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.
With a wicked glint to his eyes, Tony pulls back to an arm's length and retorts, "Oh, does this gift come with straps and strings attached? I didn't think you that type of guy."
Steve just snorts. No need to mention the plans that are germinating in his head just yet. "You wish it had strings attached." Because, yes, he's well aware of just how much Tony likes being restrained in general, let alone with ropes.
The smile pushing at the corners of his mouth and his palms upturned in a shrug, Tony backs up out of Steve's reach. He's not denying that, but he's still leaving Steve out to dry. Not every boner needs attention, even when it's attached to the peak of physical human perfection and the man Tony credits with pulling him out of a dark place. He feels like he's being crushed sometimes, but there's that bit of light shining through the debris now.
"Later," he promises and touches Steve's shoulder on his way to the dresser. His lowered body temperature has given rise to goosebumps. "Pampering first."
"Pampering first," Steve agrees with a smile. Even he knows that he doesn't need to get off every time he gets hard. Tony's been spoiling him remarkably so far, but if they keep it up, he's going to lose any vestige of self-control. And, really, they don't need to spend all their time having some sort of sex.
Tony goes to the dresser, and Steve retrieves some more comfortable clothes from his bag, pulling on a t-shirt and loose sleep pants. He could wander around the house naked, but there's no need to. "God, how much does it even cost to heat a place like this?" he wonders idly. Not that the expense is anywhere near enough for Tony to worry about, but Steve remembers huddling in a one-room apartment during the winter, wearing all the clothes he could, and this place is unfathomably large to 1930s sensibilities.
Tony steps into plain briefs then into pajama bottoms. "Not sure. Couple thousand or more?" he guesses distractedly. His toes are chilly. "Payments are automated." He picks out socks.
Steve knows Tony throws money around like it's nothing, and he certainly has enough to be able to do that, but he still has trouble wrapping his head around how much things cost in the twenty-first century. "You would've had to buy a mountain of coal back in the old days," he muses, just to keep talking. "And wood for the fireplaces."
Sitting on the bed, Tony pulls on the socks. He's beginning to suspect the abnormal amount of chills and aches in his limbs is coming from the endorphin crash, which also explains the desire to be pampered. Normally he sleeps through the drop. Even when he hasn't, the downward swing has never been this severe. It's in correlation to how hard he fell under, maybe. Is that a thing? He should read up on the physical effects of subspace and subdrop again. He's supposed to be Steve's guide on this stuff, for Pete's sake. He's supposed to know what he's doing in this one thing, at the least. He's supposed to be listening—
"Huh?" Tony says, distant. "Sorry. Fireplace? I have one. Uses gas, I think?" He stands and suddenly, desperately wants Steve to hold him. He squeezes his eyes shut.
Steve realizes that Tony isn't paying attention to a word he's saying, and he looks at him - really looks, instead of distractedly watching him while he gets dressed. Something about the way he's standing is subtly off, and the tone of his voice is all wrong. He frowns slightly and closes the distance between them, pulling Tony into his arms.
"You okay?" He's pretty sure the answer to that should be no, and equally certain that Tony will say yes.
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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.
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"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.
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"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.)
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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.
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"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?"
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"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.
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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.
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"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.
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"Later," he promises and touches Steve's shoulder on his way to the dresser. His lowered body temperature has given rise to goosebumps. "Pampering first."
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Tony goes to the dresser, and Steve retrieves some more comfortable clothes from his bag, pulling on a t-shirt and loose sleep pants. He could wander around the house naked, but there's no need to. "God, how much does it even cost to heat a place like this?" he wonders idly. Not that the expense is anywhere near enough for Tony to worry about, but Steve remembers huddling in a one-room apartment during the winter, wearing all the clothes he could, and this place is unfathomably large to 1930s sensibilities.
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"Huh?" Tony says, distant. "Sorry. Fireplace? I have one. Uses gas, I think?" He stands and suddenly, desperately wants Steve to hold him. He squeezes his eyes shut.
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"You okay?" He's pretty sure the answer to that should be no, and equally certain that Tony will say yes.
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