ext_159081 (
posyvanilla.livejournal.com) wrote in
cap_ironman2009-04-08 10:42 pm
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Entry tags:
fic: Constellations, for the spring challenge
Title: Constellations
Rating: R
Word Count: 200
Genre: Fluffy pseudo-porn?
Note: Written for the spring challenge, for the chocolate paint prompt. Not beta'd.
Summary: Steve trails the paintbrush up his back, marking a thick, cool trail: a starless constellation.
Steve trails the paintbrush up his back, marking a thick, cool trail: a starless constellation. Tony can feel the brush shaking, and the thud on the bed as Steve drops it in favor of raking his hands through the swiftly drying paint.
"You'd better not be planning on just looking, you voyeur," Tony mutters, as calmly as he possibly can with Steve still tracing patterns on his back; and then Steve is licking a hot line up his back, fingers flicking lightly up his ribs.
Tony's hands twist in his favorite blue tie (Steve, after stripping him, had pushed him gently onto the bed, binding his wrists to the headboard). "Oh God, what is wrong with you, just fuck me already," he pants, and then Steve is laughing and straddling his waist, pressing a thumb to his lower lip.
"Lick," he whispers, and Tony does, drawing the thumb in without thinking. The taste of chocolate blooms in his mouth, and Tony closes his eyes, humming, until Steve abruptly withdraws his finger, parting Tony's lips with a wet plop.
"Sex now," Tony prompts; Steve, smearing dots of paint all over his body, stops to exhale shakily.
"God, yes," he agrees.
Rating: R
Word Count: 200
Genre: Fluffy pseudo-porn?
Note: Written for the spring challenge, for the chocolate paint prompt. Not beta'd.
Summary: Steve trails the paintbrush up his back, marking a thick, cool trail: a starless constellation.
Steve trails the paintbrush up his back, marking a thick, cool trail: a starless constellation. Tony can feel the brush shaking, and the thud on the bed as Steve drops it in favor of raking his hands through the swiftly drying paint.
"You'd better not be planning on just looking, you voyeur," Tony mutters, as calmly as he possibly can with Steve still tracing patterns on his back; and then Steve is licking a hot line up his back, fingers flicking lightly up his ribs.
Tony's hands twist in his favorite blue tie (Steve, after stripping him, had pushed him gently onto the bed, binding his wrists to the headboard). "Oh God, what is wrong with you, just fuck me already," he pants, and then Steve is laughing and straddling his waist, pressing a thumb to his lower lip.
"Lick," he whispers, and Tony does, drawing the thumb in without thinking. The taste of chocolate blooms in his mouth, and Tony closes his eyes, humming, until Steve abruptly withdraws his finger, parting Tony's lips with a wet plop.
"Sex now," Tony prompts; Steve, smearing dots of paint all over his body, stops to exhale shakily.
"God, yes," he agrees.