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Steve remembers the first day he met Tony Stark. Two years ago he signed up for a tutor and was assigned a graduate student to help him out. Naturally, he thought it was a joke when a tiny kid with glasses sat down at the predetermined spot.
“How old are you?”
"Sixteen.”
Steve had laughed. He shouldn’t have. The kid was smart. Really smart. With Tony’s help, Steve was able to not only pass, but get a B- in a class he was expecting to fail. To thank Tony, he invited him to dinner.
“A date?”
“Um… no. Well, I guess it could be a date if you wanted it to be…”
“I want it to be.”
And that’s how he started dating someone four years his junior. He was expecting it to be awkward, seeing as Tony was at the age where he was supposed to be getting through his second year of high school. Steve soon found out, however, that Tony was every bit the grad-school-child-genius he introduced himself as. He talked a big game, but he lived up to it.
About a six months in, Tony started getting handsy. He was closing in on his seventeenth birthday. Steve did his best to redirect Tony and change the subject, but soon, the next time they were making out, Tony would start trying to take his clothes off and Steve would have to stop him.
“Do you not want to have sex with me?” Tony asked, buttoning his pants and slipping his shirt back over his head.
Steve sighed. “It’s not that, it’s just… Tony, it’s illegal.”
“The legal age of consent is sixteen, Steve.”
“You have to be eighteen to go into a sex shop, you have to be eighteen to legally watch porn,” Steve justified.
“How old were you when you first had sex?” Tony demanded, standing from the couch.
Steve was quiet for a moment. “Sixteen.”
They’d broken up for a month and a half. Tony called Steve, drunk out of his mind, on his birthday. He started crying because he didn’t have any friends and no one to share his seventeenth birthday with. Steve took a cab from Brooklyn to Tony’s Manhattan penthouse and spent the night with him.
Tony didn’t try to have sex with him. He didn’t even try to kiss him. They fell asleep cuddling and woke up in the same position. Tony apologized. Steve said it was okay. They agreed to be friends.
Steve’s birthday came. He was twenty-one. Steve didn’t want to make a big deal of it, so Tony just took him to see the fireworks. They still argue about who made the first move, but regardless of who it was, they ended up kissing during the fireworks.
That was the farthest Steve ever let himself get with Tony. That night, when they went back to Tony’s penthouse, he didn’t stop until they were both in nothing but their underwear. When Tony stuck his fingers in the waistband of Steve’s white (boring, Tony called them) boxer-briefs, Steve’s brain jumped online and he caught Tony’s hands, effectively ending the make-out session.
“Stop trying to protect my honor or whatever it is you’re doing. I can make my own decisions.”
“I know you can. And I can make mine. And I do not give you my consent.”
Tony had confessed to Steve that night that he had been sexually abused when he was younger, so consent was important to him. He also confessed that he had had sex “like four times” before he started seeing Steve, and “kinda once,” while they were broken up.
Steve chuckled and admitted that he’d “kinda once” had sex while they had been broken up, as well. They agreed to table to discussion for later.
They next near-year was spent with Tony trying to convince Steve why it was okay to have sex with him, and Steve being adamant in his decision to not sleep with Tony until his eighteenth birthday.
Around February, Tony gave up. Steve was concerned at first—was Tony’s way of giving him a soft breakup—but Tony assured him that there was no breakup on the horizon.
“It’s not that I don’t trust you, Tony, it’s just that you’ve been very persistent and it’s a bit odd that you just stopped all of a sudden.”
“You’re not going to budge. I know sex with you will be more wonderful than the other four and a half times put together, so if waiting is what it takes, then I will wait.”
As Tony’s birthday grew nearer, Steve grew agitated. What if this wasn’t everything Tony had expected—what if he wasn’t everything Tony had expected? He was pretty good at sex he thought, but after a year and a half of building it up, would Steve fall flat of Tony’s expectations?
He should not have worried.
After Tony’s party, a small affair consisting of Steve, Rhodey, and Pepper, Tony finally closed the apartment door and turned the lock. Without a word, he grabbed Steve’s wrist and pulled him into their shared bedroom.
As soon as they were both in the room, Tony slammed the door behind them and pushed Steve against it. He kissed Steve, pouring in every ounce of desperation he had pent up from the past year and a half. Steve turned his head to the side, ending the kiss.
“What now? Are we going to wait until I’m old enough to run for president?” Tony snapped.
Steve smiled. “Nah. I don’t think I’d last that long.”
“Then why are you stopping,” Tony whined, leaning in to try to catch Steve’s lips with his own, but unable to do so as Steve pushed him back.
“I’ve made you wait this long. Now, I want you to lay down and enjoy what I’m going to do for you.”
Eagerly, Tony flung himself on the bed, hands reaching to untie his tie. Steve swatted his hands away, instead taking the silk into his own hands and slowly undoing the knot. Steve moved on to Tony’s vest, taking each of the buttons painfully slow. When Steve finally, finally started to unbutton Tony’s shit, he was met with the sight of naturally tanned skin.
Steve hopped off the bed and quickly shed his own shirt and pushed down his jeans. With a deep breath, he crawled back on the bed, wearing nothing but his (boring) white boxer-briefs, and placed his hands on the button of Tony’s jeans.
“We can still stop,” Tony panted. “But please don’t stop.”
“I’ve already made you breathless and neither of us are naked yet. I must be better than I though.”
Tony swatted at the bed blindly before landing on a pillow and launching it at Steve’s head. Steve dodged it, let half his mouth quirk up in a smile, and started to remove Tony’s pants.
“Commando?” Steve asked, grinning.
“I wasn’t adding another layer to this bullshit,” Tony grunted. Fed up with Steve’s pace, he sat up and pushed his pants past his ankles and yanked Steve’s boxers down. “There, now we’re naked.” He flopped back, propping himself up on his elbows.
The statement seemed to hit them both at the same time and they took a moment to look each other up and down.
“Woah,” Tony said. “I mean, I knew you were buff but, like, your junk has biceps and abs.”
“You’re beautiful,” Steve whispered, truly breathless. He surged forward, kissing Tony and slowly backing him down onto the pillows. His hands roamed across Tony’s body, feeling the smooth, warm skin. “So beautiful.”
“I love you,” Tony said.
“I love you, too.”
Steve reached over to his nightstand and grabbed the bottle of lube and condoms he’d had there for months just in case his resolve faltered. Tony was gloriously responsive as Steve prepared him. Tony tried to grab at his cock but Steve used his free hand to gently stroke Tony with a lube slicked hand.
Steve deemed Tony ready and rocked back on his knees. He rolled the condom and slicked it with lube. He positioned himself so he was at the right position to properly enter Tony.
“Ready?”
“I’ve been ready for the past eighteen months, je—” Tony’s insult was cut off as Steve slid inside of him. It took some maneuvering but eventually they both found a comfortable position. With a gesture of reassurance from Tony, Steve began to rock into him slowly.
After a few minutes, Steve gained both confidence and speed. He was thrusting into Tony with everything he had. His heart was racing so fast he was surprised that Tony couldn’t see it beating out of his chest.
“St-Steve… a little to the left.” Steve adjusted himself to Tony’s request. “Um, no… my left.” Blushing, Steve did as he was told and was met by Tony howling.
“Like that?” Steve joked, barely able to speak. Tony just nodded and guided one of Steve’s hand to his cock. Taking the hint, Steve took hold of Tony in his hand and started stroking his cock in time with his thrusts.
“Steve,” Tony whispered, hoarsely. “I am… I’m gonna… Steve, I’m coming.”
Steve thrust into Tony a few more times before Tony was coming all over himself, Steve, and their sheets. The sight of Tony coming undone shredded the last of Steve’s reserve and he came inside of Tony with a grunt.
Steve pulled out and flopped on the bed next to Tony. He took off the condom and tied it in a knot before dropping it on the floor on his side of the bed. He grabbed a tissue and took to cleaning Tony off.
Tony was still lying on his back, eyes closed, a sleepy smile on his face. Steve could barely handle how beautiful Tony looked in that moment. He leaned up on one elbow and pressed a gentle kiss to Tony’s lips.
“Thank you,” Tony whispered.
“Worth the wait?” Steve hadn’t wanted to ask—hadn’t intended to ask—but it came out without his brain to mouth filter kicking in.
“Yeah, babe. Worth the wait.”