Title: I'll just have to forget the hurt that came before.
Pairing: Steve/Tony
Rating: M for sex and language
Summary: Basically a highschool!AU that involves a musical based on the songs of Smash.
Notes: I don't own the songs or the plotline of the play - that's all from Smash. I'm not sure where this came from, but I kind of like it, and I hope it's okay! Title is also from Let Me Be Your Star from Smash.

It was the beginning of senior year when Tony Stark decided that the best course of action to alleviate his boredom on a Friday night was to get drunk and crash his car into the side of James Buchanan High School. Or at least, that's what he told everyone. Because no one needed to know that it was actually because his dad had shrugged him off one too many times and if this is what it took to get his attention, then this is what he would do.

Except the only attention he got from Howard was a lecture about not embarrassing him and why couldn't he just behave? And then he paid for the damage to the school to ensure that Tony wouldn't be expelled from yet another school. After the whole thing, Tony just hates himself slightly more -especially when he's called into Principal Fury's office first thing on Monday morning.

'You wanted to see me?'

'Stark. Take a seat.' He does as ordered, sitting on the opposite side of the desk. Fury stands, facing away from Tony and looking out over the parking lot. 'The problem is, Stark, that while we may not be able to exclude you because of your father's influence, we can't have the rest of the school body knowing that we can be bribed.'

'Oh, because everyone knows you're such an upstanding establishment.' Tony knows that digging this hole is not the right path to take, but he's still so fucking angry at his dad. He's silenced by Fury's stern look, and there is something not right about a high school principal who only has one eye and wears long, leather coats and it just generally terrifying. 'So, detention for the rest of my life?'

'No. The drama club are working towards putting a play on at the end of the year, and they're going to need help.'

'Oh no. No acting, no singing, no theatre.'

'No, I wouldn't ask you to threaten your reputation. You'll just be helping with the heavy lifting, the backstage things.'

'I don't play well with others.'

'You don't actually have a choice here.'

Tony nods, biting his tongue. He knows that there is no point in arguing, and he might as well just accept that this is going to happen. It could be worse.

'Hey, I'm here-' Tony says, entering the auditorium after school for the first meeting of the drama club.

'I know why you're here. Because you decided to destroy the school, and Fury seems to think that helping us is a punishment.' The red-head he's talking to -Virginia? He's like 90% sure that's her name -is clearly pissed off with this arrangement, but it's not like he ever had any say in it.

'Look, I don't want to be here anymore than you want me to be here. So just tell me what to do.'

She gives him a dirty look before relenting. 'Just sit over there and don't say anything.' Tony follows where she's pointing and settles down. The next hour or so of his life is dedicated to watching people audition for this play -that hasn't actually been written yet apparently. Some of them aren't actually that bad, but there are others that are just terrible. His attention is caught by a red-head who sings a damn good version of Crazy Dreams (according to the list that someone gave him -he doesn't listen to Carrie Underwood much).

After the last auditionee finishes their godawful rendition of Over The Rainbow, Virginia waves him over and actually asks his opinion. He tells her that he liked Natasha most, and that he didn't think any of the guys were that good. And then he explains that he can't really give a decent opinion, considering that he doesn't actually know what the play is about. Virginia nods, before telling him that he can go.

Before he leaves, he feels a hand on his arm. 'Call me Pepper. And be back here, same time tomorrow? Can you bring like, tools or something please? I think there are things that need fixing.' He nods before exiting stage left. He wonders how being signed up for heavy lifting ended up with him just watching auditions, but he figures that it's better than a lifetime of detentions.

The next meeting is just watching the tapes of the auditions again, and Pepper actually explains what the play is about.

'It's not finished, but it's about Marilyn Monroe -we're mainly focusing on the DiMaggio years, with everything else being told in sketch form. I'm writing the script and Bruce is writing the songs.' Pepper motions to a guy sat at the end of the table and Tony nods at him.

'Woah. Sounds… complicated?'

Pepper smiles. 'It's not really; we just need to find the right people for the parts. We're thinking Natasha for Marilyn, but none of the guys seem to fit DiMaggio. We're going to have to call all the guys back, I think.'

'Is there anything you want me to do?' He asks, out of his depth with the whole casting thing.

'Um… you're good with engineering things right? Can you go look at the lights please? I'm pretty sure they're broken.' Pepper says without looking up, and Tony shrugs, before agreeing and heading through the side door to the backstage area.

Pepper was right -the lights are pretty fucked up, and Tony sets about replacing wires and generally fixing them, using the tools that Pepper had advised he bring in. He's listening to his iPod at the same time in an attempt to drown out the sounds of the terrible audition tapes and focus on the job. About half an hour later, he's not only finished fixing the lights, he's improved them a hell of a lot, and he turns around to see everyone else staring at him.

'Uh- yes?'

'You can sing!' Pepper is practically vibrating with excitement and even Bruce has the hints of a smile on his face.

'Oh, sorry-' Damn his uncontrollable habit of singing along with anything he hears ever.

'No, no! Can you dance?'

'Wait, what?'

'Never mind, you can probably learn. We could-'

'No, hang on. What are you talking about?'

'You're our DiMaggio!'

And damn his beautifully sensational voice. He'd always known being that good at everything was going to get him in trouble one day.

'I don't want to be your DiMaggio.' Tony says, gathering his things and heading down the stairs in the middle, towards the desk that Pepper and Bruce are still poring over.

'Oh, please? You'll be perfect!' Pepper grabs his hand and legitimately looks about ready to beg him to say yes.

'Nope. I agreed to do the grunt work. Not sing and prance and-'

'You'd be good though. Your voice is just right for him.'

'That's wonderful, but no.'

'Tony, please? We need you! I-I'll do anything! This show isn't going anywhere without the right-'

'If I agree, will you stop begging?' Pepper nods. 'Okay, fine, I'll do it.'

'You will?' Pepper squeals, and she actually hugs Tony.

'Problem number one: can you even act?' This comes from a shorter guy, with spiky light brown hair.

'Clint's the director,' Pepper explains. 'But he has a point. Can you act?'

'I don't know?' Pepper frowns, handing him a page of the script.

'Just read that.' And Tony does. Apparently, he's pretty good (and he'll never admit that he's been watching and pretending to be in movies ever since he was old enough to realise that he was pretty much on his own).

That night, Tony refuses to admit to himself that he's actually pretty excited about this whole thing, and he reads up everything he can on DiMaggio. He's never done anything like this before, and he should probably be more worried about the fact that he's ruining his rich-cool-guy image by being in a play that he's actually going to have to sing and dance in, but now he's thinking that this might be the push his dad needs to pay attention to him.

Ever since his mother died when Tony was 12, Howard has been distant and focussed completely on his work, when Tony really needed him to go the opposite way. He acts like he doesn't care, that he likes the fact his dad doesn't give him the time of day, but he does kind of wish that he would maybe act like he was proud of him.

By Thursday, the cast list is up, and it's official. Natasha is the Marilyn to his DiMaggio. They meet properly for the first time that lunch, and Tony finds that he likes her. She isn't the over the top theatre obsessive he'd been expecting -she's actually pretty terrifying in a cool, calm sort of way. But she's a damn good singer and an even better actress and Tony is starting to be happy that he's involved in this.

And then he meets the set designer. Steve Rogers is tall, muscular and Tony is pretty sure he hasn't always been so fucking attractive. They've been in at least one class together every year since junior high, and before the summer, Steve was tiny; but then he started working out and now Tony just kind of wants to climb that like a tree.

Tony's known for his escapades with nearly every cheerleader and every other girl that runs in the same circles, but his runs with guys are rather more secretive. Tony doesn't like to identify his sexuality, but the truth is that he doesn't care what gender someone is, just as long as they're ready for a good time.

'Hey…' Tony greets him in his best pick-up tone, and Steve shifts to peer at Tony over the backdrop he's drawing.

'Hi.' Steve smiles, like really widely, and his eyes crinkle and those blue eyes are just wonderful.

'So, you're an artist?' He asks, trailing his fingers across the top of the board Steve is working on.

'Um… yeah?' Tony smiles, and walks around to look at the New York skyline he's transferring onto the massive bit of plywood.

'Woah. That's pretty good.' Tony's good at this, this charming people thing, and he bumps Steve's shoulder with his own and gives him his best enticing smile. A light blush creeps up the back of his neck, and Tony feels proud of himself.

'Thanks.'

'So… Steve? You busy tonight?' Steve looks surprised, and he shakes his head. 'Fancy getting a drink, then?'

Steve shakes his head again. 'I couldn't-'

'Oh, you're straight, huh?'

'No, it's not that. I- I just can't.' Tony frowns and Steve carries on drawing. Well then, if that isn't a challenge, Tony doesn't know what is.

Nothing actually happens until about two months later. It's not for lack of trying, but this whole musical thing really is time consuming, and between learning the lines, songs and dance moves and trying to actually keep on top of his work for once, he hardly has time to visit his workshop, let alone chase Steve anywhere.

Everybody's seriously stressed and Tony wonders what the hell the world is going to be like the day before the actual show, but they have months before that. He also wonders if everyone is going to burn out before them, and then he makes the executive decision that they should all party. His dad's out on a business trip for the next week or so, so he rounds up everyone who's working on the musical and herds them all to his place and supplies them with copious amounts of alcohol.

Everyone loosens up fairly quickly, and it's only then that Tony realises how many people are actually working on this thing. Tony finds Steve leaning against the counter in the kitchen, nursing a beer. At this point, Tony's had one too many shots and his head is a little fuzzy and Steve looks like he's fucking glowing, so he marches up to him, takes his drink and downs it, before leaning in and kissing him, fast and hard.

He pulls away soon enough, and Steve's eyes are wide, pupils slightly diluted, and he clenches his hands in Tony's shirt and pulls him in to join their lips again. Steve tastes like beer and rainbows, but that last part may just be the vodka talking, and Tony guides Steve to his room, dragging him up the stairs and nearly falling over Janet and Hank who are all over each other at the top. Tony turns away when they reach his room to lock the door behind them, and there are lips attached to his neck, strong, calloused, artistic hands sliding under his shirt and tracing the lines of his abs and Tony melts back into the strong chest, tipping his head back to allow for better access.

Tony grinds backwards, groaning when he feels Steve's rapidly hardening cock against his ass. Steve bites lightly at his neck and well, this is happening faster than Tony had anticipated. Tony leans his forearms against the hard wood of the door and rolls his hips again, delighting in Steve's stuttered breath.

'Eager, are we?' Steve asks, and his voice is deep and gruff and the sound goes straight to Tony's dick and he whimpers slightly. Steve leans down, covering Tony's back with his chest, and starts biting at his neck again. Tony reaches behind him, lacing his hand through Steve's golden locks as he arches into him. Steve trails a hand down his chest, before slipping it under his shirt and back up to play with a nipple and Tony moans again, not even caring who hears them. Steve pulls him back into a standing position before dragging him backwards and practically fucking throwing him onto the bed and jesus Tony didn't know being manhandled like that could be so hot. Steve climbs on top of him and Tony reaches up to pull Steve's shirt off, not caring if he rips any of the buttons.

'That has to be photoshopped.' He mutters, running his hands along the defined lines of Steve's chest. A blush starts creeping up Steve's neck and Tony pulls him down to follow it with his tongue. Steve shudders against him and tears Tony's t-shirt over his head and Tony really likes this whole rough side to Steve. Tony reaches down to fumble with the button on Steve's jeans, while Steve busies himself with Tony's belt. Both sets of jeans are gone soon enough, and Steve's kissing down Tony's chest to mouth wetly at Tony's erection through his boxers. Tony groans and threads his fingers through Steve's hair again, arching into the warmth of his mouth when Steve does away with his boxers and starts swallowing Tony's length into his mouth. He gently sucks, and grazes his teeth over the head, digging his tongue into the slit and Tony's falling victim to all this sensation, feeling the heat building up. He tugs Steve off and Steve cocks his head to the side and smirks, just slightly, and that, with the swollen lips and the downright debauched look, has Tony stuttering over his next words.

'In me. Oh, god. Now.' He demands, twisting to dig in a drawer for a condom and the lube. He throws them in the general direction of Steve.

Steve chuckles, coating his fingers and circling Tony's entrance with one digit, he leans down and as he slips the finger in he whispers in Tony's ear. 'I hope you're not this willing for everybody.' Tony gasps, biting down on his lower lip, eyes fluttering closed. Steve bends his head, claiming Tony's mouth as he slips the second finger inside. Tony's trying to force himself to relax against the intrusion, as Steve keeps thrusting, and then there oh god there, and Tony's seeing stars and he doesn't even notice when Steve uses a third finger and then Tony is ready, he's so ready and he's whispering a mantra of 'now oh god Steve now' against Steve's mouth.

Steve pulls his fingers out, rolling on the condom and then covering his length with the lube before reaching forward again, kissing Tony as he slowly thrusts forward. His arms are shaking where he's supporting his weight either side of Tony's head, and Tony just knows that he's forcing himself to go slowly, so Tony turns his head, peppering Steve's arm with butterfly kisses and following the veins with his tongue. When Steve's full seated, the ache is a little too much and Tony bites lightly at the veins as he tries to get used to the intrusion – he may be fine with sleeping with guys, but he doesn't bottom often. He rolls his hips experimentally, and gives Steve the go ahead. Steve starts slowly, barely moving at all, and Tony gets impatient and bites at Steve's lips.

'Come on, you can go faster than that-' He challenges, his voice trailing off at the end at the look on Steve's face – he takes that as a challenge, and he hoists Tony's legs around his waist, Tony locking his ankles at the small of Steve's back. He starts thrusting, hard and fast and hitting his prostate dead on with each thrust, and Tony is forcing himself back down, meeting each of Steve's thrusts with as much force as he can, and he tips his head back – Steve taking this opportunity to bite Tony's neck hard – hard enough to leave a mark and Tony's vision is starting to white out.

'Come for me, Tony.' And Tony does, Steve's completely wrecked voice chasing him over the edge as comes over his stomach, clenching around Steve. Steve follows him not long after, with a muffled shout into Tony's neck, thrusting through his orgasm.

They pause for a while, trying to get their breath back, before Steve pulls out and disposes of the condom. He sits on the edge of Tony's bed, before reaching for his jeans and starting to get dressed. Tony does the same thing on the opposite side of the bed, throwing Steve his shirt when he finds it.

'We should do that again.' Tony says once they're both dressed, crawling across the bed to wrap his arms around Steve's neck and nibble lightly at his ear.

'I'm- I'm not looking for a relationship right now.' Steve stutters out, and Tony laughs gently.

'This doesn't have to be serious. But I've found I rather like having sex with you.' And there's that blush again, and Tony kisses it before pulling away and standing, wincing at the twinge at the base of his spine. He walks around to the head of his bed, grabbing his pack of cigarettes and a lighter, offering one to Steve (who just looks horrified at the very thought), before lighting one up for himself. He takes a long drag, letting the smoke fill his lungs and then he exhales.

'See you tomorrow, then.' Steve says, standing and heading for the door.

'Sure will.' He winks when Steve turns back, and then he's gone -out the door and down the stairs and Tony watches him as he walks down the drive and he watches him until he can't see him anymore and one of the ensemble -Wanda, he thinks her name is -is telling him that someone smashed something.

Three days later and Tony is seriously thinking about how the party was a very, very bad idea. It was good in that he got laid, but apparently a whole lot of other shit went down. Everybody discovered that apparently Natasha and Clint are sleeping together and now Peggy and Wanda and Janet are very angry and claiming that she only got the part because she's fucking the director. And apparently Pepper and Peggy kissed and now Pepper's boyfriend Happy is all angry and other things happened and they all blame Tony.

Well, they haven't said it out loud, but he can tell when people blame him for things. He apologises profusely and defends Natasha because she's the scariest and the one most likely to kill him in his sleep. Initially, he doesn't talk to Steve because they're both busy and never alone together, but one day he's hiding from the ensemble horde in the baseball dugout with a cigarette dangling from his lips when Steve rounds the corner.

Steve freezes for a moment and looks like he's about to flee, but Tony simply shuffles up and smiles at him when he takes a seat next to him, throwing his bag into a corner.

'You hiding from the witches too?' Tony asks, cocking his head to the side, and Steve bites his lip, trying not to laugh, but he nods anyway.

'That'll kill you, y'know.' Steve motions towards Tony's still burning cigarette, and Tony takes a long drag, tipping his head back to exhale at the ceiling. He closes his eyes.

'At least I'll be the only one at fault for my death.' He laughs, but it sounds hollow. He opens his eyes to look at Steve through his eyelashes, and he looks confused and like he's about to say something. Tony waves him off.

'So, about what happened at your-'

'I was serious about the just sex thing, you know.' Steve nods.

'I think that'd be good. I could do with a stress reliever.' Tony raises one eyebrow at that, and they laugh simultaneously.

'You stressed now?' Tony asks, flicking his cigarette away and sliding into Steve's side.

'Tony, we're-'

'Blocked from view by a wonderful concrete bunker? Yeah, we are.' He swings round to straddle Steve's legs and attacks his neck, not giving Steve time to reject him. Steve ducks his head to join their lips, and this is just as rushed as the first time, all messy and needy. Tony slides down to his knees, freeing Steve from his pants and going down on him, sucking and licking and thanking god for his lack of a gag reflex and when Steve comes he swallows it all and wipes his mouth after with a downright sinful gesture that has Steve looking at him with a hunger. Steve pulls Tony up onto his lap and jerks him off fast and hard and Tony whimpers into the side of Steve's head as he comes.

Tony climbs off of Steve lethargically, and Steve reaches for his bag, shoving several tissues at Tony. They both clean up and make sure the other one looks presentable before heading their separate ways to their next classes. Tony could get used to this casual thing.

It's not so bad -being on Natasha's good side, because she's the only one he really has to work with on stage. The only bad thing is the way Clint looks at him when they perform History Is Made At Night, which involves them clambering all over each other and declaring that 'someday they'll write lots of books about our fame and glory/but if all their reports are just movies and sports/they'll be missing the whole story'. It is actually one of Tony's favourite songs, and he's not shy about telling Bruce that; it makes him blush adorably.

But yeah, back to the Clint problem. As far as Tony understands, him and Natasha have been on the rocks since the night of the party -apparently they'd really wanted to keep it secret and it was Clint who'd said something to Pietro and their affair had quickly become common knowledge. Natasha isn't happy with him, and Clint clearly hates the fact that Natasha isn't talking to him, but has her hands all over Tony. Even if Tony isn't into Natasha like that.

So, Tony does what he does best -he confronts Clint. After rehearsals one day, he chases Clint to the parking lot before he can get him to stop.

'Hey, Clint!' He pauses and turns around, and his eyes flash with something (anger?) before carrying on. 'Clint!' He sighs, but he does stop, turning to face Tony, tapping his foot.

'Yes?' He demands.

'Okay, so, I'm sort of in this thing with somebody.' Clint raises an eyebrow, but he doesn't say anything.

'And?'

'And so, I'm not interested in Natasha, so can you please stop hating me?' Clint sighs, running his hand through his hair.

'I don't hate you Tony. I just- I miss her.' And he sighs, sounding so broken in that moment that Tony kind of wants to hug him, but instead he swings his arm around the smaller man's shoulders and leads him to his car with the promise of alcohol.

Two hours later, they're collapsed on the floor of Tony's room, sharing a bottle of his dad's scotch and a cigarette.

'I think I love her, you know.' And Tony just nods. 'What-' Clint hiccups. 'What about your person?'

'It's just sex.' He answers.

'But you like them, don't you?' Clint asks, tipping his head towards Tony.

'Him. And I don't know. He's really pretty. And funny. And he's sweet.'

'So… he's Steve Rogers, right?' Tony sighs.

'Yeah.' Tony is far too drunk to lie or even think about how Clint guessed that so quickly. 'I don't know… how I feel about him. The sex is incredible though.'

'You like him!' Clint sings, and Tony hits him, before they start laughing and Tony steals the bottle from Clint's hand.

'Can you-'

'Not tell anyone? Sure.'

Clint is fine with him after that, and they actually become pretty good friends. And maybe pretty good friends means that they get drunk together occasionally and bitch and moan about everybody, but this is the closest thing Tony's ever had to friendship and he isn't about to look that gift horse in the mouth. Everything settles down pretty quickly, and Tony suggests another party, and this one does perfectly well in that it fixes all the problems that the first one caused.

It's much the same setting as the first one -people littered around the various rooms of his house with the mysterious red cups that Tony never remembers buying but always seem to be around whenever he throws a party.

Janet, Peggy and Wanda are all giving Natasha dirty looks from across the room, but she's getting as good as she gets, and snarling at Clint at the same time. Her ability to multitask astounds Tony, it really does. Tony is just about to march in there and yell at everybody when Clint stands (he nearly topples over, but he manages to hold his ground).

'Okay. I get it. I shouldn't be sleeping with her.' He slurs. 'But I love her, okay? I love you, babe.' He stumbles towards Natasha, wrapping his arms around her and placing a sloppy kiss on her cheek. Not even Natasha can resist that, and he sees the light pink that's suddenly dusting her cheeks and she shoves Clint away from her. Unfortunately, Clint can't stay stable against that and he falls to the ground, dragging her with him. Everybody laughs at them, even the girls.

'I didn't know it was love.' Janet gushes, ever the romantic. 'I'm sorry!' She squeals before scurrying off to find Hank and probably tell him that she loves him too. Janet always has to be in league with everybody else, even if that means making declarations she probably isn't ready to make. Tony's sure as hell that Hank isn't there yet -they've only been dating for three months and Hank is still trying to learn to deal with Janet's over the top personality.

Peggy just laughs, shakes her head and apologises. Wanda still looks angry, but her features soften a little, and she nods. Wanda marches off to find more alcohol, and Peggy looks relieved, sidling up to Pietro and giving him this seductive smile. Peggy's liked Pietro for years, but they've never been in the same room with enough alcohol to lower her inhibitions before, and it looks like she's just about ready to confront him.

Pepper and Happy seem to be fine, curled in an armchair and looking at each other all lovey-dovey, and Tony feels satisfied that all the wrongs have been righted, so he goes to find Steve (and no one is allowed to comment on the fact that seeing couples in love makes him automatically go and hunt down Steve). And they have sex again. And it's just as awesome as the first time, and Tony can seriously, seriously get used to this.

They never go to Steve's house. That's a rule he makes pretty early on, but Tony doesn't want to push it, so he just lets it be. His dad is never home anyway and Tony's more comfortable on home ground. It also means that he isn't the one that has to sneak out afterwards and that's always a plus. Tony, without fail, feels a twinge whenever he has to watch Steve leave, but it's better this way, because they don't want anything more serious than this.

Steve calls him late one night (well, technically early one morning) and he sounds upset. So, Tony invites him around and greets him at the door. He looks sad, his eyes wet with tears. Tony drags him inside and they set up camp in front of Tony's massive TV. They eat popcorn, drink beer and watch whatever movies they can find (and that includes Gentlemen Prefer Blondes but neither of them are going to admit that they watched a Marilyn Monroe movie.)

That night/morning, they don't sleep. They stay up and they don't even talk that much. They just enjoy each other's company and Tony thinks that that is just what Steve needs – someone next to him. He doesn't know why Steve was upset and he doesn't press it further than Steve muttering something about his dad being a judgmental bastard.

They kiss a couple of times, just pecks to the forehead or cheeks, and there's nothing romantic about it, or at least that's what Tony tells himself. It's just one friend comforting another friend. And no one can blame Tony for that, because he has the excuse that he's never had real friends before and how was he supposed to know that this isn't how friends behave? Steve doesn't question it though, melting further into Tony as the hours pass.

Tony feels himself falling further with every brush of hands and every little smile. He has to keep reminding himself that this isn't actually a date and he catches himself more than once reaching for Steve's hand or turning to curl into his side. It actually kind of hurts that he can be so close to Steve but he can't show how he feels. But this is just sex, and that's all it will ever be because Tony doesn't fall in love and Steve doesn't want him like that.

Just a couple of days later, Tony is once again enduring another lecture about how he's such a fuck up and a let-down, but this time Howard goes just a little further.

'I wish you'd died instead of her. She was a better person than you'll ever be.'

Now, Tony prides himself on the amount of shit that he can handle, but even he cannot stand by as his dad tells him that he wishes he was dead and Tony breaks, just a little, because Howard isn't the only one that wishes that Maria had survived and Tony had died in that car crash because every single day, Tony feels guilty that he's still breathing. Although he stops breathing at that moment, and he leaves. He just walks away, ignoring Howard's angry calls telling him to 'get the fuck back here'.

He's just driving around town, because he doesn't feel like drinking -he doesn't want the numbness or the forgetting that comes with getting drunk. He wants this pain because he knows, deep down, that he deserves it. He comes across a lone figure wandering down the street and Tony knows that leather jacket and that gait.

'Steve?' And he looks up, blue eyes curious.

'Tony?'

'So… how much for the night?' Tony asks, laughing when Steve's face changes to look scandalised. 'Can I give you a lift somewhere?'

'Um… I was just walking.'

'And I was just driving. C'mere.' He reaches over to open the passenger door, ignoring the fuzzy feeling in his stomach when Steve scurries to climb in. 'I'll drive, you point.'

They end up past the outskirts of the town, down empty back roads and dusty motorways. Steve tells him little stories about places they pass. Where he fell off his bike, where he first kissed a girl. And Tony reciprocates. Where he passed out from the alcohol, where his first fight had been. They pull into a secluded area a few miles outside of town. They sit in silence for a while, Tony thinking and Steve staring at the stars. Tony reaches across the central console, grabbing Steve's jaw and peppering it with kisses, following the chiselled line until he meets Steve's lips and he wastes no time in deepening the kiss, pushing Steve against the door.

Steve pulls away. 'This is going to be awkward and uncomfortable, isn't it?' Something in his eyes says that he doesn't care that this is going to cause more aches than normal, because he knows that Tony needs this, although he doesn't know why. And Tony can fool himself into thinking that Steve needs this just as much as he does.

'Most likely.' Tony turns away and gets out of the car; stretching and smirking when he hears the other door open and Steve get out. They meet in front of the car, and Tony slides onto the bonnet, locking his ankles behind Steve's back to pull him in and using the collar of his shirt to mash their lips together again. They make short work of their clothes and soon enough Steve is attacking Tony's neck again and Tony swear this guy must be a fucking vampire with the amount of devotion he gives his neck.

'Um- have you got anything?' Steve asks, pulling away.

'Only- Only a condom. In the glove box.' Steve awkwardly walks around the car to lean in through the open window to grab it, and Tony has to stifle a laugh at the sight.

'How do we do this then?'

'Use spit or something. Please Steve.' And if Tony can hear the way his voice breaks on those last two words, then he knows that Steve can hear that as well and Steve doesn't push it, just spits in his palm and starts circling his finger around Tony's entrance, after spreading the saliva on his fingers.

'You sure?'

'Yes.' Tony hisses as the finger pushes in, Steve goes slowly, knowing that this has to be uncomfortable, but Tony doesn't care, because he needs to feel something. And it does hurt. It hurts way more than any time he's done this before. And it's sadistic and probably masochistic but he needs this, he needs to feel something, anything. He needs to feel alive, needs to feel wanted.

All too soon, Steve is rolling on the condom and pushing forward slowly. And fuck it feels like he's being torn in half and he's biting his bottom lip and he can taste blood, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. Steve leans forward, covering his face in light kisses. Steve hands the control over to Tony at that point, and Tony slowly pulls him in more with his legs, ignoring the pain and forcing himself to relax and he's incredibly grateful that he and Steve have been pretty damn active so it doesn't hurt as much as it could.

As soon as Steve's fully inside, Tony nods, urging him to just move. Steve does, slowly at first, until he angles his thrusts just so, hitting that bundle of nerves that makes Tony see stars, and Tony begs him to go faster and Steve does, snapping his hips as rapidly as he can, reaching between them to tease Tony's cock and soon enough he's arching up against Steve's chest, digging his nails into Steve's back and latching his teeth on the junction where his shoulders meet his neck.

Steve follows soon after, and he pulls out, leaning next to Tony against the bonnet as they catch their breath. They gather all their clothes and dress, but neither of them wants to drive back, so Steve climbs into the back seat, gesturing for Tony to follow him. Tony crawls on top of the larger man, curling into his chest as Steve lays his jacket over them both. And Steve doesn't mention the growing wet patch on his shirt, he just holds Tony a little closer.

That incident doesn't really change anything though. If anything, Steve seems to get more distant -it's almost as if the fact that Tony showed him that little bit of weakness makes him want the other man less. And that hurts, but he can be okay with that. Because he went into this knowing that Steve didn't want anything more. And Tony can totally live with that.