ugly-scented candles asked for something where Steve's pining and Tony notices (and likes him back) and decides to tease and play with him about it, culminating in a kiss where they get together.

This got really, really long, but I had a lot of fun writing it because I admit I'm a sucker for pining and happy endings and hot make-outs. Because did I mention the hot make-outs?

There are hot make-outs in here. And Tony being a ridiculous tease.

I hope you enjoy this. :)


Pining Kiss


Steve really was an idiot. Falling for someone so completely unattainable who wouldn't give him the time of day if he knew that Steve – that Steve…liked him.

As in really liked him. Wanted more than what they had right now.

Not that it was possible, because there was no way that a guy like Tony Stark would look at Steve twice. It was good enough that they were friends, and Steve would have to be happy with that. He would.

All he really wanted was for Tony to be happy, too. So what if he desperately wanted Tony to be happy with him? So what if he wanted to be the one to put those smiles on Tony's face and make him laugh?

Being friends was good enough, and Steve would always be grateful for what he had and not want more. It wasn't in his nature, even if he might wish for more.

Sighing softly, Steve smoothed over the shading on his latest sketch of Tony. This was his second sketchbook, and he was trying not to fill it up entirely with sketches of Tony like he had the last one, but once again he was failing. He was already a third of the way in, and all he'd done were sketches of Tony's face, his eyes, his hands, Tony in the workshop, Tony sleepy in the kitchen, Tony sleeping

Steve forced himself to put the pencil down when he noticed that he'd begun sketching anew on another page, this time with a softly etched out profile of Tony smiling, his eyes closed and his laugh lines crinkling.

Mouth dry at the sight that he could picture as clearly as if Tony was standing in front of him and giving him that smile, Steve closed the sketchbook and pushed the pencil away, thinking that he'd done enough drawing and dreaming about things that couldn't be.

Maybe he should go torture himself some more in the kitchen. There was always a chance that Tony would come in for some coffee or a snack.

Biting his lip, Steve took all of a pitiful second to make his decision and go. He really was a sucker, but there wasn't anything he could do about it because he was seriously gone. And he'd tried.

He'd seriously gone on several of the blind dates Natasha had set him up on, but every one of them had flunked when Steve couldn't get Tony's eyes or face out of his mind. It also didn't help that he kept comparing all his dates to Tony and finding them distinctly lacking in some fundamental way. Which wasn't at all fair to the women that Natasha approved of.

Natasha was still trying to set him up, but Steve thought it was more out of habit than anything else. He wasn't sure if she knew about his hopeless affection for Tony, but chances were that she did, and that she was trying in her own way to help Steve get over Tony.

Not that there was a chance. Once Steve fell, he fell hard, and there wasn't any chance of going back.

Rubbing his face, Steve was only mildly surprised to find Tony already in the kitchen and waiting on something in the microwave. "Tony." The word left him before he could stop it, and he was pathetically grateful that nothing of his thoughts could be heard.

Tony turned to him, a bright smile on his face that had Steve's heart skipping a painful beat before picking the pace up double-time. "I didn't know you were still up."

Only because Steve couldn't sleep at two in the morning. "I could say the same for you."

"You know how it is." Tony brushed it off dismissively, still smiling. "Genius waits for no man."

"You sure it's not the coffee?" Steve couldn't help tease.

Tony scoffed, eyes narrowing briefly, though his lips twitched. "Blasphemy. I'll have you know that I can sleep with caffeine in my bloodstream."

Needing to occupy his hands with something, Steve went for a glass of milk, using that as an excuse not to look at Tony. His heart needed time to recover. "At this point, I don't doubt it."

"Warm milk before bedtime?" Tony's voice was light.

"If it works, it works." Though Steve hadn't had any intention of warming it up, not with Tony watching the microwave above the stove.

"I could think of a few other things to tire you out." Tony's voice had lost most of its teasing edge, taking on a distinctly husky edge that had shivers running down Steve's spine and his ears heating up. His heart thumped painfully against his ribs, hoping despite itself.

Steve kept his voice even through sheer willpower. "I'm sure." He capped the milk carton, putting it back in the fridge and taking a breath of cold air to calm himself and his flushed cheeks. By the time he turned around to face Tony, he was feeling distinctly more composed.

There was a small glint in Tony's eye that had Steve feeling wary. "I'm sure you're sure."

Steve paused, fingers tightening minutely on his glass before he forced them to relax. He wasn't entirely sure what Tony was playing at here, but he was pretty sure that it wouldn't turn out well for him. Things usually didn't, especially if he was too tongue-tied to shoot back his usual witty rejoinder.

The microwave beeped, sounding distinctly proud at having finished defrosting whatever Tony had put in there. It smelled like the leftovers from dinner to Steve's nose, but with a lot more salt.

Steve didn't even have time to move before Tony brushed by him to get to the microwave, unnecessarily bumping his hip against Steve's as he opened the door and pulled out a large bowl of steaming pasta.

Steve's strangled noise went buried in the milk, and he desperately clutched at the counter, too aware of how his cheeks were suddenly scorching hot.

Tony gave him a lazy smile, eyes half-lidded as he waved a fork in Steve's direction. "Night, Steve. Enjoy your milk." There was something distinctly dirty about how he said the last word, and Steve had absolutely no idea why Tony'd even said it like that.

Five minutes later, Steve was left standing in an empty kitchen with a glass of milk and a microwave that seemed to be humming the theme to Star Trek.

On the plus side, he was no longer fire engine red. On the negative side, Tony wasn't there anymore, and Steve was practically positive something was going on.

Something that didn't bode well for him.


The next day was movie night, and it was Tony's turn. Instead of picking science fiction or science fantasy or something to do with robots – Pacific Rim had been a repeat showing for months after it came out – he picked When Harry Met Sally, which was an uncharacteristic movie for him considering it was a romantic comedy and Tony had professed rather loudly a while ago that he hated romantic comedies.

Steve didn't want to find out why Tony had picked this movie, but he had a feeling he would sooner than later.

Steve usually sat on an armchair by himself during movie nights, not trusting himself to sit next to Tony on the couch. Unfortunately, this meant that Steve had a pretty clear peripheral view of Tony sitting on the couch, and he usually spent more time than not looking at Tony, frequently missing out on entire movies because he was too engrossed in staring at Tony's face and watching his reactions.

Tony typically didn't notice anything, and Steve was more than happy with that. Only this time, Tony was already looking at him whenever Steve looked, dark eyes fixed on his face.

Steve found himself quickly returning his eyes to the movie whenever that happened, a blush riding high on his cheeks. He could feel Natasha staring at him, though Clint got her to subside quickly enough with a small murmur in her ear.

Then the orgasm scene in the restaurant happened, and Steve's eyes automatically skittered to Tony, only to meet Tony's. Tony was smiling, his eyes dark with a hidden emotion that Steve didn't dare read. As Steve watched, Tony's smile widened, and he arched his head back, accentuating the curve of his neck.

Steve itched to press his lips against Tony's pulse point, to mark him up so that everyone knew Steve had done that, to make Tony whimper and moan under him—

Flushing hotly, Steve forced his attention back to the movie, barely focusing on the end of the scene and an old woman ordering the same meal as Sally.

The rest of the movie passed in a blur, because there was no way that Steve was getting that dark look in Tony's eyes out of his head.

Or the arch of his neck, curved so invitingly for Steve to just—

Just no.

…But he wanted.


Interactions between him and Tony continued in a similar vein for the next week, spiraling further and further until Steve felt like he was vibrating out of his skin, constantly on edge with want and need but unable and unwilling to do anything about it. He was constantly on tenterhooks with Tony, his heart picking up and his skin continually flushed no matter what Tony did.

Tony could be slugging down a bottle of water and Steve would want to lick up his throat because of how it looked. And then there was how Tony had eaten red, white, and blue popsicles in front of Steve in the most suggestive manner possible and looked completely innocent while doing so, carrying on a conversation with an oblivious Bruce who hadn't batted an eye at taking a green-colored popsicle. Though thankfully Bruce hadn't treated his popsicle the same way.

Not that Steve would've noticed, his eyes stuck on Tony as they had been.

Groaning softly, Steve buried his face in his hands, tugging gently at his hair. He was on his way down to Tony's workshop, having been called for what was probably a uniform fitting. He wasn't sure if it was a good choice, being in a small space alone with Tony. Not with what had been going on the last week.

Steve let no sign of his indecision show on his face by the time the elevator doors slid open. He was cool, calm, and collected as Tony grabbed hold of his arm and pulled and pushed him toward his latest inventions, gesturing and talking excitedly only as Tony could. It captivated Steve, and he watched Tony with a warm sensation in his chest that threatened to bubble over any moment.

He had no idea what was on his face, but it must have been something telling because the next time Tony looked at him, a strange expression crossed his face before something akin to determination settled.

Before Steve knew it, Tony had set his fingers on Steve's chin and angled his head for a kiss, pressing warm lips to his own.

Steve registered the taste of metal and coffee before Tony drew back. He instinctively chased after for more, wrapping his arms around Tony's waist to pull him closer.

The warm feeling his chest spilled over, along with the roiling emotions of the last week, and Steve was kissing Tony heatedly before he realized it, a desperate noise escaping him as Tony reached up to fist his hair. He whimpered into Tony's mouth when the other pushed him into the table, shuddering as Tony slid a hand down Steve's back and over his leg before hitching a hand behind Steve's thigh, fingers curling under his knee.

"Do you"—Tony drew back, panting into Steve's mouth—"have any idea how crazy you make me?"

Steve was just as breathless as Tony, if not even more so. He swallowed, licking his mouth for the aftertaste of Tony and desperate for more now that he'd had a taste. "Not as crazy as you make me." His voice was hoarse, almost unrecognizable.

Tony's eyes darkened. "The way you look at me." His voice took on that same husky undertone from that night in the kitchen, and Steve shuddered again, eyes slipping closed involuntarily. He let out a helpless moan when Tony nipped at his collarbone, head dipping back in invitation. "You've no idea what ideas that puts into my head."

Steve's throat worked, voice stuttering as Tony nipped his pulse point, teeth just shy of inflicting pain. His head tipped to the side, his fingers clenching tightly in Tony's shirt. "Show me?" He sounded breathless, want burning through every inch of him.

"I will." Tony's voice was low, and he pressed a warm, open-mouthed kiss to the side of Steve's neck, then another to the underside of Steve's jaw, making him tremble. "But first…" He drew back, though Steve's grip on his waist didn't let him go far. "You want this, right?"

Blinking, Steve struggled to clear the haze from his brain, but he wasn't very successful, Tony's warm body against his own like a drug. "I do." He wasn't quite sure what question he was answering, but he added more just to be sure. "I want this. Have wanted this – wanted you." He pressed his hand against the small of Tony's back, keeping himself carefully still.

Tony's voice was ridiculously clear as he asked, "A relationship? A one-off?"

Steve shook his head. "The first – that." Unless Tony didn't want that? Fear skittered through him, just as effective as a cold shower. "Unless you don't…?"

"No," Tony rushed to assure him, a warm smile pulling at his lips. He pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of Steve's mouth. "I want it. Just making sure." He pressed another kiss to Steve's lips, too short for his liking. "I needed to be sure," he said, as if to himself.

"I'm sure." Steve chased Tony's lips for more. "I…" A thought struck him. "Were you teasing me?"

A sheepish look crossed Tony's features, confirming Steve's suspicions. "You looked so cute all flustered, I couldn't help it."

Frowning, Steve opened his mouth, fully intending on giving Tony a piece of his mind, but all his objections vanished when Tony pressed up against him and took full advantage of his open mouth.

Moaning helplessly, Steve melted into Tony's hold, his weight resting on the table behind him. Fingers skated up Steve's back under his shirt, nails scraping gently over his skin, and Steve shivered, arching into the touch.

"That's it," Tony murmured into Steve's mouth, breath coming in heavy gasps. He nudged his nose against Steve's, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to Steve's jaw, his cheek, under his ear.

Knees week, Steve clutched at Tony's solid body, small, desperate noises escaping before he could stop them.

His heart thundered in his ears, and warmth was burning in his chest, setting his skin afire with every brush of Tony's skin against his own. He needed more, would always need more.

Steve licked into Tony's mouth, heat and something akin to a blazing happiness burning through him at the thought that he could have this – have Tony, as perfectly ridiculous as he was. Steve didn't even mind the teasing anymore, not with how Tony was kissing him.

It was everything he'd wanted and everything he'd needed.

But he was still going to give Tony a piece of his mind for that teasing. Maybe even drive Tony crazy now that he knew he could.