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Quarantined Together

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The bar is crowded and dim.

Steve had gone through three beers - including the one from the handsy guy whose ass he had ended up kicking, but Steve hates wasting food, or drinks, and there is no need to let a good pint of beer go to waste.

The fourth beer comes quite unexpectedly, from a guy Steve had not spotted before. He can usually tell if people are watching him, even if they are not in his line of sight, but he had not seen this guy, not before the bartender sets the beer on the counter in front of Steve. He turns to the direction that the bartender points, and the guy raises his glass, nods, and...wow, smiles.

There is something magical about that smile. It’s beautiful and earnest and it kinda lights up his whole face. Sparkles shine in his eyes and butterflies start to fly in Steve's stomach. Things seem to run away, all of a sudden; and he feels like he is 20 again, carefree and shy and damn he is absolutely blushing.

“May I sit down?”

Steve looks up and it feels like someone has knocked the breath out of his lungs. He opens and closes his mouth and tries to say something but no sound seems to come out. He nods, after many attempts at finding words and failing miserably, and the guy sits down on the stool next to him, not even two inches away.

Steve tries to look away. He wants to be polite and not stare, he wants to at least take a sip from the drink the guy bought him but he just can’t. He looks at the guy and his dark fluffy hair and wonders if that third drink has actually got to him because he seems to have a hard time keeping his hands to himself. He suddenly has this urge to touch this man; those eyes, that hair, and the perfect mesmerizing whole-face smile.

“Tony,” he says and he stretches his hand out. Steve manages to grab the hand and shake it, and mumble something which, thank God, sounds very much like his own name. The guy, Tony, brings his other hand forward, holds on to Steve’s hand with both of his own, and smiles again. “Nice to meet you, Steve,” and Steve’s heart starts to race in his chest.

They talk about unimportant stuff, from baseball to world peace. Steve does his best to keep up with the unlimited string of words and funniest jokes in human history, but he fails mostly. He constantly catches himself with an open mouth, holding his fifth and sixth beer halfway in the air and nodding like a stupid goofball. It’s not like he can’t talk about basketball or memes; he finished a 300-page book about Gen Z and meme culture, thank you very much. But this guy… is just impossible. Every single word out of his mouth is pure genius, and the scent he spreads as he moves is just intoxicating.

Steve blushes at a dirty joke, giggles and blushes a bit more, embarrassed from giggling and blushing in the first place. Tony smiles at the whole show Steve’s got going on and lays a reassuring hand on Steve’s shoulder. Steve’s body freezes for a second, and he feels numb from the touch before something starts to burn through his left shoulder down to his chest and set his whole body on fire.

Steve has never felt this way before.

He is fascinated by this guy’s eyes and his jokes and the most beautiful laugh he has ever heard, but it’s not just that. There is something about sitting here and blushing shyly that feels right. It feels to have been decided for him by a greater power, somehow, that had brought him to this bar randomly and had made him stick around even after the disastrous approach from that previous douche bag. Not that Steve wants to get spiritual about meeting a sexy man, but he feels like he's been waiting for this for so long, for eternity maybe.

And he knows what he needs to do next. He is certain. He is ready.

So he just does it, he leans forward and kisses Tony.

Steve’s body is burning with desire as Tony cups the back of his head to pull him in, and he starts trembling as Tony wraps his other hand around his waist to keep him close. They kiss, lips, tongues, and teeth, and Steve knows that he is being horrible and clumsy, but Tony doesn’t seem to care at all. He tightens his hold on Steve’s nape as soon as he breaks away and pulls Steve back into another wet and sloppy yet more breathtakingly amazing kiss.

Steve is not sure about what happens next exactly. He remembers being held tight and kissed as they pay for their drinks, walk out of the back door, and into a hotel lobby that is apparently right behind the dingy bar. He remembers the hand that’s wrapped around his waist the whole time, as Tony talks to the hotel reception and the amazing feeling of Tony’s body pressing him onto the elevator mirror all the way up to level one hundred and fifty-something.

Tony is gentle and relentless and Steve can’t quite figure out how those two things can be true at the same time. He is smaller than Steve, height and build and all, but Steve feels absolutely powerless in his hands. He allows Tony to drag him along to the bedroom of what seems to be a luxurious penthouse and goes easily as Tony pushes him onto the enormous white bed, gentle but firm.

He stands at the foot of the bed and watches Steve for a moment. The anticipation of what’s coming next makes the butterflies fly again in Steve’s stomach and the way Tony seems to be admiring the sweaty flushed mess Steve must be right now, builds more heat low in his belly. He is warm and dizzy and buzzing with want without the tiniest shred of doubt about doing this. He is not even nervous, although he always thought he would be when he finally does it, but now…he feels right. He feels safe.

Tony’s fingers lighten up every inch of Steve. He pauses after undoing each button to kiss whatever bit of skin he has just revealed and makes sure to whisper something about the way Steve feels under his hands each and every time.

Steve tries to say something too. He tries to reach over and touch Tony because he really absolutely wants to, but the connection between his brain and his body seems to be malfunctioning. He knows what he needs to do, at least in theory. He has thought about this so many times, and although he will never admit to anyone he might have made a few lists in some of his notebooks. Right now, however, all he can do is immerse himself in the touches and kisses and words and blush, God, all over his almost naked body.

Tony kisses the tip of his nose and it’s endearing and hot as hell, and he pulls back a little. He grabs Steve’s hand with both of his, lifts his chin, and the way he looks at Steve, awed and soft and yet beaming desire, takes Steve’s breath away.

“So please don’t take this the wrong way, but I’ll be damned if I don’t ask and I will kick myself to oblivion if I do anything without being sure, so, here we go… is this your first time with a guy?”

Steve is not sure if it’s physically possible to be more turned on than he is right now. Or embarrassed for that matter as he is cherry red all over and he is absolutely leaking in his underwear. He nods and probably blushes some more because Tony’s eyes get even softer and yet darker with intent.

“But you have done this before, right? I am not your --” and Steve’s not sure what he does with his face but Tony’s suddenly kissing him all gentle and fierce again.

Things get even more blurry after that. Tony strips out of his clothes except for his briefs and lies next to Steve. His hands and lips are back on Steve’s body as he wraps his feet around Steve’s. The words that he whispers don’t quite register anymore, but they are doing magic to Steve’s nerves because he feels calm and liberated. He doesn’t try to control his hands anymore. He just wraps them around Tony and lets go, of the embarrassment, the cold, the anger, the pain, and the sorrow.

Tony asks before taking off Steve’s boxers. He waits patiently for Steve to say the word, and asks and waits again before Steve tells him that he can touch his cock. In the long seconds between the confirmation leaving Steve’s lips and Tony’s hand finally touching him, and in the feverish haze that’s clouding his brain, Steve thinks about how this is nothing like he had imagined his first time to be. That this, here, naked and lost in Tony’s body and his scent and his touch, is something he has never even dared to dream about. He trembles and whines as Tony’s fingers wrap around his cock and doesn’t even try to stop the stream of nonsense that is coming out of his mouth. He reaches over and pushes Tony’s briefs down, enough to get his hand on Tony’s cock, vaguely aware that he should probably ask first but he just can’t. He runs his fingers on the head and smears Tony’s precum over the head and the length. Tony moans, long and low and a fresh rush of arousal goes through Steve’s body. He presses himself into Tony, squirming as Tony’s fingers move on him, mirroring his rhythm without realizing.

He is hot. He is lightheaded. He is exhilarated. He is safe and he feels that he can let go. That he can finally let go.

Tony’s fingers move around Steve’s cock and he tightens his feet around Steve’s ankles. Steve’s fingers move on Tony and he pulls him further in until there is no distance between them and their lips meet into a kiss unexpected and electrifying.

Everything clicks into place. Steve comes, shivering and crying and he holds on to Tony as he comes almost instantly after Steve. It takes a second, or an hour, but they hold on to each other all the way through it, every tremor, every whimper, every gasp. Tony kisses Steve’s lips, his eyes, his neck, and his chest and Steve kisses the top of Tony’s head and the back of his neck. He knows that he probably should move, clean up, do or say something, but Tony is holding on to him tight and that’s all he needs in the world right now.

He closes his eyes, with his chin brushing against Tony’s hair, as Tony pulls the covers over them and falls into a dreamless deep sleep.

***

Steve wakes up with the sound of a ringing phone and a deep low voice talking, which sounds kinda angry. In the sleepy confusion of the first seconds after waking up, he wonders if he has done something wrong and his heart drops as he sits up in the still warm but empty bed.

Tony is on the phone on the other side of the room by the window, naked, and Steve lets out a breath he has been holding as he is not the only naked person in the room. He doesn’t get a chance to worry about anything else though; his phone starts ringing in the pocket of his jeans. And thank god, because Tony grabs them from the couch, walks over and drops them on Steve’s lap so he doesn’t have to do the naked walk of shame across the room. Tony smiles at Steve and bends down to leave a quick kiss on Steve’s hair absentmindedly before turning back to the window and butterflies flutter in Steve’s stomach again. He takes his phone out, which has now stopped ringing, and wonders what has gone wrong, because he has 22 missed calls, 14 messages, and five voice mails.

Steve taps on Nat’s caller ID photo and reads through all of the messages. He wonders if he is still asleep or if Nat has decided to message in some sort of code because none of the messages make any sense. He looks at Tony who is now off the phone and his defeated and miserable expression does not make any sense either.

Steve dials into his voice mail and listens to all six of Nat’s messages, which are all exactly the same and It’s probably around the ending of the fifth message that things start to sink in.

“Steve, where the hell are you? I need your location ASAP. Fury got a call an hour ago since you used your SHIELD credit card in that bar last night. A staff member had tested positive and you know WHO has declared a pandemic today. Anyone who’s been to that bar last night has to self isolate for 14 days. Don’t do anything stupid, okay? Call me as soon as you get this.”

He looks up at Tony, who is still standing by the window, tapping on his phone quickly, and for a second gets lost in the way he looks different but exactly the same in the daylight. Tony looks up from his phone as if he can feel Steve’s eyes on himself and his distressed features pull Steve out of the bubbled daze and throws him back into reality.

“We still have pandemics?"