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stonyinspiration · 1 year

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The Eyes Of A Boy

Author’s Note: This is the rewritten version of a previously uploaded story from a couple of years ago that was intially inspired by a prompt. I am curently rewritting the sequel and would love to potentially continue the story based the reception.

Steve stood on the balcony, clutching the railing as he breathed in the saliferous ocean air. The California sun had risen but was reluctant to fully present itself from behind the clouded curtain.

Despite being in nothing but jeans and an undershirt, Steve isn't bothered by the early morning chill. The night had ended, taking with it the ecstasy and euphoric haze, leaving the light of day to expose and scrutinize the nefarious acts done concealed under the blanket of darkness.

While Steve Rogers had spent decades perfecting a false, unflappable persona, in reality he lived his life akin to a car spinning on an icy track; always just barely managing to maneuver his way around the obstacles in his path. Now his figurative car had crashed, causing irreparable damage to the most important relationship with the most important person in his life.

The voluptuous Malibu mansion sat upon its perch that overlooked the water, and Steve envisioned his body hurling towards the jagged rocks beneath. Perhaps the waves would then take pity on him and wash him out to sea, absolving him of all sin.

Even with the Super Soldier Serum heightening his senses, never before had he experienced anything as physically or emotionally overwhelming as what he had sexually experienced as of last night. Steve had decades worth of countless sexual partners, men and women alike that had stepped through the revolving doors of his monotonous life; only there for a night and soon forgotten. Yet after last night Steve knew he could truly live forever and never forget last night.

The memory of last night was still so prominent that even now he could clearly hear the passion filled moans and cries he had evoked from his sexual partner. His tongue recalls the taste of perspiration on glistening skin. His fingertips tingle with the sensation of the dips and planes of the lean, muscular body they had been permitted to freely roam. His eyes are still looking into the blissfully blown, chestnut brown eyes of the most beautiful man he's ever seen.

Then in juxtaposition to the tantalizing memory of last night, his traitorous mind interrupts the image of the man from last night with the memory of a dark-haired little boy with the exact pair of chestnut brown eyes.The boy is running towards Steve, smiling at him with the unmarred smile that comes with the purity of innocence. The answering shame hits Steve like a sharp jab to the stomach and he tastes bile in the back of his throat. His feet feel unsteady beneath him and he grips the railing with such force that the metal bends under his enhanced strength.

What have I done!?

The guilt he is experiencing is enough to crush him. His thoughts shift towards darkness as he truly considers flinging himself over the balcony as a reprieve from his misery. His enhanced hearing picks up on the rustling of the sheets, and Steve can picture the younger man stirring in the bed they shared. He realizes that this is the first situation in a long time that he can't simply outrun or punch his way out of it.

He takes a few steadying breaths before he finally wills his feet to move and face the consequences of his actions. He walks back into the bedroom where the younger man is still fast asleep, completely in the nude except for a blanket teasingly dipping below his hips. He's shifted from his previous position so he's now lying on his stomach with his face turned to the side as he clutches the pillow. There's a sense of familiarity in the sight of the man's relaxed features and tousled dark hair; an innocence that is absent in his waking life but reminiscent of a simpler time

He's the most beautiful creature since Steve's late wife to ever grace this world. Dramatically long eyelashes fan those chestnut orbs that are his eyes; full and wavy dark hair; a delicately maintained goatee on his chin; plush pink lips; a lean and muscular body with a perky buttocks. He's the ultimate sexual fantasy of any man or woman, yet even if he hadn't been as aesthetically attractive as he was, Steve intrinsically knew he’d still have thought him utterly beautiful.

Fresh bruises stick out against tanned skin and white sheets; angry, red and purple splotches marred his hips and neck from possessive fingers and a hungry mouth. Steve swallows, torn between feeling remorse and an unsettling, animalistic pride at having laid his claim. But he knew that this man wasn't his to keep. He wasn't ever his to claim.

There's a pricking in Steve's eyes as he stands watching the man he loves more than anything on earth. The very same man that he had once held as a baby in his arms and had witnessed his childish features slowly mature from teenager to adult.

The birth of his beloved Godson, Anthony Edward Stark, had doubled as Steve Rogers’ personal rebirth. Before Tony, Steve had lived as a ghost observing the world of the living. He was trapped in a body that had stopped physically aging past thirty and life seemed like an infinite stretch of desolation he was destined to wander until death, or at least until he found a way to forgo the serum that made his body close to indestructible

The transient style and anonymity of being a S.H.I.E.L.D agent had suited him and working had become an obsession. Any relationships he had were tied to S.H.I.E.L.D and strictly professional. Even his sordid sexual encounters--which he had many of-- were devoid of any sort of attachments. He had done many things that he wasn't proud of in search of a feeling different from the omnipotent guilt and crippling sorrow that undertoned his existence. Yet no dangerous mission, or experiential sexual, had managed to fully restore his humanity. For so long he had lived this way until the day Tony had graced his world.

When Steve had held Tony as a baby in his arms for the very first time, it was like his gray world bloomed again with the most vibrant of colors. Tears had flowed freely down his cheeks and a smile had formed on his lips as he looked down at the tiny baby in his arms. It was that day that the very soul he once thought lost forever finally returned to him.

Howard and Maria Stark had anointed him as Tony's Godfather, and with the title came a renewed sense of purpose. Steve had become his self-appointed protector and vowed to dedicate his very existence to making sure that Tony grew up safe and loved.

Even now as he watches Tony sleep, he can't help but remember the small child that he wished he could whisk away from self-destructive warring parents. He remembers the insolent teenager that tried his patience, but amazed him during his visits to MIT. He remembers the young adult that stayed faithfully by Edward Jarvis's bedside as he lay dying, and the broken young man that sobbed in his arms after his parent's funerals.

As Steve searches through the archives of his memory he cannot reconcile when his love for Tony had morphed into this. He had loved Tony the way he would have loved his own child and had tried his best to be the friend that the lonely child needed. As time went by Tony grew older, but their relationship, like Steve, hadn't really changed at all. He would have never imagined that Tony's feelings for him could have shifted until the night of Howard and Maria's funeral.

Tony was twenty-one, and overwhelmed with grief for his parents, spent the day excessively drinking. That night as Steve attempted to put him to bed, Tony had kissed him. Steve had been stunned but immediately rejected his advances, even as Tony had begun to sexually proposition him. Steve had tried his best to be gentle with the grieving young man, but at one point his patience dissolved and he grew angry, and it devolved into an argument. Tony hurled the most hateful words at him, attempting to get a rise out of Steve. Steve stood firm, taking his abuse until the wounded young man’s heated anger was overtaken by grief. As he erupted into sobs Steve held him close, and once again Tony was a little boy again. Tony had cried himself to sleep in Steve’s arms.

The next morning neither man brought up what had transpired the night before. Steve knew that Tony wasn’t in his right mind when he had kissed him and was just looking for sexual comfort. Steve tried his best to forget the entire incident in hopes their relationship could resume as normal.

Had something changed within Steve after that night? Or had it happened sometime during the five years Tony had remained distant from him? Maybe it happened sometime during these past couple of days of their reconnection where they spent the most blissful period of time together in years basking in the California summer sun.

All Steve knew was that in these past days he had felt an undeniable stirring within himself whenever Tony laughed or smiled, and that stirring had turned to a jolt of electricity whenever Tony had touched him. Any reservations Steve should have had were silenced last night by Tony's lips and hands. All his senses filled with Tony and nothing in that moment existed other than him. Tony commanded his body and for the first time since before he had taken the Super Soldier Serum, Steve was weak.

Steve had nothing to compare his current situation to. As far as he knew no other human being like him had ever existed. There wasn't a single soul in existence, past or present, that could advise him on his predicament. Their dynamic was as non-replicable as the Super Soldier Serum that flowed through his veins, and just as permanent a life change.

"Steve?"

Sleepy eyes look up at him, interrupting his thoughts. Tony yawns and stretches his arms above his head; the sheets seem to whisper mockingly as they teasingly slip further down his hips. There's a blissful look in his eyes and a self-satisfied smirk on his face that simultaneously relieves and irks Steve.

"Hey." Steve tries to sound casual, but his voice breaks on that single syllable.

"Morning", Tony says cheerfully. "What time is it?"

Tony turns to peer at the alarm on the nightstand before releasing a groan of displeasure at the offensive digital numbers, and burrows further beneath the blankets. "Were you planning on sneaking out on me, huh?" Tony's tone is playful but the mere suggestion horrifies Steve.

“Of course not”, Steve ardently declares, seating himself on the edge of the mattress and entwining his fingers in his.

"Then come here", Tony tugs his arm towards him. "Lie down with me." His eyes are pleading, just like they had been last night, and even though he could easily shake him off with his super strength, he is once again rendered powerless by those eyes.

Steve obliges and Tony cocoons the both of them in blankets before clinging his naked body to Steve's clothed body. Steve presses his lips to the top of his head as Tony nuzzles his face against Steve's neck. For a moment Steve closes his eyes and inhales his scent.

"Why are you wearing pants?" Tony chastises. Then lowering his voice in lascivious intent, 'It should be a crime. It sends an involuntary shiver of excitement down his body. He could also say the same thing about Tony's entire body and about to say so aloud when Tony makes quic work of his belt and his calloused hand wraps around his traitorous, hardening cock.

Tony's fingers are magic and Steve is gasping his name as he strokes. "Tony". Steve gasps. "Tony... Tony... Then Tony lowers his head, and Steve knows that if Tony goes further he won’t be able to make himself stop. Wait, Steve rasps. "Stop", Steve pleads. Tony lifts up his head.

“What's wrong?" Tony asks, concerned. "Did I–was I–?"

Steve shakes his head. It takes him a moment to regulate his breathing. "No. it's just-", Sieve painfully tucks his erection back into his underwear. "We need to... we should talk."

Tony scrutinizes his face. "Okay..." He says, peering at him with uncertainty.

“Let me just-”, Steve struggles against the blankets and stands to right his pants. He then notes that he's instead left Tony completely exposed and apologetically replaces the blanket over his bare lap. Then he once again takes a seat on the bed but leaves a gap of distance between them.

"Last night..." Steve begins. He loses his words under Tony's gaze

“Was fucking fantastic?” Tony offers.

"No.” Steve says too abruptly. Tony's smile disappears. "I mean yes!" Steve quickly backpedals. "It was!"

“Is this a homophobic thing?" Tony raises a judgmental eyebrow.

Steve scoffs. "I left any denial about my sexual identity back in the 60's."

"Yeah, I was gonna say that after last night there's no doubt you've done this before. I mean I thought I was good–I mean I’m great–but I can't compete with what you did.” Tony then lowers his head in a mock bow. "I humbly bow before the master."

Steve rolls his eyes and lets out a noise of frustration."This was a mistake," Steve tersely declares, running his hands nervously through his already mussed hair. Steve then looks up in time to catch a glimpse of defiance in Tony's eyes, swirling bright and challenging, before he's lurching forward, catching Steve's lips. It's hard and filled with determination, catching his bottom lip in his teeth before abruptly pulling away. Steve is too late to suppress the sound elicited from his mouth.

Tony's face is close to his, his breath hot against his skin, his hands still grasping at his hair. "The only mistake," Tony rasps, "was not doing this sooner."

If Steve believed in magic he would insist that Tony has bewitched him. His head is foggy, his tongue heavy, as all his senses once again are filled with Tony.

The image of Tony as a child once again invades him mind, forcing himself to come to his senses and reveal the ruse. His attraction suddenly morphs into something heated and something cold and sickly curling in the pit of his stomach.

"No, Tony. He insists, his eyes stern as he firmly places his hands on Tony's shoulders to root him in place. "What happened between us wasn't right. What I did was unforgivable." He allows himself to fully feel the weight of his actions. He is disgusted with himself. He had done some horrible, unforgivable things in his life, but to take advantage of someone he loved and had sworn to protect… He swallows the lump forming in his throat. "I'm sorry." Tony's bewildered expression blurs before him as tears fill his eyes.

Steve cannot remember the last time he cried. It must have been even longer the last time he'd allowed himself any sort of vulnerability in front of another human being. He wants to turn his emotions off again. He doesn't ever want to feel as good as he did last night or as lousy as he does now. Feelings have never done anything but bring him pain.

"Whoa!” Tony exclaims. He stares incredulously at him, and Steve wonders if Tony is slowly processing the violation. But then Tony is gingerly wiping his tears with the pads of his thumbs. “Steve", He offers him a wry smile. "I have no idea what you are talking about."

Steve shakes his head in disbelief. “I took advantage of you."

"You what!” Tony barks out a laugh. “Are you being serious?”Steve clenches his jaw in frustration and slinks further from him, but Tony grabs his hands. "For clarification, I'm the one that reached out to you. I'm the one that invited you here for the week. I'm the one that kissed you. Okay?"

“It doesn't work that way”, Steve insists. "You're just a kid."

To Steve's chagrin Tony lets out a boisterous laugh. "I'm close to thirty, Stevel"

'I'm eighty-one years old!' Steve snaps. "That makes me the real adult here." Tony continues to laugh and Steve feels anger flushing his cheeks.

“Seriously? Tony chides as Steve abruptly leaves the bed and starts to pace like an animal in the zoo. “Steve! I'm fine.” Then with a soft hilt of exasperation in his tone, “You’re overreacting.”

“You're not getting it!" Steve shouts, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "Whatever you want to call last night, it can't happen again! Then, quieter, he says, “Somehow, we need to move past it.”

Tony gapes at him as though he's been stunned into silence. "Move past it", Tony echoes as though he's weighing the words in his mouth.

Steve gravelly nods. Then despite the suppleness of every tendon and muscle, Tony seems to fold into himself. Suddenly he's that fragile little boy again that both feared and loved his father. "It's for the best." Steve insists. He moves to comfort him but when Tony raises his head his expression is hard.

"Is that an order, Mr. Captain America?" His words are filled with derision.

Steve involuntarily clenches his jaw at the name. Captain America had been dead and buried for decades, along with the righteous man Dr. Erskin believed him to be. He'd never be him again.

"Don't call me that." Steve warns

"Why not?" Tony challenges. "Was fucking me into the mattress last night unpatriotic?"

"Stop it." He says he through gritted teeth. He'd almost forgotten how Tony loved to push his buttons.

"What's the matter Captain Righteous?" Tony taunts. "You can't handle the full Stark package?"

And just like that his Tony is gone. He's been replaced once again with that glib persona that had driven a wedge between the two of them for years. He's the ruthless businessman that prioritizes profit over integrity. He's the pompous celebrity that flaunts for the cameras. This Tony hadn't reared his ugly head until this moment and Steve had mistakenly believed he was as gone as Captain America was.

"Too bad”, Tony tisks. "There's still so much more fun we could have had." He swings his legs over the edge of the bed with his back facing Steve. "Well you know what they say', he says as he gets to his feet, "C'est la vie".

Still in the complete nude, he unabashedly strides past Steve out of the bedroom. Steve knows that he's lost him.

“Tony, please don't go." Steve pleads, desperation lacing his words. How could words alone make this young man understand that this is wrong for reasons more intimately strange than either man could possibly fathom.

“I'm gonna shower." Tony states over his shoulder as he pads off.

"Fuck!" Steve hisses under breath. For a few moments he stands rooted to the spot Tony had left him. That will definitely be the last time he’ll ever see his Godson again. He'd come here to patch up their relationship but instead had severed it forever. A meaningless existence stretched before him, desolate and dark and devoid of Tony. He'd just gotten him back. How could he survive losing him again?

Steve bolts from the room, his nimble agility propelling him to be instantly at Tony's heels

"Tony."

Tony jumps at the sound of his voice.

"Holy shit!" He exclaims, turning on the balls of his feet, every tendon poised and strained to attack. "Don't do that!" Tony barks before turning to continue his stride down the seemingly endless hallway of the expansive mansion.

“I don't want to leave like this.” Steve pleads, placing a halting hand on his shoulder.

The muscles in Tony's back grow taunt, and he abruptly slaps his hand away.” I said it's fine," He says irritably. "Stop making everything such a damn crisis.”

Steve grabs his bicep as he attempts to turn away again and Tony descends upon him with unbridled fury. “Let me go." He hisses the words through his teeth, his voice quivering with rage.

Steve apologetically shakes his head. "I can't.”

Suddenly Tony's fist connects with his cheek. Steve's hand flies up to his face in surprise, the unexpected assault catching him off guard. It's not hard enough to leave any damage- won't even bruise Steve's skin-but it smarts in other ways.

The two men's stunned expressions mirror each other and it's like all air has been sucked out of the room. Tony then extends his hand in an apologetic gesture, his eyes fearful and remorseful. "Don't follow me", he whispers, lowering his head in resolve.

In the millisecond it takes for Tony to turn though, Steve swiftly places himself in front of his path. Tony,momentarily startled before his expression contorts into rage, elicits an ugly, angry sound before attempting to shove Steve with all his might.

Steve remains steadfast and it's as futile as trying to move a brick wall, only further enraging the young man. He takes another swing but Steve catches his fist, and surging forward, pushes Tony roughly against the wall, pinning his arms above his head. Tony squirms and attempts to kick him but Steve slots his legs against his.

“Stop it," Steve demands as Tony continues to struggle. "Stop it! Will you just listen to me, Goddamnit!"

Finally, Tony stops struggling but the detestment he's directing Steve's way is intense. It's worse than the expression on Tony's face during that fateful argument that had originally caused the riff in their relationship five years before. Steve was unable to take back his words no matter the amount of apologies he'd given. He couldn't stop the space between them from expanding into an ocean's worth of distance. Tony had steadily removed himself from Steve's life until their relationship was reduced to holiday cards and rushed phone calls.

Steve knew down to his core that this would be the last time he'd ever see Tony again outside of the cover of a magazine or a television screen. This would be the very last time he'd hear his voice or breathe in his scent. There was no point in holding the cards against his chest any longer. He might as well fold and leave everything on the table.

There was nothing left to lose.

"I love you!" Steve ardently declares, his bubbling emotion finally spilling over into desperation. "I love you so much," he chokes. "It scares me."

All the anger seems to dissipate from Tony and Steve releases his wrists, knowing that he has his full attention.

“I loved you from the moment I held you in my arms when you were a baby. I've loved you your entire life. You were the son I'd never had. I just wanted you to be happy and protected."

Tony's brow is creased, his lips tight, his eyes large and questioning as he takes in Steve's words. Steve's throat aches, and he tries to swallow his bubbling emotions.

"You were everything to me, and you still are. But then you grew up. Last night I scared myself. Suddenly you weren't just Tony- you were a grown man. And I wanted you in a way I'd never wanted you before. I wanted you. God, I wanted you so bad, but you aren't mine to take."

An intimate silence transpires between them, their breathing the only sounds that fill the space.Then with tears in his eyes and an air of finality, Steve says,"I'll grab my stuff." His legs are heavy as he prepares to walk out of his life.

“My parents' funeral”, Tony's voice halts his tracks. “I was drunk, but I knew what I wanted. I would lie in bed thinking of you. Imagining what it would be like if..." He takes a moment to mull over his next words. "What would it be like if you could feel the same way about me the way I feel about you.” Tony licks his bottom lip, and whether it was intentional or unintentional doesn't matter because Steve's body would have produced the same result. He's suddenly hyper aware of the fact that Tony is still standing fully nude before him.

"Even if you had punched my lights out for kissing you”, Tony continues, "It would have been worth it. "

Steve releases a noise of frustration, between a moan and strangled cry. "I'm decades your senior! The serum keeps me young while everyone else I know is either dead or dying. If the world was the way it should be, I'd be in a home and you'd have spent the night with someone that's actually your own age. Someone you could have a future with.”

"But it's not," Tony insists. "Get it through your head: I'm not that kid anymore. You don't need to take care of me. I'm an adult and I make my own decisions. Can’t you get that?”

Steve looks into the young man's eyes. The past begins to melt away and for the first time he's truly seeing the man he has become. The beautiful, brilliant, successful man that held his heart. But the boy still lived within the man, and will certainly rear his intrusive self in his mind’s eye. The two were one in the same. Would the boy forever obstruct his view of the man before him? Could Steve move past it? Steve wasn't sure, but at least for now the person before him was a man–a great man. One of the greatest men Steve has ever known. A man that Steve loved and loved him back. For now it had to be enough.

Steve could only simply nod.

"Good. Then stay."

Tony closes the gap between them, catching his lips, kisses him slowly, coercing his tongue into Steve's mouth until allowed access, until all he can taste is his heat and the bitter-sweetness that lingers like memories. Tony begins to pull away, but Steve pulls him in, kissing him with a savage ferocity that is equivalent to that of a drowning man starved for air. Tony presses his naked body against him, and shamelessly rubs himself against the crotch of Steve's jeans. Steve groans, squeezing Tony’s buttocs in response, eliciting an enthusiastic response. When they finally part to catch their breath, they’re both panting.

“It's cold in here," Tony raps, "and I'm naked.”

Steve chuckles. "Im aware" he slyly quips, his eyes darting to his prominent arousal.

"Shower?" He offers.

"If you'll join me."

Steve goes slowly this time, kissing and touching every inch of his body under the steamy spray of water. He gives up complete control by getting on his knees on the cool tile in a submissive gesture before the younger man. He lies his heart before him, giving him full permission to do what he pleases with it. It's Tony's to love and it's Tony's to break. No matter the outcome, Steve will die a happy man.

* * * * * * * *

"You know, you could stay still here as long as you want. It's a big place. Way too big for just one person.”

They're on the terrace, seated together on the circular couch that surrounds the fire pit. Tony's head rests on Steve's shoulder, watching the fire dance, flaring red echoes in the warm depths of Steve's azure eyes.

Steve frowns. "I can stay for a few more weeks. But then I'll be out of touch for two months on a work trip."

"Right." Tony concedes, hiding his disappointment in the embers of the fire. "Secret spy stuff."

Steve makes a noncommittal noise in response.

And because he can't keep his mouth shut, he frustratingly adds, "Don't you think you've done more than enough for Uncle Sam? You aren't their properly. Isn't it time you retired? Work on your art?"

Steve's expersission is serious. "I haven't worked on my art for a while."

Tony's face remains neutral, but inside he’s filled with fear and anxiety. Steve had no idea what a mess Tony was. Okay, he probably had a vague conception, but Steve really had no idea. He could make a vow at this moment to be better for Steve, but he just knew he was destined to slip up again, and Steve would inevitably know what a true fuck up he was and wouldn't love him anymore. His thoughts flutter like panicked birds, knocking into the sides of his head until his head begins to pound. He decides to throw Steve a lifeline.

"Or we could just do this."

"This?" Steve questions.

"You know”, Tony says gesturing between them, doing his best to seem nonchalant. "It's not like I need your varsity jacket or anything like that. If you prefer, we can continue this without making it a thing."

Steve is staring hard at him and Tony feels uneasy. So for clarification, he adds, "You know, ‘no strings’.”

'No strings attached’ was practically Tony Stark's motto. The thought of commitment, of being tied to someone, repelled him. Any personal relationship he had, be it romantic or platonic, were contrived. Yet here was, wanting Steve to stay with him. He never wanted Steve to leave again.

Other than the now deceased Edward Jarvis, Steve Rogers has been the most important adult figure in his life since birth. Tony has spent his life wanting Steve by his side, but as their relationship transitioned through the years, so did Tony's wants. As a small child he wanted Steve as a strong and protective male figure with gentle hands; as a pre-pubescent teen he wanted Steve as a confidant and as an encouraging mentor; as horny young adult he wanted Steve's approval even as he sexually fantasized about him. Now at this moment in his adulthood, he wanted Steve to be his and his only. Tony wanted to be completely his. Although he'd settle for anything that Steve offered, as long as he still wanted him.

“I don't want this.” Steve says. Tony feels his stomach drop. His expression must be telling because Steve adds,"I mean of course I still want to have sex with you. But I also want to take you out. I want to get to know you again." “What if you don't like what you see?" Tony asks, lowering his head in shame.

Steve gently lifts his chin. "I love you. That’s the only thing I know. And I promise that's never going to change, though."

Tony’s heart soars in his chest and he kisses Steve to settle down the emotions within him.

Although he's much too afraid to say those exact words for fear he won't be able to hold himself together, he does his best to convey his feelings through his chest.. He would never love anyone the way he loves Steve. There will never be anyone else.

Then Steve adds, “You know, if you ever find yourself wanting to move on from this, then just say the word. Just don't disappear on me again, okay? I can’t take it.”

Tony wants to tell him that he went away only because he knew that whenever he looked at him he only saw his father. He wanted to say he knew Steve didn't approve of his lifestyle and he couldn't handle the disappointment in his eyes. He knew how Steve felt about him wasting his intelligence on weapons, and the fact that he had somehow managed to not only disappoint his father, but also Steve, made him want to drink himself to death.

Tony wasn't going to tell any of that that, though. All he needed to know was that Steve loved him and wanted to be with him. He'd try his hardest to change for him. To be a man that Steve could be proud of. He'd do whatever it takes to keep him loving him.

“I won't." Tony promises. "Same goes for you."

“Never.” Steve promises.

#stony #superhusbands #steve rogers x tony stark #stony au #stony angst #first time #consenting adults #age difference #Godfather Steve #Godson Tony

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