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Steve was making his way from the quad to a small, stony alcove to escape the sun when he heard someone sniffling. All he could see was a mop of dark brown hair and hunched-over shoulders that shook with each sniff. Steve watched as the person’s hand came up to wipe his face.
He didn’t know the crying student, but he did know what it was like to want to cry in private, so he tried to back away as quietly as possible. His foot hooked on the uneven cobblestone, and Steve tripped into the wall. The sound was loud enough to make the other student’s head whip around, and Steve was face to face with wide, wet eyes. They were the most beautiful brown he had ever seen, even with their red rims. Steve wanted to ask the kid if he was okay, or if there was anything he could do for him, but every word caught in his throat. All they could do was stare at one another.
“Steve!” He heard his name shouted from the quad, but kept his gaze on the sniffling student even as his wide eyes fell over Steve’s shoulder.
“Steve!”
“I think--” Sniff “--Your friend is calling you.”
A heavy, metal arm fell over Steve’s shoulder, and Bucky pulled him into his side. “What going on...oh. Who is this?”
Steve knew that he knew how to speak, but apparently there was some magical element to the alcove that stole all his words and only affected him, because the sniffling student had no problem curling away from them and asking, “What are you two doing here? Come to make fun of me too? Go away!”
“What?” asked Bucky. “We have no idea what--Oh! You’re that genius kid. Professor Hill mentioned you. Brightest kid of his age, and you're...crying?”
The student’s face turned bright red again, and Steve found enough wherewithal to elbow Bucky in the side. Then he took a deep breath and held out his hand. “I’m Steve, this is Bucky. We’re, um, not here to-- We can leave if…”
“Cat got your tongue, Stevie? You only stammer this much when you have a crush.”
“Shut. Up,” Steve said through gritted teeth. The student looked at them, from one to the other and then down at Steve’s hand.
“I’m--” Sniff “--Tony.” His hand was smooth in Steve’s, and Steve had the urge to pull him close with it, into a hug, because maybe that would stop the sniffling.
“Anyone see that Stark kid?!” They all turned towards the quad.
“I think I saw him go through there,” another student answered, and then the sound of footsteps raced down the cobblestone. Three students bumped into Steve and Bucky, pushing them into Tony.
“Get out of the way!” the burly boy at the front of the small gang said.
“Yeah,” his smaller friend agreed. “He ruined the curve on our midterm.”
The burly kid started to palm his fist, looking all too ready to connect that fist with Tony’s face. “Get out of the way Barnes, Rogers.”
He didn’t know what Bucky planned to do, but Steve solidly put himself between the bullies and Tony. “Over my dead body.”
Tony’s hand came up to rest on Steve’s shoulder, maybe to move him out of the way, but Steve brought his hand up to pat Tony’s.
The burly kid grinned. “That can be arranged.”
“It’s all right, Tony. We have your back now,” Steve assured.
Bucky nodded. “And apparently your front too.”
Tony’s hand slid from Steve’s shoulder, and Steve felt the heavy weight of his whole body leaning into him. “It’s okay,” Steve whispered over his shoulder, trying to reassure Tony. “These two were just leaving.” Steve glared until they did as they were told, then he turned back to Tony and before he could take a breath, Steve had his arms full of the teen. He smelled like motor oil and toothpaste, and Steve ran his hands up and down his back. The sniffling had stopped, his face now nuzzled into Steve's neck.
“Thank you,” Tony whispered against Steve’s skin. He pulled back but didn’t leave Steve’s arms, and Steve found that he was perfectly fine with that. “The big one likes to push me on the ground and--" Tony cut himself off, like he didn't want to say anymore, but Steve could see the bruises on his body and he could fill in the rest.
Tony felt right in his arms and neither of them seemed inclined to break the embrace even as Bucky shot him an odd stare. Steve ignored it, and kept his focus on Tony. “You don't have to thank me--us. From now on, no one will bother you.”
Bucky poked at Steve’s shoulder. “We have class in fifteen.”
That made Tony pull away, his cheeks coloring in a way that made Steve want to trace his finger against the skin. “You guys, uh, go.. I’ll be just fine. You don’t have to--”
“We meant what we said. Find us outside the Potter Building after our class ends. One hour.”
Tony blushed again but nodded, and Steve knew it was time to pull away. But Tony’s eyes still looked so wide and scared and a little bit--
“We have to go,” Bucky prompted.
Steve sighed. “You never care about class this much, Buck.”
“And you always care about class much more than this. Come on.”
The hour passed slowly, Steve’s gaze more focused on the window that faced the quad than his Professor. When it finally ended, Steve bolted from his seat and out the door, looking for Tony’s mop of dark brown hair but finding nothing. His stomach dropped, and when Bucky’s arm wrapped around his shoulder, he pushed it away. “Oh, come on, Stevie. You look like someone burned your sketchbook.”
Steve shook his head and walked away.
The next day, he was at the library studying when someone threw a balled up piece of paper at his head. He looked over his shoulder and saw Bucky, dragging Tony in his wake. He dropped the teen into the space next to Steve then plopped down into the seat opposite him. “There,” he said. “Maybe now you’ll stop brooding.”
“I was not--” He cut himself off, turning towards Tony, knowing his cheeks were flushed hot with embarrassment. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Tony leaned close, pulling nonexistent lint from the arm of Steve’s sweater. “I didn’t think you were serious about me meeting you after class.”
Bucky snorted. “He’s always serious.”
“Am not,” Steve disagreed.
“You are when it comes to protecting people,” he pointed out.
Tony was in the middle of pulling out his textbook, and he froze, book hovering over the long, wooden table. “You don’t have to--”
“Ignore Bucky,” Steve grumbled. “We want to protect you.”
Tony’s mouth flickered into a small smile, and he leaned into Steve again, tracing his hand with his index finger. “I’m not going to talk you out of it, I obviously need it.”
As if on cue a student walked by and hit the back of Tony’s head. “Way to blow that curve, Stark.”
“Hey!” Steve and Bucky were both out of their seats in the instant. The librarian across the room shushed them immediately.
“She doesn’t care about physical violence, but loud noises and the world is ending,” Bucky hissed across the table.
It took Steve longer to sit down, memorizing the student that hit Tony, his neanderthal-like brow and slimy smile. It wasn’t until Tony tugged at his sleeve that he sat back down. Tony wiggled his head until he was under Steve’s arm, leaning into Steve’s side. Steve’s breath cut short, Tony was so close to him, so easily affectionate, and Steve didn’t know what to do with that, just let his warmth seep into him and warm his chest.
“Oh my god, look at your face Stevie. It’s like you’ve never been touched before.”
He felt Tony freeze. “Is this...uncomfortable?”
“No, no, not at all. I…”
Bucky burst out laughing. “Don’t strain yourself, Rogers.”
“Shut up, Bucky.”
They spent the rest of the afternoon studying and made plans to meet the following day. Steve wasn’t sure if Tony would show up, but he did. He met them at the mess hall, just like they’d arranged.
Steve was already waiting there when Tony’s hand appeared around him from behind, and he knew Tony was affectionate but this seemed more calculated. When Steve turned around, he saw that Tony had a new bruise on his cheek. “Who?” he asked, jaw ticking with barely suppressed rage.
Tony didn’t back away from Steve. He turned so he was nestled in between Steve’s arms, and Steve watched as his pupils darkened. “It doesn’t matter,” Tony said breathlessly. “What are you going to do if I do tell you?”
Steve’s eyes followed Tony’s lips as they formed the words. He was always so close, smelled so good, touched Steve without a care, without any restraint. Steve remembered Tony crying in the alcove, traced the new bruise across his cheekbone. “I said I’d take care of you--of it.”
Tony opened his mouth, then closed it again.
A kick hit his shin from under the table, and it was enough to pull his gaze from Tony’s mouth. “Dammit, Stevie, either kiss him or ask him out already, because this is enough to put me off my breakfast!”
“Wha-- What!” Steve sputtered, swinging his gaze back to Tony. “I--”
“I...wouldn’t mind,” Tony whispered. “To either of those options. I mean, you make a wonderful bodyguard, but, well, if you wanted…you’d probably make an even better... boyfriend?”
Tony felt so good in his arms, and Steve imagined all the simple touches disappearing, of someone else stepping in and taking Tony under his wing. “I want,” Steve said.
“Good.”
A bread roll flew across the mess hall and hit Tony square in the back, but neither of them moved. “Good,” Steve agreed, then he took a deep breath and leaned over to press his lips against Tony. It was a chaste kiss, but it warmed him from the inside out. He felt Tony gasp against his lips, and Steve took the opportunity to taste Tony for the first time. Tony surged forward, deepening the kiss, and Steve had to pull away or else he’d pull Tony into his lap and turn what was a chaste kiss into something much filthier. When they parted, Tony’s eyes were still closed, and Steve took a moment to admire how beautiful he was.
Then he pushed up from his seat and found the person who was stupid enough to hit his boyfriend.