Meta, I brought you something
Flash-fic for Meta, who needed some h/c. Feel better, bb!
Tony/Steve, around 800 words.
The Laundry List
“You're still sure this is a good idea.” Steve says. It's not a question; one of the first thing he understood about his role was to be self-assured and let Tony know that Steve was the one in control.
And he is. Tony is tied up on Steve's bed, with soft silk ropes, lying naked, spread-eagle on his stomach. There's a butt-plug buried in his ass, the fruit at least an hour's work on Steve's part.
“And you remember your safe word.” Steve continues, checking the ropes for chafing.
“Red.” Tony says. “Yellow for taking a break. Green for go ahead.” His voice is quiet and his eyes, though they track Steve around the room, are a bit blank, a bit unfocused. Tony isn't really here. It's Steve's job to change that and by God, he's going to.
He stands back and lets Tony look as he undresses. His clothes are a compromise; he was not going to do this in the Captain America uniform or some ridicules latex-outfit and his usual jeans and a t-shirt didn't seem appropriate either. So he's dressed all in black; black jeans, tight, black turtle-neck, understated, but doing the trick. Tony had approved at least; had given him the once-over when he'd come to Steve's bedroom, more than two hours ago. It feels like an eternity; time sort of disappeared once he got Tony naked on his bed, tied up and making so many more sounds than usual as Steve worked first his fingers and then increasingly larger toys into him, noises telling Steve that he was doing this right.
But these noises are all gone now and Tony has gone tense and quiet. He doesn't even react to Steve stripping out of his clothes.
Steve knows exactly what that's about and he won't have it. This is supposed to be about many things, important things, but the most important of them all is Tony having a good time.
Steve steps back next to Tony, runs his fingers up and down his spine, racking his nails slowly over his back, his neck.
“Give me the laundry list,” he quietly orders, right into Tony's ear. It's not quite his Captain America command voice, but it's definitely not his usual Steve voice either.
“...All of it?” Tony asks.
“All of it.” Steve says, keeping his nails running over Tony's naked back.
“Okay, um. I believe that if people are spending time with me and it isn't for that isn't for a professional reason, they're only hanging around me for my money or my fame.”
“Go on, Tony.”
“I have daddy issues, which everybody and their dog knows-” Steve pinches Tony's back at those words.
“Remember the rules, Tony. Repeat them for me, please.”
“Use your safe word. Do as Steve says. And sarcasm is not allowed in his bedroom.” It comes promptly from Tony and Steve smiles, knowing Tony can't see his face at the moment.
“Good boy. Now go on.”
“I don't believe I can fulfil the emotional needs of a long-term partner.”
“And?”
“I don't know if I can not fuck a real real relationship up.”
“Go on, Tony. You're doing fine.”
“I don't believe I'm eligible to be a superhero and that I'm a bad superhero, that I could never be half as good a you.”
“And?” Steve is sucking little bruises all over Tony's back now, starting with his neck, going slowly downwards. Tony's breath is getting more ragged, his words are losing their steady rhythm.
“I still feel weak and helpless about the whole cave thing.” Tony is speaking in a rush now, as if the floodgates have been opened. “I feel I can never make up for years I spent making and selling arms, but leaving it to fuck-ups like Hammer was maybe not the best solution either. Uh, and I'm getting old.”
Then Tony falls silent, his breath quick and shallow.
“And the one we're working on right now Tony? You're doing so well, you can do this too.”
“I... I can't let anyone in during sex, let the façade slip. I can't let anyone else take control. So, uh. I've never let anyone fuck me.”
“Very, very good, Tony, I'm so proud of you. What's your colour?”
“Green.” Tony says decisively.
“Then I'm going to continue now.” Steve says and starts wriggling the butt-plug again.
*