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drag my little fingernails down your back

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Tony looks up from the gauntlet he was repairing. “Yeah, J?”

“It appears Captain Rogers has returned to the Tower.”

Tony jumps up as if electrocuted. “Fucking finally. He’s like a week late.”

“He appears to be waiting in the kitchen,” JARVIS tells him.

Tony steps into the elevator. “Thanks, J.”

“You are very welcome, sir.”

Tony taps his foot against the floor as the elevator slowly rises to the penthouse apartment of his tower. Finally, the doors open with a slick little click and Tony steps out.

“Steve?” he calls out into the empty space.

“Hey, baby doll,” Steve replies from somewhere in the distance. “I’m in the kitchen.”

Tony pads towards the kitchen, where Steve is sitting at the little breakfast nook, heartily eating a bowl of cereal.

“Looks like someone didn’t get three square meals while he was on his mission,” Tony says, amused.

Steve looks up like a deer caught in headlights, spoon still stuck between his teeth. Tony blinks, and the beard is still there, all dark gold and raspy and thick and thoroughly covering the lower half of his face.


“That’s new,” he comments, his voice going a little unsteady and high.

“Huh, oh.” Steve rubs a hand across his unshaven jaw. “Yeah, uh, no razors in Paraguay, unfortunately.” He looks at Tony a little hesitantly, a little insecure. “How does it look?”

“It looks good,” Tony says, his voice faint.

Steve’s eyes light up. “Oh, good. Great. You know, I couldn’t grow a beard before the serum.”


“Yeah, I guess whatever hormones and stuff I needed, I didn’t have ‘cause I was so sick. But after the serum, the hair comes really quickly and really well. Have to shave really well, every day, or I look like a mountain man or an evil pirate,” Steve jokes.

“And they didn’t have shaving kits in Paraguay, I’m guessing,” Tony says, casually

Steve chuckles. “Well, if they did, they weren’t givin’ one to me.” He runs his spoon in a circle through all that milk left in his bowl. “Do you want some cereal? Or I can make you something…” He moves to get up, but Tony plants his palms on Steve’s shoulders and pushes him down.

“Finish your food, Steve,” Tony says, sternly. “I can take care of myself.”

He sifts through the kitchen cabinets until he comes across a box of half-finished brown sugar cinnamon pop-tarts, pulling them out with a triumphant cry. He fishes one out of the box and bites right into it, without toasting it first, and grabs himself a glass of warm milk. He sits beside Steve, while the latter finishes off his cereal and grabs another bowl.

“So, how was the mission?” Tony asks, casually, trying but failing to keep his eyes off Steve’s beard.

“Good, good. The drug lords surrendered, really quickly, when they saw the shield, and especially when they saw Natasha,” Steve jokes.

Tony laughs. “Well, she is terrifying to most.”

“That she is.” Steve looks down at his second empty bowl of cereal. “I think I need one more.”

“You really didn’t eat properly at all while you were there, did you?” Tony says, worriedly.

Steve shrugs. “I mean, we were in a SHIELD safehouse, which meant SHIELD rations, and considering my metabolism and required caloric intake, it was never enough. But I managed. I mean, it’s not the most I’ve ever starved.”

“Still,” Tony says, softly. He leans forward, despite himself, and runs a hand down Steve’s cheeks, over the wiry hair bristling his jaw. “If I had it my way, you’d never starve again.”

Steve breaks out into a small smile. “Hold me, Tony. That was beautiful,” he teases.

“Oh, fuck off,” Tony mutters, kicking at Steve’s chair with a petulant look. “See how you like it when I run away for like a month.”

“I didn’t run away; I was on a mission,” Steve insists.

“To-ma-to, ta-mah-to,” Tony says, dismissively, the words tapering off when Steve runs a thumb over his beard, where the milk stains, and sucks it into his mouth. He swallows hard. “So, how did the electromagnetic panels work? Did they do good?”

“Caught my shield every time,” Steve reassures. “You know you don’t need to stress with my tech. I’m a simple fella.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I know. That’s why you wander around with a shield the size of a dinner plate that doesn’t cover your fucking legs.”

“Tony,” Steve groans.

This is an argument they’ve had a thousand times over. It’s not Tony’s fault that Steve refuses to see sense and accept stealth armour that’ll keep him safe in the field when Tony isn’t there.

Steve runs his hand over his beard. “So, what did you get up to while I was gone? Throw any wild parties?”

“Yeah, sure,” Tony says, dryly. “I had a couple of orgies; there are a bunch of naked people still sleeping in our bed.”

“Great; did you get their clothes dry-cleaned?”

Tony gives him the finger, making Steve laugh. He spoons a generous helping of his cereal and holds it out to him.

Tony scrunches up his face. “Like hell I’m gonna eat that sugary one-way ticket to hell.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “You get absolutely no carbs or sugar or protein in your life. Eat,” he says, sternly.

Tony rolls his eyes, but wraps his mouth around the spoon nonetheless, swallowing the bite. He makes a noise of disgust.

“Oh, come on, don’t be such a drama queen; it isn’t that bad.”

“It really, really is,” Tony coughs.

“It’s cornflakes, Tony,” Steve says, patiently.

Honey nut cornflakes,” Tony corrects. “And there’s too much honey.”

“Drama queen.”

Steve devolves into eating, moving to his fourth bowl of cereal very quickly, taking slow bites like he’s teasing the fuck out of Tony, especially with that beard on display.

“Tony? Tony?”

Tony blinks. “Sorry, what?”

Steve frowns. “I asked you if you finished up fixing your gauntlet.” His brow furrows. “Is everything okay, baby?”

“Everything’s fine,” Tony soothes, patting his hand. “And not quite yet. Doom really shorted the fuck out of it when we fought him. Have I told you how much I fucking hate magic?”

“All the time.”

“Well, I fucking hate magic. It makes fixing my armour twice as complicated if it’s been fucked with. Even with JARVIS, it’s still really annoying.”

“And you didn’t do anything else?”

“Not really. Went to a couple of board meetings, since I’m still CTO and Head of R&D. Bruce was here for a while; we did some sciencing together. Oh, Pepper and Rhodey came over for dinner. I made them the pasta they like, like my mum taught me. Honestly, that’s it. How’s Sam?”

“Good,” Steve nods. “Real good. Still getting used to the mission stuff, but I think he enjoys it. I think he missed it while he was in DC. He didn’t miss the orders or the COs, but the missions, the action, he definitely missed.”

“Well, he gets a second chance with you, so, that’s good.”

“Yeah, it definitely is.”

“No way you could convince him to move into the tower?” Tony brings up, casually.

Steve laughs. “No, I think he’s actually liking the fact that he can finish up a mission and then go straight home. I think it’s like a break from all the enhanced stuff. He won’t give it up.”

Tony shrugs. “Fair enough. Just let him know that there’s always going to be an apartment here for him, if he changes his mind.”

“Will do.” Steve flashes him big, blue puppy eyes. “You’re so generous, Tony,” he gushes.

Tony rolls his eyes. “Stop with your flattering, you Casanova. I’m still going to sleep with you tonight.”

“Well,” Steve preens. “If that’s what you want.”

Like a drunk haze that comes over him, Steve starts talking, but Tony can’t take his eyes off his beard. It’s just so scruffy and it makes Steve look like a lumberjack, especially with those arms of his, and all he can think about is Steve lifting him and fucking him against the wall.

Sue him, he’s been restricted to jerking himself off for the past month.

“Tony. Tony!”

Tony jolts. “Huh?”

Steve sighs, a little tense with frustration. “What’s with you? You’ve been spacing out on me this whole time.” He softens, reaching out for Tony’s hand and threading their fingers together. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

Tony nods, emphatically. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

Steve narrows his eyes. “I don’t believe you. Look, I know how you get when you’re in the middle of a tech binge-”

“Have I told you how proud I am that you can use the word ‘binge’ in a sentence and correctly?”

“-and this isn’t one of those times,” Steve finishes, sternly. “I know you, baby, and I know there’s something wrong, and it isn’t because you’re thinking about fixing your gauntlet. You’re keeping something from me. What’s going on with you?”

Tony runs a hand through his hair.

God, this is fucking embarrassing.

“Steve, honey, I’m sorry, but I can’t take my eyes off your beard.”

Steve touches his jaw, self-consciously. “My beard?” he asks, confused. “Is it that bad? I thought you said it looked nice.” His voice colours with hurt.

“No, no, I think it looks great. I also think we should go and have sex.”

Steve yelps, dropping his cereal spoon. “What?”

“I think we should go and have sex,” Tony says, patiently.

“But why?”

Tony shrugs. “Your beard is seriously turning me on.”

Steve’s eyes widen. “What?”

“Are you only going to speak in monosyllabic words?” Tony demands, crossing his arms over his chest, a little self-consciously.

“I don’t understand what’s going on here.” Steve shakes his head. “How can my beard turn you on?” he asks, a little sceptically.

“I don’t know!” Tony throws his hands up in the air. “Maybe I have a lumberjack fetish.”

Steve frowns. “I still don’t get it. Let’s start from the beginning.”

“Okay, after a month of being away, you came home from a mission with a beard, and you look fucking hot with the beard, like a sexy lumberjack, and I’m horny, and I want to have sex with you right now. Preferably up against the wall, if you don’t mind.”

“So…” Steve trails off. He runs his palm over his beard. “You like the beard, huh?”

A cocky smile plays along his mouth.

“Shut up,” Tony mutters.

Steve laughs. “Come on; it’s very sweet.” He reaches over and lifts Tony right out of his chair, who shrieks upon lift off, and drops him promptly in his lap. “I like that you like my beard,” he says, lowly.

Tony squirms. “Okay, stop. You’re taking advantage of the situation.”

“Excuse me? You’re the one who said we should have go and have sex because you’re turned on by my beard. You were the one who said that, Tony.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Fine. Yes, I said that.”

“And does that still hold true?”

Tony makes a face. “Yes,” he admits, grudgingly.

Steve clears his throat. “You said you wanted to do it up against the wall. Any wall in particular or…”

Tony makes a face. “I don’t think the kitchen’s the best place for this. It’s kind of unsanitary.”

Steve nods. “Agreed. So, bedroom, then?”

“Bedroom,” Tony agrees.

“Great.” Steve jumps to his feet, abandoning his cereal bowl and throwing Tony over his shoulders.

“Hey,” Tony shouts. “What are you doing?”

“You said you wanted a sexy lumberjack, right? Well, I’m stealing you,” Steve says, simply.

“I didn’t think lumberjacks stole people,” Tony muses.

“I don’t think it really matters right now.”

Tony pauses. “Fair point.”

“Good.” Steve cracks his hand across Tony’s arse, making him yelp.

“Hey! What was that for?”

“I don’t know; it seemed appropriate in the situation. Did you like it?” Steve asks, curiously.

Tony rubs his legs together, revelling in the hot, lovely rush of pleasure and tension from hit – it stung like hell, but it felt so fucking good.

“Yeah. Yeah, I did.”

“I’m going to fuck you stupid,” Steve says, casually, his voice reaching a rough timbre that makes Tony instantly hard.

He clears his throat. “I’m down with that, as long as you promise to get beard burn all over me.”

Steve chuckles. “Yeah, I think I can manage that, baby.”

When they reach their bedroom and shut their door (because the team has an irritating habit of barging in on them whenever it suits them), Steve drops Tony onto his feet and crowds him up against the wall.

Tony is very much aware of how much bigger Steve is, with his big deft hands and sparse, blonde chest hair and strong thighs.

The blood is hot in his face when Steve leans down to cover Tony’s mouth with his. Tony parts his mouth eagerly and melts into the touch, especially when Steve lifts him up like he weighs nothing, the ripple of muscle under his skin as he pulls Tony against the lines of his body like nothing he’s ever seen before.

“You said you wanted beard burn, right?” Steve rumbles.

Tony’s cock stirs and he nods, emphatically.

Steve descends to his knees, with all the grace of a feline. Tony watches as Steve unbuttons his jeans, pulling down the zipper with aching slowness, before rolling the denim and boxers down to his ankles and off his feet.

“Lose the shirt,” he orders.

Tony’s arousal thickens when the order settles in his bones, and pulls off the greased, worn cotton without a second thought, baring his chest and the scars left over from the arc reactor. Steve looks him over, appreciatively, and Tony feels a little like a butterfly tacked onto a display case, but in a good way, because Steve will always take care of him like he’s precious.

“Good boy.”

Tony arches his back, his cock twitching and running with pre-come.

Steve teasingly runs the scruff of his beard across Tony’s hipbone, making him shudder.

“What d’you want, honey?” he rasps, nuzzling in that soft, warm dip where Tony’s thigh meets his hipbone.

“I want…” Tony gasps when Steve licks up the length of his cock, rubbing his beard against the inside of his thighs.

“Come on, baby,” Steve urges.

“I want you inside me,” Tony moans, fisting in Steve’s hair. “I want you to fuck me. It’s all I’ve wanted since I saw you in the kitchen. Come on, Steve.”

Steve chuckles. “I thought you wanted beard burn?”

Tony grapples for his shoulders, his nails leaving impressions in his skin, and pulls him up to his feet. “I overestimated my ability to be patient,” he says, breathlessly, biting down on the tendon in Steve’s neck just to leave a faint mark behind. “Come on, Captain; don’t you want to fuck me?”

“Are you kidding me?” Steve mutters, spreading Tony out over his big, deft arms. “It’s all I’ve been thinking about since I left for Paraguay.”

“Oh?” Tony flutters his eyelashes, throwing his arms around Steve’s neck.

Steve nods, slipping his hand between their bodies and fisting Tony’s cock until he’s mewling and shaking. “The first night I was in Paraguay, I jerked off thinking about you.”

“Fucking hell,” Tony breathes, hitching himself up against the wall.

“And every night after that. All I could think about was seeing you again, bending you over the nearest flat surface and fucking you until you screamed my name.”

“That seems like a good plan.” Tony runs his thumbs over Steve’s cheekbones. “How do you want to execute it?”

Steve drops him gently onto the ground. “Turn around,” he orders.

Tony promptly does as he asks, his nerves singing in anticipation.

“Bend over a little. Spread your legs.”

“I feel like you’re going to give me a cavity search,” Tony complains and yelps when Steve’s hand cracks against his arse again. Tony shakes his arse out and arches his back even further. “Jesus Christ.”

Steve kisses the base of his spine before letting his beard scrape the inside of his thighs, just to get Tony to shudder and whine. “Actually, my name’s Steve, but I’ll take the compliment.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Cheesy much.”

A knot loosens in his chest when he hears the slick little pop of a lube bottle being opened, and he bites his lip raw. He moans loudly, nails digging into the wall, when the blunt tip of Steve’s finger works its way inside him, slowly and methodically. One becomes two and then three, with Steve lazily stroking up Tony’s cock, never enough to make him really hot for it, but it leaves him a writhing mess by the end of it, barely able to stand on his own two feet without the careful, measuring hand on the base of his spine.

Steve would never let him fall.

“Ready?” Steve checks in, once he’s rolled on a condom.

“Fuck me,” Tony urges, tilting his arse out at him.

Steve moves in closer, curling around him, his chest flush against his back, so that Tony can feel the press and beat of his heart against the notches in his spine.

There’s a rough, wet noise and Tony knows that he’s fisting himself, and he somehow loves and hates this position, bent over and facing the wall, so close yet so far, like he’s Steve’s toy and treasure at the same time.

Steve fucks him slowly, back and forth, like he’s dragging out every inch to make him suffer. His big, deft hand is on the back of his neck, his fingertips reaching into his hair, and it grounds him there, like this is all he’s ever wanted for himself.

He tightens around Steve’s cock, giving into that slow, easy build of pleasure and tension, thick and full and stretching right through to the tips of his fingers and toes. Steve changes his rhythm, fucking into him hard and fast, his hand leaving imprints on the curve of Tony’s hip.

“Shit, Steve!”

“Tony, oh, Tony,” Steve moans. “You feel so good. I love fucking you. God, I could die happy fucking you.”

Tony leans back and raps him on the hip. “Hurry up, babe. I’m so close.”

“Me too,” Steve grunts.

“Come inside me. Fill me up, lumberjack,” Tony gasps. “Shit, shit, shit.”

He feels so full, so stretched, covered in sweat, as if Steve had held him down for hours, just fucking him stupid and sated, winding him up to one hell of an orgasm. He falls into the dirty little grinds of his hips, as Steve takes him apart, snapping his hips forward with every thrust.

Steve winds a hand underneath Tony’s arched body, wrapping a hand around his cock and stroking until he’s coming hard and wet, tightening and clenching around Steve in waves, which in turn has Steve coming as well, the orgasm rattling through him at once. Steve slow down, fucking into Tony’s pliant body aimlessly for a few beautiful moments, before withdrawing. He disposes of the condom and manhandles Tony so that he’s carrying him with Tony’s arms and legs wrapped around him, all the way to their giant orgy bed, laying him out onto the sheets.

Tony whines when his damp, hot skin touches the sheets and curls into a ball, one hand reaching for Steve to join him. Steve chuckles and reaches for his lover, pulling him in close. Tony sighs, contented, and throws his leg over Steve’s hip, drawing small circles over the smattering of golden chest hair over the curve of his pectoral.

“So, is that a no on shaving the beard?”

“Oh, my God,” Tony groans, lifting his head, revealing lidded eyes, still dizzy with the orgasm. “I will kill you dead if you touch that beard, Rogers. I’m not even kidding.”

Steve laughs. “Duly noted.”