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[gotup]

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[myheartglows]

Briefly releasing his cock, Tony smears the precum across his lower lip, which he draws in with his teeth, tasting it, his imagination a wonderful boon: Steve kissing him, fucking him, Steve's moan influencing the fantasy. Tony returns to stroking with breathy "yeah"s and then, at Steve's last order, he dips deeper into subspace, just until he comes, till he feels it in his mind as much as in his crotch. "Yes, sir," he slurs.

[gotup]

"Imagine you're tasting me on your lips." Steve's caught his breath a little; he's splayed out on his bed, his stomach a mess of rapidly-cooling come, but he doesn't move to clean it up just yet. "Imagine me fucking your mouth first, then getting hard again while I watch you open yourself up for me. Making you wait till you're desperate for it, till you want me more than anything else. And then I fuck you hard and fast, I dig my fingers into your ass till I leave marks behind and you'll be able to see the bruises when you look in the mirror later. God, you have a nice ass." He blushes again, his cheeks and ears bright red. Steve never would have predicted the obscenities that are spilling from his mouth even a month ago - not that he's some sort of saint, but he's never talked like this before.

(But he really does like Tony's ass a lot.)

[myheartglows]

Tony whines. His hand picks up pace, the other pressing one finger in just barely. In his head Steve is all over, around and inside him. Tony babbles, high-pitched, "Please, please, please, please, please," until his balls cramp in that lovely way and he comes, back arched, snapped up. The noise he makes is shivery, a drawn-out whimper. Afterward, he lies limp, dazed, and contented. Over the phone, his last groan sounds more tired than anything.

[gotup]

"I bet you look beautiful right now." Steve's voice is barely above a whisper, just loud enough for the phone to pick up. "Gorgeous and messy and limp. I wish I could be there to kiss you, Tony." He wishes he could gather Tony up in his arms and murmur sweet nothings in his ear and tell him how wonderful he is, how much he-

One of these days, he's going to go too far with the pillow talk, Steve half-realizes. But why worry about something that hasn't happened yet?

"You gotta clean yourself up, sweetheart." It's easier to use terms of endearment the more he does it, less awkward-feeling. "Once you catch your breath." He's used, too, to telling Tony what to do afterwards, to make sure he's taken care of.

[myheartglows]

When Tony rolls his head toward Steve's voice, he half-expects to see Steve lying beside him. Instead it's just the shadowy shape of his phone face-down on the nightstand, its backlight only a hint underneath. He whines lowly in protest, but he's already fitting his scattered pieces back together. Without Steve as a physical anchor, Tony floats slowly to the surface. As comfortable and cool as his bed feels, he knows he'll regret not cleaning up. "Okay," he says, words soft and slow, "but ya gotta stay on the phone till I go to sleep. Those're my terms 'n they're non-negotiable." He slurs negotiable. Big word for his brain to communicate to his mouth right now.

[gotup]

"Of course," he promises softly. "I'm not gonna leave you all alone, Tony." Steve worries a little about the effects of subdrop without him physically there to help Tony through it, but he can at least make sure he takes care of himself in his absence. He rests his head on the pillow for another few moments, but eventually reaches out to grab the box of tissues on his nightstand.

"Don't forget to put some clothes back on," he adds as he cleans himself up. Steve makes a bit of a face at the mess, but it's not like it's unusual. "Gotta keep warm without me there to heat your bed for you."

[myheartglows]

While Tony gives no verbal response, simply following whatever command Steve gives, Steve will hear the phone being moved, then running water and some clattering. After a couple minutes, the phone is jostled again only to be tossed onto the puffy winter blankets with a poof. Distant rustling grows closer until the bed springs bounce and the phone moves once more, this time closer to Tony's mouth; he's placed it on the pillow as a poor substitute for Steve. At least with his eyes shut Tony can imagine him there again. Curled on his side, clothed, the collar still fastened, he floats in that pleasant space where he can see everything on his mind, but it's all far behind a solid wall of glass. He's untouchable by it. He can sleep.

"Steve? M'done," he reports. He tugs the blankets tight around him like a full-body embrace and burrows in. "Was there, uh... anything else, or can I say hi to Morpheus now?"

[gotup]

"Mm." By now, Steve's curled up under the blankets himself, wishing he had Tony there to wrap around. The physicality is surprisingly reassuring for him after a scene, too. (Okay, and he's just a big goddamn cuddler.) "You can go to sleep, Tony." Steve covers a yawn at the end of his sentence and nestles into the pillow. "'m saving those pictures of you," he adds.

[myheartglows]

Pillow wedged in to cushion the collar, Tony rests his hand on it, fingers brushing the phone to keep it from slipping down. "Good. I 'spect one framed in your office," he jokes, half-asleep.

[gotup]

"I dunno if I'd go that far," Steve retorts, an undercurrent of laughter in his voice. But he's definitely keeping them on his phone for, ah, future reference. "You planning on coming here soon, or should I visit the city?" It's been too long since he got to see Tony, and he can leave Nat in charge of the new Avengers for a few days if he has to.

[myheartglows]

"Come here?" Tony mumbles so quietly; whether he's just parroting Steve's words or asking Steve to visit is up for grabs. After this, no other sound comes from Tony's end save for a soft hum.

[gotup]

Steve waits for several minutes before he whispers Tony's name - not loudly enough to wake him if he's sleeping, but to see if he's awake. When there's no response, he adds a whispered, "Good night," then hangs up the phone and, thankfully, falls asleep quickly himself.

[myheartglows]

On his waking breath the next morning, Tony stretches his arm out. He reaches for someone, some amalgamate of Steve and Pepper in his sleep-addled brain, but only feels more bed sheets. Clarity seeps in and he opens his eyes to muted, grey sunlight, just rising, through the closed curtains. He groans and hugs the pillow closer until something hard and cold slips over and down his arm. Right. His phone. Their little sexy time last night with the promise of something more soon. That happened.

Sitting up, Tony rubs his eyes clear of gunk. Among the wealth of things on his itinerary, he thinks he should let Steve know he's okay. The lug worries and takes aftercare way too seriously. Probably killed the big softie not being able to tuck Tony in snug as a bug in a rug. They need to schedule their next date, anyway. There: a practical reason to text. He opens a message.

Good morning, America. Breaking news right now is that Tony Stark slept great and Steve Rogers has a dirty dirty mouth. Are these two phenomenon related? Stay tuned.

[gotup]

When Tony wakes up, Steve's already in the office, taking care of some paperwork before a training session he has scheduled with Sam and Rhodey. His phone buzzes, alerting him to a text, and he finishes the requisition form he's on before setting it aside to read. The text makes him blush again, thinking of everything he'd said last night. Frankly, he's still not sure how he managed all that.

Why do I ever encourage you?

[myheartglows]

Not sure. Honestly poor decision-making on your part, Tony sends, smiling, freshened up for the day. On his way to the kitchen for breakfast and in a fit of whimsy, he slides down the grand staircase's banister on his butt. He feels solid. Ready to persevere through every challenge and hardship, even the painful knowledge of his past failures.

[gotup]

That describes most of my life, more or less. Steve takes a healthy sip from the coffee mug sitting at his elbow after sending the text, then starts typing another. Did you mean what you said last night, about coming down for a visit? As nice as their little session had been, it's only making him miss Tony all the more.

[myheartglows]

Coffee brewing, Tony considers staging a humorous photo of him, overly sultry, blowing a banana from the fruit bowl, but opts for fixing eggs on toast instead. Yeah, sure, he types, and pauses. He looks around the kitchen from the checkered tiles to the bay window above the table. How would it feel seeing Captain America ghosting around these floors and intermingling with old memories of resentment and a fresher sense of inferiority? Mashing his past and present together like that?

He's getting ahead of himself. Maybe they'll just meet for dinner and a walk through Central Park or at the Tower. Tony adds, Did you mean what YOU said about not diddling myself without you? and sends.

[gotup]

Steve pauses. That had been something he'd said in the heat of the moment, and truthfully, he's not sure that he should ask that much of Tony, if he should intrude so much on his life. Is it fair to ask something of Tony that he can't do himself?

Only if you're okay with it, he sends finally. It's not as dominant and assertive as he'd been last night, but he's not playing that role right now.

[myheartglows]

Tony brushes his thumb across the word bubble. It's one thing to fully hand himself over during times of his choosing, another entirely to give even a small part of himself twenty-four seven. It reeks of commitment -- like putting a ring on it, a wise woman once said, but instead of an engagement, it's a cock ring. Tony frowns at his own analogy and jumps when the coffee machine dings. As always, the back of his brain continues ticking through various points. He sets the phone aside for later. There are other, more pressing matters to concern himself with, such as charity work and continued relief efforts, Congress's tiff with him, and successfully hijacking his own hippocampus.

Fed and sipping his coffee on the way down to the basement, Tony reads over Steve's message again: only if you're okay with it. Ultimately it's his choice, right? He has the power here. It's not weak-willed, or whatever, which just leaves the question of whether or not he wants to let Steve that far inside his heart. Inside his body, relatively easy; inside his head, easier with time. His heart, though, after his last attempt failed so spectacularly? Yes, the thought flashes by. In that briefest moment, before he can think, he taps out two letters and presses send.

The message simply reads, Ok. Tony stares at it. He just signed away his right to jack off, which isn't a problem so much at his age, but his body still experiences unexpected desires and he still likes it. Hurriedly he adds, But you have to be ready at the rise of my cock if I really need you.

[gotup]

Steve's used to the pauses in Tony's texts by now, so he doesn't worry when he takes some time to get back to him. He's in the gym by the time his phone buzzes again, stretching his muscles out as he warms up. Finishing his current set of reps, he finally picks up the phone and glances at it with a half-smile.

I don't think that'll be a problem. Not with the little wave of pleasure that rolls through him just from reading a slightly salacious text. As long as he's not in the middle of something else, Steve can get hard at the drop of a hat, especially if Tony's involved.

What's this weekend look like for you?

[myheartglows]

As he checks with FRIDAY about his schedule, waking all his systems up, Tony feels short of breath, which is ridiculous because he's nowhere near unfit enough for stairs to have winded him, especially descending. When he finally types back, he types manically, a visible word vomit, with hardly any stopping to consider his words. Sat or sun could work. Also in hindsight maybe naming my baby nlui Friday when I need to discuss scheduling and days of the week with her was a slight misstep. You hungry for anything in particular? Besides me. I have yet to see you fully fucked out. Great, now I'm picturing you as a raunchy energizer bunny. I should delete this. Nvm I'm sending this, comes through in one big block.

[gotup]

Steve sits down on a weight bench and stares at the phone in his hands, a slightly bewildered look on his face. This is the sort of thing he'd expect from Tony when he's exhausted and rambling, but he knows he's reasonably well-rested. Which means, Steve realizes, perhaps a little belatedly, that he's nervous about the prospect of him coming to visit, that having Steve in his home is a vulnerability he's not quite comfortable with.

It doesn't have to be this weekend. My social calendar isn't exactly teeming with obligations.

He's just not even going to address the bulk of that, except- And please stop drinking coffee before your heart explodes.

[myheartglows]

Tony glances at the mug halfway raised to his mouth. He frowns and slowly sets it down. You don't have Natasha spying on me, do you? Is that how you'll enforce the no diddling rule? Here I thought we were using the honor system.

[gotup]

...do you really think it's that hard to guess how over-caffeinated you are?

But you're right, we're using the honor system. If Nat's spying on you, then that's her own business. He doubts it, though; she doesn't seem to be especially interested in Tony in that way. Although Steve suspects she's figured out where his own feelings lie, judging by a few comments she's made to him.

[myheartglows]

In an unseen act of rebellion, Tony drinks as much of the cooled coffee as his mouth can stand in one gulp. So if I told you right now that I've engaged in hand to gland combat without your seal of approval, what happens?