Actions

Work Header

I won’t leave you falling

Work Text:

Steve groans and rocks, head tossing back and forth between his arms, eyes still closed.  He rubs his cheek on his own arm, presses his forehead against his wrist, mouth hanging open as he pants for air.  His cheeks are flushed brilliantly, one darker than the other from being pressed into the muscle of his biceps, and the flush stains its way all the way down his chest, over his hipbones and even into the lush, working muscles of his thighs. Tony can’t get enough of it, of staring at that blush; he’s enraptured every time by how far it goes down, how fully it covers Steve’s body.  He wants to put his mouth on it every time, too, feel Steve’s warmth under his tongue, but that can wait, it isn’t the time for that right now. Steve rolls his hips helplessly again, humping them against the bed, gasps out, “Tony.”  He mouth closes, swallows, and he slurs out, “Tony,” again, barely audible, and God, is he ever gorgeous.

“Right here, champ,” Tony assures him, slowing down the hand he has palming at his own cock, the way Steve looks. He’s sitting in a chair by the side of the bed, robe open at his sides so he can get his hand on his cock, naked other than that, one foot propped on the bed itself.  Of course, Steve is entirely, glorious nude except for his socks, which Tony insisted he wear to offer some padding for the ropes tied intricately around Steve’s ankles, the ones that attach to his bound wrists over his head, stringing him out over the bed the way he is now, a loop slipped over his no doubt aching sac to keep him honest, with a knot tied to press in just at his perineum, where he’s most sensitive, Tony had rubbed at him there until he was certain he was pressing up against his prostate from the outside, until Steve was groaning and jerking against him, then made certain the knot pushed in on him just there.  His legs are bent at the knee, but it’s not a hog tie, he just can’t stretch them out all the way, not without pulling his hands uncomfortably back over his head, anyway, and Steve hasn’t tried it.  It had taken some doing to engineer a soft form of rope that would actually hold Steve, but Tony is proud of this one.  It’s red, too, and looks so gorgeous against Steve’s flushed skin, the peach golden tones of him.  Steve moans and rubs his stockinged feet against the bed, his toes curling.  Steve’s breathing hard, and that unsteady breathing and the low buzz of the twin vibrators strapped to Steve’s body feel like the loudest sounds in the room other than the pounding of Tony’s own heart, desire furious in his ears, in his throat and in his cock.

Steve gives a low, thick, honest to God whimper and his hips jerk again.  His cock is so hard and heavy between his legs, furiously red and dripping precome against his stomach until he’s a glistening mess of it, his belly all slick and wet with the way his needy cock’s been leaking, his pretty blond curls damp and sticky with it where his cock nestles between his legs.  His balls look so heavy and thick, swollen with need until his sac is tight and smooth between his legs, and Tony has no doubt that if he touched it he’d feel how hard and firm they are (and Steve would quiver and moan at the touch, tilt his head back, mouth all open and needy). Tony licks his lips, swallows against a dry throat.  He wants to do that so badly, he’s going to have to give it a try later.  Steve’s been trying so hard not to jerk on his balls, and Tony’s sure it’s because they’re already sore and full, oversensitive from his delayed orgasm, but they still look red and tender, a little bruised from where he’s pulled on himself inadvertently.  Steve’s huge, gorgeous length of a dick is fully hard, slapping his belly with every desperate, twitching little jerk of his hips, all on display, head slick and full like he’s on fire with it.  Tony had made sure he was fully, gloriously hard before settling the cock ring over him, and right now it’s making him look like a porn advertisement for guys with huge dicks.  So big it’ll blow your mind, you won’t believe it! Tony thinks with a grin.  Okay, so maybe he’s a little loopy at this point, too.  Tony can’t imagine how badly Steve wants to flip over and rub against the bed, but so far he’s been so good.  He can’t imagine that will last much longer, though.  Steve’s not so great with orgasm denial.  He’s impatient when it comes to his cock.  Waiting’s hard on him, no matter how badly he wants it.

That’s one reason he’s wearing more than the one cock ring, just in case.  Steve had really, really wanted to not be able to come this time, had practically begged to be kept on Tony’s schedule despite himself, unable to come until Tony wanted, so Tony had gone whole hog, there’s another wrapped around the base of him, along with the elastic band keeping the vibrator snug against the underside of his shaft. Far be it from him not to give Steve what he wants, and Steve’s been known to come straight through a cock ring before. Amazing as that is, that’s exactly what they want to avoid right now.  Tony had considered a sound, on top of it, but he wants to keep Steve like this for a while, and it felt like too much of a risk, considering how much Steve usually writhes around and rubs himself raw.  He’s not going to do that with him unless he keeps his hand on it the whole time.

The vibrator against Steve’s cock has him looking raw. It’s cute and pink and the remote is strapped to Steve’s thigh, safely locked away from both their reach. Physically.  That’s the point of it.  With Extremis, Tony could be halfway across town and still playing with the settings.  But then, of course, he couldn’t watch.  It’d still be fun, but not quite as much.  (Besides, his stomach turns over at the thought of leaving Steve bound and alone—yeah, super soldier or not, whatever Steve says about it, they’re not going to do that.)

He’d never thought that would make Steve as hot as it does, especially with Steve’s distaste for Extremis at first, and he’s pretty sure it came as a surprise to Steve, too, but it makes him flush and groan just talking about it, now.  Tony’s pretty sure it’s a control thing, the knowing that Tony is utterly in control, that there really is absolutely nothing Steve can do about it.  The remote for the vibe in Steve’s ass is taped against the small of his back, equally out of reach, and it doesn’t make a bit of difference to Tony.  The vibration is strong enough that Tony can see it in Steve’s cock, just a bit, the way it’s quivering, just enough to send more and more precome spattering out against his belly rather then letting it well up and drip along Steve’s cockhead. Steve likes a painfully strong vibe, the type that would have Tony already wincing away; Tony has the one in his ass going like a fucking jackhammer and Steve’s still loving it, jerking his hips up and down like he wants more.  The rope between Steve’s legs wraps around the base of the vibrating plug, too, traveling up between his cheeks all the way along his spine to join the other in the ropes looped around his wrists.  The plug’s one of their bigger ones, too, more to stretch Steve out than give him localized pressure on his prostate, and it’s also red. Hey, Tony likes to play to a theme, and Steve’s all shades of pink and red now, except for the damp gold of his hair.  Steve can take a lot in his ass, but it’s still wide enough to give him a good stretch.

“Tony,” Steve moans again, brokenly, the words low and rumbling, mouth falling open again as his head lolls back between his arms, panting.  He works his hips helplessly against air.

“What is it?” Tony asks, keeping his voice low and soft, purring.  “You want to come, sweet boy?”

Steve gives a helpless, wet sounding gasp of a laugh, wry and almost hysterically sardonic, pumps his hips. You have a lot of nerve, bringing that up, that movement, that look, seems to say.

“I bet you do,” Tony says.  “God, you look so pretty like this.”  He wraps his hand around his own cock again, gives himself a few lazy strokes.  It would be so easy to come like this, just watching Steve wanting and writhing, a gorgeous tableau of need and desire held just at the brink, but he’s saving it. Still, it feels so good, and he moans, loud, not bothering to keep it quiet, and Steve forces his eyes open to slits, stares at him, mouth still open and chest heaving.  He licks his bottom lip, and the flush in his cheeks deepens. He’s so purely, unabashedly hungry for it, and it’s one of the best things Tony’s ever seen, every time.  “Not yet, honey,” Tony tells him, bringing his hand away from his own cock with a sigh, and Steve groans, yanks at his bound hands, then whines as that tugs on his sensitive balls, grinds the knot against his perineum, jerks and then starts himself off quivering and gasping all over again. He writhes on the bed for long moments, lost in it, just panting and gasping, cock bobbing between his legs, slapping against his belly, legs trembling madly.  “That’s it, sweetheart,” Tony says, keeping his voice warm, gently approving.  “Show me how much you need it.  Give me a pretty show.”

Steve moans.  “I need it, Tony,” he slurs out, rough and unsteady, “I need it so bad.”

“How badly do you need it?” Tony murmurs, playing with the level of vibration in the toy strapped to Steve’s cock, ramping it up then turning it back down before playing it back up again.

Steve gives a hoarse shout, as more precome spurts out across his belly.  “Please,” he groans, pumping his hips again, rolling them desperately, “please, please, Tony, so much, so.  So much.” His voice breaks in the middle and his eyes open to slits again as he pants, staring up at him.

“Keep working that gorgeous ass,” Tony tells him. “Prove it, sweet cheeks.”

Steve moans, high and needy, but jerks his ass up and down, obediently.

“Tell me how it feels,” Tony tells him, adjusting himself in the chair, keeping his hands off himself with an effort of will.

“Can’t,” Steve moans.

“Give it a try,” Tony coaxes. “For me, sweetie. Because I wanna hear you say it.”

“An’ y’ say,” Steve pants.  “Say you aren’t a sadist.”  It’s barely distinguishable, the vowels and consonants all mashed up in his panting mouth with his pleasure-slow tongue, but it has Tony laughing all the same.

“I like seeing you desperate,” he admits. Steve moans, throws his head back, between his own arms.  “So come on, give it your best shot,” Tony adds, voice as sweet and gentle as he can make it, soothing, maybe.  He hopes. Steve gives another low, throaty moan.

“So much,” he pants.  “Hot.  F-full. So—so hot all over.” His voice breaks and his cock jerks against his stomach.  “Helpless,” he groans. “Yours.  Please.  Please, Tony, please.”

“You always beg so sweetly,” Tony tells him approvingly, even as Steve’s words have heat pooling in Tony’s gut, flaring up inside him.  Steve’s so sincere when it comes to stuff like this. Inarticulate, even stuttery at times, but so goddamn honest.  Full. Jesus.  Tony just bets he is.  “Such a good boy.”

Steve flushes all over, even more than he is already. “Yessir,” he says, “please, good, ‘m tryin’.”

“You don’t need to try so hard,” Tony tells him. “You are good, sweetie. Just let go.  Just feel it.”

Steve moans, spreads his legs and humps his pelvis forward like it’s going to help.  “So much,” he groans.

“I know,” Tony tells him, and he does know, he really, really does; he’s really putting Steve through it tonight, but it’s what Steve had wanted, asked for again and again, until finally Tony had said he’d give it to him.  And he’s going to, he’s going to do this and he’s going to make it so, so good for Steve, so spectacular he won’t even know what hit him, because Steve had wanted this, and Tony’s not about to let him down, not if he can possibly avoid it, not like this.  He wants this to be even better than Steve imagined. “It’s a lot, and you’re taking it so well.”

“I’m gonna explode,” Steve mutters, working his hip against the bed, writhing on it.  Tony doesn’t respond to that, just laughs, keeps it low and gentle. He knows that Steve must feel that way; he looks so desperate.  He really is being so good, though, and he’s so utterly gorgeous like this it’s incredible to see.  Tony has to keep biting the inside of his cheek against the fondness welling up inside him, the softness warm and aching inside his chest, even more insistent than the throbbing want in his cock, because Steve’s so beautiful like this he doesn’t want to put a stop to it yet.  He curls his own hand around his dick again, but doesn’t move it, just holds his own hard dick there against his belly and watches Steve move.  ”Color?” he asks, after a moment.

"Green," Steve says, so quickly Tony can barely understand him.  "Greengreengreengreen."

Tony laughs.  ”Okay, okay, sweetie, I get it,” he says, and settles back into the chair to watch him again.

After another few moments of helpless, futile writhing, rolling his hips up into the air, cock bouncing with every desperate jerk against the bed, Steve ends up finally flipping himself over onto his front and rubbing himself desperately against the bed, with a groan of desperation like he’s giving up, like he just can’t stand it anymore, groaning and crying out with every twist of his body as the vibrator gets pushed into his cock and the friction of the sheets rubs up against his hypersensitive dick and balls.  He’s held out a really impressively long time, but Tony doesn’t blame him, especially when Steve’s normally so impatient; he expected him to give into the temptation to rub himself against the bed a while ago, no matter how uncomfortable it might end up for him in the end.  Steve’s face down in the comforter gasping out his shouts into the fabric, and the rope binding him has his hands and feet pointing up in the air, bound and helpless in a way that stretches out his thighs and biceps and must have him uncomfortable, but he doesn’t seem to care.  Tony can see where the red rope is tugging at his balls, the tightness of the knot where it digs into his perineum, the way Steve is pressing himself down against the rope where it digs into the sensitive flesh, rubbing himself over it, even as he practically sobs at the way it tugs on his balls, mindlessly fucking his cock against the bed.  His ass jerks up and down in the air, and this way Tony can see where the plug is spreading Steve wide, the pretty red stretch of the silicon in his asshole.  He ticks up the vibration in Steve’s ass a notch and he cries out, freezing in surprise just for a moment, then his ass lifts up, helplessly, slams back down into the bed, and he moans and moans.

Tony lets go of himself and pushes himself to his feet, can’t resist, crosses the room to the bed, not bothering to cinch the robe shut over his own cock, and skims his fingers down over the flushed red cheek of Steve’s ass, smooth and hot under his fingers.  Steve chokes in shock, quivers against the bed. Tony presses his hand flat against Steve's skin. He can feel the vibration traveling through Steve’s ass from where the plug is pummeling him. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he tells him. Steve gives a muffled moan, presses back into his hand, then humps his hips against the bed again. When Tony looks, he’s got a big wad of comforter in his mouth, biting down on it.  Another time he might tug it away, out of his mouth, tell Steve he wants to hear him, but this time he lets him have it, lets him bite down on it and drool into it and muffle all his desperate noises, and just skims his hand up, teases his fingers along Steve’s crease where the rope curves along him, snug against the line of his body, lets them linger over the plug.

He’s absolutely beautiful, and Tony can’t turn off the desire to touch, to play, to push Steve further into it as Tony skims his hands along every little detail of how Tony’s set him up to be fucked and held, teases and adjusts.  He needs to check him over anyway; it’s been a while, and no matter how often Steve tells him he can take it, that Tony doesn’t have to be as careful as he would be normally, it just makes Tony want to be all the more careful, because Steve deserves that care, super-soldier at the peak of human perfection or not. “Looking so gorgeous with this spreading you out wide,” he murmurs.  “I can feel how hard it’s going.”  He nudges it in, gently, and Steve gives a muffled shout, his head jerks up, and his hands and feet shudder, too, where they’re bound up in the air. “Can you feel that, gorgeous?” Tony asks him.  “I bet it feels good in there, fucking you numb.  Stretching you. You feel full, you said?” He puts three fingers on the base of the toy, testing its girth, nudging it in, fucking it gently in and out. Steve’s hole is stretched wide, pink and swollen and glistening with lube around the red base of the toy, but the give is still easy and slick, and when Tony tugs on it he can still see lube smearing along the side, so Steve shouldn’t be chafing yet. He eases it back in gently, but Steve still moans as it judders along as his insides as if Tony slammed it in hard.

“Yessir,” Steve slurs into the bedding. “So full.”

“Well, no wonder,” Tony tells him, “this thing is bigger around than three of my fingers.  If I pulled it out and sunk ‘em in there’d be room to spare.”

Steve groans, loud and long.  Tony leans down, keeping the heel of his hand cupped gently against the base of the plug, and presses a soft, gentle kiss just above the remote for the plug, tasting the soft sheen of sweat over Steve’s skin. Steve moans, whimpers, and his arms shudder.  “Shhh,” Tony tells him, stroking his side gently, running his thumb along his trembling flank. “You like that idea? You’d be all loose and wet, stretched out.  They’d sink right in.” He presses on the plug again with the heel of his hand, and Steve gasps loudly, presses back against it, fucking his ass back down on it, against him, desperately.  His eagerness makes heat build in Tony’s gut, climb along the back of his neck, hot and prickling.  “That’s a boy,” Tony tells him, praise for his eagerness, keeping his voice soft and warm. “You’d beg me to fill you up, wouldn’t you?” he continues, more loudly again now.  “You wouldn’t be able to stand it, gaping so open and empty, after feeling so full.  You’d need me to fill you up.  Your sweet little asshole would just suck in my fingers.”  He trails one finger around the stretched skin of Steve’s hole, stretched smooth and shining, then thumbs at it, and Steve whimpers, spreads his knees out wider and rocks back and forth, between Tony’s hand and his dick where he must be rubbing it raw and aching against the bed with the constant jerking of his hips, the way he’s working himself down into it.  “I love how you feel when you’re all soft and easy and needy inside for me,” Tony tells him.  “You take it so damn well.” His words are making him feel hot himself; hot and distracted, and his cock throbs needily between his legs. What he wouldn’t give to pull that plug out and sink right into Steve’s sweet, gaping hole, needing to be filled up again with him, hot and wet and soft and clinging perfectly around him. But that’s not what this is about, that’s not what Steve needs. What Steve needs is something else entirely, to be filled up until he brims over, maybe, but in a wholly different way. And Steve’s already so close, already most of the way there.

“Tony,” Steve moans, and it has the ring of pleading to it.  He presses back against Tony’s hand again.

“Well, you do,” Tony tells him, switches the vibrator to a different pace with a thought, slow and hard, thudding away inside Steve’s body, and Steve’s muscles go lax all through him; he lands on the bed with a gasp and an oof of effort.

“Ah,” Steve whimpers.  “So good.  Th-that’s so good, Tony.”

“You like that pace better, huh?” Tony asks him, stroking his ass with one hand, occasionally tapping the plug with one finger. “Slow and deep, like a good hard fuck.”

“S’good,” Steve moans the words out against the bed. His ankles shudder, jerking up and back, and he gasps, whines again as the movement pulls on his balls, and his hands shake, too; he buries his face in his arm.

“Ahh, easy there,” Tony tells him, then grins so Steve can hear it in his voice.  “I know, I know, you love getting fucked.”  He reaches down between Steve’s open, quivering thighs, runs one finger gently, so gently, over Steve’s tight, swollen sac.  He feels hot and hard, and he whimpers and jerks as Tony touches him like he can hardly bear the touch.  “You’re making yourself sore,” Tony tells him, even though he knows the main source of that painful oversensitivity is how badly Steve’s straining to come, how desperate he is. Steve groans like he’s in pain, which he probably really honestly is.  Tony runs his finger around the rope around his sac, tests the give. Yeah, he’s all right, probably sore as hell, but all right.  “Easy, sweetheart,” he tells him, soft and low.  “You’re almost there.”

“Really?” Steve stutters out into the blankets, and Tony has to smile at that, it’s sweet, and that’s where he wants Steve, just waiting for whenever Tony decides to end it, just accepting, not trying to work himself there, not trying to fight or even to endure.  He knows this has to feel like forever to Steve; he knows how it goes. He cups just two fingers under Steve’s hard, heavy balls, rolls them gently, and has him crying out, knees splaying out desperately wide in a way that makes his feet bob in the air.

“Shh,” Tony soothes, tests the tightness of the knot against Steve’s perineum.  He has a little rope burn there, he notices, despite the softness of the rope, from the overeager way he’s been pulling on it, no doubt, and he shivers, yelps, really, though it’s barely audible, at the touch of Tony’s finger against the sensitive skin.  The rope’s just tight enough, though, which is good.  “Yeah, really,” he tells him, skimming his fingers up and drawing little patterns on the round, muscular curves of Steve’s ass, rubbing his fingers in against the muscle, not quite a massage.  Steve shivers, shaking under him.  His ass is damp with sweat.  “You’ve been so, so good, sweetie,” Tony tells him, leaning forward to cup his hands around Steve’s wrists above his head, tilt them back over Steve’s head so he can look at them, tests the tightness of those ropes, too.  Steve’s wrists are pink all around them, but they’re not raw, and there aren’t any defined marks.  Perfect. He shivers more as Tony touches him, blows his breath out heavily, but willingly tips his arms back for him, then lets them swing forward again when Tony lets go.  “So good, sugarpie,” Tony tells him, and he sees it as Steve smiles at that, hazy and slow.

“Sugarpie?” he asks, slurring it out, tilting his head back to look dazedly up at Tony.  The slowness of his movements, the spaced out delay of them, easy and open, his movements heavy and exaggerated, is almost a parody of his usual quick response time and alertness.  He gasps as he looks up at Tony, squirms in his hips as the toy keeps up it’s thrumming, fucking rhythm inside him.

“You’re sweet as sugar,” Tony tells him, trailing his fingers down over Steve’s back, in a way that has his muscles trembling under the touch, and it’s true, it’s so true, he’s one of the sweetest things Tony has ever touched, ever known, good and pure and honest and beautiful, then leans in and settles his mouth over his shoulder, biting very lightly. Steve flinches in response, all out of proportion to the gentleness of the touch of Tony’s teeth against his skin. “And you look good enough to eat,” Tony murmurs in his ear, smiling as he pulls away again. That’s true, too, Steve is too gorgeous to be believed like this.

Steve laughs a little, all strung out and breathless. “All yours,” he murmurs breathlessly.

“See?” Tony tells him, straightening up to touch his fingers to the plug again.  “That’s my good boy.” Steve gasps, arches his back as he presses it into him, just gently, and then Tony pushes it in just far enough to brush against his prostate.  Steve cries out, arches up even more violently, his hips jumping up off the bed, then whimpers, jams his elbows into the bed, fucking his hips back against the toy. Tony knows how hard it’s thrumming into him, his own cock throbs and wants in sympathy, and he shifts his other hand, presses his fingers into the knot at Steve’s perineum, giving him pressure on that spot inside and out.  “That’s it, honey,” he breathes over him, “does that feel good?”

“So good,” Steve gasps brokenly. “S-so good, Tony.” His voice is groaning, hips jerking needily.  “Mmm. Mmm so close.  I—please, please.”

"Color?" Tony asks.

It takes Steve a second, but then he’s moaning out, “Green.”

“Just a little bit longer,” Tony tells him, pulls his hands away, and Steve gasps, groans, gives a moan that sounds almost like a sob against the bed, but doesn’t protest.  Tony feels how close he was, how badly he wanted it, the sense of loss, in his own gut, wrenching.  He really is so, so good.  The best. Tony reaches up, runs his hand along the back of Steve’s neck, over one shoulder, soothing him with his hands, warm palms and easy fingers.  Steve trembles, gasps into the covers, shaking all over, shifts his arms back and forth, pressing his face into his arm again, then down against the bed, not settling. God, he’s so desperate. Tony leans in, leaves a kiss on the back of Steve’s neck, rubbing gently against his sides, over his back, trying to help him settle.  “You can do this,” Tony tells him softly, “you’re doing so, so well, just look at you.” He strokes up to Steve’s shoulders, working his fingers in against the muscle, almost a massage. “You’re amazing,” he tells him, “so amazing.”  He trails his fingers against the sweaty dampness of the back of Steve’s neck.

“Tony, please,” Steve groans, rubbing himself against the bed again.  “Please.” His shoulders loosen, his head drops down, and he lets his wrists settle onto the top of his head, limp and lax, fingers open and closing on nothing but air.  “Please,” he whispers again, and it’s barely a breath, barely anything, but has the low, keening cadence of a moan.

There, that’s it.  That’s what Tony was waiting for.  Giving in, that easiness, that acceptance.

“Shh,” Tony tells him.  “I’ve got you, sugar.”  It’s always a bit of an effort to move Steve, but he gets his hand under him and on his shoulder, rolls him back onto his side.  Steve lets his legs splay wide open and loose as Tony does, gasping, lets his head fall back between his arms, lolling slack, almost faint on his neck, his mouth open as he gasps for air, legs and arms falling to lie limp against the bed.  He’s really a mess now, heavy cock raw and trembling between his legs with the force of the vibrator strapped to it, rubbed slick and red all over and straining at the rings, hips and belly even messier with precome where it’s smeared up to his chest, even his nipples raw from the friction.  “You must be sore,” Tony says, and Steve just whimpers a little, rough on an inward breath.  He gets his eyes open, peers up at Tony, needy slits of blue between heavy eyelashes.

“Yessir,” he mumbles.  “Please.  Please?”

Tony gets his hand down between Steve’s legs, thumbs at his cockhead, careful to be as gentle as he possibly can, and Steve cries out, head tips back even further, his knees jerk.  Tony runs his thumb down, over the vibrator tight and trembling against Steve’s cock, to rub gently just under it, between the ring around Steve’s shaft and the one around his base.  Steve jerks, makes a sound that’s almost a sob into his own arm. God, that’s hot, Tony feels guilty for how hot it is to have Steve so on the edge, so overcome, the way it settles low and banked like a hot circuit in his own cock.

“I’ve gotcha,” Tony says.  “Here.  Here. For you, sweetcheeks, you’ve been such a good boy.  So patient for me.” He switches the vibe against Steve’s cock off with Extremis, reaches down and tugs it gently out from under the ring, then uses the slackness to get his finger under it, tug it up over Steve’s cock and set it aside.  Steve gasps, gasps again, and again, shakes his head, like he doesn’t know what to do with the lack of pressure, and more precome dribbles out of his cock, his cock, swollen and hot, plumping up even further where the ring had circled him tightly. “I’ve got you,” Tony tells him. “It’s going to be all right, shhh, shhhh, slugger.”  He reaches down, curls his hand around Steve’s shaft, which has him groaning, even as he unclasps the other ring, the one around Steve’s base.  His hand is there a moment later, a firm grip, enough to make sure Steve doesn’t come, even as he whines, jerks violently in his hand. “Not yet,” Tony tells him, letting his voice drop low and husky.  “You know I didn’t give you the word, just wait a while longer, honeybunch. Just a little bit, you can do it.” He reaches up, tugs the remote free where it’s strapped to Steve’s leg, and sets it aside entirely, along with the two cock rings, still keeping his hand tight around Steve’s hot, needy cock. It feels like solid steel under the hot, burning skin that’s so soft under his hand.  Next comes the rope around Steve’s balls, that’s easy enough to tug free, though Steve whines, whimpers helplessly, jerks his hips and his ankles as Tony touches them, tugs on his sac just enough to get it off him, like it’s pure torture. Tony lets it hang there between his legs, a teasing coil against Steve’s trembling thigh.  Steve whimpers again, giving soft little sounds of desperation, wet and thick, bucks up into his hand, but Tony holds him still.  More droplets of precome well up at the tip of Steve’s cock, splash down against the skin of Steve’s belly and hip; his cock’s really drooling now. He always has so much, precome, come, all of it.  He gets so wet, every time, makes himself a mess, a gorgeous, beautiful mess, and it’s Tony’s goddamn privilege to see him like this.

Steve jerks his arms back and forth, moaning loudly, shaking his head.  “Almost there, baby,” Tony assures him, reaches behind him to press on the plug in Steve’s ass, fucks it up and in, then tugs on it just enough that it starts to leave the soft, needy grip of Steve’s body, pushes it back in.  Steve gives a hoarse little shout again, against his own arm, and that’s when Tony loosens his grip, drags his hand up, thumbs at Steve’s wet, messy slit.  He strokes his hand back down, lets his thumb linger over Steve’s foreskin, rubbing gently, then squeezes at his base, pulls his hand back up, and adjusts his grip on the toy on Steve’s ass just enough to press on his perineum with the thumb of that hand at the same time, rubbing it gently in against his skin. “There,” Tony says. “Come whenever you’re ready, sweetheart, go on.  Come for me.”

It’s teasing, of course, Steve’s been ready, right on the edge of it, for forever. If Tony hadn’t gotten his hand around him, he probably would have come instantly when he took the rings off. And Steve twitches a bit, he’d probably give Tony a dirty look if he was more together, but he isn’t together, not at all, and he doesn’t, just tips his head back and groans, long and quiet and rasping in his throat.  It just takes one more press in of the plug vibrating in his ass, Tony holding it against his prostate deep inside and pressing in with his thumb against Steve's perineum so his prostate gets it inside and out, working his other hand over him, and Steve gives a noise that’s soft and broken, not even a wail or a shout, so needy and wet, so deep in his throat, and comes, his raw, wet cock spurting and spurting come across his chest. Some of it gets up to his nipples, and a bit of it even lands on his working throat, and how’s that for a show? Tony’s own cock is throbbing with want, at how fucking hot that is, Steve is, he feels hot all over, prickling with it from his head to his toes, like even the fabric of the robe is too much against his skin, but he keeps working at Steve’s, rubbing his thumb against the underside of Steve’s cockhead, concentrating on milking that orgasm out of him for all it’s worth.  He damn well deserves it after all that.  And Steve doesn’t look like he’s going to stop coming any time soon, his cock twitches and twitches and he writhes all over the bed, hips jerking up then away, his back arching and arching, tossing his head back and forth between his arms.  Sometimes this can happen for Steve, either he just has an extra long orgasm or he just keeps coming right into a second in a row, Tony’s never been sure which, but this is exactly what he’s shooting for, what he’s been shooting for, and he feels the warmth of satisfaction, of Steve’s pleasure, the sweetness of it, settle down into him. Perfect, then. He did all right, after all.

He dials down the vibration in Steve’s ass as he comes and comes and his ass clenches down around it, clenches up all tight, pushes the plug in a little further to get that stimulus right on Steve’s sensitive prostate, right where he wants it, and strokes his thumb gently down Steve’s straining shaft, leaning in to press kisses along Steve’s glowing, come-spattered skin.  Steve’s still coming, sighing now, wet little sounds in the back of his throat in between long, soft sighs, trembling all over as his cock paints another streak of come over his hip.  Tony shifts back, leans down to take Steve’s sac in his mouth because, well, he only has two hands, and his mouth’s been watering to get on some part of Steve for a while, him and his oral fixation, he can’t help it, and Steve always feels so damn good under his tongue.  This is no different, Steve’s balls are softer now, less painfully hard but still sensitive, if the way Steve arches and moans loudly and unashamedly, voice breaking, at the touch of his mouth, is any indication, and they fit easily in his mouth along with the soft skin of his sac.  Tony slides his tongue along them, works them in his mouth even as he teases the plug back and forth inside Steve’s body, dragging it over his prostate, even as he rubs the thumb of his other hand along Steve’s shaft, kneading his cock gently between his fingers, milking that orgasm out of him.  Steve gives a ragged little noisy breath that’s almost a shout, shudders again and again, still coming.

Eventually, long moments later, full of the musky, clean-skin-and-sex scent and taste of Steve’s balls, Steve’s body trembling under him, Tony pulls away, when Steve’s cock has stopped jerking under his fingers, stopped spooling out come, and he’s started flinching, moaning and moving restlessly under Tony’s touch, even the soft, gentle, so gentle, movements of his mouth over his sac, the soft touches of his tongue. Tony dials down the vibrations in his ass down to almost nothing with a thought, and Steve gasps like that alone is a shock, pulls his hand off the plug and lets it settle back into its natural seat in Steve’s body, where his hole clenches softly around the stem. He lets himself lick up Steve’s cock before he pulls off, savoring the extra heat it radiates, the half-hard tiredness of it, the taste of Steve’s salty-sweet come as he suckles at the head, careful to keep it gentle against his over-sensitive skin, swirls it up with his tongue, swallows it down.  It settles in his belly, in his cock, the weight of it on his tongue, the taste, and he knows he’s being selfish, but Steve is sighing pleasurably, arching his back and letting his cock push further into Tony’s soft, welcoming mouth, so it’s all good.  Tony lets one hand settle on Steve’s hip and thumb into the hollow of it, gentle against Steve’s sweat-slick skin, painting a thumbprint through the damp, glistening skin there, then pulls off his cock entirely.  He looks up, and Steve’s smiling down at him, even though his eyes are glassy and sheened over, wet with overwhelmed sensation, his eyelashes starry and clumping together with the dampness.  “Tony,” he whispers, and sound barely comes out of his mouth, but Tony sees him form the word, hears the soft breath of sound escape him.

“Right here, champ,” Tony tells him, leans up from where he’s squatting on his heels beside the bed, skims his hand up over Steve’s stomach, through the trail of come because Steve is going to love that, and sure enough he sighs and flushes up happily, eyes canting to the side and his lashes flicking down over them.  Tony tweaks Steve’s nipple with come-messy fingers just to see Steve gasp and smile, and then settles their mouths together.  Steve surges up into it, bound hands or not, letting them fall back behind his head as he leans in all sweet and eager and softly open, his mouth giving and giving and fumbling against Tony’s lips.  Tony presses him back down into the bed, half because the way he’s twisting up is making him pull on his own ankles, partly so he can curl his other hand against the side of Steve’s jaw and kiss him properly, the way he’s asking for, the way he deserves, deep and warm and generous, filling Steve’s mouth up with his tongue, kissing him deep and giving him everything that sweet eager open mouth is asking for.  They kiss for a long time, and Steve just lets himself be pushed back against the bed and moans into it, eager and trembling beneath Tony as he covers him with his body, chest to chest, tilting his head back and arching up into the kiss and welcoming Tony in again and again, like he never wants to let him pull away from his mouth, never wants to let him go.

Finally Tony pulls away, stroking his hand along Steve’s jaw to soothe his eager whine, letting his thumb press gently against his lips to stop the way Steve tries to follow him.  “Shh,” he tells him, presses a kiss to his sweat-damp forehead, warm and messy where his hair is sticking to it, rubs his thumb gently over his lips, and Steve takes to nuzzling into his palm, presses soft little breathless, wet, gentle kisses against his thumb.  “I’m still right here,” he tells him, “right here, baby doll, you did so well, such a good job.  So incredible, Steve.” With the back of his mind, he dials the vibration in Steve’s ass down to zero.

Steve smiles and lets his body relax with a soft sigh, lets his legs drop closed, knees settling to rest together, presses another kiss against the base of Tony’s thumb.  “Good,” he slurs.  “’m glad.”

“Was that enough for you?” Tony asks him, bringing his hand up to push those messy gold strands off Steve’s forehead, running his hand through his hair.  “You feeling satisfied?”

“I think I came three times,” Steve says, still slurring a little.  His body is still so gorgeous, stretched out over the bed, hands bound over his head and knees laid almost demurely together now, tired cock poking out between them, ankles hitched up behind him and still bound with red cord, but it’s not half as gorgeous as the look in his eyes, wondering and satiated and softly blissed out, safe and tired enough his lashes are heavy.  “I’ve never gone three at once before.  And I’m still so full.”  He smiles up at Tony. “S’real nice,” he slurs out, the words unspooling soft and slow between his lips, his tongue soft against the bottom one.

Tony smiles back at him at that, can’t not, really, when Steve’s smiling at him like that, know it comes out just as soft and warm. “You like that plug?” he says. “Like how it fills you up?”

“Not as good as you,” Steve says with a grin that crinkles up the corners of his eyes, and something in Tony’s heart catches, seizes up, in a soft, feeling way that really shouldn’t have anything to do with Steve saying he likes Tony’s cock better than a vibrating anal plug, no matter how well made, but there you go, “but yeah, mmm, I like it. S’heavy; I like the weight. S’good.”  He rolls his hips a little, as if testing it out, and it’s really unfair how hot that is, the unthinking nature of it, how Steve doesn’t even mean for it to be seductive, he’s just testing the weight inside him. It pushes Tony’s breath out of him in a soft, heavy exhale just seeing it.  “Yeah,” Steve mumbles.  “Feels good.”

“Good,” Tony says, reaching down to pat at Steve’s hip, rub there gently.  Steve makes the word afterglow seem like the literal truth, sheened all over with sweat and flushed gently, he really is practically glowing, like his pleasure is lighting him up from the inside, suffusing out of his pores.  Tony smiles at him.  “Good. I put some extra weight in there this time, since you said you liked the heaviness.  Some of the same materials I have in the armor, actually.”

Steve gasps a little, his lips part, and then he grins, still all heavy-lidded and soft.  “You can’t just say things like that, Shellhead,” he mumbles. “Now it’s even hotter. Like having part of you inside me. I like that.”

Oh, hell.  Now Tony’s leaning forward, resting his head against Steve’s sweat-slick side. “I can’t say things like that,” he mutters.  “Jesus.”

Steve laughs, and it’s soft and rich and warm, low. “You haven’t come yet,” he says. “Please?  I want to make you come.”  When Tony raises his head, Steve’s looking up at him, soft and hopeful and wanting.  He tugs on the bonds at his head a little.  “Please use me to make you come, Tony,” he murmurs, and.  God. Who can resist something like that?

Tony wipes his come-damp hand off on Steve’s side, then leans in to kiss him, taking the sides of his face in both his hands to tilt him into the kiss.  Steve leans up into him again, soft lips against his, parting sweetly as Tony opens his mouth, kisses him firm but gentle, then pulls off again. “Of course, dollface,” Tony murmurs back.  “How’s coming in your mouth sound?”  Steve’s ass is already full of the plug he’s liking so much, and Tony figures in the space he is now, he might like to have something to fill up the other end. Besides, Steve’s mouth has been so easy, so welcoming, for Tony’s lips on his, and as much as he’d like to fuck Steve’s soft, stretched, open hole, the way his mouth opens for him, the way his body arches so pliant back against the bed, has him wanting this just a little more.  Sure, he could just rub off on him, but after all this, it just doesn’t seem like the right way to end it, doesn’t feel like it’d satisfy, for either of them. Tony wants inside Steve, that wet, welcoming heat.  Steve’s been fucked and restrained and held by everything other than Tony so far tonight, extensions of Tony’s will, his control, but not his touch, and by this point, Tony knows all too well that sometimes a touch, warm and physical, feels like it’s all you want.

Plus, it’s easier, cleaner, too, and Steve’s already one hell of a mess.  Nothing like practical considerations.

“Sounds perfect,” Steve mumbles, eyes lighting up a little, and he arches up toward Tony.  “Please.”  He drags out the last word a little, and Tony can’t help but smile, even as his cock’s throbbing in anticipation at the thought.  At how much Steve seems to want it. Christ.

“Okay, cupcake, you got it,” he mutters, and strokes one hand down the side of Steve’s face, gently cupping his jaw, before he rests his thumb at the side of Steve’s lips.  “Open up.”  Steve lets his mouth sag open instantly, lets his jaw relax and his mouth open wide, and his eyes flutter shut.  “That’s a boy,” Tony mutters to him again, and shifts himself up onto the bed, getting one knee braced against it and letting the other skim over Steve’s chest, settle over his other shoulder before he leans in, gets a hand on himself. He almost groans just at that, his cock’s been so hard and throbbing, neglected between his legs for a while now, and that’s before he even feeds it into the soft, waiting space of Steve’s mouth.  He’s so, so warm and wet, and Tony has to clench his fists, take a deep breath, so as not to fall forward or fuck into that hot, welcome space the way he wants to so badly. His hand falls back down to Steve’s cheek, against his jaw, cups him there, holds him there as gently as he can with his hand trembling at the sensation, rubs there affectionately with his thumb, against Steve’s cheekbone.  Steve tilts his head up from between his own glorious biceps, looks up at him, just a tiny flash of blue beneath heavy golden eyelashes, before those lashes flutter back down over his eyes and Steve closes his lips around him and starts to suck.  Tony sucks in his own breath, holds himself over Steve, one hand on the bed, and closes his own eyes as the soft, easy suction washes over him, the pleasure, the pure feel of it after so long.  Steve’s mouth is hot and soft and willing and the suction is pure and simple, Steve not even touching him with his tongue, just sucking. Tony curls his fingers into Steve’s hair, holds him gently at the back of his neck, and pants for breath, gives an experimental little thrust forward into that warm, willing mouth.

Steve gives a happy little moaning sound, leans up into it.  Tony hears himself groan, broken and rough.  Steve’s mouth is so hot and velvety-smooth, soft and wet around Tony, and so open as Tony presses into him.  “Oh, sweetheart,” Tony hears himself groaning, “oh, baby, so good, you’re so, so good.”

Steve’s eyes flutter, and he gives a soft, happy mmm of a noise, laves Tony’s cock with his tongue, even as his bound hands open, curl and grasp, shift over his head.  The muscles in his arms are so loose and relaxed even bound back over him the way they are that Tony can hardly believe it.  Tony gasps, groans out a breath, bends down over him.

“Sweetheart,” he gasps, pets his fingers distractedly through Steve’s hair as pleasure shoots through him, shooting through his cock, hot and searing up through him like a repulsor blast. He sets his knees, pushes in a little more, and Steve just lets his head loll back, his mouth fall open a little more. “That’s it,” Tony gets out hoarsely, “just open the back of your throat, just like that, if you can?”

Steve swallows, keeping his lips closed around him, works his throat, and then he relaxes, and Tony can feel it as he presses forward, the way Steve’s throat clasps and struggles, closes up against him just for a moment, then relaxes and lets him in.  Steve struggles with that, most of the time, and Tony just—his breath catches in his own throat at first, he can’t believe how easy Steve’s letting him inside, just down his throat.  “God,” he gasps out, and it sounds like it’s been punched out of him, hoarse and tight, his fingers come up and press Steve’s hair back from his face without conscious command, “that’s so good, that’s so good, that’s gorgeous, sugar, so good.”

Steve’s eyes crinkle in a way that means he’s pleased, happy, and he moans softly, muffled and choked, around Tony’s dick, sucks on him as best he can with his throat all filled up. “Such a good boy,” Tony groans and pulls out of him just a bit, slides back in.  Steve just takes it, moaning happily, his hands all open and soft against the bed, and God.  Tony fucks into that hot, velvety-tight, perfect space again, once, twice, three times more, and then he’s bending down over Steve, doubling over; he can’t help it. “I’m coming,” he gasps out, “I’m coming, you’re going to swallow it down like a good boy, right?”

Steve nods as best he can, jerking his chin down eagerly, and Tony has just enough presence of mind to shift back out of his throat before it’s shooting through him, hot and immediate, like explosions going off behind his eyes, white-hot and arcing through him like lightning. He lands heavily on his hands and knees, with an oof, loses track of time for a while as pleasure arcs and plays through him. He isn’t quite sure how much later he comes back to himself, just that Steve is lapping at him softly, with dedication, he can feel the soft little passes of his tongue, the quiet sucks and pulls of his lips, and when he manages to catch his breath, open his eyes again and look down at him, Steve’s face is deeply flushed, his eyes closed, but he looks blissed out where he’s sucking gently at Tony’s cock. There’s a little bit of come that’s leaked out over his cheek, gleaming along his jaw, and Tony catches his breath, feels more than hears the groan that leaves him at that. “You have the sweetest mouth, sunshine,” he manages to get out, all hoarse and rasping breathily, as he slides back, thumbs gently at Steve’s cheek, dragging it through that streak of come, warm against Steve’s flushed skin, because he just can’t help it. Steve makes a soft noise, and his eyes flutter, but he doesn’t stop his soft, gentle sucks at Tony’s cock, and oh, God, every one of them sends shivery, soft, almost too much pleasure lancing through Tony, twining around his nerves.  “Shh, shh, you can stop now,” he manages through the heavy, pleasure-thick slowness of his orgasm, and Steve makes a sound but opens his mouth, lets Tony pull out, which he does, even as he can’t hold back a groan at the loss of that warm, wet clasp around him, the sweet, welcoming softness.  Steve's mouth is slick and wet and messy, just hanging obediently open, and Tony swipes up that come, slides his thumb between Steve’s puffy lips as he pulls back. Steve’s lips close around it without his eyes ever opening, and he sucks it willingly off Tony’s thumb, and if Tony hadn’t just come his cock would be jerking, wanting to get hard. Even as it is, that starts a low burn of heat in his gut.

“So good, honey,” he murmurs, leans down and presses his lips to Steve’s forehead in a gentle kiss, only then pulling his thumb out of the warmth of Steve’s mouth.  Steve moans a little, shivers, pulls at his arms above his head, but doesn’t open his eyes. “Shhh,” Tony says, moving back, swinging his knee back over Steve’s chest, even if it’s a little clumsy, skimming his hands down over Steve’s sides, soothingly as he can, as he does, and then he falls back onto both knees on the bed.

Steve’s cock catches his eye, hard and red, that and the helpless little squirm of his hips.  He’s half hard again, cock looking raw, bright red and angry but needy with it, so, so needy.  “Oh, jeez, sweetie,” Tony breathes out.  “You just don’t know when to quit, do you?”  He reaches out, curls his hand gently around Steve’s base.  He’s still hot there, overwarm and probably a little raw. Steve whimpers, jerks against his bonds, opens his eyes and peers down at Tony, panting breathlessly, open-mouthed. “Do you want to come again?” Tony asks him, trying to get his brain to focus.  Steve looks so raw, more than a little sore, and sometimes he doesn’t want to try to get through soreness like that, even for another orgasm. Tony can’t quite believe he’s hard again; sure, it happens all the time, sometimes his erection won’t even go down when Tony’s fucking him, but this time he’d really worked him over, and his cock had been so limp and tired looking after that chain of orgasms earlier.

“Please?” Steve slurs out, questioningly. “I’d—I’d like that,” he adds in a mumble, like the words are too thick for his mouth.

“Then you got it,” Tony tells him instantly. He’d like to untie Steve first, but it’s too much trouble; it’s going to take a while, and he wants to give him this now, without having to wait, so instead he just slides his hand up along Steve’s shaft, then bends down and takes him in his mouth and sucks, gentle as can be.

Steve gasps, and there’s no real voice behind it, but it’s almost loud enough to be a shout anyway.  “Oh, oh, oh,” he gasps, groans out, as Tony sucks, swirls his tongue softly around his tip, laves down the side.  He feels Steve’s body work under him, his back bowing, his chest heaves and his hips push up, thump back.  Tony hums gently around his hot, throbbing mouthful of cock, sucks Steve in a little deeper and works his hand up and down him again. Steve’s body arcs in a gorgeous bow, his head thuds back against the bed between his bound arms. “Ohhh,” he groans out, loud and long. It takes a lot to make Steve make these kind of noises during sex, he’s usually quiet, self-contained, and Tony feels proud of himself that he’s gotten so many out of him this time around. That’s it, he thinks to himself, working Steve’s hot, trembling cock in his mouth, that’s it, sweetheart, go on, just let go, let yourself feel it.

Steve comes with a wet, shuddering gasp, blows out a gust of air as his come spurts across Tony’s tongue in a little gush, nothing like as much as normal.  Tony swallows it down happily all the same, laps at Steve’s head to get the rest up, gives him a few more strokes to work it all out of him, then sucks gently at the head as Steve comes down.  He can tell when it gets to be too much when Steve’s thighs start to tremble violently and pulls off.

God, that was nice, getting his mouth on Steve after all, Tony feels both heavy and light, like somehow he worked himself through another orgasm and cleared his own head at the same time. He straightens up, slides another hand down Steve’s side, petting him gently.  “There,” he says.  “How’s that feel?”

“Mmm,” is all Steve says.  His mouth is open, head lolling against his forearm, forehead against his wrist, and his eyes look blown and heavy where they’re half-open. He’s done, he’s so obviously done. Hell, Tony still can’t believe he got him to this point tonight.  He feels a momentary swell of pride, warm in his chest.  “S’good,” Steve manages, after another long moment.

Tony grins, knows it’s loose and sloppy himself, half-silly.  “Good, good,” he murmurs.  “I’m going to untie you now, sport, you all right with that?”

“Mmm,” Steve agrees, nodding slowly, rubbing his head against his own wrist in a way that catches on his hair and fuzzes it across his forehead.  His toes flex in his socks, push against each other, into the bed.  “Yes, yessir.”

Tony takes one more moment to admire how Steve looks like this, fully spread out, chest down to his thighs on display with the way the rope splays him out over the bed, keeps him arched back just enough, his gorgeous arms and the way they’re draped, bound just over his head, the contrast of the rope against his skin, then scoots up along the bed and reaches for Steve’s arms.  He did the knots, so he knows how they come undone; it’s just a lot of unlooping and unwrapping now, really.  He uncoils the rope carefully from around Steve’s wrists, easing the knots free, and Steve gasps as the tautness of the rope connected to his plug, to his ankles, goes slack. “Shh, that’s it,” Tony murmurs to him, brushing the rope back behind Steve’s now freed wrists, taking one of them into his hands and massaging it gently between them.  Still no marks, and he’s glad of that, just a little pink from pulling on it, and with Steve that’s only to be expected. Steve sighs, goes limp in Tony’s hold, lets his wrist go heavy as Tony rubs at it.

“That feels good, too,” he slurs, head tipping back like it’s heavy as he gazes up at Tony, mouth moving slow and eyes heavy-lidded, half open.

“Good,” Tony says, with a brief laugh, “it’s supposed to.”  He rubs his fingers into the strong, corded muscles a little more firmly, kneading gently, then reaches for the other to give it the same treatment.  With the back of his mind, he turns on the bathwater, being certain the temperature’s nice and hot, just how Steve likes it. The computerized controls for the bath sure do come in handy.  He already set up everything else in there before they started, they just need the water.

“Tha’s so nice, Tony, thank you,” Steve adds, fingers flexing, curling gently as Tony touches his wrists.

“I’m glad,” Tony says, more softly, skims his hands down over Steve’s wrists, running his thumbs down the inside of them, over his pulse points.  “Here, let me get the rest of it.”  He rolls Steve forward just a little, tugs the rope out from between the cheeks of Steve’s ass, detaches the tape and pulls off the remote for the plug as gently as he can. Steve still gasps, shudders a little bit, but the skin just ends up a little pink, again, and Tony rubs over it lightly with his thumb before moving down to untie the rope looped around the plug where it’s pressing into the sensitive skin of Steve’s ass, just against his hole.  That gets a lot more gasping, deep and heavy, accompanied by groans, from Steve, and he squirms under the touch, though Tony keeps it as light and gentle as he can as he unwinds the rope, pulls it free.  He can’t resist playing with the toy, though, carefully settling it back into Steve’s body, now that the rope is gone, twisting it to make sure it lies just how it should. Steve moans, and his hips roll slowly, needily. His hole is so pink, worked open and soft, just a little red and puffy around the edges, where Tony drags a finger as he settles the plug into him.  “I’ll get that in a minute,” he says, and Steve huffs breathlessly into the covers.

“Y’can take your time,” he slurs against the bedding, and Tony grins, taps it with two fingers, making Steve gasp and jerk, squirm his hips against the bed, even as Tony pulls the rope free of his ass.

“You really do like that, don’t you?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Steve says, breathily. “Y’know I do.  S’big and heavy.  Feels good.”

Steve’s ass is such a hot button for him, it’s incredible, and his prostate is so damn sensitive Tony’s jealous, though since Extremis he’s found that his own sensitivity there has been pushed up a notch to almost the same level, which was … something else to find out about that, that’s for sure.  But Tony thinks a lot of it’s just that Steve likes the feeling, to be fucked and filled, to feel it there. He likes to be held down, too, and Tony figures there’s some of the same neurons firing.  “Yeah,” he says, moving down to work on untying Steve’s ankles, “you love the stretch, don’t you?”

Steve seems to realize he can stretch out now, the rope no longer linking his ankles to his ass, and stretches them out with a luxuriant sigh.

“Yessir,” he says in a low, hazy murmur. “I know what you’re gonna say next.”

“Oh?” Tony says, smiling as he undoes the knots around Steve’s ankles, “what’s that?”

“Ask me if I’m hungry for it,” Steve slurs out lazily, stretching his arms above his head then letting them drop. “If my hole needs to be filled up that much, stretched out, how much I love cock.  An’ I do.”  He grins back at Tony over his shoulder.  “Love cock. ‘Specially yours. Inside me.  So you’re right.”

Tony chokes on his own breath, because Steve’s unstoppable in the sack, sexual and sexy and athletically enthusiastic down to his bones, but he usually doesn’t talk about it, can’t, really, without blushing like hell.  It takes him being this spaced out for him to talk like this, and every time it takes Tony by surprise to remember that Steve can talk like this, his idea of appropriate behavior and shyness about saying the words just usually keeps him from doing it without blushing up a storm. “Um, yeah,” he says, vaguely. “Something like that.”

That has Steve chuckling, and Tony makes a determined effort to pull his head back together; he can’t just leave it at that, dirty talk is his thing, and Steve expects better out of him.  “I can tell,” he says, “you stretch open so easy for something in your ass, just take it like you’re so eager for it, you just want it inside so much.  All I have to do is start rubbing at your pretty little hole and you get so wet, you just start leaking all over, don’t you?  You love it that much.”

That has Steve groaning, shivering and shuddering all over, and Tony has a good angle to see how his toes curl and his knees splay out against the bed like he wants to spread his legs, the hot blush working its way down his thighs.  That’s more like it.  “Yeah,” Steve pants, “yeah, I—I know, I know I do.  I do like it. Feels good.”

“Well, it’s gorgeous, honey,” Tony tells him, stroking his legs gently with his hands.  “Absolutely gorgeous.”  He slides his hands back down, pulls the ropes free.  “There you go,” he tells him, and pats his thigh with the same gentleness. “Feel free to stretch out.”

“Mmm,” Steve moans, shifts one arm back and grabs his ankle.  He gasps, groans out like it’s grinding out of his chest as it shifts the plug in him, but he tugs his leg up, over his back, easy as anything.

“You are such a show off,” Tony breaths, shaking his head at him, but he can’t deny it’s gorgeous, incredible, makes him breathless just to see him.

“Mm-hmm,” Steve agrees, sounding pleased, and drops his leg again, hooks his arm around the back of his knee and tugs it up to his chest, gasping again as it pulls on the plug deep inside him, then lets it drop again.

“Incredible,” Tony says, ruffling Steve’s hair, leans in to press a kiss to the back of his neck.  “You’re too much, you know that?”

“Mm-hmm,” Steve agrees, laughing. “Am I too much for you, Stark? Can you handle me?”

“On a good day,” Tony says, laughing too, “I can handle you, Rogers.”  But he’s not under any illusions there; he can handle Steve because Steve lets him. Steve does feel like too much to him sometimes, too much love, too much goodness, too much wonderful, everything he’s ever wanted.  But Tony’s learning to handle that, too.  And today is a good day, clearly, a very good day.

“Who’re you kidding, Stark,” Steve says softly, “you can handle me any day of the week.”

Tony has his doubts about that, but he can’t help the feelings that rise up inside of him, soft and warm and utterly overwhelming.  He takes a deep breath, has to swallow hard, his chest feeling tight, doubles over and presses his face to the back of Steve’s neck, gulping in air for a moment, leaves a soft kiss there, then another, another.  “I do my best, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

Steve reaches back, curves his fingers around Tony’s wrist and squeezes, tilting his head to the side to look up at him with one eye. “You do great,” he murmurs, face and gaze as soft and warm as his voice.  “Really great.  This was—” he swallows “—incredible.  So great, Tony.”

Tony swallows, leans down and touches their lips together softly.  “Good,” he murmurs. “I’m glad.”  Steve smiles at that, and Tony pulls away. “Okay,” he says, “let’s get this plug out of you.  Fun as it would be to leave it in the entire night—” Steve smiles a little more at that, and Tony has to swallow again, for an entirely different reason, heat building inside him, “—you’re going to be taking a bath, so it’s got to come out, sorry, champ.”

“A bath?” Steve mumbles.  “That’s nice, Tony, thank you.”

Tony smiles a little, pats Steve’s shoulder. “’Course, sweetie,” he tells him. “I’ve got to make sure you feel good, don’t I?”  He reaches down, takes the base of the plug in his hand, gets a firm grip.

Steve is smiling a little.  “I am feelin’ good,” he mumbles, “feeling so good already.”

“Well, then I’m doing a good job,” Tony mutters, “don’t want to fall down in the middle of it.”  He taps the plug lightly, and Steve jolts, all through his body, into his chest.  “Okay, I’m pulling this out now, babe,” he tells him, and Steve sucks in his breath, stills. Tony takes hold of it, twists it gently, rocking it inside Steve’s body, and he gasps, Tony can see it as Steve grips at the blankets with one hand.  He can feel the way he’s clinging to it inside, the way his muscles clutch at it needily, even with the impressive give in his body as Tony works it with his wrist. He’s not exactly being perfunctory here; he knows Steve would mourn a little if he just tugged the plug right out of him, and that’s not what he’s going for at all.  Instead he twists and teases it, rocking it up into Steve’s prostate just once before slowly beginning to tug it free. It’s a bit of a battle at first; Steve’s body wants to keep it inside, and Steve gasps, whimpers a little in his chest, spreading his legs apart as Tony wriggles it from side to side, works it out of him.  Steve’s slick pink hole stretches for it, opening up easily after a moment of clinging close, and Steve whimpers again, brings his knees up a bit, still splayed wide, as if to make it easier. “You feel that stretch, darling?” Tony murmurs to him, biting his own lip watching him.  “How’s that feeling?” He leaves it there, the plug at the widest point, for a moment, and Steve’s fingers fist in the blanket, roll onto their sides as he wraps the cloth around his fist and hisses into the bed.

“So full, Tony, so much,” Steve pants. “So much, Shellhead, pl-please.”

“You open up for it so well, champ, look at you,” Tony murmurs over his back, traces one finger around that taut, stretched skin. Steve whimpers. It’s actually true, through, Steve does, opens up easily, soft and giving, with hardly any pain, his muscles relaxed, buttery-soft and welcoming.  He has such ridiculous muscular control, and he likes anal stimulation, so much, which Tony figures combines to produce the incredible way Steve can just relax for it, let himself give way.  Steve groans again, tosses his head, but he doesn’t struggle, even as the thin skin of his hole trembles and flutters under Tony’s teasing finger. “Shh, there you go,” Tony tells him, and pulls the plug free just that little bit further to let Steve’s hole start to close again around the narrower slope of it, further down. There is a soft, wet noise; Steve’s still so slick, that was some quality lube.  Well, good, it sure costs enough, Tony pays for the best.

Steve moans, bucks just a little against the plug, and Tony lays one hand down gently against his ass, holding him still, and twirls it between his fingers.  Steve chokes, pounds his fist against the bed, but doesn’t move his ass, because he’s incredible, amazing, ridiculous.  “Shh, there’s a good boy,” Tony tells him, just to be a jerk, swirling the plug out a ways, then back in.  Steve’s so loose and open that his ass just eats it back up.  “You look good like this, you know,” Tony tells him, looking down at Steve’s trembling back, the sweat beading along his spine and at the base of his throat, the soft easy give of his body around the toy in Tony’s hand, the fuzzing tangle of his hair against the bed.

Steve drags his arm across and shoves his head down against it, panting.  “Good,” he grunts out, and Tony laughs.

“How do you feel?” he asks him. “Do you feel gorgeous? Debauched?  Open wide?  I can see right into you, you know.”  He rocks the plug back out a little more, presses it down so Steve gapes open just the teensiest bit and he can see his slick, pink channel.  Steve groans, shivers, and now he’s blushing, so hard his ass is turning red.

“Tony,” he groans, shuddering, and buries his face against his arms.

“Aww,” Tony teases, “don’t be embarrassed, I’ve been inside you, after all.  Besides, you’re so pretty inside.”  He rocks the plug out a little more, teases his finger in after it.  Steve is so easy and open inside, hot and soft and slack and quivering around him, and he lets his own breath out in a heavy sigh. Just wow.  Steve is whimpering, high and desperate, clenching and wriggling on that finger, gasping and gasping, and then Tony draws it out of him and slides the plug back into him, all the way home.  Steve gives a hoarse little shout and bucks his ass up, jerks it down, the firm muscles bouncing a little as he wobbles over the bed, clenching and clenching around the plug.  Tony gives him a moment, then puts his hand on one round, heated ass cheek, stroking and soothing him again.

“Tony,” Steve gasps, groaning.

“Shh,” Tony tells him, and eases the plug out slowly, squelching as it comes free from Steve’s ass again. He’s quicker this time, though he still swirls it around when Steve’s all loose and open around the tip, fucks it in and out of him a few times, then, when Steve has his head down and is just gasping and groaning, sets the plug aside.  Steve’s ass immediately clenches, not shut, it’s too slack for that, but clenching inward on nothing, fluttering around emptiness, and Steve groans, low-pitched and long and heavy.  Tony slides two fingers into that soft, slowly closing emptiness, feels Steve’s hole settle around him, soft flesh clinging gently to his fingers, barely gripping, soft and slick and loose as he strokes gently along inside him, and Steve whimpers, groans Tony’s name again, shoves his face down into the bed. “How’s that feel?” Tony asks him, barely a whisper, and Steve just groans.  “I bet it feels good to have something nice and warm in you after all this time,” Tony goes on, keeping his voice low and quiet.  “Something softer to clench down on than silicone and batteries.”

Steve sighs, moans, then says, barely audible, “Yes, Tony, s’good.  Thanks for—for fillin’ me up.”

God.  God.  That lands heavy in Tony’s stomach with a swooping wash of heat.  Steve is ridiculous, Tony still doesn’t know how he’s going to survive him.  He lets out a shuddering breath at that, strokes his fingers inside of Steve gently, so gently, and swallows, manages to say, “Sure thing, sweet cheeks,” in that same low tone of voice.

He fucks Steve with his fingers, so soft and slow and gentle, for a few moments, until Steve is just whimpering, grabbing the blankets with both hands, his head tucked down into the bed between them, face mashed into the blankets as he makes those desperate, overstimulated noises, then pulls them out again.  “Sorry for leaving you empty, baby,” he whispers as Steve’s abused hole aches and flutters around nothing, “but it’s time to get you cleaned up.”

“Mmm,” Steve murmurs slackly against the blanket, and he can barely sit up when Tony goes to coax him upwards after tugging his socks off; Tony has to wrap his arm around his shoulders and lever him up. Steve slumps onto his shoulder, nuzzles in, buries his face in Tony’s neck and takes long, shuddering inhales of him, his mouth open and soft against Tony’s throat and nose buried behind his ear where Tony swipes a dab of his cologne in the morning.

“What, you like the Tony Stark trademarked fragrance?” Tony mutters fondly, getting his arm more solidly around Steve’s waist.

“Smells like you,” Steve mumbles into his throat. “So mmmm.  Yeah.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Tony says, “that was the idea.” Steve is full-body snuggling with him now, worming his way into his side with slow, languid, lazy wriggles that shift his whole body, brings up one knee and just leans and in another minute he’s going to be full into Tony’s lap. “Down, boy,” Tony laughs, much as he’s loath to do anything to stop that warm, shivery wet mouth over his throat. Steve moans and bites at his throat, gently, but lets himself slump back down, follows Tony’s lead as he coaxes him up, onto legs so wobbly Tony thinks he should get some kind of medal for doing that to the super-soldier in record time.  It takes a bit, but he gets Steve’s wandering, unsteady legs into the bathroom, just in time to shut off the water before it gets to a point where it’ll overflow the second they get into it.  Thank goodness the bathtub is massive, or it’d have been overflowing long before then. Steve blinks at the bath, at the setup of the bathroom.

“Oh, wow,” he says, blankly.

There are towels by the bath, a pillow secured where Steve can rest his head while soaking, a scented candle burning in the corner (Tony’s run a few discreet tests and he can reliably say that it’s Steve’s favorite for relaxing, a natural beeswax lavender), the lights dim.

“Bath,” Tony purrs in his ear. Steve sort of grunts, but he lets Tony lead him over and coax him down to slide into it.  He does it so easily, even with his legs all wobbly, that Tony is jealous again.  After a scene like that one with Tony himself on the bottom, Steve would probably have had to carry him.  Steve hisses, then sighs, his body going loose with the warmth from the bath, turning to rest his head on his arm as he melts into the side of the bath.  Tony kneels down, gets hold of his shoulders and nudges him to lean back so that his head rests on the pillow, brushing his hair back with his hands on either side of his face.

Steve peers up at him, eyes blown and lashes fluttering.  “Ya’gettin’ in with me, right?” he asks.

Tony smiles.  “Sure,” he tells him.  “Of course. Sure.  Just give me a second.”

“Don’t take too long,” Steve mumbles, smiling all dazed and spacey up at him, and it’s sloppily sweet across his lips, even as he reaches out and pats the side of Tony’s face, thumb painting wetly along his cheek.  “I’m waitin’.”

Tony feels his face soften and tighten, bends his head and presses a soft kiss into Steve’s palm.  “Bossy,” he murmurs, but hurries to shed his robe all the same, tugging it off back over his arms, and slide into the bath beside Steve. He curls his arms around him, working one under his head, forearm just beneath his neck where Steve’s head's resting on the pillow, and Steve turns his head blearily, smiles up at him, reaching up himself to rest one hand on Tony’s neck and tug. Tony hesitates, but lets himself slide down beside Steve, and then Steve is pressing his face into Tony’s shoulder again.

“Just want to feel you,” Steve sighs. “That was so, so … .”

“Good, I hope?” Tony asks wryly, stroking Steve’s side with one hand.

Steve grins against his neck. “R’ly really good,” he mumbles. “God.  Mmm.”

“I’m glad,” Tony tells him, quietly, and he is, he really, really is.  Steve deserves nothing but the best.  But he seems like he’s floating now, sweet and easy, and not too sore, or anything, and that’s good, too, that’s even better.  Tony skims his hand up, strokes it down Steve’s back. “I was going to clean you up,” he tells him, fondly, tracing soft little shapes down his back now.

“It can wait,” Steve breathes, and curves his arm a little further around Tony’s neck.  “Hold me first.  Want you here.”

It’s fighting dirty, but Tony lets him get away with it anyway.  “Bossy,” he says again, laughing, but he presses a kiss to Steve’s temple, soft and gentle, and settles in, dancing his fingertips along Steve’s spine.  “Sure doesn’t take long for that to resurface.”

“’s cause it’s my basic personality,” Steve slurs into his neck, grinning like an idiot, Tony can feel it.

He might have a point there, Tony admits, laughing, but he can’t let that one just go.  “Oh?” he asks.  “So you’re not my sweet, cock-hungry boy who can’t get enough of doing what he’s told?” He slides his hand down, down under the water, and now he’s not fighting fair, but he slips two fingers back into Steve’s soft, slack hole, crooking them up and in. “You don’t want to be so good for me?  You begged me, Steve.”

Steve jerks, groans, bends his head back and just trembles, all over, quivering.  “Jesus, Jesus, Tony,” he moans, “that’s fighting dirty.”

“Yes,” Tony says, smirking, amused at how Steve’s echoing his earlier thoughts.  “It is.” He pulls his fingers out of him, he doesn’t want to stimulate, not really, just to tease him, remind him.

Steve is squirming, laughing, smiling up at him. “That’s true, too,” he says after a moment, gazing up at Tony so soft and warm.  He leans up, slides his wet, warm hand along Tony’s neck, and fastens their lips together.  Steve kisses him with enough force that Tony ends up falling back against the side of the bath, mouth hot on his, and Tony arches up into it, has one hand in Steve’s hair before he knows what he’s doing, the other going around his back and pulling him in close. When he pulls away from Steve’s mouth, Steve’s eyes are closed and they’re both gasping. Tony reaches up, pushes Steve’s hair back off his face, presses a soft, chaste kiss into his lips. Steve’s eyes open, and he smiles at him.

“I guess it is true,” Tony says, and Steve’s smile widens.

“I’m deep,” he says, and Tony has to grin, even though it’s true, it’s true, and damn if Tony isn’t in all the way over his head with him.

“So you are,” he tells him.

“Layers,” Steve insists, slurring the word out.

“And lots of ‘em,” Tony agrees, brushing hair back out of Steve’s face with his wet hands.  Steve nuzzles into his palm, leaves a soft little kiss there that makes Tony tingle with warmth all over.  He runs his hands back to the back of Steve’s neck, smoothes his palms down along it. “Listen, sugar cookie, are you sore at all?”

“Nah,” Steve says, sounding supremely unconcerned. He kisses down over the heel of Tony’s palm, down over his pulse, lips lingering there, and Tony sucks in his breath, feeling dizzy, from the heat of the bath, the sweet dizzy tingling sensation of Steve’s kisses as it spreads through him.

“Your arms?” Tony asks, and Steve shakes his head. “Legs?  Back?”  Steve shakes his head some more.  “How’s your ass feel?”

“Like I’m open for business,” Steve mutters against Tony’s wrist, grins and winks at him.  “But that’ll pass.”

Jesus Christ. Tony has to remind himself how to breathe. “Naughty,” he breathes out.

Steve grins.  “Y’could spank me,” he suggests, reaching out and curving one arm around Tony’s neck, and curling his fingers in the damp tips of his hair.

“I should, for that crack,” Tony tells him, though he has no intention of doing it.  He reaches up and rubs at Steve’s ass under the water, though, cupping it gently beneath his palm.  “Seriously, though, no pain? Nothing feels off at all?”

“Everything feels great,” Steve tells him, and arches his back, twists around to one side to stretch without letting go of Tony’s neck. “Really great.”

“Good,” Tony says, “good.”  He skims his hands over Steve’s back, kisses him again, getting an approving hum from Steve, and eventually coaxes Steve back to lie with his head on the pillow again, reaching for the soap. He starts with Steve’s fingers, kissing each one of them before he soaps them up, moves on to every part of him. Steve stares up at him, eventually lets his eyes slide closed, his head drooping against the pillow. Tony knows he’s not asleep, he responds to his commands, to spread his legs, to hike his knees up, to put them back down, to shift his arms, but it’s good to see him so relaxed, so utterly gone and peaceful with it, easy, soft. Steve isn’t often this soft like this, even with himself, Tony thinks.  He scrubs off all the come and sweat, carefully and thoroughly, washes Steve’s hair, next, lets him drape his arms around Tony and rest his head on his shoulder as he massages the shampoo in more thoroughly than he needs to, putting his hand over his eyes as he rinses it out so Steve doesn’t have to move.  They stay in the bath for a while, Tony making sure Steve drinks a bottle of water, feeding him the finger food he has laid out beside the bath.  Tony gets out before Steve does while Steve half-dozes in the bath, head tipped back on the pillow, and Tony makes sure the bed’s been heated up with the electric pads in the mattress, that the bedding’s changed and fresh and soft, the ambient temperature in the bedroom a little higher than average, all the toys cleaned and put away and everything neat, dressing himself in a t-shirt and pajama pants while he’s at it, before he heads back to get him and blow out the candle.

Steve is a chore to get out of the bath, heavy and drowsy, his hands wandering all over, half teasing and half just cuddly, and he whines whenever Tony moves away, but Tony finally gets him wrapped up in a towel with his hair mostly dry.  Steve wraps his arms around Tony’s waist and hugs him, and Tony laughs in surprise, but then finds himself wrapping his arms around him in return, hugging him back, one hand on the back of his neck, and he holds him close, tucking his face in against him.  They stay like that for a while, before Tony remembers himself, lets go and urges Steve to use the toilet, wash his hands, brush his teeth perfunctorily, then into the bedroom.  He gets him into a pair of boxers and sleep pants somehow, dabs a tiny bit of soothing ointment over the rope burn between Steve's legs, even though Steve makes it difficult, twisting his hips and rubbing up against his hand with a hum of pleasure, and then they fall into bed together, Tony pulling the blankets up around them, over Steve’s shoulders. Steve sighs like he’s in heaven at the warmth, leans over and presses his face against Tony’s side, under his arm.

Tony smiles down at him, reaches up and strokes a hand through Steve’s hair.  He’s always cuddly at times like these, physical, wanting to touch and be touched everywhere.  “Read to me,” Steve mumbles softly, mouth catching against Tony’s t-shirt as he looks up at him, and so Tony reaches for Steve’s book on the bedside table, thumbs through it until he reaches his bookmark, and starts at the top.