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It's Not the Size of the Boat (It's the Motion of the Ocean)

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It was only because he was so tiny.

Tony couldn't tear his eyes away, even when others were speaking, even when he had to give his own inputs, even when he was being blatantly ignored by one the person whose attention he wanted.

He wanted to squeeze his cheeks and wrap him in hugs, and hide him away from the rest of the world because Steve Rogers before the serum was adorable.

Steve glared at him when he cooed. And yeah, maybe he was overdoing it just a little bit, but Thor had assured them it was temporary--most of Loki's spells were, especially now that he wasn't a supervillain anymore and he was pranking them more than anything. So now without that threat looming over them, Tony only wanted to take Steve back to their room and make sweet, sweet love to him.

"Are we done here?" Steve asked, annoyance clear in his voice. It was odd hearing his Captain America voice coming from such a small package, but Steve's mouth was twisted in the way it was when he was particularly pissed, so Tony kept his thoughts to himself for now.

Phil sighed. "You're benched for now, Captain." And that only made the twist in Steve's mouth deepen. "But yes. We're done." Steve was up off his seat and out of the door before any of them could even gather themselves to do so. Natasha jabbed Tony with her bony elbow. Hard.

"Jesus, woman!" Tony yelped and jumped away.

"Go," she ordered like he wasn't about to do just that. He rubbed at his ribs and grumbled all the way till he caught up with Steve who was stalking through the hallway filled with gawking SHIELD agents. Junior agents, really, because few things fazed the seniors anymore, though some of them, did seem pretty interested in the pre-serumed Captain America.

Tony slung an arm over Steve's shoulders, delighted that he didn't have to reach up awkwardly to do so. "Come on, babe," he wheedled. Steve ignored him and kept his pace even when Tony could hear his breaths quicken. It was an unusual sound to hear until Tony remembered, oh yeah. Asthma. He tugged Steve back. "Slow down, sweetheart; you're gonna give yourself an attack at this rate."

Steve stopped suddenly, frozen, and Tony's brows drew together in concern. He let out a breath before Tony could ask, then said, "I'd never imagined hearing those words again."

"Hey," Tony said softly, drawing a line down his jaw and tipping his chin up. He pressed a kiss to Steve's mouth. "It'll go away soon, then you'll be back to your big, Captainny self in no time, don’t worry." Steve let out another breath.

"Yeah," he answered, but didn't sound reassured. Tony cupped his jaw with both hands and kissed him, slow, gentle.

"I'll take care of you till then, darling," he promised. He was kind of looking forward to it, really, because this was novel and Steve was adorable as all hell.

Steve, however, only narrowed his eyes in annoyance. "Stop that," he snapped. He shrugged Tony’s hands off of him and glared up at his lover. "I am not an invalid, and I am not a child. Stop treating me like one."

Tony held his hands up in surrender. "Aww, baby, I'm not!"

He totally was.

Steve suddenly grabbed the front of his shirt and shoved Tony back into the nearest wall. Only surprise helped him do so, his diminished size and strength considering, but Tony didn't fight it when he regained his bearings. He allowed Steve to pull him down by the grip on his shirt, allowed Steve to crash their mouths together, allowed him to kiss him like he always did--hard and unforgiving--right there in the SHIELD hallway until Tony's knees were shaking.

He pinned Tony to the wall with his body, lack of bulk forgotten, plunged his tongue into Tony’s mouth, licked and sucked at the other’s tongue, and took and took and took, and Tony was breathless. Steve pulled back, eyes clouded and dark, and licked his lips.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought too,” he said, voice low and rough, not Captain America and not Steve Rogers, but Tony’s Steve. Then he pulled back and walked off, dangling Tony’s car keys in the air.

For a moment, Tony was stuck against the wall, his hands still pressed flat against it, and his breath caught somewhere between his throat and lungs. Then Steve looked over his shoulder and asked, “You comin’?” And Tony scrambled to his side.

Steve didn’t once pause, didn’t once acknowledge him, instead took steady, brisk strides that parted the crowd like a hot knife through butter. He was panting by the time they got to the Audi, but he glared at Tony when he started to ask what’s wrong. “Get in,” he snapped, and then took the driver’s seat.

Steve peeled out of the parking garage with a squeal of tires and took to the streets of New York with almost blatant disregard of traffic rules. He could barely see over the steering wheel and yet drove like a frenzied madman. Or like Natasha on a good day. Tony stared at him in disbelief.

It was fascinating.

This was the Steve Rogers who picked fights in back alleys, the Steve Rogers who lied to the government multiple times and got into the army illegally, the Steve Rogers without his serum-inflated righteousness. And don’t get him wrong, Tony loved apple-pie Cap beyond what reason could define, but this. This was the real Steve Rogers.

“So here’s what I’m thinking,” Steve said, and it was still weird for him to have such a deep, commanding voice when a slight shove could send him flying three feet back. “You think this is funny,” he said, eyes thankfully pinned to the road. “This amuses you.” He shifted gears and sped up, and Tony resisted clutching at the door handle when he narrowly missed sideswiping a delivery bike.

Tony was going to kill Natasha for teaching him how to drive like this.

“Steve--” Tony tried to say to slow him down, but Steve swung the car into a sharp turn, cutting him off. The tires squealed, and Tony flung his hands out to keep him in his seat. He quickly regretted not putting his seatbelt on, and when the car steadied enough, he immediately remedied that and vowed never to forget again. God, Steve was going to kill half of downtown Manhattan at this rate--them included. “Steve,” he tried again.

“You’re thinking that this is your chance; your time to shine. You get to pin me down and coddle me and show me what it’s like to be pushed to the edge of sanity and held there.” Steve shifted gears again and nearly ran a stoplight, except that the light switched to green at the last second. Tony thanked the eyes in the sky for looking out for them. Phil probably.

“No one’s chasing us, Steve,” he said, and hoped Steve couldn’t hear the terrified note in the back of his voice. Steve turned to him with a downright evil smile. “Eyes on the road!” Tony snapped, annoyed and nervous in equal parts.

Traffic loomed before them at the next stoplight, but Steve was still staring at him, and the car wasn’t slowing. Tony inched back into his seat. “Eyes on the road, Steve,” he said again. The terrified note creeped out into the open, but Steve still didn’t slow. There was a split second when he thought Steve meant to kill them, and the car in front was coming closer and closer, and he screamed, “EYES ON THE FUCKING ROAD, STEVE!”

He slapped a hand over his eyes as the car squealed to a jarring stop.

There was a second of silence where only Tony’s furiously beating heart made any sound. Then he peeked through his fingers to see Steve still grinning smugly at him and the car in front of them too damn close. He wanted to slap him.

Jesus, did Loki take away his common sense and respect for law and life, too?

“I know how to drive, Tony,” Steve said casually, as though he hadn’t been trying to kill them a moment ago. The light turned green, and he started the car back up slowly. “I know how to fight, I know how to fuck. There’s no need for you to change that just because I’m... well, this.” There was a sour twist to his mouth, but Tony was a little too preoccupied with making sure he wasn’t going to go berserk again. “I’m still the same man I was yesterday, not the boy I was seventy years ago.” They pulled into Stark tower garage smoothly a moment after that, and Tony scrambled out of the car before Steve could start it up again.

The car’s alarm was set remotely, but Steve was halfway to the private elevator by then, his hand locked tightly around Tony’s wrist, pulling him along.

It was the same firm grip, the same insistent pull, but a completely different hand yanking him along, and Tony wondered if this was a completely different man as well. And then Steve’s mouth was on his, and he melted.

Nope.

Same man, same kiss.

“You’re fucking insane,” Tony told him. Bending over to kiss Steve was weird. Was really weird, but if he pretended Steve was sitting on one of the stool in the workshop, it made it less weird.

Steve grinned. “You needed to understand that I’m still the same guy you know. The same skills--though, yeah, not the body to back them up--the same experiences, the same preferences.” His eyes flickered in sudden thought. Then he reached up and tangled his fingers into Tony’s hair, using that to gently tug Tony to his knees. “Better?” he asked. And it was, so Tony nodded. “See?” he pointed out. “You don’t want to take care me; you want me to take care of you.” The elevator dinged at their floor, and Steve tugged again at Tony’s hair. “Come on,” he said. “Bedroom.” Tony was on his feet and following along immediately.

Steve pulled his shirt off even before they entered the room, and Tony watched, fascinated, as each bone in his body came into clear view. Steve rolled his eyes and gestured to the door. “Shut the door,” he said while divesting himself of the rest of his clothes. When Tony turned back to him, he was standing naked with his arms crossed over his chest.

Tony could count the ribs at his side, could see the curve of his collarbone and the dip beneath his sternum. He half wanted to run his tongue over each bone and half wanted to shovel food into Steve’s mouth until they disappeared behind muscle. “Go on, then,” Steve prompted, dropping his arms to the side and watching as Tony walked over and fell to his knees in front of him.

His chest was closest to Tony’s mouth, so Tony ran his tongue up the length of his sternum. His hands found the curve of his hipbones and stroked them, tracing their shape and curling around them to his back. His spine was bony beneath his fingertips, and he counted each vertebra from top to bottom before following it down into the valley of his ass.

Steve’s hand was once again in his hair, pushing and pulling where he wanted Tony’s mouth to be. He let Tony trace his frame, kiss his joints, lick his skin, until they were both moaning, and then he tilted Tony’s head back. “Satisfied?” he asked. His expression was cool and collected, eyes half shut and clouded in desire.

“Not in the least,” Tony answered. His voice was wavering and heavy and felt thick in his throat, but Steve only smiled.

“Take off your clothes and get on the bed,” he ordered. Tony hastened to comply, not bothering to do so neatly either. He threw his clothes off and climbed onto his hands and knees, arching his back like he knew Steve liked. He jolted when Steve’s hand found his ass. It was cold and hard and small, so unlike the usual broad warmth, but Tony pushed into it, wanting all the same. “See?” Steve murmured, caressing. “Still the same.” The hand drew back, and Tony braced himself for what he knew was coming.

He cried out when the smack landed. It had none of the usual strength behind it, but it was sharp enough to sting, and Steve repeated it again and again with no pause in between. His other hand found Tony’s hair, and he pulled it back sharply, bending his head back as far as it would go. Tony was moaning stupid little sounds that would have mortified him if Steve’s hand hadn’t been so tight in his hair, if his slaps hadn’t been so sharp and rapid, if his cock hadn’t been so full and ready. Instead, he thrust his ass back to meet each smack until he was sore and ready to be fucked.

When Steve stopped and pulled away, Tony buried his face into the mattress.

“Still planning on fucking me?” he asked, voice muffled, when a good minute had gone by with no further action from Steve. “You haven’t passed out from exertion yet have you?” Another smack landed on his ass without warning and he yelped.

“You’re such a jerk,” Steve said just before a finger plunged into Tony’s hole.

He yelped again. “A little warning would be nice, jerk,” he shot back, but Steve’s finger was twisting in him, so it came out a little breathier than he wanted.

It took three of his fingers to stretch Tony as well as two would have done before, and it took four for Tony to be moaning and begging for his cock.

“Do you think I’d be able to fit my whole hand?” Steve asked almost casually as his thumb stroked the taut ring of flesh around his fingers. The words, the thought of it pulled a sharp hiccup from Tony.

“Oh, God. I don’t--I… God, Steve...” he whined, pushing back against Steve hand. He probably could; he was four fingers in already and his hand wasn’t that wide, but should he?

Steve didn’t give him the option to think about it as more lube dribbled down his crack and a thumb was pushing its way beside the fingers. Tony cried out, burying his face into the bed and meeting the slow thrust of Steve’s hand.

“Oh, yes. That’s perfect, sweetheart,” Steve murmured. His other hand stroked Tony’s flank reassuringly. “Look at you take it, look at you wanting this. I told you. I told you nothing should change. You still want this, want me to take you apart like I always have.” Tony whined, hips jerking as Steve’s knuckles pushed at his rim. “Maybe I’ll put my hand in you again when I’m back to my old self,” Steve mused. Tony’s shoulders shook with sobs he didn’t want anyone to hear. “You’d be so full, so loose, not even my cock would fill you up after.”

“Steve… Steve…” Tony begged and yelped when Steve’s knuckles pushed through.

“Shhh,” Steve murmured. He pressed a kiss to the small of Tony’s back as his hand slid all the way home and Tony’s hole closed around his wrist. It was depraved, the feeling of Steve’s hand twisting in him and fingers spreading and retracting. “You’re so tight, babe. Always so tight, but now even more so.” Steve’s words seemed more for himself than Tony, so the genius paid him no mind. And then he asked, “Think we can change that?” His fingers curled into a fist, and Tony wailed beneath him.

The fist tugged out of him, as far as it would easily go, halfway to Steve’s knuckles, and plunged back into Tony with the force of a punch. His scream was caught in his throat and he could only react with a choked breath. He could feel it sliding into him even further, twisting once, before it drew out again and repeated the motion. Again and again, he could feel Steve fucking him with his hand, and the imagery was enough to suspend all form of coherent thought. His body shuddered beneath Steve’s, his moans high and unintelligible. A muffled “ungh, ungh, ungh” spoken into the bedspread.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Steve said. “Love you like this. Love how you’d still submit to me even when I’m like this.” He shoved his fist in harder, grazing over Tony’s prostate, and Tony sobbed with unfilled need. “Love how much you want this. You’re such a slut for me; it’s gorgeous.” His free hand grabbed Tony’s hair and dragged it back, and Tony wanted to pull away, wanted to curl up in humiliation as tears fell out of his eyes and sobs escaped his mouth and he had nowhere to hide them. The angle shifted Steve’s aim, and on his next thrust, he punched straight into Tony’s prostate.

Tony screamed as he came all over the bed.

He vaguely felt the hand in his hair dropping him and he fell to the bed with nary a sound. The distinct sound of wet slaps filled the air, and then warm droplets rained down on his back and ass and legs accompanied by a harsh groan from Steve. And then Steve was kissing his shoulders his back, and whispering into his skin.

“I love you. I love you so much,” he said, and Tony would have said something, but Steve’s hand was still in him, and when it shifted, he could only gasp. Steve’s free hand stroked his back, spreading the already cooling come around and massaging it into his skin. He said nothing as he tugged his hand back, pulling at the ring of Tony’s ass. Tony hid his face back in the mattress and whimpered.

“Shhh,” Steve murmured as his fist uncurled and withdrew, slowly and steadily. Tony spread his knees farther apart then held perfectly still while Steve pulled out. Knuckles once more caught at the rim and dragged a tired moan out of him when they pulled through. From there, Tony could barely feel Steve’s fingers withdraw. He didn’t drop his hips just yet, though, because Steve grasped his cheeks to just look at his likely gaping hole.

“Steve,” he moaned, face burning from a blush from the exposure and scrutiny. He jerked when one finger traced the rim, clenching around it reflexively. Only then did Steve kiss his ass and move to sit up against the headboard.

Tony looked up to see Steve, still pre-serumed, watching him with a small smile on his face. He gestured Tony over, and the other went with all the energy his body could offer, which was really not much. He buried his face in Steve’s lap, right beside his cock so that he could nuzzle into it.

Steve chuckled and stroked his hair. “That’s it for today, sweetheart,” he said. “No supersoldier refractory period.” Tony made a face.

“I finally find a downside to this, and it has to be that?” His nose nuzzled into Steve’s spent cock again, and he licked at the droplets of come that clung to the tip.

“Really? Not the wild car ride through New York? You were screaming at me. I thought you were going to throw up.” Tony glared at him.

“Fuck you, I wasn’t,” he snapped, then pinched his thigh for emphasis. Steve yelped and swatted his hand away. “But it was kind of hot, seeing you all riled up like that and indulging your inner bad boy. Didn’t know you had it in you.” Steve blushed, but laughed.

“I’ve always had my inner bad boy in me. It was just easier to hold him back when I had muscles.”

“Pssh,” Tony answered, which really wasn’t a proper response. “I think you’ve earned three speeding tickets, by the way. Phil’s gonna get your license revoked after that.”

“Nah. I can get him to hold off on that,” Steve said, then his eyes turned big and innocent. “I’m so sorry, Phil. I was confused and all of this just kind of screwed with my muscle memory. I thought I was doing fine. I mean, I was only doing what Natasha taught me to.” Tony laughed so hard, his sides hurt and he was wheezing like an old man.

“Do not--I repeat--do NOT do that. Ever. Natasha’s going to rip your balls out, and I’m quite attached to them,” he said through wheezing breaths. Steve laughed at that. “Besides, I think Phil’s been immune to your whole I’m-innocent-Love-me shtick since he caught us in the third floor SHIELD bathroom that one time.”

“Oh yeah!” the soldier exclaimed. “I forgot about that.”

“You forgot?” Tony blinked in disbelief. “How in the world could you forget the feather boa, the cage, and three bottles of Thor’s mead?” Steve ducked his head.

“Uh, maybe that’s why I forgot?”

Tony frowned thoughtfully, and then his eyes lit up. “I’ve got a great idea!” He bolted upright with a speed and energy that he did not possess some three minutes earlier. He grabbed Steve’s wrist and yanked them both to their feet. “We’re gonna get you drunk!”

He easily and triumphantly dragged Steve out the bedroom, ignoring vehement protests of, “Tony, no!” and later, “Tony, pants!”