No soldier stays innocent for long. It's having been two steps behind society that's given Tony the wrong impression. The cocktail server's skirt is about five inches shorter than what he'd consider decent and these days you could hope for a home run instead of night after night of heavy petting, but Steve's less concerned about her hem than he is about the way Tony uses her to try and get him hot under the collar.
Tony's gaze follows her slow saunter out. "I think you're blushing," he says, as they're left alone again with relative privacy. He's sitting in his chair as low as the lights are, his elbow propped casually on the padded arm. His hand lingers near the popped button of his shirt, drifting against the starched white of the collar like a woman might finger a necklace to draw a man's eye.
"And you're flirting," Steve responds, calling a spade a spade. If Tony's allowed to steer the conversation like they're in a boardroom, he'll be nothing but squirrely. Already he's been doing a fair job at working to get Steve off-balance and willing to agree to things he never saw coming. Times may change, but businessmen don't.
"Offended? Was I being a little too forward?" Tony's glass hovers near his mouth, teasing Steve with the notion that a lick to the rim is coming. He smiles briefly and takes a swallow instead. The bob of his throat is mesmerizing. "My chips are on not forward enough."
It clicks then that Tony has an inkling as to what's going on in Steve's head and that both of them playing the same game made things far more entertaining than Tony doing all the work moving the pieces around. If Steve didn't always understand what made Tony tick, this gave him a clue. He knows that I know that he knows and that's been the point all along. An honest to goodness flush heats his ears and he plays it up. Ducking his head slightly and casting his eyes away to where he could watch Tony's response in the reflection of the glass, Steve rubs at the back of his neck. The silence stretches and his heart rate raises. Tony seems nonplussed but the slight adrenaline tremble of a fingertip gives him away. "I don't believe you could be more forward than that," Steve says, not believing a single word.
The taunt cloaked in an admonishment works like a charm and Tony's eyes stay on him like a predator, hooded and seemingly lazy. "Good for us the walls can't talk," Tony says, giving as good as he got. The room shrinks around them, leaving Steve feeling too big for his chair let alone his skin. A heady rush of blood dizzies him as Tony tugs two more buttons loose and stands. The front of his shirt gapes as he plunks his hands down boldly on the arms of Steve's chair. "How's this?"
Steve forces himself to remain still, giving in only to a slight shift that brings his leg in jolting contact with Tony's. He draws a deep breath, sensing that the thrill of the chase was getting to Tony more so than ever before. And fair enough as they'd never let the sparks fly quite as high as now. For a moment Steve reflects on how much the current generation takes sex for granted and how lucky it made him that he can give a man like Tony Stark a lesson in the rewards of self-control. "Tony..." he says, a hundred things packed into the syllables gusting out on the last of his air.
"Just insist the lights be off and the door locked, otherwise I'm going to have my way with you right here and now, Captain."
The flirting and the blatant invitation Steve can take in stride, but that Tony might honestly believe he'd besmirch his reputation and risk being a tabloid headline is approaching the line. "Now you have me approaching offended."
The heat that crackles between them is better than the promise of the kiss that dangles so clearly within reach. Tony doesn't suppress a full body shiver as he eases up and takes a step back. His eyes glitter and there's not a lick of remorse in the shape of his mouth as it goes from an invitation to a pretense of seriousness. "Good," he says, gathering his coat. "Wouldn't have it any other way."
Steve raises an eyebrow slightly and says, "I doubt that."
Rewarded by a slight but noticeable blush and a hearty laugh, Steve's gaze follows Tony's slow saunter out.
no subject
Tony's gaze follows her slow saunter out. "I think you're blushing," he says, as they're left alone again with relative privacy. He's sitting in his chair as low as the lights are, his elbow propped casually on the padded arm. His hand lingers near the popped button of his shirt, drifting against the starched white of the collar like a woman might finger a necklace to draw a man's eye.
"And you're flirting," Steve responds, calling a spade a spade. If Tony's allowed to steer the conversation like they're in a boardroom, he'll be nothing but squirrely. Already he's been doing a fair job at working to get Steve off-balance and willing to agree to things he never saw coming. Times may change, but businessmen don't.
"Offended? Was I being a little too forward?" Tony's glass hovers near his mouth, teasing Steve with the notion that a lick to the rim is coming. He smiles briefly and takes a swallow instead. The bob of his throat is mesmerizing. "My chips are on not forward enough."
It clicks then that Tony has an inkling as to what's going on in Steve's head and that both of them playing the same game made things far more entertaining than Tony doing all the work moving the pieces around. If Steve didn't always understand what made Tony tick, this gave him a clue. He knows that I know that he knows and that's been the point all along. An honest to goodness flush heats his ears and he plays it up. Ducking his head slightly and casting his eyes away to where he could watch Tony's response in the reflection of the glass, Steve rubs at the back of his neck. The silence stretches and his heart rate raises. Tony seems nonplussed but the slight adrenaline tremble of a fingertip gives him away. "I don't believe you could be more forward than that," Steve says, not believing a single word.
The taunt cloaked in an admonishment works like a charm and Tony's eyes stay on him like a predator, hooded and seemingly lazy. "Good for us the walls can't talk," Tony says, giving as good as he got. The room shrinks around them, leaving Steve feeling too big for his chair let alone his skin. A heady rush of blood dizzies him as Tony tugs two more buttons loose and stands. The front of his shirt gapes as he plunks his hands down boldly on the arms of Steve's chair. "How's this?"
Steve forces himself to remain still, giving in only to a slight shift that brings his leg in jolting contact with Tony's. He draws a deep breath, sensing that the thrill of the chase was getting to Tony more so than ever before. And fair enough as they'd never let the sparks fly quite as high as now. For a moment Steve reflects on how much the current generation takes sex for granted and how lucky it made him that he can give a man like Tony Stark a lesson in the rewards of self-control. "Tony..." he says, a hundred things packed into the syllables gusting out on the last of his air.
"Just insist the lights be off and the door locked, otherwise I'm going to have my way with you right here and now, Captain."
The flirting and the blatant invitation Steve can take in stride, but that Tony might honestly believe he'd besmirch his reputation and risk being a tabloid headline is approaching the line. "Now you have me approaching offended."
The heat that crackles between them is better than the promise of the kiss that dangles so clearly within reach. Tony doesn't suppress a full body shiver as he eases up and takes a step back. His eyes glitter and there's not a lick of remorse in the shape of his mouth as it goes from an invitation to a pretense of seriousness. "Good," he says, gathering his coat. "Wouldn't have it any other way."
Steve raises an eyebrow slightly and says, "I doubt that."
Rewarded by a slight but noticeable blush and a hearty laugh, Steve's gaze follows Tony's slow saunter out.