Tony is not okay. He’s not anywhere near okay. Though he had settled down against Steve’s arm and Steve’s chest after the initial stretch and burn of entry, having propped himself up on his own elbow and hand to better see what was going on over his shoulder, now that the blond is fully seated inside of him, there’s an emotional burst he can’t really figure out how to deal with. Steve is thicker than Tony’s had before, and he’s not had anyone like this in years. One’s body tends to forget how to stretch, and though it’s been given a crash course in that facet of this little activity, Tony feels entirely too full.
He’s not whimpering, not like he had been with Steve’s mouth wrapped around him, but making low, generously deep groans in his throat each time Steve moves. The way he breathes, the inflation of his diaphragm, causes the blond to shift and Tony grips the sheets even as he bows his head forward to accept he affectionate whisper-kisses from Steve’s lips on his neck.
“A minute,” he finally growls out, which immediately is followed up by a breathier pleading: “stay-stay still— Fuck, you’re huge. Let me get... get used to you—“
It’s sex. It’s intimate by its very nature, bodies pressing together, bodies entering one another, but Steve just can’t seem to help but make what should be about release into something so impossibly loving. He’s no bucking bronco, a quick start out of the gate. He’s there. Present. Mindful. Checking on him. And all Tony can thing to do is turn his cheek against his elbow and lightly press his lips there.
He counts every second over the next minute, mind keeping perfect time against the world clock. At sixty, he releases his hold on the blankets and grasps blindly for Steve’s other hand to press his palm against his belly. He wants to be held. That’s not normal for him. He experimentally grips the already too wide shaft inside of him with his abdominal muscles and exhales in hot bursts against Steve’s skin.
So, he thinks for himself for a moment, they aren’t going to be fucking tonight. Steve Rogers is going to make love to him, slowly, and it’s going to be utterly mind blowing. He holds onto that as he relaxes, settling his fingers into the grooves between Steve’s knuckles.
“I’m ready,” he says, with a swallow, pressing back against the blond’s thighs, his cock twitching from the effort, delicious and aching at the same time. “Be gentle. And slow...”
He’s not sure if he added that for his own benefit...or because he sort of knows that it will make Steve’s blood burn to know that he’s submitting to him in this. Tony never yields to anyone.
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He’s not whimpering, not like he had been with Steve’s mouth wrapped around him, but making low, generously deep groans in his throat each time Steve moves. The way he breathes, the inflation of his diaphragm, causes the blond to shift and Tony grips the sheets even as he bows his head forward to accept he affectionate whisper-kisses from Steve’s lips on his neck.
“A minute,” he finally growls out, which immediately is followed up by a breathier pleading: “stay-stay still— Fuck, you’re huge. Let me get... get used to you—“
It’s sex. It’s intimate by its very nature, bodies pressing together, bodies entering one another, but Steve just can’t seem to help but make what should be about release into something so impossibly loving. He’s no bucking bronco, a quick start out of the gate. He’s there. Present. Mindful. Checking on him. And all Tony can thing to do is turn his cheek against his elbow and lightly press his lips there.
He counts every second over the next minute, mind keeping perfect time against the world clock. At sixty, he releases his hold on the blankets and grasps blindly for Steve’s other hand to press his palm against his belly. He wants to be held. That’s not normal for him. He experimentally grips the already too wide shaft inside of him with his abdominal muscles and exhales in hot bursts against Steve’s skin.
So, he thinks for himself for a moment, they aren’t going to be fucking tonight. Steve Rogers is going to make love to him, slowly, and it’s going to be utterly mind blowing. He holds onto that as he relaxes, settling his fingers into the grooves between Steve’s knuckles.
“I’m ready,” he says, with a swallow, pressing back against the blond’s thighs, his cock twitching from the effort, delicious and aching at the same time. “Be gentle. And slow...”
He’s not sure if he added that for his own benefit...or because he sort of knows that it will make Steve’s blood burn to know that he’s submitting to him in this. Tony never yields to anyone.