[ By the time that he takes a break from dancing, Steve has just about sweat through his crisp white shirt. He leans back against the bar, both elbows rested on the counter, and watches the dance floor as he catches his breath. Natasha really gave him a challenge: if he hadn't been taking dance classes for weeks leading up to this night, he wouldn't have had a snowball's chance in hell of keeping up. But he did, because if they were dead set on being traditional about this wedding, then Steve Rogers was going to have his first real dance with his husband in front of all their friends and family.
His husband. Just thinking the words brings an uncontrollable grin to Steve's face. He rubs the pad of his thumb against the band around his ring finger. Vibranium and a gold-titanium alloy hammered together to create a flowing pattern not unlike Damascus steel. His smile takes on a soft, dreamy quality when he thinks about Tony in that damned black tank top he always wears when forging, and the way it highlights every bead of sweat that drips down those strong arms of his. The image sparks an ember of want that sinks below his belt. A reminder that the night isn't over and there is still a lot to look forward to.
His eyes scan the party, curious what Tony is up to now. ]
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His husband. Just thinking the words brings an uncontrollable grin to Steve's face. He rubs the pad of his thumb against the band around his ring finger. Vibranium and a gold-titanium alloy hammered together to create a flowing pattern not unlike Damascus steel. His smile takes on a soft, dreamy quality when he thinks about Tony in that damned black tank top he always wears when forging, and the way it highlights every bead of sweat that drips down those strong arms of his. The image sparks an ember of want that sinks below his belt. A reminder that the night isn't over and there is still a lot to look forward to.
His eyes scan the party, curious what Tony is up to now. ]