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Whatever You Ask

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“You sure you wanna do this?” Tony asked for the fourth time just since they’d closed the bedroom door behind them.  His hands felt very warm on Steve’s waist as he backed him up against the bed, slid them over his stomach to unbutton his pants and tug them down before he pushed Steve back onto the bed and swung his legs over Steve’s, straddling him.  “I mean, there’s still time for you to change your mind, roll me over and pound me into the mattress.  If you, y’know, you want to.”  His tone was easy, bright with sharp irreverence, but there was something like concern in his eyes, softer and warmer than his voice.

 

Steve still felt himself blush, all the same.  “Yes,” he said, as firmly as he could manage, and was glad his voice came out steady.  “I’m sure.”  But because Tony had asked four times—and more before that—he asked him, resting both hands on Tony’s waist, “Are you?”

 

Tony grinned and then winked at him.  “You do realize, big boy, just because I let you screw me six ways from Sunday doesn’t mean I don’t like to top just fine.”

 

“Oh,” Steve said, with a vague sense of guilt—had Tony wanted to be on top more, all this time?  But he banished it; Tony had made it perfectly clear that he’d enjoyed himself however they’d done it, second-guessing him any more wouldn’t be trusting his word.  “If you’re totally sure.”

 

“110 percent,” Tony told him.  “Now lie back, soldier, and let me show you a good time.”  He waggled his eyebrows at Steve ridiculously, his mouth slipping into a wicked, knowing smirk that made Steve’s neck start to heat up just looking at it.  He scooted back and let his shoulders sink down into the pillows Tony had dug out and piled at the end of the bed.  There were more than either of them usually liked to sleep on, but Tony had insisted, said it would make things more comfortable, however long Steve could hold one position without any trouble.  Tony gave him a significant look as he leaned over to reach for the things he’d put on the nightstand, and Steve shrugged out of his undershirt and set it aside.  It left him in nothing but his briefs.

 

“That’s more like it,” Tony said as he straightened up, giving Steve a slow, appreciative glance, the kind that always made him feel a little dizzy, both from the heat in Tony’s eyes, and from his own response.  Tony spun the cuffs he’d picked up lightly in one hand for a moment, and Steve swallowed, licked lips that were suddenly dry.  “You remember your safe word, right?” Tony asked as he settled back onto Steve’s legs.

 

Steve nodded wordlessly.

 

“Yeah?” Tony said.  “Still.  You say it back to me, okay?”

 

“Omaha,” Steve said.  “Look,” he continued, “are you sure those are going to hold me?”

 

“Am I sure?” Tony said.  “Please.  I made these; they’ll hold you, super-soldier.  That’s what you said you wanted, so that’s what you’re gonna get.”

 

“It is what I want,” Steve said, more quietly than he’d meant to; his voice came out hushed and a little husky.

 

“Roger that, Rogers,” Tony said.  “Believe me, gotcha covered.  Now.”  He settled himself more firmly over Steve’s legs, squared his shoulders.  “Hands above your head.”

 

The sudden steel and snap of command in his voice was amazing, and Steve responded to the order with a soldier’s instinctive obedience, lifting his hands above his head to lay them back over the pillows, crossing them at the wrists.

 

“Good,” Tony said, voice still firm, but his eyes had dilated a little, and there was a soft quirk at the corner of his mouth that, even apart from their near nakedness and the warm weight of Tony’s behind and legs over Steve’s bare thighs made this feel entirely different from orders in the field, made heat rise in Steve’s chest and tangle there, hot and pounding.  Tony shifted forward, and abruptly the warm curve of his rear was settling against the hot hard ache in Steve’s groin and he had to choke back a noise at the sudden friction, clenched his hands hard into fists to try and keep his hips from bucking up uncontrollably.  Tony squeezed his thighs against Steve’s sides and ground down into him, rocking so that Steve’s hardness pressed right up against the cleft of his buttocks, and said, “At ease there, soldier,” at the same time.

 

Steve wasn’t sure whether to groan or laugh, his sudden rush of desire leaving him lightheaded and gasping.  He let out a breathless huff of air, amazed at how Tony could get him this hot and bothered this quickly, and Tony’s hands skimmed up his chest to his arm, callused fingers and rough palms skimming over the skin of his forearm and bicep to fasten the cuff around his wrist, wide soft leather with something like steel inside it.  He’d barely even noticed what Tony had been leaning forward to do, he’d been so distracted by the flex of muscle over his groin, the tantalizing nearness of the warmth of Tony’s chest, the quick brushing touch of his hands.

 

Tony ducked his head and kissed him, all hot soft breath and clever tongue against his lips.  Steve opened his mouth for him, kissing him eagerly, barely feeling it as Tony tugged his wrists up, rearranging and adjusting them and the cuffs to his satisfaction before his quick fingers closed the other one around Steve’s wrist and he was bound firm to the headboard, which Tony had said he was at least 90 percent sure could withstand Steve tugging on it with his full strength.  Tony had added that if he broke the bed it was insured, anyhow.  Steve hadn’t been quite convinced by that, but it was hard to worry about it now, with Tony’s tongue hot and wonderful in his mouth and the way he was rubbing his rear in slow, grinding circles over Steve’s erection.

 

“Okay,” Tony said as he pulled back, panting a little, his mouth damp and swollen from the kiss and his eyes wide and dark in a way that made Steve want to reach for him, pull him close and kiss him again.  The knowledge that he couldn’t, that his hands were bound above his head however he pulled at them, sent a tingle of heat thrilling through him, curling in his belly.  “Give those a tug for me,” Tony said as he pulled his hands away from where they’d been curled loosely around Steve’s bound wrists.

 

Steve pulled obediently, hard enough that he could feel the strain in his shoulders.  The cuffs were tight against his wrists, holding him fast.  Stronger than steel, they had to be.  He caught his breath in his throat at the burst of adrenaline that shot through him, uneven and shuddery, when they didn’t give.

 

There was a gleam of triumph in Tony’s eyes, his grin satisfied.  “There you go,” he said.  “You good?”

 

Steve nodded wordlessly, not trusting his voice, and Tony’s eyes softened again.  He ran one hand up over Steve’s arm again.  “You sure?” he asked.

 

“Yeah,” Steve breathed.  He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, settled his shoulders more firmly against the bed, and opened them again.  “You don’t have to keep asking me, you know,” he said in a stronger voice.  “I’m fine.  I want this.”  And he did, he really, really did.  It was hard to express the whys and hows of it, he just knew that he trusted Tony, deeply, entirely, and he wanted him, like this, in charge of him in a way he’d never let anyone else be.  And at the same time it made him flush, it made something twist tight and heavy inside his chest, made his stomach knot up in a good way, just thinking about it, Tony in control of him.

 

Tony chewed on his bottom lip a second, then took a breath and just like that was in charge again.  “You’d better want this; I spent good hours of my life on those,” he said, leaned forward, and pressed their lips back together, fast and hard.  He rested his hands on Steve’s wrists, tracing the lines of the cuffs against his skin, then trailed them down over his arms to his shoulders, down and over his chest.  Steve was still gasping into his mouth when Tony bit down on his bottom lip, grinning up at Steve with it still between his teeth as he pulled, hard enough to hurt a little.  Steve gasped, and Tony let go, wrapped one arm around Steve’s neck, behind his head, and started kissing his way down his neck, wet and hot and messy enough to make Steve shiver and tilt his head back to stare at the ceiling.  His lower lip still felt hot.  He touched it with his tongue—it felt kiss-stung and swollen, almost bruised.  His breath caught down in his chest, and then Tony mouthed at the hollow of his throat in a way that made him let that breath out fast and hard and bit him there, and he let out a low noise that made him blush and bite the inside of his lip at himself.  He could feel Tony’s grin against his skin, just under his collarbone.  “What’s that?” he murmured, running his hand down over Steve’s chest.  “I can’t hear you.”  He thumbed over Steve’s nipple, running the rough pad of it in a circle over the sensitive skin.  Steve blew his breath out shakily.  

 

Tony just kept on going, kept talking.  “God, you’re so damn gorgeous,” he said.  “I can’t believe I get to have you like this, all spread out in front of me.  I could spend hours just looking at you, Steve, you know that, right?”  Steve flushed uncertainly and looked away, but Tony just grinned at him, framing his chest with his hands, fingers splaying out over his nipples in a way that made Steve squirm helplessly and flush even hotter.  “A little nipple play and you get so sensitive,” Tony said, and flicked the one he’d been teasing with his thumb.  He grinned, showing teeth.  “Don’t you?  Look at these.”  He ran his thumbs in an encircling swipe around each one, making Steve lock his jaw against his shuddering gasp.  “All pink and perky and hard for me already.”  He squeezed one nipple between his thumb and forefinger, just forcefully enough to make Steve pant and shiver.  He set his jaw and stared at the ceiling, trying to take deep breaths through his nose.  He could still feel his breath shuddering in the back of his throat, especially as Tony skimmed his hands down over his ribs and covered Steve’s nipple with his mouth.  Steve’s fists clenched involuntarily as he sucked in a heavy breath, and he could feel the bed creak with his sudden spasming jerk.  Tony chuckled, all hot breath against the wet skin under his mouth, beard and mustache scratching soft where they touched, and said, “Easy there,” even as he flicked that nipple with his tongue, swirling it teasingly over the skin.  “I know you like it,” Tony muttered, breath hot against tingling skin.  “You love this, don’t you?”  Steve bit at the inside of his lips, pressing them tight together as he tried not to let any sounds escape, feeling very warm all over as Tony’s thumbs brushed down, over the sensitive skin above his ribs, down lower, beneath them, and he switched his mouth to Steve’s other nipple, sucking hard before biting down lightly, then teasing back and forth with his tongue in a way that made quivering sparks of sensation shoot straight to Steve’s brain, it felt like, into his cock.  Tony drummed his fingers lightly over Steve’s stomach, brushed his thumb over his navel, and when Steve sucked in his breath harshly he said, voice teasing and light, “Don’t forget to breathe now.  Yeah, just like that, there, breathe.”

 

Steve took a breath, like Tony had told him to, and worried at the bruised place on his lip—it still felt hot and sensitive—running his tongue over it.  Tony laid off licking a trail of shivery wet warmth down the center of Steve’s chest and said, “Hey, you like that, huh?”

 

Steve nodded, not certain whether Tony had meant the rough kiss that had left his mouth bruised and tingling or Tony’s mouth on his chest.  Well, either way the answer was the same.

 

Tony’s lips came down on his a second later, rough and fiercely insistent, forcing his mouth open with eager heat.  Steve’s response was instantaneous, surprising him with its ferocity as he arched up, moaning into the kiss despite himself.  Tony’s fingers tangled in a handful of his hair, his arm still even, secure at the back of Steve’s neck as he kissed him hard and steady, taking control of his mouth, hard enough to bruise Steve’s lips with teeth and tongue.  Steve kissed back breathlessly until he didn’t even have the air to moan into Tony’s mouth any longer.  Tony had never kissed him quite like this, with this kind of rough, unrestrained animal passion, dizzying in its intensity.  It drove everything out of his head, left him panting and ragged.  He couldn’t think when Tony pulled away to press wet kisses down over his jaw, biting lightly at the underside of his chin before he moved back down to leave more bruising kisses, sucking and biting, down Steve’s neck.  Steve’s hands flexed helplessly above his head, wrists biting into the restraints before he remembered they were there, the bed shuddering under his inadvertent tugs at his wrists.  “Mmm,” Tony said, “yeah, go on,” and bit into his shoulder, sucking hard until Steve was sure there would be a bruised mark there, at least for a while, difficult as it was to bruise Steve’s skin for long.  Tony ran his thumb over the reddened skin he’d left, and Steve shuddered, breathing heavily like he’d been running for hours over rough terrain, at the feeling, at the look in Tony’s eyes.  His mouth felt hot, slick and swollen.  He would have touched his lips, wondering at the feeling, if he could; as it was he couldn’t do anything but run his tongue over the sensitized skin.

 

“God, that’s hot,” Tony said, “okay,” and kissed his cheek, sloppy and wet and with the edge of teeth against skin, but still a kiss on the cheek.  He curled his hand firmly at the back of Steve’s head and dropped another kiss on his lips, quick and hard, before he skimmed his other hand down around his neck, down his chest, shifting so he could press his lips to the skin just over Steve’s ribs.  Steve gasped, hauled in a hoarse breath, and then Tony was cupping one hand over his groin and pressing up, running his thumb teasingly, tantalizingly over the damp spot in his briefs, and Steve’s breath hitched on what was very nearly a whine.  “That’s good,” Tony said into Steve’s skin.  His beard tickled softly against Steve’s stomach and made him shudder.  “Go on, make those gorgeous noises for me, big guy.”  He pressed his hand harder, curled his fingers and rolled his palm in a way that had Steve choking out a moan and pressing his face into his arm, his shoulder, to muffle it desperately.

 

“Ahh, nuh-uh, not so fast there,” Tony said, and then both hands were on his face, turning it back, and he was looking up into Tony’s dark eyes and well kissed lips.  Tony kissed him again, fast again but sweeter this time and said, “I’m in charge here, and I say no hiding from me, hot stuff.  Okay?”  He trailed his hand down Steve’s neck, brushed it lightly against his shoulder and looked down, lashes shuddering down over his eyes, just for a moment.  “I want to hear you.”  He reached down and brought his hand up between Steve’s legs, curling the heel of it hard just where Steve wanted it most, and Steve moaned before he could stop himself, between two breaths, his mouth still helplessly open, and Tony said, “There, there you go, go on, like that, just like that.”

 

Steve bit his lip, knowing he had to be flushed bright red all over, but Tony reached up and just ran one thumb over Steve’s bottom lip, pulling it away from his teeth and making the bruised, sensitive flesh tingle, and Steve moaned again and closed his eyes because he couldn’t think, he couldn’t do anything, as Tony rolled his hand again, then slid his thumb just underneath Steve’s navel, along the skin there and down beneath the waistband of his briefs.  He teased for a moment longer, stroking his thumb along the sensitive skin just above Steve’s groin, before he finally tugged his briefs down over his thighs and off his legs.  Steve groaned, far back in his throat, pulling his legs up to make it easier for Tony; he would have pressed his wrist to his mouth to muffle himself, but he couldn’t.  The groan sounded incredibly loud to his own ears in the moment before Tony pushed his legs back down and closed his hand around his cock and Steve suddenly couldn’t hear anything through the rush of blood to his head.  He panted, gasping, for long moments before he stopped feeling hot and trembly and right on the edge just from Tony touching his cock.  He only just managed to get his breath back after a short, hard-fought struggle.

 

“Look at you.  You’ve even got a pretty cock, you know that, Steve?” Tony said, and Steve blew his breath out again unsteadily, feeling himself grow even warmer than before.  His cheeks felt red-hot, and he knew they were probably cherry-red with that heat.  He looked down uncertainly at his own length, flushed and hard and heavy between his legs where Tony had his hand wrapped around him, stroking it up slowly along the shaft.  Steve could see himself starting to drip precome down over Tony’s thumb when he rested it right under the head, slightly caressing in slow, gentle movements that made him shiver, the rest of Tony’s hand curled firm around him.  He bit at his lip again.  He didn’t think his cock looked that much different than anyone else’s.  Sure, maybe it was a little big (the flushed rosy tip of it an obscene contrast to Tony’s olive-skinned hand, God, why was he looking at that), but . . . it wasn’t anything special.

 

“Nope, don’t give me that look,” Tony said. “It’s pretty, no arguments, every inch of you is gorgeous, that’s just how it is.”  He grinned at Steve, and Steve squeezed his eyes shut at how hot he felt suddenly, just for a moment, so he could suck in a breath to steady himself, feeling his flush deepen all the way down his chest.  “Hey,” Tony said, “eyes on me,” and Steve opened them again to look up at him obediently, feeling dizzy, like the bed was about to drop out from under him.  Tony’s smile was teasing, promising more wickedness, but some reassuring at the same time, some softness hiding in the curves of it that made Steve’s chest expand and relax.  There was a moment where Tony just looked at him, and Steve couldn’t quite breathe properly—and then Tony took in a breath and looked away. 

 

“You’re big, too,” Tony went on, and Steve made a small noise of embarrassment before he could stop himself—Tony was really going to go on about his dick? Tony just kept talking, thumbing over the tip of Steve’s cock before giving him another loose, easy stroke of his hand, not tight enough to provide anything more than teasing shivers of feeling, but effectively chasing embarrassment to the back of Steve’s mind.  “You know I have trouble taking all of you,” Tony continued, “so big, I always start wondering how I fit all of you in last time, but then, hey, I can stretch, and boy do you make me stretch.  Human bodies are amazing things.”  He circled his thumb around the widest part of Steve’s cock as if measuring the girth, flexed his hand.  Steve’s breath stuttered in his throat, hitching on a whine.  “I’ve had all that inside me,” Tony said.  “Hard to believe, huh?”  He stroked his thumb down to the base of Steve’s cock.  “Fuck, I can practically feel it now, filling me up until I can’t take any more, until I’m all stretched out around your cock and I’m wondering how the rest of you is going to fit, and then you push a little more and slide in all the way and it’s almost, almost too much.  And when you’re in my mouth, too, there’s always that moment where I wonder if I’m gonna choke.”  His voice was low, husky and thick with heat, and that alone had Steve trembling, let alone what, the things, he was saying, the unrestrained pleasure in his voice when he talked about Steve being too big for him, about choking on his cock . . . Steve knew Tony liked it, his size and what it did to him, the stretch, the moment of overwhelming fullness when it was a little too much for him to take, and he was glad.  He’d been afraid, at first, that he would hurt Tony, that he would be put off, even alarmed by how big he was, but Tony seemed to lose no chance to remind him how sexy he found it.  “You looking forward to taking my cock?” Tony asked.  “Not as big, I know, believe me, but you’re always so tight and shivery inside, I know you’ll clench up all tight around me at first.  I’ll probably feel huge to you, huh, Steve?”

 

Steve made a strangled noise.  His head swam with sudden heat, the way his stomach clenched with hot want and desire shot sharply down to his groin.  It surprised him, shocked him even, how immediate and visceral his reaction was to those words, the images, the twisting feeling in his belly.  He knew it was true.  He was always a little tense just at first, and Tony would feel huge inside him, pushing into him, his cock would leave him full and aching.  He groaned, panting, and hardly heard it through the dizzy lust sweeping through him.

 

Tony’s voice was utterly breathless when he spoke again.  “Yeah?” he said.  “You know it’s true, don’t you?  I’ll feel gigantic, like you can’t take me at first, just like how I feel with you.  And you like that, you like that idea.”  Steve nodded, however, hot and embarrassed it made him feel.  Because it was true, he did, so much it was almost humiliating, and he should be honest with Tony.  “You like it when I fuck you, huh?” Tony said, still stroking, almost petting, Steve’s cock slowly with his palm and fingers.  “Tell me, Steve.  Tell me how much you like to be fucked.”

 

Steve gasped, almost shook his head, knowing his skin must have flooded with color, but Tony’s eyes caught and held his, Tony’s eyes somehow intense, locked on his, wide and dark with the pupils dilated, and there was something Steve couldn’t deny about that look in Tony’s eyes, dark and hot.  His mouth suddenly felt dry.  He licked his lips, trying to find his voice.

 

“I love it,” he whispered, then took a deep breath and tried to speak more loudly.  He didn’t want to cower away from this.  He did love having Tony inside him.  The very least he could do was say it.  And fuck was a, a crude word for it, but Steve was trying not to be embarrassed of the things he wanted, and he liked it when Tony was crude, when he . . . said things to him, they both knew that, it was only fair for him to reciprocate.  And he knew Tony was pushing him.  He didn’t want to shy away from that challenge, didn’t want to make Tony think he was ashamed, because he wasn’t, he just was not.  “I love it when you . . . when you fuck me, Tony.”  His cheeks were burning, and he felt very hot all over, but he’d gotten the word out.

 

Tony’s eyes fluttered, lashes shuddering over his cheeks, and he bit his lip, hard, looked down and swallowed.  His hips gave a quick jerk that looked involuntary, pressing the firmness of Tony’s erection against Steve’s leg, just for a moment, hot and startling.  Tony swallowed again, licking his lips.  “Holy fuck,” he said.  “That’s.  That’s, you know, I never thought—I got you to swear in bed, that’s . . . you know how sexy that is?  You talking dirty?  Damn, it’s not even fair.  You’re unbelievable.  Say it again?  Tell me all about how much you like to be fucked, Steve.”

 

Steve felt like his face was about to burst into flame, he was blushing so hard.  He swallowed, feeling his stomach roll over in embarrassment, but the humiliation was settling in his cock, too, making him ache, making him want, desperately, in a strange dark, hot, tangled way under Tony’s hand.  And he could see how much Tony liked it, the dilation of his eyes, huge and dark, the way he licked his lips, quick and breathless, his eyes fixed on Steve, eating him up, like he couldn’t get enough, the rapid rise and fall of his chest.  “I—I like it when you fuck me, Tony,” he managed.  “When I can feel that you’re all the way inside, inside me, and I’m aching a little bit around you, and I’ve gotta wait for you to decide whether it’s gonna be fast or slow.  I love that.”  He took a deep breath, cut himself off before he kept going, told Tony all about how it was just him, just him he wanted deep inside him like that, taking him apart.  Instead he blew out that breath and said, mildly, as lightly as he could, “And I do swear.”  He let that wait for a bit and added on a slight smile, “Gosh darn it.”

 

Tony stared at him for a moment, and then he snickered, there was no other word for it, snickered and then he was laughing out loud.  “Ahaha, oh my God,” he said between breathless snorts of laughter.  “Gosh darn it,’ my ass.  And people think you have no sense of humor.  You’re ridiculous.”  He leaned forward and rested his head against Steve’s chest so that his hair tickled against Steve’s skin, still chuckling.  If Steve had had his hands free, he would have wrapped his arms around Tony’s back, but as it was he just grinned and pressed his lips into Tony’s hair, trying to get a bit of his own breath back.

 

It took a second for Tony to stop laughing, but then he turned his head and trailed his lips over Steve’s chest again, mouthing hot against his skin, and Steve’s breath caught.  Tony grinned and bit at him, lightly, before he turned it into a kiss, traced his lips down over Steve’s pecs, just over his ribs.  He kept at it for a while, covering Steve’s chest with his mouth, tracing every last inch of him from collarbones to hips, until Steve’s skin felt overwhelmingly sensitized, and his hands were clenching involuntarily with Tony’s breaths.  Tony swiped his tongue over his navel, braced both hands on either side of Steve’s hips, and pushed himself up until he was kneeling over him again, running one hand back through his own hair and leaving it horribly messed up.  “Okay,” he said, and dropped his hand to Steve’s cock once again. 

 

Steve couldn’t have bitten back the sound he made, hoarse and startled, no matter how hard he tried.  “That’s good, sweetheart,” Tony said, “there you go.”  He circled his thumb around the head again, then skimmed it up and pressed it firm over the tip, sliding the callused pad of his thumb along the fluid gathering at the slit, spreading it over the head and making Steve suck in a harsh, gasping breath and shiver.  Tony was saying something, something like, “That’s it, go on, just like that, c’mon, Steve,” but it hardly made sense to Steve’s ears; all he could concentrate on was the feeling of Tony’s hand around his cock, all strong fingers and rough calluses as he stroked down, slow and hot.  His muscles flexed helplessly as he writhed against the bed, the cuffs tight around his wrists, and he arched up into the touch, gasping.

 

“Wow,” Tony said; Steve heard it faintly through the roaring in his ears, his own gasping breaths.  “Wow, okay.”  He took a deep breath, petted the head of Steve’s cock with his thumb a little more. “D’you want my mouth on you?” Tony asked, back to rubbing his thumb in the same pattern, back and forth over the tip of Steve’s cock, making it hard to focus on anything but how that felt, the light teasing a contrast to the earlier heat of Tony’s hand stroking down around him, the easy slide of Tony’s callused thumb through the slickness gathering there.

 

And oh, God.  Tony’s mouth.  Steve panted for breath, and it sounded like a whine even in his own ears.  The images that entered his mind at that— “If you,” he managed, and had to cast his eyes up to stare at the ceiling for a moment, just to get the strength to speak coherently.  “If you want.  Please.  Whatever . . . whatever you want, Tony.”

 

“Say yessir, I want your mouth on my cock, sir,” Tony said, voice low and provoking. 

 

Making him say it.  Steve swallowed, his arms jerking against the cuffs despite himself.  “Yessir,” he said, “I do.  Want your mouth on my cock.  Sir.  Please.”

 

“Well, if you insist,” Tony said, unrepentantly flippant.  He shifted again, the bed dipping beneath his weight as he moved, and then his tongue swiped over the tip of Steve’s cock, and Steve forgot how to think. 

 

Tony trailed his tongue down the side of it, wet and sloppy, and then his mouth settled over the head, tongue swirling, pressing in against the slit in a way that made Steve groan raggedly.  “That’s it,” Tony muttered, rubbing his thigh, “let me hear you,” before he took the head into his mouth again and sucked.  Steve must have made some sound, but all he could think about was the warmth and wet suction of Tony’s mouth, the heat building in his chest; he felt very hot, all over, and he strained to get one elbow under him, tugging against the cuffs, so he could push himself up enough to get a view of Tony braced on elbows and knees on top of him, one hand curled around Steve’s cock and dark head bent over him.  Tony looked up at him and winked without pulling away, Steve’s cock big in his mouth, and Steve wondered if it were actually possible to choke on the air in your own lungs for a brief moment.  He groaned and let himself slide helplessly back down against the pillows, tightening his fists in an attempt to not jerk up uncontrollably into that wet, giving heat.

 

Tony’s mouth was always amazing.  He gave head like he kissed, all open mouth and hot breath and sharply eager, clever tongue.  Before him, Steve could never have imagined that having someone else’s mouth on his cock could feel so different from his own hand, let alone anything like . . . like this.  Not that he’d imagined much, to be honest, but . . . Tony swirled his tongue around the head again and sucked and Steve forgot how to breathe entirely, let alone think, about anything other than the slick wonderful heat of Tony’s mouth.  He clenched his fists, trying not to buck up, but Tony just took him further in without a moment of hesitation.  Until—that was the back of his throat, had to be, and—Tony sucked in air through his nose and took him even further, until his lips were stretched wide and Steve could feel saliva slick between them, slipping down along his cock, feel the flutters at the base of Tony’s throat as it closed spasmodically around him.  Steve strained to lift his head again, enough to look down at Tony, saw his eyes slide closed, eyelashes thick and dark against his cheeks, face red with effort, hair falling into his eyes, mouth stretched tight and wet around Steve’s cock halfway down his throat.  Tony was straining, mouth and jaw stretched open wide, but there was still plenty of Steve’s cock outside his lips, Tony’s hand wrapped around the base to steady the length in his mouth, his expression one of determinedly focused ecstasy.  “Tony,” Steve managed to choke out, somehow.

 

Tony hummed in response, and the vibrations that went through Steve’s cock at that made him cry out, utterly unable to keep it back.  Tony made a satisfied noise and patted his hip, not lifting off even as his face turned deeper red and his throat shuddered around Steve.  If Steve had had his hands free, he would have reached for Tony, held him with his hands on either side of his face as he pulled him off, but as it was all he could do was try to stammer out what he was thinking, desperate and incoherent, trying his best to get the words out of his throat, because Tony obviously couldn’t breathe, and— Steve was going to, he couldn’t—Tony just felt so, so perfect and wet and hot and his throat tightened around Steve and Steve, Steve wasn't going to last, he wasn’t—

 

He must have groaned some of that out loud, or maybe Tony was just that good at reading how close he was, because he patted his hip again and pulled off to lay his head against Steve’s thigh and look up at him, sweat-damp hair soft against Steve’s leg.  His lips were swollen and glistening, and he looked at Steve from underneath his eyelashes, and Steve thought he might have whimpered out loud.  Tony grinned and turned his head to press a kiss to his thigh.  “You know how good you taste?” he said, his voice thick and a little hoarse.

 

Steve huffed out a breath, feeling his cheeks burning in a fiery line across his cheekbones.  “I don’t,” he whispered.

 

“Know, or taste good?  Cause course you do,” Tony said, and licked sweat carelessly off Steve’s skin, trailing his mouth up to his hipbone.  “You like how I taste coming down your throat, don’t you, hot stuff?”

 

Steve bit his lip and nodded, not meeting Tony’s eyes.  He couldn’t, not and respond to that.

 

“So.  You taste incredible, no arguments,” Tony said.  “Or I’ll feed it back to you later and we’ll see.”  His fingers traced a teasing pattern over Steve’s thigh.  “Would you like that?”

 

Steve’s throat caught on a strangled breath, but he couldn’t hide how his cock jerked, not spread out naked in front of Tony like this.

 

“Ahaha,” Tony said.  “You would, huh?  You’d like that?  Tasting how much you want me on your tongue, how badly you want what I’m going to do to you?”

 

“Mmm,” Steve said faintly.  “Ah—”  It was all he could manage, unintelligible noises; his lips felt fumbling and slow.

 

“Okay,” Tony said.  He pressed his lips to the pulse point in Steve’s neck, working them there, biting and sucking before he went back to laving with his tongue and lips, one hand resting at his hip, curled solidly against his skin.  Steve realized he was giving Steve time to back away from the edge of release, teasing him by not letting him fall over that edge, and couldn’t find it in himself to care.  He almost moved to put his arms around Tony again and was brought up short by the cuffs at his wrists once more, could do nothing but lie back and wait, shuddering beneath Tony’s mouth as he moved it down over his shoulder, back down to his chest.  “Fuck, you’re hot,” Tony said, mouth moving down over Steve’s pectorals.  “I know I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating.  All this gorgeous skin and muscle here in front of me.  I’m going to take my time with you, Steve.  I’m going to worship you, torture you, drag it out.  You’re gonna beg me for my cock in you.”

 

“Okay,” Steve whispered, moistening his lips.

 

“Yeah?” Tony said.  “Yeah, you bet you will.”  He skimmed his hands down Steve’s sides and followed them with his mouth.  “Don’t hold back, now.  Let me see what I’m doing to you, let me hear it.”  He flicked his tongue against a particularly sensitive place, and Steve couldn’t have stopped himself in any case, as on edge, as desperate as he was, his hips jerked up, a small cry leaving his lips.  Tony’s breath caught against his skin, one hand skimming around to settle flat against the small of Steve’s back as it arched under his hand.  “That’s it, that’s right,” he said.  “Go on, just like that.”

 

Steve wasn’t sure how long Tony kept on like that, licking down the center of his chest, over and between each rib, settling his mouth over his nipples and sucking and worrying with his teeth until Steve was making high, tight sounds that would have deeply embarrassed him if he weren’t half out of his head with want.  And Tony talked, in between, called him sweetheart, which always made him a little lightheaded anyway, told him hot he was, how warm he felt and how pink and flushed he was getting, how desperate for it he looked, how red and wet his nipples were, how hard he was, until Steve was hot in the face and squirming and wanted desperately to hide his face behind his arms and couldn’t, and even that just twisted him up with his desire more, somehow, until his cock was rock-hard and leaking onto his stomach.  Steve could feel it dripping, sliding, against his skin, even as Tony licked up the pre-come and kissed Steve, his lips and tongue wet and slick with it.  Steve opened his mouth for Tony’s determined tongue, tasting obediently, and Tony was right, it did taste good, primal and sexual and oddly intimate on Tony’s tongue.  He made a strangled noise when Tony pulled away, and Tony stroked his hands back through his hair, mussed and probably sticking up and fuzzy from where it was all spread out over the pillow from tossing his head, and kissed his lips with brief, sweet firmness.  It only lasted a moment before he licked over the bottom one with quick heat, but it made Steve’s chest tighten all the same.  Tony kissed his chin.  “Good?” he murmured, trailing his lips down his neck.  “Tastes good, doesn’t it?”

 

“Yes, sir,” Steve managed, breathless, “it does.”  Tony grinned against the skin of his collarbone.

 

“That’s my good boy,” he said, and that did something strange to Steve, made him feel warm and flushed in an entirely different way.  Tony trailed both hands down Steve’s sensitive chest, making him writhe and pant under his fingers, until he got to his thighs, curled his hands around them and stroked down, not touching Steve’s cock in the least.  Steve groaned, twitched, and Tony just skimmed his hands back up, over his hips and up his chest, thumbed over Steve’s nipples until he was shaking, wrists twisting helplessly in the cuffs just because he was desperate to move, and then kissed his way down Steve’s chest again, drawing his hands aimlessly down over Steve’s sides before he curved them carelessly around his thighs again, stroking his thumbs along the sensitive skin, casually possessive, spreading them slightly apart.  “You ready to beg me yet?” he asked against Steve’s chest.  “C’mon, I know what you want.  You still too shy to ask for it?”

 

“I did earlier,” Steve said helplessly, trying not to arch his hips up into Tony’s hands and failing miserably.  The bed rocked slightly under him as he tugged on his bound wrists.  “Please, Tony.”

 

“Nuh-uh,” Tony said.  “Say it again.  Beg me for it.”  He ran his thumbs back and forth over Steve’s skin, trailed one teasingly along the crease of his thigh.  “I want details, Steve.”

 

Steve whimpered aloud, then turned his face away, abruptly ashamed by the sound.  Tony skimmed his hand up his side, rubbing almost comfortingly, and reached up to turn his face back with his other hand.  “Hey,” he said.  “Didn’t I say no looking away?”

 

“You did,” Steve agreed.  “It’s.  I’m sorry.”  He took a deep breath, but kept his eyes stubbornly fastened on Tony, however his eyelids wanted to squeeze shut and stay that way.  “It’s just—”  He stopped, unable to continue, his voice dying in his throat.

 

“Aw, I know, I know,” Tony said, running the backs of his fingers along Steve’s cheek in an unexpectedly tender gesture that made his breath catch thick in his throat.  “But I’m in charge here, and I wanna see you beg for it.”

 

“I’m not good at.  At talking about stuff like this,” Steve said, and even he could hear that his voice sounded embarrassed and small.  “Or at . . . you know.  That.”

 

Tony just grinned a little.  “Yeah, I know, honey,” he said.  He stroked the rough pads of his fingers over Steve’s cheek, down over his neck, gentling him, soothing, easing the dizzy sense of vertigo back for a moment.  “I could just order you into it, you know.  Right?  In charge, remember.  And you’re a good soldier.  I know you’d obey me.”  He tapped his fingers against Steve’s lips.  “But I’ll take it easy on you.  For now.  Since I can already see how bad you want it.  Open up.”

 

Steve opened his mouth eagerly, sucking Tony’s fingers inside and curling his tongue around them.  Not only did it mean he didn’t have to talk, at least not yet, he liked the feeling of Tony’s fingers in his mouth.  Tony pressed down on his tongue, and Steve moaned at the sensation, leaning forward until he was sucking on Tony’s fingers up to the knuckle, laving them with his tongue.  His hips rose of their own accord to grind helplessly against Tony’s backside.

 

Tony’s other hand slid around the back of his head, firm and steadying and making Steve feel oddly protected, with Tony’s fingers big in his mouth and Tony’s weight and warmth splayed out all over him, over a body that was trembling and sensitive from all the attention.  “God, you’re good,” Tony said, and it didn’t feel like he was just trying to make Steve feel better or alleviate his insecurities, his voice was husky and thick again, raspy and shaking a little bit.  “You know how hot you are right now?  Well, probably not.  But you are; take my word for it.”  He reached his hand down and tapped the backs of his fingers against Steve’s thigh, pushing on it slightly.  “Legs apart,” he ordered, in that same steely, commanding voice, and Steve hurried to spread them, bringing his knees up and apart and spreading his ankles wide, planting his feet on the bed.  “So good,” Tony said, almost a little breathless, “so good for me, Steve,” and then his hand slipped out of Steve’s mouth.  Steve moaned at the loss, and then Tony’s hand was between Steve’s legs, fingers teasing along his balls, rolling them lightly, before knuckling into the sensitive skin behind them until Steve could hear himself give a guttural little gasp.  Tony teased him there just a moment longer before his damp fingers were trailing along Steve’s opening, circling with a light touch.  “You think you can take my fingers just like this?” he asked.  “No lube, just your own spit?”

 

Steve flushed, but nodded.  He knew he could.  He knew he was tense and tight, always, that it would hurt a little, but that was all right.  He was no stranger to pain, and it would fade quickly.  “It’ll burn,” Tony warned him, still circling his fingers teasingly, “you know how tight you can get.  You’ll clench up on me, all tight and hot around my fingers—”

 

Steve moaned, rolling his hips out of pure need.  “Please,” he gasped.  “Please, Tony, just—”

 

“Just what?” Tony asked, knowing, still pushing, that wickedness back in his voice.

 

“Just do it,” Steve gasped out.  “Please.  I’m begging you, just please, put your fingers in me, please.”

 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Tony said, and fluttered his eyelashes ridiculously at him.  “I thought you’d never ask.”  Steve wasn’t sure whether to scowl at him, smile at his over-the-top ridiculousness, or gasp at the slight pull of Tony’s calluses against his sensitive skin, and then Tony was pushing one finger into him firmly, and Steve gasped at the feeling, the stretch of it, the burn Tony had promised, swallowed a moan, canting his hips instinctively as his back arched again, his shoulders pressing back into the pillows.

 

“Ah-h,” he heard himself gasp out.  “Tony.”  Tony caught his breath and kissed his chest, his finger sliding further inside him.  It did burn, a tight stretching ache that made Steve rock down onto his hand desperately, made him feel hot and breathless and his cock throb.  Tony pushed into him until his hand was cupped against his rear, and Steve caught his breath, knowing that that finger was as far in him as it could go.  It still wasn’t enough, despite the burn of it, especially as Tony crooked his finger, searchingly, and found the place inside Steve that made him yelp out loud in pleasure.  The bed shook as he flinched, shuddering helplessly with how good it felt, the combination of pleasure and pain.  Steve loved Tony’s hands; they were a working man’s hands, hard and rough with calluses and scars, strong, and the way they felt inside him, finger curling and stroking— “Tony,” he moaned desperately.

 

Tony kissed his chest again.  “Yeah, you want more, sport?” he asked.  “That not enough for you?”

 

“Ahh,” Steve said inarticulately, “I, I, ahh.”  Tony’s finger was scraping, burning inside of him, and all he wanted was more, more stretch, more ache.  He turned his head against the pillows, the cloth cool against his hot cheek.

 

“You’re all clenched up around my finger,” Tony said, “you feel that?  You feel how tight you are?”  Steve could, he could feel Tony’s knuckles, the curve of his finger inside him, and he panted for air, ducked his head in a nod.  It felt huge, but then, with nothing but spit to slick it, the strength of Tony’s hand as he worked into him, in and out, made Steve writhe and moan as he pulled out of him even a bit, only to have him push in again, his body feeling every inch keenly.  “Always so tight for me,” Tony said breathlessly, curling, working his finger as Steve spread his legs and moaned for him.  After a moment Tony pulled his hand away entirely, and Steve made a broken sound that surprised him, arching upward to follow Tony’s hand with his body—and abruptly flushed hot at realizing what he was doing.  Tony just grinned.  “You want this pretty bad, huh?” he said.

 

Steve should have known he wouldn’t miss something like that.  He groaned, humiliated and very hot in the face.  Tony just kept talking.  “So, how bad do you want it?” Tony asked.  “Enough to take another finger dry?”  He tapped two fingers against Steve’s hole, circled them, crooked them inside, and Steve choked at the pressure, the hot stretching burn.  Tony chuckled and took them away and Steve was left panting, aching for the pressure to return.  He could hear the snicking pop as Tony opened something—lubricant?  “Do you want my cock in you?” Tony continued.  “Want me to fuck you so hard you’re knocking your head and shoulders back against that headboard, fold you up and pound into you like you’re half the size you are?”  Steve moaned at that and spread his legs wider in instinctive invitation, utterly helpless at those words, ready to beg, the words on his lips, please—but Tony was still talking.  “I bet I could have done it easy if I’d met you before the serum, huh?  I would have been bigger than you then, healthier, stronger, all that stuff.” 

 

Steve bit his lip and nodded, and oh, Lord, he was imagining it, Tony, muscular and movie-star handsome, and then him, scrawny and sickly and undersized—he would have been so small, so damn thin, in comparison, and—Tony grinned even wider, obviously aware of the effect that had had on him. 

 

“Probably could have picked you up while I did this,” he said, and Steve whimpered, a tight high sound that surprised him.  “Pushed you back against a wall and held you there while I worked you open on my hand.  It would’ve taken forever to get you ready for me, I bet—sure, I’m not as big in the packaging department as you are, but you’d have such skinny hips, small and bony under my fingers, be even tighter then you are now.”  Steve moaned at the images, licking his lips breathlessly as Tony continued.  “I would take so much time with you,” he said.  “Cover you with my body while I rocked into you, slow, ‘cause you couldn’t take it any faster without it hurting.  I’d take all the time in the world to make it good for you." Tony's voice was breathless, too, husky, low and thick. He swallowed and fell silent for a moment, but before Steve could do more than blink at him, he grinned and brushed slickened fingers against Steve's cock, running them down behind his balls.  "Course, I can draw this out now, if I want.  Do you just want me to finger-fuck you until you come?  I bet I could do it, you’re so sensitive, Steve.  I don’t even have to touch your cock to get you to moan for me.” A slick finger, wet and slippery with lubricant, circled around his hole again, before pushing teasingly, lightly, inside.  “God, look at that blush.  You’re all red, all over.  That embarrass you?  That I could get you to come just from fucking you with my fingers?  ‘Cause I know I could.”  Tony slipped his finger further inside, crooked it and twisted, before pulling it back out to trace the outside edge of his hole again.  “You want more than that, big guy?” Tony asked, almost tauntingly.   Steve gave a tight, moaning breath and nodded, finally pushed far enough into desperation to have Tony inside him again that it didn’t matter anymore, how humiliating it was, what he said, what he admitted or asked for.  It was all true, after all, and it was Tony, who would never use it against him, who only pushed Steve in ways he needed, wanted to be pushed, when they were like this.  “Yeah?” Tony asked, but he shoved his slick finger back in, deeper, pulled it out and pushed it in deeper each time, settling back into a rhythm.  “Yeah, you do.  You know you do.  Cause you love getting fucked, just like you said.  You’re just desperate to have me in there, inside you, aren’t you?  So desperate you’ll take anything.  That’s what you want, huh?  You don’t want to have a say at all, you just want me to do whatever I want to you, and you’ll take it.  You’ll take it and you’ll love it, every second of it. Won’t you?”

 

“Yes,” Steve panted, “yes, Tony, I’ll, I’ll take anything.  Anything you want to give me.  Just don’t stop.”  He took a deep, uneven breath, one that rasped on the inside of his throat and wavered in his lungs.  “Tony, please.”

 

“Jesus,” Tony said, voice thick and ragged for a moment.  He sucked in a breath that Steve could hear, and then slid another finger into him, spread them apart.  Steve could feel the stretch, the give of his own body, and moaned, bearing down against it.  Tony waggled his fingers, twisted them, opening Steve up, slow but steady, and Steve gasped for breath at each little twinge and shiver of pleasure that shot through him, Tony’s fingers careful and obviously purposeful until he felt all twisted up around every stroke and swipe of them inside him.  It was a slick, easy glide now with all the lube Tony was using, so different from the scraping aching stretch of earlier that that alone made Steve feel hot and dizzy, especially when Tony’s fingers dipped into the aching places inside of him that his finger earlier had left, curled there and rubbed.  He was shifting back and forth against Tony’s fingers before he even realized it.  Tony kept it slow, slow and teasing, barely nudging Steve’s prostate, long, unhurried strokes of his fingers and Steve could feel himself opening up even more, his body relaxing into the touch as he rocked against Tony’s hand, slipping easily into the rhythm of it.  Heat built and built in his stomach, in his cock, and he wanted more, so much more—Tony pulled his hand out again and Steve made a helpless sound in the back of his throat, before Tony slid three newly slicked fingers into him and Steve moaned, tipping his head back against the pillows, pressing his shoulders down as his back arched, pushing his ass down into them.  He expected Tony to move again, but he just left them there, slightly curled, scarred fingertips wet with the slick of lube just barely resting against that tender, sensitive spot deep inside him.

 

“Wh-what?” Steve managed after a moment, wanting and confused.  His chest was heaving.

 

“How close are you, d’you think, big boy?” Tony asked in a husky rasp of a voice.  Steve blinked, made an effort to breathe, to take stock of himself—and abruptly realized how close to the edge he really was, the tight heat twisting up in his cock.  He moaned, another wave of heat, of need, rising in him at the realization, making him squirm desperately with it, press himself down against Tony’s fingers.  Tony just caught his hip, leaned forward to leave a kiss on his chest, mouth up his chest to his neck.  “Real close, right?” he murmured.

 

“C’mon, Tony, please,” Steve gasped, and God, was that his voice, wrecked and thick with want, hoarse and slurred and heavy.  “You know I can—”

 

“Oh, I know,” Tony said, voice somehow both breathless with heat and smug at the same time.  “And believe me, I’ll be taking advantage of that later on.  But I thought I’d keep you on the edge for a while first, see how far I can push you before you just come—” he flexed his fingers inside Steve, teasingly, and Steve gasped, his body arching despite himself, throwing his head back as pleasure went careening through him “—apart.  Test your self-control a little.”

 

“But I—I want you,” Steve said, too far gone now to care how he sounded or what he was saying.

 

“Not about what you want right now, gorgeous,” Tony said, but his voice was soft, fond, and he laid a hand on Steve’s stomach, stroking gently, over his ribs and down across his abdomen.  “You’re just gonna lie there and take it.”  He scissored his fingers apart, fanned them out, and Steve gave a strangled yelp, his legs shuddering.  The pressure, the stretch, wasn’t enough for him to come, but it was still good.  He could feel himself stretching around Tony’s fingers, opening up for him even more.

 

“Ah,” he said helplessly, tilting his head back against the pillows.

 

“Yeah,” Tony said, breathless, “yeah.  You said it.”  He wiggled his fingers, stroked them just a little, slowly, against him inside.  “You’re so hot inside,” he said.  “So hot and smooth and tight, Steve, I can feel every little twitch against my fingers.”  Steve moaned, trembling, and Tony grinned, ducking his head so hair fell in his eyes.  “Just like that,” he said, rubbing his fingers gently along inside Steve.  “You’re loosening up, do you feel it?  Getting used to having me in there, aren’t you?  Careful, now, I don’t want you to come.  Not yet.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Steve moaned, and he could hear how trembling and breathy his voice was.  Tony sighed, loud and long, and kissed Steve’s chest again, mouth hot, warmly dragging over his skin.

 

“Good boy,” he breathed.  “Hold off just a little longer while I get you all ready for me.  I know you can do it.  Control yourself for me.”

 

Steve took a deep breath, head swimming, and nodded shortly, jerkily, curling his hands into tight fists above his head to try and steady himself.  He tried not to think about the desire hot and pounding, throbbing in his cock, but Tony’s fingers were insistent, curling gently inside him in ways that made him pant and little shivery jolts of heat go through him in waves.

 

“Though,” Tony continued after a moment, “it would be fun to do it just like this sometime, finger-fuck you into coming again and again, take you apart with just my fingers.  Wouldn’t it?  You’d like that, huh?”  Tony grinned at him.  “I wouldn’t even touch your cock, and you’d come anyway, I know you would, you’re so sensitive.  Just keep you here, pushing you over the edge, and you can get it up again so fast, wouldn’t take long at all.  You know, I could stay here for hours.  Wonder how many times you could come in one night, just from that.  You ever wonder that, Steve?”

 

He hadn’t, before, but he was now.  Steve dragged in a shaking breath. He bit the inside of his lip against a whimper at the thought, Tony twitched his fingers, and the whimper escaped.  Tony’s smile quirked at the side of his mouth.  “That’s it,” he said.  “Maybe I should try that now.  See how long it takes you to come just from this.  You’re already right there, after all.  Aren’t you?  That’s what you want, isn’t it?  That’s what you were begging for.  I’d just be giving you what you wanted.”

 

Steve shuddered.  Tony’s fingers were—they were amazing, but he wanted more, more pressure, more heat, just more, inside him, he wanted Tony, not just Tony’s hand, but Tony’s . . . Tony’s body, as much of him as he could take, as much as he could handle and then more.  Tony’s fingers felt big inside him, clever and curling right where he wanted them, but Steve still wanted—he wanted more than that.  “No,” he whispered.  “I—I want you to.”  He took a deep breath.  “I want your cock, Tony,” he whispered, then blushed at his own insistence.

 

Tony’s eyes went dark, and he caught his breath, licked his lips, his breath shuddering.  “Oh, yeah,” he said.  “I know you do.”  He spread his fingers around, rotated his wrist and shifted them, quick and clever, and Steve moaned again, shaking around Tony’s hand.

 

“Tony,” he whimpered, half ashamed at the admission of failure, “Tony, I, I’m going to—”

 

“Shh,” Tony soothed, stroking Steve’s side with one hand as he pulled his hand away.  His fingers slid out of Steve’s body with a wet sound, one that made him flush.  He immediately felt empty without Tony’s hand, his ass slick and hot and worked open, but let himself relax, trembling in relief, because he wanted to be good for Tony, to hold off on his climax until Tony told him it was all right for him to come, and the loss of stimulation would make that easier.  He took deep breaths and tried not to concentrate on how empty he felt, hollow and needing, needing to be filled up again, tried to steady his heartbeat and breathing.

 

“How do you feel, hot stuff?” Tony asked, his palms rubbing against Steve’s thighs once more, the touch soothing even as it made desperate desire surge even more hot and electric under Steve’s skin.

 

Steve took a hard, uneven breath.  “Empty,” he said, rawly, honestly.  He shifted his weight uncomfortably over his shoulders, want feeling like it was itching hot and needy under his skin.  Tony nodded and tilted his head as if waiting for more, rubbing his thumb against the sensitive inner skin of Steve’s leg.  Steve swallowed, and it was strangely difficult.  “Uh, slick and, and open, and hot and—ready.  So ready, Tony.  For you.  I—” and then he was pleading, need surging into him so suddenly and with such force it was shocking, wrenching, stole his breath from him and tightened the back of his throat until it ached.  “Tony,” he begged, “please, I need it, you, need you inside me, need you to fuck me, please—”

 

“Fuck,” Tony blurted, “Steve, that’s—okay, baby, okay, I’m right here.”  Shaking hands skimmed up Steve’s thighs, coaxing his legs up.  There was a sound as he fumbled with more lube, a groan, low and shaking, and then he was pressing into Steve, bigger than his fingers, and hot, so hot against him, one arm tight around Steve’s thigh as the other guided him in, a long moment of heat and pressure and stretching ache—and then he was inside him, the heat of him burning like a brand.  Steve arched his back, cried out.  Tony gave a long, slow, broken groan like he was the one being torn to pieces, pushing in slowly, opening Steve for him, branding his presence on Steve’s body, then pulled out until just the tip of him was inside Steve before he was sliding back in.  Steve couldn’t think, his mind was a blank wall of heat and pleasure and closeness, and he didn’t even realize he was struggling against the cuffs on his wrists until his shoulders started to ache and Tony’s hands came up to hold him down and he gasped, “Easy, there, easy,” even as he slid into Steve more fully, slow but inexorable, shifting in and out in slow, easy, inescapable strokes without stopping until he was finally, finally in Steve as far as he could go, balls pressed up against his ass.  Tony was shaking with it, the effort of going so slowly, and Steve wanted to hold him but he couldn’t, so he drew his legs up and linked them around Tony’s waist and back, cradling him between his thighs as best he could, even while doing his best to keep them apart to make it easier for Tony to thrust in and out of him.  And now he felt full, so full he ached, just like Tony had said, and he moaned at the feeling, the hot thickness inside him, Tony was inside him, and he felt warm with it, that at least he could hold him there, deep inside his body. 

 

And then Tony started to move, shallow, teasing thrusts at first that made Steve make short, sharp, desperate sounds, wanting more so badly.  “That’s good,” Tony panted, “that’s so good, Steve, yeah, keep making those hot little, ugh, those hot little noises for me.”  Steve gave a low moan, staring up at Tony through unfocused eyes, trying to plead for more with his gaze, unable to make his mouth form coherent words.

 

Tony curled both hands around Steve’s rear and squeezed, and Steve yelped, his voice breaking helplessly as he was squeezed down around Tony’s cock, before Tony moved his hands to Steve’s hips, nudged up against his thighs until Steve’s head and shoulders tilted back against the pillows, and began to fuck him in earnest, hard hot strokes that slammed into the core of him, made him shake all through and scrabble for a handhold that didn’t present itself to his bound hands.  He curled his hands into fists instead and let Tony’s thrusts slam him into the headboard, taking the impact willingly on his forearms, letting himself settle into it, Tony’s rhythm, Tony’s control, Tony’s heartbeat and scent and breathing, the feeling of Tony’s cock inside him, Tony, Tony, Tony.  He let go of the last of his own control, not even trying to hold on.  His own cock was slapping against his stomach and he barely even noticed, just hiked his legs up higher for Tony and let him pound into him, so hard it almost hurt, but in a good way.

 

Tony eased out of him until he was barely inside, cockhead just teasing at his entrance, and Steve whined, arched his back, trying to get that heavy heat inside him again, and Tony let his breath out unevenly and slid back in, one hand guiding him in nice and hard, sliding into Steve like he was meant to be there, like there was a place in Steve that was meant for him to fill.  “God,” he whispered, “you take that like a pro.  Must be a natural, cause I’m the only one who’s ever fucked you, isn’t that right?”

 

Steve nodded, vision blurring with each thrust, his breath hoarse and ragged in his throat.  “Yes,” he whispered.  “Y-yes, Tony.  Just—just—ah!—you.”

 

“I love that,” Tony whispered back, “knowing I’m the only one who’s ever had you like this.”  His thumb circled the taut skin where they were joined, thumbed at Steve’s slick entrance, hot and sensitized against the flesh of Tony’s own cock where he was flush against Steve’s hole, and Steve cried out, trembling, tried to bury his cry in the pillow instinctively and failed.  “Had this,” Tony continued, his voice shaking, lifting his other hand to curl it against Steve’s jaw, stroking his thumb against his cheek, the other skimming around over Steve’s ass before it moved back up to Steve’s hip, steadying him for the force of Tony’s thrusts.

 

“Just you,” Steve agreed, and he didn’t know how to say that this, this surrender, complete and desperate, was something he’d never even contemplated with anyone else, just letting himself be taken, overwhelmed, shaken to pieces and held afterwards.  And Tony was taking him, taking him wherever Tony wanted to go, wanted him to go.  Steve was powerless against him; like this even he couldn’t have done a thing to stop him, whatever Tony wanted to do.  He was at his mercy, and it could have been terrifying, awful, but it wasn’t, wasn’t frightening or unsettling or wrong, instead it was wonderful, it was perfect.  “Tony!” he gasped.

 

Tony hiked his legs up further, spreading them apart until he could lean forward and press a kiss to Steve’s lips, hot and trembling and damp, his breath coming hard and gasping, shaking between his lips.  Steve arched up to meet him, opened his mouth, kissing back, trying to coax Tony down toward him with just his lips and tongue as well as he knew how, and then Tony leaned down just enough to slide his tongue into his mouth and they were kissing deeply as Tony slammed into him, and it was perfect.  Steve closed his eyes and breathed in the kiss, twining his tongue with Tony’s, and just let himself take everything else as Tony gave it to him, the hard rhythm of his thrusts, the occasional hot bright shuddery burst of pleasure from his prostate, uneven, like Tony was trying to surprise him with it, which he probably was, Tony’s hot breath against his lips, his hands on his thigh and hip, holding Steve open for him—he was starting to moan with each thrust, into Tony’s mouth, and he didn’t even care.  He was surprised he hadn’t come yet, but Tony was good at this, at getting Steve exactly how he wanted him, whether that was right on the edge or coming fast and hard or lingering and slow, whatever it was.

 

“God, Steve,” Tony murmured eventually, against his lips, and he sounded wrecked, too, pulled apart.  He pressed their lips together in a firm, fervent kiss, deep and somehow pure, and Steve gasped into it, unable to catch his breath, as something twisted and tightened, fluttering hot in his chest.  Tony shifted closer, slowed his thrusts until he was just rocking into Steve with small, careful movements, slow and dragging, grinding into the very center of him where he was most sensitive, could feel Tony most intensely, so intensely he felt like he could feel him not just deep inside but in every inch of his body.  Both Tony’s hands came up to curl in Steve’s hair as he pulled away only to kiss him again, hot and deep and open-mouthed.  Steve was moaning uncontrollably into Tony’s mouth now, on every unbearably slow thrust, careful, deep and dragging inside him, and then Tony’s callused thumb brushed roughly over his cheek and he gave a small, tight, broken noise of his own into Steve’s mouth, his fingers curling tight and desperate against the nape of Steve’s neck, his breath rasping hard against Steve’s lips.  “Steve,” Tony said again, and pressed his lips raggedly against Steve’s cheek, “beautiful.  Steve,” and his voice was so broken and thick and there was a note in it, raw and open, the way he said Steve’s name, that—Steve surprised himself when that was what made the pleasure crest fast and hard in the back of his head, tighten up in his stomach, in his cock, until he was coming despite his best efforts, crying out, coming so hard his eyes were hot and he couldn’t—he felt like he was coming apart, like he was shattering into shards, bits and pieces of himself. Tony wrapped an arm around Steve’s shoulders, holding on, holding him close, as he shook and gasped for breath, coming so hard he couldn’t even see.  And Tony held him through it all, tight and reassuring, muttering nonsense strings of words in his ear, his other hand going to rest warm and heavy on Steve’s side, even if his hips were jerking up into Steve almost unconsciously, prolonging the shocks of pleasure shuddering through his body.

 

Finally the intense force of the pleasure ebbed and left him sprawled limp and shaking, trembly and destroyed underneath Tony’s warm weight.  He stared up at the ceiling and tried to catch his breath.  It took a long time, or what felt like a long time, lying flat beneath Tony’s sweaty warmth.  His muscles felt wrung out, and there was a bone-deep sweetness settling into him, into his chest.  Tony stroked his thumb over Steve’s cheek again, just under his eye, rubbed his knuckles along Steve’s skin just beneath his ear.  It took even longer than it had to catch his breath, but then what had just happened slammed into Steve with a jolt, and he flushed.  “S-sorry,” he finally managed, still breathless.

 

“Huh?” Tony said, sounding utterly blank.  His own voice was tight, unsteady.  He ran his hand over Steve’s shoulder, down over his chest.  “What the hell for?”

 

Steve blushed, hot all over his face and down his neck.  “You didn’t, uh, you didn’t give me permission to come,” he said, and he buried his face in Tony’s shoulder, embarrassed and still shaky, feeling torn open and raw with the pleasure that still had him gasping for breath, coming down with shivery little aftershocks.  He wanted to hold Tony more than ever, was shaking with it, but of course his hands were still bound above his head.  He felt very naked, all of a sudden, naked and exposed and incredibly vulnerable.  “Sorry.  Sir.”

 

“Oh,” Tony said, and chuckled a little, but not in a nasty way, in a way that settled warm into Steve’s chest.  “Oh.”  His hand came up and curled around the back of Steve’s head, stroking through his hair, and Steve sighed and sank into the touch, grateful for it.  “Don’t worry about that, that was understood, okay?  I knew you were getting close.  And that was . . . that was—yeah, you don’t have to apologize for that.”

 

“Still,” Steve whispered against Tony’s skin, damp with sweat against his lips and quivering a bit.  He opened his mouth to taste the salt-sweat of it and Tony groaned, pressed his cheek to Steve’s hair.  “Should have waited for your permission.”

 

“Well,” Tony said after a moment, still stroking his hair, running his fingers down the back of his neck, “I haven’t finished yet.  We’ll give it a minute and see what happens when I start with you again.  I’ll expect perfect obedience this time, soldier.”

 

Steve’s over-eager cock jerked at that, despite the soreness from overstimulation, and Tony grinned, ducked his head and shifted his shoulder back until he could dip down to kiss the corner of Steve’s mouth.  “God, that serum has got to be the best stuff on earth,” he said, soft and husky against Steve’s lips.  He kissed him lightly on the mouth and then pulled back.

 

“But,” Steve started, and his mouth felt stupid and slow and wet, “but what about you?  You didn’t—you haven’t, yet—have you?”

 

“Aww, hey, shh.  I’ll be fine,” Tony said, but he was shaking, all over, fine tremors shuddering under his skin, Steve could see them, and he was very flushed, his hair sweat damp and curling against his forehead and the back of his neck, over his ears.  His eyes were blown wide and glassy the way he got when he was close, and he groaned like a dying man at Steve’s every movement.  Steve could feel it, how tightly he was wound up, how he was trembling with it.

 

“You can,” he started, “I mean, I’ll be all right if you, I’ll probably—”

 

“Shh,” Tony said, reached out with one hand to curl it under Steve’s neck again.  He leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together, turned his head so his breath was hot against Steve’s cheek.  The movement shifted his cock inside of Steve, and Steve groaned, feeling the hot slide against oversensitive muscles.  Tony just moaned against the curve of Steve’s cheekbone, broken and unashamed.  He gasped for a moment, and then pressed a kiss there against the skin.  “I fuck you when I feel like it, big boy, that’s the deal,” he said, but his voice was warm and soft, and it was that softness in it that made Steve shiver and shake against him.

 

“Okay,” he said. “You’re.”  He had to stop, take a deep breath.  “You’re in charge, Tony.  Whatever you say.”

 

Tony smiled crookedly, Steve could feel the tug at one corner of Tony’s mouth against his skin as Tony gave a breathless, soundless little chuckle.  He kissed him on the cheek one more time.  “Damn right I am,” he said.  “I’m just gonna play with you a little.  You lie back and be good.”

 

“Play?” Steve asked, and his voice was faint, barely audible.  Tony grinned wickedly.

 

“Play,” he said, and braced himself so he could pull out of Steve.  Steve moaned as his sensitive muscles shuddered helplessly, clenching at the loss of Tony’s heat and the thick press of his cock inside him.  He felt empty again, and bit at his lips at the loss.  “Already missing me?” Tony asked as he settled back into the same position, nudging one of Steve’s knees up until he was spread open wide for Tony’s gaze.  Steve felt his face heat again at the intent look Tony was leveling between his legs, the way he’d just known exactly what he was feeling.  “I know,” Tony murmured, voice low and still so breathless it made Steve’s own breath shudder, “you’re feeling empty, huh?  I know, I know; that’s how I feel when you pull out of me and I’m sore and fucked-out and already desperate to have you in me again, even when it feels like I won’t be able to get it up again for a week.  You’re lucky, though—you don’t have that problem, huh?”  He pressed his fingers to Steve’s hole, and they sank in easily this time, without resistance, Steve’s body relaxed and ready to give beneath the pressure despite the shuddering ache of muscles sensitive in the wake of his orgasm.  His cock jerked again, and he gave a wavering gasp.  “All loose and open for me now,” Tony said, wiggling his fingers and then spreading them wide apart.  Steve moaned, his hips jerking helplessly.  “Not so tight anymore,” Tony said, sounding satisfied.  “You feel that?  You’re always so tight, always feels like I’m taking a virgin, but you don’t feel like that now, right now you’re all loose and wet and sloppy for me.  I did that; I did that to you.  Does that feel good?  Oh yeah.  Bet I could fit three in you easy now.”  He suited his actions to his words and Steve sighed, feeling his eyelashes flutter against his cheeks, ground down against it because it felt so good, the slight ache of overstimulation fading beneath Tony’s fingers deep in him without the painful stretch and ache he always had at first, because Tony was right, he was always tight.  His dick twitched as Tony pressed his fingers in firmly, further up and further in, and Steve’s body didn’t protest for once, just opened, loosely, to welcome him in, clinging to his fingers.  “Always ready for more,” Tony said, voice warmly, caressingly self-satisfied, and Steve blushed and bit his lips at the knowledge in it, because Tony knew better than anyone else what the super-soldier serum had done to his libido.  “Not just the perfect soldier,” Tony said, flexing his fingers until Steve tossed his head against the pillow, breathing going ragged, hands flexing against his restraints, “you could go again and again and again, couldn’t you?  I could just keep you here under me, and you’d always be ready for another round, better than a fuck-toy.  I could time you, see how long it takes you to get it up again.  Wonder if that’s an unintentional side-effect or if they did it on purpose, I know I would have—”

 

Tony,” Steve gasped out, mortified and breathless at the same time, and Tony laughed.

 

“Oh, I know,” he said, “casting aspersions on your precious Doctor Erskine’s honor, I’m a bad man, but if you could see how you look like this, you’d wonder, too.  You know?”  He shifted his fingers again, and Steve was surprised by the noise that came out of his own throat, shaking and breathless and high-pitched.  His cock was starting to come back to life, twitching between his legs, and he felt overheated, his mind blurred and thick with warmth and pleasure as Tony teased him back into breathless wanting, pressing his mouth to the top of his knee.  After a moment he pulled his fingers out of him, making Steve give a desperate, whining gasp as they left him empty again, and skimmed both hands up his sides.  Steve shivered at the touch of his fingers, still slick with lube from being inside him—God—as Tony scooted back, nudged Steve’s leg out wider with one palm flat on his thigh, and then dipped his head down.  For a moment Steve thought he was going to put his mouth on his cock again and braced himself for the shuddering ache of overstimulated pleasure, but even though Tony pressed his lips to Steve’s cock in a quick kiss that made him almost choke on his own breath, he kept moving downwards; his mouth skimmed over Steve’s balls, then settled over his—his asshole, and Tony couldn’t, he couldn’t really be going to, that was—Tony’s tongue swiped over the already hot, sensitive flesh, and something tightened in Steve’s stomach, something warm and twisting and not shamed, exactly, but close to it, shocked. 

 

Steve gasped, squirmed, would have pressed his hands to his face if he’d had his hands free, or maybe shoved Tony away, off him, out of sheer surprise—but then Tony’s tongue slid over him again, slow and dragging, and he cried out at the feeling despite himself, unfamiliar, shockingly filthy and intimate.  Tony sucked, flicked his tongue over quivering muscle, and Steve whimpered out loud, it felt so—intense, so different from Tony’s mouth on his cock, he could feel it inside as Tony sucked, and it was so different, a low, fluttering quiver in his stomach, a slow building heat in his cock rather than something blinding, fast and breathless.  Tony’s facial hair was soft and scratching against the skin on either side of his—it felt so incredibly intimate, so new and so . . . strange—Tony’s hand pressed on him just there, his thumb brushing over the sensitive skin before digging in, pulling him a little further open, and his tongue pushed inside him, and Tony’s— oh God, Tony’s tongue was inside him, down there.  He could hear himself panting, loud in his own ears.  Tony’s tongue pushed inside, curling against him, and Steve was still open and slick from the lube from earlier and—and surely that couldn’t taste good, but Tony didn’t seem to mind as he explored him with his tongue, curling and stroking, swirling it around and then plunging it deep before he pulled back and licked over the surface again, his tongue flat and firm over the sensitive skin of Steve’s opening.  His lips flicked over him, settled against his rim, and he sucked again.  There was the slightest scrape of his teeth against Steve’s skin, the rim of his—and Steve had never even imagined making a sound like the one that left his lips then.  He jerked under Tony, his legs shuddering and flinching uncontrollably, and Tony’s hands moved up to his hips to hold him down as he just pressed his mouth even closer, sucking and licking, working Steve open with his tongue.  It felt so wet, hot and wet and slick, Tony’s tongue, his mouth open and so vividly warm against Steve’s hole.  Tony sucked again and Steve groaned brokenly, closed his eyes.  He could feel the heat building again, already, slow and shuddering as his body opened for Tony in this strange, new way, wet and soft, clenching and fluttering in fits and starts, he could feel it, could feel himself falling backward, into the feeling, into the heat of it, his own dizziness, feeling himself sliding down into it even as his body gave way for Tony’s questing, stroking tongue.  He could feel his breathing deepen and sank into it gratefully as Tony’s tongue continued to smooth over him, flick inside, lick him even looser and more open.

 

The pleasure was still there, twisted up tight and hot inside of him, trembling under his skin and in his cock, when Tony pulled away, but Steve felt spun open, lightheaded and somehow peaceful, floating on it.  “You like that?” Tony murmured, and Steve moaned willingly in assent.  He could feel Tony move, shift up over him, and forced his eyes open.  They felt weighted, dragging, his eyelashes fluttering and heavy against his cheeks.  He could see Tony’s quick grin, delighted and oddly pleased, proud.  “Yeah, you did,” he said.  “You loved that, huh?  Yeah, you loved it, buttercup, every second of it, my mouth on your sweet little asshole.”  Steve flushed but didn’t look away, and Tony ran his thumb over his cheek.  Steve sighed and turned his face to follow Tony’s hand, butting his cheek up against his palm.  “You flush so hot, bright red; all over your cheeks and your neck,” Tony said, sounding incredibly fond, rubbing his thumb back and forth over the deepest part of the flush.  Steve’s lips parted, and he panted, still oddly dizzy, floating.  The only places he could feel himself with any clarity, more than a strange, floating, pleasure-filled glow, were the places Tony touched him, his thumb on his cheek hyper-real and vivid, solid against the deep, easy daze.  “You’re so deep now, aren’t you?” Tony said, still stroking his cheek with his thumb.  “You’re totally mine right now.  And I’m going to take care of you, I’m gonna take such good care of you.  I’ve got you.  Don’t worry about that; don’t worry about a thing, okay?”

 

Steve made a small sound in the back of his throat, and Tony patted his sides, his shoulders.  He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and reached for something on the end table again, still rubbing Steve’s cheek with the backs of his fingers, and Steve was helplessly, pathetically grateful that Tony hadn’t truly let go of him, hadn’t moved away.  Tony was leaning back in just a moment, sliding both his hands around Steve’s neck to clasp his fingers at the nape before he ducked his head to kiss him, and his mouth was damp and wet and tasted like mouthwash.  Steve opened his mouth for him, slow and almost languid, and Tony licked inside eagerly, sucked on his tongue, tilted Steve’s head back against his hands, his mouth demanding and hot, bright radiant heat against Steve’s lips and tongue and the inside of his mouth.  Steve sighed, opened his mouth wider, and Tony kept kissing him, biting at his lips, licking over them then back inside Steve’s mouth, wet and warm and sloppy, even as Tony trailed one hand down over Steve’s chest, thumbed at one nipple, quick and teasing, traced his navel, before he patted his hip, traced his hand down over his thigh, then up the inside of it before his fingers settled around Steve’s cock, and Steve surprised himself by the volume of the sound he made into Tony’s mouth, the friction unexpected and incredibly good after the lack of direct stimulation on his cock for so long.

 

“There you go, baby, that’s good,” Tony said against his lips, then pulled away, kissed the trembling column of his throat.  “Let me hear it, yeah?”  He dragged his hand up, and Steve moaned, tilted his hips up for Tony’s hand despite his still sensitive skin, panting.  “Oh, yeah,” Tony said, squeezed a little, and Steve gave a small gasping, breathy noise.  “That’s it.  That’s good, that’s so good, sweetheart, you’re so good.”  He stroked his hand down, a loose, easy stroke, and Steve sighed out another sound.  “You feel how wet you are for me?” Tony said, “all slick already from your own come, all messy and wrecked from how you came all over yourself from me inside you, you should see what you look like; you’re such a mess right now, aren’t you?”

 

Steve caught his breath on a tight sound, nodded his head slow and dizzy.

 

“You bet you are,” Tony said, “you love it, you love it when I mess you up, I could come all over you and you’d love that, huh?”

 

Steve moaned helplessly, his voice breaking in his throat like a boy’s.  “Yes,” he whispered.

 

“I could do that right now,” Tony said, letting go of Steve’s cock to take his own in hand, trace it up over Steve’s thigh, his stomach, up over his chest.  “Jerk off, come all over your face.  Would you open your mouth for me, honey, if I did that, try to catch my come in your mouth?”

 

Steve shuddered, could feel his cock twitch eagerly, throbbing with heat, moaned, his eyes slipping closed as desire twisted, desperate and hot, inside him.  His tongue came out involuntarily to slip across his lips.

 

“God, I bet you’d come just from that,” Tony breathed.  “Wouldn’t you?  Yeah, you would, you totally would.  You’re not so squeaky-clean, are you, Steve?  Not so innocent, not at all.  No, you’re dirty, filthy, just flat out indecent, and, God, don’t I love it.  Love it so much, you’re so goddamn sexy, so fucking hot.”

 

Steve caught his breath at that, tilted his head back, a low, pleased moan escaping his lips.  He could feel his cheeks flush.

 

“Shit, you’re hot,” Tony said, his hips jerking forward, rubbing his cock over Steve’s chest.  “Beautiful, you’re just beautiful.”  He braced his hands on Steve’s jaw, tilted his head until Steve was looking up at him, thumbing over the curve of it.  “Tell me how filthy you are, gorgeous, tell me how you’re a dirty, sexy boy for me.  You’re just desperate to be fucked good and hard, aren’t you?  C’mon, hot stuff, tell me all about it.”

 

“I’m, I’m dirty,” Steve said obediently, his breath hitching, “filthy, so, so eager for it, for—for you.  To feel you fuck me hard.”  He sighed, stretched his shoulders and arms against the cuffs, felt his cheeks flush even more deeply.  “Desperate for your cock in me.”  He twitched his hips hopefully, desperately, as desperate as he’d said he was, hoping Tony would be encouraged to do exactly that, that he’d said the right thing to get that from him.

 

“Ohh, fuck,” Tony breathed, almost whimpered, breathless and tight.  “You don’t—you don’t even know what you do to me when you talk like that.”  His thumbs swiped in circles over his skin.  “Jesus.”

 

“I’ve got some idea,” Steve mumbled, still rolling his hips helplessly up against nothing, and Tony snorted back a laugh.

 

“Yeah, you’re gonna have a better one in a second,” he said.  “You ready for this?  ‘Cause I’m going to fuck you again, Steve, good and hard.  Going to come inside you.  Just like you asked for.”

 

Heat flooded through Steve at that, and he tilted his head back, arching, baring his throat instinctively, his legs slipping even wider apart.  “Yes,” he moaned, “yes, Tony, please.”

 

“Gonna give you exactly what you want,” Tony muttered, reaching for the lube again, his hands shaking as he smeared it over his fingers and palm and slicked up his cock.

 

“It is exactly what I want,” Steve whispered.

 

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard,” Tony said, and it had the ring of a promise to it.  Steve bit his lip.

 

“Yes, sir,” he whispered.  “Please, sir, do it.  Just do it, please, I—please.”

 

Tony fumbled and dropped the tube of lube, then just left it.  He grabbed Steve’s legs under his knees, pulled them up, and just shoved into him, rough and hard, without preamble or finesse, tugging him forward enough that Steve felt it on his wrists.  Steve gasped, low and rough, heard it rasp, guttural, in his chest, and arched up into it, reveling in the feeling.  For a moment they didn’t speak, Tony groaning roughly on each thrust and Steve rocking back instinctively to meet him.  Tony’s hands left his thighs to clench tightly in the sheet, curling into fists, and his arms worked as he slowed his rough, hard thrusts with what looked like a tremendous effort.  His hair was really curling now where it hung over his forehead, wet with sweat, sliding down into his eyes, and Steve wondered what it was that made that so endearing, almost as endearing as the hot red flush high over Tony’s cheekbones, even as Tony turned his head to the side and gasped for breath.  “So,” he said, still rocking slowly into Steve, “should we shoot for three to one?”

 

“A-ah?” Steve managed, confusedly, after a long moment of his mind trying and failing to function properly over the slow, hot slide of Tony inside him.

 

“You come three times tonight to my one,” Tony said, and grinned crookedly.  “No promises, though, gorgeous, I’m close already, you’re just—so—”  He shook his head.  He was breathing hard.

 

“Whatever you want,” Steve breathed, gazing up at him.  Tony had been amazing so far.  Usually with Tony’s intensity and eager, enthusiastic passion in bed, he struggled not to come too fast once he got going, but he’d held off an incredibly long time now.  Steve was vaguely awed by his control.

 

“Right,” Tony gasped out.  He blinked, his eyelids fluttering.  “Right.”  He took a long, rough breath.  “You’re just going to lie there and take it.  Let me use you however I want.”

 

Steve nodded, sucking on his bottom lip to steady himself.  Tony groaned again.  “Oh, don’t do that, sweetheart,” he said.  “I’m not gonna—ugh, last—if you do that.”

 

“What should I do instead?” Steve murmured.  He brought one knee up, twined his leg with Tony’s to pull him even further into him, even closer.

 

“Oh, just lie there and take it, tiger,” Tony said, “just be good for me, let me fuck you hard and love every second of it.”

 

“I can do that,” Steve breathed, happy to please him, arched up into Tony’s next thrust.

 

“I know you can,” Tony said.  “Because you love this, just so—” he jerked his hips forward, hard, making Steve groan and jerk as sensation jolted through him “—so damn eager for it.”

 

Steve nodded, gave a low cry as Tony ground into him, up against his prostate, and rocked there, then drew back again, slowly, before he stilled, head still bowed, gasping.  Steve blinked and let himself just lie there and stare up at Tony, the curve of his neck and the line of his shoulders, the damp curl of his hair, the planes of his chest, the blue glow of the arc reactor, watched as Tony’s fingers curled in the sheets again.  “Yeah,” he whispered thickly.  “Do whatever you want to me, Tony.”

 

Tony kissed the top of his knee again.  “You know what I want to do to you,” he said, his voice shaking.

 

“What’s that?” Steve murmured.

 

“I think you’ve got the basic idea,” Tony said, with a brief flash of that clever smirk, “cut out that innocent act, soldier boy, ‘s way too late for it now,” and then he was moving again, and there was no way Steve could have responded anyway, his mind clouding over at the first shift of Tony’s cock inside him.  He moaned, and Tony said, “Yeah, that’s it, that’s—”  He reached around, fumbled over Steve’s stomach just a bit before his hand closed around Steve’s cock and Steve groaned, helpless against the friction, the pleasure in it.  Tony matched the rhythm of his hand to his thrusts, moving to brace his other hand against the bed, and Steve was surprised by how quickly that hot, tight desperation was building in him again, until he was squirming under Tony, twisting and grinding down onto him.  “Go on,” Tony said, and his voice was hoarse and rasping and sounded like, like sex and that alone would have been enough to get Steve’s cock hot and throbbing, even without the rest of it.  “Go on, that’s it, come for me, Steve, okay?”  His hand shifted, tightened, thumbing down the underside of his cock.  “Come for me.”

 

Tony rolled his hips, slid out of him and right back in with all his strength behind it and squeezed his hand on Steve’s cock, giving him something slick and hot to thrust up into the same time, and that was it, Steve was coming with a hoarse shout.  His head rolled back against the pillows and his eyes slid closed as pleasure spiked in him, slamming through him for a second time that night, sudden and intense.  Tony stroked him through it, prolonging the pleasure with his hand and with his thrusts deep inside of Steve, murmuring, “Good, good job, Steve, that’s so good, you’re so good for me, keep going, sweetheart, hey, there you go, so good.”  He brought his hand away just when it was getting to be too much but didn’t stop moving, his hips rolling, fucking into Steve in long, hard strokes that made him cry out and spasm through the sensations of his orgasm.  He could feel his back arch, his vision fuzzing out, and he couldn’t catch his breath, there was so much, too much, his body too hot, so touch-sensitive so that every movement, every thrust felt like it was tearing him into pieces and he couldn’t—

 

Steve came back to himself moments later—he thought it was moments later—to find Tony still moving inside him, slower now, one hand braced beside his head, damp hair hanging down around his face, slipping sweaty against Steve’s skin.  Steve could feel the warmth radiating off of his skin, the way he was shaking. “Jesus,” Tony said, and then mumbled something that sounded like math.  Tony often started speaking in numbers and equations when he was particularly far gone but still trying to talk.  But it was hard to focus on anything in particular, even the pride Steve felt whenever Tony stopped making sense in bed.  He let his eyes slide half-closed, vaguely wishing his hands were free again so that he could pet Tony’s hair, slide his hands through those sweat-damp strands.  “Mmph,” Tony said.  “Ugh.  Ugh, fuck.  You okay in there, Steve?”  He ran his other hand up along Steve’s heaving sides, stroked gently along the curve of his ribs with his thumb.

 

“I.  Ah,” Steve said.

 

Tony chuckled breathlessly, not lifting his head.  “Gonna take that as a yes, just so you know,” he said unsteadily, and then he was moving faster again, not giving Steve time to adjust, setting a slow, even pace, grinding into him and back out in a way that made Steve writhe, overstimulated muscles jumping and firing in what felt like every nerve.  It wasn’t just Steve who was overwhelmed and dizzy, his fingers clenching desperately in the cuffs, twisting his wrists helplessly out of pure instinct, it seemed, though—Tony was muttering a stream of numbers, half-audible through the blood buzzing in Steve’s ears, the overwhelming feeling shimmering through his every muscle and nerve and patch of skin.  He flung his knees open wide and just let Tony have him, take his time, follow his skin with his fingers and mutter nonsense and numbers over him, fuck him slow and even and relentless, until he was coming apart, let himself be buried in sensation and rocked into an almost complacent, overwhelmed acceptance.  Tony would probably come before he did, he was so close already, had been on the edge so long, and all Steve wanted to be was the vehicle for that, for Tony’s pleasure, that was all, he didn’t care about finishing again, just to have Tony come inside him, feel it—

 

And then Tony was shaking, shuddering all over.  He gave a short, sharp, broken little cry and Steve felt the hot surge of his come inside him, and then his arms buckled and he landed flat on Steve’s chest and stomach, almost but not quite knocking whatever breath he still had right out of him.  “Fuck,” he said again, buried his face in Steve’s shoulder, breathing hard.  He just lay there for a long time, breathing shaky and overwhelmed into Steve’s shoulder, his hips jerking a little, unconsciously sending little teasing shivers of pleasure through Steve’s body, until finally he stilled, his body going flat and limp.  He shook his head, beard dragging soft against Steve’s skin.  “Forty-two.  Divide by zero. Jesus Christ.”  He was trembling, every inch of him; Steve could follow the tremors down the naked line of his back with his eyes, feel the hot pulse of the arc reactor against his chest.

 

Steve nosed into Tony’s hair, pressed his lips against the upper curve of his ear, chuckling even as he gasped for breath himself.  “Tony, what?” he muttered.

 

Tony mumbled what Steve was pretty sure was a quadratic equation into his skin.

 

“Okay,” Steve said, laughing just a little despite the tight knot of hot desire still coiled up in his belly.  He let it go, not expecting anything to come of it, just enjoyed the slow burn of pleasure deep inside him, not enough to bring him to the edge again, but still good.

 

“You are so goddamn incredible,” Tony said after a moment, more clearly, and that made Steve flush red, pleased and flustered, and then Tony was shaking himself, straightening up enough to slide down Steve’s body, sliding carefully, wetly out of him.  Steve moaned, arching up to try to hang onto the sensation of Tony inside him as long as he could.  “You wanna come again, sweetheart?” Tony asked, his fingers resting on Steve’s hip, and Steve bit his lip and nodded, unsure—he’d already come twice, and he was overwhelmed, so overwhelmed, dizzy and oversensitive, but he didn’t want Tony to move away, not yet, and he was already missing him, inside, body clenching empty in on itself.  There was something—something that made him squirm, breathless, at the thought of Tony just leaving him there unsatisfied and wanting and hard after taking his own pleasure, and he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to come again or not.  Tony rubbed his thumb in a circle over Steve’s sweat-slick hip.  “Yeah?” he asked, and his voice was oddly gentle, undemanding, but the question still felt like too much, too much responsibility.

 

“Up to you?” Steve finally managed, unable to decide with his head still muzzy and thick and dazed.  Why was Tony still asking him things?  Anything Tony decided would be fine, one way or the other.

 

Tony grinned.  “That’s easy, hot stuff,” he said, “You know how much I like to see you come. I like seeing you hot and flushed and overwhelmed while you fall apart just for me.”  He moved down, put his mouth on Steve’s stomach, brushing his mouth over his navel, and then his mouth was on Steve’s cock again, the pleasure of it unlooked-for and startling, lips brushing over him almost like a kiss before he opened his mouth and closed it around Steve in earnest.  He kept it slow and easy, the suction gentle and dragging, coaxing another orgasm out of Steve with his lips and tongue and fingers, sliding them down and crooking two of them inside of him, working them until Steve’s come was smearing hot against his tongue and he sucked it down his throat without even a second of hesitation, mouthing at Steve’s cock a second longer, all sticky-slick and soft as he brought him down off the height.  Eventually he let Steve’s softening cock settle back between his legs with a few soft brushes of his fingers and then pushed himself up again and leaned forward, brushing a gentle kiss against Steve’s forehead while he reached for him.  For a second Steve had no idea what he was doing, just lay there floating pleasantly on the haze of sweetness from a third climax, his body finally tired, utterly spent for the moment at least, but then Tony’s fingers were fumbling, clumsy with pleasure and exhaustion, at his wrists. 

 

The cuffs loosened and then his arms were sliding down, suddenly disconcertingly, free.  Steve let them drop limply to the pillows, not even trying to hold them up.  The room seemed to slide around him, and he gasped as things seemed to slip, swimming in his vision, but then Tony was there, both hands on his wrists, holding him steady, and he could feel himself settle again, the room stop wavering to still around him.  Steve just sighed, enjoying the flaring ache in his shoulders and the muscles of his arms, already beginning to ease, but Tony hissed, rubbing the bruised-feeling skin around his wrists with his fingers, pulling them down toward his chest.  “Ouch,” Tony said on a wince.  “Didn’t mean to, to leave marks like that, big guy.”

 

“There are marks?” Steve asked, dazed and half-sleepy with satisfaction and pleasure.  He forced his eyes all the way open again.  “Can I see ‘em?”

 

Tony gave him an uncertain, surprised look, mouth crooked and eyes wary, but he picked up one of Steve’s wrists, rubbing hard against his shoulder with one hand, to massage out any aches, Steve figured, and dragged it down for him to see.  Sure enough, there was a ring of bruises clear against his flushed skin where he’d tugged against the cuffs, and Steve didn’t try to examine it too much, like he otherwise might have, when that made his tired cock jerk just a little.  Tony noticed, though, and raised his eyebrows, his mouth going a little more crooked and quirking up one side before he pressed his lips to those bruises, soft lips and softer, wetter tongue tracing over them, and Steve groaned and had to close his eyes.  Tony took both wrists in his hands, running his thumbs over the marks, then curled his fingers into Steve’s palms, wrapped them around his fingers, and squeezed.  “Any good, gorgeous?” he asked softly.

 

Steve nodded, keeping his eyes tightly shut.  He could feel the tremors start to start, first in his shoulders but quickly spreading all through him.  “Incredible,” he murmured.  “Tony, incredible.  Thank you.  Thank you so much.”

 

“Well, hey,” Tony said on a little, almost-embarrassed sounding laugh.  “My pleasure and all, God, Steve.”  His lips touched against Steve’s forehead again in a quick, barely-there kiss, and then he was sliding off the bed.  “Be right back,” he said.  Steve groaned and forced his eyes open to turn and try and follow him with his eyes, so he caught it as Tony stumbled badly, his legs wobbling, two steps away from the bed, and caught himself on the nightstand.

 

“Careful,” Steve said, on a chuckle even though he was a little worried Tony might fall over and hurt himself, reaching out toward him instinctively even as he pushed himself back up to his feet.

 

“I got it, I got it, I’m good,” Tony said, and grinned back at him, unashamed of his nakedness.  He pointed at Steve commandingly.  “You stay right there.”  He disappeared in the direction of the bathroom.  Steve sighed and closed his eyes again, smiling in a way he had a feeling was incredibly goofy and not trying to stop or hide it.

 

He thought he might have drifted off, only waking again when the bed dipped beneath Tony’s weight and he could feel the warmth radiating off his skin, smell the scent of him, metal and motor oil and expensive cologne, sweat and sex and soap, the warmth and familiar smell absurdly reassuring as Steve realized with a jolt that he was shivering inexplicably.  “It’s just me,” Tony murmured, a second before a warm cloth ran down over his stomach, then his thigh, and Tony leaned in to press a soft kiss to his neck, his shoulder as he cleaned him up, the stroke of the cloth over his skin almost more of a soothing, gentling touch than a way to wash off the sweat and sex and semen all over him.  “You should see how red and slick and open you are back here,” Tony said as he swiped the cloth very gently over his hole, making Steve shiver and squirm under the touch.  “You’re gonna be sore.”

 

“Yeah,” Steve breathed happily at the knowledge.  He could already feel it, the pleasant ache of overstrained muscles, could feel little twinges where Tony had been inside him whenever he moved, the imprint of his presence on Steve’s body. It wouldn't last, but that was all right.

 

“You like that?” Tony said, sounding a little surprised.  “Hmm, okay, you like that.  Gotcha.  That’s a thing.”  He coaxed Steve to roll over onto his stomach, running strong fingers over his back and shoulders, chasing tremors away beneath them, the damp touch of the cloth a welcome shiver of coolness against Steve’s overheated body.

 

By the time Tony was done, Steve wasn’t trembling anymore.  He let Tony move off him, rolled onto his side as he ran his own fingers over the bruises on his left wrist.  Tony got up for something and came back minus the rag but plus a glass of water, which he got Steve to drink, then set the glass on the nightstand, kissed him on the temple and slid into bed with him, pulling the blankets up around them.  He curled his hands around Steve’s wrists, just under the bruises, and kissed the backs of his knuckles on one hand, then the other, before he put both arms around Steve, one sliding around his shoulders and the other settling over his waist, the warm solidity of his body pressing up against Steve, steadying and real.  He smiled a little, crooked again, but affectionate.  “Your eyes are so dilated,” he said, “I can barely see the blue.  You’re pretty out of it, huh, handsome?”

 

“Huh?” Steve managed.  His head felt fuzzy.  His whole body was loose and relaxed and easy, and he felt wonderful, but his head was still dizzy, blank and slow.

 

Tony ran one hand through Steve’s hair, settled it at the back of his head.  “Nothing,” he said.  “That was amazing.  You were amazing.”

 

“Really?” Steve asked, suddenly insecure, tight little flutters of nerves seizing at the inside of his chest.

 

“Holy fuck, Steve,” Tony said, “are you kidding me?”  He gave a little flick of his fingers, gesturing as he talked with a minimum of movement.  “You’re ruining me for anyone else, for good, permanently, and that’s a fact, big guy.”

 

“Did you like it?” Steve asked, sleepy now, but needing to know.  He reached for Tony, looked up at him searchingly.

 

Oh yeah,” Tony said fervently, on a fast, hard rush of breath.  “Yeah, I liked it.”

 

Steve felt his lips curve up into a smile.  There was no way Tony had faked that hot, hard breath for his benefit.  “Good,” he mumbled, and curled his arms tighter around Tony, burying his face in his shoulder.  “You were great.”

 

“Yeah?” Tony asked, a question this time, his hand carding through Steve’s hair.  “I do okay?  It was enough like what you wanted?”

 

“You were perfect,” Steve breathed, closed his eyes and cuddled closer, curling himself into the solid curve of Tony’s smaller but still sturdily muscled body.

 

“Perfect, hey,” Tony said, a grin in his voice, “that’s high praise, coming from the height of human perfection himself.”

 

“Tony,” Steve said into his shoulder, half-embarrassed.

 

“We talked about the name thing, the thing where I can’t possibly figure out what you’re trying to say just from you saying my name, right?  That was a thing that actually happened?  Because I am not a Pokemon, okay, there is not an entire language made up of my name, and I am also not Charles Xavier, thank fucking god, so I have no idea what you mean, actually, when you say that—”

 

Tony,” Steve said, still against his shoulder, but now he was laughing, “it means be quiet, okay?”

 

“So you’re just too nice to say shut up, is that what it is?” Tony asked, but he was laughing a little now, too, his hands skimming fast, jumpy and uneven, over Steve’s skin.  Laughing was good, really good—it felt nice, especially with the endorphins going through Steve’s system that made everything feel really, really good, even better than this would have felt normally, which was pretty goshdarn good.  He curled his fingers around Tony’s warm, sweaty sides, which were quivering a little with his laughter, and held on to feel the little chuckling tremors in Tony’s chest against his hands.  “Because that is not going to serve you well in this relationship, I can tell you that right now, that is a skill you are going to need.”

 

“What’s a Pokemon?” Steve asked sleepily, resting his cheek against Tony’s chest and purposefully not addressing that particular comment.

 

“Monsters in your pocket,” Tony said, fingers tangling in his hair, and he was smirking and trying hard not to laugh again, Steve could hear it in his voice.

 

“Tony,” he said deliberately, tipping his head up to look at him.  “What the hell?”

 

And Tony cracked up, laughing so hard it was shaking his whole body, threw his head back against the pillows, his fingers tightening in Steve’s hair.  Steve grinned against his chest, enjoying Tony’s amusement, resting one hand on his chest and stomach to feel the laughter all through him.  It took a second before Tony sucked in air through his nose and blew it out, took another deep breath, and then finally said, “Japanese video game, card game franchise, you collect these cute little monster things called Pokemon, stands for pocket monsters.  Then you have them fight other people’s Pokemon.”

 

“Japan is a strange place,” Steve said, thinking about rope bondage porn and Hello Kitty, the giant robot animated TV shows that Tony wouldn’t admit he liked.

 

Tony snickered.  “You got that right,” he said.  “Anyway, Pokemon only say their own name, it’s a weird sort of, I don’t know, thing.”

 

“Okay, then,” Steve said agreeably, satisfied that he now knew enough to get the reference.  “Why?”

 

“Who the hell knows?” Tony asked, stroking the back of his neck.

 

“Okay,” Steve said on a chuckle.  He could tell that Tony was up, hyperactive and full of energy, he got like that, sometimes, after really good sex.  Steve was lucky, then, that Tony was still lying in bed, wrapped around him; a lot of the time when he got like this he’d disappear into his workshop, full of ideas and talking a mile a minute to JARVIS.  He closed his eyes, utterly content—this was his favorite part, just lying in bed with Tony, bodies spent and curled close together, mind moving pleasure-slow, and he never seemed to be able to revel in it for long enough.  Tony’s other hand came up, tracing shapes over Steve’s back, and he pulled his thoughts in order enough to say, “You really were amazing, Tony, you were so in control, I mean, I can’t believe how long you held off—”

 

And Tony blushed, smirking, but it was still a blush, barely visible against the olive warmth of his skin, but still present.  “Yeah, well,” he said.  “I get off and it’s over, or uh, usually, anyway, we can’t all be like you, Captain Super-Serum,” he nudged Steve with one knee, “so I needed to keep it together.  To, well, to give you what you wanted.”

 

Steve felt his face warm, his breath catch, with the tightening feeling heating up in his chest, and he pressed his face against Tony’s chest, just above the arc reactor.  “Thank you,” he murmured, because he knew it had to have been an agonizing strain for Tony—he was still shaking a little, with the release of tension, the strain of it all.  He ran his hands down over Tony’s chest, pressed a kiss to his skin and listened to, felt, Tony’s sigh.

 

“Again with the thanks?” Tony said.  He pushed himself up a little, let Steve’s head settle against his stomach.  “Seriously, Steve, quit it, you absolutely do not need to thank me for the most intense orgasm I’ve had in—well, in weeks, anyway, since that time that you, in the workshop—yeah, that was—that’s the thing about doing this with the peak of human perfection, I guess.  But uh, anyway.  Thanks are totally not necessary here; we should both be aware by now I’d do whatever the hell you wanted.  Just glad it worked for you.”

 

Steve just tightened his arms around Tony’s waist, kissed the warm, sweat-slick skin under his lips.  He settled one hand flat against the curve of Tony’s spine, slid it up over his back, and Tony sighed, his hand stilling on Steve’s shoulder.  “It worked for me,” Steve confirmed on a sighing breath of his own.  It was nice to be able to hold Tony again; it was the one drawback to being tied up, not being able to put his arms around him.

 

“Well, good,” Tony said, and tipped his head back against the headboard.  He grinned down at Steve, eyes alive and bright with amusement.  “You didn’t even break the bed.”

 

Steve flushed and hid an embarrassed laugh against Tony’s stomach.  Tony laughed and ruffled his hair, and Tony was holding him, not moving to pull away, both arms around his back, and he felt just amazing, and—Steve blew out his breath, closed his eyes, and just let himself enjoy it.  “There’s always next time,” he said, keeping his voice dry, and listened to Tony laugh, hiding his own grin against Tony’s skin.