Disclaimer: Oops, I forgot this one in the first chapter. Whatever. I do not own the characters that are mentioned in this story, unless they are names you don't recognize. Such as teacher names and such. Otherwise, Marvel owns every single thing. Aside from the story-line itself, which is my idea.

A/N: Please, don't forget to leave a review. It would make my day.

I guess, this is sort of the beginning of the story. Tony and I's story, I meant. When we first met, we were both in college. Why the hell not. Let's start there.

It was sometime at the end of November of my freshman year. A mechanical engineering and flight combat major, who detested school and the school's campus more than everything else in the world. M.I.T was never a college that went on my list of choices. Far from it. Mainly because of the taxes that my family should have paid only to have me go in.

I'm from Philadelphia, and I'm the youngest son from a four children family. I have to older brothers and one sister. My father died when I was around five years old, which meant that I was left in the care of my freshly widowed Mother. I guess you can already imagine how hard it was for her to maintain four children by her own. I could have never afforded to go in to a college, much less to M.I.T if I hadn't studied. But I did.

But, I suppose, I should get back to the point now.

As I mentioned previously, I detested school. Not because of the masses of homework, but because of the students that went there. Most of them, were children of famous, or at least, rich families; who spent their whole lives in luxury, and who'd be able to scream out loud if they scrapped their finger. I wasn't one of them. I knew what work meant ever since I was sixteen. I didn't had a nanny as a child, nor did I travel all around the world, not even the country. I was just a normal, Philadelphia guy.

But, being poor wasn't my only issue. I was black, too. And, given the fact that I went to college in the early 80's, the black people weren't the whites favorites. Much less if they were poor, too. So, I had two contras from the very beginning, and I lacked any pro.

That was until I met the college's prodigy.

I had just moved in the college's campus, and of course, I had a roommate. His name was Freddie, and he was one of the few students that didn't glare at me on the corridors, nor in the room we shared, only because I was black and poor. He soon became my only friend there, but after a couple of weeks, he was diagnosed with Alzheimer, and he couldn't continue his studies any longer. Which meant, that he had to leave the campus, too. Much to my displeasure.

Freddie was my only friend there. The only one who didn't judge me because of my skin color, and obviously, I was sad that he had to leave, and that he was sick, of course.

A couple of days after his leave, I was informed that I will have a new roommate. Again, much to my displeasure. I didn't want a new roommate, I was just fine on my own. The last thing I needed nor wanted, was to be bullied inside the room where I lived. Of course, I was already planning to pack my stuff and find a job in the neighborhood, where I could work, so I'd have enough money to rent a flat for myself. That would have probably been the easiest way, anyway.

The day when my roommate was supposed to move in I was exempted from the daily classes, so I could have some bond time with my new roommate. I can still remember that I was huffing and, literally, fuming the whole day. Bonding time? Who were they kidding? There won't be anyone who'd want to have a black guy in his group of friends. The only 'bonding' that could result that day would be a trip to the infirmary; resulting with my new roommate having a black eye.

But, those where my thoughts before I met my new roommate.

It was a couple of minutes after twelve, the lunch time, when a stack of book opened the door. No, I'm not kidding. My first reaction when the door opened was to say that a stack of books is walking. Walking. Now, that was weird.

Being the educated guy I was, I immediately shot up from my own bed and went to help the 'walking stack of books', as I called the person behind the science books. As soon as I removed the books from the other guy's hands, I, literally, gaped at the sight.

The fourteen years old boy in front of me had almost round, and obviously big, chocolate-colored eyes. He was one of the few boys that were blessed with an almost perfect skin even as a teenager. He wore black-rimmed reading glasses, and strangely, I found that cute. Probably, because they were nearly falling off his nose due to the fact that, most likely, he rested his chin on the stack of books until he reached the right room.

His hair was dark brown, and if the room was dim lighted, I could have sworn that it was jet black. A couple of rebel curls of wavy hair hang over his forehead, and I noticed how he tried to push them back by puffing in their direction. That only added to the cute effect he had on me. No, don't get me wrong. I was, and I am, a straight guy one hundred percent, but the child in front of me stirred something inside of my chest that I couldn't explain.

Perhaps, because I have heard who he is, and how young he got into college. That was unnatural. In a way, I envied the child, because he'd finish college faster than me. Well, not faster, but at a more frail age. On the other side, I could only imagine how hard it was for him to get through school that fast. And that was quite visible.

I wasn't born yesterday, I could see the sadness behind these chocolate-colored eyes of his. A type of sadness that I didn't feel myself, and I had a lot of things to worry about. I caught his scoff, and I can recall that I blinked a couple of times – feeling more than shocked and surprised. But the shock that overtook me once he opened his mouth couldn't be described.

"Could you please stop staring at me? It's not that I'm from Mars, or anything. Nor am I going to eat you."

I'm grinning now, because I remember how he shocked me twice in less than five minutes. Back then, I was surprised – unable to form a full sentence, due to the fact that someone managed to shock me twice, in such a short time. Now, I can only grin, because I know that it was the first, but not the last, time when I was shocked by Tony Stark.