The whole building is his space, and he could easily hold that over them if he wanted to. He never does, though. Tony is ridiculously generous with what he has; Steve doesn't comment on it, but he's noticed. He's also noticed how people react to that generosity, some with gratitude, some with a cynicism that almost borders on contempt, wondering aloud if throwing his money around makes Tony's conscience let him sleep at night.
Even Steve wouldn't be surprised if it was at least partly pathological, the way Tony gives and gives and gives. Still, it's not fair to believe he's all flash and no substance. The flash, Steve thinks, is more or less the same thing as his own red, white and blue uniform. A symbol to inspire, or a diversion to draw attention from the man underneath it. He never apologized for the fight he and Tony had in SHIELD's helicarrier when they were first getting to know one another against the backdrop of potential alien apocalypse. He regrets it, though, what he said and why he said it.
Right now what he says, mildly, is: "Well, I guess that's fair. Any rules other than spontaneity?"
He just happens to really like having his hair pulled, too, so when he tugs back, Steve makes a strangled little growl of approval, letting him guide his head back. His pupils are a little wider than usual, eyes soft and hazy and bright with desire, and he looks back at Tony with serene interest. His hands move up his back and down again, and he returns the smile he gets with a grin of his own, a burst of warmth without reservation.
This time when he moves into the kiss, he does his best to insinuate his body in between Tony's knees, both arms wrapping around his back. Doesn't really matter where they're going with this, or at what speed, but for the moment, he does want to be as close as he can get.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2017-06-17 07:25 am (UTC)Even Steve wouldn't be surprised if it was at least partly pathological, the way Tony gives and gives and gives. Still, it's not fair to believe he's all flash and no substance. The flash, Steve thinks, is more or less the same thing as his own red, white and blue uniform. A symbol to inspire, or a diversion to draw attention from the man underneath it. He never apologized for the fight he and Tony had in SHIELD's helicarrier when they were first getting to know one another against the backdrop of potential alien apocalypse. He regrets it, though, what he said and why he said it.
Right now what he says, mildly, is: "Well, I guess that's fair. Any rules other than spontaneity?"
He just happens to really like having his hair pulled, too, so when he tugs back, Steve makes a strangled little growl of approval, letting him guide his head back. His pupils are a little wider than usual, eyes soft and hazy and bright with desire, and he looks back at Tony with serene interest. His hands move up his back and down again, and he returns the smile he gets with a grin of his own, a burst of warmth without reservation.
This time when he moves into the kiss, he does his best to insinuate his body in between Tony's knees, both arms wrapping around his back. Doesn't really matter where they're going with this, or at what speed, but for the moment, he does want to be as close as he can get.