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Held: Remix

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There was a briefcase Tony held sometimes. He used it when they assembled, or when he had a particularly precarious board meeting to attend. It contained the suit, Iron Man red, sleek as much as sturdy.

But all Steve saw was the thin metal chain, twisted steel from the handlebar to Tony’s wrist. His tan skin was a stark contrast against the cuffs, and Steve imagined sliding the suitcase out from under Tony’s hand. Holding it himself, he could lead Tony anywhere. And he’d follow. Helpless. Steve’s cock shifted in his uniform and he had to get his thoughts under control or his situation would soon be obvious.

But Steve couldn’t stop staring at the chain, so many thoughts flooding his mind. How he could use the chain to pull Tony’s arm high above his head, tug until the cuff on the end could lock around Steve’s bed frame. Bound. As long as Steve kept him chained there, he’d have Tony near. His.

Once before, he had felt this urge, when Bucky had retold his Hydra ordeal to the Howling Commandos. Straps had held him down to the table, unable to move. And Steve had imagined controlling someone that way, holding them in that way, in any way that Steve wanted. In control. He’d pictured leaning over him, tightening the straps. Blood had thrummed through his body then, just as it did now.

Once, he had felt this urge, and then it lay forgotten under the War and ice.  

He'd caught Tony’s attention, Steve knew, even through his sunglasses. Steve held Tony's gaze for a long moment then slid his eyes, slow and intentional, down his body to where the cuff clasped around his wrist. Steve let his focus travel in a leisurely journey back to Tony’s face, soak him in, and when their gazes caught again, Tony dropped his just as quickly, a smile teasing at his lips.

But Steve kept watching. 

Under his eye, Tony’s fingers stretched, letting the cuff dance along the delicate bones of his wrist, resting within the confines and restraints of the cuff. The movement shot to Steve’s cock, and Steve kept watching, thoughts wandering over Tony like a caress as they walked into the Quinjet. 

He selected the seat next to Tony, just to hear his breath catch.