Brooklyn, New York

Earth

[Two years earlier…]

Focus fixed to the fading shine on his dress shoes, Steve took the stairs. He always took the stairs. He listened to Thor's heavy footsteps behind him as the man followed. To give himself a little more room to breathe, Steve hooked his finger into the stiff, heavily starched collar of his suit and tugged. It loosened his tie enough to gulp without choking.

Theirs had been a small ceremony: an ordained judge and Barton and Romanoff as witnesses. Steve had wanted it that way. Thor had forewarned him that the official ceremony, the only to be celebrated on Asgard, would be as extravagant and enormous as weddings came.

They had walked to Sophi's from the courthouse where he had barely made a dent in his three-cheese lasagna, but must have downed twenty cups of Medaglia.

They reached the landing of the fourth floor and Steve rounded the corner to stroll towards apartment 481, the last door on the left. He paused on the mud mat, shifting his doggy bag to his left hand while he fished his keys out of his slacks with his right. He thumbed through them until he found the silver one and shifted it into position. First try, he missed the hole. Second try, he put it in upside down.

"You're trembling," Thor's rolling baritone declared.

A light, dry laugh fluttered out of Steve's chest. "Just jittery, I guess. Probably all the coffee." Third try, he missed again. Steve stilled when, from behind him, Thor reached around and laid his left hand over Steve's, his new vibranium wedding band glinting under the fluorescent lights. The warm weight calmed him.

"You are nervous."

Keeping his eyes on the knob, Steve hid the surge of heat in his face. "Or we could just state the obvious…"

"That is how I am," Thor reminded impishly.

"I know, fella," Steve whispered, turning a bashful smile. "I know."

"Please." Thor gently ushered him aside and assumed control of his keys. "Allow me."

"Thanks." Steve stuffed his quaking hand into his pocket, feigning interest in the apartment's number plaque as he listening to Thor jingle and jostle the door open. Click.

"… I am sorry for this," Thor mumbled.

"Sorry?" Steve echoed as he lifted his gaze, confused. "What fo—Thor!" he exclaimed, suddenly swept up into the Asgardian's burly arms. He met his Caribbean blue eyes, puzzling over the distance between himself and the floor.

"Indulge me," Thor requested, his grin genuine and disarming enough to receive a hundred indulgences. "It is custom in my culture." Dumbstruck and humbled, Steve stared into Thor's handsome face as Thor carried him across the threshold of his apartment. Once inside, he toed the door shut.

Blind with embarrassment, Steve murmured, "Sheesh, fella, will you put me down?"

"In a moment. I require a kiss first."

With only an instant's hesitation, Steve placed a chaste kiss on Thor's cheek. Clearly unsatisfied, Thor turned his head and caught Steve's mouth assertively. Firmly. Fiercely. Marinara, Cabernet, and fine cologne wafted through Steve's senses, the scruff of Thor's blond beard tickling his lips. Spine liquefying, Steve's trepidation turned to jelly. They had kissed before, but it had never been so poignant with passion, possessiveness, and promises.

Steve was thankful for the extra few seconds Thor held him. Heck, his knees may have buckled on their own. Thor reluctantly gave Steve's feet back to the floor. Quickly straightening his suit as he found his balance, Steve tried to laugh it off.

"Believe you me, that is the last time that is ever happening."

"I will fix us drinks." Thor slid his finger through his silk tie until it hung undone around his neck. He moved with the grace of a courtier and the power of a jungle cat as he slid Steve's coat from his shoulders. "That should help."

"OK," Steve stammered, busying himself with plucking hangers from the coat closet. "You want me to put on a record?" Uncannily fond of the large ropes of Thor's neck framing his Adam's apple with devilish temptation, Steve couldn't help but notice that Thor had thumbed open the first three buttons of his Burberry. Steve's pulse kicked up.

Thor smiled warmly. "If it would ease you. Your voice is enough for me."

Stomach tumbling faster than an acrobat, Steve dropped his attention to the floor, searching for a romantic way to respond and coming up empty. "Well, when you go and put it like that—"

"Yes, my love," Thor agreed mercifully. "Music would please me." He squeezed Steve's shoulder as he passed him and turned the corner into the kitchen.

Sheepishly, Steve ducked into the den to fiddle with the stereo system and collect his dignity.

Smooth jazz floated through the tension between their cocktails—whiskey on the rocks with a couple maraschino cherries on the surface. Seated across from one another at the dining table, Steve fingered his wedding band, turning it around his finger. Thor covered Steve's fidgeting with his large, steady hand.

"Be at peace." Thor brushed his calloused thumb over Steve's flustered skin. "We will go at your pace."

"You've already waited a year and a half because of my pace," he whispered.

"And I would not change a thing. I said I wanted to romance you the traditional way Midgardians do. I meant it. Just because you lifted the hammer doesn't give me free license to possess you."

The admission soothed a portion of his worry. Steve inhaled deeply. "Have you, you know… done this before?" He glanced up at the Asgardian. At his… husband.

"Never with a man. But Fandral tells me it is not difficult."

Steve's nerves spiked. "You talked to Fandral about us?"

"Naturally," Thor answered after a hardy gulp, casually bending his elbow to drape his arm over the back of his chair, forcing Steve to grapple with how shapely his arms looked with his cuffs unbuttoned and rolled high enough to expose the impressive swell of his triceps. The shirt creased in all the right places; hugged every perfect curve. Steve's throat dried. "He is a close companion with valuable experience."

"Well," muttered Steve under his breath. "At least it wasn't your mother." Steve took a long pull from his drink.

Thoughtfully, Thor furrowed his strong brow. "I sought her counsel, too."

Steve choked, snapping his fist up to keep the Jack in his mouth.

"It seemed easier than approaching my father."

"Fair enough." Steve cleared his throat and rolled his shoulders.

"And you?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, sore with stress, Steve forced a smirk and shook his head. "Fooled around some. Back in the 40s." Christmas Eve, 1942, to be precise. Steve had been madly in love, Buck had been drunk and sore about the lack of female company, and a sudden snow storm had plunged the temperature outside their tent to 5 degrees Fahrenheit. "But…"

"Never to fruition."

Steve shifted in his seat. "If that means fondue, no." Thor, Steve accepted, already knew about him being queer since grade school. Not because Steve had the guts to admit it, but because Natasha had gone and spilled the beans on the night of their engagement. That hadn't been permissible in Steve's time though. He hadn't thought to share.

Thor eyed him carefully, but candidly. "You're a virgin."

Dammit. Sighing wryly, Steve lifted his glass and downed three hefty swallows. "Do we have to keep stating the obvious?"

"There is no shame in that. It is beautiful. I am honored, Steven."

Steve laughed, giving his cocktail glass a few slow turns on the tabletop just to have an excuse to keep his eyes off Thor's face and his defenses occupied. The glass left a glistening ring of condensation on the wood. "No one else calls me that but you."

"Do you dislike it?" Thor challenged playfully, leaning forward.

Steve smiled, struggling not to be coy. "Not when you say it."

Thor's chair creaked as he sat back. "We should have had this conversation months ago."

"Deal breaker?"

"Not at all. I've never met someone so modest. It's actually very attractive."

Him? Attractive? Steve scoffed insincerely. "Being shy as a guy isn't exactly an advantage, fella."

"Steven. We're married. There's nothing to be shy about anymore."

"Funny. I thought I'd feel that way, too. Like everything would just settle into place. But I think I'm more anxious now than the afternoon you popped the question."

Silence filled the space between them. Pushing his chair back from the table and standing, Thor offered Steve his outstretched hand. "Come. Perhaps we should start with something simple. May I have this dance?"

Heart leaping into his throat, Steve followed Thor's arm to his face. Dazedly, he nodded.

Chest to chest, Steve stepped along with Thor to the saxophone solos dripping from the speakers, Thor's flexed bicep rock solid beneath his palm. Thor's body, radiating warmth, couldn't have been more enticing if Steve had dreamed it up. A light whiskey fragrance joined the intoxicating scents from before.

"Do you trust me?" Thor asked, his breath like velvet fire against his ear.

"Course I do," answered Steve without hesitation.

"Then why are you still shaking?"

Exhaling in defeat, Steve hid his face in the crook of Thor's neck. "What if I'm no good at this?"

"Surely you jest," Thor purred lowly, his grip tightening. "If you could feel the way you move against me, the way you fit in every place I burn to be touched, you'd never say such a thing." His lips ghosted over the shell of Steve's ear. "If you were a bride, I'd promise you children."

"Don't talk like that," Steve chided, cursing the deluge of heat that swirled through his groin.

"Why?" Thor dropped his lips beneath Steve's ear to the most sensitive spot above his collarbone.

"It's—" Steve tried. "Unnatural." Not that Steve the science experiment had any right to condemn the unnatural.

"Can't you picture it? I'd pleasure you nightly, make you sweat as I heat you from the inside, until I was certain not a single space had been left unfilled. And still I wouldn't stop."

He shivered. "Thor."

Thor's hand traveled from the small of Steve's back to the back pocket of his slacks. He squeezed—slow and methodic. Steve's breath hitched. "Can you feel how much I want you?" Thor pulled, sandwiching their hips together, his unmistakable engorgement getting fresh with Steve's crotch. "To claim you? To take you? To lay you bare before me and watch you come undone?"

Despite stubbornly chewing on his cheek, Steve couldn't stave off the wave of arousal welling up within him, his slacks growing irritatingly tight. Both of Thor's hungry hands found the seat of Steve's pants as their lips met. He squeezed harder. Steve freed a low, deprived moan into his mouth, melting against him and the thorough kneading. Steve closed the distance between them as he slid his arm around behind his neck, his other hand tugging at the fabric clothing Thor's side.

Thor brought them to the sofa. He sat down, dusky blues glued to Steve's soul, and Steve tentatively moved into place astride his hips. He shivered as Thor's hands secured purchase of his seat again and pulled at an angle, forcing Steve's groin to slide over Thor's. Over… and over.

The delicious hint of friction had Steve panting, his fingertips digging into the cushion behind Thor's shoulder while Thor nosed under his jaw and started sucking on the flesh of his throat. Steve pulled Thor's tie from his shoulders and discarded it on the other side of the couch. Fingering with Thor's dress shirt, he managed to detach the fourth, fifth, and sixth button.

Jesus. Steve hadn't been this hot to trot since before the thaw. He snuck his fingers up into Thor's golden mane. Time slipped from his telling. Another round of kissing evolved into petting. Heavy petting.

"I want to take this to our bedroom," Thor announced, his husky voice grating against Steve's sanity.

Breathless, Steve nodded and grudgingly dismounted. With the grace of a god, Thor stood—his slacks stiffly tented—and took Steve by the hand. He led him through the fog of his need into the cool, dim dark of the bedroom. Steve, beside himself, almost couldn't tell up from down. His pulse pounded in his ears, nearly too loudly to hear Thor duck into his bathroom for a bottle of slick he had never had the chance to use.

"I won't rush you, Steven. I want you to know the feel of my body," Thor began, his rugged hands like tongues of satin as they crept down Steve's shirt, effortlessly opening every button, "before I know yours."

Steve gulped dryly, floundering in Thor's blues, gooseflesh spreading across his torso. He hadn't noticed that Thor had dropped his slacks and shorts until Thor took Steve's hand and slowly wrapped it around his—

Wide eyed, Steve's attention descended the axis of Thor's brawny, sculpted body to what stood at attention between his legs and throbbed in his palm.

"Merciful God." Before he could leash the impulse, his tongue darted over his lower lip.

"It's Thor, actually." He cracked a sidelong, sinfully arrogant grin.

Steve stared achingly. As if instinctively, his mouth watered. What would that feel like between his lips? How would it flavor his tongue? Could he even take it all—? Steve ripped himself from his lewd thoughts. Suffering from a blush that burned like fever blisters, Steve met Thor's eyes—patient, but lit from within by insatiable lust.

"If you're not ready," Thor guided, stealing his gentle hand under Steve's chin, "then we'll wait for that."

"I… uh…" His head pounded. "Can I taste it?" he whispered.

If possible, the light in Thor's eyes roared to an inferno. Steve felt him sweep his thumb over his bottom lip. "I've wondered for so long about the feel of your mouth."

Itching with need, Steve wasn't going to make him wait any longer to find out. He knelt, coming face to face with another first. Splaying his hand over Thor's naked thigh, Steve leaned in, lips parted, and licked the hot, silky tip. He glanced up as Thor grunted. He eased lower and trailed his tongue along the salty, stiff shaft. Above him, Thor shuddered.

Steve couldn't stop at a taste. He took the base in his unoccupied hand and stooped down to sample the first few inches.

"Bloody—" Thor moaned. "Steven." Thor's hand found his hair as fresh heat found Steve's face. He had never heard his name come off Thor's lips quite like that. Maybe this was like… drinking a malt. Sucking felt natural, he realized, as he started a warm, wet pull.

Thor's hand curled into his hair and Steve heard him start making the most glorious sounds. They went straight to Steve's south. A bit braver with the added fuel, Steve took in another inch. One more, and Thor's erection had found the back of his throat. He upturned his eyes to find Thor watching him with wildfire in his eyes.

"I need you," Thor growled. "Now."

Steve obeyed. Following orders was damn easy, especially in this heady fugue he found himself in. He stood up, uncertain about what to do next. Before he could ask, Thor spoke again, his mighty chest heaving and his hands clenched at his sides.

"Undress. All of it. If I try, I'll..." He flexed his hands. "I shall likely rip everything."

Blinking in surprise, Steve realized that his dress shirt and tie still draped from his shoulders and his slacks hung at his hips. He shucked off his shirt and, purely habitually, turned his back to Thor when he started on his pants. From behind him, he heard the pop of a cap, a squirt of fluid, and a dull thud. Before he could correct himself, Thor had him flat against the wall, his cheek to the chilly surface, with his slacks and shorts around his ankles.

Thor took his ear lobe between his teeth. Steve, panting, could feel Thor shifting behind him, moving in some unintelligible way. The slurping that followed allowed Steve the mental image of Thor lubing up the same thing his mouth had just attended to.

Steve bit down hard on his lip, painfully erect against the unforgiving wall.

Thor's hand snuck between them, blazing a trail up the delicate skin of Steve's inner thigh, Thor's fingers cool and slimy. His hot, hard erection dug into the flesh of Steve's backside. Palms pressed to the wall, Steve curled his fingers into the plaster. A tremor rattled through him as Thor's fingers found his—!

Thor inserted one slippery digit.

Steve's mouth fell open with a broken moan. "W—wait," he gasped. "This…?"

"Yes," Thor answered. He began to pump in and out, adding occasional kinks. "This is how it's done."

Before Steve could inquire further, Thor twisted his wrist and crooked his finger. Steve, moans unbidden, could have sworn he saw stars, an electric jolt racing up his spine.

"There it is," Thor praised against the shell of his ear.

There what was!?

Steve choked on his question when Thor, panting, added a second finger, pressing his nose against the crook of Steve's neck. He found that spot again.

"Thor!" Steve cried.

Thor gradually twisted, spread, and scissored his fingers.

Steve felt his face flush violet. Thor was going to…? That was how…? Steve's social anxieties, his indoctrinated self-loathing, began clawing back into his brain. Dirty. Unforgivable. Abominable.

"This isn't exactly how I wanted our first time to go, darling," Thor spoke huskily. "I wanted to look into your eyes."

Look into…? From—from the front!?

Steve blushed violently. "I—I don't think I could do it another way," Steve quickly choked out, embarrassment threatening to strangle him. Thor bent his fingers again, nearly bringing tears of pleasure to Steve's eyes and forcing his doubts away. Steve shivered.

"In that case," Thor acquiesced, "I'll love you from this position… for now." He locked his lips with Steve's neck, gingerly teething on the skin, as he extracted his fingers, pulling more moans from Steve as he did so.

Steve felt Thor's slick hand slide up his arm to anchor his hand to the wall and fold their fingers together while his other hand found purchase just below Steve's thigh. Thor hiked up his leg, bending that knee, and held it against the wall.

Finally, Steve felt the silky head of his husband's erection locate and wait at the entrance to his body.

"Relax, my love," Thor coaxed. "I only want to bring you pleasure. The slightest hint of pain, and I'll stop."

Steve gulped, white hot desire threatening to overwhelm him, as if he could lose himself to this. "OK, fella," he breathed out.

Thor shifted. Steve gasped.

"Relax," Thor grunted against his ear, his grip on Steve's hand constricting.

Trembling, Steve strived to do just that. More, measure by measure, stretched him open.

"You—" Thor cut off with a groan. "It feels as though I did not prep you in the least."

Tight. Too tight. Steve's every muscle-bound fiber throbbed. Sobbed with pleasure. He caught himself whining as he scratched his fingertips down the wall, even willing his hips forward to beg friction from the wall.

Thor's lips feathered over his shoulder. "So eager. Halfway," he reported.

Steve gave a lilted moan at the news, nearly incoherent in the sensation, his own name a distant echo by the time Thor could go no farther. And then… the thrusts started.