The sparks that light up his skin, that delicious sizzle of pain blurred with pleasure, almost having him melting completely underneath Steve. About at the same time that he's holding on hard to him because he doesn't want him to move away. Wants him to stay right where he is and make a mess of him. Stake his claim. Do whatever he wants. But somehow he finds it in him to huff out a little amused noise, looking up at Steve with one of those wry smirks. "Oh. Right. All me," teasing him.

Falling into it with him so easily. This is what he wants. And when they're like this he never wants it to stop. It makes it easier, too, because he's always in good company. That Steve only ever seems to want him and to want to lose himself in return. How can he ever want for anything else?

And where he was once maybe a little self conscious of the patchwork of scars sitting at the center of his chest, any errant ones he's accumulated in battle, now he settles so sweetly beneath Steve, his hands curving up the length of Steve's back again, fingers digging in when he drags them back the other way. A breath hitches in the back of his throat in the middle of all that attention and he arches so very shamelessly, body begging Steve for more. "I don't want you to help yourself," it comes out of him in a rush, truthful and strong.

Without a thought he lifts his hips to help Steve get him undressed faster. Always sprinting ahead to the next best thing. Which would be the two of them naked. But he's a little bit in the lead. That's when he paws at Steve's shoulders with a firm insistent grip. "Want you to just take whatever you want. Then tell me what you need, too. But. Before all that. I need you to get naked." He grins down at him, mussing up Steve's hair as he sweeps a hand back through it and then pulls it forward, leaving some over his eyes. "You're a little overdressed for the occasion, gorgeous."

He feels so flush and warm, not missing a single thing about the way Steve claims him as all he needs. It's a dizzying thing, to be somebody's anchor point. To try and give them everything and love them so wholly that they give themselves over completely in return. But that's the reciprocal affection he finds himself in with Steve. Extreme give and take. As much as Steve has found something deeply rewarding, gratifying, and something he needs in Tony, Tony finds just as much meaning in Steve. And giving that over to somebody is terrifying.

But it's Steve. Steve who has only done right by him as much as possible and put him first when it's possible. The world calls to them for greater things and protection and they both know that that comes first. But when it's quiet, when it's just the two of them and no one else needs to be saved... he knows he has everything with Steve. And wants to give him everything in turn.

It's that exact swirl of thoughts in his hazy lust driven mind that has him gazing up at Steve with reverence and a deep well of love. But... he can't help the way he spins out towards lust-blown half-lidded eyes and a sudden deep flush that runs throughout his entire body when Steve's so very obviously putting on a show. He has a hard time keeping his hands to himself, even seeing this for what it is. Steve's getting undressed- for him. Slowly. And-

"Fuck you are so hot," words exiting in a shivering exhale. The rest of him seems to physically agree, unable to hide the way his cock throbs with eagerness at every new inch of skin revealed. Even when Steve gets to the less fluid final parts of getting undressed all Tony can think about then is, "I want you so bad." Almost whining it, but then being immediately rewarded when Steve finally gets completely nude and just slides right back atop him like that where he belongs.

His hands drop low, curving over Steve's ass with a hard appreciative squeeze and then drift up, palms and fingertips pressing in as he tilts up to catch Steve in a deep, heated kiss. He touches over Steve's hips, and up the length of his back again, almost like he's holding Steve to him. Further still up towards the back of his head until he tangles his fingers in Steve's hair, grasping at the strands. The problems they were having, Tony's head full of grief and rage and anger, all of it has completely disintegrated underneath the very real weight of Steve, the way Tony needs him.

It's that promise, almost more than anything, that settles something deep inside him. That roiling pressure, the learned impetus behind mistrust and shying away from personal connections. When Steve promises things like this, that he's got Tony, that he'll take care of him- Tony believes it. Both because he so desperately wants to and because Steve makes it easy. This, more than anything else, has him sinking into this so much easier, giving in or up or both. Just giving all of himself to Steve come what may.

They've barely even started so he tries not to present as the shivering wreck he already is, but that's just what Steve does to him. He watches with stilted breaths and dark half-lidded eyes, almost hypnotized by the sight of Steve between his legs. The way he directs him, seems keen to take what he wants. Even if that just Tony's personal pleasure. He swallows hard, reaching, sinking his fingers back through Steve's hair in a few long, slow, passes. Tries not to tighten his grip at the back of Steve's head when he sinks into it. Takes him into the wet heat of his mouth in a way that renders Tony into a useless puddle on the bed.

A groan spills out from him, pushed up from his lungs and for a few moments his eyes roll back and closed focused on the intense feel of Steve's mouth around him. He immediately tries to separate his focus on that while also trying not to ride Steve's mouth, to not buck his hips up or grab him. He devolves the way he always does, into curses and warm murmurs of praise that he doesn't even really hear. "Fuck," almost sighed out on a pleased exhale, eyes flickering open again to catch the sight of Steve looking at him and that alone gets a harder throb from his cock while Steve's sinking down again. "Fuck your mouth is so fucking- ...perfect," words lost to him for a second as he trembles beneath him. And perfect doesn't even begin to come close.

Steve might not be as learned as Tony is, but it's the eagerness, the fact that he seems to always want Tony as badly as Tony wants him, that's all that matters. He feels dazed and incredibly needy all at once, remnants of those drinks hitting him all at once while he's there underneath Steve's devoted attention. Everything else, all the very intense troubles they're facing, seem to have completely vanished as he lets himself go, lets himself exist in this space they've crafted so carefully for each other. "God I want you so bad," he groans out like Steve's mouth isn't currently on his cock. "Every way I can have you, every way you'll take me- all of it- fuck-" Maybe none of it makes sense, he barely even hears himself. But it makes sense to him.