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Thank You Fics

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“Ummm,” Tony murmured against the skin of Steve’s stomach.  “Yeah,” Tony drawled.   “That would be so—wait, what?” Tony asked sharply as he pried his mouth away and stared up at where Steve reclined against a stack of pillows on their bed.

“I—you said---you said I should tell you what I wanted, so.  I thought we could try that.  If you wanted, I mean,” Steve said with a small shrug.

“If. I. Wanted,” Tony repeated carefully, almost as if the word hurt to say.  “Really?” Tony winced around the word without really meaning to, but unable to stop himself, his face squinching up a bit in disbelief he didn’t want to feel.  “I mean—not that I’m opposed.  At. All. I just—I guess I figured you’d be,” Tony continued, waiving his hand in the air in place of using actual words.

“I’d be?” Steve questioned with a slight frown.

“Uncomfortable with that idea. I don’t know.  You’re just—all you and…and stuff,” Tony stuttered.   It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought about it.  Of course, he had thought about it.  Hell, he’d thought about it since he was a teenager.  What it would feel like, what Steve would look like, the sounds he would make, how it would be to be the one that Steve trusted enough to want to do that with…so, yeah, he’d given it some cursory thought.

Steve raised his eyebrows in question, his mouth flattening into a thin line.  “I’m not entirely sure how to take that,” he said evenly after a moment’s hesitation.

“You’re, you know.  ‘Murica and all that,” Tony offered, as if that explained anything. 

“I—I don’t have any idea what you just said,” Steve replied, the first sting of embarrassed annoyance start to creep into his voice.  “Look, forget it, okay?  It was just an idea. You said to tell you,” Steve finished, almost petulantly.  Tony groaned and rolled over to Steve’s side, leaving one hand over the flat of Steve’s stomach, still warm and wet from where his mouth had been before Steve derailed all higher brain function.

“I’m not—no.  Okay, really?  Forget about it?  That is literally impossible, you know that, right?  Like, Loki could show up here with his own artificial intelligence-powered robotic raptor squad playing hot potato with Mjolnir, and I couldn’t forget about it,” Tony burst out in half exasperation, half adoration.  “I just thought you’d be…uninterested.  In that.”

“Why not?” Steve prompted after Tony trailed off.

“You just seem…”  Tony started, then grimaced.  “You seem like you’d be the toppiest top to ever top, okay?”  Tony muttered, flopping down on his back on the bed beside Steve’s leg and staring up at the ceiling, before hazarding a glance up at Steve, who was giving the Furrow of Disapproval a workout.  “Some guys, they don’t want to, which is fine, whatever.  I like both, and I like to make my partner happy, so it’s no big deal.” 

Except, now it was a big deal because it was all Tony could think about. 

“Why wouldn’t I like it though?  You said you like both.  You seem to really like when I…when I…” Steve stammered, a blush already reddening the skin on his chest and neck while he tried desperately to meet Tony’s eyes.

“When you fuck me?  Yes, Steve.  I like that.  Literally everyone knows I like that, and you know why I know that everyone knows I like that?” Tony demanded.

“Is it because Clint swears he went partially deaf on purpose so he wouldn’t have to listen to you anymore?” Steve suggested.

“Got it in one,” Tony grinned.  “Some guys, I don’t know, like they think it’s more manly or some shit to top.  Since, you know, women bottom.  Or something.  Hey, don’t look at me like that.  I didn’t come up with this,” Tony objected, holding out his hands in a placating gesture. 

“I’m pretty sure I’m the same person whichever way we make love,” Steve replied, his frown starting to resemble Hulk trying to do equations.  Tony felt a small, fond smile curve his mouth. Steve always called it making love, and at first he’d thought Steve just didn’t want to say ‘sex’ or something, but Steve, he’d quickly learned, was hardly a prude.  Turns out a bunch of young Army boys stuck in a warzone talked about two things:  food and sex.  Who knew?  “Besides,” Steve continued, his frown truly becoming adorably epic.  “That makes it sound like the position associated with women is considered the, well, the lesser position.”

“Yeah, it’s almost like some gay men fetishize masculinity and don’t know fuck all about women,” Tony grumbled, scrubbing his face with his hands.  “Look, believe me, I am completely onboard here if you want to try it.  Like, male praying mantis level of committed to the idea of having sex with you, however you want it.  But, I mean, are you sure?” Tony asked quietly. 

“I’ve given this a lot of thought—“ Steve started.

“Oh, God,” Tony moaned, throwing his arm over his face.  “Please stop speaking about thinking about me fucking you.  I’m—look at me, Steve, I’m getting hard from words.  Words, Steve.  Not even sexy words, just, you know, basic, run-of-the-mill words.”

“I think it would feel good,” Steve continued as if Tony hadn’t spoken.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re like Tantric Scrabble,” Tony interrupted with a shake of his head.

 “That doesn’t even make sense, and I think we should try it.  If you want to, I mean,” Steve said, feeling himself start to warm with a combination of arousal and self-consciousness. 

“If I want to, he says,” Tony mumbled from underneath his arm.  Tony tossed his arm to the side and rolled over onto his elbows to glare up at Steve.  “Steve.  Are you sure this is about what you want?  Really want, not just want to want because you think it’s something I want?”

“I—yes?  I mean, yes, I want it.  If you do.  You don’t have to, Tony, really.  It’s okay if you don’t want to.  I love the way we usually make love—I do. Really, I love it. It’s—God, being with you is amazing.  It’s just…when we’re together like that, you just look so—so gone sometimes, and I thought, maybe.  Maybe it would be nice.  To feel like that,” Steve admitted, almost reluctantly, eyes shifting away from Tony.

“Steve, look at me,” Tony demanded quietly, eyes glittering in the low light.  A beat went by, then Steve dragged his gaze back to Tony’s.  Even in the low light of the bedroom, Tony could read the vulnerability there, the desire for acceptance.  This thing between them still had the feeling of newness to it, a fragility that neither of them seemed to want to acknowledge.  “I would like nothing more than to work you open, take my time with you, like you do with me, make sure you’re ready, then fill you up with my cock until you can’t think of anything else except how good it feels when I fuck you, until you’re too far gone to think of anything except deeper, harder, more, and you beg me to touch you, just touch you, so you can come while you still feel me filling you, so your whole body tightens around me until I empty myself inside you while you scream my name.”

“Oh,” Steve croaked, gaze snapping back to Tony’s.  “Okay.”

“It’s good we have these little talks,” Tony murmured into Steve’s hip, nipping lightly.  Steve was sitting up against the headboard, blinking owlishly down at Tony. “Steve?  Babe?”

“Hmm?” Steve hummed.

“Anything else we need to talk about?” Tony asked lightly, grinning lasciviously as he started to press small, grinding bites along Steve’s hipbone, laving each one with his tongue when he was done.

“I think I understand the Tantric Scrabble thing now,” Steve said as Tony pushed the sheet aside with one hand and grabbed the pillows from behind Steve’s back with the other, urging him down on the bed.  Steve seemed to force his sluggish body to comply, flattening himself out on the bed and letting his legs fall open. 

“Nmmm,” Tony purred, tracing the line of muscle from under Steve’s knee up the inside of his thigh.  He swung one leg to straddle Steve’s, then bent down, curving an elbow on either side of Steve’s chest.  He could feel Steve’s hard cock pressing insistently against his belly, and let his hips thrust up just slightly against Steve’s thigh so he could feel Tony’s arousal as well. 

Steve’s eyes were dark and wide, little more than a ring of white visible at the edges, his mouth slightly parted.  As Tony watched, Steve’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, an unconsciously titillating gesture.  Tony heard himself moan and dipped his head, letting it fall against Steve’s chest, resting there with his back curved so he could look down at the space between them.  His own cock was red and full, raised just slightly off Steve’s hip.  Steve was always ahead of him, his own erection already jutting out next to Tony’s stomach and leaking fluid in small, wet spurts over Steve’s stomach and groin.  Tony moved his hips again, slowly this time, the mimicry obvious.  When he looked up, Steve’s eyes were squeezed shut, mouth flattened as the muscles of his throat constricted, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.  Tony watched, mesmerized for a moment, then turned his head to the side and took Steve’s nipple between his teeth.

Steve’s whole body jumped and his eyes flew open, hands twisting reflexively in the sheet, and if he wasn’t carefu—yep, there went the sheets.  Tony smiled, keeping Steve’s nipple between his lips, jabbing his tongue out to lick lightly at the sensitive peak. 

“T—Tony,” Steve choked out, shaking his head back and forth.  Tony could feel Steve’s legs moving underneath him, seemingly of their own volition. 

Tony sucked hard, drawing the dark pink skin up into his mouth and letting his tongue swirl in circles around the areola before releasing it.  Steve was making gasping, needy little groans that were going straight to Tony’s cock.  He took in a deep breath, then slowly let the air out of his lungs, and reached down to pinch the head of his own cock, because, unlike Steve, he really had one shot at this and if Steve kept looking and sounding like that, it was going to turn into a somewhat less eventful evening than he had in mind.

“No need for foreplay, huh?”  Tony asked. 

Steve shook his head back and forth rapidly again and finally stopped squirming underneath Tony, though he couldn’t seem to keep entirely still, like too much sensation was running through his body to stop moving entirely.  “Sheets,” Steve burst out as if the word exploded from his chest.  “Sorry.  Again.”

“Steve, hon, you tear all the bedding you want.  Hell, we’ll all go as the happiest mummies on the planet next Halloween,” Tony assured him.  Tony stretched his body across Steve’s and reached into the nightstand drawer, grabbing the tube and tossing it on the bed. 

“Okay, roll over,” Tony said, grabbing a pillow and scrunching it between his hands.

Steve shook his head, then dropped his eyes.  “We…we don’t. Like that.  We…I like to see you,” Steve managed, looking back up at Tony. 

“It’ll be easier, at least the first time we try this,” Tony promised, nudging at Steve’s hip.

“I want to see you,” Steve repeated more firmly, setting his jaw, and Tony knew that part of the discussion was over.

Tony slid his leg off where he was straddling Steve’s thigh and settled himself between Steve’s knees.  Steve was watching him with a desperate sort of look, moving his body back and forth up and down on the bed ever so slightly.  Tony placed a light hand against the inside of Steve’s thigh, and the other man immediately stilled.  Tony slowly pushed Steve’s leg up and to the side, then repeated the action with the other leg, until Steve was spread wide for him, cock tapping lightly against his stomach with each movement.  There was a light, white path streaking across Steve’s belly already, and his cock was straining and leaking.

“You want me to take care of you first?” Tony offered.  Steve just shook his head again and bit his lip, and fuck it all if that wasn’t just the hottest thing Tony had ever seen. 

“Want…want what you said.  With you inside me,” Steve panted, voice rough and raw with need. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Steve,” Tony ground out, closing his eyes again and trying to think of differential equations.  “Okay, okay.  Okay,” Tony babbled.  “I’m going to get you loose now, okay?  Just try to relax.  It’ll feel weird at first, but you’ll get used to it.  Anything you don’t like, just tell me.”  He took a deep breath and dug around in the mess of a bed for the tube of lube.  He squirted a liberal amount on his hand and rubbed them together, warming it, then added another dollop to his index finger.  He pushed Steve’s thighs even further apart and touched the tip of his finger lightly to the rim of muscle around Steve’s hole, coating the raised edge.   Tony looked up at Steve, who was staring down at him, pupils dark, a fine sheet of perspiration on his brow and chest.

Without further preamble, Tony pushed his finger in to the knuckle, then held it there, letting Steve adjust to the sudden invasion.  Dear God, he was so fucking tight.  Like heat and wet and pressure and seriously, Tony needed to stop thinking ahead and focus on making this good for Steve, but holy hell. 

“You okay?” Tony asked.

“Ummm,” Steve slurred out, blinking slowly down at him. 

“Going to need words, Steve,” Tony urged.

“M’good, Tony,” Steve replied.   “Feels good.”

Tony took that for the permission it was and slowly pressed his finger all the way in, watching as Steve’s hole gripped him, the clear gel oozing out around his finger.  He withdrew his finger to the tip and worked it in and out of Steve’s body until it slid in without resistance, then added a second finger and more lube, easing both in slowly.  He heard Steve grunt lowly and stopped, but then Steve was moving, shifting his body around on the bed and pressing down against Tony’s hand until his fingers were buried deep inside. 

“You like that, eh?” Tony surmised.  “Well, you’re gonna love this.”  Tony crooked his fingers, hooking them up and pressing further into Steve’s body, feeling Steve’s inner walls firm and then relax, until he found the tight bundle of nerves and stroked against it with the tips of his fingers.

Well, Tony thought a moment later, that certainly did it. 

Steve’s whole body shuddered and clenched around Tony’s fingers, his knees clamping together around Tony as his hips jolted, sending a spurt of fluid over his chest in what Tony figured was the absolute most fucking gorgeous thing he’d ever seen.  Steve was making some kind of unintelligible sound that might have been Tony’s name if he could have bought a vowel. 

Tony drew his fingers back, then began scissoring them, slowly at first, then with more force behind it, working to loosen Steve’s hole enough.  God-damn healing factor was a blessing and a curse, Tony mused.  He pumped harder, spreading the ring of muscle between his fingers until he could see the dark, pink channel inside, then added a third finger and more lube, pushing them in and out until he was satisfied.  He kept up the rhythm with his fingers and used his other hand to squirt the lube directly on his cock.  Eh, the sheets were toast anyway.  He rubbed it around his straining member until it slipped easily across his palm, then used the back of his wrist to nudge Steve’s leg up higher again.

“You ready?” Tony breathed out heavily.  Tony drew his fingers out and lined his cock up with Steve’s hole, not wanting to give Steve’s body any time to decide it needed to fix itself.  “Deep breath, okay?”  Tony ordered, then pressed the head of his cock past the reddened rim, feeling it stretch around him, then give as he sank into the heat of Steve’s body.  God, he was like some kind of molten vice, Tony thought hazily, hot and so God-damned tight, inner muscles clenching and rippling around the length of Tony's cock as his body adjusted to the invasion.  Tony forced himself to still for a moment, though it took all his willpower to do so.  He looked up at Steve’s face for any sign of pain or distress, but Steve had his head thrown back, neck arched and shoulders rigid while his mouth opened and closed soundlessly. 

“Steve?” Tony panted.  “Steve?”  Dear God, if he’d fucked this up—

“Deeper,” Steve said, letting his shoulders relax against the bed, and head loll back, eyes locking on Tony’s.  “Harder.  More.”

Hearing his own words torn from Steve’s lips sent a spike of almost painful need burning its way through his belly and down to the tip of his cock.  He groaned and pushed into Steve, slowly, relishing the slide, the way Steve’s body moved against his, the muscles contracting and giving as Tony thrust forward until he was fully seated, his balls rubbing against the slick contours of Steve’s ass.  He pulled back, until the tip of his cockhead caught against the rim of Steve’s hole, then pushed all the way in again, earning a sharp, broken moan from Steve.

Tony shifted, widening his knees a bit and lowering his weight a bit and wound his hands under Steve’s legs, lifting them slightly to find the right angle, then pulled out and plunged in again, the head of his cock slamming against Steve’s prostrate, making Steve’s own cock jump and sending a fresh spurt of fluid across Steve’s chest.  Tony picked up his pace, withdrawing enough to feel the slick pressure as he thrust in again and again.  He knew he wasn’t going to last long, not with Steve clenching around him, almost sucking him in, and the soft, low moans that were echoing from Steve’s throat that Tony wasn’t even sure Steve was aware he was making. 

He reached up a slickened hand and wound it around Steve’s cock, rubbing it up and down a few strokes before wrapping his hand around the stiffened head.  He could feel the large vein on the underside throbbing against his palm.  He swirled the pad of his finger around the head and over the slit, pushing lightly against it and spreading it enough to rub against the sensitive tip just as he pulled all the way out and thrust hard back in again, burying himself to the hilt, pumping in and out, matching the rhythm as he stroked Steve’s cock. 

Steve gasped and cried out, his whole body shuddering again, hips jerking as he came.  Tony rode out the motion as Steve’s body drew up around him like a vice as he came in long, thick streams in Tony’s hand. As soon as he felt Steve relax, he pulled out and slammed in again and again, and then he was coming, hips jerking spasmodically against Steve as he spent himself inside him and promptly collapsed in a heap across Steve’s chest.

Tony groaned and forced himself up, bracing himself on wobbly hands on either side of Steve’s chest.  Steve was breathing deeply, but evenly, and he looked an utterly debauched wreck, his hair sticking to his head, bottom lip red from where he’d bitten it at some point and chest covered in his own come.  God, it was a glorious day to be alive, Tony thought. 

“This is going to feel really strange, so just relax for a minute,” Tony coaxed, then slowly pulled out.

“Oh,” Steve huffed out breathily.  Tony couldn’t help but glance down, mouth going dry as he watched a white trail of his come leak out of Steve’s hole and down the curve of his ass onto the bed. Yeah, the sheets were toast.  He got up on shaky legs and found his way to the bathroom and wet a washcloth with warm water, then grabbed another towel.  God, they were a mess, he thought, looking down at himself, a ridiculous smile forming.  He padded back over to the bed and knee-crawled over to where Steve lay unmoving. 

He pushed Steve’s legs apart again and ran the warm, wet cloth along the crack of his ass, dabbing carefully at his hole.  It was already tightening up, Tony noticed.  He felt he shouldn’t like that as much as he did, so decided not to mention it.  He got the rest of them cleaned up, then tossed the towels on the floor.  Looking down at the bed, he shook his head and grabbed the edges of the sheets and pulled them off the bed and out from under Steve, who lifted his hips helpfully when Tony tugged. 

Tony pulled the comforter up to cover Steve’s hips, then curled up next to him, winding one hand across his chest and burrowing into the crook of Steve’s arm that came up to wrap under Tony’s head. 

“So, uh, you okay there?” Tony asked with more than a little trepidation.  Please have liked this, please have liked, please have liked this, he mentally chanted.

“Clint is going to want to go all the way deaf.  No, wait.  I didn’t mean that. That’s horrible to say. I’m not—I shouldn’t—words.  I shouldn’t words,” Steve said with a frown.  Tony bit the inside of his cheek, then smiled down at him. 

“No wording for you, then.  Words bad,” Tony chuckled teasingly, part relief, part left over lack of blood to his brain. 

“Love you,” Steve murmured, voice thick and slurry with sleep. 

Tony crooked his neck to look up at Steve, his eyes already drooped low, breathing evening out, though his arm tightened under Tony at the movement.  “Words good,” Tony whispered.