shieldborne | Negotiations (for buildsomething)

Well that might be a first. Tony's gotten plenty of of compliments on the things he makes, not not necessarily on the fact that he makes them. It is a very Steve thing, though, and Tony can't help but laugh.

"I'll keep that in mind." It's dry, but there's a heat still in his voice that he makes no attempt to hide. He's pretty sure they're both on the same page by now. "So you've got a thing for me working, huh? I can roll with that." Actually, it makes their current location pretty perfect. And here he was going to suggest they move this.

His hands slowly slide lower, fingers tracing over his chest and down his stomach like they're mapping the lines of muscle. He keeps the touch light, teasing, watching Steve's face the whole time.

"You can do too many things to be real," he tells him half playful, half plaintive. "It's not fair to the rest of us. Maybe I'm a little jealous."

His hands move up to run through Tony's hair, but he's sinking into slightly more passive behavior than he has thus far, focusing on the feel of what's happening to him instead of trying to do. "But yeah. I do. Like that."

His breathing is picking up to the point where the rise and fall of his chest is visible beneath Tony's hands. This is a good way to figure out the sensitive spots on his torso, for certain. His lashes flutter as fingertips brush his upper flanks as if it's just a bit ticklish, and then his jaw drops a bit further as Tony moves down his abdomen, and he runs his tongue over his lower lip.

As much as Tony enjoys having his hair played with, he can't help but tip his head back a little to arch an eyebrow at him. "Seriously? This from the actual peak of human perfection?" It doesn't stop him from continuing to run his hands down Steve's stomach, but really.

Though it's a little hard to keep track of the conversation if Steve is going to keep looking that gorgeous. Tony's eyes track down to his mouth as he licks his lip and he feels himself start to lean in to taste himself when his fingers suddenly hit the waistband of Steve's pants.

He pauses, then makes himself take a breath and lean back. His brain is going a little fuzzy with all the touching, and he shakes his head slightly to clear it. He needs to get this out first. "If you want to stop things for the moment, let me know now?"

"Hah," Steve doesn't open his eyes, but the curl of his lips says something more self-deprecating than playful. "You can address those compliments to Dr. Erskine's estate. I'm just maintaining what I was given custody of."

That could sound downright bitter if his tone wasn't so soft and matter-of-fact. He is, of course, assuming Tony is only referring to his physical appearance and stamina. He makes a soft grunt of restless pleasure when Tony's fingers reach his waistband, eyes opening again. They're focused again, bright and determined and hungry.

"Don't wanna stop," he says, breathy and soft, and leaning into him. "But tell me you got a way to lock the doors?"

Tony gives him a look for that, but since Steve's eyes are closed it's a fairly mood point. The rest of what he says makes for a much better distraction anyway, and by the time Steve's eyes open again, Tony is all but smirking at him.

"Remember who you're talking to?" One hand curves around Steve's side while the other deftly flicks open the button on his pants without Tony breaking eye contact. "The better question is who I'm willing to unlock it for."

Steve's pupils are blown, black crowding out blue. He puts his hands on the table on either side of Tony's hips, just holding on for the moment, watching his face. His breath hitches when Tony flicks open the button, hips giving just the slightest twitch, beyond his conscious control.

"So, are you saying I should be grateful you let me in?" He lets his forehead rest on Tony's shoulder for a moment, nuzzling the crook of his neck. "Or that I have to sweet-talk you into letting me back out, if I ever want to leave?"

Shiver. Is this still idle banter, or the start of a more serious game? Either way, Steve is interested.

"Oh yes," Tony says with great solemnity. "Welcome to my parlor." He hums a little as Steve leans in against him, the hand on his side slipping around to press against the small of Steve's back.

He could get used to this, the weight of someone bigger against him. It could feel like he's being crowded, but it's Steve. Like the other night when he just knew that Steve was safe. He's in as close to his right mind as he ever gets now, and all of it feels perfectly comfortable.

Not that it stops him from slipping his fingers into the open vee of Steve's pants to find more heat instead.

Both, then! Steve breaks into a grin that's part amusement and part pleasure. "Oh," is all he says at first, because Tony's hand on the small of his back sends a funny little thrill up his spine.

Then, of course, there's those clever fingers creeping down the front of his jeans. That actually makes him freeze in place for a second, afraid he'll discourage the touch if he squirms too much. It's too much and not enough, and his nerve endings are already clamoring for more, from his belly all the way down to his toes.

"Tony," he scolds breathily, "You're just gonna start feeling me up without letting me take any of your clothes off first?"

"Hey. You didn't ask," Tony says, as reasonably as he can for having his hand down Steve's pants. Also it means he'd have to let go, which seems like a shame. But, well. Fair's fair.

With a deeply overdramatic sigh, he pulls both his hands away and nudges Steve back just far enough to give him room to tug his shirt off and toss it somewhere. He's well past the point of feeling self conscious about the scars decorating his chest, but at the moment Tony's a lot more interested in getting his hands back on Steve than in showing off.

"Better?" He asks with a flash of a grin as he reaches for him, tugging Steve back in against him. And oh, hey. Skin-on-skin. That is better. "Now where were we?"

"I'm still adjusting to your lack of rules," Steve tells him, choking back a little moan as he pulls his hands away. No one has the dexterity to feel a guy up and undress at the same time, but he can't help but regret the break in the fondling.

He gives him room obligingly, though, and watches. He's seen some of those scars before, and of course the blue glow of the reactor is visible through Tony's clothes more often than not. Steve can't help but feel much the same about Tony's body as he does about his hands. This is a man who doesn't have to put his life on the line, and even the suit he wears can't protect him from all the danger he throws himself into.

"Better," he says softly, warmly. And when Tony pulls him in closer he goes eagerly, curling around him with a whimper.

Yes. Skin-on-skin. It's a little intoxicating.

Edited 2017-06-28 03:21 (UTC)

Tony can't help but laugh as he wraps an arm back around him. He hasn't missed the fact that Steve's back is apparently sensitive, and it's not like he's going to complain about getting as much contact as possible. His fingers trace absent patterns low on his spine, and Tony smiles.

"You're good for the ego," he murmurs, voice warm, "you know that?" And like a reward, he slides his free hand back into Steve's open pants to cup over the length of him.

His back and his chest are his major weak points, the former slightly more than the latter. It might be psychological; his spine and his heart were very real frail points in his body before Project Rebirth shaped him into what he is now. Something in him remembers.

His breathing is deep, picking up gradually, and he gives a little twitch when Tony hits a ticklish spot on his spine, grinning against his neck. His own hands sweep up and down Tony's back and sides, smoothing and exploring. "What's that s'posed to mean? Good for the ego."

He could tell Tony his ego doesn't need stroking, but he definitely doesn't want to discourage him from what he seems to be up to. He gasps at the much-needed pressure against his groin, nods against his neck, and curls his hands against Tony's hips. "...fuck, Tony. Yeah. That's good. More?"

He nips his neck and shoulder again, having been given greater access, and he's a little more forceful this time, sucking small bruises into his skin.

He wants to laugh again, but it comes out more as a moan as Steve starts in on his neck. Tony gives a little shiver of his own at every bite and tips his head back, eyes sliding closed. Trust Steve to be able to zero in on his sensitive spots just as easily.

Not that it stops Tony's hand from moving, tracing almost too lightly over the warm, hard line of Steve's cock. He gives him as much contact as he can, moulding his hand around him as it slides gently up and down.

"What else do you want, hm?" It's low and teasing and all heat.

Oh, there we go. It's not the same vulnerability that Steve was enjoying the night before, but it's still a show of softness, of a kind. Between that and the almost-tease of Tony's hand on Steve's erection, he's getting quite eager, quite quickly.

He also seems interested in exploring as much of Tony's exposed skin as possible, with his mouth. His attention is getting more determined, leaving a few little bite marks here and there, moving up his throat, nuzzling and nibbling at his ears, and then back down to his chest. His breath is hot and light and shallow.

"Too many things," he answers, softly, breathily, on the edge of hearing. "Want to suck you and then bend you over the table; but I want you to keep stroking me like that, too. Or maybe have you sit in my lap...what about you, hm? You want more, too? Want me?"

The sound Tony makes is a low hum of agreement, starting deep in his throat. He makes himself lift his head back up, his own dark eyes gone completely black when he opens them to grin at Steve.

"I'll take one of everything," he says, voice roughening under all the attention. And, frankly, just having Steve talk dirty at him would get him plenty going all on it's own. He's going to have to explore that some time. "But if you're asking specifics, it would be a shame not to get my mouth on you."

The hand on his cock squeezes gently, just to make the point extra clear. Tony likes to be direct, occasionally. "We'll just have to make a list and work our way through it." They both do seem to like lists, after all.

Dirty talk isn't exactly Steve's forte, and he'd be the first to admit it, but he's not above giving it a whirl, and when he sees the look in Tony's eyes, he's glad he did. God, but he loves the way he's looking at him right now. Maybe Steve craves attention, in his own way; being admired as Captain America doesn't do much for him, but having Tony stare him down like he wants to devour him whole, oh, that's more than good. His cock twitches under the touch he's getting, and he inhales sharply through his teeth at the extra pressure.

"Item one on the list is gonna be clothes off," he asserts, and moves to finish the process Tony has begun, kicking off his shoes and sliding pants and underwear down his hips and off. Unlike with his shirt, he doesn't even consider trying to fold his pants, and that says something about his state of mind.

He's certainly...proportionate. Although Tony has no doubt figured that out by touch at this point. Once undressed, Steve seems a little emboldened, reaching to slide his hands up Tony's thighs and to his button and zip. "Y'got an oral fixation, Tony?" He teases faintly, voice husky. "I'm not too much of a gentleman to say yes to a blow job."

"I'd hope not," Tony says in a tone that's nearly a purr, eyes glinting. Now that there are no clothes in the way, he wraps his hand entirely around Steve's cock and gives it one long stroke. He can't help wanting to tease. In part because they have the time and he can, but Tony's not going to deny that there's something incendiary about the idea of getting this man to fall apart for him. Because of him.

He's wanted to muss Steve up since the beginning. This just seems like a whole lot more fun than getting into fights, even if he still had that urge to pick them.

As Steve's hands reach his pants, he arches his hips shamelessly against them. Actually getting out of them is going to be a challenge with Tony sitting like this, Steve pressed up against him, but they're clever guys. They can work something out.

The noise he gets out of Steve is fairly impressive. Not just a moan or a whimper, there's something almost animal in it, low and strained and hungry. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment; whether Tony's hands are teasing or not, it looks like Steve is struggling to maintain control already.

"Son of a bitch," he murmurs faintly; not an insult addressed at Tony so much as an observation on current events in general. He's not sure whether he's more surprised by how quickly they jumped to here from where they were, or how long it took for them to decide to try this. "Harder. You're not gonna break it."

He's somewhat lacking in finesse as he undoes Tony's pants, but he's not so clumsy he's going to cause him any injuries. And here, he pauses a moment to rub the heel of his hand against his cock, soft like he's just trying to get acquainted.

Then his patience goes elsewhere and he puts a hand on the other man's upper chest, pushing him back and down onto the table as he moves from between his legs. There, that'll make it easier to finish undressing him.

In the process of leaning in to see if he could try to coax more of those sounds out of Steve, or at least more cursing, Tony instead finds himself letting out a startled laugh as he's shoved back. He just wriggles to make himself comfortable, though, grinning up at Steve as he arches his hips off the surface to shove his pants and underwear down and off.

"Well?" He says as he settles himself back down, spread out on his own worktable. It's nothing he expected with Steve, though it is perilously close to more than a few fantasies he's had. There's more than one way to drive someone out of their mind, anyway. "You've got me here. Now what?"

He helps pull Tony's clothes off, maybe a little more roughly than necessary, eyes focused on the arch of his hips and the way it makes his muscles tense and relax. Later on, he won't remember where he's let Tony's jeans and underwear fall to the floor. The sight in front of him is too interesting to be diverted from.

"No planning," he tells him in a low, husky voice, and smirks a little. "But I think you're gonna get your wish a little later."

He didn't really have any particular idea or need to get him flat on the workbench, beyond stripping his clothes off, but now that he's there, it'd be dumb not to enjoy it. He rests the heels of his hands against Tony's hips and slides them up his body, only to run his nails back down the same path, attending to as much skin as the spread of his hands can reach. After a couple passes, he moves in again, gripping Tony's thighs and tugging gently, pulling him up and coaxing him to wrap his legs around Steve's shoulders. One arm goes under his lower back in support, because the net result has his body half raised off the surface.

"Y'might want to hold on a little," he suggests mildly.

Tony would roll his eyes at having his own words thrown back at him, but then he's too busy being manhandled to remember why he should care. He does at least manage a teasing grin as he drapes his legs over Steve's shoulders.

"That a promise or a threat?" He asks as he reaches over his head to grab the far side of the table. It pulls his entire body into one taught line, which seems to have been the idea if the smirk that flashes across his mouth is any indication. Tony wriggles just a little more, bracing himself on his shoulders and Steve's arm before he settles into something like anticipation.

He's pretty sure he knows where this is going. And he can't look away from Steve's face, bracketed between his own thighs.

"Fuck if I know, Tony," he laughs, watching with open admiration at he stretches out for him. "I really am winging it right now."

It seems to be working out well so far, though. Steve isn't sure he's ever had a guy wrap his legs around his neck and shoulders except in the context of a hold during sparring (so, not naked), but he's liking the view. He looks smug, almost catlike as he lets his eyes drift half-closed and rubs his jaw along Tony's inner thigh, moving slowly up to his groin.

He strokes his abdomen lazily with his free hand for a moment, then takes hold of his cock, stroking softly. Meanwhile, he keeps his mouth occupied, giving him a few somewhat sloppy, open-mouthed kisses at the base.

The muscle in his thigh twitches as Steve teases at it -- so Captain America does have stubble sometimes, who knew -- and Tony almost wants to laugh. But then there's a hand on his cock and Steve's warm mouth almost where he wants it and Tony's a bit too busy shifting restlessly under the touch.

He makes a low sound and lifts his hips into the stroke of Steve's hand, fighting the urge to let his head fall back. He wants to watch this, wants to be able to see Steve's gorgeous face and pleased grin and the big hand working over his cock. Tony can feel himself starting to breathe faster, and they've barely even started.

"Guess I won't ask if you're just going to tease me, then," he manages, sounding more than a little breathless. "But if you're in the mood for suggestions..."

He has a little stubble. His hair tends to be on the fine, pale side, but it grows at about the rate any guy's does. Which is fortunate. His metabolism is theoretically four times as fast as a normal man's, give or take. If his hair grew at that rate, he's never be able to be clean shaven for more than a couple hours.

Steve mouths and licks lazily, using his hand to spread the wetness. His eyes drift closed for a moment as he works his way to the head of Tony's cock and brushes his lips against it suggestively. He looks like he's enjoying himself very much, just like this.

His eyes are very dark when he opens them again to look down at Tony. "I could tease you," he says. "But not just. I'm open to requests, go on..."

Ultimately, Steve is not that great at teasing. He'd rather go for multiple rounds than pleasure delay or denial. Maybe that's a facet of his general recklessness. Still, he's at least capable of not rushing either of them, and he pauses both licking and stroking to give Tony a chance to answer.

There's a moment of breathless anticipation that pulls a low sound from Tony as Steve's mouth smooths against the tip of his cock...and then Steve pulls his head away. The sound Tony's making turns a little more frustrated as he slumps back against the table.

"Well," he says as he licks his lips to wet them and tries to pull himself back together a little. "You could get on with it. Just saying."

It's not his best work, but he's harder than he can remember being and Steve is still looking at him like that, and it's getting steadily harder to think. He can't help but arch just a little, like he's trying to get contact back any way he can.

"Come on, do you want me to say please?"

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