[ Steve forgets what he was going to say. It doesn't matter, whatever it was. Tony is kissing him again, and this time Steve can't write it off as being caught up in the heat of a moment, this is wholly intentional. Real.
He reaches down to pull the bottle from between Tony's legs and set it on the floor. With that out of the way, he can press himself up as close to Tony as possible. He digs his hand into Tony's hair as he deepens the kiss. ]
[Tony has his own opinions on how things should be (big surprise), and he just scoots forward and lets himself fall into Steve's lap. It's much better - a more comfortable seat, for one thing, and they're on the same level, and they can press up against each other all they want. The move isn't terribly graceful, but that's what happens when you have two fucked up hands and have to rely on gravity to do your dirty work.]
Too bad telepathy isn't an option, [Tony muses when they stop to catch their breath.] Imagine me talking in your head.
[This would actually be the worst punishment imaginable for everyone but Steve.]
You wanna drive me crazy. [ Steve says, sounding breathless and dazed in the best possible way. He wouldn't survive Tony in his head, he's sure of that. As it is, he felt like he could burn up from the inside from the mere suggestion Tony planted in his mind about beard burn, and he was speaking aloud then. Good think Steve loves a challenge. ] Tell me what you're thinking anyway.
[A normal person might take this opportunity to vomit up a decade's worth of buried sentiment, all the feelings Tony's thought about in quiet moments at night and then shoved behind a locked door like one of those storage closets that threatens to unleash an avalanche on the hapless idiot who opens it. Tony has never, ever been a normal person.]
Well, at just that moment, I was thinking about how if I had telepathy, I'd say dirty things in your mind while you were in line at Starbucks, for example, and I'd be like "Oh, Steve, that pumpkin spice latte is hotter than the way you moaned my name when I swallowed your dick last night" and you'd get embarrassingly hard in public and not be able to do anything about it till you got home, but then you'd probably get your revenge when I was in a board meeting and start telling me everything you wanted to do in excruciating detail and I'd just be stuck there staring at investors for, like, an hour.
[ Between the warmth of Tony sitting in his lap and the ideas that he puts in Steve's head, Steve can't help jerking his hips up off the floor, pressing his hardening cock against Tony. ]
Mm. You'd be so helpless, sitting there trying to keep your composure, picturing all the things I'm saying in your mind. [ With his bandaged hand, Steve pulls on Tony's collar until their lips bump into another kiss. Clumsy yet effective seems the theme. ]
[Thankfully, Steve's lips cut him off, and they're safe from Tony's horny stream of consciousness for the moment. Instead, he shifts to straddle Steve properly so he can grind down against him. Tony's not sure how they can manage any sort of penetrative sex with one and a half functional hands between them, but, hell, he's fine with a bit of frottage.]
[ Steve whines into the kiss as Tony grinds against him. In the back of his mind, he worries that the novelty will wear off and Tony will tire of his body's heightened drive. So when he breaks the kiss to say— ] We really don't have to do anything... [ —it's because he wants Tony to understand that they don't have to follow where Steve's body leads. In fact, they probably shouldn't. Keeping up with his dick is not something he needs Tony to strive for, or feel any type of way when he inevitably can't. No one really can, and that's something Steve came to terms with ages ago. ]
[Meanwhile, Tony's starting to consider the scientific challenge of increasing his own sex drive (among other things). There has to be a way to juice his libido up without the massive mistake of attempting to recreate the serum, which has clearly led to way too many fuckups and is beyond even Tony's willingness to use himself as a lab rat.]
You might not have noticed, but when you get horny, I get horny. [Tony softens his sarcasm with a kiss, then nuzzles Steve's jaw. God, he loves that jawline.] Can't say I'm wild about dry-humping on the bathroom floor, though, so if you'd like to relocate...
Say no more. [ Luckily, Steve's hand isn't so injured as to prevent him from dramatic displays of strength. He uses his thighs to lift Tony from the floor, secures a grip with his better hand, and lifts Tony with him as he stands. His balance falters for just a moment; once recovered, he moves them past the threshold into the bedroom. He means to deposit Tony on his still unmade bed, but along the way another idea strikes, and he ends up pressing Tony up against the glass wall looking out onto the grounds. ]
[Oh. Hello. Tony obliges by wrapping his legs around Steve's waist and his arms around Steve's neck. The chill of the glass seeps through the thin fabric of his t-shirt and provides a pleasant contrast to the heat that practically rolls off of Steve's body.]
Okay, being carried like that is my new kink. Extremely my new kink.
[Not to mention being so effectively pressed up against the wall. Tony enjoys walling - and being walled - in general, but there's something about the way Steve does it so effortlessly (like he does practically everything) that turns him on even more.
Maybe it's just because it's Steve doing it. Tony thinks about this as he tilts his head up just slightly and kisses Steve with a renewed hunger, one hand sliding up Steve's neck into his hair.]
You're my new kink. [ Steve murmurs before Tony silences him with another kiss. It may not make any real sense. Thinking is hard to do with Tony this close to him. His hands will have to do the talking as he slips one of them under the hem of Tony's shirt, scraping blunt fingernails along the expanse of his abdomen, up to his chest where he teases the pad of his thumb over Tony's nipple. ]
You're half right. [ Steve doesn't elaborate on which half; he's busy dragging his palm down Tony's torso, swiftly undoing the knot keeping the sweatpants up so he can pull out Tony's cock. As he kisses along the line of Tony's jaw, he whispers against the skin, ] Fuck. You're so hard for me. So good.
[And, not incidentally, because of Steve - although Tony's ultimately the one responsible for this round. But he's already noticed that their arousal loops around and feeds on itself like a horny orobouros until it all blurs together and there's no way of telling who's at fault.]
[ Steve chuckles, finding the very thought preposterous. ] I'm not gonna drop you, [ he says, lips brushing against Tony's neck as he speaks. He kisses a path all the way down to Tony's collarbone as his free hand moves down between them to tease the head of Tony's dick with a feather-light touch. They'll have to move away from the window eventually, as the need for lube increases, but Steve is content to do whatever he can without it for the time being. He really wants to take his time with Tony this round. ]
[Some of the tension actually seeps out of Tony's frame as Steve starts to touch him. This is familiar territory - not with Steve specifically (not yet) - but it's something his body's used to, it feels good, and he's at the point where he can settle in for (hopefully) more than fifteen minutes before they drive each other crazy with lust.]
How's the light in here?
[Tony likes non sequiturs, in case you hadn't noticed.]
[ Early afternoon light diffuses through the window and outlines Tony like a warm aura. He looks like a dream, like a prize, like the universe gilded a trophy just for Steve. ]
It's fine, [ is what he manages to say. Slowly, he strokes Tony with a light touch while his gaze bores into Tony's eyes. ] You look good in every light.
Hmm. [ As thoughtful as that is, and as much as it warms Steve's heart, it also indicates that he isn't doing a good enough job of holding Tony's attention. After one final, languid stroke, Steve places both hands under Tony's thighs and carries him away from the window and over to the bed. He lowers Tony onto the mattress and positions himself a bit further down, gets his good hand back on Tony's dick and licks a filthy stripe along the length of him. Then he looks up with a raised brow. ] Still thinking about hobbies?
[In Tony's defense, it's a very roundabout way of implying that maybe possibly he thinks that they should be sharing a bedroom and he's inviting Steve to consider the prospect, because even now that they've more or less admitted their feelings, he can't just come out and say they should shack up.
(What Tony really wants is their own home, not just a bedroom and bathroom in communal living, but a place that belongs to both of them, and also a place where they can fuck everywhere without having to worry about everyone else walking in on them.)
He's jarred out of his little domestic fantasy, but all things being equal, Tony doesn't mind - not with Steve's tongue doing wicked things to his erection.]
If you want to take up sucking my cock as a hobby, I won't object.
Maybe I will. [ He says with a devilish smirk before wrapping his lips around the head of Tony's cock. His tongue teases the tip as Steve works more and more of Tony into his mouth; every now and then he'll pull off almost completely just to let Tony fuck back in. By the time that Tony's cock is tickling the back of his throat, Steve feels like he is weightless, floating in place with only Tony to keep him tethered down.
His mind is peacefully blank— and then it isn't. The thought occurs belatedly, as if his brain was processing in the background, only alerting him once all the pieces fell into place. Gently, he pulls off of Tony's dick and swipes the drool from his mouth. ] Hold on. If this became a studio, where would I sleep?
[ He has a feeling that he knows the answer, but if he's wrong, they might never recover from the awkwardness. ]
[Tony thinks about throwing a pillow at Steve, remembers he's got two shitty hands right now, and settles for letting his head fall back on the bed with a dramatically frustrated groan. Really, Steve? Is this the time to be asking these questions?]
Steve, you're practically gargling my balls right now, what do you think the answer to that question is?
[Tony's constant anxiety offers a few helpful suggestions - maybe it's too soon, maybe Steve doesn't want to be around him all the fucking time, maybe he talks in his sleep (although Tony doesn't care about that) - and the trickle of fear worries away at him like a stream eroding a riverbed, etching its way onto his psyche, joining the river of insecurities (you're not good enough).]
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Mmm, and the hair, too.
[Without giving Steve a chance to answer, Tony tilts his head just enough to capture his lips in a kiss.]
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He reaches down to pull the bottle from between Tony's legs and set it on the floor. With that out of the way, he can press himself up as close to Tony as possible. He digs his hand into Tony's hair as he deepens the kiss. ]
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Too bad telepathy isn't an option, [Tony muses when they stop to catch their breath.] Imagine me talking in your head.
[This would actually be the worst punishment imaginable for everyone but Steve.]
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Well, at just that moment, I was thinking about how if I had telepathy, I'd say dirty things in your mind while you were in line at Starbucks, for example, and I'd be like "Oh, Steve, that pumpkin spice latte is hotter than the way you moaned my name when I swallowed your dick last night" and you'd get embarrassingly hard in public and not be able to do anything about it till you got home, but then you'd probably get your revenge when I was in a board meeting and start telling me everything you wanted to do in excruciating detail and I'd just be stuck there staring at investors for, like, an hour.
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Mm. You'd be so helpless, sitting there trying to keep your composure, picturing all the things I'm saying in your mind. [ With his bandaged hand, Steve pulls on Tony's collar until their lips bump into another kiss. Clumsy yet effective seems the theme. ]
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[Thankfully, Steve's lips cut him off, and they're safe from Tony's horny stream of consciousness for the moment. Instead, he shifts to straddle Steve properly so he can grind down against him. Tony's not sure how they can manage any sort of penetrative sex with one and a half functional hands between them, but, hell, he's fine with a bit of frottage.]
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You might not have noticed, but when you get horny, I get horny. [Tony softens his sarcasm with a kiss, then nuzzles Steve's jaw. God, he loves that jawline.] Can't say I'm wild about dry-humping on the bathroom floor, though, so if you'd like to relocate...
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Okay, being carried like that is my new kink. Extremely my new kink.
[Not to mention being so effectively pressed up against the wall. Tony enjoys walling - and being walled - in general, but there's something about the way Steve does it so effortlessly (like he does practically everything) that turns him on even more.
Maybe it's just because it's Steve doing it. Tony thinks about this as he tilts his head up just slightly and kisses Steve with a renewed hunger, one hand sliding up Steve's neck into his hair.]
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[Maybe new in the sense of experiencing it, anyway, but he's not here to argue about semantics.]
Maybe you've been jerking it to handsome men with goatees for years now and I've just never known.
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[And, not incidentally, because of Steve - although Tony's ultimately the one responsible for this round. But he's already noticed that their arousal loops around and feeds on itself like a horny orobouros until it all blurs together and there's no way of telling who's at fault.]
If you're gonna do that, you better not drop me.
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[Some of the tension actually seeps out of Tony's frame as Steve starts to touch him. This is familiar territory - not with Steve specifically (not yet) - but it's something his body's used to, it feels good, and he's at the point where he can settle in for (hopefully) more than fifteen minutes before they drive each other crazy with lust.]
How's the light in here?
[Tony likes non sequiturs, in case you hadn't noticed.]
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It's fine, [ is what he manages to say. Slowly, he strokes Tony with a light touch while his gaze bores into Tony's eyes. ] You look good in every light.
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[Tony stretches a little and luxuriates in the touch, in being looked at. He's perfectly content to be an object of desire for Steve right now.]
I was just thinking that you could use this as a studio. Or, uh, use a different room as a studio. You know. Have some space for hobbies.
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(What Tony really wants is their own home, not just a bedroom and bathroom in communal living, but a place that belongs to both of them, and also a place where they can fuck everywhere without having to worry about everyone else walking in on them.)
He's jarred out of his little domestic fantasy, but all things being equal, Tony doesn't mind - not with Steve's tongue doing wicked things to his erection.]
If you want to take up sucking my cock as a hobby, I won't object.
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His mind is peacefully blank— and then it isn't. The thought occurs belatedly, as if his brain was processing in the background, only alerting him once all the pieces fell into place. Gently, he pulls off of Tony's dick and swipes the drool from his mouth. ] Hold on. If this became a studio, where would I sleep?
[ He has a feeling that he knows the answer, but if he's wrong, they might never recover from the awkwardness. ]
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Steve, you're practically gargling my balls right now, what do you think the answer to that question is?
[Tony's constant anxiety offers a few helpful suggestions - maybe it's too soon, maybe Steve doesn't want to be around him all the fucking time, maybe he talks in his sleep (although Tony doesn't care about that) - and the trickle of fear worries away at him like a stream eroding a riverbed, etching its way onto his psyche, joining the river of insecurities (you're not good enough).]