Chapter Text
Prologue
You know those stories that always start out so implausible? And then get even more abstruse until the brain is so confused and ready to believe everything it is told? No? To be honest - neither did I. At least that's what I used to think. Until one day I ran into a situation that made me doubt even my sanity. And let's face it - someone like me doesn't doubt their sanity. I'm brilliant. A genius at everything I do. Whatever I touch turns to gold - sorry, does that sound too thick? Scratch it. Or wait, no, don't. After all... I am Tony Stark.
Chapter 1
Tony’s PoV
Shit, he was sick...! When he opened his eyes sluggishly and blinked into the slowly setting twilight, his head was pounding and he thought he would have to throw up any moment. Had he drunk that much...? He really should stop shooting himself off like that at the step parties....
Grumbling, he turned on his side, slowly sat up - and froze in mid-motion. He was already used to waking up next to a stranger after a night like this. But usually it was soft, petite curves that appeared next to him in bed under the covers. This time, however, the silhouette made him gulp and carefully move a bit to the edge of the bed. Broad shoulders and a narrow pelvis he could make out in the near-darkness. Only very slowly the memory of the last hours returned and he had to pull himself together not to gasp softly. Damn, he HAD let himself go so much...! Even more than he would have liked. He knew the short, tousled hair was blonde, and if he strained, he could hear the steady breathing of the clearly taller man through the silence of the room.
The feeling of needing to get rid of the contents of his stomach took over and he hurried, as silently as he could, to gather up his clothes in the dark and leave the room in a near panic.
He hurried into the student's common room, hastily strode through and disappeared out the door. In the hallway, he crept down the hallway a bit, hastily turned into the restroom, and waited until the reaction detector realized his presence and the automatic light came on. Without looking at himself in the mirror, he slipped into his clothes, consciously took several deep breaths, fighting down the urge to vomit. Only several breaths later, he was stable enough to lift his gaze and face his reflection, which eyed him skeptically and much paler than he already was.
The nausea subsided, his gaze wandered inquiringly down his slender figure.
The student swallowed and carefully felt his hand over the large hickey that stretched from the collar of his open shirt to the crook of his neck. Shit. His partner had made a lasting mark on him, though he hadn't even noticed while they were at it. Something else that wasn't usually his style. He hated to wear traces of his nocturnal adventures on his skin.
Groaning, he propped his arms up on the sink. He had drunk far too much. His head wanted to burst, the headache would be with him all Sunday, he was sure of it.
Thank God he was able to spend the next few hours under his own covers - alone for once - and block out the night, the memories of which were slowly but surely returning more and more to his consciousness.
Biting his lower lip, he adjusted his shirt, fastened the buttons and made his way to his own room. At least he didn't have to be particularly quiet here. There were advantages to having such incredibly wealthy parents, too. And since they already insisted on sending him to a public university, at least he enjoyed the luxury of a single room.
The university didn't bother him. He was smarter than all the professors anyway - no matter what university he was in. And since he would continue the family empire, it didn't matter what name was on his diploma.
He popped two more painkillers in the dim light, peeled himself out of the clothes he had just put back on, and then clumsily climbed into his bed. Sighing, he closed his eyes and his last conscious thought before drifting off was thankful to his one-night stand that he had been subtle enough not to cause him any significant pain....
Steve’s POV
Yawning, he rolled onto his back, stretched half asleep, and gingerly reached beside him, searching for the small source of warmth that had fallen asleep beside him a few hours ago. Irritated, he squinted out of one tired eye when his groping hands failed to find it. The mattress next to him was empty.
Instantly, he sat upright in bed and let his eyes wander in confusion. The sun was shining in through the window by now; it promised to be a warm and beautiful day. His sense of balance was overwhelmed by his quick action and he felt dizzy for a moment. He held his head for a moment and then looked around the room again, more slowly.
Beside his bed - in a tangled line to the door - lay scattered the clothes he had worn last night. The door to the common room with his roommate was only ajar. Soft music reached his ears. Had someone turned on the television? Maybe his guest had just gotten up and made himself comfortable there? With a small smile on his lips, Steve Rogers slowly got up from his bed, gathered some fresh clothes from his closet and quickly slipped into underwear, sweatpants and a white T-shirt. On the edge of his good mood, he thought about actually having to shower first, but he didn't want to keep his visitor waiting and simply pushed the morning routine back a bit.
A glance at the alarm clock next to the bed made him raise his eyebrow in surprise. It was already well past 10. Steve shook his head briefly and hurried to get into the larger room he usually shared with his roommate. The high he'd felt in his stomach since last night tingled joyfully as he pushed the door open all the way and looked hopefully toward the couch.
"Good morning Sleeping Beauty. Did you sleep in?" he was greeted with a broad grin by James Barnes, known as Bucky, who lay sprawled lengthwise on the couch, boredly zapping through the television program.
Steve's elation was fading. It cramped in his stomach and left a bitter taste. He swallowed and put a grin on his face.
"What do you mean, Sleeping Beauty? Morning, Bucky...!"
Uncertainly, Steve looked around. Hope was still quietly germinating in him, maybe he was just in the bathroom...? His eyes continued to dart around the room, but he saw no sign that he was still here. Had he just dreamed it all...?
"Well, if you ever sleep that long...! You must have looked too deeply into the cup yesterday, huh? Don't let Coach know," Bucky quipped, snapping him out of his thoughts and returning the blond's gaze questioningly, "Looking for someone?"
Slowly, Steve stepped over to his best friend and, after he groaned as he sat up, dropped down next to him on the couch. He shook his head. Now just don't let on anything...!
"No, no it's all good. I just thought I heard someone. But it was probably just the TV...! When did you actually go to bed, tell me? Somehow you were suddenly gone yesterday?"
A dirty grin spread across the brunette's features as he finally turned away from the TV and towards his conversation partner.
"I just got back here an hour ago. You know, I thought I'd test Sam's mattress to see if it's as comfortable as he always claims...!"
Steve's eyes widened. Suddenly, his nighttime visit was completely pushed out of his thoughts. His cheeks turned slightly red as he raised his hands defensively and stammered to himself:
"Y-you did...with...at Sam's...so you did? No, don't say anything!!! I think I-I don't even want to know!"
Bucky burst out laughing, slapping his thigh several times with laughter. It was quite a while before he was able to answer again, and Steve slowly but surely lost the red tinge again.
"You eternal virgin, lighten up! It was bound to happen finally - after all, we've been talking about it for weeks!"
Steve averted his eyes.
He could already imagine the next conversation in the group.
There hadn't been another topic in his clique for weeks, it seemed. Ever since Bucky had kissed Sam once in a drunken stupor and the two of them had noticed that they liked it, they had wanted to take the next step and try it out at all costs. Only because of the exams and all the stress they "hadn't had the chance yet", Bucky had once called it.
Natasha Romanov, their red-haired sports ace, had looked at them both seriously and dryly replied that the nearest motel was just 10 minutes away. Steve had nearly choked on his water.
He still remembered well how Clint had patted him caringly on the broad back and had given him a mischievous grin.
"Great, so now I only have couples around me?", Steve changed the subject and let his head sink onto the backrest with a groan.
"Well, sorry big guy, but that's a problem only you can solve... I really don't understand why you're acting like this. As if you didn't have enough offers... The cheerleaders alone would all let you do it...! Oh, and besides, Bruce is single too, don't forget that..."
Steve rolled his eyes in annoyance. As if he was interested in even one of those loud girls. And Bruce, he was so engrossed in his books that sometimes it was a wonder he managed to follow their conversations at all. Probably because he was just so much smarter than all of them. After all, he would have to be just as intelligent as... Sighing, Steve pushed away the thought of the dark-haired man and gave himself a jolt.
"I'm going to take a shower first. What time are we meeting today?" he was still asking Bucky as he rose and went back to his room to get his towel.
"Two o'clock, out on the lawn," his best friend called after him.
In the shower, Steve was immensely grateful to be alone. The thought of last night had not been long in coming, and just as he could feel the hot water on his muscles, the memory came back with full force.