Chapter Text
“It’s gorgeous.”
Tony is jarred from his thoughts by Pepper’s soft voice. He hadn’t heard her walk up. He glances at her over his shoulder and then goes back to staring at the sculpture recently installed in the atrium of the lobby.
Steve’s sculpture.
It’s the third time today he’s come all the way down here to look at it. Stare at it.
Objectively he knows it’s a good piece of work. It’s balanced in form, balanced in color. It’s equal parts sleek and jagged, kinetic and still. There’s a sense of movement and a sense of force, like trying to contain something that refuses to be contained. He can parcel it down to its separate pieces; admire its construction and how it functions.
Art is just math, expressed with a different set of symbols.
But he finds nothing concrete to account for the feeling he gets every time he looks at it. It’s more beautiful than the most advanced equation he could ever fathom.
Beside him, Pepper stays silent.
He doesn’t know how much time he lets pass before he speaks but she waits patiently, knowing that he’s eventually going to have something to say.
“I don’t want to fuck everything up.”
“So don’t fuck it up.” Pepper replies. Like it’s that simple. Pepper puts her hand on his arm, pulls him to look at her. “You have to at least try, Tony.”
“Why?”
“Because he loves you too.”
“That’s not enough.”
“It can be.”
She leans in and presses a soft kiss to his cheek. He recognizes it for the blessing it is, but he doesn’t know if he can live up to its promise.
Pepper leaves him be after that, lingering for a few more moments before heading out into the New York City night.
The lights of the sculpture seem to grow brighter as the sun goes down. Tony sits on the marble floor and watches as it all seems to change in front of his eyes, studying it as if it will eventually give him the answers he’s searching for.
He can almost believe this is how Steve sees him because Steve is capable of seeing the good in nearly anyone. What he doesn’t believe is that what Steve sees is what he really is.
He wants Steve so badly that he’s tempted to pretend that doesn’t matter.
He’s spent so long assuming that Steve could never be his that it’s actually overwhelming to think that that might not be true.
Tony spends the rest of the night there, falling asleep slumped at the base of Steve’s sculpture. He wakes up to Happy’s confused face, bending down over him as he’s jostled awake.
“Hey boss.” Happy shakes his shoulder as Tony pries his eyes open, the bright morning sunlight streaming into the atrium absolutely blinding.
“Fuck,” Tony mumbles, rubbing his head and then his neck as he quickly inventories his surroundings, making note that yes, he did actually fall asleep on the floor in the lobby of his own building, and no, he’s not drunk or high or anything that could account for such strange behavior.
Happy is looking at him, eyebrows arched, but after all these years the man’s learnt not to ask. Tony shrugs anyway, grunting.
“I don’t even know, Hap. I was just looking at Steve’s sculpture, guess I lost track of time.”
“It’s a nice looking thing, Boss.”
“A nice looking thing?” Tony repeats in disbelief as Happy helps him up from the floor. He wishes he could’ve completed that move with more grace but he’s really getting too old to be spending nights passed out on marble tile. Every part of his body hurts. “A nice looking thing?”
“Art criticism isn’t really my forte.”
“Well let me tell you…” Tony starts, and then quickly realizes that he has no idea how to verbalize exactly how beautiful Steve’s work seems to him, or why. “Okay, nevermind. Just know that your evaluation of the piece has vastly underwhelmed me.”
“Got it.” Happy steadies him by the elbow and starts gently leading him toward the elevator. When Happy starts punching in the access code for Tony’s upper floors, Tony realizes that’s not at all where he wants to go.
“JARVIS, is Steve home now?”
“Sir, Captain Rogers left early this morning to attend a charity baseball game at the Long Meadow fields in Prospect Park, after which I believe he is scheduled to appear at a luncheon fundraiser for The Children’s Aid Society. After these functions I believe the Captain’s schedule is clear, although Agent Hill has placed a request for his assistance with some matters pertaining to a new training program at SHIELD and Agents Barton, Romanoff and Barnes have demanded his presence at dinner.”
“Oh for christ’s sake.” Tony mumbles. “Just one time I’d like to ask where Steve is and have someone tell me he’s watching reality TV in bed like the rest of the human race.”
“Well, sir, he is Captain America,” Happy states, smiling in amusement.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. He looks like sunshine and smells like apple pie.”
“I wasn’t going to go that far, Boss, but if you say so.”
Tony watches the numbers light up on the way to the top of the Tower and contemplates how he’s going to pass this day away without driving himself crazy. Even though he hasn’t the faintest idea what he’s going to say to Steve, he wants to say it now.
“It’d probably be bad if I crashed his baseball game, right?” Happy doesn’t answer, which is fine, because Tony didn’t need a response. “Right. I could cut a check to the thing with the kids though, maybe. Luncheons are never that great because there’s hardly anything to drink, but maybe in this case…” Happy doesn’t chime in here either, so Tony lets it go. He knows he has to hold off as long as he can; barging into things with Steve hasn’t exactly gone well for him so far and when he wants to, he can learn from his mistakes. Theoretically. In practice…
Tracking Steve down and kissing him senseless seems like a mistake worth making.
“Well I guess I could head to the lab, see what Bruce is up to.” He reaches for the keypad to direct the elevator elsewhere but Happy coughs a little, making him stop.
“Just wanted to point out, Boss, that you do not look like sunshine or smell like apple pie.”
“You telling me I look less than dashing, Hogan? That what you’re implying?” Tony turns to look at his warped reflection on the elevator wall, brushing a hand through his hair, then ducks his head to sniff his shirt. “Ok, so, you might have a point.”
“That’s what you pay me for, sir.”
The elevator doors open on his private quarters, the top story of the Avengers Tower penthouse. He’s already picturing what Steve would look like, stripped naked and waiting for him on his bed.
“JARVIS, will you alert me when Cap comes home?”
“I will, sir.”
“Soon as he gets back.”
“I will, sir.”
“Not a second later.”
“Boss, you know how HAL turns homicidal in 2001?” Happy interjects.
“I was just making sure he understood!”
“I don’t want to have to try and explain to the authorities that you were murdered by an AI. I’d rather not spend the next 25 to life at Sing Sing.”
“Oh, Pep would never let you go down for that.”
“Glad to hear there’s a contingency plan in place.”
“I have contingencies for nearly everything. And I’m quite good at coming up with awesome shit on the fly, too.” Tony grins, waving toward his arc reactor.
“Tony Stark, ready for anything.” Happy states and Tony agrees without thinking, the boast as natural as breathing. It’s not until the elevator doors close on Happy’s departing figure that he stops to consider if it’s true.
He wants it to be true.
*******
He cannot remember a time when he felt this nervous about seeing someone. As prone as he is to hyperbole, it isn’t an exaggeration. His whole body is in tumult: anticipation and anxiety, desire and doubt, all these different emotions tugging him in multiple directions.
Tony considers getting back on the elevator, because it’s not too late to turn back, but he manages to stay still. He doesn’t know if he deserves this, doesn’t know if he’ll be able to keep it, but if he can be with Steve even once he has to do it. He can’t go on imagining what it could be if only he dared.
He’s so on edge that he nearly jumps when the door is finally pulled open.
“Steve,” Tony breathes, somehow unprepared for the sight of him looking so perfect in this casual nothing of a moment. He’s dressed for bed, and these days that means he’s barely dressed at all. No more oversized grandpa pajama sets; just a pair of low slung pants sitting loose on his slim hips. Tony rakes his gaze over Steve’s broad shoulders and down his bare chest to his stomach, following the light barely there trail of hair down to the half-untied drawstring of his pants. It doesn’t seem like he’s wearing anything underneath.
For once, he’s not carefully put together, not smoothed over or pressed and proper, and all can Tony can think is how much he wants to pull Steve close and demolish every last vestige of decorum.
So he does.
Hands at Steve’s shoulders, he takes advantage of Steve’s surprise to back him inside the apartment, letting the door fall shut behind them.
“Been waiting all day for you to get back.” Is the only preamble to him slamming Steve to the wall and kissing him for all he’s worth.
For one brief but wonderful moment, Steve returns the kiss with equal fervor as if the response is automatic. But then his hands are flat against Tony’s chest on either side of the reactor, pushing him back. He doesn’t push hard, just enough to get space between them so he can get words out.
“Tony. Do you really want to do this?” Steve seems almost resigned, a frown already creasing his face. “Because I don’t think I can manage it if you change your mind again.”
“I’ve been wanting to do this since the beginning. There’s never been any doubt about what I wanted. Just what I should do about it.”
Tony leans in to kiss Steve again but he feels Steve tense under his hands, the muscles of Steve’s chest and stomach tightening as he sucks a deep breath in. Tony sighs in response to Steve’s obvious hesitation, even as Steve’s lips part in an incredibly inviting way.
“I don’t know if I deserve you.” He brushes his mouth against Steve’s gently once, then twice, each passing sensation building up an electric charge. “But I’m good at being selfish.”
“I’m not someone to be deserved, Tony. And you’re one of the least selfish people I know.”
“I hardly-“
“Can you not walk away because I’m asking you to stay? Can you please let it be that simple?”
Yes is on the tip of his tongue but it won’t fall all the way over, instead remaining silent there just before the point of speech.
Steve cups the side of his face with one hand, thumb brushing over his cheek. The other falls to Tony’s waist, steady and firm, not pushing but guiding Tony closer.
“I’ve always known my own mind, Tony. I want you.” Tony’s body betrays him, hopelessly shuddering when he feels Steve hard and hot between his legs, Steve rolling his hips ever so slightly to make sure Tony knows. If Steve wants him thinking clearly, this is not the way to do it. All he can think about now is getting Steve’s naked body against his. “But want or not, I can’t if you’re not sure.”
“Never been more sure in my life.” Tony slides his hands around Steve’s waist and then down the back of his pants, fingers spreading wide across the tight swell of Steve’s utterly amazing ass. “And I know we got a lot to talk about and all, but I swear to god I’m not gonna be able to think clearly until I fuck you. Or you fuck me. I don’t even care; I honestly cannot concentrate on anything else besides getting your clothes off right now.”
It’s ridiculous that even as he and Steve are rutting together, Steve actually blushes. Tony captures Steve’s mouth, the kiss graceless and eager and totally desperate. He licks his way inside and draws Steve’s tongue out against his own. Steve groans quietly, hips arching in an aborted thrust. Tony whispers an encouragement, not wanting Steve to hold back.
Tony pulls the drawstring of Steve’s pants all the way loose and drags himself away from Steve’s kiss. He drops to his knees, stripping Steve’s only article of clothing down his strong legs. Tony doesn’t stop to look before engulfing Steve’s length, taking as much down as he can in one smooth movement. He’ll give himself a moment to appraise as soon as he brings Steve to the brink, not willing to risk a moment’s pause for Steve to doubt.
“Oh, Tony,” Steve half-sighs, half-cries, surprised by how fast things are going. One of Steve’s hands settles softly in his hair, and when Tony chances at look upward, Steve’s got his other hand against his own forehead as if he might swoon, color high on his cheeks and his kiss-swollen lips parted as he pants out short, shaky breaths. Steve closes his eyes tightly, opens them and then closes them again, apparently unable to decide how best to cope with the sensations overwhelming him. Tony could lie and say that this wasn’t his intention, but he doesn’t see the point. He kind of wants to blow Steve’s mind before Steve has time to think better of it.
Tony pulls off gently, lips wrapped around the sensitive tip of Steve’s leaking cock, the taste of him gathering on the flat of his tongue. Steve’s eyes flutter open and Tony stares up at him as he wraps his fingers around the impressive girth and pumps slowly, finally looking at the full length of him and letting the visual sink in. He memorizes it, the weight and heat in his hand, tracing the thick vein as blood surges downward to swell Steve’s dick impossibly larger in his grasp.
“Tony…” Steve breathes as Tony leans in and presses kisses to the insides of Steve’s thighs, feeling the muscles tremble underneath his lips. He continues stroking and his mouth caresses everywhere else, following the lines of Steve’s abs and breathing in that heady scent of sex that he never would have believed could hang on Steve.
Old-fashioned, virtuous Steve, standing here in his foyer with his pants around his ankles with one of Tony’s hands gently fondling him between his legs, another jerking his cock, and Tony’s tongue licking at his weeping slit. It’s downright pornographic and Tony’s sure he’ll be going to hell for corrupting Captain America.
It’d totally be worth it.
Even so, he makes to pull back. Steve whimpers at the loss and Tony sucks in a sharp breath, the sound of it making his own dick twitch.
He tilts his head upward and meets Steve’s heated gaze.
“Are you sure about this?” He forces himself to ask, shocked by how wrecked his voice already is. Steve’s fingers flex and then tug a little at his hair before he lets go to use both hands to pull Tony to stand.
“You’re here because you saw the finished sculpture, aren’t you?” Steve responds with his own question, and Tony nods. “Then I don’t see why you’re even asking that.”
He reaches down and grips the bottom hem of Tony’s black tee, lifting upward and giving Tony no choice but to go with it. Steve tosses the shirt aside and pulls Tony back close, the following kiss deep and quite thorough. He’s really good at this kissing thing, good enough that Tony’s actually feeling a bit dizzy. Steve’s hands start to work at his belt and zipper and it takes him a minute to catch up to the action.
“If this is a dream I’m going to cry when I wake up,” Tony mumbles half to himself, half to Steve, kicking off his shoes before they both step out of their pants and fumble toward Steve’s bedroom.
“Not a dream.”
“Can’t be sure. I think I’ve had this dream.”
“So have I.”
“Can’t believe that.” Tony really can’t. He can’t imagine Steve longing for him this way. “Since when?”
“Since Vegas. Aspen. Not really sure.” Steve gently touches the arc reactor with the tips of his fingers, and Tony’s astounded by how the light plays across Steve’s handsome features and that Steve’s attraction to him isn’t some newfound revelation.
“I could’ve…hell, I could’ve had you since Vegas?”
“Can have me now.” Steve reaches down and for the first time wraps his hand on Tony’s cock, giving his entire length a firm stroke. Tony shudders with arousal, doesn’t miss the fact that Steve does too.
“Yep, totally a dream.” Tony gasps against Steve’s lips as he backs him through the bedroom doorway.
“So in your dream what would happen next?”
“I’d get inside you, fuck you nice and slow and hard.” He can feel a surge of pre-come drip from his dick as he speaks the words, the thought more than enough to bring him near the edge. Steve’s face darkens in the best way, his eyes dilating with pleasure. Steve turns and pulls out his nightstand drawer halfway, leaves it hanging open. He then stretches out across his bed.
Tony knows an invitation when he sees one and follows him over, pausing to gather lube and condoms from the drawer. There’s a note alongside the packages and he opens the folded paper.
You hurt him again, I’ll kill you.
He tosses the two items onto the bed beside Steve and turns the note over a few times between two fingers, holding it up in question.
“Bucky or Natasha?” Tony inquires as he crawls onto the bed, straddling Steve’s waist. Steve reaches up and takes the paper.
“Natasha,” He sighs, making a face. “But Bucky’s the one who told me to look in the drawer if this ever happened, so…”
“Team effort. Yay.” Tony chuckles with a half-hearted cheer, trying to take the note back. Steve makes a move to crumple it up and toss it aside but Tony grabs it, straightening the crinkled paper out. He sets it on the nightstand as Steve lifts an eyebrow, confused. “Hey, Cap, I plan on taking that seriously.”
He shifts down the bed, running his hands over Steve’s body, just feeling him react. He’s never felt so powerful and powerless at the same time. He touches and touches, flat of his palms moving over Steve’s skin, trying to follow Steve’s cues and not push him too far too fast.
“What do you want?” Tony keeps his voice soft, needing it all but not wanting to assume. Steve lifts his head from the pillow, looking down the length of his body as Tony continues to learn the lines and planes of his muscles.
“Remember when you said you wanted me to let you tear me apart…?”
Tony swallows hard, his hands stilling on Steve’s thighs as Steve almost imperceptibly spreads his legs just that much wider.
He nods, locking into Steve’s intense gaze, trying to tell him just how much this will mean to him. It means everything.
He leans forward, looking down at Steve as Steve sinks back against the pillows.
“Do it,” Steve says and Tony dips his head, telling Steve with his kiss that he certainly will.
Tony spends the rest of the night taking Steve to pieces, not caring that he’s falling apart right alongside him.
And when he falls asleep, sated and sweaty and sticky and completely undone, he actually feels whole.
*******
Steve smells like rain and tastes like mint, fresh and clean from the shower, still damp enough to feel cool against his skin when Steve bends to press kisses along his neck. Tony sets down his coffee in order to twine his fingers in Steve’s hair, urging him on.
He could really get used to this. In fact, the thought of returning to mornings without exactly this makes him thoroughly and completely depressed.
“I don’t think I’m ever gonna let you leave this apartment, Cap. Just as a heads up. Thought you might want to know.”
“Gonna hold me prisoner?” Steve smiles against his cheek, his hands sliding underneath Tony’s thin t-shirt, those wide palms pressing flat along his lower abs, fingertips tracing the bottom edge of the arc reactor. For someone whose longest previous relationship lasted the length of one passionate kiss, Steve’s surprisingly good with casual intimacy. “Keep me tied up?”
He’s actually real damn good with all kinds of intimacy.
“Guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do,” Tony retorts, angling his head back over his shoulder to kiss Steve again. He quickly turns it hard and dirty, fucking his tongue in and out of Steve’s mouth and not so subtly pressing his ass back against Steve’s groin, only the thin cotton of his own underwear and the terrycloth of Steve’s towel separating him from what he wants.
Steve smiles against his lips, chuckling softly.
“Just took a shower,” he murmurs, even as his arms tighten their hold.
“You really shouldn’t have bothered. I mean, this isn’t some Life Model Decoy situation, you have been present for the past two days, right? What did you think we’d be doing this morning?” Tony reaches behind and tugs at Steve’s towel, pulling it loose.
“Tony,” Steve admonishes, nevertheless sliding a hand down the front of Tony’s boxer briefs, steadily rubbing over his thickening cock. Tony hums in pleasure, still in thrall to how easy this has been. He should never have fought it this long.
“We can’t stay in here forever, you know,” Steve comments, poking holes in Tony’s happiness, right where the weakest spots are. Tony knows he’s right but he’s not that eager to test it out. “I’m not going to change my mind once we leave the apartment, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I’m not worried,” Tony lies, which hardly matters because Steve sees right through him, his touch stuttering to a stop before he pulls his hand away.
“Tony…”
“I’m not changing my mind either,” Tony presses on, not wanting to get hung up on his insecurities this morning, not when Steve’s gorgeous cock is rubbing suggestively against his lower back. He puts his hands over Steve’s hands and pushes Steve’s fingers around the top of his underwear, shoving at the fabric and stripping himself down to nothing.
He’s still loose and wet from their last round of it’s-so-late-it’s-morning sex, when Steve had worked him open and slid into him carefully as they spooned. It had been slow and deep and lazy and perfect. He wants Steve to take advantage of his body’s willingness.
“Want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone.” That’s not a lie, and honestly too much the truth, but he’s having a hard time reining that back in now that he’s started. Maybe it’s because every time he lets a comment like that loose, Steve rewards his vulnerability. He’s always been easily swayed by positive reinforcement.
Positive reinforcement like Steve whispering his name and pushing in from behind, his slow upward thrust lifting Tony onto the tips of his toes. He braces himself against the counter, hands flat against the smooth granite. The cool surface warms quickly underneath his palms.
“God, you’re too good at this, it’s unfair,” Tony groans as he bends slightly forward, rocking slightly with Steve’s rhythm.
“Don’t think I’d be like this if it wasn’t with you,” Steve murmurs, rotating his hips as he thrusts. Tony tightens around him, giving as good as he gets and making Steve moan. “Never expected it to be this way.”
“Never expected to be with another man, seventy years in the future?” Tony laughs breathlessly, his hands slipping on the countertop. “Can’t imagine why you didn’t see that one coming.”
Steve laughs a little too, then wraps an arm around his waist and pulls Tony back, using his other hand to tilt Tony’s face back for a kiss.
“I love you.” Steve kisses him again before he has a chance to reply, maybe not wanting to make Tony feel he has to say it back. And Tony would have said it back, if not for the fact that hearing the words fall from Steve’s lips sends him spiraling over the edge long before he thought he would. His orgasm wrenches out of him, his cock twitching untouched as his come spurts all over the countertop in a fantastic mess. His climax seems endless, pumping until there’s nothing left. It seems a rather undignified response to a declaration of love but he couldn’t help it.
Steve works him through the aftershocks, going until Tony’s entire body is trembling and every thrust makes him gasp. Steve starts to pull out, still hard, but Tony reaches back and grabs his ass, shoves him back in.
“Could’ve at least let me say I love you too,” Tony says as Steve hits him in just the right place and he pitches forward with a moan, hands slipping on the counter. Steve slips forward with him, pressed against Tony’s sweat-slick back as Tony involuntarily clenches around his length. Steve comes with a bitten-off groan and the feel of Steve pulsing inside of him is nearly too much for Tony to take.
He doesn’t have time to revel in the sensation of Steve filling him up because just then the door to the apartment swings open and Bucky walks in.
“Okay, we’ve given you guys time and we’ve respected your space but Assemble calls are a different story, we – Oh Holy Mother of God!” Bucky stops in his tracks, covering his eyes and turning away. “I did not see that, I saw nothing!” He doesn’t leave though, planting his feet and remaining with his back to them and his hand over his face. “The kitchen, Steve? I eat here!”
“Hey, I gave you your own floor, Barnes, you can eat there,” Tony retorts, grimacing as Steve pulls out and bends to pick up his towel. He resituates Tony’s underwear on his hips, covering him up. He’s blushing bright, bright red as he grabs the dishtowel from by the sink and throws it over the come-streaked countertop. “And have you ever heard of knocking?”
“I was knocking. Apparently you two were otherwise occupied. Where the hell are your phones? And why is JARVIS turned off in here?”
“I think I liked you much better when you weren’t officially part of the team,” Tony comments. “Give you an inch, you take a mile.”
“What’s going on?” Steve asks.
“Some kind of robot attack on Battery Park. Some bozo named Dr. Doom is claiming responsibility and threatening to unleash the rest of his forces on the city.”
Tony exchanges a look with Steve, both of them reluctantly agreeing that their little sexual stay-cation has come to an abrupt but unavoidable end.
“Hill’s already routed someone to give us a lift.”
“We’ll meet you on the platform in five.” Steve states.
“Guess this means I have to go get dressed.” Tony sighs, annoyed.
“Five!” Bucky shouts a reminder as he hurries out. Tony rolls his eyes, not so much at Bucky but the whole situation.
“I was really enjoying this,” Tony gestures between himself and Steve, upset that some strange villain and his army of robots have disrupted their idyllic morning. “Do you suppose it’s too late for us to turn in our superhero cards and run away to some tropical paradise? Pretty sure I own an island or two, somewhere.”
“Duty calls, unfortunately.”
“Unfortunately? I really have undone you, Cap. I thought you lived for this stuff.”
“Still do. And now I got more to fight for than ever.”
He’s so earnest that Tony’s natural instinct is to poke fun, and he steps in close, patting the center of Steve’s chest, right where the star of his uniform usually lays.
“You’re ridiculous, Rogers.”
“And you still think everything’s a joke.”
“Only if it’s funny,” Tony replies before smiling his way into a kiss that he happily extends as long as possible.
“We gotta go,” Steve states when he pulls away and Tony fights it, dragging him back. “You should go put on the suit.”
“They can handle it. How bad can some silly robots really be?”
“Tony?” Steve gathers him up in his arms and holds him still. “Put on the suit.”
“But I-“
“I promise, we’ll still be here when we get back. The city needs our help. Put on the suit.”
“Ugh, fine.” Tony reluctantly heads for the door.
He meets the rest of the Avengers on the roof in less than five, because he’s efficient and brilliant like that, and Steve steps out into the bright morning sunlight not a moment after.
Tony pauses at the ramp up to the Quinjet, looking inside at Clint, Bucky, Natasha, Bruce, Thor, each one of them curious and waiting. He turns to Steve, clapping him on the shoulder.
“What do ya say, Cap – shall we go kick some ass and then get some lunch?”
“Like that plan.”
“It’s a date.”
END