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.
Hesitatingly, Tony traces his hands up Steve's sides, around his ribs, and finally, needfully clutches his arms around him. His chin he rests on Steve's shoulder. Together, he remembers Steve saying. In that, Steve has kept his word. "Yeah. Drop's just hitting me big-time. Bit of self-indulgence and I'll be right as rain," Tony mumbles.
"You wanna sit down for a moment before we go get cheesecake?" He'd offer to go get it and bring it here, but he knows Tony doesn't like it when he's out of sight when he's under, and he probably wouldn't like it right now. So Steve gestures to the bed with his chin, the only part of him that isn't currently occupied with embracing Tony. "You can have some chocolate, too." He's reminded of Harry Potter for a moment and smiles to himself.
Tony sighs and says, "I better not. If I sit down again, you might have to caveman-carry me out." After a beat, he pulls back and comically narrows his eyes. "Don't get any ideas."
"Who, me?" Steve strives to look innocent and fails. "I'm just worried about you making it to the kitchen all right. You're looking a little wobbly there." And if Tony loses his balance on the way to the kitchen, Steve's absolutely going to carry him the rest of the way. It's about as big a deal for him as spending money is for Tony, which is to say, not at all.
If Tony were more himself (or rather, had more of his normal guards up), he might insist that he can manage the trek just fine. As it stands, he wants to be coddled, and Steve's playfulness is feeding his own. Tony's narrowed eyes switch to a forlorn look. Swaying purposely into Steve, he presses the back of his hand to his brow like a nineteenth century lady. "Oh, you know what, I am feelin' kinda faint. I dunno if I'll make it," he laments.
"I'll fetch the smelling salts," Steve retorts, utterly deadpan. Nevertheless, he crouches slightly and scoops Tony up into a bridal carry, one arm tucked in the crook of his knees, the other supporting his back, and cradles him close to his chest. "Maybe if you didn't have a house the size of an entire city block, this wouldn't be a problem," he points out as he walks. It might be an exaggeration, but not by much. It seems ridiculous to him to have this whole place just for one solitary person. At least he'll have more people around when he moves to the compound with the rest of them.
"Gonna need you to lend a hand here." He stops in front of the refrigerator, showing no sign of putting Tony down. Instead, he clearly intends for Tony to open the fridge and take the cake out himself.
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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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"Gonna need you to lend a hand here." He stops in front of the refrigerator, showing no sign of putting Tony down. Instead, he clearly intends for Tony to open the fridge and take the cake out himself.
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