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"I'm sorry for what I said, earlier."
Tony looked up from his book to find Steve Rogers standing in the doorway with both hands behind his back, feet shoulder-width apart. He sighed and turned the book over his thigh, keeping his place. "Sorry you said it out loud or sorry you thought it in the first place?"
Steve's jaw twitched; his frown deepened. "Sorry I said it out loud," he finally admitted.
Tony shook his head. "This isn't going to work."
"Why not?"
"Because as much as I hate to say it, you're not wrong. You've got a glass head, Rogers, and the reasons you think it's hard to have an unclaimed sub on the team are right. It is hard. And now that I know that you think I don't belong here, I'm going to be too distracted trying to earn your damn approval to make the decisions I need to be able to make in the field. So, yeah. It was okay, before, but now it's not. This isn't going to work. And lucky for you, the Avengers needs Cap a lot more than they need the tin man. So I'll go back into R&D where I belong and you won't have to worry about it anymore." Tony picked up his book, tucking his thumb between the open pages, and made for the door.
"Tony, wait."
It wasn't a Command, but Tony stopped nonetheless, his eyes fixed on the floor by Steve's feet.
"I'm sorry."
"I know. Doesn't change things, though."
"It means I should be the one to step down." There was firm stoicism in Steve's voice and it just made Tony smile.
He stepped closer, rolling his gaze up Steve's body to find his eyes. "You doms are all the same," he murmured. He reached out and touched a fingertip to the centre of the white star on Steve's chest. "You're too nice." Tony walked out of the room and off the team.
**
"And this is Tony Stark," Maria said, gesturing. "Iron Man."
Tony looked across the room until he found Steve's feet, paused, then flicked his gaze up to meet Steve's. But Captain America's timeless disapproval was already wound through his expression. Steve's lip curled up in a sneer. "You let a sub be on the team? Why?"
Fury shrugged. "He's good at what he does. The other thing is his problem."
"His problem?" Steve scoffed. "It won't be 'his problem' if a Command from another dom has him switching sides!"
"We need all the help we can get, Cap." Fury turned back to the Helicarrier controls.
Steve turned back to Tony. He didn't look convinced.
**
It was three weeks after their talk before Steve got up the courage to ask. Tony knew because he'd been waiting for it, and Steve had outlasted all of his bets with himself.
"Why -" Steve started, stuttering around the question. He tried again. "Is there a reason you're not claimed? If you were, you could be on the team."
Tony chuckled. "How long have you been sitting on that one, Cap?" Tony quickly readjusted the parameters of his self-bet. If Steve had been wanting to ask all along, he'd still win.
"A while now," Steve said enigmatically, and Tony sighed. "You don't have to answer."
"I know I don't have to answer. And there's your answer. No one can handle me. At least not the way I like to be handled. I've had fourteen doms try. No one's succeeded. Why, you offering?"
Steve's jaw clenched in an expression Tony was starting to consider his Talking To Tony Look. "That isn't what I was saying. I just - you did a good job that day, against the Chitauri. I was impressed. And I'm sorry that my actions are what took you off the team."
"It wasn't your actions, Steve. It was this -" Tony waved a hand that encompassed Steve from head to toe.
Steve's lips twitched up. "You just gestured to all of me."
"Oh, the spy twins have already made you watch that one, huh?"
"Bruce, actually. I liked it."
"He has good taste. But my point is that it is all of you that's the problem. I'm an unclaimed sub, you're an unattached dom. I'm not afraid of being Commanded by a bad guy - you think I wouldn't build fail safes for that into my suit? Come on. No, it's you. You're team leader, but even if you weren't, you're the only unattached dom on the team and you make the sub in me crazy, Rogers. As long as you doubt me, I can't help but put a solid chunk of my energy into trying to please you, and that's distracting as fuck. That's not something sound filters on the suit can fix. You're like… you're like that blinking, beeping dot on my radar now. And it wouldn't be a problem if I could just ignore you, but you'll be giving orders in the field, leading the team, fighting at my side. I may be a brat, but I'm not an idiot. I know what effect that'll have on me, and I can't put everyone else at risk just because I'm too stubborn. For once in my life, I've made the right choice. Let me make it."
Steve's chin dropped and took his eyes with it, and Tony could see the resignation etching into his features. Then it stopped - his expression twisted then realigned into something else. "What if I were offering?"
Tony froze, legitimately off-kilter for the first time. "What?"
"What if I were offering to try and claim you?"
Surprise flushed hot through Tony's veins, but he shook it off, laughing. "Then I'd say you wouldn't be the first and definitely won't be the last, hot stuff. But by all means, have a go." Tony spread his arms wide in invitation and in a snap Steve was all up in his space, not touching, but close enough to steal Tony's breath.
Steve breathed out against his cheek, eyes carving a line from Tony's lips to his throat. "If you say yes, you'd better mean it, Stark."
Tony swallowed heavily. "Don't waste your time, Steve." His closeness stole all of Tony's snappy nicknames. "It doesn't work."
Steve locked their gazes together again. "What doesn't work?"
"I mean." Tony swallowed again. "It's not like I don't respond to Commands. I can - I can go down. I just. I don't -" Tony growled when the words wouldn't come and Steve eased back a little, giving him space. "I'm not just a brat. I'm like brat dialed to eleven. The way I like it isn't the way doms want to give it."
Steve's eyes narrowed a little and Tony had the distinct impression he was being x-rayed. "Maybe the way doms these days don't want to give it."
Tony met Steve's gaze with a challenge of his own. "You really mean it?"
"I mean it."
Tony rolled it over in his mind. What did he have to lose, really? Maybe having Steve fail would make his hold over Tony lose its grip and he'd be able to step up as Iron Man again anyway. And if it didn't, he'd be no worse off than he already was. "Okay."
"Okay?"
Tony nodded. "Yes. Try and claim me."
"Come to my room tonight at eight," Steve Commanded, the edge dripping into his voice like hot wax.
"Shit. Yes, sir." Tony could hear the sarcasm in his voice, but the truth was, Steve's Command hit him deep, hot and needy and aching already.
"Okay," Steve said again, softer this time, then he turned and walked out of the room.
Tony burned, amped up and ready. But it always felt like that, always started like that, before everything went to shit.
**
At seven, Tony went to his room and stripped down. He showered carefully, cleaning under his fingernails and combing the conditioner through every strand of his hair. The thrill of anticipation throbbed under his skin and he wallowed in it, trying to enjoy that for as long as possible. Because when it actually came down to it, he knew Steve wouldn't be the one to get him down. Not someone like Steve, not where smarter, crueler, more experienced doms had failed. Steve was too nice, too fresh, too -
Adorable.
And Tony was going to make his evening a living hell so he was definitely never going to want to talk to him again. A perfect evening.
Still, Tony found himself buzzing back and forth in his apartment waiting for the clock to finally click up to eight. At five minutes til, he couldn't take it anymore, so he got in the elevator and told JARVIS to time it out right. Steve's command burned under his skin like a brand and he wanted to dig his fingernails in and scratch it raw.
At exactly eight o'clock, Tony stood outside Steve's door and waited, writhing with the exquisite agony of disobeying as each second pushed him further and further from Steve's command. Finally, at two minutes past, he knocked.
"Come in."
Tony pushed the door open and stepped inside. He wasn't sure what he'd expected - Steve didn't seem the type to greet him in all leather with an array of whips and toys laid across the floor - but what he found certainly wasn't it. Steve was standing by the kitchen island, one hip leaned against the granite countertop. His hair was damp and standing on end and he was dressed in soft, grey sweatpants and one of his pasted-on, long-sleeve, workout shirts. He was sipping from a glass of red juice, and his eyes were fixed on Tony.
"Thank you for coming," Steve said, and Tony quirked up an eyebrow.
"You told me to."
Steve's eyes flicked over to the clock on the stove and he hummed. "Cause you're so good at doing what you're told."
A smile spread slowly across Tony's face. "It's good that you recognize that already, Cap."
"Steve." Steve's voice dropped low and firm but wasn't a Command yet. "Here you call me Steve."
"Not sir?" Tony teased.
"No." That was a Command.
Tony swallowed. His tongue curled around "Yes, sir," but he didn't let it out just yet, still not sure how Steve was going to play this.
"Sit, please." Steve's voice had lightened again.
Tony joined him at the kitchen table, picking up a placemat to fiddle with the fringed edge while they talked.
"JARVIS forwarded me your list."
"He's handy like that."
"When you say no water -"
"I mean no water," Tony snapped back. "None."
Steve nodded solemnly. "To drink?"
"Oh." Tony blinked, realizing he'd never considered that before. He'd only tried a dom a few times since Afghanistan so it hadn't really come up. "Does it matter?"
"Food and hydration is part of my aftercare."
"You won't get me down, so I won't need aftercare." Tony grinned. "But just for the record, I'd prefer something sweet over water. Just in case." A panic attack rarely went over well during a scene.
"Okay. Noted." Steve set his now empty glass down on the table. "Tony. When was the last time you went down for someone?"
Tony tensed. "I - Pepper does soft scenes with me every few months to keep me sane."
Steve's expression didn't change, but Tony could feel a shift in him nonetheless. "Soft sceneing doesn't count. When was the last time someone brought you down?"
Tony worked his jaw for a moment, scanning back. "I… I don't actually remember. Before Afghanistan. A while before. Probably in my late twenties."
That made Steve's eyebrow quirk up and Tony had some small, sick joy in surprising him. "Really? That long?"
"Like I said, I'm a challenge."
"But the ones who were able to bring you down, why didn't they claim you?"
It wasn't meant to hurt but it stung nonetheless, and Tony dug his fingers into his thigh to stop himself from flinching back like Steve's words were a whip crack. Knowing you were unwanted was a little different than having someone else throw it in your face. "I'm too much work. No one wants that. Besides, I can't go down often enough to satisfy a dom on my own, but I also don't share well."
"Why can't you go down often?"
Tony shifted in his seat. Steve's calm, cool interviewing was starting to make him feel x-rayed. "Healing time."
That finally got a reaction out of Steve. He startled back, eyes going wider. "That's what it takes, huh?"
Tony nodded. "I wasn't exaggerating for dramatic affect, Cap, I'm speaking from genuine experience."
Steve flicked his eyes up to the ceiling. "That's one, JARVIS."
"Yes, sir."
"Wait, one what?"
"I asked you to call me Steve."
Tony huffed. "We're not even sceneing yet."
"What's your safeword, Tony?"
"Galileo."
"Do you trust me?"
Tony scoffed and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "I mean, I barely know you, Cap."
"Two," Steve said firmly, and JARVIS acknowledged it with a soft beep.
"Fuck," Tony bit out under his breath.
"You know that's not what I meant. Do you trust me to respect you, to take you down safely, and to honour your safeword if you use it?"
"God, you're old fashioned. Yes, of course I do. Stand up fellow like yourself."
Steve took a quarter out of his pocket and set it in the middle of the table, equidistant between them. "As soon as you pick up that quarter, you're mine. I control your body, your actions, all of your choices until I choose to end it, or you safeword. We won't be having sex, but I will touch you. If there's anywhere at all on your body that you don't want to be touched, tell me now."
"The reactor," Tony said immediately. "Or rather, you can touch it, as long as you never make me think you'll try to take it out. Then I'll safeword. Everywhere else is fair game."
Steve nodded. "Like I said, this won't be sex, but it might be pleasureful, and if you want to come, you can, I won't stop you or punish you, but it also doesn't mean I'll stop what I'm doing. The other thing I will never punish you for is not being able to go down. My goal for this scene is to get to know you and get you down as far as is safely possible. If that's not very far, that's okay. Your job is to obey me, not try and force it. Got it?"
Tony nodded, afraid to open his mouth and let his traitor tongue sass back. This was actually important.
"Okay. This is your last chance to back out without safewording and your last chance to ask questions. Once you pick up that coin, you're mine."
Tony's eyes fixed on the coin. What he really wanted to ask was How long is it going to be before you give up on me? But in truth, he didn't want to know the answer. Then he'd just be waiting, counting down the minutes. He reached out and covered the coin with his hand then met Steve's eyes. There was something pleading in them, underneath the cool exterior, and that was what made Tony pick up the coin. He flicked it into the air and caught it again. "Okay, Cap, give it your best shot."
Steve smiled then pushed up out of his chair. "Three," he said, and Tony cursed. "We'll start easy." He started rolling up his sleeves, folding careful inch after careful inch up towards his elbow. "Take off your clothes."
"Don't want to take them off me?" Tony teased, biting back a handsome, he nearly tacked on the end.
"No." Steve sat down on an armchair by the living room couch and looked at Tony expectantly, hands folded in his lap.
"Well, okay then. So much for not having sex, Captain Kinky." JARVIS beeped again, but Tony ignored it. Four. He followed Steve to his chair and stopped in front of him. He grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled it off, tossing it aside. "Have you been to a modern strip club yet, Steve? I think you might like it." He undid his pants and shook his hips to make them fall down.
Steve didn't answer but there was a strange light in his eyes. He traced them over Tony's body. When Tony reached for his boxers, Steve said, "Stop."
Tony froze, thumbs hooked in his waistband. Then that thing flared up. That need to take every Command and fuck with it. He grinned, teasing down the fabric just enough to show the dip of his hip and a little hair. "You sure?"
Steve kept his eyes on Tony's face. "I'm sure."
Tony shrugged and let his hands fall to his sides. When Steve didn't move or say anything else, Tony started shuffling where he stood, eyes wandering around the room. He'd fucked up four times already. What was Steve going to do with those? It was hard to imagine a dom like Steve digging into punishment, but he had to be keeping track for a reason.
How high could he get the number?
That voice at the back of Tony's mind reminded him that real subs didn't want to be punished, that real subs could go down by being good. And doms wanted real subs, good subs, obedient subs.
He flinched away from his own thoughts, and Steve hummed thoughtfully. "Are you ready for instructions?"
"So I can start planning how to fuck them up? Sure. Why not?"
"I'm going to write some emails. Kneel at my feet."
Tony huffed out a sign. If kneeling was all it took, he could practically bring himself down. "Okay, fine." He waited while Steve settled himself in his office chair then dropped to his knees at his side. The natural satisfaction of obeying a direct Command flushed through but was immediately soured by his innate need to mess with it. When Steve's attention didn't shift to him right away, Tony sat back and crossed his legs in front of him instead. Defiance was a hot rush with a bitter finish, like straight whiskey.
Steve clicked around for a moment then seemed to remember Tony was still in the room too. "Where's your coin?"
Tony flicked it in the air again, caught it, and smacked it down on his wrist. "Heads."
"Speaking of heads, you're going to use yours to keep that coin held against the edge of the desk."
"Excuse me?"
"Put the coin against the desk," Steve Commanded. "And hold it there. With your forehead."
Tony was so surprised by the unusual order that he did it, pressing the coin to the wood frame and leaning forward until he touched it with his forehead. He realized almost instantly that crossed legs was not a good position. He was leaning too far forward and the strain on his hip joints and thighs was immediately apparent.
Tony shifted back, trying to get his feet out from under him so he could kneel instead, but that made his head release its pressure and the coin fell to the floor, bouncing off his knee.
JARVIS beeped.
Five.
Fuck.
Tony dug around in the carpet until he found the coin, then held it back against the edge of the desk. He leaned forward until it was trapped.
God, it was so boring here. How did normal subs kneel at their doms feet for hours at a go? Tony was what, thirty seconds in? And already wishing he'd thought to bring a book. Also, it was cute that Steve thought this was going to bring him down, but this was nothing. Tony had been flogged into the hospital and still managed to stave off subspace until they were stitching him up.
He'd had doms try the soft way too. It just didn't work for him. He wanted to fight, argue, push, dig in and twist, and gentle doms didn't know what to do with that. Sure he'd had some try to outlast him, but eventually they gave in, gave up, and everybody left miserable.
The worst part of it was that Tony really did want to go down. It wasn't like he wasn't a sub, he was. He craved that floating feeling of freedom. He wished he could let go. And the few times he'd gotten there had been pure heaven. But it had never been easy for him like it seemed to be for other subs. While the other teen subs were "playing dom" and soft sceneing each other to the edges of prepubescent subspace, Tony had thought he must be a dom or a blank for two entire years because it did so little for him.
He'd read books, done the tapes, even hired a fucking hypnotist, but it remained out of his grasp. He was twenty-three the first time he went down and it was so incredible that he'd started crying and rocketed himself straight into drop so bad his dom of the day had needed to go to the pharmacy to get him DropAid. That line was so frustratingly hard to maintain. Most of the time, it didn't seem worth it to try. And when he did want to try, it wriggled out of his grasp like jello.
Clink. The coin hitting the floor made Tony startle. He realized he'd relaxed as he thought and had slid backwards until he wasn't maintaining pressure anymore. JARVIS beeped again. Six.
"Ugh," he grumbled. He waited a moment before putting the coin back, shooting a look up at Steve, but Steve's focus was entirely on his computer, as if Tony was completely forgotten. Tony put the coin back.
It was a few more minutes before his head started to itch under the coin and he moved again, letting it fall. He scratched his forehead as JARVIS beeped. Seven.
"I'll trade you," he said to Steve. "I'm good at emails. And you appear to be really good at sitting around and doing nothing."
Steve remained quiet, his eyes flicking across the screen as he read.
Tony sighed and put the coin back. He wasn't stupid; he'd read the books on bratism and Steve was steadily working his way through the textbook. Ignoring creates a stronger desire to please. Well it wasn't. It was creating a stronger desire to pester though.
"Who are you emailing?" Tony tried.
Nothing.
He started tapping out a pattern with one finger on the leg of Steve's desk. It echoed, but Steve still didn't pay him any mind. Tony wiggled back and forth, dragging the coin along the desk. He moved too far one way and it slipped away, falling to the floor again. "Shit."
Beep.
He wondered if there was a limit, a point where Steve would realize that Tony had racked up too many punishments to be safe and would have to stop him. He put the coin back and closed his eyes this time instead of staring down at the cream carpet. It wasn't a terribly uncomfortable position, really. He could think about something else.
Like trying to improve Natasha's Bites. The recharge time after a few hits was problematic, but the batteries could also only hold so much charge without being too weighty. But there had to be a better way besides giving her an arc reactor of her own…
A sudden ache in Tony's neck made him realize he'd zoned out for a few minutes. He shifted to relieve the discomfort in his neck and back, but that just made his thighs and abs tighten to hold his weight up. The coin had pressed into his skin enough that he could feel the perfect circle in his forehead where it sat. It didn't exactly itch, but it had presence. So did the line of Steve's leg beside him.
He could feel the edges of something started to bloom, just out of the corner of his eye. It was a nice feeling, as much as it was matched by the frustration of knowing it wouldn't get much closer. He shifted again and the coin fell.
Tony didn't know how much time passed. He drifted in and out, sometimes focusing on the blueprints in his mind, sometimes focusing on the sharp press of the coin against his skin. It wasn't subspace - wasn't anywhere near subspace, really, but he did manage to relax, which surprised him. He'd never had a dom leave him so long with just one command, unless he was trussed up like a turkey, plug in, pegs clipped all over his body, and told to stay still. But there was no pain, no pleasure, no distraction here. It should have given him more leash to let his traitorous mind wander, but instead there wasn't enough to fight against, so he was just bored.
It was hard to bore Tony Stark; that was an achievement all on its own.
Steve finally turned in his chair. "Okay, that's enough, Tony."
Tony let the coin fall into his hand, sitting back with a sigh. "Thank god."
Steve reached out and his thumb rubbed over the spot where the coin had pressed, no doubt indented and pink. Doms had such a thing for marks. Still, Tony leaned into the touch, needed after so long alone with himself. Steve leaned in closer. "How many times did you drop it?"
"Thirteen," Tony said immediately. "And it was four before, so seventeen punishments total."
Steve just stared at him, cool and calculating, and Tony squirmed. "Okay." He stood, and Tony had to crane his neck to look up at him. "I have another project for you."
Tony thrilled a little. Something else to do meant something else he could fuck with instead of this endless sitting.
Then Steve picked up a jar from the end of his desk, unscrewed it, and tipped it out over the carpet. A thousand white grains of rice fell to the plush, white carpet and disappeared. "Pick them up," Steve commanded, sounding almost disinterested.
"Excuse me?" Tony said, even as the command burned hot through his veins. "You just dumped them on the floor. How is that my problem?"
But Steve was already back at his computer desk, this time with a book open in his lap, one leg crossed serenely over the other.
"Fuck you," Tony muttered under his breath, but there was no reaction from Steve. He reached out and ran his fingers through the pile of rice. It was kind of a nice sensation, but the largest pile collapsed and Tony could see some of the grains tumbling down deep into the carpet. Shit.
Tony scooped up what he could easily and poured them into the jar through his cupped hands. He did that a few times more, but what was left had settled deep and each grain would need to be picked out one by one.
"Where's your vacuum?" Tony asked.
Steve didn't reply. No surprise there.
Tony dropped a few grains in the jar. Then he flicked one across the room, just to see. It bounced at the edge of the carpet and skittered across the floor.
Steve stood up. He walked after the grain of rice and picked it up. Well, that was interesting. Then he returned, dropped the single grain next to Tony's knee, picked up the jar and upended it again.
"Hey!" Tony instinctively flinched, but Steve didn't hit him - he just walked back to his desk and sat down again. And god, if that wasn't irritating. Just because Tony wasn't going to go down didn't mean he wouldn't enjoy getting slapped around a little. But Steve was just… not.
Tony dropped three grains in the jar then flicked one off the carpet again, watching as Steve repeated his actions, dumping out the jar. How many times would Steve go get the grain?
Seven more flicks and Tony was getting bored. There was something itching and crawling under his skin. The jar was empty, so Steve hadn't bothered turning it over the last few times, but watching the dom go and fetch what he threw had stopped feeling like a triumph. Tony wasn't sure what it felt like instead, but he didn't like it. The nagging urge to disobey wasn't getting any satisfaction from Steve picking up the grains he threw and he wasn't sure why.
Tony scooped up a handful and poured it in the jar. That kind of felt nice. It felt nice the way obeying orders always felt nice - alright, but marred by the urge to rebel. But he couldn't think of a way to rebel that wasn't just throwing more rice and that had earned him no satisfaction at all. If only Steve commanded him to fetch the rice, then he'd have something to work off of.
Tony rubbed his hands over the carpet and several grains popped up like little popcorn kernels. He added them to the jar.
Tony found another grain and dropped it in the jar. There was a rhythm to it. He counted: one, two, three, four. It was satisfying to see the jar start to fill. Every now and then, he'd pick it up and shake it and he flushed with pleasure when it was fuller and fuller each time. He rubbed his fingers through the heavy fibers of the carpet until they were hot and pink and stinging, but it was the only way to find the tiny white grains on the white background.
Tink, tink, tink. Slowly the jar filled, but the rice seemed endless - he could always see several more. He slumped down on his stomach, squinting at the carpet. Rice, rice, lint, rice…
"Okay, good job, Tony. You're all done."
Tony startled. He'd honestly forgotten about Steve being there at all. He could still see pieces of rice between the carpet fibres. "I am?"
"Yup." Steve helped Tony up to his knees then frowned at whatever expression his face had twisted into.
Tony sighed. "I couldn't do it. I'm sorry."
Steve shuffled closer, crouching down. "Do what?"
"Go down for you. I tried."
Steve tilted his head to the side then realization washed across his face. "Oh, Tony, no. We're not done with the scene. No, sweetheart, we still have a ways to go."
The pet name was new, but Tony didn't have the brain cells to process what it meant. "It's not worth trying," he said, expecting the words to snap out but having them slip out in a soft whine instead. "Just give up."
"How many mistakes are you up to, Tony?"
"I - I -" Tony searched his memory but he couldn't find a number. It was too hazy. "I don't know."
Steve's eyebrow popped up. "You don't know?"
"I'm sorry… I lost count." There were numbers in his head but he didn't know what they attached to. "I was counting the rice instead... maybe?"
Steve's hand landed on top of Tony's head. "You lost count?"
"Yes," Tony admitted.
"Good boy," Steve purred.
The praise flushed through Tony's veins like a drug, hot and potent and completely overwhelming. He groaned, tipping forward, and Steve's fingers caught in his hair, holding him upright. He fluttered his eyes open to find Steve smiling softly at him.
"Did I ever tell you to count, Tony?"
Tony tried to cast back through Steve's Commands. "No… no you didn't."
"You just decided you needed to."
"I guess."
Steve leaned in close, brushing his lips across Tony's cheek, the sharp pain of his grip on Tony's hair in delicious contrast with the gentle touch. "You don't have to do anything I didn't tell you to, Tony. I know you can be a good boy, but good boys give up control and that's hard for you. But you're finally starting to get it. What a good job you're doing."
"Steve," Tony whined. He wanted to crawl up inside the dom and float there, safe and surrounded and protected.
"You've been working so hard. Are you ready for something nice? You won't have to think at all, just lie down and be good for me and do as you're told."
Tony could feel the edge of subspace teasing him, so close and yet entirely unreachable. He was a little bit down but he could taste that feeling of letting go completely, the warm haze of it all, the safety, and he wanted it so badly, but it was just out of reach.
He let out a frustrated growl as it slipped out of his grasp again and Steve slapped him across the face. "Stop that," he commanded. "I told you your job isn't to go down. It's to do what I say. Stop trying so hard."
Tony leaned into the pain stinging across his cheek and worked on finding his breath again. He let the tantalizing pull of subspace slip away from him again even as frustrated tears sprung up in his eyes.
Steve hooked his fingers under Tony's chin. "Sit up, Tony."
Tony hadn't even realized he'd tipped down to his side, but he snapped up before the brat part of his brain could tell him to fight it.
"Good." Steve curled his fingers around the back of Tony's neck and squeezed. The pressure shot straight south and Tony moaned, melting into the touch like a scruffed kitten. "These come off." Steve hooked his finger in Tony's boxers and helped him out of them, leaving him naked.
Tony shuddered as the cool air hit his skin. "Is it time for punishments?"
Steve shook his head. "I don't do punishments."
The surprise nearly shocked Tony out of his haze. "What? What were you counting for?"
"That's my business. This is my scene, Tony. All you have to do is be a good boy for me. Everything is up to me."
"No punishments… Does that mean… if I mouth off now...?" Tony summoned a sloppy smirk.
Steve laughed. "Oh, baby. If you think you can get away with anything with me…." He stroked the side of Tony's face. "But don't worry. For my next trick, you won't be able to mouth off. Stay here."
Tony froze. God, he could still feel it right there, though, the edge, waiting for him, and he wanted it. He wanted it so badly. Maybe if he was really good and did exactly what Steve said for the rest of the scene, he could get there. And Steve would be so happy, so proud of him.
But even the wandering thought of obeying that easily made Tony's skin crawl. He had to push, to test, it was in his fucking nature and he hated it.
Steve returned with a box in his arms. He set it on the couch, so Tony couldn't see what was inside, and set Tony up on his knees with his legs spread and his hands behind his back. "What's your safeword?" Steve asked.
"Galileo," Tony said, and his voice sounded sluggish even to himself.
"Good boy." Steve pressed something into Tony's hand. "But you won't be able to talk in a minute, so this is your safeword. Can you remember that?"
Tony shook the ball in his palm and it jingled loudly. "I can remember." He shook the ball again and thought Galileo to himself.
"Good."
Tony watched as Steve drew a set of lined cuffs out of the box. They were thick and soft - too gentle. Tony frowned, but he managed to bite his tongue. Steve clipped the cuffs on, connecting them with a thin chain. "Shake again, Tony?"
Tony shook the safeword bell and it echoed loudly through the room.
"Good boy. Legs next." Steve had Tony press up to his knees and knelt behind him to add larger cuffs around his thighs. Everything matched in deep blue leather and black and silver straps and chains. Tony had never been one for lingerie, but the cuffs felt a little like garters and the pressure there was nice, drew his attention to his own legs in a way that made him want to run his hands down them, flex.
Steve petted along the back of Tony's knee then gripped his calf. "Lean back," he commanded, and Tony's skin vibrated like he'd had fourteen cups of coffee.
He couldn't help moaning, that rumble in Steve's voice jolting right to his cock and he just… tipped.
With his hands tied, he had no way to catch himself, but he didn't need to. Steve caught him. One hand pressed between his shoulder blades, the other went to the back of his neck again, and Steve eased him down to the ground. It was only then that Tony realized he was lying on the rice he hadn't managed to finish cleaning up. The tiny grains tickled and pinched.
Steve folded Tony's legs up and used more cuffs to clip his ankles tightly to his thighs. He had to either press his toes to the floor to keep his legs upright, tense his abs and thighs to hold them there, or let them flop open, vulnerable and submissive. He couldn't stop squirming, twisting his legs this way and that, looking for a position that didn't ache either his body or his mind, but to his surprise, Steve didn't tell him to still.
Instead, Steve stood and left Tony there, writhing, while he stepped around the couch into the kitchen. There was some rustling and clicking - the sound of the fridge opening and closing - and then Steve was back. He had a plastic container in one hand and a basket in the other. He set both on the couch. Lastly, he took a small ball gag out of the original box and set it next to Tony's head.
"We're going to start without the gag, so I can ask you some questions, and to make sure you remember how to safeword."
Tony jingled the bell.
"Good job. Then, when I'm ready, I'll gag you so that sharp tongue of yours has nothing to cut against, yeah?"
Tony nodded, even though the question hadn't really been directed at him. Steve turned back to his supplies and Tony was struck with a hot wave of desire to misbehave. But there wasn't anything he could disobey. All he'd been told to do was lie there and he was so tied up that he couldn't have disobeyed that if he wanted to. All he could do was talk. But his tongue felt heavy and his mind was foggy. He tried to summon up a quip.
"Is this where I see your dark side?" he slurred.
Steve crouched down to stroke a finger over Tony's cheek, following the path an overwhelmed tear would trace. "Quite the opposite. Nothing makes me feel lighter than watching you like this."
Tony opened his mouth, meaning to say something back, but he just hung there instead. Steve tipped his chin to the side until their eyes met and held him there for long enough that Tony's heart started to pound, drumming against the side of the arc reactor until he could swear it started flickering.
Steve finally broke away and reached for the containers on the couch. He plucked something out of one of them then dropped it onto Tony's stomach.
Tony yelped, startled; it burned. He sucked in a few sharp breaths, craning down to see what it was and realised it wasn't burning - quite the opposite. It was another quarter, and it hadn't been the fridge Steve had opened, it was the freezer. He'd kept a container of coins in the freezer just for Tony. "Oh shit," Tony whined. The pain radiated up from where the frozen metal crackled against his skin.
He was so absorbed in the sensation that it took the click of a lighter for Tony to pull his attention back to Steve. He had a candle in one hand - fresh and unblemished - and was clicking a lighter to life near the wick.
The flame took and Steve tilted the candle to the side, rolling it around and around as the wax started to soften. He held it out over Tony's skin and Tony watched, transfixed, as a drop fell to his stomach a few inches from the coin.
"Uh!" The wax pooled then started to harden almost immediately, burning in a circle the same size as the coin. It hurt. It hurt so good. Tony tangled a whine with a moan, and Steve selected another coin from the container.
"How does it feel?"
Tony huffed out several sharp breaths in response and Steve dropped the second coin. "Good!" he managed. "So good. Fuck."
Steve held the candle out again. "You're going to lie there," Steve commanded, quiet and steady, "and take it."
Tony bit back a moan. All his blood was thudding south, every nerve arching up towards Steve, begging for more.
"I'm going to gag you," Steve said. "So if there's anything you need to say, now's your chance." He smiled softly down at Tony, completely derailing his train of thought.
He tried to come up with something snarky, or challenging, or anything really, but the only word rising to the surface was, yes, so Tony opened his mouth but nothing came out and he couldn't seem to close it again. Steve brushed a thumb over his cheek then filled Tony's open mouth with the gag and clipped it behind his head.
"What's your safeword?"
Tony shook the ball and it jangled loudly.
"Good boy."
The praise was soft and sweet and honest, and Tony had to close his eyes for a moment. Another drop of wax shocked them open again.
Steve worked his way randomly up and down Tony's body, alternating frozen coins with burning wax in a random enough pattern that Tony wasn't able to predict which he was going to get or where. Tony was exhausted. He'd been whipped into a lather before, but Steve had left him on his knees to stew for so long that Tony had run himself into circles until he collapsed. It was a kind of wiped out he'd never really felt before. The pain was just starting but the demons in his head had begun to slip off to sleep. He also couldn't see a finish line, like he normally could. There were only so many times a man could take a whip and his horrible mind would count them off, knowing when he'd hit too far, when they'd have to stop. But wax? Tony figured he could lie there for over a day, until he was so covered he couldn't move, more candle than person. There wasn't an inherent finish line. Maybe Steve would just keep torturing him forever.
Tony blinked his eyes open and tracked from the blob of wax that sizzled next to his belly button up to the candle and up the arm holding it to Steve's face.
The look of reverent focus on Steve's face shot through Tony's veins like a drug. He didn't look frustrated or angry or one step from snapping and breaking Tony's nose. He looked like Tony's pain was an exquisite pleasure, like nothing else mattered but marking every inch of Tony's skin with his touch. He dropped another coin, right over Tony's nipple, and his lips quirked up in a sharp smile at Tony's gasp.
Steve continued, steady but unpredictable, as he worked his way through the coins and the candle, dotting Tony's skin with both, but carefully avoiding the arc reactor. The pain was exquisite. It built and built until Tony felt like he was going to have to crawl right out of his skin to avoid it, but it never quite broke into unbearable.
Then Steve made a soft noise and Tony let eyes he hadn't realized had closed flutter open again. Steve reached out and settled one knuckle at the base of Tony's throat. He stroked down, rubbing through the soft wax, drawing a straight line down Tony's middle right to his cock and off the end.
Tony came like a gunshot. He hadn't been expecting it, hadn't felt it build, but the orgasm slammed into the side of him like a truck, and Tony was left shaking and gasping, too trussed up to curl in, the way his body tried to convince him to. He whined, high-pitched and desperate, jerking and twisting. Steve lay a hand flat on the centre of his chest and pushed him down on his back again. Pinned there, Tony gasped up, fixing his eyes on Steve's face, and he slipped right under.
Subspace was like sliding into a hot bath. Every nerve tingled with pleasant heat, Tony's skin lighting up with a full-body flush. He didn't have to breathe anymore, didn't have to think or crave or fight or speak. He dipped down under the surface, and it was just Steve wrapped around him and nothing more.
Tony let out one long, shuddering breath and melted, pooling into colours like the wax that dotted his skin.
"Good boy," Steve murmured gently. He picked up another coin and dropped it to the dip of Tony's hip.
There wasn't pain this time. Instead, Tony's nerves sparked off like fireworks, zapping electricity out from where the coin fizzed against his skin. Tony drooled around the gag, not even trying to clench his teeth around it. All he could feel was good. Everything was easy - it seemed impossible that anything had ever been hard before.
Steve kept decorating Tony's skin with the coins and the wax, spending who knew how long dotting him with both from head to foot. Tony might have come again, he wasn't sure; his body barely belonged to him anymore, floating somewhere apart from it, somewhere that was scented with Steve and nothing else.
When the candle was finished and the coins were gone, Steve hooked his hands under Tony's shoulders and lifted him as if he weighed nothing. He shifted Tony around until he could sit on the couch with Tony at his feet, kneeling on a soft sheet. One of Steve's legs latched to either side of Tony, keeping him upright as his head lolled to the side to rest on his thigh.
Steve bent forward, folding over Tony. He pressed his lips just behind Tony's ear then started working his way down Tony's chest, flicking off the dried wax and any stuck coins.
Tony had never felt anything like this. Steve's fingers ran through his hair every time he sat up again, and Tony purred into the touch. With his head tipped sideways, Tony could see the pile of little wax pieces and coins accumulating on the sheet beneath him. His skin was on fire with pleasure, every brush of Steve's fingers lighting him further.
"Stay here, baby," Steve murmured, and the Command snuck down deep into Tony's stomach and settled there. He was floating too high for the voice inside him to hear and fight back. He gave completely to the order, staying still and limp on his knees, giving in to Steve. And it was so easy; it felt like heaven.
Steve's fingers settled in Tony's hair, furrowed deep, and he sat back on the couch, legs wrapped tightly around Tony. Tony hooked his fingers around Steve's ankle and let the full weight of his head rest on Steve's knee.
Time became irrelevant. Tony would stay there forever. He wouldn't move. He'd stay at Steve's feet and belong to him and be good. Forever.
Then Steve's finger popped the gag open and eased it out of Tony's mouth. Tony wanted to protest, but if this was what Steve wanted, then it was what he wanted too. Steve shifted around and started undoing snaps and clips, releasing Tony from the bondage. Then he lifted him up in his arms.
"You've been down for a few hours," Steve told him. "Almost time to start coming up."
"Nuh," Tony said, because it was all he could make his heavy tongue say. Tony's back hit soft sheets and his head was nestled into a pillow. Steve pulled off his shirt and climbed onto the other side of the bed. He tugged Tony into his arms and held him close.
"You were so good tonight," Steve told him, and he sounded so honest.
Tony hummed and snuggled deeper into his arms.
He was startled awake a short time later by Steve moving out from under him.
"I'm going to get you some juice, okay?" Steve asked, and Tony nodded.
Steve's heat disappeared and ice instantly backfilled into the space he left. Oh god, once Tony was steady, Steve was going to leave again, and for good this time. Tony had finally found someone who could take him down, who knew exactly which buttons to push, how to make it hurt so good, and he was going to lose him. This was only ever an experiment, a test, a game, and he'd never considered that it might turn out like this. A ragged sob crawled its way up Tony's throat and he tried to swallow it back down but it came out a broken whimper half-buried in the pillow.
Steve's arms were instantly around him. "Hey, hey, what's wrong, sweetheart?"
"This was such a bad idea," Tony choked out, his fingers scrambling for pieces of Steve - any piece. "How am I supposed to go back? I can't be good for anyone else. I've been alone for so - so long. Why - why did you do this?"
"Tony…" Steve pressed a too-soft kiss to Tony's forehead. "I said I was trying to claim you." He tipped his chin up with two fingers then kissed each of his eyelids. His touch was so gentle now. "Is that not what you want? I'm confused."
"Like… for good?"
"Of course."
"I'm way too much work. No one wants that. Now you know."
Steve stroked a fingertip across Tony's brow and around the curve of his jaw. "You are a lot of work. But you're also definitely worth it. That thing you said? About doms not wanting to give it the way you need it?"
"Yeah?"
"That's how I want to give it, Tony. I want my sub's submission to be earned. You're what I've been looking for." He bumped his forehead against Tony's. "Take my claim. Please? I don't think I've ever wanted something as badly as I want you to be mine."
"Really? Don't just say that to catch my drop. Please don't."
"I'm not. I'm not. I swear. Tony, Tony. Take me."
The thought of getting to keep this wonderful, beautiful man for himself made Tony's throat throb closed, his eyes heating. "Of course. You're mine. Yes, I want that. I'll take you, your claim."
Steve drew Tony into his arms and burrowed his face into his hair. Tony had never felt so safe in his entire life. The encroaching drop melted away again and he was floating.
"I don't have a collar, sorry. I had one from before, but it got lost or ended up in a museum somewhere or something. I'll have to get you a new one."
"That's okay. As long as I know you're mine," Tony mumbled, suddenly too heavy to move.
Steve curled an arm around Tony's back and lifted him up so he was sitting against his chest. He held a glass to Tony's lips and fed him tiny sips of orange juice until he'd had enough, his other hand constantly rubbing smooth circles against Tony's back. "I have an idea." He wriggled around until he could tug his dog tags off then draped them around Tony's neck. "Not quite as good as a collar, but the closest I can do right now. So at least when you wake up, you'll remember this was real, that I really want you to be my sub."
Tony's hand went to the dog tags, hefting the steadying weight of the metal in his palm. "This is perfect. Thank you." He snuggled deeper into Steve's hold. "Be here when I wake up?"
"Always. Every time. As often as I can for as long as I can," Steve whispered back.
Tony closed his eyes.
**
Tony woke several hours later to find his dom still snoring under him. Steve's chest rose and fell steadily, his mouth slack and eyes closed, but when Tony shifted, blinking awake, Steve's arm clenched around him on pure instinct, grappling him close again. Tony settled down, cheek on Steve's chest and smiled.
It seemed impossible that last night had really happened, that Steve had done such a masterful job of bringing Tony down and then claimed him, just like that, as if it were so easy. Tony's hand went to the dog tags around his neck. He wound the chain through his fingers and let the flat metal tags press into his palm as he squeezed them. Maybe Steve would let him keep these instead of a regular collar. He'd never been much of a traditional sub anyway.
He was still high on his subspace rush, unable to keep the grin off his face. Steve wanted him. He could have taken him down, maybe agreed to do so again once in a while to keep Tony on the team. But instead he'd claimed Tony. It was a depth of promise Tony had never experienced before, that he'd always have a dom, someone who knew what he needed, would take care of him.
Someone he could even come to love.
Steve's eyes blinked open and he immediately wrapped both arms around Tony and pulled him closer and closer. "Good morning." His voice was adorably sleep-rough.
"How do you feel?" Tony asked, unable to keep all the nerves at bay.
Steve let Tony pull back a bit so he could prop up on his elbow and look down at Steve. He brushed his hand through Tony's hair. "Pretty amazing. You?"
Tony just shook his head. "Overwhelmed."
Steve stretched out long and yawned. The movement gave Tony space to move away, but he didn't want to. As Steve shifted back to sit up against the headboard, Tony snuggled back down next to him.
"So…" Tony started, and Steve looked at him curiously. "So, how did you know what to do? With me. With my problem."
Steve turned to look at him. "I didn't, honestly. But… Look, this is something that didn't end up in the history books, and I know it would change a lot about public perception of me so I haven't decided how I want to present it yet. But I trust you won't tell anyone until I'm ready."
It wasn't a Command; Tony nodded.
"I was a sub before the serum. They didn't tell me that would change - I don't think they knew it would - but I was. At first, I thought it was weird that they picked a sub for something like that, to make a soldier out of, but I learned later that they never expected me to fight. I was always supposed to be the guinea pig for a process they intended to use on other, stronger men. Or at least that must have been what Erskine told them to make them pick me. I guess we'll never know.
"But I came out of the process a dom, instead." Steve's eyes flicked up and away, back a hundred years. "Peggy was a dom too. We'd thought, before, that maybe something might happen between us, and I'd started telling her about me, about what I needed as a sub, but the serum changed everything. We took subs together, sometimes, after that, but it wasn't really the same."
Realization crashed into Tony. "You were like me," he blurted out. "When you were a sub. You had the same problem."
Steve nodded. "Yeah. I don't know how common it is, but whatever it is, I had it bad. And I was small and really sick so I couldn't be forced down with pain."
"How did you handle it?"
"In all honesty? Not well. I mostly didn't go down. It made me bitter and angry and I lashed out a lot. I got in a lot of fights, hoping breaking my nose might be enough or something, but it always just fired me up more.
"But when I became a dom, I guess I had both sides of the coin then, and I could see how I would've taken myself down if I were my own dom. I didn't have a chance to put it into practice until I met you, though. Gotta admit, it's kind of thrilling. Like finally finding the last piece to a hundred-year-old puzzle."
Tony shook his head. "Wow. What are the odds?"
"I know." Steve grinned. "It's like we're made for each other." He flopped back on the bed with his arms folded behind his head and he wouldn't stop smiling.
Tony's lips curved up too. "You really believe that, don't you?"
"Course I do. I'm so lucky I found you. So lucky. I know you don't think you are, but you're so good for me."
"I think you just finished explaining why it's the other way around, champ." JARVIS didn't beep this time but Tony bit his tongue and winced anyway. The brightness of Steve's smile didn't dampen, though. "Steve," Tony added, as an afterthought.
There was a light in Steve's eyes that was only getting brighter. He reached out and brushed a few wayward strands of hair out of Tony's face.
"I'm going to keep fighting every command you give me. I can't stop."
"I know. Makes it more fun." The corner of Steve's lips quirked up and something else throbbed deep in Tony's gut.
"You know lots of claims aren't sexual, these days. Aren't romantic either," Tony reminded him.
"I know. Was like that in my time too." Steve's eyes wouldn't stop tracing the edge of Tony's face, the curve of his jaw, down his neck…
"So we shouldn't assume, you know, that just because we're hyper compatible on one front that we'll work on another front."
"I know. I wasn't assuming anything." He curled his fingers around Tony's wrist and squeezed gently.
"In fact trying a romantic relationship could put the good balance we've found into jeopardy, if we don't work out otherwise."
"Mhm."
"And that all being said, I think it's really important that I ask you to kiss me right now," Tony finished.
"Yeah." Steve took Tony's face between his hands and pulled him in. He pressed their lips together, and Tony sighed into the kiss, parting his mouth and pressing in for more. Steve didn't kiss like a lot of doms did, pushy and demanding and desperate. Instead, there was an honest eagerness behind his movements, restrained, though, like he wanted more but was guiding Tony there gently.
And for the first time in his life, that voice that told Tony to disobey, to fight back, to go against the grain, shut up entirely. He gave into the gentle, leading touch of Steve's lips and let himself be claimed.