This story is rated NC-17 (mature readers only). It includes explicit male/male sex. If this is what you came for, scroll down. If it isn't, hit the Back button.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Exactly the Way You Like It

by Resonant

"So," Tony said, and then stopped, because the morning sun was picking up glints in Steve's hair, and naked waking-up Steve was porn, he was better than porn, he was art.

Steve smiled at him, sleep-rumpled and boyish, as if he hadn't been yelling Tony's name at the top of his voice last night.

"So?" Steve prompted.

"So last night --"

Steve's next breath went in deep and came out on a sigh: "Yeah." Tony wondered which part he was remembering that made his eyes go heavy like that and how soon they could do it again.

"Last night, when you said -- exactly how much experience do you have?"

Steve dropped eye contact. "Well, there was last night," he said to Tony's bedroom wall.

"And --" Tony said.

"And ... that's ... pretty much it. Some kissing. Not even deep kissing." He met Tony's eyes, and, misinterpreting his dropped jaw, added: "I was a little busy! And people didn't -- just -- it was a different time, and --"

"Oh, my god." It had been obvious that some of it had been new to him, but Tony's head had been too full of Yes to really pay attention. Fuck, he'd shoved Steve up against a wall and bitten him. They hadn't even gotten undressed until afterwards. "Oh, my god, Steve, if I had known that, I would have -- I can do so much better."

"What? It was great. It was amazing," and there went the heavy eyelids again, with the addition of the swipe of his tongue over his lower lip.

"I can do better," he said again, and Steve snorted and said, "That's hard to believe."

Well, that was a challenge, wasn't it? Tony was half on top of him before the words were done, pinning him to the bed. "So you'd never had anybody's tongue in your mouth before last night?"

"No," Steve said on a sigh, and Tony was burning up with the thought of all the other places where nobody's tongue had ever been. Last night, he'd had no idea why Steve had chosen him. Today, he was beginning to get an inkling. He wasn't about to waste this opportunity.

"So nobody," he said, bending to kiss Steve's flushed face, "ever," running his nose along Steve's cheek and jaw, "kissed your ears?"

"Oh," Steve said, and then, "Oh. Oh, Tony, that's -- "

"Yeah," Tony breathed, and Steve shivered as the air passed over his ear, and, jesus, the last time ears had been this interesting, Tony had been in junior high.

"Wow," Steve said. "Let me -- I mean, I know you've probably done this a thousand times, that you're used to people with a lot more skill."

"Fuck skill. Seriously. Skill is meaningless in sex." Steve paused in his rearranging of their bodies to give Tony a skeptical eyebrow. "Well, you do want somebody who can manage not to put an elbow in your eye, but -- yeah. Yeah, Steve, that's good." Steve was really exploring the whole ear thing, and maybe Tony had gotten too jaded, because he couldn't believe he'd been considering this one of the less interesting erogenous zones. "Talk to me, little bit. Not too loud."

"I don't know what to say," Steve said in a low, confiding voice, and Tony shivered.

"It's not the content. The air feels good. Say anything. Say my name."

"Tony," Steve sighed.

"Oh, god."

Steve ran his hand up through the back of Tony's hair (a spot that was apparently on the same circuit as his ear, because, god, so good) and angled Tony's head to give him better access. "That's good?"

"So good."

Tony opened his eyes when Steve raised his face, pink but determined. "Listen, Tony, I want you to teach me something."

God, this was a kink he hadn't even known he had. "Anything, beautiful, name it."

Steve kissed him, soft and shallow. "Something you like," he said against Tony's mouth. "Teach me to do something exactly the way you like it."

Tony swallowed. "Wow. That's -- wow. Hell of an offer. OK, here, give me your hand."

Steve pouted a little, but Tony was not going to be pushed into rushing. Eventually, when Steve had a little more experience, he was going to figure out how much better he could do than someone like Tony. But Tony was damned well going to see to it that he remembered his first time. All his first times. Steve couldn't have chosen a better teacher.

Anyway, the first time Steve Rogers held another man's cock in his hand? That deserved to be savored.

Warm hand, big hand, moving slow and gentle. "Yeah," Tony said, and Steve kissed him, and that was even better. "Yeah, yeah, I like that." Steve tightened his hand around Tony's cock. "Oh, yeah, like that."

"Tony." Steve's voice was impatient but fond.

Tony opened his eyes. "What?"

"You can't just say 'yeah' to everything."

"But I like everything."

"You're missing the point. This is your chance to have something exactly the way you like it."

Sounded nice when he put it like that. "But why should you do all the work?"

"You did all the work last night."

"Yeah, well, I'm a workaholic. I like it like that."

"Yeah." Steve grinned. "I could tell. That's why I want to try it."

Oh, now, that was very hot. "That's very hot, you know that? Little greed. Very good thing. OK, you've been very persuasive, now let me think." It wasn't easy. Steve had gone back to running his lips around the edge of Tony's ear, making him shiver. "The trouble is that I want things that are mutually exclusive, you know? I mean, I sort of want to show off, and I sort of want you holding me down, and I sort of want to watch you blush -- yeah, like that, that's so beautiful, Steve --"

"Tony." Steve's voice was hoarse. "Let me -- you're going to make me --"

Oh, yes. Something else to add to the list. But for right now, Tony needed to take pity on the poor guy, "Sorry. Sorry. I'll be good." So what was exactly the way he wanted to get a handjob from Steve Rogers right now, before they both spontaneously combusted?

"OK, try this." He fitted himself into the curve of Steve's body, little-spoon style. "This way."

"But I can't see your face." From his voice, he was pouting again. Who knew Captain America pouted so much?

"Sure you can. Go up on your elbow if you have to." Tony leaned back a little, and, god, it was good, all that solid warmth, almost enclosing him. "Now kiss me. Good and sloppy. Lots of tongue."

"Oh." Steve didn't have any objections to that instruction. He wasn't a practiced kisser, but he was an observant and enthusiastic one, a tender one. He kissed like Tony's mouth was something he'd been yearning for. Maybe it was even true.

"I like that. Do that a lot. Now give me your right hand."

Steve's palm, when he licked it, tasted like clean, male sweat, and Steve made a noise -- surprised, aroused -- and shifted. His cock slid, just off-center, over Tony's ass. "Sorry," Steve said, and pulled his hips back.

"No, you don't." Tony pushed back, keeping them in contact. "I can't think of anything hotter than having you rubbing off on me while you jerk me off," and Steve buried his face in the back of Tony's hair and groaned.

"This was a good idea," Tony said happily. When he wrapped Steve's hand around his cock, Steve's hips bucked hard against him. "This was such a good idea."

Big hands, had he mentioned that? So much warmth all at once. Being jerked off by Steve Rogers was almost like fucking someone. In fact, it was all Tony could do to keep his hips still, but he made the effort. He was going to give Steve what he wanted if it killed him.

"Tony," Steve murmured -- right into Tony's ear, because Steve learned fast. "Is, is this good?"

"Yeah," Tony said breathlessly. "Yeah, you can tell because, oh, wet. Also -- jesus," because Steve was testing that out, slicking a thumb over the head of Tony's cock, rubbing the slippery fluid between his fingers and letting out a shuddering sigh into Tony's ear, and Steve's cock was wet, too, rubbing against Tony's ass.

"Go a little slower," Tony said, hearing his voice shake. "You're so -- I don't want to come yet. Hold me on the edge a bit. God, you're good."

"I am?" Steve's voice had a tremor in it, too.

Tony didn't even dignify that with an answer. "I want you to do one more thing for me."

"I will, yes, Tony," Steve said fervently, and Tony closed his eyes.

"Move a little -- wait -- I want your cock down here, between my legs -- yeah."

"God!" It was a full-voiced cry, and it hurt Tony's ear, but he didn't care. Steve's cock stroked a hot path between his legs, and Steve's hand tightened on his cock, and Tony got out, "Look, Steve, watch me come," and Steve's chin came over Tony's shoulder so they could both look down at Steve's hand, Tony's cock, Tony coming until he couldn't keep his eyes open any more.

"Fuck," he said, letting his head drop down onto Steve's other arm, which was better than any pillow.

Steve said, "Tony, can I," in a tight voice, and Tony pulled one little bit of energy up from his reserves and squeezed his thighs together hard and said, "God, yes, come all over me," and Steve made a noise that was almost feral, and did.

It seemed to take a long time to get his breath back. Dimly Tony remembered thinking a handjob was going to be less than completely satisfying, but he'd never been so happy to be wrong.

Steve had gone limp behind him, but he seemed to be coming back to life a little, pressing his sticky hand flat to Tony's belly in a messy but sincere caress, breathing, "My god," into the back of Tony's neck. "I can see why you like it that way."

Tony rolled all the way onto his back to look up at Steve, rosy and lightly sheened with sweat, looking even better than he'd looked when he woke up. "To be honest," he heard himself saying, "it's never that good."

"Yeah?" How Steve could manage a bashful smile while looking like the last frame of a gay porn film Tony had no idea; there was no limit to the impossible things the man could do. "I sort of, I lost track of what I was doing at the end there." He cast down his eyes and looked up at Tony through his ridiculously lush eyelashes, and Tony frowned.

"Hey," he said. "Hey! You're -- you're acting."

All the color drained out of Steve's face. "No!" he said. "I mean -- I -- everything I said was true, Tony. I never lied to you about any of it."

"But you're playing up the virginal Adonis thing for my benefit." Tony wasn't even sure how he felt about that; it sucked to be a dupe, but at the same time the thought of Steve play-acting for him gave him a warm feeling.

"It -- not exactly." Steve gave him the squinty eye of embarrassment. "But it was like -- it was hot for me, too, the way we did it. Better than being scared to move in case I do something stupid." Now his color was back to normal, and more so. "Frankly, I'll take any advantage I can get, because it's only a matter of time before you decide you'd rather have somebody, somebody competent, so --"

"Hey, hey, no," Tony said, because he couldn't stop the smile he felt coming on and he didn't want Steve to think he was laughing at him. He turned in Steve's arms and kissed him, and Steve collapsed down on the bed and kissed him through a gusty, relieved sigh. Good and sloppy, lots of tongue, fuck, Tony wasn't twenty-one any more. "Hey," he said, "you do realize you just managed to make inexperience feel really, really kinky? I don't think you need to worry about anybody getting bored with you."

"I'm not worried about anybody," Steve said. "Just you."

end

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Read the story notes

Comment on my DreamWidth journal or e-mail me.

Back to in medias Res

October 22, 2011
http://trickster.org/res/exactly.html