“Cap, watch out!”
A loud crackling noise, followed by a painful hit to the back, and Steve finds himself flying through the air. It takes him a moment, a moment of pure of panic, before he realizes the hard pressure against his waist is Tony’s suit-clad arms, airlifting him to safety. He grins as Tony lands them half a city block away and turns once his feet are on solid ground, knocking his knuckles against the helmet.
“Thanks for the save, Shellhead,” he says.
Sparks crackle along the suit’s shoulder, coupled with more than a few deep gouges that give Steve pause. It’s rare that the suit takes so much damage and Steve feels a moment of deep discomfort, knowing just how human the man inside is. Tony stands still, completely unmoving, but just as Steve is about to ask if everything’s alright, Tony’s hands come up and lift off the helmet, his eyebrows furrowing as he turns it over in his hands.
“Well, that’s not good,” he says. The helmet is dented in the back, a strange, almost delicate pattern of scorch marks radiating from where the metal dips. “Suit’s working fine but the display is down.” He opens the faceplate manually and pokes around as the ground quakes with an explosion.
Tony lifts an eyebrow and looks up at Steve. “Cover me while I get this sorted out? It’ll only take a minute.”
Movement behind Tony sets Steve into motion before he can properly respond. Instinctively Steve reels his shield back and lets it fly, swiftly downing an encroaching alien, before it returns to him. The whole thing happens within seconds, Tony seems to have barely had enough time to realize something had happened.
“Like you even need to ask,” Steve says in return, and Tony smiles at him, picking out a tool kit from a panel on his thigh, and setting to work.
Steve turns around, scanning the area as he fills the team in on the situation. “Avengers, Iron Man is down. Keep to the plan, but try not to jump off any tall buildings until he’s back in the air. Thor, you’re our eyes in the sky, stay near the portal but let us know if you spot anything unusual.”
“Aye, Captain,” Thor responds.
“Stark okay?” Clint asks, a little breathless.
“He’s fine, just doing a bit of repair work,” Steve replies, sending his shield sailing at an oncoming creature nearly a block away.
He hears Clint huff in his ear piece. “Tell him he needs to find a better mechanic if that little hit managed to take him out.”
Steve laughs and turns around; Tony glances up at him curiously. Steve realizes belatedly that with the helmet off, he can’t hear what’s going on. “Clint is making disparaging remarks about your mechanical abilities.”
Tony laughs. “Well, tell bird-brain that--” His eyes go wide at something over Steve’s shoulder. Before he can fully turn around, Steve’s knocked aside, sent head first into the side of a building. His helmet absorbs the worst of the impact but he’s still feeling dizzy as he lies in a crumpled heap on the ground. Steve is momentarily stunned, trying to remember what it is he’s supposed to be doing, before he hears someone yelling his name.
Tony. Steve’s supposed to be covering him, and now whatever had knocked Steve into the wall would be going after him. With a missing helmet and gauntlet.
Steve struggles to stand, groaning as his head swims and he stumbles. He squints, trying to locate Tony; there’s noise in his ear, people trying to talk to him, but he can’t make sense of the garbled speech. Steve's heart nearly stops when he sees one of the aliens with an arm around Tony’s neck; Tony scrabbles to get himself free, frantically trying to get a grip on the claw around his throat. The creature lifts its other hand and something in its palm flares to life. Tony twists and turns in its grip but can’t seem to escape.
The object in the creature’s hand lets out a rapid series of beeps and grows brighter. Steve tries to move forward, but he’s not moving nearly as quickly as he needs to and he’s still at least twenty feet away when Tony’s eyes catch his. Steve sees a gamut of emotions flicker across his face, but they settle on something Steve can’t name as Tony’s lips turn up in a small, soft smile, even as he’s doing his level best to get free of the creature’s grip.
Steve’s heart finally does stop in his chest when he realizes what that smile means, and he tries to put on speed, but it’s too late: there’s a final series of beeps, a blinding flash, a wash of intense heat, and Steve is thrown back again. He feels like he’s stuck in a dream, trying to run through molasses, only to be pushed further away. Only it’s not a dream, oh God, it’s not a dream - and Steve just saw his teammate and best friend get blown up in front of him because he was too slow.
He struggles back up to his feet for a second time, and stares in horror at the empty space where Tony once stood. Oh God. Oh God, he’s gone.
“Who’s gone? Rogers--Steve! What’s going on?” Natasha’s voice is commanding and breaks him out of his haze, if only just.
“Tony,” he chokes out. “He’s gone.”
As he approaches the site, he sees the dark fluid all over the grass and his stomach turns over when he realizes what it must be. Tony’s helmet lies a few feet away, the faceplate still flipped open, and dark inside.
“What do you mean 'gone,' Steve?”
“He’s… one of those things got a hold of him, and had some sort of bomb. It went off while they were struggling. He’s gone.”
There’s a muttered curse over the comms, Steve’s not sure who it comes from. There’s another explosion further away followed by a shrill scream and Steve’s head snaps up. It hurts, God, does it hurt, but Steve knows if he doesn’t move, more people are going to die. He takes one last look at the last place he’ll ever have seen Tony, his heart raw, and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. What would Tony say if he saw Steve standing here mourning him while there’s a world needing to be saved?
It’s that thought that spurs Steve on more than anything else, eyes snapping open as he turns away and runs over to where his shield had fallen on the ground.
He glances once more over his shoulder before taking off towards the scream, relaying orders to a team who’s gone uncharacteristically quiet.
There’s plenty of time for grief later, he knows.
The first time Tony saves Steve isn’t on the battlefield.
They’re still new at this whole thing, there are still edges to be smoothed over and personality clashes that result in structural damage, but they’re giving the team thing, The Avengers, an honest go of it. They move into the tower one by one over the course of a few weeks as each of them ties up their loose ends. There are shared meals, usually held under the guise of a team meeting, but they’re quiet occasions. Most of Steve’s attempts to make conversation and connect with anyone besides Natasha fizzle out. It’s rough and awkward and Steve’s beginning to think maybe it had been a bad idea after all.
But then there’s a press conference. The first one held as a team. It goes about as well as could be expected, Steve thinks. Natasha is straight and to the point, but still a little nervous being in the public eye. Bruce is quiet and only speaks when asked a direct question. Clint cracks a few jokes that fall flat but he seems to enjoy himself anyway, and Tony is… well, he’s Tony. Steve’s seen plenty of YouTube videos to know what to expect when you put Tony Stark in front of a camera.
Steve’s thinks he’s doing alright, himself. He still remembers how to work a crowd, even if it’s not the same set-up, the concept and principles are similar. He smiles and answers what he can with as much honesty as he can, sneaking in a couple of lame jokes and maybe laying on the whole Aw, Shucks attitude a little thick. He’s no Tony Stark, but even Steve knows he’s got them eating out of the palm of his hand.
They’re doing well, people seem to be interested, if not excited, about the concept of a team of superheroes looking after them. Most of the questions are at least vaguely positive until a blonde woman in the second row, clearly angling for something, asks him, “Captain Rogers, you’re a hero from a war that ended decades ago. A relic from the past, some would say. Why should the American people, why should the world, trust you to lead this team in a time so different from your own?”
Steve feels his smile falter. It’s not that the question is unprecedented, or that he hasn’t asked himself that very same thing before. But to hear his private fears, baseless as they may be, parroted back at him in front of a room full of reporters who will then share the information with millions, it throws him off his game. He falters for a moment, unable to think of an answer that would play well with the audience. He’s unable to think of an answer at all, his brain having suddenly come to a grinding halt.
He’s at a total and complete loss and may be starting to panic just slightly, breath caught in his throat, when he sees Tony lean forward out of the corner of his eye.
“I’m sorry, have you met the rest of the team? Who do you honestly think could do a better job than Captain America?”
There’s a light smattering of laughter and the reporter goes to speak again, but Tony continues: “People are people. Bad people will continue to do the same shitty things for the same shitty reasons as they did years, decades ago. That will never change. Sure, some of the methods might have changed, might have become more technologically advanced, but that’s what I’m here for. I tell our good leader what the tech is capable of and he tells us the best way to take down the bad guys while minimizing civilian casualties. And for what it’s worth, he’s a quick study. He knows his way around a smartphone better than half the people in this room, at least.”
Another light round of laughter and Steve catches Tony’s eye. There’s a flicker of understanding over Tony’s face, followed by a wink, and then he’s back to mugging for the cameras.
Steve takes a breath.
The fight gets rougher. With Tony gone, they’re down a heavy hitter. Not only that, but they’re down a genius and are dealing with an advanced alien race. They really need brains on the problem, and with Bruce in the state that he’s in, Steve doesn’t think he’s going to be solving anything harder than two-plus-two at the moment.
They need to call in help and Steve needs to get a good look at what’s happening around them before he comes up with a plan. He tells Maria to contact Reed Richards and get him, and the rest of the Fantastic Four if possible, on location immediately, then sets off to the tallest building in the area to get eyes on the situation.
Steve barely stops himself from calling out to Tony, to ask him for a quick lift. The thought alone is like a knife to the gut, but he moves forward.
Steve is on the roof when Tony arrives, red and gold glinting brightly in the evening sun. He’s heading for the landing pad, where he usually sets down after using the suit, but abruptly changes direction. Steve watches as he approaches, landing a few feet away. Tony takes off the helmet and grins at Steve, who’s too busy looking at the suit to notice. If he’s completely honest, the Iron Man suit is probably one of his favorite things about the future.
“Enjoying the view?” Tony asks.
Steve clears his throat and looks back at the sunset he had been pondering before Tony’s arrival. He shrugs. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”
“Must be pretty different from how it used to be.”
Steve laughs. “I wouldn’t know.”
Tony lifts an eyebrow and Steve continues. “Poor kids didn’t often get the chance to be at the top of the city. And when I was able to actually do something about it, there wasn’t time to stop and smell the roses.”
Tony hums. “So is that what you’re doing up here? Smelling the roses?”
Steve smiles. “Metaphorically, yeah. It is a beautiful view. Helps to make things a little easier, to remember why we’re doing the things we do. Seeing the beauty in the world and all that.”
“Well, aren’t you a romantic.”
Steve huffs a breath in response but says nothing. Around them, there’s nothing but the wind and the small noises of the armor as they both lapse into silence. It’s a comfortable silence, Steve thinks. Not one he thought Tony would be capable of typically but Steve has found he’s been proven wrong time and time again when it comes to how he views Tony.
“I could give you a better view,” Tony says a minute later, breaking the silence and proving to Steve that he wasn’t entirely wrong.
Steve lifts an eyebrow and looks at Tony. “Yeah?”
Tony grins and takes a step towards him. “Step up on my feet. Let’s dance, Cap.”
Steve gives him a mildly distrustful look, but does as Tony says, and is promptly tugged tight against the armor when Tony snakes a hand around his waist. He gives Steve a wicked grin and says, “Hold on tight.” The faceplate snaps down and before Steve can say anything in response, the air is knocked out of his chest by the sudden movement.
They go up. And up. The wind rushes by his ears, nearly deafening, carding through his hair and he can feel the chill of it as it sneaks up the hem of his shirt. They’re going so fast that he can’t open his eyes and he seeks shelter by turning his face into the neck of the Iron Man suit.
It doesn’t last long, though. Before he knows it, Tony is slowing down until they’re at a complete vertical stop and he hears Tony’s faceplate flip back up.
“Check it out,” Tony says and Steve straightens himself back out, blinking open his eyes.
Words die in Steve’s throat as he looks around in a combination of adrenaline and total and complete awe. It’s stunning, absolutely gorgeous. It’s quite possibly one of the most beautiful things Steve has ever had the privilege of seeing with his own two eyes.
He can’t believe how far they’ve traveled from the tower so quickly, Tony must have taken them up at an angle. The bay stretches out to one side, sparkling in the late sun, the city is on the other side, the sun slowly sinking into the horizon behind it, light gleaming and reflecting off all of the high rises. Above, the sky is nearly clear except for one or two stray clouds and the color is already shifting into oranges and reds that have Steve’s hand itching for a paintbrush.
He doesn’t know what to say, he doesn’t know how to thank Tony for showing this to him, so instead he remains silent as the sun slowly sinks, the sky darkens, and the city’s lights shimmer to life beneath them. It’s nearly as beautiful as the sunset.
He looks over at Tony for the first time since arriving and is sees Tony’s wide, brilliant, brown eyes glimmering with the reflection of the buildings as he looks off into the distance, a soft smile set on his lips. It’s the first time Steve realizes just how attractive Tony is. The thought is immediately followed up by the realization of how romantic the experience has been. Steve feels his cheeks color slightly.
As if sensing Steve’s gaze, Tony’s head turns slightly, meeting Steve’s eyes. His smile widens into a grin, eyes crinkling around the edges.
“Well?” he asks.
Steve clears his throat and shakes his head, a smile on his face. “This is amazing. I can’t even begin--thank you, Tony.”
“Steve,” he says. He’s not in his suit now.
“Steve,” Tony repeats, his voice a little softer with just a hint of something behind it that has Steve wanting to lean in just a fraction.
So he does. But even as he does, he’s torn. A million thoughts and questions run through his mind. Some rational and some not so rational. Instead of deciding on his own, he waits to see what Tony will do. And for a brief moment it looks like Tony’s tilting his head in just slightly, but the silence is interrupted by a beep from the helmet, and Tony sighs. Steve is fractionally relieved at having the choice taken away from them all together.
“Ugh, I’ve got a teleconference scheduled tonight and I can’t miss it. Sorry to cut this short,” he says, and Steve can see and hear his genuine remorse.
Steve smiles and raps the side of the helmet with his knuckles. “Don’t worry about it, Shellhead. I appreciate you bringing me out here.”
Tony rolls his eyes at the nickname but is smiling all the same. “Hold tight, Steve,” he says as the faceplate shuts.
They make their way back to the tower a bit slower than before. Slow enough that Steve’s able to yell out a suggestion.
“We should practice this. I think it will come in handy in the field, if we know what we’re doing.”
The helmet bobs slightly. “You’ll have to wear your suit next time.”
It becomes habit, then. Every Sunday evening when the world doesn’t need saving and Tony’s not otherwise occupied, Captain America and Iron Man can usually be seen flying through the skies of New York. It’s a rare Monday that there isn’t at least one photo of them in the morning’s paper.
The Fantastic Four arrive as Steve’s making his way to the top of the building. He gives Reed a rundown over the comms, with Natasha pitching in every once in awhile to clarify some of the more technical aspects. Tony had been working with JARVIS on figuring out a way to shut down the portal before he had taken the hit that had knocked out his display. Luckily, JARVIS should still be accessible and Reed should be able to pick up right where Tony had left off
when he died.
Steve stumbles over a stair, but quickly recovers and continues relaying orders until he’s finally on the roof. He’s assessing the situation, telling Thor to abandon the portal to work on containment instead, when there’s a scuffle behind him. He turns, already sending the shield sailing towards the alien; the shield hits its mark perfectly, but not before the alien gets a shot off. One that hits Steve squarely in the stomach, hard. Hard enough to lift him off of his feet and send him reeling backwards.
Right over the edge of the roof.
He’s falling. He’s falling and his first thought is Tony will catch me before he remembers that Tony’s gone. Tony’s gone and Steve sent Thor away and there’s no way he’ll make it back in time.
Time slows down.
Steve closes his eyes.
“Wake up, old man,” Tony says from the doorway, a grin on his face, his arms crossed over his chest.
Steve groans and rubs at his eyes, trying to blot out the remnants of his latest nightmare. He sits up slowly and turns, setting his feet on the floor as he looks back to Tony.
The man looks slightly disheveled, wearing clothes that have clearly seen better days, dark circles under his eyes. Steve glances at the clock and sees it’s fairly early in the morning, even for him.
“You been to bed yet?” Steve asks.
Tony’s grin widens. “Nope. I was on my way there when I remembered I had something to show you.”
Steve hums. “So important that you needed to wake me up?”
“Absolutely,” Tony says without pause.
Steve lapses into silence for a moment, running his hand over his face. “JARVIS told you I was having another nightmare, didn’t he?”
Tony made a dismissive noise. “There may have been mention of heart rates and stress levels, I can’t be sure. I was too busy basking in the glow of my genius. Now chop-chop, Captain. Let’s away to the mad scientist’s dungeon.”
Steve smiles, warming at Tony’s unique brand of thoughtfulness, grateful for the opportunity to keep his mind off the dreams of darkness and ice.
Following Tony, Steve let’s himself get lost in Tony’s excited rambling. Not for the first time, Steve finds himself immensely grateful that this man is his friend.
The wind rushes past Steve’s ears, deafening. He thinks that maybe he should be frightened, but then again he’s always had a stubborn streak in the face of certain death. Why should this time be any different?
Time speeds back up with the sudden impact, a feeling of strong, armor-clad arms around his waist.
Steve opens his eyes.
Steve is going over reports on the couch when Tony walks in. He glances up just in time to see Tony undoing the bow around his neck and sliding the slick material out of the collar. His eyebrows go up when he checks the time.
“You’re back a bit early, aren’t you?”
Tony smiles. “The best thing about making Pepper my CEO, outside of her terrifying competence, is the fact that I no longer have to schmooze nearly as much as I did before. A quick show of face, a few hand shakes, and I am once again a free man.”
Steve lifts an eyebrow. “No dancing required?”
“All my dancing is on a voluntary basis only.”
Steve hums and looks back down at the papers spread in front of him.
“Why, Cap? Angling for a quick turn around the room?”
Steve huffs out a laugh and shakes his head, “Not one bit.”
There’s shuffling behind him, then socked feet appear in his line of sight, and Steve looks up. Tony’s grinning down at him. “I’m not sure if I should be offended at that or not, quite frankly.”
“Not offended. I just don’t dance,” Steve says
Tony looks thoughtful. “Don’t or can’t?”
The pause and slight reddening of Steve’s cheeks must give Tony his answer.
“Oh, we can’t have that. Come on,” Tony says, extending his hand in invitation. “JARVIS play something that Steve will like.”
The sound of violins fill the room. Steve looks at Tony’s hand and debates turning him down, torn between the thought of making a fool of himself and the surprisingly appealing idea of being led around the room by Tony. He opts for the latter, and takes Tony’s hand, looking at him seriously.
“I break your toes, you have no one to blame but yourself,” he warns, and Tony laughs.
Tony pulls him to the center of the room, pushing a table out of the way.
“Nothing fancy this time. Let’s just get you used to the movement. Then maybe we’ll get into some of the more complicated steps.”
Tony arranges their hands and steps into Steve’s space. “Alright now, don’t think about your feet. Follow my lead.”
Surprisingly, Steve stumbles only once--after he starts thinking about his feet--and the rest of the time is rather pleasant. Moving in slow circles with Tony’s hand in his. And, without his shoes, the top of Tony’s head only just barely reaches Steve’s nose. Steve can smell his shampoo. He turns his head subtlly and inhales quietly, enjoying the rich scent. If he’s completely honest with himself, he more than enjoys the way he can feel the warmth radiating from Tony in the few scant inches in between them.
His hand squeezes Tony’s of its own accord, and Tony squeezes back.
Steve opens his eyes and is frozen by the sight the greets him.
“Fancy meeting you here,” Tony says, grinning widely. “Need a lift?”
He looks a bit worse for wear, there’s a trickle of blood from one corner of his mouth and he’s sporting a few new bruises that weren’t there earlier, but he looks… alive. He’s alive and he’s there, his presence firm and real under Steve’s gloved hands.
A burst of laughter bubbles out of Steve, his face breaking into a grin. Words aren’t enough for what he’s feeling, words will never be enough, so instead he leans forward and captures Tony’s lips in his. There’s a moment of worry where Steve thinks maybe Tony doesn’t feel the same, but that worry is immediately tossed aside when Tony hungrily returns the kiss, his gauntlets gripping Steve’s waist tighter. Steve snakes his arms around Tony’s neck and tilts his head, opening his mouth when he feels Tony’s tongue against the seam of his lips.
They’re both startled out of the kiss by a small explosion below. They stare at one another for a moment before they both break into laughter.
Steve brings his hand to Tony’s face, rubbing a thumb along his cheekbone.
“I thought you were dead,” he says, voice low.
“To be fair, so did I. I was a little shocked when I opened my eyes and found myself on an alien ship.”
“Yeah. It wasn’t a bomb, it was some kind of... transporter? Like a miniature portal. I think they were trying to kidnap me, they wanted my tech. But then again, who doesn’t these days? Anyway, I made a little bit of a mess in their ship and managed to get myself back Earth-side. Alive and well. And, on an even brighter note, though I’m not sure what could possibly be brighter than my continued existence, this obviously means I figured out how their portal works. You called in Richards, right?”
“Awesome. Let’s find him and finish saving the world. What do you say, Cap?”
“I think that’s the second best thing I’ve heard all day.”
Tony lifts an eyebrow. “What was the first-best?”
Steve can feel the color on his cheeks and edges of his ears, but he maintains eye contact. “Your voice just now.”
Tony’s grin is brighter than the sun and the only thing better is when he kisses Steve quick, once, twice.
“Change of plans, how about I just take you back to the tower right now and show you my etchings? These mooks can figure it out on their own.”
Steve laughs. “Let’s save the world first, then maybe I’ll show you my etchings.”
“Man with a plan indeed. Hold on tight, Cap. Let’s do this.”
Steve moans, fists clenching against Tony’s decadent sheets. He feels one of Tony’s hands flex, gripping his bare hip just a bit tighter. With the wet heat of Tony’s mouth and his long, twisting fingers inside of him, it’s all Steve can do to hold on.
His hips move of their own accord, small little undulations as Tony works him over. It feels like they’ve been doing this forever and yet it’s still not enough.
After the battle, debrief postponed until the next day, it only took a few minutes for them to make their excuses, exchanging glances and smiles, before they were stumbling into Tony’s bedroom. They had stripped each other quickly, kissing and touching as each new expanse of skin was revealed, laughing as they tripped over their own pants, before falling into bed. From there it has been a haze of pleasure. Smooth slides of skin on skin, lips and teeth and tongue, gasps of pleasure and small little bouts of laughter until finally they got here: Steve squirming under Tony’s lavish attention, goosebumps pebbling his skin, sweat sliding down his spine.
“Tony, please,” he manages to get out, barely holding back from thrusting up. There’s a slow drag of tongue on the underside of his cock as Tony lifts his head off of Steve.
“Yeah, yeah,” Tony says, voice a little rough.
There’s movement, rustling of sheets, and Steve opens his eyes just in time to see Tony resume his position between Steve’s legs, spreading them further apart. He watches as Tony lines himself up, feels the blunt pressure against him, and takes a deep breath as Tony pushes in slowly.
When he’s fully settled, their eyes meet. The heat in Tony’s gaze sends another flare of pleasure up his spine. But that flare is nothing compared to when Tony bends forward, hooking his arms under Steve’s shoulder and starts kissing him, thrusting at a leisurely pace.
Steve’s threads his fingers through Tony’s hair as they kiss and tilts his hips up, trying to get Tony deeper. He moans against Tony’s lips with every thrust, pleasure racing through his body with every movement of Tony’s hips.
He’s about to chide Tony for taking things so slowly when he wants so desperately for more, when Tony nips at Steve’s bottom lip and pulls back.
Tony hooks an arm under one of Steve’s legs, using his free hand to press the other knee against Steve’s chest. “Hold on tight, Cap,” Tony says and begins to thrust in earnest.
From that point on it’s a haze of pleasure. Slick, wet sounds fill the room alongside Steve’s moans and Tony’s dirty words. He’s not sure how long he manages to hold out, but he’s given little choice in the matter when he feels Tony’s hand move to the overheated skin of his hard cock, stroking him slowly. It’s all over in a matter of seconds, the pleasure too great as his come stripes the flushed red skin of his chest.
After Tony has wrung out the last drop, he lets go of Steve and resumes his previous position, bending over him and kissing Steve hungrily as his hips move faster and faster. It’s not long before his hips lose their rhythm and Tony’s moaning Steve’s name into his lips, his movements coming to a stop entirely.
Steve runs his hands up and down Tony’s back, turning his head and pressing kisses to the side of Tony’s neck. Tony hums and pulls out of Steve but doesn’t move away. Instead he relaxes his weight onto Steve and lets himself be held.
Later, when they’re curled up around each other, still basking in the afterglow, a thought occurs to Steve.
“I saw blood,” Steve says.
“After the portal bomb went off, your helmet was laying in a pool of blood.”
“Oh. That? That was just hydraulic fluid from the suit. The hit I took to the shoulder busted open a reservoir. Pretty nasty color, isn’t it?”
Steve laughs, maybe a little hysterically. “Yeah, yeah. I’d say so.”
Suddenly, Steve is realizing how close he came to losing Tony, to losing this before it had even begun, and his heart clenches painfully. He shifts and pulls Tony to him just a little tighter. Tony sighs contentedly and runs a hand over Steve’s forearm. They lay in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the feeling of being wrapped up in one another, warm and alive.
Tony’s the first one to break the silence, because of course he is.
“By the way, your etchings are gorgeous. I wouldn’t mind taking another look,” he says.
Steve laughs again, more light-hearted than before, and kisses the spot behind Tony’s ear.
“Consider them yours.”