Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Stephen sat at the now-empty table, swirling sparkling cider in a champagne glass and sighed. The party had been informative, if a bit boring. This had not been a rowdy sort of college party, rather a gathering of collegiate types. It had been an academic fraternity, Psi Theta Pi, who had hosted the event. Psi Theta Pi was, of course, one of the most exclusive and prestigious fraternities on the eastern seaboard and Stephen found himself only a little bit insulted that he had only been invited to his first event at the start of his second semester, not his first.

His fellow table mates had long since left, having wandered off to rub elbows with alumni or sneak home. Stephen placed his glass back on the table, a grand sort of thing, mahogany, Stephen was sure, with a velvety purple tablecloth and golden ribbons strewn about. He glanced to his left, out a window, at the twinkling lights of New York City in February. The snow had started about an hour prior, wisps of white slowly drifting past the window on their journey to the street far below.

It was in the reflection that Stephen saw him, the man with the darn auburn hair and an expensive, tailored suit. He had been talking animatedly with just about anyone and everyone since the party began and Stephen had not been so blind as to miss the glances that the man had sent in his direction all night. Stephen knew who the man was, of course. Tony Stark’s father, Howard Stark the great entrepreneur himself, contributed generously to Psi Theta Pi and the entire banquet hall had been abuzz with energy the moment Tony walked in. He was magnetic, Stephen thought.

Stephen sighed, glancing back at his spot at the table. A small, folded card lay in front of him. ‘Stephen Strange, Pre-Med,’ it said. Something had stained the corner of it at some point that night, the ‘Med’ having been wet and smudged. Out of the corner of his eye, a waiter began clearing the next table over.

“You seem lonely.”

Stephen started, hitting his knee on the underside of the table in the process. He grabbed it and began rubbing as he turned to the voice. Tony Stark stared down at him, hand on the back of Stephen’s chair and a smile on his face. This close Stephen could now make out the finer details of Tony’s face. Chiseled yet smooth, Tony had the most beautiful whiskey brown eyes that Stephen had ever seen.

“Oh, do I? You seem quite the opposite.”

Tony chuckled, taking a seat next to Stephen and laying his chin in his hand, elbow propped up on the table. “I do believe you’re the only person tonight that I haven’t spoken with and I wanted to remedy that.”

“Did you realize that you were saving the best for last?” Stephen asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Tony chuckled, “Of course I did. I’m all about delayed gratification.”

“Oh good because I don’t kiss on the first date, much less anything more.” Stephen blushed. Where had that come from? Was he flirting with Tony? Why was he flirting with Tony? Stephen never did anything like this. But something in those eyes made some of the ice around Stephen’s heart melt just a little.

“Oh so this is a date now? Excellent.” Tony smiled as he shifted the hand that had been cradling his chin to Stephen’s champagne glass, his eyes glancing down at the card which bore Stephen’s name. “I was hoping to offer you a nightcap.”

“I’m not old enough to drink and you’re hardly older than me, if at all.”

“Well how old are you?” Tony winked.

Stephen chuckled, “Seventeen. You?”

“I’m seventeen too, turning eighteen in a few months.”

“My birthday isn’t until November,” Stephen supplied.

Tony’s eyes widened slightly, “Scorpio eh? This’ll be fun. I’m a Gemini in case that isn’t totally fucking obvious.”

“What exactly is ‘this’, Mr. Stark?”

Tony stood, holding his hand out to Stephen. “Oh baby I’m asking you out, obviously. That nightcap, remember?” Tony wiggled his fingers, an obvious gesture to make Stephen grab his hand. “This little party might be over but the night is young and we’re in New York City, baby. I know a place we can go not even two blocks away. What do you say? Will you be my Valentine’s date?”

“Valentine’s Day was last week,” Stephen said, looking up at Tony. He had dressed to the nines this evening. His tailored suit accented with a red, silk tie. Stephen couldn’t help but blush at his desire to rip that tie right off and kiss him senseless. Compared to Tony Stephen looked a mess. He’d had to hastily shower and brush his hair after finishing a shift at the university bookstore. The suit he wore was at least a size too short, borrowed from his roommate, Leslie. Stephen was fairly sure that he hadn’t even tied the Windsor knot correctly.

“And this party wasn’t until today.” Tony leaned in slightly, Stephen getting a whiff of cologne that likely cost more than his Ivy League tuition. “What do you say… Mr. Strange?”

Stephen glanced around them, looking for any disapproving eyes. Only a few waiters and waitresses, along with a small group of fellow partygoers remained. Nobody was paying them any attention. Stephen looked back, locking his pale gray eyes with Tony’s whiskey brown eyes. “Okay,” he whispered as he grabbed Tony’s hand.

They shuffled out of the banquet hall together, grabbing their coats on the way as they slipped out onto the cold streets of a late February evening. Stephen let Tony take the lead, walking alongside him as he guided Stephen down the street.

“So, Stephen, what school do you go to?” Tony asked as they passed a group of shoppers.

“Columbia. You?”

“M.I.T.,” Tony replied, shoving his hands into his coat pocket and shivering. “My old man didn’t exactly give me much choice. He said that I’d go to M.I.T. for college or I wouldn’t go at all.”

Stephen scoffed. “Strict much?”

“You have no idea,” Tony said as he abruptly stopped walking. Stephen nearly bumped into him. “This is the place. I order pizza from here all the time, but everything on their menu is good.” Tony gestured to the sign glowing above him.

Stephen looked up, ‘Romeo’s’ the sign said. He laughed, “Perfect name for a date spot. Why here?”

“Because that prissy food they served at that little soirée isn’t very filling. I’m starving as I’m sure you are too.”

The door to the restaurant opened with the ding of a bell, a man and woman emerging with a pizza box in their gloved hands. The most delightful smell of roasted garlic and baking bread swirled around them. Stephen nearly heard his stomach growl. Well, maybe he was hungry after all.

“Come on,” Tony gestured as he ran to keep the door open. “I’m buying.”

Stephen passed Tony as he entered, the warmth of the restaurant immediately seeping into his chilled bones. After being shown their seats, it was Tony who spoke first. “Thank you for agreeing to come out with me tonight, Mr. Strange. Not everyday I get to eat dinner with a handsome gentleman.”

“Not to be rude or anything, but why did you invite me out?” Stephen couldn’t help but feel awkward there in the booth opposite Tony. His hands rested on either side of the menu, unsure what his next steps should be. At least the gingham fabric beneath the pads of his fingertips was soft to the touch.

Tony glanced down, seeming unperturbed. He opened the menu in front of him and began scanning. “Like I said earlier you seemed lonely.” Tony looked up at Stephen, meeting his eyes, “Did your companions leave you?”

“No,” Stephen replied. “I didn’t have any companions this evening. I went alone.”

“And why is that?”

“My roommate had prior obligations.”

Tony tsked, “A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be swayed only by the obligations of a roommate. Why no date?”

“I’m not on the market.”

“And yet here you sit, with me, on a date.”

Stephen sighed, slumping his head a bit and glaring down at the menu. He opened it and pretended to read for a moment before averting his eyes back to Tony, who was smiling at him in a way that made Stephen feel uncomfortably warm. “I’m not actively on the market. How about that?”

“Better. Same here.” Tony flipped up his menu so that it stood upright. He still held the edges, but all Stephen could see above the menu were Tony’s eyes and that dark auburn hair he wanted to run his fingers through so badly.

“Mr. Stark, it’s you that asked me here. I just want to know why.”

Tony’s eyes flicked from Stephen down to the words in front of him and back to Stephen again. He reminded Stephen, remarkably, of a cat. “Because I figured you’d say yes.”

Stephen cocked his head at that. “Meaning?”

“There’s slim pickings for a guy like me in Boston. I saw you across the banquet hall and I thought ‘Hey, we’re kindred spirits.’” Tony must have noticed Stephen’s eyebrow being raised as he sighed and put down the menu, exposing his face again. “I like both personally, but… you… you like guys, don’t you, Mr. Strange?” Tony inched slightly closer to Stephen. “You wouldn’t have come with me if you didn’t.”

“Mr. Stark-“

“Tony.”

“Stephen.”

“Noted.”

“Tony, I’m not-“

“Hi there, can I get you two something to drink, an appetizer maybe?” The waitress said with perhaps a tad too much pomp for ten o’clock at night on a Saturday. Stephen started, having not even noticed her walk up to them.

“Yes, please,” Tony said. He curled his hands upon themselves. “Do you have coffee?”

“Sure do.”

“Great! I’ll take a cup. And can we both start with a cup of minestrone?”

“Of course dear,” she turned to Stephen. “And what about you?”

“I’ll take a coffee as well, please.”

“Fabulous. I’ll be right back with that.” She tucked her pen and notepad into her apron and walked off.

Stephen looked back at Tony quickly, hoping that he wouldn’t take this horribly. “Tony I’m not a natural-born man.”

“Oh, I know,” Tony said, completely nonchalantly as he reached for the sugars under the window. He looked back over at Stephen, who was giving him a questioning look. “You seem new at this,” he explained. “You only recently came out, right?” Stephen nodded. “You go by Stephen?”

“Yes,” Stephen felt like he had a rock in his throat. He swallowed. It did nothing.

“You don’t go by your original name?”

“No.”

“Do you consider yourself a man?”

There it was, the dreaded question. Did he consider himself a man? His parents always made it explicitly clear that they would never see him as anything other than their daughter. He had cut his hair for the first time when he was thirteen and he still sometimes felt the sting of a belt on his buttocks. Stephen shifted in his coat, under it a suit jacket, then a dress shirt, then about three or four undershirts, then the tightest sports bra he could find. Luckily he had never had a large chest. He had told everyone at Columbia his chosen name and never revealed he’d ever been anyone but Stephen. Even Leslie did not know and he shared a bathroom with the man for crying out loud. Why was he able to so casually tell the man across from him, who was for all intents and purposes, a stranger, a secret he couldn’t even share with a man he lived with? Stephen let a thought form in his head that he quickly tried to chase away.

Stephen knew the secret would catch up to him eventually, legally speaking anyway. He hadn’t lied on his application to Columbia per se, but did spend an uncomfortable amount of time in the registrar’s office trying to explain why his student records and work done had two incredibly different names. God, he couldn’t wait until he turned eighteen and could legally change it. Stephen looked back up at Tony, who was staring at him with warm eyes. He felt so comfortable with this man. He whispered, “Yes.”

“Good enough for me.”

Stephen and Tony spent the rest of the dinner date alternating between comfortable silence and light conversation as they shared a large, hearty plate of lasagna. Tony told Stephen about his educational pursuits, explaining that he’d be graduating the coming spring with three master’s degrees: mechanical engineering, chemical engineering, and nuclear engineering. Tony laughed at every one of Stephen’s bad jokes calling him a math nerd.

Tony, in turn, lightheartedly joked with Stephen about his goals in neuroscience and neurosurgery. “I’m planning on writing my dissertation on neurogenesis.”

“You’re a freshman and already planning your Ph.D.? Damn, and I thought you couldn’t get more attractive.”

“Well, to be fair, it’s hard to fully complete a dissertation on neurogenesis in only four years, especially to the quality that I want it to be. I’ll take the full eight thank you very much.”

“Think you could help me grow some new brain cells?”

“Of course, you do seem to be short a few.”

“Oh Strange, you wound me,” Tony said, holding his hand over his heart in mock offense. He laughed and lowered his hand, using it to grab a pen next to him, left by the waitress when she brought their check. “Give me your hand.”

Stephen did so automatically. He had met this man not even three hours ago and already he held such a hold over Stephen. He watched as Tony scribbled a phone number on Stephen’s palm. He pulled his hand back to inspect it, “Yours, I presume?”

“Of course. I have to go back to Boston at the crack of dawn, but… call me? I find myself here quite often.”

“I’ll consider it,” Stephen said, standing. As they made their way outside, past employees closing up for the night, Stephen found himself overcome with sadness that Tony would be leaving in the morning.

Outside, the snow had stopped falling. It had fallen long enough to leave the city dusted with a thin, white blanket. The midnight street, illuminated with a light buzzing softly above them, was quiet and serene compared to the usual hustle and bustle of day.

“This is where I must leave you, Stephen.” Tony said, gently taking Stephen’s gloved hand in his. “But seriously, give me a call?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll see you soon, Stephen. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye, Tony.”