Ok but Tony in Steve’s lap grinding down on Steve’s leg and telling Steve he can’t touch

goodmorningbeloved:

yes……how did you know…………

put them in one of tony’s nice leather chairs in an SI office

steve first thinking tony doesn’t mean it, because he knows how much tony loves his hands on his hips when he’s riding him, only to be proven wrong when tony almost snarls at steve’s fingertips on his waist and grinds down into him so firmly that the chair rolls back and knocks against the painting on the wall behind them a little

steve giving a small, strained moan at it and only scrambling for a better grip until tony takes his hands away himself. he’s still moving, still rolling his hips in languid, unhurried circles over the hard line of steve’s dick in his pants and the blessed friction leaves steve dazed enough that he kind of just latches on to the first thing his hands are guided to, which happens to be the armrests

tony all dark eyes and mostly-good intentions, kissing steve everywhere but the lips while he essentially fucks himself down onto steve through their clothes. tony murmuring low and filthy things as he looks down on steve’s hazy, reverent gaze. steve calling him a tease, probably. tony laughing breathlessly and sliding a hand down steve’s chest and over one of his nipples because yeah, but steve’s going to come from it, isn’t he

steve nodding and whispering breathless “yes”s and “please”s and “so good, tony”s because he was raised with manners okay. tony making his approval known when he asks—or tells—steve to come for him. tony smiling silkily when steve throws his head back and bucks his hips upwards. tony praising him quietly through it, riding out the waves of his orgasm with him

steve, bless the serum, recovering quicker than most. steve looking at tony with love but also that same kind of intent that had flashed in tony’s eyes as he guides him closer, lifts his ass with one hand so he can adjust their position, until tony is straddling one of his thighs. (“god, that’s so hot,” tony rambles by the hickey on his neck.) steve finally putting his hands on tony’s hips where they belong, and then guiding tony’s hips into motion, making him grind his cock down on steve’s thigh again and again until he sobs out his own release against steve’s chest

tony huffing afterwards, going, “i’ll never be able to spend another second in this office without thinking about you,” as if he didn’t instigate this whole thing

steve scoffing, “then we should have done this in your workshop,” then saying “no, shower first, tony,” when tony attempts to drag him off to do just that