Tony woke up like he did most mornings; all tangled up in his blankets, with one foot sticking out from the edge of his bed, and an arm slung across his face. He woke slowly, groaning in disapproval at being awake, and without even opening his eyes, he flopped over onto his side with a rather unpleased groan.
His groan abruptly turned into a surprised grunt as his hand connected with a warm, firmly muscled bicep. Just like that, the previous night all came back to him in a rush.
Right. He’d slept with Steve last night.
There was a kind of rushing of blood to his face at that thought, jumbled memories of sweat slicked skin and heavy breath rushing back into his mind. He could hardly even say how it had happened, it had been so immediate and desperate. One minute they were sitting next to each other on the couch, knees touching and tension strung heavy and thick in the air, and everything had been completely normal. They were watching tv idly, like they did most nights that they were both around and too tired to do anything else, and it should have ended normally, with Steve turning in early and Tony disappearing into the shop for the night.
But something had been different. Maybe because Steve had just gotten back from a mission and Tony had been surprised by the fact that he’d been worried sick, even though he had no reason to be. Maybe it was because usually at least one other avenger was usually with them, and that gave Tony the opportunity to sit just a little bit closer to him than he usually did.
Maybe a lot of things, but for whatever the reason, when Steve had glanced over at him, did that thing with his eyebrow that Tony was more than a little obsessed with, and that was it. Tony lost himself to impulsiveness, something shattering inside of him that he’d pushed down for too long, and breaking free to the surface in one lustful moment.
He’d been carrying a torch for Steve for months, always telling himself that nothing would come of it, but something about that moment, the way Steve looked at him, the dimness of the room, the closeness… he was powerless. All he could think was that if he didn’t taste the fullness of Steve’s lips right then, he might actually die.
Luckily, Steve seemed to have thought the same thing, meeting him halfway with lips parted, and hands gently cradling his face, like he was something precious.
They crashed together, all wandering hands and frantic kisses, so fast that Tony couldn’t keep track of what was happening. They’d fallen together like two pieces of a puzzle, fitting together perfectly; Steve’s hand slotting into place around Tony’s thigh, Tony’s hand cupping the nape of his neck. They barely spoke, just lost themselves completely, and it didn’t take them long to find their way to Tony’s bedroom and tumble into his bed.
So now, Steve was in his room. Asleep in his bed.
Tony bit back another groan, and blinked himself alert, stopping himself fading back into that blissful state he’d drifted off to sleep in. There would be time for thinking about that later. Right now there was a more pressing issue at hand; that of a softly snoring Steve Rogers asleep next to him.
When he cracked one eye open and peeked over at Steve, he was immediately more than a little bit confused and a little dazed.
(To be fair, it wasn’t every day that he woke up next to Captain America, the memory of his voice breathy and steeped in pleasure still seared into his brain. He supposed the universe could forgive him for the butterflies in his stomach, and the heady desire still sitting heavy in his gut. Or, if it couldn’t forgive him, he didn’t really care. He’d just slept with Steve, and he was so happy he was pretty sure that he was about to explode.)
Though, disbelieving as he may have felt, it was hard to deny the sight that met his eyes, that of a buck ass naked supersoldier curled up on his side with his back to him, with not even a stitch of fabric covering him.
Well, that wasn’t what he’d been expecting. Something more along the lines of “gone without so much as a note,” seemed more likely.
"Steve, what the hell?" he demanded, his voice still crackly from sleep. When the only response he got was soft snoring, he upped the ante by accompanying the confused inquiry with a sharp poke to his shoulder blade.
Steve grunted, the noise heavy with sleep, and squirmed a bit in the covers. He brought his hands to his face to scrub at his eyes with the heel of his hands, and looked over his shoulder at Tony with bleary eyes.
"Mornin’," he slurred, and gave him a dopey half smile that looked better on him than it had the right to.
"Uh, good morning." Tony’s eyes flicked over the naked super soldier who was casually sprawled across his bed, equal parts appreciative and amused. "Is there a reason you’re just laying there like that?"
Steve blinked. “Like what?”
Tony gestured at his general nakedness. Steve seemed pretty unconcerned about his nudity, and just stared at Tony, waiting for him to continue.
“Like, without blankets and completely naked,” Tony explained after a few moments. “I mean, I’m obviously not complaining, I’m certainly enjoying the view, but aren’t you cold?”
Steve propped himself up on one elbow, opened his mouth in a wide yawn without even bothering to cover his mouth, and shook his head. “Nah, serum keeps me warm. Besides, after the third time you yanked the blankets off of me while you were sleeping, I decided it was best if I just let you have them.”
"Yeah, I’m a bit of a blanket hog," Tony admitted, a bit sheepishly. Many bedroom partners of the past had complained about that profusely. "Didn’t think I’d have to mention it considering I wasn’t really expecting you to spend the night."
An expression akin to guilt cut through his drowsiness, and suddenly Steve was frowning slightly. He sat up fully then, and rested his elbows on his knees, peering over at Tony with sleepy, concerned eyes.
"Sorry," he began, biting lightly into his bottom lip and taking a turn at looking sheepish, "I guess I fell asleep right after, I should’ve made sure you were okay with me sta-"
"Hush," Tony cut him off, and pressed the palm of his hand to his lips. Steve obliged, halting mid sentence. "That’s not what I meant at all, so don’t get all ‘kicked puppy dog eyes’ on me now. I live with you, Steve, I’m about seventy percent immune to it, and I know for a fact that the innocent act is just a front."
Steve blinked at him, sitting perfectly still while Tony kept his hand pressed firmly to is mouth.
And, because he was the absolute pinnacle of maturity, Steve licked his hand.
Tony yelped and wrenched his hand away, wiping the dampness on the sheets. Steve was grinning, his eyes all crinkled at the corners in amusement.
"You just licked me," Tony said, his voice a bit squeaky and coloured in disbelief. He narrowed his eyes at Steve, who was smirking at him, utterly guiltless.
"Yes," Steve agreed, a looking more than a little smug. "You did call me a puppy."
"That wasn’t an invitation to lick me!"
"My mistake," he shrugged, and then arched an eyebrow suggestively in an expression that was mildly reminiscent of the night before. He would never admit it out loud, but Tony may or may not have felt a shiver run up his spine at that look. "Besides, you didn’t seem to mind all that much last night."
Tony ignored the flare of heat in his gut at that comment. Captain America or not, the man was evil. Truly evil, and not half as innocent as most people seemed to think.
After glaring at him with his mouth slightly agape, Tony made a disgruntled noise and flopped down to burrow himself into the blankets and arranged his features into mock-displeasure. “I was going to share the blankets, but now I don’t think I will,” he declared, and ducked his head into the cocoon of warmth, the world going dark.
It lasted all of a moment before the blankets were pulled off and pushed away, light flooding back into his vision. There were strong hands gripping tightly at his hips, and in a flurry of motion that had him flat on his back with Steve’s chest pressed against his own, his vision was swimming with hair like spun gold and blue eyes that devoured him with unabashed hunger and want. Lips were hot and hungry on his, chasing away all thoughts of anything that wasn’t Steve from his mind.
Tony realized then that he could very easily get addicted to kissing Steve, and decided that the blanket dispute could definitely wait.