Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The first thing Steve noticed as he stretched, the last remnants of sleep slowly receding from the edges of his mind, was an overall sense of comfort, an easiness that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

The other differences came to him more gradually, a soft, gentle realization as his senses started to awaken. The scent of a soap that he didn’t use. The sound of an exhaled breath that wasn’t his. The warmth of someone else’s body pressed against his.

It had been a long time since he’d fallen asleep in someone’s arms.

It had been even longer since he’d woken up that way.

“Tony,” he breathed out, just loud enough that he could hear it, convince himself this wasn’t just a dream, but not loud enough to wake the boy sleeping peacefully at his side.

It was almost strange, how natural this felt, Tony’s cheek resting against his shoulder, Tony’s leg casually draped over his thigh, Tony’s hand pressed against his chest, like he’d been seeking out the beat of Steve’s heart in his sleep.

He didn’t normally like sharing his bed, but this felt different somehow, felt right in a way that nothing ever had before. They fit together, like he was a lock, and Tony was his key.

Even the soft puffs of Tony’s breath tickling his skin, the slight pins and needles in his forearm, the fact that Tony had stolen most of the blanket, it all somehow felt perfect, like this was the thing that he’d been searching for, like he’d found a part of himself that he hadn’t even known that he’d been missing.

He sighed, pulling Tony closer, already dreading the idea of waking up alone again after today, and Tony curled his hand around the front of his shirt, burying his face in the curve of his neck.

They hadn’t actually started out in the same bed. Tony was more of a lightweight than he’d let on, and he dozed off in the truck before they even got to the house. Steve hadn’t had the heart to wake him, so he’d carried him into the house, straight into the tiny spare bedroom.

His house was small, nothing grand, but it was more than big enough for just him, and it was the first – and only – big purchase he’d made for himself after The Commando had started to succeed.

It was in a quiet neighborhood at the end of a cul-de-sac, slightly further back than the other houses on the street. A red maple tree – now bare of leaves, but sprouting delicate red flowers – grew in the front yard.

He and Bucky had built a small deck out in the back, just large enough for a couple chairs. On the rare occasion that he actually took a night off, he would sit on the deck, feet propped up on the railing, watching the sunset with a nice cold bottle of beer and Lynyrd Skynyrd or Creedence playing on the stereo through the living room window.

There were two bedrooms, a kitchen filled with old appliances, some of them probably nearly as old as Tony, but they still worked, so he hadn’t felt the need to replace them. The floors were new – hardwood, oak – he’d replaced them himself with Bucky’s help, and they’d built floor to ceiling bookshelves into one of the walls in the living room. The shelves were filled with more books than he could probably ever read, but that didn’t stop him from buying a new one every time he wandered past a bookstore.

It was most certainly more modest than anything that Tony was used to, but he tried to push that thought to the back of his mind as he laid him on the small twin sized bed that took up most of the spare room. At least it was warm – the heater worked – it was cozy, and it was nicer than anywhere Steve had ever lived before.

It was home.

And his heart beat heavily in his chest at the thought of possibly sharing it with Tony one day, of sitting on that cramped back deck, Tony in his lap and in his arms as they watched the stars gradually emerge in the night sky, cookouts in the backyard, evenings shared with friends before nights spent curled up together in bed.

He pushed that thought away, too, slightly overwhelmed by the depth of his feelings after such a short time. He’d never had thoughts like this before, had never felt like this before.

He bundled Tony in the quilt that his mom had made for him, then sat in the armchair by the bed, casually flipping through his illustrated copy of The Two Towers as he watched over Tony until he was satisfied that Tony wasn’t at risk.

By the time he’d gotten to the beginning of the battle of Helm’s Deep his own eyes were starting droop, so he’d put in a quick call to Bucky to check on The Commando and to assure everyone that Tony was okay, before collapsing into his own bed, exhausted from the day’s emotional roller coaster.

But he’d been awakened, sometime shortly before dawn, by the sound of tentative footsteps across the floor of his room. “Tony?” he asked, blinking in confusion against the moonlight streaming in from the window. “Are you alright? Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah,” Tony said, carefully settling his weight on the bed next to Steve. “I feel…” He bit his lip, glancing at Steve nervously. “...probably better than I have any right to feel, honestly.” He gave a shy smile. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Tony, I’ll always take care of you.”

Tony’s mouth twitched slightly at that, though his eyes were still dark with turmoil. He nodded. “I know.” He inhaled, then, “Steve, can I…” he began, and then stopped just as quickly. He glanced down at his hands, fidgeting nervously in his lap. “I mean, would it be alright if…”

Steve wanted to jump in with the answer to the unfinished question, the unspoken wish, because he knew what Tony wanted, knew exactly what Tony needed, but he forced that instinct down, not wanting to push. He needed to give Tony time to collect his thoughts, or his nerves, or whatever it was that was causing his hesitance. If he wanted Tony to be comfortable enough to come to him when he needed something – when he needed him – then he was going to have to give his boy time.

Tony inhaled deeply, beginning again. “Can I sleep in here with you?”

“Of course!” Steve rushed out the moment the words left Tony’s lips, every nerve in his body coiled with anticipation, an overwhelming urge to immediately meet every single one of Tony’s needs. He tossed back the comforter so that Tony could climb in, but Tony had climbed over him, slipping in behind him instead. Then he tangled his legs through Steve’s, pulling Steve tightly against his chest, inhaling deeply as he rested his forehead against Steve’s neck.

That had surprised Steve.

He had expected Tony to climb in front, had expected to be able to wrap his arms around his boy, hold him, shield him, protect him. But as he settled back against Tony, reaching up to grasp Tony’s hand in his own, their fingers intertwined against his heart, the heat from Tony’s body seeping into his back, he thought… he thought he might actually like this better, and that surprised him, too. He’d never been held before – or rather, he’d never been held like this before – with this kind of unguarded intimacy, like he was the one being protected, the one being cared for, for once, and it made him feel somehow both fragile and secure at the same time.

He turned towards Tony then, the memory of that moment filling him with another rush of emotions. He smiled, unable to hold it back as he watched Tony sleep. Running his fingers through Tony’s sleep-tousled hair, he stroked his thumb along Tony’s cheek, and Tony turned his face instinctually into his palm, nuzzling his nose and lips against the sensitive skin.

He bit his lip. He really didn’t want to have to wake up alone tomorrow.

He groaned lightly, drawing his hand back reluctantly. He would give anything to be able to stay here, warm in this bed with Tony, curled up together against the cruelty and injustice of the outside world. But it was already later than he’d planned to get up – after nine judging by the sun – and he had a lot to take care of today before he went into work.

He made sure Tony was still bundled up tightly in the blankets before – again, quite reluctantly – extricating himself from Tony’s embrace, being extra careful not to wake him. Tony looked almost serene, at peace in a way that Steve wasn’t sure that he’d ever seen him look before, the quiet sorrow that had seemed etched into his features for so long suddenly vanished without a trace.

He slipped out from under the covers, grimacing slightly at the sudden lack of warmth, the sudden lack of Tony against his skin. If he didn’t absolutely have to leave, he would have climbed right back into the bed for the rest of the day. He swore lightly to himself, quickly grabbing a worn pair of jeans and a soft flannel shirt before slipping into the bathroom for a quick shower.

He was going to give Tony’s apartment complex absolute hell for dragging him out of bed when he could have spent the morning holding Tony in his arms instead.

It was late by the time he got home, much later than he had intended, the morning having long since passed into afternoon, and the guilt from that weighed slightly at the back of his mind. He’d left a note for Tony, explaining that he’d be back soon, and then he’d been gone for hours.

That was partially because Tony’s apartment complex had been less than receptive to his demands that they fix Tony’s heat immediately. Or at least, they had been until he’d gone back and threatened to get his lawyer involved, at which point they had quickly changed their tune. Technically speaking, Matt Murdock wasn’t actually his lawyer, but he was a lawyer – a lawyer with a reputation for suing slumlords – and he and his boyfriend Frank also happened to be regulars at The Commando. Steve was fairly certain he could call in a favor if need be. Especially if that favor was for Tony, who had charmed his way into the hearts of his regulars almost as easily as he’d charmed his way into Steve’s.

The bank had also taken him longer than he had anticipated. He’d never shown up to his financial advisor’s without an appointment before, but this was important, so he’d been willing to wait. He was fairly certain his advisor thought he had lost his mind, but he didn’t care. The truth was, he knew what he wanted now more than he ever had in the past. His future felt clear to him in a way that it never had before.

As atonement for being gone for so long he’d stopped by Tony’s favorite bakery for sandwiches and coffee. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever admit this to Tony, but Tatte’s coffee actually was a lot better than Dunkin’s – yes, he’d seen Tony’s horrified expression when he’d given his answer to the favorite coffee shop question.

Honestly, he’d just never really put much thought into it before. Coffee had always just been coffee, and Dunkin’s was at the very least better than the bitter sludge they had served in the army. But now, now he didn’t think he’d ever go back to Dunkin’s. Tony had reminded him what it felt like to take pleasure from the small things in life.

He eased open the front door, easily juggling his keys and the bag of sandwiches in his right hand and the coffees in his left hand. There were some advantages to being a server. He heard sounds coming from the kitchen as he kicked the door closed with his heel.

So, Tony was up then, not that that should have been a surprise, given how late in the day it was, but Tony hadn’t answered any of his texts yet, and that was a surprise.

As was the scene that greeted him as he entered the kitchen.

Tony was balanced on one knee on top of the counter, arms stretched overhead as he rummaged through one of the cabinets, his other leg hanging off the side, toes pointed to the floor. The position – impractical as it was – did wonders for the long line that ran from his hip through his leg, the curve of his ass into the dip of his back – which Steve suspected was the intent.

He had changed out of the baggy MIT t-shirt and sweatpants that he’d gone to sleep in, now dressed – if one could call it that – in the blue button down that Steve had worn the previous night, and a pair of tight, red boyshorts that seemed to be almost perfectly sculpted to his ass.

Steve swallowed thickly, grinning to himself as he set the food and coffees on the kitchen table. Okay, breakfast could wait, then. He leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms over his chest and cleared his throat.

Tony didn’t startle, not that he had expected him to – Tony clearly already knew that he was home. Instead, Tony slowly, lithely, turned to face him, one leg curled under him as he sat on the counter. He chewed his bottom lip, biting back the satisfied smirk that tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“I was looking for the coffee,” Tony said simply, answering a question that Steve hadn’t asked.

Steve hadn’t asked, because he already knew exactly what Tony was doing. “Hmm,” he hummed, allowing his eyes to trail over to the coffee pot, currently half full a few feet away on the counter. “Looks like you found it.”

Tony smirked openly then, completely unfazed, purposefully caught in the lie. He jumped down from the counter with the grace and agility of a cat, casually stalking towards Steve, a predator approaching his prey.

Gone was the heartbroken, vulnerable boy of last night. In his place was the playful, calculating, determined boy from the party. The one that knew exactly how to press Steve’s buttons. And he was pressing every single one of them right now.

If Tony wanted to play, that was fine. Steve would just need to make it clear who made the rules for the game.

“I woke up and you weren’t here,” Tony said, the hint of an edge in his tone making his displeasure known. Tony was definitely upset with him, then. It made sense, now that he thought about it. Tony only tended to act out when he wanted his attention. “You said you wouldn’t leave, and then you weren’t here.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, because it was true – he’d wanted nothing more than to be there when Tony woke up – and because Tony was right – he should have been there when Tony woke up. “There were some things that I needed to do.”

“Things that were more important than me?” Tony asked, and that edge was still there, but this time a hint of vulnerability bled through. Tony was acting out, toying with him, playfully punishing him, but there was an underlying anxiety there as well, a fear that what he said was actually true.

“There’s nothing more important than you,” Steve replied, grabbing Tony’s hips and pulling them towards him. Tony must have taken a shower, because now he smelled like his soap. He let his thumbs rest on Tony’s hip bones, under the shirt, just above the waistband of Tony’s Calvin Kleins, the tips of his fingers teasing along the bottom edge of the briefs, and Tony let out a delighted gasp, unable to hide the curve of a smile on his lips, even though he tried. “You’re wearing my shirt,” he said, his voice low.

“It smells like you,” Tony answered, the twist of a smirk returning, because Tony knew him, knew exactly what seeing him in his shirt was doing to him.

“I like you in my shirt.” It was true, he liked it, but he also liked that Tony understood him so well, could tease him, torment him, give just as good as he could get. He wanted Tony to tease him, entice him, provoke him. There was something about Tony that made him want to protect him, conquer him, cherish him, defile him, hold him in his arms and then put him on his knees.

He lifted Tony’s chin, staring into those deep brown eyes. “My boy,” he said. Tony’s smile softened then, a blush creeping into his cheeks, and something fluttered in Steve’s chest. There… there it was, that gorgeous blush. “Do you like being my boy?”

“Yes,” Tony whimpered, his voice just above a whisper.

“Do you like driving me absolutely crazy with desire?”

“Yes,” Tony repeated, leaning into Steve, the curve of his hip pressing against Steve’s cock, and Steve felt it twitch in response, heat beginning to pool somewhere low in his gut.

“Yeah?” he asked, shoving his thigh between Tony’s legs, his fingers curling around to cup the bottom of Tony’s ass as he pulled him even closer, Tony’s cock already full and hard, pressing against his leg. “And is this what you wanted when you decided to put on this little performance?”

“Yes,” Tony gasped, his eyes fluttering closed, and Steve had to bite back his own moan as Tony rolled his hips, grinding his cock against his thigh.

It was taking every ounce of his willpower not to just take Tony right then and there, to lift him right back into that counter and show him exactly where these types of games led.

But no. Not like this. Not like…

That’s when he saw it.

The thin, silver, steel ball chain around Tony’s neck.

His eyes narrowed as he stared down at Tony before carefully pulling the chain from under Tony’s – his – shirt. Two small, rectangular stainless steel plates fell against Tony’s chest. Tony immediately reached up, clutching his hand around the dog tags, his eyes flashing up to meet Steve’s. “Steve,” he cried, slight panic in his voice, suddenly afraid that he may have taken the game too far. “I – I’m sorry… they were on top of the bureau, and I… I wanted to feel like I was…”

“Mine,” Steve growled.

“Yes,” Tony breathed out, and that was when Steve’s willpower completely abandoned him.

“Mine,” he said, again and again, his voice deep as he spun Tony around, backing him against the wall. “Mine,” and his mouth was on Tony, on his lips, under his ear, bruising kisses along his neck. “Mine,” marking him, claiming him, so that anyone who laid eyes on him would know that Tony was his, and not to be touched.

Tony tilted his head to the side, exposing his neck to Steve’s mouth, Steve’s lips, Steve’s teeth, and “Yes,” Tony whimpered, again and again, and his hands were on Steve, caressing his body. “Yes,” raking down Steve’s back, under his shirt. “Yes,” fingertips teasing across Steve’s skin, the hard lines of his chest.

“Tony,” Steve said, his voice rough with the longing and lust that he’d been fighting for weeks.

“Yes, Steve,” Tony moaned. “God, yes. Please.”

He moved his hands to Tony’s hips, and Tony, instantly understanding, threw his arms around Steve’s neck and jumped into his arms, wrapping his legs around Steve’s waist.

Steve moved towards the bedroom and Tony threw his head back, rolling his hips against Steve’s. He looked beautiful, sinful, utterly debauched, hair tousled, lips swollen and deep red, skin flushed with the heat of desire, and suddenly Steve had the savage thought that he’d done this. He’d made Tony look like this. He gave another growl then mouthed along Tony’s collarbone, licking, nipping at the chain with his teeth, the taste metallic against his tongue.

“You’re mine,” he said.

“I’m yours,” Tony repeated.

“Only mine.”

“Only yours.”

“If your ex ever tries to touch what’s mine again, I’m going to break his arm.”

“Fuck, Steve,” Tony said, and he crashed their mouths together, ferociously licking along Steve’s lips, nipping at the lower lip with his teeth before drawing Steve’s tongue into his mouth. Steve moaned, a low rumble from the back of his throat. If he wasn’t careful they weren’t going to make it to the bedroom and he was going to fuck Tony right there on the floor.

No, he sternly reminded himself. Not like this.

He would do it, though, one day. Fuck Tony on the floor, on the couch, on that kitchen counter, the table, on every surface of his house, in every way that he could, and fuck, he had never had thoughts like this before, had never felt like this about anyone else before. Mine, mine, mine, the word rang through his mind, like a warning, like a promise.

But not now. Not for the first time.

He set Tony on the bed, and Tony leaned back, one leg stretched out in front of him, the other curled towards his chest as he leaned his weight on his hands, back arched deliciously, the hard fullness of his cock straining against the tight red silk of his briefs. He was showing off, Steve knew that, knew that he was falling right in line with Tony’s plans, going exactly where Tony led, but he was okay with that.

Because he wanted this, because he needed this, because he could follow where Tony led, give him what he wanted, because this was a game that they both enjoyed, this power struggle between them – this was exactly why he’d fallen for Tony so hard – and this, this was just going to make it all the sweeter when Tony finally did submit. Because Tony would submit. He knew that, Tony knew that, they both knew it, that Steve was really the one that was in charge, the one that made the game’s rules, that they would only go as far as he allowed.

He sat at the foot of the bed, taking a moment to drink in the vision that was Tony, in his bed, waiting for him to make a move. He watched as Tony stared up at him, deep brown eyes lined with dark, full lashes, red, plump lips slightly parted, his breathing slightly ragged as impatience flickered across his features and he couldn’t believe that he’d gotten so lucky, that someone so smart, so beautiful, so alluring would ever be interested in him.

Tony shifted his gaze downward, flushing slightly under the attention. “You’re so beautiful,” Steve murmured softly, and Tony blushed even harder then. “You don’t even know how incredible you are, do you? How lucky I am to have you.”

Tony moved towards him then, kneeling on the bed in front of him as he took Steve’s hand in his own. “I’m the lucky one,” he said, and kissed the back of Steve’s knuckle, the tip of his tongue peeking out to trail a line between two fingers.

Then he sat back slightly, looking suddenly shy as he bit his lip, his expression pensive. “I don’t really know how to do this,” he said after a moment, then somehow blushed even more. “I mean, I know how… I – I don’t know how to do this with you,” he stammered, “the way I want to do this with you.”

"That's okay. I do."

Okay, that was maybe not the smartest thing he could have said at this exact moment. To be fair, all the blood in his body was rushing from his brain to his cock, so it was a little hard to form coherent thoughts.

“Wait, have you done this before?” Tony asked, and there was that edge in his voice again.

“Done what?” Steve asked, unable to hide his confusion. Certainly Tony didn’t think he was a virgin.

Tony’s features hardened, his eyes narrowing, and later, Steve would swear that he actually saw his nostrils flare. He grabbed Steve by the front of his shirt, tackling him to the bed, his legs on either side of Steve’s hips. “Have you done this before?” he asked again, leaning down, his face mere centimeters from Steve’s, breathing heavily as he searched Steve’s face. “Had this kind of relationship? With someone like me?”

Ah. No, okay, that made sense.

Steve shook his head, surprised but also pleased by Tony’s possessiveness. “No,” he said honestly, grinning as he reached up to stroke Tony’s cheek. He’d never really had a relationship like this before. He’d dabbled, in the past, maybe slightly more than dabbled, but nothing serious, and nothing like what he hoped he and Tony might have one day. “I’ve never been with anyone like you.”

“Ever?”

“Ever,” Steve confirmed.

Tony sat back, looking satisfied. “Good. Because you’re mine, too.”

“I’m yours,” Steve repeated.

“Only mine.”

“Only yours.”

Tony made a move for the button of his jeans then, but Steve wasn’t ready to allow that. Not yet. It was time to start establishing who was actually in charge. Quickly reversing their positions, he easily flipped Tony onto his back, straddling his thighs. Tony groaned in complaint, arching his back to brush the hard line of his cock against the swelling bulge in Steve’s pants and Steve gasped, fighting against his baser instincts, forcing himself to remain in control.

It was torture, in the best possible way, delicious agony, but he bit back his desire to rip that shirt off of Tony’s slim frame, to grind against him, even though his cock was aching for more. He settled his weight back on Tony’s thighs, effectively pinning Tony’s hips to the mattress. Tony whined in discontent, a melody that went straight to his cock. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of that fact, but he was in too deep to start questioning it now.

“Steve,” Tony gasped, panting, almost… almost pleading, but not quite.

“Yes?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his tone as he leaned down to lick a long strip along Tony’s jawline, then down to the pulsepoint at the base of his neck, keeping the pressure light, teasing, and Tony squirmed, growling in frustration.

“Steve,” he whined again, but Steve ignored his – not quite – pleas. He leaned back on his knees, still straddling Tony’s thighs, his fingers moving to the top button of Tony’s shirt. Slowly, carefully, he gently undid the top button before lazily trailing his fingers down to the next button. His movements were slow, deliberate, drawn out for maximum effect – it was excruciating, even for him, but the one benefit of age was patience, and he planned to use that to his fullest advantage.

Tony growled again, scrabbling to help Steve with the buttons, but Steve knocked his hand away. “No,” he said, his tone even, calm. Tony inhaled deeply, defiance flashing through his eyes, and he opened his mouth to complain before seeming to reconsider, his eyes calculating as he studied Steve. “That’s my good boy,” Steve murmured, rewarding Tony’s obedience, fleeting though it may be. It was okay. This was all about learning, establishing the boundaries and rules that would form the foundation of their relationship.

“See, this is what happens when you decide to play games,” Steve explained, and that defiance flashed through Tony’s eyes once more, though he remained still. “I went easy on you after the first time – your little stunt at the pool game – but I won’t do that again. If you want my attention, all you have to do is ask. Because I will give you everything that you want. Everything that you need. But you have to communicate with me.” He leaned down, giving Tony a soft, almost chaste kiss, breaking it only when Tony tried to push for more.

“This relationship,” he continued, “to be the way that you want it to be – the way that I would like it to be – it only works if I have absolute faith that you will always be honest with me about what you want. What you need. And more importantly, what you don’t want. If I can’t trust you to be honest with me, then this isn’t going to work.”

“Steve,” Tony said, his voice trembling slightly.

“I’m telling you this because I want this to work,” he continued. “I’m hoping that you want to make this work, too.”

“I do,” Tony said. “Steve – Sir,” he quickly amended. “I do want this to work.”

“Good.” He smiled, leaning down to give Tony another soft kiss, and this time, Tony didn’t push for more. “I know that you’re learning. So, lesson one…” He slid his fingers under the bottom of Tony’s shirt, trailing them lightly under Tony’s navel, tracing the thin line of hair that disappeared into the top of Tony’s briefs, and Tony sucked in a sharp breath, his hips struggling to buck under Steve’s weight. “...If you’re going to play games and make me guess what you want, well, then, I’m going to have to take my time to figure it out.”

He undid the shirt’s second button. It was so big on Tony that it would have been enough for Tony to slip out of it, but Tony didn’t even move, his eyes trained on Steve. Steve pushed the fabric to the side, slipping the sleeve from Tony’s shoulder and uncovering one small, pink nipple. He leaned down, capturing it in his mouth, swirling his tongue over it, and Tony bucked against him again, this time completely involuntarily.

“Fuck, Steve,” he moaned, but it came out sounding strained, guttural, uncontrolled. He made another move for the button on Steve’s jeans, but Steve was quicker, pinning his hand to the bed by his head.

“Not yet.”

Tony squirmed, another growl of frustration. “Please, fuck, please. Steve!” Then, “Sir,” he quickly corrected again. “Sir, please. I’ll be good. Please. Sir!”

Now that… that was pleading. And it hadn’t taken very long at all.

He gently licked along Tony’s neck, allowing those words to wash over him, savoring the sound of them on Tony’s lips before pressing his mouth lightly against Tony’s ear. “That’s not going to work this time,” he breathed, and Tony shivered underneath him. “Lesson two is a lesson in patience.”

He sat back, carefully undoing the remaining buttons of the shirt, grinning to himself as he watched Tony’s internal struggle play out in those deep brown eyes, the competing desire to be obstinate at war with his desire to be submissive. Steve had a feeling he knew which one would win out in the end, but this was something he was going to have to allow Tony to discover for himself.

He helped Tony lean up so that he could slip the shirt off, tossing it in a rumpled heap on the floor. Tony laid back on the bed, staring up at him, eyes wide, pupils blown, the silver dog tags resting against his heaving chest. Mine, Steve thought again, his eyes tracing over the contours of Tony’s body for the first time, then trailing down to the tantalizing line of fine hair under Tony’s navel. All mine. No one but me will ever touch this again.

And that thought stirred something in him, even as he pushed it away, because it was too much, the emotions, the intimacy, the utter certainty that it was true. He shifted, leaning down to trace his tongue along that line of hair, and Tony jerked under him again. “Christ, Steve, please. I’m begging you.”

He was, and it made Steve’s cock weep. He wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to be able to hold out. “What do you want?” he asked, breathing against Tony’s skin.

“Anything!” Tony cried out.

He sat back, giving a slightly dramatic disappointed sigh, even though he was grinning inside. “Still making me guess, Tony?”

“Steve!” Tony whined.

Steve ignored him, moving to unbutton the top few buttons of his own shirt. He watched as Tony stared at him, biting his lip as more and more skin was revealed. “Do you like what you see?” he asked, and Tony nodded. “Want to see more?” Tony nodded emphatically. “Then ask me.”

Tony's eyes shifted downwards then, another blush creeping into his cheeks as he worked his bottom lip with his teeth even more.

“You're not used to asking for what you want,” Steve mused, keeping his voice gentle. “You’re used to having to play games. But you don’t have to do that with me. So, lesson three. Ask for what you want. And I’ll give it to you.”

Tony didn’t respond right away, and Steve could tell he was debating what to do. He waited, forcing himself to be patient, to not push as he unbuttoned his sleeves. Finally, Tony nodded. “Can I take off your shirt?”

Steve nodded his consent, and Tony didn’t hesitate. Surging forward, he didn’t even bother with any more of the buttons, yanking the shirt over Steve’s head and tossing it somewhere in the corner of the room. Steve didn’t see where it went, but he also didn’t really care, because Tony’s naked skin was pressed against his, and that was suddenly the only thing that mattered anymore.

He pressed Tony back against the mattress again, lining up their bodies, hip to hip, cock to cock, naked chest to naked chest. He ran his hands over every inch of Tony that he could reach, learning every line and every curve, memorizing every gasp and shudder. Then he tilted Tony’s head back, pressing his lips against Tony’s, deepening the kiss.

“Please,” Tony whispered against his mouth once more.

And that was when Steve’s resolve finally gave in.

Sliding his hand down to Tony’s waist, he gave his ass a squeeze before rolling over onto his side. He pulled the front of Tony’s briefs down, freeing his cock. Tony’s cock was beautiful, cut, not as thick as his own, but maybe longer, flushed deep red and leaking from the tip. He wrapped his fingers around it, the feel of it, the weight of it in his hand, the smooth skin against his palm causing his brain to short circuit slightly, the words mine and I don’t deserve this, a tumultuous war in his mind.

“Steve!” Tony gasped, thrusting up into his palm. He squeezed as tightly as he dared without lube, then pulled his hand away. Tony let out a strangled cry. “Please, Steve, please, I’ve wanted this for so long, I’ve wanted you for so long, please don’t stop.”

He kissed the top of Tony’s head, running his fingers through the mop of dark curls. “I’m gonna take care of you,” he said, softly. “I’m gonna make you feel good. So good, I promise. But first I want you to do something for me, okay?”

Tony gave him a questioning stare, but he didn’t elaborate, instead taking Tony’s hand in his own. Then he licked the length of Tony’s palm, running his tongue between the fingers before drawing two of them into his mouth, getting them spit-slick and wet. “What are you doing?” Tony asked once Steve pulled his fingers from his mouth, a hitch in his voice.

He moved Tony’s hand to his cock, covering Tony’s hand with his own as he wrapped Tony’s fingers around it. “Touch yourself,” he said. “I want to watch you.” Tony’s face clouded slightly then, his eyes searching Steve’s. He didn’t voice any objections, but Steve could tell there was a question there, something that he was afraid to ask. “Do you trust me to take care of you?”

Tony nodded, relaxing slightly as he tightened the grip on his cock, and Steve let go, propping his head on his palm as he watched Tony slide his hand along his cock, slow, even pulls, swiping his thumb over the head. It was a practiced move, Steve could tell, something that Tony liked, and he filed that bit of information away for future reference.

Tony squeezed his eyes shut, turning his face towards Steve, biting his lip as he fucked up into his hand. “Steve,” the name tumbled from his lips, his voice caught somewhere between a gasp and a moan.

“That’s good,” Steve said, unbuttoning his jeans to relieve just enough of the pressure. He was not about to come in his pants like a goddamn teenager, though if there was anyone that could make him feel like a horny oversexed teenager again, it was Tony. “You’re doing so good for me,” he murmured softly, running his hands over Tony’s chest, pinching his nipples between thumb and finger before trailing down to caress his abs, his hip, the curve of his ass. “But I don’t want you to come. Not yet. I want you to take yourself right up to the edge, and then stop. Can you do that for me, Tony? Can you stop right before you come?”

“I don’t know,” Tony said, his breaths coming faster now.

“Just try for me.” He leaned down to nuzzle the spot under Tony’s ear. “You’re so beautiful, you know that? I love seeing you like this.” He paused, kissing Tony on the shoulder, then asked what he really wanted to ask. “When was the last time you did this?”

Tony’s hand faltered slightly. “Don’t stop,” Steve said, kissing the side of Tony’s neck, and Tony’s hand picked up speed again, urgent low moans tumbling from his lips. “When was the last time you did this?” he repeated, keeping his voice soft.

“We–Wednesday morning,” Tony stammered, his hips thrusting now.

“What did you think about on Wednesday morning when you did this?” Steve asked, continuing to run his hands over Tony’s body, caressing him, stroking him, peppering him with soft kisses.

“Y-you.”

Tony’s answer wasn’t a surprise, but hearing him say it out loud still sent a wave of heat curling into his gut. Just the thought of Tony doing this by himself, thinking of him, it hit Steve hard in that moment, and he let out his own strangled moan, grinding his cock against Tony’s hip before he could stop himself. He bit down on his lip, forcing himself back under control. “And what did you think about me doing?”

Tony didn’t answer him, turning his face away, but he continued stroking his cock, his breathing heavy, interrupted by short, quick moans, louder now, and faster, mouth hanging open, his features scrunching with pleasure, and Steve could tell that he was close.

“Don’t come,” he reminded gently, putting pressure on Tony’s hip to keep him from thrusting so hard, then, “Tony, look at me.” Tony turned to him, opening his eyes. “What did you think about me doing?”

“I–” Tony began, and Steve could see the conflict in his eyes. “Steve.”

He didn’t say anything, though it was killing him, watching Tony struggle so hard to ask for what he wanted. Instead, he pulled him in for a kiss. He was close, Steve could tell, so close. He could tell that Tony was thinking about it, whatever fantasy he had had, was imagining it in his mind. There was no way that he was going to last much longer. He leaned in, whispering in Tony’s ear.

“Remember lesson three.”

“I want to come in your mouth!” The cry tore from Tony’s throat as he yanked his hand away from his cock, a choked out sob, chest heaving, and he immediately turned on his side, curling himself into Steve’s arms. “I want to come, but I don’t want to make myself do it,” he said, burying his head in Steve’s chest, and there were tears in the corners of his eyes. “Please, Steve, I want you to make me come.”

Steve immediately wrapped Tony in his arms, pulling him closer, rubbing his hand along his back. “Shhh,” he murmured, kissing the top of Tony’s head, his heart aching as he realized he’d uncovered something much deeper than he’d been expecting. He wondered if Tony had ever just been taken care of, if anyone had ever just focused on his pleasure. No ulterior motives, no expectation for reciprocation, just pleasure given for the sake of giving pleasure. “You did such a good job for me, Tony. You were so good for me. I’m so proud of you.”

He laid Tony back on the bed. This new revelation definitely called for a slight change in his plans. “I’m gonna take care of you,” he said, caressing Tony’s cheek. He moved to the foot of the bed, kneeling between Tony’s legs as he unzipped his jeans. He let out a restrained groan, his eyes fluttering closed as he gripped his cock, pulling it lightly upwards, the tip peeking out from the top of his boxers, desperate for even a little relief. Then he reached up and slid Tony’s briefs the rest of the way off, dropping them on the floor behind him.

The sight of Tony on his bed, his dog tags the only thing obscuring the miles of beautiful, naked skin laid out before him was enough to take his breath away, and he held back for just a moment.

“What?” Tony asked.

“Nothing, it’s just…” He paused, unable to find the words to describe what he was feeling. “You’re so beautiful. You’re so good for me that sometimes I can’t actually believe that you’re here with me. You could have anyone you wanted, but you chose me.”

“I’m here with you, Steve,” Tony said. “And I don’t ever want to be anywhere else. I chose you because I trust you.” Tony stared at him, his mouth working slightly, like he was holding back some unspoken emotion, then finally he broke into a mischievous grin, lifting his foot and playfully poking Steve in the chest with his toes. “And because you’re fucking gorgeous. Now, are you going to just sit there and stare, or are you going to make good on your promise?”

He gave a surprised yelp when Steve caught his ankle in his hand. Steve gave him his own mischievous smile. “Oh, I’m gonna make good on my promise, alright.”

“You better,” Tony grinned. “Because I was good for you.”

“You were good for me.”

“I did what you asked.”

“You did everything that I asked.”

“It was hard,” Tony said.

“I know,” Steve said, even though he wasn’t sure if Tony meant denying himself his pleasure, or asking for it.

He turned, placing a soft kiss on the bone of Tony’s ankle, and Tony squirmed, but Steve held his leg firm. Shifting Tony’s foot so that it was resting on his shoulder he slowly moved forward, trailing kisses along Tony’s calf. Tony squirmed again when he licked the back of his knee. He grinned. “You’re ticklish. Definitely gonna use that to my advantage in the future.”

Tony glared at him, but there was no heat behind it. “That’s not fair.”

“Seems perfectly fair to me,” Steve said, placing another soft kiss on the back of the knee, delighting in Tony’s squirms.

“Steve!” Tony whimpered, and Steve didn’t think he would ever get tired of hearing that particular noise come from Tony’s lips. “Please.”

“I will,” Steve said. “I’m gonna give you everything you want.”

He continued kissing his way down Tony’s leg, now alternating soft kisses with gentle nips of his teeth with sucking light bruises into Tony’s skin. He paused when he got to the top of Tony’s thigh, before licking a long strip right in the crease, where pillow soft skin became feather soft hair.

“Fuck! Steve!” Tony cried.

“We can do that, too,” Steve said, settling back on his knees again, Tony’s leg, now curled toward his chest, still resting on his shoulder. “But not today… today is just about you.”

Tony inhaled then. “Steve.”

“It’s okay.” He grabbed Tony’s other leg. Then he pushed against both of Tony’s thighs, pressing them to Tony’s chest. He looked down, relishing the sight of Tony spread out before him, like some decadent feast, cock hard and leaking against his stomach, balls between his legs, light pink hole on display. Tempting. Tantalizing. “I want to do this for you more than I want to do anything else.”

He could see the moment Tony realized what he was about to do, dawning realization flooding his features, his eyes becoming hazy with need. “Steve,” Tony panted, and he realized that no one had ever done this for Tony before. He was going to be the first. The only, that voice in the back of his mind said, the same one that said, mine, and need, and want, and mine.

He took a moment to press the palm of his hand against his cock. He was hard, dripping precum, and nearly out of his mind with desire and lust, but he forced all of that down. This was about Tony, only Tony, it was not about chasing his own pleasure today.

The sound that Tony made the first time he licked him, from his hole up to his balls, was a memory that Steve was going to cherish for the rest of his life. At first Tony jerked away, before pushing back towards him, his gasp a tangled mess of Steve and Fuck and Oh my god.

He took Tony’s hands and placed them on the back of his thighs. “Hold your legs for me, okay?” Tony didn’t hesitate, quickly obeying, his head lifted from the bed, eyes trained on Steve, so Steve took his time, his eyes meeting Tony’s, watching Tony as Tony watched him. He leaned down, letting a thin string of spit fall from his mouth to Tony’s hole.

He spread the spit with the tip of his thumb, not pushing in, but pressing just hard enough to heighten the anticipation. Tony whimpered, staring at him through his legs, eyes unblinking. And then he leaned down, running the flat of his tongue over Tony’s hole, before curling his tongue and pushing the tip inside. Tony keened, whimpers building up from the back of his throat as Steve pressed his tongue in, again and again.

He could have spent hours eating Tony out, but that wasn’t what Tony had asked for. He gave one last lick, up Tony’s perineum and across his balls, drawing first one, and then the other into his mouth, sucking lightly, as Tony whispered his name, again and again, like a prayer, like an anthem, like a vow.

He leaned back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before knocking Tony’s hands out of the way and pressing his feet to the bed. Honestly, it was an intoxicating experience, seeing Tony like this, his hands clutching the sheets, needy and desperate, knowing that he was the one that made him this way.

Moving fast, without giving Tony any warning, he leaned down again, licking Tony’s cock from the base to the tip. Tony’s whimpers became a shout, tearing through him as he arched his back off of the bed, hips bucking, though Steve’s weight prevented him from thrusting too hard.

He lapped at the head, tonguing the slit, the precum slightly sweet on his tongue. He swirled his tongue over the head before sucking it into his mouth, his lips sliding along the length of Tony’s cock. It bumped against the back of his throat before he stopped moving, Tony a trembling mess underneath him.

It had been a long long time since he’d last done this, and he counted to five, breathing through his nose as he accustomed himself to this feeling before sliding his lips back along Tony’s cock, then back down again.

Tony cried out, choked out cries that nearly verged on sobs ripping from somewhere deep inside his chest, his hips stuttering with tenuous restraint. Steve rose up slowly, eyes trained on Tony’s as he released Tony’s cock from his mouth. Tony leaned his head up, staring down at Steve, mouth open wide, breaths heavy, the question of whether something was wrong clear in his eyes.

“You don’t have to hold yourself back,” Steve said, and Tony shuddered at those words.

Then, just as quickly as he’d done the first time, he took Tony’s cock back into his mouth. Tony’s head fell back against the bed, another sharp shout devolving into a panted moans. His own cock was painfully hard, and he ground his hips against the mattress, seeking what little relief he could find.

Tony, nervously embracing the permission he’d been given, gave a tentative thrust upwards. Steve reached up, squeezing Tony’s hand to assure him that it was okay, then moved Tony’s hand to the back of his head. Tony’s fingers immediately tightened, tangling locks of his hair in a hesitant grip.

He fucked up into Steve’s mouth harder then, slowly at first, then faster as he found his rhythm, head titled back, Steve’s name tumbling from his mouth as he lost himself in the pleasure. He curled his fingers in Steve’s hair, tugging slightly, just to the side of that pleasurable sort of pain, and Steve groaned around the cock in his mouth, his own cock aching with need.

Tony’s thrusts came faster, rougher, as he pushed Steve’s head down to meet each thrust, and Steve relaxed his throat, spit dribbling from his mouth. He choked slightly, his eyes watering as he allowed Tony to use his mouth as he pleased.

“Oh, fuck, so good,” Tony babbled, his words only making Steve harder. “Fuck, Steve, god, this feels so good. You feel so good. Oh, my god, Steve. Steve, I’m gonna–”

Steve shifted, holding Tony’s hips down as he pulled away, circling his finger and thumb around the base of Tony’s cock. He wasn’t ready for Tony to come just yet. Tony let out an almost pained cry as he was brought back from the edge for the second time. He lifted his head, staring at Steve blearily through blissed eyes. “Steve,” he said, his voice a rough whisper.

Steve sat back in a kneeling position between Tony’s legs. “Don’t worry,” he assured him. “I’m going to take care of you. You’ve been so good for me, Tony, and I’m going to take such good care of you.”

Making sure Tony was still watching, he slipped his jeans and boxers from his hips. Tony sucked in a sharp breath, moaning lightly at the sight. Steve knew he looked good naked. He’d had enough one-night stands marvel over the size, thickness and shape of his cock. But nothing had ever made him feel sexier than the way that Tony was looking at him right now.

“Steve.” He moved to sit up, hunger in his eyes, like he also wanted to claim Steve, to own him, consume him, heart, body, and soul.

“Just lay back. Let me take care of you.” Tony hesitated, his throat working before he nodded, settling back against the bed. Steve crawled over him again, his hands on either side of Tony’s chest.

He could show off, too.

They were almost eye level as Steve leaned over far enough to get his knees off of the bed. He shifted his weight to one hand, the muscles in his core tightening as he held his weight mere inches over Tony’s body, so close that he could feel the heat radiating from Tony’s skin. “Jesus,” Tony breathed, his eyes trained on the muscles of Steve’s abs. Steve slid his jeans and boxers past his knees, then shifted his weight back to both arms, pushing his pants the rest of the way off with his feet.

Tony reached up, running his hand over Steve’s pec, biting his lip hard as he traced the curve of the muscle with his thumb. Then he leaned up on one elbow, his other hand reaching to the back of Steve’s neck, thumb tracing lightly along Steve’s cheek. “Steve,” he whispered, straining upward, his teeth clicking together in a bite that didn’t quite reach Steve’s lip. “Get down here. Please.”

Steve leaned down slowly, giving Tony the kiss he so desperately wanted, and he wondered if Tony could taste himself on his lips, the thought sending a thrill shooting through his body. Tony moaned into his mouth, wrapping his leg around Steve’s waist and pulling him flush against his own body.

He ran his hand down Tony’s thigh, cupping Tony’s ass, then gave a slight push of his hips. Tony threw his head back, eyes closed, a groan on his lips as their cocks rubbed together. “Steve,” he moaned, and Steve pushed harder as Tony lifted his hips, meeting Steve’s thrusts as he tried to increase the friction between them.

They were hot, panting, dripping in sweat, and it was the sexiest thing Steve had ever experienced. He leaned up on one arm again, licking his own palm before reaching between them, grasping both of their cocks in his hand, one finger between them, stroking both of their cocks together.

Tony was moaning incoherently again, his breath hot against Steve’s skin as he rocked their bodies together, alternating swiping his thumb over first the head of Tony’s cock and then his own. “Tony,” he breathed, and then, “Tony,” again and again, a warm, pleasant pressure building at the base of his spine, and he knew if they continued for much longer they were both going to come.

The idea of Tony covered in a mixture of their come was almost enough to make him keep going, but this wasn’t what Tony had asked for. He groaned, tearing his hand away as he rolled over onto his back next to Tony.

“Fuck, Steve!” Tony cried out, his voice cracking in frustration as he was yanked from the edge of his orgasm once again. He immediately reached for his own cock, but Steve caught his wrist, knocking his hand to the side.

“I thought you wanted me to make you come with my mouth,” he said, giving Tony a devilish grin.

“And I was about to when you stopped,” Tony snapped, looking adorably cranky, and Steve had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning even more.

“Only temporarily,” he said, placing a quick kiss on the top of Tony’s head. Tony, unappeased by Steve’s words, merely grunted in response, angrily pouting, and Steve laughed, causing Tony to have to bite back his own grin.

“I hate lesson two,” he grumbled.

“Do you?” Steve asked, turning to face Tony, searching his face. He didn’t want to push Tony too far, too fast. It was also possible that he had completely misread Tony, though he didn’t think so.

Tony stared back at him, his expression thoughtful. “If I say yes, will you let me come now?”

He considered the request. “Yes,” he said, and he meant it. He’d told Tony he would give him whatever he asked for, and that was a promise he intended to keep. But then, acting purely on instinct, he added, “Do you really want to come now?”

Tony didn’t answer right away, turning his face into Steve’s shoulder. “No,” he said finally, his cheeks flushing bright red once again. “I – Steve, I – I’ve never felt anything like this before. I want to come so bad, but there’s something so incredibly hot about not knowing if you’ll let me.” He breathed out, meeting Steve’s gaze, that gorgeous pink tinge still highlighting his cheeks. “I – I think I really like you being in control.”

Steve grinned, pleased that his intuition had proven to be correct. He leaned in close. “Just imagine,” he said, his voice low, “when you finally do come, it will be screaming my name and down the back of my throat.”

Tony shuddered. “Steve. Please.”

“Soon,” he whispered. Then he rolled over, opening the drawer of the nightstand to retrieve the half-empty bottle of lube, left over from the past month of not not thinking about Tony. Tony eyed him, his expression a mixture of suspicion and cautious optimism.

“Steve?” Tony asked, licking his lips. “Please tell me you’re going to let me come this time.”

Of course he was, he’d already decided that. Tony had been so good for him, he’d absolutely earned it. But Tony had also just told him, even if he hadn’t meant to, that he liked not knowing. “You’re not regretting your choice already, are you?” he asked, partially as a deflection and partially just to reassure himself. He opened the bottle of lube and poured it over his fingers, allowing time for Tony to respond, but Tony immediately shook his head.

“Good,” he said, dropping the bottle. “But if you want to change something, then I want you to say ‘yellow’. And if you want to stop all together, you need to say ‘red’. If everything’s good, then you can say ‘green’. Does that sound okay?”

Tony was watching him intently as he moved his hand between his legs, and he spread his legs further. “Tony?” Steve prodded. “I need to know if you understand and if that’s okay.”

Tony nodded. “Red to stop, yellow to pause, and green to go,” he quickly summarized.

“And your color now?”

“Green. Very, very green,” Tony replied, and he wiggled his ass. “Like, so green. Steve. Please.”

Steve bit back a grin as he leaned over Tony once more, his right hand next to Tony’s hip, the fingers of his left hand pressing against Tony’s hole, still wet from his tongue. Tony shifted his hips slightly, biting his lip as Steve pushed one finger in, up to the first knuckle. “It’s been a little while,” he said.

“Just breathe,” Steve reminded him. Tony nodded, as Steve pushed in further, just the one finger for now. Tony’s muscles tightened around him as he pulled his finger almost all the way out. He was tight, so tight, and hot like a furnace, and “Fuck, Tony,” he hissed, feeling his carefully constructed control ebb once more as he imagined what it would feel like to slide his cock into that tight, warm heat.

He pushed back in again, and Tony let his head fall to the side, eyes drifting closed as he gasped out a sigh. “Steve,” he breathed, pushing against Steve’s finger and then pulling away, rocking his hips slightly. “I can take more.”

Steve’s first instinct was to question, to make absolutely sure that Tony was comfortable before moving on, but he pushed that instinct down. Trust was a two-way street. He’d asked Tony to be honest with him, about what he wanted, what he needed, what he could handle, and what he couldn’t, and so far Tony had done exactly that.

He pushed a second finger in, and Tony hissed, grunting slightly before relaxing again, low moans building between panted breaths. Steve’s own cock throbbed from the sight of Tony spread out before, desire, want, need curling in his gut as he looked down, watching his fingers disappear into Tony’s ass. He barely even needed to move his hand as Tony rocked his hips, down and then away, down and then away again, fucking himself on Steve’s fingers.

He leaned back on his knees again, taking Tony’s cock in his other hand, and Tony’s eyes flew open, a strangled moan as his back arched again beautifully before he lifted his hips from the bed. “Steve, please,” he gasped, moans unrestrained now. “Please, Steve. Please, I want to come so bad. Please. Please let me come. I’ve been so good for you, please.”

“You’ve been so good for me,” Steve murmured, adding a third finger, pushing deeper, and Tony wailed out his moan when his fingers brushed against that sensitive bundle of nerves. “So, so very good for me.”

After building him up three times, Steve knew it wasn’t going to take long. He started tensing, his thighs trembling as Steve fingered him, careful to maintain pressure on that spot, now that he’d found it, his other hand stroking Tony’s cock until he knew that Tony’s was poised on the edge once more.

He quickly let go of Tony’s cock, Tony’s dismayed cry sharply cut off as he leaned down, sliding it in his mouth right down to the base. He fought against the urge to gag, swallowing around the head as he massaged Tony’s prostate, and Tony screamed his name, coming in pulsating spurts down his throat, the taste salty and slightly bitter on his tongue. He slipped his mouth from Tony’s cock, licking the head lightly as he worked Tony through the last of his orgasm with his fingers.

Tony blinked up at him, looking thoroughly fucked out as he struggled to catch his breath. “Fuck, Steve,” he panted. “That was… fuck… That was intense. I don’t think I’ve ever come like that, ever.” He swallowed thickly. “That was… that was really fucking incredible.” Steve grinned, settling back onto his knees again. “No, wait,” Tony said. “Wait, wait, come here Steve.” He motioned for Steve to come closer, his breaths still heavy and ragged. “Come here.”

Steve leaned over him again, his knees between Tony’s thighs, and Tony strained upwards to reach him. “Come here,” he repeated before collapsing back on the bed, and Steve leaned down to kiss him.

But Tony had ideas beyond just kissing. He wrapped his hand around Steve’s cock, and a sudden shock of pleasure erupted through his body. Steve broke from the kiss with a shout, thrusting into Tony’s hand before he could stop himself. “Tony,” he gasped, touching his forehead to Tony’s, “you don’t need to do that. It’s okay.”

“Please, Steve, I want to do this,” Tony said, staring up at him with those deep brown eyes. “Please let me do this for you.”

“Tony,” he ground out, unable to pull away even if he’d wanted to, the feel of Tony’s hand wrapped around his cock after all this time somehow both too much and not nearly enough.

“Please,” Tony continued. “I want this Steve, please, I want this so bad. I want to make you come. I want – I want you to mark me, cover me with your come. Come on my face, on my chest, I don’t care, I just want to be yours. I want to be yours and no one else’s.”

Fuck, Tony, mine, he thought, or maybe he said it out loud, he couldn’t even be sure any more, all he knew was that Tony felt perfect, underneath him, in him, around him, covering him, claiming him, owning him, just as much as he was owned by Steve.

He leaned his head down – he needed to see this, needed to watch as the swollen, deep red head of his cock disappeared into Tony’s fist, Tony’s hand flying over over his cock, tugging almost roughly, finding that delicate balance of pleasurepain and it occurred to Steve in that moment that as much as he had an intuition for what Tony wanted, what Tony needed, that Tony seemed to have just as much intuition about him.

He bit his lower lip, closing his eyes as he attempted to hold back his orgasm, but it was a lost cause after all this time, the warm pressure building and buzzing within his gut with increasing intensity until finally he couldn’t hold back anymore. He cried out, his mind going blank as the pressure suddenly released in an intense wave of pleasure radiating throughout his body. He forced his eyes open so that he could watch as the last streams of his release landed on Tony’s chest, over his nipples, pooling in the dip of his chest.

“Fuck, Steve, that was hot,” Tony exclaimed. Steve was inclined to agree, though he didn’t feel like he quite had the mental capacity to voice that at the moment. He collapsed on the bed next to Tony, his heart pounding in his chest. They were both breathing heavily as they laid there, shoulder to shoulder. Tony’s pinky trailed lightly against his and he took Tony’s hand in his own, intertwining their fingers. He turned his head, his eyes immediately straying to the pool of his come on Tony’s chest, and fuck, he thought that might be the sexiest thing he’d ever seen, Tony covered in his come.

Tony turned to meet his gaze, their faces only inches apart, the tease of a smile on his lips, looking sated and content. He ran his other hand through the pool of come, spreading it over his chest with his fingers, then sucked two fingers into his mouth, licking them clean, and yeah, no, actually that was the sexiest thing Steve had ever seen.

Tony grinned at him. “I’m yours,” he said.

“You’re mine.”

Steve didn’t know how long they laid there. He might have even dozed off for a bit, he couldn’t quite be sure, but when he opened his eyes, Tony was curled on his side, still watching him. The come had dried, flaky white streaks on Tony’s chest. It was going to be a bitch to wash off, but Tony didn’t look much like he minded. He just gave Steve another soft smile, and Steve pulled him closer, kissing the top of his head.

It was Steve that finally broke the comfortable silence, and he regretted it almost as soon as the words left his mouth. “I’m sorry you’re going through this,” he said, and he felt Tony tense in his arms.

Unsure of what else to say when Tony didn’t respond, he trailed his fingers lightly against Tony’s skin, wishing that he actually had a way to take away all of Tony’s pain.

After a few moments, Tony finally spoke. “I was going to break up with you,” he said softly, and it was Steve’s turn to tense as his heart suddenly dropped. “After Ty… my ex… the tabloid… everything,” Tony continued, looking up at Steve. “I was going to let you go. Because you don’t deserve to get sucked into all of this… this mess. But then I heard your voice through my door, and I realized that you had found me. That you had come for me. Despite me lying to you. Despite me ignoring your calls. And I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.” He glanced away. “I know it’s selfish. That I shouldn’t make you risk having your name dragged into the tabloids as well. But I really don’t want to let you go, Steve.”

“I really don’t want you to let me go either,” Steve replied, pulling Tony closer, relief flooding through him.

“Even if the papers find out about us?” Tony asked. “Because if Ty finds out about us, then–”

“Then we’ll deal with that when it comes,” Steve interrupted. “Together.”

Tony stared at him again, his eyes seeming to search for any sign of hesitance from him, but he had none to give. He was willing to help Tony weather any storm.

Tony let out a slightly exasperated sigh, like he couldn’t quite believe what Steve had said. “Yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Steve replied.

He leaned up, still eying Steve warily, his eyes slightly narrowed. “So, what’s your color, then? Yellow or green?”

Steve laughed softly. “About being with you?”

“Yeah.”

“Green,” Steve said. “Very, very green. And yours?”

Tony grinned. “Like, so green.”