Actions

Work Header

The Privileges of Familiarity

Work Text:

Steve sat on a stool and watched as Tony worked on armor tune-ups. They hadn't been in a really serious battle in a couple of weeks, so the armor probably didn't need tuning up, but tinkering with its systems when there was no pressing need inspired a quiet glow of satisfaction in Tony, and the only other time Steve ever saw him in quite that mood was when they were curled up together.

Tony turned off the blowtorch he was holding and set it down on the work bench as he pushed his goggles up onto his head. He was wearing a pair of coveralls, but he'd shrugged out of the arms and tied them around his waist some time before Steve arrived, leaving his upper body covered only by a sweat- and grease-stained undershirt that clung to Tony's lean, sharp muscles considerably closer than Steve was used to. He swallowed and shifted on the chair, a little uncomfortably.

He'd already been...thinking about Tony, earlier. He'd been working out--not sparring, just working with the weights--and sometime during the endless, mindless reps his mind had wandered, as it often did these days, to Tony. He'd been warm from exertion and his blood was pumping and somehow considering which techniques he and Tony ought to work on the next time they had a chance to hit the mats together turned into thoughts of a much less innocent kind of wrestling. Steve had abruptly been both deeply glad he wasn't working with a spotter and angry at himself for it, because while he'd damn near dropped the barbell on his own foolish neck, the last thing he wanted was a witness to the state his thoughts of Tony had gotten him into.

A cold shower had solved the physical part of the problem, but it hadn't done much to dampen the trend of his thoughts. He'd tried to read or study SHIELD mission updates or watch the news, but there was nothing pressing, no motivation to focus. Steve had paced around his bedroom for a good ten minutes before deciding, in a burst of frustration, that Tony was his lover, after all, and had been for weeks now, and he could just go and ask.

That burst had carried him all the way down to Tony's lab--not that it was a long trip, given the express elevator Tony had built into this place--before petering out when he was actually in Tony's presence.

Tony had smiled to see him and motioned him out of the lab's doorway and asked if he needed anything, and Steve hadn't quite stammered when he said no. He'd tried a half a dozen times in the last half hour to say something, anything, that would give Tony an idea why he'd come down here, certain that Tony would take it from there, but every time he'd gotten as far as Tony's name before veering abruptly into another topic altogether.

Watching Tony sweat, thanks to the heat of the blowtorch, and muss up his hair with the raising and lowering of the goggles was only making the situation worse.

Tony regarded the armor with satisfaction for a moment before turning towards Steve, a small smile curving his lips. "You've been sitting there for nearly forty minutes," he said, approaching Steve, "and you've asked me what I'm doing three times, and I'm pretty sure only one word in three made any sense to you." He stopped in front of Steve, so close that Steve could smell him, sweat and metal and musk getting into Steve's blood and making it run hot, but not close enough to touch. "Which kind of makes me wonder if that's really what you wanted to ask about," Tony finished, raising his eyebrows in inquiry.

"I, um, just wanted," come on, he could say it, this was Tony, "to see you," Steve finished awkwardly.

Tony frowned at him for a moment before sudden realization dawned in his eyes and his expression slowly transformed into a knowing smirk. "You were still trying to say something after twenty minutes of watching me," he said, taking that last step to close the space between them, "so I'm betting that seeing me isn't all you wanted."

Steve could feel himself blushing, which was as good as a confirmation, but when Tony laid his hands on Steve's thighs and stepped in between his legs, he decided it was worth it. He settled a hand on the back of Tony's neck and drew him into a kiss. Tony's goatee rasped a bit against Steve's skin as they kissed, the caress slow and easy despite how long Steve had been waiting. Kissing Tony, he thought foolishly, was just like Tony himself: a little prickly on the outside, but warm and vulnerable once he let you in.

The hands on Steve's thighs shifted and Tony slowly slid them upwards, his thumbs dragging along Steve's inseam. Steve broke the kiss to speak. "We should go upstairs," he said. His voice was already a little rough, but really, he'd been thinking about this even before he'd come down here.

"Are you sure you want to wait even longer?" Tony teased, and his hands couldn't get any higher on Steve's thighs, and that wasn't Steve's inseam that his thumb was rubbing against.

"It takes less than ninety seconds to get from here to our bedroom," Steve said, but he couldn't help pushing into the touch of Tony's caressing fingers.

"And you know this how?" Tony asked archly.

"Emergency procedures!" Steve protested. Tony's fingers found a particularly sensitive spot and Steve gasped. It felt so good, even through his pants. Tony knew exactly how to use his hands to drive Steve crazy. But not in the lab. Steve caught Tony's wrists and slid off of the stool. Tony didn't give ground when Steve stood, which meant they ended up with their bodies pressed close together. Very close. Steve could feel Tony, hard and growing harder, pressed against his thigh. The sensation made him want to rock his leg against Tony, to watch Tony's eyes darken and his head fall back as he savored the touch.

It took a greater effort of will than Steve expected to step sideways, out from between Tony and the stool, and tug Tony towards the elevator. "Bedroom," he said firmly.

"If you insist," Tony said, allowing Steve to draw him across the lab and into the elevator. But once the doors closed and the car started to rise he crowded Steve against the wall and kissed him again, his lips eager this time, tongue sliding hotly into Steve's mouth and coaxing him into kissing back. Steve's arms went around Tony's waist, somehow, holding him close.

"Tony!" Steve protested when the kiss ended. "This is not a bedroom."

"It's an express elevator," Tony argued, hands sliding up his sides to stroke Steve's shoulders. "No one's going to get on between here and the penthouse."

"You are not the only person who lives in that penthouse," Steve said. "And this elevator doesn't open directly into our bedroom." It was at the end of the hallway that their bedroom opened onto, but the point held. How were any of the new Avengers supposed to take him seriously as a commander after they'd seen him making out in the hall like a teenager? Not to mention that there was no way that Peter, with his sense of the dramatic, would be able to resist some kind of smart remark.

"And yet you haven't let go of me," Tony commented, smiling at Steve with veiled eyes.

He hadn't. And he didn't really want to, to be honest. He liked having Tony pressed against him, enjoyed the growing heat of arousal and the little shivers of pleasure sparked by Tony's hands and the pressure of Tony's thigh between his, stealing his breath away, and he kissed Tony again, deeply, as if he could take his breath back.

The elevator arrived silently, the doors sliding open, and it was only the certain knowledge that this feeling could, in fact, get better and that it would, if he could get them to the bedroom, that made it possible for Steve to pull away. He dragged Tony--who was laughing at him now--out of the elevator, down the hall, and into their bedroom.

Steve made sure the bedroom door was firmly shut before pulling Tony into his arms again. Their mouths came together hard and intense this time, no reason to hold back now, and Steve moaned softly without ever breaking the kiss. He couldn't help grinding against Tony, his hands fisted in the sweat-damp material of the undershirt, need spreading through his body and making it ache.

Tearing his mouth away from Tony's took genuine effort, not because he was reluctant to end the kiss--although he was--but because Tony kept leaning in to hold onto it. "Tony!" Steve gasped, at last breaking free. "Hold on a second." Steve started to peel the undershirt off over Tony's head and then stopped and struggled to hold back a laugh, his shoulders shaking with restrained amusement.

"Steve?" Tony asked, confused.

Steve reached up and pulled the goggles off of Tony's head. "Forget something?" he asked, grinning.

Tony took the goggles from Steve and dropped them out of the way. "I was a little distracted!" he said defensively, but his eyes were twinkling and his fingers were sneaking up under Steve's shirt, brushing teasingly over bare skin.

"Just a little?" Steve removed Tony's undershirt and tossed it aside.

"Well...maybe more than a little," Tony allowed, stripping Steve of his shirt and going straight for his belt next.

There were times when it was nice to undress slowly, to enjoy each bit of skin as it was revealed, to tease and take your time. This was not one of those times. Steve pulled the knotted sleeves of the coverall apart and pushed it down over Tony's hips. They got in each other's way a bit as they undressed, but it didn't slow them down much and they let out twin sounds of frustration when they had to let go of each other to remove shoes and socks.

But then they were done and naked, which was a great reward. Steve put his hands on Tony's waist and pushed him back towards the bed. Tony went easily, never glancing over his shoulder or stumbling, just letting Steve move him.

They tumbled down onto the bed together and rolled into the middle in a tangle of limbs and laughter. "Eager, Steve?" Tony asked, eyes sparkling.

"I'm been thinking about this for an hour," Steve said, trailing kisses down Tony's neck and over the ridge of his collarbone. "I'm feeling a little impatient."

"Oh, I don't mind," Tony said, voice cracking a little as Steve drew one of Tony's nipples into his mouth. Tony's hand slid into Steve's hair, resting gently against the curve of his head. "You be as...ah, God...as eager as you like."

Steve smiled against Tony's skin and moved to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment. Tony moaned deeply; Steve could just feel the vibration of the sound under his lips. With a last lick he moved on, ignoring Tony's groan of disappointment in favor of skin faintly salty with sweat. Steve could trace the definition of Tony's abdominal muscles with his tongue. They twitched when he used just the tip. Steve chased the twitches across Tony's skin for a moment, but when Tony's hands slid down from his head and neck to his shoulders, he knew it was time to move on.

He'd never admit it, but the scent was a big part of what Steve liked about doing this. He always paused for a moment to inhale, to brush his nose through short, coarse hairs and breathe in the smell of Tony and want and desire. When they'd first gotten together Tony had protested the delay, had tried to urge him on, but by now he'd learned how much Steve liked it and he waited it out, even if his hands did tighten on Steve's shoulders.

Eventually, Steve took pity on Tony and turned his head to let his lips and the tip of his tongue and the hot wash of his breathe brush over sensitive skin. Tony moaned, a long, low, "Ohhhh," like he'd had a revelation.

Steve kept going, little touches, just an introduction, and maybe a chance to draw out that tiny, helpless, pleading noise that Tony always denied he made. Steve moved higher, tongue sliding over taut, hot skin. The salt-bitter evidence of Tony's eagerness exploded across his tongue and made his mouth water. And there it was, the sound, and Steve moaned softly just to hear it.

He needed more now, they both did, and Steve curled his hands around Tony's hips as he gave it to them, taking Tony into his mouth. His eyes slid closed as he savored the weight of Tony on his tongue, the sound of Tony gasping his name over and over, as if he still couldn't quite believe this was happening.

Steve moved steadily, taking Tony deeper and then releasing him almost completely, losing himself in the rhythm. He could almost swear he could feel the ache of Tony's hunger under his lips, as if more connected them than bodies. He found himself taking Tony deeper, eager for more of that connection, desire making his pulse thunder through his body.

"Steve," Tony gasped, low, needy, and Steve pulled away, wanting more.

He crawled back up Tony's body and kissed him, but only quickly. "I want you," he said quietly, intensely, hoping Tony wouldn't misunderstand--intentionally or not.

He didn't. "Yes," Tony said, drawing his legs up, knees bumping against Steve's hips.

The bottle was in the night table where it always was. Steve slicked his fingers and set it aside. Reaching down, he touched Tony gently, lightly, before pushing into the hot, tight grasp of his body. Tony released a sharp breath, but his eyes never closed, never broke from Steve's gaze. Once, that had made Steve feel self-conscious--okay, it still did, a little--but seeing the heat in Tony's eyes was worth it.

"Okay?" Steve asked after a moment.

"Yes," Tony said breathlessly. "More."

Steve gave him another finger and Tony whimpered and hooked one leg around the back of Steve's thigh, pulling impatiently. "Just another minute," Steve promised, twisting his fingers. He ached for Tony, for that connection, but he wasn't willing to risk hurting him to get there a few seconds sooner.

"I'm ready, Steve," Tony gasped. "I swear, I'm not just being impatient."

Maybe he really was, for once. His body was relaxed, his hands running over Steve's body eagerly, not grasping tightly in pain. "All right," Steve murmured. "All right." He wiped the slickness from his fingers on the sheets.

Tony immediately wrapped his legs around Steve's waist. "Come on," he urged.

Steve grinned at his ardency and steadied himself. "Trust me," he murmured, easing his way forward. "I want this just as much as you do."

All he got in response was an inarticulate hum of agreement, or pleasure, or both. Steve didn't mind; he was pretty far from words himself. He closed his eyes briefly, letting himself focus on the slow, sweet slide into Tony's body, the tightness, the heat, but he couldn't look away from Tony for long.

When Steve opened his eyes he found Tony had closed his. His head was pressed back into the pillow, his neck arched beautifully. Steve leaned down and kissed him there, and again, feeling Tony's hammering pulse under his lips, and on the corner of his jaw. Their bodies came together that last little bit and Steve lifted his head and saw that Tony had opened his eyes again. Steve met his gaze and took his mouth in a deep kiss.

Tony's arms slipped more completely around Steve, holding him close, pressing their bodies together, as if they could get closer than they already were. A rush of love washed through Steve and he caught his breath at the depth of it. So new and already so strong! "Tony," he whispered intensely. "Oh, Tony."

"Yes," Tony answered, opening his eyes again. He rocked his hips against Steve. "More. Don't stop..."

Steve took the hint, moving with Tony, bringing their bodies together before drawing apart again. He found himself building the rhythm quickly, the grasp of Tony's body driving his hunger higher. Tony moaned deeply, urging Steve on with the arch of his body, with his hands hard and fervent on his back. He was so beautiful like this: open, warm.

"Steve," Tony gasped, body tightening. "Oh, God."

Steve held him as Tony shuddered through his climax, though his own control was weakening. Even as Tony's cries of completion trailed off Steve buried himself deeper inside Tony, moving harder, faster, almost without meaning to. "Yes," Steve gasped, his sweat-slick skin sliding against Tony's. "Yes, yes, yes."

His eyes clenched shut and he gasped as sensation rolled through him, intense and overwhelming and good, so good. Steve struggled to catch his breath as the tide ebbed, letting Tony's hands ease him down onto the bed.

"One of these days," Tony said, stretching with lazy satisfaction, "I'll convince you to have sex with me somewhere other than the bedroom."

Steve spoke without thinking. "Try the shower next time." The moment the words were out he blushed furiously, actually able to feel the heat radiating off his cheeks.

Tony blinked in surprise and then broke into a broad grin. "Deal," he said, and leaned down to kiss Steve again. "And I think you have a couple of fantasies you need to share with me."

Steve moaned in embarrassment and covered his face.