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Inevitable, Really

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It was inevitable, really.

There are only so many lingering touches, shared looks (or eye fucking, as Ned phrased it), and soft, suggestive smiles a normal friendship can withstand before it becomes less normal and more ‘fuck each other on the kitchen table’.

The first time Peter met Steve, they were fighting in Germany and everything was a complicated, painful mess. But that was ages ago. The Rogues had since returned to the compound and been there for quite some time. Peter didn’t know the details of the conversations between Tony, Bucky, and Steve; and he didn’t really feel the need to. All he was sure of was that whatever went down had ended in an emotional Avengers reconciliation and some reprimanding by Thor and Dr. Banner. With the team restored and moved back, Peter finally got to formally meet them all, without the mask.

Which had maybe not been the very best idea.

Bucky had looked like he might pass out when Peter told them how old he was (“He was fifteen, Tony! Fifteen! What if I- oh my god, what if we’d hurt him? What the fuck, Stark?!”). Steve had simply stared him down, jaw slack, eyes wide and gleaming. Peter had blushed under the intensity of the gaze, diverting his attention to the way Tony was threatening to dye Bucky’s hair green if he said one more word (“Not my best idea, I’m well-fucking-aware, Barnes, get off my ass”). Since that day, Peter found himself locking eyes with Captain America more and more often, Steve always having been staring at the Peter already.

From the very start, it was clear they didn’t have a normal relationship.

The lasting gazes turned into short interactions and limited conversations that carried way too much sexual tension to be considered casual. Then those brief encounters evolved with excessive touching, Steve putting his hand on Peter’s shoulder or back or ruffling his hair at any opportunity, Peter finding some excuse to hold Steve’s arm or lean against him. When the touching and the staring and the tension became blatant flirting, Peter started to wonder just how far it would go. When the flirting advanced to shameless cuddling on movie night and evening walks where they didn’t even try to disguise their hand holding as something playful or innocent, he knew he was fucked.

After all the torturously slow build, it really was inevitable that Peter ended up in Steve’s room.

On Steve’s bed.

In Steve’s lap.

Making out.

Talk about escalation.

Peter’s thighs cage Steve’s, his hands fisting the older man’s shirt. Steve’s hands hold firm onto Peter’s waist, gentle but possessive.

The kiss had started out simple. Sweet, a soft brush of the lips, barely a few seconds. But once they started, they just couldn’t stop. Steve had pulled Peter in closer and Peter, feeling uncharacteristically brave, had nipped the soldier’s lower lip. He hadn’t expected Steve to all but growl the way he did and slip his tongue into Peter’s mouth.

Now Peter doesn’t know how long they’ve been kissing, only that his cheeks are definitely pink and he needs air. When they finally break away, Steve barely waits a second before his mouth finds Peter’s jaw. Peter tries [read: fails] to hold back a whimper. Steve smirks.

“So needy,” he breathes, and Peter can literally feel the smug smile against his neck. The comment makes him flush and he pulls back, his hands releasing Steve’s shirt to push against the man's chest.

“S-sorry,” he stutters out, cursing himself for how obviously disheveled he is. All they’ve done is make out and he’s practically withering on Steve’s lap. All inexperience and no intrigue. Get it together, Parker.

Peter doesn’t get far before Steve pulls him back by the waist until their stomachs are almost pressed together. If Peter hadn’t been leaning back so much he’d have a face full of Captain America and he drops his eyes, silently praying that Steve isn’t able to see how red he is in the dim light.

“No, baby, don’t apologize. You never have to be embarrassed, Peter. Especially not with me.” Steve reassures him with that ridiculously charming smile and, wow, Peter had no idea how much he needed to hear that. He’s about to try to find something along the lines of thanks to say when Steve’s fingers are curling around his chin and jaw, tipping his face up so they can kiss again. The kiss is short and when it’s over Steve leans forward to whisper in Peter’s ear.

“Besides, you’re even cuter when you need it so bad,” and, fuck, Peter loses his breath in his throat. Steve seems satisfied with the reaction, dropping a hand to grab Peter’s ass. The younger man makes the executive decision then that he has never been this turned on in his entire life.

Steve’s lips find his again and they take their time exploring each other’s mouths. The soldier keeps switching from gentle kissing and caressing to roughly claiming Peter and it’s making the smaller’s head spin. Eventually Peter can’t handle the fabric between them and grabs at the hem of Steve’s shirt, making some desperate sounding noise that he immediately regrets but hopes gets his point across.

Steve understands (of course he does, perfect bastard) and breaks the kiss to pull his shirt off. Peter would feel ashamed to stare the way he does, but they’d overtly checked each other out so many times (shirtless in the training center, casually at dinner) that it feels something like normal for his eyes to rake over Steve’s chest.

As soon as his shirt is tossed aside, Steve helps Peter out of his hoodie, letting it fall to the floor without a second thought. Peter doesn’t blush when Steve’s eyes find his bare torso. He does, however, let out an embarrassingly eager gasp when Cap’s hands trail up his sides, over his stomach and chest, mapping out the expanse of smooth, milky skin.

Peter lets his fingertips brush Steve’s chest, then presses his palms against it, feeling how firm and toned the man is. Slightly unsettling awareness of how very small he is compared to the soldier bubbles up, but he shoves it down.

It’s not difficult to lose himself in the moment when Steve’s head drops to suck hickeys onto Peter’s neck and shoulder. The younger’s hands wander to Steve’s hair as light kisses morph to nips. Without warning, Cap bites down hard, and Peter makes a choked off, high pitched whine sound.

Steve groans and abruptly lifts him up, turning and laying Peter down on the bed, holding himself over the boy. Peter yelps with the sudden transition, beat red, but doesn’t get a second to catch up before Steve kisses his nipple.

Oh fuck, oh god.

Peter’s hand flies up and he barely manages to muffle a moan. Steve looks up and shakes his head slightly, a small grin on his face as he ‘tsk’s.

“Oh no, sweetheart, no-no. I want to hear you.” He grabs Peter’s hand from his mouth, kisses it, and laces their fingers together, pinning Peter’s hand beside his head. Steve drops back down to Peter’s chest and licks. Peter chokes on his breath and keens, unable to hold back his whimpering.

With his other hand Steve caresses Peter’s stomach, loving the soft skin beneath his palm, venturing down to unbutton the boy’s jeans. Peter’s free hand tangles in Steve’s hair and he screws his eyes shut at the feeling of tongue and teeth on his sensitive nipples.

Steve pulls away to tug on Peter’s jeans. The younger catches on in a second and soon they’ve both shimmied out of their pants and tossed them aside. Steve drops his head again, once more positioned between Peter’s legs, kissing down his belly and taking the waistband of Peter’s boxers in his teeth. Peter watches with wide eyes and blown pupils as Steve drags his boxers down, thankful the man didn’t mention the obvious wet spot. Pure relief floods his body when his cock is finally freed, hard against his stomach, leaking precome.

Peter can’t decide if he wants more to cover himself or jump Cap right now immediately, but he doesn’t have to figure it out.

“Look at you, baby, you’re so wet, bet you’re just desperate for it, huh?” Steve murmurs in a voice definitely deeper than normal, swiping his thumb across Peter’s slit. Peter bucks his hips and whines at that, sure the flush has spread down his chest but unable to care.

“P-please, Steve, please-” Peter begs breathily. He wonders when the hell he got so openly eager.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’ll give you what you need,” Steve says lowly, kissing Peter’s thighs. He moves up and plants a kiss on the tip of Peter’s cock, making the boy moan. The man must like the sounds Peter makes then, because he kisses the same spot again, then licks slowly, tonguing at his slit. Peter’s shaking with the effort it takes to keep his hips from bucking up.

“So sensitive,” Steve chuckles, and moves back up Peter’s body. Peter’s so wrapped up in the kiss Steve gives him, tasting his own precome on Steve’s tongue, that he doesn’t notice Cap pulling out lube from a drawer, or even coating his fingers with it until there’s a digit slowly circling his hole.

Peter tenses up and Steve hushes him, letting him take a few deep breaths before pushing in.

Initial thoughts: weird. Not bad, but weird.

Peter’s grateful that Steve moves slow, taking his time in pushing the finger all the way in. He distracts Peter with kisses to his neck and collar bones, peppering little butterfly kisses all over his face. He whispers encouragement as he adds more fingers, letting Peter cling to his shoulders as he does.

When Steve finally decides Peter’s ready and Peter is shaking with need, breathlessly begging for him, he removes his fingers and slicks up his cock. Peter doesn’t know when Steve even took off his boxers but he only looks down for a moment to see how ridiculously fucking massive Steve is. Fuck, he thinks, oh holy fucking shit.

Steve pushes in painfully slow. When he bottoms out they’re both gasping for air, Peter feeling tears springing in his eyes. Healing factor, flexibility, and spider powers aside; Steve doesn’t want to accidentally hurt the boy. He kisses Peter while they wait for him to adjust.

Once he’s ready, though, Steve quickly escalates from slow, gentle thrusts to fast and rough. He slams his hips hard, gripping Peter’s waist and holding him down. Peter cries out every time Steve pulls almost all the way out and hammers back in.

There’s no holding back anymore. Too many months of sexual tension built up and there’s nothing to stop Steve from fucking Peter into the mattress, hard. Peter clings to him, nails probably digging into Steve’s shoulders but neither of them really care at all.

Nothing in the world exists except for this, now. Except for them. Peter feels so incredibly full and he never knew something could hurt so good until this. Until Steve.

His breath keeps catching and the filthiest moans slip from his mouth but he doesn’t mind because Steve’s groans hitch in his own throat. Peter thinks he might actually be drooling now with the force of Steve’s thrusts. Then the soldier adjusts their position slightly and suddenly he’s slamming into Peter’s prostate, and Peter nearly fucking screams.

“Think we found your sweet spot, huh baby,” Steve smirks, and Peter is so pissed that he’s capable of smirking right now, because he wants to say something snarky back but can’t even breathe.

Now that Steve found it, he makes sure to nail Peter’s prostate with every thrust. He’s fucking Peter so hard the smaller boy is sure the only thing keeping them in place is the bruising grip Steve has on his hips. He feels on fire in the best possible way and, god, why the hell didn’t they do this sooner?

When Steve feels himself getting close, he’s ready to reach between them and help out Peter (because he will Not be outlasted by a goddamn teenager), who seems on the verge of sobbing with the need to come. Before he does, though, Peter starts babbling nearly incoherent warnings to him. Seconds later he’s coming untouched, sending white stripes over his own stomach and chest. Steve groans. His voice sounds completely wrecked. The knowledge that he did that to the kid, the sight of the gorgeous boy tipping over the edge, making a mess of himself, plus the sounds Peter makes and how impossibly tighter his hole squeezes Steve has him coming a few thrusts later.

They stay like that, Steve softening inside Peter, hovering over him, chests almost touching, sweaty and catching their breath for a while before Steve slowly pulls out. He smirks at the mess on Peter’s chest and kisses him softly. Holding himself up with one hand, he pushes a finger back inside Peter’s hole, effectively preventing the come and leftover lube from leaking out of him and onto the bed. Peter winces in sensitivity, so Steve makes it up to him by licking him clean of come. Peter groans at the sight and feeling, squirming as his cock twitches, already starting to harden again.

After licking Peter clean, Steve pushes himself up and scoops the very tired, pliant boy into his arms. He carries him to the bathroom and starts the shower, peppering Peter’s hair and face with kisses that Peter dazedly attempts to return.

They shower together, and only just manage to clean the remnants of sex off themselves before Steve has Peter pressed against the wall of the shower, balls deep in him again, Peter trying not to moan too loudly for fear of echoing. When they do manage to stay cleaned up and turn off the water, Steve gives Peter a towel and nothing but one of his own large sweaters. The fabric swamps the small boy, falling off the edge of one shoulder and barely making it to his mid thighs. He looks adorable and for a moment, the soldier thinks about stopping himself from kissing the hickeys he made on the boy’s exposed collarbones and neck, but decides; why not? He pressed his lips gently over the love bites that litter Peter’s lovely skin and marvels at how pretty the boy is. Steve leaves him long enough to grab a pair of boxers for himself, then walks Peter back to his bed with their lips pressed lazily together.

They fall into bed still tangled in each other, Steve spooning Peter and pulling him close like it’s the most natural thing in the world. In his mind, he hopes it soon will be. He nuzzles Peter’s hair and thinks that his shampoo has never smelled as sweet as it does on this kid, and he pulls the lithe boy a little closer.

Peter mumbles something, nearly asleep, and Steve smiles into the kiss he places on the angel's head. Peter’s too cute and too sweet and Steve is definitely, 100% fucking him again in the morning.