[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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(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.
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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).]