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Morning Glory

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Tony Stark has seen a lot of sexy things in his lifetime. It's practically in his job description: invent amazing things to make the world a better place, save the world, have a lot of sex. He should probably blush when he thinks about it, except he can barely remember how to blush. This is the sexiest thing he's ever seen, somehow, though -- Steve Rogers, in his bed, sprawled out on his front with his face mashed into a pillow, asleep. The already faded marks of Tony's own teeth on his neck and shoulders have something to do with that, admittedly.

(Steve, incidentally, does remember how to blush, and does. The blush even goes all the way down his body if Tony gets inventive enough. And Tony can be really inventive.)

He should probably leave Steve in peace. The guy doesn't sleep enough -- and that's coming from the poster boy for bad lifestyle choices, including not sleeping enough. Tony kinda gets it, because from Steve's hints he's worked out that there some level of awareness those long slow years in the ice. He's slept enough for several lifetimes. But the 21st century is a strain for him, all the bright lights and crazy fonts and loud noises screaming pay attention, pay attention to me, pay attention to me now. Not to mention Tony himself, who likes to believe he's more subtle about his neediness than those ads, but who doesn't have many illusions about it when it comes to Steve (and Pepper, and Bruce -- and JARVIS, as a matter of course).

"How long did he sleep?" he murmurs, not loud enough to wake Steve, and JARVIS responds at the same volume.

"Three hours and forty-two minutes, sir."

He really should let him sleep.

Instead, Tony leans over him, nuzzles into his hair. "Steve?"


"Roll over for me."

Steve makes another sleepy noise and does, sprawls out on his back. He's still naked, of course, and though the sheet is tangled round him it isn't really covering him now. He's glorious, perfect -- of course he is -- and Tony can't waste time looking when he can touch instead. He presses in close, presses up against Steve. He's already hard, of course he is, who could blame him, and Steve is halfway there from sleep, his body deliciously warm all along Tony's.

"Already?" Steve asks, but he's teasing. Tony doesn't bother with an answer, occupies himself with kissing Steve, bites at his lips and teases with his tongue, rubbing up against him. Steve makes a glorious little sound, then, one that gets under Tony's skin so bad. "What do you want?"

"Just this," Tony says, because this is good, Steve's cock thickening between them, perfect friction when he moves just so. And he's not patient enough for the rest of it, not right now. He'll want Steve inside him later -- he's still sore from last night, in the very best of ways -- but for now this is enough. He mouths at Steve's neck, tasting the sweat on his skin, humming contentment as Steve's big hands come up to touch him. He could make lists of the things he loves about Steve. Dozens of them. He could write books. They'd sell millions.

Steve makes this really interesting little noise right then, and Tony grins, rubs harder against him.

"Yeah? This doing it for you, too?"

"You know it is," Steve says, kissing him. He's still sleepy-lazy, and relaxed enough that his adoration shines through. Tony's not going to mention it, not when he thrives on it, not when he lives for it; if he said something, Steve might stop. So he just keeps moving against him, until that's not enough, until he's panting into Steve's shoulder. Before he can do anything about it, though, one of Steve's hands moves between them, wraps around both their cocks and holds them together, squeezes. Steve's mouth is against his ear, hot and moist, and that feeds the shudder running through him.

"Steve -- "

"Ssh," Steve says, lips finding Tony's jaw, his teeth finding just the right spot. Tony wants to move, but Steve keeps it slow, drags it out, so that when Tony comes, he comes hard, feels like it lasts forever. It's perfect, perfect, and even more perfect when Steve comes as well, and if Tony is whispering adoration of his own, Steve won't mention it.