shieldborne | Negotiations (for buildsomething)

This time it's Steve's turn to let out a surprised little laugh. He leans his forehead against Tony's, another soft, intimate gesture. "Nah. It's not dumb. More or less what I was trying to figure out. But you have a way with words I don't."

He's smiling, eyes hooded and peaceful. It seems likely that he's just as affected by this as Tony. Lazily, he slides the hand on the back of Tony's neck up to ruffle his hair at the back of his head, apropos of nothing but affection. "Seems like the answer to both our questions is 'yes'."

His smile widens a little. "I mean...we don't have to do the whips and chains routine at all, but definitely not all the time. Just this is pretty good."

The faint humming sound Tony gives in reply is undeniably pleased. Now they're definitely getting somewhere. Not that he can just leave it there.

"Just this? I don't know about that." Tony's smile flashes to something almost wicked for a second. "'Cause I have to tell you, I've had a few thoughts about your uniform and me on my knees."

Now this line of conversation is much more in Tony's comfort zone. Between that and the physical contact, he's lost any of the tension he might have had. But even though he's teasing, it doesn't mean he's not completely serious about it.

With Steve's forehead against his, Tony can no doubt feel the eyebrow-raise that comment prompts. He blushes a little again too, though, smiling at the same time. There's a quiet clearing of his throat before he responds: "So you like the spangles after all. I knew it."

His fingers curl in his hair, enough to scratch blunt nails lightly against Tony's scalp. "Any other thoughts you want to share with me?"

Rather than backing off now that they've broken the ice with a kiss, he seems to be easing into Tony's personal space a little further. His free hand moves up his side lazily to rest against his ribs.

"I have a healthy appreciation for a skin tight outfit," Tony agrees easily. He's practically arching into the hand in his hair like a cat at this point, eyes sliding closed in appreciation. He likes a good head massage, what can he say. It means he's pressing a little closer to Steve in general, but it's not like he has a problem with that.

"Oh, plenty," he adds slowly, drawing the words out as his voice lowers a little. It's warm and amused and clearly trying to see what kind of a reaction he can get. "But a man can't give up all of his secrets at once."

Steve feels vaguely triumphant, watching Tony relax into the stroking. This feels more natural than the entire previous conversation, soft and comfortable. The talk-through had to happen, and they may still have to work a few things out later, but this may ultimately be a better way to communicate.

He chuckles quietly and just barely brushes his lips against the corner of Tony's mouth. The drop in pitch in his voice earns a little shiver. "Going to make me work for them, hm? It might not be a bad idea to just...do some more of this first, before we break out the whips and chains. You think? You already spent last night in my room, anyway..."

"Why Steven," Tony says, pulling back just enough to give Steve the full view of his best dramatic eyelash-flutter, "are you propositioning me?" And then he leans in to kiss him again before he can answer, because Tony is exactly that kind of a jerk. But the kissing is good and it hopefully makes it pretty clear exactly what his answer is.

And honestly, it's not a bad idea. The sex obviously, sex with Steve is never going to be a bad idea, but also a chance to let them get to know each other in this context before things get exotic.

Plus, he probably owes Steve for not letting him wallow in that headspace the other night. He can think of a whole lot of increasingly creative ways to do it, too.

"You be-" he begins to respond, eyes sparkling with laughter, but the kiss cuts him off, and he finds he doesn't mind.

His response is as gentle as the first kiss, at least to start with, but he's getting the feeling Tony's just warming up. Not to be outdone, he slips his one hand around to the small of his back, pressing him closer, and makes an encouraging little moan.

He wasn't specifically pushing for them to do this right now, tonight, but if they keep up with this makeout session that might be what ends up happening. Steve is definitely on board. When the kiss breaks, he tilts his head and nuzzles at the hinge of his jaw, breath warm against his skin. "We should have thought of this sooner."

"If I had any idea you were anything but a flat zero on the kinsey scale," Tony says, voice completely dry, "I might have suggested it." It's only partially a lie, he might not have ever brought it up, but he definitely have thought about it more. It hardly matters, though, since Tony is much more interested in mapping the line of Steve's jaw with his mouth than he is in arguing semantics.

And there's a whole lot more investigating he'd like to do, but the way they're sitting isn't exactly the most comfortable. Much as Toby might snort at the idea of feeling his age, his back is already starting to complain a little. There's always the couches tucked into the corner of the workroom, but that feels almost hilariously teenager.

Instead, with an apologetic little nip to the underside of Steve's jaw, he unravels himself enough to slip out of the chair and perch right onto the edge of his workbench. Once he's situation, he grins wide and sharp and tangles a hand in the front of Steve's shirt to pull him back in close again.

"Mmhh." His head rolls back a little at that nip, but he loosens his grasp enough to let Tony move away and up to the workbench. "If it makes you feel any better, I've never done anything with a guy that didn't involve being tied up or smacked around."

Which may explain why this isn't something he thought of until now. Because offering to dominate or submit to Tony is a little different than making out casually in his lab. Steve thinks his own attitude may be somewhat ass-backwards here, but he's used to feeling that way by now.

"So," he lets himself be pulled closer, grinning and putting his hands just above Tony's knees. "You're on your bench. You want me to work on you, huh?"

This actually puts Steve at a perfect height to nuzzle up under Tony's chin and give back the attention he was just getting. His breath feels rapid and hot, and his hands knead at the other man's legs distractedly. "I mean, I don't mind moving to one of our rooms, but this is...this is you, this room."

Tony's arms slide over Steve's shoulders as he presses in, but any attempt at smoothness is instantly ruined as Tony suddenly coughs out a laugh. "Oh my god that was terrible. That might be the most amazing line I've ever heard, I'm getting it framed." And he does look delighted, still chuckling to himself as his hands map down the line of Steve's back.

Steve's not wrong, though. The workshop is his in a way that very few other places are. The outright amusement fades a little in the face of Steve's mouth against his skin, though Tony's still smiling as he tips his head back to bare his throat.

"Let's see how things go, hm?" One hand keeps investigating the muscles of Steve's back while the other slides up to tangle into short blonde hair. "No planning. I forbid it."

Steve huffs, because he knew it wasn't a good line, but he didn't think it was that funny. Still, he likes to hear Tony laugh. Anyway, Steve said he could be dominant; he never said he could be seductive.

He nips lightly, chuckling just because he's savoring the moment. "Mnnhm. You're welcome. Tell you what, I'll get someone to make you a cross-stitch of it for the wall in here."

The way he's being touched feels very right, and he can feel his own shoulders un-tensing under Tony's hands. It might be nice to just let go under that attention some time. It'd probably make Stark all smug, but that might be worth it.

"You forbid it, huh?" he murmurs against his pulse points, moving down and then around the front of this throat. "So now you're in charge? I don't remember us discussing that."

It's only a playful challenge. A little give and take from both of them is probably what's in order right now.

The pleased hum Tony gives in response is only partially to the bite. For all their talk about domination, it's nice to know that they can still just spend a while giving each other playful hell, even when wrapped up like this. It's comfortable, in a weird way.

"My space, my rules," he agrees, a slight smile playing over his mouth. Nevermind that the whole building is technically his space.

And like he's trying to prove it, he tugs gently at Steve's hair, just enough to coax him away from his throat. As Tony's head comes back down he just studies Steve for a moment, fingers absently rubbing against Steve's scalp. Satisfied with whatever he was looking for, the smile quirks up a bit higher and he leans in to kiss him again.

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.

And Tony had no problem with twining closer, if the way he wraps his legs around Steve's body to pull him in is any indication. He makes a sound low in his throat as they end up pressed chest to chest, the hand on Steve's back slipping lower to flirt with the hem of the shirt he's wearing, fingertips just barely brushing bare skin underneath.

"Nope," Tony says once he's pulled back enough to take a breath, and punctuates it with a gentle nip to Steve's lower lip. "That's the other rule. No rules."

Neither of them are particularly good at just letting things happen, Steve with his strategizing and Tony with his overthinking. It's probably one of the reasons why they clashed so hard at the beginning, one stubborn control-freak to another. There's something hilariously apt to the fact that they've almost skipped straight to the slightly more rigidly-defined lines of D/s.

But Tony's not thinking about control or the lack of it now. There's a pleasant looseness to the whole thing, the idea that there are no expectations or intrigues other than figuring out what feels good and doing it. It's not quite the absolute lassitude of the other night, but it is just. Comfortable.

One of the few things he can remember with absolute clarity is thinking that relaxation is a good look on Steve. It's true, but this -- handsome faced flushed and dark eyed -- Tony thinks he could be willing to do a lot of things to get Steve looking like this more often.

Oh. Steve gives a faint gasp as he's pulled in closer. Something about the feeling of having someone's legs wrapped around his waist is arousing on a very primal level. He squirms a little, unable to help himself, but stills at the feeling of Tony playing with the hem of his t-shirt. It almost tickles, that touch is so light. Almost.

"Mnn!" He shivers a little at the bite and moves his right hand back up to the back of Tony's neck. Aware now that he gets a good response from a scalp massage, he rakes his fingers through his hair.

"But I like rules," he protests when they pause the kiss again. He's breathless. "You can't bend or break rules if there aren't any around."

Tony might have let that go, too busy practically purring at the hand in his hair. But even as his eyes slide closed to appreciate it, he can't help a low laugh.

"You rebel, you," he says as his hand slips under Steve's shirt properly, even if only to rest against his bare back. "But if it makes you feel better, go with a technicality. All of this is breaking a rule." And Tony is just making things up as he goes, but details. He can invent plenty of rules if Steve needs one to subvert so badly.

It really shouldn't be such an oddly attractive idea. "Do you just get off on being stubborn or what?" Said the pot to the kettle.

Steve draws in a breath at the touch of skin against skin, a slow, deep inhale that he releases just as slowly. Maybe it's a way to get a hold of himself, or maybe he just wants to take a moment to focus on the feel of Tony's hand on his back, warm and callused. It makes him itch for more.

"Yeah? What rule is that?" Steve is excellent at memorizing rules and standards and best practices. He's also excellent at ignoring them when it suits him. People look at him and see a military man, and they forget he lied on his enlistment forms five times to get there.

"Thought you wanted to find out for yourself what I get off on," he snorts, and nudges Tony's shirt collar out of the way to get at his clavicle. "But if you really wanna know, it's a survival mechanism. You spend your life getting doors slammed in your face, you gotta either stop knocking on them, or learn to be prepared to wedge your foot in the door before it can get closed on you. And then push."

He kisses the curve of skin angling over bone, lets his teeth scrape lightly, and then nuzzles the pit of Tony's throat. "So what's your excuse, then?"

"Me?" Tony laughs, the sound going a little breathless at the feeling of teeth on his throat. Trust Steve to be open and genuine while they're busy necking. Tony is...less so. But that's nothing new. "I'm just an asshole."

And the fact that Steve is still this conversational probably means that Tony isn't doing a good enough job of distracting him. A bit of teasing is all well and good, but Tony can't shake the urge to see if he can coax more of those pretty sounds out of him instead.

He slowly drags the hand on his back up the line of Steve's spine, fingers pressing just a little into the muscle on either side. There's a sudden flash of an incredibly vivid visual, Steve spread out on Tony's sheets upstairs with all that bare skin under Tony's hands. Tony doesn't even bother to fight the low groan that rumbles out of his throat. They are definitely doing that later.

For the moment, he just continues the path up Steve's back, then tugs on the hem of the shirt that's come along for the ride. "Think we can lose this?"

Honesty is Steve's default. He's not incapable of deception, but the more distracted he is, the more likely he is to be open and genuine. And Tony definitely has him...distracted. The blood flow is deserting his brain and going elsewhere. He hasn't lost all of his verbal skills yet, but the fact that there's a delay before he catches up with Tony's reply and laughs definitely says something.

"You said it, not me," he jokes, and nips again.

Every nerve in Steve's back seems to be responding to the feeling of fingers moving up his back. He makes a breathless noise and lifts his head at around the same moment Tony groans.

"Mnhh...your workshop. I guess if you want it gone..." He grins at him, just a little sheepish, and moves back just enough to shrug out of the shirt. He actually starts to fold it to set it aside, then realizes there's no point and tosses it under the table.

"I like your hands," he blurts, a mild non-sequitur. But then he reaches to take Tony's wrists and press his palms against his upper chest.

"You do, huh?" Tony says with a grin as he fans his fingers out over his collarbones like he's trying to touch as much as possible all at once. It's nothing he hasn't seen before, Steve's bare chest, given they all live together and Steve's tendencies towards skin-tight shirts. But it's not a sight he thinks he might get tired of. And being able to put his hands all over it is a very different thing altogether. That, he definitely appreciates.

He's also getting the sense that Steve has a serious thing for skin contact. Tony's known that Steve is a physical guy, but the responses he's made to even the slight touches so far have been fascinating. And hot, obviously, but that's pretty much a given for everything at the moment. It makes the scientist in Tony want to see just how far he can get with nothing but his fingertips.

Later, maybe. For the moment, he strokes his thumbs along the lines of Steve's clavicle, watching his face with a soft kind of amusement.

"Uh-huh," his eyes flutter closed for a moment. He runs his fingers up Tony's arms and around his shoulders until he's half embracing him again, an expression of soft concentration settling on his face. "They're strong. Little bit rough, in a good way. Because you do so much stuff in here. I like that. Sure you're a genius, but you work with your hands."

Competence is pretty attractive. An ability to labor and create something concrete...well, Steve is still a bit of an artist at heart. Skill is sexy.

His lips curl up into a faint smile, half parted, and he sighs, just passively enjoying the stroking for a moment. His bare skin is sensitive, evidently. And surprisingly soft for someone who's ostensibly a tough guy. Maybe that's the serum's work. He tends not to scar, and aging comes slow. After a moment, he gives a little shiver under the touch. It's not from cold.

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?"

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