Steve Rogers was not adjusting well. Most people thought he was, but he wasn't. He was uncomfortable and concerned with the way the world had changed, but most of all he was mournful of having missed watching it change. He had been "asleep" for seventy years. He had missed everything. Inventions, scientific discoveries, civil rights movements, more wars, new movies, new heroes, new dances.
Dances. He was never going to dance with Peggy Carter. Heck, he probably wasn't going to dance ever again, not the way he had before, because everyone that knew how was dead or couldn't dance anymore. He was alone, in that sense, and it was sobering. When the thought hit him, as it sometimes did even without provocation, he would stop what he was doing and just stand there, silent and frowning, until he recovered.
Despite this, Steve hid it well. America still needed a hero, still needed Captain America, and he wasn't going to let them down. This time around, though, he wasn't alone. Now there was a team of them, the Avengers, and Steve was determined to stay strong around them, too. Especially one of them: Tony Stark.
Iron Man was the loudest and most ridiculous man Steve had ever met. He was impossibly intelligent and creative, and he obviously cared about his country, but he was flashy and fast and so unlike what he was used to, that Steve often found himself uneasy around him. Or mad. Actually, often mad. They had only known each other for less than a week, and Steve found himself ready to punch the loud-mouth, egotistical jerk on more than one occasion.
Not that he tried to pick fights. He'd like to be the man's friend, especially considering he was living in his house – which Steve thought of as more a 'castle' – which the older man had donated for the headquarters to the Avengers. It wasn't like they could avoid each other, though some days Steve wished he could. Then again, some days Steve wished he could avoid everyone.
Today was one of those days, but because the universe seemed to have a personal vendetta against him, the Avengers were having some sort of team-building exercises in the training room. As far as Steve could see it, they were just supposed to show off for a bit to each other, and then – eventually – see how well they could work together to defeat a virtual villain.
A virtual villain. One that was not there but it looked like it, because the things in the room moved and, sure, Steve had seen some amazing things back in the 40s, it hadn't been the stone age, but... But Tony Stark was a man of technology, and he had an awful lot more than Steve had even dreamed of.
Steve was wearing his costume, the red, white, and blue showing up even more next to Natasha and Clint, who were both dressed in black. He didn't have his mask on, though, because it was just practice, and so his blond hair was visible, still slicked neatly in place. Tall and broad-shouldered, he stood, watching as Thor wielded his hammer. He was trying to give his full attention, not wanting to appear rude, but he found himself slipping away every now and then, only to be brought back by a loud boom or other sign that Thor did something spectacular.
It was going to be a long day.
Tony was flying. Well, not really. Yes, he could fly, but today he was metaphorically flying down the high way in his Saleen S7. When you were Tony Stark, speed limits were simply there to tell him that the road had changed in some way that he didn't really care. He was coming back from Stark Industries where he had decided to pick up a few things that he had left behind last time he was there. Namely, his newest little toy, a handy little flesh healing serum. Boy would the guys get a kick out of his genius yet again.
There was some team-building exercise that was going on back at his place, that he had probably arranged, but if he continued at his current speed he could make it and be only "fashionably late".
"JARVIS," Tony barked the command, "Show me the training room." He chuckled to himself. That had reminded him of Beauty and the Beast. JARVIS was his magical mirror to any part of the world.
"As you wish, sir." The screen inside Tony's car blip-ed and showed him the training room. Tony looked over at it to see Thor laughing as he delighted in the destruction of some of the test robots around him. Surprisingly, he didn't seem at all stunned but the technology in the room. You'd expect a guy who basically came from the dark ages to cringe at this kind of thing. Tony smirked evilly as he thought of the tricks he could play on Thor and Rogers.
Man, that Rogers. He was such a self righteous prick. Okay, so Tony understood that everyone he loved was dead. He earned some sympathy points there. But come on. He was so old fashioned. How did he expect to survive in this "new world" if he couldn't adjust? He had to be cool and fast and flashy. It wasn't his problem though.
Rogers just got on his nerves. A lot. He was so different from Tony, such an opposite. They'd only known each other a week or so, and already they were constantly butting heads. Which wouldn't really happen if Rogers just let him do what he wanted. That's what team work was, at least to Tony: people doing what he wanted. He was the smart one, the one with the resources. He knew what to do. He could think on his feet.
Sure, he wasn't very good at organizing things, but that's what Pepper was for. She was the planner, the schedule builder. Tony just "followed his heart." That made him laugh.
He arrived home, parked his car, and got suited up. The paint on his suit glistened and gleamed since he had had Butterfingers polish it the night before. He was going to make his entrance, and it was going to be wonderful. He walked down the hall to the training room and blasted the door clean off, sending it flying across the room. His face shield was pulled back and he grinned as he walked into the room.
"Excuse the mess. I'm just redecorating."
Thor had finished up and was laughing about something. Steve had zoned out again, so he had missed the joke, but he smiled anyway, and even tried for a chuckle when the Norse god came and patted him on the shoulder. His turn next, time to show everyone what the super-solider had to offer. But the chuckle apparently hadn't fooled him, because Thor leaned in and said, "Is all well, my friend?"
Steve liked him. He was loud and strange, too, but not in the same way as Stark, and he could cope with Thor. He just wished his voice wasn't quite so loud and that the entire room hadn't heard what he said. "I'm good," he assured him, forcing another smile – his Captain America smile. He wasn't sure that Thor bought it, but he didn't question it, mostly because that bastard Stark decided to blast the door of the training room.
The rest of the Avengers were in position, sure they were under attack, and Stark had weapons pointed at him left and right. The Cap had grabbed his shield, about to throw it, when he realised who it was. He was still about to throw it when he figured it'd be in bad taste.
"Jeez, did you really have to do that, Stark?" he complained, loudly, but Thor said louder, "That is how a man enters a room!" and suddenly Steve wasn't so sure he liked him that much anymore.
"Well, if the show's over, can I get on with my practice?"
"That's a great idea, Rogers, why don't you spar with Stark?" Clint said, smirking, and while Steve thought Clint was a bigger asshole than Tony, he actually agreed with that. Because suit or no suit, he could take Iron Man.
"I think that'd be fine by me," Steve agreed, looking back at the billionaire. "If you're up for it, Stark, I think everyone would get a kick out of it. A little friendly fight.
"Hm, fight huh? It won't even be a challenge." Tony scoffed before removing his helmet, guessing he wouldn't really need it at such close range. Truth was, he did respect Rogers as a fighter, and he knew that the super solder could do some damage. But he was Iron Man, even though his suit wasn't made of iron. Come on, how could anyone think that it was made of iron? Iron was so heavy...
Tony forced his mind back to what was going on. He was going up against Rogers. He would finally get the chance to punch him in that smug, perfect clean-shaven face of his. He was going to like this. Tony didn't even wait for Clint to say start, didn't even think to wait, he simply rose his hand and fired a blast straight at Rogers.
He was so arrogant, it was so infuriating, Steve could see why no one liked Tony St—
The man fired without any preamble, which Rogers thought was rather rude. That could actually hurt him. If, of course, it had actually hit him. While Steve wasn't the most agile of superheroes, he was fast. He could jump higher, run faster, and hit harder than anyone else, so it wasn't that much trouble to move out of the blast's way, even if he did cut it a bit close.
Now that he had the chance, Steve did throw the shield, aiming for Stark's head. Hitting him, though, wasn't the point – he just needed enough of a distraction to get in close range of the man. With hand to hand combat, he wouldn't have any problems bringing down Stark.
So that was what he tried for – immediately after his throw, he rushed forward, throwing a punch in Iron Man's direction.
Well shit. Hand to hand wasn't Tony's forte, wasn't anywhere near his strength. He made a mental note to work on it some time. The Captain had dodged his blast and then threw his shield at him. At his head, no less! While Tony was distracted sidestepping the shield, Rogers through a punch at him. It caught Tony off guard and pushed him back a bit, but he caught his balance again using his flight stabilizers.
He can't even fly, Tony thought, contemplating flying just out of Rogers' reach. Only that wouldn't be very sportsman like or fair. Instead, Tony sent a back hand in Rogers' direction.
It took longer than Rogers expected. Once he was close, he thought he could just take Stark down, but the man wasn't that easy. It actually took some more sparring, moving around, with the rest of the team taking bets, cracking jokes, and getting out of the way.
Eventually, though, Steve had the upper hand – he had Stark by the neck, fingers curling into his warm skin. He hadn't put his helmet back on, a move he was probably regretting now, because Steve had him. He leaned in close, smiling, though it was surprisingly not malicious. He wasn't like that, not really – even with his grip on the other's neck, his smile was amused and maybe even half-friendly. Now that he had won, maybe Stark would come back to Earth a bit, realise that he wasn't as crackerjack as he thought he was, and maybe they could get along. Steve thought he would like to get along with Stark. He was such a handsome—
—a really neat, smart guy, yeah. Because, no, he couldn't even think about where the first part of that thought came from.
And he didn't have to, because that was around the time Steve looked down and saw that Stark was pointing his… laser-things at his stomach. This close, it would kill him, if he fired. His smile fell, so quickly it was comic, like a kid who just had his candy taken away from him.
He looked back up at Stark with that look. "Oh."
It was Tony's turn to smile now when Steve's face fell. Sure, he didn't have the upper hand completely, but he still hadn't let himself be beaten. No one could beat him. Not even some super soldier from the past. He was Iron Man. There was something about having Rogers this close to him at all that was unnerving however. He could feel the tingle of Rogers' breathe across his skin and Rogers' cool hand around his warm neck. Surely he could feel how fast Tony's heart was beating. It wasn't from fear however; it was something else Tony couldn't quite place.
"Looks like we my have ourselves a good, old fashion draw." Tony smirked. Old fashioned, just like Rogers, but he was willing to admit (yet only to himself) there was a certain charm to that. He had a strange urge to dance his finger's along Rogers' belly, but instead just pressed him palm harder against his stomach. Wow, was that man in shape, even for being basically asleep for about seventy years. The competitive side of Tony made a mental note for him to work out more and spend less time sitting at the computer or work bench. Heck, maybe he could jog while typing out code.
He turned his attention back to Rogers, although not too much. He didn't want his heart to beat any faster with that funny feeling.
Steve's frown deepened, upset at the turn of events. He was going to be insufferable after this – even more than usual. "Well, that's because you've got that suit on you, I'd like to see what you can do without it on," he shot back, trying to lessen his pride.
However, when he thought about it, it could be taken that he wanted to see him without the suit, meaning without his clothes, which generally meant naked, which wasn't what Steve was trying to say nor what he had even thought about, but he was now, because it was at that moment Stark pressed his hand into Steve's stomach. His eyes flicked down a moment, then back up to look at Stark's face, wearing a confused expression. The fingers holding the man's neck lessened, no longer tight enough to be a threat, but he didn't move them.
"Get a room, will you?" Clint yelled, sarcastic and loud, reminding Steve that they weren't alone. Pointedly not looking at Stark, Steve stepped back, releasing his neck fully, now painfully aware of all the pairs of eyes upon them. Tony didn't blush, simply refused to allow his body to blush.
His eyes raked the room – Clint looked annoyed, Thor looked amused and knowledgeable, Bruce was unsure, Natasha looked terrifying as usual – and he wondered again how they would ever become a real, fighting team.Training. Drills. Practice, his mind told him, but he wasn't sure if he believed it. He glanced back over at Iron Man, wondering what his take was on the situation, and wondering about the man in general.
Once Rogers had released him, he took a deep breath, but made sure not to do so noisily. He could show no weakness. He was the team's leader, and he had to be strong. He shot Clint a meaningful, angry glare instead.
Tony then looked over to Rogers. "I am more than my suit." It was true. He was a living man with hopes and wishes and desires; the suit was just a bonus. He looked at his other teammates. How was he supposed to make them a real functioning team when he himself couldn't even work with others? It was overwhelming. He'd never been much of a worrier in any kind of situation, but dealing with people put him a little on edge. It was why he had Pepper for after all.
"Um... Good job." He said, patting Rogers' shoulder and trying to "take one for the team", so to speak. No one could say he wasn't trying to be a good leader.
Steve was even more confused when Stark patted his shoulder, watching him carefully – he didn't believe the man had actually changed, but instead was chalking it up to whatever had passed between them. Because there had been something, right? Steve thought he had felt something, though that was probably just wishful thinking.
Not that he was wishing for anything. Of course not.
Then Stark just walked out of the room, avoiding everyone's stares and longing for the comforts his machines offered him. That's more like him. Steve thought, left standing there, the unofficial second-in-charge, and the others looked at him. "It was a good practice," he said after a pause, and Hawkeye rolled his eyes.
"Alright, I'm out," he declared, carrying himself and his arrows out of the room. Natasha followed after him, not making eye contact with anyone, and Bruce went after, saying something about him having to get back to his books. He had thought of something, something important, and had to write it down.
Thor was the last to leave, but before he did, he patted Steve on the back. "You are a great warrior, my friend. I rank you among the best I know; Asgard would be pleased to have you." Then he winked and added, "And I am sure Antony Stark would, as well." He left him with that godly knowledge, before Steve could even process it.
"What?" Steve asked the lonely room, his voiced thought echoing slightly.
Alone in his lab, Tony finally felt a little more at ease. He was at home among his machines, not among people. What had happened between him and Rogers? Had anything even happened, or was it just his overactive imagination again? He couldn't really be sure. A mind like his never stopped, and it was tiring.
He was fiddling with something, he didn't even know what, and he saw Thor coming to the door. He didn't share the pass code to his workshop with anyone. Trying to keep up with the "good leader" antics, he forced himself to smile. Even though it was a smile, there must have been a certain venom to it as Thor's own smile disappeared and he lifted his hand to show he would come back at another time. Tony sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. Well, he was working on it, damn it.
He began rolling a pencil on his desk in frustration. Why did he even have one of those there? He couldn't remember the last time he had even used one of those, or saw a real piece of paper. He snapped the pencil in half. He had no use for it anyway.
He began playing virtual ping pong with his tongue.
When everyone left, Steve didn't. Instead, he went to a punching bag and started to pound on it, figuring he might get more of a workout. Besides, hitting something let out some frustration, and at least this way he wouldn't break anything.
Or so he thought. After a particularly powerful hit, the punching bag broke, pouring its contents onto the ground. "Dang it," he muttered, looking down at it, then around, unsure what he should do with it. After a second's thought, he picked it up and leaned it against the wall, planning on figuring out what to do with it later. Not wanting to break anything else, he left the training room and went to take a shower.
It wasn't a long one, though the warm water made him want to linger, and when he was finished he pulled on a grey t-shirt, stretched tight across his chest, and a pair of trousers. He was still feeling guilty, not so much about breaking it, but about not telling anyone. He felt like he was trying to hide it, which was cowardly, but the only person he could think of confessing to would be Stark, as it was his equipment, and that meant he had to actually talk to Stark.
Something he did not want to do.
Life was full of things Steve Rogers did not want to do, though, so after figuring out where he was – Thor was helpful there, though he added the man seemed "deep in thought" – he went to Stark's lab.
He got to the door, which wouldn't open, but he could see the man inside doing something – something that didn't look very productive. Frowning faintly and definitely not worried about interrupting him, he tapped on the door, lightly but loud enough to get Stark's attention.
The rap on the door startled Tony and he jumped straight up in his seat quickly. He looked over at the door, where Rogers was standing, this weird kind of little half-smile on his smooth, slightly puffed lips, his perfectly handsome face. Whoa, wait, what! Where the hell did that thought come from? Yeah, Rogers was a good looking guy, perhaps even better looking than Tony (although he would never admit it, not even to himself), but that was just because he was from the past, and they just didn't make people like him anymore.
Even though he really didn't like the guy, Steve couldn't help but kind of smile when he saw Stark jump up a little in surprise.
Tony held up his hands, making gestures he was rather sure didn't make any sense but trying to indicate that he wanted Rogers to wait for him to open the door.
While Stark's hand motions could mean a thousand different things, Steve figured it was 'wait there.'
He stood and went to the door. "What do you want?" He asked once the door was open. He didn't mean it to sound rude, but he couldn't think of any real reason that Rogers would want to see him. He opened the door and let Rogers into his lab, something he usually didn't do with people he didn't know very well, but he felt as if he could trust Rogers for some reason. Probably because the man was Captain America.
Steve tried not to frown too much, though, because Stark had a right to be rude to him – even though he didn't know that yet. He didn't answer right away, glancing around the lab, still surprised at the amount of technology and how much life had changed in seventy years. Then his eyes fell on the pencil and he picked it up, twisting both ends in his hand. "This was a good pencil. I could have thought of better uses for it than breaking it," he commented, then blushed, his ears even turning red and he looked apologetically at Stark.
"Um, that's actually why I wanted to see you, Stark. Not about the pencil, but I was using one of the punching bags and I broke it," he stated, laying it all on the table quickly, like ripping off a band aid. After a short pause, he added, "I'm sorry," and he looked it.
Tony raised an eyebrow. "You're seriously worried about that? Like I couldn't buy another one on the spot to replace it." Tony laughed a little, to himself at the silly idea of it all, not at Rogers. He really was an old fashioned kind of guy. Tony sat at his desk, putting his feet up onto it. "When I donated this place as headquarters, I was ready to put up with the price tag of having you guys around. I mean we've got Bruce around after all." Tony chuckled.
He looked at the broken pencil again. A million uses for that obsolete little thing huh? He'd like to see just one that was something his suit or phone couldn't do.
Stark's laugh surprised Steve because he hadn't been expecting that. "I—Oh," he said after a second, holding back You should probably be more frugal with your money, but that made it sound like he wanted to be yelled at, which didn't make any sense. "Alright, that's good then. I'm glad I… I'm glad you can replace it."
He stood there, awkwardly, twisting the pencils in his hands, though he was treating them more gently than he treated most other objects. He looked down at them for a moment, then back at Stark, then around again – unsure, realising that he should probably go, but he had been expecting the meeting to be longer, and now it felt strange to leave so early.
Suddenly, Tony grinned. "Want to see something cool?" Without waiting for an answer from the Captain, he called up a program on his computer. He'd been expecting a man from over seventy years in the past to be a little out of date, so he had been working on something to get him a little more back up to speed with some things. "I heard from a little birdie that you like to dance, so I just whipped this up while procrastinating." He moved a couple of things around in front of him quickly. "What did they do in your age? Like, swing or something?" He still didn't wait for an answer but rather started up the program. Footprints with numbers inside them appeared on the floor.
"It teaches you how to dance, any kind of dance you want. Feel free to use it whenever you want."
Steve watched him, confused, wondering what the man could be talking about. When he found out, though, it was the last thing he could have expected. "You… You would do this for me?" he asked, a bit breathlessly, because that was rather amazing - he thought that Stark detested him. Or, well, at least, he thought Stark wasn't into pleasing anyone but himself, but this… this was amazing.
He looked down at the floor, faintly confused at what to do, because he already knew how to dance like he had – but Stark was proposing learning new dances. It hadn't been what he had been hoping before, but it was close, and for some reason it fit. Steve wanted the past, but Stark was the future, and Steve thought he was okay with that, or would be at some point.
"Thank you," he said, truthfully, but then added more unsure, "I'd love to try it out now, if I could, only… I need a dance partner." Which was something he shouldn't have said, because a man didn't ask another man to dance, especially when the first man was not into dancing with men. But he had said it, and he didn't take it back, just waited for Stark to reply.
Tony blushed. Shit, he just couldn't control it this time. He guess he actually had done something for Rogers. It was just meant to be something to distract him from his usual workload. It wasn't supposed to be a gift or anything like that. His ears were hot and burning fiercely. What was this?
And then Rogers was asking him to dance. Well... it felt like that was what he was doing. Tony couldn't really be sure. He cleared his throat. "Um... I guess I could do it just this once." He cleared his throat again. Damn his mouth was getting so dry. Didn't he have any water laying around? He stood up, pushing his chair back and standing kind of awkwardly, staring at Rogers.
Stark was blushing, which made Steve feel simultaneously better and more embarrassed, because that meant he wasn't the only one feeling awkward about it, but it also meant they had something to be awkward about: Steve had really just asked him to dance. He tried to separate that, make that into a friendly gesture, and in some situations it was - he had danced with men before, his buddies, when they were joking around.
This didn't feel like joking, though, and Tony wasn't his buddy. The dancing Steve wanted to do involved touching and looking into his eyes, which wasn't what buddies did.
He swallowed, then stepped forward, and did something that shocked him: he slipped one hand onto Stark's waist, the other into his hand. Setting up like how he used to dance. He looked down at the other man, smiling just faintly, and said, "What dance, Stark?"
Tony couldn't believe what was happening. Rogers was touching him, holding his hand and with an arm around his waist. "Why don't you pick? I don't know what you're used to." Tony looked away, refusing to meet Rogers' eyes. "Just say the name of the song or kind of dance and JARVIS will start something up for us."
His mind was racing. Was this really happening? Surely he must be dreaming... But if this was a dream, would he want it to be a fantasy or a nightmare. At that moment, he couldn't really tell.
"I thought I was the one that was supposed to be learning new things? Now you're going to be learning something old," Steve commented, and for some reason he was calming down. He hadn't expected this, but he was going to take advantage of it.
"'I'll Be Seeing You,'" Steve said, louder than necessary, hoping that somehow his request would be heard. He looked up towards the ceiling, as if something would be hanging there waiting to start a record, and he only lowered his eyes back to Stark when the music started playing. He smiled, remembering the song, and he began to move, leading Tony, and ignoring the directions on the floor completely.
Tony wasn't much of a dancer. He never really had been. He loved parties and good times, but when you were as rich and quick witted as he was, you didn't have to dance to be the life of the party. He stumbled clumsily to keep up with Rogers' movements. "Maybe I like more old things than you know." Tony resisted the urge to wink. That would make everything way too awkward, right? He wondered why Rogers' had chosen that particular song. What did it mean to him? About him? For the situation? Or was it just the first song that came to his mind.
"Sorry I'm not the most agile of dance partners." He smiled a sly, shy little smile, but his charm was full on. He wasn't ready to abandon his public face: not here, not now.
Steve was trying not to laugh, because watching Stark dance was kind of hilarious. He went slower than he would usually, trying to guide him with faint pressure on his side and hand, and they were dancing, if not as eloquently as possible.
When Stark spoke, though, Steve's eyebrows raised, because that sounded very close to something Steve wasn't going to think about, and he wasn't sure how he was supposed to respond. Instead, he replied to the next comment, "You're doing fine." And he was, just by doing this at all – suddenly Steve was feeling a lot less stressed and upset.
The song wasn't long and it was over before he wanted it to be, but even after the room went quiet, he kept hold on Stark. Tony. His name was Tony. "When you said 'just once,' did you mean it?" he asked, quietly.
Tony looked down, a little shy once again, charm draining from him like water from a leaky sink. "I did when I said it but now... Well I was just starting to enjoy myself." Tony smiled and let Steve continue to hold him. They were close now, close enough for first names. One dance, and their relationship felt completely altered, but it felt as if it was for the better. Tony let his guard done for one second, one critical moment, and laid his head on Steve's shoulder. By the time he noticed what he had done, he was too comfortable to move. Tony put his head on Steve's shoulder and he adjusted himself, releasing Tony's hand to wrap his arms loosely around him, pulling him a bit closer.
Steve swallowed again and he was blushing, but smiling, and for some reason this was okay, which was weird. He was sure, seventy years ago, he had been very much interested in a gal and suddenly there was Tony Stark, who was definitely not a gal. But, for some reason, he was fine with that. The music started up again, this time "Always" by Frank Sinatra, as JARVIS seemed to know what to do without needing to be told. Maybe Steve could get used to that after all.
This time, he wasn't trying to make Tony dance, just sway slightly, holding him, because he wasn't sure what was going to happen when he let go. He wanted to make the moment last. "I am, too. Enjoying myself. I haven't danced in a long time."
Tony could smell Steve at this distance, with this slowness. He couldn't smell him earlier in all the excitement. Steve smelled old: not old in the way the elderly do, but aged and exotic, like a fine wine. The rise and fall of Steve's chest was intoxicating and relaxing. He liked the feeling of Steve's arms around him. Tony closed his eyes, listening to the music and absorbed in the moment. It was rare that he stopped to take a breath like this, stopped living and simply allowed himself to feel. Yet he was perfectly comfortable doing it around Steve for some reason.
All those women, all those nights, none of them had fulfilled him. None of them had left him so completely and utterly content as he felt in that moment. Not even Pepper who Tony had thought he was completely in love with for a time, and then their relationship had turned to shit. "I've never really danced, not like this." Tony admitted. "It's nice."
"I'm glad," Steve replied, then pressed his lips against Tony's head. His hair felt weird against his face, but he didn't mind, and it was warm. Soft. He closed his eyes and pictured that it was Peggy he was dancing with, but it didn't fit, and he opened his eyes again.
"I think I was wrong about you," he told him, using a hand to lift Tony's chin, looking back in his eyes. "You aren't that horrible." He paused a moment, blushing a bit even though he had no intention of stopping, then continued, "I promise my intentions are honourable, but I think I want to kiss you now. Is that okay?"
"Oh not that horrible huh?" Tony chuckled, but he was kissing Steve before he could really register what he was doing, thinking, when have social standards and ideas stopped me from doing what I've wanted? It was New York after all, right? It felt so right. More right than almost anything he had done before in his life. He couldn't believe he was kissing a man: kissing Steve, of all men! But he needed it, almost like he needed water or air.
Tony's answer was to kiss him, which Steve couldn't complain about, but it was a lot quicker than he had been expecting. A lot rougher. Tony liked things fast and hard; Steve, slow and sweet. But he didn't know how to slow it down now, so he matched the other's speed, pushing his face closer to touch, taste more.
Kissing a guy was different than kissing a girl. Tony was stronger, more confident, and his facial hair brushed against Steve's smooth face. It prickled and Tony wasn't a woman, he was a man, and Steve just hoped that they treated homosexuals better in this century because, heck, this was not straight at all.
JARVIS' voice broke them apart. "Someone is approaching sir," the voice said and Steve jumped back, because that wasn't how he wanted people to find out about them, if there was a 'them,' because Tony's reputation hinted that this might be a onetime thing. He didn't look around, just wiped his mouth and ran his fingers through his hair, nervous and trying not to look like he had just made out with Iron Man.
Tony shuffled his feet and stared at them, looking for all the world like a child being punished. He didn't look at Steve, didn't want to talk to him. Not because he regretted what he did, just because... Because... Well, just because. He didn't exactly know why himself.
Bruce appeared at the door after a moment. Bruce was fun to tease and easy to pick on, but other than that, Tony didn't really know much about the guy. He worked on the opposite side of the science spectrum.
Tony went to the door and opened it, but he didn't allow Bruce in. It wouldn't have felt right. "Do you need something?" Tony didn't try very hard to hide his obvious annoyance.
"Um... No." It was Bruce, Steve could tell by his voice although he couldn't see the other man, and that made him turn around about halfway, still looking uncomfortable.
What the hell? How can you go to someone's lab and not need anything?
"I mean, I can come back later if you're busy." Bruce titled his head around Tony to look at Steve. Steve shrugged, trying to act nonchalant and offering a small smile, hoping Bruce didn't pick up on what happened.
"Yes." Tony closed the door and walked back to his desk. Bruce looked confused for a few seconds before going back upstairs. Steve waited until Bruce was well out of earshot, not knowing the glass walls were sound proof, then gave Tony a hard look. "That was rude," he admonished, some of his previous annoyance sneaking into his tone. He didn't leave, though. Instead he crossed his arms, trying to be calm about this, because he was not going to freak out. He had gone this long without freaking out, he'd be damned if he broke his record now. "So, are we going to talk about, uh, this?" he asked, having a hand in front of him to indicate where they danced and kissed.
"What's there to talk about?" Tony asked, mindlessly fiddling with something on his computer. Truth was, there was plenty to talk about, but he just didn't want to talk about it. He wouldn't know what to say. He never did, even in straight situations. That's why he always left before his conquests woke.
Sometimes it was just better to pretend things didn't happen. That's how it ended up with him and Pepper too. People weren't mistakes, he was.
He tried his hardest to not think too hard about it.
"What's there-? Tony, I—" Steve stopped, then sighed, again messing with his hair, just to have something to do with his hands. After a minute collecting his thoughts, weighing the possibilities and outcomes, he finally nodded. He wasn't smiling anymore, because he thought he knew what Tony was thinking, and he didn't like it, not at all.
"I get it. It's okay. You don't want to… You are Tony Stark, I understand, your reputation," he was saying, which didn't make much sense to him, but he didn't know how else to put it. "We'll just forget about it." He nodded again, because nodding helped, nodding made him feel like he could handle it. He held out his hand. "Though I hope we can lessen the animosity between us. You're still not a bad guy, really."
"It has nothing to do with my reputation." Tony snapped, upset that he had been misunderstood, yet again. "It happened and it was real." His emotions were raging within him like tidal waves against a rocky shore. Impulsively, he grabbed Steve and pulled him in for another kiss; furious, hard, and needy. He needed Steve to understand this. He let him go and rushed out of the lab to his garage.
He needed to think. He needed to drink. He needed to think while having a drink. He hopped into one of his cars and drove, far away from his home, from the lab, and from that wonderful man standing in his lab he had kissed.
Steve's eyes widened, surprised at Tony's outburst, because he had though he was doing the man a favour. Apparently, he had thought wrong. He didn't know Stark very well, but to be honest, whenever he tried to get closer, Tony would make some dismissing joke or storm out – much like he did this time.
This time, however, he said farewell with a kiss, which was something Steve thoroughly enjoyed. Still too fast, too rough – but he didn't have time to do anything. Tony was gone. He blinked, standing there, wondering what to do.
Then, "JARVIS?"
"Yes, Captain Rogers?"
Steve was never going to get used to that. "Where's Tony?"
"He has taken a car. He will probably be going to get intoxicated, knowing Mr. Stark." Steve frowned, concerned both that Tony was going to be drinking, and also that a machine could know something like that.
After a moment more, Steve left the lab – he didn't follow Tony. They both needed time to think, and it wasn't like they were never going to see each other again. They did live in the same house, after all.
The night was a wild blur for Tony: bright colors, flashing lights, and faces without names. He drank and he drank heavily. He was a man with a mission and nothing would stop him.
What did Steve know about him? Nothing, that's what. How could Steve have been there feeling him kiss him and not know what it meant? You didn't kiss just anyone like that. Especially not a man.
He arrived back home very late and very drunk. He could barely stumble in through the door and upon trying to climb the stairs to his room, gave up after about seven steps and simply laid there.
Fuck everything. Fuck the Avengers. Fuck the house. Fuck the stairs. Fuck Steve too.
Now there's an idea, he thought before he blacked out and had any time to analyze where the thought had come from.
Steve didn't sleep much, he didn't have to. After he became a super soldier, he didn't need many hours to feel rested. Some nights he got more than others, but after the day he had, he couldn't even get to sleep. Instead, he took advantage of the training room, which had been pre-smashed after Bruce Hulked out, so he didn't feel bad when he destroyed it further.
It was late when he finished up, coming out of the showers and heading to the stairs. Tony was still running through his thoughts, and he kept practicing over and over again what he was going to say when they saw each other tomorrow.
Or tonight, as the case may be. Steve reached the stairs but he couldn't actually go up them, because there was the source of his distress, passed out. "Tony," he whispered urgently, shaking him lightly, but he didn't move – but he was breathing and reeked of alcohol, so Steve pieced together the story without the other's input.
"God, Tony, I'm so sorry." Steve wrapped his arms around the other man, lifting him up – he couldn't just leave him there. He carried him up the stairs, then stopped, realising that he didn't actually know where Tony slept. He hadn't been paying much attention, just knowing the general direction, but there were so many rooms in this house. He could probably ask JARVIS, but he had had enough talking to the AI for one day.
So, Steve did the only thing he could do: he carried Tony to his own room, where he pulled off his shoes, tucked him in, and then crawled in next to him. Hopefully Tony didn't have a panic attack when he woke up.
Steve hadn't gotten to sleep for at least half an hour after he brought Tony to bed. He hadn't touched the man, because that would be wrong, but he had watched him. That made him feel creepy, too, but he couldn't help it. Tony looked nice when he slept, more peaceful than he did when he was awake, and Steve fell asleep to the sound of the other's breathing.
The light hurt Tony's eyes, so he closed them. He attempted to roll over onto his stomach in order to block out the light more effectively, but there was someone next to him.
Oh god, Tony thought, what have I done?
How could he have done this? After kissing Steve, just becoming a total dirt bag by bringing a strange woman home that very same night. And what if she was ugly? That would be an even bigger slap in the face, for both of them. He opened his eyes slowly, allowing them to adjust to the light, head pounding. He peeked over at the person besides him.
It was Steve.
Oh god, Tony thought again, what have I done?
His horror didn't arise from the fact that he was besides Steve. It came from the fact that if he had actually done anything with Steve, he couldn't remember any of it. It was the closest had ever been to actually feeling regret in this kind of situation. He remembered thinking "Fuck Steve", and now he was wondering if he had actually followed through with that thought. He had to know.
"Steve," he said softly while nudging the sleeping Avenger, "hey."
Steve woke up to Tony's voice. Steve frowned, eyes still closed, because it was too early, even for him. He didn't want to wake up, but someone was nudging him, which meant he probably should, so he forced his eyes open and looked at Tony.
Oh, right, Tony. Steve winced at the memory, because he was sure he was about to be yelled at, but tried to turn the reaction into a smile. "Oh, hey, Tony," he murmured back, before giving a yawn and stretching his arms above him. "Uh, how's your head? Feeling better?"
Tony's head was swimming, and it wasn't just the hangover. "What happened?" He need to know and his voice sounded urgent. In a sense, it was urgent. If he had to wait much longer to figure out the events from last night, he was sure to go insane.
Well, he wasn't yelling, that was a good sign. But he didn't remember. Honestly, that was probably also a good thing. "I, uh, found you passed out on the stairs," he explained, giving him an understanding smile. "I brought you to my room because… because I didn't know where your room was." He paused, then actually registered the urgency in the other man's voice. "Wait, what did you think happened?"
"Nothing." Tony turned away from Steve in order to conceal his blushing. Of course that's all that happened. Steve was honorable and a little goody two-shoes who played by the rules. He wouldn't have taken advantage of Tony's vulnerable state, and he wouldn't have let Tony do anything that could even possibly become a regret.
Why did he even think that anything had happened? He still had all his clothes on. Was it just wistful thinking?
That was a suspicious answer. Frowning, Steve reached out, grabbing the other's chin with his fingers. He turned his face towards him, forcing the other to look at him. "No, really, Tony, what did you think?" he asked, and then it hit him. "O-oh. Did you… Did you think we…fondued?" Now he was blushing and that didn't even make sense, not to Stark.
Tony smiled at the use of the word. "My father would sometimes tell me bedtime stories about you, when I was very young. You were just a fantasy then, but now here you are, a reality." Tony put his hand on Steve's chest as if to feel him and make sure he really was there. "I get the reference. It was one of the things my father would always laugh about from his younger years."
Steve smiled as he felt Tony's hand, pressing his own on top of his. "Well, well that's embarrassing," Steve chuckled sheepishly – that was such an awkward moment from his past, and Tony knew it now. Howard had told him. Steve, of course, knew that Howard was Tony's father but… but sometimes he forgot. Sometimes he expected Howard, Peggy, and Bucky to be waiting for him just in the next room, but they weren't, and never would be again.
"I thought something might have happened... You must know what it's like with alcohol." Surely Steve must drink, or at least had drunk in his days before taking the title of Captain America.
Luckily Steve didn't have too long to linger on the thoughts of his friends, because Tony's next comment made Steve's eyebrows raise. "Oh, uh, I know, but I don't really have first-hand experience. I mean, I got drunk before, but I never slept with anyone like that. Then, after I became Captain America, I couldn't get drunk." But he nodded and leaned forward, kissing Tony's forehead. "But it's okay, I know what you mean. Just… Just please tell me you didn't drive yourself home."
"The car practically drives itself." Tony replied. It wasn't like he hadn't driven drink before. He was basically a pro, and besides, he was obviously fine.
He didn't want a lecture. Not right now when his head was already pounding, so he decided to distract Steve with a kiss. He tried something a little different this time. Instead of going in hard and fast, as was his usually style, he gingerly brushed his lips against Steve's. They were barely touching, mouths slightly apart. Their lips moved slowly, touching and feeling one another's.
It was a good thing Tony started kissing him, because he was definitely preparing for a lecture. Steve smiled against the other's lips, bringing his hand up to cup his cheek. This was nice. This was comfortable, intimate, and he liked this. Going this slow, he could actually taste him.
Tony broke the kiss for some air and give Steve a wink. When Tony pulled away, Steve was still smiling. "So, this is a thing, huh?" he murmured, slipping a hand around Tony's waist. "I'd be okay, if this is a thing." He gave him another kiss, a bit deeper, but it didn't last as long. "I've never had a thing with a guy before. Just gals. Have you ever… have you even fondued," here he smiled, because now it was their shared joke, "with a man before?"
Tony didn't know what kind of "thing" Steve meant, but he was fine with just this. He didn't want to over analyze it, think too much about it too much because then that would ruin the moment. He liked the deeper kiss. It was short, but nice and he wished they could do it again but they were talking now and he supposed he should listen and respond.
Tony shook his head. "No, I haven't. I've never even kissed a guy before you." It was a bit weird to be having this conversation, but if there was anyone he wanted to be having it with, it was Steve.
Steve's eyebrows raised, surprised at the answer. He had heard about Stark's exploits, and he had been sure he would have done… something with a man. After thinking it over, though, he had to smile. "Then I'm your first," he said, prouder than he should be about it. "And you're mine, of course, first man."
He brushed a thumb over Tony's cheek, thinking of a thousand questions to ask, but, in the end, decided not to ask any. Instead, he leaned in, taking another kiss, because he didn't want to talk any more. They could figure out the details later.
Steve tasted wonderful and exotic. Maybe exotic wasn't the right word, but Tony was sure that there was no one else in the world that tasted like him.
He ran his hands over Steve's chest and back before finally deciding to just wrap his arms around the other man and pull him closer. He felt as if he wanted to melt into Steve and be as close as he could to him. Excitement ran through his veins every time Steve kissed him, and he was glad that they didn't have to talk about everything, not right away at least. He just wanted to be there kissing Steve forever.
Steve came from a time where people didn't go so fast. They went – if someone said that they thought the youth of the 40s were celibate, he would have laughed in their face – but they didn't go this close, this heavy, this quickly. They had only met not too long ago, and they had only stopped hating each other, what, yesterday? They should stop.
That was the reasonable part of Steve's brain, though, and it wasn't the one he was listening to now. Tony was holding him close, kissing him deeply. Steve pushed him back, going on top of him, a leg on either side. It was a move based more on instant than on practice, and he looked surprised for a moment, before figuring if Tony didn't like it he would speak up, then went back to kissing him, deeper now that he had easier access.
Tony wasn't used to people being on top of him, no matter what the context. He was always on top and in control. That's just how things were for him. Steve on top of him brought a multitude of new feelings to him, but they weren't so bad, just different. He almost liked this feeling of vulnerability being pinned aroused in him. He slipped his hands around the back of Steve's neck and pushed him closer. He needed to taste and feel more of him. He just couldn't get enough of wonderful Steve Rogers, of Captain America.
He wondered how Steve felt about the whole thing, what he thought. Did he think that everyone was like this? Things like this were normal in Tony's time, but in Steve's... well, who knows what kind of experiences Steve had had before. He seemed like he knew more or less what to do, and Tony liked that.
Oh, so, Steve was hard. That was interesting. He had been building up to that point since they started making out, but when Tony pulled him down, he felt it even more, jerking his hips before he realised what he was doing. When he did realise, though, his cheeks reddened.
"Uh, Tony?" he murmured, breaking their kiss for a moment. "We should probably," here was another kiss, like he couldn't stay away from the man for longer than a few seconds at a time, "stop soon because," another kiss, "I mean, you know," another, "and besides, it's getting late," one more, "and we've got things to do."
Responsibility. That was something that Tony had never been very good or familiar with. It wasn't something that he particularly liked either, but he was reminded of it when Steve said they had "things to do." The only thing that he wanted to do was lay there with Steve on top of him, kissing, perhaps even taking it a little bit further...
"Do you want to stop?" He kissed Steve some more, trying to convince him to stay, to let go of responsibility for the day.
Steve's eyes closed for a second, leaning into the kiss, wanting more. "No," he murmured, and he almost let himself cave, let himself be wrapped in Tony's arms and just spend the rest of the day there. The team wouldn't notice for hours, he was sure, it would be fine.
Then Steve's pants became uncomfortably tight and he was reminded that, right, the team wasn't his real reason for leaving. "But we've got to," he insisted, maneuvering himself free. He fell back to his side of the bed, pulling the blanket over his lap. "What if they come looking for us?"
"They won't come." Tony insisted, practically pouncing on top of Steve. Tony was used to getting his way, one way or another, and he wasn't about to let Steve weasel out of this so easily. Now on top of Steve, he pressed his body and his lips harder against him. That was when he noticed...
"Oh, my God, Tony," Steve said, exasperated, because the man really didn't understand what 'we've got to go' meant. But that was all he got out before they were kissing again and Steve found it really hard to actually focus on anything other than how he tasted, how he felt, how he smelt.
"Oh." Tony said, not quite sure what else to say. This was new to him. He'd never had to worry about any one else's erection but his own. He wasn't quite sure what to do, and that bothered him a little. He pulled the blanket from between himself and Steve in order to be sure that he was really feeling what he thought he was feeling. "Oh." He said again, sitting on Steve's legs and looking down to where his pants were stretched tight. He hadn't really noticed Steve becoming so excited, but as he thought about the fact that he had caused it, he felt himself begin to swell slightly too.
And that was when Tony stopped being a moron and realised what Steve had known for five minutes. His face was red now and he was frowning faintly, wanting to ask him isn't there anything else in your vocab? But none of that came out because he started moving, and instead Steve moaned, "Oh my God, Tony," jerking his hips up just a bit before he got himself under control. "You… you see why we've got to go now?" he asked, trying not to look at him, because that wouldn't help their current situation.
Tony's face fell and he looked confused. "But... But why?" He didn't understand why Steve wanted to leave... It wouldn't really resolve the problem at hand, and it wasn't really a problem to begin with. "We don't have to go..." Tony turned Steve's face so that they were looking at each other right in the eyes, and then he gave Steve another kiss, soft and gentle. "We don't have to go." He repeated.
Why, Tony was asking why, and Steve was again about to explain just that when Tony interrupted him. He would have complained about that – really, it was becoming a bad habit – but seeing as he really did like it, it didn't feel right to mention it.
This time, when the kiss broke, Steve didn't suddenly pull away or mutter another excuse to leave. Obviously, Tony knew what he was doing, knew what he was getting into, and that gave Steve enough confidence to ask, if quietly, "And what're we going to do if we stay, Tony?"
Tony blushed. He hadn't expected the question. He never had to deal with this sort of thing with women. They knew, more or less, what was going to happen. But here... this was all different, all new. And even he wasn't sure what was going to happen, not exactly. He decided to dispel some of the tension by bringing up their private joke once again. "Well, we can fondue?" Tony grinned, a lopsided grin that showed off his perfectly straight white teeth.
Steve grinned back, though he was even redder than Tony, and he put his hands on the other's face. "Hilarious," he said, almost laughing, and then it hit him exactly what that meant. And that Tony was probably—
"You're serious?" Steve said, wanting to clarify, his eyes widening slightly. "We… We haven't even gone on a date, I haven't even…" But he was thinking about it now, his hands going to grip Tony's thighs. "You're sure you want to?"
Tony was a little confused again, but he was starting to think that this was just natural. "We can date first if you want. Chocolate, romance, flowers, the whole nine yards. But..." He turned away, looking around the room as if his surroundings would give him the words he sought. "But... Maybe romance within the team wouldn't be such a good idea." He looked back at Steve, staring him straight in the eye. He wanted Steve to know that he truly did want to do it with every fiber of his being. If there was any man that he wanted to sleep with, it was definitely Steve.
Steve's smile grew with each new word, because he could picture all of that, and it seemed like a nice life – then the 'but' happened, and it was Steve turn to be confused. Sure, yeah, fine, he understood that relationships with people you work with is generally a bad idea, but… But it wasn't like he wanted anyone else. Hell, even if he did, he couldn't see himself dragging him or her through the superhero life.
He leaned forward, giving Tony a kiss, before saying, "Then what should we do? If romance is off limits, what're we doing here? Are we just fon…" No, he was nearly ninety years old, he could say it: "Fucking. Are we just fucking, Tony?"
Tony shook his head. "That's not what I want." He sighed. "I've been in one relationship before, and I really screwed it up. I never really wanted to be in one afterwards. I thought I would be better off alone, but with you it just feel so right." He looked sad as he said this, almost deflated. "I've winded and dined women I sure as hell didn't give a damn about. I care about you, Steve. You don't deserve any less than they do." He ran his fingers through his hair, fidgeting. "I just don't know what to do."
Steve, honestly, couldn't help but smile. "Wow, the great Tony Stark," he murmured, sitting up and leaning close to his face, "isn't sure what to do. I guess I should be proud? Seems like an accomplishment." He tilted his head slightly, eyeing the other man's face, before settling on staring at his eyes. "The Tony Stark I know just does whatever he wants, devil may care. What would that Tony Stark do?"
"This." Tony grabbed Steve and kissed him long and deep. Steve was right. Tony did do what he wanted, no matter what anyone else thought. He took what he wanted and he took it hard and fast. But, if he was being honest here, Tony also didn't play very nice with others. He wasn't a team player in any sense of the phrase. The other parts could come later if he felt like it, but for now all Tony needed was for Steve to kiss him back.
Steve's eyes widened a bit, then, as the surprise lessened, he kissed back, smiling as much as he could. He had been expecting something like that, but it still surprised him that Tony could be so forward, not to mention so into him. Steve had had women falling over themselves for him, but, well, they were different. Tony… Tony could have whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and for some reason he picked Steve.
He broke away for just a second. "I want this, too." And then he kissed him again, pulling his face closer.
Without thinking, Tony began running his hands all over Steve's body. It just felt natural. Steve himself felt exactly like what Tony thought a man should: soft skin over hard muscle. Tony ran his fingers along the creases of Steve's muscles. His fingertips fit perfectly into the creases just as Steve fit perfectly into his arms.
The whole thing was so different, so new to him. He'd never actually cared about anyone, not really. He had thought he did, once, but even that was just... He didn't even really know what that was either. The countless women he had slept with were all faceless and nameless. He'd stopped numbering them a long time ago too: they didn't even deserve that, and he'd lost count too.
Tony was getting worked up as he thought about the man in his arms. He kissed Steve deeper.
Things had cooled down while they were talking, but now they were heating up again, quicker than before. Tony wanted this – Tony Stark wanted him – and that made him feel good. He thought that talking to Howard's son would make him nostalgic and sad, but it didn't. It reminded him of the past and made him look forward to a future.
Steve was moving before he really thought about it, pushing Tony back into the mattress, wanting to be on top again. He broke the kiss for a moment, as if surprised at his own actions, and then continued – except now, he was placing his lips on other places. He kissed his neck, softly, and then rougher, sucking and giving little bites because he remembered his boys telling him that's what girls liked. Tony wasn't a girl, but maybe he would like it anyway.
Tony liked it rough. Oh god how he liked it rough. So when Steve began kissing and biting at his neck, it was all he could do to keep himself from going insane with desire. He liked that Steve had taken control as well. It was rare that Tony had someone who would challenge him for control in such a way, and most of the time he just found it annoying. He pushed Steve close against him, pressing his fingertips hard against Steve's back. Words couldn't describe his intense desire at that moment. He kissed Steve harder than he had before, their tongues and breathes mingling. When they had first started to kiss, Steve's mouth had been warmer than Tony's, but now they were the same temperature.
Tony decided to take a risk and began to slip Steve's shirt over his head.
Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea, Steve kept repeating in his mind because it really, really was. They shouldn't be doing this, what if someone came in, what if it was awkward after this? They should stop. Definitely stop.
In a little bit, he decided, letting Tony lift his shirt up a bit. The other was doing it slowly, though, like he was worried Steve was going to stop him, and that amused Steve enough to sit up, tug off the shirt himself, and then go back on Tony, kissing his lips again and sliding his own hands under the other's shirt.
Feeling his body, Steve moved upward and soon enough he felt the arc reactor. Confused, he pushed up the shirt, looking at the odd looking thing. He had forgotten about it, honestly, and it was surprising now. "If I touch your chest," he asked, fingers gently pressing the skin around it, "does it hurt?"
Tony hadn't really been with anyone since the arc reactor had been implanted in his chest, not anyone who wouldn't think it rude to mention it, that is. It was such a natural part of him now, he didn't expect for Steve to say anything about it. "No," he said in response to Steve's question. He grabbed Steve's hand and put it over the arc reactor. "Think of it as my heart, just on the outside. It's as cold as my heart is made out to be." He grins.
He kissed Steve again, just to let him know that everything was alright. And it was alright. Tony truly believed that.
"That doesn't really reassure me, I shouldn't be touching your heart," Steve said, laughing, but he didn't moved his hand away. It didn't feel like skin, but it felt like Tony. He kissed him back, deeper, then went down to kiss the skin around the arc reactor.
"Maybe it's about time someone touched my heart." Tony winked. When Steve kissed the area around the reactor, Tony couldn't help but smile. It felt nice, not in an exciting or physical kind of way, but in a mental kind of way. It satisfied him to know that Steve accepted his little imperfection. He had a gaping hole in his chest and yet Steve still wanted him. It made him strangely sentimental, and he had to work hard to keep those emotions in check in the intense moment.
Steve smiled into Tony's skin, because that was such a cheesy line, but for some reason it was okay. It was Tony. Everything he did was okay."Tony," he said after a few seconds, looking up. He was blushing again, but smiling. "I don't, uhm, do this a lot, you know. What do you like? What do you… do you want me to do, Tony?" When he felt Tony hold him closer, Steve looked at him, waiting for an answer.
He was a little shocked when Steve asked him what he liked. He liked a lot of things, but he had never done any of them with a man. He wasn't really sure if it would be the same. Surely being with a man was much different than being with a woman. He held Steve close to him as he contemplated the best answer to the question. With a grin Tony said, "I would like you to surprise me." Because he didn't care what Steve did, as long as Steve did it and they were there together.
Steve rolled his eyes. "That's completely unhelpful, Tony," he murmured, but he pulled off the man's shirt regardless. He ran his fingers over his chest and arms, feeling his muscles, his skin, the hairs and bumps. It was completely different than touching a woman. Tony was not soft and smooth, but rough and older.
And then Steve went farther. He started kissing Tony again, more to distract himself from thinking than anything else, as he slipped his hands down to his pants, pressing his hand against his crotch. "Is this okay?" he asked, though he continued to touch and grope, without pause.
Tony couldn't suppress the moan bubbling up onto his lips as Steve touched him. He nodded in response to Steve's question. "Yes, that's fine." He sighed. "Is there anything you want me to do?" He still wasn't sure how to be with a man, what he should do. He was sure Steve didn't really know either and was falling back on some other, basic, primal instincts.
He rubbed his hands over Steve's back, feeling every inch of him as he kissed at his neck. His fingers traced a line down Steve's back and his palm came to rest on Steve's bottom. It was nice. It was nicer than anything Tony had felt in a long time. Tony kissed Steve on his lips once more, hungry for more of the other man's taste and tongue. His head span with the euphoria of it all and he kissed Steve harder.
Steve grinned at the moan, glad that he could make Tony make that sound. "Just do what you're doing," he murmured back, shaking his head slightly without moving far from the other's lips.
He liked the feeling of Tony, just Tony, and he was sure he would be fine with just kissing him for a while longer. However, now he had gotten it into his head, his hand still lingering near the other's groin, and so he slipped a few fingers in the waistband, tugging the pants down. Just a little.
"Found something for you to do," he murmured happily. "If you wouldn't mind, you should take off the rest of your clothes."
Tony liked the adventurous side of Steve that he was seeing. He sat up in the bed, back against the headboard. He obliged to the other's request, sliding his pants and underwear down down down past his thighs, knees, ankles. There it was. He was "stark naked" in front of Steve Rogers. A little voice in his head told him he was taking things too far too fast. Another scolded him for "dipping the pen in the company ink" so to speak. He didn't listen to either of the voices; what he was doing, just being there with Steve. It all just felt so right.
Steve still had his pants on, but Steve's upper body looked as if it was sculpted. Tony liked to think he was in pretty good shape, but Steve's body could put anyone to shame, and Tony longed to see more of it. He reached out, unbuckled Steve's belt, and began tugging at it, sliding it from it's place in his belt loops. He threw the belt off the side of the bed. Pulling Steve closer to him where he sat, Tony kissed him while his hands worked on removing Steve's pants.
Steve helped Tony with his quest to get him completely undressed, pulling his pants off, letting them pool around his ankles and pressing himself closer to Tony all the while. He couldn't break apart from the other man, didn't want this to ever stop. A flat-palmed hand explored Tony's chest while the other one went to Tony's now exposed member. He was worried about actually touching it: he'd never done anything like this and it's almost a bit intimidating. He rarely even touched himself...
But the natural confidence that Steve was born with took over and Steve gripped Tony's erection and began stroking and groping gently, causing small gasps and moans to escape from the other man. One of Tony's hands wrapped around Steve's neck, making sure to keep him pressed close. Tony let his other hand wander down Steve's chest, slowly tracing a trail as it made its way downward to the real prize. Wrapping slender fingers around the thick erection, Tony began to stroke. He had no idea what Steve liked, but he varied what he did, hoping to excite some kind of reaction in Steve and figure out what he liked best from there.
Steve arched into Tony's touch, gasping into his mouth as they continue their kiss. He stroked Tony as well, matching the other man's pace and actions as best as he can, mirroring him. The pair continued on for a few moments, delighting in the touch and feel of one another, the new sensations tingling at their nerve endings and running up their spines. Tony's hand left Steve's member and his mouth broke the kiss, pulling away with a smirk before he was pushing Steve back against the bed, giving him another kiss. It was a short one, and then he's kissing and licking down Steve's body, light nips and sucking as he trails his way downward.
Steve bucked a little under Tony, unable to control himself as each kiss, each gentle probe of tongue or teeth sends ripples of pleasure throughout every part of his body. His hands ran through Tony's hair as the other man sets to work, and Steve's heart beat quickened. He loved this, every second of it. Not just because it had been far too long, but because this is Tony Stark and this man is igniting all these feelings within his chest.
Tony stopped to grin up at Steve when his face is between Steve's legs, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. Tony's tongue poked out from the edge of his lips, Steve's rock-hard shaft in his hand, already dripping small drops of pre-cum. The tip of Tony's tongue licked at the small droplets, lapping them up. Tony loved the taste of Steve, loved the fact that he's having the pleasure of tasting him like this. He continued to lick up and down Steve's shaft, tracing the veins with the tip of his tongue. Steve bucks against him, raising hips to meet his mouth.
A soft whimper, almost inaudible, escaped Steve. "Tony, please."
Tony liked that, liked hearing his name like that, loved Steve saying his name like that. He continued to lick for a few moments before obliging Steve's vague request and taking the tip of the penis into his mouth, swirling the tip of his tongue over it. His hand went down to stoke his own member as he worked on sucking the shaft, tongue applying light pressure up and down.
Steve's grip of Tony's hair tightened. Tony continued to tease him, driving him crazy. It's maybe a minute before Steve can't take anymore and he pushed Tony away, pinning the other man down with ease, kissing him. He can taste himself in Tony's cool mouth and this flicks some switch of animal desire in him. Using his knees to spread Tony's legs apart, he positioned himself at Tony's entrance, pausing for a moment to look at Tony. Tony had said he wanted this, but Steve wants to make certain, just one last time.
"Can I?" He asked.
Tony nodded, trying to contain a laugh. Steve really was such a gentleman and here they are about to do it and he's asking like he would ask Tony if he would like to go out to dinner or something. But Tony loved it and wouldn't have it any other way. He forced himself to relax. He'd played around back there before, that was nothing new, but he'd never had anything as big as Steve in there and this caused a little nervous knot to form in his stomach. But this was Steve and he was probably the most gentle lover anyone could ever have.
Steve pushed into Tony slowly, gently, after getting his approval. It took him a few moments and more than one try to be able to get himself inside. He'd never actually done this before, with a gal or a fellow, and the new feeling instantly envelopes him. It was almost impossibly warm. A grimace crosses Tony's face for a second and Steve frowns.
"Are you okay?"
Tony nodded again in response, rather breathless. The feeling of Steve inside him was like nothing he has ever felt before and it caused his face to flush hot and all words to dribble out of his sharp mind like drool. There was nothing but him and Steve and the moment and it was perfect. "Perfect."
Steve slowly began to wiggle around. Tony was tight, making it hard to move, and he didn't want to hurt the other man. He could never dream of hurting Tony intentionally. So he took it slow, which was good because if he took it too fast he was certain to have his orgasm far too soon and he didn't want to disappoint Tony. It had been a long time since he had done anything like this, and none of it had ever gotten this far. The pleasure was almost overwhelming. Tony strokes himself in time with Steve's thrusts.
They quickly became accustomed to one another, to being so close to one another, in one another. With one another. A pair. A couple, almost. Tony ground against Steve. Steve pushed against Tony. They enjoy a flustered, pleasurable, albeit short, little dance. Their orgasms were, wonderfully, simultaneous. Steve pulled himself from Tony and collapsed on top of the other man with no regard to the bodily fluids from them sticking to their skin and filling the air with the smell of sex and sweat.
"That was wonderful." Steve said, short of breath and still coming down from the high of orgasm, pressing lips to Tony's forehead and curling an arm around him.
"Perfect." Tony said again, hiding himself in Steve's chest and he thinks he could stay there forever, smiling against Steve's skin and taking in the smell of him.
And he does. For the rest of the day at least. It became a little ritual dance routine for the daylight hours, pressing against each other and kissing and tongues everywhere and experimenting. When they got hungry, they called in for pizza and no one questions them.
The night fell and they spent it sleeping in each other's arms.
Tony wakes in Steve's arms, and a smile instantly lights up his face. "Steve," he murmurs sleepily into the other man, snuggling harder against him. Steve stirs instantly, already facing Tony, a large grin on his face.
"Hello sunshine," he says and strokes Tony's check, feeling the bristles of Tony's beard. He's already gotten used to them and can't imagine kissing anyone else now. "We should probably be productive today. I'm sure the team misses us." And a frown crosses his face because he really wishes he could stay here with Tony all day again.
"Of course they do. I mean, look at us. We're two fine human specimens." Tony winks, but he knows Steve's right although he's loathe to move, to leave the wonderful, perfect, beautiful man next to him in any way.
Steve blushes slightly before speaking again, a little nervous about extending his offer. "You can come back here again, at the end of the day. If you want."
Tony smiles, thinking about how amazing it will be to be able to fall into a tangle of arms and legs after a long, hard day. He likes the idea. He could get used to that. "I think it sounds like a plan." He smiles, kissing Steve again before rising from the bed. His clothes is thrown all about, and he collects it, putting it back on slowly without a word.
Steve watches him, a soft smile on his face the entire time. "I'm glad. I'll be happy to have you."
The last of his clothes on, Tony smiles over at Steve one last time from the now open doorway. "I'll be seeing you."