Nightmares and Daydreams

[justabrooklynboy]

Maybe it's because of the ocean sounds that Steve just can't sleep soundly.

He's usually quite good at staying over in unfamiliar places, relaxing in even the most uncomfortable conditions, but tonight his usual ease is elusive. He lays awake past midnight listening to the settling of the house, to the waves and the dull sound of the girls watching a movie elsewhere in the house, of Tony working on something instead of sleeping across the hall.

He tries counting, measured breathing, lying in different positions, tossing away his pillow and then adding an extra one. Nothing helps so he sprawls onto his stomach again and tries to push aside the lousy over-stuffed feeling in his brain. Staring into the wall, the weight of a long day pulling at his body, he does finally become bored and exhausted enough to drift off, but his dozing isn't very restful.

He's always a breath away from waking, the faintest noise disrupting him, or worse, nosing it's way into his awareness without fully rousing him. He lays a while in this fitful state of exhaustion warring with hyper awareness, drifting between awake and dreaming, before the movie ends, the ocean calms, Tony crawls in to sleep, and finally, finally, it's quiet enough for Steve to fall deeply into rest.

He's out perhaps an hour before the nightmare starts.

It's a familiar moment, one he's relived more than enough times already, but every once in a while when something else is bothering him that old wound aches like new and this is what he sees when he closes his eyes. Bucky slipping away from him, Bucky shrinking smaller as he falls...

Steve's motions feel sluggish, weak, too slow, and it seems that his friend's fingers slip from his grip faster than ever...

There's a stab of pain in his wrist, a jolt as his side smacks into something hard, and Steve wakes up shouting on the floor beside his bed, surrounded by the wreckage of his toppled side table and broken lamp.

Comments

[starkingenuity]

"How do you get to know someone that only wants your money?" Same problem, different situations. No one wants Tony for Tony. Not even Pepper. He's never not been famous. He's never been a puny orphan boy with no future so he really doesn't know what normalcy feels like.

And he also has never really learned boundaries. Tony sees, wants, takes. That's it.

"I don't know you at all," Tony confesses, still drunk but not drunk enough to wobble any more. He's brushed away the taste and smell of hard liquor. It's still there, it lingers, of course it does. And Steve will smell it when Tony pushes him down to sit on his bed and climbs onto his lap to straddle him. "Guess that makes me special."

[justabrooklynboy]

Steve settles back on the bed with a thump, reaching up to grasp Tony's shoulders when the other man settles all over his lap. Suddenly all he can smell is scotch on Tony's beard and the spearmint burn of toothpaste on his breath. Stark's collarbones, the soft blue glow of the arc, eclipse his view.

"That's bullshit. You know me better than most people by now."

His voice is a little strangled, alarm and confusion rushing up to meet each other as Tony's breath ghosts over his face. He feels vaguely like he should be mad about Tony imposing himself into his personal space but instead worry is the emotion that takes root.

Worry because he can still smell the scotch and see the slight haze in the other man's eyes. Worry because Tony getting up close and personal with him usually only happens when they're both asleep, or when Tony is sober enough to drink in his discomfort and amuse himself with it. Though it'd been weeks since he's done that...

"Stark?" Steve asks, pushing a bit at Tony's shoulders, looking up from the chest that's in his line of sight and taking in the arc-lit face looking down on him. Steve's mouth feels abruptly dry and that worries him more than the scotch and the timing combined.

"What are you doing?"

[starkingenuity]

"Really good question, and I'm glad that you asked." Tony's shoulder has been pushed away but that doesn't mean that his hips had. On the contrary. Tony has something new to press against and none of that is exactly kosher for the God-fearing, baseball loving, apple eating American. Really, can Steve get any more patriotic?

The thought is fleeting but it does make him laugh as he touches the blond's jaw with wide fingers. The angle is lovely, perfect even. And though Tony's hands are rough, the hands of an engineer, a blacksmith, he knows how to be gentle.

"I'm not sure. Something stupid. I get to be stupid sometimes," he murmurs, dipping his head to brush his lips against Steve's should the blond be too surprised to pull away.

[justabrooklynboy]

That's when panic hits in force, when Tony's weight settles just right across his lap, when the rough brush of his beard is against Steve's chin, and the arousal that jolts like lightning down his spine stokes his worry into full on fear.

Something's happening here that Steve feels powerless to stop, like a train wreck he can't peel his eyes from, like the knot that gathers in his stomach just before he gets sick.

'Something stupid' Tony had said with warm breath on Steve's face and deft fingers playing along his jaw.

Steve's mouth is dry as sand, his body feels flush with heat. He doesn't know what to do with Tony's unsteady weight on his lap or what to say about the way his hands curl appreciatively around the firm lines of Stark's biceps when the other man leans closer.

He's got amazing arms, amazing hands. Steve could draw them for hours, mapping the lines, the bunch of muscles, the just-so tilt of Tony's wrists...

He HAS drawn them for hours come to think of it.

Maybe that was a sign that would have been worth picking up on before Stark was in his lap being warm and inviting and... damn it.

One large hand slides up from Tony's shoulder, fingers threading into fine dark hair, and Steve pulls him in to kiss him hard.

[starkingenuity]

Having braced himself for the inevitable fall backwards, to suddenly be pulled in towards the blond sets him a bit more precarious situation. Steve Rogers is kissing him, which as a small miracle in itself, ought to be picked at and revealed a strand at a time like any fine particle or machine.

Firstly: his warmth. Steve is a good bit warmer than most people, his core temperature runs hot from an over active metabolism. That makes his mouth like a sauna. Well, a dry sauna. Tony works to change that, bearing in on the other man.

The feel of his lips are silky, like a woman's lips. Men don't really do much maintenance on their mouths, maybe a little chapstick here or there, so they're usually rough. But not Steve. Tony enjoys flicking his tongue against them, for more than just the way it makes Steve exhale.

Hands. Yes, let's move onto hands. Strong and sure, they lead even as Steve does. The man's earned his rank and it shows in not only the way he carries himself, but in the way he holds other people. His team, for instance. And, less metaphorically, Tony right this instant. Hands that can appreciate and can protect and are so expressive with pastel or charcoal-- These are Steve's, an extension of who he is as a person.

And finally, the body.

Tony's jealous of that body. Even as he presses against it, even as he feels muscles working to envelop him, he has to conquer this urge to run his tongue across every taut, details like that makes Steve up.

Later. Later.

And he's sure there will be ample time. People doesn't kiss other people like this unless it's going somewhere. Tony shifts his hips inward and digs in the toes of one foot against the sheets as his knee and thigh press against the blond's ribs.

[justabrooklynboy]

It's completely, jarringly different kissing a man; the scrape of Tony's stubble and the shape of his lips are alien. But Steve enjoys them and realizing it riles up a whole new panic that he's just too distracted to deal with. Tony's hands skim his chest and shoulders, his tongue darting in and drawing a groan out of him. His other hand drags, shaking, up Tony's spine, bandaged palm tracing the skin over his shoulder blades.

Tony is by no means a small person but Steve is more than capable of overpowering him entirely. Tumbling them over on the mattress and leaving Stark spread beneath him on the covers is easy, and seems in the moment a rational change of pace.

He regrets it immediately. Peering down at Tony sprawled beneath him with the half-aware haze of alcohol and libido in his eyes shatters Steve's focus and brings guilt crashing over him like a wave.

He curses, pushes himself back and off the bed, kneeling at the edge of the mattress and clawing a hand through his hair, chest heaving as he sucks desperate breaths. He drops a self-conscious hand to the bulge in his sleep pants, groaning at the thought of the cold shower he's going to end up going straight the hell into...

"No. No no - you're too - I mean I'm not - " He can barely make a sentence, Jesus Christ... "I can't do this."

[starkingenuity]

In Tony's wildest dreams, and trust me on this, they've been pretty wild lately where Steve's concerned, he never imagined Steve actually being into it.

No, no. Really into it. The feel of that body pressed against him is almost too much. It's not just Steve's solid weight, it's the realization that he's into it too. You can't fake an erection after all.

Lifting his head and shoulders off of the bed to clamp his mouth to Steve's throat is followed directly by a sudden absense of Steve at all and--

I can't do this. Instinct tells Tony to pull him back, to tell him that it's fine, but respect for the blond keeps him laying there long after Steve leaves the room.

Tony traces his lower lip with his finger and stares at the shadows on the ceiling of trees swaying in the late night ocean breeze.

He lets his own arousal cool naturally and allows the alcohol to just let him pass out. He'll deal with this in the morning.

augh, sorry, chores attacked

[justabrooklynboy]

Tony doesn't protest, doesn't grab for him, doesn't make Steve's leaving any more painful then it needs to be and he's grateful for it. He goes right down the hall for the spare bedroom, the one that doesn't have his stuff in it or a broken lamp on the floor...

He cranks the shower as cold as it will go and stands under the spray until it hurts his skin and his teeth chatter. He wants to douse the heat of touching Tony skin to skin and distract himself from the gnawing shame that's digging into the back of his skull.

He flops face down on the spare bed twenty minutes later with a splitting headache, feeling more tired than has in years and years. Sleep doesn't come quick, but he passes the last few hours until dawn in a haze, trying to think of what he's going to say when he has to venture out for food.

He solves the problem by passing out near dawn and sleeping through breakfast...


The next time he sees Tony he finally comes down to the kitchen after sleeping in the guestroom and then restlessly fussing with things and trying to draw in his actual room until almost 4pm.

Steve had hoped against hope to avoid him a little longer, really, but it seems that Stark has found a kitchen project. The expensive fancy coffeemaker is in at least a hundred pieces on the table...

Steve stops, hovering in the doorway and watching Tony quietly, hesitant to invade the kitchen but not wanting to outright walk away in case the other man expected the apology he was owed.

[starkingenuity]

He's already decided to play it straight. Having not seen Steve around all day has pretty much reminded him of how royally he had fucked up last night. Leading the man on, taking advantage of some fraying hormones...

Not cool.

Tony's never really regretted anything in his life. Until now at least.

He glances up at the shadow spilling across the floor and tilts the corner of his mouth with half a smirk and more than a little self depreciation.

"If you want coffee, you'll have to go with instant. I'll be...uh...another two hours."

[justabrooklynboy]

"No no, I'm fine, I can have something else."

Steve clears his throat awkwardly as he ventures into the kitchen, crossing to the fridge and pulling out the jug of milk. He pulls down a glass, focuses with abnormal intensity on his pouring.

By the time the milk is back in the fridge he can tell he'll never to able to live with the silence. Two minutes has been too much...

"I'm sorry about last night."

He leans on the counter, looking down into his glass to avoid meeting Tony's eyes.

[starkingenuity]

Should have known. He'd have ignored it, pretended it never happened, but Steve? Steve's a good boy. Sweet. He'd never be able to let it go. Not Captain Morality here. Tony doesn't look up for several very long seconds before he sets aside his soldering gun and leans back against the chair.

He even slips off a glove to thread his fingers through his hair, ruffling up what already looks like sex hair. Tony hasn't combed it today. He slept most of the morning away, went swimming, and after his second shower, he'd not bothered to clean up too much.

Maybe just because he knew that Steve would look...perfect.

Too perfect.

His eyes wander a bit without much care.

"You got scared. You ran. It's fine."

[justabrooklynboy]

"No I mean... I shouldn't even have started it."

Steve shook his head, tilting his glass to swirl his milk and fighting down the blush that was crawling up to claim neck and ears.

"You were drunk and I knew that and when you got all up in my lap I just went with it when I knew better. That isn't... that's not me. Taking advantage of somebody like that isn't me. I couldn't have lived with it."

Steve can't say nothing, but he's content to dance around that other part of it. The only thing that can be said about that amounts to 'I just never realized I wanted you until right then and I didn't know what to do about it' which sounds so... juvenile.

[starkingenuity]

Okay, so not only is Steve not just going with it or denying his attraction or any of that, he's trying to be chivalrous?

How in the hell does this make any sense? Tony sets his cheek in his bare palm and frowns in contemplation, taking in everything that Steve is from the blush of his ears to the curve of his neck.

"Small note: Drunk is my general state of being." More or less. Tony has been a functioning alcoholic for awhile now. That Steve should be so concerned about taking advantage--

It's laughable. So Tony laughs.

"I thought I was taking advantage of you."

[justabrooklynboy]

"Yeah, so I've noticed," He frowned, shifting his stance. "But you have degrees of sobriety."

That laugh finally brings his gaze up though, a bit of surprise in his face.

"I could have stopped you if I had to... wanted to..."

He flushes even darker at spitting that out and rubs at his face, raking a hand back through his hair.

"I always thought you were interested in women."

[starkingenuity]

Steve's right about being able to stop Tony. The man flipped him like he was made of cotton products and air. Startling, but still very sexy actually. Tony sits back and slowly, very slowly removes the glove from his other hand and sets it aside. It's a little like stripping when one takes the time to do it 'right.'

Only after his hands are naked does Tony glance up again at Steve. Contemplating.

"I'm interested in people that are interesting. I happen to find a good set of breasts interesting." And Steve? Steve is painfully interesting too. But it wasn't really Cap's body he noticed first.

That's what's disturbing about the whole thing.

"You're from the forties. Shouldn't you be homophobic?"

Well, it's a pertinent issue!

[justabrooklynboy]

"I don't care what another man does in private unless he's hurting someone. People take love where they can find it and that's not my business." He shrugs, avoiding Tony's gaze.

"You grow up where I grew up and you saw what happened to people who were outed. I'm sure you're educated enough to know it wasn't pretty. I don't care what you live like, nobody deserves the kind of things that happened to those people. It's not for me to tell others how to live, anyway."

He finishes off his milk and sets it aside, crossing his arms instead and trying not to fixate on Tony's hands. He fails spectacularly.

"Besides, I understand homophobia isn't really the popular attitude these days."

At least he can pull of a touch of sarcasm still.

[starkingenuity]

"Depends which end of the religious spectrum you're on." Steve's staring. At him. At his hands. And Tony knows this because he's been playing with him, moving his fingers around, touching his cheek, spreading fingers out on the solid oak table. That's pretty amusing because, let's face it, Tony's got some pretty masculine hands. There's really no part of him that speaks 'woman' so having Steve be honest to god interested is...

Crazy. Wonderful. He pushes himself up from the table and slips his hands into the pockets of his jeans, the reactor shining dimly through his t-shirt.

He doesn't approach, not really. He sort of side steps towards the counter, keeping the same distance between himself and the pretty blond. Pretty. He can't help but see him that way. Pretty and hypermasculine. All at the same time.

"So what? Are you just curious?"

[justabrooklynboy]

"I don't know. Is that a thing I can be? Just curious?"

Steve sighs, tearing his gaze off of Tony's shifting fingers to push the heel of his hand into the ache building above his left eye.

"I never thought about it before. But then I've never been a position where what I did yesterday was even vaguely socially acceptable before so..."

"I guess maybe I was curious?" - all the drawings, all the time spent, would suggest it - "It just never even crossed my mind until you were already in my lap that it was... that kind of curious."

[starkingenuity]

"What are you going to do about it?"

The whole push Steve into bed and have his way with him thing? That didn't work last time. Tony follows but he never chases and to suggest it again would go against absolutely everything he has ever been or wanted to be.

It's turned into a nightmare. Wanting Steve always pretty much promised to be a nightmare though. But that was before he kissed back.

Tony's in trouble and aiming for a repeat offense.

How stupid can a man really be?

He tilts his head down and looks up through his eyelashes at Steve.

It can't go on like this. It either happens or Steve says it won't and Tony can move on. This limbo aches.

[justabrooklynboy]

Steve swallows hard, audibly, compelled to meet Tony's gaze, feeling the same knot of anticipation coil tight in his gut.

"I dunno."

He knows what he wants to do, what he'd like to think Tony is implying he can ask for. It's hard not to infer SOMETHING from that look, the lowered lashes, the faint pull of a curious smile at the corner of Tony's mouth.

And now he's staring at his mouth, fixated again on a whole new part of Tony, feeling the disorienting rush of anxiety and desire clawing at each other for space in his chest.

There, for the first time, he draws a comparison to Peggy and the nervous flutter he felt when she'd look over at him from beneath her bangs and he felt he'd had a glimpse of Peggy the lady beneath Peggy the officer. There was something in the gentle curve of her smile that just made him feel light and warm.

There's something in the quirk of Tony's lip, and the spark in his eyes that makes Steve feel just like that all over again.

The 'flutter' is more of a 'thrash' now, but Tony makes him more anxious than Peggy ever did just by virtue of being who he is...

"I guess I'm open to suggestions."

[starkingenuity]

Tony does better when he's in charge. He's just not a good leader for anyone but himself. Steve is the heart. Tony is the brain. And while the heart wants what's best for everyone, the brain is only looking out for himself. At least Tony knows all about his short comings when it comes to that. He hardly minds sharing his own self conclusion too.

Tony turns on his heels and shrugs, the move meant to either aggravate Steve or entice him. "I'm pretty bad at trying to teach but you seem to pick things up naturally. C'mon before I get caught leaving junk around by my hard working staff."

Yes, it's Tony's bedroom again, but Tony isn't rushing to get Steve into bed. Instead, he heads out onto the balcony.

It's more private.

"If you're going to push me away again, I'm not trying any more." Steve's already wormed his way in, though. Tony's making efforts and concessions already.

[justabrooklynboy]

"Not sure I'd have pushed you away the first time if I'd thought we were in our right heads."

He follows Tony down the hall and then out to the balcony, hands stuffed in his jeans pockets, watching the other man move as they head through the halls.

The light is all different on the balcony and Steve steps up to the rail to lean on it, taking in the view for a long moment before his eyes stray back to Tony.

[starkingenuity]

Tony arches an eyebrow back at Steve as he leans one elbow on the railing. His smile is a little warmer than usual, though he'd never admit to feeling any sort of affection for anyone. 

Desire?  Yes. Respect, even?  Sure. But affection?  For Steve Rogers. 

"Are you in your right head now?"

He doesn't need this to end in sex. He was having a pretty good time making out. 

[justabrooklynboy]

"As much as I can be, I'd say."

He nods, turning to put his back to the rail and conscientiously trying not to cross his arms as is his usual instinct. He doesn't want to come off defensive, and keeps his thumbs hooked in his pockets.

He takes in Tony's posture, the warmth in his smile, and can't help smiling a little back.

[starkingenuity]

"Good."

He means it, too. Standing up straight doesn't really increase his height enough to tower over Steve as he might like to, but it's all right. He's gotten over the fact that the twenty-four year old soldier is just more physically impressive than he is.

Except, perhaps, for his hands.

Tony holds his own out and when Steve takes it -- or he takes it for the blond -- he weighs and examines the digits lightly pressing against his own before he tugs it, arm and all, around his waist. A kiss like this is not as sexy as one given while crawling all over each other, but it's probably a little more Steve's speed.

The man will have to learn to appreciate Tony's lack of restraint another time.

and then finally I tagged you back like a snail-boss

[justabrooklynboy]

It's still different, the firm pressure of Tony's mouth and the bristle of his beard strange, not sensations Steve ever expected to come coupled with a kiss in his lifetime.

But it's far from unpleasant, and Steve tries to force himself to relax about it, to remind himself that liking this is alright, that DOING this is alright, and that even if it wasn't no one is here to judge him for it but Tony and maybe Jarvis...

The slower pace DOES suit him though and he sighs as Tony's fingers find purchase on his shoulder, his arm settled around the other man's waist coiling tighter to press him close. Steve's head tilts to slant their mouths together, deepening their kiss with a testing nip of Tony's lower lip between his teeth.

Steve doesn't really KNOW what he's doing, but being willing to take risks has rarely steered him wrong, especially where Tony is concerned....

[starkingenuity]

Okay. Breathe. It's easier when he's drunk. He doesn't need a game plan then. He doesn't have to spend his time kissing when he wants to shove his hands into Captain America's pants. He might be complicated. His mind might move in mysterious ways, but in the end, Tony is just a man.

Just a man that needs what all men need.

Someone else.

He's on his heels again, stepping back, his arms leaving their high up position around Steve's shoulders. He looks back out over the ocean. He clears his throat.

"What do you want?"

Countless hours drawing him. Comforting him. Sharing moments like fire walks and glass pathways with him. They have a history. Tony wants to tear his hair out about it sometimes. But he's so alone, even with Steve Rogers so close to him.

He makes Tony realize how lonely he is.

[justabrooklynboy]

Steve leans after him as he steps away but doesn't cling, parting from Tony still half in the haze of that kiss. His gaze lingers on Tony's face, his lips, bright eyes, dark lashes and bangs... no no. No staring, focus.

The question posed to him is too broad for his momentarily narrowed scope and it takes him a second to come up with anything resembling a good answer.

"Right now? Could go for more of that." He brings one large hand up to wrap around Tony's jaw. "Later? I don't know..."

[starkingenuity]

Getting someone drunk on his kisses? Okay, score one for Tony Stark. That's gotta go down in a book somewhere. It needs to be in writing. He's a little surprised to have Steve pursue him actually. The hand on his chin. The dilated eyes--

This is vacation, right? Last weekend of the season. Aren't they suppose to have fun on vacation?

"Let me know when you figure it out," he breathes, spending the better part of an hour like a teenager, wrapped up in the ocean breeze and a pretty blond sucking face until his lips are bruised.

That, and nothing more.

And it's delicious. Okay, and just a little sticky too.