[ When Steve wakes up the next morning, he can't remember dozing off, and he no longer has his arm around Tony. Instead, Tony is more or less wrapped around Steve, as if Steve were some kind of body pillow, and he really doesn't hate it. Judging by the light filtering into the room, it's quite early, maybe just after sunrise. Tony will probably be asleep for a while longer but Steve doesn't feel any urge to move. In fact, he thinks he'd be content to stay like this for hours. ]
Fuck Mypillow, [Tony mumbles into Steve's chest a few hours later.] You could sell pillows modeled on your chest and make a mint. [Or maybe Tony's the only one who finds Steve's chest insanely comfortable. At least he's shirtless, so there isn't a conspicuous wet spot from the drooling that definitely did not happen.
The truth is, this is the first time in a long time - maybe ever - that Tony's woken up feeling rested and refreshed. In fact, he feels like he's a good ten years younger; all those aches and pains that he associates with aging are gone, at least for the moment, and he just feels this indefinable sense of rightness, like this is where he's supposed to be here and now. It's weird, but in a good way.
But also-]
You need a coffee machine in your room.
[Though Tony already feels more alert than he usually does without caffeine in his system.]
[ Steve has been basking in that indefinably right feeling since he woke up. The way that he felt as the morning sun washed over them, it was the closest that Steve thinks he's ever come to peace. He could lie to himself and pretend it's because they won and for the first time in years the threat of Thanos doesn't hang over them. But he hasn't stayed in bed for hours because he was enjoying the absence of enemies; he was enjoying the presence of Tony. He was really enjoying it.
Fuck. He's in way over his head here.
Naturally, Tony starts to stir just as Steve begins to realize that he's just had one of the best nights, followed by one of the best mornings, of his life, and the person he shared it with isn't nearly the hopeless romantic that Steve has always been. But then Tony brings up the coffee machine and Steve's emotional whiplash leaves him dizzy from how quickly he snaps back to the moment. ]
Yeah? You planning on waking up here often? [ It's as much a question as it is an invitation, and Steve desperately hopes that Tony wasn't just humoring him last night. Everything comes to an end, sure, but he hopes not this, not yet. ]
[Except Tony would still have to get up to get it, and that sounds like a problem to him. One he could definitely remedy with some tinkering in the workshop, sure, but he's not sure how much Steve wants his room remodeled just so Tony can have coffee in bed.
On the other hand...]
'Course, we could always end up in my room next time.
[Tony absolutely didn't skimp on the beds - or anything else in the compound - but if pressed, he would admit that his own room is just a little bit nicer, his mattress a little bit more comfortable. The main disadvantage it has is that it doesn't contain Steve, but this is obviously something that could be remedied.
...also the coffee thing. Which, actually, it's kind of surprising Tony hasn't rigged that up yet.]
As long as we make it out of the gym next time. Probably shouldn't make a habit of that. [ If there is a hint of lament in Steve's voice, it's because, well, that was really hot. But duty comes first and they really should be respectful of communal spaces. ]
[Give Tony an inch, he'll take a mile - or, in this case, mentally construct a checklist of places where he wants to have sex with Steve. And, really, he can't be expected to keep his hands to himself if he happens to see Steve working out in criminally tight t-shirts. He doesn't even know how his self-restraint lasted this long.
(Yes, he does, and cold showers were involved.)
Tony tips his head up and plants a perfectly innocent kiss at the base of Steve's neck.]
But, okay, I guess I'll stop working out. It'll be a real struggle, but if it's the only way to keep you from pinning me up against the mats, it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make.
[ Steve has had about as many sexual fantasies about Tony as the two of them have had arguments (no correlation, of course) so it's no small sacrifice for him to suggest the gym is off limits. He's imagined bending Tony over a weight bench, sucking him off in the showers, backing him up against the door of his locker... the list is extensive. And not confined to the gym area; his imagination works just as well when it comes to the kitchen counter, the gazebo out by the lake, the quinjet in the aircraft hangar... ]
So selfless of you, [ he teases Tony right back. A dappling of red on his cheeks betrays how he feels when Tony kisses his neck, and he figures if that's allowed, then it shouldn't be a problem for him to run his fingers through Tony's hair. ]
I hope I can find some kind of cardio to replace it, [Tony deadpans, though his voice wavers a little when Steve starts to run his fingers through his hair. He should put a stop to this kind of casual flirting, except it's one of those things Tony finds easier than breathing. He just doesn't normally do it with Steve, for a lot of reasons. (Okay, so the "Steve probably isn't into men" reason has been very solidly disproven, but there are others.)
But Tony doesn't want to stop. He likes this easy rapport between them - god, it's so much less complicated than fighting all the time (although that has a certain appeal). He's too fucking tired to keep pushing against Steve, the original immovable object, and he thinks that maybe Steve might feel the same way about their arguing.
So, yeah, some kind of truce sounds pretty good to Tony right now. Because if he starts pissing Steve off again, then he's definitely not going to have more mornings like this, and right now, this is pretty much everything he wants in life.]
Well. If you need someone to put you through your paces, I guess I can accept that responsibility. [ Steve is a say-what-you-mean type of guy, so this casual flirting thing never came easy to him before, when he used to chalk it up to Tony teasing him for his prudishness. It's easier to join in now that he knows there's some actual intent behind Tony's flirting. Steve no longer feels like the butt of a joke.
He's not being entirely facetious, either. Fucking Tony is much more enjoyable than trying to get Tony to team training on time, or getting him to focus on an exercise when his mind is back in his workshop, or in the boardroom, or any of the hundreds of other places his thoughts seem to travel to when Steve is speaking. If it takes involving his dick to get Tony's full attention, that's a sacrifice Steve is more than willing to make. ]
And, much like working out in the gym, you'll barely break a sweat by the time I'm exhausted.
[Because, yes, Tony's beginning to get a solid feeling for Steve's sexual stamina, and it's just as ridiculous as the rest of him. Tony has no chance of keeping up, even though he's half Steve's age. Biology isn't his field, but he's starting to feel like he might need to try dabbling in it (and what could possibly go wrong there?)]
[ If Steve wanted to sleep with someone who could keep up with him, he could find that no problem. But he doesn't expect that would make Tony feel any better, so he keeps the thought to himself. ]
It's only unfair if one person has all the advantage.
C'mon, you could work your way through half the Kama Sutra and still have a few more orgasms in you.
[That might be a slight exaggeration, but not by much, Tony's sure. He pats one large pec gently.]
Whereas my most impressive sexual organ is my brain, which is admittedly just as impressive as your dick, but without the advantage of enhanced stamina.
Stamina isn't everything, [ Steve has to insist. Increased stamina is the sort of thing that sounds great on paper but is markedly less enjoyable when all a guy wants is to be able to jerk off and quickly fall asleep. ]
Besides, you've programmed a robot to make you smoothies when your hands are full. Since when do you just accept physical limitations?
Are you saying you want me to build you a fuckbot? Because that's kind of an ethically sketchy area of AI.
[meanwhile, in westview...
No he's joking! About building Steve a fuckbot, not about the ethics, because it absolutely is sketchy. But he's definitely filing that comment away for later.]
Also, smoothie-making and sex are two different things. You don't want a blender by your junk.
[ Steve has better sense than to mention that Tony has historically exhibited little regard for the ethics of AI. They're having a nice morning and he doesn't want to ruin it. ]
You know that's not what I meant, [ he says with a dramatic sigh, still shuffling his fingers gently through Tony's hair. He'll forgive it, because group therapy made him a better listener, and he thinks he has a good sense of what Tony's hang up is. ] I feel like I should say this explicitly, just in case: please don't build me a fuckbot.
[ He opens his mouth to add something, then shuts it just as quickly. He was doing to say that things made from metal don't do it for him, but that isn't entirely true. He's had some thoughts about the armor, he can't deny, and bending someone over the shield has appeal. ]
Only if you promise to keep touching my hair like that.
[Tony almost says petting, because that's definitely what it is, but that sounds way too intimate. Even though they definitely spent all night spooning, and now they're cuddling, and oh god, it's practically domestic and Tony can't decide if he wants to vomit or die (the latter in a wholly positive way because he feels almost like a teenage girl).]
Any sex toys you want me to engineer for you? What revs your engine?
Have you... actually engineered sex toys before? [ The question serves a dual purpose for Steve: one, satisfying his genuine curiosity, and two, deflecting from having to answer the second question. The thing is, right now, he'd be hard-pressed to think of an answer that doesn't circle back to Tony. It's the best and also only experience he has to go off of, but Steve is wary of coming on too strong. (He says while still in bed with the man.) ]
Hey, when you need a very particular itch scratched, sometimes you gotta do it yourself. [Tony just looks coy with his not-quite-answer, his lips curving in a smirk. Even if he hasn't (and that seems unlikely, knowing Tony), inventing - or improving - things is what he does. If Steve wants, for example, a vibrator cast from a silicone mold of Tony's dick, Tony's more than happy to deliver. If he wants a dildo the size of a Hulk dick, well, then Tony's probably going to have some questions. (A lot of questions, and probably some medical advice.)]
[ Steve does have an itch, but it's not one he can scratch himself. He is a bit concerned about admitting it, because as much as Tony turns everything into a joke, often sexual, he is also highly protective of certain inventions. But hey, it can't hurt to ask in a totally non-specific, entirely general sort of way. Right?
He clears his throat nervously before biting the bullet.] What about, uh— have you ever... with the suit...?
[Tony laughs, but there's nothing mocking about his tone - amused, sure, but not in the sense that he's making fun of Steve. He does have to bury his face in Steve's chest while his shoulders shake, but that's perfectly normal. Finally, he's composed enough to grin up at Steve.]
Oh, is that how it is? You're only in it for the chance to get some iron dick?
Yeah, I guess you figured me out. [ Steve says with a resigned sigh. His face feels hot and he knows his cheeks are turning pink, but at least Tony is too busy getting his laughs in to notice. Probably. It's too bad that the way he laughs into Steve's pecs is somehow endearing. ]
[Nope, sorry, Tony notices that completely adorable blush. He tries to push himself up to kiss the corner of Steve's lips, but forgets himself and uses his bad arm, which crumples under the weight. Tony swears under his breath and rubs his arm ruefully.]
Despite what the tabloids might say, most people aren't real into the suit. Which means, actually, that you have better taste than most. [Tony flashes a crooked smile at Steve.] Let's just say that the nanites offer some flexibility as far as, ah, temporary modifications go. And once I figure out the subdermal nanites, then, yeah, you can just have an iron dick. I mean, not all by itself, it'd still be attached to my body, although I could absolutely make one separate-
[ Tony told him not to make a big deal of it, so as much as Steve wants to do something, anything, to ease the discomfort, he knows the best course of action is to ignore it. Pretend nothing happened. The thing is, Steve could tell what Tony was going for, and he's not pleased about missing out on that kiss. He decides to right that wrong immediately, and when he brings his hand around Tony's neck and pulls him in until their lips touch, it has the added benefit of putting an end to Tony's rambling. ]
[Tony had actually been going for a more casual kiss - he's not sure when they arrived at a state of casual kissing, but it probably has something to do with waking up in bed together - but he's not going to complain about something more intimate, or about Steve putting a stop to his pre-caffeine rambling. It's nice, being together like this. A lot nicer than the interactions that end in one of them storming away from the other, and Tony's still kind of waiting for the other shoe to drop there. Things won't stay like this for long, he's sure of it - and god, it's going to hurt when he's inevitably proven right. More than it did before, even more than when Steve bruised his ribs in Siberia.
And yet, he can't bring himself to stop kissing Steve.]
[ At this point, loss is Steve's old, familiar friend. In this analogy, he doesn't particularly like that friend, but the recognition is always there. The expectation, too. Steve has never once in his life gotten to keep something good, and he doesn't expect any different here.
What he's learned is to savor every moment, because eventually, only memories remain. And if he can't keep this, he at least wants to limit how much regret those memories carry. So he isn't thinking about hedging his bets so that Tony doesn't get an inkling of how he really feels. He's only thinking about all the things he'll regret never doing if he doesn't take the chance now.
And so, as nerve-wracking as it should be, it is actually alarmingly easy to kiss Tony. It's even easier to keep kissing him. Steve puts his lung capacity to the test, the way he chases Tony's lips after every kiss, not letting him slip away even for a few seconds.
When they break apart, it's just barely: Steve winds up with his forehead pressed against Tony's and they're still close enough to feel each other's breath. ]
It's not about the iron dick. [ Steve figures that's safe to say because Tony is so blind to genuine compliments that he'd never follow the statement to its logical conclusion: the implication that it's about Tony, actually, and not so much the suit. ]
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The truth is, this is the first time in a long time - maybe ever - that Tony's woken up feeling rested and refreshed. In fact, he feels like he's a good ten years younger; all those aches and pains that he associates with aging are gone, at least for the moment, and he just feels this indefinable sense of rightness, like this is where he's supposed to be here and now. It's weird, but in a good way.
But also-]
You need a coffee machine in your room.
[Though Tony already feels more alert than he usually does without caffeine in his system.]
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Fuck. He's in way over his head here.
Naturally, Tony starts to stir just as Steve begins to realize that he's just had one of the best nights, followed by one of the best mornings, of his life, and the person he shared it with isn't nearly the hopeless romantic that Steve has always been. But then Tony brings up the coffee machine and Steve's emotional whiplash leaves him dizzy from how quickly he snaps back to the moment. ]
Yeah? You planning on waking up here often? [ It's as much a question as it is an invitation, and Steve desperately hopes that Tony wasn't just humoring him last night. Everything comes to an end, sure, but he hopes not this, not yet. ]
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[Except Tony would still have to get up to get it, and that sounds like a problem to him. One he could definitely remedy with some tinkering in the workshop, sure, but he's not sure how much Steve wants his room remodeled just so Tony can have coffee in bed.
On the other hand...]
'Course, we could always end up in my room next time.
[Tony absolutely didn't skimp on the beds - or anything else in the compound - but if pressed, he would admit that his own room is just a little bit nicer, his mattress a little bit more comfortable. The main disadvantage it has is that it doesn't contain Steve, but this is obviously something that could be remedied.
...also the coffee thing. Which, actually, it's kind of surprising Tony hasn't rigged that up yet.]
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[Give Tony an inch, he'll take a mile - or, in this case, mentally construct a checklist of places where he wants to have sex with Steve. And, really, he can't be expected to keep his hands to himself if he happens to see Steve working out in criminally tight t-shirts. He doesn't even know how his self-restraint lasted this long.
(Yes, he does, and cold showers were involved.)
Tony tips his head up and plants a perfectly innocent kiss at the base of Steve's neck.]
But, okay, I guess I'll stop working out. It'll be a real struggle, but if it's the only way to keep you from pinning me up against the mats, it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make.
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So selfless of you, [ he teases Tony right back. A dappling of red on his cheeks betrays how he feels when Tony kisses his neck, and he figures if that's allowed, then it shouldn't be a problem for him to run his fingers through Tony's hair. ]
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But Tony doesn't want to stop. He likes this easy rapport between them - god, it's so much less complicated than fighting all the time (although that has a certain appeal). He's too fucking tired to keep pushing against Steve, the original immovable object, and he thinks that maybe Steve might feel the same way about their arguing.
So, yeah, some kind of truce sounds pretty good to Tony right now. Because if he starts pissing Steve off again, then he's definitely not going to have more mornings like this, and right now, this is pretty much everything he wants in life.]
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He's not being entirely facetious, either. Fucking Tony is much more enjoyable than trying to get Tony to team training on time, or getting him to focus on an exercise when his mind is back in his workshop, or in the boardroom, or any of the hundreds of other places his thoughts seem to travel to when Steve is speaking. If it takes involving his dick to get Tony's full attention, that's a sacrifice Steve is more than willing to make. ]
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[Because, yes, Tony's beginning to get a solid feeling for Steve's sexual stamina, and it's just as ridiculous as the rest of him. Tony has no chance of keeping up, even though he's half Steve's age. Biology isn't his field, but he's starting to feel like he might need to try dabbling in it (and what could possibly go wrong there?)]
Totally unfair.
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It's only unfair if one person has all the advantage.
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[That might be a slight exaggeration, but not by much, Tony's sure. He pats one large pec gently.]
Whereas my most impressive sexual organ is my brain, which is admittedly just as impressive as your dick, but without the advantage of enhanced stamina.
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Besides, you've programmed a robot to make you smoothies when your hands are full. Since when do you just accept physical limitations?
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[
meanwhile, in westview...No he's joking! About building Steve a fuckbot, not about the ethics, because it absolutely is sketchy. But he's definitely filing that comment away for later.]
Also, smoothie-making and sex are two different things. You don't want a blender by your junk.
[...unless that's somehow your kink.]
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You know that's not what I meant, [ he says with a dramatic sigh, still shuffling his fingers gently through Tony's hair. He'll forgive it, because group therapy made him a better listener, and he thinks he has a good sense of what Tony's hang up is. ] I feel like I should say this explicitly, just in case: please don't build me a fuckbot.
[ He opens his mouth to add something, then shuts it just as quickly. He was doing to say that things made from metal don't do it for him, but that isn't entirely true. He's had some thoughts about the armor, he can't deny, and bending someone over the shield has appeal. ]
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[Tony almost says petting, because that's definitely what it is, but that sounds way too intimate. Even though they definitely spent all night spooning, and now they're cuddling, and oh god, it's practically domestic and Tony can't decide if he wants to vomit or die (the latter in a wholly positive way because he feels almost like a teenage girl).]
Any sex toys you want me to engineer for you? What revs your engine?
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He clears his throat nervously before biting the bullet.] What about, uh— have you ever... with the suit...?
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Oh, is that how it is? You're only in it for the chance to get some iron dick?
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Despite what the tabloids might say, most people aren't real into the suit. Which means, actually, that you have better taste than most. [Tony flashes a crooked smile at Steve.] Let's just say that the nanites offer some flexibility as far as, ah, temporary modifications go. And once I figure out the subdermal nanites, then, yeah, you can just have an iron dick. I mean, not all by itself, it'd still be attached to my body, although I could absolutely make one separate-
[please make him stop talking]
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And yet, he can't bring himself to stop kissing Steve.]
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What he's learned is to savor every moment, because eventually, only memories remain. And if he can't keep this, he at least wants to limit how much regret those memories carry. So he isn't thinking about hedging his bets so that Tony doesn't get an inkling of how he really feels. He's only thinking about all the things he'll regret never doing if he doesn't take the chance now.
And so, as nerve-wracking as it should be, it is actually alarmingly easy to kiss Tony. It's even easier to keep kissing him. Steve puts his lung capacity to the test, the way he chases Tony's lips after every kiss, not letting him slip away even for a few seconds.
When they break apart, it's just barely: Steve winds up with his forehead pressed against Tony's and they're still close enough to feel each other's breath. ]
It's not about the iron dick. [ Steve figures that's safe to say because Tony is so blind to genuine compliments that he'd never follow the statement to its logical conclusion: the implication that it's about Tony, actually, and not so much the suit. ]
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