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Chapter Text

            In the back of a taxi cab heading to Rhodey’s apartment, Tony was all wandering hands and whispery giggles. He kept pressing his mouth against Rhodey’s neck, dragging teeth along his jaw while Rhodey fought the heat pooling in his face and in his lap, taking hold of Tony’s hands and interlacing their fingers together before Tony’s grabby hands could slip underneath clothes, or travel too far south. He was drunk, but then again, they were both drunk, and it wasn’t the black-out won’t-remember-any-of-this-tomorrow drunk of freshman year – it was the happy buzz, a beer and a few shots in that loosened Rhodey up, allowed him to permit Tony to dance up against him, taking Rhodey’s hands and wrapping them around his body. Tony had leaned back, kissing Rhodey on the lips, and Rhodey had returned the kiss, a deep swell of arousal tugging low in his stomach. Over the music and the sounds of everyone else at the party, Rhodey hadn’t heard the specific words when Tony said, pointedly, “We should get out of here!” but he met Tony’s eye, recognized that look, and rolled against his body. “Hey,” he’d shouted back, over the music. “You want to get out of here?”

            When Rhodey called the cab, Tony had leaned in, giggling, to give the driver his address, but Rhodey beat him to it; Tony usually liked bringing people back to the Penthouse, because it was huge and fancy and it tended to remind people who he was, and what he had. But he kind of liked Rhodey stepping all over that. He kind of liked being taken home. It hadn’t ever happened before.

            Rhodey tipped the driver generously, in gratitude for putting up with a very horny nineteen-year-old Tony Stark in the back seat, which again impressed Tony: he even paid for the cab fare, how romantic, and he could barely keep his hands off Rhodey as they made it up to his apartment. As Rhodey put his key in the lock, fiddling with it carefully, Tony kept touching him, then laid a little kiss on his neck, then his jaw, finding his lips.

            “Tony…” murmured Rhodey, his key still jiggling in the lock.

            Tony reached up to hold Rhodey’s face with both his hands, then sunk deeply into a kiss. “Yeah?” he replied, in between breathless kisses.

            There was a pause, and then the door opened, and Tony almost fell into the apartment. When he regained his footing, Rhodey was grinning at him, the door closed behind him.

            Mildly, drunkenly, Tony glanced around. “Nice place,” he commented. “I mean, it’s kind of small, and provincial, and I would never buy it, but-”

            He was cut off by Rhodey slamming into him, their mouths colliding hotly, wetly. Tony found it difficult to breathe as Rhodey’s hands slid down, squeezing his ass. Gently, he led Tony backwards to another room, and Tony surrendered all control, letting Rhodey place him where he wanted: he led him to the foot of a bed, which Tony gratefully fell backwards onto, pushing himself up by his elbows to watch hazily as Rhodey unbuckled his own belt, unzipped his fly, and shook off his jeans. Even in the low light, the outline of Rhodey’s impressive hard-on was visible through his underwear.

            “Oh,” said Tony, but then Rhodey surprised him by leaning down across Tony’s body, kissing his neck, slipping his hands underneath his shirt – if he was caught off guard, at all, by the tight binding that went halfway down Tony’s torso, he didn’t say anything. Instead he just hooked his fingers into the waist of Tony’s pants, catching his underwear too, and dragged them down, tugging them off past Tony’s feet and discarding them on the floor.

            Then, to Tony’s complete and shocked surprise – he didn’t think boys did this sort of thing, didn’t think they’d do it to him, anyway – Rhodey gently lowered his face between Tony’s legs, and went down on him.

            Tony had been gone down on before, so he knew when it was good, and Rhodey was so good Tony’s breath caught in his throat, coming out in a little, desperate gasp. He balled the sheets of the bed in one fist, watching with wide eyes as Rhodey took his sweet time, tongue working against Tony’s clit gently, gingerly, with only enough urgency to build up tension, bringing Tony closer to the edge.

            With a glance upwards, Rhodey caught that he was watching, and a smile tickled the inside of Tony’s thighs. Rhodey reached up, his hands slipping across the skin of Tony’s stomach, and then Tony immediately tugged at the binder on his chest, wiggling out of it, freeing up more bare skin for Rhodey to touch. Which he did, immediately, reaching up to lay his hand across Tony’s right breast, rolling the nipple in between his fingers. After so many hours wearing the binder, it was sudden overstimulation, and Tony grabbed his wrist, still struck dumb by the sight before him.

            Rhodey kept going, and the breath in Tony’s chest went hot: he could barely breathe enough as Rhodey wrapped one arm around Tony's upper thigh, pulling Tony in closer to his mouth, rolling against the base of the bed as he did so to for some small measure of friction for his cock. Then Rhodey took his other hand away from Tony’s breast, and gently fingered at his slit; he paused just long enough to wet his fingers with his mouth, then pushed in to Tony.

            All at once, the sensation became hotter, deeper. Tony threw his head back on the bed, unable to stay focused on Rhodey, and his back arched in ecstasy as Rhodey curved two fingers, rocking them back and forth inside Tony purposefully. With one shaking hand he reached down, searching for Rhodey’s head, but Rhodey caught his hand with his own, interlacing their fingers. He moved Tony’s hand out onto the bed, so it wouldn’t get in the way. Climax began to rise in Tony like a growing wave, and Rhodey’s fingers hit the right spot inside of him and he spasmed slightly, struggling underneath Rhodey’s calm, strong hold. “Right there!” he managed to gasp. “There, there! Keep going!” Then, breathlessly, “J-Jim-”

            It was Rhodey’s name, Tony thought, that did it: he sped up his pace, finger-fucking Tony in earnest now, and Tony gasped as the wave crashed against him, and orgasm shook his whole body – but Rhodey didn’t stop, moving up to put his mouth on Tony’s breast, his hand still working between Tony’s legs, and the pleasure coiled up inside Tony burst again, leaving him breathless. By the third time, it was less powerful, punctuated only by a slight gasp from Tony and an involuntary spasm in his legs, bringing them up and on either side of Rhodey’s strong waist.

            Knowing when to quit, Rhodey finally took his fingers out of Tony. He kissed him once, gently, on the mouth – he tasted like Tony, which Tony always found intoxicating, which maybe was narcissistic, but Tony didn't care – and then Rhodey pulled Tony upwards on the bed slightly, so he had enough room to kneel between Tony’s legs. On his knees, Rhodey pulled down his underwear, discarding them, and Tony felt a wave of intense arousal as Rhodey’s eyes wandered across Tony’s body, and he gave his hard cock a few pumps, and then lowered himself down across Tony’s body.

            It sent a thrill of exhilaration when he felt the touch of Rhodey’s cock between his legs, but he also knew what he wanted and what he didn’t want, so before Rhodey could push into him, he slipped a hand down, covering his entrance, putting a solid layer in between himself and Rhodey’s cock.

            Without looking up, Rhodey mumbled, “It’s okay, I’ll pull out.”

            “No,” said Tony.

            “It’s-” he paused and looked up at Tony, unsure. Then he looked around and reached out towards the bedside table. “I can – I’ve got a condom right here, I’ll-”

            “No, no,” whined Tony, pushing Rhodey back. “It’s not that, I just don’t want to. That’s all. I just – don’t.”

            Rhodey looked up at Tony for a moment, his chest rising and sinking with heavy breaths. Tony gave him a little grin, then turned his hand around and took hold of Rhodey’s cock. Slowly at first, working up to it, building tension, he began to jerk him off. All the while Rhodey could not take his eyes off Tony’s face, even as his gaze went slightly fuzzy, and he bit his lip to hold back a little grunting gasp.

            Tony had never done this before, but he’d seen it done in dirty movies, and he got the general idea. He ran his thumb over the head and twisted his wrist, hoping he was doing it right, hoping it was making Rhodey feel any way at all.

            From the way Rhodey eventually dropped his gaze, his breaths audible and desperate, Tony figured he was doing an okay job. All of the sudden Rhodey lowered his face to the crook of Tony’s neck, closing the space between their bodies – Tony took his hand away, and Rhodey rocked his hips up, grinding against Tony’s body. It was an incredibly erotic, euphoric sensation, and arousal tugged deep in Tony’s stomach as Rhodey rutted up against him, pressing their bodies together for friction. Wanting to do something to make this better, hotter for Rhodey, he reached up and wrapped his arms around Rhodey’s back, holding him tightly, craning his neck the other direction so Rhodey could kiss his neck at a better angle. “Jim,” whispered Tony, eyes closed, catching Rhodey’s rhythm, rocking his own hips up to meet him. “Oh, fuck. That’s so good, that’s so – much – I love it – keep going-”

            His dirty talk, and Tony already knew this, wasn’t as good as other people always seemed to make it sound in erotica, but anything much else felt unnatural, inauthentic – strange in his mouth.

            Rhodey reached down again to toy, clumsily, with Tony’s clit, and he sincerely appreciated the effort, even though it didn’t do much.

            With a shuddering gasp, Rhodey’s tempo hit a crescendo, and he bucked up, and the space between their bodies, already slick with sweat, became that much slicker, with something else. It happened a second before Tony realized it had, and then his eyebrows shot up in surprise and glee. For a moment Rhodey didn’t move, and Tony laid there under him uncertainly, but happily; most everything he’d gleaned about this kind of ended here, and he didn’t know what to do next. But then, with a groan, Rhodey rolled off of him, resting one arm across his face as he caught his breath.

            Tentatively, Tony looked down at himself. It was a good look for him, he decided, even though it wasn’t exactly like the moneyshots in porn movies.

            After a moment, Rhodey pushed himself up on his side. “Sorry,” he mumbled, gesturing at the small mess, and then he reached over and grabbed some tissues from the nightstand and, without another word, gently wiped his cum off of Tony’s bare stomach. He did the same for himself, then expertly tossed the used tissues into a bin by the bed, which had the effect of making Tony think about Rhodey doing this on his own, on this bed, which sent another rumbling wave of arousal through Tony’s body.

            But it was also so like Rhodey, Tony thought, to apologize for making a mess when he came and to clean it up of his own accord, without needing to be asked.

            Rhodey tucked his arm around Tony’s chest, just below his ribcage, and rested his chin on Tony’s shoulder. “Hey,” he murmured, his eyes half-closed. “Are you good?”

            “Me?” echoed Tony, blinking in disbelief at Rhodey. “Yeah, no. I’m good. I’m super good. I am – honestly, Jim, it would take a lot for me to be actually more good than I am right now.”

            With a little laugh, eyes closed, Rhodey kissed him again. “Good,” he breathed, and then he closed his eyes, and not a few minutes later, he was already snoring. Tony had not slept with enough guys to roll his eyes and mutter, “Typical,” but with most of the girls he’d been with he too tended to conk out right after the magic happened, so he rolled his eyes and said it anyway. It felt good. Felt right.

            Tony snuggled up into Rhodey’s touch, twisting around so he could be the little spoon, and pressed himself against the soft curve of Rhodey’s body.

            In the morning, Tony was rudely awoken by sunlight streaming into the room, making him very warm underneath the sheets. He blinked awake, rubbing at his eyes, then glanced beside him.

            Rhodey lay beside him. He met Tony’s gaze when he looked at him. “Morning,” he said.

            With an affected sort of faux-surprise, because Tony thought it’d be kind of coy and cute, he replied, “You’re still here.”

            Rhodey gave him a shrug. “This is my apartment.”

            “That usually doesn’t stop me.”

            “Not all of us have three other apartments and a Penthouse to run away to, though.”

            Tony returned the shrug. “Touché.”

            There was a slight pause between them, and then Rhodey rolled over and got up. Still nude, he headed out of the room, towards the kitchen. “You want coffee?” he called. “I got some OJ too,” he added, accompanied by the sound of the refrigerator opening, “but it’s kinda old.”

            “Coffee’s good,” replied Tony. It was warm in the room and coffee was likely to make him even warmer, so he pulled down the covers to his waist. Usually he liked to keep his chest mostly covered up, but Rhodey had pretty much been up-close and personal last night, so there wasn’t much to keep hidden anymore.

            “How do you take it?” called Rhodey, a few minutes later.

            “Like my men,” Tony called back.

            Inwardly, he cringed.

            “Sorry,” he added, setting himself up on his elbows, grimacing out the bedroom door, although he could not see Rhodey from this angle. “Was that tasteless? That was tasteless, wasn’t it. Sorry. I have impulse control issues.”

            Rhodey returned to the bedroom a minute later, a grin on his face, two mugs in hand. “There,” he said, handing one mug to Tony, then slipping into bed beside him, sitting against the backboard. “Strong and sweet. Just like your men.”

            Tony held the mug with both hands, taking a sip. “Good,” he said, trying to fight the blush rising to his face – he was a full-body blusher, though, so if Rhodey didn’t see it on his face, he definitely saw it on his neck, or his chest. “Cute. Yep. That’s definitely what I was talking about.”

            He took another sip, and so did Rhodey, and there was a sort silence between them.

            “You know what,” added Tony, pointing to the mug. “You know what’d be good in this? Peppermint Schnapps. You got any Peppermint Schnapps? That’s actually how I take my coffee, I was just trying to be cute before.”

            “Tony,” said Rhodey, levelly. “Can we talk about last night?”

            “Yes,” answered Tony, nodding enthusiastically. “Yes, we absolutely can. If you’d like, actually, I can take you through a play-by-play narration, in fact, along with demonstrations. I mean, admittedly you did most of the heavy lifting, but I think I can figure it out.”

            “Tony,” said Rhodey. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you.”

            “I can’t,” said Tony, shaking his head. He placed a hand dramatically at his head. “I’m too hungover for this.”

            “You had three shots.”

            “Four shots,” corrected Tony. “One out of that girl’s navel.”

            “That was me,” said Rhodey.

            “Oh, shit, what?” He blinked. “Maybe I really was drunker than I thought.”

            Leaning slightly off the bed, careful not to spill his coffee, Rhodey pulled something off the floor. He held it up in front of Tony.

            “What is this?” asked Rhodey. He asked it very gently, but Tony felt his heart sink nonetheless.

            It was a chest binder, is what it was, and Tony had bought it at a place in Greenwich Village, last time he went into the city by himself. But Tony could not bring himself to admit that to Rhodey – he had no practice in this, in saying it out loud, in confirming suspicions and half-glances. So he did what his instinct told him to do, and he lied.

            “It’s a,” he began, his mind hard at work, “it is actually, a very stylish sports bra. All the rage in, you know. Women’s underthings. Super popular.”

            “No, it’s not,” said Rhodey.

            “Yes, it is,” answered Tony. “You’d know that if you quit jacking it to the Victoria’s Secret models long enough to actually pay attention to what they were wearing.”

            “Tony,” said Rhodey, shaking the garment in his hand just slightly. “Stop it. I know what this is. I’m trying to help you out here.”

            Tony eyed him half-heartedly. “Help me out?”

            “Just say it, okay? Just tell me. It’s okay.”

            Tony didn’t say anything for a long moment, lips pressed together tightly. He glanced in between the binder and Rhodey’s face, then bunched up the covers, pulling them over his chest.

            He licked his lips. “But,” he began cautiously, watching Rhodey carefully. “You – you don’t…” He trailed off, wondering how to phrase it, how to explain why he was so scared without making it sound like expectation, or accusation.

            He decided to bite the bullet, and be straight with Rhodey. Well. Not straight.

            “You only date women,” said Tony.

            Rhodey watched him. “Are we dating?”

            “Well,” replied Tony, cocking his head. “Since I just said you only date women…”

            He trailed off, then Rhodey finished that sentence for him. “And you’re not a woman.”

            Tony didn’t say anything. His heart felt simultaneously as if it were pounding in his chest, and also as if it weren’t beating at all.

            “No,” said Tony, his voice very tight and very quiet, as if hardly speaking at all. “I’m not.”

            Rhodey let out a long breath, the dropped the binder back on the floor. He took a sip of his coffee. Mirroring Rhodey’s movements, but also staying ultra-focused on his face, searching for any indication of anger or displeasure, Tony too took a sip.

            With a sigh, Rhodey gestured at Tony’s body and said, “Sorry about going down on you last night.”

            Tony’s eyebrows shot up. “Sorry?”

            “Yeah,” responded Rhodey, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. He didn’t move or pull away from Tony’s body, not even where their knees touched beneath the sheets. “I mean, with all of this going on – just must’ve put you in a weird headspace, giving – that part of you – so much attention.”

            A little smile teased its way onto to Tony’s face. “Believe me,” he said, in relief. “Weird is not the word I would use to describe my headspace last night.”

            There was a shade of brightness in Rhodey’s expression. “You liked it?”

            “I dunno, did you – did you not notice me coming three different times, or…?”

            Rhodey grinned at him. “Good,” he said, sounding a little proud of himself. He leaned forward and kissed Tony chastely, a peck on the lips. He left Tony wanting more.

            Something occurred to Tony, and he nodded down at the binder at the floor. “Hey,” he said, nudging Rhodey, “how did you know what that was?”

            Rhodey shrugged. “I have a cousin,” he said. “She has all kinds of friends, I’ve gone to some of their parties before.” He glanced away from Tony, picking at a loose thread in his sheets. “She’s kind of sick now,” he said, quietly.

            Tony watched him. “Have you ever been with a guy?”

            Rhodey smiled at him, almost shyly. “Now I have.”

            Something blossomed in Tony’s chest. Up until now, the only people who’d ever spoken to him like that, confirmed verbally what he already knew, had been doctors. And he paid them.

            “Besides,” added Rhodey, setting aside his coffee on the bedside table. “Not for nothing, Tony, but you go to a school full of geniuses. I’m not the only one who’s noticed some changes.”

            Cupping his own mug in his hands, Tony leaned slightly into the pillows, as if he could disappear amongst them. “Is that so.”

            “Yeah,” said Rhodey. “Remember that fluid mechanics class of yours I T.A.’d, your first semester? Yeah, believe me, you’re, like, unrecognizable.”

            “What do people say?”

            “I don’t gossip,” he said first, holding up his hands as if to clear his name. But then he added, “But…” he shrugged, “lots of people just think you’re butch. I mean, it’s not really a secret that you sleep with other women-” Tony raised an eyebrow, and Rhodey corrected, “-just – with women, I mean. To tell the truth I was a little surprised you were into me at the party last night.”

            Tony giggled. “I’ve always been into you,” he admitted. “Since that class freshman year. You were pretty hot, even though your explanation of non-Newtonian fluids was really spotty.”

            Rhodey nodded, ceding Tony this point. “It’s not my specialty. But you did alright in the class, right?”

            “You did give me an A,” replied Tony, with a gracious nod. “And I didn’t even have to blow you.”

            Again, Rhodey let out a small laugh. Tony kept his gaze zeroed in on him, soaking in the warmth, the intimacy, the proximity of closeness and vulnerability that he wasn’t used to.

            “Were you into me?” asked Tony, watching Rhodey, enthralled.

            Rhodey gave him an obvious look. “You were fifteen,” he answered.

            “Very mature for my age,” noted Tony.

            “No,” answered Rhodey. “I wasn’t into you. Thought you were kind of bratty, actually.”

            Tony pretended this didn’t hit him like a serious blow to his ego. He held out his mug, and Rhodey took it, then placed it alongside his beside the bed.

            “Actually,” admitted Rhodey, slowly. “It was…kind of a slow burn.” He smiled hesitantly. “When you came back after that semester off, with the short hair, and I guess you started, you know,” he patted his chest, as if to mime flattening it, “that’s – I mean, that’s when I started noticing you. I mean, really noticing you.”

            This flattered Tony immensely, and he stared at Rhodey, shocked. “That was when I started T,” he said.

            When Rhodey glanced at him, obviously unsure, Tony clarified, “Testosterone – that’s when I started hormone therapy.” He paused, watching Rhodey. Something dawned on him. “Oh my God,” he muttered. “You’re into stone butches.”

            “Hey,” said Rhodey, holding up his hand, “hold on-”

            “Oh my God, this explains so much,” said Tony, shaking his head. “No wonder, I mean – there was that girl, what was her name,” he wracked his brain, “that’s right, Carol-”

            “Hey,” repeated Rhodey, cutting him off. “You don’t get to judge my dating history if I don’t get to judge yours.”

            “I don’t really date,” replied Tony, leaning his head onto his shoulder, considering this. “I’m more of a hookup kind of guy.” Kind of guy. Just saying it felt sweet, like a relief, or a freedom.

            Rhodey’s tongue slipped out of his mouth, wetting his lips. “Have you ever been with – another guy?”

            For a moment Tony considered lying, because he always hated the pressure of being somebody’s first anything, but then he thought about how stunningly good Rhodey had been to him, and he decided to tell the truth. “No,” he confessed. “I went to an all-girls boarding school, so. I got pretty comfortable with that.”

            “But you’re into men,” Rhodey added, as if asking for clarification.

            “I’m super into men,” agreed Tony, nodding his head. “Just – straight guys think I’m too butch, and gay guys think I’m – well,” he said, gesturing down at his body.

            Rhodey nodded in agreement, and then reached out to place his hand on Tony’s hip. “What does that make me?”

            Tony shrugged. “Bi, maybe? Or just open-minded and kind of a horndog.”

            With a roll of his eyes, Rhodey grinned. “Okay, alright. Sure.”

            There was another long pause between them. Tony leaned forward, tentatively dropping his head onto Rhodey’s chest, leaning into his shoulder. Rhodey held him.

            “Have you told your parents?” asked Rhodey.

            Tony’s heart slowed, and sank into his stomach.

            “No,” he answered, without looking up. “My mom cried when I cut my hair. This’d break her heart. And the only thing my dad hates more than the gays is the Mexicans, so.”

            Rhodey frowned. “Isn’t your mom Mexican?”

            A hint of disgruntlement flickered across Tony’s face. “She’s Puerto Rican, don’t be ignorant.”

            Another short silence. Rhodey asked, “You want some help telling them?”

            “I’m not going to tell them,” said Tony stubbornly. “If they paid attention to me for two seconds they’d notice. But that’s their job, not mine.”

            “You don’t think you need to come out to your parents?”

            “I barely just came out to you,” replied Tony pointedly, “and we just banged.”

            There was some logic to this, so Rhodey cocked his head and ceded the point. “Be careful, okay?” muttered Rhodey, holding on to Tony. “Don’t go trying to pick up guys at some shady bar, or something. Make sure they’re…”

            He trailed off, but Tony supplied the word for him. “Tested?”

            That wasn’t the word Rhodey was going to use, but it meant the same thing. “Yeah,” he said. “Just don’t make me worry about you, okay?”

            At this, Tony shifted his head so he could look up at Rhodey’s face. A sly grin slipped onto his face. “You think I could pick up guys?”

            Rhodey glanced down at him. “Yeah,” he said. “Sure.”

            “What about you?” asked Tony. “When I go full-on dude.” Over the sheets, he tapped his crotch. “When I start packing and everything. Would you still fuck me?”

            With a roll of his eyes, Rhodey began, “Tony-”

            “I’m serious,” insisted Tony. “Are you saying this because you know you’re not going to be into me anymore, or-”

            “No, Tony-” Rhodey broke off, then leaned his head back against the pillows. “Okay,” he said, looking back down at Tony, “for the record, you shouldn’t tie your self-worth to whether or not one person would have sex with you. But,” he said, shifting slightly underneath Tony, “yeah. I’d still sleep with you.”

            Tony laughed, looking up at Rhodey in glee. “What about when I get top surgery?” he asked.

            “Top sur-?”

            He took Rhodey’s hands, and placed them on his breasts. “When I get rid of these,” he explained.

            “Oh,” said Rhodey. Tony couldn’t quite tell, but he thought Rhodey blushed. “Well, yeah. Sure.”

            “What about when my voice drops?” asked Tony. “Here, I’ve been practicing.” He cleared his throat, then lowered his voice. “How does this sound?”

            Rhodey took Tony’s hands, entwining their fingers. “Sexy,” he said simply.

            “Or how about when I grow facial hair?” he asked, lifting his chin slightly. “Think I’ve got a girly chin, I’ll get a beard to cover that up. And a mustache, maybe, mustaches are sexy.”

            Rhodey laughed, “Mustaches are not sexy.”

            “Are you kidding me? Mustaches are super sexy.”

            Tony held out his hands slightly, reveling in Rhodey’s touch as his hands went along, holding onto him.

            “Do you have another name?” asked Rhodey. “Something else you want me to call you?”

            “I want you to call me, my sexy little sunbeam.” He grinned up at Rhodey. “Or Daddy. I’m into that.”

            Dismissing this with a little smile, Rhodey added, “I mean a different name.”

            Tony thought about this for a moment, then shook his head. “I’m gonna stick with Tony,” he said, laying his hands, and Rhodey’s, on his stomach. “I’ll probably change Antonia though.”

            “Antonio?”

            Lips pursed, Tony shook his head. “Too close.”

            “You want something really different?”

            “Not too different.”

            “How about Anthony?”

            Tony thought about this. “Anthony,” he said, tasting the name in his mouth. “Anthony Stark.” It didn’t feel bad. It felt pretty good. “I like that,” he said. “I wouldn’t mind that at all.”

            “And I guess you want me to start talking about you like you’re a guy. He instead of she and everything.”

            “Not in public,” answered Tony mildly. “Think I’m gonna wait on that. Disappear for another semester, get some surgery, start lifting weights. Come back and blow everyone’s mind with how hot and male I am.”

            “Good plan.”

            “You think I can do it?”

            “I think you’re Anthony Stark,” replied Rhodey simply, “and that means if you want to get something done, you’ll do it. That’s who you are.”

            Tony settled into Rhodey’s chest, closing his eyes. Somewhere deep inside of his chest felt very warm, and there were butterflies in his stomach.

            “I think I love you, Jim,” he said.

            “I mean, this got pretty intimate,” replied Rhodey reasonably. “It’s the oxytocin, probably.”

            “No,” said Tony stubbornly, turning around to wrap his arms around Rhodey’s chest. “I’m serious. I’ve got lots of chemicals running around in my brain right now, I know which ones are artificial. This one’s legit. James Rhodes,” declared Tony, getting up to his knees in bed, his hands on Rhodey’s shoulders. “I love you, man. In a completely gay way.”

            Rhodey laughed, then he wrapped his arms around Tony’s midriff, resting his chin on Tony’s breasts. “I’m really grateful you decided to share all of this with me. It’s an honor, Mr. Stark.”

            Tony flushed, and Rhodey kissed him on the chest. “Not quite I love you too,” he noted, “but I’ll take it.”

            He leaned down to kiss Rhodey again, and Rhodey smiled against his mouth, and by the time they finally made it out of bed, their coffee had gone cold.

Chapter Text

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