TW: angst, stab wound, blood, death, cursing, sad boi hours
It was never meant to end this way.
If Steve had known what would happen, he never would have done what he did.
He would have stood his ground and let it go, like he should have done with a lot of other things.
But he didn't.
Instead of letting it go, Steve took charge and did what he did best- tried to fix the problem.
But, little did he know, with fixing this one problem, came many new ones.
Steve dropped to his knees beside Tony, his eyes travelling over the barely conscious mans body.
His immediate attention was drawn to the blood soaked patch of shirt over Tony's stomach, torn and frayed.
"Jesus Christ, Tony," Steve muttered, "What were you thinking?"
Tony just stared at Steve, his eyes glazed over with pain and exhaustion, oddly peaceful.
Steve reached for Tony's shirt and ripped it open, exposing the wound in his abdomen. His hands shook at the sight of the rapidly bleeding gash in Tony's flesh, but he gathered himself and paid no mind to the dreaded feeling in his own stomach.
He tore more of Tony's shirt and balled it up, holding it over the wound in a futile attempt at stopping the bleeding.
Steve's heart sank as he knelt beside Tony, the dreaded feeling only growing more amplified as he did his best to help the wounded man.
He mumbled anxiously, consoling himself more than Tony.
But, as Steve fretted over him and attempted to stem the flow of blood from his stomach, Tony only looked at him, in wonder, a small smile playing at his pale lips.
Steve took a moment to heave an exasperated sigh, glancing up at Tony's face, and noticed his smile.
"Dammit, Tony," he said, his pale blue eyes tired and desperate, "What on Earth could you possibly be smiling about right now?"
Tony didn't answer, but said softly "God, you're beautiful."
Steve pursed his lips and squeezed his eyes shut, drawing a shuddering breath.
Then Tony said, "Kiss me."
Steve whimpered and shook his head slightly, his fist clenching the balled up cloth.
"Tony-"
Tony closed his eyes, let out a dry cough, and said, "Please, Steve, kiss me."
Unwilling to refuse the dying man's wish, Steve let the bloody cloth fall from his hand and reached up to hold Tony's pale face, letting his fingers brush over his scruffy goatee and sideburns.
Tony opened his eyes slightly, his smile fading slowly, and reached a hand behind Steve's neck to draw him in closer.
Their lips touched slowly, soft and warm, fusing together into a sweet and passionate exchange.
Steve cupped Tony's face in his palms and tilted his head, relaxing ever-so-slightly into the kiss, enough for Tony to lift his other hand and wrap it around Steve's shoulders, fully embracing him.
Steve felt tears fill his eyes and he let Tony pull their bodies closer together, their chests touching and blood from Tony's wound staining Steve's clothes.
As Steve got lost in the kiss, Tony got lost in his mind. Lost in his spirit. Lost in his body.
And the body lost the spirit.
Steve felt Tony breathe his last breath, felt his heart beat it's last beat, felt his body go limp and his lips go slack.
Steve watched the arc reactor embedded in Tony's chest, once bright and shining, flicker for a moment then go dark.
Like Tony's eyes.
Steve held Tony as he died, and Steve felt his heart rip in two.
Okay so that was really short and crappy but I was bored and it was 2am leave me alone-