|Sexdrugsand (sexdrugsand) wrote,|
@ 2009-01-28 23:38:00
Without Limitations; Absolute
Title: Without Limitations; Absolute
Pairing: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Summary: This fic follows up from simmysim's After Spring, which you should read first, because it's awesome.
Word count: 6,700
Notes: It's incredibly sappy, but it's also quite a lot of porn crammed into one story, so, with any luck, it should all balance out. Thanks go to simmysim, a more willing and attentive beta than I deserve. :)
Amazingly, miraculously, against greater odds than the state lottery, the whole day, from ceremony to party, went off without a hitch. Steve felt like writing thank-you notes to every meddlesome criminal who had refrained from foiling their plans. They'd done everything in their power to prevent rude interruptions by petty crooks, villains, or aliens – and any other sorry creature who might take pleasure in ruining a hero's wedding – but, best laid plans and all that. Steve hadn't really expected it to go so smoothly.
It was a small ceremony – miniscule, like microscopic, as Tony had put it while they were ironing out the details – just what they each consider family. On Steve's suggestion, they had written their own vows, and despite the snickers from Hank upon hearing this news beforehand, it hadn't been Jan sniffling when Steve had finally torn his eyes from Tony's face. The hall had been a small one, but beautiful and elegant nonetheless. Tony had insisted that it was the only small banquet hall he could find with seating large enough to comfortably accommodate Thor for the entire song and dance, and while Steve conceded that most of the venues they considered had been equipped with nothing but flimsy-looking folding chairs, he was pretty sure Tony just couldn't resist the one big extravagance.
It was a perfect day, but all the minor details pale in comparison – and Steve feels like a young, goofy newlywed at the thought, but he can't help it, and has apparently lost control of his emotions – to the look on Tony's face when Steve had actually said "I do." Ecstatic hope, bright like he's never before seen it in Tony's features, and Steve's hands had shaken with the effort to keep them still and refrain from pulling Tony to him and kissing him in a way that should never be done in civilized company.
Their suite at the Waldorf-Astoria seems unnecessarily large to Steve, considering he can't imagine what use they're going to have for anything but a bed tonight, but Tony likes it, and, as he had pointed out when he made the reservation, the bed is set against an outside wall, which avoids awkward phone calls from the front desk concerning complaints about the suspicious noise levels in the wee hours of the morning. That had been the reason, outside of tradition, that they hadn't simply spent the night at home. It's just not courteous to subject friends and family to that kind of experience.
Tony's uncharacteristically coy when they reach the room, leaving a chaste kiss on Steve's cheek before heading to small fridge in the corner for a bottle of water. Steve walks immediately to the large window opposite the door and draws the curtains; the view is breathtaking from here, but the last thing Steve wants to think about now is what might be happening on the streets of New York City. He had made sure they were as free from obligation as possible, but there was always that small chance...
"If anything happens tonight..." Steve had whispered to Jan during dinner.
She'd smiled, laying a hand on his arm. "Short of an alien invasion, we won't call you."
Steve doesn't want to think about what he might to do the sorry alien who interrupts his wedding night.
He turns from the window to see Tony leaning back against the counter of the bar, smiling faintly and toying with the gold band on his finger. Steve crosses the room, and Tony actually starts a little when Steve lifts his chin, pressing their lips together gently. "You alright?" he asks, one arm sliding around Tony's waist, pulling him close.
Tony nods, licking his lips. "Perfect..." A hand comes up to rest on Steve's chest, over the gleaming medals dangling from his breast pocket – his old, ceremonial uniform – and Tony stares intently at his fingers, blinking. "I think I'm afraid if I..." he smiles and shakes his head, obviously looking to drop the subject.
Steve isn't won over. "What?" he insists, drawing back and making Tony meet his eyes.
He frowns, blinks again. "If I try to make it real in my head, it'll turn out to be a dream, or a hallucination, or worse." Then the knot between his brows is gone, and his arms snake around Steve's neck, fingers tickling inadvertently. "It's stupid. I know it's real."
Steve studies him for a moment, then pulls Tony's left hand down from his neck, bringing it to his mouth and kissing the palm, his thumb and forefinger rubbing the ring lightly.
"I love this ring on your finger." he murmurs, kissing each fingertip in turn before looking at Tony again, finding him holding his breath. "I love you." he intertwines their fingers, leaning in to Tony's ear. "Tonight is going to be a lot less fun if you plan to asphyxiate yourself."
The breath is released in a huff of laughter, Tony's hand tightening around his. "I'll try my best." he presses a kiss to Steve's jaw, then another, working down until his lips are on Steve's chin, and he pulls back a bit, mouth slightly open. Steve stares, just for a beat, thrown a little by Tony's passiveness; just standing and waiting patiently for a kiss, but it does seem to fit, especially tonight.
Tony feels wonderfully compliant when Steve catches his lips, molding to Steve's body when the hand on the small of his back presses him close. He's shaking just slightly, but then, Steve is pretty sure they both are. Releasing Tony's hand, He gets a firm grip on the man's narrow waist and lifts him, setting him on the countertop. The bar is high enough that Tony has to lean down to kiss him, but it gives Steve perfect access to his neck, which is almost as good. Tony's pulse is racing when Steve's thumb brushes over it, replaced by lips a second later. He pushes Tony's crisp white jacket – the color was Tony's idea, and another source of amusement for Hank and anyone else who happened to consider the implications of a man like Tony wearing white – off his shoulders, yanks off the tie, and gets to work on the shirt buttons; no small feat with Tony pressing them so close together Steve can barely get his hands between them.
Tony's chest is beautiful, defined without being bulky, and Steve ducks his head to scrape his teeth lightly over a nipple, soothing with his tongue, relishing in the hitch of breath. Tony's hands make frantic work of Steve's jacket, the medals hitting the floor with a dull thud. Ordinarily, Steve wouldn't leave his old uniform crumpled in a heap like that, but then Tony starts pulling open the buttons on his shirt, and suddenly there are more important things in the world than a coat. Nimble, long fingers play over his chest and stomach and Steve decides the bar isn't going to give them nearly enough space, tries to pull away to lead Tony to the bedroom, and finds resistance in the form of Tony's tightly locked legs around his waist.
"Tony-" But Tony is at his neck now, kissing and nipping urgently, and Steve is finding it difficult to convey his intent. "We should- Ahh-" he breaks off as Tony runs the tip of his tongue along the outer shell of his ear, hands flexing on Tony's hips as a shiver travels down his spine. "... The bedroom would be more convenient."
Tony murmurs a vague affirmative, but shows no signs of shifting the hold on Steve's waist. The bedroom is only a few feet away from here.
Tony yelps as he's lifted from the bar, his grip tightening. Steve stands still until he's got a satisfactory hold on the man's thighs, then starts making his way to the – thankfully open – bedroom door. There's a snort against his shoulder when Tony catches onto exactly what's happening.
"What, you're gonna carry me over the threshold?" Teeth are bared against his neck again, as if to punctuate the words, and Steve almost falters.
"Not if you keep doing that, I'm not." he crosses through the doorway and pauses. "Stop it, or you're going to fall." he warns, hoisting Tony up again to readjust his grip.
Tony obeys long enough for Steve to finish the journey to the bed, dropping him down in the middle of the gigantic mattress. Tony grins, squirming up until his head rests on the pillows, quickly shucking his pants. Steve stands at the foot of the bed, watching, and lets out a chuckle before he can stop himself.
"You would go commando on your wedding day." he teases, pushing his own pants – and boxers – to the floor.
"As if there's a better reason." he smirks, biting his lip and looking for all the world like a cocky seventeen year old, despite the full goatee and mustache.
Steve starts to move to join him on the bed, but pauses before he makes it, taking in the view. Seeing Tony laid out like this does something to him, something more than the obvious. It stirs some possessive – protective – thing inside him, makes him itch with simultaneous urges to destroy every person who's ever looked at Tony Stark with anything short of respect, and to treat him like a fragile, delicate toy, one Steve has all to himself. He tries to ignore it – it's hard to think of 'delicate' as a good descriptor for Tony – but there's always something there, in his chest, almost dark... He blinks, shaking his head and crawling up the bed to cover Tony completely.
"I've got you all night..." he muses, threading his hand through Tony's hair, watching the way the light plays against the shiny black, and the glinting gold on Steve's finger underneath it.
Tony raises his head, kissing him softly and nodding. "Always." he falls back to the pillows, smiling, less of a smirk this time, but that playful glint in his eye never leaves, that glint the Steve is pretty sure made him fall in love with Tony in the first place.
He trails his hand lightly down Tony's side, watching him shiver under the touch, arching, rubbing his hardening cock against Steve's hip. Pressing kisses down his throat, he slides his hand back up, Tony dropping back to the mattress reluctantly. Steve catches his nipple between his fingers as Tony groans, "Ahh, please don't tease."
Normally, Steve would make a joke about patience being a virtue, but that's just cruel tonight, so he slides off of Tony, props his head on his hand, stretching out on his side next to the fidgeting man and gripping Tony's cock without preamble.
"Oh, oh," he gasps, hips twitching up immediately, encouraging movement. Steve obliges happily, starting a slow, deliberate rhythm, staring at Tony's face as he gradually unravels, panting turning into moans, a flush blooming across his high cheekbones.
Precome starts to make things slicker, and Tony's arching speeds up the pace a little, and soon he's visibly holding back, restraint obvious in the cords of his neck, the tense muscles of his arms. It seems fast for him to lose it like this, and Steve is about to ask what's gotten into him when Tony reaches up, gripping Steve's hair, gasping his name and pulling him down for a fierce kiss.
"Steve," he pants against Steve's lips, entire body shuddering, "Your- fuck, I can feel your ring..."
"Too much?" Steve loosens his grip a little, but knows better than to stop right now.
"No, God, no, it's amazing," he thrusts up again, shaking his head, "Not too much." Nonetheless, he reaches down, grasping Steve's wrist, stilling him. Before Steve can ask, Tony swallows heavily and explains, "But, yes, I'm going to come, and you need to fuck me immediately."
Grinning, Steve releases his cock, leaning down to kiss him again but finding Tony sliding out from under him.
"Provisions!" he announces as he pads out into the sitting room. There's the sound of a zipper, and Tony soon reappears, bottle of lube dangling from between two fingers. "I thought about getting the flavored stuff," he says thoughtfully, holding it at eye level and inspecting the label, "But I think I prefer you au natural, if you know what I mean." He smirks at Steve's snort of laughter, expression turning predatory as he gets closer, chewing on his lip again. "You should sit up for this."
Catching onto the 'this', Steve pulls himself up and slides back to headboard, laughing again as Tony gets onto the enormous bed at the far end and crawls up to him slowly, one eyebrow raised, smirk in place. His eyelids fall to half-mast and he sighs contently as he settles in Steve's lap, pressing the lube into Steve's hand pointedly. Steve quickly pours some onto his fingers behind Tony's back.
"Up." Steve commands, and Tony nods, spreading his thighs wider for access, and lifting.
His breath catches at the feel of Steve's fingers playing at his opening, hands gripping tight on Steve's shoulders.
"Steve..." he breathes, hips wriggling, thrusting back. "Not fair." Steve would call his expression a pout, but Tony would never admit to pouting. "No teasing."
Steve looks up, watches Tony's face as one finger circles lightly without pushing in; watches him shiver, eyes clenching shut, a soft keening whine slipping brokenly from his lips. He really is worked up, and Steve doesn't have it in him to make him wait right now.
His moan is low and thankful when Steve's finger finally presses inside, moving slowly but not teasing; methodical, deliberate, drawing it out, because there's plenty of time. Rushing is for things that don't last. Tony's more responsive than Steve can ever remember him being, unrestrained whimpers and babbled words of encouragement accompanying every twist and crook of the finger. The second working its way inside is enough for a sob, and Tony's hips still their constant, rocking motion. Steve can feel him trembling, holding back from orgasm once again.
Kissing his neck gently, Steve runs his unoccupied hand slowly up and down Tony's back. "You can come if you want to, I'm right here. It's OK." It really is; in fact, Steve's made it his mission to make Tony come as many times as possible before the night is out. He pulls back, angling Tony's chin down, brushing his thumb over moist lips. "You're shaking."
If Steve didn't know better, he'd swear that the flush on Tony's cheeks deepens as he shakes his head, corners of his mouth twitching up a little sheepishly. "I want..." and suddenly he's diving down, pressing his face to Steve's neck.
"What is it?" Steve returns his hand to its soothing motions on his back, keeping his fingers still in Tony's ass.
"I want my first orgasm as a married man-" he breaks off with what Steve guesses is meant to be a distracting bite on his neck, then continues after a beat, words muffled, "-to be with you inside me."
Steve's chest feels suddenly very tight, and he grabs Tony's hair, bringing the flushed man up from his shoulder and kissing him fiercely, groaning into his mouth. Tony looks dazed when Steve pulls him away, licking slightly swollen lips, eyes half lidded.
"I love you," he says, leaning his forehead against Steve's. "Just go slow. I don't know how much I can take."
Steve carefully complies, withdrawing the fingers and adding a third, trying his best to stretch efficiently without stimulating too much, which isn't easy with Tony as open and receptive as he is tonight. His back is knotted with tension, muscles winding tighter with every twitch of Steve's hand. He pants into Steve's mouth, tongue darting out to lick dry lips.
"Screw it, just-" he rasps, shaking his head, "Fuck me, do it, I'm ready."
Steve gives a low growl, easing his fingers gradually out of Tony's body, hearing him whimper at the loss and comforting with a gentle kiss. He picks up the lube again, spreading a generous amount on his cock, convinced that Tony is slightly exaggerating the definition of 'ready', as always. He's careful not to push in right away, pressing the head against Tony's entrance, leaving it to the other man to make the call.
Which is apparently a mistake, he notes, as Tony forces his hips down, practically impaling himself, groaning. Steve grabs him before he can sink any further, stilling him completely, getting a whine in response.
"Take it easy," he locks eyes with the trembling man teetering on the edge above him, "You'll hurt yourself."
He shakes his head frantically, "Oh God, Steve, I'm really-" his throat bobs and he wriggles in Steve's grasp, "-really, really close."
"I know," Steve soothes, loosening his grip on Tony's hips a little. "Move with me."
He rolls his hips up a fraction, pulling Tony down at the same time. Tony catches on fast, eyes clenched shut and tongue caught between his teeth as he concentrates, rocking his hips with Steve's motions, gaining inch by inch until he's flush in his lap, moaning openly.
Steve applies pressure on the small of his back, encouraging him to keep moving, rocking, to find the right angle and bring himself off before he shatters with tension.
"Fuck, fuck, Steve, fuck," he gasps, burying his face in Steve's neck, sobbing, rolling his hips frantically.
"Come on, babe," Steve whispers, wrapping his hand around Tony's cock, carefully rubbing his wedding band over the head, "Come for me."
Tony shudders violently, crying out against Steve's shoulder. He freezes for just a second, then collapses, coming over Steve's hand, on his stomach and chest, twitching, clenching blindingly on Steve's cock.
He hears a deep groan, realizing after a beat or two that it's his own, finding himself straining to hold back from thrusting up into the limp body in his lap. He releases Tony's cock before his fist has time to clench, and his wrist is grasped tightly. Tony lifts his head, eyes half lidded but looking determined, bringing Steve's hand to his mouth, licking at the tip of one come-coated finger before sucking it between his lips, cleaning it lasciviously.
"Tony..." Steve rasps, fighting his body's demands for movement.
There's an answering moan in Tony, and the man rolls his hips, squeezing Steve's cock inside him, sucking in a second finger, shuddering again.
He wants to say that Tony can wait, breathe for a minute, gather his wits, but he can't seem to form the words as Tony lifts then drops back down, making a humming noise around Steve's fingers that he's sure he can feel in his cock. So instead of "Tony, slow down," he ends up groaning, "Jesus, Tony, you're amazing," and has never meant it more than right now.
Tony finishes with the first two fingers, starting on the third, taking extra care to give Steve's ring a thorough cleaning with his lips and tongue before sweeping the finger into his mouth, picking up the pace of his movements, riding Steve in earnest. He tightens again, his entire body twitching. God, he's got to be oversensitive.
With effort, Steve manages to get out, "We can wait… for you to recover, if you want."
Tony comes up for air, grasp firm on Steve's wrist as he leans down to his ear, voice rough, "I love that… That taste," he breaks off to gasp, hips apparently finding a convenient angle and rocking for a moment, "My come on your skin, it's perfect."
Steve can't possibly think of what he could say to match that, so he settles on a deep groan, sliding one hand around to Tony's ass, tracing one finger around his opening, stretched tight around Steve's cock. Tony cries out at that, clenching, leaning back and getting to work on Steve's pinky, sucking it clean. He's stirring again already, against Steve's stomach.
Tony meets his eyes as he takes a long lick up Steve's palm, swallowing the last of the come there, then whimpering, letting Steve's hand drop and rocking back wantonly.
Steve's orgasm blindsides him, his vision going black, gripping Tony's hips roughly, holding him down. He can hear his own groans, barely louder than Tony's as he explodes inside him. They rock together for a long moment, with Tony quivering, pressed tight to his chest, and Steve panting through the haze, searching for higher thought. He eventually arrives at, "Incredible," which may be more along the lines of mid-tier thought, really.
Tony whimpers an agreement, lifting and letting Steve's cock slip from him with a slight wince. Immediately, he starts working his way down Steve's still-heaving chest, kissing and nipping at the skin. He tugs insistently at Steve's shoulders and Steve gets the message, sliding down onto his back as Tony gets comfortable, spread out on top of him. He laps at a drop of his come on Steve's hip, grinning wickedly. "I didn't finish cleaning up." And with that, he launches into the task, taking long, slow licks up Steve's abs, pausing each time to swallow, eyes closed, expression blissful. Steve knows full well that Tony takes this as a self-indulgence, but there's no way he doesn't catch on to the meaning of the encouraging hands in his hair, of Steve's breath, which has barely slowed since his orgasm.
Steve has never had a problem with cumbersome refractory periods, but even he's surprised when he starts hardening again so soon. Tony shifts when he feels it, moaning with his lip caught between his teeth, wrapping his hand around Steve's cock, stroking firmly.
Steve gasps, tensing at the touch, eyes clenching shut. He almost misses the sigh, the joking purr, "My own perfect super-soldier..."
He forces himself to relax, looking down at Tony and grinning. "It's only perfect if there's perfect timing. You ready?"
Tony nods, pressing his hard cock into Steve's thigh. "Ready."
Steve weighs the options for a moment, feeling almost giddy with the possibilities, with the knowledge that anything they do tonight would be good, would be amazing. "On your stomach," he decides, and Tony obeys without pause, settling on his front. Steve grabs two pillows, nudging Tony's hip for him to raise up, pushing the pillows underneath him.
Tony sighs as he wriggles against smooth cotton and soft down, spreading his thighs.
"OK?" Steve asks, stroking the curve of Tony's ass lightly.
"I'm good," he smiles, spreading a little further as Steve settles between his legs, pressing the head of his cock against Tony's opening, already slick with lube and Steve's come.
"Deep breath," he says quietly, rubbing slow circles between Tony's shoulder blades. Tony inhales slowly, and Steve pushes inside.
A tremulous keening noise is directed into the bedspread as Tony's back tenses. Steve continues the circles, kneading tight muscles with the hand not bracing his weight against the bed, coaxing the trembling man into relaxing. "Let me know when you're ready," Steve says softly, into Tony's shoulder.
Tony nods, a white-knuckled grip on the comforter, hips twitching backwards and forwards as he adjusts. If it were up to Steve, he'd never do this without stretching him again first. But this part is for Tony, who's always insisted that this little bit of pain and too much stimulation is "one of the top five perks of sleeping with someone with unnaturally enhanced stamina." Steve is a little afraid to ask about the other four.
Slowly, the tension fades, and he loosens enough for Steve to move without fear of hurting him, nodding against the mattress, breathing out, "Ready, I'm ready." As he starts to shift, more rocking into Tony than thrusting, Steve has to admit that this is a pretty good perk. There are few things he can call to mind that are more appealing than the way Tony shudders and twitches underneath him while he does his best to take Steve's cock for the second time in one night, or the way his noises get more constant, but softer, a little more helpless and a lot more desperate.
He tries to push back to meet Steve's movements, but the position doesn't afford him much leverage, and he whines quietly at the agonizingly slow pace Steve has set.
"Steve..." He pleads brokenly, arching back against Steve's chest.
Shifting his weight, Steve aims for a different angle, at the same time reaching for Tony's hands, acutely aware of the small metallic tink of their rings as he intertwines their fingers. "I've got you all night, remember?" he whispers into sweat dampened hair. "I want to keep you like this as long as I can, I want to fuck you--" he snaps his hips a little harder, pulling a moan from parted lips, "-- as long as you can take it. Can you do that for me?"
Tony can get past it, that desperation for rough and fast, he just needs a little incentive. He nods, concentration knitting his brows as he slowly unwinds beneath Steve, choked little cries still escaping him as Steve presses in, deliberate and strong, but eventually he nods, eventually he squeezes Steve's fingers and lets his hips rest on the pillows propping him up.
Steve is content to drag it out from there, his thrusts deep and languid, building a nearly unbearable pressure in the both of them for as long as he can take it. He waits until he can feel his own muscles winding tight, until Tony's whines start to turn to sobs, before he stops, forehead resting heavily against the nape of Tony's neck, cock buried deep inside his clenching, unbearable heat.
He can feel Tony squirming minutely beneath him, but Steve's pinning him down from head to toe, and he foregoes the litany of curses and pleading Steve is sure is on the tip of his tongue, instead whimpering Steve's name, clenching around him in what Steve takes as an attempt at motivation.
His own breathing has slowed almost to normal, and Tony's has risen to tight, quick panting, when Steve starts to move again, drawing out gently, slowly, groaning as he pushes back in.
Tony's patience doesn't last long after that. "More, please, harder," he begs shamelessly, arching his back as much as he can under Steve's weight, grinding into the pillows below, so desperate for contact, so easy to wind up. "You're so deep, please, I need it harder, I need it."
And in addition to the standard rush of arousal he experiences when Tony spills strings of filth and pleading at him, Steve's throat gets inexplicably tight. Instead of the normal routine of grinning, giving nothing but light touches and teasing words in response, he presses a long, hard kiss to the nape of Tony's neck, starts to thrust in a little harder. When he speaks, his voice is rougher than he expected, almost unsteady, "Love you," he can't say it enough, he'll never say it enough. He tightens his grip on Tony's hands, moving up and shifting his weight to give Tony a better angle, to make sure to rub across his prostate with every movement. Tony's barely on this planet right now, but there are words on the tip of his tongue, and they feel important, "I'd make it so you'd... Never want for anything. I'd do it if I could. I'd give you everything, I will."
Gasping, Tony tenses, squeezing Steve's fingers hard. "Keep... Keep talking, please."
"I'll always be here," Steve breathes immediately, never at a loss for words, "No matter--" his voice breaks as Tony clenches, and he tries again, "No matter what. I'll always be with you," and a mere 'for better or for worse' feels like a weak statement to his own ears, when what he wants to say is, 'Nothing is going to hurt you again, I'll keep you safe forever,' but Steve isn't going to pledge something he'd have to lock Tony up to achieve.
And Tony seems fairly pleased with the promise he got, anyway, evidenced by the rigid shoulders, the outright wail that's half muffled by the mattress, the jerks and quivers of his hips as he comes against the pillow. Steve saves him the dilemma of choosing between grinding down and shoving back by slamming inside, filling him completely as Tony's orgasm courses through them both. He waits it out patiently, always grateful for the opportunity to witness Tony losing himself. The urge to start talking again is almost unbearable as he watches the man shudder beneath him, to tell him how amazing he looks, how hot and perfect, but Tony's floating too far from the ground to know what to do with those words right now.
His eyes are still dazed and unfocused when Steve feels him start to rock again, muscles trembling with the effort, entire body twitching with overstimulation. He'll push himself to sheer exhaustion just to keep up, Steve knows that from experience.
Easily stilling the minutely rocking hips, he presses his lips to the man's glistening shoulder as he pulls out gently. There's a sob of protest from Tony, Steve shifting to the side, stretching out on his stomach, lower body deliberately resting on the mattress in an attempt to avoid the tease he knows will come from his cock, still hard, pressing into Tony's hip.
Tony blinks in confusion, looking owlish from this distance, their faces only inches apart. "What's wrong?" he actually sounds worried, "You didn't come."
"Give yourself a minute," Steve whispers, petting his hair lightly, "Pace yourself."
"But... you'll let me finish you off then?"
Say what you will about Tony's reputation, but let no one call him a selfish lover. "Anything you want," Steve promises softly.
Tony doesn't look entirely sure of the arrangement, but his body is still jolting with aftershocks, and Steve doubts he can move enough to turn his apprehension into action.
He closes his eyes, resting his head on Tony's arm, his thumb over the still-racing pulse in the man's neck, and waits for his breathing to even out, for the tremors to stop coursing through his muscles. They've both just started to shiver with the chill of cooling sweat when Tony murmurs, "Hey," and Steve opens his eyes again, this time meeting a steadier, more lucid gaze. "Shower?"
Steve nods, standing, holding out a hand for Tony to do the same. "Sounds good."
The shower cubicle is even bigger than the one in Tony's bathroom at home. Steve can't imagine why one would need to fit half a dozen people into one shower, but he suspects Tony could explain it to him in unnecessary detail.
Tony steps under the spray first, sighing, soaking his hair before pulling Steve to him. The water is hot enough to nearly sting; Tony's skin is always pink after a shower.
They kiss, long and deep, Tony pressing himself flush to Steve's body, the contact coaxing Steve to full hardness again. Tony pulls away to reach for a bar of soap, wetting it in his hands then gliding it across Steve's chest.
Doing his best to keep still, Steve lets the man hastily skim his torso with lather, working closer and closer to his obvious goal. He doesn't hold back the groan when a soap-slicked hand wraps around his cock, but he keeps his eyes open, to watch Tony chew on his lip, grinning a little, staring back intently. His strokes are methodical, never teasing, making Steve tense his thighs in an effort to keep steady on his feet.
The bar of soap makes a thunk on the tiled floor as it slips from Tony's hand and he spins them around, nudging him under the near-scalding spray, allowing the water about three seconds to take the soap from Steve's skin before dropping to his knees.
Steve just has the sense to reach up and angle the shower head away from them before Tony's lips wrap tightly around the head of his cock, tongue flicking wickedly at it. His moan is partially drowned out by the water, but it gets an answering one in Tony as he takes Steve further in, as far as he can, which is always truly impressive.
He pulls out all the stops as usual, swallowing around him, humming contentedly when Steve's hands thread through the wet strands of his hair, compensating for what he can't handle with a firm hand around the base. Tony's mouth is incredible, heat and wetness like nothing else, making Steve's abdomen tense uncontrollably, his breath stutter and come out in low groans. Undeniable pressure starts building surprisingly fast, and if this wasn't already round two and a half, Steve would have pulled him off in favour of finishing too quickly.
His tension must be obvious, either in the tightened grip of his hands or the slight rolling of his hips, and Tony gives a whine, pulling away to lick his lips, then the tip of Steve's cock, before diving back down, picking up a pace that makes Steve's vision blur before he shuts his eyes, tipping his head back and moaning encouragement, though he doubts there are any actual words escaping him.
He comes with a shout, what little concentration he still has focused into not acting on the impulse to hold Tony down on his cock. Tony does it for him anyway, whimpering as Steve floods his mouth, refusing to move an inch until he's gotten every last drop, like it's a prize he earned.
He swallows noisily when he pulls back, moaning deep in his throat. Steve waits a moment for his strength to return before tugging Tony to his feet, kissing him thoroughly, a faint taste of himself in Tony's mouth.
The kiss deepens as he backs Tony into a tiled wall, tongue invading, feeling the grip on his shoulders tighten. Tony responds passively, lips working softly, compliantly against Steve's. He feels the breath from Tony's moan before he registers his own.
He retrieves the discarded bar of soap from the floor, working it into a lather in his hands and replacing it in its tray on the wall. He presses a kiss to Tony's clavicle, tasting the last remnants of sweat. "This is mine." he strokes his fingers across the bone, leaving tiny trails of bubbles behind. He can barely hear Tony's whimper over the water.
Another kiss to his shoulder, "And this," hands following just after, spreading the lather down tight, lightly defined arms. Lips around a nipple now, and a little bit of teeth, neck bent and head cocked to suck lightly, feeling a moan vibrating through Tony's chest. "And this," soapy fingers trail down his chest, to his abdomen, and Steve raises his head, his grin uncontainable. "I love being able to say that now, and it's really true."
Tony squirms as Steve's hands rub up and down his ribs, twitching a little at the unintentional tickling. "It was always true," he breathes, "You know that."
"Yeah, but now it's tangible..." he pulls Tony's hand up, pulling his ring finger into his mouth, just grazing the gold band with his lips before pulling back, grinning again, "Because this is mine too."
Tony leans forward for a kiss, lifting his hips away from the wall and letting Steve trail his hands down his back, over his ass, fingers dipping into the cleft just enough for a hitch of breath, but sliding away just as fast. Tony does have limits, even if Steve is the one who has to enforce them.
He grabs the bar of soap again and works up more lather on his hands before lowering himself to his knees, starting at Tony's feet and working his way up, careful to graze lightly past parts he knows to be ticklish. Tony's hands find Steve's shoulders as he strokes gently at soft inner thighs, watching Tony grow harder, his legs beginning to shake.
Standing, Steve reaches up, swiveling the shower head toward them and moving out of the way to let the stream hit Tony. His hands keep up their stroking, across Tony's stomach, down to his hips, back up to his chest, as the water rinses the soap away. Tony's breathing hard by the time Steve steps in front of him again, blocking the spray. Hips twitch hopefully forward, and Steve grazes his fingers down Tony's cock. "Once more?"
Tony bites his lip, nodding, "Quick one?"
Immediately, Steve grips Tony's cock, wedging his thigh between Tony's, something to grind on. He strokes hard and firm, watching the flush on Tony's cheekbones deepen, leaning close to hear the tight, breathy whine.
"Fast, faster," he chokes, and Steve complies, drinking in the sight of Tony's hair sticking to his forehead, his eyes fluttering and his lips parted on a moan. Steve kisses him fiercely, with all the force he has left, and Tony's hips jerk, and his fingers scratch at Steve's neck, and he comes, wailing like it hurts – and, all things considered, it's possible that it does.
They stand, Tony only saved from sliding to the floor by Steve's sheer mass pinning him upright, until Tony can hold himself up again. Steve dries Tony first, then himself, and leads him back to bed, resisting the impulse to carry him again.
Tony should be exhausted, and Steve shouldn't be far off, but the day's excitement still courses through him, and he's glad when Tony kisses him again, instead of simply surrendering to sleep, because he's not sure if he would have been OK with the night ending yet.
He refuses to check the clock on the nightstand as they lie there, kissing and petting and rolling in the already tangled sheets. It's not until he comes back from the sitting room with bottles of water that he thinks to twitch the floor-length curtain aside, and finds the sky in its purplish transition state between inky blue and the orange of sunrise.
"I think it's time to get some sleep." he says, crawling back onto the bed, kicking aside the mess of sheets and pulling just the duvet over himself, pulling Tony down with him.
"I guess we could take a few hours' break." Tony agrees tiredly.
It's only a minute or two before Steve feels himself drifting off, but he forces his eyes open when the bed shifts, watches Tony sit up and resume his contemplation of the gold band on his finger. "It'll be there tomorrow, you know." Steve smiles, reaching out and brushing the tips of his fingers down Tony's hip.
Tony grins over his shoulder. "I know," he replies, then turns back to the ring. "I don't want to take it off. I keep wondering if I'll be able to wear it under the gauntlets, or if I'll damage it somehow if I keep it on in the lab."
Steve pulls himself up, slipping an arm around Tony's waist, kissing his shoulder. "Even if you take it off, it'll still be right where you left it tomorrow." Tony twists suddenly, his expression strange, and cups the back of Steve's head, kissing him fiercely, desperately, and yeah, alright, Steve thinks he gets it. Pulling back, he waits for Tony to open his eyes before speaking. "Even if the ring is gone, I'll still be here tomorrow."
Tony smiles, ducking his head, nodding. "I know..." he shifts, turning, pushing Steve down onto his back again, resting his chin on Steve's chest. "I know." he nudges his nose against Steve's chin. "Me too."
Steve wraps his arms around the other man, nodding, "Yeah. I know."
There's a long pause, then, "I feel bad for the rest of humanity now."
"Why's that?" Steve murmurs, feeling sleep closing in around him again.
"Well, your cock is a national treasure." Reluctantly, Steve pries open his eyes, gazing down at Tony apprehensively. "And now I get it all to myself, forever. It's like selling the original draft of the constitution into private hands."
Steve sighs, looking pointedly at the ceiling. "I'm going to pretend this conversation ended about a minute ago and try to forget that comparison."
"I'm sorry. It's hardly fair to compare your cock to a raggedly old piece of parchment. The winner is kind of obvious."
"I'm asleep now."