Steve never knew how sensitive his waist could be until he feels Tony's fingers there, and the near-gasp he reflexively inhales is almost enough to make him break their kiss. It surprises him too, how much he likes the way Tony is grasping his shirt, and how much it makes his body inch towards that touch.
Then he hears that moan come up from Tony's throat and he can't help but feel a certain sense of pride he's never had before. When it comes to first times, it's not just about what Steve has never done. It's also about what he's never gotten other people to do. He's made thousands of people gasp and cheer and clap, but he's never made anyone moan. At least, not that he knows about.
Tony's leg interweaves them further and Steve feels the way Tony's lips react to the way he's prompting them, and part of him just wants to do this forever. Like a kid at sixteen who's just had his first real make-out session, Steve is starting to understand why people do this and never seem to want to stop. Everything feels so perfect and right and-
Natural. He wants to think it feels natural, but as soon as he does, a pang of guilt bubbles up inside his chest, like his feelings aren't valid, or that he has no right to feel this way. Like he's doing something that he should feel ashamed of. That he's doing something wrong. But even if it causes Steve to hesitate, he doesn't stop kissing Tony, or holding onto him so desperately. That sense of what is or isn't natural has been so pounded into him that Steve isn't sure if that feeling will ever go away — he hopes that one day, it will — but right now, he stubbornly refuses to let it ruin this.
He loves Tony. He knows that now. Falling in love has become fallen in love, and he refuses to let his past take that away from him. Not this time. Not right now.
You could almost see it as an act of rebellion then, when as they kiss, Steve finds his left hand letting go of Tony's shirt and traveling down to his waist. Cautiously, tentatively, slowly, Steve's fingers trace just beneath the hemline, his fingertips as soft and light against Tony's skin as the cotton fabric itself. In the next second, he pulls the bottom of the shirt up a few inches — just far enough for Steve to slide his entire hand beneath it and onto Tony's skin.
He runs out of breath though and his heart is starting to pound even harder than before, so as the warmth of Steve's hand begins to spread itself around Tony's side, Steve lifts his lips off of Tony's, just for a minute. Just so they can catch their breath, even if what Steve's doing simultaneously ... seems to only make him want to breathe heavier.
no subject
Then he hears that moan come up from Tony's throat and he can't help but feel a certain sense of pride he's never had before. When it comes to first times, it's not just about what Steve has never done. It's also about what he's never gotten other people to do. He's made thousands of people gasp and cheer and clap, but he's never made anyone moan. At least, not that he knows about.
Tony's leg interweaves them further and Steve feels the way Tony's lips react to the way he's prompting them, and part of him just wants to do this forever. Like a kid at sixteen who's just had his first real make-out session, Steve is starting to understand why people do this and never seem to want to stop. Everything feels so perfect and right and-
Natural. He wants to think it feels natural, but as soon as he does, a pang of guilt bubbles up inside his chest, like his feelings aren't valid, or that he has no right to feel this way. Like he's doing something that he should feel ashamed of. That he's doing something wrong. But even if it causes Steve to hesitate, he doesn't stop kissing Tony, or holding onto him so desperately. That sense of what is or isn't natural has been so pounded into him that Steve isn't sure if that feeling will ever go away — he hopes that one day, it will — but right now, he stubbornly refuses to let it ruin this.
He loves Tony. He knows that now. Falling in love has become fallen in love, and he refuses to let his past take that away from him. Not this time. Not right now.
You could almost see it as an act of rebellion then, when as they kiss, Steve finds his left hand letting go of Tony's shirt and traveling down to his waist. Cautiously, tentatively, slowly, Steve's fingers trace just beneath the hemline, his fingertips as soft and light against Tony's skin as the cotton fabric itself. In the next second, he pulls the bottom of the shirt up a few inches — just far enough for Steve to slide his entire hand beneath it and onto Tony's skin.
He runs out of breath though and his heart is starting to pound even harder than before, so as the warmth of Steve's hand begins to spread itself around Tony's side, Steve lifts his lips off of Tony's, just for a minute. Just so they can catch their breath, even if what Steve's doing simultaneously ... seems to only make him want to breathe heavier.