Salmon Pink (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
salmon_pink) wrote2012-08-08 06:58 pm
salmon_pink) wrote2012-08-08 06:58 pm
(MCU) Sand Shark
Title: Sand Shark
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Pairing: Tony/Steve
Rating: NC-17
Words: 492
Notes: For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
comicdrabbles, prompt "beach".
Tony’s always had mixed feelings about beaches.
On the one hand, there’s sun and exposed skin and there’s this rule that means you can totally start drinking in the middle of the afternoon and nobody will say a damn thing, whereas they (Pepper) usually get pissy if he starts drinking in the office before five.
Or after five.
Pepper just generally gets annoyed when Tony drinks in the office.
Which is just one of many reasons why he avoids being there.
On the other hand, there’s sand, which Tony doesn’t really like. It gets damn well everywhere, providing all the wrong kinds of friction. He didn’t like it before he got stuck limping through the desert, bleeding and broken, and he definitely doesn’t like it now.
Not to mention the damage sand can do to technology, all those little grains getting inside and rubbing against sensitive microchips and circuits. Tony’s taken steps to make sure the arc reactor in his chest can’t be damaged by something so insignificant, but being at the beach still feels like tempting fate.
Oh well, fuck it, Tony’s never cared much about fate anyway.
And none of that’s ever kept him from having his own private beach in Malibu.
So here he is, already kind of buzzed, because it’s a beach and there’s that drinking rule and nobody can get on his ass, even though it’s barely after three.
There’s sand fucking everywhere, but Tony’s given up on eying it distastefully, because it doesn’t seem to care.
Besides, Tony’s icy glares have nothing on Pepper’s. He should probably ask her for lessons - she’d enjoy that.
And then there’s Steve.
Steve, who is gloriously half-naked, and it doesn’t matter that Tony’s seen him completely naked countless times and in every position imaginable, because he’s never going to get tired of what that body does to him. Especially when he’s got Steve staring up at him, eyes kind of dark and intense, mouth slightly open around these shallow little breaths.
He tastes like the ocean, salty enough to make Tony’s lips tingle. All that sun-kissed flesh, just begging for Tony’s mouth, wet and glistening and perfect. Little droplets of water pooling in the lines of Steve’s abs for Tony’s tongue to chase, nipples that were already stiff and peaked from the cold of the water growing tighter as Tony nips at them.
God, he loves the way Steve always arches into that.
Bright red swim shorts, a little darker now for how soaked they are. All that wet fabric clinging to Steve’s hips, sticking damply to his inner thighs. Moulding to the curve of Steve’s cock like a second skin, showing Tony just how hard Steve is for him, how much he loves this, and Tony’s smirks to himself, savouring the sight.
He’s always had mixed feelings about beaches but, yeah, he could just grow to love them.
Even if the fucking sand is biting into his knees.
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Pairing: Tony/Steve
Rating: NC-17
Words: 492
Notes: For
comicdrabbles, prompt "beach".Tony’s always had mixed feelings about beaches.
On the one hand, there’s sun and exposed skin and there’s this rule that means you can totally start drinking in the middle of the afternoon and nobody will say a damn thing, whereas they (Pepper) usually get pissy if he starts drinking in the office before five.
Or after five.
Pepper just generally gets annoyed when Tony drinks in the office.
Which is just one of many reasons why he avoids being there.
On the other hand, there’s sand, which Tony doesn’t really like. It gets damn well everywhere, providing all the wrong kinds of friction. He didn’t like it before he got stuck limping through the desert, bleeding and broken, and he definitely doesn’t like it now.
Not to mention the damage sand can do to technology, all those little grains getting inside and rubbing against sensitive microchips and circuits. Tony’s taken steps to make sure the arc reactor in his chest can’t be damaged by something so insignificant, but being at the beach still feels like tempting fate.
Oh well, fuck it, Tony’s never cared much about fate anyway.
And none of that’s ever kept him from having his own private beach in Malibu.
So here he is, already kind of buzzed, because it’s a beach and there’s that drinking rule and nobody can get on his ass, even though it’s barely after three.
There’s sand fucking everywhere, but Tony’s given up on eying it distastefully, because it doesn’t seem to care.
Besides, Tony’s icy glares have nothing on Pepper’s. He should probably ask her for lessons - she’d enjoy that.
And then there’s Steve.
Steve, who is gloriously half-naked, and it doesn’t matter that Tony’s seen him completely naked countless times and in every position imaginable, because he’s never going to get tired of what that body does to him. Especially when he’s got Steve staring up at him, eyes kind of dark and intense, mouth slightly open around these shallow little breaths.
He tastes like the ocean, salty enough to make Tony’s lips tingle. All that sun-kissed flesh, just begging for Tony’s mouth, wet and glistening and perfect. Little droplets of water pooling in the lines of Steve’s abs for Tony’s tongue to chase, nipples that were already stiff and peaked from the cold of the water growing tighter as Tony nips at them.
God, he loves the way Steve always arches into that.
Bright red swim shorts, a little darker now for how soaked they are. All that wet fabric clinging to Steve’s hips, sticking damply to his inner thighs. Moulding to the curve of Steve’s cock like a second skin, showing Tony just how hard Steve is for him, how much he loves this, and Tony’s smirks to himself, savouring the sight.
He’s always had mixed feelings about beaches but, yeah, he could just grow to love them.
Even if the fucking sand is biting into his knees.