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[ It was supposed to be a simple mission - that was why Steve had gone by himself. Some guy, doing who knows what with plants in an abandoned warehouse, and what kind of guy got his ass kicked by plants?

Steve Rogers, that's who.

He'd put an end to plant guy (who had apparently genetically engineered himself into a half-plant, half-human) and his weird ambulatory plant friends. In the process, he'd disturbed a bunch of hanging flowers that had covered him in pollen, and he hadn't thought anything of it, being immune to basically everything. Also, the plants had been trying to take actual bites out of him at the time.

A couple hours later, most of the bruises and scrapes are healed, Steve's showered all the sap and pollen and who knows what green stuff off and is hoping that there isn't any footage of giant vines kicking his ass being uploaded to Youtube. And then he starts feeling...weird. A little feverish, maybe, and he hasn't had a fever in decades. He shrugs it off and goes to work out.

Except halfway through working out, he feels arousal curl around his bones, the kind he can't ignore. He finds the nearest bathroom and leans his forehead against the cool tile, hands tugging his pants down and wrapping around his cock and pulling until he has the most intense orgasm of his life. There's a mess everywhere - Steve cleans that up - and he's still goddamn hard, as if he hadn't come at all.

Christ. He takes a long, cold shower, jerks off again in the process, and that doesn't resolve a damn thing. There's definitely something wrong with him, and that means he probably needs science to fix it. Which means facing Tony, and while they've made an uneasy sort of peace since Siberia, that doesn't mean he really wants to look at him and tell him that he has an erection that won't go down.

He gives it another fifteen minutes, and his dick is hard enough to hammer nails. He finds a hoodie to wrap around his sweatpants, because there's absolutely no way of hiding it, and makes his way down to Tony's lab. ]

Hey, Tony? You busy?

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[ Look, Tony is ninety percent sure that he is never going to get to do this again, so don't mind him enjoying what he can thanks. And he really does enjoy it when Steve is tugging on his hair and spilling down his throat and fuck.

Tony shakes a little, but doesn't fail to notice that Steve is still hard.

Shit.

A brow goes up as he collapses on a stool and Tony pulls back slowly, breathing harshly as he leans against Steve's leg. When he speaks, his voice is rough.]

Hmm, this might be one hell of an interesting afternoon, Rogers.

[ Steve doesn't even know where everything is coming from, but once he can sort of function again, he rummages behind the bar till he can grab a bottle of water. He's starting to feel a need to keep hydrated, and the bottle disappears down his throat in a few gulps - he doesn't even pay attention to the water that spills out and runs down his chin and neck because he's already reaching for another one. ]

Yeah, you're telling me.

[ There is rough laughter from Tony, still on his knees at Steve's feet, as he watches the blond drink. Yeah, that-- hydration was probably a good idea from him. And Tony isn't going to complain either, eyes caught a little on the droplet that makes its way across Steve's skin.

Tony actually gets himself up to chase that with his tongue, before pressing his lips to the hollow of Steve's collarbone. He waits a beat before snagging the second bottle out of Steve's hand with a smirk. ]

Mmm, does it help though? The orgasm?

For a few minutes, anyway.

[ His eyes slide shut as Tony licks his skin, kisses the hollow of his collarbone, a pleased noise caught in his throat. ]

And then it just sort of...builds back up. Like I can't think about anything else except how hard I am and how much I need to get off, so my brain gets caught up in it too. I think about things, and then I want it more, and-

[ Steve sighs, relinquishes the other bottle to Tony and fishes another one for himself. ]

If I make it through this, I'm becoming a priest.

Mmm, so what you are saying is that this is going to be a very interesting couple of hours?

[But he doesn't sound upset by it at all as he downs the water.

However, he might choke a little at the declaration of priesthood.]

What would be a waste, I think. Is it really that bad?

[ There is something soft in the words, tentative. ]

At least. [ Steve's more concerned that it won't wear off that soon, that even his super-soldier stamina will be exhausted and he'll still feel the drive to fuck until he collapses.

It could, he thinks, be an effective weapon. ]

Mm? [ He tilts his head a little, studies Tony. He's never really thought that the other man might have feelings for him beyond friendship - it's been hard enough to even imagine that much since Siberia. But Tony had mentioned an infatuation earlier and it had caught Steve by surprise, and now he doesn't know what to think. ]

Not you. [ His tone is reassuring, and he reaches out to cup Tony's cheek, thumb stroking over his cheekbone. ] But the whole thing is just...frustrating.

[ That would be an understandable fear if he wasn't in a place where they had drugs that could knock the Hulk out. If it proves to be too much, if Steve really cannot bear it and it doesn't fade, Tony will find him what he needs.

For now, however, this was hopefully enough.]

At least? I don't know if that is lack of faith in my creative abilities or not...

[ He is trying for light-hearted, for something not emotive or wounded or feeling, but he doesn't know if he is at all succeeding. Something about this, about intimacy with some he already cares for, breaking down his defences. So when Steve reaches up, gentle and caring, Tony is caught by surprise. There is a gentleness in that gesture that he doesn't know how to deal with, ends up, eyes wide and mouth parted, as he stares at Steve. ]

Um.. yeah, I can see that....

[ That at least gets Steve to laugh quietly. Tony might not always have the best ideas, but he always has ideas. So of course Steve has faith in his creative abilities, even when those abilities are being put to work in bed instead of creating some sort of weird new technology that he doesn't understand. ]
More like worrying about how long this stuff is gonna be in my system. I know about your creative abilities.

[ Except he really has no idea when it comes to sex. ]

Are you actually speechless? [ Steve teases him gently when he trails off. That gobsmacked look is unfairly attractive - there's an underlying vulnerability to it that makes him want to gather Tony up and protect him. ] Maybe I oughta take a picture, capture the moment. [ But instead he kisses him gently, tries to rein in his need for just a moment to convey something softer and more emotional. ]

[ The laughter is nice, makes Tony relax a little (makes him wonder when he became tense in the first place). But the fear that Steve has is understandable, has Tony leaning into him a little, determination clear in his eyes.] If the stuff doesn't fade, there are things we can do. I promise you this. [ Then he switches his focus a little, smirking.] Do you know my abilities? Mmm?

[ There is something coy in the words, in the corner of his smile, a challenge of sorts. Like he wants to see if Steve will take him up on the potential.

However, he doesn't have time to think about it, not when those words sit warm in his bones. Make him feel open and raw and, even at the teasing, Tony can't quite find the sense to close himself off. Seeing Steve Rogers with that softness, that gentleness, directed at him makes something painfully hopeful flare to life in his chest.

He only hopes it doesn't kill him.] No the kind of picture I thought you would want to take...

[ Again, there is an attempt at something less vulnerable, but Tony falls short, and he knows it. Especially when Steve presses in to kiss him like he cares and, shit shit shit. There is a whimper of a noise caught in his throat as he presses in, shakes a little against Steve and hopes the blond doesn't notice.]

No, [ he admits frankly with a shrug, ] but I'd like to find out.

[ Famous last words, Steve. ]

That's the kind of picture I'd rather draw.

[ He's thought about it before, watching Tony work out, or seeing him bent over his workbench. There's an intensity there that his fingers itch to try and catch on paper, to capture someone who's always moving without making the stillness seem unnatural.

(There might be a few rough sketches of Tony in the margins of his sketchbook, half-finished attempts to draw him from memory when he was in Wakanda. But Bucky's there, too, and Peggy.)

Even as distracted as Steve is, he notices that Tony's shaking when he kisses him, that there's the barest whimper caught in his throat. He runs a soothing hand down his back, rests his forehead against his and looks into his eyes. ] Shhhh, it'll be all right.

Oh, is that so, Rogers?

[ Tony's gaze is challenging, pointed. He has plenty of experience, can make this very interesting if the offer honestly still stands after this is all over.

Tony hopes it does.

Of course, the look falters when Steve says that and, oh-- that-- is a lot more than he expected, to be honest. Something far more intimate in the idea of Steve drawing him, rather than just taking a picture. There was caring there, something a little deeper that Tony was still trying to get a hold on.]

Mmm, maybe next time. I don't think this is the best time for drawing.

[ False confidence and smirks, that is what Tony is going for, even as Steve kisses him something soft and sweet. Fuck, Tony is so screwed. So screwed, why did--

There is a noise, a huff of a laugh as he tries to pull himself together, eyes closing for a moment before he stares as best he can at Steve, mouth curled in a poor attempt at a grin.] Isn't that supposed to be what I tell you?

Wouldn't say so if it wasn't, Stark.

[ But he really has no idea what he's getting himself into. It's not that Steve isn't aware of things, it's just that his knowledge is pretty damn vanilla and, well, limited. So he can't even begin to imagine what Tony might be able to come up with if he put his mind to it. ]

Once you get me in bed, yeah. [ Steve's more successful at smirking than Tony is, though he's also easily distracted by the thought of Tony and beds and what people do in beds. ] God, Tony, I want you to fuck me. [ He closes his eyes and leans his forehead against Tony's again, trying to calm himself a little even as his cock aches at the thought of Tony inside him. He doesn't really know what it would feel like, but he's suddenly obsessed with the idea of finding out. ]

Never know, just making sure you don't regret that there, Rogers.

[ Tony cares more about connection and affection and attention in bed, not one to focus on the fancy things or outlandish things unless that really is what his partner wants. For Steve? Vanilla is totally fine with him, as long as Steve is happy.

And the genius wants to tell him as much, maybe something like reassurance, but then Steve says that and, fuck, Tony is so very lucky he has a lot of self-control. He makes a noise at the words, a rumble in his ribcage, and lets his hands slide down to Steve's ass, pulling them together at the hip. Fuck fuck fuck, he didn't think-- didn't think Steve would want that right now, but gods, he is more than willing to give.]

Fuck, you can't just-- can't just say shit like that, Steve. Fuck, I want to take you apart darling, let me-- cmon, to the bed, yeah?

Regret you? Never.

[ He's regretted a lot of things about the way he's acted around Tony - god, a good chunk of his interactions with the man - but never Tony himself. Steve has more faith in him than Tony himself does. ]

Mmm. [ Steve nuzzles Tony's neck, presses closer to him again. Their erections slide together, and he moans into the other man's skin. He wants everything - wants to fuck and be fucked and come until he can't string two words together anymore. ] All right. [ He pulls away with reluctance, letting Tony lead him into the bedroom. ]

[ Tony tries not to let it show, how much those three words mean to him. How much hope they light up in his chest so easily, because Steve is saying it like he means it, like Tony is something that he could care about. Does care about and-- well, Tony doesn't want to let the hope swell too far because he has no idea what the effect of this stuff is on the rest of him.

So Tony doesn't respond beyond the smile he tries to fight back, perhaps a laugh that turns into a low moan when Steve presses closer, moans into his skin and shakes with want.

Yeah, he is fucking lucky indeed.

Tony pulls back, just far enough to pull Steve towards the bed, stops at the doorframe to push Steve against it, sliding his thigh between Steve's legs and covering him as much as he can. Then Tony kisses him, it's hot and demanding, the echoes of his desire found in the way he tries to devour Steve in the kiss.

Then, he is gone, smirking as he moves towards the bed and gestures to Steve to get on in, as he heads into the bathroom. Despite what most people thing, he didn't always keep everything in the bedside table, especially when he wasn't sleeping with someone regularly.]

I expect you to be naked and on all fours when I get back, Steve.

[ If he's ever thought about it at all - and he really hasn't - he's just assumed that Tony has a separate room for all the deviant things he gets up to. Of course, for Steve, "deviant things" are like...pillow fights with lots of girls in nighties or something. He doesn't really know what sort of weird things Tony gets up to in bed, but apparently he's going to find out.

And, to be honest, he's a little excited by it - although right now, he's excited by everything. He pulls his shirt off over his head as he watches Tony disappear into the bathroom, kneels obediently on the bed. He can't stop thinking about having Tony inside him, his body pressed against him closer than he'd ever thought possible. Steve groans, letting his head drop as he waits for Tony to return. ]

[ Tony is not let down when he gets back to the bedroom; Steve is naked and in the middle of the bed, his bed, looking like a fucking work of art. Tony's breath catches in his throat and he almost stumbles in his movement back to the bed. He doesn't climb on the way he wants to, rather circles behind Steve, dropping the lube and condoms (multiples of both because, well, better safe than sorry) at the corner before taking in the sight before him.

Fuck, he wishes he could draw right about now.]

Fuck, you are gorgeous, Steve.

[ There is a hushed reverence in his tone, the way he reaches out from the side of the bed to let his hand slide along the curve of Steve's ass, into the dip of his lower back, feeling the muscles shift beneath his fingers, before letting his hand continue up along his spine before sliding into the hair at the base of Steve's neck. He tugs lightly, getting the blond to look up, to look at him, before he kisses him again.

This one is softer, almost sweet.]

I do anything you don't like, you tell me to stop, okay?

[ Steve leans into Tony's hand, and it's not all the chemicals in his system driving him. Even without it, he craves touch. He feels distant from everyone else, and he just wants someone - wants Tony - to touch him. It's an almost childish need, one that feels a little out of place in the middle of his intense desire. ]

Mm. [ Steve reaches up with one hand, holding Tony in place after he kisses him. His muscles are quivering with need, but he wants to linger in this moment of intimacy. He catches Tony's bottom lip between his teeth before he kisses him again. ] Got it.

[ There is a ghost of a smile on Tony's features, something soft and full of wonder, as Steve leans into his touch. The genius is more than aware that he is being given something of a gift right now, the touch and the trust, no matter what became of it. At the reaction, Tony presses a little more firmly, lets the touch be something of a grounding presence for the blond, even as he leans in and licks into his mouth.]

Mmm, that's... yeah. Okay. [ Tony huffs, his desire and his need to make sure that Steve is okay stuttering at the way the blond holds him, the way he seems to want this contact so desperately. Makes a note to, when this is over, maybe touch the other a little more. Casual things.

But not now. Now, Tony was moving back down, dragging nails along his skin and leaving red lines over the curve of Steve's ass before he settles himself behind Steve, removing his hand only long enough to grab the lube and pop it open. Then, with one hand curling around Steve's hip, he teases at the other's entrance slow and steady.]

You good there, darling?

Ohh, yeah. [ The skitterscratch of nails against his skin isn't even enough to be pain, just a bright burst of sensation under skin that seems too tight, too warm, and there's something that isn't quite a desperate whimper caught in his throat.

And then- he's not sure if his muscles quiver with anticipation or nerves or both (probably both), but he finds himself pressing back into the touch nonetheless, hungry for more, even if he doesn't quite know what more is. ]

Edited 2017-03-21 22:51 (UTC)

[ The look of wonder doesn't fade from Tony's face, if anything he seems all the more awestruck at the way Steve presses back, urges more from Tony's fingers. Settling his other hand over Steve's hip, fingers rubbing in soothing motions, as he presses his fist finger in slowly. Tony's movements are steady and slow, but constant, and as Steve opens beneath the press of his finger, Tony presses close and leaves a trail of kisses against the small of his back.

And if there are quiet whispers of beautiful against his skin, well, it was the truth.]

So good, Steve, so perfect.

[ Under other circumstances, Steve might protest - might say that he's nothing but a lab rat, that he's hardly perfect. But he doesn't want to break the fragile connection between them - and, truth be told, he's not sure he could protest right now, not when his own fingers twist in the sheets, not when one finger leaves him wanting so much more. And when Tony hits just the right spot, Steve's entire body tenses suddenly, quivering like a plucked wire. ]

Ohfuck.

[ It's little more than words hissed on a sharp intake of breath, but there's a certain profound wonder there, like Steve hadn't known that would happen. ]

[ If Steve ever tries to pitch that to Tony, he is not going to like the response that he gets. Tony, in a way, can understand that inclination, but he also knows that Steve is so much more than an experiment. And he would be sure to tell Steve that. And show him. Repeatedly.

For now, he keeps whispering words against Steve's skin, curling his fingers a little tighter around the blond's hip as he reacts to the brush against his prostate. Tony hums, the noise pleased and wanting, and pulls back a little, uncurls his finger from Steve's hips in order to add more lube (he is going to be careful, make sure this is perfect) before pressing back in, this time with a second finger.]

You like that? Mmm? Just wait, darling, I will make sure this is better for you...

[ Steve huffs a breathless laugh, twisting his head for a moment to look back over his shoulder at Tony. ] Not sure waiting's gonna be an option.

[ Because now that his body's had a taste of what's to come, the desperate need from the pollen is back in full force, settling into his bones and his brain and his cock. It's all he can do to keep from humping the bed right now. ]

Just- just jerk me off, okay? Wanna feel your hand on me. [ He knows Tony will get a chance to fuck him soon enough; he just needs to come again first. Otherwise it'll happen as soon as Tony gets inside him, and while it wouldn't be disappointing, Steve knows there's so much more to be had. ]

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