fic: Rom-Commed By Fate (2/2)

[leashy_bebes]

=>direct intervention=>Steve Rogers
=>program paused
=>program reassessment:pending

In the morning, he wakes hungover and miserably embarrassed, and he doesn't know whether to feel better or worse that Steve is gone. That's about all that registers before sleep claims him again. The next time he wakes, Steve is there, curled around Tony like he never left. He brushes at Tony's bed-head and smiles down at him.

"Hi."

"Hey," Tony says, scrubbing at his eyes.

"I spoke to JARVIS."

"You did? Wow. I'd have liked to have been there for that."

"Well. You seemed...bothered – "

"Well done, that's – that was very tactfully put." Thank god his mouth takes over in times of crippling terror, right?

"It isn't that he doesn't have faith in you," Steve says, and he is not stopping. Why is he not stopping, people usually stop if Tony bullshits with enough authority.

Tony rolls his eyes. "Oh, lord. He has exactly as much faith in me as I do, lesson learned, thank you and goodnight."

"No. Considerably more, I think. He...cares about you. Wants you to be happy. He just felt like, maybe the way you usually do things is maybe not. Not ideal? I think he just wanted to shake things up a little. Uh." Steve blushes faintly and glances down. "I explained that maybe he didn't need to change everything, that maybe this is as slow as either of us can go."

"You – wow. Forties man and a programmed intelligence on the sexual mores of the twenty-first century. Did JARVIS keep a recording?"

"We agreed he would wipe it."

"Aw. So..."

"So he's going to give us some space."

"Seriously?"

Steve nods. "Seriously."

"I – you are a genius. And, you know, takes one to know one, so I don't say that lightly."

"I brought you coffee – "

"Genius."

" – but it's probably cold by now – "

"Don't care, gimme gimme."

The coffee is mostly cold, but it's still caffeine, and Tony slurps down half the cup while he tries to work out what he should be most embarrassed about. That he got rom-commed by his AI, that Steve and JARVIS had a conversation Tony will never be able to access, or the roaring-drunk-early-morning-vomiting-feelings-he-didn't-even-know-he-had episode. No, okay, definitely that last one, no matter how he tries to spin it. He fights the urge to curl into a very small ball of shame and wait until Steve goes away.

No. He's cooler than that. Marginally. He swirls the remains of the coffee around in his cup and cuts a glance at Steve, who is leaning back against the headboard and smiling faintly at Tony. He looks neat already, just dark jeans and a white t-shirt, but he makes it look so wholesome Tony's teeth ache.

"So uh – " Tony clears his throat, swigs the last of the coffee. "You still want – "

"Tony. Of course I – "

"Because I was a mess last night, that was the very definition – when people say, oh, Tony Stark, he's a messy drunk, stuff like last night is what they're talking about."

"Will you stop interrupting me?"

"Okay, go."

"No, I – I suppose I was mostly done. JARVIS aside, I don't see why this has to be complicated. I want to be with you, you want to be with me. You do want to be with me, right?"

"Um. Duh."

"Well, then." Steve plucks the coffee cup from Tony's hand and sets it back on the bedside table, catching hold of Tony's fingers after and rubbing across his knuckles. Steve looks at Tony through his lashes and Tony's stomach does a swooping, clenching thing that he tries really hard to put down to the cold coffee.

It's a little bit daunting to know they won't be interrupted by JARVIS. Oh sure, their lives are such that an emergency is never exactly far away, but if they have to stop it'll be for something actually serious, not because Steve's old fashioned morals have somehow infected Tony's AI. Although there's little old fashioned about the way Steve gets him pinned to the bed and hovers above him, smile making his eyes go soft.

But...

Tony wriggles. "Don't even think about kissing me. Even if JARVIS didn't put you off, my morning breath will. Let me shower."

Steve seems to consider that for a moment. "Let me scrub your back?"

"Done deal," Tony says promptly. "C'mere, come on, you are gonna love the shower in my room."

Well, Tony says shower. It's more of a wet-room. Multiple shower heads, offering everything from jets to mists to gentle patters. Also, there's a sauna option. It's stupidly self-indulgent, but Steve looks entranced. Tony shoves him towards the controls with a 'go play' and hastily brushes his teeth. By the time Tony's ready to join him, Steve is soaking wet, hair darkened and glistening where it's plastered to his head. He turns and reaches out a hand to Tony who takes it, unapologetically letting his eyes wander over Steve's body and, well. Damn.

In spite of JARVIS's best intentions, Tony's copped enough of a feel to know that Steve is packing in proportion to the rest of his ridiculously sexy body, but seeing him totally naked – and wet, can't forget that part – is something else. Steve lets him look for a moment, the blush building in his cheeks before he pulls Tony in for a kiss.

"God, you are – I just want to lick you," Tony tells him. Steve laughs against his mouth, kisses his cheekbone and down to the angle of his jaw. His arms go around Tony's waist in an easy embrace, his thumbs tracing quarter circles over the small of Tony's back as he nods at the arc reactor.

"Is that safe in water?"

"Shoot, no, I need to cover it with a plastic bag, thanks for reminding me," Tony teases. "Of course it's safe in water. I'm – "

"A genius, I know. How am I supposed to know? Metal rusts, I'm sure that hasn't changed."

There is an unpleasant truth about why Tony was so determined to make the reactor technology water-resistant, but this moment is too warm and beautiful to ruin. There will be dark nights to whisper the ugly stuff, Tony is sure of it, and even that is kinda beautiful too.

He kisses Steve instead of talking, and Steve is totally on board with that, his arms tightening around Tony to draw him closer. Even Steve's lips feel wet, and the slick way their bodies slide together makes Tony's breath catch.

"I wasn't kidding about scrubbing my back," Tony says, clawing his way towards some semblance of control. "I think my oil stains have oil stains. I'll deny it if you repeat this, but it's possible I've been spending too much time in the workshop."

Steve pretends to stagger in shock, uses the movement to reach past Tony and grab a handful of shower gel from one of the dispensers set into the wall. His hands are cooler this time as they sweep over Tony's back. Tony drops his head onto Steve's shoulder and the noise he makes is part-moan, but part-whimper too, and he just squeezes his eyes shut, lets Steve touch.

"Turn around," Steve says, his voice a low rumble against Tony's ear. Tony doesn't think he can be blamed for his knees going a little weak at that, but Steve being Steve, he meant turn around so I can rub your shoulders, not turn around so I can do unspeakably dirty things to your lower half.

And Tony was serious about getting Steve to wash his back, he really was. It's just that he was more serious about getting Steve to do it rather than having it done – it makes sense in Tony's head, okay, that's what matters. It's too much though, Steve's big hands squeezing at him, the knowledge that Steve is right there, and hello, very much naked.

He jerks out of Steve's hold and they crash together. Steve steadies them easily, which is great because it gives Tony chance to focus on the important things like kissing Steve's mouth until they're both gasping, then his throat, his shoulders, his chest, until the only way he can get any further is to get on his knees, and Tony has zero objections there. Steve makes a strangled noise and stares down at Tony, looking equal parts confused and turned on, his eyes huge and his lower lip sucked in between his teeth.

Steve's stomach is hard under Tony's mouth and he can feel it when Steve sucks in a breath. (It is not the only thing that's hard, Jesus, there is an actual chance Tony is dying and having some kind of final flare of consciousness wish-fulfilment that could be mistaken for heaven.) Part of Tony wants to tease, wants to drag it out til he hears the voice that goes with that look on Steve's face, but Steve is chewing his lip ragged and he looks like something important in his brain has seized up, looks helpless.

And there's not really much he could say that would trump that so Tony gets his hands on Steve's hips, breathing open-mouthed against Steve's abs to taste him over the nothingness of the shower water. He kisses Steve again, his hip, his navel, and he does get to lick then, at a drop of water tracing its way down Steve's skin. Steve shifts on his feet and his fingers rub through Tony's hair.

"You like that?"

"Don't be stupid, of course I do."

Tony hums happily and lets his hands wander a little, over Steve's thighs, up to his waist and back down again.

"You – "

"What, Steve?"

"You're so hot," he says with a self-conscious little chuckle.

It's harder to keep himself steady when he can't just talk and talk and talk. But he has Steve gasping, loud over the drumming of water, and it's too much to give up. And really, there is only so long Tony can ignore the proof of Steve's arousal. Even without JARVIS's intervention, Tony would have wanted to take this part slow. Not spook Steve, or push him too far. Steve, who has never been with another person, let alone another guy. Steve, who is shaking just a little whenever Tony touches him, just a thrum through those gorgeous muscles, who has his hands in Tony's hair and isn't even trying to hesitate, hasn't once said anything like stop or slow down.

Steve's easy acceptance makes Tony bolder and he sucks the head of Steve's cock into his mouth, just the very head where the flavour is richest. The skin is softness over hardness over heat and Tony lets his lips part further, lets himself have more.

"Oh my god, that feels incredible," Steve says in a low rush, and Tony wants to hug himself because seriously, he's barely even started yet. But he doesn't get any further, because Steve's fingers brush over his cheek, the very corner of his lips, and he says, "Can we – Tony, can we get out?"

And – out, really? Because that translates to 'please take your mouth off my dick', which is not really a phrase Tony is accustomed to.

"Uh – okay. If you wanna."

"I just – " Steve says. "If I slip and fall you'll never let me hear the end of it."

"If you slip and fall I'm buying myself a fucking medal."

"See? Like that," Steve says, and he sets his hand on Tony's shoulder, urges him to his feet.

"Okay, c'mon, then. Water off," he calls, and hustles Steve out of the shower, and Steve's reaching for a towel – really? Priorities, Rogers. Tony feels like he should be offended – when Tony kisses him again.

"If you liked the shower, you're gonna love the bed," Tony says cheerfully, pushing Steve towards it and oh god, that's a flicker of doubt on Steve's face, Tony knows it, and goddamn, second thoughts are the bane of his fucking life, seriously. His mouth sort of takes over, burbles on about, "Not just in a dirty way, I mean it's, uh – comfortable and the – the sunrise looks pretty special from right here, and it's – uh – large, so – "

Inside he is screaming, please, please interrupt me and maybe Steve is a little psychic on top of everything else, because, bless him, he does.

"You should have let me grab a towel. The sheets'll get wet."

"That's – okay, I am failing at my whole life if you're still thinking about getting the sheets wet, Jesus. I mean, I don't think you understand the extent to which I do not care about the sheets right now."

"I just – "

"No, seriously, that's your crisis? You're adorable."

"I'm not having a crisis."

"No? Good, me neither. And I solemnly swear to sleep in the wet spot. Or, you know, whine until we switch to your room, okay? So. Are we good? Bed?"

"We're good. And yes. Yes to bed."

"Good! It's awesome to be on the same page about that." Tony hooks his hand around the back of Steve's neck and cranes upward to kiss him. "In the interests of being on the same page about everything else, how would you feel about fucking me?"

Steve kinda splutters and his cheeks burn as he tries to pull back to look at Tony. Tony only lets him go so far before kissing him again. "I don't – " Steve says against his mouth. "I never – "

"I figured," Tony says, trying to just breeze past it. "First time out, yeah? So my thinking is, you're in the driving seat, plus you get to see what someone who loves getting fucked looks like."

Steve blushes. Yep. Naked as they day he was born, hard as a rock, and he fucking blushes. Tony wants to keep him forever.

"You do?"

"Oh, yeah," Tony says, hauling Steve closer to whisper,"There's nothing like it, Steve,"

Finally, finally, Tony gets Steve over to the bed, pulls Steve down over him and just lets himself get lost in the pleasure of Steve's body above him. Steve's hand curls around his jaw, tilts Tony to the right angle to kiss him deep and slow and crazy-good.

"Show me," Steve says, and fuck, that's his command voice, definitely, and Tony – well, this is the one place Tony doesn't resent being told what to do. "Show me how to make it good for you."

"Uh. Yeah, I can do that," Tony assures him. "I can totally do that."

He tries to wriggle away to reach for supplies, but Steve only lets him move far enough to ascertain his target before he pushes Tony back into the bed and reaches over himself. There's the bossy streak, Tony thinks fondly. Alive and well, that's good to know.

The last of Tony's patience runs out when Steve casts a look up down his body and tells him, "My god, Tony, I want you so much."

Tony's stomach clenches up tight and he has to close his eyes for a second, force out a slow, careful breath. "Okay, good, here." He snatches the lube from Steve's fist and slicks his own fingers. With Steve crouched above him the way he is, it takes a bit of stretching, but he's almost got a finger inside himself when Steve shifts, catches hold of his wrist.

"Wait, stop."

Tony wants to cry, because seriously?

But Steve goes on, "I want – can I do that?"

"Hell yes," Tony tells him immediately, tossing the lube back in Steve's direction and letting his arms fall to his sides, his legs spread.

Steve stares at him for a long moment and it's a little unnerving to have Steve study him the way Captain America studies a tactical situation. But given Cap's success rate with all things tactical, maybe it bodes well. Steve's first touch is a hesitant blur of sensation and Tony has to urge him on, tilting his hips as he rolls his head back into the pillows.

With the inward press, Tony shifts his hips, focusing on relaxing, because he wants to make this not just good but easy for Steve, has to trust to his body to show Steve how much Tony wants him.

Quickly he's insisting, "Go on, gimme more," and Steve looks up at him the corners of his lips quirked into what might be a smile. But there's a question on his face too, and Tony groans. He fully intended not to be a selfish bastard, but if he's being selfish on both their behalves, maybe it's okay?

"Really, honestly, totally sure," he insists. "And if you were anyone else, I'd threaten to put you on your back and do the work myself, but that'd be pretty much the definition of an empty threat, so..."

Steve seems more able to function with the constant flow of Tony's bullshit in his ear, so Tony carries on about, "Next time, yeah. That'd be really hot, and – Christ, I just want it, Steve."

Somewhere in the middle of that, Steve gets another slick finger into Tony's body and Tony pushes into the stretch, babble tailing off for a second into a long, breathy yeaaaah. There's a single lock of Steve's hair hanging in his face, dripping water or sweat onto his brow and along to his temple. He still looks tightly controlled, but with a definite edge of something else creeping up fast.

"Push a little deeper," Tony urges. "And sorta – curl your fingers," he says, thinking maybe Steve can reach – stupid, of course he can. Right there. "That, I am gonna teach you about in extensive detail," Tony promises, the sudden spike of pleasure making the words heavy and hot in his throat. "There may be a quiz after."

Steve looks like he might laugh but kisses Tony instead, high up on the inside of his thigh, so close to where Tony's guiltily imagined him that he goes silent to keep from begging, fingers curled so tight into the sheets that they ache. And of course, it's fucking dangerous to let Steve have this kind of ammo. His eyes light up and he leans more weight into the push of his fingers, keeps up an angle and pace that makes Tony see stars every time. He's writhing and moaning and it would be embarrassing if Steve wasn't so...Steve. If he wasn't looking at Tony in a way that makes him sure Steve is noting his every response, if his whole face wasn't lit up like Tony is the best thing in the fucking world.

Tony has to stop him, because otherwise this show is going to be over way too soon, and Steve looks down at him, concern obvious on his face.

"Did it hurt?"

"Not even a little," Tony assures him. "Just, ah – go easy yeah, or you're gonna make me embarrass myself. Another finger, go on."

Steve does, nodding absently to himself, over-generous with the lube to the point where Tony feels soaked with it, where every little movement produces a slick, slapping noise that makes Steve's ears blaze with the force of his blush. Tony can't stop smiling, loving the play of expressions over Steve's face – surprise and then pleasure and urgency by turns, like getting his fingers inside Tony is the most fascinating thing that's ever happened to him.

God, Steve is wonderful (or terrible depending on your point of view) for Tony's ego.

"That's enough, I'm ready," Tony insists. It's technically mostly true. It's not quite enough, but Tony is more than ready, so he thinks it evens itself out. Steve doesn't seem to be buying it though.

"Tony – "

"C'mon, believe me, I will train you well young Jedi, but for now, only one of us can claim to be an expert about what does it for my body," Tony tells him, barely even trying to keep the whine out of his voice. "Come on, Steve. I want it."

"But you – " Steve's voice shakes, just a little. "You're still so tight."

"And that's why it's fun for you, too. Don't make me beg. Unless that's your thing, I can do that if that's your thing, just give me a second to, you know, adjust my mindset into that of someone who begs."

"If I do it, will you stop talking?"

"Maybe, I don't know. Depends how you do it."

Steve sort of laughs, and sort of shakes his head despairingly. "God, you – I can't keep up with you."

"Sure you can, you're doing fine," Tony promises him, running a hand through Steve's hair. "Don't bail on me now, handsome."

Steve kisses him then, missing his mouth and catching his chin at first until they right themselves and Tony drinks down the unique flavour of the moan that shivers out of Steve.

"Do I – need a condom?" Steve asks, his voice hot against Tony's cheek.

Oh. Hmm. "Well. You're immune to all known infections, viruses and basically...everything. And I'm a lot cleaner than my reputation would have you believe, so – "

"Oh, god, Tony, I didn't mean that!" Steve says, his face falling, and they really need to have a conversation about how much of what Tony says Steve can totally, utterly disregard.

"I know, I'm kidding. I'm saying – you know. Your call."

Steve leans down to kiss Tony, whispers, "No, then. If that's okay."

"Sure." Honestly. If that's okay. Tony wants to laugh, but there's something blocking the noise as he watches Steve slick himself, the flushed head of his cock obscene as it juts from his fist.

The first push of slow, blunt pressure is intense, and Tony wonders if he has been, for want of a better word, cocky. But Steve tucks his face into Tony's throat and he's breathing – not fast, but hard, as though every breath is effortful. It sets off a rush of tenderness that Tony resolves to think about later – or maybe never, that would work too – and he kisses the top of Steve's head, every smart-ass comment dying in his mouth as soon as he thinks of them. Steve sinks into him, slow and careful, but nothing can hide the fact that Tony can feel it everywhere.

"Easy, now," Tony says, hands on Steve's hips. "Give me a minute."

Steve makes a strangled noise against Tony's throat and Tony strokes through his hair. Steve's almost trembling with the effort of holding still and Tony feels bad for that but Steve is, yeah ha-ha, big all over and Tony just needs to breathe for a second. Maybe two.

"Okay," Tony tells him. His hands feel like they're burning on Steve's body, over-hot everywhere they're touching.

"What do – "

"Universal language," Tony tells him, patting Steve's hip. "You know what to do."

And Steve does, obviously. He gives a slow roll of his hips, too hesitant and not hard enough, but that's somehow okay too. Tony makes a sound of encouragement and runs his fingers through Steve's hair. Steve turns into the touch without looking at Tony, and the next time he pushes in, it's slow and deep.

"Yeah, that's good," Tony urges. "Just like that, go on."

When Steve lifts his head, his eyes are dark and lust-blown and Tony never wants him to look any different. He's hesitant at first, probably as much to keep from coming as to save Tony any discomfort, but when he gets his groove, he's shockingly good at it. Super-serum, natural rhythm, heavenly blessing, what the fuck ever, Tony loves it.

"Is that okay?" Steve asks, and he barely sounds out of breath. Christ, they are going to have so much fun. Tony makes a mental note to look up a copy of the Kama Sutra because seriously, every damn position.

"That is great," Tony assures him. "Little harder? Or not, whatever, have fun. I am."

Steve gasps out a laugh, tells him, "You're ridiculous."

"And you're like a sex-savant or something."

"See? Ridiculous."

Tony wasn't joking before, wasn't (just) trying to turn Steve on, he really does love getting fucked by someone that knows what they're doing. And Steve – hell, Steve is a fast learner. Tony arches his back, squeezes down on Steve and the response is perfect. Tony wants to immortalise it, wants the film clip playing in his head on a loop, the way Steve's face goes startled and then wild, the way his lips shiver as he says, do that again, don't stop that, the eager way his hands skitter across Tony's body, disorganised but desperate.

Tony's done a lot in his life (of stupid things goes without saying, but right now he means the good things). Stuff that's been described as revolutionary works of genius with implications for the future of humanity at large (Time magazine's words, not his), but now he's made Steve look like that, and somehow that feels like the most expert, accomplished thing he's ever done.

Steve's got one hand on the bed, holding his weight easily while his other hand touches Tony's face, traces his lips. Steve gets that look again, that I cannot believe how much I cannot believe what you're doing look, when Tony catches the tip of Steve's thumb between his lips, traces the curve of his nail and sucks.

Steve's thrusts falter and then pick up again, faster this time. Tony hooks his ankles together behind Steve's back, a low moan dragging out of his chest. There's no hiding the grin on Steve's face, like something has clicked into place, and he makes a small circle with his hips as he pushes in and holy shit, is this instinct or just Steve being obnoxiously good at everything physical, or what? Tony doesn't really care because goddamn, Steve has totally got this, and who cares why, right?

Steve looms over and kisses him, a gasping press of their lips, and the change in position makes Tony cry out into Steve's mouth. And Steve knows he's got this, looks all happy and whatever the polite-person version of smug is. Add it to the list of things he doesn't care about, because most of Tony's higher functioning is focused on not reaching for his own dick and giving himself the approximately three and a half strokes it'd take to get him off. Steve seems to read the thought in his eye and his hand curls around Tony's bicep, down the length of his arm to curl their fingers together and press Tony's hand into the bed about shoulder height.

Tempting as it is to stay where he is and just take it, Tony wants to see how else he can make Steve looks so he moves with him, hips working to meet Steve's hard thrusts. Their lips catch occasionally, barely worth calling a kiss, just a scalding rush of Steve's breath over his mouth.

"Is that good?" Steve asks.

Asshole, he thinks, but manages to say, "Don't be such a dumb blond."

"Tony. Tell me."

Tony throws his head back into the pillows. "Yes. Okay? Yes. It's good, of course it's good, don't – ah – don't stop."

"I'm not – I don't want to," Steve tells him, low, like confession.

"Well that works out nicely," Tony says, letting his nails wander along Steve's spine to hear him hiss, to feel the little catch in his breath and the way his thrusts speed up. Tony is going to learn every single one of those little tells, he promises himself. Because Steve's body is gorgeous and exploring it is going to be fun (and maybe just a little because of the different shades that flit over Steve's eyes like thoughts dancing through his head).

Tony catches hold of the back of Steve's neck and pulls him up and in for a proper kiss, all languid and heated and dirty as Steve licks into his mouth, a rumble of a groan shaking his chest as Tony curls his fingers upward and tugs on the ends of Steve's hair. Steve shoves in deep and hard, and pleasure catches Tony off-guard, his cock pressed tight between them.

"Ohhh fuck," Tony moans, his voice cracking on the words.

Steve freezes up while Tony comes, then gives him a look from under his lashes. His eyes are dark. "Do I – should I – "

"No, no, don't go anywhere, okay. Finish up. Still feels good," Tony assures Steve as he moves, painstakingly slow. Tony knows this from both sides, and can't wait til Steve can say the same. Because it's like some crazy sort of feedback loop, lazy ragged jolts of pleasure for himself, and he can imagine the way those unpredictable bursts for him translate into frantic clutches around Steve's shaft as he drives in and in and in.

Steve looks like he's half out of his head, looks stunned and beautiful, and weirdly innocent considering he's balls deep in Tony's ass. Tony's clumsy as he tangles his hands in Steve's hair and pulls him down to kiss him. That's what pushes Steve over the edge, and that is...really fucking gratifying. He's pleasantly, surprisingly noisy, a mix of wordless but enthusiastic shouts and more tremulous oh god, Tony, oh gods.

Tony lets himself go boneless, melting into the sheets to enjoy the heavy weight of Steve above him. He's still panting into Tony's neck, slowly coming back to himself, fingers gentle as they trace Tony's ribs and smooth over his beard. His first coherent word is wow, and Tony has to kiss him again. The next thing he says is, "Thank you," and Tony just can't with that.

He squeezes Steve tight and tells him, "It was my very sincere pleasure. No, really. You saw my pleasure, right? There was a lot of it."

"Tony! Don't be crude."

"Oh, baby, if you think that's crude... God, we are gonna have a lot of fun together. Mainly I'm gonna have fun finding out how far south that blush goes, but I think you'll enjoy it too."

Steve laughs, settles at Tony's side and then says, like an afterthought, "I can stay the night, right?"

And Tony supposes the doubt is not unwarranted, but still...

"Unless you've got somewhere better to be," he says, trying for flippant.

"Nowhere in the world," Steve says, that heartbreaking earnestness back in full force.

Tony pats his hip, sleepy now, and says, "Awesome."

There's silence for a long moment, but he'd swear he can feel Steve's eyes raking over his body. Tony imagines what he must be seeing – he feels ragged and wrung-out, pleasantly sore and utterly content, and he can't even contemplate moving, so he's pretty damn perturbed, to say the least, when Steve does exactly that. The bed shifts as he moves to sit upright.

"What, what, where are you going?" he asks, a flailing hand all he can manage right now. Steve catches hold of it, thumbs over Tony's palm.

"Two seconds," he promises, and then he's back with a damp cloth and Tony supposes he should feel guilty about taking Steve's virginity and then leaving him to deal with the clean-up. But the truth is, Tony can't bring himself to give a damn about the idea of waking up still sticky and unmistakeably well-fucked. If Steve cares enough to move, that's his problem, and Tony can't deny the cool sweep of the cloth is pleasant.

There's a plop which he assumes is Steve chucking the cloth back into the bathroom – impeccable aim comes in handy yet again – and then Steve settles down onto the bed again. They're not quite touching, but Tony can feel the heat coming off him, and that is...really, really good.

Tony has to clear his throat before he manages to get out, "Lights off."

That leaves only the glow of the reactor inside the room, the city a fluorescent blur outside. Steve turns onto his side and traces his forefinger over some of the scarring around the reactor's casing. Tony finds he doesn't really mind.

"You were right," Steve says, and Tony hums, reluctantly forcing an eye open.

"Course I was. About what?"

"That looked like fun. You sold it well."

Tony laughs and lifts Steve's hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it before biting at his knuckle, because it's right there and why not. "Later," Tony promises. "In the morning, maybe."

"Mmm." Steve settles down again and Tony wonders if the heat coming off him is a subjective perception or something to do with the serum. Metabolism, maybe?

Tony waits until he's sure Steve's asleep before he whispers, "Hey, JARVIS?"

"Yes, Mr Stark?"

"Thanks. But you need to stop now, okay?"

"Sir?"

"Seriously, JARVIS. You won, okay? Please stop trying to fix us."

Steve shifts against Tony's shoulder, makes a whuzat kind of noise. Tony hushes him and settles closer against the warmth of him, the silence deepening in a way that means JARVIS has gone offline.

"Please stop trying to fix us"
=>KEYWORD ALERT:us
=>CONTEXT ALERT:intimacy
=>TONE ALERT:affection, determination, happiness
=>program phase:complete