Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“OMG, dude, this is not happening. You are not kidding. Tony STARK?” Clint exclaimed, then immediately started laughing. He was reading Steve’s assigned room details from the printed paper Steve had handed him a minute earlier.

They were sitting in the diner, sipping their drinks while waiting for the rest of the friend group to arrive. For now it was just Steve, his childhood friend Bucky, his new roommate Sam, and Clint, who was currently choking on air as he tried not to laugh so hard. Clint had always been the one to find humor in other people’s misery, which only made Steve roll his eyes harder. Heat climbed into Steve’s face. He rolled his eyes, grumbled under his breath, and thunked his forehead against the table.

“Come on, pal, it can’t be that bad,” Bucky said. He set a steady hand on Steve’s shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. He was snickering a little himself, the situation a bit too ridiculous not to find funny. Bucky and Steve had known each other since they were kids, which meant Bucky was an expert at enjoying Steve’s pain while still pretending to be supportive.

“What’s going on here? What is the matter with the Stark kid?” Sam asked, still new to the group and trying to catch up. Sam had only started living with Bucky this semester, moving into the apartment when the lease opened up. He was fresh to Boston University, and as a newbie, he was not aware of all the MIT drama from last year. Bucky, as Steve’s best friend, had heard all of it, even though he was not an MIT student like the rest of their friend group. Most of the group were MIT students, except for Bucky, who studied at BU, and now Sam.

“He… hah… oh man… hah… I can’t. He is…” Clint struggled to get the sentence out, still laughing and trying to pull himself together.

Steve lifted his head from the table and finished for him, shooting Clint an annoyed look. “I was assigned a new roommate this year since my last one graduated, and it is Tony Stark.”

“And it is a bad thing because…?” Sam prompted, still confused.

“Well, he is… umm… well…” Steve started mumbling, not sure how to finish. They all knew about him, but Steve still felt too uncomfortable to say aloud what he was thinking.

“He is an asshole,” Bucky finished, rescuing Steve from having to do it himself.

“Who is?” Natasha asked as she, Thor, and Bruce joined their table.

“Apparently Stark,” Sam said as the rest sat down, looking at the menus.

“No surprise there. What did he do this time?” It was Bruce who spoke, annoyance slipping into his tone. He was the only one among them who had met Stark in person, and he was not impressed. Apparently, they shared some lab hours, and Bruce had not been happy with the kid’s attitude from day one.

Bruce was used to working with different kinds of people of all ages. Being in his mid-twenties and working on his PhD, he had been around enough undergrads to handle nearly any personality without losing his patience. Steve and Bucky were the youngest at nineteen. am, who had served several years in the military before starting college, was technically a freshman but nearly twenty-three. Clint and Natasha, both juniors, were around the same age and inseparable to the point of celebrating their twentieth birthdays together over the summer, even though they were two months apart.

Bruce also taught some freshman classes as part of his program, so it was not unusual for him to deal with students far younger than himself. Still, something about the Stark kid had cut through his usual tolerance like it wasn’t even there. No one knew the exact details, but after the first time they met, Bruce had been so angry it looked like he could break through walls with the force of his temper alone. It had taken the combined efforts of all of them, and over a week, to calm him down. Afterward, no one wanted to ask for details or pry for information, too wary of provoking the same reaction.

“Nothing,” Steve began to say, but he was interrupted by Bucky.

“Yet,” Bucky added, smirking at Steve, who was now glaring at him.

Clint finally calmed down and handed the piece of paper to Natasha, who was sitting next to him. She read it carefully, a small smirk appearing on her face. Steve was not sure what to make of that, honestly. Thor was leaning over her shoulder from the other side, reading along.

“So you are bunking up with Tony,” Thor exclaimed, far too joyfully and loudly. Bruce huffed in annoyance.

“Yes, and I don’t know what to do… help?” Steve said pleadingly.

“Can someone explain what’s going on? What’s wrong with the kid?” Sam asked, his patience thinning.

Bruce, clearly not wanting to be part of that explanation, stood up, asked for everyone’s orders, and headed to the cash register. The rest of them launched into a long, tag-teamed story, finishing each other’s sentences like a well-oiled machine.

“So technically, we never personally met him,” Natasha began. “We only know about him and, of course, what Bruce told us… and well, we will get there. So he was taking some college classes last year, and in that one year alone, he managed to get quite a reputation.”

“They also say he is a real genius, but who knows,” Clint continued. “One thing is clear, though, he is way more into partying and sleeping with everyone around him than actually studying in college.”

“They say he took classes, and I guess technically he did, but no one actually saw him in a single class, so who knows,” Steve continued matter-of-factly. “He showed up on gossip pages more than in lectures.”

“Yeah, I remember reading about his orgy in the news,” Bucky said, laughing. “The kid has no self-control, and I think he was, what, seventeen? Wild.”

“Huh… I remember that scandal. Stark Industries released some statement, right?” Sam chimed in, starting to picture the situation.

“Yep, and he disappeared for a month after that,” Nat confirmed. “When he came back, he was exactly the same. Guess laying low lasted only a few weeks.”

“Anyway,” Steve said, bringing everyone’s attention back to the current problem, “long story short, he is arrogant, drunk half the time, only cares about parties, and treats most people like they are beneath him. Like he is too good for friends.” He was getting more annoyed just talking about it. Steve had zero tolerance for that kind of behavior.

“Ooh, okay. I get all that, and I see why that is not a good foundation for being a roommate, but what’s the deal with Bruce?” Sam asked, glancing toward the counter where Bruce was still waiting to order. It was the lunch hour rush, no surprise there. “I don’t think he would have gotten this annoyed over rumors. I don’t know him as well as you guys, but he doesn’t seem like that kind of person.”

“Because he is not. Bruce is usually very patient and tolerant,” Thor immediately jumped in to defend his friend. So typical of him, Steve thought.

“So…” Sam prompted again.

“He is actually the only one of us who met him personally, and let’s just say he was not impressed,” Clint started, but was immediately interrupted by Nat.

“I have never seen him, or anyone, for that matter, so upset and angry.”

The whole table, except for Sam, shuddered at the memory.

“I can’t really imagine being in the same room and sharing space with him. Good luck, Steve,” Clint said, snickering.

“Very funny. Can we change the subject of my misery, please?” Steve whined childishly.

“Can’t you do anything about it, pal? Have you even tried?”

“Yes, Bucky, of course… no point. It’s final.” After taking a breath, he continued, “He is also a freshman, which I still don’t understand, if he was taking classes all last year. Maybe he failed, I don’t know. Anyway, you know their schedule is so… not very structured, and that was hard enough to go through once. Now I need to do that all over again with him… uhhh.”

That was when Bruce finally joined them, asking what they were talking about, clearly hoping the subject had changed. Steve decided not to irritate his friend further and moved on to asking about everyone’s new schedules and living arrangements. Classes were starting soon, and everyone was happy to catch up after the summer break. There was nothing more to discuss about his living situation. Nothing else could be done, and starting next week, he would be living with Tony Stark. His sophomore year was not starting the way he wished it would.

It was going to be a long year for sure.

Steve’s new roommate would be arriving tomorrow. For now, he still had one last day of peace and quiet in his dorm room. His friends, especially Bucky, always made fun of him for caring so much about that, but Steve had always liked routine and structure. He thrived on it. It was one of the things that connected him to his father, who had instilled discipline, structure, and physical training in him from an early age, hoping he might one day follow the family’s military tradition.

That structure, along with exercise, medication, and the constant support of his loving mother, had helped him overcome his childhood illnesses. Even so, he chose not to pursue the military path, instead going for an art major. His father was still proud and supportive, especially when Steve earned a full sports scholarship. After a growth spurt in high school, Steve had gotten into athletics, including football, which eventually led him to MIT, where he could follow his true passion for art. Art had always been the one place where he let himself go completely, without rules, without strict guidelines, allowing his creativity to move freely in a way the rest of his life never did.

Now, even in college, he kept to the routines he had built over the years. Just the thought of some party-obsessed freshman moving in and disrupting that peace was already stressing him out.

After last week’s lunch with his friends, Steve had some time to get used to the idea and mentally prepare. His current game plan was to be polite. He decided to give Stark the benefit of the doubt and start fresh, the same way he would with anyone else. He had not met Stark personally yet, and technically, Stark was supposed to be an adult now, more mature. Maybe the summer had been enough time for him to turn things around, and maybe he would not be that bad after all.

Taking a deep breath, Steve straightened from his neatly made bed in his small dorm room, the narrow space was sparsely decorated, everything in its place, a reflection of the way he lived. He reached for his running shoes. He had the whole day to himself, and he planned to enjoy it. Standing up, he moved toward the door, running his fingers through his short, blond hair in an attempt to tame his bedhead. He was going for an early run, but he still did not want to look like a homeless person.

The second he opened his door to step into the hallway, a tall, slim guy with sharp features and an impatient expression barged in without even glancing at him. The stranger turned, opened his mouth to speak, closed it again, did a double take as he looked Steve over, and then opened his mouth once more.

“You are not Stark.”

Already annoyed, Steve’s blue eyes narrowed, “Excuse me? Who are you?”

The guy had the audacity to huff and kept talking, though Steve could not tell who exactly he was addressing. “That little shit lied to me… God, it was one simple favor and he couldn’t even do it, that selfish asshole…”

“Hey, I do not like repeating myself. Who are you?” Steve’s patience was wearing thin.

“Uhh, sorry, dude. Was just looking for Stark. That asshole gave me this dorm number.”

“Well, he is moving in tomorrow, but I am not sure coming back here is a good idea. Find him somewhere else.” Steve could not believe Stark was not even here yet and he was already dealing with his problems. Why was this his life?

The guy looked like he wanted to argue, and he probably would have if it were not for Steve’s broad shoulders and imposing build.. Steve had grown used to his build after years of being a scrawny kid, but it still surprised him sometimes how much of an effect it had on people. In this case, he was glad for it, as the stranger mumbled something under his breath and left the room.

Steve hoped this would not become his new normal. In an attempt to forget the incident and move on with his day, Steve shook himself once and headed out for his run.

Unfortunately, the next morning started in a similar way, with someone barging in. This time, it was Stark. Steve only guessed it was him from the attitude alone. He came in, tossed a suitcase onto the bed Steve was not sitting on, and kept talking on the phone, completely ignoring him, as if Steve were not even there. Steve honestly considered heading out for a run right then just to avoid the situation, but his mother had raised him to be too polite for that.

Steve was getting increasingly annoyed, trying to catch Stark’s attention, but Stark did not so much as glance his way. He kept his back turned, unpacking while occasionally humming or muttering “uh-huh” to whoever was on the other end of the call. Five full minutes passed before Steve decided this could not continue and cleared his throat.

Stark turned around, and for a moment, Steve thought he had startled him. Or maybe that reaction was just part of an act. He was not sure. Stark did a double-take, looked him over from head to toe, mumbled a goodbye into the phone, and hung up.

“Hello,” Steve said at last, when it became clear Stark was not going to start the conversation. He could not help letting a touch of annoyance seep into his voice. Stark kept looking at him in this oddly amused way, smiling for reasons Steve could not guess, and he did not like it.

“Hi… hey… umm, I’m Tony.”

“I know who you are,” Steve replied matter-of-factly. So much for his plan to start fresh.

“Umm… yeah, sure, of course. You’re Steve, right?” Stark continued before Steve could answer. “Well, I think we were supposed to meet during orientation, but you know… busy guy, R&D to run, business to learn, busy, busy. Umm… also, you’re a sophomore, so not like you would have been there, but maybe you went to meet me, I don’t know… anyway, I wasn’t there, so…” His voice trailed off.

Steve was left staring, confused. Was Stark accusing him of skipping orientation, even though Stark had skipped it himself? And what was that about R&D? Busy? Yeah, right, Steve thought.

The silence stretched as Steve tried to process what had just happened. He was still assessing the situation when Stark suddenly turned around, muttered something under his breath, and went back to unpacking with a heavy sigh.

Now Steve was certain this was going to be a long year.

Chapter Text

Tony was finally allowed to go to college like any other normal teenager after high school graduation. Not that “normal” had ever been a setting he came with. He had actually graduated from high school at twelve. Apparently, “genius” was not a good enough reason for his dad to let him loose on a campus full of hormonal disasters back then, so he’d been benched until further notice.

That was not to say he had not gone to college at all. He had earned a degree from Harvard through online courses in Computer Science and had even taken several classes at MIT the year before to prove he could handle it. Spoiler: he could. Easily. He was not sure that proving himself had been his only motivation. For years he had been working in the R&D department at Stark Industries, and taking in-person classes had shown that he could balance academic work with project deadlines. It was basically a live demo for Howard and the board to say look, I can juggle your billion-dollar prototypes and a term paper without setting either on fire. That, apparently, was enough to convince his father to let him attend university in person.

Technically, this was his second bachelor’s degree, and he was pursuing a double major in Mechanical Engineering and Electrical Engineering. His first degree, earned online from Harvard, was in Computer Science, followed by a master’s in Quantum Computing. Because why stop at one degree when you can hoard them like Infinity Stones? He was already considering a PhD or another master’s after finishing this one, but that was a problem for future Tony.

Right now, he was excited about starting at MIT and getting a fresh start. People would, of course, recognize him, not just from the years of news coverage, most of it exaggerated or outright false, but also from the brief time he had attended classes here the year before. Those had been master's level courses, so at least not many undergrads in his major or living in the bachelor dorms were likely to have seen him in person. He hoped that would keep things quiet and in the past where it belonged. Not that he expected people to believe the truth. Lies came with better headlines. Still, he was cautiously optimistic, and more than a little nervous about the possibility of turning over a new leaf here.

By the time he reached MIT, the nerves had fully set in. He was standing in front of his dorm with a single suitcase, the rest of his things scheduled to arrive later in the week. It was not much, but some of his devices and tech for classes were in that shipment. Translation: the fun toys were still in transit. For now, this one suitcase was all he needed.

He had been standing there for ten minutes, heart thudding, unsure how to proceed. It was early, and he did not know if anyone would be awake on his way to his room. The nerves were relentless. As always, the first solution that came to mind was Jarvis. Not that there was anyone else he could think of. Aside from his parents, everyone in his life fell into one of two categories: colleagues or people he knew he could never trust. He had no real friends, so he could hardly call anyone else. College brochures never advertise the part where you walk in knowing exactly zero people who aren’t paid to put up with you.

So, Jarvis it was. He pulled out his phone and called him.

“Umm… Jarvis?” Tony began quietly.

“Hello, Anthony dear. Did you get to your dorm safely?” Jarvis said warmly. Just hearing that voice was like flipping a switch, the nerves in his chest loosened, and his breathing evened out. Jarvis had that effect on him, always had.

“Yes… well, not technically. I’m outside,” he trailed off, knowing the older man would understand.

“Ah, yes. First days of college can be very stressful. I’m sorry I couldn’t come with you.”

“No, no, Jarvis. I know you’re busy, and you know how Howard gets, so it’s fine. He’s right anyway, I am mature enough to handle things on my own. No need for a babysitter, huh?” Tony chuckled to himself. Those words were clearly not his own, and he was sure Jarvis understood.

“Listen to me, dear. We will do this together. Now move along, I know you can. Just enter the building and try to find your dorm.”

Tony glanced up at the tall brick facade of the dorm building, all red and gold in the morning light, windows catching the sun like they were daring him to come inside. His grip tightened on the handle of his scuffed but expensive-looking suitcase. The lobby inside was quiet, polished floors and muted lighting, smelling faintly of coffee and industrial cleaner, the kind of neutral space that didn’t give anything away.

Tony knew exactly what Jarvis was doing. It always helped him. This way, he still felt like he was not alone, and by focusing on Jarvis’s voice, he found himself walking toward his new home.

After getting confirmation from Tony that he was moving, Jarvis launched into one of his long tangents about everything and nothing at all. The steady, British cadence of his family’s butler was soothing. Tony paid more attention to the sound than the actual words, using it to clear his mind and block out his surroundings. With one goal in mind, he moved toward his room, opened the door, and went straight to the bed he knew was assigned to him. 

He set his suitcase down and began methodically unpacking while humming along to Jarvis, who was now describing in detail the ingredients of a shepherd’s pie he was considering making that evening.

He was not sure how long he stayed in that state, but he felt calmer, and the unpacking was going smoothly. Suddenly, he was pulled out of it by someone clearing their throat. Tony startled and turned around to see a broad-shouldered blond in a fitted T-shirt and running shorts, his hair still messy from sleep but somehow managing to look intentional. He had striking blue eyes that were fixed on Tony with mild suspicion, and a presence that seemed to take up all the oxygen in the room.

He could not stop staring. How could someone be this beautiful? Not just anyone, his new roommate. Steve, if he remembered correctly. Somewhere during his staring, he mumbled his goodbye to Jarvis and hung up.

An involuntary smile started creeping onto his face, which he tried to suppress but probably ended up looking more like a grimace. Before he could think of something to say, Steve spoke first.

“Hello.” He did not exactly sound happy to meet Tony. Maybe he had just woken up and was grumpy. Tony could relate to that. Deciding to ignore it, Tony started.

“Hi… hey… umm, I’m Tony.” Good job, Stark, way to sound cool. He was so nervous his palms were sweating. He had promised himself this would be different, not like school. He would do everything he could to actually make some friends, and this was his chance.

“I know who you are.”

How had Tony already managed to annoy him? Then it clicked, and before he could stop himself, Tony started talking.

“Umm… yeah, sure, of course. You’re Steve, right?” Tony continued, and then found himself rambling for nearly a full minute. “Well, I think we were supposed to meet during orientation, but you know… busy guy, R&D to run, business to learn, busy, busy. Umm… also, you’re a sophomore, so it’s not like you would have been there, but maybe you went to meet me, I don’t know… anyway, I wasn’t there, so…” His voice trailed off.

Steve was looking at him now with narrowed eyes, like Tony had done something wrong. He was not sure how he had already managed to screw this up. Steve suddenly huffed to himself and seemed to roll his eyes.

Yeah. Tony was done with this. Maybe he could try again later.

“Yeah, whatever,” he mumbled to himself, pretty sure Steve had not heard as he turned back to unpacking. What was wrong with him? One conversation, and his roommate was already annoyed. That was the Tony Stark effect for you.

They did not talk much after that. The first couple of weeks were spent almost constantly avoiding each other. Well, at least Tony was avoiding Steve. At least until he could come up with a better plan to try to befriend him. He did not really know anyone else here, and going to regular classes had not helped. The only people who wanted to talk to him were those trying to get him to help with their projects, and they were not even subtle about it.

Now the rumor was that he was not only an asshole but also actually stupid, that his father was paying for him to stay here, and that he would definitely buy his good grades, all because he had refused to help them cheat. Great. A nice upgrade in reputation, actually: asshole and stupid instead of whore and drunk. Progress, nonetheless. Although he was fairly sure the whore-and-drunk rumor was still floating around.

So his only hope for a potential friend was his roommate. Especially after last year’s failed attempt to befriend a guy he had met in one of the labs he worked in at the time. He seemed like a decent enough guy, Bruce if he was not mistaken. His work had been interesting, but Tony did not really want to think about how that had ended. So yes, Steve was his best shot, and until Tony figured out how to make a genuine connection, he would do his best to avoid him.

Tony had even checked out a book from the library on how to make friends, called Friendship: Development, Ecology, and Evolution of a Relationship by Daniel J. Hruschka. It was worth a try. He read it at night when Steve was asleep. Technically, he did almost everything at night. Not only did it make it easier to avoid Steve, but he also liked the peace and quiet, when he could not only study the art of friendship but also work on his projects for both classes and R&D. He was usually fine getting some sleep in the afternoon after classes. 

This particular afternoon, however, he was heading back to his dorm much later than he usually would. He had been up all night working on his latest project and had almost been late to class. And on top of all that, he had to encounter Justin Hammar today.

The Hammer kid never stopped bothering him, even after the first couple of days when it became clear that Tony was refusing to give him, as Justin called it, a “simple favor.” That favor was essentially the bulk of Tony’s creative ideas and projects. He still was not sure how Justin had found out which dorm he lived in. Maybe he had overheard it somewhere. Maybe he had hacked into a computer at the administration desk, though Tony doubted he was smart enough to pull that off on his own. More likely, he had roped someone else into doing it for him or simply snuck around until he figured it out.

Whatever the method, Justin had shown up at Tony’s dorm several times, nearly causing a scene in the hallway. Eventually, he stopped coming by, but that did not mean he stopped harassing Tony between classes.

That day, he was even more persistent. He waited right outside Tony’s classroom, and the moment Tony stepped into the hallway, Justin grabbed him by the wrist and shoved him back against the wall. The impact made the back of Tony’s head knock hard against it, sending a sharp jolt of pain down his neck.

For a split second, the pain and the sudden closeness made his chest tighten. His pulse kicked up, a mix of nervousness and anger threading through him. But under it all was the determination not to give Justin a single thing he wanted. 

“Come on, Stark,” Justin said, leaning in with an eager grin that felt more like a threat. “We should be working together. I know those ideas aren’t just yours, and you know I could do something good with them. You’re wasting your time keeping them to yourself.”

Tony glared at him. “For the last time, no. And for the record, every single idea in my portfolio is mine. You are not getting any of them.”

Justin’s grip on his wrist tightened, the pressure almost painful. “You think you’re too good to collaborate with me? You think you can do better on your own?”

“I know I can do better on my own,” Tony snapped, trying to pull his arm free. “And I’ve told you, I don’t work with people who can’t respect the word ‘no.’”

Justin leaned in closer, still holding him against the wall. “You’ll change your mind. Everyone does.”

“Not me.”

With a sudden twist and shove, Tony managed to break his grip, pushing Justin back just enough to slip past him. His heart was pounding as he walked fast, then broke into a near-run, weaving through the hallway to put as much distance between them as possible. All he could think about was getting to his dorm and shutting the door behind him.

When he finally reached his dorm room, he was sweating slightly, his hands trembling from a mix of the fast walk, the brief jog, and sheer nerves. He had not been expecting that confrontation today. Usually, Justin was more subtle, more manipulative, but this time he really scared Tony.

Before he could step inside, he noticed the door was slightly ajar and someone was speaking from within. He recognized Steve’s voice, though it sounded like he was responding to someone, probably on the phone.

Tony knew it was not polite to eavesdrop, and he had no intention of doing so. He was already halfway through pushing the door open when he heard his own name.

“Uhhh, don’t even bring up Stark,” Steve said, his tone a mix of whining and irritation. “Nah, still the same… yeah, he’s acting weird, but I don’t know, he hasn’t done anything… yet.”

Steve gave an amused chuckle, which Tony did not find remotely funny. “No, Clint, no strippers or hookers in my dorm, thank God… No, I can’t bring you alcohol from his stash. Stop being a little shit. Honestly, I haven’t even seen him drink, but he’s up all night, so I’m not sure what else he could be doing… anyway, not why I called… yes, exactly… okay, okay, see you there soon. I gotta go.”

Tony stood frozen just outside the doorway, barely keeping himself together. He could not tell if the tightening in his chest was anger, frustration, or something closer to disappointment that made his stomach feel hollow. Every word felt heavier than it should have, sinking in deep.

Finally, he braced himself and stepped into the dorm, muttering a quiet “hello” as he headed straight for his bed. He did not bother changing into something comfortable, just climbed in and turned toward the wall, feigning sleep. He kept still until he heard the door close behind Steve. Only then did he let the tears fall, silent and hot against his pillow, the weight of the conversation pressing down until it was hard to breathe.

Chapter Text

After Steve managed to settle Clint and end the conversation, he started grabbing his things to meet him and the rest of his friends at their usual diner for lunch. Not even a minute after he began getting ready, Stark came in and went straight to bed. As Steve had told Clint, yes, he was weird, but what could he do? Stark was not actually doing anything; he was not actively being an asshole or bringing anyone back to their dorm. Although it was still the first couple of weeks of school.

At the same time, Stark was not exactly being friendly either. He mostly ignored Steve, which was not ideal for a roommate. Steve thought that maybe the rumors were right, that Stark believed he was too good for friends. The things Steve had said to Clint had mostly been jokes, but that did not mean there was not some truth in them. Still, he really did not want to think about Stark that much.

Several weeks had passed, and Steve still could not get a good read on him. Not that he cared much, but it would have been nice if the dorm was not tense whenever they were both awake, which was rare, since Stark seemed determined to ignore Steve’s existence exactly the way he had from the start. Part of Steve could not just let it go, though. It stayed in the back of his mind, getting under his skin.

For now, he pushed it aside. Lunch with his friends sounded a lot better than stewing over his roommate.

After a very pleasant afternoon with his friends, he went back to his dorm to maybe get some homework done before heading to bed. He liked to wake up early for his morning run. That was how he knew Stark worked most of the time during the night; he was still awake when Steve got up to leave. Their only exchange at that hour was usually a simple “good morning,” and that was the extent of their conversation.

When Steve returned to the dorm that day, it was no surprise to find Stark fast asleep, as he was most afternoons. What was different, however, was the ugly-looking bruise on one of his wrists. It was definitely new, dark, obvious, and impossible to miss, and Steve was certain it had not been there before. He was not exactly paying close attention to Stark on a daily basis, but something like that was hard to ignore.

He was not sure what to think. Maybe Stark had just had an accident. Still, the sight did not sit well with him. For now, though, he decided to push it aside and focus on his homework.

A week or so passed in a similar manner. However, Steve felt there was now a different kind of tension in the air. Not that it was ever completely absent between them, but this felt more charged, and he was not sure what had changed. It was not like he and his new roommate had started talking or anything, but still, he sensed the difference. He could not explain it, and he certainly could not bring it up with his friends. What would he even say?

So once again, Steve decided to push it aside and not think too deeply about it. Not that it was working. The only thing pulling him out of his thoughts was Natasha’s voice.

“So, you in?” Natasha asked, looking at him expectantly.

“What? Huh?… what are we talking about?” Steve said, confused.

“You okay, pal? You seem a little distracted,” Bucky’s voice carried genuine concern.

Clint, being his usual self, chimed in, “Is Stark keeping you up all night with his parties?”

Clint started snickering, though his amusement faded as Steve sent a glare aimed at him. “I already told you he doesn’t do anything like that. Honestly, I don’t really know what’s up with him. He does seem weird, but he’s not as wild as people say.”

“You just wait,” Bruce muttered, grumbling into his drink.

“I’m serious. Maybe he stopped and is trying the whole being-an-adult thing.” That earned a round of laughter from the group, and Steve could not help but join them.

“Although I do admit he’s being an ignorant prick… like I don’t even exist. Doesn’t he think it’s exhausting? We live together, why complicate everything? Uhhh, anyway, I don’t know why I always get carried away. Nat, what were you saying?”

Recognizing the clear dismissal, Natasha repeated, “I was asking if you’re in for movies this weekend. We might grab drinks afterward.”

“Yeah, sure, sounds good,” Steve agreed without hesitation.

Inside, though, he was still thinking about Stark, wondering why he was so stuck on him and why it irritated him so much to be ignored.

The next time he encountered Stark was definitely not what he expected. He had just left his friends after they finished planning their fun weekend together and headed back to the dorms.

When he stepped inside, he froze at the sight in front of him. Stark was very much awake, sitting on the floor with tools scattered around him, elbow-deep in a tangle of wires. A half-open computer case lay beside him, and his brow was furrowed in intense concentration.

Steve’s immediate thought was, he’s kind of adorable like this , a thought he shoved as far down as possible. What was that? What am I even thinking? That’s not right. Choosing to ignore it, Steve walked further in, offered a simple “hello,” and headed to his side of the room.

He began pulling books and notes from his backpack, trying to focus on his own work, but his mind kept drifting back to the quiet figure across the room. No matter how much he told himself to ignore it, his eyes kept flicking back toward Stark. He tried to make the glances subtle, but by the third time in five minutes, he had to admit he was watching.

That was when he noticed it. A faint, raw split on Stark’s lip, the skin slightly swollen as if it had only recently stopped bleeding. The injury looked fresh. This was the second time he had spotted something; the first had been that dark, ugly bruise circling his wrist just a week or so ago, one he had definitely not missed.

The sight twisted something in Steve’s stomach. Maybe Stark was getting into fights. It wouldn’t surprise him, especially if he had a habit of provoking people. Still, Steve felt a sharp prickle of unease. If someone was doing this to him, that was different. Steve wasn’t about to excuse throwing punches, but if Stark was acting immature, trouble would eventually find him. Even so, it didn’t explain why seeing the split lip made him want to ask questions he had no right to.

His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden phone ringing. At first, Steve glanced around, thinking it was his own, but then he spotted the device on the floor near the younger man. The screen lit up, clearly showing the contact name: Howard .

Before Steve could think much of it, Stark moved with almost frantic urgency, snatching up the phone as if the name alone demanded his immediate attention.

“Hello? Yeah… No, I—I was working on it, I’m still working on it.”

Steve froze in the middle of setting down his notebook. Stark’s voice was sharper than usual, quick and tense, like he was already on the defensive before the other person had even finished speaking.

“I didn’t say I was finished, I said I was almost done… Sir.”

Sir? Steve’s brow furrowed. Not a professor then. His chest tightened with a strange unease.

“No, you don’t understand, the wiring was faulty from the start, so I had to redo half of it… What? No! I’m not making excuses!”

The sharpness in Stark’s voice made Steve’s stomach knot. Whoever was on the other end was not just disagreeing; they were pushing, maybe even yelling. From the muffled voice on the other side it sounded like that.

“I know how important this is. I’m not wasting time.”

Steve glanced over again, catching the rigid line of Stark’s shoulders. That kind of posture wasn’t from just irritation.

“...Yes, I tested it twice. No, it’s not going to fail. I wouldn’t let it.”

A pause, then Stark flinched slightly, pulling the phone closer to his ear. “I—yes, Father.”

The word hit Steve like a cold splash of water. Father. So this was his dad. 

“I’m not being careless. I’ve been awake yesterday night for hours trying to fix the output issue. If you would just let me expl—”

Steve’s fists curled slightly on his desk. His mind kept circling back to Tony’s voice getting tighter and smaller.

He stopped abruptly, swallowing hard. “...Right. I’ll send the specs tonight.”

“No, I’m not behind schedule. I’m fine. I said I’m fine.”

The insistence was too quick, and way too defensive. 

There was a longer silence, then Stark’s voice dropped, softer, almost muttering. “Yeah. I know. I’ll do better.”

Steve felt an uncomfortable twist in his gut.

“Goodbye, Sir.”

Stark set the phone down with care, but his hand lingered there for a moment, knuckles white. Steve looked away quickly, unsure if Stark would want him to have heard any of that. 

However, Steve changed his mind quickly and decided this might be his best opportunity to try starting a conversation. He leaned back in his chair and asked lightly, “So… what was that about?”

Stark’s glare was sharp enough to shut him up instantly. 

“Mind your own business,” Stark snapped.

The words landed harder than Steve expected, but what caught him off guard even more was the way Stark immediately flinched, almost like he regretted saying them the second they left his mouth. Steve had not said or done anything to provoke it, which only made the reaction stranger. 

Before Steve could respond, Stark lowered his head and went back to his work, his posture even more tense than before. 

Well, so be it. No one could fault Steve for not trying. If they were ignoring each other, they were ignoring each other. Fine. He could live with that.

At least, that was what he kept telling himself.

Days passed, but nothing major changed. Steve began to think that maybe Tony was not as everyone pictured him to be. He was still not sure. He had never seen any of the wild behavior people claimed. These days, he suspected Tony spent most of his time studying and sleeping. Most nights, he was home, because Steve would see him in the mornings. Some nights he was not, but at this point Steve was not convinced he was out drinking or partying.

There were still rumors floating around, some people claiming they had slept with Tony. That did not make much sense to Steve, because on the nights they were talking about, Tony had actually been home. Steve could confirm it. The whole situation left him confused. Stark’s behavior was not entirely normal, but if he was not the person from the rumors, then who was he?

Steve found himself watching Tony more closely, intrigued despite himself. He finally admitted, at least privately, that there was something interesting about his roommate, though he could not define what it was. Tony could be snappish at times, but Steve tried to ignore it. By now, he was not even making an effort to start conversations, except for the occasional small talk when they happened to be awake in the same space.

He still noticed bruises, mostly on Tony’s wrists. He had not seen another split lip, so perhaps Tony was simply careless with his wires and tools. Sometimes Steve would find him in the strangest positions, sitting cross-legged or lying on his back while working on his computer. Maybe he was just clumsy. Still, the thought lingered in Steve’s mind that it did not all add up.

Steve was not sure if he actually wanted to do something about it or simply carry on with his life. They lived in the same space, and he did not want his home to become a place of constant tension. Yes, he spent most of his time with friends, especially on weekends when they always had something planned. Their new hangout spot had become Bucky and Sam’s apartment, which was off-campus and under different Boston University housing rules. They would all gather there on weekends, so it was not as if Steve was in his dorm all that much.

Still, having a place where you felt comfortable was not too much to ask. This was his dorm as well, and the ongoing silence and strain were wearing on him. Maybe he should do something about it. But what? If Tony really thought he was too good for friends, what could Steve possibly do? He was not going to run around begging some rich kid to be his friend.

Yet, there was something in the way Tony kept to himself that made Steve hesitate. It was not only suspicion anymore. Somewhere under all the unanswered questions and odd bruises, there was a pull Steve could not quite name, one that made him pay attention even when he told himself not to.

He mulled it over for several days before deciding that maybe, one last time, he would try. If it worked, it worked. If not, he would simply resign himself to living with the tension for the rest of the year. Next year, he could try to get a different roommate.

That weekend, he and his friends had planned a day at the arcade. Maybe they would end up at Bucky’s place afterward, like always, for some drinks or just to hang out. It sounded like the kind of thing he could bring someone to.

He had not brought it up with his friends yet. After days of turning it over in his head, the idea had simply come to him on his way back to the dorm. If the moment felt right, maybe he would ask Tony to join. Maybe. He was not even sure why the thought sat so firmly in his mind. Since the beginning of September, something about Stark had caught his attention, and no matter how much he told himself it was nothing, the feeling only grew. Somewhere along the way, without even noticing, Stark had become Tony in his thoughts. He did not know when that happened, and realizing it now felt strange, like he had crossed some invisible line he had not meant to.

The more he noticed, the late nights, the strange silences, the flashes of snappiness in conversation, the more he wanted to understand. None of it fit together yet. Not that they had ever had a proper conversation, not once.

Among his friends, Tony was barely even a topic anymore. Whatever curiosity there had been at the start of the semester had faded away. But Steve lived with him. He saw him, whether awake or asleep, working or half-buried in his bed. And for reasons he could not quite explain, maybe did not want to explain, Steve found himself wanting to try one more time.

Steve stepped into the dorm, letting the door click shut behind him. His eyes landed on Stark, and for a moment he forgot to breathe. The younger man was in quite possibly the most disarmingly adorable state Steve had ever seen him. He looked as though he had only just woken up, hair tousled in every direction, eyes half-lidded as he blinked around the room like he was trying to figure out what had pulled him from sleep.

Steve had never seen him like this. Stark always seemed so put-together or guarded, and now here he was, soft and unguarded in the quiet light of the room. Something in Steve’s chest twisted unexpectedly.

He cleared his throat and managed, “Hey,” the word coming out a little awkward, his cheeks heating despite his best attempt to recover.

Stark’s gaze shifted toward him, still bleary, his brow creasing in confusion.

Chapter Text

Tony woke up suddenly, disoriented. He thought he had been having a nightmare, though he couldn’t quite remember what about. Probably the usual stuff, it wasn’t new to him. He never really understood it fully; sometimes it was just his father’s voice or something intangible, but usually he shook it off within half an hour of waking.

It had only been five minutes, and he was still trying to catch his breath, eyes scanning the room, grounding himself. Then the door opened, and there was Steve. He paused for a couple of seconds, taking in Tony’s appearance, then started smiling.

Tony’s chest tightened. He wasn’t sure why, but something about that look made him feel exposed, almost insecure. It always felt like people were looking at him with some hidden agenda. And now, with that expression, maybe Steve was making fun of him. He wouldn’t have been surprised. If someone wasn’t using him for his knowledge, his money, or their fifteen minutes of fame on the news, it was usually just to mock him. There rarely seemed to be another option.

Tony blinked, even more unsure of what to do. For a moment, he spaced out, overwhelmed by Steve’s expectant gaze. Then he realized Steve might just be saying hi. Tony stumbled over his words, trying to respond.

“Umm… hi,” he managed, forcing a small smile, uncertain if it landed at all.

All the previous interactions he had ever had with Steve had been awkward. There was always some kind of tension in the air, especially since the time he overheard Steve discussing him with his friends, calling him weird. Tony knew there was no need to point it out or talk behind his back. It wasn’t surprising, but it hurt more because he had stupidly thought he might have a chance at making friends in college. His roommate seemed like a great potential, but no luck there.

Now Tony honestly didn’t know how to act in front of Steve. It didn’t help that Steve was ridiculously handsome, which made Tony even more nervous about talking to him. A couple of times when it seemed like they might have a conversation, Steve had said something that made Tony snap. He would regret it immediately, but that didn’t mean he could recover or say anything afterward. Normally, their interactions stayed at a simple, distant haze, just going about their days without further contact.

But now, even after Tony’s reply, Steve was still looking at him like he wanted to say something more.

“Well, there is this thing I wanted to talk about,” Steve started, and Tony immediately tensed. The tone was too nice and patient. Whatever it was, Tony feared it might require something from him he wasn’t ready to give. He narrowed his eyes, waiting.

Steve continued, “So there is this thing... this weekend—”

“I can’t help with projects, I have my own work,” Tony snapped, immediately flinching at his own words. Fear flickered across his eyes for a brief second before he forced them to steady. Steve was huge, and Tony did not want to deal with him physically.

Now Steve looked at him, confused, narrowing his eyes as he assessed the situation. “Not what I was asking for,” he said, huffing. “I was telling you about my plans with my friends at the arcade…” He trailed off, leaving the sentence hanging in the air.

Tony wasn’t sure what Steve wanted to say. Maybe he just hoped Tony would understand. But understand what? That Steve had friends and Tony didn’t? Is Steve making fun of me? Tony thought, a little sad. Why would he say that? Maybe it was just his brain, still fuzzy from the nightmare, but he couldn’t come up with a response.

To his utter humiliation, he felt tears welling up. He looked down, hoping to cover his face while trying to recover. He couldn’t see Steve’s expression, so he wasn’t sure if he should say anything. His fingers began fidgeting nervously in his lap.

Steve cleared his throat and continued, “Anyway, it was just an idea. You don’t have—have to join if you have better things to do…”

At that, Tony snapped his head up. Did he hear that correctly? Was he actually being asked to join an activity with Steve’s friends? Wow. If his mind were clearer and not so scrambled, he would have started overthinking Steve’s motives, imagining all the things that could go wrong. But instead, he immediately jumped out of bed, nodding frantically, his grin spreading as wide as it could.

“Yess… can I? Arcade, right? I’ve never been there, it will be fun… aha. So I need to… um…” He looked up at Steve, who now had an amused expression on his face. Tony felt a little insecure, maybe he’d jumped to the wrong conclusion. “I can come, right? You said so…” He started fidgeting again, his fingers twisting nervously.

“Aha… well, yes, that’s what I said,” Steve answered, a little confused but still amused. Maybe it was a good thing and he wasn’t making fun of Tony. Tony couldn’t believe it, he was actually going to the arcade. He needed to think of an outfit and call Jarvis. He could already feel the nerves creeping in.

“All right, well…” Steve started, probably noticing Tony spacing out again, “we’ll leave around 1 p.m. on Saturday and grab lunch there. Hope that’s fine by you.”

“Ye–yeah, good, sounds good,” Tony replied, grinning like a maniac again.

They stood in awkward silence, neither knowing what else to say. After a long pause, Steve nodded and headed to his desk, pulling out his books. Tony followed suit, already buzzing with a million thoughts, still riding high on excitement. Well, look at that, Tony Stark making friends. This was going to be awesome.

It had been a couple of days since Steve’s invite, and Tony was getting progressively nervous. Even talking to Jarvis didn’t help as much as he hoped. He wished Jarvis could be here—daily calls weren’t enough. Tony knew it might be silly, but Jarvis was his everything, the only person who had genuinely always been there for him. Sometimes he worried he annoyed the older man with his constant calls, but Jarvis never said anything, and Tony was too selfish to ask.

Today was Saturday, and they would be heading out soon. Steve was in the shower, getting ready, while Tony had been prepared for over an hour, sitting on his bed, fidgeting impatiently.

When Steve stepped out of the shower, he looked Tony up and down. Tony had chosen a simple but carefully considered outfit—dark slim jeans, a fitted light gray shirt, and clean sneakers. He had spent hours deciding, scouring forums and articles, even taking Jarvis’s advice to keep it casual but not overdressed.

Under Steve’s gaze, Tony felt a rush of insecurity. Were his clothes inappropriate for the occasion? Was it how he had styled his hair? Tony couldn’t be sure, and the uncertainty made his stomach twist.

After a moment, Steve looked Tony in the eyes and smiled. “Oh, you’re already ready?”

Tony nodded without thinking, his mind still spinning.

“Good, I’ll be ready soon. Just give me fifteen minutes.”

“Ye–yeah, of course,” Tony stammered, immediately hating how clumsy he sounded. He could be smooth with his scientist colleagues or in rare interviews for Stark Industries, so why was this so difficult?

Steve went back to getting ready, and Tony’s mind started spiraling again, imagining every possible scenario—starting with him failing spectacularly at the arcade games, and somehow ending with forgetting his pants, which was ridiculous because he was wearing them.

Soon enough, they were on their way. Steve was driving, and Tony realized he hadn’t even known the blonde had a car. They drove in silence, though the radio helped fill the air with something other than tension.

Tony was fidgety the entire ride. When they arrived and exited the car, Steve glanced at his phone. “Everyone else is already inside, waiting to order,” he mentioned casually.

A sudden thought struck Tony—maybe they had invited him just so he would pay for their lunch. He would probably have done it anyway, but the idea stung. With a pang of sadness, Tony followed behind Steve and entered the building, trying to hide his nerves and disappointment.

Tony was giving himself a silent pep talk on the way to the table when he was startled by Steve’s voice.

“Hey guys, this is To–”

“What the hell is he doing here? God, Steve,” a voice cut in. A grimace that had been forming on Tony’s face froze in place. This was the guy—Bruce—from last year. Yeah, that hadn’t gone as planned. Tony’s stomach twisted, heat rising to his face, and he felt a tight knot of panic in his chest. He wanted to disappear. Now he looked at Bruce sheepishly, wishing he could vanish into the floor.

“H–hi… um, Bruce, right? Sorry about that, I–”

“I just… I can’t,” Bruce huffed angrily and stormed away from the table.

Tony was left standing at the head of the table next to Steve, utterly humiliated. His heart pounded, his hands trembled slightly, and he felt a burning flush creeping up his neck and ears. He glanced nervously at everyone, trying to understand the situation, and only grew more flustered with each passing second. Every pair of eyes on him felt magnified, judging him, mocking him. Was this why Steve had invited him here?

Before he could spiral further, he heard someone speak.

“I’ll go after him,” a big, muscular blonde said, following Bruce.

“What’s going on, pal?”

“Are we having an orgy?” someone mumbled, laughing to themselves, and Tony felt his chest tighten further, a fresh wave of panic washing over him.

“Steve, you never said–” the only girl at the table began, but she was cut off by the guy next to her.

Tony noticed he had been staring at him the whole time with an amused expression, trying not to laugh. Tony’s stomach lurched, and he swallowed hard, wishing he could somehow vanish. His mind raced through every possible mistake he might have made, his embarrassment spiraling higher with every second.

“Oh my god, is he going to cry? Hey, Stark?” the guy said. Not that he sounded mean, per se, just matter-of-fact, like he had only just noticed.

Steve turned to look at him at that moment, and the expression on Steve’s face—a mix of confusion and concern—finally broke him.

Tears started spilling over, and without knowing what else to do, he bolted out of the building into the fresh air. Someone called his name behind him, but he didn’t care. His chest heaved, his vision blurred, and every step felt like it was fueled by panic rather than control. When he was outside, he glanced around frantically and ran to hide in the nearest alley, hugging himself as if it could hold back the storm of embarrassment inside him.

He couldn’t stop crying. His thoughts spun uncontrollably, each one sharper than the last: why did he come, why did he even try, why did everyone have to see him like this? The only voice he wanted, no—the only voice he needed—right now was his favorite butler’s. Shaking, he pulled out his phone and dialed, hoping desperately that the older man wouldn’t be too busy to answer.

“Anthony? Hello, darling. Aren’t you supposed to be with your friends? At the arcade, wasn’t it?”

Tony couldn’t help the sob that escaped, his hands trembling as he gripped the phone.

“It was all a lie, Jarvis,” he said through hiccuping sobs, his heartbeat thudding painfully in his chest.

“Oh, my sweet boy, I am so sorry.”

“They never wanted me there. Steve never did… the rest didn’t even know I was coming, and they made it pretty clear what they all thought of me.” He paused, struggling to draw in a shaky breath while Jarvis waited patiently. “I mean, I know I’m not easy to deal with, but they didn’t have to, if they didn’t want to. I wasn’t hurting anyone. I was so stupid… and—and I got so excited that I was finally going to make friends… uhhh… so stupid.”

“You are not stupid, my boy. You hear me? You are the kindest, most generous, and loyal friend they could ever ask for.”

“But I’m not. They just wanted to humiliate me, make fun of me… remember Bruce from last year? He was there, and I don’t know if he told Steve and everyone, but he was there, and he wasn’t nice.”

“Did he do something?” Jarvis asked urgently, concern clear in his tone.

“No, no, Jarvis, no worries. I’m not hurt…” Tony’s sobs were slowly subsiding, though silent tears still spilled from his hazel eyes. “They just… why would they do that? Does Steve really hate me that much? I just wanted a friend…” he finished miserably, his voice cracking.

“I know, dear, I know. Tell you what… you go ahead and head home now. No need to stay out. I’m sure it’s called there, and I will come down tomorrow morning, and we can have our own day.”

“No, no, you don’t have to come. I’m not a child, you know,” Tony said, chuckling softly, still wiping at his tears.

“Well, I never said you were, my boy.” Tony could almost hear the smile in his voice. “And listen to me, if they act like that, they are not your friends. I am sure that one day you will find friends who deserve to be in your presence, and they will absolutely adore you, Anthony.”

“Yeah, right…” he trailed off without finishing, the words tasting hollow, but he didn’t want to continue. “Thank you, Jarvis, and I would love it if you came tomorrow. I really miss you.”

“I miss you too, Anthony. This house is far too quiet without you.” Tony laughed a little at that, feeling lighter, his trembling hands finally easing.

“Love you, Jarvis. I’ll text when I get home.”

“Love you too, my sweet boy.”

When he finally finished the call, he straightened himself, taking slow, calming breaths before leaving the alley. There was no point in staying and dwelling on it. It had been his fault for getting his expectations so high; he should have known better.

The second he stepped out, he bumped into someone built like a brick wall. Lifting his eyes, he realized it was Steve.

Steve had the audacity to look at him with concerned eyes. Tony didn’t know what to do. He stumbled back, trying to mask the worry and lingering panic in his own gaze. He still wasn’t sure what Steve would do.

Steve opened his mouth to speak.

“Hey, I was looking for you, I—”

Tony cut him off before he could finish. “No, I’m not going back there. I’m going home.”

“Okay, um… I’ll drive you,” Steve suggested.

Tony’s eyes immediately flashed with fear. He stepped back, shaking his head frantically.

“No, it’s fine,” he mumbled eventually, turning sharply and walking as fast as he could toward their dorm. It was a twenty-five-minute walk, but he could handle it.

By the time he got home, he was breathless, cold, and exhausted. He collapsed onto his bed, trying not to think about the whole situation and doing his best to ignore his grumbling stomach.

Chapter Text

Steve was not sure what to think or feel. He was concerned for Tony, angry at his friends, and angry at himself for not thinking ahead and letting them know. It had never been an issue before when they wanted to invite someone, and they had not discussed Tony in quite some time, so it never occurred to him that something might go wrong.

God, he had made the younger man cry. He felt like an absolute jerk. And he was one.

When he ran after Tony, he had found him in an alley, talking to someone on the phone and sobbing. The sight had broken Steve’s heart. Tony had actually thought Steve did this on purpose to humiliate him, while the younger man had seen it as an opportunity for him to make friends. Now that Steve thought about it, he had never actually seen Tony with anyone else. The only person he could remember who might have been a friend was that guy from the day before Tony moved in and Steve recalled him being a complete jerk.

Steve felt worse than he could have imagined, and he knew it was entirely his fault. When Tony had run from him toward their dorm, his face pale with fear, Steve had wanted to follow, but the look in Tony’s eyes had stopped him. Did Tony really think Steve would hurt him if he had agreed to the car ride?

With nothing else to do, Steve returned to join his friends. By the time he got back to the table, Bruce and Thor were back there, speaking in hushed whispers that stopped the moment they noticed him approaching.

“Well, where is he?” Nat asked curiously, glancing around when she saw Steve alone.

“He left,” Steve said miserably as he sank into his seat. “Look, guys, it wasn’t nice what you… I mean, we… did. We made him cry, for God’s sake.”

“Yeah, that wasn’t our best move,” Clint admitted with a guilty look.

Nat tilted her head, studying him. “Steve, what exactly happened? You went after him, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Steve muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “He wouldn’t come back. He said he was going home.” He hesitated, his jaw tightening. “And he looked… scared of me.”

The table went quiet. Even Thor, who had been halfway through a drink, slowly set his cup down.

“That’s… not great,” Bruce said quietly, frowning. “I am not his biggest fan, but making the kid cry is just mean”

“You didn’t see him,” Steve said, his voice low. “He was crying. In an alley. Talking to someone on the phone and… he thinks I set the whole thing up to humiliate him.” His hand clenched around his glass until his knuckles whitened. “I never wanted that. I just thought it might be good for him to meet you all.”

“Guess we kind of failed that mission,” Clint said grimly.

Nat sighed. “More like blew it up entirely.”

Bruce’s expression shifted from frowning to guilt, his shoulders slumping. “I was being a jerk to him over something that happened last year. I should have been nicer, at least… something to make it less awkward.”

“You think?” Clint shot back, though without bite.

“I feel like an ass,” Bruce admitted. “Even though what he did was…” Bruce trailed off without finishing, typical. Till this day no one knew what had happened.

Steve stared at the table, his chest heavy. “He doesn’t have anyone here. Not really. And I just… I let this happen.”

“Well,” Thor said, breaking the silence, “then perhaps we should fix it. A gesture of goodwill. Prove to him that we are not… jerks?”

“Not a bad idea,” Nat agreed, crossing her arms. “But it has to be genuine. Do not mess around. You need to apologize and try asking to join us again, we will also apologize for sure.”

“You could start by bringing him something, as a peace offering,” Bruce suggested. “Food? Or… coffee?”

“Food always works,” Clint said, then smirked faintly. “Or flowers. You know, become a true romantic.”

Steve shot him a look. “Not funny.”

“Come on,” Clint teased, “don’t think we didn’t notice how you looked at him and how fast you ran after him today.”

Bucky, who had been quietly listening until now, leaned forward with a grin. “He’s right, punk. You’ve got that look.”

“What look?” Steve asked warily.

“The one that says ‘I’m not just worried because I'm a righteous prick with a saviour complex, I’m worried because I like him,’” Bucky said, dragging out the words with a smirk.

Steve’s ears turned pink. “You’re imagining things.”

Nat raised a brow. “Are we?”

Steve didn’t answer, his eyes fixed firmly on his drink.

Bucky chuckled. “Relax, pal. We’ll help you make it right. Then, if you’re lucky, maybe he won’t run the other way next time you’re in the same room.”

Steve muttered something under his breath that no one quite caught, but the small twitch at the corner of his mouth gave him away.

After that, they finally ordered lunch, but Steve was in no mood to linger. He decided to get some takeaway and head back to the dorm, planning to leave the food for Tony as a peace offering.

To his disappointment, Tony was asleep when he got back. Steve quietly set the bag of fries and cheeseburger on Tony’s desk with a small note that read, Sorry. S.R. By the time evening settled in and Steve decided to call it a night, Tony was still in bed. At this point, Steve suspected he might be pretending to avoid him, which Steve could not blame him for. The food was still sitting on the desk, untouched. Steve left it there, figuring Tony might wake up in the middle of the night and decide he needed something to eat.

When Steve finally went to bed, sleep did not come easily. He lay there, staring at the ceiling, his mind replaying every interaction they had shared. Seen in the new light of today’s events, his own behavior seemed far less polite than he had convinced himself it was. Maybe he had been the reason for the tension between them all along.

One thing was certain: Steve was determined to fix it now.

Chapter Text

To Steve’s surprise, when he woke up the next morning, Tony’s desk was clear of the food bag. The sight brought a small smile to his face. At least Tony had eaten. Steve’s eyes moved across the room to Tony’s still-sleeping form, curled beneath the blankets. That was no surprise. If Tony had been awake in the middle of the night, he would not be up this early.

Steve stretched, trying to shake off the heaviness of yesterday, and started to get ready for his usual morning run. He pulled on his shorts and reached for his running shoes when a sudden knock at the door startled him. Visitors were rare, especially this early, unless it was one of his friends dropping by. Steve glanced at the clock. Not even eight.

He opened the door cautiously.

An older man stood there. His posture was perfectly straight, his silver hair neatly combed back, and he wore a pressed charcoal suit with a crisp white shirt and polished shoes that looked far too formal for a morning visit. His sharp blue eyes seemed to take in everything at once.

“Good morning. You must be Steve,” the man greeted, his voice carrying a precise British accent. The tone alone made Steve feel as though he had already done something wrong. “I am here to see Anthony. May I come in?” His words were courteous, but the chill behind them was unmistakable.

Steve blinked, caught off guard, and could only mumble a quiet hello before stepping aside. The man no longer spared him a glance. He moved inside with calm assurance, heading directly toward Tony’s bed, where the younger man still slept soundly beneath the covers.

The man’s entire demeanor shifted the moment he approached Tony’s sleeping form. His movements softened as he sat down carefully on the edge of the narrow twin bed, one hand reaching out to shake Tony gently awake.

“Anthony, darling, it’s time to wake up, my sweet boy.”

His voice was tender, nothing like the clipped tone he had used with Steve. Fingers brushed through Tony’s dark, messy hair with practiced familiarity. Slowly, Tony began to stir, blinking against the morning light, looking impossibly young and vulnerable with his disheveled hair and half-lidded eyes. Like this, he looked almost fragile. 

Then came the moment of recognition. Tony’s whole face lit up as he suddenly launched himself forward, wrapping his arms around the man and burying his face into the older man’s neck. His voice cracked with something raw, something relieved.

“Jarvis!”

Steve froze. The name was unmistakable. He remembered hearing it yesterday in that alley, whispered through shaky breaths when Tony had been sobbing into the phone. So this was the voice Tony had clung to for comfort. Not a friend from school from what Steve could tell. An older man in a suit. Someone who felt more like… a guardian? An uncle? He didn’t know. And the not knowing made him uneasy.

Jarvis held Tony close with steady arms, radiating care and quiet reassurance. It was so intimate, so deeply familiar, that Steve suddenly felt like an intruder standing there, watching. The sight of tears still glistening in Tony’s eyes when they finally pulled apart twisted something sharp in his chest.

Steve quickly looked away, heat creeping up his neck. He busied himself with tugging on his running shoes and straightening his bed, anything to pretend he wasn’t intruding on something private. His ears, however, betrayed him. No matter how much he tried to focus on the laces in his hands, he could still hear their voices; soft and low, belonging to a world that had no room for him.

“So, tell me, how are you?”

“I’m good. Now that you’re here.” Tony’s smile was small, almost shy, but it carried a warmth that softened his entire face. “Can we go around the campus later? Maybe after breakfast? I know this nice place that you will definitely love. I have so many things I want to show you. And I’ve been working on this new AI model, you’re going to love it. I’m gonna name it… um, never mind. It’ll be a surprise. But you can still see it, I promise. It’s almost ready, I just need to fix a couple of lines of code. Oh, and I had this other idea too, kind of like a subroutine but smarter, so it learns faster if you—”

He launched into a rapid string of explanations, hands moving animatedly even though he was still half under the blankets. His words tumbled over one another, spilling out too fast for Steve to catch every detail, but the tone was unmistakable. Passion. Excitement. A kind of happiness Steve had never once heard in Tony’s voice before.

And all of it was sparked by this man. By Jarvis.

Jarvis sat with perfect composure, listening intently, nodding at the right moments. Occasionally he interjected with a quiet “Mm” or “I see,” his voice low and warm, his attention unwavering. When Tony gestured wildly, Jarvis even mirrored the motion, indulging him, smiling with a fondness that was subtle but impossible to miss.

The sight clawed at Steve. He stood frozen by his bed, shoes half-laced, feeling like a trespasser. He had lived in the same room as Tony for weeks, and not once had he seen that kind of light in him. Not once had Tony spoken to him with this much eagerness. Steve told himself he had tried to be polite, that he had given Tony the benefit of the doubt. But honesty cut sharper. He had barely made an effort. He had assumed. He had let distance form, and worse, he had let it stay.

Now he watched another man step easily into a role Steve had never even considered Tony might need.

Tony’s voice softened suddenly, and Steve almost didn’t catch it. “I really missed you.”

Jarvis reached out and smoothed Tony’s hair back, the gesture gentle, practiced. “And I missed you, my boy. But I am here now. And you know I will always come when you need me.”

Steve’s chest tightened. He had no right to feel anything, yet guilt churned in him all the same. He bent his head quickly, pretending to fix the laces on his shoes, his ears burning. He should not be listening. Every word made him feel more like an intruder, a stranger in a space where he did not belong.

He told himself a run would help clear his head, give him time to think of a way to do better, to start again somehow. Maybe he could spend the afternoon with Bucky. He had already bailed on him and the rest of his friends yesterday, and Bucky always had a way of grounding him. He had been there for Steve through everything, even when Steve was a scrawny kid swinging at bullies twice his size. If anyone could help him make sense of this, it was Bucky.

But right now, in this room, he was the odd one out. And the ache of that realization stayed with him as he finally pulled on his shoes and reached for the door.

“I mean, yeah, you kinda screwed up, Stevie.”

Bucky’s words landed like a slap, though the sting was on Steve himself. He already knew it was true.

“I’m not saying we weren’t jerks ourselves yesterday. It wasn’t nice, but still…” Bucky’s voice trailed as he came back from the kitchen carrying two cans of soda. He dropped onto the worn couch in his apartment, the familiar cushions sinking under his weight. The place was small but cozy, cluttered with a couple of old photos on the wall and a blanket tossed carelessly over the armrest.

“I know, alright? You think I don’t get it?” Steve rubbed his face with both hands, his frustration spilling out. “I don’t know why I didn’t warn you guys, at least let you know he was coming. I mean, I knew Bruce had his whole thing with him, but honestly, we don’t know anything about him apart from the rumors.”

“Well, how were we supposed to know, pal?” Bucky cracked open his soda with a hiss.

“We just assumed.” Steve’s voice faltered. “I didn’t even try to get to know him when we started living together. I—I mean, he was so…” His throat tightened at the memory. “It killed me to see him crying in humiliation.”

Bucky’s smirk softened. “I’m sorry, Stevie. We’ll fix it. And hey, maybe you’ll get to live happily ever after with your crush.”

Steve shot him a look, his ears burning red. “Bucky, I’m serious. It’s not about that.”

“Okay, okay, I know.” Bucky lifted his hands in surrender, though the grin tugging at his mouth gave him away. “But let’s be honest, he’s kinda your type.”

Steve’s blush deepened, betraying him more than words ever could. Bucky chuckled, satisfied with the reaction.

“Still,” Steve muttered, his voice low, “it doesn’t matter. After everything I did, I don’t think I have a chance. But I still want to fix it. I want to try to be his friend. I do think… maybe he’s lonely…uhh…what do I do?”

Silence stretched between them, filled only by the faint hum of the refrigerator and the city noise outside the window. Finally, Steve looked at Bucky, his expression raw and uncertain.

“It wasn’t rhetorical, Bucky. What do I do? How can I apologize?”

Bucky leaned back, one arm draped over the couch, his soda can sweating in his hand. “First off, don’t overcomplicate it. You’re not writing him a damn apology essay, Steve. Just… talk to him. Be straight. You’re good at that.”

Steve frowned. “I don’t think I’ve been very good at it with him.”

“Then start now.” Bucky gave him a pointed look. “Tell him you screwed up, no excuses. Don’t try to justify it. People can smell that a mile away.”

Steve nodded, though doubt lingered in his eyes. “What if he doesn’t even want to hear it?”

“Then at least you’ll know you tried. But from what you’ve told me, he’s lonely. Lonely people don’t shut the door on someone reaching out, not completely. Even if he’s mad, he’ll listen.”

Steve stared at the floor, twisting the tab of his soda can. “I just… I saw him this morning, Bucky. With this man, Jarvis, I think he is some kind of relative. He lit up like a kid at Christmas. I’ve never seen him so happy, not once since we moved in together. And I realized—I never even tried to give him that. I didn’t really give him a chance.”

Bucky was quiet for a moment, watching his best friend wrestle with guilt. Then he spoke, softer this time. “That’s the thing though, Steve. You don’t gotta compete with that. You don’t need to be Jarvis, whoever the hell he is. Just be you.”

Steve’s jaw tightened. “I can do that.”

“Good. Then start small. Bring him coffee. Ask about his day, his projects even if you don’t understand half of it. Let him see you’re actually interested.”

Steve’s lips curved, faint but genuine. “He does talk about his work like it’s the best thing in the world.”

“There you go. Let him talk. Don’t interrupt or judge. And APOLOGIZE!”

Steve exhaled, the weight on his shoulders still there but not crushing him the same way. “It sounds so simple when you put it like that.”

Bucky clapped him on the back with a grin. “That’s because it is, pal. You’re just overthinking it.”

For the first time since the incident, Steve felt like maybe, just maybe, he had a way forward.

Chapter Text

It was Sunday afternoon, and Tony was lounging in his bed after seeing Jarvis out. The older man had left sooner than either of them would have liked, worried that Howard might notice his absence. Howard would only sneer at the idea that Tony still needed visits from him, calling it childish and weak. Tony hated the thought of Jarvis facing consequences just because he still wanted comfort.

Even with the visit cut short, it had been everything Tony needed. Jarvis had brought his favorite homemade cookies, the ones he only made on special occasions, and Tony was still munching on them while scrolling through half-finished projects on his laptop. He told himself he should make progress before classes started again tomorrow, though his mind kept wandering back to the warmth he had just lost when the door closed behind Jarvis.

The sting of what happened yesterday hadn’t vanished. It still sat in his chest, sharp and humiliating, even if it was dulled now by Jarvis’s presence and patient words. At least for a little while he had felt like he mattered to someone.

Maybe friends just weren’t meant for him. He tried. God, he had tried. He’d even read a book on it, one that promised to explain human interaction in neat diagrams and steps. But the scenarios had been useless, as though the author had never actually felt what it was like to be on the outside looking in. He had stopped trying to apply any of it because it only reminded him of the gap between himself and everyone else.

So he made a decision. No more trying, no more setting himself up for failure. It might even be liberating. He could focus on what he was good at, what he knew wouldn’t betray him. His studies. His ideas. If he poured himself into those, maybe it would be enough. He had so many plans, so many sketches of inventions waiting to take shape. If he could bring even one of them to life, clean energy designs, advanced machine learning, AI models that could surpass anything on the market, maybe his father would finally look at him and see more than a disappointment.

That was where his energy should go. Not toward friends. Not toward people who looked right through him.

But as Tony set his laptop aside and bit into another cookie, the sweetness only made the emptiness more obvious. He wanted to believe what he told himself, that ambition was enough, that innovation could fill the lonely moments. Yet a small, stubborn part of him still ached for something simpler. For laughter that wasn’t forced, for company that wasn’t paid for, for someone to look at him the way Jarvis did and not be obligated to.

He tried to push the thought down, convincing himself that it was childish. But the ache remained, heavy and unrelenting, a reminder that no matter how much he tried to bury it, part of him still longed for connection.

Tony set his laptop on his lap again and was in the middle of reviewing one of his codes when the door to his dorm opened and Steve stepped inside. Of course he had to look that good. Effortlessly handsome, tall, broad-shouldered, blond, and with those ridiculous blue eyes that drove Tony out of his mind. Exactly the kind of guy who would have been his type, if he had ever actually had the chance to develop something as normal as a type. But in the daydreams he would never admit to, it had always been someone like this, someone tall and blond.

Steve lingered near the door, gaze fixed on Tony. Tony tried very hard to keep his attention on the screen in front of him, but his eyes betrayed him, flicking back up only to meet Steve’s. The effort of hiding the hurt there was harder than it should have been. Maybe he hadn’t fully moved on yet. Sue him.

For a moment, they just looked at each other in silence. Then Steve approached, and only then did Tony notice the two cups in his hands. Without a word, Steve thrust one forward. Tony blinked, hesitated, then accepted it, setting his laptop aside as he glanced between the cup and Steve with confusion.

“What is this?” he asked, brow furrowing.

“Uh… coffee,” Steve replied, almost awkwardly.

“You don’t sound sure.” Tony narrowed his eyes. “And why?”

“I’m sure.” Steve’s grip tightened slightly on his own cup. “And I wanted to apologize. For… for yesterday.”

Tony’s stomach twisted. His instinct was to wave it off, to save himself from the ache of hoping this meant more than it did. “No, it’s fine. I get it,” he said quickly.

But Steve immediately shook his head, looking stricken. That panicked movement made Tony stumble over his own words, hasty and uneven. “Honestly, you don’t have to apologize. It—it’s okay. Really. Really.” He trailed off, not sure what else to say. It wasn’t really okay, not in any meaningful way, but what else was he supposed to do? Steve was apologizing, and maybe Tony needed to just accept that and let it be enough. Maybe moving on started with pretending.

“Can I?” Steve asked, nodding toward the bed.

Tony shifted his legs up without a word, giving space. Steve sat down carefully, and for a moment they both adjusted awkwardly, until they ended up sitting across from each other, cross-legged, each holding their own cup of coffee.

The silence stretched, broken only by the faint hum of Tony’s laptop cooling fan. Steve looked down at his cup, then back up at Tony, and finally spoke.

“Tony, I owe you more than just a quick sorry. Yesterday… it wasn’t fair. You walked in and we made you feel like you didn’t belong. That’s on me. I should’ve said something, stopped it before it got that far.”

Tony forced a small shrug, trying for casual, though his chest felt uncomfortably tight. “Like I said, I get it. No harm, no foul. You don’t even have to explain.” His voice was lighter than he felt, carefully stripped of anything that might reveal too much.

Steve frowned, clearly unconvinced. “I don’t think you do get it. You didn’t deserve that, Tony. You were invited, and we treated you like—” he stopped himself, jaw tensing. “Like you were a nuisance. That’s not who we are, who I want to be. Not with you.”

The words hit harder than Tony expected. Something in his chest gave an eager little leap, uninvited and definitely unhelpful. He quickly smothered it down. Steve was kind with his words, but that didn’t mean anything deeper. It couldn’t.

Tony took a sip of the coffee just to buy himself a second. It was decent, nothing extraordinary, but the fact that Steve had gone out of his way for it mattered in ways Tony didn’t want to admit. He set the cup down carefully on the nightstand, focusing on the movement instead of the tight ache rising in his throat.

“You don’t have to feel guilty,” Tony said finally, quieter now. “People don’t… stick around me much. I’m used to it.” The words slipped out before he could reel them back in, rawer than he meant. He tried to fix it with a crooked half-smile. “Besides, statistically speaking, I’m a terrible investment for anyone’s time.”

Steve’s gaze softened with something Tony didn’t dare put a name to. His hand twitched as though he wanted to reach out but wasn’t sure if he had the right. “That’s not true. Not even close.”

Tony swallowed hard, fighting the pull in his chest. He wanted so badly to believe it, to lean into that warmth and let himself imagine a different outcome. But hope was dangerous, and he had learned that lesson too many times.

Instead, he leaned back against the headboard, putting a little distance between them, arms loosely crossed. “Well,” he said, aiming for lightness again, “coffee’s a good start. Let’s call it even.”

Steve didn’t look satisfied, but he nodded, accepting the small opening for what it was.

The silence returned, heavier this time, filled with the weight of all the things Tony wouldn’t let himself say and all the things Steve seemed determined to.

“So…”

“You want a cookie,” they said at the same time, Tony pointing at the container on his nightstand.

Steve let out a short laugh, the corner of his mouth tugging upward. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

He reached for the tin, carefully lifting one out as if it might break apart in his hand. He took a bite, and Tony watched him, waiting, more invested in Steve’s reaction than he cared to admit.

Steve chewed slowly, then smiled again, wider this time. “These are really good.”

The small knot in Tony’s chest loosened, just a little. He leaned forward, eyes brightening before he could stop himself. “Right? They’re Jarvis’s special recipe. He only makes them on… you know, special occasions.” His words sped up, enthusiasm cutting through the reserve he usually wrapped himself in. “He actually made them because he thought I needed cheering up, and he was right. I mean, they’re practically engineered happiness.”

Steve chuckled softly at Tony’s energy, but he didn’t interrupt.

“And the thing is,” Tony continued, gesturing with his hands, “Jarvis doesn’t bake for just anyone. He says it takes patience and precision, and he doesn’t waste those unless it’s for someone who matters, at least that’s what he says.” He hesitated, chewing at the inside of his cheek before admitting, “He made them because they’re my favorite. Always has.”

Steve tilted his head, curiosity sparking. “So… who is Jarvis exactly? Friend of the family?”

Tony’s expression softened, but a flicker of hesitation crossed his face. “He’s… well, technically the family butler. But that word doesn’t really cover it. He’s the one who—” He stopped, searching for the right phrasing, then shifted, tapping his fingers restlessly against the bedspread. “He’s the one who actually looked out for me. Not in the raise-me-like-a-dad way, more like… he was there. More than anyone else.”

Steve stayed quiet, letting Tony continue at his own pace.

“I mean, my parents were around, technically, but not really. Jarvis was the one who remembered things. Like how I take my coffee, or that I hated being left alone at night when I was little. If anyone deserves credit for me making it this far without completely combusting, it’s him.”

The words slipped out faster than Tony intended, and when he finally looked up, Steve’s eyes were steady on him, warm but also filled with a quiet sympathy Tony immediately wanted to push away. Vulnerability sat heavy in his chest, and it terrified him.

He forced a smirk, leaning back as if to brush it all off. “Anyway. Cookies. Magic. You should eat more before I decide I want them all.”

Steve didn’t smile this time, not fully. He broke off another piece of the cookie but kept his gaze on Tony, as if trying to piece him together from the cracks Tony had just let show.

It went easier after that. The tension that had hung in the room slowly unraveled as Steve kept the conversation going. He asked more about Jarvis, about the things Tony liked him to make, and listened closely as Tony listed off dishes and little details, his voice growing animated despite himself.

Steve shared in turn, opening up about his own childhood. He talked about how his family life had always been structured because of his father’s military career, how order and discipline shaped everything, even their meals and daily routines. He admitted it had been difficult when he was younger, especially while battling sickness after sickness, but once he grew stronger he had come to rely on that structure like a lifeline.

He told stories about Bucky, his best friend, and about how he had been there yesterday too. He spoke of the rest of his friends, of his mother, of all the strange and sometimes funny stories she would bring home from her shifts as an ER nurse. His voice softened with memory when he described her, and Tony, who had no childhood friends to mention or family anecdotes to swap, found himself leaning in anyway. He liked listening. Steve’s words painted a life filled with warmth and connection that Tony had never really known, and he let himself enjoy it even if it stung somewhere deep.

When it was his turn, Tony spoke of his projects, of what he was building for Stark Industries R&D. He tried to explain the way his mind worked, how balancing university with research felt less like pressure and more like proof. Proof that he could succeed on his own terms, not only as Howard Stark’s son. Somewhere along the way he let slip that this was not even his first degree, that he had already completed a bachelor’s online a few years ago, and that he was juggling his master’s at MIT and company work last year.

The reaction was immediate. Steve froze, eyes wide, as though Tony had just announced he could fly. For a moment, Tony’s stomach sank. Had he said too much? Had he made himself sound arrogant, or worse, desperate for validation? He nearly backtracked, fumbling for a way to deflect, but before he could, Steve found his voice again.

“You must really be a genius,” Steve said quietly, with something close to awe.

The words hit harder than Tony expected. Genius. Not freak. Not weird. Genius. His face heated, his chest tightening with an emotion he could not quite name, and he ducked his head in a rare burst of shyness.

They did not even notice the time slipping by after that. Conversation spun on and on, a rhythm both easy and strange in how natural it felt. Hours passed while they sat cross-legged on the bed, sharing stories and thoughts and pieces of themselves, until hunger finally intruded and forced a pause.

They ordered Chinese takeout and kept talking even as they ate from the cartons, Steve grinning at Tony’s first unimpressed attempt with chopsticks before showing him the trick of it. The food was warm, the room was quiet, and for once Tony felt no need to fill the silence with noise.

It was something he had never experienced before, and he was not sure how to interpret it. He could not stop himself from remembering yesterday, from remembering the sting of overhearing Steve call him weird on the phone. The memory still sat sharp in the back of his mind, a reminder not to get too comfortable. And yet… today had been good. Really good. Steve had not treated him like a burden or an oddity, but like someone worth listening to. Someone whose words mattered.

Tony decided he would stay cautious. It would be stupid not to. But if the warmth in his chest meant anything, then maybe, just maybe, another conversation like this would be worth the risk.

Chapter Text

The tension was gone from their room, replaced with something easy. Tony’s schedule had evened out too. He spent afternoons buried in homework or tinkering with projects and, to Steve’s relief, actually managed to sleep at night. It dawned on Steve that Tony’s old habit of staying up until dawn had probably been less about productivity and more about avoiding him. The thought still stung, but at least now he understood it.

They had fallen into a routine that Steve quickly grew to treasure. Every morning he brought Tony coffee, and they would talk before heading off to their classes. Afternoons were usually spent apart, each of them working on their own things, but evenings had become their time. On weekdays they ordered food or went down to the cafeteria together. Nothing big or flashy, just their own little bubble.

Steve had never felt this comfortable with anyone else. Hours slipped away when they talked, conversations spilling from one subject to the next until time became meaningless. He found himself captivated, listening to Tony’s quick mind spark to life. Sometimes he noticed hesitation though. Tony would pause before launching into one of his excited rambles, or falter mid-sentence as if bracing for ridicule. Steve could almost see the younger man waiting for judgment or mockery. All it ever took was a smile from him, and Tony would push past it, finishing his thought with renewed energy.

They never mentioned the incident at the arcade again, nor did they revisit the subject of Steve’s friends. It was easier to leave that unspoken, easier to live inside the small bubble they had made for themselves. Steve was more than happy to keep it that way.

Until the day that bubble cracked.

He returned to the dorm one afternoon after class and found Tony at his desk, typing furiously at his computer. At first it looked normal, just another scene in their routine. But then Steve’s eyes caught on something that froze him in place. A bruise, dark and fresh, sprawled across Tony’s wrist. It hadn’t been there that morning when Steve had handed him his coffee.

Steve froze at the sight of the bruise, his stomach twisting. He crossed the room quickly, eyes fixed on Tony’s wrist.

“Tony… what happened?” His voice came out sharper than he intended.

Tony barely looked up from his laptop. “Nothing. It’s fine.”

“Fine?” Steve’s tone rose despite himself. “That doesn’t look fine. That looks like someone hurt you.”

Tony finally glanced at him, brow raised like he wanted to brush it off, but there was a flicker of unease in his eyes. “I told you, it’s nothing. I tripped, bumped into something, whatever.” He went back to typing as if that ended the conversation.

Steve’s jaw clenched. He could feel something hot and protective stirring inside him, a sharp edge of anger he hadn’t expected. “Tony, don’t do that. Don’t act like this isn’t serious. I’ve noticed before. This isn’t the first time, is it?”

That made Tony freeze. His hands stilled on the keys, and when he looked up this time, his eyes were wide and guarded. There was fear there, faint but unmistakable, and it hit Steve like a punch to the chest. He immediately regretted the harshness in his tone.

“Hey, I’m not mad at you,” Steve said quickly, forcing his voice softer. He sat on the edge of the desk, trying to meet Tony’s gaze. “I just… I need to know what’s going on. Please.”

Tony swallowed hard. For a moment it seemed like he might retreat again, hide behind another deflection. But the dam cracked. He slumped back in his chair, closing his laptop with a shaky hand.

“There’s this guy,” Tony muttered, eyes fixed on the floor. “Justin. Justin Hammer. His dad runs Hammer Industries. Rival company, big ambitions, desperate to prove themselves in the market. He thinks if he gets me to hand over some of my projects, it’ll give his dad leverage against Stark Industries. He’s been… pressuring me. For weeks.”

Steve’s fists curled. “Pressuring you? As in threatening you? Wait a minute, is this the jerk who kept coming here that first week?”

Tony’s laugh was humorless. “Umm…yes, and he’s not doing anything serious honestly… some—some shoves, maybe cornering me in labs or hallways. Sometimes he thinks bruises will make me change my mind. I don’t play nice, so… here we are.” He gestured vaguely at his wrist.

Steve felt his anger simmer, but he tried to keep his tone calm for Tony’s sake. “Why haven’t you told anyone? Campus authorities could deal with him.”

Tony shook his head quickly, almost too quickly. “No. That would look bad. For me, for the company. Howard wouldn’t approve.”

Steve frowned. “Harvard wouldn’t approve?”

Tony flinched at his own words, lips pressing shut. He didn’t correct himself.

Steve let it go, but the weight of it lodged in his chest. Howard Stark’s shadow was thicker than he realized.

He leaned forward, gentling his tone. “Tony, you shouldn’t have to deal with this alone. If you need help, or backup, or—”

“I’m fine,” Tony cut in, his voice thin. “Really. I can handle Justin.”

“Maybe,” Steve said, firm but not unkind. “But you shouldn’t have to. I’m not going to let this keep happening. From now on, whenever I can, I’ll walk with you to class. Between classes too. I’ve got more gaps in my schedule, I can make it work.”

Tony blinked at him, suspicion and something like disbelief warring in his expression. “You don’t have to babysit me.”

Steve’s mouth quirked into a small, steady smile. “Maybe not. But I want to make sure you’re safe. Let me do this.”

Silence stretched. Tony looked away, fiddling with the edge of his sleeve, but finally gave a reluctant nod. “Fine. But if you start carrying my books, I’m out.”

Steve chuckled softly, though his eyes stayed serious. “Deal.”

The bruise still sat ugly on Tony’s wrist, but the fear and worry in Tony’s eyes dimmed just a little. Steve can live with that. For now.

That was how their new routine began. Every morning, Steve would show up at the dorm after finishing his run not only with coffee for Tony but timing it so they could get ready together. Then he would walk Tony to his first class. They started checking their schedules side by side, figuring out when Steve had breaks between his own classes. Whenever there was a gap, Steve made sure to be there, waiting, so he could walk with Tony across campus.

It did not take long for Steve to notice Justin Hammer. Sometimes he caught sight of him lingering in the hallways or leaning against a wall, eyes flicking toward Tony with that smug, calculating look. But Justin never came close. Not once. Steve was certain that was because Tony was no longer alone.

And that was enough for now.

It did not solve the larger problem. Justin was still out there, still scheming, still looking for an opening. Steve knew this routine was only a temporary shield. But if this was all Tony would allow him to do for the moment, Steve was willing to do it gladly. Because every time Justin’s eyes shifted away, every time Tony’s shoulders seemed to loosen even slightly while Steve was beside him, Steve felt the quiet confirmation that being there made a difference. And that was all he wanted.

The surprising part was how natural it all felt. Walking across the quad side by side, grabbing coffee after a late lecture, lingering outside classrooms waiting for Tony to come out. It was the sort of thing Steve had never done before with anyone outside of maybe Bucky. Yet here he was, falling into a rhythm with Tony without even realizing it.

And maybe that was why it unsettled him. it was starting to feel less like duty, not that it ever felt like that if he was honest, and more like instinct. He did not have to remind himself to look for Tony between classes, or to bring an extra cup of coffee in the mornings. No, never. He just did it.

And every time he caught sight of Justin in the distance and saw the way Tony immediately looked at Steve, as if checking that Steve was still there beside him, he felt that protective spark flare up again, sharper and stronger.

It was one thing to keep walking with Tony, to act as a buffer. But deep down, Steve knew it was only a matter of time before Justin tried something again. And when that jerk did try something, he would be there for Tony.

Chapter Text

They were walking back from Tony’s last class of the day, heading straight toward their dorm. The air carried that sharp chill of mid October, the kind that hinted at winter creeping closer. Leaves crunched under their shoes, scattered across the brick paths in shades of rust and gold. Students passed in clusters, scarves tucked up around their faces, backpacks heavy with books. It was Friday, and usually after dropping his things off Steve would go out to meet his friends. Tony tried not to be the guy who cared too much about that, but he could not help the sting of jealousy every time he thought about how easily people gravitated toward Steve. The man had so many friends already, like it cost him no effort at all. Of course it made sense, Steve was so damn likable.

After the initial tension between them, now that Tony actually knew him, he could not deny it anymore. Steve was genuine. Kind. Supportive. The sort of person Tony never really thought he would get close to, be friends with. He tried not to think too far ahead or assume too much, but part of him hoped that maybe, just maybe, they were getting there.

They were nearly at their dorm when Tony broke the silence.

“So, what are the plans for tonight? Anything fun?”

It was not unusual for him to ask. These days, their conversations had started to come easier, lighter.

“No plans, actually,” Steve admitted, his tone carrying a hint of disappointment. “Well, technically, everyone else has plans, but I can’t join.”

Tony looked at him, brows lifting in confusion, silently asking why.

Steve sighed and explained, “You know how I’m here on a sports scholarship, playing football and all that?”

Tony gave a small shake of his head, and Steve went on. “I have to keep my grades up if I want to keep playing. And if I don’t play, I don’t think my folks could afford for me to stay here. So… study session it is.” He finished with a self-deprecating chuckle.

“You could still go out. You’ve got the whole weekend ahead to study,” Tony suggested, still not fully following why Steve had to cut himself off tonight.

“Well, Mr. Genius, not all of us can learn an entire subject just by glancing at the title,” Steve teased, bumping his shoulder lightly against Tony’s.

Tony laughed. He did not mind Steve’s teasing, it never carried that edge other people’s jokes did.

“And it’s applied mathematics,” Steve added, groaning. “I suck at it. I’ll be lucky if I can finish half the material by Monday. Midterms are next week. Ughhh. Why do I even have to take it? My major is art. ART, Tony.” He threw his hands up dramatically.

Tony smirked at his exasperation. “This is MIT. It’s kind of expected. And if I’m not mistaken, it should be level one, more of an introductory course, right?”

“Again, not all of us are geniuses. I don’t understand any of this,” Steve muttered with frustration.

Tony laughed softly and, without even thinking, blurted out, “Well, I can help you if you want.”

There was a moment of silence. Steve stopped walking, and Tony only noticed when he realized the taller man was no longer beside him. He turned back and found Steve staring at him like he had just suggested buying him a private island instead of offering help with homework. Which, if Tony thought about it, he probably could do too. The fading light caught in Steve’s hair as he stood still beneath a row of trees, their branches bare at the tips but still clinging to bursts of orange. 

“Are you serious?” Steve asked, still stunned.

“Yes, of course,” Tony said quickly. “You said you were struggling with math, and I’m good at that… so, um… I can help. If you want. Only if you want, no pressure. I mean, I get it if you don’t want my help, but I just thought maybe—” His words trailed off into a nervous ramble.

Tony’s chest tightened as the silence stretched. Was it the wrong thing to say? Did Steve think he was mocking him for not being great at math? His mind churned with the possibility of having ruined this fragile ease between them. He barely noticed how his breathing hitched, how his fingers twitched restlessly at his sides, until Steve finally spoke.

“Tony, I just…” Steve hesitated, still watching him carefully. “Don’t you have better things to do? You always have projects, homework, all that R&D stuff you’re working on. You tell me about it all the time.”

“Yes,” Tony admitted, shrugging a little, “but I can always find time to help. Nothing urgent this weekend.”

Steve frowned, still skeptical. “What about your own studies? I’m sure you’ve got midterms coming up too.”

That finally broke Tony’s tension, amusement curling in his chest. He grinned, shaking his head. “I really don’t.”

Steve blinked at him in confusion. “Huh?”

Tony chuckled outright now, the sound lighter than before. Watching Steve’s baffled expression made the knots in his stomach finally loosen.

Tony continued walking toward their dorm, hands stuffed in his pockets. “Look, I’m already caught up with all the college material here, at least for my majors, for the entire four years. So I don’t usually have to study for anything related to classes. At this point all I really need to do is show up for lectures and exams. The projects I work on are individual, and I’ve got access to several labs on campus, even after hours, so I can work whenever I want. As for the R&D projects, they’re all approved for now, so taking a few days off isn’t going to cause a problem. I’m sure Howard won’t even notice.”

He glanced sideways at Steve, his tone softening. “And honestly, I work all the time because I love what I do. The ideas, the inventions, that’s just who I am. So yes, I’m sure I can clear my evening to help you. And I’d really like to help you,” he finished, quieter, a little shy.

Steve stared at him, a mix of awe and disbelief crossing his face. “Wow. How can I still be surprised by your genius? Shame on me, I know… but still. Wow.” He let out a laugh, shaking his head.

Tony joined in, his own laugh bubbling out, lighthearted and easy. It felt natural, the kind of laugh that settled between them like it belonged there.

After a moment Tony tilted his head. “So…?”

Steve grinned, catching on. “Yes, of course. If you’re willing, I’d love that. How can I say no? I’m struggling, and my scholarship is on the line.” His tone turned overly dramatic at the last part, and Tony rolled his eyes with a smile.

“Okay then. Let’s order some food when we get to our room and get started. If we finish by tomorrow, maybe you’ll still have time to meet up with your friends.”

“Sounds like a plan. Thank you, Tony. I mean it.”

Tony looked down quickly, cheeks heating. He wasn’t used to people thanking him, not sincerely. They walked on, the sky already turning dusky purple. Dorm lights blinked on one by one across the campus, windows glowing against the crisp autumn air. Honestly, he never knew what to say in return. But he didn’t hate the way it made him feel, especially because it came from Steve.

They walked the rest of the way in silence, the kind that felt comfortable rather than heavy.

As planned, when they reached their dorm, they ordered burgers and fries, and grabbed a few sweet treats from the vending machine down the hall. With food spread across the desk and books laid out between them, they got straight to work.

Several hours later they were still set up on Steve’s desk, burgers and fries already demolished, the sweet wrappers chocolates shoved aside to make room for Steve’s math notes. Tony leaned over the book, pen in hand, his voice steady as he explained step by step.

“Okay, so the trick here is not to panic when you see all the symbols. It’s really just patterns. Like here,” Tony pointed at the problem, scribbling beside it, “this is just substitution. Nothing scary. You’ve seen this before, you just didn’t notice.”

Steve frowned, chewing his lip as he followed Tony’s writing. His brows pulled tight, the crease between them deepening. “I don’t get it. Sorry.”

Tony’s instinct was to joke, but instead he softened, shaking his head. “Don’t apologize. You’re trying. That’s the whole point. We’ll go again.”

Steve’s shoulders relaxed just slightly at Tony’s reassurance, though he still sighed. “Feels like I’m really slow at this.”

“You’re not.” Tony caught himself staring too long, then quickly added, “Besides, teaching helps me remember things too. So technically you’re helping me.”

That earned him a small, crooked smile, and Tony felt heat rise in his chest.

They kept going. Steve struggled, but he kept asking questions, kept trying. Tony found himself explaining with his hands, sketching shapes in the air, sometimes leaning closer to underline parts of the page. Each time their eyes met, Tony’s words threatened to stumble. Steve’s eyes were impossibly blue, and Tony had to force himself not to look away too quickly.

Eventually, the desk grew cramped, and Steve suggested they move. So they ended up on Steve’s bed, the book balanced across their laps, shoulders pressed close. Tony tried to focus on the math, but the warmth of Steve’s body beside him kept pulling his mind off track.

At one point, Steve groaned, flopping back dramatically. “My brain’s fried. I swear I’ve lost half my vocabulary tonight.”

Tony chuckled, tugging the book out of his hands. “Yeah, okay. No point drilling it in when your brain’s already waving the white flag. You did good though. We got through more than I thought we would.”

Steve rolled onto his side, propping himself up on an elbow to look at him. “You think so?”

“Positive,” Tony said, and meant it.

They needed a break, so Tony opened his laptop. “Okay, reward time. One movie. Something that doesn’t need brain cells.”

Steve grinned, and after a short back-and-forth, they settled on Rush Hour , an old action comedy Tony claimed was a “classic of chaotic brilliance.”

Halfway through, Tony found himself blinking slower and slower, the dialogue on-screen blurring into background noise. He didn’t even notice when his head tipped sideways, landing gently against Steve’s shoulder.

Tony felt Steve freeze for a second beside him, then shift slightly, settling back in a way that made Tony relax. The warmth and steadiness near him were oddly comforting, and before he knew it, he was dozing off, half-focused on the movie. 

The next thing he knew, Steve was gently shaking him. “Hey… the movie’s over.”

Tony blinked awake, disoriented, his voice rough with sleep. “What—did we…? Oh. Sorry.” He sat up quickly, shuffling off the bed with awkward movements, trying not to meet Steve’s eyes.

Steve stood too, stretching. “Hey, it’s okay. Seriously. And thanks. For, you know, the studying, and all that.”

Tony’s cheeks heated again, and he ducked his head. “Yeah. Sure. Anytime.”

They exchanged a small, crooked smile, and Steve added softly, “Let’s pick it up tomorrow after breakfast, if you’re still willing.”

“Yeah,” Tony said, almost too quickly. “Tomorrow.”

The silence that followed wasn’t heavy at all. If anything, it hummed with something Tony didn’t want to examine too closely.

Steve shifted slightly, giving a small, tired smile. “Goodnight, Tony.”

“Goodnight,” Tony echoed, his voice lower. They lingered for a moment, neither pushing for conversation, neither needing to. Then, almost automatically, they went to their respective beds. Tony lay back, staring at the ceiling, tracing imaginary patterns with his thoughts, still aware of the warmth that had filled the room.

Eventually, sleep claimed him, and he drifted off with thoughts of Steve’s broad shoulders beneath his head, the warmth of his body pressed close, and his mind wandering to what it might feel like to be held in those strong, steady hands.

Chapter Text

By late afternoon the next day, they were almost finished with all the material Steve had planned to cover that weekend. He was genuinely surprised that not only had they completed everything, but he now felt confident that he truly understood it. He could actually take a break now and maybe even join their friends at Bucky’s place that evening.

When Tony finally said they were done, Steve hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Hey… maybe you could come with me tonight? It’d be nice for you to go out too.”

Tony’s eyes widened instantly, a flicker of panic crossing his face. Steve froze, realizing too late how thoughtless his suggestion had been. Last time had not gone well, and he could see the memory pressing on Tony now.

“Hey—no, no, it’s fine,” Steve rushed to reassure him, waving his hands. “That’s not what I meant. It won’t be like last time, I promise. I will text my friends this time, let them know you’re coming. They… They do want to apologize. Really. It’ll be fine.”

Tony blinked, still tense, but Steve could see the corners of his mouth twitching as he absorbed the words. A small relief flickered across his face. Steve felt a small surge of warmth in his chest, silently glad he hadn’t ruined the moment.

Steve could tell Tony was still hesitant. He could feel how careful Tony was being, not wanting to offend him. Steve felt a mix of confusion and understanding. He knew that most of his friends’ opinions of Tony had formed before they really knew him, based on stupid rumors. By now, they were smart enough not to judge him that way, especially after all the things that Steve had been telling them about Tony. But Bruce was still a question mark, as they still didn’t know exactly what had happened last year.

Before Steve could go on convincing him, Tony spoke up. “You don’t have to pretend, Steve. I know you—they think I’m… weird. That’s fair, but it doesn’t mean I actually want to spend time with them, especially if they don’t want to.”

Steve blinked, confused. “Wait… What? Why do you think that?”

Tony finally confessed, a faint twinge of embarrassment in his voice. “I overheard your phone conversation once… with one of your friends.”

Steve didn’t recall the exact words, but he immediately felt guilty. “Oh… I’m sorry. Maybe I did say something, but I didn’t mean it that way. Back then, I guess it was because you’d mostly avoid me at first. I get it why now, it’s fair… I haven’t been the nicest. The situation was weird, and with all the rumors and Bruce's thoughts…that didn’t help. Not an excuse, though. I’m really sorry, Tony. Again, it’s no excuse, but I want you to know I don’t think that anymore. Especially now… I know you. You’re incredible at everything you do, and you’re kind… really kind.”

Tony looked at him, quiet for a moment, processing the sincerity in Steve’s words. Steve felt a small warmth in his chest, realizing just how much he wanted Tony to feel comfortable and safe with him, no matter what anyone else thought.

Tony was still a little reluctant, but he accepted Steve’s apology and agreed, on the condition that Steve would let his friends know beforehand. Steve on his part promised that Bruce wouldn’t do anything. However, at the moment he couldn’t help himself and asked, “You know, Bruce never actually told us what happened. We just know he was really, really angry, and it was awful for all of you. What actually happened?”

Tony hesitated for a moment, then finally began to tell the story, his voice quieter, tinged with self-deprecation. “It was… We were both working in the lab late one night. Bruce was focused on a project I didn’t really know anything about at first, but then I saw some schematics and chemical compounds on his computer. It looked… fascinating. At the time, I didn’t know anyone there. I had barely met anyone, and I’d heard of Bruce, respected his genius. So I decided to start a conversation, talk about the project. Didn’t exactly go as planned.”

He gave a small, rueful smile. “I thought I was being friendly, but maybe I came off the wrong way. I tend to irritate people without meaning to. That’s just… me. Maybe that’s what happened with Bruce. I was just being myself. I thought it was fine, but not everyone appreciates my jokes or comments. And honestly, I didn’t even notice he was getting annoyed until it was too late.”

Steve listened closely, leaning in, his expression softening. He could almost see the younger version of Tony in that late-night lab, earnest, curious, slightly reckless with his charm. There was something in the way Tony recounted it, vulnerable, and almost apologetic, that made Steve’s chest tighten. “So that’s why he was so mad?” he asked gently, even a little confused.

Tony shaked his head and leaned back slightly, running a hand through his hair as he spoke. “Not really, no. So Bruce was working on the computer and mixing some chemical compounds at the same time. And I—I guess I distracted him just a little, and that’s when things started to go wrong.”

Steve frowned, leaning forward. “Distracted him… how badly?”

Tony shrugged, with another self-deprecating smile. “Bad enough that he added the wrong thing into the mixture and it started reacting wrong. Gas started rising, and I knew it would be deadly if it had kept going for even one more minute. I saw it before Bruce did. And, uh, I didn’t even think to tell him at the time. I just acted.”

Steve’s stomach tightened. He couldn’t imagine being in that room, knowing someone could have been seriously hurt. “Well why?… I mean why didn’t you tell him?”

Tony’s voice dropped a little, almost sheepish. “Honestly? I thought it would be faster to fix it myself. We were running out of time. The only way to stop the reaction was to throw something else into the mix. It caused a minor explosion. I knew it would but it wasn’t as bad as the gas would have been, but it destroyed part of his work… the computer got wrecked with parts of his research.”

Steve felt his chest tighten further, picturing Bruce’s reaction. “Wow… I can see why he was angry. That would frustrate anyone.”

“Frustrated? Yeah, that’s putting it mildly,” Tony admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Bruce pushed me away, totally losing it. I didn’t even get a chance to explain. I tried to suggest he let me help, but he was… he was too angry. I got shoved back before I could say anything else. The place was a mess. Chemicals, smoke… it was chaos, and I was just standing there, hoping he’d calm down.”

Steve’s mind kept running through the scene. He could practically feel the tension in the air. He glanced at Tony, noticing the way he avoided his eyes for a moment. 

Tony gave a small, bitter laugh. “It was… Terrifying? I could feel that I was irritating him even more just by being there. I thought he wouldn’t act so nicely and hurt me if I stayed. He was really scary. So I—I just ran, left the lab, and left him with all that mess.”

Steve nodded, thinking how easy it was to see the weight of that moment still sitting with Tony. He reached out, putting his hand on Tony’s shoulder, squeezing a little, just slightly, as if to reassure him. “I think it was really brave of you to act instead of freezing; it says a lot about you. You did the right thing, Tony.”

Tony gave him a faint, appreciative smile. Steve noticed it lingered, and for a second, he just looked at Tony’s eyes, seeing that mixture of guilt and earnestness, and felt a subtle warmth he didn’t expect.

Tony shook his head slightly, voice low, almost like he was talking to himself. “I didn’t even get a chance to apologize or help with his work. I have an eidetic memory, so it wouldn’t have been a problem for me to assist Bruce. Maybe not with everything, but with the parts I’d seen, and with the knowledge I have, I might have been able to help him restore his research. And also explain why I did what I did, why I acted the way I did.”

Steve frowned, feeling a tight knot in his chest. He could see the frustration in Tony’s eyes. “You could have… helped him?” he asked softly.

Tony gave a humorless laugh. “Yeah. But I didn’t. I was scared of how he’d react, what he might do. I just… ran. Not proud of it, not even a little, but that was my instinct. At the time, it didn’t even occur to me to stay. I just got out.”

Steve’s heart sank.

“And after that,” Tony continued, “I tried to approach him a few times, to apologize, to explain myself… but Bruce just looked at me, angrily, and coldly. He wouldn’t even hear me out. After a couple of attempts, I stopped. I couldn’t force him, and I didn’t want to make it worse.”

Steve shifted, running a hand through his hair, trying to process it all. He remembered Bruce’s fury at the time.

“I… I can see why you stopped. You were right to do so,” Steve said quietly, “It would have been impossible to get through to him at that point.”

Tony’s eyes met his, a flicker of vulnerability behind the usual bravado. “Yeah. And I guess that’s how it stayed. I honestly thought you knew the details… but well, I guess not. And honestly? I still feel awful about it. Even now.”

Steve felt a pang of sympathy, the weight of Tony’s confession settling in. He wanted to do something to reassure him, to let him know that he understood. “Tony… it wasn’t your fault and you acted on instinct. Good instinct. You fixed it in the moment. Trust me. Most people would have panicked completely. And Bruce should have been more understanding, even if something was irritating him, he was mature enough to say something and not just let it distract him.”

Tony’s lips twitched into a small, almost shy smile. “Yeah… maybe. You make it sound better than I feel it.”

Steve chuckled softly, shaking his head. “I’m just being honest. You stepped in when it mattered. And you didn’t make it worse intentionally. That’s what counts.”

Tony let out a quiet sigh, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. Steve noticed the way his gaze softened, how he seemed, slowly, to relax. “Okay,” Tony murmured, almost to himself. “Maybe I can try to see it that way, too.”

Steve smiled, a warmth spreading in his chest. Steve sat back, processing Tony’s story, and a flush of guilt rose in his chest. “And for what it’s worth I… I’m so sorry, Tony,” he said quietly. “For Bruce, for his reaction… for everything. You didn’t deserve that.”

Tony shrugged, not fully believing that.

Steve shook his head, leaning forward, eyes earnest. “No, still… I can’t just let that go. Bruce didn’t know, that’s true, but he will now… I will make sure and he’s going to feel terrible. I promise you, Tony, I’ll be there the whole time. We can talk to him today. I’ll make sure you’re safe. I won’t let him say or do anything to hurt you.”

Tony hesitated, brows drawn, but Steve could see the tension slowly easing from his shoulders. “Alright,” Tony said finally, still cautious. “I’ll go. But only because you’re promising that.”

Steve gave a small, reassuring smile. “I promise. And honestly… I think this is a good chance to clear the air, not just with Bruce, but with everyone. We can hang out at Bucky’s place, relax, and have fun.”

Tony raised an eyebrow, half amused, half skeptical. “Sure, why not?”

Steve leaned closer, voice soft but firm. “And just so you know… no one thinks badly of you. I’ve been talking to them, telling them how great you are, how much better it is after getting to know you.”

Tony felt heat rise to his cheeks, a small, unguarded smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah?”

Steve nodded, unable to hide his grin. “Yeah. They needed to hear it. And it’s the truth. You’re… you’re really good, Tony. And I’m glad they will start seeing that too.”

Tony glanced away for a moment, then nodded. “Okay… alright. Let’s go then.”

With that, they got up, feeling lighter than they had in a long time. The awkward tension from the past began to dissolve as they moved to get ready, knowing that soon they’d be at Bucky’s place, finally able to relax and spend time with his friends.

As they got their jackets, Steve couldn’t help but glance at Tony, noticing the subtle ease returning to his posture. Tony’s earlier tension had faded, replaced by a wary but genuine curiosity about the evening ahead. He was fiddling with his keys, muttering to himself about who might be there and what Bruce might say, and Steve smiled quietly.

“You know,” Steve said, sliding his hand into his jacket pocket, “I still can’t get over that story you just told me.”

Tony looked up, wary. “Which part? The explosion? The deadly gas? Or me running like a coward?”

Steve chuckled, nudging him lightly. “All of it. Honestly, Tony… you practically saved Bruce’s life, even if you set off a mini explosion. That’s… heroic in my book.”

Tony’s lips twitched into a grin. As they walked toward the car, Steve pulled out his phone. He typed a quick message to the group chat: Hey guys, bringing Tony over tonight. Please behave, there’s a few things you need to know. And Bruce… act mature please, okay? He hit send and nudged Tony gently with his elbow, sensing that the shorter man was still a little nervous. “You’ll be fine. Besides, I’ll be right there, and you can hide behind me if needed.”

Tony laughed softly, the sound lighter than it had been all day. “My hero, gonna protect from evil, huh?”

“Of course,” Steve said simply. “That’s what I do.”

The ride to Bucky’s was filled with light conversation, teasing remarks from Steve, and small bursts of laughter from Tony. Steve found himself enjoying the sound, feeling the bond between them growing with every shared joke and gentle nudge.

By the time they pulled up outside Bucky’s house, Tony was leaning back in his seat, noticeably more comfortable. He wasn’t scanning the surroundings anxiously anymore; instead, he seemed almost curious about the evening ahead, trusting Steve to guide him through it.

Steve grinned, turning to him. “Ready for this?”

Tony exhaled slowly, a mix of anticipation and amusement in his voice. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Steve laughed softly, reaching out to squeeze Tony’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you. Let’s go have some fun, and maybe clear the air too.”

Tony nodded, the corners of his mouth lifting in a genuine smile. 

Chapter Text

The evening started off easier than Tony expected. Stepping into Bucky’s apartment, he found himself glancing around in quiet assessment. The space was modest but comfortable, lived-in in a way that immediately set it apart from the neat halls of campus housing.

True to his word, Steve must have mentioned something to his friends beforehand, because when they arrived at Bucky’s apartment, the atmosphere felt welcoming instead of tense. One by one, people greeted him with casual smiles and easy introductions, no sense of hesitation or judgment hanging in the air.

Natasha Romanoff, sharp-eyed and calm, offered a brief handshake and said she was studying Criminal Psychology. She joked lightly about how Steve had carried half her boxes on orientation day, and Tony caught the faintest smile tug at Steve’s mouth. Clint Barton, leaning comfortably against the arm of the couch, introduced himself next. He and Natasha had been friends since high school, both ending up at MIT. Clint was a Kinesiology and Sports Science major, and the way he teased Natasha about dragging him to the campus gym made it clear their friendship ran deep.

Thor Odinson came after, broad-shouldered and warm, his booming laugh cutting through the room as he explained he was majoring in Comparative Literature. He and Steve apparently bonded in some elective art class over what Thor called “the great tragedy of cafeteria coffee.” His way of speaking made Tony raise an eyebrow, but there was no malice behind it, only an odd but genuine friendliness.

Then there was Bruce Banner, quieter than the others, though not unfriendly. He gave a polite nod when Steve introduced him, saying they had met during a tutoring session in the library. Bruce added that Steve had been sketching various students at the time, which earned an embarrassed shrug from Steve. Tony noticed Bruce’s gaze flicker his way but, to his relief, it wasn’t the harsh glare he remembered.

Steve rounded out the group by introducing Bucky, his childhood best friend from Boston University, who greeted Tony with easy confidence, and Sam Wilson, Bucky’s roommate. Sam had joined the group earlier that year and seemed to balance Bucky’s dry humor with an approachable charm.

It was a lot at once, and Tony felt a flicker of intimidation at being the outsider surrounded by a tight-knit group. But no one looked at him like he didn’t belong. No one called him weird. Even Bruce wasn’t angry. The knot in his chest began to loosen, just a little.

He cleared his throat and introduced himself, though it felt unnecessary with Steve already doing most of the talking. He kept it short, deliberately avoiding mention of his major. The last thing he wanted was to sound smug. He had been called arrogant enough times already.

Before he could deflect further, Steve cut in smoothly, “Tony’s working on his second bachelor’s,” Steve said, glancing around the room. “He already finished another degree and a master’s. He’s only eighteen.”

Tony felt heat climb his cheeks, caught completely off guard by being put in the spotlight. His instinct was to wait for the laughter or the mocking remark. Instead, silence hung for a beat, then Natasha gave a low whistle, Thor let out an impressed “remarkable,” and Clint blinked before saying, “Well, now I feel like I wasted my freshman year.”

To Tony’s surprise, there was no ridicule, only awe. 

When they finally settled into the only open spot, a yellow loveseat tucked against the wall, they ended up sitting a little cramped together. Neither of them seemed to mind the closeness. Bucky headed off toward the kitchen and called back over his shoulder.

“Hey, Tony, what’s your pick? Beer? Wine? Maybe something stronger?” His smirk was teasing but not unkind.

Tony shifted slightly. “I don’t really drink, so… water, if that’s okay. Maybe—maybe sparkling?”

“What about me, Buck?” Steve asked.

Bucky rolled his eyes, already reaching for bottles. “I know you, Stevie. You won’t drink anything since you probably drove here. So I’m getting you a soda.” Then he glanced back at Tony with an easy grin. “You sure you don’t want anything else?”

“Umm… yes. Thank you.”

Before the moment could settle, Clint leaned forward with a half-grin. “Dude, what do you mean you don’t drink? We’ve seen you party.”

Tony opened his mouth to reply, but Natasha jabbed Clint hard in the ribs, making him yelp. The corner of Tony’s mouth curved up, and he let out a soft laugh.

“It’s just media stuff. A couple of wrong pictures at the wrong time, that’s all. Honestly, I’m not even sure how it started.”

Clint tilted his head, pretending to weigh that. “Huh, that makes sense, I guess. But what about that ‘epic orgy’? That must have been wild—ouch!” Natasha’s elbow dug into his ribs again, harder this time, making him flinch.

The whole group laughed, but Steve noticed the change almost instantly. Tony’s laugh cut off too soon, his smile sliding away as his body went stiff. His shoulders tensed, his posture rigid.

“Hey, Tony, you okay?” Steve murmured quietly, his voice pitched so only Tony could hear.

But Tony drew in a small breath and decided to speak up for everyone to hear. He didn’t owe them an explanation, not really, yet the weight of silence pressed on him until he felt he had to. His throat felt tight, and his chest heavy. He rarely spoke about it. In fact, the only person who knew the truth was Happy, his driver and bodyguard, because he had been there.

Steve was still looking at Tony and gave him a small, encouraging smile. Tony took a deep breath and began.

“You’ve all seen the articles,” he said quietly, his voice lower than usual, lacking its usual edge. “The ones with pictures, the headlines. About me at some party when I was seventeen. Everyone read it last year, thought they knew the story. That… wasn’t the truth.”

He paused, rubbing a hand over his face. “That night was the first party I had ever gone to. I only went because a few classmates invited me. I thought if I didn’t go, I’d never make friends. I wanted to belong.” His laugh was hollow. “Big mistake.”

Clint’s eyebrows drew together, Natasha’s jaw tightened, and Bucky’s posture stiffened. Even Thor’s fingers curled tightly in his lap.

“They didn’t invite me because they liked me,” Tony continued, his voice quivering slightly. “They wanted me there to cover the bill. When I didn’t drink, I guess I ruined their fun. So someone… decided to fix that. They spiked my drink somehow, guess they thought it would help me loosen up. I didn’t know until it was too late.”

Steve’s hand hovered near Tony’s shoulder but didn’t move. He waited, silent and patient.

“I’m not against having fun,” Tony said, his voice tighter now, almost strangled. “I just… don’t feel comfortable with alcohol. I grew up seeing my dad drink. It wasn’t a happy scene. He even made me try it as a kid. I hated it. So yeah… they thought it would be fun to see me go wild. To watch me lose it.”

He swallowed hard, staring at his hands. “After that, I don’t remember much. Just flashes. Hands on me, touching me where they shouldn’t. Someone pulled my shirt off. Kisses I didn’t want. Everything happened too fast, and I couldn’t stop it.” He shuddered.

Natasha leaned forward slightly, her hands clenching in her lap. Bruce’s jaw was tight, Clint’s eyes wide, Thor silent but his fists still tight against his thighs.

Tony’s voice dropped further. “I have no idea how the paparazzi got the pictures. I don’t know who tipped them. I just remember being completely helpless. And then… Happy, my bodyguard, somehow got there on time and got me out of there. If he hadn’t, I… I don’t even want to imagine what could have happened.”

The room was quiet, heavy with the weight of his words. Steve finally reached out, placing a steady hand on Tony’s shoulder. Tony froze for a moment but didn’t pull away. The warmth of Steve’s touch was grounding. He could feel the heat behind his eyes, but he refused to let tears fall.

After a long pause, Tony managed a crooked, forced smile. “Anyway… that’s the story. Not some wild night everyone thinks I brag about. Just me, making a stupid choice, trusting the wrong people. That’s it.”

Steve leaned closer, his voice soft. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Tony. None of it was your fault.”

Tony shook his head, brushing it off quickly. “I know. It’s fine. It’s over. Past is past.” He straightened up, slipping back into his usual armor, ready to leave the weight of that night behind.

Bucky finally broke the silence. “I’ll get drinks,” he muttered, moving toward the fridge, offering a small distraction.

They got their drinks, and once the initial awkwardness passed, the evening continued in a much more pleasant manner. The group included Tony in their conversations, telling stupid jokes and sharing funny stories about Steve, which Tony was more than happy to hear. Steve didn’t remove his hand from Tony’s shoulder for a long time, offering a quiet but steady comfort.

Eventually, someone suggested playing Mario Kart. When they discovered that Tony had never played video games before, it brought a whole new level of excitement to the group. Everyone wanted to play with him, and as the rounds went on, they remarked that he was surprisingly good for a beginner. Laughter and cheers filled the room, making the atmosphere light and carefree.

At one point, Tony noticed Steve and Bruce talking quietly in hushed tones. He couldn’t help but wonder if they were talking about him, but he chose not to linger too long on the thought, hoping it wasn’t anything bad. He trusted Steve. It felt strange, but deep down, he realized it was the truth.

By the end of the evening, everyone was exhausted from the intense competition. No one was sure who had won the most rounds, as they had switched teams and played multiple times with different combinations. They also tried some Mortal Kombat, which Tony found entertaining but a little violent. Despite that, he enjoyed the playful competitiveness and the chance to relax with the group.

It was getting close to the time to leave, but before anyone started saying their goodnights, Bruce spoke up. That was the first time he had addressed Tony directly, and it left him a little surprised.

“Tony, I wanted to apologize to you. I think it’s important I do it now, so everyone can know. If you don’t mind, of course.”

Tony realized immediately what he was referring to and shifted uncomfortably. “You don’t have to, really… um, it’s fine. Honestly, I think I’m the one who needs to apologize—”

“No, no. Steve told me what happened. You actually saved my life, and I was the one being unreasonable,” Bruce finished awkwardly, a little embarrassed.

“Um, guys, what’s going on?” Sam asked, curiosity clear in his voice, and the rest of the group nodded, equally curious.

“Well… last year there was an incident in the labs I caused, and Bruce’s work got ruined…” Tony trailed off, unsure how to finish.

“What? What happened?” Natasha asked sharply, concern in her eyes.

But Bruce interjected quickly. “No, that’s not what happened. Steve told me everything. I’m really sorry, Tony. I didn’t know, and I acted like a kid having a tantrum.”

He turned to the rest of the group and began explaining the story he had told Steve earlier that day. Tony felt awkward just standing there and listening, but no one seemed to judge him. Steve interjected at times with his own details, helping fill in gaps and clarify what had happened. The room was quiet in some moments, but there was a sense of understanding, of shared support, as the story unfolded.

By the end, everyone turned to Tony, and the reactions he received were nothing like what he had expected.

They called him a hero and apologized once again, explaining that their earlier thoughts about him had been based on rumors and Bruce’s anger alone. They were sorry for assuming things about him and not giving him a chance from the start. Tony felt a little bashful, cheeks warm, but he accepted their apologies with a small, genuine smile.

The group moved on, saying their goodbyes with laughs and light chatter, leaving Tony with a strange, pleasant warmth in his chest. On the way back to the dorm, he replayed everything from the evening. He felt a surprising sense of ease, not just because the old tension was out in the open, but because no one had judged him. They had been kind, included him in games, teased him in conversation, and even invited him to join their lunches whenever he had time. Tony grinned, feeling almost dizzy with how unexpectedly welcome it had all been.

When he and Steve stepped into their dorm room, Steve turned toward him, eyes soft.

“Hope today wasn’t too much. And… sorry again that we brought up all that stuff.”

“It’s fine, really. Today was great. I had so much fun,” Tony said, unable to hide the enthusiasm in his voice.

Steve’s smile was wide, almost mischievous. “I’m really glad you enjoyed it. They all liked you. And I would love it if you came to lunch with us on Tuesdays and Thursdays… please.”

“Yes,” Tony said immediately, without hesitation, feeling a warmth in his chest that made his grin stretch even wider.

They went their separate ways to get ready for bed, the dorm quiet except for the soft sounds of the night outside. Tony lay on his bed for a moment, smiling to himself, thinking about the laughter, the teasing, the way they had treated him like he belonged. He closed his eyes with a silly, satisfied grin, already looking forward to Tuesdays and Thursdays.

Chapter Text

The day midterms were finally over, Steve did not even think about calling his other friends. He just wanted to get back to the dorm and tell Tony in person that it was done. Not only done, but done well. For once, he felt confident about every exam. Especially the last one, math. Applied mathematics, the subject he and Tony had buried themselves in for weeks.

The minute he pushed open the door, Steve dropped his bag and crossed the room in a rush. Before Tony could say a word, Steve scooped him up, holding him tight. The smaller man let out a startled sound, his whole body jerking in surprise. They had never hugged before, Steve realized mid-motion, but somehow it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Tony froze for a second, stiff in his arms, and Steve almost pulled back, embarrassed. But then Tony shifted, got the message, and hugged him back.

“You’re… what’s this about, Rogers?” Tony asked, voice muffled against Steve’s shoulder, more curious than annoyed.

Steve laughed, relief bubbling out of him. “I’m done, Tony. Midterms. All of them. And I think I did really well.”

Tony leaned back just enough to look at him, brows furrowed, still clearly thrown off by the sudden affection. “So you ambush me with a full-body tackle because you survived math?”

“Not just survived,” Steve said, grinning. “I actually understand it now. Thanks to you.”

Tony tilted his head, squinting as if still trying to decide whether Steve was serious. “I told you you’d do great.”

“Yes, well…it’s all because you believed in me.” Steve’s smile softened. “And I wanted to tell you first.”

Tony blinked at that, expression flickering into something Steve could not quite read. But he did not let go. His arms stayed around Steve a second longer than necessary, and for Steve, that was more than enough. In his book, it was a win.

Steve finally set Tony back on the ground, though he lingered a moment, steadying him by the shoulders. Tony blinked up at him, expression softening as the initial shock wore off. Then a small smile tugged at his lips. “Well, I’ll be damned. I’m really happy for you, Steve. Congratulations.” His tone was genuine, the warmth in his eyes making Steve’s chest feel a little too tight. “We need to celebrate this.”

“Yeah,” Steve said quickly, nodding. “Definitely. We should do something.”

Tony tilted his head, already shifting into his usual quick-thinking mode. “Maybe we could rope in your friends, make it a proper thing. They’d probably want to—”

Steve cut in before he could finish. “What if it’s just us?”

The words came out steadier than he expected, though his pulse jumped the second they left his mouth. “I mean,” he added in a rush, “I really want to thank you for everything. For all the late nights and putting up with me stumbling through equations. I’d like to just… spend some time with you.”

Tony went very still. His eyes flicked up to meet Steve’s, wide for a second, and then he looked away, a faint flush creeping across his cheeks. He gave a short laugh, light but a little uneven. “Just us, huh? You sure you’re not sick of me already? We practically live on top of each other.”

Steve thought, with no small amount of panic, that it might not have been the best way or the right time to ask for it to be just the two of them, not like that at least. He was not even sure how he had found the courage. Maybe it was the adrenaline of finishing midterms, maybe it was his friends’ teasing finally worming its way into his head. Or maybe it was just that his crush was getting entirely out of hand, and he could not keep pretending it wasn’t.

He tried to steady himself, reminding his own heart that it wasn’t a date. Just two friends celebrating. They already spent most of their time together anyway. This wasn’t different. Not really.

But when Tony finally looked back at him, eyes bright, mouth quirking into a smile that didn’t quite hide how flustered he was, Steve felt that reminder slip away. “Alright,” Tony said, nodding once, then again. “Just us. Why not?”

The way he said it, all wry humor covering something a little softer underneath, made Steve’s pulse leap again. His friends would probably laugh themselves sick if they could see him now, but all Steve could think was that Tony had said yes.

And standing there, caught in those brown eyes that were sparkling with something he couldn’t quite place, Steve felt hope and excitement stir, sharp and unstoppable.

That Saturday, after what felt like endless back and forth, they finally settled on a plan. Neither of them wanted just dinner, and drinks were out of the question since Steve had never liked the idea much and Tony flat-out refused, muttering something about not wanting to “rot his brain cells more than necessary.” Besides, both of them were still under twenty-one.

Suggestions had bounced around, bowling, movies, even laser tag, but nothing seemed to stick until Steve offhandedly mentioned an amusement park. To his surprise, Tony’s head shot up.

“Wait,” Tony said, squinting at him as if Steve had just suggested something scandalous. “You mean with rides? Roller coasters? Cotton candy that’s ninety percent air and sugar?”

Steve gave a small laugh. “Yeah.”

Tony looked at him, eyes wide in a way that made him look much younger for a moment. “I’ve never been to one. Not once. Never had the chance. I mean, come on, Steve, do I look like the kind of guy who was carted off to roller coasters on weekends?”

Something in the way he said it made Steve’s chest tighten, but he covered it with a grin. “Then that settles it. We’re going. You can’t go through life without at least trying a funnel cake.”

“Funnel cake,” Tony repeated, like he was testing the words. Then he smirked. “Alright, Steve. Let’s see if this magical place of yours is all it’s cracked up to be.”

Steve had always liked amusement parks, though he had not been to many. As a kid, he had missed most of the chances, too many days spent sick at home while Bucky went off without him. In high school, there had always been more pressing things. He had only been once or twice, no more than that, but the memory had stuck with him, bright and vivid. Now the thought of sharing that with Tony felt almost unreal.

By the time Saturday afternoon rolled around, Steve was buzzing with anticipation, though he tried to play it cool. Tony, for his part, looked almost suspicious of the whole thing as they walked up to the gates.

“This is a lot of people,” Tony muttered, glancing around at the lines and flashing lights. His hands fidgeted with the strap of his watch, though he tried to mask it with his usual sarcasm. “If I die of secondhand excitement from the crowd, I’m blaming you.”

Steve nudged him lightly with his shoulder. “Relax. It’s supposed to be fun. Just stick with me, alright?”

Tony gave him a quick look, one corner of his mouth twitching up despite himself. “Yeah. Alright. Lead the way, Rogers. Show me how it’s done.”

As they stepped through the entrance, the sounds of music, laughter, and the metallic rush of rides filled the air. Steve could feel Tony slowly start to ease beside him, curiosity creeping past the wary lines of his posture. And Steve, watching the light catch in Tony’s eyes as he took it all in for the first time, thought maybe this was the best idea he had ever had.

The park was alive around them, bright lights blinking against the autumn sky, the smell of fried food heavy in the air. Steve had not been here in years, but the familiar rush of it all came back easily. What made it different now was the look on Tony’s face.

The man tried to keep his usual cool, sunglasses tucked into his shirt collar and his jacket slung casually over his shoulder, but Steve caught the way his eyes kept darting everywhere, drinking it in.

“So,” Steve asked, watching him closely, “where do you want to start?”

Tony tilted his head, pretending to study the map board like a serious strategist. “Let’s see. We’ve got death-on-wheels over here, a few spin-until-you-vomit machines, and—oh, look—a Ferris wheel!”

Steve rolled his eyes teasingly, though he felt the back of his neck warm at the thought of a romantic Ferris wheel ride. “I was thinking maybe we should start small. Bumper cars?”

Tony smirked. “Afraid of heights already? Good to know.”

“Not afraid,” Steve said firmly, already tugging him toward the bumper cars. “But maybe you should get used to the idea of fun before I let you near a roller coaster.”

The line was short, and soon enough, they climbed into their cars. Steve strapped himself in quickly, while Tony took his time, inspecting the steering wheel as if he was about to dissect it.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” Steve teased.

Tony looked at him through his lashes. “I was born ready.”

Seconds later, the whistle blew, and Tony slammed his car directly into Steve’s side, grinning like a maniac. “See? Natural talent.”

Steve laughed, retaliating by steering straight at him. “You cheat at everything, don’t you?”

“Not cheating if I win,” Tony shot back, but there was laughter in his voice.

By the time the round ended, Tony’s hair was mussed, his cheeks pink from laughing too hard, and Steve found himself staring a little too long before he remembered to get out of the car.

“Not bad,” Steve admitted as they walked back into the crowd.

“Please, that was just a warm-up,” Tony said, adjusting his watch again. “Now, I vote we escalate. Roller coaster. Big one.”

“You said you’ve never been to one,” Steve pointed out.

“Exactly. Which means I need to cross it off the list. Come on, Steve, don’t tell me the big and brave Stevie-boy is scared of a little drop.”

Steve huffed, but he followed. The roller coaster loomed tall above them, all metal and flashing lights, the screams of riders echoing over the park.

“Last chance to back out,” Steve murmured, half-teasing, half-concerned as he glanced at Tony’s face.

Tony smirked, though his grip tightened on the safety bar as they climbed into the seat. “If I die, you’re carrying my legacy. Remember that.”

When the ride jerked forward and began the slow climb, Steve noticed Tony had gone quiet. He wanted to reach out to reassure him, but before he could, the coaster dropped. Tony’s startled yell blended with Steve’s laughter, and when they came to a stop, Tony was breathless, wide-eyed, and, much to Steve’s surprise, smiling like a true maniac.

“That,” Tony declared, trying to catch his breath, “was terrible. Horrifying. Utterly undignified.” A beat later, he added, softer, “We’re doing it again.”

Steve chuckled, his chest warm. “You liked it.”

“Of course,” Tony exclaimed, he was still smiling.

They wandered the park after that, splitting cotton candy and arguing about which rides were worth the wait. Every so often, Steve caught the brush of Tony’s arm against his own in the crowd. Each time, Tony did not move away.

When they passed the Ferris wheel again, Tony slowed, casting Steve a sidelong glance. “So… want to see the view from up there?”

Steve met his eyes, heart giving a strange, hopeful lurch. He forced a small smile. “Might save that one for later.”

Tony nodded with a faint flush on his cheeks.

For the first time that night, Steve let himself wonder, just for a moment, if maybe Tony would not mind if it really was something more than just a celebration.

By the time the night stretched toward its end, Steve found himself circling back to the Ferris wheel with Tony at his side. The air had cooled, and the glow of the lights shimmered against the dark sky, softer now, quieter compared to the chaos of the roller coasters and games.

Steve glanced at the Ferris wheel, its lights twinkling against the darkening sky. A small smile tugged at his lips. “Hey… I think it’s time we end the night with that. It’s kind of a tradition”

Tony paused, arms folded, tilting his head as if weighing the idea. “Really going with that cliché tonight, huh?”

Steve shrugged, a mix of excitement and nerves fluttering in his chest. “Some clichés exist for a reason.”

Tony laughed and stepped forward, a grin spreading across his face. “Alright. But if this thing gets stuck at the top, I’m holding you responsible.”

They climbed into the little cabin, the bar clicking into place. The wheel creaked to life, lifting them slowly above the lights of the park. Tony leaned back, pretending to look unimpressed, but Steve noticed how his gaze lingered on the glowing skyline.

The cabin rocked slightly as they reached the top, and for a moment the world below stilled. Steve looked out at the expanse of lights, then sideways at Tony. His friend’s face was half-lit by the glow, eyes wide and reflective, a little too open. It made Steve’s chest tighten.

“You know,” Tony murmured, breaking the quiet, “this was a good idea. Better than I thought.”

Steve smiled. “Glad we came here. Together.”

Tony met his eyes, and for a heartbeat, Steve thought he saw something unguarded there, something that made the air feel sharper and heavier. But then Tony leaned back, smirking again, deflecting. “Careful, Rogers. You can’t rope me into studying with you all year long just because of one amusement park trip.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Steve said, but his grin lingered.

When the ride ended, they walked back toward the car, Tony’s energy finally starting to flag. His stride was slower, his words quieter. By the time Steve pulled onto the road, Tony had leaned his head against the window, eyelids drooping.

“You awake?” Steve asked gently.

“Mhm,” Tony hummed, though his voice was slurred with sleep. 

There were no words after that, just steady breathing. By the time they reached the dorm, Tony was half-asleep, barely stirring as Steve helped him out of the car and guided him inside. He leaned heavily against Steve, but not once did he protest.

Steve got him to his bed, easing him down gently. Tony murmured something incoherent, turned on his side, and within seconds was gone.

Steve stood there a moment, watching the rise and fall of his breathing. Carefully, he brushed a strand of hair from Tony’s forehead, letting his hand linger just a second longer than it should. “Good night, Tony,” he whispered, barely audible.

Then he turned, retreating to his own bed across the room. As he lay down, the quiet of the night settling around him, he could not shake the smile tugging at his lips.

Chapter Text

Tony couldn’t believe it was already almost the end of November. This upcoming week was Thanksgiving. Time had flown by so fast. Maybe it felt this fast because, for the first time in a long while, he actually felt happy.

He had had some hopes for college, of course, but after the disaster started, he never expected to have anything like this. Now he had a great group of friends. They hung out constantly, and he joined them almost all the time. With them, he felt like he truly belonged, like he had known them forever. They never made him feel any less than anyone else, and all the past misunderstandings were finally behind him. He was genuinely happy.

And then there was Steve. They were impossibly close, not just as roommates, or even friends, it somehow felt more. Tony knew he had to find a way to get rid of his stupid crush, but it wasn’t easy. At first, he thought it was just physical attraction, something shallow that would fade. But now, after really getting to know Steve, he knew better. He knew how kind Steve was, how genuine, how much he cared about him, how he always looked out for Tony after classes and wherever they were in general.

He hadn’t seen or heard from Justin in over a month and it was all Steve’s doing. But this wasn’t about Justin. It was about Steve being Steve. Steve didn’t do any of it because he owed Tony anything, or to prove a point. He just protected people he cared about. And now, somehow, Tony had become one of those people. He never thought he would get here, and the feelings that had started as a crush were only growing. He didn’t know how to stop them. Part of him didn’t want to, because the euphoria he felt around Steve was unlike anything else.

At the same time, he felt a little sad that Thanksgiving break was coming. He would miss the routine, the closeness, the small moments with Steve. Even though he missed Jarvis, there was something about this, about having people who truly cared, that made it hard to let go, even temporarily.

They still talked all the time, but Jarvis hadn’t seen him since that one Sunday visit. It was a bittersweet realization that he was about to be away for the holidays. He wouldn’t be able to spend as much time with his friends or with Steve. At the same time, he felt grateful. Grateful that he had friends, grateful that he had Steve, and grateful that he had someone he would miss while he was away with Jarvis.

Before this, it had just been him and Jarvis. Now he had his own group, and he would do anything to keep it that way. And it wasn’t like they spent time with him because he paid for anything. In fact, Tony had barely paid for anything since they’d become friends. There was always someone who would pick up the bill, and Tony thought he might have gotten it once, or twice but that was mostly it.

Most of them had part-time jobs or side hustles they did over the weekend. Steve had even admitted that he took on minor commissions for digital art, which earned him some pocket money. It helped him cover outings and activities with friends, though everything else, tuition, supplies, daily expenses, was covered by his scholarship.

Tony smiled at the thought. They were independent, capable, and still wanted to spend time with him. And that made it all feel real, permanent even.

It was Sunday before Thanksgiving, and Tony and Steve were in their dorm, each tucked into their own corner, comfortable in the quiet before the Monday rush kicked the week into motion. Steve broke the silence with a random question, pulling Tony away from his mindless scrolling through his latest code, trying to troubleshoot an error and brainstorm improvements.

“Hey,” Steve said, glancing up from his sketchpad, “what are you doing for Thanksgiving? Are you going home to spend it with your parents, or do you have other plans?”

“Well, I am going home,” Tony replied, not looking up. “But my parents probably won’t be there. They never usually are. Honestly, I think that’s a blessing.”

Steve frowned, confusion written all over his face. “What? What do you mean they aren’t going to be there? It’s Thanksgiving!”

Tony shrugged, still focused on his screen. “You know I’m not really close with my parents. Honestly, I prefer it this way.”

Steve’s expression tightened, like Tony had just said something cruel. “Yes, but still…” He looked at Tony as if he’d just committed some unforgivable offense. Tony could only imagine what Steve was thinking, blissfully unaware of what it was like to live under constant tension at home. The fear when his father was around, and the worst-case scenario when he drank, the relentless comments from his mother about his image and family values, the pressure to meet impossible expectations, the days when he’d present an idea to the board at his father’s insistence only to be criticized for lacking confidence.

Tony was relieved he wouldn’t have to endure any of that this holiday. College had been a sanctuary, a place where he could breathe without judgment. But explaining all of this to Steve? Impossible. He would never understand. So Tony kept it simple.

“Steve, just drop it, please,” Tony said, his voice firm but gentle.

Steve still wore that pained expression, like he was struggling not to say more about Tony’s parents. Tony felt a flicker of relief, whatever internal battle Steve was waging seemed to have ended. The frown softened. He hadn’t pushed, hadn’t pressed further, and that felt like a small victory.

“So, if you’re going home to be alone anyway, maybe you’d want to come to my place for Thanksgiving,” Steve said, his enthusiasm shining through like he had been holding back tears at the thought of Tony refusing. “My parents are always happy for company. Buck’s family always spends Thanksgiving with us, so it’ll be my parents, me, Bucky, his sister, and their mom.”

Tony felt a pang of guilt at the earnest hope in Steve’s voice. He shifted uncomfortably, his cheeks warming. “I never said I’d be alone,” he admitted sheepishly.

Steve blinked, curiosity written all over his face.

“Well, you remember Jarvis, right?” Tony continued, relaxing slightly as he explained. “We always spend the day together ever since I was young. His wife passed when I was around three, and he doesn’t have any immediate family, so he would always work during the holidays. So it was just us. We have this tradition of baking different pies, and then just watching movies while eating them on the living room couch.”

Steve’s expression softened.

“Oh…” Steve said, a little sad expression flickering across his face. 

Tony couldn’t stand it and hurriedly added, “But we can join you, if you don’t mind Jarvis coming with me.”

Before Steve could say anything, Tony rushed on, “And of course, we’ll bring pies!” He finished with a huge grin, which made Steve laugh softly and nod enthusiastically.

“Yes! I’ll call Mom tomorrow morning to let her know. You sure Jarvis would want that? I don’t want to ruin your tradition,” Steve said carefully, as if suddenly realizing he might have offended Tony.

“He would love that, and he’d be so happy to meet my friends,” Tony said, keeping his voice light. He didn’t elaborate on how lonely he had felt all these years, or how Jarvis had quietly watched him endure countless betrayals from people he had trusted. Jarvis would be over the moon just knowing Tony had a friend who wanted to include him in Thanksgiving, and that he was even inviting Jarvis along.

From the look in Steve’s eyes, Tony guessed he already understood, even without the words. Steve’s expression softened, a warmth spreading across his face that made Tony’s chest tighten in a way he didn’t bother to hide.

“Good,” Steve said finally, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Then it’s settled. Thanksgiving at my place, with Jarvis and, of course, pies! It’s going to be fun, you’ll see.”

Tony grinned back, feeling that familiar surge of happiness. “Yeah… yeah, it really will be.”

Tony felt a little thrill in realizing that this, friends, warmth, laughter, was exactly what he had been missing all along.

Chapter Text

Sooner than any of them anticipated, the arrangements were made. Parents and Jarvis had been informed and were ready, and so were Tony and Steve. They were currently on their way to pick up Bucky before heading into Brooklyn. Steve and Bucky’s families lived close to each other there, and Tony’s place, as it turned out, was not far either. His home was a sprawling mansion on the outskirts of New York City. 

The drive from Boston to Brooklyn felt like leaving one world behind and slowly entering another. The city’s constant noise, the crowded streets, and the rush of people gave way to stretches of highway, the occasional trees lining the roadside, and a quiet that seemed almost unfamiliar.

Steve glanced at Tony in the passenger seat, trying to picture him in a place like his own neighborhood. Tony had always moved through spaces that seemed larger than life, filled with gadgets and steel, while Steve was used to brick walls, narrow staircases, and the comforting clutter of a family house. The contrast made him smile quietly to himself.

Bucky hummed along to a song on the radio in the back, tapping his fingers against the seat, oblivious to the thoughts swirling between his friends. Tony’s hand brushed against the console as he adjusted the music, and Steve noticed the way his chest tightened just slightly, a subtle sign of the anticipation he couldn’t quite hide. Having Tony here, sharing this small, ordinary journey to step into Steve’s world, meet Jarvis, made the moment feel strangely fragile, like the edges of two separate worlds were about to touch.

Steve shifted in his seat, a little thrill running through him at the thought of Tony seeing this side of life, the homey chaos of family, the smells, the warmth. He worried if Tony would feel out of place or if he’d let himself belong. 

They arrived closer to midday. Steve’s parents were waiting on the front porch as the car rolled to a stop. His mother, Sarah, had her warm, welcoming smile that could put anyone at ease, and his father, Joseph, stood tall with an easy confidence and a hint of amused formality. Both opened their arms as soon as Steve and Bucky stepped out, greeting them with big hugs.

Then Joseph turned toward Tony, who was half hiding behind Steve. Steve stepped to the side, gesturing for Tony to come forward.

“Mom, Dad, this is Tony. I told you about him,” Steve said.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Rogers,” Tony said, his voice polite but slightly hesitant.

“Hello, son,” Joseph replied, and Steve rolled his eyes, teasingly shaking his head at his father’s formal tone.

“Oh, dear, you can call us Sarah and Joseph,” his mother said, sending a similarly amused and exasperated glance at Joseph.

Bucky’s presence brought the conversation to life after that. “My mom and sister will be here soon,” Bucky said, looking up from his phone. “Becca just texted me.”

Tony chimed in, trying to contribute without breaking the rhythm of the family chatter. “Jarvis is on his way too”

As they moved inside, Steve’s parents guided Tony, opening the house with warmth. “Make yourself at home, Tony. Really, we want you to feel comfortable,” Sarah said, her smile encouraging.

Steve felt a rush of relief and pride. He had hoped everything would go smoothly today, and so far, it was. His mother’s easy laugh, his father’s gentle teasing, the welcoming energy, it all made Tony relax. Steve caught the subtle shift in him, the way Tony’s shoulders loosened and his cautious smile became a little brighter, and it filled Steve with quiet satisfaction.

Steve’s mom headed toward the kitchen, the warm scent of roasting turkey and spices following her. “I don’t need help just yet,” she called over her shoulder when Steve tried to offer some help, waving her hand. “You all make yourselves comfortable in the living room.”

The rest of them settled into the cozy space. The television was on, quietly playing a classic Thanksgiving special. Steve sank into the couch, letting himself relax, glancing at Tony. He noticed Tony’s eyes wandering over the room, taking everything in, the brick fireplace, the warm throws over the sofa, the framed family photos.

Soon, Bucky’s family arrived, carrying several containers of food. Steve’s mom greeted them with enthusiastic hugs, while Bucky’s mom immediately went to the kitchen to help. Steve noticed how natural the interaction felt, families mingling, laughter spilling from the hallway into the living room.

Not long after, Jarvis arrived, stepping lightly into the house with a small bow of his head. In his hands was an assortment of pies, each perfectly baked and gleaming: apple, pumpkin, pecan, cherry, and a more adventurous chocolate silk with whipped cream topping. As he let Jarvis in Steve followed behind, teasing Tony quietly.

“So this is serious business, huh?” He said, nodding toward the pies.

Tony grinned, nudging him. “I told you. The pie tradition is sacred.”

Jarvis overheard and looked up from carefully placing the pies on the counter. “Of course it is,” he said in his calm, precise voice, a faint amusement in his tone. “We never joke about pies. Each one has its designated place on the table and must be cut in order of appearance.”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up, half in mock horror. “Designated place? Order of appearance? I didn’t realize pies had protocols!”

Everyone laughed, the room filling with warmth and chatter. Jarvis, after setting down the pies, offered to help Steve’s mom with the kitchen, and she gratefully accepted. Tony sank a little further into the couch, his usual guard lowered. Steve felt a quiet happiness watching Tony relax, seeing him already part of the small chaos of family.

Tony leaned closer to Steve, whispering with a teasing grin, “Just wait until dessert, you’re officially on pie duty. Don’t mess it up.”

Steve laughed softly, shaking his head. “I’ll do my best, but no promises if my life depends on it.”

The atmosphere was easy, filled with the smells, sounds, and small rituals that made Thanksgiving feel like home. Steve glanced at Tony again, feeling that subtle swell of pride and contentment that came from seeing someone he cared about fitting in.

After a while, Steve offered to show Tony around the house and the small yard. The space wasn’t huge, but it had character, sunlight spilling across the wooden floors, a few potted plants here and there, and the scent of late autumn in the crisp air outside.

Tony trailed a few steps behind, quietly observing everything with his usual keen attention. Steve caught the faintest smile tugging at the corner of Tony’s mouth and felt a surge of satisfaction. The thought that Tony liked the place, that he could imagine being comfortable here, made Steve’s chest warm.

Bucky soon appeared beside them, with his younger sister Becca. She was energetic, full of questions and laughter, and Steve watched as the three of them quickly fell into an easy rhythm. Eventually they retreated to Steve’s room to play cards. 

When they all returned, chores called for attention. Tony moved naturally around the space, lifting bowls or folding napkins. Steve took the lead, issuing light instructions and occasionally teasing Tony when he tried to do too much at once.

“You’re not sneaking a taste before everyone, Stark,” Steve said with a grin, stepping slightly in front of the pies.

Tony gave a small, mischievous smile. “ I just want a little taste of my favorite.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, teasing but firm. “Not until everyone’s ready. You know the rules.”

Tony groaned but leaned closer, eyes sparkling. “Fine, but you’re no fun.”

Steve shook his head, amusement warming him. “I’m plenty fun”

Jarvis appeared from the kitchen with a towel, passing Steve a stack of plates. “Careful, both of you,” he said dryly, “or I’ll have to assign someone to supervise pie handling.”

“You mean me, right?” Tony said with a playful smirk.

Steve’s hand brushed Tony’s as they passed a platter back and forth. The contact was brief, but it lingered in Steve’s awareness. He noticed Tony’s quick, subtle reaction, the way his smile softened for a moment before returning to mischief. Steve’s chest warmed, a quiet thrill running through him at how close they felt in the simple domestic bustle.

“Okay, Tony,” Steve said, a teasing note in his voice, “you officially get the honor of helping mom. But one wrong move and you’re on dish duty for the rest of the evening.”

Tony chuckled “Deal. Though I’m not sure you realize how serious I take these responsibilities.”

“Good,” Steve said, watching him, “that’s exactly what I wanted to see.”

Steve’s parents drifted in and out of the kitchen, chatting and laughing with Bucky’s mom and Jarvis. The living room smelled faintly of turkey, pie, and the crisp scent of autumn leaves from the open window. Steve lingered near Tony, enjoying the quiet intimacy that had grown between them, the small touches and playful arguments over dishes and pies, and the way Tony had already begun to feel like he belonged here.

At one point, Steve found himself hovering between the kitchen and the dining room, carrying a small stack of napkins. Jarvis appeared quietly beside him, his posture straight, his expression polite but firm.

“Steven,” Jarvis began, his voice calm but carrying an unmistakable weight, “may I have a word?”

Steve froze, a little startled, and nodded.

They stepped a few feet away from the bustle, the hum of conversation and clinking dishes forming a soft background. Jarvis folded his hands behind his back, his tone measured.

“I need to remind you,” he said carefully, “that Tony’s heart is… delicate. He is kind, generous, and eager to please, but it does not take much to wound him. And he does not deserve that, Steven. Not from anyone.”

Steve’s chest tightened, guilt and apprehension mingling. “I—Jarvis, I would never—”

Jarvis raised a hand to gently interrupt. “I can see that now, Steven. But I am speaking plainly because I care about him. You must be mindful of your words and actions. You have influence over him in ways you may not fully realize, and even small missteps can leave marks.”

Steve nodded, feeling a flush of both embarrassment and understanding. “I get it. I’ll… I’ll be careful. I don’t want to hurt him.”

Jarvis’s lips curved in a faint, approving smile. “Good. Tony is capable of remarkable generosity of spirit, but he is human. Treat him well, and you will see the depth of his trust and loyalty. Fail him, even unintentionally, and the consequences linger longer than you might expect.”

Steve swallowed, the weight of Jarvis’s words settling over him. “I understand. Thank you, Jarvis. I… I really want to make him happy and for today to be good for him.”

Jarvis nodded once, formally, then gestured toward the kitchen. “Then go. Enjoy your time. But remember what I said.”

Steve took a deep breath, feeling the admonishment sink in, but also the underlying care. As he returned to the dining room, he felt more determined than ever to make this Thanksgiving smooth and happy, not just for Tony, but for everyone gathered here today.

Soon after, everyone gathered around the table. The aroma of roasted turkey, baked vegetables, and fresh bread filled the room, mingling with the warm chatter and occasional bursts of laughter. Steve’s chest tightened with anticipation as he watched the family settle in.

They went around the table, each person sharing what they were thankful for. When it came to Tony, Steve felt a small wave of nerves. But Tony’s words, spoken with that characteristic mix of sincerity and subtle charm, eased the tension.

“I’m thankful,” Tony began, his voice steady but carrying a quiet emotion, “for being able to spend a real Thanksgiving with all of you. For friends I can count on… and especially for someone who’s made this year unexpectedly better.” He glanced at Steve, and the brief, earnest look he gave was enough to make Steve’s stomach flip. He found himself noticing the little details, how Tony’s hands moved as he spoke, the tilt of his head, the way his smile softened just for him.

Steve felt his throat tighten, a little overwhelmed, but he nodded and smiled, letting Tony’s words sink in.

As the conversation continued, plates were filled, hands passed dishes, and everyone began enjoying the spread. Laughter rose easily, stories were shared, and playful teasing from Bucky, who smirked in good-naturedly. Steve made small efforts to guide Tony into the conversations, introducing him to anecdotes about childhood pranks, neighborhood memories, and family quirks. Pride warmed him quietly; he was introducing Tony to his world, letting him become a part of it.

Jarvis, calm and observant, settled naturally into the rhythm of the room. He exchanged cooking tips with Steve’s mom and Mrs. Barnes, shared quiet stories of his own about Tony, and even offered advice on pie-making techniques. Tony leaned slightly toward Steve at one point, murmuring a joke about Jarvis’s “unshakable devotion to dessert,” and Steve caught the little sparkle in his eyes.

It was messy, lively, and real. And seeing Tony relaxed, laughing, and genuinely present, made Steve’s heart feel like it might burst from quiet pride and affection.

Steve definitely noticed Tony loosening up, laughing more freely. Each time Tony chuckled at a story or teased Bucky, Steve felt a warmth bloom in his chest.

Throughout dinner, Steve moved almost instinctively, refilling drinks, passing dishes, and making sure Tony’s plate had everything he liked. “More cranberry sauce?” he asked, leaning slightly toward him, his voice soft but attentive. Tony’s subtle smile in response made Steve’s chest tighten, a small rush of affection that he tried to disguise.

“You are real host extraordinaire, Steve,” Tony said with a teasing grin as Steve poured him another glass of cider. “Thank you” Tony finished shyly.

Steve shrugged modestly, feeling a mix of pride and nervous excitement. “Just making sure my guest is comfortable,” he replied, his eyes lingering a little longer than necessary.

Tony caught the gaze and gave a small, almost shy smile, one that made Steve’s heart beat faster. The moments were quiet but charged with unspoken connection, nestled in the warmth and laughter of the room. Every glance, every small gesture, every brush of hands passing a dish reinforced for Steve how natural it felt to have Tony here, next to him.

Even when he stepped back to let Tony chat with Bucky or his parents, Steve couldn’t stop himself from noticing the way Tony’s expression softened when their eyes met. It was a subtle, intimate rhythm forming between them, tucked inside the netural motions of Thanksgiving.

When it was finally time for dessert, Steve watched as Jarvis carefully explained each pie, pointing out the flavors and small details with his usual refined precision. Jarvis’ gentle humor and attention to detail brought smiles all around.

Steve couldn’t help but glance at Tony as Jarvis spoke, noticing the subtle warmth in his expression, the shy smile that tugged at his lips whenever Jarvis mentioned him. The connection between them was palpable, an unspoken thread of affection and familiarity that made Steve’s chest tighten. He could feel the warmth radiating off both Tony and Jarvis, a comforting and magnetic energy that made the room feel even more alive.

When Tony wasn’t within earshot, Bucky and Becca couldn’t resist teasing. “Look at you,” Bucky said, nudging Steve lightly. “Smitten, totally doppy whenever you look at Tony.”

Becca giggled, adding, “Seriously, Steve, you can’t hide that face. Your cheeks are bright red every time he smiles at you.”

Steve’s cheeks flared hotter at their words, and he brushed them off quickly, pretending to be absorbed in helping his mom pass a plate. “I’m not… I mean—” He trailed off, embarrassed, but the teasing laughter from Bucky and Becca only grew, filling the room with light, warm amusement. Despite feeling exposed, he couldn’t suppress the swell of affection he felt for Tony, not even when the whole family seemed to notice it too.

After dinner and dessert, everyone was gathered in the living room, lulled into a comfortable food coma from the hearty meal. Steve saw it as the perfect opportunity to pull Tony outside for a bit of fresh air.

“Hey, you want to step outside for a minute?” he asked, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Tony glanced up, a trace of curiosity lighting his eyes. “Sure, I could use a little air.”

They walked to the backyard, the crisp evening air brushing against their faces. Steve noticed the way Tony inhaled deeply, savoring the cold bite of the fall air, his eyes soft and relaxed.

At the end of the small yard sat a wooden bench. Steve pulled a blanket from nearby and draped it over both their laps. For a few moments, they simply sat together, enjoying the quiet comfort of being close. Tony’s hand brushed lightly against Steve’s as they adjusted under the shared warmth, and Steve felt that familiar flutter in his chest.

After a beat, Steve spoke softly, his voice low, “It’s nice out here… peaceful.”

Tony tilted his head, his gaze wandering across the yard before settling back on Steve. “Yeah… it is. I didn’t expect it to be this calm.”

Steve chuckled quietly. “Sometimes the quiet is the best part, isn’t it?”

They fell into a gentle rhythm of conversation, nothing important, just words floating between them, punctuated by small smiles and shared glances, the blanket keeping them close. The chill of the evening pushing them even closer. Steve felt the warmth of Tony’s body against his own and the gentle rise and fall of his breath. 

In the middle of Tony’s animated talk about the natural benefits of having a green yard, how it helped with air quality, and how houseplants added oxygen indoors, Steve found himself distracted. He looked into Tony’s eyes, suddenly noticing just how close they were. Tony’s words faltered, quieting in the moment, and now he was also looking back into Steve’s eyes. His chest tightened as Steve began leaning in slowly.  He watched him carefully, taking in the faint flush of color that crept across Tony’s cheeks.

Steve paused just short of closing the distance, giving the smaller man every chance to pull back if he wanted. But Tony didn’t.

A rush of excitement and nervousness tightened Steve’s chest as he closed the gap. Their lips met in a soft, tentative kiss. For a brief moment, it was simply the press of lips, careful and unhurried, but when Tony relaxed fully into it, Steve felt the warmth deepen. The kiss grew slightly bolder, Tony’s lips moving in gentle rhythm with his, and Steve’s heart raced with the intensity of the connection.

He lingered there, savoring the closeness, the quiet intimacy, and the shared understanding that this was just the beginning of something quietly profound.

Time seemed to stretch and compress at the same time, a bubble of quiet intimacy around them, until a sudden clearing of a throat at the back door jolted them apart. They both jumped, moving away from each other before realizing it was Bucky, leaning in the doorway with a smug smirk. Steve’s stomach sank slightly, Bucky would never let them live this down.

“Terribly sorry to interrupt,” Bucky said, the teasing tone saying the exact opposite, “but we’re heading home, and Mr. Jarvis was thinking of going too, so you guys might want to move inside.”

Steve and Tony exchanged a quick glance, faces hot with embarrassment, before fumbling to disentangle the blanket that had been draped over their laps. They trailed after Bucky, still blushing, trying to keep their movements casual.

Once inside, Steve hoped the others would assume their flushed faces were simply from the cold, though he knew better. The warmth from the moment lingered, stubborn and sweet, even as they joined the rest of the family.

Everyone said their goodbyes, sharing hugs and warm smiles. The house gradually emptied until it was just Steve and his parents left. Tony, Bucky, his family and Jarvis had gone home.

Steve stayed to help his mom clean up, wiping down counters and putting away leftovers. The quiet of the house felt different now, a gentle contrast to the lively energy of the day. He couldn’t help but think back to the kiss, the warmth of the moment still lingering, the subtle press of Tony’s lips, the moment they had shared. A sense of fulfillment and hope settled over him, and he made a mental note to speak with Tony the next time they met.

A flicker of nervous doubt crossed his mind. What if Tony thought it had been a mistake? Steve shook the thought away, focusing instead on the excitement of seeing him again. He wished time could move faster so he could finally have that conversation. Maybe tomorrow, while they were still on a break, he could ask Tony out and enjoy a day together, just the two of them.

Steve smiled softly to himself, a mix of anticipation and warmth making the night feel even brighter.

Chapter Text

It was Sunday evening after Thanksgiving, and Steve sat on the edge of his dorm bed, hands fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. His chest felt tight, heart hammering in a rhythm that made focusing impossible. He had been waiting for Tony to arrive for what felt like hours, though it had only been a few minutes past the expected time. Every passing second stretched out, each tick of the clock amplifying his nerves. He chewed the inside of his cheek, then ran a hand through his hair, unable to sit still. His mind raced through every interaction he’d ever had with Tony, every joke, every late-night study session, every look exchanged in the quiet moments, and now, the memory of their first kiss at Thanksgiving pressed on him like a weight he didn’t know how to handle.

Steve hadn’t had a chance to see Tony since that night, and the anticipation made him both anxious and excited. He couldn’t even imagine what Tony was thinking. Did he regret it? Was he angry or embarrassed? Steve’s texts over the weekend had gone unanswered, and with every minute that passed, doubt crept in like an unwelcome shadow.

Finally, after what felt like years, the dorm door creaked open. Tony stepped inside, slightly awkward, hands in his pockets, shoulders tense but posture trying to seem casual. His hair was a little mussed, and his eyes flicked around the room before landing on Steve, giving him a hesitant, uncertain smile.

“H-hi,” Tony said softly, his voice just above a whisper.

Steve jumped up abruptly, feeling his chest tighten even more. “Hey, um… how was… the, um, trip…drive here?” he blurted, instantly hating the words. Stupid. Completely stupid. What even was that?

“I mean-” he trailed off, tongue tied, struggling to find a better way to phrase it. His thoughts scrambled, all coherence gone as he tried and failed to sound casual. He ran a hand through his hair again, feeling heat rise to his cheeks.

Tony took a small step closer, still awkward but smiling faintly. “It… it was fine,” he said, shrugging slightly. “Traffic wasn’t too bad. And, um… I was looking forward to seeing you.”

Steve’s chest lifted at that, a small surge of hope breaking through his nerves. “Yeah… me too,” he admitted, voice softer now. He wanted to reach out, to do something, anything, to bridge the tiny gap between them, but he froze, unsure if Tony would lean in or step back.

Tony’s eyes flicked away for a moment, then back to Steve, still nervous but unguarded. There was a vulnerability in the way he shifted his weight from foot to foot, a subtle flush creeping across his cheeks that Steve noticed instantly. He wanted to say something reassuring, something that would let Tony know he didn’t need to be afraid of this, but the words got tangled in his throat.

Tony stepped fully into the room. Looking up at Steve, Tony chuckled softly, smiling at him, and it felt like the ice between them finally cracked. Steve let out a small breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. Even so, a pang of anxiety still tugged at him. How had things suddenly felt so awkward? Had Tony remembered all the times at the beginning when Steve hadn’t been… entirely kind? What if he thought Steve hadn’t changed?

Before his thoughts could spiral further, Tony finally spoke, his voice quiet but steady. “I think we need to talk.”

Steve’s heart skipped a beat. That wasn’t quite what he expected. Was this going to be a “we can’t do this” kind of talk? Had Tony regretted the kiss? Steve’s stomach tightened at the thought, but he pushed himself to stay calm.

He motioned gently toward the bed. He sat down, patting the spot beside him. “Let’s… talk.”

Tony hesitated for a moment, then slid onto the bed, hands fidgeting slightly in his lap. Steve was next to him, careful to leave a comfortable space, but close enough that their shoulders brushed. They paused for a second, adjusting, before turning slightly to face each other.

Tony took a deep breath and clasped Steve’s hands in his, giving a reassuring squeeze. His palms were warm, and the contact sent a small, thrilling jolt through Steve. Tony’s eyes met his, serious but vulnerable, and for a moment the room felt smaller, the rest of the world falling away.

“I like you, Steve,” Tony said, voice low but steady. “And I need to tell you this before I lose my courage, so please… let me finish.”

Steve’s chest swelled with a mix of relief and nervous excitement. “Okay, Tony,” he said softly, giving Tony’s hands a gentle squeeze in return. “I’m here. Just… talk to me.”

Tony swallowed, leaning in slightly, their knees brushing. “It’s not just a crush…at least not for me, not anymore,” he admitted, a faint blush rising to his cheeks. “It’s… I care about you. A lot. And I’ve tried to ignore it because I didn’t want to make things weird, or ruin what we have, but… I can’t anymore.”

Steve’s heart felt like it might burst. He wanted to tell Tony immediately that he felt the same, that he had felt the same for a while now, but he let him continue, drinking in every word, every nervous glance, every subtle tremor in Tony’s hands.

“I… I just needed you to know before I—before I did something stupid and didn’t say it at all,” Tony finished, his voice almost a whisper now.

Steve leaned closer, his forehead brushing Tony’s. “You don’t have to worry about that,” he murmured. “I like you too.”

Tony’s shoulders relaxed slightly, a small, shy smile tugging at his lips. “Really?”

Steve nodded, his own lips curving. “Really. And we… we can figure the rest out together.”

Tony’s hand tightened over Steve’s, and for the first time since the kiss at Thanksgiving, Steve felt completely at ease. The tension melted into warmth, the nervousness turning into anticipation, and the quiet dorm room felt like the safest, happiest place in the world.

Tony continued, his words tumbling out in a rush, his hands trembling in Steve’s. “I really liked our kiss, and I like you… well, I already said that… but, you know, it’s true… umm, I do.” His voice trailed off, caught in the swirl of his own thoughts, before he continued, more urgently.

“I’m just scared. I don’t know what the kiss from the other day meant to you, but it meant a lot to me… I’ve gone through all the scenarios in my head since then, and maybe it’s too much, but I can’t help it. I’m sorry I haven’t responded to your texts, but I was worried you’d say you regretted it. I know we’ve become really close, and you just said you like me too and I’m so happy that I have friends, and even though they were your friends first, I feel like I belong there. And now that you kissed me… I don’t know what will happen.”

His voice wavered, and Steve noticed the faint flush rising on Tony’s cheeks, the way his lips quivered, the subtle shake of his hands.

“I’m just worried that you don’t mean it, or soon enough you'll have some regrets about me. That you’ll say you can’t date me, and then your friends… they’ll leave too. I don’t want that. I want to date you, but I don’t want to lose my friends, and I’m afraid that if I reject you, I’ll lose you and my friends both… I’m really… now—and maybe I don’t even make sense—and and…”

Steve felt his chest tighten as Tony’s voice cracked and his eyes glistened with unshed tears. His breath came in short bursts, and Steve’s own heart raced, panicking, but he knew he had to do something.

Steve tightened his grip on Tony’s hands, bringing them gently to his lips and pressing soft, reassuring kisses to his knuckles. “Look at me, honey,” he murmured, keeping his gaze locked on Tony’s. “Take a deep breath… in… and out. Just like that. You’re doing a good job.”

He lingered there for several moments, letting the warmth of his touch ground Tony. Gradually, he felt the tension in Tony’s shoulders ease, his trembling fingers slacken. Tony’s voice broke the quiet, soft and hesitant.

“Sorry…”

“No, no, honey,” Steve said quickly, shaking his head with a small smile. “Don’t apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for, and I understand exactly what you’re saying. Don’t you worry about that, okay?”

Tony nodded slightly, still avoiding his gaze. Steve brushed his thumbs across Tony’s knuckles again before continuing. “Look… I was worried too. I honestly thought maybe you regretted the kiss, especially after I didn’t hear back from you over the weekend. But now I understand, and I just… I wish you’d told me sooner.”

He leaned a little closer, voice soft but certain. “I want to reassure you that everything you said, everything you’re worried about, it won’t happen. You won’t lose your friends, no matter what. They care about you too much. And… as for us, I like you, Tony. I really do. And I’d like to take you out on a date… if that’s something you want.”

Tony blinked, his expression frozen somewhere between nervousness and disbelief. Steve caught the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes and gave a small, encouraging smile. “And before you answer… you can say no. I’ll be sad… very, very sad,” he admitted, his voice quiet but steady. “But it won’t change anything between us. It won’t affect your friendships, and it won’t change how I feel about you. I promise. So… take your time.”

He squeezed Tony’s hands lightly, waiting patiently, watching every subtle movement, every flicker of color on his cheeks, giving him the space to breathe, to think, and to feel safe enough to respond.

Tony’s lips parted slightly, and for a moment, the room seemed suspended in quiet anticipation, two hearts beating in sync, waiting for the first honest words after everything had shifted.

Tony’s shoulders sagged slightly, a small, almost trembling exhale escaping him. “You… you mean it?”

“Every word,” Steve said softly. He gave Tony’s hands a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll figure this out… together. You don’t have to be scared of losing anything, because I’m not going anywhere. No one is going anywhere. I promise” Steve reassured, brushing a stray lock of hair from Tony’s forehead. 

Tony nodded, leaning slightly into Steve’s touch. 

“Yes.”

Steve blinked, a little unsure he’d heard correctly. “Yes?”

Tony’s eyes glistened with tears as he nodded again. “Yes. I’ll go on a date with you.”

Before Steve could respond, Tony leapt into his arms, hugging him tightly. They tumbled back onto the bed, laughter spilling out between them, a mix of relief, joy, and nervous excitement.

After a few moments, they settled, lying side by side. Tony was half on top of Steve, his head resting against Steve’s chest. The soft rise and fall of Steve’s breathing seemed to calm him, and he let out a shaky sigh. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I overreacted and made a whole scene.”

Steve pressed a hand gently to Tony’s back, tilting his head to meet his gaze. “It’s okay, baby. You weren’t overreacting. I know this can be scary, and I’m nervous too. That’s why we talk. I’ll always be here to reassure you… please, never hesitate to come to me.”

Tony nodded against him, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Okay… thank you, Steve.”

He pressed a soft kiss to Steve’s chest through the fabric of his t-shirt, and Steve felt the warmth of the moment settle in, a mix of tenderness, excitement, and the quiet promise of something new between them.

They stayed like that for hours, cuddling and talking softly. They shared how the rest of the holidays had gone, and exchanged ideas for their first official date. Both were buzzing with excitement despite the nervousness and fear fluttering in their chests. Steve’s hand traced gentle patterns on Tony’s back while Tony wrapped his arms tightly around Steve’s waist, holding on as if he never wanted to let go.

They spoke about their worries, their insecurities, but it was underlined by a quiet, unspoken happiness just being near each other.

“I missed you,” Steve murmured later that night, his voice soft, almost a whisper. They were still lying in the same position, close and warm.

Tony let out a small, shy giggle, a blush creeping across his cheeks. “It’s only been a couple of days.”

Steve shook his head slightly, nuzzling closer. “I know, but I still missed you.”

For a moment, silence settled around them, soft and comforting. Steve thought Tony had drifted off when he heard the quiet, tender reply. “I missed you too.”

They drifted off to sleep in that position, wrapped around each other, not willing to move even for a second to change into sleepwear or retreat to their own beds. The warmth, closeness, and quiet contentment carried them into dreams, both feeling a deep sense of belonging and the soft thrill of a new beginning together.

Chapter Text

It had been almost two months since that post-Thanksgiving talk he and Tony had shared, and they were easily the best two months of Steve’s life. He was on cloud nine. Just being with Tony, hanging out with their friends, living together; it felt like a dream come true.

The only problem was that they still had not gone on their first real date. Steve tried not to think of it as strange since everyone had their own pace, and Tony was Tony after all. They spent nearly every day together anyway, studying, sharing meals, kissing, cuddling. It was everything Steve had ever wanted, just without the official title of a date.

After Thanksgiving, life had jumped straight into heavy study sessions and Tony diving back into his projects. Between those, their usual hangouts with friends, and their growing closeness, it was as if they had skipped the early awkward stages and slid straight into the comfort of being together. Steve had asked Tony out a couple of times, but Tony always put it off with one reason or another. And Steve, who got to spend time with him regardless, never pushed too hard. If Tony was content, Steve told himself he was too.

So he decided not to dwell on it. Finals had kept them both buried in work, then came Christmas, when Tony and Jarvis had joined the celebrations again. One thing led to another, and before Steve knew it, New Year’s had passed and the spring semester had begun.

The group was hanging out in their usual diner, the kind of cozy, slightly worn place that smelled of frying bacon and fresh coffee. The vinyl booths were faded from years of use, the overhead lights cast a warm golden glow, and the low hum of chatter mixed with the clatter of plates behind the counter. It was their spot, familiar and safe.

As Steve and Tony approached the table, hand in hand, Clint leaned back dramatically in his seat and announced, “Finally, the lovebirds have graced us with their presence.”

Everyone chuckled. Clint yelped when Natasha promptly punched him in the arm, though she was smiling too.

Their friends were relentless with the teasing, and Steve could not help the warmth that spread through him every time. It amazed him how natural the group had taken to their relationship, as though this had always been the next step they were waiting for. There was no awkwardness, no hesitation, only easy acceptance.

After Thanksgiving, word had traveled fast. By their very next hangout, Bucky had already managed to spread the news of what had happened at Steve’s place. Steve and Tony never even had to make an announcement. It simply became part of the rhythm of their lives. They started showing up hand in hand, being openly affectionate, sometimes kissing in front of their friends, and no one batted an eye except to tease them.

Steve did not care if they were in public. He wanted everyone to see how in love with Tony he was, and Tony, for all his mock complaints, was no better.

“Come sit and tell us about your break,” Nat prompted, her eyes flicking toward Steve and Tony with a small smirk. “Bucky here is not nearly as talkative as he was after Thanksgiving.”

“Hey,” Bucky cut in, exasperated, “I told you I spent my break after Christmas with my grandparents. There’s literally nothing to tell because I wasn’t around for anything else.”

The others snickered at his defensive tone, and Steve tilted his head with a teasing smile. “And there’s nothing at all to say?” His voice carried the shape of a question.

Tony squeezed his hand under the table where they had settled next to each other, a small reassuring gesture before chiming in. “It was amazing, actually, but yeah, Steve’s right. Nothing to tell. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Ugh, you two sound like an old married couple already. How is that even possible?” Clint let his exasperation show, though the grin tugging at his mouth gave him away.

“He is right, my friend,” Thor agreed in his booming way. “We crave the drama, the excitement, the grand romantic tales of courtship!”

“Yeah, exactly,” Clint said, leaning forward like a nosy sibling. “You haven’t told us anything about your dates. Come on, I want details!”

He sounded childish, but when Steve glanced around the table, the nods of agreement from the others told him Clint was not alone. Apparently, everyone thought they should be sharing all the details of their supposed dates.

“Yeah, we finally have a couple in our group. We’re just curious. Come on, Tony, help us out here, please,” Bruce chimed in, surprising both Steve and Tony. At this point it sounded almost like begging, which made the two of them chuckle.

“Okay, okay, what do you want to know, guys?” Tony relented, his grin crooked.

Steve leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his temple just because he could. He loved seeing Tony this carefree and open with their friends, especially after the rocky start he’d had with them.

“Well, tell us about your first date,” Sam cut in, tone light but insistent. “Now that I think about it, we don’t know anything.”

The words landed like a small grenade at the table. The chatter fell into silence. Tony glanced down at his lap, his fingers twitching nervously, and Steve felt his own stomach tighten. He didn’t know what to say either, and the quiet stretched long enough that he finally cleared his throat.

“Well… technically, we haven’t gone on a first date yet.”

“WHAT?!” the group exclaimed all at once, half in disbelief, half in outrage. Heads turned, eyes wide, and the air buzzed with collective shock.

Tony immediately scooted closer to Steve, his cheeks flaming red with embarrassment. Steve felt protective rise up in his chest like instinct. He tightened his hold on Tony’s hand and gave the group a firm look.

“Okay, guys, calm down,” Steve said, his voice steady, carrying that natural authority that made people listen. He waited until the murmurs quieted before continuing. “It just never happened, not on purpose or anything. We spend all our time together already, studying, hanging out, practically living in each other’s pockets. It didn’t feel like we were missing anything. But we’ll get to it. So, let’s drop it, alright?”

The way he said it left little room for argument, and one by one, the group relented, a few still smirking but choosing not to push.

As the afternoon wore on, the conversation shifted back to holiday stories and ridiculous banter. The tension melted away. Tony relaxed again, leaning against Steve as he laughed along with the others, his earlier blush fading into his usual warmth.

Later, when they got back to their dorm, Steve felt the tension creeping back between them. He wasn’t sure what exactly caused it, but he guessed it had something to do with the earlier conversation at the diner. Nothing else had happened that could explain it.

Maybe he had misunderstood something. Maybe Tony actually was bothered that they hadn’t gone on a proper date yet. Should Steve have been more insistent, planned something big to surprise him? Was Tony waiting for a romantic gesture, and Steve had just… disappointed him?

The thought twisted in his chest. He was supposed to make Tony feel cared for, not neglected. Now his mind was spiraling. He was a bad boyfriend, wasn’t he? Could he even call himself that? The word felt fragile on his tongue. If Tony didn’t see them that way, what did that make Steve?

He needed to fix this. He needed to talk to him, to clear things up, if Tony would even let him.

Steve glanced over. Tony was sitting on his bed, phone in hand, looking like he was scrolling idly. But Steve knew him too well by now. His shoulders were just a little too stiff, his jaw set, his thumb pausing mid-scroll. He was tense.

Steve’s stomach flipped. He drew in a shaky breath. “Um… can we… talk?” he asked, the words coming out more awkward than he intended.

He cringed immediately, and from the startled look Tony shot him, Steve realized how it must have sounded, like something bad was coming. He rushed to reassure him, stumbling over his own words.

“Nothing like that, sweetheart. I just… I think there’s something we need to talk about.”

Tony’s eyes softened a little, though his voice stayed quiet. “Yeah… um… okay. I think we do,” he mumbled, the last part almost too soft to hear.

“About that date…” Steve began, his voice careful, almost hesitant. “I honestly didn’t mean to drag it out this long. I didn’t even notice how much time had passed, and that’s on me. I know I should’ve done something. I did ask you out, but… I guess we slipped straight into this comfortable stage of just being together, like boyfriends.” He paused, his chest tightening. “I hope we are, at least. We haven’t really talked about it, and maybe I should’ve made it clear sooner. But yeah… I hope you want that too. And I think we should definitely do it—the date thing, I mean.”

Steve realized he was rambling, the words spilling faster than he meant them to. Usually, it was Tony who ran off into tangents, and Steve always found it endearing. But now he was the one tripping over himself. Maybe people were right when they said couples started to mirror each other.

Tony’s expression shifted, caught somewhere between shock and awe. His lips parted slightly before he spoke. “Well, first of all, I do want us to be boyfriends. I really like the sound of that.” He hesitated, lowering his gaze for a second. “And the thing is… I need to apologize.”

Steve blinked, caught off guard. “What? Why?” His voice came out sharper than intended, confusion lacing every word.

“I was actually the one putting it off,” Tony admitted, his voice low but steady. “You did ask, and you tried to plan it a couple of times. I just kept finding excuses. And before you start thinking it was something else, it’s not that I don’t like you or changed my mind. I was just really nervous and trying to give myself some time to come to terms with the idea. And then afterwards… well, you know. Like you said, after the first week or so we just fell into this rhythm. We were so good together that I didn’t even notice how fast the time was flying.”

He drew in a breath, his eyes flicking briefly to Steve before darting away again. “And today brought it all back up. I got nervous all over again and started wondering if maybe you had changed your mind. So yeah… I’m sorry.”

Steve’s chest ached as he listened. He hadn’t realized just how much Tony had been carrying around. Reaching out, he took Tony’s hand, firm and grounding. “Of course not, sweetheart. I haven’t changed my mind. And you don’t need to apologize or be nervous. It’s just us. I like us. Don’t you?”

The way Steve chuckled softly at his own words made Tony’s lips curl into a smile, and Steve felt his heart lift at the sight. He loved putting that smile on Tony’s face.

“So,” Steve continued gently, “we can go have dinner. Nothing big, I promise. Just a dinner. Together.”

There was a pause, the kind of silence that held more comfort than tension. Still, Steve wanted to make sure Tony heard him clearly. He squeezed Tony’s hand again and added, “And again, no need to worry. We both just got carried away with other things. So if you haven’t changed your mind… Tony, will you go on a date with me this upcoming Saturday?”

Tony’s grin spread wide, his whole face lighting up. “Yes. Of course it’s still a yes.” He laughed then, bright and unrestrained, before throwing himself at Steve and knocking them both back onto the bed in a tangle of arms and laughter.

It was finally Saturday. The day of his first real date with Steve.

All the nervous, anxiety-inducing thoughts from the early weeks of being boyfriends came flooding back, twisting in Tony’s stomach like a knot. He was terrified, not of Steve, but of what the date might mean, what it might lead to, what was expected. More specifically, he was terrified of the end of it.

At first, he hadn’t even understood why he kept postponing Steve’s suggestions. He had buried himself in projects that didn’t actually matter, throwing himself into work with a kind of desperation that now made him feel guilty. He wasn’t avoiding Steve, not really. They still spent nearly all their time together: studying side by side, sharing meals, falling asleep tangled in each other’s arms. So why was this “date” so different? Why did it make his chest tighten and his hands shake?

It wasn’t until last week, when Steve brought the subject up again, that Tony finally admitted the truth to himself. The nerves weren’t about dinner or about sitting across from Steve in some restaurant. They were about the unspoken expectation at the end of the night. The possibility of intimacy.

Tony liked Steve. Hell, he was falling for him, fast and hard. But he wasn’t sure he was ready for that next step. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to say no if Steve asked, and the thought filled him with dread. He didn’t want to disappoint his boyfriend, didn’t want to seem broken. And it wasn’t like he had experience to lean on, despite his so-called reputation, Tony Stark had never actually done it. After that awful night at the club a while ago, he had gone out of his way to avoid situations that might spiral in that direction.

But this was Steve. His boyfriend. And wasn’t that what boyfriends did? The thought looped in his head, making his heart race. Maybe he just had to suck it up, push through, and be ready.

Tony let out a long, shaky sigh, bracing his hands on the bathroom counter. He gave himself a silent pep talk, muttering under his breath that he could do this, that Steve was worth it. Then, finally, he lifted his chin and looked into the mirror. His reflection stared back at him, flushed cheeks, wide eyes, hair sticking up in places from the nervous fingers that had run through it all afternoon.

With one last adjustment, smoothing his hair into place, he forced a smile and whispered, “You’ve got this.”

He straightened his shirt, drew in a steadying breath, and stepped out of the bathroom to face the night.

Steve was already dressed up for their date, standing by the door when Tony stepped out of the bathroom. A grin spread across his face, wide and almost mischievous, making Tony pause for a moment.

“Wow… Tony. Um, you look amazing. Wow,” Steve said, his voice full of genuine awe. That made Tony’s lips curve into a small, shy smile.

Steve cleared his throat after a beat, chuckling softly. “Very smooth, I know. But I meant it, sweetheart. You are beautiful.”

Tony’s cheeks flushed crimson. “Uhh… thank you. You too,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.

Steve stepped closer, giving him a reassuring smile. “You ready to go?”

“Yes,” Tony replied simply.

They left their dorm together, heading toward Steve’s car. Almost immediately, Tony forgot the anxiety that had been gnawing at him all day as they fell into their usual banter. By now, they were established as a couple, and at least this part, the ease of being together, felt familiar enough to push aside his nerves. For now.

The restaurant Steve had chosen was far fancier than anything they usually picked. As they approached their table, following the staff, Tony noticed something unusual. Waiting there, arranged neatly beside his seat, was a bouquet of flowers.

Tony froze, completely unable to hide his surprise. His eyes widened as he settled into his chair and leaned toward the flowers, lifting them gently, his fingers brushing over the petals with awe.

Steve watched him quietly, a shy smile tugging at his lips.

“Do you like it?” Steve asked softly.

Tony looked up, still holding the bouquet, his voice hesitant but warm. “Steve, honey, these are wonderful. You are wonderful.” He took a small breath, sniffing the flowers again, then met Steve’s gaze. “No one has ever gotten me flowers before,” he admitted quietly, almost shyly.

Steve’s expression softened, and his voice lowered to something intimate. “Well, we can’t have that now, can we? I’ll get you everything you’ve ever wanted, Tony. And everything you didn’t even know you wanted, anything to see you smile like that.”

A warm, unfamiliar flutter bloomed deep inside Tony. His heart beat faster. He knew now, he was falling for this amazing man. Hard.

The rest of the dinner passed easily and carefreely, filled with their usual conversation and the quiet comfort of being together. They laughed, shared small stories, and at the end, shared tiramisu, one of Tony’s favourite desserts. The one here was exceptional, rich and creamy, and Tony savoured every bite.

On the way back, however, Tony’s nerves began to resurface. This was it — the end of the date. The part he had been quietly dreading. And judging by how well everything had gone, Steve would probably have some expectations.

Tony could feel his palms growing sweaty where they rested on his thighs. He took deep breaths, trying not to let the tremor in his hands show. His mind raced with what might come next.

When they finally reached their dorm, Tony and Steve stepped inside together. The moment the door clicked shut behind them, Steve turned to him. He reached out, taking Tony’s face gently into his palms, thumbs brushing slow circles over his cheeks.

“Today was something else, Tony,” Steve said softly, a light giggle in his voice. “I don’t know why we kept putting it off.”

“Yes… it was,” Tony replied quietly, his voice trembling despite his attempt to steady it.

Steve smiled warmly. “We should do this again, and I already have a list of ideas to spoil you with dates.” His tone was bright, full of excitement. Tony felt the joy radiating off him, it was contagious.

And yet, Tony felt a knot tightening in his chest. He should be excited too. But right now, he couldn’t shake the anxiety about this moment, about what it was leading to.

Tony didn’t reply with words. Instead, he smiled softly and looked up into Steve’s eyes, catching the exact moment Steve began to lean in. Their lips met, starting chaste and tentative, but with each passing second the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent and passionate. Tony felt a rush of warmth spreading through him, his heart pounding. Steve’s lips were soft yet insistent, and every press of them against his sent a shiver through his body.

The faint scent of Steve’s cologne mixed with the subtle warmth of his skin, grounding Tony in the moment. His breathing grew heavier, and his senses sharpened, the feel of Steve’s hand brushing over his cheek, the gentle pull of his lips, the warmth of Steve’s chest pressed against him. It was familiar and yet electric, stirring something deeper inside him.

Tony didn’t even notice how they ended up on Steve’s bed, side by side in their usual position, their kiss slow but hungry. His body moved instinctively closer to Steve, drawn by the comfort and intensity of the moment.

The only thing that brought Tony back to awareness was the sensation of Steve’s hand slipping under his shirt. Fingers traced slowly up and down his back, sending sparks of heat through him, pressing him closer to Steve’s chest. Tony felt a sudden, uncontrollable trembling. His breaths hitched, and his body shuddered.

Steve must have noticed, because he pulled back slightly. Tony stopped kissing him, and a moment later Steve was looking at him with concern, his eyes searching Tony’s face.

“Tony?” Steve asked softly, his voice filled with concern. “What’s wrong, doll? Are you feeling okay?”

“I–I…Stev–” Tony’s voice broke, and to his horror, hot, humiliating tears began streaming down his cheeks. Suddenly he was sobbing, ugly, throaty sobs that he could not control. Steve froze for a moment, then shifted into frantic mode, his hands hovering uncertainly before he started murmuring apologies for something Tony was not even sure about.

When Tony was finally able to draw a steady breath, he spoke. They were sitting up against the headboard now, shoulders touching. Steve’s hand rubbed Tony’s thigh while the other ran through his hair. The gesture, gentle and grounding, made Tony relax slightly.

“I’m sorry,” Tony mumbled quietly.

“Hey, hey, nothing to be sorry for,” Steve soothed. “Just relax and take a deep breath, just like that, sweetheart. Whatever it is, you can tell me. I just want to know how I can help you.”

Tony swallowed hard, his voice trembling. “I guess I just got overwhelmed.” He hoped the words would be enough to satisfy Steve.

But Steve was not letting it go. His brows furrowed, his voice gentle but insistent. “Was it something I did? I want to know so I can avoid doing anything that makes you uncomfortable, doll. Just talk to me, please.”

Tony took another shaky breath. “I like making out with you…” he began slowly, his words soft and hesitant, as if testing them on his own lips before speaking them aloud.

“That’s good, sweetheart. I like making out with you too… a lot,” Steve said with a sly grin.

“Yes, but I don’t want to do anything more than that… for now,” Tony admitted, his voice trembling. His body began to shake again, and he wasn’t sure what Steve’s reaction would be. A silence followed his confession, heavy and suffocating, each second stretching longer as Steve said nothing. Tony’s nerves grew sharper with every passing moment.

Steve turned toward him, fully facing him now. “Doll, we don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. We don’t have to do anything, period. Whatever you are comfortable with.”

Tony blinked, honestly shocked. It wasn’t that he doubted Steve’s respect for him, but he had not expected Steve to be so accepting of not having sex, especially after nearly two months of dating.

“I’m sorry… I know it’s what you were expecting, especially after the romantic dinner we had and the flowers… I just–”

“No, Tony,” Steve interrupted gently, shaking his head. “I wasn’t expecting anything. Not because I don’t want to, but it’s not about that. I like you, sweetheart, and that’s all that matters. We can go at our own pace and not rush. Today was just a date, albeit our first official one, but it doesn’t have to change anything.”

Tony sat in silence, absorbing Steve’s words. He searched for even the slightest hint of insincerity, but found none. His chest felt tight, emotions swirling.

A moment later Steve spoke again, his voice soft as he took Tony’s hands in his. “doll, is that why you were so nervous about the date? Even from the beginning?” Steve’s perceptiveness was almost unnerving in its precision.

Tony nodded, ashamed. “Yes,” he mumbled softly, then spoke louder. “I know it’s stupid, but I like what we have now, and I was afraid you would want more if we went on a date, and—and… I just never done it before, and I don’t know… I felt nervous. I know, stupid.”

“First of all, no,” Steve said gently, shaking his head. “It’s not stupid. What you’re feeling is completely valid. And again, sweetheart, we don’t do anything we’re not one hundred percent comfortable with. For now, we’ll keep what we had before. I had an amazing time dating you, and I want to keep doing just that. Nothing more for now… or heck, ever, if you don’t want to.”

Tony’s shoulders shook, silent tears rolling down his cheeks, but this time they were tears of relief and happiness. He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Steve. Steve immediately embraced him with one of his warm, protective hugs, one of those comforting bear hugs that made Tony feel safe and cared for.

“Thank you, Steve… just thank you,” Tony whispered into his chest.

“No, thank you for telling me and trusting me,” Steve replied softly. “I will always listen and respect whatever you want to tell me, and whatever you decide you feel like doing, okay?”

“Yes, okay,” Tony murmured, resting his head against Steve’s chest. He smiled softly when Steve kissed his hair.

“Now, what do you say we get ready for bed, get back here, cuddle, and I’ll tell you all the romantic plans I have for our future dates?” Steve asked with a soft smile.

“I would love that,” Tony replied, giggling softly.

And that’s exactly what they did. Later, as Steve pulled Tony close and began telling him all about his ideas for future dates, little surprises, quiet nights, silly adventures, Tony couldn’t help but wonder how this had become his life. How much had changed in the past six months. How he had gone from being the lonely kid to a person with a circle of amazing friends and a wonderful, supportive boyfriend.

Tony knew the future was uncertain — the situation with his father, with Justin Hammer, with his career, studies, or even his love life. But there was one certainty: he would not be afraid if Steve was by his side. For now, that was enough. He could be content. He could even be happy, simply being in this moment.

As Steve’s voice softened and the room grew quiet, Tony closed his eyes, letting the warmth of Steve’s arms and the sound of his heartbeat lull him into peace.

And for the first time in a long while, Tony felt truly at home, where he belonged.

The End