To all the people who are following my other Steve/Tony story, no need to worry, new chapters are in the works!
This idea popped into my head as I was falling asleep last night (I like to think of naked men around this time), and it just wouldn't leave me alone today.
I had a blast writing this first chapter, especially since I like to torture the subjects of my stories (something unsettling I've learned about myself in the process of writing fanfiction). Not to mention I majored in studio art for two years before switching to environmental studies, so it was a comfortable and familiar setting for me to write.
This story will be shorter than my others, probably about 5 chapters at most! Enjoy and please leave feedback!
Apologies, as always, for all my work is un-beta'd and all mistakes are my own.

Steve set a fresh piece of paper on his drawing easel and nervously eyed the man standing casually in a bathrobe across the room from him.

Steve knew what he was getting himself into when he had finally chosen to attend art school. He knew that he would be a few years older than his classmates, and that despite the age gap, they would likely have more practical experience than him in many areas. Steve was well aware that his drawing labs would have him eventually sketching the nude human form, and he had originally anticipated these lessons with great enthusiasm. He had drawn the human figure many times, of course, sometimes taking his small sketchbook with him to the park, and drawing the scenes and people around him. But before now, he had never been given the opportunity or the means to draw the natural human figure in an artistic learning environment. It was such an elemental part of the drawing experience, and he had always felt like he would never fully be able to bring his work to life without truly studying and understanding the human form. Yet as he sat nervously on the bench attached to his easel, the charcoal he was fiddling with rubbing off onto his sweaty hands, he couldn't quell the nerves building inside of him.

His classmates were, for the most part, talking boisterously around him, but he was more focused on the man who would shortly be modeling for them. The man in question, dark-haired and roguishly handsome, leaned against the wall with an ease to him that Steve just couldn't comprehend. If he was nervous about drawing another person naked, he was fairly certain he would have a very real, very intense panic attack if he was baring it all to such a keen and observing audience.

The man was talking animatedly to his professor, the two of them chatting without paying any attention to the students busying themselves in front of them.

Steve took a few calming breaths and all to soon, his professor, Virginia Potts, was calling the class to attention.

"Are we all set up? Good. Charcoal or conte only please. No pencils to sketch first, I want this to be an organic experience. We will start off with a few thirty second poses where you will only need to sketch the general shape and contours of the form, and then we will move on to do several five minute poses before we take a break." She turned to the model, "does that sound alright to you?"

The man rubbed his hands together excitedly and walked up onto the platform, undoing his robe, "let's get this show on the road."

She nodded and turned back to the class, "Divide your sketch sheets into four sections, one for each 30 second pose. I'll ring a small bell for the model to change poses so we can all stay on the same page. Any last questions?" There was a quiet murmur around the class as everyone shook their heads. She looked back at the model, "Do you?"

He cleared his throat, "I'd just like to extend my gratitude to whoever thought to set up the space heater." He grinned as there was a peal of laughter around the class, "It might be warm outside," he gestured towards the opened windows, where a steady breeze was passing through, "but you guys don't have the luxury of sitting around with all your nether regions exposed to the elements." He gave a wink to no one in particular as more laughter was shared among the students.

And before Steve could even take another breath, the man was taking off his robe, baring dark, tanned skin, and handing the shed garment casually to Professor Potts.

Steve heard a small snap. For a fleeting second, he thought it might have been his brain, but then he looked down to his hands, where his charcoal was quickly being reduced to powder. He hurriedly brushed his blackened hands off on a cloth and picked up his conte instead, relying on the heavier, more solid material to keep under his shaking hands. He looked back up towards the platform and saw, with a bit of alarm, that the man was already posing, and his classmates were quickly sketching away.

He had barely drawn more than a line on his paper before he heard a small chime and then the man was changing his position, now standing face-on toward Steve. And much to Steve's chagrin, he found himself unable to look away from the model's "nether regions" as he had called it.

Well, there it was.

Not to much of a shock there, really.

The man had a soft-looking diamond of dark pubic hair that rested elegantly (was that possible?) over his pelvic area, and that tapered into a smooth line by the time it reached his belly button. His penis rested between firm thighs that were also coated in soft-looking hair that looked like it would be nice to run his hands over. Steve had a moment to try and process that alarming thought before he heard the bell sound again. His sketching paper now held two pathetic wobbly lines that resembled absolutely nothing. He steeled himself to focus on his third attempt. But then he looked up and saw that the model now had his backside facing Steve and he felt his mind go stupidly blank.

That was...wow.

That was something. A real nice something.

A nice and firm something.

Probably the nicest-looking ass Steve had ever laid his eyes on.. It was covered in a light sheen of hair that didn't at all hide the lovely sculpted quality of the flesh underneath.

Ding.

Son of a-

The model was turning again, and Steve just couldn't stop staring goddammit! He wiped the back of his hand over his forehead which suddenly felt entirely too sweaty, and tried to focus on the paper and conte in his hand in front of him. Except that he couldn't because the whole point of this was to observe the model and-

Ding.

His classmates were all dismounting their sketches and placing them on the tables that lined the classroom, where the teacher would collect and grade them. Steve awkwardly stayed sitting because he absolutely refused to hand in his stupid piece of sketch paper with it's stupid four lines. He furtively tucked his pathetic attempt behind his pad of paper and tried to calm himself for the next twenty minutes of sketching.

And four, five-minute sketches later, Steve was breathing a shaking sigh of relief as he looked through his work. He had managed to produce one decent looking sketch to show during the class critique in a few moments, but he knew he wasn't out of the water yet.

He shuffled up to the wall, where his classmates were pining their drawings for everyone to see. He felt slightly less ashamed of his attempt when he saw that many others had also struggled to draw the human figure in such a quick period of time. He glanced quickly down at his drawing, wondering if he should bring up a different one; his choice was certainly the most interesting to look at out of his four sketches, this one having more exaggerated, curved lines to it. The drawing was a three-quarter view of the backside of the model, with one arm extended and resting over his head. Steve shook off his indecision and displayed his work among everyone else's, standing back in the small crowd of students so they could discuss and critique the work in front of them.

Much to his dismay, he saw the model standing next to his professor, intently eyeing all the interpretations of his body.

Miss Potts spoke, "Well done, everyone. This was to act as a warm up to this unit of study. I wanted to see what you would create when given minimal instructions, and I'm quite pleased with the results I see in front of me. For the most part, the next few weeks of your drawing labs will have a slightly different approach, where we will be drawing the model in one pose for an extended period of time, and I'll make sure to walk around the class and help everyone with their drawings. For this critique, I'd like us to observe the unique interpretations done by your classmates. It's not necessary to have a unique or stylistic approach to drawing the human figure so early on in your learning, but it's something I will encourage for the final assignment in this unit. Who would like to start off the critique?"

Steve usually had no problem including his feedback into the class critique, but he kept quiet this time, perfectly content to listen to everyone else's opinions for the time being. After several minutes of discussion, a classmate (he couldn't be sure, but he thought her name was Natasha) pointed out his drawing, "I like the almost androgynous feel to it. I mean, there's an obvious musculature that initially would seem to represent a more masculine form, but it's been combined with these broad, thick curving lines that could represent a more shapely figure. It's an interesting interpretation, considering the model is quite lean and defined."

Steve worriedly looked over at the man, hoping he hadn't taken offense to Steve's representation, but the man only looked relaxed and curious, one eyebrow slightly raised.

After another ten minutes of discussion, they returned to their easels . There was a stool set up on the platform with a light sheet draped over it. They would be drawing the model's sitting form, focusing on the play of light and shadow that contoured the body and reflected onto the draping material. The man sat facing him, his hands on his knees, which were spread almost shamelessly open for Steve to get an eyeful. He quickly decided to exaggerate the lighting in the room and make the model's pelvic area mostly in shadow. He didn't think he would be able to get anything productive done if he had done otherwise.

The twenty minutes passed surprisingly quickly, and he felt much more relaxed at the end of class. His drawing had turned out fairly well, all things considered, although it was quite obvious that Steve had largely ignored a certain area of the model in favour of the rest of him. As the class cleaned up and started to stack their easels in the back of the room, Steve noticed that the man was now pacing slowly in front of their earlier drawings on the wall, taking in their work close-up. His classmates were beginning to dismount their drawings from the wall, several of them striking up conversation with the model. Steve, of course, couldn't help but to overhear.

One of his male classmates asked, "What made you take up this kind of modeling? I hear the money's good."

He heard a rich chuckle from the other man, "Nah, I'm doing this pro-bono. I'm a friend of your prof's and I kind of like to think of myself as a philanthropist of sorts. Also, it was on my bucket list."

His classmate laughed, and the two of them began to speak in hushed tones. Steve suspected they were talking about the professor, of whom many of the boys had crushes on.

He approached the critique wall to retrieve his drawing, and saw Natasha yanking her classmate away from the model, "Stop flirting, Clint. You suck at it."

"I wasn't flirting!" he retorted, but he let himself be dragged away regardless, giving a sorrowful shrug in the model's direction.

Steve was taking the second pin out of the wall when he felt a warmth brush his arm. He looked over and saw the model standing right next to him, invading his personal space, and causing Steve's face to turn what was probably a violent shade of red. He cleared his throat, but the other man spoke first, "I think this was my favourite of the day. You made my ass look amazing."

Steve wanted to say that the man didn't need a drawing to make his ass look great, but instead all that came out was something that sounded like, "buhhwhaaa...?"

The man gave him a charming grin that had Steve's insides twisting even further, and he held his hand out to Steve, "The name's Tony. More formal introductions probably would've been nice before I got naked in front of you, but I can't say it's all that different from real life."

Steve could barely absorb the words. He was proud of himself for being able to have the coherency to say his one-syllable name to the other man and coordinate the hand-shake, "Steve."

Tony held his hand for a moment longer than was necessary, "That's quite the grip you have on you." He slowly and obviously looked Steve up and down, and Steve was sure his face was now a colour that had never been seen on a human. Tony spoke again, "You ever thought about modeling, Steve?"

He shook his head, staring stupidly at Tony.

"Well you definitely should. The world's missing out."

Steve looked bashfully down at his drawing, which he was crumpling slightly in his hands. Tony spoke up again, "What made you go to art school?"

Steve looked up at that. Tony seemed genuinely interested. He rubbed a hand behind his neck, "I never really thought I would have the chance to do it. I was-," his eye's flicked briefly to Tony's then away again, "I was in the army for a while. When I was discharged, I was given the opportunity to attend college and I decided on here."

Tony nodded, "I thought you looked a bit different from everyone."

Steve was puzzled, "how do you mean?"

"You look older. More worldly. Wizened."

Steve gave a small chuckle, "I guess that's one way to put it."

"Hey, um," Tony was biting his lip and Steve couldn't look away, "Would you be willing to part with this?" Tony was looking down at Steve's drawing. "It's just, well, I like it you see, and I don't really have anything in the way of art around my apartment. I guess it would be a bit egotistical of me to frame a drawing of me in all my naked glory, but I don't really care."

Steve was already pushing the drawing into Tony's hands, "It's all yours."

"Thank you!" Tony clapped him on the shoulder and stared down at the drawing, his eyes lighting up, before he was looking happily back up at Steve, and Steve could only smile in return.

His professor was suddenly there, her arm linking around Tony's, "Sorry to interrupt you two. Tony? We need to leave and get you dressed ASAP to make those reservations."

Tony's eyes widened, "And yet again, I completely forgot. Thanks Pepper, I'll follow you out."

He turned back to Steve, "Thanks again, Steve. I'll be seeing you next week." He gave a salut and started to walk away.

It was only then that Steve realized he was supposed to hand in the drawing he had given Tony. Oh well.

"And Steve?"

He looked back up, hopeful.

"You have some black smudges all over your forehead and neck. Just thought you might want to know before you go to your next class." He gave Steve a knowing wink, and just like that, Tony was gone, and Steve was left standing alone in the quiet classroom.