Chapter Two: First Meetings 2

A tow arrived within 10 minutes of Tony's call, much to his relief. He signed all the paperwork to have the Mustang towed back to his garage and more or less threatened if one scratch was made to her cherry red finish, the driver would get up close and personal with the weapons Tony made for a living. Seeing the fear rightly seated behind the other man's eyes, the billionaire turned his attention to his ride.

The young man was sitting behind the wheel of his Chevy Impala – was it '67 or '68? – basically eye-fucking him.

This was not how he expected his night to go.

Pepper had dragged him to some Christmas Charity Ball that he was expected to be at. To be honest, he didn't mind going: not because of the giving to charity (because lets face it, no one in the room actually gave a shit about the less fortunate – they just wanted to show off their status and trophy wives) but rather because he was usually able to pick up some bimbo to sate his needs at these holiday shindigs.

Usually.

He had trained his sights on a blonde bombshell and had put on his usual moves to pick her up. Instead of getting her into his bed, he got her champagne all over his Vivienne Westwood. From that moment, not even Pepper threatening 8AM board meetings could get him to stay at such a farce of a Charity Ball.

He and his Cherry Red were out of there, until even Cherry let him down.

When Tony heard the other car pull up, he was ready to tell them off. He had realized immediately upon inspection of the transmission that Dum-E had given him the wrong transmission fluid when Tony had worked on the Mustang, and not paying attention, the man had used it. However, once he caught sight of the classic muscle car and the young man driving it, especially the posturing the young man was doing, fuck him if Tony didn't play dumb to see what would happen. Tony had been afraid that the other wouldn't know an alternator from a transmission, but to his relief the kid new what he was doing. Both with the car and with Tony.

He couldn't deny that it gave him an ego-boost that a man barely old enough to drink – because damn, he couldn't be more than 22 with such a smooth face and Bambi eyes – was coming on to him. The young man with dirty blonde hair and jade green eyes had the decent muscles of man who worked hard earning a living rather than working out – which Tony was glad for, because Mr. Universe-size muscles always freaked him out – and he was maybe an inch taller than Tony. That was fine by him. Tony liked his men built as such, and this young man was like something out of his wet dreams. Or a porn. Was the kid a porn star or just a natural?

Tony made his way to the Impala with smirk to his lips.

Well, he'd find out soon enough.

Tony opened the door to the passenger seat and slid inside. He faced his new companion. When their eyes locked, there was a moment of stillness as each took the other in, and then in tandem, their lips met. It was a clash of teeth and dominance, and Tony couldn't help but squeeze the young man's thigh. He was like a brick. In response, the man wrapped his arms around Tony's head and stroked and pulled at his hair as he tugged Tony into a deeper kiss, filled with tongue and delicious pressure. In the end, the other man was the first to pull away.

"If we don't stop now, I won't be able to give you any kind of ride," he said, though the stroking he was doing to Tony's hair indicated that he was reluctant in saying it. Tony nodded and pulled out of the man's grasp and laid back in his seat: it was just as well, he was having the same issue.

"So, my place or yours?" Tony asked, glancing over at his companion.

"Well, unless you want to do this at a shitty motel, I'd say yours," the man replied and turned the ignition. He then offered nonchalantly, "I'm Dean by the way. I – I didn't catch your name."

As the car hummed to life, Tony felt a flash of surprise surge through him. How would Dean not know who he was? Was this kid for real or just fucking with him? Tony's face and name was associated with the entire tech his company had to offer, let alone all of his salacious activities documented on the society pages and tabloids. If the kid was indeed fucking with him, he would cut short this little tryst as soon as he got home. Partners intent on fucking with him as opposed to fucking him never turned out well. He didn't need another story of 'My Night with the Merchant of Death' in the National Enquirer: they annoy Obi and Pepper too much.

His silence seemed to shake his companion, though he was hiding it beautifully. The only reason Tony himself could tell was because of his own experience with hiding emotions. And the fact the young man's erection, which had bulged so nicely his tight jeans, has obviously sagged.

"Nah, it's cool if you don't – look I'm not some snot-nosed kid expecting a fairy tale," Dean explained. "I'm just old fashioned about my one night stands. I like to have a name attached to person I'm fucking, OK? It's not like I'm going to expect anything more out of tonight than tonight –"

"I get it, Dean," Tony replied. "My name is Stark, Tony Stark." He inspected Dean's face and saw no flash of recognition, satisfaction, or anything other than relief. So, the kid wasn't fucking with him. Tony decided to just be his blunt self and tell the truth. "I just thought you knew you who I was, and that's why you came on to me and offered me a ride."

"Honestly, I thought your '69 cherry red Mustang was epic, and I wanted to check her out," Dean replied, and glanced over at Tony, giving his body a quick look over, and then met his eyes dead on. "And, that the ass attached the man looking under her hood was hot as hell and not something I would pass up on."

Tony could tell Dean was being honest, and he couldn't help but pull him into another kiss. This one was softer than their first and more full of emotion Tony couldn't put his finger on. The base need that had driven the one before devolved into an underlying hunger and passion. Both still had trouble pulling away from it, but Tony needed to catch his breath.

"So you famous or something?" Dean asked, short of breath as well.

Tony laughed and gave Dean a chaste kiss.

"Oh, honey, you have no idea," Tony replied, sinking back into the leather seat. "We'll go back to mine, and I will show you exactly who Tony Stark is."

Dean smirked in anticipation and took the Impala back onto the highway, Tony giving him directions and distractions along the way.

Malibu here they come.