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How to Give the Best Blowjob He's Ever Had

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Steve’s big hands were warm on his thighs, his eyes on Tony’s dick.  He licked his lips, then said, hoarse, his voice husky and low enough to rumble in his chest, that low deep rumble that went straight to Tony’s cock, “You must have had a lot of practice, huh?”

Tony blinked, swallowed, had to struggle to think clearly for what he felt were understandable reasons.  Steve’s big thumbs were resting against the inner muscles of his thighs, rubbing warm circles into the bare skin, and he felt hot and prickly all over with the awareness of his gaze, as breathless and electric as if this was his first time all over again, ridiculous for someone as experienced as he was, and considering it wasn’t even his first time with Steve, but there you had it.  Steve just seemed to do this to him, get him as worked up and breathless as a teenager with a few gruff words or a side-long look.  “I—have had a great deal of practice,” he said, and gave Steve a glance up through his lashes.  “I assume you’re referring to activities of a sexual nature,” he said, letting his own voice go husky and deep and soft.  “Though, I mean, I have had a great deal of practice at other things.  Ping-pong, trigonometry, appearing in the tabloids, giving Nick Fury heartburn . . . .”

Steve gave a little rasp of a laugh and bent his head forward so that his eyes were hidden.  “Yeah,” he said, after a moment.  “Sex.  I meant.  You know.  You’re so good at—putting your mouth on—you always make it so good for a fella.”  A fella clearly being Steve in this context, Tony thought with undeniable fondness.  He was glad Steve was enjoying it—he’d put in a lot of effort to suck Steve off effectively, to make it good for him, and it was nice to think all that effort had pleased him, hadn’t been for nothing, even though Steve expected so little from sex he’d probably have been happy with Tony jerking him off night after night, so it didn’t say much, either.  Steve was tragically deprived in the department of sensuality, more than sexuality, if you wanted Tony’s take on it.  He’d had plenty of sex, as far as Tony could tell, he just didn’t expect much, and especially not slow touches and being lavished with attention, so of course that was what Tony had committed himself to most of all, whenever they were together.

“Well, thank you,” Tony said, and winked.  “I try, darling.  I try.”

Steve gulped, his strong throat working.  Tony reached out, let his fingers trail down Steve’s cleanshaven throat, over his neck, his Adam’s apple, his pulse.  Steve shuddered under him, his fair skin flushing as Tony touched him.  “That, that’s what I mean,” he said, and took a breath, clenched and unclenched his hands, then pet awkwardly at the sensitive skin on the inside of Tony’s thighs and had him shivering all over with the sensation, the simple vividness of that touch.  “That’s what I mean,” Steve muttered again.  “That’s—I know you do.  That’s why I—I mean, you worked at it, right?  Learning how to—to take it any way.”

Tony wasn’t sure if that was a euphemism for oral sex or if Steve meant it exactly how it had sounded, but he supposed that each was as accurate as the other.  “I’ve always thought practice made perfect,” he said, keeping it light.  “So, if that was a question, sweetheart, yes; I’ve done my best.  I take it you’re appreciating the results?”

Steve smiled up at Tony quickly, eyes bright and very flushed.  “Yessir, sure do,” he said, then dipped his head again, swallowed heavily.  “I mean,” he said.  “I do for me—you—you always make it so good for me, but if you learned how to do it, I mean.  I’d like to make it—make it good for you, too.”  He squared his shoulders and took a breath, raised his head again and met Tony’s eyes.  “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’d like to give you a blow, this time, mister,” he said.

Tony had had a feeling that might be what Steve was trying to lead up to, but it still hit him hard, sending warmth to coil in his stomach and leap in his cock at the same something seemed to catch in his chest, in his throat.  He swallowed, found himself moistening his bottom lip.  Steve had only gone down on him once before, and he hadn’t thought Steve had enjoyed the experience much, or at least, he’d ended up with his face covered in spunk and coughing and bright, miserably red, even though Tony had enjoyed the act itself from Steve very much.  Steve’s humiliated reaction less so.  “You know we don’t have to,” he said.  “There’s a myriad of options open to us, all of which I’ll enjoy very much, I assure you.”  He scooted down against the pillows a bit, opened his body language up consciously, let his ankles rest against Steve’s calves, running one teasingly up along it.  Naked under Steve’s still-clothed (in a t-shirt and exercise pants, at least) bulk, he knew he looked vulnerable despite his own strength and height, especially as he raised his arms, running them up over Steve’s biceps, along his shoulders.  “You can do whatever you’d like to me,” he murmured.

“Hell,” Steve muttered, then swallowed.  He leaned in, pressed a kiss to Tony’s shoulder that made him tremble with a strange heat and more tingling sensation, then to his jaw.  “What if I want to please you?” he asked, gruffly, still not meeting Tony’s eyes.

“I’d say you always please me, handsome,” Tony purred.  “I mean that.”  He did, too.  Steve was a—a gift, precious and incredible, awkward and strong and brave and noble and unutterably perfect.  He was a little clumsy in bed, at times, sure enough, more because of his own self-consciousness than anything, but he was also a quick learner, physically gifted, with enviable stamina, endurance, and a recovery time that would be the envy of any man.  He was also sweet, giving, with a soft shyness and a gentleness that had surprised Tony, when he was offered tenderness in return, respectful and so damn steady it took Tony’s breath away.  He slid his hands up to Steve’s neck, leaned up and pressed a kiss to his forehead.  “Whatever we do, I guarantee you I’ll enjoy it.”

“Well, if that’s true,” Steve said, his mouth a line of determination, “I want to blow you.  But you’ve gotta tell me how to do it right, how to please you, Stark.  All right?  That a deal?”

Tony had to smile at the way he had his jaw set like he was going into battle.  He brought the callused tips of his fingers down over Steve’s face, caressing his cheek, his jaw.  “All right, slugger,” he said.  “That’s a deal.  I’ll give you tips, if that’s what you want to do.  But trust me, you did perfectly fine the last time.”

Steve scoffed, ducked his head down, his face, his ears, his neck going red down under his shirt.  “I did not,” he said.  “I—I choked and—it—I made all kinds of a mess, and you had to kneel down and wipe my face, you sounded all—all worried—”  He sounded absolutely mortified just at the thought that Tony might have been worried about him.

“I was just worried that—” well, that he’d been horrified, and had been reconsidering this whole queer thing now that he’d had come up his nose, honestly, but Tony didn’t think it would be best to say that.  “Worried that you were a bit taken aback by the experience,” Tony said, finally.  “It’s not to everyone’s taste, you know, giving head.  I’m not quite sure what I expected the first time, but it definitely wasn’t that.”  He grinned up at Steve, ran his thumb, his fingers, along his jaw, over his chin.

Steve frowned.  “What did you expect?” he asked.

“God, it was years ago,” Tony said.  “For it to be a walk in the park, I’m sure.  I was an insufferably arrogant teenager.  The reality was quite different.  I ended up with come up my nose and a sore jaw.”  He winked at Steve.  “And look at me now, darling.”

“You definitely know what you’re doing,” Steve said, going even redder in the face, even as he turned his face in toward Tony’s caresses.  “It’s, um, it’s been.”  He was going redder and redder.  “I mean, you’re real swell at it.”

“Well, thank you, darling,” Tony said, and smiled at him. “I do try my best.  I appreciate the compliment.”

“So you can show me,” Steve said, then, sounding determined.  “Show me what to do to make it good.  Or—or tell me.  Tell me what to do.”

Tony took a deep breath, had to blow it out.  He felt dizzy, warm all over, lightheaded, just looking up into Steve’s face—Steve Rogers, braced over him, staring down at him with determination, asking Tony to direct him how to suck his cock properly.  He could never have imagined this, not in a million years.  It felt wilder than his wildest fantasies ever had.

“Just let me repeat,” he said.  “It was plenty good before, my dear.”

Steve’s jaw set.  “Better, then,” he said.

“I try to always shoot for improvement myself,” Tony said lightly, with a laugh that came out of him as a little giggle, almost hysterical, with how lightheaded and bubbly he felt.  He had to catch his breath, take a deep breath of air to fill his lungs and breath it back out.  “It’s an enviable attitude.  Not that I’d expect anything less from a national icon.”  He waggled his eyebrows at Steve, ran one hand down his arm, and leaned up to press a kiss to his neck.  Steve looked very red, and he ducked his head so Tony could feel the heat radiating off his red face along his own.  Tony kissed at his ear, curled his arms more firmly, tightly, around Steve’s shoulders for a moment before he sat back, pushed pillows up behind himself in the bed, and lay back.  “So, my darling,” he asked, running a finger down over Steve’s cheek, his chin, his throat.  Steve groaned, his eyes going half-lidded, licked his bottom lip, looking dizzy.  “Would you like to pleasure me?”

“Yessir,” Steve said gruffly, even as he tilted his head back for Tony’s finger, a beautifully, unselfconsciously giving gesture that made something hot and shivery go through Tony’s chest.  “I surely would.”

“Thank you,” Tony said, smiling up at him.  “I appreciate it, believe me.”  That got a little chuckle out of Steve, at least, and he stopped looking quite so grim, a little less like he was planning his next offensive in France.  Tony stroked his hands over Steve’s broad, sturdy shoulders, broad as a building, reveling in the strength in him and the way he shuddered at Tony’s lightest touch, even through his t-shirt.  He pet gently at Steve’s chest through his shirt, enjoying the hard firmness of him and the way he shuddered and gasped at his touch, eyes going wide and dilated.  “So the thing to start with,” Tony said, “is to find yourself a comfortable position, one where you have a good amount of leverage to work with.  You’d be surprised how much that helps one’s efforts in this area.  So—my bed is large,” a California king, of course, “but you’re a large, large man, so why don’t you—on your side, across my legs, all right?  So we have room to keep you comfortable.”

Steve nodded, eyes dark and cheeks flushed, and arranged himself in place, lying across Tony’s thighs, bracing himself on one arm.  His body felt very warm against Tony’s, radiating heat.  His eyes kept flicking down to Tony’s dick.  “Makes sense,” he muttered.  “Like this?”

Tony smiled at him, stroked his arm, reveling in the feel of the coarse hairs under his hand, the strong muscles and warm skin revealed by his short sleeves.  “Just like that,” he said.  “That’s just perfect.  Lovely.”  He smiled at Steve a little more, to show him that he didn’t just mean his position.  “Do you feel secure there, supported, like you have full range of motion?”

Steve flushed a little darker.  “Yessir,” he said, low.  His eyes flicked from Tony’s face to his lips to his chest to his dick again.

Tony smiled again, reached down and curled his hand around his dick, let himself revel in the pleasure of it, warm hand and friction and just a little burn from the dryness of his palm, arch up into it, letting himself go all wanton heat, all desire, his head dropping back and his eyes going heavy lidded.  He licked his lips and let his voice come out hoarse and scratchy, husking over his words.  “You like that?” he asked.  “Like what you see?”

“Hell, Tony, you know I do,” Steve said, going even redder.  He licked his bottom lip, swallowed hard.  “You’re—you’re a real looker, Stark, and that’s the truth.”

Tony felt himself laugh, delighted by the gruff, grudging way Steve had given him that compliment.  “Why thank you, darling,” he said.  “I could say the same about you, gorgeous.”

Steve, predictably, flushed even darker and ducked his head.  He reached up, rubbed the back of his neck.  “Well, uh, uh, thanks,” he mumbled.  “I—I mean.  That’s real good of you to say.”

“What, you think I don’t mean it?” Tony teased.  “You think I don’t find you handsome?  You’re gorgeous, sweetheart.”

“C’mon, Tony,” Steve said, sounding flustered.  “I’m—okay, I’m not bad—”

“Not bad, he says,” Tony scoffed, smiling at him, trying to keep it soft and light, show him how very attractive he did find Steve, in every way.  “You’re stunning, Steve.  Dazzling.  Magnificent.  My own prime cut of grade-A American beefcake, right here.”

Steve was very flushed, and he smiled, ruefully, sheepishly, shaking his head, and Tony just reached down, stroked his cheek, his jaw, cupped his hand against it, figuring that, well, though he was certain Steve had always been handsome, he hadn’t been born with the extravagant beauty of the body he had now, and maybe that made him feel awkward when Tony praised it.

“All right,” Tony said.  “So, it’s up to you how you want to do this, lovely, but I’d put my hand on the cock in question—mine, in this case.”  He winked and Steve huffed out a laugh, ducking his head and looking up at him through his eyelashes, smiling a little, and there, that was good, that was what he wanted.  He reached down, circling his hands over Steve’s massive shoulders.  “And you know, be careful to cover your teeth with your lips, right?”

“Right,” Steve said.  He licked his bottom lip.  His eyes looked very dilated, a little dazed.

“And then you can do whatever you like,” Tony said.  “But usually I’d start slow.  You know.  Play with the head—get my tongue in the game.  Flirt with the underside a bit.  Map things out, so to speak, until I’m comfortable with the cock in question.”  Steve was turning even redder, even hotter under his hands, breathing hard.  Tony moved his hand back up to caress his throat, his jaw.  “You don’t want to try to put me down your throat,” he said.  “Not yet.  Give that some time, you know.  Work up to it.”

Steve huffed out a breath.  “I’ll never—never know how you can just say things like that,” he muttered.

“I have a great deal of practice saying every ridiculous thing I can think of, darling,” Tony said, grinning at him.

“Well, I’ll give you that,” Steve said, with a little laugh.  “Guess I don’t need to be able to say it if I can do it, right, Stark?”

“That’s the spirit,” Tony agreed.  He always enjoyed the feel of Steve’s stubble over his smooth skin, barely visible it was so blond, but scratchy under his thumbs as he stroked them along the strong, square lines of his jaw.  His skin was so warm with his flush, especially as he gave Tony another look, his gaze lingering on his chest, before it flicked down to his cock again and he took a breath, licked his bottom lip.  He scooted forward a little more, reached forward with one big, broad hand and slid it up over Tony’s hip.  It felt so warm, he was so warm, that paradoxically it made Tony shiver under him, especially as Steve rubbed his thumb at the curve of his hip.  Tony felt himself let a breath out, sink back into the pillows, and Steve smiled up at him.

“Now that’s it,” he said.  “I want you to relax, too, Tony.”

Whenever he said Tony instead of Stark it still sent a little thrill through Tony, coiled tight and warm in his chest and belly, made his skin tingle, prickling.  He caught his breath despite himself, realized he had his mouth open, his tongue against his bottom lip.  Steve looked up at him and smiled, and then he leaned up quickly, pressed a kiss against Tony’s mouth.  His lips were soft and dry, his breath hot and wet and panting, and Tony moaned against it, closed his eyes and let himself arch up into it.

Steve stroked a hand through his hair as he pulled away, slid his hand down Tony’s chest, thumbing gently at his nipple, and Tony shuddered under him, opened his eyes to half-lidded slits because that was about all he felt capable of just then, he felt so dizzy and warm with sensation.  “I want to make you feel good,” Steve said.

“Oh, you are,” Tony said fervently.

Steve smiled at him.  “Yeah?” he said.  “Well, I hope I can keep that going.”  He slid his big, warm palm down over Tony’s belly, and Tony felt warm all over.  “You say I’m awful responsive,” he said, and then blushed again, licked his bottom lip and ducked his head down, “and I know that’s true.  But hell, Tony, the way you react when I touch you—”

“You like that?” Tony murmured, and it came out breathless, gasping despite himself, but he was supposed that was good, if Steve wanted to see his effect on him, if that was doing it for him.  “You like how I respond to you, big guy?”

“I like to know that I’m pleasing you,” Steve said, meeting his eyes, all honesty, pure sincerity, and Tony was really breathless now.  “You always make me feel so damn good.  I’d like to return the favor.”

“You always make me feel good,” Tony murmured, because it was true, though he knew what Steve meant.  Sometimes what you wanted was to lavish your partner with attention, concentrate on them, their reactions, rather than on yourself, and the satisfaction of pleasing them was more than enough.

Steve frowned at him and shook his head, leaned down and pressed a kiss to Tony’s shoulder, then his hip, then curled his hand warmly over Tony’s hip again and leaned in.  Tony watched him take a shuddering breath, felt it feather hot and damp over his groin, down over his cock, watched Steve swallow, and then lean in again.  He reached out, curled one hand around Tony’s cock.

His hand was big and warm and covered more than half Tony’s cock, and Tony bit his lip, let himself moan, moan and let his head tip back against the pillows.  Steve rubbed his thumb along the underside of his shaft, and Tony shivered.  His own breath sounded loud in his ears.  After a moment, when not much else happened, he lifted his head again.  Steve looked like he was concentrating, a wrinkle between his brows, his forehead creased.  Tony propped himself on the bed, reached down and ran his fingers over that crease on Steve’s brow, back up into his hair.

“There’s no pressure, my dear,” Tony murmured.  “I’ll like it however you do it, I promise.  I’m easy.”

Steve huffed through his nose.  “You are,” he muttered.  “You like whatever I do.  No matter how clumsy I am or—or inadequate, and then you turn around and act like you gotta be perfect for me every time.”

Tony frowned.  “Well, I do like whatever you do,” he said.  “And you’re never inadequate.  You’re wonderful, all right?”  He was lucky to have Steve.

Steve smiled and ducked his head down, kissed Tony’s thigh.  “All right, fella,” he said.  “If you say so.  You gotta tell me how to improve though, okay?  I want you to.”

“All right,” Tony said.  “But I promise, this is going to blow my mind.”

“I sure want it to,” Steve muttered, almost breathed, then smoothed his hand up over Tony’s thigh, stroked along it, and then over his hip, before he leaned in.  There was a moment of his warm breath gusting damp over the head of Tony’s cock, and then Steve closed his eyes and leaned in, opened his mouth a good few seconds before he got it around the tip of Tony’s cock.

His mouth felt soft and wet and hot, so damn hot, around Tony’s cockhead, and he let the moan that built in his chest escape him, let his hands slide down and clutch at Steve’s hair the way he wanted, to steady himself.  Steve gave a little mming sound, as if of pleasure, and the vibration around Tony had him gasping for breath, panting.  He could feel his chest heaving, and Steve ran his palm up and down over his hip, as if gentling him.  His hand was so warm.  Tony just—it just felt so good.  He could feel his heart pounding.  And then Steve ran his tongue over him, hot and wet and perfect, and Tony was afraid the sound he made was entirely pathetic.

“That’s it,” he groaned, “oh, that’s it, that’s perfect, sweetheart, God, Steve, that’s so good; that’s just exactly right.”  Steve licked him again, and he whimpered; there was no denying that had been a whimper.

Steve pulled back, off his cock, slid his thumb up, right under his cockhead, just at the spot he was most sensitive, rubbed there in a slow circle, and Tony felt himself go hot all over, felt his hips jerk up helplessly, abruptly, toward Steve’s mouth.  Steve licked his bottom lip, looked up at Tony.  “That’s good?” he murmured.  “Yeah?  You’re liking that?”

“Oh, God, Steve, darling,” Tony panted.  “Liking isn’t the word; it’s,” he couldn’t get a breath, “it’s so good; it’s so good, cupcake.”

Steve’s mouth looked wet, wet and pink already, shiny with saliva.  He smiled, a sweet little quirk of one side of his mouth that made Tony’s belly clench, his chest feel tight, and then he was leaning in again, opening his mouth and licking gently at the tip of Tony’s cock.  His tongue was big and wet and warm and almost as dexterous, as controlled, as the rest of him, and the feel of it as he laved it over the tip of Tony’s cock, ran it down first one side, then the other, had Tony whining in his throat.  He could feel sweat rising on his forehead, his neck, under his arms.  He squirmed under Steve, trying not to thrust rudely up into his mouth.

“That’s it, that’s just perfect,” he managed to assure him, panting.  “That’s wonderful.  Just keep that up, with—with your tongue for a while, yeah.”

Steve gave a little hum and pushed his cock up with his hand, laving his tongue down the shaft until it met his fingers, then dragging it back up.  Oh, oh, that was good.  Pleasure shivered through Tony, building irresistibly.  Steve’s tongue was warm, so warm and so perfect, and his grip was firm and certain.  Tony heard himself moan again, felt it in his chest, as Steve dragged his tongue up over Tony’s cockhead, swirled it around, licked up and down each side.  He was definitely taking Tony’s advice, listening to him, obediently stroking his tongue up and down each side of Tony’s cock, over the head, let it get wet and messy, licking eagerly at his tip.

“Oh,” Tony heard himself moan.  “Oh, oh, Steve, Steve, honey, you’re gorgeous, that’s gorgeous, you’re so good.”

Steve pulled off again, just a bit.  “You like that?” he said again.  He sounded breathless.

“Oh, God, so much,” Tony panted, and he saw Steve’s quick smile before he stroked his tongue over Tony’s cock again, the head of it, then the shaft.  They were soft little licks, then firmer, stronger, longer strokes of his tongue, then back again to soft and gentle, careful over his tip.  “So good,” Tony managed to moan.  His hands were sweating, mussing Steve’s hair, making it fuzz up around his face as he clutched at him.  “You, you can, you can, oh—oh.”  He panted, swallowed, tried to clear his head just a little, just enough to think, to talk.  “You can, uh, if you slide your tongue in against the, the slit, you know?  That’s always nice.  If you—if you want.”

Steve gave a little humming noise of acknowledgment, tugged gently at Tony’s cock with his hand, stroking as he sucked on his tip, wet and messy, slid his tongue over the head again, letting his tongue go sloppy and wet and warm before he sucked again, then slid his tongue up against the slit, just like Tony had suggested.  And oh, God, that felt so good, the way he lapped at him, fucked at him gently with his tongue, then slid his tongue up over the top, once, twice, then swirled it around, lapped at the underside, playing his tongue right where Tony was most sensitive, until Tony was really whimpering, thighs flexing helplessly as he tossed his head back against the pillows.

“I like it when you sound like that,” Steve murmured, lips against the soft skin of Tony’s cock, and Tony shuddered, felt himself trembling in his thighs, down to his toes.  “When you let me hear you.”

“Oh, Steve, darling,” Tony whispered.  His face, the back of his neck felt hot.  His skin felt tight all over his body.  “My God.  This is—this is good.  You’re doing—doing really well.  Doing beautifully, sweetheart.”

“You’re awful flattering,” Steve said, with a quick smile, and bent his head to Tony’s cock again.  This time he slid his hand down to Tony’s balls, tugged on them gently then closed his hand over them, rolling them under his palm.  His fingers curled under them, stroked over Tony’s perineum, up against his balls, even as Steve tongued at Tony’s slit again, and Tony’s brain just—stuttered to a stop for a moment, pleasure sweeping over him.  Steve’s other hand was so warm on his hip, warm and broad and steadying, and something inside of Tony was unwinding, going loose and soft and easy, his control eroding until he couldn’t help the little jerky movements of his hips, the way they wanted to move.  Steve made a pleased noise and started rocking with the movements, rocking his head back, like he’d been doing it for years.  See, Tony thought, he’d known Steve would be good at this—he was so coordinated, so graceful, of course he was good at it—and then Steve sucked on him again, this time taking more of his cock into his mouth, and his thoughts went scattering away again.  He felt very, very warm, hot all over, and dizzy, his head light and fizzy and bright with pleasure.  Everything felt so good; everything felt amazing.  He found himself melting back into the pillows, lolling against them, legs spread, head sinking soft into the pillows as he slid down against Steve’s mouth, sinking even further into the bed.  Steve hummed a little, again, and his other hand slid warmly over Tony’s hip, his thigh. Tony shuddered deliciously, all over, moaned, lifted his hips for Steve’s mouth, and Steve slid his tongue down his cock obligingly.  God, he felt good.

So he told Steve as much.  He let his mouth ramble, brain barely engaged, something he’d always had a talent for, and honestly, in his opinion, telling Steve how gorgeous and how perfect he was was probably the best use he’d ever put it to.  He let one hand slide down to Steve’s shoulder, bracing himself against his broad, impossibly sturdy strength, and said, “Oh, God, so good, Steve, you’re so good at that.  Just look at you, you’re so good at that.  Perfect mouth, perfect tongue, you feel so good on me, hot mouth, you’re so good with your tongue, getting all wet and sloppy, huh?  That’s good, sloppy’s so good.  Feels so nice, so nice and wet.  So hot.  Not afraid to get wet and messy, are you?  That’s perfect.  Yeah, yeah, kiss it.”  Steve was ducking his head, kissing at the head, swirling his tongue around it and then going back to sucking softly, kissing against it, tongue against the underside, catching it between his lips, even as Tony groaned and rocked his hips forward, sliding his cockhead back and forth, in and out between Steve’s soft lips and hot tongue.  “See?  See, you have the instincts for this, big guy.  I knew you did.  I knew you’d do great.  Knew you’d do wonderfully, be wonderful.”

Steve moaned, opened his mouth wider and took Tony deeper into his mouth, made out with his cockhead a little more, let it fill up his mouth, his frankly unfairly long lashes fluttering over his eyes, his face very flushed and his mouth wet and swollen as he let Tony fill up his mouth.

“God, good boy,” Tony breathed, moaned, lifting his hips for Steve again, and Steve’s hand slid down, curved around his ass, squeezing, pulling him in.  His hand was so warm, and that was so hot, Steve manhandling him gently, all his strength turned to pulling Tony close almost needily, like he wanted him further in his mouth.  Letting Steve angle him how he wanted him was somehow incredibly hot, and Tony heard himself groan as pleasure went through him at Steve pulled back over his cock, then pushed forward again, letting Tony’s length slide forward into him again.  Watching his own cock slide between those soft, wet lips was incredibly hot, the way Steve’s eyes were half-lidded but he still looked incredibly focused, like he was thinking only about how to make this good for Tony.  Steve was flushed all over, though, and his chest was heaving, which usually meant he was turned on himself, and he was huffing through his nose hot and heavy.  “You’re a natural.  Are you liking this?  Like getting your mouth on my cock?  You’ve been wanting that, huh?  Is this getting you hard, big fella?  It going to your cock?  Sucking my dick for me?”

Steve moaned again, even deeper, low in his chest, in his throat, vibrating around Tony’s cock, and his eyes fluttered closed, just for a moment, and he sucked harder, messily, on Tony’s tip.  Tony found himself sliding his hand through Steve’s hair, stroking it off his forehead, making a mess of it, and felt Steve shuddering against him.  Steve moaned again, voice breaking huskily, a low scratchy rumble.  It felt so good around his cock.

“Oh, yeah,” Tony said, breathlessly.  “You are, huh?  You’re getting so hard from this.”  He blinked through the haziness of the pleasure, the starry dazzle of pleasure over his eyes, and glanced down toward Steve’s dick, where he was sprawled out over the bed, saw the impressive erection tenting his soft workout pants.  “Look at you, huh?  So damn big, slugger, filling up your pants up so well, straining at the seams.  That’s all for me, just from sucking my cock.  Look at that.  So big, so needy, so hard.  So hard, aren’t you?  You could pound nails with that thing, just from sucking me off.  From sucking my cock.  You like it, don’t you?  Like sucking my cock like this.”  Steve moaned through his nose, panting, and his eyes slid closed.  He let go of Tony’s cock, just long enough to slide his hand down and palm his own dick.  Steve’s big hand made his bigger cock look even more obscenely gigantic as he cupped it, shaped it through the soft fabric, made the rigid length of it even more obvious against it.  “Oh, yeah,” Tony murmured, his voice going soft and gentle, somehow, as he gripped Steve’s hair, rocked his cock gently between his lips, into his mouth, watching as Steve’s saliva spilled over, trailed down one side of his jaw, as he drooled messily around him, his eyes closed as if in bliss.  “You do love that, look at you.  You feeling good, handsome?”

Steve nodded, mouth still on his cock, and his lashes fluttered.  He gripped his cock, groaned, pushing his hips up into his hand, and damn but that was hot, the sight of it so obscenely, ridiculously hot Tony’s brain almost went offline just at that.  Steve Rogers, Captain America, blatantly getting off on sucking Tony’s cock, lips wrapped around him, even as his t-shirt clung to his abs and shoulders and he pushed his giant cock into his own hand through his pants.  The other was clinging warm and steadying to Tony’s asscheek, still, Steve’s fingers pressed almost painfully tight into the curved muscle of it, and that in itself was hot enough to make Tony’s cock throb all on its own, the fact that Steve was holding Tony to his mouth so tightly, so desperately.  Like Tony would have pulled away voluntarily from that hot, wet, softly open, giving mouth, God.

“Good,” Tony breathed.  “Want you to feel good.  Want you to feel good sucking my cock.”  He found himself caressing the side of Steve’s face, rubbing his fingers into the hinge of Steve’s jaw, up over his cheek.  Steve shivered at the touch, gulped, turned his face toward Tony’s hand, pressing in against it without moving off his cock, his eyes just fluttering open slightly.  Tony let his hand slide over, let his thumb rub Steve’s lower lip, feeling it wet and swollen, stretched around his cock, and it was Steve’s turn to moan, to press his face closer into Tony’s hold, even as he lapped at Tony’s cock lightly with his tongue, dragged it over the tip of him.  Tony moaned at the wet, soft pleasure that tingled through him, lifted his hips into it, and Steve smiled, let him push further into his mouth, then bobbed his head, pulling back and then taking Tony in shallowly in again.  “Oh,” Tony gasped, rubbed at Steve’s bottom lip, pushing his thumb in against it convulsively.  “Oh, that’s good.  You’ve got it, darling, that’s it.”

Steve pulled off, smiled up at him, eyes hazy, and just the sight of that, his face red, mouth messy and wet and swollen, his eyelashes low and heavy over his eyes, had Tony’s cock throbbing.  “Yeah?” he said, and God, his voice was already low, but that was nothing but a hoarse rasp, as if he too felt overcome, and it went straight to Tony’s belly and twisted up with heat, throbbed in his dick.  “Good,” Steve said, then, and then pushed Tony’s cock up with his hand, pressed a kiss against the inside of one thigh, then the other, against his balls.  Tony heard himself gave a high-pitched whimper and covered his mouth with one hand, pressed his open mouth against the back of it.  Steve smiled at that, and then dragged his tongue up along the underside, a long, dragging, perfect wash of heat, closed his mouth over the tip and sucked, bobbing his head up and down—not enough to hit the back of his throat, but enough to give Tony the feeling of fucking and oh, oh, God.  He found himself pushing his feet into the bed, lifting his hips, and Steve gave a pleased sounding noise and bobbed his head over him again.  He moved his hand away, rested it warm and impossibly broad over Tony’s thigh, started stroking the inside of it with his thumb, and something about the—the tenderness in that had Tony’s chest tight, had his eyes stinging, stupidly, all out of nowhere, his breath coming unevenly.  He closed his eyes, took a few ragged breaths.

“Yeah,” he finally managed, in a hoarse rasp, himself, urged himself to talk more, the words just spilling out of him, rambling.  “So, so good, baby.  So—so good.  That’s just exactly it.  You’re doing beautifully, trust me.  Can’t believe you’re here, sucking me so perfectly.  Can’t believe this is real—oh!”  Steve had swirled his tongue over that spot under Tony’s cockhead again, sucked at him perfectly, and Tony felt it go through him in a sharp quiver of pleasure.

Steve pulled off, lapped gently at the head, licking at it, around it, tongue so warm and wet over the sensitive flesh, and then muttered, hoarsely, “It’s real, Stark.  I’m here.  Believe it.”

Tony heard himself moan, and then Steve’s mouth was back on his cock, sucking and hot as he moved up and down, bobbing gently, never taking Tony in far enough to flirt with the back of his throat, but still an intoxicating, dizzying pleasure in the perfect, seductive motions, the warm wet heat of him.

“Oh,” Tony groaned.  “Steve, tiger, that’s incredible.”  He found himself stroking Steve’s face, along his jaw.  “May I come in your mouth?  I’d love to, fill you up, feel that heat around me as I finish, or on your face, your amazing body—cover that chest with my come, you’d look incredible, a Tom of Finland Jackson Pollock—”

Steve pulled off again, panting breaths shivering along Tony’s wet cock, a sharp contrast to the overheated wetness of the tender, sensitive skin.  “You can come wherever you want,” he mumbled.  “Mouth’s good.”

“Oh, thank you, darling,” Tony murmured.  “You don’t have to if you’d rather not.  Don’t feel badly if you don’t want to swallow.”

“Mmm,” Steve said.  He was laving his tongue up and down the underside of Tony’s cock again, and it was so hot and so perfect that Tony found his eyes closing, his head tipping back, moaning helplessly.  “You always swallow for me.”

Tony dragged in a breath, tried to remember how to breathe.  “Whole different story,” he managed, took another breath.  “Yours isn’t the first cock I’ve gagged on, sweetheart,” he said, letting his tongue drag over the words.  “I’m a full service throatfuck.”  Steve’s brows drew together, and he flushed a very deep color of red.  “I have a reputation as the best cocksucker in New York State,” Tony added.  “I’ve had plenty of time to pick up little tricks here and there.  ‘Course I put on all the bells and whistles.”  He winked down at him, smiled.  “It’s you.”

Steve pulled off again, kissed the tip of his cock with what felt to Tony like incredible fondness, considering, slid his big warm hand up along his dick, stroking, in a way that had Tony trembling, moaning again despite himself.  “More than just New York State, from what I heard,” he said, and that fondness was still in his voice, somehow.  His hand slid down, rubbed at Tony’s balls, pushed back behind them until Tony was groaning as he rocked his fingers, then his knuckles, gently back into his perineum.  “So what, you’re putting on the Ritz for me and you think I won’t want to do the same for you?”

Tony felt himself go suddenly, improbably hot in the face and wondered if he was somehow blushing at this.  “Darling, I like swallowing,” he said bluntly.  “But not everyone does.  If you want to spit, spit.  I’m going to have the sheets laundered anyway.”

“I won’t know until I try,” Steve said with what felt to Tony like shocking cheerfulness, and wrapped his fingers around his cock again, put his mouth back down over it.  The sudden heat and wetness and pleasure surprised a moan out of Tony, and he felt Steve smile around his cock.  Oh.  That—that was lovely, to feel Steve smile as he sucked him, to feel like he was—he was happy enough doing this to do that—he moaned, felt his hips jerk again, lift up into Steve’s mouth.  He tried his best to keep it gentle and gradual, grasping at control desperately, realized his hand was sliding back, knotting in his own hair and tugging as if that would help keep him grounded, an old habit he thought he’d broken when his hair started falling out because he’d figured it didn’t need any help with that.  A broken whimper escaped him as Steve flicked his tongue at the underside of his cockhead, dragged it up and down the underside, laving at it, without opening his mouth.

It usually took Tony a while to come, and ever since the cancer it had taken even longer, but he could feel how close he was now, and was sure, absolutely sure, that Steve’s hot mouth, his gentle, coaxing tongue, would get him there before too long.  He found himself clutching at his hair, fingers digging into his own scalp, pressing the back of his other hand against his mouth to muffle the noises wanting to escape him, to help keep them back.

Steve looked up at him, blinked slowly, licked at the tip of him again, then pulled off.  Tony whined despite himself, bit down on the web between his fingers and thumb—and then both Steve’s hands were curling around his hips, steadying and warm, his thumbs rubbing in against the crease between Tony’s thighs and hips, and then he was taking a breath, taking Tony into his mouth again, and oh, oh, held steady like that, Steve’s mouth hot and wet, Tony felt so warm.  He felt like he was disintegrating, falling apart, and yet loving every moment of it.  He groaned again, lifted his hips, and Steve took him obligingly, curled his tongue around him all the while.  His fingers bit into Tony’s asscheeks again, tight little points of pain that lingered wonderfully in his muscles.  Tony hoped they bruised.  Steve was clearly urging him on, so he let himself settle into a slow, easy rhythm of rocking his hips up and forward, hopefully one that wouldn’t be too difficult at all for Steve to follow.

It didn’t seem to be—Steve was moving with him, rocking his head back and forth over Tony’s cock like he’d been doing this for years.  Tony had known he’d pick it up quickly, he thought again, the quick thought feeling like all he could spare, his mind scattered, jumbled, by pleasure.  “So good, darling,” Tony heard himself groan.  “So good for me.  That feels so good.  You’re doing so beautifully.  It’s so perfect.”

“Mmm,” Steve groaned at that, the vibration traveling so perfectly along Tony’s cock, and he pressed closer, opened up his mouth a little bit more and let Tony’s cock slide just far enough to flirt with the back of his throat, then pulled himself off nearly to the tip again, lips tight, providing him with suction until Tony was moaning.  Through his own pleasure, Tony was vaguely aware of Steve’s hips jumping, how he pressed them down into the bed and rolled them idly, the big broad length of Steve’s erection obvious behind the soft, clinging fabric.  Steve whimpered, at that, and the feeling of that noise around his cock shot to Tony’s belly and coiled tight in his balls, throbbing hot in his groin.  Hell, was Steve really that into it?  Sucking Tony’s cock?  It seemed impossible, improbable in the extreme, and yet there he was, idly rolling just one big broad thigh against the bed to press his cock into it just a little, flushed all over and hot against Tony’s legs, blatantly turned on.

Tony took a breath, made himself take his hand away from his mouth—he’d been drooling on it, Jesus—and slide it into Steve’s hair, combing it back for his face, tugging on it.  He always loved it when his partner pulled his hair when he went down on them.  Another thing losing his hair had made harder, because having it come out in their hands wasn’t exactly a turn-on.  These days, at least, he was healthy enough that it wasn’t coming out quite so easily.  But he loved it, and from Steve’s earlier reactions he thought he might love it, too, so he tugged gently at Steve’s hair, carded his hand through it, stroked through the short spiky strands, caressed the shape of his skull, and Steve shivered all over.  Tony watched his toes curling even through his own hazy, dizzy pleasure, and found himself smiling.  That was good.  “Are you going to bring me off, big guy?” he whispered, almost a moan, as he kept lifting his hips into Steve’s mouth.  “Are you going to get me off?  Gonna get me to come in your mouth?”

Steve pulled off just long enough to rasp, “That’s the general idea, yeah,” and then his mouth was back on Tony’s cock.  His hips pressed down into the bed again.

“Do you like that?” Tony whispered, his own voice rasping, rambling.  “Do you like my cock in your mouth?  Does it fill you up nicely?  Feel good, nice and hot and salty on your tongue?  You like that?  Do you like the taste of me, do you like the idea of me inside you like that?  Swallow my spunk down and let it keep your belly warm, huh?  You like that?”

Steve moaned, cheeks a flaming red, red all the way down under his shirt, even over his stomach where his shirt had ridden up to display washboard abs and pale skin flushed like a sunset, but he nodded, sucked harder at Tony’s cockhead, lapping at the tip with added determination.

“Good boy,” Tony breathed, so he could watch Steve squirm, duck his head, whimper and push his hips down into the bed, thrusting jerkily, almost awkward, like his skin was suddenly too tight for his body.  He stroked his hand back through Steve’s hair again, over the back of his skull.  “Good, good boy.  Yeah, you like that, huh?  You’re so good at it, sweet thing.  So good at sucking cock.  A natural.”

Steve moaned even louder, and then his cheeks flushed and he pressed his mouth down over Tony’s cock with determination, as if to hide from whatever self-consciousness those words had brought on he was going to suck Tony’s cock even better, take him even deeper.

“Careful,” Tony breathed, grabbing at Steve’s hair in helpless pleasure, petting it mindlessly, urging him on.  “Don’t want you to choke.  Feeling so good already, sweetheart.  Natural cocksucker, aren’t you, big guy?  That’s it.  You’re my good, talented cocksucker.”

Steve whimpered, gave a low, hitching little whine, his cheeks bright red.  He sucked at Tony’s cock a little harder, his eyes half-closed, dazed and hazy when Tony pulled at his hair, got him to raise his eyes to his face, mouth still stretched wide closed around Tony’s cock.  Damn, just the sight of that would be enough to bring Tony off some days, Tony was sure.  He heard himself moan, clutched his hand tighter in Steve’s hair.

“You’re going to get me to come, aren’t you?” he murmured.  “You’re gonna get me to come, spurt off right down your throat, give you a real taste.  You want that, Steve?  You want to taste my pleasure, taste my come?”

Steve nodded his head, jerkily, eyes still fixed on Tony and hot, hazy with desire, his pupils dilated and lashes heavy enough to make them look darker than their normal light blue.  Tony found his attention fixed on the golden tips of Steve’s dark blond eyelashes, where they’d picked up the sun and gone red then bright as gilt.

“Good boy,” he heard himself breathe again.  “Why don’t you put your hand down your pants, darling?  Get your cock out.  I want to see you touch yourself while you’re sucking me.”

Steve gave a low whine through his nose, and one hand slid down almost instantly, gripped at his cock through his soft pants, then he moaned again, mouth going even sloppier and wetter over Tony’s, loose as he moaned over his cock, rubbed his mouth against it messily, sloppy-wet in a way that had Tony’s heart thumping with want.  A moment later Steve slid his hand down his pants just as Tony had instructed, and his mouth went even wetter and looser, wide open and wet and drooling as he just panted around Tony’s cock.

“Yeah,” Tony murmured.  “Does that feel good?”

Steve nodded, his eyes dazed as he looked up at Tony, something wide-eyed and soft in his gaze, his tongue going soft against Tony’s cock, mouth hanging open.  He gave his own cock another tug and groaned, softly, in the back of his throat.

“Oh, honey, I’m so glad,” Tony said.  He rubbed his hand through Steve’s hair, scratched at the back of his head, down over his neck.  “Want you to feel as good as you’re making me feel.  Are you feeling good?”

Steve nodded again, pulled at his cock another time and moaned wetly around Tony’s dick.  His mouth was so wet and hot, and with his hand on his cock it was getting messier, sloppier, smearing all over Tony’s cockhead, all over Steve’s lips and chin.

“Get your cock out, darling,” Tony said gently, as gently as he could with his breathing ragged and his voice hoarse with want.  “I want to see.  Can I see?  Will you show me your cock?  Show me how turned on you are?  Show me how hot you are just from my cock in your mouth?  Yeah, you want to, right?  Let me see it, slugger.”

Steve moaned again, nodded, his throat working and his mouth going even wetter around Tony’s cock, moved his hand to pull clumsily at his pants, plucking at his waistband with awkward tugs for a few minutes before he, Captain America, the most graceful person on the planet, just about, seemed to remember how to link his fingers in the band and tug his pants down.  Since Steve, gorgeous thing that he was, was very visibly not wearing any underwear, that sent his big beautiful cock, hot and hard and red, thudding up against his groin and belly, sending precome all over his belly where his t-shirt had ridden up, the trail of blond hair up to his navel, up over the cotton of his shirt.  There was spit slicking down his chin, over the edge of his lips.

“Oh, yeah,” Tony groaned.  He bit his bottom lip, licked at it.  He could practically feel himself salivating.  “That’s the stuff.  Look at that big ol’ salami, huh?”

Steve went bright red all over—he could see the flush on the tops of his bare feet, even—and his hand tightened around the top of his cock, the big blunt dark red head of it.  He was already dripping, of course—he always got so wet, wet and leaky, and his hand was already slippery wet just from touching himself.  His mouth went loose around Tony, and he gagged just a little, his saliva gurgling up wet around Tony’s cock.  Tony reached down, caught Steve’s jaw in his hand, stroked it gently, eased his mouth back just a bit, Steve’s saliva slipping down over his thumb, his hand, as he dragged in a deep breath.  Tony slid his thumb up, let it just slide into Steve’s mouth where it was open and wet, just over his lips, alongside his own dick, slipping over Steve’s tongue.  Steve moaned, his eyes going even more dilated, and sucked wetly, messily, at his cock, at his thumb.  Tony groaned himself, as Steve’s throat worked and his mouth sent shockwaves of pleasure up his cock.  He rubbed his thumb along Steve’s tongue, feeling the thick slide of saliva under it, the heat of Steve’s tongue, his swollen lips, cupped his chin and lifted his hips just enough to push deeper into Steve’s mouth, then pulled back.  Steve’s eyes fluttered shut and he moaned again, sucking harder.

“That’s it,” Tony breathed.  “You still feeling good, there, champ?”

Steve nodded, groaned in the back of his throat, his eyes opening wide as he stared up at Tony.  He flicked his tongue against Tony’s cock, around the head, against his thumb, as if to assure him he was still ready to go, and his hand tightened on Tony’s thigh, on his own cock, making himself groan as he nodded again.

“Good,” Tony managed on a tight groan of his own.  “I want you to feel good.  You’re doing so well for me.  Doing so good sucking my cock, huh?  Just look at me, huh?  Look what you’re doing to me.  Is that turning you on?”

Steve nodded again, moaned, slid himself a little way forward and bobbed his head over Tony’s cock again, sucking hard, letting his cheeks hollow out.  Tony heard his own gasp loud in his ears as Steve dragged his tongue messily, firmly, over the tip of his cock again.

“Oh,” Tony heard himself moan.  “That’s so good, sweetheart.”  Steve was sliding his tongue over the tip of his cock, dragging it down and then back up, sliding his tongue along the slit just like Tony had suggested earlier, up and down in a teasing, impossibly good rhythm.  Tony gasped, felt himself roll his hips up until his ass left the bed.  He was panting.

“Mmm,” Steve moaned, and then his hand was under Tony’s ass again, angling him up as he sucked at the head and then pushed himself down over his shaft again.  The sounds Tony was making sounded desperate and pathetic, whiny even in his own ears, messy and wet, his mouth damp with saliva now, too, sluttish and lewd and needy.  Steve squeezed at his ass cheek and damn if that didn’t go straight to his cock on top of all the rest, even as Steve sucked harder.  Tony hoped he realized how good this was, what Steve was doing to him, how good he was making him feel.  His head was spinning and he was clutching at Steve’s hair, his shoulder, all over again.  He needed it to steady himself, and Steve was—Steve was so steady and strong and warm, even as he rubbed at Tony’s ass, warm and soothing even as Steve’s mouth brought him higher and higher with pleasure.  He was—he was supposed to be the one leading Steve through this, though, he thought with scattered wisps of thought, and gritted his jaw, reaching for the shreds of control that was all he could manage.  But he didn’t want Steve to feel—set adrift, or anything like that.  He wanted him to feel like he was doing exactly the right thing, to please Tony, to make him feel good, to make him happy.  To make them both feel good.

“Touch yourself,” Tony managed to moan, somehow, getting his head back up, his eyes open, curling his fingers in Steve’s hair.  “C’mon, touch yourself for me, big fella, I want you to feel good, too, want to know you’re touching yourself while you’re bringing me off . . . want to know how you’re enjoying this, that you’re enjoying this . . . .”  He really, really did.  It sure seemed like Steve was enjoying the hell out of all of it, what with the throbbing heat of his erection all huge and wet against his belly, the eager gulps and grunts and noises he was making as he sucked on Tony’s cock, but—but he just wanted to see it, to remember Steve loving this, loving sucking Tony’s cock like this, really, really enjoying it.  And he wanted to make sure things went better when he came this time—but more than anything he wanted to see Steve come.  “God, I want to watch you come,” he mumbled.  “Want to see you come for me, watch you come sucking my cock, big guy, gorgeous.”

“Mmm,” Steve groaned around Tony’s cock, then pulled off, just a bit.  He was panting, his mouth a swollen, puffy mess, his face smeared with saliva, damp with sweat, and he wiped at it with his shoulder, along his bicep, then looked up at Tony again.  He was playing his tongue over his bottom lip, and Tony didn’t think he was trying to be seductive, but God, the sight of it, slick and shiny over that swollen mouth, made Tony dizzy with want.  “I am enjoying it,” Steve mumbled, and his voice was thick, hoarse and raspy.  “I love it when you’re feelin’ good, Tony.  I—I love making you feel good.”  His face was bright red again, but Tony had no doubt of his absolute sincerity, and somehow those gruff words had his throat going thick, his chest squeezing, more than any of the extravagant praise he’d sometimes been lavished with in bed, because it was just Steve, Steve saying he wanted to make him, Tony, feel good, and nothing more.  Calling him Tony.  It always made him dizzy when Steve did that.  Just a little.  Even now, when Steve did it practically every day, all the time.  And then Steve bent down again, and he nuzzled at Tony’s thigh, pressed little kisses along it, and Tony couldn’t help the tight, high-pitched noise that wrung out of him, as Steve’s wet mouth traveled down the sensitive skin of his inner thigh.  “Plus,” Steve said, barely a mumble now.  “I like it.  Like the taste of you.  The feel of you.  Like it when you—when you—fill me up, just like you said.”

Tony couldn’t help it, he moaned at that.  “Oh, Steve, darling, sweetheart, baby,” he managed to babble.  “The things you do to me—I like that, too, like to be there for you, inside you, wherever you want me, whatever you want.”  He was petting Steve’s hair with his fingertips, couldn’t seem to stop.  “Anything you want, anytime, you just have to ask.”

Steve smiled up at him, raising his eyes just enough that Tony could see it, see them, the rueful tilt to his mouth, before he kissed Tony’s thigh again.  “I wanted to do it again ever since the first time,” he said, in what was barely more than a hoarse whisper.  “But I—well, I was afraid I’d looked like an idiot, if I’m honest.  Afraid you wouldn’t want me to do it again.”

“No!” Tony gasped.  “Not that.  Never that.  You were amazing.  You were lovely.  You were so lovely.  I was just worried it’d been too much of a shock.  I want it, I wanted it, I love your mouth on me, sweetheart, honey, love it.”  He found himself sweating, hot, almost trembling.  He felt dizzy at the idea that Steve would want to suck him off that badly, enough that he would—would actually spend time thinking about it.  I wanted to do it again ever since the first time—God.  Tony was so lucky.  So, so lucky; how the hell had he gotten so lucky?  How the hell could he, Tony Stark, ever possibly managed to deserve this?  Tony’s head was spinning, hot; he felt hot all over.

“I’m not gonna get scared away from you because your dick went down my throat, Stark,” Steve said gruffly, against Tony’s thigh, the soft crease between it and his wet dick, sticky with saliva and precome, his chin brushing his balls and his breath warm.  “I know what I signed up for.  I wanted to.  I still want to.”  Tony could see the stubborn set to his jaw, even with the way he was caressing his thigh with his lips, his face.  He pushed his face in between Tony’s thigh and his cock, against the crease there, and left a kiss, then pulled back, enough to kiss Tony’s thigh lower down, closer to his knee, the top of his leg.

“Well, then I want you to,” Tony whispered, and Steve smiled up at him.

“Good,” he said.  He slid his hand down Tony’s thigh again, down around his knee than up around the inside, until Tony was shivering with the warmth of it, of the touch, the way it felt, the pure pleasure of being touched like that, and then he slid it up Tony’s inner thigh, pushed his leg out wide, and Tony let him, sighed and relaxed into it.  He’d let Steve manhandle him however he damn well wanted to, any day of the week.  Steve’s big, broad, blunt, square fingers smoothed along his inner thigh, up along the sensitive skin at the crease of his groin, and Tony shivered again, panting, bit his bottom lip, sucked on it.  The hot sensation went all the way through him, a thrilling tease, warm and prickling where Steve’s calluses skimmed over his skin.  Steve’s hand moved over to squeeze and massage at his balls, then he was running his wide warm palm against them, stroking and tugging gently, and Tony heard his own loud gasp in his ears, felt sweat spring up under his arms, heard himself panting.  It felt so, so good, a low warm pleasure building and building, in his gut, his balls, his still-wet cock.

“Steve,” he groaned, practically whispered, whimpered, jerking his hips up helplessly, spasmodically, into Steve’s hand.

Steve gave a low grunt, sounding satisfied, squeezed his balls lightly, gently, then pushed Tony’s cock up toward his belly again, leaned in and in and down, shimmying up a little between Tony’s legs on his stomach, and pressed a hot, wet kiss to the base of his cock.  Tony heard the moaning little noise he gave, found himself covering his mouth with his hand again.  Steve shot a quick smile up at him, and the sight of that bright, crooked grin on his face made Tony’s chest twinge with a tender, pleasurable ache, like a bruise on the inside, tightened up his stomach—and yeah, made his cock twitch, too.  Steve’s face was red, but he was still smiling when he dipped his head and took the tip of Tony’s cock back into his mouth.

“Oh!” Tony whimpered, and bit down on the side of his finger.  “Oh, oh, goodness, darling.”  Steve licked firmly at the underside of his cockhead, and he moaned out what wanted to be another whimper, clenching his teeth so it just came out a long moaning noise.  “That’s so good,” he managed to gasp out.  He could feel his chest heaving.  Steve hummed a little, and it felt like the vibration went straight down to his balls, hooked around something in his stomach, hot and hard, twisted tight and pulled.  He groaned, let his hips roll forward just a little, and Steve just sucked at him harder, pulled him farther into his hot, wet, welcoming mouth.  Tony groaned again, despite himself.  His face felt very hot.  He made himself take a deep breath, slide his hand up along Steve’s shoulder, his neck, his jaw, to push back into his hair, stroking it as Steve sucked at his cock, bobbed his head over it.  “Touch yourself, sweetheart,” he murmured.  “Remember?  I want to see you feeling good.”

Steve just nodded, sucking harder then pulling back a bit, licking at his cock and panting as he slid a hand down, wrapped it around his own huge, hard, dripping cock again, hard palm and big square callused fingers big enough to look proportionate as he tugged at himself, slid it down to wrap around the base, even as he went back to sucking hard at Tony’s cock, taking it into his mouth far enough that he must have been filling him up pretty well, even if he wasn’t knocking at the door at the back of his throat, exactly.  He groaned, a harsh sound that send a hot rush of air down along Tony’s cock.

“That’s it,” Tony panted, petting his fingers through Steve’s hair as his throat worked and he let Tony’s length slide messily and wetly out of his mouth again to lick around the head.  “That’s it, God, does that feel good?  How’s your hand feel on your cock, huh, honeybunch?  That feel good?”

Steve nodded, breathlessly.  His eyes were closed, even as he tilted his head to one side, rubbed his open mouth, his parted lips, all over Tony’s cock, licking softly and gently at Tony’s cockhead in a way that had him shivering.

“Good, good,” Tony managed to get out, swallowing hard just so the words came out clearly without spilling saliva all over his beard and the sides of his chin.  Steve always came quickly, and it was pretty apparent—from the flush of his face, from the leaky mess his cock was making on the coverlet, all over his fingers, from so many other things—that this was turning him on even more, so Tony didn’t expect him to last much longer.  “Are you gonna come?  Come while you’re sucking me off?  Rub yourself off with your mouth still on my cock?  You want to?  You want to come with my cock in your mouth, knowing how well you’re sucking me off?”

Steve groaned, his mouth falling open wetly around Tony’s length.  He was doing as Tony had told him, pulling at his cock, stroking himself rough and quick, tugging roughly up over the head, panting against Tony’s cock.  Tony’s fingers twitched in Steve’s soft hair, itching to pull him in close and curl his own hand against that hot cock—he could almost imagine the remembered searing heat of it, the wet slide, the weight and incredible thickness of it in his hand, the soft, impossibly tender, thin skin of Steve under his hand over that steely hardness and the pulse of blood, even the taste and smell of him, sex sweat and musk and the sweet clean scent of plain Ivory soap, the way the taste of it clung to his skin.  Steve was panting now, mouth gone wet and sloppy around Tony even as he sucked determinedly at his cock, and rolling his hips up into his hand, groaning a little low in his throat.  He was definitely close, then—Tony recognized the noises he made.

“Spread your legs a little bit for me, babe,” Tony mumbled, curling his fingers in Steve’s hair.  “I wanna get a good view.  Want to watch you come off for me.  Roll back on your hip, show yourself off for me.”

Steve groaned, panting, eyes fluttering dazedly open as he looked up at Tony, dragged his tongue up under his cockhead, over the tip, long and slow, making Tony moan aloud again and bite his lip, and then he blinked, shivered, and rolled obediently to one side, spreading his legs and tilting the upper one back to push his cock forward, putting it more on display, even as he clutched at Tony’s thigh, his knee, as if to steady himself.  He looked up at Tony again, half uncertain, as if to ask like this?

“That’s it,” Tony groaned out.  “That’s it, that’s just perfect, just how I wanted, slugger, that’s perfect.”

Steve’s eyes fluttered closed again, and he pushed his head forward, taking Tony’s length back into his mouth and hollowing his cheeks out to suck, still rolling his hips forward into his hand in that way that put him so fantastically on display.  His shirt had ridden up almost to his nipples, and Tony could see how deeply his chest and belly were flushed.  He was practically glowing, the way he did with exertion and the faint hint of perspiration (Tony got sweaty, but Steve just sort of glowed with his sweat like the idealized heroine of a romance novel—not that Tony would admit to having read those if most people had asked).  The suction on his cock was so good, so, so good that it was making Tony’s eyes want to cross, but he kept them open with an effort, sliding his hand through Steve’s hair, scratching gently at his scalp, because he wanted to watch, watch him come off with his mouth still on Tony’s cock, even as the pleasure it sent through him went brighter and brighter and sharper and sharper, and he let his hips roll just a little into Steve’s mouth.

Steve gave a little gasping whimper of a noise, followed with a little moan, his hand clutching at Tony’s thigh as he dragged his hand up again, rubbed his thumb over his slit, making a smeared mess of his thick wet cockhead.

“Good boy,” Tony breathed, his voice ragged with his own pleasure.  “Just look at you.  Dripping all over the bed, aren’t you, hon?  You get so wet.  So wet and so red.  Red all over, so damn red, look at that big red cock.  You must be feeling good.  You like the feel of my cock in your mouth, huh?”  Steve nodded at that, whining softly through his nose as he tugged more firmly at his cock, panting breathlessly.  Tony tugged at his hair lightly, stroked his fingers through it again.  “Yeah, you like that so much, don’t you,” he murmured, letting his voice go soft and fond.  “Love sucking my cock.  Bet you’d do that for me any time I asked, huh?  Go down for me under my desk while I’m on a conference call for the company and suck me down.  Let me come down your throat.  It sure would make doing paperwork more interesting, that’s for sure.  Suck me off in the quinjet after a mission.  You ever thought about that?”  He was surprised, though, when Steve flushed dark and gave a hoarse, soft little ha haa noise, whimpering, his eyes opening wide, then sliding closed.  He tongued sloppily at one side of Tony’s cockhead, then pulled off just enough to whisper raggedly against the messy wet tip of his cock.

“Yeah,” he rasped out.

Tony felt his own eyes widen, a wave of heat go through his whole body.  “You have?” he gasped.  “Damn, Steve.  How am I supposed to deal with the comedown after a mission when I know you might be just standing there looking cool as ever and thinking about going down on your knees and sucking me off?”

Steve shrugged.  “Thought about it a lot,” he said hoarsely, blunt and honest as ever.  “Even before we started this.  How you’d—you’d put your hands on my head, let me use my mouth on you, come all over my tongue, down my throat so I could taste it.”  Tony heard himself groan, whimpered, thrust up against Steve’s mouth despite himself until Steve grabbed his cock, thumb sliding up along the side and gently rubbing up along the tip, and Tony fell back into the bed with a low huff of breath, let himself melt back against the pillows.  Steve smiled a little, still stroking Tony’s hot, wet cock with his thumb, making him tremble at the low level of pleasure that sent shivering through him, somehow just as affecting as the more intense, white-hot pleasure of Steve’s mouth on him, but in an entirely different way, leaving him boneless, head sinking into the pillows and his legs sprawled wide.  “So you’ll just have to deal with it, Stark,” Steve added.

“I’m going to be thinking about that next time,” Tony breathed.  “I swear.  Won’t be able to stop, stop imagining you getting your mouth on me.  God, Steve, you darling, you gorgeous, naughty thing.  You set your jaw and scowl and look all noble and no one would ever dream you were picturing going down on me.  I sure wouldn’t have ever guessed that.”  He scrubbed one hand across his face, bringing his other down to rub at the hot skin of Steve’s jaw.

“And here I thought you had a good imagination,” Steve said, smirking a little, and Tony shivered, smiled down at him, ran both hands through his hair, carding it back off his forehead, rubbing both thumbs against the hot skin there, along his hairline, along his temples.

“Trust me,” he murmured.  “I’ve imagined you sucking me off a hundred times if I have once.”

Steve smiled at that, a pleased light in his eyes even as he flushed deeply all over again.  “Yeah?” he breathed.

“Oh, yeah,” Tony said fervently.  “In the shower—maybe as a break from lab work, you pushing me down on my back on the bed and just going to town on me—”

“Mmm,” Steve hummed.  “I like that one.  Like the idea of, of.”  He flushed and ducked his head down, into Tony’s hands.  “Of pleasuring you,” he whispered.  “Of making you feel good, serving you, until you’re, you're . . . satisfied. Relaxed.”

“Oh, you sweetheart,” Tony whispered.  “How the hell did I get so lucky with you, huh?  I’m so lucky you—you want to—” he had to break off, overcome, feeling his throat close up stupidly, his eyes sting.

“I’m not so sweet,” Steve said.  “You’re the sweet one.”  Tony made a face at him, shook his head, because honestly, that was ridiculous.  “But I do want to make you feel good,” Steve added, then bent his head again, licked at Tony’s cock, licked it back into his mouth and sucked wetly, messily.

Tony gasped, groaned out as a burst of pleasure shot through him and his body went hot all over, felt himself arching into the wet hot grip of Steve’s mouth.  It took him a moment—his eyes wanted to clench closed—but eventually he managed to force his eyes open again, panting, and looked down at Steve.  His lips were so swollen now, so red and wet, puffy where they pulled taut around Tony’s length, sticky and slick with precome, his face flushed so red, hair tousled wildly.  His flush was still showing on his belly and chest, over his ribs, his belly heaving, rippling with muscle every time he tugged on his cock, which was leaking a steady stream of wet neediness all over his enviable abs, matting down his soft blond curls around his cock, soaking into the coverlet and streaking down his wrist.  His legs were parted, knee raised and hips canted forward to give Tony a good view.  His cockhead looked so huge and flushed and red and wet, the tip red and needy and flushed dark even as Steve played with his foreskin, pushed it up and down over his length.  Tony could have jerked off just looking at him like that—but he didn’t have to, because Steve’s hot, wet mouth was around half his cock, and damn, just thinking about that still had him dizzy.

“I am feeling good,” he managed to rasp out, his voice weak and reedy, really a hoarse gasp more than anything else.  “So, so good, big fella.  You’re so good with your tongue, you know that?  It’s so firm and strong on me, I can really feel it.  So hot and wet and around me.  I’m really loving that, dulcecito.”

Steve moaned around him, and his lashes fluttered closed.  He sucked a little bit harder, his tongue swirling around the head of Tony’s cock with increased determination, and his hand sped up on his own cock.

“Yeah,” Tony managed on a heavy, dizzy breath.  “That’s it.  That’s just exactly it.  You look so good on my cock, cariño, so gorgeous.  Next time you’re away I’m going to think about this while I bring myself off, I swear.”

Steve moaned again at that, sounding happy, and his eyes squeezed further shut.  His hand sped on his own cock.

“Yeah,” Tony gasped out.  “That’s it.  Touch yourself, honey.  You look so good like that.  You like that, thinking about me thinking about you, missing your mouth with my hand around myself?  Couldn’t possibly be as good as you, not in a million years.  I’d be aching for you, your hot wet mouth, your tongue, your big body all over me, beside, me, keeping me nice and warm.  You gonna think about this the next time you bring yourself off, too?”

Steve nodded immediately, fervently, not opening his eyes, jolting his head up and down.  Tony found himself smiling, biting his lip, looking down at Steve, running both hands through his hair now, fondness twisting tight and bubbling up inside him until it almost made his throat hurt.

“Yeah,” he breathed.  “You do that for me, all right, champ?  Get your hand around your cock and think about how my dick felt in your mouth—how I tasted—all hot and heavy, huh?  Filling your mouth up really nice, all hot on your big strong tongue, big fella, yeah, you’re doing so great, Steve; you’re perfect.  Damn, you look so good; never going to forget you like this.  You look incredible.  Can’t wait to see you come with my dick in your mouth.  You’re gonna come for me, right?  I want to watch, I want to see you shoot off like this, cover yourself in your own spunk while you hold me in your mouth, huh?  I bet you want that, too.  You like it when I watch you come, don’t you, Steve?  Sure, it embarrasses you, you flush bright red, but that’s part of why you like it so much.”

Steve was flushing all right, but he was also stripping his cock desperately, the hot, wet slapping noise of it filling the room.  He was panting, his eyes screwed shut, and Tony knew what it looked like when he was about to come by now, what it sounded like, and those little desperate grunting noises, that haa haa in the back of Steve’s throat, the way he’d screwed up his face, shut his eyes tight—he was almost there, had to be.  He set his bare feet on the bed, put both hands on Steve’s head, running his fingers through his hair, tugging gently at the soft strands to pull Steve a little further down on his cock, softly, but just firm enough that Steve might feel it.

Steve whimpered, gasped out hard around Tony’s cock, and then he was coming, coming with a stifled, strangled cry that could have been Tony’s name, but could also have been anything really, spattering the bed, his chest and his belly, all the way up to his chin.  He always came a lot, a whole lot, and this time was no exception.  Tony watched with dazed awe and pleasure as Steve kept rubbing himself through it, writhing against the bed as he came and came and came, covering his own hand with it, his strong forearm as the pearly droplets slid down over his hard muscle and clung to the hairs on his arm, slipped down the inner skin to his elbow and pooled there.  Steve’s legs were shaking, those sturdy thighs the size of tree trunks and muscular calves trembling like a badly engineered bridge, and finally they gave out and his knees fell together, to one side, pressing his thighs together as he whimpered around Tony’s cock, still pulling at his own dick as he shivered and drooled wet and messy around Tony and shook through his orgasm, panting.

Tony could probably have come just at the way Steve’s mouth pulled gracelessly, instinctively at him, through his orgasm, his wet gasps and the way his mouth hung open, wet with saliva unspooling from his tongue and slipping out of his lips all down Tony’s cock, the convulsive, instinctive, swallows that sent shockwaves of pleasure through Tony’s whole body, the vibrations Steve’s grunts and sobbing whimpers sent through his cock—but he held himself off with determination because he wanted to watch; he wanted to see Steve come, he wanted to see him through it, watch him the whole way through.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, and it was true.  Steve’s pleasure was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen, and he didn’t intend to miss a moment of it.  “So gorgeous, so beyond gorgeous, most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Steve, damn, you’re gorgeous.  You’re perfect.  You’re feeling so good, right?  I want you to feel so good, love seeing you like this, in your pleasure, you look so perfect for me, come so perfect for me.  Love watching you come, never get tired of it.”  He massaged Steve’s scalp through his orgasm, rubbed his hands through his hair, stroking gently, until Steve collapsed against the bed and let his cheek rest on Tony’s thigh, his cock slipping gracelessly, wetly, out of Steve’s mouth as Steve panted there on his thigh.  His eyes were still closed, and he sighed, his whole big body going loose, relaxing, as Tony kept petting his hair. “So good,” he told him.  “You were so good, so perfect, coming for me like that, bringing yourself off just like I said, touching your cock for me while you sucked my dick.  So good, Steve.  You did so well.  That was such a pretty orgasm, my dear; I hope it felt as good as it looked, because it looked spectacular.  Are you feeling good?  I hope you’re feeling good, want you to feel good.  You look like you’re feeling good.”  He kept that up, a steady stream of rambling, babbling praise, soft words and telling Steve perfect he was, how perfect he’d been, barely thinking about it, just sure that that was no more than Steve deserved.  It was always easy for Tony to talk in bed—being quiet would have been the challenge, really.

They lay like that for a long time, Steve’s big body shivering against him, his lips pressed against Tony’s thigh, saliva drooling out into a big wet smear against it as Tony pet his hair, rubbed behind his ears, at the back of his neck, into the hinges of his jaw, and Steve breathed unevenly.  His big hand was still clasped loosely around the base of his own cock.  Eventually, though, his breathing evened out, his abs quivered, worked, and then he was opening his eyes, pulling his hand away from his dick.  It was covered in his own come, and he made a face at it and wiped it off on the covers, then down his own side, before he looked up at Tony.  He was biting his lip, and his face looked uncertain, despite all of Tony’s praise.

“You came so beautifully for me,” Tony said immediately, warmly, and Steve flushed, ducked his head down, but he also smiled, enough that his eyes crinkled up.  Tony rubbed at those little eye crinkles gently with one finger, then slid it up over Steve’s eyebrow.  “Gorgeous,” he said.  “You’re so gorgeous when you come, handsome.  I love seeing you overcome with pleasure, just lost in it, giving yourself over to something so good.”  He stroked his hand back through Steve’s hair.  “Did that feel good?”

“Hell, Tony, of course it did,” Steve said, sounding gruff and annoyed and adorably flustered.

“I’m so glad, mi tesoro,” Tony said.  “I wanted it to feel good.  Feel amazing.  Did it feel amazing?”

Steve nodded, rapidly, still not quite meeting his eyes.  “Yes,” he finally husked out, and then covered his face with one hand.

“Good,” Tony said, smiling at him, stroking his hand through his hair again.  “Good."

After a moment Steve raised his head, cleared his throat, coughed a little into his hand.  “I didn’t finish you off, though,” he said.

Tony smiled down at him.  “Well, no, you didn’t, my dear,” he said.  “Are you planning on doing something about that?”

“’Course,” Steve said.  “Hell, Tony, I’m sorry I left you hangin’.  Just let me—” —he stopped, because Tony’s hand was pressing gently against his chest, and looked up at him in surprise.

“Now, shush a moment, sweet thing,” Tony said.  “You did not leave me hanging, all right?  We can take a moment for you to feel good any time we do this, for you to enjoy yourself.  That’s what I want, all right?  Trust me, I was perfectly happy to watch.”  He leaned over, let his fingers trail up along Steve’s sticky, hot, wet cock, watching him as Steve’s eyes widened and a delicious shiver traveled through his entire body at the touch.  He slid his fingers up to the oh-so-sensitive head, rubbed his thumb against the tip, reveling in the wet, smearing slide of it, the way Steve choked on a breath and writhed, arching himself up off the bed even in his sideways position.  He slid his wet thumb down, rubbed at the sensitive spot just under the glans, just above Steve’s foreskin, pushing it down as he did.  “I told you to bring yourself off because I wanted to watch you, and you did,” he purred.  “You did exactly what I wanted you to do and gave me a stupendous show.  I’d be happy to watch that any time at all.”

Steve was breathing unevenly, loudly, through his mouth, panting.  He moaned, shivering, gripping uncertainly at the bedcovers as Tony rubbed at him a little more, then patted his cock and drew his hand away, rubbing his fingers and thumb over his exposed hip, the warm, velvety skin of it radiating heat.

“Now,” Tony said.  “Now that you’ve come, lovely, you can put all that enviable focus to work on me, right?”  He winked.

Steve nodded, his jaw setting.  He rolled over, shifting himself back, until he was in between Tony’s legs, then scooted forward.  He put both hands on Tony’s hips this time, big and warm and heady, pressing him back gently into the pillows.  “I sure will,” he said, looking up into Tony’s face, all determined sincerity, and then he was pressing Tony’s thighs gently apart and ducking his head down.  He curved both his hands around Tony’s cock and his balls, and then took the head into his mouth again, suckling gently, wrapping his tongue around it, and then going deeper, bobbing his head up and down.

It wasn’t a total surprise, but the pleasure of it still struck Tony like a blow, had him arching up off the bed helplessly, clutching at Steve’s hair with one hand and covering his mouth with the other.  Steve moaned, as if in pleasure, as if to spur him on, and moved with that thrust, keeping his mouth on Tony’s cock even as he moved back, then sinking himself back down over it again.  He didn’t go so deep that it hit the back of his throat, but he still covered a good percentage of Tony with that hot, deep sucking pressure, and Tony heard himself whine high-pitched and pathetic as Steve drew back, his lips dragging over his length, providing tight suction around him all the while.

“Oh, Steve, Steve, darling, my dear, handsome, stud, lindo,” Tony babbled helplessly.  “Oh, that feels good.”

Steve apparently took that as a request for more of that, because he did the same thing again, stroking and tugging gently at Tony’s balls all the while, and oh, there was no way Tony was going to last.  Steve’s mouth was wet and so, so hot, and his hand was warm on Tony’s cock, on his balls, his breath turning the place between Tony’s thighs humid and damp and hot, and everything felt so good.  Tony knew he was babbling, but he had no idea what he said, other than a vague concept that it had all been praise for Steve, how good he felt and how perfect he was, because that was the only thing he was thinking about, the only thought in his head other than the pleasure of it all, how good Steve’s mouth felt around his cock.

Tony wasn’t sure how long it took after that—he couldn’t have said, really.  He had a vague impression that it hadn’t been much longer at all, but for all he knew it could have been hours, he was so lost in the pleasure of what Steve was doing for him, running his hand through his hair, and rolling his hips as softly as he could he manage and gasping his breath between babbling words of praise for Steve.  If someone had told him he’d been there for hours with Steve’s mouth on his cock, he’d have believed them.  Everything sort of spun out and solidified, like strands of sugar, going amber and gold all around him, perfect pleasure as he was suspended there in the midst of it, hanging by a thread that was his cock in Steve’s mouth.  Steve balanced his cock on his tongue, slurped around the head, wrapped both his hands around it and got his knees under him and suckled, bobbed his head, clearly losing his inhibitions a bit now, getting the hang of it, pushing Tony higher and higher, dragging his mouth down over the tip and playing his tongue against the slit, covering the whole head with the warm wet drag of his tongue then balancing it on his tongue again to play gently with his tongue, licking it gently all over, going down far enough to nuzzle and suck on his balls then back up to suck at the tip.  Tony thought his brain was probably drowning in endorphins, neurons going off in little fizzy sparks, spinning all around, he thought fancifully—his brain probably hadn’t produced so many endorphins at once, so powerfully, for months.  Steve was always good to him in bed, but this was something else, the pleasure so pure and powerful Tony found himself hanging onto Steve’s hair for dear life, shaking against the bed, his thighs shuddering, twitching helplessly as Steve sucked him higher and higher.

The pleasure crested higher and higher, and Tony wasn’t even sure when he first started to come, when the pleasure crossed over into that of his peak, just that suddenly he was flying so high and so hot that his whole body was tingling with hot, bright pleasure, and he was crying out, lifting his hips into it, everything swallowed up by the pleasure except the knowledge that that was Steve’s mouth around him, Steve was making him feel this good, Steve’s soft hair under his hands, because that made it even better, made the pleasure feel even sweeter.  He knew he was coming when he was halfway through his orgasm, could feel his cock pulsing, pumping out come, as he flew off the peak and hung there in the air, and the pleasure shuddered through him in wave after wave.

He couldn’t have said how long that went on for, either, just that eventually he felt Steve running his broad, warm palm, firm with callus, idly, almost curiously, up and down his cock, felt him slide back and off him, and Tony realized his eyes were shut and he was gasping for breath, that he’d melted back into the bed and his legs were spread wide, his chest heaving.  He felt like a liquid, like his bones had melted and his body had forgotten how to be a solid, like Steve had turned him into a quivering pool of runny Jell-O against his own Egyptian cotton sheets.  He pet clumsily at Steve’s hair, dragged in a breath, and said, startled by how deeply his voice rasped in his throat, “Steve, stud, wow, that was, wow, I, that was perfect, querido.”  He opened his eyes, and it seemed to take an enormous effort.

Steve licked idly at the tip of Tony’s cock, making him shiver all over with pleasurable overstimulation, one foot kicking out helplessly in reflex against the bed, then leaned up and curled his big heavy warm muscled arm over Tony’s hip, rested his chin on it.  “I didn’t cough that time,” he said, sounding pleased with himself.  “I swallowed it all.”  He ran his fingers up the underside of Tony’s cock, a gorgeous tease that had Tony shivering all over again.  “Didn’t spit it out.”

“And it didn’t even come out your nose,” Tony said, on a loopy little giggle he couldn’t seem to help, running his thumb up over Steve’s bottom lip, then his top one, under his nose then up over his cheekbone.

Steve smiled, and it was gorgeous, like a sun rising over the water, bright and gilded, his tongue running along his damp, swollen bottom lip before he bit it and the smile went charmingly crooked.  That smile could power whole buildings, Tony thought loopily, if only he could find some way to harness it.  “Nope,” he said.  “See, I was expecting it this time, Stark.”

“My quick learner,” Tony said, with a sighing smile, still petting one side of Steve’s face.  “That was fantastic, stud.  Now that you can do that, I’m yours for life, you know that?  All you have to do is get down on your knees and suck my brains out through my cock, and—”

“Aw, you shut up,” Steve said, laughing as he pulled himself up over Tony’s chest, pressed him down into the bed with his welcome weight, and cupped both hands around Tony’s face.  Tony found himself smiling up into his gorgeous, glorious smile, lifted his arms just enough to link them around Steve’s vast forearms and hang on.  “Just glad you liked it, is all.”  He rubbed a hand up, through Tony’s hair.  “You always do it so nice for me.”

Tony smiled up at him.  “Nicest thing anyone’s done for me in ages, sport,” he said, and he meant it.  “Except for you taking me out to dinner, of course.”

Steve flushed, looked down, then back up at Tony, bit his bottom lip.  “Just as long as I can please you,” he blurted, finally, almost shyly, big body going hot over Tony’s as he met his eyes.  “That’s all I want.”

“No one could please me more,” Tony whispered, and he meant it, and the way that made him feel raw and naked and exposed was worth it for the way it lit Steve up until he was practically glowing.  His cheeks were red, his ears were even redder, and the flush went all the way down his neck, down his belly, when Tony glanced down at it, and he was beaming.

“You mean that?” he asked hoarsely, finally, his voice gruff, harsh, but shaking under it.

“Yes,” Tony said, and let the heaviness of his sincerity, the aching weight of it, show in the word, despite the way that terrified him, made him shake with the awareness of everything he might have revealed.  “I do.  Come here, querido.”  Steve sank down against him, let his head settle onto Tony’s shoulder, roll into the hollow of his neck, let Tony wrap his arms around him.  Tony stroked his hands down over the vast, muscled expanse of his back, slid them down far enough to find bare skin, just a little damp with sweat and pebbled with gooseflesh now that the action was over, and rubbed his hands up and down over the bare skin, before he pulled Steve’s t-shirt down.

“I never imagined anything like this, Tony,” Steve mumbled, after a moment, into Tony’s neck, a hushed, quiet confession as their racing hearts began to even out, slow from their rapid pounding, and the room had grown quiet.  “Never imagined anything like being with you.”

Tony hugged Steve tighter to his own body.  “It’s a new one on me, too, big fella,” he murmured, and kissed the hot curve of Steve’s ear.  “You’re a new one on me.”

“Sure I am,” Steve muttered doubtfully.

“You are,” Tony insisted, then grinned and bit lightly at the lobe of Steve’s ear to lighten the moment.  “Big, beautiful, and you can suck cock like a champ.”

“Stark!” Steve said, and then hugged him around the waist, rolled over, and leaned in to kiss him—but he hesitated, just at the last moment.  “Oh,” he said.  “My mouth’s—”

“Gonna taste like me,” Tony said, and winked at him.  “My favorite flavor after yours.”  He slid his arms around Steve’s shoulders and kissed him, deep and sweet and long, tasting himself on Steve’s tongue.  When he finally pulled away, Steve was shivering, his eyes glassy and glazed, hazy with pleasure, and Tony skimmed his fingers gently over his lips, which made Steve shudder against him, breathing unsteadily.  “Tastes great,” Tony said, and Steve smiled.

“I’m just glad you liked it,” he said, and it was so sweetly sincere that something seized up in Tony’s chest, a lump clumping in his throat.

“I adored it,” Tony corrected, and ran the backs of his fingers along Steve’s cheekbone, back into his hair, where he gripped firmly, steadyingly.  “Wanna shower together, sunshine?”

Steve smiled at him, hazy-sweet.  “Sure, Tony,” he said.  “That sounds like a good time.”

Tony smiled back at him.  “Oh, it will be,” he promised.  “And then we’ll come back and fall into bed together?”

Steve lit up again, and Tony felt an answering warmth in his own chest at the idea that Steve wanted to spend the night in his bed.  He was getting used to that, and every time it felt so good, warm and safe and—and—well, it was just good.  “You got yourself a deal,” Steve said.

“Swap spit on it?” Tony asked, and waggled his eyebrows.

Stark,” Steve said, laughing, but he caught his face in his hands, and kissed him deep and slow, until Tony was arching back into the pillows and gasping, his eyes falling closed and Steve’s hands in his hair.

God, it had been a good night.  And it was going to be a good rest of the night, too—Tony didn’t need to be a genius to figure that one out, with Steve’s big hands in his hair, rubbing at the back of his neck, and his tongue in his mouth, and his body warm all the way down against Tony’s.  A good night for both of them.  What more could he ask for?