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Steve tapped the calender with his spoon. “Today's the day,” he stated, cheerily, before dipping said object into his bowl of Wheaties, “Excited?”
Tony returned the smile Steve seemed to sneak to him before taking the spoon into his mouth. “Why wouldn't I be?”
Steve shrugged taking the seat next to him at the bar. “Because you don't actually know what we're doing tonight?” He took another bite, peering down at Tony's custom made tablet—nothing of interest to him, as per usual. Pushing himself to his feet again, Steve slipped Tony a brief, cold, kiss.
“But isn't that the idea?” he didn't even bother looking over his shoulder at the super solider, just turned his face to receive another kiss as he passed.
“I suppose you're right.”
Steve had left him with nothing more than a mere shrug.
–
It was pitch black outside when Steve came trotting down the steps, a graceful handful of number willing the door open. “You're done working for the night. We're going to play now, so go upstairs and take off your clothes. When you're done kneel by the bed—parallel to it.” It was a command and Tony didn't didn't waste any time following orders. He set down the hard drive he'd been tinkering with and pulled off his gloves beginning towards the door as quickly as he could. The longer he spent standing there shedding workshop attire, the longer Steve loomed over him counting the seconds of punishment he'd be receiving tonight.
Halfway up the steps, Tony heard the little open and door close, signifying that Steve was hot on his tail. Steve would take his time, climbing each step with such deliberate, flawless ease it was almost criminal. Tony nearly shivered at the thought.
His climbing of the stairs was so much less of an art form; clumsy, frantic jerks carrying him along the banister then down the hall, until he was at the door of his own bedroom. Stripping off his oil stained tank-top and grime covered jeans, Tony took a moment to toss them into the dirty clothes bin—Steve had really been on his ass about tossing clothes on the ground—and crouched before realizing he'd yet to peal off his darkly tinted briefs. Hearing the heavy steps reach the end of the hall, Tony shimmied out of his underwear and tossed them the way of the bin praying for mercy or luck because really at this point those were his only two options.
Screwing his eyes shut, he listened for the door to be pushed open, “Good. Very good,” Steve drawled, moving toward the dresser instead of the bed.
Tony let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in when Steve returned to his line of sight, a box in his hand.
“I've got something for you Tony, come here.”
And Tony did, not bothering with any words in response. Steve would tell him if he wanted Tony to speak, so it was better to shuffle into his lap and ask questions later.
Smiling, Steve cupped a hand to Tony's face, setting down the box to brush stray strands of hair out of the man's face with his other. “I love you,” he whispered, running the back of his fingers along the curve of Tony's cheek. “It's why I wanted to move things forward, tonight.”
Steve pulled away either of his hands and grabbed the box, lifting the lid slowly, at such an angle that they both could peer inside.
No. No, Steve, no. Please no.
“It's a collar.”
Tony's heart began pumping rapidly as his stomach curled into knots. He was going to be sick—he was going to scream—yell—throw things—run to the garage—
“I'm going to put it on you now.”
Strong, be strong, be Steve's strong boy. Steve's good boy. I can do it, can do it for Steve—
Steve was pinching through the metal loop fastened securely to the front of the collar. He was pulling it out of it's box. Making quick work of the back end. Tightening it around Tony's neck. He screwed his eyes shut, willing the bile crawling up his throat back down before shouting, “Batman! Batman—fucking Batman!”
Not even a full second later Tony was pushing himself against Steve's hot torso, damn near tearing up as he clawed against the back of his neck, panic scrambling his thought process so much so that even the quick pull of leather that would have him free from the damn thing was too puzzling to figure out.
Steve shushed Tony, gathering the man in his arms as he pulled the collar away and slid it under the pillow. “It's okay, it's okay!” he cooed, pressing kiss after kiss along the unshaven bend of Tony's jaw. “It's gone, Tony, it's gone. But you have to tell me why. Why you're not ready.” His tone hadn't stayed sweet, like Tony would have liked it. Instead, Steve had cupped the back of Tony's head harshly and pulled his head away from the crook of his thick warm neck, forcing their eyes to meet. He was disappointed and it was reeking from every visible inch of him.
“Don't Steve, don't! It was too much! I—you know I'm still—”
“—Struggling with your submission?” but it hadn't sounded like a question. It'd sounded like a statement. An angered statement. Steve carded his fingers through Tony's hair, entangling them at the base of his brunette scalp and tugging hard. “You submit to me because you can and you want to. If neither of those reasons stand true today then...” Steve's face grew soft, his hand going limp as he pulled the man under his chin, “...then we don't have to play anymore.”
Tony shook his head violently, pushing Steve away so he could now demand the other's attention. “I want to play Steve. I love you. I love this. I love us. I just...” he reached up to touch gently at his neck, “I'm not ready for that yet...I will be...soon! ...Just...not today.”
It was silent in the moments that followed, and Steve's hard look burned into him until he almost had to look away, but then he was soft again, nodding understandingly as he closed the distance between them with a deep, slow kiss. “Another time then?”
Tony nodded.
“Another time.”