Language!-Fandom Madness

Starks Don't Cry

POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNING! Cuts and talks of self harm etc.

 This is a Tony Stark x Stephen Strange oneshot based off the crazy ideas in my head. Also because everyone needs a little angst every so often. I am not suicidal and would never think of self harm but I just wanted to write this because...why not?

Tony ran a greasy hand through his dark brown hair, his mind racing. Meanwhile, Stephen was reading in the living room. The inventor's face hardened and he threw a wrench across the room, shouting in rage. Strange flinched at the sound and looked in the direction of the noise. Tony was known for throwing notebooks or folders across the room. But this sounded much louder and like a heavier object.

The wizard placed a bookmark in his novel, sat up, and walked out of the living room into the garage. Thoughts of worse case scenarios ran through his head as he briskly made his way down the steps. Upon arriving, he heard another loud clatter and another shout of rage.  When he looked inside, he saw Tony's toolbox lying open on the floor with various tools scattered about the ground. His bright blue eyes wandered up to look at his lover, who was glaring off into space, his chest heaving. He entered the passcode and stepped into the garage, staying on alert and being cautious of what he said.

He placed a light hand on Tony's shoulder. "Anthony, are you okay?", he cooed softly.

Tony looked at him with sad and angry eyes. "I'm fine! Stop asking me that", the man retorted with an attitude.

Strange flinched at the tone of Tony's voice. "No, you are not fine."

"You don't know me."

"I do enough to know that if you are throwing tools across your garage then something is most definitely wrong."

Tony's face softened a bit and he sighed, pulling at the sleeves of his sweatshirt. It was a nervous habit of his and he seemed to do it more and more often. The small man sighed and looked down, avoiding Strange's eye. The wizard sighed softly and walked over to his lover, taking his hands. Tony tensed and kept a hold of his sleeves with his thumbs.

"Please look at me", Stephen whispered, stroking over Tony's worked hands.

Tony shook his head lightly and Stephen gave his hands a small squeeze, in a begging way. The brunette let out a heavy sigh before meeting his eyes, an anxious look plastered to his tired face. 

"I've gotta go...wash up", Tony muttered, before moving his hands away from Strange's and walking briskly out of the garage.

The wizard's eyes watched him leave, drawing in a breath slowly. 'He's hiding something...' he thought, looking around at his mess of workspace. With the flick of his hand, the mess was gone and the desk, tools, and other various elements were now tidy and organized. JARVIS turned off the lights as Stephen left the garage and followed Tony's steps to the bathroom. 

Inside the bathroom, Tony gripped the sides of the sink tightly. He let out a ragged breath and looked at his reflection in the mirror who was huffing back at him. Tony looked away from the mirror and slid down the side of the sink to the floor, clutching his arms to his chest tightly. With a sharp inhale, he felt hot tears prick in his eyes and he gazed at the ceiling, reminding himself of what his father always told him...

~Flashback to Tony's childhood~

It was another night at the Stark house. Howard was drunk...again and Tony's mother was off at a meeting. Tony was sitting on the couch, drawing a picture of a flying suit that a superhero would wear. He smiled at his work and decided that he'd show it off to his father. Hopping off of the couch, he headed down to his father's garage, drawing in hand.