[Tony doesn't need to see Steve to feel the tension in his muscles, and although he doesn't know all his concerns, he can guess that Steve's worried about being a clumsy virgin. He kisses Steve's lower lip, a little more focused this time, trying to encourage him to relax.
Of course, for Tony, relaxing is next to impossible when he's got one of Steve's fingers pressing into him. He's trying not to go feral at the smallest amount of stimulation, but it's hard - he doesn't care if it's perfect, right now he just wants Steve. Tony doesn't expect perfect sex - doesn't believe there is any such thing, because it doesn't matter. (And who knew that Tony Stark, professional hedonist, was really a romantic at heart? Well, besides Steve.)]
[ The kiss muffles an almost pained sound that dies in Steve's throat; Tony still feels impossibly tight and he can't imagine how he'll fit. At the same time, he feels almost wild with all-consuming need to bury himself inside. Steve is still mostly clothed, a fact he is idly aware of, somewhere in the furthest recesses of his mind. It's not a priority. His kissing goes clumsy and uncoordinated as he reaches down to guide the head of his dick up against Tony's hole, giving a careful first push that has him whining and seeing stars. He has barely worked the head of his dick in when he starts gasping against Tony's open mouth. ]
Oh fuck, Tony, you feel— [ He breaks off into heavy, exhilarated breaths, which is just as well. There aren't words to describe how incredible Tony feels. ]
[With anyone else, Tony would have just pushed them back on the bed and climbed on to take matters into his own hands, but he physically can't do that with Steve, as much as he wants to. But finally, finally Steve starts to push in slowly, and oh fucking Christ, it's a good thing they're married because Steve is going to ruin him for anyone else.]
Steve, [he manages to half-pant, half-moan.] Oh god, Steve. [Steve is perfect, everything is perfect, this is all he wants in life (apart from more of Steve's dick).]
[ Time stretches into eternity as Steve continues to sink in, his free hand reaching up to caress Tony's face, his every breath a hot gasp against Tony's lips. His wide-eyed, enraptured gaze watches closely for encouragement or signs of discomfort from Tony, taking in every nonverbal cue to keep moving. And keep moving he does, pushing in until he's all the way in, closer to Tony than he ever knew two people could be. It takes everything in him to hold still, then, letting Tony adjust to the stretch of him; he runs a hand through Tony's sweat-damp hair and presses their foreheads together and breathes through it. ]
[Tony just keeps taking deep breaths and reminding himself to relax - the last thing his body wants to do right now - as Steve stretches him out past a point he thought was possible. Steve finally bottoms out, every last inch of him buried inside Tony, and god, it was worth waiting for this moment, for Steve's forehead pressed against his and his breath mingling with Tony's. He shifts his body a little, wraps his legs around Steve's waist and lets him settle at a new angle. His cock aches for more, leaking where it's trapped between the two of them, and Tony gives in.]
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Of course, for Tony, relaxing is next to impossible when he's got one of Steve's fingers pressing into him. He's trying not to go feral at the smallest amount of stimulation, but it's hard - he doesn't care if it's perfect, right now he just wants Steve. Tony doesn't expect perfect sex - doesn't believe there is any such thing, because it doesn't matter. (And who knew that Tony Stark, professional hedonist, was really a romantic at heart? Well, besides Steve.)]
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Oh fuck, Tony, you feel— [ He breaks off into heavy, exhilarated breaths, which is just as well. There aren't words to describe how incredible Tony feels. ]
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Steve, [he manages to half-pant, half-moan.] Oh god, Steve. [Steve is perfect, everything is perfect, this is all he wants in life (apart from more of Steve's dick).]
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C'mon, Steve, fuck me.