Say Something

Sex for Steve had always been secret: a quick blowjob in the woods where it was so dark he couldn't even see Bucky's face, being bent over a rickety table in the little London room he'd rented for the night only to be interrupted by the blitz, a shaky handjob and desperate, hungry kisses in Italy fueled by relief more than need because he was alive, and if HYRDA had killed him, Steve would have burnt them alive and pissed on the ashes...

...Grinding and kissing like teenagers in a closet at SHIELD, because experience told him that was what he did with mouthy, witty assholes who were too brave for their own good.

No matter the decade, sex was always hurried, frantic, and, above all things, quiet.

So if it felt good when Tony sucked his cock into his warm, wet mouth, he showed it by squeezing his eyes shut and biting his bottom lip.

Tony bobbed his head up and down, sucking and licking while Steve threaded his fingers through his hair and resisted the urge to grip harder or thrust up into his mouth. Tony kept it up for a while, using all of his prodigious skill to build Steve up and then back off the moment before orgasm, gripping the base of his cock tightly to keep him from coming.

The third time this happened, Steve panted and gritted his teeth, smothering his groan in its cradle. The wonderful feeling of Tony touching his cock disappeared almost immediately. "No, no, no," Tony said. "You're not getting away with that tonight. You're so quiet, sometimes I think I'm doing this all by myself. Tonight I want you to make some noise."

Steve just frowned, tangled his hands in the sheets, and didn't say a word.

Quiet was privacy and secrecy. Quiet was dignity. Quiet was survival.

Tony would never understand that, because he was never quiet. If Tony's life ever depended on him not having the last word in an argument, Steve was sure he would die. But it was more than that. He was sure their teammates' reactions would range from indifference to baking a celebratory cake, but some things-even good, healthy things- were private. The feeling of cool, soft sheets and warm, smooth skin, the blue-white glow of the arc reactor illuminating every touch… those things didn't belong to anyone else.

Almost as if he could read his mind, Tony said, "I don't need you to scream, Steve. I don't want to keep everyone else up all night, and if I wanted the others to know we were fucking I'd send them a candygram, but I'm not doing anything until you make some sort of noise." His fingers ran lightly up and down Steve's cock, teasing. "Tell me what you want."

Steve sighed, and, realizing he was never going to get Tony to let this go, he said, "I want you to kiss me."

Tony smiled and crawled up the bed. He pressed his lips to Steve's as he ground his hips down. Steve gasped at the feeling of their groins pressed and rubbed together. Taking advantage, Tony slipped his tongue into his mouth and kissed him like he meant it, all sliding tongue and biting teeth, until finally he pulled away and breathlessly said, "Clever, keeping your mouth busy like that, but you're not off the hook yet. What now?"

Steve shook his head.

"You're usually blue in the face from barking orders-"

"Why can't you ever stop talking?" Steve said, pulling him closer for another hard, hungry kiss.

"One of us has to-" Tony said after they broke apart.

"I want you to fuck me," Steve said, giving in.

"Mm," Tony agreed. "Slow and easy or hard and fast?"

Again, Steve just shook his head.

"You're not getting off that easy," Tony said, his hand slipping down between Steve's legs to play with what he found. "Tell me what you want."

He wanted to come. He wanted Tony to shut up for once. He wanted to forget about Bucky just long enough to enjoy and love the cocky, brilliant man in his bed the way he deserved to be enjoyed and loved. "I don't care," he said, his voice breaking.

Tony must have heard it because instead of pushing the issue further, he pressed a surprisingly chaste kiss to Steve's lips and slipped a finger inside of him. "Bit of both then," he said. He made quick work of prepping Steve after that. Another finger joined the one already inside him, and once he was slick and ready, Tony sat back on his knees, Steve's legs spread on either side of him, the arc reactor casting strange, cold shadows on his face as he took his cock in hand and guided it into Steve's opening, working his way in slowly. Once he was all the way in, he leaned forward and kissed him again.

It was actually easier like this, Steve realized. Usually he liked it when Tony bent him over a table or took him on all fours on the bed or floor-and when the mood struck them, Steve gave as good as he got. But like this, on his back with Tony between his legs, and his open, loving face only inches from his own, it was easier to remember what decade he was in.

Steve needed all the help he could get in that department because as soon as Tony started moving inside him, his brain turned to mush. It was a slow, gentle ride at first. Tony would pull almost entirely out of him before sliding back in and filling him up. He continued this way for a while, pressing little kisses to Steve's mouth, licking and sucking at his tender neck.

And Steve decided he loved this easy pace, loved luxuriating in the feeling of Tony inside of him, loved seeing all the minute expressions on his face: a bloom of emotion, a scowl and a muttered curse, a flicker as his self-control nearly deteriorated entirely.

They maintained this slow slide for what felt like hours and no time at all. Tony would occasionally hit the tangle of white-hot nerves inside Steve and send waves of pleasure rolling through him, but Steve could tell he wasn't doing it on purpose. He was stretching this out, waiting for either his self-control to break or for Steve to finally make a sound. For a long while Steve had been determined not to lose, but one such wave of pleasure made him suck in a breath, wrap his legs around Tony, and pull him closer. "Harder," he said.

It was only one word, but the smirk on Tony's face said he knew he'd won. He snapped his hips forward and Steve let out a breathy little noise that was too quiet to be a groan. Tony did it again and again, pounding into him and setting a brutal pace. At one point he pried Steve's hands away from his shoulders so he could lean back, grip his hips and pull him back onto his cock over and over, angling his hips just right so that in a matter of seconds he had Steve panting and writhing on the bed, reaching for something to hold onto and finding nothing but the sheets.

Steve was half expecting Tony to demand he make some noise or say something before he would let him come, so he almost cried out in relief when he did no such thing. Tony merely wrapped a hand around his cock and started jerking him off in time with his heavy, pounding thrusts. When the orgasm built, Steve didn't fight it. Their couplings were usually, frantic, heated, bordering-on-violent. His climaxes even more so, whether it was Tony or Bucky in bed with him didn't seem to matter in that regard. But this one was a long, slow burn that spun on and on, and Tony continued to fuck him all the way through it.

Finally, when Steve was limp and exhausted, his lip sore and bloody from where he'd bit it to keep quiet, Tony came with a moan. It was a quiet moan that Steve knew only he could hear.

Still inside him, Tony leaned forward and kissed him again, gently, his ticking flicking at the swollen, sore spot where he'd bitten himself. "Why don't you ever make any noise?" he asked.

Steve shrugged the best he could with Tony still on top on him. "Just habit, I guess."

It was a cowardly lie. The truth was he was afraid he'd let something slip. He was afraid that here in the dark, with all their quiet lovemaking, that he'd say the wrong name.

So I've never really shipped Steve/Bucky before, but after writing this filthy thing, damn, I just might ship it now… Are there supposed to be feels in smut? #ihavenoideawhatimdoing

Anyway, this was the prompt (again from somewhere over on avengerkink): Years of keeping quiet doing anything sexual have been ingrained into Steve. If he makes noise, it's through gritted teeth and barely heard. Same with swearing, all whispered. It freaks out Any, because they are doing some filthy nasty cum-wadded shit in bed. Does Any try to get Steve to raise the volume?

I might have been a bit liberal in my interpretation, but meh. Hope you enjoyed it!