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[ Steve gasps as he feels his face heat, because even hotter than being watched, apparently, is being watched and told what to do. Neither of which Steve had any idea he was into before this moment, and certainly not to the extent that it feels like he's burning up from the inside from the sheer need to please. ]

Yeah, yeah, [ he urges with quick, jerky nods, his voice hoarse. Despite his eagerness, it takes the full extent of Steve's willpower to actually do what Tony says and draw this out. He gasps again, his cock impossibly hard and so fucking sensitive, but his hand slows down to a maddening but consistent pump. ]

Fuck, [Tony breathes with something approaching reverence. He lifts his own hips up to wriggle out of his pants, or at least get them somewhere around his knees so his own erection has more room. It's all he can do to keep from touching himself, but someone's gotta have self-restraint here-

Okay, that's a lie, he doesn't have any. He just doesn't want to push himself over the edge again, not till they're closer to having sex. And speaking of which-]

Gonna need some lube here real soon, [he informs Steve, but adds quickly:] I can get it if you tell me where it is.

[Because Tony selfishly wants to keep watching Steve, to drink every second of this in and hoard it for the future. It might never happen again (probably won't), but at least he'll have this.]

Back of the drawer, [ Steve offers, using his free hand to point at a nightstand. The hand on his dick pulls off for just a second too, so he can lick his palm obscenely before returning to touching himself; he's been turned on for so long that sweat and pre-cum were doing the trick until now.

He moans and jerks his hips into his hand, feeling exposed in a way that he never thought he could after the army desensitized him to nudity. Of course it has everything to do with who is watching him, and how, because Steve has never been able to help looking into those big brown eyes, and seeing how intently they're staring back is not just flattering but downright intoxicating. ]

You're gonna fucking kill me.

[Tony drags his gaze away with difficulty, at least long enough to find said drawer and tug it open. He blindly fumbles through the contents, closes his fingers around what he's pretty sure is lube.

He's barely coherent enough to bite back Better death than last time, because nothing kills the mood (haha) like reminding someone of the time you almost died. Or so Tony assumes.

The stiff fingers of Tony's right hand still work well enough to pop the cap and - goddamnit, has he ever done this with his left hand before? He loses his focus on Steve as he works slick fingers between his own thighs, grunts a bit as he arches his hips up a bit. Flexibility is an issue too, it would seem.]

[ Steve is so caught up in chasing his own pleasure, and perhaps even more embarrassingly, in staring directly at Tony, that he doesn't piece together why Tony was asking for the lube until it starts to unfold in front of him. And then he all but throws himself forward, crawling up the bed to where Tony is laid out. ]

Let me? [ He says inquisitively, gently placing his hand against Tony's inner thigh. As much as he wants to make that an order, it's not the sort of thing to push. He can make his argument, though. And that is, very seriously, even if his voice sounds completely wrecked: ] I want to make you come apart under my hands.

[As much as Tony wants to keep watching Steve touch himself - desperately, for the record - he also wants those hands on him. So it doesn't take a whole lot for Tony to accede to the request, not with those blue eyes looking up at him. Besides, Tony's pretty sure his own fingers are woefully inadequate for the task at hand. Even Steve's might not be enough - it's been a long time - but, hell, regrets are for future Tony to deal with when he can't sit tomorrow.]

Be my guest.

[Tony gives Steve a cocky grin that he tries to keep from slipping into a giddy smile, something that might betray the elation he feels that this is actually happening and he's not going to wake up with a serious case of blue balls.]

Take it slow and easy. [Not that Tony thinks Steve's just going to ram a couple fingers into him, but he hopes talking him through it will help ease the inevitable nerves.]

Right. Slow and easy, [ Steve echoes back, nodding with a degree of speed and force that betrays his clear nervousness. He powers through, reaching for the lube and squeezing a generous amount onto his hands. After a few moments, Steve wraps one slick hand around Tony's cock and simultaneously traces the pad of his thumb around Tony's rim. He keeps that up, rubbing torturous circles with the lightest pressure, working his hand along Tony's shaft a couple of times. Then, on a whim, Steve leans forward and flattens his tongue against Tony to lick him from root to tip. ]

You're doing fi-

[Tony starts to encourage Steve, not that he has much presence of mind left with which to form coherent words, but then Steve licks him and his voice cracks and slides into a yelp. His fingers scrabble against the sheets, and he arches his hips up, mindlessly chasing after more.]

Better than fine, [Tony amends breathlessly. Also, he may never let Steve out of his bedroom again if he makes it through the next fifteen minutes, and he's giving some sound consideration to installing a defibrillator.]

Just- keep going.

[ Keep going, the man says. As if Steve could bring himself to stop.

He starts to wrap his lips around the head of Tony's cock, but Tony jerks up at the same time, shoving himself into Steve's throat. Steve fights the urge to cough, pushing past the impulse to instead take Tony so deep it makes his eyes water.

Steve is desperate to make this good for Tony. Memorable. He wants to leave an impression that Tony won't soon forget. If this is the last time they ever do this, it won't be for Steve's lack for trying.

Naturally, the encouragements spilling out of Tony are like a drug, and Steve needs, more than anything, to hear Tony make those sounds again. To be the reason he makes them.

Steve sucks down until his lips meet the back of the hand he has wrapped around the base of Tony's dick. He is largely improvising here, both terrified and eager to impress. Maybe he can't compete with Tony's past partners on technique, but enthusiasm has to count for something. Plus, it helps distract from the fact that his other hand is still fumbling around Tony's hole, hesitant to take that next step. ]

[Enthusiasm counts for a lot, but not as much as the sheer impossibility of watching Steve suck him off, those lips he's spent too damn much time staring at wrapped around his cock, every bit of that intense focus on him. Tony almost forgets to breathe for a moment - it's not like there's a whole lot of oxygen being routed to his brain right now, anyway.]

Sorry, sorry, [Tony barely has the presence of mind to apologize after nearly choking Steve with his cock - although, frankly, he's not the real choking hazard here. But he does need to keep Steve's inexperience in mind - Tony can and will do almost anything (and probably has at one point or another), but Steve doesn't need a dick rammed down his throat, no matter how many times Tony's thought it would be a good way to shut him up.]

You okay? [Tony asks needlessly, because, wow, Steve's absolutely going to town, and he'd like to think that he wouldn't do that if he wasn't okay, but Tony has also seen Steve do absolutely insane things and just take the "walk it off" approach to injuries. He tangles his fingers in Steve's hair, tugs him up for a moment - god, those swollen lips and dark eyes are gonna kill him - just for a well-being check, and possibly to make sure he hasn't come to his senses yet.]

[ Steve whines— there is, embarrassingly, no other word for it— when Tony pulls him away. His eyes blink open slowly as he reorients himself. On one hand, he's confused and concerned, because why did Tony stop him? On the other hand, it turns out that hair-pulling is one of the hottest things that can happen to a person, at least as far as Steve's libido is concerned. He finds himself leaning into every little tug, even as he looks up at Tony with a questioning look. ]

Yeah, I'm fine, [ he answers, sounding a little hoarser than expected, he must admit. He probably shouldn't say that he's never been so turned on in his life, that he's thought about this but couldn't have imagined, didn't have any idea he could feel this way. That might be a bit much, so yeah, he's fine.

Just as long as Tony isn't having second thoughts, that is. ] Was I— was something wrong?

God, no. [Tony's reply is almost embarrassingly fast, but he doesn't want Steve to feel like he's doing something wrong when everything is absolutely right. In fact, he very much wants to encourage him on the off chance it might lead to an encore performance in the future.

He loosens his grip on Steve's hair and pets him for about two seconds before Tony realizes what he's doing and how potentially embarrassing it is if Steve notices it - though judging by his eyes, Steve is fucking wrecked and it's the hottest thing Tony's seen in his life.]

Just, uh, wanted to make sure you were okay. I wasn't really watching myself and keeping, you know, everything in mind. [Tony clears his throat awkwardly. There's no good way to ask someone to stop blowing you, especially if you're trying to convince them that they aren't doing anything wrong. Problem is, Steve's doing it right, and there's absolutely no fucking chance of Tony wringing a third orgasm out of his body.]

Look, do you want me to talk you through- [Tony gestures vaguely with his good hand. Anyone else, he'd have no problem getting the words out, but he feels strangely self-conscious with Steve. It's not a feeling Tony likes.] You know. Stretching me out.

[ Steve's posture relaxes instantly as Tony's reassurance drains away the tension. He never realized his scalp was such an erotic hotspot, but he can barely suppress another whine when Tony's fingers stop brushing through his hair. How he expects to make it through the rest of this encounter is a mystery, wrecked as he is already. It's a good thing that jumping in head first with only etchings of a plan is the Steve Rogers way.

But as much as he prefers to chart his own course, there's a side of him that tires of making all the calls, and that side lights up at Tony's suggestion. Relief and anticipation make for a euphoric cocktail of emotions and he knows he'll come off too eager, but fuck if he can help it right now. ]

Yeah, [ he nods breathlessly, grasping for the lifeline Tony has just extended him. ] Yeah, let's do that.

[The offer isn't only for Steve's benefit - it means that Steve won't be sucking him off, so Tony won't have to worry about any premature ejaculation. Which should be the last thing he has to worry about at his age, and he has absolutely no clue why his body is acting like this. It's almost enough to make him wish he could coax Steve into further experimentation (in the name of science, obviously), except he can guess how Steve feels about being a lab rat.

Also, he's not sure his heart can take more of these encounters.

Tony sucks in a breath, then exhales slowly. He's trying hard to make himself sound a lot calmer than he is; a significant part of him wants Steve buried balls deep in him right the fuck now and doesn't care about the consequences.]

Okay, so you wanna take the lube and make sure you get plenty of it on your fingers, [he instructs Steve.] You really can't have too much - I mean, it can get kinda messy, but if you're expecting to have sex without making a mess..[Tony shrugs and trails off. That's just how it works.]

[ Steve's eyes snap up at Tony's words. He knows, of course, what they're doing here. But hearing Tony say it so plainly somehow makes it even more real. They're having sex. Not messing around, not having fun— Tony didn't feel the need to offer any euphemism for it. Which leaves Steve feeling, not for the first time tonight, out of his depth. He doubts he could have made those words leave his lips. Then again, he didn't need to. Tony has been so understanding— Steve's chest fills with emotion at the thought, and he's suddenly fighting a real urge to lean up and kiss the man.

But Steve doesn't know if Tony would take it the way he means it— as an expression of gratitude, definitely nothing deeper. Not willing to risk rocking the boat at this stage, Steve decides against it. Instead he busies his hands following Tony's instructions, pouring an excessive amount of lube into his palms and coating his fingers thoroughly. ]

Should I— I mean, are you ready for...? [ He looks down at his hands— have his fingers always been that big?— and then back at Tony. As much as he'd like to get this show on the road, this is the rare occasion when barreling forward on momentum alone could end up poorly for Steve. ]

I don't want you to just jam 'em in there, but yeah, it's okay. Start with one and slide it on in.

[Tony tries to make his voice calm and soothing, but he's pretty keyed up already. Normally he wouldn't be nervous, but he can feel a knot of anxiety in the pit of his stomach.]

Here. [He grabs a pillow and lifts his hips up for a moment to slide it underneath, then spreads his thighs again once he's settled.] Positioning can be a little awkward sometimes, and this helps.

[Tony could probably take two fingers right now, truth be told, but he's easing Steve into this, and one is easier for him to handle mentally. Someday, he'll find himself a nice guy and thank Tony for helping him through this first rough patch.]

I'm not that hopeless. [ Steve says, only a little bit defensively, having long-since learned not to take everything Tony says personally. He thought he was as revved up as it was possible to get, but then Tony configures himself into a new position, his thighs falling open before Steve like an invitation, and Steve needs a moment to compose himself before he shoots off like exactly the kind of helpless virgin he just said he wasn't.

He is holding his breath when he finally reaches out to touch Tony. He works his middle finger in slowly, curiously. It is a first, after all. Tony feels entirely unexpected: soft and warm and opening up to him so freely. With his free hand, Steve caresses the outer stretch of Tony's thigh. Then, before he can think better of it, he presses a soft kiss to Tony's knee, perhaps in an effort of distract them both as he works his finger deeper. ]

[Tony bites back the instinctive Yes, you are because he really is trying to be encouraging and help Steve out here, obviously for entirely altruistic reasons. It's a lot easier to tone down the snark when Steve presses his finger in; Tony has to concentrate on relaxing his muscles instead of tensing up. Plus, you know, it's Steve fingering him, and not even Tony can be sarcastic about that.

Tony opens his mouth to say something positive - or maybe to beg for more, it's hard to tell - but Steve turns his head to kiss his knee, and Tony finds himself entirely distracted by the tenderness of the gesture. It makes his heart ache to see Steve like that, to be on the receiving end of something so innocent, but somehow more intimate than the finger that's buried in him up to the knuckle.

He may have made a mistake here.]

's good, [Tony manages to get out.] See? You're practically a pro already.

[ He can feel Tony's muscles relaxing under his touch and it loosens something in his chest. That last piece of him that was holding out for Tony to pull away, or for something to break the peace between them and spoil the evening, it finally goes quiet. Instead, Tony just encourages him, and it's hard not to notice how he can barely get his words out. It gives Steve the courage he needs to start experimenting, crooking his finger and adding a little bit of pressure as he strokes Tony from inside.

Since Tony never objected, Steve also takes the liberty of pressing a few more kisses against Tony's inner thigh. It makes sense that Tony would need more than one thing to concentrate on at a time, and Steve is happy to be of help. On the last kiss he lets a little tongue slip through, leaving a damp streak on Tony's thigh that Steve then gently blows his breath on. ]

Still good?

[Tony not only isn't objecting, he's starting to roll his hips a little as Steve strokes. That anxious knot inside him seems to have dissolved, leaving him awash in pure desire (and a lot of feelings he's fucking determined to ignore). It's been a long time since anyone fucked him (which is why going slowly makes sense, but fuck that), and his body is reminding him of how goddamn good it feels. He really, really wants Steve to fuck him until he can't stand, and he wants it - well, about five minutes ago, but now is a good second choice.

But Steve's skittish at best and likely to do the opposite of anything Tony wants at worst, so Tony's just going to have to suck it up until Steve decides that he's had enough fingering.

Okay, maybe there are worse fates.]

Faaaaantastic. [Tony draws out the first vowel playfully.] You could probably, you know, slip a second finger in there. If you wanted.

[And he could maybe use his teeth on the sensitive skin he keeps kissing, too, but Tony doesn't want to scare Steve off. Not that that's scary for anyone other than a virgin, but- that's what Steve is. There's no getting past it.]

Yeah? [ Steve wastes no time taking up Tony's suggestion and soon he is fucking two fingers into Tony, gaining the confidence now to be a little more assertive, less cautiously gentle. Tony feels indescribable– it actually makes Steve lightheaded to imagine how he will feel stretched around Steve's cock. God, he wants that more than anything, anything except for how much he wants for Tony to enjoy it, too. And so Steve continues fingering Tony with the same intense focus and patience that Tony might've once bemoaned about him.

A wave of want hits him as he kisses Tony's thigh, and maybe some mixture of the confidence boost and his own eagerness are in play, because the next thing he knows, he is scraping his teeth against Tony's skin. ]

Ohhhhhhhh fuck. [Stray noises slip from Tony's lips as Steve fucks him with his fingers, with an honest to God full-throated moan when Steve scrapes his teeth over Tony's skin. His hips jerk, and that brings Steve's fingers into contact with his prostate, and suddenly Tony sucks in a breath between clenched teeth.]

Yeah, just- right there. Except not too much right now, take it easy. [Not something you should ever say to Steve Rogers, but Tony is a lot closer to coming than he should be, and if Steve starts pounding at his prostate, he'll end up with an embarrassing faceful of come - and god knows Tony's not going to get a third erection out of this. It'll ruin their entire night.]

[ Tony might feel him grinning against his thigh, but Steve can't help it; that was the kind of reaction he has been hoping to get all night. It means that he's doing something— possibly even multiple somethings— right. And while Tony enjoying himself is no guarantee that they'll ever do this again, it certainly can't hurt the odds.

Steve very much wants to exploit that sweet spot he just scraped against, but Tony tells him to take it easy, and he deflates momentarily. After some quick consideration, Steve decides that take it easy doesn't mean stop. So he does chase that spot inside of Tony, but without any pressure, grazing past with a feather-light touch as he works a third finger in. ]

[Take it easy absolutely does not mean stop, and Tony squirms eagerly at each brush of Steve's fingers. His erection bobs every time he jerks his hips, full and heavy and leaking at the tip. It's been so long since someone worked him over like this, and he loves that it's someone as eager as Steve - the simple fact that it is Steve down between his legs, those glimpses of dark blue eyes, the muscles of his broad shoulders shifting. Three fingers still isn't as big as Steve's cock, but Tony doesn't have the patience for much more.]

Should be ready now. If you wanna- [And yeah, Steve's obviously not going to back out now, but Tony still feels the need to offer him an out, like a gentleman, just in case he decides he doesn't really want to lose his virginity at a hundred and whatever years old.]

If I wanna, he says. [ Steve shakes his head with a small chuckle. If that isn't enough to dismiss the insane idea that he might back out at this stage, the unabashed quickness with which Steve sets about grabbing the lube and coating his dick ought to hammer the message home. His dick is so sensitive it feels like he could go off from a mere breeze; beads of pre-cum drip out steadily as he strokes himself with a light touch, just enough to spread the lube evenly.

And then, well. It's time, isn't it? They are really, truly, actually doing this. And it's up to Steve now to keep it moving, so he doesn't give himself the space to hesitate, pushing himself up the bed on his knees until he can settle directly between Tony's thighs. It's hard not to meet Tony's face in this position, with Steve almost hovering over him, and Steve finds he doesn't want to look away. He wants to see it all, commit every micro-expression Tony makes to memory.

With a deep breath, Steve is finally, finally pressing the tip of his cock against Tony's hole. It seems an impossible fit, but the muscle gives just enough, and suddenly the head of his dick is inside of Tony, and Jesus Christ, this really is happening. Tony feels so tight, and the pressure is heavenly against Steve; he continues pushing in slowly, sinking into that sweet heat until he's almost half inside. ]

Tony, fuck, you're so— you feel amazing. Are you good? Please tell me you're still good.

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