It's probably Steve's fault in some indirect way, like so much of what they've been through together. He moves through the world on his own terms, in his own path, and everything around him ripples and shifts in his wake. His ethos has weight; his passion has more. Maybe decades ago when he was first going down on chorus girls he was able to do it without overflowing with tenderness. Probably not, though.
He's been stripped of everyone and everything. What remains is one mission and one man. Tony is in the somewhat risky position of being the only outlet Steve has, the only outlet he will have, for his affection. It might feel good or it might be overwhelming. Or both. Either way, getting away from emotions through sex is unlikely.
Especially when Tony looks up at Steve like this, playful cockiness falling away into a perfect echo of what Steve himself is feeling. Emptiness reaching for emptiness, craving to be filled. And they can do that, even if only for a few moments. Even if they may end up breaking one another in the long term, here they are, and Steve aches with it.
"Everything," he promises, kisses back, lips to lips, and then slides his arm gently under Tony's shoulders, holding him closer. And he doesn't stop there, kissing his cheeks, under the hinge of his jaw, as far down his throat as he can reach without disrupting the stroking his other hand is doing. "Everything. I promise."
This one, he'll keep. There's Bucky, trapped somewhere, and he won't forget about saving him--but this Bucky belongs to the other Steve. There are a hundred things he can think of that they should change, lives to be saved and evil to be destroyed. They can do that together. They can put one another first. They have to.
He wants to.
Same as earlier, he murmurs endearments to Tony as they move together, and he'd be the first to admit he would rather be inside him again--or have Tony fucking him; that'd be a new experience and he wants it--but this is as intimate, in its own way. He makes more noise this time around, moaning and gasping against the other man's skin, crying out when he comes.
"I'm here," he pants out, nuzzling into his hair as he starts to come down. "I'm here, Tony, I'm with you."
Not 'till the end of the line'. That was his and Bucky's line. But it's the same sentiment. Dangerously, devastatingly, frighteningly parallel.
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Date: 2018-07-19 03:40 am (UTC)He's been stripped of everyone and everything. What remains is one mission and one man. Tony is in the somewhat risky position of being the only outlet Steve has, the only outlet he will have, for his affection. It might feel good or it might be overwhelming. Or both. Either way, getting away from emotions through sex is unlikely.
Especially when Tony looks up at Steve like this, playful cockiness falling away into a perfect echo of what Steve himself is feeling. Emptiness reaching for emptiness, craving to be filled. And they can do that, even if only for a few moments. Even if they may end up breaking one another in the long term, here they are, and Steve aches with it.
"Everything," he promises, kisses back, lips to lips, and then slides his arm gently under Tony's shoulders, holding him closer. And he doesn't stop there, kissing his cheeks, under the hinge of his jaw, as far down his throat as he can reach without disrupting the stroking his other hand is doing. "Everything. I promise."
This one, he'll keep. There's Bucky, trapped somewhere, and he won't forget about saving him--but this Bucky belongs to the other Steve. There are a hundred things he can think of that they should change, lives to be saved and evil to be destroyed. They can do that together. They can put one another first. They have to.
He wants to.
Same as earlier, he murmurs endearments to Tony as they move together, and he'd be the first to admit he would rather be inside him again--or have Tony fucking him; that'd be a new experience and he wants it--but this is as intimate, in its own way. He makes more noise this time around, moaning and gasping against the other man's skin, crying out when he comes.
"I'm here," he pants out, nuzzling into his hair as he starts to come down. "I'm here, Tony, I'm with you."
Not 'till the end of the line'. That was his and Bucky's line. But it's the same sentiment. Dangerously, devastatingly, frighteningly parallel.