If you went to a certain dance club, on a certain evening, at a certain time, you might be lucky enough to see a certain couple, dancing to a certain song. Or at least, a certain half of the couple trying to get his other half to dance...
"Noo... Steeve... I can't dance... You know I can't daaaance... I have a heart condition!"
"Come on Tony! It's our song!"
"Since when has 'Don't know much' been our song?!" Steve smiles sweetly.
"Since now. I like it. It's romantic" Tony groans.
"If I dance, then I expect so truly fantastic sex as a reward".
"Toooony! Not in public!"
"How about this instead?" The shorter man reaches up and presses his lips onto his partner's, kissing him deeply. He balances himself with his hand on Steve's shoulder and tilts his head. He honestly never tires of kissing his Super Soldier, and he'd do it all day if Steve would let him. But unfortunately his lungs protest - and he pulls away leaving the blonde reeling.
Steve's slightly bruised lips turn up into a smile.
"You're still dancing with me." He grabs the brunette's hand and pulls onto the dance floor. Tony groans.
"Honestly, why do I put up with this torture?"
"Because you're obsessed with kissing me."
"I am not!"
"Honesty, Tones. You talk in your sleep. And you spend half your life trying to kiss me. Not" he adds, "That I'm complaining."
Tony is blushing now, and that's a rare occurrence indeed. He buries his face in the crook of Steve's neck and pretends not to notice that his partner is smirking.
Fin.