Red & Blue
In the final week of the semester, Steve found himself celebrating the successful culmination of his hard work, reflected in his grades. As the last classes concluded, anticipation for summer break swelled. The pinnacle of the semester awaited him in the form of the art exhibition.
The venue was a testament to the transformative power of art, its walls adorned with a kaleidoscope of colors and emotions. Steve moved through the space, captivated by each brushstroke and burst of color. He was in his element, completely immersed in the world of creativity.
As Steve wandered through the exhibition, his eyes fell upon a magnificent crystal piece, bathed in ethereal hues of blue and red. The light played upon its surface, casting prismatic reflections across the room. Its size and intricacy were a testament to the artist's skill, a mesmerizing creation that seemed to transcend the ordinary.
As he stood enraptured by the piece, he became aware of a subtle shift in the atmosphere. Glancing up, he found Tony's gaze fixed intently on him, their eyes locking through the crystal.
Tony's gesture was subtle yet purposeful, a slight tilt of his head and a surreptitious point toward a man standing nearby. Steve furrowed his brows, a silent question written across his face. Tony's response was equally wordless, a raised eyebrow and a glance that seemed to say, "Figure it out."
With a resigned sigh, Steve nodded in understanding. He turned away from the crystal piece and discreetly moved to the other side of the exhibit.
As Tony turned towards Steve, a playful smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. "Oh, you're so late," he teased.
Steve couldn't help but chuckle, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "Yeah, sorry," he replied.
Tony intertwined their arms, drawing Steve closer. The man who had been bothering Tony was now within Steve's reach. Without missing a beat, Steve turned to him and asked, "All good, man?"
The man, sensing the shift in atmosphere, quickly excused himself and moved away, leaving Tony and Steve to continue their conversation.
With a step back from Steve, Tony let out an exasperated sigh. "Ugh, alphas here are way more pushy than what I expected," he remarked, his frustration evident.
Steve raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. "What did he say?" he inquired.
Tony's expression turned wry. "He was asking if I would let him take pictures of my feet in the bathroom," he replied, a mix of disbelief and amusement in his voice.
"Well damn, I had never heard that one before," he quipped, sharing in Tony's amusement.
They both started walking together and Steve realized he was not going to be able to brush off Tony for the rest of the evening.
As they stood before a captivating painting, the last piece of the exhibition, Steve turned towards Tony, genuine curiosity in his eyes. "So, why are you here?" he asked, genuinely interested.
Tony's gaze lingered on the artwork for a moment before he turned to Steve, a casual smile playing on his lips. "Well, it's the end of the semester, and I realized my apartment is practically barren. Figured I should buy something before vacays," he explained, a hint of pragmatism in his voice.
Steve's brows raised in understanding. "Oh, so you're looking for some inspo?"
"Nah, I came to buy something here," Tony clarified with a sense of purpose.
Steve looked genuinely surprised. "Here?"
Tony nodded, his expression quizzical. "Yeah, that's how my parents bought theirs."
Steve's eyes widened in realization. "Do you know who painted this?" he inquired, a touch of determination in his voice.
"I do," Tony affirmed, glancing at Steve with a small smile.
"You can't buy this... I mean, you probably can, but it's not meant for some college student's apartment," Steve pointed out, emphasizing the need for reverence.
Tony's lips curved into an amused grin. "Okay, I see your point, Mr. Passionate," he conceded, turning his attention back to the painting.
They stood in silence for a moment, eyes still focused on the artwork.
"But I know a place where you could actually get a painting," Steve offered.
Tony's eyes brightened with interest. "Where is it?"
"Like 2 blocks from here," Steve replied.
Tony's face lit up with enthusiasm. "Let 's go then!"
☆☆☆
"I could never have imagined that there is a place on earth that smells more like weed than your house," Tony mused, glancing at Steve with an amused smirk.
They were strolling past a street lined with art supply stores and bookshops, their windows filled with vibrant displays.
Steve raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "My house doesn't smell that much, I only do it near the hallway to annoy you."
Tony let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. "Well, mission accomplished."
As they continued their leisurely walk, Tony's expression grew thoughtful. "I'm sensitive to smells."
Steve's gaze turned considerate. "Is that why you wear the patches?"
Tony hesitated for a moment, the topic bordering unknown territory. "That was kinda personal."
"Yeah…sorry," Steve offered an apologetic smile.
Tony glanced at him. "I wear them 'cause my scent is too powerful."
Steve's curiosity piqued. "Like what?"
Tony shrugged, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I really don't know. After presenting, I started using the patches immediately so I never had much time to give it a name."
"That sounds hard," Steve remarked, empathizing with the unique situation.
Tony nodded, his gaze distant. "Yeah, but my school was like 80% alphas, so I guess it saved me some trouble."
Steve's brows furrowed in surprise. "Wow, that's a lot! I think my prom was like 40%, maybe less."
Tony's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Oh well, maybe in my class it was different, but I never found out about everyone. I was homeschooled the last two years."
"I see."
The sun began its slow descent as Tony and Steve strolled down a vibrant pedestrian street. The atmosphere was electric, alive with the energy of young artists displaying their creations. Music wafted through the air, mingling with the scent of various street foods and the occasional whiff of smoke. The vibes were undeniably good.
Tony's keen eye assessing each piece they passed. Steve noticed Tony's hesitation, his brows furrowing slightly.
"Can't find one you like?" Steve asked.
Tony sighed, shaking his head. "I'm picky, I guess. I like what I like."
Steve tilted his head, intrigued. "What do you like then?"
Tony's eyes glinted with a hint of mischief. "Well, I really liked that blue one in your living room."
Steve couldn't help but smile. "I painted that."
Tony's eyes widened in pleasant surprise. "Really? And the one about the chess players?"
Steve nodded, a sense of pride washing over him. "Yeah, that's mine too."
Tony raised an amused eyebrow. "Is there any painting in your house that wasn't done by you?"
Steve paused, considering. "Hmm... no, I think they're all mine."
"Alright, then. I like your style."
Steve couldn't suppress a grin. "It's a bit all over the place, to be honest."
Tony's lips curved into a small smile. "I can appreciate that."
As they continued their leisurely walk, it became evident that none of the paintings truly captured Tony's interest. After a thoughtful silence, they both came to a mutual decision.
"You know what? Let's head back," Tony suggested, a note of contentment in his voice.
Steve nodded in agreement.
Amidst the lively crowd, a vibrant stall caught Tony's eye. Shaved ice glistened in an array of jewel-like colors, the cool treat a welcome contrast to the fading warmth of the day.
Tony turned to Steve with an eager grin. "Hey, do you want one?"
Steve considered for a moment before nodding. "Sure, sounds good."
Tony ordered a cherry-flavored creation, the vivid red syrup drizzling down the icy mound like a sweet cascade. Steve opted for raspberry, the deep hue promising a burst of fruity delight.
Cups in hand, they continued on their way, each step accompanied by the rhythmic crunch of ice. The cool sweetness offered a refreshing contrast to the lively atmosphere around them. The sun's golden rays wove through the cityscape, casting long, dappled shadows as it began its slow descent. Together, they strolled towards home.
☆☆☆
The elevator doors slid shut, enclosing Tony and Steve in a small, private space. They stood in comfortable proximity, the cool sweetness of their shaved ice lingering on their tongues. Steve finished his treat with a final sip, the taste of raspberry fading into the background.
Tony's voice broke the silence, carrying a trace of nostalgia. "You know, back when I was dating my first boyfriend, we used to go out and get shaved ice like this. I'd always go for the red one, and he'd get blue, and then our tongues would be all purple when we made out."
Steve's eyebrows lifted in intrigue. "Did it actually work?"
At that moment, as the elevator hummed around them, Tony considered.
Giving a glimpse towards Steve, he realized the situation was too nice to pass up. It wasn't how he'd planned to end the evening, but Steve looked particularly enticing that day. With a decisive lean, Tony closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to Steve's.
It was cold and wet. And it didn't take him long to keep up.
Maybe, for that moment his body and any kind of shame had remained on the first floor, because they just kept going up, his head felt light and his chest warm and heavy.
Steve was annoying, but he was also a good kisser and his hair felt so good between his fingers.
And the cold hands holding his waist, while keeping him in place also gave him the feeling that at any moment they would push him into something deeper and warmer.
Encapsulated, between the 4 silver walls of the elevator and Steve's marked body pressing him against a corner.
As the doors slid open on the seventh floor, neither of them moved to step out. They continued their fervent exchange, a dance of lips and lingering touches.
For a moment, they broke apart, their breath mingling in the confined space. Tony playfully stuck out his tongue.
"Nah, it's still red," Steve responded with a teasing grin, before pulling Tony back into their passionate embrace.
Finally, with a shared reluctance, they stepped out of the elevator, their pulses still racing from the intensity of their encounter. Tony led the way, a buoyant high from their impromptu make-out session.
As they walked, Tony turned to Steve with a mischievous glint in his eye. "You know what? I could pay you to make a painting for me."
Steve nodded, a pleased smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, I've done commissions before."
"Perfect. We can discuss it after the break," Tony suggested.
"Sure," Steve agreed.
They reached the doors of their respective apartments, standing on the precipice of summer break. Tony turned to Steve, with sparkling eyes.
"Goodnight, Steve."
"Goodnight, Tony," Steve replied, a warm smile gracing his features.