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Worth His Weight

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To hear his friends tell it, conquest was one of the greatest parts of life - though none of them could seem to agree on what aspect of it was their favorite. Some enjoyed the planning, some enjoyed the actual conquering itself; some were drawn to the screams of pain and the smell of blood, some to the begging for mercy and kowtowing. And in some respects, Tony mused, those last ones were right. The begging and kowtowing was quite enjoyable.

But his favorite part was playing with whatever the conquered people offered him as tribute.

Stane of the Shattered Fjord had plied him with twenty-six white horses with shaggy coats and broad, boxy noses...and then promptly attempted to murder Tony as he fawned over them. Stane had been swiftly executed for his troubles, and Tony had spent the next few weeks loving and spoiling each horse until they nickered excitedly at the mere smell of him.

Romanoff, whose kingdom teetered on the edge of the Widowmaker Cliffs, had sensed imminent defeat if she attempted to stand in the way of his crawl eastward. He had been greeted with banners and a banquet rather than steel and screaming, and after a generous offering of five chests of precious gems, hand-hewn from the cliffs on the opposite side of the valley - he had told her that his allies need not offer tribute, but she had insisted - Tony had been more than happy to leave her and her people to their own devices.

The world was far too large for one man to control...and if he was being perfectly honest, he liked his free time far too much to sacrifice it to nonstop rule. But recent attacks had left him little choice but to rake over the eastern territories and weed out his enemies.

It was in the small province of Gammasse, which only fought until they realized Tony was not there to conquer needlessly, that Tony decided to rest his troops. The local king, Banner - 'call me Bruce', he had insisted in a soft voice with a calm smile - had ushered him into his castle with a strange sort of excitement. Almost as though he were afraid to let his emotions get the better of him.

"Please, King Stark, forgive the resistance - we heard some rather disturbing rumors about the Northmen, and we were bracing for attack. The encounter was simply poorly timed."

"No hard feelings. I'm glad neither of us suffered any casualties; maybe I'm soft, but it always pains me to see my men fall."

"I see that as a mark of a good king, not a soft one. Now, let's put some food in you. The valley isn't a kind trip."

Tony smiled as he followed Bruce through sand-colored archways and walls covered in glistening emerald and amethyst mosaics, down to his dining hall. That was one nice thing about being treated after travel; whoever was hosting always broke out the best food they had to offer. Tony would have offered them no less if it had been his allies finding their way to his kingdom. The smells of heavy spices floated in the air, unfamiliar ones, and Tony's mouth watered as the feast was laid out before them. Even Bruce's other guests, local nobility and his close friends, perked up at the sight of the fare.

Tony slid Bruce a pleased look as a servant ladled fragrant yellow rice and a thick, creamy red sauce heavy with vegetables onto his plate. "My goodness, Bruce. You really know how to make a man feel welcome."

Bruce smiled back at him. "We live in threatening times, King Stark. If you'll forgive my plain speaking, it would help me out a lot to have an ally like you."

Tony laughed. He liked that, the naked honesty of it. And yet coming from Bruce, it didn't feel like an insult, or like he was being used for his power. It was simply a fact. "Well, if this tastes as good as it looks, you'll definitely make a friend out of me."

Bruce didn't bother hiding how delighted he was by that, and he passed Tony a plate of something fried and fragrant. "Don't fill up too much. You won't be able to properly enjoy my gift to you if you do."

Tony looked over, surprised. "Now, Bruce, I told you - I only demand offerings from the people who fought me."

"Technically, I did. Besides, it's a tradition to offer a Golden Form to new allies. You are free to refuse, of course; I personally found the practice distasteful when I first took over. But no one is ever forced, and, well...they're nice to have around."

Tony had to admit, his curiosity was piqued. He asked questions, but Bruce would tell him no more - just smile at him in that reserved way of his, then pass him something new to try or call a servant over to refill Tony's cup. It was maddening, but the anticipation had Tony excited as well. A Golden Form, eh? What was that, a statue? If so, Tony would be even more impressed than he already was; for craftsmen to make a statue so quickly would be impossible to his knowledge. Perhaps Gammasse had some special technique.

Dessert was small, spongy balls of cake sprinkled with sweet cheese, and a pudding filled with rum-plumped raisins and blackcurrants. Tony enjoyed it very much, but curiosity dragged at his attention...and finally, finally, Bruce took pity on him. He gave a soft laugh and snapped his fingers, gesturing to two servants near the door. "If you two would be good enough to bring King Stark's gift?" They bowed and vanished.

Tony flicked an excited grin at Bruce. "You tease. I think you and I are going to be very good friends."

"I hope so. I like having you around; things get a little boring here."

They chatted softly until the servants returned, and between them was something Tony hadn't been expecting at all.

A man.

He was tall and muscular, with pale sun-freckled skin and hair like the golden edge on the clouds during sunset. His eyes were blue, bright and clear like crystals, framed by a strong face. He was dressed in royal blue and white silks, with unset rubies held against his skin by what smelled like honey wax. When he saw Tony, he bowed immediately, but kept his head tilted up just enough that he could peer at Tony through his lashes. Not seductively, but with brazen curiosity. He was placing his own intrigue over court-common respect.

Tony liked that. He liked it a lot.

"A servant?" Tony asked curiously.

"Yes and no," Bruce answered. "Golden Forms are chosen once they come of age to recieve unique training, and are only eligible if they have remain untouched to that point. If they accept their position, they are given extensive verbal instruction on how to please their future king, queen, lord, or what have you - but again, they remain untouched. They may practice certain things on themselves, of course, but if you accept dear Steven here, yours will be the first body he ever enjoys."

So...a sex slave, then. But willing and, hopefully, eager. He'd been through kingdoms that offered servants and slaves trained for more carnal purposes before, but it had always been as punishment, or out of sheer desperation on the slave's part. This was an interesting situation here, with the trainee being given the right to refuse. And yet they were still taken from a normal life in order to fulfill a single purpose for someone else for the rest of their lives. Tony could see how someone could find it distasteful, especially a man as calm and measured as Bruce. Hell, he wasn't exactly sure how he felt about it himself.

Until he caught a glimpse of nervous anticipation in those bright blue eyes, and he felt a definite stir of interest at his groin. Alright, so he was weak-willed and a hungry sucker for a strong blond. It wasn't a crime.

"Bruce - King Banner. I would be honored to accept Steven into my entourage." He fixed Steve in a hungry look, and was secretly delighted when his eyes stayed defiant but a flush of pale pink ran over his cheeks. "And into my bed."

Bruce nodded, clearly happy with Tony's acceptance. "Wonderful! Steve, come sit and enjoy dinner with us. Get to know your new king."

Steve bowed and approached, but he was wary as he sat at the nearest position beneath Tony on the dais. Tony watched him carefully, swallowing hard at the sinuous cording and loosening of his muscles as he walked. Hm, curious - he seemed comfortable with his job, and yet not with Tony himself. He made a mental note to find out why that was later. First, dinner.

Then dessert.

 


 


Steve's heart was racing as he was led up to Tony's guest quarters. He'd heard awful things about the Iron King - that he was a tyrant from the west, whose sole goal in his journey across the country was to eliminate anyone who would not treat with him. Of course, he hadn't been violent with Bruce's men; they'd defended themselves, yes, but Tony's generals had called for a cease-fire on both sides and a discussion with the Gammasse commander. Two and a half hours later, Tony was offering Bruce supplies to keep his kingdom secure through the winter...

...and Bruce was offering Tony Steve.

Somehow, Steve doubted a man like Tony treated his servants with the same kindness he treated fellow kings with.

"When did you last bathe?" the escort asked him.

"The moment I was informed of King Stark's arrival," Steve answered. "The Head of Form told me that I was the only Golden Form suitable for a king."

"Quite the honor, that."

"Yes," Steve responded absently, swallowing around a dry lump in his throat. He was ushered through a dark wooden door he hadn't even realized they'd reached and was stunned at the opulence. He'd been kept in a lovely, comfortable room of his own, but this...well, this was a room meant for people far more important than he was. The bed was thrice the size of his, plush and soft, covered with silks and pillows of red and gold and furs of pristine white. A great open archway to the north led to a balcony, the rail of which was covered in pale blue morning glories, and another smaller archway set into the western wall led to a private bathroom hidden behind a heavy red curtain. The tile beneath his feet had been polished to a reflective shine.

So this was how the other half lived.

"Gorgeous," Steve murmured, wandering around and examining things with curiosity bright in his eyes.

His escort cleared their throat. "Freshen up a bit, and don't break anything. Barton will bring supplies before King Stark arrives, so don't concern yourself with that."

Steve didn't need to ask what kind of supplies he meant. He looked out towards the balcony and nodded tersely. "Thank you."

"And do make yourself presentable. We want to make a good impression, do we not?"

Steve frowned slightly at that. Easy for you to say, when you're not the one who's been given to some roving barbarian. He didn't dare say it out loud, though, so he nodded and waved a hand to indicate that he could be left alone. The door clicked behind him, and Steve made his way to the bed, sitting on it and smoothing a hand over the fabric. So soft, so comfortable. Honestly, he wouldn't have minded being taken on that bed.

Hell, if it weren't for that terrifying personality, he wouldn't have even minded being taken by Tony. He was an attractive man with gorgeous brown eyes and a roguish smile that had Steve's pulse picking up every time it was aimed at him.

Unfortunately, logic and libido disagreed on just how attractive the king was.

Before too long, Clint came in with a small mahogany chest that Steve was more than familiar with - it used to belong to Steve, but now he supposed it belonged to Tony. Clint set it on the bedside table, watching Steve out of the corner of his eye. "...you alright?" he asked after a moment.

"Not really," Steve answered.

"I get it. He's handsome, but what kind of man storms every single kingdom around him while pretending to be a good person, right?"

Steve nodded. "You can't tell me he treats his servants with kindness."

"Wouldn't know," Clint answered with a shrug. "He didn't bring any with him." He peeked inside the chest and gave Steve a weak grin, meant to be encouraging. "At least he'll know what you like once he opens this. Maybe he'll catch on and use that knowledge."

"Not helping, Clint." Steve lay back on the bed, trying to calm down. "Could you bring some wine, please? I'm sure St - King Stark would like that as well."

"Sure. And if you need anything...I mean anything. Call for me, okay? I don't care if I get flogged raw, I'll murder the bastard if he actually hurts you."

Steve raised an eyebrow at that, turning his head to look at Clint. "Flogged raw? You mean killed."

"Psh. He's not our king. Why would they execute me for killing a potential enemy?"

"Because he isn't a potential enemy, Clint. He's an ally now." Steve sighed and looked back up at the canopy over the bed. "Look, I'd like to unwind a little before he gets here. Could you - "

"Right, wine. Say no more."

Steve waited patiently, trying to calm his breathing...but unwinding with a glass of wine wasn't in the cards for him, because Clint arrived with a decanter of rich red just as Tony arrived with a wry smile on his face. When Steve sat up, his heart dropped and his cock jolted, and he cursed his body and mind for the decidedly uncomfortable mixed messages.

"Thank you, Barton. I was just going to ask for that."

Clint flicked a worried look at Steve as he set down the wine and backed towards the door. "We aim to make your stay as pleasant as possible," he said, sounding humble...even as he slid out of Tony's line of sight and pointed harshly to him, giving Steve a severe look and drawing his finger across his neck. He mouthed 'I mean it', then vanished from the room, closing the door behing him.

And Steve was alone with his new king.

Tony hummed pleasantly as he removed his cape and boots, craning his neck to look at Steve on the bed. "So...untouched, huh? You can tell me if you cheated, you know - I won't be upset."

Because that doesn't feel like a trap at all. Steve shook his head. "Once we accept our position, Your Grace, we are guarded closely to make sure we're not...devalued. I assure you, the only hands - let alone other parts - I've ever known are mine."

And didn't that make for a lovely mental picture. Tony licked his lips at the thought of lovely, blue-eyed Steve writhing against his own hand as he practiced whatever he'd been taught that day. "Well, let's change that, shall we? Not to seem impatient, but I'd have left the dinner table the moment Bruce offered you if it wouldn't have been rude." It had been far too long since Tony had felt a warm body under his.

Steve banished his fear of the impending pain and slid his clothing slowly off one shoulder, letting it fall until arm and pectoral were exposed. Tony's mouth watered at the sight of that full chest with its pert pink nipple. "Please, Your Grace - don't let me keep you waiting."

Tony undid his shirt as he walked over, sliding onto the bed behind Steve and gripping his shoulders. Steve tensed without meaning to, worry rising in his throat. He'd hoped he'd have more time to prepare, but this was it, wasn't it? His arms tightened as Tony slid nimble fingers down them...

...and suddenly, the hands were gone.

Steve turned to look over his shoulder. "Your Grace?"

"You're nervous," he said plainly. "Aren't you?"

Steve looked away, and now shame joined the nervous fear percolating in his chest. "Your Grace, I - "

"It's Tony. And you don't need to lie to me, Steven." Steve flinched as Tony reached a hand towards his face, but uncoiled when he tucked back a stray lock of hair. "My god. You thought I was going to hit you. What kind of awful stories have they been filling your head with about how you'd be treated?"

Steve looked down, ashamed. He hadn't even been alone with him for ten minutes, and he'd already disappointed him. Not only was he making a mockery of the Golden Forms, but what was Tony going to do with him now? This would only made him angry.

Tony gently encouraged Steve to face him all the way, stroking a hand through his hair, down his neck, down his back until Steve shivered and goosebumps prickled at his skin. "Do you not want this? Is that it?"

I do, you stupid, handsome...but I'm scared you're going to hurt me. "I...that's not it." Steve drew his lower lip between his teeth, shaking his head slightly.

"...I'm such an idiot. It's your first time; of course you're going to be nervous." Tony saw a flicker of acknowledgement in Steve's eyes before he tried to shut it away for the sake of looking unperturbed. "Steven, you don't need to worry about a thing. One of the best parts of having sex, in my experience..."

Tony leaned in and ran his lips up Steve's neck in a trail of soft kisses, tongue peeking out to tease at the pulse points. Steve shivered violently, a soft 'oh' escaping him. He had nothing to compare that feeling to, but he liked it.

And then Tony whispered against his ear, voice heated and heavy with promise. "...is watching as your lover comes apart for you."

Steve felt a much more immediate and far less conflicted throb between his legs. "Oh god," he managed.

There was a soft chuckle. "That's what I like to see," Tony hummed, kneading Steve's shoulders now. Steve leaned into it with a soft noise of pleasure. "You relaxing for me. You liking what I do. But before I get too worked up, I want you to tell me something, Steven."

Steve opened his eyes to blink at Tony curiously. "Yes, Yo - Tony?"

Tony stroked a hand through his hair again. "Do you want this? There's no punishment for saying 'no'. No tricks, no sending you back in shame. I just need to know that you want me."

Steve couldn't believe what he was hearing. His king, his owner, his master...asking him for permission. Of all the things his training had prepared him for, being given the option to refuse to perform had definitely not been one of them. It was more than he'd dared to hope for.

"Steven?"

He smiled, reaching out to slide one hand beneath Tony's open shirt and onto his shoulder. "It's Steve. And I hope you'll be patient if my training hasn't appropriately prepared me."

Tony took a moment to absorb Steve's words...and then he grinned, giving him an excited squeeze. "Oh, Steve. I'm going to make this so fucking good for you." Steve groaned softly at that, and Tony could feel his cock filling at the sound. "First thing's first - let's start off with something you're used to. What do you like, Steve?"

Steve had to admit, he flushed a pale pink at the idea of showing someone else what he liked. "Oh, um...in the chest, over there. There's...some things."

'Some things', that wasn't especially descriptive. Tony leaned over anyway, opening it just a crack and then turning a filthy, hungry look on Steve. "Oh, Steve. You're not going to know what hit you."

Steve believed it. He swallowed nervously, fidgeting as Tony retrieved a bottle of silky, clear golden oil and a long string of round, gleaming beads. Tony lifted them to the light to examine the swirled, circular blue-green patterns on each finely polished stone. They were pretty to look at...and then Tony remembered that these had already been inside of Steve, and he looked over at him with a heavy desire in his eyes.

"You like these, then?"

Steve nodded, though he couldn't look Tony in the eye while he was holding those up. "Yeah. The Head of Form said they'd help me get used to things. She wasn't wrong."

"And the oil?" Tony asked, uncapping it to sniff. It was a mild, pleasant smell - almost floral.

"It warms up," Steve admitted, which did nothing to lessen his embarrassment.

"Does it, now? Well, I guess when the alternative is cold stone..." Tony brushed one hand over Steve's arm, causing the rubies to peel off of the wax and fall away. "Mm. Are those going to get in the way?"

"Not if I take them off." Steve pulled his silks down further, then reached up to fondle his own bare chest. Tony watched with a lustful groan as Steve squeezed, taunting and teasing, fingertips grazing at the lines that defined his muscles. "At your command, Your G - Tony."

Tony nodded. "Definitely. Everything, off."

Glittering red stones clattered to the ground with delicate, glassy noises as Steve slid free of his clothing. Tony had to resist the urge to pull him over and tear him out of them, especially as the wax melted into a soft, creamy oil that made Steve's skin shine in the dying light. He hesitated before standing and running his hands down his legs to remove the last of it, leaving him completely naked under Tony's gaze. Naked and half-hard.

"Fuck," Tony breathed. "You're gorgeous."

Steve smiled at that. "Thank you. I think you're - "

"No compliments for me, not just yet." Tony stood and started undressing, back to Steve. He wore a look of anticipation when he glanced at Steve over his shoulder. "You can lavish whatever you like on me once you're used to the bedroom. For now...mmh. Let me do some lavishing."

Steve was absolutely floored. He was trying not to show it, but god, Tony had proved himself completely different from what he'd been expecting, and he'd done it so fast it had damn near given him whiplash. "Okay," he managed in a quiet tone.

"Lie back for me, baby."

"Okay," Steve answered again, cock firming under that gaze that Tony just couldn't seem to pry away. He settled himself on the bed, tucking his arms behind his head, drawing his legs up and letting his knees fall slightly open. He could feel the cool air ghosting between his legs, prickling his thighs with goosebumps.

Tony turned to face him once he was naked, and there was yet another surprise - Tony was scarred, badly. In the center of his chest was a ragged, red scar that couldn't have been more than a year healed, and it looked as though someone had tried to tear Tony's heart out of his chest with their bare hands. There were other, minor scars scratched into him as well, but that one was awful, and it took all of Steve's focus not to stare.

Tony knew. He brushed a hand over it as if trying to dust it away. "Yeah, it's not my prettiest body part. Are you going to be alright?"

"Yes." It wasn't a lie; Steve could have been stuck with a hideous owner, or worse. Most of his concern, once the initial shock wore off, was for Tony. "Are you?"

"It's healed now. Don't worry your pretty head." Tony held up the beads as he settled between Steve's thighs, knees tucked against that taut-muscled backside of his. That had Steve thinking about other things quickly enough, and when Tony dragged the tip of one finger along the underside of Steve's arousal, he was rewarded with a heavy groan and an extremely satisfying twitch of Steve's thighs. "Damn, I can't wait to see how you react when I'm doing more than just teasing. You need fingers first, or will you be good with these?"

"I can take it. Please," Steve said, the apple of his throat bobbing as he swallowed. "Please, please - "

"Don't need to ask me twice," Tony assured him, slicking the swirled green beads with that oil Steve liked so much. It ran down in thin, clear lines, dripping down between the join of Steve's thigh. He lowered the beads down, rubbing the first gently down the cleft, against Steve's fluttering hole.

Steve's toes curled into the furs. "Tony..!"

"I don't know what I did to deserve a gorgeous thing like you," Tony hummed pleasantly, nudging gently at first, then pressing harder and watching as the first bead slipped inside of Steve. Steve jolted, not used to someone else having control over his pleasure. "So sensitive - I could get drunk just watching you like this." The words had exactly the effect Tony was hoping for. A bright red flush ran over Steve's cheeks, all the way to his neck, and damn if it wasn't the sweetest thing to look at.

Tony fed the beads in one by one, noting every single reaction Steve had. It wasn't difficult; Tony would have been livid if he'd been expected to pay attention to anything else. By the time he'd reached the end of the string, Steve's muscles were corded into hard lines and his breath was coming in rapid pants. Tony wanted to be inside Steve so badly...mostly to see how those reactions would change when those beads were replaced with a warm, real cock and he had two hundred-something pounds of hungry, pleasure-drunk man pinning him in place.

"Tony, god...is that all of them?" Steve asked, voice shaking.

"Yeah. That's all of them." Tony rubbed his thumb gently over Steve's slicked hole, earning him a small, sordid noise. "You feeling good?"

Steve nodded, finally steadying his breath. "It's...different. Someone else doing it to you. I thought it would feel the same."

Tony grinned at that. How did a man as sturdy and handsome as this manage to be adorable too? "If you think that's the most surprising thing you're going to experience tonight, I'm about to break you. In the best of ways, I promise."

Steve looked up at Tony through wide-blown pupils, and somehow, the cheeky bastard managed a grin. "Please, my king - surprise me."

God, he was good. Tony made a rough, demanding noise from deep in his chest and all but fell on top of Steve, sliding their lips together and groaning into his mouth. Steve rolled up against him, soft and experimental, and ultimately far too interested in the kiss - a simple, sweet part of intimacy; why did this overwhelm him so much more than the beads? - to try to coax Tony any further. There was a sharp taste to him, something foreign and bitter, and Steve loved it.

When Tony pulled back for air, Steve stroked a hand up his face and through his hair without even thinking about it. Tony rewarded the gesture by pulling out two beads...and then pushing them back in, resulting in a shudder that ran up Steve's spine. The noise that escaped him was sweet enough that Tony decided to repeat the process with the last bead, pushing and pulling gently in and out.

Steve was rocking into Tony's motions before too long, eyelids fluttering. He had one hand braced against the headboard and another gripping Tony tight, moans falling freely as Tony fucked him with the beads. He felt good, amazing, better than he ever had in his life...

...and then one by one, Tony pulled them all out and watched Steve's body flutter and clench with a soft, approving groan. Steve's groan was less apporoving, and far more confused.

"Wh - why?" he asked, frowning.

"Because I'm nowhere near done making you feel good. And you're not coming until you've got my cock in you."

Steve flushed red up to his ears. "Oh god."

"Before that, though, there's a hell of a lot more I want to teach you. You're okay with that?"

"God, yeah." Steve reached up and cupped either side of Tony's face, running his fingertips along the stubble. "What do you want me to do for you, Tony?"

Tony's blood sang at the possibilities. A man untouched and eager to please; in what filthy ways could he break this sweet thing in? Of course he wanted to fuck him properly, but then they'd both come and he'd have to wait another couple hours before they could go again...damn it, this shouldn't have been such a hard choice. Did other recipients pore endlessly over the possibilities held by their Forms, Tony wondered?

Eventually, he settled on the idea of something blatantly self-indulgent. "How much experience do you have with your mouth?" he asked.

"Oh, um...not a lot." Steve looked at the box. "The things in there are what I'm best with. The toys and practice aides never really felt...natural."

"Are you adverse to the idea of trying with the real thing?"

Steve swelled once more with the reminder that his master cared deeply about what he wanted, and wanted him to enjoy himself in this. Steve could feel his cheeks flushing yet again as he shook his head. "No, I wouldn't mind. But I - well, I don't think I'll be very good. Not at first."

He really was too sweet. If Tony had been a lesser man, he'd have put Steve up against the wall and fucked him raw, hard, immediately - just to watch him fall apart. What a man like that wouldn't look like, eyes glazed from overstimulated bliss, weak-kneed and streaked in his own come...Tony gave a soft groan and dropped his mouth to kiss along Steve's skin some more. He left his lips open and wanting, instead sucking at the places where rubies had glittered not a half-hour ago. The taste of the oil lingered on his skin, sweet and sharp...and when he dropped even lower and flicked his tongue over one soft pink nipple, he had the distinct mental image of rubbing himself off between Steve's strong, full pectorals.

So many things to look forward to.

"I'm gonna have to stop myself before I get carried away," Tony murmured, sitting up and letting Steve reposition himself so that he was comfortable. "You don't know what you do to me, damn it."

"I'm sorry," Steve said humbly.

"Don't be. My libido hasn't been this awake in a long time." Tony gave one of Steve's thighs a reassuring squeeze. "You up for this, baby? Because I can figure out something else to teach you."

By way of an answer, Steve let his lips drift over Tony's, then down his neck, tickling the soft hairs that marked the edge of his beard...then down further, over that mangled dark scar like it wasn't even there, and further with the heat of his breath ghosting over Tony's navel. Tony actually went a bit dizzy when Steve's chin bumped against the firmness of his cock, and Steve jumped slightly. He looked up at Tony through nervous, blown blue eyes. "H-How do I start?" he asked, his voice only barely betraying how nervous he really was.

Tony stroked a hand through his hair. "Lick, kiss, just suck gently. Whatever you're comfortable with for now."

There was a tense moment as Steve considered the limits of his own comfort, and Tony ran soothing fingers over his skin. He hoped Steve understood the depths of his desire for him to enjoy himself - if he decided then and there that he wasn't comfortable with anything, Tony would have let him pull back up and he'd have shown him how good someone's mouth could feel. Steve would no doubt be gorgeous and squirmy with a head between his thighs...

...but then Steve licked a nervous stripe up the underside of his cock, and Tony could feel his body trying to buckle down to the bed. How could one single lick feel so fucking good?

Steve gave a tiny grin at the reaction, and he licked again, pressing the tip of his tongue gently into the ridges and veins. When his lips touched the musky skin there instead, he sucked softly and at places he knew felt good. He'd rubbed oiled fingers there on himself, so surely having someone kiss them would feel just as good?

Or better. Tony's head had fallen back and he was making steady noises of pleasure now. Steve's confidence grew with each thick, heavy moan; making Tony's hips roll and shake minutely with every touch of his lips and tongue was intoxicating. He was in control of such a powerful man; owning his pleasure and offering it back on his own terms...god, so good. So, so good. Emboldened, Steve slid his mouth up, sealing his lips gently over the crown of Tony's cock and bobbing his head ever-so-slightly.

"Oh fuck, Steve - " Tony hissed, and Steve could feel his cock jolt against his lips. He knew Tony wanted to bed him properly, but maybe...well, he could always pull Steve back if he was going to come, right? Besides, he hadn't felt any pleasure other than what Steve had given him yet. No warm, rolling beads inside of him.

And Tony seemed anxious to keep going. "Fuck, baby, that's - that's so - you think you can take the whole thing?"

Steve let out a soft whine at the thought, though he didn't pull back to speak. That was...a lot to take in. Particularly with no practice.

Tony stroked his hair. "You don't have to. But I won't rush you if you wanna try; I'll teach you how - how, god, god, that's - " Steve had resumed moving, sinking down over Tony's length as far as he dared, and Tony's eyelids fluttered as his train of thought vanished entirely. "J-Just...give my, uh, my thighs a squeeze. If you wa...want...um, advice."

Steve would have grinned if he hadn't been busy. Hearing regal, well-spoken Tony devolve to stumbling over his words and slurring them together was very nice indeed. He contentedly devoted himself to just getting used to the feeling in his mouth for a while, stroking the flat of his tongue up as much as he could reach. He experimented, hollowing his cheeks at varying strengths until he found the one that made Tony's toes curl and his shoulders bow back. He liked that - watching from the front as Tony's shoulder blades tried to meet in the middle. His chest pushed out and the ridges of his abdomen twitched as he fought against losing any semblance of self-control he had left...

...and then he felt strong, nervous hands grip his thighs, and Tony thought it was a miracle he didn't just die right there and then.

"You're so fucking perfect," Tony panted, forcing his own eyes open and stroking Steve's hair. "So fucking gorgeous. You look so damn good like that, Steve, you don't even know." He was babbling, slurring and stumbling again, so he swallowed hard and tried to collect his thoughts. "Just - just go as far as you can for now, and get used to the feeling."

That was it? Hell, steve had been encouraging himself to do that already. He sank down over the first two inches, three, four...then he paused, the vibrations from his moaning shivering up through Tony's shaft. Tony's hips twitched minutely as he stifled the urge to indulge in some senseless and self-indulgent rutting. He wouldn't do that to Steve, not without a lot more practice.

Steve relaxed for a moment, letting himself unwind, scenting the heady musk of a king so hard it was a miracle he was still conscious. He massaged Tony's thighs in the meantime, fingertips tickling at the soft hairs, edging higher and higher with vague plans in mind.

Tony gently grabbed one hand. "No, not this time. I don't know if you plan on fingering me or rolling my balls, but either way, I'll come way too fast." Steve wished he could have chuckled. "Just go a little further when you're ready. Whatever you can take. I won't do anything to rush you."

Simple enough, Steve thought to himself as he let himself further down. He wondered if the fact that he believed and trusted Tony's reassurance that there was no rush made it easier - his throat softened easier now, making it easier for him to move more, and more. He rested thrice more...

...and then Tony was making the most undignified, unkingly noises of pleasure, and his knuckles were clenched white in the bedsheets. Steve couldn't fathom what was so good until his nose met the dark thatch of curls that ran beneath Tony's navel. His eyes were misted from effort, the pressure pushing beads of wetness to his lashes. But he'd done it; he'd fucking done it and Tony looked like he was in a whole other world.

But now what? There was no way Steve could go back to moving his head like he had before; the effort just to get here had been too great. It would undo all his hard work. He could feel saliva pooling at the corners of his mouth, and careful to keep his teeth away, he went to swallow it back.

Tony's eyes shot open and every muscle went rigid. "God fuck, fuck - "

Oh.

"D - Don't do - jeez, Steve, I figured I'd have to teach...forget it, forget it, just - " Tony scrubbed a hand over his face. "Pull off if it gets too difficult. I still need to oil you up and fuck you right, after all."

Steve groaned at the thought, and one of the hands that had tangled into the sheets went back to Steve's hair. His scalp stung uncomfortably until Tony remembered to relax his grip. Okay, so...moaning and roughened attempts to swallow. He could do that.

Steve set about his work with the devotion of an eager student, making sure his sounds either started in or ended up at the back of his throat. Every time he sucked, he could feel the muscles of Tony's abdomen tighten into sheets of stone, and a rough, unfettered moan escaped him. Tony made the loveliest sounds. Drawing them from him was pride and pleasure all in one, and once he'd figured out how, Steve was happy to do it again and again, over and over until they melted together into a constant litany of wordless praise.

Inexperience won out after a while, though, sending an aching pang through Steve's jaw any time he tried to move his tongue, and Steve pulled back with a soft, wet pop. Tony watched him move, reaching down to seize Steve's jaw in one hand once his cock was free. There was a wild look in those brown eyes, and as he massaged Steve's sore jaw, he thought vividly about coming across those full pink lips, over those strong cheeks and chin...he'd look so good. He'd look filthy and used and Tony would know it was him, all him. No one else had ever or would ever touch Steve. He'd fucking kill them for trying.

"...Your Grace?" Steve ventured, not exactly sure what that feral, possessive look meant for him.

Tony blinked and the look vanished. "Hm? It's Tony, remember?"

Steve relaxed into his hand. "Sorry. I wasn't sure - you seemed a bit lost there."

"You'd be surprised, the kind of things you make a man like me feel," Tony all but growled at him, hooking his hands around Steve's torso and pulling him up into a kiss. Steve seemed surprised at that, but was more than happy to lean into Tony, crushing their lips together in earnest. Tony loved how he kissed. Loved how eager he was, and that he could taste himself on Steve's tongue now.

He pulled back and murmured against Steve's lips, not wanting to actually give the kiss a real break, "As much as I want to try everything with you tonight, I was never blessed with an overabundance of patience."

"Me neither," Steve returned, accidentally nipping Tony's lip in the process. The noise he made wasn't one of pain.

"I think I'm done with foreplay, then." When Steve nodded, Tony reached blindly for the oil from earlier. "Fingers. How many are you used to? I mean, yours, obviously."

"Uh, two. It's not the easiest angle..."

"Tell me about it," Tony muttered, all too familiar with the problem. "Alright. Fingers first."

Steve gave a noise of protest. "I thought you said we were done with foreplay."

Good sweet damn, that eagerness was going to be the death of him. Tony licked his lips and reminded himself that pain was not sexy - not that kind, anyway. "We are. But this part, it's kind of essential. You ever get overeager with your toybox? Try too much at once?"

Steve's face turned red at the question; the only person who'd ever asked him something like that was his teacher. The same teacher who never laid a hand on him, who told him things in a clinical, detached voice, who had never possessed that hungry look in his eyes that made Steve feel naked long before his clothes had ever come off.

Still, he wasn't about to lie. "Um...yes."

"Then you know how quickly it kills the mood." Tony slid gentle hands down Steve's body, encouraging him onto his back. "Don't worry. I promise not to take too long; I don't think I could wait even if I wanted to."

Tony slicked his fingers with the amber oil and rubbed gently over Steve, feeling the residual oil from earlier...apparently for slightly too long, because Steve gave him a smirk that bordered on insubordinate. Tony blinked in surprise when Steve reached down to cup his hand, following the gentle thrusting of his finger.

"You don't need to treat me like I'm gonna break, you know," he said, secretly delighted when Tony gave a stunned blink. It was nice to turn the tables on him, see him be the one who was plasantly surprised.

"I'm just, uh - given your level of experience, I'd rather play it safe." He could feel the warmth of Steve's hand on his, the way Steve's index finger nudged at his own hole every time Tony's finger went deep.

"And I appreciate that. More than you know." The warning that his first partner had no requirement to treat him gently had been a looming one, and Steve's delight constantly renewed itself every time Tony coaxed those sparking shots of pleasure from him. "But god, Tony, I'm so..."

Tony swallowed hard, licking his lips. "You wanna show me how you do it, then? I think I can manage once you show me the ropes."

And just like that, the ball was back in his court. Steve's body was flushed as he spread his legs, crooking his knees at Tony's sides. He whined quietly as Tony's finger left him...and louder as he pushed two of his own in, knuckles crooked gently against his balls. Tony gave himself a few lazy strokes, not wanting to spoil himself for Steve but unable to just watch passively as Steve's fingers went faster and with increasing certainty. He could see Steve's body slacken as he adjusted, and when he took over with three, then four, he nearly passed out to think that soon that tight warmth would be around something far more satisying than his hand.

It only took a few minutes, and arbitrarily, Tony was something close to disappointed when he eased his fingers out. Steve didn't seem much inclined to keep waiting, though; the blue of his eyes was misty and his chest heaved with need. Far more interesting to Tony at that moment was the way his cock swayed wet and heavy between his legs, twitching hard when Tony's fingers grazed his prostate on their withdrawal.

"Tony, please," Steve all but keened. "I'm ready, please, I'm ready - "

"Sounds like it. But just to be safe..." Tony was immensely satisfied with how loudly Steve gasped when he leaned down and swiped his tongue between those muscled, pale cheeks. As soon as the tension drained from Steve's body, he slid inside, relishing the heavy, lust-drunk moan that roiled out of Steve. He pulled back and nuzzled the soft side of Steve's knee before murmuring, "Yeah, feels good. You're definitely ready."

Steve nodded, chest heaving, and his breath escaped him in a heady rush as the head of Tony's cock rubbed against him, careful and testing...and then Tony's hips rolled down, slow and steady, and the gentle stretch and sudden fill was so much more than Steve had ever felt. Warm and firm, but with a give he was completely unused to; Steve's back was bowing up before he even realized Tony had moved his hands to cradle it.

"Are you alright, baby?"

Steve nodded, and much to Tony's delight, rocked against him in an experimental manner, each roll growing more intense. Tony wasn't about to make him do all the work, though; after a few more moments of that glorious canting, Tony surprised Steve by dropping his weight onto him, filling him in one smooth stroke. Steve's skin was warm against his, snug, and Tony cursed under his breath. He didn't want to thrust just yet; he wanted to give Steve the power. He deserved it. Years of waiting for a man who might not have even been good enough to treat him right, and -

"Tony, damn it, move."

Fucking hell. Tony thrust down a few times, careful until he found what Steve liked, and god that man could take it. Tony's hips snapped audibly, if somewhat quietly, against Steve's thighs and Steve bucked up to meet him with hard-fisted pleasure. There were perhaps thirty seconds - Tony wasn't exactly counting - of adjustment and then Steve bucked up in a rhythm, a fucking rhythm like he'd been doing it his whole life. His hair, so neat and tidy before, had shaken from its style and what wasn't curled against the faint-dewed sweat of his forehead stuck up in soft blond peaks that were far too much fun to run his fingers through.

Though Steve's eyes mostly remained closed, every now and then his eyes would peek open. Those wide, dark pupils always sought Tony's out, holding eye contact for the briefest of moments before Steve's cheeks heated and he turned his head sideways, eyes screwing shut again. It may have even been cute if Tony couldn't feel the friction building his pleasure like a bonfire, every twitch of Steve's muscles bare and perfect against him. And the pleasure was most certainly mutual - Steve's cock bobbed against his belly with each thrust, precome smearing in thick stripes over his skin. Tony longed to taste him, take him down all the way like Steve had for him, and on his first try, fuck, but he just wasn't that flexible. Next time, he swore in his mind. Next time, Steve, I'm gonna make you fall apart for me. I want to see your face when it's all about you, just you.

"You good?" Tony asked between motions, his voice strained and breathy.

"I - I, oh god, Tony, feels like - "

How he understood what Steve was getting at, he had no idea. But one hand left Steve's back without another question, tracing quickly down his thigh and wrapping around his cock. Steve jolted at the touch, and Tony watched with unashamed hunger as he ran his thumb up the shaft and the heavy bead of fluid at the tip welled up, ran down and Tony's hand. Steve almost wished he'd kept his eyes closed; when he caught the way Tony looked at him, he felt filthy and gorgeous. He shivered violently, which made Tony groan and grind down a bit harder. Steve felt dizzy; this had been worth the wait, worth every night spent squirming down on his fingers and wondering what it would feel like when someone else did it.

"Tony, I'm so - so close, j-just a little faster," Steve all but begged, and although Tony could have gone longer, the moment he heard that spill from those full pink lips he was suddenly much closer than he thought. Tony was gripped with a sudden craving, a need to know what Steve felt like when he came around someone, and he was going to make sure he found out tonight. Tony thumbed over his head, pressing gently into the tip and drawing at that constant stream of precome, rolling his hips just right...

...and then Tony wasn't sure he had enough brainpower left to register what Steve felt like on his cock, because that man was fucking gorgeous when he came. His motions stuttered, fell off, and he was gripping the sheets with a hoarse, wordless moan, semen spilling over Tony's fingers and his chest. Tony wasn't sure which he surrendered to, the rhythmic rolling of Steve's muscles or the look in his eyes when he finally met Tony's again and held them this time. Whichever it was, though, Tony was loud and rough when he finished, fingers digging into Steve's hips, holding him close for each fading pump of his hips until he finally fell exhausted to the side of him.

Tony was panting for breath when he heard Steve chuckle. He opened one eye and peeked over at him. "What?" he asked.

"Isn't that supposed to be me?" Steve asked, although he sounded pretty winded himself. "All tired and breathless after my first time?"

"Oh, I'll get you there," Tony assured him, and he was delighted to see that modest flush back on Steve's face. "Y'know, for such a big man, you sure blush easily."

"And for such a noble king, you sure enjoy immoral pasttimes," Steve teased right back.

"Immoral? Nothing about this is immoral," Tony countered, finally turning on his side to give Steve his full attention. "Maybe if I was planning on keeping you like this all the time. But when we get back to Iron Kingdom, I'm going to immediately outfit you with your own place to live, a new wardrobe, a horse of your own. As much as I love the idea of having you at my beck and call all the time, I'd much prefer you to be...y'know. Your own man."

Steve blinked at him uncertainly. "...but you still want me as a sex slave," he said, though he didn't sound quite sure. "If you didn't, you wouldn't have brought me to bed tonight."

"Look, I never said I wasn't selfish. But have you looked in a mirror lately? The only people who don't want to sleep with you are blind or stupid." Tony swallowed. "But why do you think I waited for your consent? I'm not in the habit of forcing people to be with me, Steve. Not in any context. And if you want to use that horse to ride away and hammer out a name for yourself all on your own, I'll - "

"Tony, I couldn't." Steve didn't look sad as he said it. He looked like he was overflowing with warmth, happy enough to float off of the bed. "I couldn't leave you. I'd spend half my time wondering how you were doing."

Tony wished he didn't smile so widely at that. "You're just saying that because I just got through making you orgasm."

"No, I'm saying that because I like you. You're a good man. If you weren't, I'd have told you to find somewhere else to sleep when you gave me that choice." Steve gave Tony's ribs a gentle poke, and Tony shifted with a strange noise that sounded an awful lot like he was trying not to laugh. "Maybe...maybe we can do things besides have sex, too. Would that be okay?"

Courtship. Somehow, this man had just asked him to a night at the opera or a private dinner, and damn if Tony didn't want to take him up on it. He could hear the people whispering about them already, as their king poured wine for the slave he'd been given in Gammasse, and took him riding on Sundays, and set up blankets in the great glass observatory just so they could watch the stars all night.

But there were no laws against it.

And it could be good.

"It could be so good," Tony whispered.

"What?" Steve asked.

Tony met Steve's eyes and offered him a smile - and for the first time in a long time, Steve felt bonelessly, blissfully content with the direction his life had gone in. "You're going to be the first person I ever stay with after I have sex with them, you know."

"Wow. I must be something special," Steve chuckled.

He was joking, but Tony had to bite back the urge to tell him just how right he was.