It's been a long time coming. Inevitability is a good way to think of it, and if they were in the mood to discuss the feeling rather than do something about it, Steve would have to agree. What he feels for Tony--what he's felt since he met him, but what only seems to be growing stronger now--is too complex to be named simply 'attraction' or 'lust' or even love, though there are bits of all of those things mixed up into it. There's an overwhelming awareness that he needs the foil, the check and balance he presents just by being Tony fucking Stark and sharing the same room with Steve. If Tony didn't exist, Steve would have to invent him.

This was bound to happen sooner or later. It didn't have to be such a rough road to get here, but that's on them both. Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably.

None of that changes the desperation, or the brutality of the backdrop they're struggling to escape and forget, but there's something like satisfaction in the thought that they were always going to end up in bed, all over one another, as soon as one of them gave in and admitted he wanted it.

"You think it's perfect?" Steve's smirk flickers wider, eyes sparkling between weak teasing and awkward pleasure, but he sets the packet aside for the moment while he finishes divesting Tony of his pants and runs his hands all over his legs and up his thighs. While he's getting away with this closeness, he's taking as much as he can, noting all the little scars like his own body should have if it were normal, and doesn't.

Lotion is what he reaches for before retrieving the condom again, pouring a little into his palm. It's hypoallergenic, unscented, which is for the best in this instance. "I need you to tell me if it's too rough or anything," he warns Tony, and hooks one of his legs over his shoulder while his slippery fingertip seeks out and presses gently into place. "I don't wanna hurt you."