This is a weird mix for him and though Tony is grief stricken and lustful and filled to the brim with fine oak-aged scotch in a quantity that is meant for sipping and not getting sloshed with, he can’t help but tense slightly when Steve starts talking. It’s not the flinch from before, not the burgeoning need to run should anyone make any sudden move, he’s just struck with nostalgia himself.
How did they get this far? No, honestly. What happened between harsh words to wanting to fuck each other’s brains out? Tony’s had his on and off again attraction to Steve Rogers from before he knew what attraction was, but hate and jealousy had overtaken that fairly quickly. They’ve had their friendship, mostly in the absentee, and they’ve had their fights, mostly in the sort that brought on vast longings to be near each other again, but crossing this particular line is still confusing.
He dumped food on the floor to see if Steve would clean it up. And he had, while taking it for an invitation.
Because... because Steve is attracted to him? Because grief needs an outlet? Because it’s been a long time coming, really.
Tony settles on the last answer, amber eyes lifting as Steve kneels over him. He’d enjoyed the view, the sleek lines of the blond’s body, but he is a more tactile man than a visual one. Funny, really, given how intensely anti touch he had been for a very long time.
“You don’t have a rifle barrel. Or a zucchini. And if you bust that open on your, frankly, perfect cock, I’m going to be very upset and make you go back to the pharmacy to buy a ten pack.” It doesn’t sound like a threat but at least there are words and they are spoken properly.
Despite having Captain Fucking America in his bed. How many people have gotten to say that? Maybe that photographer from Des Moines...
Or maybe no one at all. Steve has never been inside of someone before. And yeah. Tony really feels like gloating about it. “Come on, Captain. I’m not one of your chorus girls or stage hands. And I don’t like to be kept waiting.”
That’s not the drink talking, either. Tony is a bravado incarnate. And dumb enough to ignore his own safety protocols, too.
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Date: 2018-06-28 01:24 pm (UTC)How did they get this far? No, honestly. What happened between harsh words to wanting to fuck each other’s brains out? Tony’s had his on and off again attraction to Steve Rogers from before he knew what attraction was, but hate and jealousy had overtaken that fairly quickly. They’ve had their friendship, mostly in the absentee, and they’ve had their fights, mostly in the sort that brought on vast longings to be near each other again, but crossing this particular line is still confusing.
He dumped food on the floor to see if Steve would clean it up. And he had, while taking it for an invitation.
Because... because Steve is attracted to him? Because grief needs an outlet? Because it’s been a long time coming, really.
Tony settles on the last answer, amber eyes lifting as Steve kneels over him. He’d enjoyed the view, the sleek lines of the blond’s body, but he is a more tactile man than a visual one. Funny, really, given how intensely anti touch he had been for a very long time.
“You don’t have a rifle barrel. Or a zucchini. And if you bust that open on your, frankly, perfect cock, I’m going to be very upset and make you go back to the pharmacy to buy a ten pack.” It doesn’t sound like a threat but at least there are words and they are spoken properly.
Despite having Captain Fucking America in his bed. How many people have gotten to say that? Maybe that photographer from Des Moines...
Or maybe no one at all. Steve has never been inside of someone before. And yeah. Tony really feels like gloating about it. “Come on, Captain. I’m not one of your chorus girls or stage hands. And I don’t like to be kept waiting.”
That’s not the drink talking, either. Tony is a bravado incarnate. And dumb enough to ignore his own safety protocols, too.