“You’re sure?” The words are spoken in a warm puff of breath against Tony’s neck, followed by lazy, open-mouthed kisses, mimicking marks over the bonding mark that Tony’s worn for years now.
Tony giggles. Harbored in Steve’s arms, anchored down by Steve’s weight, he’s the safest thing in the world with his alpha, and he’s never felt surer. “Mhm.” His hum hitches into a moan as Steve crowds him deeper into the pile of pillows, a soft counterpoint to the heady pressure of the forming knot catching against his rim. “ ‘member when you asked me that after I proposed?”
“Ugh,” Steve says, because Tony loves dangling this memory over his head, and Tony knows he secretly loves it.
“Steve Rogers, love of my life, will you, ah—” Steve nips at their bonding mark just as he pushes into Tony again, then again, “—make me the actual luckiest m– mmm, oh- man in the world by marrying me?”
Steve may be relentless but so is Tony, reciting the memory from heart. It would be perfect if he’s not periodically interrupted by his own laughter and small, hitched moans.
“Are you sure, Tony?” He widens his eyes and deepens his voice a little to imitate Steve’s. “S’how you said it, looked so damn surprised, like I hadn’t literally, ah—” Steve pushes into him deep and then stays there, warm and solid, “—asked you where you wanted to get married just that week b’fore, oh my fucking god, Steve, please move—”
Steve’s gentle about it, but that doesn’t mean he’s merciful. He rocks down a little more firmly, until Tony starts to feel the stretch. Days into his heat, it doesn’t hurt: his slick makes it easier, and it helps that Steve ate him out, then fingerfucked him within an inch of his life during the preheat. Tony’s as open as he can be, and he’s willing, so, so willing, and yet Steve stops himself once more with a small groan, pressed tight against Tony, and asks again, “Are you sure?”
Maybe Steve wants real words. That’s fair, but Tony’s impatient, and he also needs to be fucked by his husband yesterday, so he hooks his leg more securely around Steve’s hip and gives him several words: “Yes, cupcake, I’m sure, now please, please fuck me, c’mon, I’ve been so fucking wet and I want you—”
“I am fucking you,” Steve growls, and to prove it, he withdraws as far back as he can without having to relinquish Tony from his arms. It turns out to be pretty far, because when he sinks back into Tony’s heat, it feels like Tony’s taking his cock for the first time all over again.
“Mmmh,” Tony keens, or something equally as unintelligible. Steve’s too big to not ever skate against his prostate, and while usually that’s a godsend, Tony needs to come now and he needs to come around that knot. “Yes, yes,” Tony praises freely, because he married the world’s most stubborn menace and if he gets into Steve’s brain that he’s not fucking Tony well enough, Steve will just fuck him for a couple more hours without knotting him to prove a point, “but I want– need—”
With a frustrated noise, he plants his other foot into the bed and rolls his hips up, gasping when it drives Steve deeper in but not deep enough. “Steve,” he resorts to whining.
“Need?” The rough edges to Steve’s voice is gone, schooled back into place by his steadier husk. Tony calls it his commander’s voice; it makes listening to comms during missions very difficult. “You need my knot, Tony, is that it?”
“Yeah,” Tony breathes. It’s not fair that Steve can still string together complete sentences, but at least his alpha’s finally getting it. “Yeah, need you to knot me, need it in me, come on.”
“Insatiable,” Steve huffs into his next thrust, no meanness in the word. Just fondness. And there’s a stir of delight in their bond, because Steve loves knowing he’s the one who’s reduced Tony to this.
“Only for you.” Tony tugs him up for a kiss, moaning into Steve’s soft lips. He thinks he can still taste himself there, and it’s sort of filthy but in the best way, and Tony’s harder than he thought possible. He doesn’t make a move to touch himself, though. His cock sits snug between his belly and Steve’s, twitching at the occasional delicious friction afforded by Steve’s thrusts and Tony’s squirming, but Tony isn’t worried about coming or not. Steve’s good, always so good to him, and usually Tony ends up frizzed from the oversensitivity of coming too much.
He just hangs on for the ride for now, since his legs are too jelly from being brought to orgasm twice by Steve’s tongue alone. But if Steve hasn’t knotted him in an hour or so, Tony will pin him down bodily and work that damn knot in his ass himself.
In an hour. Yeah. Later.
Steve thrusts again, another long, slow movement that drives Tony crazier than any (fantastic, out-of-this-world, would-always-be-recommended) rut-fueled sex, and Tony whimpers and goes lax under him. Definitely later.
“There,” Steve soothes, kissing satisfaction into Tony’s pliant mouth as he works on pulling out and then pushing his cock back in. “Just like that, Tony, that’s good.” He groans when the praise makes Tony’s toes curl and his channel tighten around his alpha. “Be patient for me. Don’t wanna hurt you.”
It’s not often Steve knots him, but during heats, it’s the only thing that makes Tony feel full enough – doesn’t mean that Tony ever properly gets used to the size of his knot. Much like Steve’s personality, it’s formidable, imposing, and capable of being a pleasant pain in Tony’s ass. (Tony says Steve’s personality and not Steve because Steve could have been very capable of being those things when he was a hundred-ten pounds soaking wet, before the serum made him a Big, Buff Alpha, thank you very much.) It’s a bigger challenge outside of heats, although they always make it work with enough lube and Steve’s legendary patience. But during heats? Tony swears he’s never felt pain. His alpha’s so good to him.
Steve grips his hips tight enough to bruise and works himself back up to a steady pace, until he’s fucking into Tony with thrusts that rock Tony back into their nest of pillows, eliciting a lewd, wet sound each time his hips slap into the back of Tony’s thighs. Tony feels himself clench again as his body produces another gush of slick, trickling out of his stretched rim while Steve’s pulling out. “Oh, fuck,” Tony breathes, sounding as ruined as he is, “d’you feel that?”
“Do I.” Steve’s voice is reverent, impossibly awed. One of his hands moves from Tony’s hip, slipping low behind Tony’s ass and rubbing where they’re joined. “Fuck, Tony.”
“Made for you, see.” Tony spent so many years of his life hating it, hating being omega and being abnormal for not being docile and submissive, but when he’s with the right person, with Steve, it feels like the most amazing thing in the world. Tony closes his eyes and sinks into the feeling of Steve claiming him in one of the basest, closest, most intimate of ways. “C-Can feel…all of you, I’m– oh—”
“Amazing,” Steve finishes for him, and for the first time since the heat started, Tony hears his control start to slip. He clenches around Steve again, makes himself almost as tight as he gets when he’s coming, and he’s rewarded by a guttural moan from his alpha and a stuttering thrust. “Perfect, you’re so perfect, Tony.”
“For you,” Tony corrects him again, panting as he scrabbles for a decent hold on Steve’s shoulders.
“No.” Steve’s vehemence surprises him. It shouldn’t be as hot as it is, but his next thrust is particularly hard, calculated, aimed to fuck the message into Tony: “You’re perfect. You’re perfect, and you’re mine, my god, how are you mine—” Steve moans into the hollow of his throat, and Tony feels him let go then, the steady precision of his thrusts dissolving into a barely restrained pace. He doesn’t draw all the way out of Tony anymore, instead rutting in short, quick thrusts aimed to work his cock deep, deeper, and eventually his knot, and YES, Tony’s hindbrain shouts in delight.
“Yours,” he agrees with his own broken moan, letting Steve’s weight nudge his leg open wider, making it easier for Steve to slam inside. “There was, ah, no one else, never, ever. I’m yours, Steve, I’m sure—”
His husband surges against him with a particularly vicious thrust, but Tony feels nothing but love, love, love as Steve finally shouts his orgasm. Steve’s knot slips in and it’s like a sigh of relief as Tony’s body stretches to accommodate it. There’s no pain, just a sense of rightness. Tony would have slugged anyone who ever suggested his place was on some alpha’s knot, but god, if it’s with Steve, his soulmate, for the rest of his life and forever after that, Tony is happy to belong.
“So good, Tony,” Steve manages against his neck, his words sounding choked up by sincerity, “look at you, always taking me so well.” He places kisses behind Tony’s ear, along his jaw, under his eyes, everywhere he can reach until Tony’s giggling again, high off the affection. “Mine. My husband.”
He’s locked in place now, his knot swelling as he fills Tony with his seed, and Tony lets himself float with the feeling. He’s barely aware of his own arousal still trapped between them, but he feels the possessive splay of Steve’s hand over his belly.
Tony wants to have a baby with him one day.
It’s just a thought. Not groundbreaking, not panic-inducing. Tony looks up at his husband’s bright blue eyes, and he thinks, One day. When they’re both ready to put the suits down, when they can trust the world in someone else’s hands. Tony used to think that would never happen, that he’d be fighting to repay his debts and protect everyone he’s ever hurt, inadvertently and otherwise, to his dying breath, but Steve has somehow taken him, guided his hand from self-flagellation and into holding Steve’s instead. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t still feel that way sometimes. But it says something that he can look at Steve, imagine a future where they’re together, happy, and at peace, and want it.
He hopes that his matching band on Steve’s finger means Steve might one day want the same.
“Steve?” he whispers against his husband’s temple. Tony breathes him in, his scent intertwined with Tony’s. In his arms, Steve shivers; Tony nuzzles him, holds him steady, anchors him in turn. “You really are the love of my life.”
And Steve looks at him. “Oh, Tony,” he says, voice raw, and then there’s a warm hand wrapping around Tony’s cock and bringing him to completion.
Steve kisses him through it, kisses more love into his cheeks and lips and hair. Tony trembles through his orgasm, and Steve holds him through it too. The overwhelmingness of it all threatens to lull him into sweet sleep, but he fights it, wanting to soak in every second of the moment. Steve must feel his fatigue though, because he smooths Tony’s hair back and kisses him one last time. It’s okay, Tony feels. I love you. I've got you.
Like a guitar string plucked, the words reverberate down the line of their bond, settling deep in Tony and wrapping him with contentment.
Knowing Steve will be there when he wakes up, Tony settles against his husband and sleeps.