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Updated by request from @musicalluna. ^_^
There will be one more part to wrap it up! Part one can be found here.
Mind the cut! Despite this being the sex pollen fic, I’ve done my best to make it as non dub-con as the trope can possibly get.
“I think this is the last of it,” Steve said from the hall, carrying in a plastic crate. It bumped against his thighs as he walked, the glass inside tinkling gently. He caught the sliding lab door with one hip and nudged it open further, even though Jarvis would have done it for him if he’d asked.
If it had been anyone else, maybe Tony would have jumped up to help carry the heavy crate, or at least made an effort to direct the placement of said crate. But it wasn’t anyone else – it was Steve, and Steve’s already voluminous chest was puffed up between his biceps, and Tony was more than content to just watch. He propped his elbow up on his workstation and made no secret of his eyes following Steve around the room.
Steve did a very good job of keeping a straight face as he walked three circuits of the space where they’d stacked all the gear from the Embarrass(ment) lab. Just when he’d turned to make a fourth pass around the piles, he lost it and started laughing.
“Where do you want this?” he asked, stopping and turning to look at Tony over his shoulder. It was a good angle for him.
“Oh, feel free to just leave it any old place,” Tony said, flipping a hand negligently. “I don’t think you’ve looked over in that corner yet.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, and gave Steve a bright smile.
Cheeks going a little pink, Steve obligingly hiked the heavy crate up a little further, incidentally doing not unpleasant things to his biceps. Tony tilted his head down so he had a better view of Steve’s ass as he clink-clinked his way past within inches of Tony’s seat. If the years on stage had done nothing else for Steve, it had definitely taught him how to show off his body to advantage when he wanted to.
Unable to resist, Tony reached out and smacked Steve on the ass with quick backhand. He’d moved faster and harder than apparently either of them had expected, because Steve jumped with a startled inhale. As if in slow motion, Tony watched the crate drop out of Steve’s hands. Before even Steve’s reflexes could save it, the crate hit the polished floor on one corner with a tremendous crash. It spilled open to the soundtrack of breaking glass, releasing a cloud of fine white powder like snow.
They both jerked forward on reflex. Tony’s head bumped into Steve’s shoulder, and then started giggling. He felt warm all over. It was so stupid – a pair of world class superheroes who had literally saved the planet more times than all of their phalanges put together, and they couldn’t navigate a dropped box. Steve leaned into him and started laughing too. He dropped to his knees, reaching up to support Tony’s weight only when Tony tilted forward and nearly fell out of his stool.
“Tony,” Steve gasped through his giggles. “Tony, I think… I think something’s wrong.”
Tony dropped to Steve’s shoulders, knocking him down. They fell to the floor in a messy sprawl, Tony kicking the box on the way down. He pressed his face to Steve’s neck and breathed in the earthy, salty scent of him. Steve always smelled like a fresh ocean breeze. Tony licked his neck.
“Tony,” Steve tried again. “Tony! Jarvis!”
Tony was having trouble figuring out why Steve was calling out for Jarvis. While he was trying to muddle through it, he occupied himself with biting a trail down Steve’s neck and getting his t-shirt out of the way. There was a loud crash somewhere, and then a high wailing sound. Tony looked up, confused, to see red lights flickering over the walls.
Steve grabbed Tony’s face and rolled so that Tony was trapped underneath him. Which was completely okay with Tony. He wrapped his legs around Steve’s hips and pushed upward. Steve’s breath stuttered out of his throat and he dropped his chin toward his chest, pressing down into the cradle of Tony’s hips. They still had clothes on, and it already felt like the best sex they’d ever had.
“Tony.” Steve’s voice was rough. “Tony we were exposed.”
Humming happily, Tony got his hands under Steve’s shirt and spread his fingers across Steve’s ribs. “Not yet we’re not,” he said, and shimmied his hips for punctuation.
Steve groaned lowly in appreciation, and went very still while Tony wiggled under him. Tony felt deliciously relaxed in a way he didn’t think he’d been for years, maybe decades. The muscles along either side of his spine had taken on the approximate consistency of hot wax, and his skin was humming with warmth. He wasn’t even exactly aroused, he just felt so nice.
“Tony,” Steve said on a shaky exhale, “Tony can you pay attention to me for a minute?”
“I always pay attention to you,” Tony pointed out. “Well, except when I’m ignoring you, but even then I’m still paying attention to you. I think I pay more attention to you when I’m ignoring you than when I’m not. It’s just sometimes you make me really angry, Steve, you know? But it’s like you’re my sun sometimes and I can’t help rotating around you –”
A high-pitched not-quite-whine and not-quite-choke caught Tony off guard. He looked up to see Steve trembling, his eyebrows scrunched up and his lips pulled tightly together.
Steve sucked in a ragged breath, and closed his eyes. “We can definitely talk about this later,” he panted, “but right now, I just need you to focus. You were exposed to the chemical we collected from the lab in Embarrass. We were both exposed.”
Tony frowned. His thoughts were sluggish, and he didn’t really want to think anyways, he wanted enjoy how warm and loose he felt. Once he’d noticed the sluggishness, a faint pulse of fear tightened his stomach. Above him, Steve made a noise like a whimper, and his elbows bent and then straightened, as if stopping himself from leaning down. Tony reached up and petted the side of Steve’s face while his thoughts bubbled very slowly to the surface.
“Who named that place Embarrass, anyways?” was the one that made it out first.
Steve started to laugh. It was a rich laugh that came straight from his belly, loud, and bright, and a far cry from the public-appropriate laugh he’d cultivated since his showgirl days. Tony laughed with him, enjoying the way their voices echoed around the lab. He curled up and kissed the underside of Steve’s chin, and then nipped at the delicate skin. Steve stretched his neck up to give Tony better access and practically purred while Tony’s hands roamed under his shirt.
“You have glitter everywhere,” Tony murmured, pulling back to investigate the grit on his fingers.
“It’s not…” Steve leaned down and kissed Tony deeply, his teeth pulling at Tony’s lips, his stubble scrapping across Tony’s cheeks to leave him feeling raw and hot. Steve yanked back abruptly. “Not glitter,” he grunted, but Tony had already forgotten why they were talking about glitter. Steve looked completely debauched, and he had a fine dusting of shimmery white snow in his hair.
Right, glitter.
“We are in so much trouble when Bruce finds out,” Tony observed through a moment of clarity. He lost the train of thought in a rush of giggles when he imagined the Hulk giving them a stern finger-wagging. Which is not at all what would happen, but he couldn’t get the image out of his head, and the Hulk suddenly morphed into a clichéd old librarian with mountains of fluffy white hair and massive cat-eye glasses with beads dangling from the arms.
“Try to get under the chem shower!” someone called through a fog.
Tony twisted around and found Bruce standing at the security door – why was the security door down?
Right. Glitter. Not glitter – embarrassing happy funtime drug from Embarrass.
Tony’s giggles ramped up. “Bruce!” he called loudly. “Bruce, how do you feel about cardigans?”
“I’m a fan, generally,” Bruce answered, but he had that tone in his voice he only got when he was humoring Tony, and it was a very important question.
Steve made slow progress untangling them, which Tony mostly did his best to thwart, while Bruce continued talking. The words floated around Tony’s head like tiny Disney birds, which only made him imagine himself as Aurora, and Steve singing with him in a forest – no, not a forest. A forest wouldn’t do for Tonirora. A junkyard of discarded treasures, and tiny robots for Tony to sing to, and there would be his handsome prince in grease-stained overalls, singing along.
“How do you feel about the greasemonkey look?” Tony asked Steve curiously. Only when he almost pitched onto his face did he realize that Steve had managed to get them to their feet, and that seemed like a shame. Tony considered tripping them back to the floor, but Steve looked so earnest as he navigated them across the sparkling floor.
“I like you in grease,” Steve mumbled, concentrating very hard on his feet. He held one arm out comically for balance, but Tony wasn’t doing much better in the staying-upright department, so he wasn’t about to throw stones.
Dum-E trundled past them with a vacuum, and Tony craned his neck to follow the bot’s progress. Dum-E was not any better at janitoring – janitorizing? – than he was at firefighting. Generally speaking, he was dangerous with anything that had propellant, or a power source.
Steve yanked him around, and they stumbled into the alcove with Tony’s chem shower – which often doubled as his actual shower, because sometimes the 1.9 minute elevator ride to his room was 1.9 minutes too long – and Tony fell against the wall.
“Good idea,” Tony praised, tugging Steve after him. He spread his legs and pulled until Steve’s thigh was tucked between them. He was a good height for rutting, and rutting sounded like fun. Tony held onto his shoulders, rolled his hips up, and fumbled for Steve’s mouth. They kissed desperately, Steve’s mouth hot and slick, and perfect.
Jerking away, Steve gasped out, “Cold.”
“It’s not c-OLD! Fucking fuck!” Tony screamed as freezing water blasted them from three walls and poured down from the ceiling in buckets.
They both ended up scrambled under the jet of icy water, sliding around on the wet tiles and getting hopelessly tangled. Tony slapped at the water lever until it moved out of the emergency setting and started to warm. He tried to escape the shower altogether, but Steve caught him by the waist and held him under the waterfall spray, just barely managing to keep them both upright while Tony did his best impersonation of a pissed off cat.
“The fuck, Steve?” Tony gasped out finally. They had been having such a good time. Sheets of water sluiced over his face and he had to fight not to inhale it while he gulped down lungfuls of frigid, humid air.
“Exposed,” Steve explained breathlessly. “To the… Glitter.”
“Oh,” Tony said. A violent shiver tore up his spine. He sagged in Steve’s arms. “Right. Glitter.”
~*~
Eventually the water heated up enough that they stopped shivering. Exhausted and weak down to his bones, Tony leaned heavily against Steve’s chest, and Steve leaned almost as heavily against the wall. Outside the shower compartment, Dum-E and U trundled around, cleaning up the mess, and Bruce kept up a steady stream of chatter from beyond the security doors. Tony could hear the vents working overtime, but they weren’t really designed for emergency air-cycling on that level. When Tony did chemical work, he usually did it in Bruce’s lab, or under the small hood that was more than adequate for his needs.
As soon as he got into some dry clothing, he was going to rectify the air circulation problem.
“So that was not one of the more intelligent things we’ve ever done,” Tony croaked finally. His throat felt ragged, and it was a chore just to dredge up the energy for speech. So much for being more responsible their erstwhile Supervillain Hopefulls.
“Mmm,” was Steve’s sterling contribution to the conversation. He ran his left hand idly over Tony’s hip, hand catching at the sodden fabric of his jeans on every pass.
Tony fumbled to get his belt undone and let the weight of the soaked denim pull the jeans off his hips. The fabric hit the shower floor with an unpleasant splat, and Tony struggled to get out of the jeans and his shoes simultaneously. Steve peered down at him through partially-lidded eyes.
“Still feeling it?” he asked, but he maneuvered them so he could wedge one shoulder into the corner, and then bent over at the waist, using his weight to keep Tony upright. Even none too steady on his feet, he made an impressive show of his forward fold, and helped Tony get out of his pants.
Making a noncommittal noise, Tony managed to get his shirt over his head and let it join the sodden pile of his jeans and shoes on the floor. He felt instantly lighter and nearly overbalanced, but managed to catch himself on Steve’s back.
“I’m just going to stay down here,” Steve decided, shifting his weight and flopping down to his ass. He let his legs sprawl out in front of him and leaned his head back against the wall. “It has been a very, very long time since I’ve been high,” he said, opening one eye to peer up at Tony through the spray.
Laughing weakly, Tony carefully got himself down to the floor, and very carefully didn’t think about how long it had been since he’d been high. He ended up with his bare legs stretched across Steve’s lap, and didn’t mind at all when Steve started drawing nonsense patterns on Tony’s legs. Steve had been astonished the first time they’d been horizontal and he’d realized that Tony shaved his legs – leg hairs getting caught in the under suit was thirteen thousand kinds of Not Good – but though Tony had expected a bit of teasing for it, Steve had been immediately enamored with his smooth skin. If Tony had ever applied the word ‘worship’ to a sexual encounter before, he’d been dead wrong before that night. His legs had been peppered with marks by the time Steve had turned his attention elsewhere.
“Captain America the druggy, huh?” Tony said after he was sure he could keep his voice steady.
Steve snorted. “Captain America can’t get high even when he wants to. Steve Rogers the little guy with a chronic cough? Definitely addicted to his cough syrup.”
“Looks like we found a way for you to get high,” Tony pointed out, filing away the cough syrup factoid to examine later. There was one tidbit that had never made it to print.
Both of Steve’s eyes opened, and he rolled his head along the tiles so he could see Tony. “You okay?” he asked.
Tony shrugged. “I think so. Happy funtime drug maybe a little scary after all.”
Steve reached over and took his hand. He squeezed reassuringly, and then brought Tony’s fingers up to leave little kisses on his knuckles. Tony managed to get his weight away from the wall and get turned around. He got himself into Steve’s lap with ponderous effort, his balance going haywire like he’d an extra limb for a while, but now it was gone. He settled his weight on Steve’s thighs, curling his shoulders against the spatter of warm droplets, and set a line of gentle kisses across Steve’s forehead.
Closing his eyes, Steve turned his face up, and then stretched his neck invitingly. Tony obliged him with more kisses down his jaw, and a scrape of teeth through his stubble. Just to be obtuse, Tony bit the end of his nose, which netted him a laugh and said nose crinkling up and wiggling back-and-forth.
“Casting a spell?” Tony asked.
Steve started humming the theme to “Bewitched,” and Tony retaliated by biting his ear. Singing briefly derailed by a pleased shudder, Steve twisted and bit into Tony’s neck.
“Okay the… Right.” Bruce disappeared from the open shower door, shutting it behind him. “The water should have neutralized the drug,” he called. “But you two, you know. Have fun. I’m going to come back later. We should do blood tests. Soon, Tony!”
Tony dropped his forehead to Steve’s shoulder and snorted through a laugh. Steve smacked him lightly on the ass in rebuke, but started laughing himself when Tony just responded with a lewd moan. They ended up cuddled on the shower flower, Steve still entirely dressed and Tony in nothing but his socks and boxers, giggling like a pair of kids while Bruce loudly announced that he was leaving the workshop and would be back in exactly seven minutes.
“Ouch. Seven minutes,” Steve complained through the laughter.
Tony tilted his head thoughtfully. “There’s a lot we can do in seven minutes.”
(Your picture was not posted)
Updated by request from @musicalluna. ^_^
There will be one more part to wrap it up! Part one can be found here.
Mind the cut! Despite this being the sex pollen fic, I’ve done my best to make it as non dub-con as the trope can possibly get.
“I think this is the last of it,” Steve said from the hall, carrying in a plastic crate. It bumped against his thighs as he walked, the glass inside tinkling gently. He caught the sliding lab door with one hip and nudged it open further, even though Jarvis would have done it for him if he’d asked.
If it had been anyone else, maybe Tony would have jumped up to help carry the heavy crate, or at least made an effort to direct the placement of said crate. But it wasn’t anyone else – it was Steve, and Steve’s already voluminous chest was puffed up between his biceps, and Tony was more than content to just watch. He propped his elbow up on his workstation and made no secret of his eyes following Steve around the room.
Steve did a very good job of keeping a straight face as he walked three circuits of the space where they’d stacked all the gear from the Embarrass(ment) lab. Just when he’d turned to make a fourth pass around the piles, he lost it and started laughing.
“Where do you want this?” he asked, stopping and turning to look at Tony over his shoulder. It was a good angle for him.
“Oh, feel free to just leave it any old place,” Tony said, flipping a hand negligently. “I don’t think you’ve looked over in that corner yet.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, and gave Steve a bright smile.
Cheeks going a little pink, Steve obligingly hiked the heavy crate up a little further, incidentally doing not unpleasant things to his biceps. Tony tilted his head down so he had a better view of Steve’s ass as he clink-clinked his way past within inches of Tony’s seat. If the years on stage had done nothing else for Steve, it had definitely taught him how to show off his body to advantage when he wanted to.
Unable to resist, Tony reached out and smacked Steve on the ass with quick backhand. He’d moved faster and harder than apparently either of them had expected, because Steve jumped with a startled inhale. As if in slow motion, Tony watched the crate drop out of Steve’s hands. Before even Steve’s reflexes could save it, the crate hit the polished floor on one corner with a tremendous crash. It spilled open to the soundtrack of breaking glass, releasing a cloud of fine white powder like snow.
They both jerked forward on reflex. Tony’s head bumped into Steve’s shoulder, and then started giggling. He felt warm all over. It was so stupid – a pair of world class superheroes who had literally saved the planet more times than all of their phalanges put together, and they couldn’t navigate a dropped box. Steve leaned into him and started laughing too. He dropped to his knees, reaching up to support Tony’s weight only when Tony tilted forward and nearly fell out of his stool.
“Tony,” Steve gasped through his giggles. “Tony, I think… I think something’s wrong.”
Tony dropped to Steve’s shoulders, knocking him down. They fell to the floor in a messy sprawl, Tony kicking the box on the way down. He pressed his face to Steve’s neck and breathed in the earthy, salty scent of him. Steve always smelled like a fresh ocean breeze. Tony licked his neck.
“Tony,” Steve tried again. “Tony! Jarvis!”
Tony was having trouble figuring out why Steve was calling out for Jarvis. While he was trying to muddle through it, he occupied himself with biting a trail down Steve’s neck and getting his t-shirt out of the way. There was a loud crash somewhere, and then a high wailing sound. Tony looked up, confused, to see red lights flickering over the walls.
Steve grabbed Tony’s face and rolled so that Tony was trapped underneath him. Which was completely okay with Tony. He wrapped his legs around Steve’s hips and pushed upward. Steve’s breath stuttered out of his throat and he dropped his chin toward his chest, pressing down into the cradle of Tony’s hips. They still had clothes on, and it already felt like the best sex they’d ever had.
“Tony.” Steve’s voice was rough. “Tony we were exposed.”
Humming happily, Tony got his hands under Steve’s shirt and spread his fingers across Steve’s ribs. “Not yet we’re not,” he said, and shimmied his hips for punctuation.
Steve groaned lowly in appreciation, and went very still while Tony wiggled under him. Tony felt deliciously relaxed in a way he didn’t think he’d been for years, maybe decades. The muscles along either side of his spine had taken on the approximate consistency of hot wax, and his skin was humming with warmth. He wasn’t even exactly aroused, he just felt so nice.
“Tony,” Steve said on a shaky exhale, “Tony can you pay attention to me for a minute?”
“I always pay attention to you,” Tony pointed out. “Well, except when I’m ignoring you, but even then I’m still paying attention to you. I think I pay more attention to you when I’m ignoring you than when I’m not. It’s just sometimes you make me really angry, Steve, you know? But it’s like you’re my sun sometimes and I can’t help rotating around you –”
A high-pitched not-quite-whine and not-quite-choke caught Tony off guard. He looked up to see Steve trembling, his eyebrows scrunched up and his lips pulled tightly together.
Steve sucked in a ragged breath, and closed his eyes. “We can definitely talk about this later,” he panted, “but right now, I just need you to focus. You were exposed to the chemical we collected from the lab in Embarrass. We were both exposed.”
Tony frowned. His thoughts were sluggish, and he didn’t really want to think anyways, he wanted enjoy how warm and loose he felt. Once he’d noticed the sluggishness, a faint pulse of fear tightened his stomach. Above him, Steve made a noise like a whimper, and his elbows bent and then straightened, as if stopping himself from leaning down. Tony reached up and petted the side of Steve’s face while his thoughts bubbled very slowly to the surface.
“Who named that place Embarrass, anyways?” was the one that made it out first.
Steve started to laugh. It was a rich laugh that came straight from his belly, loud, and bright, and a far cry from the public-appropriate laugh he’d cultivated since his showgirl days. Tony laughed with him, enjoying the way their voices echoed around the lab. He curled up and kissed the underside of Steve’s chin, and then nipped at the delicate skin. Steve stretched his neck up to give Tony better access and practically purred while Tony’s hands roamed under his shirt.
“You have glitter everywhere,” Tony murmured, pulling back to investigate the grit on his fingers.
“It’s not…” Steve leaned down and kissed Tony deeply, his teeth pulling at Tony’s lips, his stubble scrapping across Tony’s cheeks to leave him feeling raw and hot. Steve yanked back abruptly. “Not glitter,” he grunted, but Tony had already forgotten why they were talking about glitter. Steve looked completely debauched, and he had a fine dusting of shimmery white snow in his hair.
Right, glitter.
“We are in so much trouble when Bruce finds out,” Tony observed through a moment of clarity. He lost the train of thought in a rush of giggles when he imagined the Hulk giving them a stern finger-wagging. Which is not at all what would happen, but he couldn’t get the image out of his head, and the Hulk suddenly morphed into a clichéd old librarian with mountains of fluffy white hair and massive cat-eye glasses with beads dangling from the arms.
“Try to get under the chem shower!” someone called through a fog.
Tony twisted around and found Bruce standing at the security door – why was the security door down?
Right. Glitter. Not glitter – embarrassing happy funtime drug from Embarrass.
Tony’s giggles ramped up. “Bruce!” he called loudly. “Bruce, how do you feel about cardigans?”
“I’m a fan, generally,” Bruce answered, but he had that tone in his voice he only got when he was humoring Tony, and it was a very important question.
Steve made slow progress untangling them, which Tony mostly did his best to thwart, while Bruce continued talking. The words floated around Tony’s head like tiny Disney birds, which only made him imagine himself as Aurora, and Steve singing with him in a forest – no, not a forest. A forest wouldn’t do for Tonirora. A junkyard of discarded treasures, and tiny robots for Tony to sing to, and there would be his handsome prince in grease-stained overalls, singing along.
“How do you feel about the greasemonkey look?” Tony asked Steve curiously. Only when he almost pitched onto his face did he realize that Steve had managed to get them to their feet, and that seemed like a shame. Tony considered tripping them back to the floor, but Steve looked so earnest as he navigated them across the sparkling floor.
“I like you in grease,” Steve mumbled, concentrating very hard on his feet. He held one arm out comically for balance, but Tony wasn’t doing much better in the staying-upright department, so he wasn’t about to throw stones.
Dum-E trundled past them with a vacuum, and Tony craned his neck to follow the bot’s progress. Dum-E was not any better at janitoring – janitorizing? – than he was at firefighting. Generally speaking, he was dangerous with anything that had propellant, or a power source.
Steve yanked him around, and they stumbled into the alcove with Tony’s chem shower – which often doubled as his actual shower, because sometimes the 1.9 minute elevator ride to his room was 1.9 minutes too long – and Tony fell against the wall.
“Good idea,” Tony praised, tugging Steve after him. He spread his legs and pulled until Steve’s thigh was tucked between them. He was a good height for rutting, and rutting sounded like fun. Tony held onto his shoulders, rolled his hips up, and fumbled for Steve’s mouth. They kissed desperately, Steve’s mouth hot and slick, and perfect.
Jerking away, Steve gasped out, “Cold.”
“It’s not c-OLD! Fucking fuck!” Tony screamed as freezing water blasted them from three walls and poured down from the ceiling in buckets.
They both ended up scrambled under the jet of icy water, sliding around on the wet tiles and getting hopelessly tangled. Tony slapped at the water lever until it moved out of the emergency setting and started to warm. He tried to escape the shower altogether, but Steve caught him by the waist and held him under the waterfall spray, just barely managing to keep them both upright while Tony did his best impersonation of a pissed off cat.
“The fuck, Steve?” Tony gasped out finally. They had been having such a good time. Sheets of water sluiced over his face and he had to fight not to inhale it while he gulped down lungfuls of frigid, humid air.
“Exposed,” Steve explained breathlessly. “To the… Glitter.”
“Oh,” Tony said. A violent shiver tore up his spine. He sagged in Steve’s arms. “Right. Glitter.”
~*~
Eventually the water heated up enough that they stopped shivering. Exhausted and weak down to his bones, Tony leaned heavily against Steve’s chest, and Steve leaned almost as heavily against the wall. Outside the shower compartment, Dum-E and U trundled around, cleaning up the mess, and Bruce kept up a steady stream of chatter from beyond the security doors. Tony could hear the vents working overtime, but they weren’t really designed for emergency air-cycling on that level. When Tony did chemical work, he usually did it in Bruce’s lab, or under the small hood that was more than adequate for his needs.
As soon as he got into some dry clothing, he was going to rectify the air circulation problem.
“So that was not one of the more intelligent things we’ve ever done,” Tony croaked finally. His throat felt ragged, and it was a chore just to dredge up the energy for speech. So much for being more responsible their erstwhile Supervillain Hopefulls.
“Mmm,” was Steve’s sterling contribution to the conversation. He ran his left hand idly over Tony’s hip, hand catching at the sodden fabric of his jeans on every pass.
Tony fumbled to get his belt undone and let the weight of the soaked denim pull the jeans off his hips. The fabric hit the shower floor with an unpleasant splat, and Tony struggled to get out of the jeans and his shoes simultaneously. Steve peered down at him through partially-lidded eyes.
“Still feeling it?” he asked, but he maneuvered them so he could wedge one shoulder into the corner, and then bent over at the waist, using his weight to keep Tony upright. Even none too steady on his feet, he made an impressive show of his forward fold, and helped Tony get out of his pants.
Making a noncommittal noise, Tony managed to get his shirt over his head and let it join the sodden pile of his jeans and shoes on the floor. He felt instantly lighter and nearly overbalanced, but managed to catch himself on Steve’s back.
“I’m just going to stay down here,” Steve decided, shifting his weight and flopping down to his ass. He let his legs sprawl out in front of him and leaned his head back against the wall. “It has been a very, very long time since I’ve been high,” he said, opening one eye to peer up at Tony through the spray.
Laughing weakly, Tony carefully got himself down to the floor, and very carefully didn’t think about how long it had been since he’d been high. He ended up with his bare legs stretched across Steve’s lap, and didn’t mind at all when Steve started drawing nonsense patterns on Tony’s legs. Steve had been astonished the first time they’d been horizontal and he’d realized that Tony shaved his legs – leg hairs getting caught in the under suit was thirteen thousand kinds of Not Good – but though Tony had expected a bit of teasing for it, Steve had been immediately enamored with his smooth skin. If Tony had ever applied the word ‘worship’ to a sexual encounter before, he’d been dead wrong before that night. His legs had been peppered with marks by the time Steve had turned his attention elsewhere.
“Captain America the druggy, huh?” Tony said after he was sure he could keep his voice steady.
Steve snorted. “Captain America can’t get high even when he wants to. Steve Rogers the little guy with a chronic cough? Definitely addicted to his cough syrup.”
“Looks like we found a way for you to get high,” Tony pointed out, filing away the cough syrup factoid to examine later. There was one tidbit that had never made it to print.
Both of Steve’s eyes opened, and he rolled his head along the tiles so he could see Tony. “You okay?” he asked.
Tony shrugged. “I think so. Happy funtime drug maybe a little scary after all.”
Steve reached over and took his hand. He squeezed reassuringly, and then brought Tony’s fingers up to leave little kisses on his knuckles. Tony managed to get his weight away from the wall and get turned around. He got himself into Steve’s lap with ponderous effort, his balance going haywire like he’d an extra limb for a while, but now it was gone. He settled his weight on Steve’s thighs, curling his shoulders against the spatter of warm droplets, and set a line of gentle kisses across Steve’s forehead.
Closing his eyes, Steve turned his face up, and then stretched his neck invitingly. Tony obliged him with more kisses down his jaw, and a scrape of teeth through his stubble. Just to be obtuse, Tony bit the end of his nose, which netted him a laugh and said nose crinkling up and wiggling back-and-forth.
“Casting a spell?” Tony asked.
Steve started humming the theme to “Bewitched,” and Tony retaliated by biting his ear. Singing briefly derailed by a pleased shudder, Steve twisted and bit into Tony’s neck.
“Okay the… Right.” Bruce disappeared from the open shower door, shutting it behind him. “The water should have neutralized the drug,” he called. “But you two, you know. Have fun. I’m going to come back later. We should do blood tests. Soon, Tony!”
Tony dropped his forehead to Steve’s shoulder and snorted through a laugh. Steve smacked him lightly on the ass in rebuke, but started laughing himself when Tony just responded with a lewd moan. They ended up cuddled on the shower flower, Steve still entirely dressed and Tony in nothing but his socks and boxers, giggling like a pair of kids while Bruce loudly announced that he was leaving the workshop and would be back in exactly seven minutes.
“Ouch. Seven minutes,” Steve complained through the laughter.
Tony tilted his head thoughtfully. “There’s a lot we can do in seven minutes.”
(Your picture was not posted)