29.
Tony blinked several times and stared dully at the ceiling. He was sprawled in the middle of the bed, his legs tangled in the sheets, enjoying the cool air from the air conditioner on the wall. The apartment was dark and the only light came from his chest and the balcony. It didn't surprise him. It was three in the morning and neither of them usually slept. Their routine had been absolutely disrupted since their vacation had begun. Tony never really had one, but Steve did. That's why Tony was surprised when Steve stopped running in the morning. He'd stay up late with him, they'd walk around the city at night, sit by the sea or just lie in bed and do nothing. Steve once said they both just needed to switch off. And he was right.
They'd practically become bats. They got up after noon, went to bed at dawn or not at all. Sometimes Tony would fall asleep for an hour or two around midnight, only to wake up again and enjoy the night world. It was quiet. So much calmer than daytime and that was what made him feel better. It was quiet, no noise from the streets or the murmur of voices. No worries or responsibilities. Just silence, wind and cicadas. The sound of the sea just below their windows.
He stand up, pulled on his shorts and walked barefoot to the wide open balcony door. He stopped for a moment and just watched in silence. Steve sat with his back to him in front of a huge canvas, painting. His hands were covered in paint, brushes of various sizes behind both ears. All around him were tubes of paint, palettes and jars of coloured water. He had brought the paints with him and Tony had the canvas delivered to their room the first day they arrived. He painted exactly what they saw from the balcony. The sea, the beach, and the lights of the nearby town on the right. Since he sat at it mostly at night, he painted from memory, which Tony just marveled at.
"Wanna a drink?" He asked, motioning with his brush to the bottle of scotch without turning around. Tony just grunted in agreement, grabbed a clean glass and helped himself. He sat down in a chair in the corner, threw his legs out on the opposite chair and settled back with a contented sigh.
"How's it going?"
"Not well, I can't mix the right shade," Steve grumbled sullenly. Tony chuckled and continued to look at him thoughtfully. Steve frowned in concentration, a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. When he lit up one for the first time, Tony just remained staring at him, puzzled. He soon learned that it was an old habit that Steve had brought with him from the last century. He had always smoked while painting and wasn't about to stop, even though the nicotine no longer had any effect on him. It was a ritual, much like Tony’s music at full volume and neverending sweet snacks.
Tony smirked at that. A long time ago, when he first tried cigarettes himself, he got a lecture from his father during which he mentioned that Captain America had never smoked! Phew, you didn't know anything about him, Dad, Tony thought amusedly, taking a sip from his glass. He grew up with the idea of the perfect Captain America. And that was probably why he hated him for the most part. He much preferred this Captain, this Steve. A man who had his own vices and faults. He was as imperfect as any other man. Ironically, the more bad things Tony knew about him, the more he liked him. And the more he thought of him as truly perfect. In many ways.
With a slight shake of his head and a contented sigh, he broke his own train of thought. Taking another sip, he set his glass down on the coffee table and set to work on the starkpad. Sometimes they spent their evenings like this. Tony entertained himself with designing, Steve painted. They were mostly silent. That was a good sign. If they spent the evening in contented silence, it meant they were both at peace.
They had worse days, much worse. Either one or the other was in deep shit, or at worst, both of them. But Tony had to admit that he was losing control of himself more often than not. Steve had a habit of burying everything in himself, Tony had to vent. And the events of the last few weeks hadn't really added to his mental health.
"Catch," Steve hummed and threw a penny at him, Tony caught it deftly.
"Am I in such a bad way that you're giving me your spare change?" He laughed. Steve exhaled smoke through his nose and looked at it thoughtfully, nodding.
"You're hairier than usual, I'll give you that."
Tony laughed and scratched his beard. He was right, he should cut them short again. The problem was, he didn't want to. He didn't want to do anything at all.
"Penny for your thoughts," Steve explained, rinsing the brush in his glass of water. Tony grinned, watching him. What was he actually thinking about? About how messed up everything seemed to be? Yeah, he thought about that all the time.
Tony opened his mouth to say exactly that... and he closed it again. They'd already been through this. They'd been through a lot in the last few days, and they weren't always pleasant conversations. And today, of all days, he wasn't in the mood for anything unpleasant. It was a beautiful night, he was feeling good, and even Steve seemed to be on a positive note. He smiled. He could complain later.
"I'm thinking about how you do it," he uttered casually, crossing his ankles on the chair. Steve raised an eyebrow, but didn't look at him and continued to paint.
"How do I do what?"
"Oh, this," he waved a hand toward him. "You take three colors, some of that brush, and suddenly it's a painting. I don't get it. "He babbled contentedly, smiling. It was true though, he had watched him almost every night for the last few days and just marveled. When it came to sketches of a new suit, car, equipment or building, he was good at that. That was what Tony excelled at, and even without Jarvis' help. He could sketch anything. Hell, he designed the first suit in the cave! But paint and brushes? Canvas? Ugh, the last time he'd painted with finger paints was in kindergarten and he ended up getting the whole table, the wall and himself dirty. Mrs. Parker did not like his artistic spirit one bit.
"Do you want to try it?"
Tony didn't hesitate for a moment, he was on my feet in a second and walked towards him. He pushed the pallet away and sat right in front of him. Steve sat straddling the long bench, giving him plenty of room both in front of him and behind him, and Tony planned to take advantage of that.
"I'll ruin it for you," he warned him, taking the paintbrush from him.
"I can always paint over it."
Tony chuckled, then put on the expression of a thoughtful artist and began tapping the tip of the brush against his lip. He looked carefully at what Steve had painted so far, while the aforementioned soldier wrapped his arms around his waist and rested his forehead against his shoulder. Cuddly, Tony thought amusedly, but refrained from commenting. He'd gotten used to it by now. And it wasn't a bad getting used to.
His raised hand trembled as Steve's stubble scratched his neck, immediately replaced by his soft lips. Tony narrowed his eyes in satisfaction, a chill running down his back.
"You wanted to paint," Steve reminded in a whisper, but his mouth never left the sensitive skin of Tony's neck and shoulder. What a fucker, he thought amusedly, dipping his brush into the paint. He leaned over, drew a plain black stick man on the beach, and pulled away again. He shook his head in satisfaction.
"So, that's you when you ran to get your balls frozen."
They both burst out laughing, Tony put down his paintbrush and looked over his shoulder. They hadn't picked the best time to go on holiday, the days and nights were warm but the sea hadn't had time to warm up yet. When Steve had come out of it yesterday, he had declared that it had certainly been warmer in the ice.
"I'll leave the painting to you," Tony patted his cheek and stood up. He walked back and forth on the balcony and watched as Steve returned to his work undisturbed once more. He grinned. They could both play this game.
He slipped onto the bench behind Steve and wrapped his arms around his waist, just as he'd done to him earlier. He nuzzled his face against his neck and just breathed contentedly. He could smell the paint, the salty scent of the sea and the tobacco from the cigarettes. And underneath it all, his specific scent, fresh and light. It was a pleasant scent Tony would recognize anywhere. He could smell it on his clothes, and on the pillows in his bed.
"Tony?"
"Hmm?" He murmured back, sending butterfly kisses down Steve’s neck. He stopped when Steve didn't speak again. He leaned forward over his shoulder and quirked an eyebrow curiously. Only then did Steve turn his head so he could whisper directly into his ear, "Would you like to fuck me?"
Tony's breath caught in his throat. He pulled away and stared at him, wide-eyed. Steve turned to see him better and smiled smugly. The smile didn't disappear, even as the silence lengthened, his eyes just grew softer and he added: "Only if you want to. "
Tony swayed his pelvis and pushed his crotch against Steve’s lower back, raising his eyebrows in amusement. Tony Jr. definitely wanted to, and he was making it clear. A quiet 'oh' came out of Steve, and he chuckled and mumbled: "I'll take that as a yes."
"This is a definite yes, Captain," he hummed contentedly, pressing another kiss to his neck and rushing into the bedroom, bouncing happily. He was excited. Nervous, yes, but excited. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about it until now. He had, almost daily. And he studied! He'd scoured every internet site, watched a few adult movies. He even experimented himself! So in theory, he knew exactly what to do. He lacked practice, but that was about to change. He folded his arms and looked around the bedroom. Okay, where had he put the lube?
Steve sat down on the edge of the bed and watched in amusement as Tony ran back and forth across the bedroom, searching through all the drawers and bags. Then, with an enthusiastic "Hallelujah!" he lifted the tube of lubricating gel high into the air. All nervousness left Steve. He laughed and shook his head at his actions. Tony gave him a seductive look and switched the tube from one hand to the other.
"Are you showing off the seductive tossing of lube?"
"Oh, is that what would seduce you? How about this?" He chuckled and tossed the tube into the air, it spun once and landed back in his palm. Steve rolled his eyes, toying with him. He slid further down the bed and spread his legs.
"Hmmm, keep going," he urged. The corners of Tony's mouth twitched into a smile, but somehow he managed to keep a straight face.
"How about a toss with a spin?" He said, tossing the tube into the air once more and spinning quickly before catching it again. It nearly fell to the ground, bouncing into his palm several times before he finally caught it clumsily. Steve held back his laughter.
"A little longer and I might even have a spontaneous orgasm."
Neither of them could stand it anymore and they burst out laughing. Tony threw the lube on the bed and walked over to him. He stood between Steve's spread legs and looked down at him with a smile.
"Any instructions?" He murmured, gently working his way through Steve's hair on the back of his neck. "Because I've been studying, really hard, you know? And I've been practicing. So I know… kinda. But if you want to give me a lecture first, I'm all ears."
A smile spread across Steve's face again. He knew all too well about Tony's "studies". He had walked behind him several times and caught a glimpse of what he was reading or looking at. He grabbed the back of his head and pressed a brief kiss to his lips.
"Let's see what you've learned. Or I might as well do it myself," he suggested. Tony immediately frowned.
"Ugh, no way. I didn't spend so many hours on the Internet to leave all the hard work to you afterwards. No, no, no, no way."
Tony wrapped his arms around his neck and sat on his lap. Steve lay down with him, coming up to meet his kisses and shivering with excitement and eagerness. Tony lazily rubbed his crotch against Steve’s, his hands roaming over his body.
"Leave it to me tonight, huh?" He whispered, moving to his neck. Steve willingly tilted his head and closed his eyes, Tony showering his sensitive skin with kisses and nibbles, moving lower and lower with each one.
"I'll take care of you. I'll make sure you feel so good," he whispered into his skin, "I want tonight to be about you, Stevie."
Steve exhaled heavily and tensed as Tony's teeth brushed against his nipple. His heart pounded violently in his chest and Tony's husky, low pitched voice sent waves of arousal through his entire body.
"You act like this is my first time," he whispered, laughter in his voice. Tony immediately looked up.
"Well, in a way..."
Steve cocked an eyebrow in incomprehension. Tony moved up again and pecked him on the lips.
"From the little you told me, I gather it wasn't quite... like this back then. You couldn't just go to a hotel or someone's house and do it all night, could you?"
Steve paused and nodded slowly. Maybe it was possible, but he didn't do it that way. It was mostly back alleys, back rooms in bars, or toilets. Exceptionally a room with a bed. Often no names, no talking, just a quickie and then both went about their business. Sex that usually left him with a strange aching emptiness in his chest. He shook his head quickly to chase those memories away and turned his head away. Tony's lips were instantly back on his neck, caressing the soft skin, and his hand sought out Steve's. He intertwined their fingers and squeezed it tightly.
"So," he continued, "I figured we'd do it right and proper tonight. Maybe I'll finally knock that nonsense that's still lingering in your head. I can see that, Steve, okay? I can see that whenever we're done, you're just waiting to see if I'm going to kick you out or not."
Steve immediately turned his gaze back to him and was met with a gentle look in his brown eyes. He hadn't expected him to say something like that. Honestly, he hoped Tony never noticed. It didn't always happen and it never lasted long, but yes, what Tony had said was true. He swallowed idly and tried to pull away, but Tony wouldn't let him. He tangled his free hand in his hair and brushed his lips gently against his, just in the promise of a kiss.
"Will you let me? I want to show you that I really want you. That I- that I care about you," he smiled. "I want to show you that I'm with you because I want to, and that it's not just going to change. What do you say, Stevie?"
"Okay…," he whispered, and Tony smiled. "But promise me you won't talk about it again. It's not fair, making me think about other guys."
"Oh, don't worry, dear," Tony chimed in confidently. "Soon I'll be the only one you can think of."
Steve laughed and captured his lips in a kiss. They started again, the excitement in the room building again very quickly and all unpleasant thoughts were swept away and discarded. Steve allowed himself to be pushed back into the mattress, enjoying the weight of Tony's body against his. He ran his palms over his back, their tongues waging a battle and what little clothing they were wearing ended up on the floor almost immediately.
Tony went down his body, lower, lower, lower still, leaving behind light bites and a few purple marks that would disappear before they both woke up in the morning. He slid the pillow under Steve's hips, nestled between his spread legs, and ran the tip of his tongue over the full length of his erection. At the same moment, he felt Tony's fingers coated with a generous dose of lubricant at his entrance. He exhaled heavily and closed his eyes, immediately relaxing.
"Start with one."
"Aye aye, Captain," he replied with a smile, and the next moment a moist heat swallowed Steve's erection. He bit his lip, took a deep breath, and grunted with satisfaction deep in his chest. Tony massaged him with his tongue, moving his head in slow, lingering motions, his slippery finger just teasing him at first before he dared to go any further.
Tony took his time and gradually worked his way up to a second and later a third finger. Steve shuddered beneath him. He was panting and the arousal was building low in his belly. When Tony's fingers brushed against his prostate, his vision went black and a loud moan escaped his lips.
"Mo-more," he whimpered, and at that moment he didn't care how desperate he sounded. Tony complied instantly. His lips closed tighter around his cock, his fingers applying regular pressure to that a small knot of nerves. Steve was at his wits end. His loud gasps filled the room, his legs trembled and he felt he was damn close.
He still managed to pat Tony on the shoulder. He always warned him to give Tony time to pull away, but this time he didn't and Steve cum in his mouth. He breathed heavily and just watched the ceiling for a moment before looking down curiously. Tony was grinning at him triumphantly, a white droplet glistening on his chin. Steve let his head fall back onto the pillow with a contented purr and a smile on his lips. He didn't have much time to breathe, Tony's fingers began to move inside him again. Steve cursed.
"Come on, Stevie, watch your mouth," Tony admonished him in a mock stern voice.
"You should watch yours and put it to use" he retorted immediately, grinning playfully.
Tony didn't need to be told twice. For now he avoided Steve’s oversensitive cock, for which Steve was grateful (even a super soldier needed a moment) and headed lower. He sucked his balls gently into his mouth and Steve swore again. Tony gave him a look, but there were a thousand devils in his eyes.
"Tony..." he whispered pleadingly, stroking his back with his foot. Tony understood instantly. He left one last mark on Steve's thigh and pulled away, wiping his fingers on the sheets. Steve reached for him and kissed him predatorily on the lips. Tony pulled his hair, kissing him back. Eagerly, he rubbed his crotch against him.
Steve rolled over onto his stomach, shoved a pillow underneath himself and looked over his shoulder. Tony surveyed him with hungry dark eyes, biting his lower lip.
"Fuck..." cursed Tony this time, pressing against his back. He kissed him again, it was a horrible angle, but neither of them paid attention. Oh, God, Steve’s mind flashed, and he wasn't sure if he'd accidentally said it out loud when Tony finally entered him. He relaxed and reached behind himself to stop Tony for a moment. Tony showered his neck and shoulders with kisses, holding his side and whispering to make sure he was okay. He was fine. Oh, holy moly, he was much more than okay. He moved back himself and Tony groaned in his ear, a shiver running through Steve’s body.
They matched the rhythm, Tony coming in slow and hard, but gradually picking up the pace. Their voices sounded throughout the room. Steve dropped to his elbows and buried his face in the pillow to steady himself. Tony leaned down with him, the reactor cooling his back, and muttered in his ear:
"No, no, don't do this to me. I want to hear you, Stevie, come on."
He fucked him harder, Steve yelped in pleasure and lifted his head instantly. He was no longer trying to hide, making it clear how much he was enjoying this. And Tony was the same way.
"Come on up," Tony urged at one point, pulling away. He rolled onto his back beside him and Steve didn't keep him waiting. He immediately gripped Tony’s hips with his knees and sat on top of him. He let Tony’s cock back into himself and enjoyed every inch. Tony held his hips and thighs, stroking his chest, never taking his eyes off him for a moment.
"You're beautiful," he got out breathlessly, "God, did I ever tell you that? Certainly not enough. You're so beautiful, Steve."
They were both close. Tony met every Steve’s thrust and his hand wandered down, squeezing Steve's cock in his palm. A few motions were all it took and Steve spilled onto Tony’s hand and his own stomach. Tony followed soon after.
They stayed still for a while, both just panting and looking into each other's eyes. Steve carefully rolled onto the bed next to him and closed his eyes. His ears were buzzing, the last twitches of a fading orgasm still running through his body. He felt Tony's lips on his, but he didn't respond.
"Steve," he heard him call, and felt his fingers in his hair. He finally returned the kiss lazily and blinked. Tony was grinning at him from ear to ear, his face covered in blush.
"Where'd you go?" He teased. Steve rolled his eyes, which only made Tony laugh harder. They remained lying still until they both calmed down. Tony went to get them water and Steve stretched lazily on the bed. He felt good. He felt great. He was smiling contentedly, swinging his leg and looking amusedly at Tony's white, untanned ass, which glowed directly out of the darkness of the room.
"I have to say," he said, accepting Tony's water bottle willingly, drinking it whole, "you excel at self-study."
Tony laughed again. He sat down next to him, took a sip, and winked at him lasciviously.
"I'm a genius, Steve. You're still so surprised."
Steve just grunted deep in his chest and closed his eyes, Tony immediately snuggled into his arms.
"Don't go to sleep," he whispered. Steve just grunted again. He wasn't sleeping, just resting. He rolled Tony closer to his body, kissed his sweaty hair and drew circles on his back with his thumb. Tony immediately stopped pouting and relaxed in his arms. Princess...
Tony cupped his cheek gently in his palm and when Steve opened his eyes, he was met with a warm look. Tony sighed, licked his lips and intertwined their legs firmly. Steve didn't comment. Since the day he'd been released from the hospital, Tony had been acting strangely at times. He did everything he could to keep Steve in his sight, looking at him as if he was going to suddenly collapse. He was looking after him, making sure he was okay. And for the first few days, he even came to him with this weird thing.
Stark medical scanner, it said.
It looked a bit like a pager, with an oblong display and a circular button on the right side that made a needle come out when it was pressed. Tony had supposedly used it once to detect toxicity in his own blood when his reactor still had a palladium core. All it took was a few adjustments to show the level of Amanda's toxin in Steve's blood for a change. He checked it several times a day until Steve sent him to the proper places with it. The toxicity was still the same, almost zero, it didn't change and Steve felt fine. He didn't see the point. Eventually, though, he promised to see Summers when he got back. That calmed Tony down at least a little and from then on his torture contraption lay at the bottom of the bag. Oh, thank God.
Steve quietly closed the door and tiptoed over to the desk on the other side of the room. Their suite was actually a small apartment with a bedroom, a large bathroom, and a living room (or sitting room as Tony called it). He sat down in an armchair and rested the starkpad on a miniature statue of Nefertiti that was standing on the table. From the screen, Natasha grinned at him, waiting for Steve to finally settle down. Her eyes roamed over him, certainly not missing the now vanishing teeth mark on his shoulder. She smiled even wider.
"It's two-thirty pm in Italy. Did you have such a wild night?"
"We go to bed late," he explained briefly, rubbing his sleep-blinded eyes. If he didn't have to, he wouldn't have gotten out of bed at all, but Natasha wasn't going to be deterred. He'd hung up on her four times, but she'd called again anyway. He figured it was something serious, but when he took the call, she was smiling at him like sunshine and obviously just wanted to talk. Tony wasn't awakened by her call, so Steve snuck out of the bedroom as quietly as he could. They had a good night, both of them. No restless dreams and Steve wanted Tony to get the best sleep he could.
"You got a nice tan," she remarked.
"You should see Tony," he chuckled. His skin was a few shades darker, of course, but he couldn’t compare to Tony who tanned easily and quickly. Steve even joked that he should start tanning without a swimsuit. His white ass always made him laugh.
They just talked and laughed for a while. Natasha told him about the stupid things Clint and Bruce had managed to do so far, and Steve in turn told her about their time in Italy. He'd withheld arguments, nightmares, panic attacks, and other unpleasant things. She didn't need to know about that.
"What's going on, Nat?" He finally smiled. "You don't call just to chat."
She nodded with a sigh and propped her head up, watching him impatiently. Steve knew their vacation was slowly coming to an end. Too bad, it had been a nice three weeks.
"So what's the deal?"
"Ruby started talking to us."
"I thought she'd completely shut down...?" he suggested cautiously.
"For a few days, yes. But that ended recently. She's started talking to Bruce a lot, he's bringing her presents," she chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief at that, then grew serious again. She looked into his eyes. Steve was unnerved.
"Steve, that mole in SHIELD was behind all this. Amanda was in charge of Ruby and Daniel so she could have her revenge, but she wasn't the head of it all. We still have one person on the loose."
Steve was silent. He watched her, rubbing the back of his neck, thinking. He closed his eyes with a sigh.
"Do we know anything about him?"
"Not much. It's weird, but even though Ruby has supposedly met him many times, she's not able to say a word about him. Don't ask me how that's possible. We're pulling it out of her, but it's slow going. It's like her memories are encrypted. It doesn't make much sense..."
"It doesn't," he agreed. Natasha smiled sympathetically.
"Old man, I know you've both had a rough time, and I'm sorry. If I didn't have to, I'd leave you alone, but honestly... neither of us know what to do. We need you here. And I'm afraid the longer we wait, the worse it's going to get in the end."
"It's okay, Nat. I'm glad you called."
"How's he doing?"
Steve glanced toward the closed door for a moment before looking up again, and he smiled, unhappily this time. Natasha sighed.
"Have you talked about it?"
"Um, a few times. It didn't go so well."
"He shouldn't hold it in."
"I know."
"I'm worried about him."
"We all are," he smiled and straightened in his chair. "I'll go talk to him and we'll fly back as soon as we can."
"Good. Hey, and tell me about that night-!"
Before she could say anything else, Steve ended the call. He shook his head in amusement. He sat for a few more minutes, watching the door and thinking. He hoped nothing more would happen, but apparently God was against him. Tony had been through hell and back and now they had to dive into it again. He sighed and went back.
Tony was no longer asleep, but he didn't get out of bed. He was hugging his pillow, hair disheveled in all directions and eyes still puffy from sleep. Steve lay back down beside him, wrapped his arms around him and pressed a kiss into his hair. He was quiet, just closing his eyes and enjoying his closeness.
"I'm surprised you got out of bed," Tony mumbled into his chest, Steve could hear the smile in his voice. "Most of the time it seems like a couple of oxen couldn't move you."
"I didn't mean to wake you up," he muttered back. Tony just hummed. They lay on without a word. Steve drew circles on his bare back with his thumb, watching the wall, wondering how to tell him. He sighed softly.
"Bad news?"
"Natasha wants us to come back," he said reluctantly, "Ruby's started to talk again. There was someone else who was responsible for all this."
Tony sat up slowly and rubbed his eyes. He sighed. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"Yeah. We'll go back, clean up this mess, and we can go back here again. Right?"
He smiled at him, but Steve wasn't buying it. He knew him, and he could see in him how much he was scared of coming back. It made his heart ache. But they had no choice.
"Okay," he agreed, already thinking about how they were going to do it. Who they would ask, where exactly they would search. The easiest thing to do would be to ask Amanda, but they hadn't had the opportunity to do that. They'd found her hanging in her cell three days after Tony and he’d left. When they got the call, Tony didn't say a word, just slammed his cell phone on the table and disappeared for half a day. To this day they haven't talked about it and Steve hasn't even tried to strike up a conversation.
Tony got up, got dressed and they both started packing. The vacation was over and more work awaited them. Steve just prayed that this time it wouldn't be as crazy as before.
It took almost two hours to get their plane ready. In all that time Tony didn't speak and neither did the next three hours in the air. He sat in the farthest seat with a starkpad in his hands and earbuds in his ears, working. Steve didn't disturb him, he read. He tried to pull him out of his shell before they left the ground, but when Tony brushed him off a few times, he stopped. Tony obviously wanted to be alone and Steve could respect that.
It was dark outside the windows and Steve was dozing on the sofa when Tony finally got up. Leaving his earbuds and work on the seat, he walked over and sat down, his feet on Steve's lap. He looked at Steve with a serious face, his arms folded across his chest, a muscle twitching in his clenched jaw.
"Promise me something," he said after a few minutes of silence. Steve just nodded and Tony took a deep breath, frowning.
"Promise me you'll be careful. Because I really can't lose you. Amanda almost took you from me and I- I couldn't handle it. You're one of the few people I really care about, Steve."
Steve was caught off guard by his honesty and was unable to say a word. He just stared at him in silence, a strange, pleasant feeling welling up in his chest. But Tony didn't seem to mind his silence and continued, still as serious, but in a quieter voice and with his eyes averted to the side. "I'm serious. I know what happened-that it wasn't your fault and you couldn't have prevented it... Hell, no one could have prevented it," he chuckled bitterly, "but just promise me you'll look out for yourself. Because I... I'll-"
He fell silent, frowning in frustration. Biting his bottom lip, he looked down at the carpeted floor and began tapping his fingers nervously on the reactor.
"I know."
"You know?" he wondered, immediately looking up at him. Steve nodded. Of course he knew. He'd have to be really blind not to figure it out. And he felt exactly the same way. Tony looked incredibly relieved. He sighed, stopped tapping the reactor, and folded his legs under him. When he spoke again, his voice was weak:
"I can't say it. Not yet."
"You don't have to," he assured him. Steve understood. He knew full well how bad Tony’s trust issues were and after what had happened with Amanda, he wouldn't be surprised if he didn't trust anyone. Honestly, at one point he expected Tony to pull away from him completely, but he didn't. He seemed more withdrawn than usual, but he still stayed. And Steve was grateful for that.
Tony smiled at him with a nod of understanding, and Steve returned the smile. He took his hand. "And I promise, but only if you promise me the same."
"I'm still careful!" He objected. "You're the one jumping out of a plane without a parachute."
"And you, on the other hand, are flying into a wormhole, ready to sacrifice yourself almost constantly," he grinned, unforgivingly. It earned him an annoyed look and a punch in the shoulder, but there was no real anger there.
"Okay, points for you. But fine, I promise too. Responsible and safe, like sex, right?" He waggled his eyebrows significantly at him, and Steve hoped he hadn't noticed how his ears flared. He hadn't noticed, or at least he hadn't made any comment. Fortunately. He wasn't usually embarrassed, but last night was still vivid in his mind, and whenever he remembered it, it sent a pleasant chill down his spine. He hadn't felt this good in a long time, and Tony's attention had gotten to him. And touched him. He smiled contentedly.
"There's a bed," Tony suddenly spoke up, and Steve looked at him uncomprehendingly. "And it's obvious to me that you haven't done this on a plane yet."
Steve's crotch twitched with excitement and Tony immediately pulled him to his feet and walked with him to the door at the back of the cabin. They didn't come out for the next hour.
They then lay relaxed side by side, Tony smoking a cigar and Steve leaning over the sketchbook and drawing. He liked to draw Tony, always finding a detail he had forgotten before, and with each successive attempt his drawings became more and more detailed.
He was shading the reactor at the moment, cigar smoke pleasantly stinging his nose, and turning over in his mind a thought that nagged him almost constantly. He propped his head up, tucked the pencil behind his ear, and gave Tony a thoughtful look. He didn't notice, his eyes were closed. The dark red satin sheet barely covered his groin, Steve could see his hips and dark brown hair clearly. He grinned, moved closer and slowly pressed a kiss to his stomach, aiming lower. Tony jerked, but his lips immediately curled into a smile. He didn't notice that Steve reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a black marker. By the time he started drawing just below his hip, though, he'd already noticed. He pushed himself up on his elbows. "Hey, what are you doing?"
"Don't move," Steve grumbled, holding him still while he carefully colored in each point of the star. Finally, he pulled away with a satisfied grin, a miniature of Captain America's shield weaving on Tony's skin. Tony snorted.
"You're possessive, Steve. Don't be possessive, I don't need your signature on me."
"I remember someone who did like ten hickeys on my body before we went into the company," he grinned at him, handing him a marker as Tony reached for it. He snorted again, mumbled something about safety precautions, and started writing on Steve’s shoulder.
Tony Stark's property, it said. This time Steve snorted.
"I'm not property."
"You're not," he assured him, pressing a kiss to his forehead and settling back on the bed, enjoying his cigar. Steve wiped his mouth and thought again.
"Tony?"
"Hmm?"
"After we clean up what's waiting for us at home... how about we go out to dinner?"
"And do we have to wait? We can go to dinner whenever-" He paused when it finally dawned on him. He sat up immediately, fixing a searching look on him. Steve smiled.
"Are you sure? You want to come out? Hey, I'm not pushing you anywhere! I mean... I'm not pushing, am I? Because if it looks like it, I'm sorry, but I'm really not! I told you I'm okay with keeping this under wraps."
"No, don't worry," he laughed, and he too sat up, ruffling his hair. "I want to come out with it. But not right away. Amanda has," he indicated with a vague hand between them, they still hadn't named their relationship in any way, so that gesture had to be enough, "used this against us. Against you. And the person we're still looking for may or may not know about it. I don't want to take any chances."
"So you want to wait until it's safe?"
Steve nodded. Tony seemed to think about it for a moment, but finally nodded, too.
"Okay, that sounds like a plan."
The smile didn't leave Steve’s face until they landed. The flight went on smoothly and they just enjoyed the last few quiet hours. When they landed, they'd have to get back to work, which neither of them wanted to do. But they had no choice.