
WORD COUNT: 2299
WARNINGS: smut
AUTHOR:
Killer raccoon

Tony and Steve are spending the holidays in New York – just the two of them. No Clint, no Logan – and especially no SHIELD interference. Tony’s made sure Jarvis won’t let anyone call in to the house. There’s a Christmas tree three times too big for the house sitting in the dead center of their living room, and Tony’s made sure there are far too many presents settled on top of the tree skirt underneath of it. And the billionaire’s even made sure to put lights up on the house, wreathes wherever he can, and he’s got sprigs of mistletoe hanging around in the most inopportune places.
There’s a reason for that, too. For the first time in Tony’s life, he feels at home for Christmas. He’s been through many holiday seasons, most of them spent drunk on the balcony of his Los Angeles house while Pepper yells at him. But this Christmas, he’s with Steve and they spend every evening sipping hot chocolate in front of their fireplace, watching Frosty the Snowman and Rudolph until they’re ready to stumble their tired asses into bed.
However, this particular night, Tony goes out for the day with promises that he’ll make it up to Steve for leaving him alone – and doesn’t come back until late. Of course, Steve can’t be mad at him though because the soldier knows it’s just Tony being Tony and there was a high chance that he was buying gifts. So instead of getting irritated, he simply greets his lover at the door with a kiss and a cup of hot chocolate.
“Good evening, my dear,” Tony says as they walk side-by-side in to the kitchen. The whole house smells delicious and when they finally step onto tile, Tony can see why. “You made cookies? So basically when they injected that serum into you, you became perfect. Supersoldier, baker, master chef, artist – is there anything you can’t do?”
Steve simply looks at him with a sheepish smile before rolling his eyes and murmuring for Tony to shut the hell up. Tony just grins before spotting the apron falling halfway off of the table.
“Oh, you did not wear an apron,” he says, eyes wide and round. When Steve blushes and looks away, his mouth falls open slightly as well.
“Well I wasn’t going to get cookie dough all over my clothes, Tony,” Steve says with a smile, moving his gaze back to his boyfriend. When he sees the expression on the other man’s face however, he laughs incredulously. “That seriously turns you on?”
“Well, the fact that you were wearing clothes kind of takes away from the image I had in my mind,” Tony starts, then grins. “But yes. If I’d come home earlier I would have delighted in pushing you against the counter and getting those clothes off of -”
“Tony!” Steve says loudly, and it’s at that very moment that the man in question notices his partner’s blush. And the pink is traveling fast down his neck where Tony knows it’ll flush his whole body. “Try one, I added a little more sugar then the recipe called for.”
“From scratch, really? Okay, Mr. Perfect,” Tony mumbles, sitting his mug down and reaching for one of the chocolate chip cookies. And as soon as he bites into it, he’s ready to pull Steve into the living room and fuck him senseless. Because he really is Mr. Perfect and his cookies are delicious.
“So,” Steve says after Tony’s moaned his approval. “How was your day?”
“Typical,” the other man chirps as they make their way into the living room, mugs of hot chocolate and plate of cookies in hand. “Braved the snow and did some Christmas shopping. Did I ever mention that I hate the snow? Because I really, really hate the snow.”
There’s a fire going in the fireplace however and as soon as they sit down, Steve’s pulling Tony into his lap so he can place his hands on his back, rubbing and kneading.
“I know you do, but I love it,” he laughs while the playboy sitting in between his legs murmurs in appreciation. “So what did you get me today?”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out!”
“Unfair,” Steve sighs, but he’s got a huge smile on his face. And Tony lets it go, because he’s too happy to argue – good natured or not. “You remember what tomorrow is, right?”
And when Tony pretends to think about it, Steve stops rubbing his back and sighs.
“Of course I do, darling,” Tony laughs, and that’s when his boyfriend wraps his arms around him. “I couldn’t forget the day my life changed.”
The soft tone in Tony’s voice makes Steve press a kiss to his neck, and the shorter of the two men tilts his head just enough so he can connect their lips in a slow kiss. At Tony’s request, all the lights in the living room are dimmed except the tree and the television, and he turns around on Steve’s lap so he’s got one leg on either side of him.
“I love you, Tony,” the soldier sighs, smiling against his lover’s lips while they kiss. Tony’s sliding his hands under Steve’s far-too-tight flannel when he pauses to speak.
“I love you too Steve,” he murmurs, parting so he can give his lover a smile. Because a lot of the time, people don’t believe Tony Stark when he admits any feeling other than self-righteousness. But Steve Rogers has gotten past that little wall – not without work – but he knows it was worth it.
And that’s when Steve slowly pushes Tony down onto the thick fur rug, settling in between his legs as they continue to kiss. They only part when they’re getting dizzy from lack of air, while Tony’s got his fingers occupied by unbuttoning his boyfriend’s shirt. And when it’s finally off, Steve tugs at the other’s tie, crooked smile on his lips.
“I was never good at putting ties on,” he murmurs. “And I’m equally as awful at taking them off.”
“I got it,” Tony says, fiddling with the fabric and leaving his neck exposed so that Steve can lean down and press little kisses all the way up and down the stubble-covered skin. “I see what you did! You just wanted to get at – ah…”
And he stops because Steve’s got a hand in his hair and teeth are gently nipping at the skin directly behind his ear. Because it’s common knowledge between them both that that’s how you shut Tony Stark up. Soon, the billionaire’s tie and shirt are gone as well and there’s something very hard and very hot pressing against Steve’s thigh.
“Why do we wear clothes around the house? I mean really,” Tony starts, “There’s only the two of us and Jarvis here and Jarvis is an artificial intelligence so we should really just not wear clothes until we actually need to do something.”
“Tony,” Steve says softly, pressing his leg down and getting a lovely groan of appreciation in response. “You need to learn when to shut up.”
“And you need to wear that apron for me.” Is the retort he gets, while his partner grinds up slowly against him. All Steve can do is chuckle low in his throat while he slides his hand down Tony’s bare skin to his dress pants. “And to get these poor pants off.”
But before Steve can do just that, Tony’s flipped them and has Steve pinned to the rug underneath him. His hands are on the waistband of his lover’s jeans, unbuttoning and pulling at them.
“Up,” he murmurs, and Steve complies by lifting his hips so that Tony can pull the offending piece of clothing off. Tony’s pants come off quickly after, leaving them with only two sets of boxers between them – which the man on top gets rid of quickly. And after he grabs a bottle of lube from the coffee table drawer, he looks down at Steve.
“Is it my turn?” the soldier teases, the crooked smile back – which makes Tony’s heart flutter even if he won’t admit it. Once he gets confirmation, Tony’s on his back on the floor and Steve’s hovering above him, fingers slicked and gently probing at his boyfriend.
“Damn, Steve,” Tony gasps as a finger is slipped inside of him, making his back arch slightly off of the rug and a gasp to leave his lips. “Could you go any slower?"
Steve simply presses another of his fingers inside of his boyfriend to shut him up. Their lips connect once more after that, kissing languidly while Steve opens him up. And surprisingly, the only noise in the room is the teleivision playing How The Grinch Stole Christmas, and the crackling of the fire. That is, until Tony flips them over again.
"My turn,” he says with a smile that would make the devil blush, slicking Steve up and running his hand up and down his erection before slowly descending onto it. Which makes him moan and grasp at his lover’s chest. Until Steve draws him into another kiss, of course.
Their pace starts slow – gentle, so Tony’s moaning softly against his mouth and muttering his name when the part for air. But soon, as always, that just not enough for the playboy and he starts moving faster, up and down, sitting straight up so that Steve has to sit up to bury his face against his lover’s neck. And that, well. That just makes Tony go a little crazy.
While Steve nips and sucks and wraps his hand around Tony’s erection, the shorter of the two men is busy fucking himself until he’s moaning his partner’s name over and over again.
“I love you Tony,” Steve says, words soft and breathless. His arms are tight around Tony’s back, holding their bodies flush together as they writhe and pant.
“I love you too, Steve. Fucking,” Tony gasps, his eyes closed and teeth worrying his bottom lip. “Love you. Like you don’t even – you don’t even know.”
It’s not long before they both climax, gasping for breath and leaning against one another for support. And once they’re cleaned up, they crawl onto the couch.
“Goodnight, Tony,” Steve murmurs into his lover’s ear as he wraps an arm around him from behind. However he can already hear soft snoring.
Tony’s woken up with a cup of coffee – two sugars and one creamer – and a very naked Captain America wearing only an apron.
“See, you look lovely in just the apron,” he says sleepily, accepting the coffee and grinning at his boyfriend. He’s rewarded with a blush, a crooked smile, and a kiss, and he can’t help the bemused grin as he sips on his drink. “Alright, alright. I’m up.”
Sitting up slowly, Tony continues to sip at his coffee. He knows he should get dressed soon, because he has things to do but he just loves the sight of Steve in that damn apron and it makes him want to screw his brains out but not this early in the morning.
Steve perches himself next to him, drinking from his own mug and making life generally amazing for Tony. The fire is already crackling in the woodstove, and there’s snow falling gently past the windows and basically Tony just really feels content. For once in his life, there’s no paperwork, no Iron Man and Captain America, no Pepper or Fury or anything that would take him away from his happiness.
And blandly he realizes that he is happy. The thought kind of sends him reeling, because he’s not used to it and he doesn’t really realize when exactly his life changed or why he didn’t notice his lifting mood. He wonders if maybe anyone else noticed before he did. After sending his thought process into space however, he rests his head on Steve’s shoulder and sighs.
“Gotta get dressed,” he mumbles. “I have something for you."
"Oh?” Steve replies, looking down at him and raising his eyebrows. “Well then, let’s get a move on.”
“Only if you wear that apron again sometime in the near future. Maybe Christmas Day? That would be a fantastic present.”
“We’ll see.”
“Tease,” Tony says finally, shooting a smile at his lover. However they both rise once he finishes off his coffee, and walk their way into the bedroom to dress.
Two oral incidents and a wardrobe malfunction later, Tony’s leading them down into the depths of his workshop, smiling like the cat that got the cream the whole way while Steve silently wonders what Tony was about to get them into.
His thoughts are derailed when they walk into the Garage and Tony walks over to a new Audi sitting in the dead center of the room. The license plate reads STARK11 and that’s basically what makes Steve realize that it’s for him. And while his boyfriend walks right over to the vehicle and leans against the side, he kind of stops dead in his tracks and just stares.
“Happy Anniversary, Steve,” Tony murmurs, that small smile reserved only for Steve on his face.
“Tony, I… You didn’t have to -”
“It’s a nonissue, darling. Really. You want to take it for a drive?”
“This is way, way too much, Anthony,” Steve starts, and he can see the pout already forming on Tony’s lips. “Plus it’s snowing, and I’m pretty sure that thing doesn’t have four wheel drive. Sorry, sweetheart.”
“Well… We can at least break it in? I think there’s enough room for me to get on your lap in -”
But he’s cut off by Steve, who’s walked over and crushed their lips together.
“Happy Anniversary, Tony.”





























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