Warmer
Title: Warmer
Author: somehowunbroken
Beta: shinysylver
Fandom: Avengers
Characters: Tony/Steve
Word Count: 1,807
Rating: NC-17
Notes: Written for this prompt at capkink . I BLAME shinysylver FOR EVERYTHING, BUT IT'S ALL GOOD, I KIND OF LIKE IT IN THIS FANDOM.
Summary: Steve's been frozen for seventy years. It's understandable that he's a little chilly.
The thing is, Steve thinks, he’s been unfrozen for a week, and he’s seen Tony Stark flirt with at least fifteen different people.
Tony, it seems, will flirt with anyone and everyone, so really, it shouldn’t make something twist in Steve’s stomach when he turns that smile Steve’s way. Tony flirts like he breathes, easy and natural. Steve wonders if this is a future-thing or just a Tony-thing.
He’s got the feeling it’s the latter.
“So,” Tony says as he leans against Steve’s doorway, “how was your first week out of the ice?”
“Warm,” Steve says, unthinking. He can feel the blush heat his cheeks, but Tony just smiles more widely and leans a little farther into the room. His thumbs are hanging just inside the pockets of his pants, pulling the fabric tightly across his- Steve jerks his head up quickly, knowing his blush is deepening.
Tony is still smiling as he walks into Steve’s room and lets the door swing shut behind him. “You’ve been cold?”
Steve shrugs. It’s a phantom sort of cold, he knows; he runs his fingers over his skin almost absently. He doesn’t have goosebumps, and his skin is warm to the touch. He can’t help the way he suddenly wants to shiver. He supposes that seventy years on ice will do that to a guy.
“I can turn the heat up in here if you want,” Tony offers, lifting his hands out of his pockets and gesturing to a little box in the wall. It’s got buttons and numbers, and Steve has been told that it’s his thermostat, but he honestly hasn’t even tried to adjust it. Thermostats are small and round, as far as he knows, and this new kind is just one more weirdness for him to get used to. Tony crosses the room as Steve is thinking, and he’s got some sort of panel open on the thermostat before Steve can say anything.
“Oh, hey, no, I’m-” he says awkwardly, standing and walking the few feet from his bed to where Tony is standing. “I’m not actually cold,” he ventures. “I’ll be fine.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Tony says briskly, reaching into the panel with some sort of tiny screwdriver that Steve hadn’t seen him pull. “You’ve already got it turned up to the highest setting, and if you’re still cold…” Tony trails off, sticking the screwdriver into his mouth and reaching into the panel to twist a few wires together. He shuts the panel with a snap and jabs at the buttons, and Steve watches as the number on the display climbs. 92, it reads, and wow, that’s warm.
Steve shivers.
“Hey,” Tony says, reaching out to rub at Steve’s arm, and wow, they’re standing closer together than Steve had realized before. He takes a stumbling step back, but Tony follows step for step until Steve’s legs are against his bed. Tony’s hand is still on Steve’s arm, a brilliant streak of warmth against his skin. “You really are cold, huh?”
“It’s all in my head,” Steve says, not quite sure what Tony is doing, not quite sure why he isn’t protesting a little more. Tony leans a little farther in, pressing himself against Steve’s front, and Steve closes his eyes and rests his hands on Tony’s shoulders. The warmth from Tony’s body is seeping through Steve’s clothing, lighting his skin on fire.
Steve shifts, and oh, that’s embarrassing. He flushes a deep red and tries to pull back, but Tony’s got a hand on each bicep now, and he’s smiling up at Steve again.
“I can warm you up,” Tony murmurs, and then he’s sliding a hand up Steve’s arm into his hair and pulling his face down, and wow, Tony can kiss.
It’s nothing like kissing a dame, and it’s nothing like the few times he and Bucky had fooled around, either - Tony isn’t soft against him, for one, and he’s not awkward or hesitant about anything, either. His free hand continues to rub against Steve’s arm as his mouth works against Steve’s coaxing his lips open and deepening the kiss.
“Tony,” he mumbles as he pulls back a little, “what are you-”
“You’re from the forties, not the Dark Ages,” Tony says, amused. “I’m pretty sure you can figure it out, soldier.”
“But,” Steve tries, but Tony is leaning back in and kissing him again, and Steve thinks, kind of dizzily, okay. He slides a hand down to rest in the small of Tony’s back and pulls him in a little closer, and Tony hums against his lips.
“Nice,” he murmurs, pulling back and shoving at Steve’s chest. “Come on, sit down, will you? You’re giving me a crick in my neck, so damn tall, that’s just not necessary-” He’s moving as he talks, taking a step back from Steve, hands gripping at Steve’s shirt and pushing it up. He splays his hands over Steve’s stomach, and Steve moans as the warmth spreads through him, far more quickly than a simple touch should warrant.
Tony’s fingers move down to open Steve’s trousers, pulling the button free and the zipper down with an ease that confirms the reputation that Steve has heard about. He makes an appreciative sort of sound as he moves his hand lower to cup Steve through his briefs. “I had wondered if you’d be proportional,” he says, grinning up at Steve. “I’m glad that little theory is confirmed.”
“Oh,” Steve says, feeling his face heat. The warmth doesn’t stop as Tony tugs on Steve’s shoulders, clearly trying to get him to sit on the bed. Steve complies, putting himself on eye-level with Tony’s chest. Tony leans over and kisses him again and again, and really, Steve thinks he’ll never be cold again, not with the way the fire is racing through his body right now.
“Feeling better?” Tony asks, low, right in Steve’s ear. It’s almost like Tony can read his mind or something, but that’s not in his file, and Steve kind of doubts that SHIELD would neglect to mention that little fact. He chalks it up to the fact that he’s leaning into Tony’s touches, into his hands and his mouth. Probably not psychic, but probably very adept at picking up on the clues Steve is giving him. Tony lays a kiss on Steve’s neck, right below his ear, and Steve’s shiver this time has nothing to do with being cold. “It’s about to get awesome.”
“Pretty sure of yourself,” Steve manages to get out as Tony sinks to his knees between Steve’s thighs. Tony grins up at him, completely unrepentant.
“This is not my first rodeo,” he says dryly. “Or, to keep my metaphors straight, my first - what, battle? Skirmish? Engagement?”
“I think you can probably just call it what it is,” Steve suggests, hoping he isn’t blushing as badly as he’s pretty sure he is.
Tony smirks as he runs his thumb along the bulge in Steve’s briefs. “Not my first time with a dick in my mouth, then,” he says, and Steve is about to point out that he doesn’t actually, have anything in his mouth, but Tony leans down and pulls at Steve’s briefs and then, wow, wow, okay.
“Tony,” Steve breathes, wondering what’s okay to do with his hands. He settles for resting one on Tony’s shoulder and fisting the other in the sheets as Tony sets to work, and yeah, Steve totally believes him, this isn’t the first time Tony’s gone down on a guy.
Tony hums and Steve has to fight not to buck up into that sensation - he knows he’s kind of big, and he doesn’t really want to choke Tony, but that’s just fantastic. Tony does it again, and when Steve looks down, Tony is staring up through his eyelashes, one hand curled around Steve, the other resting lightly on Steve’s thigh. The sight makes something flutter in Steve’s stomach, and he leans back and sighs.
Tony doesn’t really mess around; he really does know what he’s doing, and it’s not too long before Steve is tapping on his shoulder in warning. “Tony, stop, I’m gonna,” he gets out, but Tony leans in a little more and swallows around him, and Steve closes his eyes and groans as his release rolls out of him.
He vaguely hears Tony moving, and when Steve opens his eyes Tony is wiping at his mouth. He gives Steve a crooked grin. “No offense, but swallowing isn’t really a first-date kind of trick, not even for you.”
“I wasn’t,” Steve starts to protest, but Tony’s grinning like everything Steve does is hilarious, and Steve rolls his eyes. “Here, come here, tit for tat.”
“You don’t have to,” Tony says, but he’s rising up onto his knees, and wow, if Steve had thought the fabric was tight across his crotch before, it’s nothing compared to what it looks like now. Steve reaches out and rubs at Tony through his pants, and Tony groans and thrusts his hips a little.
Steve is a little more awkward with Tony’s pants than Tony had been with Steve’s, but he gets them open without catching Tony in the zipper, so he counts it as a win overall. He hasn’t done this in a while - decades, his mind supplies, but even without that it hadn’t been for a bit - but guys all work the same, when you boil things down. Steve gets a hand around Tony and moves his hand experimentally, and Tony braces his hands against the side of the bed and lets his head fall down.
Steve keeps moving his hand, noting what makes Tony twitch and push forward. He likes it when Steve goes a little faster, when he twists his wrist a little at the end, when he flicks his thumb across the head. Steve’s a quick learner, always has been, and he works Tony through his own release.
It’s not even work to lift Tony up into the bed and pull him in close, tucking himself against Tony’s back and draping an arm across his waist. Tony makes a contented sort of sound and burrows back against Steve, one hand flailing around for the blankets. Steve pulls them up around both of them.
“Warmer?” Tony mumbles. Steve laughs against the back of his neck.
“Much warmer, thanks,” he says, glad that Tony isn’t trying to wriggle his way out, glad that he’s content to stay and doze for a while.
“Good,” Tony says, yawning and patting Steve’s hand where it lies against his stomach. “I’d hate to think I left you in all those clothes for no reason.”
It startles a laugh out of Steve. “What, you wouldn’t offer to warm me up again?”
Tony pats his hand again. “I’ll warm you up all you need,” he says, “but next time, we’re doing it naked.”
Author: somehowunbroken
Beta: shinysylver
Fandom: Avengers
Characters: Tony/Steve
Word Count: 1,807
Rating: NC-17
Notes: Written for this prompt at capkink . I BLAME shinysylver FOR EVERYTHING, BUT IT'S ALL GOOD, I KIND OF LIKE IT IN THIS FANDOM.
Summary: Steve's been frozen for seventy years. It's understandable that he's a little chilly.
The thing is, Steve thinks, he’s been unfrozen for a week, and he’s seen Tony Stark flirt with at least fifteen different people.
Tony, it seems, will flirt with anyone and everyone, so really, it shouldn’t make something twist in Steve’s stomach when he turns that smile Steve’s way. Tony flirts like he breathes, easy and natural. Steve wonders if this is a future-thing or just a Tony-thing.
He’s got the feeling it’s the latter.
“So,” Tony says as he leans against Steve’s doorway, “how was your first week out of the ice?”
“Warm,” Steve says, unthinking. He can feel the blush heat his cheeks, but Tony just smiles more widely and leans a little farther into the room. His thumbs are hanging just inside the pockets of his pants, pulling the fabric tightly across his- Steve jerks his head up quickly, knowing his blush is deepening.
Tony is still smiling as he walks into Steve’s room and lets the door swing shut behind him. “You’ve been cold?”
Steve shrugs. It’s a phantom sort of cold, he knows; he runs his fingers over his skin almost absently. He doesn’t have goosebumps, and his skin is warm to the touch. He can’t help the way he suddenly wants to shiver. He supposes that seventy years on ice will do that to a guy.
“I can turn the heat up in here if you want,” Tony offers, lifting his hands out of his pockets and gesturing to a little box in the wall. It’s got buttons and numbers, and Steve has been told that it’s his thermostat, but he honestly hasn’t even tried to adjust it. Thermostats are small and round, as far as he knows, and this new kind is just one more weirdness for him to get used to. Tony crosses the room as Steve is thinking, and he’s got some sort of panel open on the thermostat before Steve can say anything.
“Oh, hey, no, I’m-” he says awkwardly, standing and walking the few feet from his bed to where Tony is standing. “I’m not actually cold,” he ventures. “I’ll be fine.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Tony says briskly, reaching into the panel with some sort of tiny screwdriver that Steve hadn’t seen him pull. “You’ve already got it turned up to the highest setting, and if you’re still cold…” Tony trails off, sticking the screwdriver into his mouth and reaching into the panel to twist a few wires together. He shuts the panel with a snap and jabs at the buttons, and Steve watches as the number on the display climbs. 92, it reads, and wow, that’s warm.
Steve shivers.
“Hey,” Tony says, reaching out to rub at Steve’s arm, and wow, they’re standing closer together than Steve had realized before. He takes a stumbling step back, but Tony follows step for step until Steve’s legs are against his bed. Tony’s hand is still on Steve’s arm, a brilliant streak of warmth against his skin. “You really are cold, huh?”
“It’s all in my head,” Steve says, not quite sure what Tony is doing, not quite sure why he isn’t protesting a little more. Tony leans a little farther in, pressing himself against Steve’s front, and Steve closes his eyes and rests his hands on Tony’s shoulders. The warmth from Tony’s body is seeping through Steve’s clothing, lighting his skin on fire.
Steve shifts, and oh, that’s embarrassing. He flushes a deep red and tries to pull back, but Tony’s got a hand on each bicep now, and he’s smiling up at Steve again.
“I can warm you up,” Tony murmurs, and then he’s sliding a hand up Steve’s arm into his hair and pulling his face down, and wow, Tony can kiss.
It’s nothing like kissing a dame, and it’s nothing like the few times he and Bucky had fooled around, either - Tony isn’t soft against him, for one, and he’s not awkward or hesitant about anything, either. His free hand continues to rub against Steve’s arm as his mouth works against Steve’s coaxing his lips open and deepening the kiss.
“Tony,” he mumbles as he pulls back a little, “what are you-”
“You’re from the forties, not the Dark Ages,” Tony says, amused. “I’m pretty sure you can figure it out, soldier.”
“But,” Steve tries, but Tony is leaning back in and kissing him again, and Steve thinks, kind of dizzily, okay. He slides a hand down to rest in the small of Tony’s back and pulls him in a little closer, and Tony hums against his lips.
“Nice,” he murmurs, pulling back and shoving at Steve’s chest. “Come on, sit down, will you? You’re giving me a crick in my neck, so damn tall, that’s just not necessary-” He’s moving as he talks, taking a step back from Steve, hands gripping at Steve’s shirt and pushing it up. He splays his hands over Steve’s stomach, and Steve moans as the warmth spreads through him, far more quickly than a simple touch should warrant.
Tony’s fingers move down to open Steve’s trousers, pulling the button free and the zipper down with an ease that confirms the reputation that Steve has heard about. He makes an appreciative sort of sound as he moves his hand lower to cup Steve through his briefs. “I had wondered if you’d be proportional,” he says, grinning up at Steve. “I’m glad that little theory is confirmed.”
“Oh,” Steve says, feeling his face heat. The warmth doesn’t stop as Tony tugs on Steve’s shoulders, clearly trying to get him to sit on the bed. Steve complies, putting himself on eye-level with Tony’s chest. Tony leans over and kisses him again and again, and really, Steve thinks he’ll never be cold again, not with the way the fire is racing through his body right now.
“Feeling better?” Tony asks, low, right in Steve’s ear. It’s almost like Tony can read his mind or something, but that’s not in his file, and Steve kind of doubts that SHIELD would neglect to mention that little fact. He chalks it up to the fact that he’s leaning into Tony’s touches, into his hands and his mouth. Probably not psychic, but probably very adept at picking up on the clues Steve is giving him. Tony lays a kiss on Steve’s neck, right below his ear, and Steve’s shiver this time has nothing to do with being cold. “It’s about to get awesome.”
“Pretty sure of yourself,” Steve manages to get out as Tony sinks to his knees between Steve’s thighs. Tony grins up at him, completely unrepentant.
“This is not my first rodeo,” he says dryly. “Or, to keep my metaphors straight, my first - what, battle? Skirmish? Engagement?”
“I think you can probably just call it what it is,” Steve suggests, hoping he isn’t blushing as badly as he’s pretty sure he is.
Tony smirks as he runs his thumb along the bulge in Steve’s briefs. “Not my first time with a dick in my mouth, then,” he says, and Steve is about to point out that he doesn’t actually, have anything in his mouth, but Tony leans down and pulls at Steve’s briefs and then, wow, wow, okay.
“Tony,” Steve breathes, wondering what’s okay to do with his hands. He settles for resting one on Tony’s shoulder and fisting the other in the sheets as Tony sets to work, and yeah, Steve totally believes him, this isn’t the first time Tony’s gone down on a guy.
Tony hums and Steve has to fight not to buck up into that sensation - he knows he’s kind of big, and he doesn’t really want to choke Tony, but that’s just fantastic. Tony does it again, and when Steve looks down, Tony is staring up through his eyelashes, one hand curled around Steve, the other resting lightly on Steve’s thigh. The sight makes something flutter in Steve’s stomach, and he leans back and sighs.
Tony doesn’t really mess around; he really does know what he’s doing, and it’s not too long before Steve is tapping on his shoulder in warning. “Tony, stop, I’m gonna,” he gets out, but Tony leans in a little more and swallows around him, and Steve closes his eyes and groans as his release rolls out of him.
He vaguely hears Tony moving, and when Steve opens his eyes Tony is wiping at his mouth. He gives Steve a crooked grin. “No offense, but swallowing isn’t really a first-date kind of trick, not even for you.”
“I wasn’t,” Steve starts to protest, but Tony’s grinning like everything Steve does is hilarious, and Steve rolls his eyes. “Here, come here, tit for tat.”
“You don’t have to,” Tony says, but he’s rising up onto his knees, and wow, if Steve had thought the fabric was tight across his crotch before, it’s nothing compared to what it looks like now. Steve reaches out and rubs at Tony through his pants, and Tony groans and thrusts his hips a little.
Steve is a little more awkward with Tony’s pants than Tony had been with Steve’s, but he gets them open without catching Tony in the zipper, so he counts it as a win overall. He hasn’t done this in a while - decades, his mind supplies, but even without that it hadn’t been for a bit - but guys all work the same, when you boil things down. Steve gets a hand around Tony and moves his hand experimentally, and Tony braces his hands against the side of the bed and lets his head fall down.
Steve keeps moving his hand, noting what makes Tony twitch and push forward. He likes it when Steve goes a little faster, when he twists his wrist a little at the end, when he flicks his thumb across the head. Steve’s a quick learner, always has been, and he works Tony through his own release.
It’s not even work to lift Tony up into the bed and pull him in close, tucking himself against Tony’s back and draping an arm across his waist. Tony makes a contented sort of sound and burrows back against Steve, one hand flailing around for the blankets. Steve pulls them up around both of them.
“Warmer?” Tony mumbles. Steve laughs against the back of his neck.
“Much warmer, thanks,” he says, glad that Tony isn’t trying to wriggle his way out, glad that he’s content to stay and doze for a while.
“Good,” Tony says, yawning and patting Steve’s hand where it lies against his stomach. “I’d hate to think I left you in all those clothes for no reason.”
It startles a laugh out of Steve. “What, you wouldn’t offer to warm me up again?”
Tony pats his hand again. “I’ll warm you up all you need,” he says, “but next time, we’re doing it naked.”