shieldborne | Negotiations (for buildsomething)

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Negotiations (for buildsomething)

Steve is very calm and matter of fact about what's happened between them, when they wake the next morning. He disentangles himself from Tony gently, ruffles his hair one last time, and stretches, sliding out of bed. Neither of them ever finished their coffee.

Steve limits his chatter to Tony to the usual 'good morning' routine, carries the cups to the kitchen and washes them, and generally tries to be as low key as he possibly can about it. He doesn't want to embarrass him, and he really doesn't want to scare him away. He assumes, perhaps wrongly, that acting like cuddling with Tony for most of the night is just routine is the best way to approach the situation. At least Tony can rest assured Steve won't be sharing any private information with the others.

He gives it a day, going about his usual affairs, training and sparring, going over intel, trying to predict where they might be needed next...but while the others finish dinner, he goes looking for Tony specifically, trying to catch him alone.

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"You really want me to stop?" He squeezes gently like an illustration, but lifts his head with an almost thoughtful expression. His bedroom would be ideal, but it's a little far at the moment. Also getting there requires a possible gauntlet of nosy roommates, and won't that be fun. They'll get there eventually, Tony's going to see to that, but he has something to take care of first.

With a quiet little hum, he nudges Steve back and slips down off worktable. And then, without letting go, begins to slowly back Steve towards the couches tucked into the corner of the workroom. They probably should have started there, if he's honest, but if Steve wanted to suck him off on top of his own work station who is Tony to argue?

When the back's of Steve's legs hit the cushions, Tony pushes him down onto it and then immediately follows, knees planting on either side of Steve's legs to straddle his lap. "Better?" He asks with a flash of a grin and goes right back to stroking him. He might have a slightly one track mind at present.

"No! Don't stop," he protests. Just...alter physical reality to put Steve in a more comfortable position without having to pause the attention. Okay, so that's a tall order. Steve's hands slide up to run through Tony's hair again, but he's more or less pliant when he moves and backs him toward the couch. Without letting go of his cock. Is that a power move or a concession to Steve's plea? He's not sure, but he likes it either way.

He grunts as he collapses back onto the couch, then laughs and slumps as much as he has space for, putting his arms around the other man. "God, yes. Much better."

And convenient. His hands slide down to cup Tony's ass, kneading lazily in time with the stroking. "Definitely better."

Tony's hardly going to complain about that. He leans back into Steve's hands, blithely trusting him to hold his weight, and smiles down at him. "Glad to hear it," he says, voice low and amused.

And then he's all focus again, fingers trailing against the underside of Steve's cock as his hand begins to move faster. As much fun as his own orgasm had been, Tony's pretty sure this is what he actually wants more, to watch Steve come apart under him. His eyes are dark and intent as he watches him, a small smile still playing over his mouth.

Steve is plenty strong enough to hold a full-grown man on his lap, and even with the lean muscle on his frame, Tony is far from the heaviest of the Avengers. He will definitely not drop him, although his coordination may falter sooner than he thinks.

"Ohhh," his eyes close briefly, and he licks his lips. When it comes down to it, Steve's patience could be a little better. He can hold out for a long time if he has a focus, but like this, underneath a man and relatively passive, he's not going to be able to hold out long. "Tony...don't stop, I need it."

He's trying to keep his eyes on the other man, although they're glassy with pleasure now. They linger over Tony's face as he pants quietly, and then he relents and drops his gaze to the hand working over his cock and groans out loud. It's almost too much.

"I've got you," Tony says, and it sounds almost like a promise. He smoothes his free hand up and down Steve's side, apparently just for the sake of touching him, and follows his gaze down to watch Steve's cock move through his fingers. Tony makes a low sound of his own, his grip firming without him meaning to.

"Just let go for me, hm?" It's halfway between soothing and goading as he feels Steve's body move restlessly under him. Someday Tony might try teasing him out of his mind, but he's not sure even he has the patience for that right now. Not with Steve already looking half out of his mind and desperate to fall the rest of the way.

He strokes him faster, letting the calluses on his fingers catch on every sensitive spot he can find. Every bit of concentration he usually puts into his work, he's got on pulling Steve's orgasm out of him now.

"Your hands, though," he croaks helplessly. Presumably it's meant as a compliment, given his earlier confession about some of the things he likes about Stark. Steve's own hands move up Tony's back to brace under his shoulderblades, clinging with impressive strength, and his pelvis moves, pushing up into Tony's grasp. Thrusting.

"F-for you, huh?" He adds, gaze flicking back to the other man's face, locking his eyes on Tony's face. "Yeah--yes. God, yes..."

That's when he runs out of words, dissolving into sharp gasps and whimpers, back arching enough to lift his hips off the cushion and bounce Tony in his lap. He can't keep his eyes open under the final onslaught of pleasure, squeezing them shut and gritting his teeth against the cries that want to break free from his throat.

The orgasm is intense, and it's messy, leaving his chest and belly slick and shiny with release. As the spasm fade away, he gulps air again and stills, blinking rapidly because tears have sprung to the corners of his eyes.

"Uffhh..." he says softly after a moment. It might be a while before he can give any kind of intelligent feedback, but his lips curve into a giddy little smile.

Tony makes a quiet, startled sound as Steve nearly dislodges him with the force of it, but the noise goes much lower, hotter, as he watches the orgasm take him over. He's almost entranced by it, the way Steve looks when he just completely comes apart, to the point where he forgets that his hand is still wrapped around Steve's cock.

He can't help but quirk a faint smile at the incoherent noises and goofy expression on Steve's face and he also can't help leaning in to gently kiss that smile. Now that Steve isn't moving anymore, he leans in to press their bodies together, completely uncaring about the mess still on Steve's stomach.

"Hi there," he says teasingly as he rests their foreheads together. "Feeling okay?"

Steve spends so much of his time focused, controlled--some would say 'repressed'--it feels heavenly to let go of that for just a moment, and do nothing but feel. He's left trembling a little in the aftermath; maybe a simple handjob shouldn't leave him so undone. Maybe it has something to do with the company.

He blinks languidly and angles his head into the kiss, nuzzling up into Tony and sighing when he settles forward to rest against his body.

"Uh-huhh," he says softly. His voice is soft and a little raw. It takes him a little bit longer after an orgasm to get his emotions under control than it does his body. His arms slide up to circle Tony gently, embracing. "I needed that. How 'bout you? You okay?"

The sound that comes from low in Tony's throat might be a laugh as he settles into the hold. "Can't complain," he says as he reaches up to tease at the hair at the nape of Steve's neck. Half because he wants to touch and half because he's pretty sure now that Steve likes having his hair played with. Win-win.

"So I think we can agree," he says, voice all warm amusement, "that this was an excellent idea and we should try it again some time." Possibly as often as possible. At the moment, the idea of not touching Steve just seems strange.

Steve feels like his blood has been replaced with something smoother and more sluggish, like syrup or warm butter. He doesn't usually feel quite so physically drained after sex; pleasantly so. He feels just a bit floaty, and it only helps that Tony has chosen to indulge him in a little post-orgasmic cuddling.

"Good," he says, rolling his head helpfully to give him access to play with his hair. "I'd be sad if you complained."

It's a testament to how satisfied he is that he's not reacting to Tony's clear amusement. There are times that would rub him the wrong way. This is not one of them; he's reading it as affection rather than mockery. "I can definitely agree with that," he replies, and strokes up and down Tony's spine lazily. "Frequently. You're awfully good."

He kisses him on the cheek and sighs happily.

"We've all got our talents." And the fact that he can get Steve looking like this means that Tony has all the impetus in the world to pull out every trick he knows or has even slightly heard of. The smile on his face is warm and fond as he looks down at him, fingers still carding through his hair.

"Just tell me if you get uncomfortable and we can move." He likes the couch as much as any man who's slept on it more than he probably should, but Tony will be the first to admit it's not the most comfortable place in the world.

The fact that he's obliquely invited Steve up to his room hasn't even occurred to him. Why wouldn't he want Steve in his bed right now?

Steve blinks up at him, contentedly dazed and very relaxed, but even in this state he registers the expression he's getting. Tony isn't what Steve would call a cold person, by any means--he's far too charming for that descriptor--but he's reserved and defensive in his own way, and Steve can't recall him ever looking quite so tender.

"...and where would we move to?" He smiles slowly, intrigued. "You inviting me up to your place, Tony?"

Steve knows he is nearly always good for a round two, of course. He doesn't want to presume, necessarily, that Tony's suggesting it, but even if he's not interested in more sex, more cuddling seems to be a given. Steve is 100% in.

"Whatever will the neighbors think?" He sits up a little to kiss him again.

"I suppose I am," he murmurs against Steve's mouth, leaning back in against him languidly. Tony's feeling entirely too good to bother putting his usual defenses up. And he's already let Steve into his actual space, getting him into the bedroom feels almost secondary.

"Or I'm inviting myself to yours," he adds with a hint of a tease. Honestly, he doesn't actually care where they go. He's just too old to be sleeping on couches and he wouldn't really mind having Steve with him. If nothing else, he's comfortable.

He does find himself pulling back a little to huff out a laugh though. "Do we care what the neighbors think? They're all gossipy old women anyway." Considering the number of spies in his house, Tony has no illusions that this is going to be anything like subtle. He can't really bring himself to care.

"You can come to my room any time," Steve murmurs, and it doesn't sound like it's meant to be sultry. Just a casual invitation. "Mnn, god, is it possible to have a cuddling kink? I'm really liking...this."

He gives Tony a squeeze against his chest, then lets go regretfully. If they're going to go anywhere, they'll have to move, unless Tony has invented some kind of teleportation device without telling anyone.

"Yours is closer, though." So sue him, he's also curious.

"Okay, what will you give me if I promise not to tell Natasha you called her a gossipy old woman?" He laughs, putting his hands on Tony's shoulders to help stabilize him for getting up.

Tony groans a little as he slowly climbs to his feet, then pulls his arms over his head to stretch out his back. Age is a terrible thing. But in the middle, arms still pulled taught, he turns slightly to toss a grin in Steve's direction. "You're assuming I haven't said as much to her face. But what do you want?" He adds with just a hint of suggestiveness.

One that's probably slightly ruined as he drops his arms and goes to find his pants, but oh well. Sadly, they're going to need at least some clothing if they're going to be relocating. That or Steve is way more of an exhibitionist than Tony's expecting.

"My room it is," he says slightly distractedly as he locates his jeans and tugs them back on. Bothering with the underwear seems pointless if he's just going to be taking it all back off again. "I bet you my bed is nicer, anyway."

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Negotiations (for buildsomething)

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