Steve's pretty sure his heart actually stops for a moment. Having Tony live in the compound - live with him - is a thought he hasn't been able to resist returning to, one he's avoided lingering over too long lest it consume him (as if the rest of his thoughts about Tony haven't already, a flood of emotions that he finds increasingly difficult to keep dammed up). He's even wondered once or twice if he could live in the mansion and somehow commute back to the compound, perfectly happy to spend four hours a day driving if it means he could come home to Tony at the end of it.
He takes a couple seconds to remember how to breathe, to pretend that there isn't a tiny part of him that wants to shatter into an emotional basket case. Steve presses his face into Tony's hair, inhales his scent before he presses a kiss to the crown of his head. There's still a lump in his throat when he finally speaks. "That- yeah, that sounds good." Better than good, but he doesn't want to sound too needy, doesn't want to scare Tony off with his intensity. "I'd like to have you there." His one-armed embrace tightens, the biggest clue to the depth of his emotions right now. It (hopefully) stops just short of rib-cracking.
"Although I think we'll need our own bathroom," Steve adds, trying to lighten things with a touch of humor. (He's entirely serious about the bathroom.) "And you'll need more room for clothes."
Tony might've let out a great, relieved sigh if not for the super-soldier arm squeezing his ribs. He was uncertain where he'd go once he moves to the compound, like he'll have all his boxes and crates and be standing dumbfounded at the front door, no idea where he belongs inside. Luckily, Steve just gave him an open invitation. They can live together. Tony can wake up next to someone—if, he chortles to himself, Steve ever sleeps past dawn. Steve can keep the nightmares at bay, and Tony can maybe find happiness again. (He'll crash and burn all the harder for it, his still-dropping brain supplies, when it eventually unravels. Everything he touches does.)
"I might have an idea about that," Tony says and splays open his hand on Steve's back. "It'd require moving away from the team dorms, but—okay," he gasps. "Steve. Steve, honey, you're a little snug there."
It might be a little presumptive of him to just decide that Tony wants to live with him - there's probably a difference between moving to the compound so they can see each other more than once or twice a month and moving to the compound to live together - but Steve's never done things by halves. (It's not like they won't still have their individual personal spaces, anyway, he reasons. Until now, Steve's spent nearly all of his waking hours outside his bedroom, anyway. But sharing a space with Tony makes him want to be in that space more, rather than being alone somewhere else.)
"Sorry." He laughs quietly and loosens his grip enough to let Tony breathe properly. There's a hint of awe to his laugh, like he's still amazed that Tony actually wants to move in with him, like any of his tiny domestic fantasies might come true. "That's fine. I'm sure the others would appreciate the peace and quiet." He grins over the top of Tony's head, the expression almost giddy. God, he's such a sap.
Tony laughs in kind, puffed out hot against Steve's chest. He's already making mental notes to call various contractors. How did he get so lucky? Steve actually sounds excited to live with all of Tony's daily quirks. "Peace of mind from not seeing a sock constantly on our door handle, maybe," he returns.
"A sock?" Because of course that's what catches Steve's attention. It's unfamiliar, but he can work out what it means from context, thank you very much. "I think the noise might be more of a hint." They aren't exactly quiet about things, after all. "Are you going to add on somewhere? Knock a wall or two out?"
"Maybe. Lemme consult with some architects," Tony says. With a groan he stretches against Steve, limbs achy. "Any other requests? Private kitchen? Lounge area? Secret sex dungeon?"
"First two, yes." Maybe this is turning into an apartment and not just a larger bedroom, but Steve can't say he minds. Especially since he bought Tony an apron with the express purpose of having him cook while wearing nothing else, which isn't such a good idea in a communal kitchen. "Decent-sized bathtub, and not just a shower." God, it's a far cry from when he used to bathe in a tin washtub with lukewarm water, when he lived in a single-room apartment. The Steve Rogers from those days would never recognize who he's become, and he isn't sure if that's a good thing or not.
Steve snorts, but he pulls away from Tony obligingly, rolling over till he can sit up on the edge of the bed. From there, he tugs Tony up into a sitting position, then stands with a slight wince. The bag he brought this time is larger, mostly because he had to fit Tony's presents in. "I hope you're the one with the cheesecake," he comments while he's bent over. "'Cause if I was supposed to get it, then I missed the memo."
But he does have two boxes for Tony. The smaller one, on top, has an Iron Man-style apron - a gag gift more than anything else. The larger one is an elaborate leather harness in the same blue leather as Tony's collar, and, in fact, the straps at the top are clearly meant to fasten onto said collar. As awkward as he'd felt commissioning it - he hadn't even thought of the idea until it had been suggested to him - he's glad he has it now, which just goes to show that Tony's a terrible influence on him.
"Happy Valentine's Day." He plops the wrapped presents on Tony's lap, then sits down next to him, leaning in to steal a quick kiss.
Tony misses the wince since he's shimmying his hips to fix the ruffled pencil skirt. He'd much rather switch into pants, but the outfit makes Steve happy and the whole "want to please Steve" mindset lingers for a while. As he stretches his arms he appreciates the view of Steve bending over—something niggles at Tony about that, but he's too blissed out to think deeper—and mentions that the cheesecake is in the kitchen fridge. He ordered it from one of his favorite bakeries as a treat for Steve and him. ("You're not allergic to strawberries, are you?" Tony blurts out, followed by, "Never mind, stupid question.")
"Two? You spoil me," Tony murmurs into the kiss once Steve drops the boxes onto his lap. Unveiling the apron, with its front printed as the Iron Man armor, brings a sadly wistful look, there and gone. Smirking, he holds the apron up and open and conspiratorially whispers, "If you think this is payback for all the flag gifts, joke's on you. I love it." He neatly folds it back into the box.
"Part payback," Steve admits, because they both know he's like that. "But also because I genuinely want you to cook me breakfast while wearing it. Especially with nothing else underneath." He grins wickedly at Tony. At least with a private kitchen, they don't have to worry about the other Avengers walking in on them (and Steve has no doubt they would). "It's perfect for breakfast and a show." If by show you mean Tony's bare ass, and he absolutely does.
"Open the other one," he urges Tony, resting his chin on his shoulder. If Tony wants to talk about spoiling him, then he needs to see the custom-made harness, hand-crafted to Tony's measurements from rich, smooth leather. (Of course Steve spoils him; he'd do it more if he could, but it's damn hard to manage for someone who can simply buy whatever he needs without even thinking about the cost. This is the least Steve can do.)
"Okay, okay," Tony concedes, caught in a goofy half-grin, and sets the apron in its box aside. Private kitchen for sure, then. The team might get jealous, Rhodey might give him shit for it, but benefits of sleeping with the boss, Tony will say and shrug. Plus, it doesn't feel right to intrude on the team's shared space. That's not where he belongs anymore, no matter how much he feels like the one kid watching the rest play basketball from the other side of the fence.
When the lid is lifted from the second box, Tony stares and then gasps out, "You got me a harness," because it looks beautifully custom-made to match the collar he's wearing and right now the idea of Steve piece-by-piece marking Tony as his, wrapping him up, shoots a tingle down to Tony's toes. The moment Steve moves or speaks, Tony will startle.
"They, uh, suggested it when I commissioned the collar." When Tony startles, Steve runs a hand down his back to soothe him. It seems like he'd placed the order a lifetime ago, not a mere two months. So many things have changed since then, and his foresight has, for once, proven to be accurate. Steve's glad for that, for the tone of awe he hears in Tony's voice. The thought of shopping for bondage gear still makes him feel intensely awkward - awkward enough that he's rented a PO box under a different name for deliveries, including this one - but also eager.
"I didn't know then if you'd like it, but I figured, well, why not?" He stumbles over the words, not totally sure why he's even trying to explain himself - he doesn't think Tony even needs an explanation right now, but he's always nervous when he gives people gifts, and this one is especially personal. "It's okay, right?"
My choice, Tony recalls, and ever-so subtly, he leans back into Steve's soothing hand. With a warm smile he answers, "Let's find out," and stands up. He hands Steve the box. "Put it on me."
Steve blushes when Tony hands him the box and stands to take his shirt off. Academically, of course, he'd known exactly what this entailed, but it's one thing to think about it and another to have it actually happen. Despite the lingering soreness, he can feel interest stirring in his groin.
"You can take the rest of it off if you want," he offers as he rises to his feet, gesturing to the skirt and stockings. In Steve's mind, the scene is over, so there's no need to keep them on any longer. He takes the harness out of the box and runs his fingers over the leather while he waits for Tony to decide.
"You sure?" Tony hooks his thumbs into the skirt's waistband, eyebrows raised. "There's no telling if you'll ever get me to hop into one of these again. This could be a one-time deal," he warns.
Steve spreads his hands, leather straps dangling from one of them. Even if it is, he still has this night to savor in his memory, and that seems like enough to him. "If it happens, it happens," he replies philosophically. He wants to stress to Tony that it's all his decision, that he has the autonomy he craves.
With a closed smile, Tony shoves the skirt down and kicks it off. As he's bent over to roll down the stockings, he says, "Might keep waxing. Bit of novelty to it."
"I do like a good pair of legs," Steve agrees, an amused look in his eyes. "In or out of stockings." Like that's much of a secret. It's not the feminine clothing in particular that does it for him as much as the aesthetic it provides, he thinks. It just doesn't hurt that Tony has the right ass to fill out a skirt.
"I've noticed," Tony says with a grin and a glance up. He peels the second stocking off. "Those poor, defenseless poster girls. I felt violated just by how you eyed them." The stockings and garters balled up, he chucks them across the room and spreads his arms out. "Your mannequin is ready."
"Then maybe you oughta do some modeling for me." It's half-tease, half outright suggestion. Look, Steve can't help it if pin-ups were typically the closest he got to outright pornography, and if those artists and photographers emphasized bare legs and curvy thighs.
Tony's nudity is a little distracting, but Steve manages to arrange the leather straps on him with only a few extra caresses here and there, his fingers lingering whenever he fastens a buckle. The harness fits snugly against him, and Steve kisses the nape of Tony's neck, inhaling the scent of sex and new leather. "Mm, you look gorgeous." Gorgeous enough that his cock is starting to stir again, pressing against the back of Tony's thigh.
"What do you call this?" Tony returns as Steve begins strapping the harness onto him; he's basically modeling right now. Throughout the fitting, he upholds his end of any banter, but by the time Steve finishes, Tony is purring out his words, pleased. The harness latches on to the collar, an interlocking pattern of straps and O-rings around his chest and shoulders like a kinky shawl and another two around his hips. One long strap down the front connects them. "And you," Tony starts, turns in Steve's arms, and rests his hands on Steve's biceps to offer up a kiss with a smug smirk, "are insatiable."
"Are you surprised?" Steve knows he isn't, not with that look on his face. The words are murmured against his lips, nearly lost in the kiss. His hands settle on Tony's hips, fingers curling around one of the straps.
"If you really want your cheesecake right now, though, I'll be okay," he offers. Odds are pretty decent they'll get distracted at some point in the movie no matter what - and by they, Steve fully accepts that it's just him and his super-soldier libido that can't spend a couple hours cuddled up to Tony without getting horny.
"Good to know. I was gonna leave you high and dry either way," Tony admits and pats Steve, a bit condescendingly, on the arm twice. They've talked about the differences in their libidos. While Tony is happy to provide Steve with a quick handjob or blowjob, sometimes Steve's sex drive is too easy a mark.
Steve just makes a face at him. "Is that how you show your gratitude?" he teases back. "Guess the floor would be hell on your knees, though." Oh, yeah, he's going there - although the last thing he needs to think about right now is Tony kneeling in front of him while wearing that harness. He reminds his libido that they'll have plenty of time for things like that later on, and there's no need to rush things.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
He takes a couple seconds to remember how to breathe, to pretend that there isn't a tiny part of him that wants to shatter into an emotional basket case. Steve presses his face into Tony's hair, inhales his scent before he presses a kiss to the crown of his head. There's still a lump in his throat when he finally speaks. "That- yeah, that sounds good." Better than good, but he doesn't want to sound too needy, doesn't want to scare Tony off with his intensity. "I'd like to have you there." His one-armed embrace tightens, the biggest clue to the depth of his emotions right now. It (hopefully) stops just short of rib-cracking.
"Although I think we'll need our own bathroom," Steve adds, trying to lighten things with a touch of humor. (He's entirely serious about the bathroom.) "And you'll need more room for clothes."
no subject
"I might have an idea about that," Tony says and splays open his hand on Steve's back. "It'd require moving away from the team dorms, but—okay," he gasps. "Steve. Steve, honey, you're a little snug there."
no subject
"Sorry." He laughs quietly and loosens his grip enough to let Tony breathe properly. There's a hint of awe to his laugh, like he's still amazed that Tony actually wants to move in with him, like any of his tiny domestic fantasies might come true. "That's fine. I'm sure the others would appreciate the peace and quiet." He grins over the top of Tony's head, the expression almost giddy. God, he's such a sap.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
But he does have two boxes for Tony. The smaller one, on top, has an Iron Man-style apron - a gag gift more than anything else. The larger one is an elaborate leather harness in the same blue leather as Tony's collar, and, in fact, the straps at the top are clearly meant to fasten onto said collar. As awkward as he'd felt commissioning it - he hadn't even thought of the idea until it had been suggested to him - he's glad he has it now, which just goes to show that Tony's a terrible influence on him.
"Happy Valentine's Day." He plops the wrapped presents on Tony's lap, then sits down next to him, leaning in to steal a quick kiss.
no subject
"Two? You spoil me," Tony murmurs into the kiss once Steve drops the boxes onto his lap. Unveiling the apron, with its front printed as the Iron Man armor, brings a sadly wistful look, there and gone. Smirking, he holds the apron up and open and conspiratorially whispers, "If you think this is payback for all the flag gifts, joke's on you. I love it." He neatly folds it back into the box.
no subject
"Open the other one," he urges Tony, resting his chin on his shoulder. If Tony wants to talk about spoiling him, then he needs to see the custom-made harness, hand-crafted to Tony's measurements from rich, smooth leather. (Of course Steve spoils him; he'd do it more if he could, but it's damn hard to manage for someone who can simply buy whatever he needs without even thinking about the cost. This is the least Steve can do.)
no subject
When the lid is lifted from the second box, Tony stares and then gasps out, "You got me a harness," because it looks beautifully custom-made to match the collar he's wearing and right now the idea of Steve piece-by-piece marking Tony as his, wrapping him up, shoots a tingle down to Tony's toes. The moment Steve moves or speaks, Tony will startle.
no subject
"I didn't know then if you'd like it, but I figured, well, why not?" He stumbles over the words, not totally sure why he's even trying to explain himself - he doesn't think Tony even needs an explanation right now, but he's always nervous when he gives people gifts, and this one is especially personal. "It's okay, right?"
no subject
no subject
"You can take the rest of it off if you want," he offers as he rises to his feet, gesturing to the skirt and stockings. In Steve's mind, the scene is over, so there's no need to keep them on any longer. He takes the harness out of the box and runs his fingers over the leather while he waits for Tony to decide.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Tony's nudity is a little distracting, but Steve manages to arrange the leather straps on him with only a few extra caresses here and there, his fingers lingering whenever he fastens a buckle. The harness fits snugly against him, and Steve kisses the nape of Tony's neck, inhaling the scent of sex and new leather. "Mm, you look gorgeous." Gorgeous enough that his cock is starting to stir again, pressing against the back of Tony's thigh.
no subject
no subject
"If you really want your cheesecake right now, though, I'll be okay," he offers. Odds are pretty decent they'll get distracted at some point in the movie no matter what - and by they, Steve fully accepts that it's just him and his super-soldier libido that can't spend a couple hours cuddled up to Tony without getting horny.
no subject
no subject
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)