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Quiet Worship

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Tony opens his eyes, and glances at the clock on the bedside table. The glowing numbers tell him he should have been up over an hour ago, and he sighs contentedly, not feeling the least bit guilty for indulging. It seems like he never does, anymore.  He blinks a few times, letting his eyes adjust to the bright sunlight filtering in through the curtains, enough to light up his bedroom, but not assault it. It’s kind of perfect, he thinks.

He startles when he realizes he’s not alone, that Steve is spread out next to him on his stomach. Usually by this time, Steve’s day would be well underway. He vaguely wonders why Steve hasn’t already gotten up, then realizes he doesn’t really care. He’s still sleeping hard; eyes fluttering in a dream, his breath slow and relaxed, warm puffs of breath Tony can feel on his shoulder. Tony can’t help but let his eyes wander and take in the sight before him. The blanket that started out wrapped around them securely last night is now barely covering Steve, suggestively wrapping around his legs and only most of his ass. It would take hours for a photographer to get that position just right and it doesn’t surprise Tony in the slightest that Steve achieves it naturally.

He knows he should let Steve sleep, because frankly, Steve being lazy is a very rare and adorable sight to see. He’s almost proud. Tony smiles inwardly at the thought that he’s rubbing off on Steve; enough of Steve’s traits are already melding themselves into his personality, for better or worse.

He should let him sleep, really, he knows this. He should go back to sleep, or carefully get up, maybe make a cup of coffee, or a million other things that would allow Steve to stay in the position he’s in, peaceful and dreaming. Instead, he gives into the urge and runs a hand through Steve’s soft, messy hair. Steve makes a small noise at the contact, something between a whimper and a groan, turning his head farther into the pillow, refusing to be woken. Tony can’t help the surge of affection that he feels in his chest, as he lets his hand come to rest on the back of Steve’s neck.

He carefully maneuvers himself free of his own blanket, so he can move without the risk of waking his lover. It takes a moment, but he moves to hover over Steve, carefully balanced with his weight on his elbow and hand, legs lying alongside each other’s. He starts just above the sheet covers Steve’s backside, placing a soft kiss on the sleep-warm skin just above the swell of Steve’s backside. Steve doesn’t even twitch, just keeps sleeping and Tony has to stop himself from taking it as a challenge and just enjoy the contact. He moves up a couple of inches, opens his mouth this time when he presses his lips low on Steve’s back and sucks lightly, leaving a faint pink mark in place, barely noticeable for the moment. Steve’s breathing stutters slightly but it doesn’t change rhythm.

Tony is undeterred as he moves again, this time half-way up Steve’s back. He takes a second to breathe in, enjoying the smell of Steve, of soap and his cologne; a faint, subtle scent that makes Tony just ache in all the right places. He doesn’t hesitate, just presses his lips and tongue against bare skin and mouths at the spot until it’s flushed and bruised. Tony wishes he could do this every day. That he could spend hours just covering Steve with kisses. Steve moves a little, turning farther onto his stomach, and stretching slightly.

The next kiss is on Steve’s shoulder blade, and Tony licks up the ridge of it that he can feel under muscle before going back and using his mouth again to add another spot to the delicious trail he’s making. He can’t wait to see it later, when the marks really set in, dark and possessive. He can feel his cock already begin to ache at the mere thought, and he quickly regains himself before he turns this into something else entirely.

 This time, when he’s done, he can feel Steve’s breathing shift significantly, and he knows Steve’s awake. Instead of moving up and kissing him on the mouth, like he wants to, and he knows Steve’s expecting; he moves back down alongside Steve. Sleepy blue eyes open and make contact with Tony’s, and it steals Tony’s breath away, just like always.  Not daring to look away, he takes Steve’s hand and bring it up to his mouth. He presses his lips to the delicate skin on the inside of Steve’s wrist, and he opens his mouth just enough, sucking a tiny bruise into Steve’s skin. It’s a mark so small, chances are, no one else will notice; but Steve will. A small little reminder of the person who put it there.

It’s a glorious thought, Tony acknowledges, that Steve allows him to do this; wants him close like this. That he not only lets Tony worship him with his hands, and his mouth, as thought Tony has a right to; but he even reciprocates. Tony’s pretty sure there’s no one in the world who can understand how truly magnificent that fact really is. Some days, he still can’t believe it.

He continues to lavish attention on Steve’s wrist, maybe just a little longer than necessary, but he does finally pull away. Steve moves, putting the newly released hand over Tony’s heart, sighing contently. Tony can’t resist anymore, and he moves close, pressing his body up against Steve’s and finally, let’s their mouths meet. Steve moves his hand from Tony’s chest to his neck, pulling him closer and pressing harder as he runs his tongue along the seam of Tony’s mouth. He can’t move fast enough, opening easily; letting Steve explore, and taste. He presses back, but remains passive as Steve plunders his mouth, a trait he rare adopts when they’re in bed together, and the kiss stays soft. Steve knows he could move things up, make things hotter and turn this soft make-out session into something really fucking hot, but he doesn’t. Just keeps licking into Tony’s mouth like he’s got all the time in the world.

Tony’s not surprised, really. Steve’s always had a soft spot for the slow and sensual, and this kiss is no exception. Steve pulls away slightly, sucks gently at Tony’s lower lip, before pressing in again and fully pulling away. Tony moves with him slightly, trying to keep their lips together, not wanting to let go so soon. Reluctantly, he relents, and moves back, lying his head down next to Steve’s on the pillow.

A beat passes as they grin at each other, lips full and flushed, and they’re completely oblivious to the world around them. Tony’s pretty sure if there’s a heaven, and he gets to go, his is going to look just. like. this.

“Good morning,” Steve says softly, squeezing gently with the hand that’s still on Tony’s neck.

“Hm,” Tony replies vaguely, stretching slightly and sliding a hand up Steve’s back, over the trail he made earlier. He brings his hand up to run his thumb along Steve’s cheekbone, and watches as Steve closes his eyes, his long eyelashes grazing the tip of Tony’s thumb. “It really is.”