash.

"Do you have any idea how much that suit costs?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper, though laced with sarcasm. "No, of course, you don’t. You're just a mindless little scavenger, aren’t you?"

The raccoon doesn't respond. Obviously. It’s still too preoccupied with the burger wrapper clutched in its paws.

"Pathetic," I mutter, more to myself. I inch closer. "You live off other people's waste, don't you? Just like the people I see every day. They feed off my success, off my carefully constructed persona. But they're as filthy as you are. Less honest, at least."

I find myself smiling, though I don't know why. The raccoon lifts its head again, as if sensing the shift in mood, and scurries a few feet back. I stand up, straightening my coat, the smile slipping into something more sinister.

"I could crush you so easily," I murmur. "Break your little neck, leave you here to rot. No one would care. No one would even notice. Just another dead thing in this city of decay."

But instead, I turn and walk away, leaving the raccoon to its scavenging. As much as the thought appeals to me, there’s no thrill in it. Not tonight.

I glance back once, catching its beady little eyes in the dim light, and for a fleeting moment, I wonder which one of us is more out of place in this city.