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darsynia · 2 years

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Until My Steps Return | Tony Stark/OC oneshot

Summary: Tony Stark and his girlfriend Leigh Balci make up for the three days he was away on a business trip. Explicit sex, minors DNI

Length: 5,655

Notes: Set in a soulmate AU where Tony's first word to Leigh, 'Tony,' is written on her right wrist. Leigh has waist-length blonde hair. Established relationship.

Tags: @starryeyes2000 @raith-way @arrthurpendragon @themaradaniels @starksbf @chickensarentcheap @tiny-anne @munstysmind

Excerpt:

“I tell you what, can you go into the bedroom and grab my robe? Not the one that looks like you can see through it if you squint hard enough. I would like to be decent for the elevator ride."

“I think I missed a step?” He’s stalled out on the racetrack, too horny to remember the steps to fixing a flooded engine.

She tosses her hair back and pulls it onto a shoulder, squeezing the towel against it. Her brown eyes are loving and amused. “You want me in the penthouse, right?”

“I want you everywhere.” He grins. “But, yes.”

“Well, until you invent a teleporter, I will need to be clothed for that particular trip, Tony.”

“Two robes, coming up.”

Until My Steps Return

Tony Stark wishes he was the kind of man who has a doctor on retainer, one who will prescribe whatever the heck you want, just because you’re rich. He’s that kind of rich, but he was never that kind of an addict. He’s addicted to pleasure of all kinds, he can admit it. Tony spent years chasing variety, and the truth is, he doesn’t really regret that. Now, though? Now he has variety in constancy, and he likes it so much better.

Now, he has Leigh. His soulmate.

Except, not right now. Because he’s on an airplane, and even though it’s a fast one, it’ll still be another six hours of flight time, combined with another hour of nonsense before he can come home to his tower. He won’t even come directly home to his girlfriend, not really, because she hasn’t moved into his penthouse yet, despite the fact that he’d actually begged her to, the day he’d left for this business trip. Begged. Him! Outside some very specific sexual scenarios, Tony Stark simply does not beg. But he’s in love, and so is she, so he feels comfortable to push boundaries.

The annoying part is, it’s his plane, and it has a bed. If he had a sleeping pill available, if he could skip the rest of this flight by sleeping through it, Tony absolutely would. He’s still going to try, but it’s not a guarantee, and he doesn’t want to drink to do it. The last thing he wants is to come home to Leigh with a hangover. They’re due to get in right after dinner, and he wants… well. Thinking about that right now would not be conducive to sleeping. If he heads to that bed in this aircraft, given its history? That’ll be what he spends his time thinking about. He’d rather do those things with her instead, in a few hours, instead of by himself, without her.

Tony sighs, pulling the travel pillow out from under his head and hugging it to his chest petulantly. He can fly. He has the power of the internet at his fingertips with an AI smart enough to cut through the busywork bullshit. He has enough money to obtain pretty much anything he wants, whenever he wants it. But he can’t make time move any faster, and that’s just some kind of bullshit.

Tony: The fact that the Concorde is no longer a thing is absolutely not okay

Leigh: I miss you too, three days is too long.

Leigh: You should sleep, the flight will go faster.

Tony: Yeah, I know. I keep thinking about what I want to do when I get home, and it’s keeping me awake

Tony: I could tell you if you like. Then you could tell me what you’d do in response

Leigh: Oh I don’t think so.

Leigh: You should have thought about this exact scenario before you told me that you have FRIDAY read out your texts when your hands are busy, hmm?

Tony: fuck.

Leigh: Patience, patience.

She’s not in the penthouse when he gets in, which is probably not surprising. Tony puts his things down and frowns down at his wrinkly suit. He should take a shower, but there’s a nonzero chance of doing that with Leigh, and he’d never turn that down. He hops into the elevator and heads down to her floor. When he rings at the door, there’s no answer, but five seconds after hitting the button, the door opens. He feels a surge of affection for her. She must have asked FRIDAY to code it to let him in. The sound of the shower is loud when he gets inside, and there's a tantalizing hint of her spicy shampoo. He finds out shortly that this is because she’s left the bathroom door open.

Tony undoes his tie and leans in the doorway. “You know you have full access to the penthouse?” he says, by way of greeting her.

Leigh’s rinsing suds out of her hair, which apparently means freeing the shower head to handheld mode and lifting chunks of her wet hair with one hand while going over it with the spray. The motion shakes her breasts enticingly, not that he has the greatest view through the mostly fogged over glass of her small shower.

“I don’t know how to make the shower head strong enough for my needs,” she says.

“Well!” Tony says, laughing. “I can’t help but notice there aren’t any towels in here.”

“I was counting on your plane to come in on time,” she says, her voice rich with amusement. “I’m more than a little grateful that worked out.”

“What’s in it for me?”

The water shuts off, and he can see Leigh move close to the fogged-up door of the shower. Instead of opening it, though, she pushes up against it with her chest. Her nipples pebble up from the cold as soon as they touch the glass, despite the heat of her shower, the rest of her body merely a shadow in the background. She keeps going until her breasts are spread out, literally on display for him.

“You can get me so sweaty and gross I’ll need a second shower,” she says. Her voice is throaty, with just a hint of vocal fry.

“Towels, coming right up.”

Her laugh chases him out into the hallway where the linen closet is. Tony is already so turned on from her visual display that his pants are getting uncomfortably tight, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He comes back with four towels and a sense of determination. Because she is a complete adorable tease, Leigh takes the first towel and wraps it around herself, tucking it in so the edges overlap in the front, but barely by much.

“Easy access?” he asks.

“First things first,” she says, leaning over and taking towel number two. “The receptionist at work bought me one of those super absorbent hair towel turban things in our Secret Santa exchange the first year I worked there. I was really tempted to take a picture of just how little of my hair fits in one of those.”

The bathroom in her apartment is a fraction of the size of his. Leigh’s faced away, basically standing right beside him, and the rhythmic movement of her arms squeezing the water from her hair as she’s bent over is affecting him a lot. The strong clean scent of her spicy shampoo fills the room, enhancing his desire for her. Leigh does a little wiggle as she rubs the towel against her neck. The towel she had wrapped around her body falls off.

“Oops.”

Tony pulls her up against him. Her body is damp and warm, and he groans to feel her heat after missing her for so many days and nights. He kisses her shoulder, hearing her hum in approval, and Tony slides his hand up from her stomach to the underside of her breast, straightening her spine so he can access the back of her neck.

“As much as I love where this is heading, the end result right now is a face full of wet hair for me,” she reminds him.

“Hair dryer?”

She gasps in affronted horror, and pulls away.

“No hair dryer,” Tony says, dutifully.

“Better,” she laughs. “I tell you what, can you go into the bedroom and grab my robe? Not the one that looks like you can see through it if you squint hard enough. You can take that up with us, but I would like to be decent for the elevator ride."

“I think I missed a step?” He’s stalled out on the racetrack, too horny to remember the steps to fixing a flooded engine.

She tosses her hair back and pulls it onto a shoulder, squeezing the towel against it. Her brown eyes are loving and amused. “You want me in the penthouse, right?”

“I want you everywhere.” He grins. “But, yes.”

“Well, until you invent a teleporter, I will need to be clothed for that particular trip, Tony.”

“Two robes, coming up.”

He takes time in her bedroom to adjust the press of his boxer briefs on his erection. Tony has a suspicion that Leigh timed this deliberately, setting obstacles (sexy, fun ones, at that) between him and what he wants to do with her. He is completely certain she wouldn’t admit it if he asked, though.

He finds the robe she doesn’t want to wear in the elevator and completely understands why. It’s white, made of a soft, see-through material covered in lacy vine patterns in a golden yellow color. The only part of it that’s in any way opaque is a three inch thick ribbon belt that wouldn’t cover anything pertinent anyway. He loves it. Tony grabs the lavender fluffy robe she has hanging in her closet, too.

When he gets back into the bathroom, her hair looks much more dry, and the towel wrapped around her body is back.

“This is my new favorite thing,” Tony says, holding up the filmy robe. He drapes it around his neck like a scarf. It barely weighs anything. “And here’s your ticket to barely decent-ville,” he tells her, waving the purple robe.

“Thanks. My hands are full, though. Can you--” Leigh says. She’s toweling off the top of her head and comes over, pushing her chest out where the towel around her torso is precariously tucked in between the valley of her breasts.

“This is a concerted effort to kill me,” Tony declares, but he reaches for the towel. Then, he snatches his hand back. Tipping his head to the side, he examines the structural integrity of the tuck, leaning over and closing his lips around the small glimpse of towel hem sticking up between her breasts. Mostly, he’s kissing her, but he tugs just a bit, and the towel collapses under its own weight.

He’s beyond caring how obvious he is, now, banding an arm around her waist and bending his head to paint his tongue across her damp, delicious skin, lower and lower until he nuzzles her nipple with his nose.

“Tony,” Leigh says, her voice urgent.

“Mm hmm,” he murmurs, curling his tongue around her nipple, loving the way she catches her breath and clings to him, her towel and still-damp hair forgotten. Tony walks her back against the doorframe so he can slide his hand around and thumb at her other nipple, pressing his knee between her legs in a vain attempt to support her.

Suddenly, Leigh hisses, and he pulls back. “What?”

“Hinge,” she says ruefully. With both hands apologetically pressed to his chest, she sucks a kiss to his lips and steps away.

“I put it there vindictively. So you’ll move in with me,” he says.

“Yes, this hinge stamped with--” Leigh leans over and pretends to read out, “‘Hinge-City, purveyors of fine pain inducements to move since 2010 when this tower was built and you hadn't met me yet.’ Wow!” she grins at him. “You were right.”

“Put on the robe, Miss Balci,” Tony says.

She trails a hand along his neck where the revealing robe is resting, then bends down to pick up the purple one.

“Head up, I’ll be there soon,” Tony says, gritting his teeth. He should just drag her over to her bed and take her, but she’s being tempting on purpose, trying to entice him with the ability to have sex with her in two separate places. Really, he wants her up in the penthouse with him all the time, and he will not be dissuaded.

“What?” she asks, fastening the tie around her waist, her hair in disarray, brown eyes dark with how much she wants him.

“I am synched to a completely fucked up time zone, I just spent however long on an airplane, and I want to wake up in my own bed next to you after however much time we spend catching up. I do not , and don��t you dare ever quote me on this, want to have sex in the elevator.”

Leigh laughs, and he even finds that sexy, Tony realizes. “Okay. See you soon.”

She walks out of her apartment barefoot. He almost chases her and reneges, but his back won’t thank him, and he never was the kind to have a Dr. Feelgood to fall back on, there.

Besides, the two of them have a great track record when it comes to her waiting for him to show up, horny as all hell.

Tony doesn’t see Leigh when he steps out of the elevator into the living room of the penthouse. This is actually encouraging, because he wants her to feel more at home in his space. He doesn’t see her in the bedroom either, though, so he checks in his large bathroom to find it empty as well. Only when he walks out of there does he see her, leaning up against the wall waiting for him. Leigh’s got one foot flat on the wall, separating the sides of her robe. She sways that leg, giving him a shadowed glimpse of what lies underneath it.

Tony had never understood the lure of sirens until he met her. He’s hers with gratitude, no reservations, no matter what might tear him apart in the future because of it. He doesn’t even care that he’s a sailor shipwrecked on her shores, as long as he gets to know what that tastes like.

“I thought about this moment all day,” he tells her. “Come here.”

Leigh smiles and pushes off from the wall, but when she is close enough for him to reach for her, she pauses and shakes her head at him.

“Let me undress you?” she asks. Leigh’s a little nervous, he can see, but he fucking loves when she’s shy but brave like this. It always, always works out well for them.

Because he’s a recalcitrant asshole who wants her to manhandle him, Tony adopts a sardonic expression and slides both hands into his pockets before nodding. The little determined twist of her lips in response makes him ache to touch her.

Leigh steps close, choosing not to take on the challenge of removing his suit coat while his hands are in his pockets. She instead slides her hands up from his chest to the small buttons that hold his collar to the shirt, undoing them. She’s distracted enough by this that Tony sneaks his hand out of his pocket and grabs one free end of the bow keeping her robe closed. Leigh’s standing so near that he can just slip his hand back into his pocket with it. The next time she moves far enough away, the whole thing will come undone. He wonders if he’ll come undone first.

Tony knows he’s been horny too long without relief when he gets impish like this, but that’s the thing. Leigh knows that about him too, by now. She seems to be counting on it, which makes him want her even more. They’re recursive, and he loves it.

Leigh sweeps his collar up, pulling off his tie and dropping it on the floor. Then she starts working on his buttons.

“This does not involve enough kissing,” Tony observes.

Leigh is a little minx. Her response is to kiss the space on his chest that is revealed with each subsequent unbuttoned section of shirt, instead of his lips. By the time she’s done, he has forgotten about trying to troll her with his hands in his pockets, and he’s reaching for her, sliding his hand into the glorious mass of her hair and pulling her close. The tie for her robe comes close to unraveling, but he’s past caring about that at the moment.

Tony nips at her, pressing his thumb against her full bottom lip and tracing it with his tongue, teasing her just as she’s teasing and denying him. The thing about Leigh is, though: she’s generous and giving, so when it becomes clear to her that he’s holding back as a result of her holding back while undressing him, she yields, pushing against him, tangling her tongue with his. Leigh burrows close, worming her hands underneath his suit coat and pushing it down his arms even though Tony’s hands are busy opening her up for his kisses.

“Cross-purposes, here,” he murmurs.

“Is it though?” she says, pulling back long enough to strip his arms of both coat sleeve and shirt sleeve. Leigh grabs both ends of the flimsy robe he’s still got draped like a scarf around his neck, and starts backing up. The movement slowly loosens the rest of the tie to her fluffy robe, and it gives up the ghost right as she reaches the edge of his bed and sits down.

“Leigh,” Tony groans. The picture she presents, mostly naked and looking up at him, her hands at his belt, is setting him on fire.

“But I’m not done,” she says innocently, working to loosen the belt, flicking it open and tugging his button out of its buttonhole. He can see her tight, pebbled nipples peeking against the fabric of the robe.

“Swap me?” he asks in a hushed voice. Tony’s tired as fuck, but if she doesn’t want to trade places, he’ll hold himself up with sheer force of will if he has to. He’s a moth to her flame, desperate to singe himself on her heat, heedless of the danger of being consumed.

“Okay,” she agrees easily. Tony helps her stand, if only because he gets the chance to shove her robe off of one shoulder so he can kiss it. Leigh draws down his zipper and pushes his slacks down, and he steps out of them. Tony slides off the boxers himself, sits so he doesn’t crassly kick them under the bed or something, but Leigh dips down to a half kneel at his feet and pulls them away from his feet.

She is always surprising him, Tony thinks, because that’s not something he would expect her to do, not in a moment like this, but it’s also economical, necessary, it brings her right where they both want her to be.

“I want to swap,” she says, and he’s momentarily confused until she takes off her robe and tosses it at the foot of the bed, pulling on the one around his neck.

“Fuck, okay,” he says. He had figured she’d hang the thing up in his closet and wear it another day, but no, she’s pulling it on but leaving it hanging open. Her curves are lush and inviting, warm and his, and he’s grateful, besotted, hungry.

“I want to try something,” Leigh whispers. She puts a hand on either of his knees and spreads them apart, settling her hair on her right shoulder and leaning up against his body, kissing him. Tony’s drugged by sensation; he can feel the strands of her hair dragging across his chest, can smell her arousal, taste her sweetness. Leigh moves her right hand from his knee right to his cock, gentle but firm, and he groans into the kiss. She tips her head to the side, tickling him with her hair as she strokes him.

“Look,” she whispers. Tony looks down and bucks his hips into her hand. He can read his name clearly on the same wrist she’s jacking him with, and her hair is framing the motion. It’s as sensual an image of how he feels about this particular woman as Tony could possibly imagine.

That’s when she slides down his body and takes him in her mouth for the first time.

“Leigh, fuck, yes, ahhhhh,” he groans out.

She pulls off and moves her hand on him. With her other hand, she drapes her hair on his left leg. “Pull it. Yank it, do whatever. I like that, especially now,” she tells him in a husky voice.

He’s literally speechless. All Tony can do is look down at Leigh and watch her swirl her tongue on the head of his cock before taking him in her mouth again, sucking on the way down. She’s systematically destroying him. He grabs the locks she’d offered, twining it around his wrist once, and, trusting her, Tony sinks his fingers into her hairline and holds on.

She moans against him. Tony gives up all sense of restraint and starts rocking his hips, knowing he’ll have to stop her soon. He’s never going to stop being amazed at their alchemy, the way that loving her has turned the rougher parts of him into gold, and likewise the fragile parts of her into steel. Leigh backs off when he thrusts up too deep just once, recovering quickly, kissing along his shaft as she clears her throat a few times. When she starts to take him in again, Tony pulls hard on her hair, and she chuckles against him, sucking just the tip before spelling out obscene messages with her tongue.

“Okay, I need--” Tony says, shaking his hands free of her hair and pulling at the fabric of her robe, trying to get her to climb up.

“Yes, okay, yes,” she soothes. Tony isn’t gentle as he hauls her up his body, spearing his tongue into her mouth, fighting her robe to get his hands on her body underneath it, desperate.

“You’re rewriting my DNA,” he accuses. “I was never this determined to mark someone as mine before.”

“I’ve never been so willing to be marked,” she admits, gasping and holding still. Tony’s sucking a kiss onto her shoulder, and he grazes his teeth along her skin there right as he finally gets his hand between her legs. She’s wet and warm, yes, but what he loves is how fucking responsive she is. Everywhere he touches her, she’s always gasping, arching, shaking, as if she’s physically incapable of hiding his effect on her.

Suddenly, he needs to know how that would translate to tasting her. Tony turns them, laying her on the bed and looking down to see Leigh splayed out for him. Her hair is everywhere, right hand stretched out to cling to the sheets in the way he fucking loves, like she can’t not grip something when she’s in the throes of desire for him. The robe is gapping like the best wrapping paper ever, and best of all, when Tony starts to run a hand from her stomach down, she closes her eyes and arches her hips toward him.

Tony decides he likes the implications of her not being able to see him right now. He reaches up and rests her left forearm over her eyes, kissing it and kissing her lips, pressing, making known what he wants without words.

Leigh nods, her chest heaving in anticipation. Tony can’t resist kissing one of her nipples on his way back down, but he avoids using his tongue, because she’s perceptive, and she’ll guess.

“I want to watch the way your hips move,” he tells her, hands warm on her thighs. “You’re so beautiful.”

“I feel like a complete wreck, and I’ll turn into a hellcat if you don’t touch me,” she promises, her voice sounding rough. Tony has to clamp down on his own desires for a quick minute at the thought that maybe her throat is just the tiniest bit sore from his presence there.

He’s got both his hands on her legs, spreading them apart before resting his palm on her stomach. Leigh whines and juts her hips up.

“Please,” she begs. “Missed you.”

Tony had wanted to surprise her with his mouth but his hands have a life of their own, seeking out her folds like she’s her own force of gravity. He strokes her, kissing her knee, kissing her thigh.

“Tony…” her tone is whining, uncertain.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks, his lips a hair’s breadth away from the thin skin right beside the mass of honey gold pubic hair.

“I’ve just never--”

Objectively Tony knows he should not find it so arousing that he’ll be the first to do this. She has every right to share her body with whomever she chooses, and if none of her previous relationships were with men who had any idea what they were doing, that’s not his business. But he likes this chance to show her what she’s been missing.

“Allow me to catch you up on all the years of severe neglect you’ve been experiencing,” Tony says in a low, sardonic tone. Her thighs clench together, shoulders shrugging up, her whole body responding just to his voice. Fuck, this is going to be amazing, he thinks to himself. “You trust me?” he says, selfishly wanting to hear her voice, excited about how throaty and desperate he’s sure it’ll be.

He’d somehow forgotten what she’s actually like in those three days he’s been gone.

“Give me my phone, I’m calling backup, you’re clearly only here to tease me,” Leigh says, rolling over and nearly kneeing him in the face in the process. She crawls up the bed, her hand reaching out for her cell phone on the nightstand.

Tony grabs her ankle and yanks, shifting his body up onto the bed as he locks that leg over his shoulder. He reaches up and flattens her onto her back with one well placed hand, gentling the movement once she’s in position. With his thumbs millimeters away from her sex, Tony uses both hands to spread her legs, holding her open for him in the process.

Her whole body is trembling now. When he looks up, she’s got the fleshy part of her palm between her teeth, moaning softly around it.

Tony bends his first finger and draws his knuckle up, along her wetness. She groans. He follows the movement with his tongue, pressing his hand at her hips in anticipation of their movement. Tony’s always liked this taste, has done it enough to know that it subtly differs with different foods. He presses closer and swirls his tongue around her clit without actually touching it yet, loving the hitched, shocked noises Leigh’s making. The muscles of her thigh under his hand are rock solid, she’s so tense and focused on what he’s doing.

Leigh’s heel is digging into his upper back so hard he hopes he gets a bruise there. That’s much more intimate than a hickey.

She’s rocking her hips ever so slightly with every movement of his tongue, and Tony gives in to his desire to feel that from the inside. He slides two fingers inside her, groaning a hum with his lips against her clit as she clenches down hard on him.

“Honey,” he murmurs, lifting his head to look up at her. Her chin is up, head arched back, but as he watches, she looks at him, eyes heavy-lidded and dark. Tony grins, hoping she can see the slick of her on his lips. Sometimes she’s embarrassed by the intimacy of such things, and he wants to ruin that instinct with as much joy and openness as he can. He’s an asshole that way. This is one of those times. “You had something with honey, at dinner.” He twists his fingers in just the right way as he says it.

“Tony,” she gasps. “There’s no way you-- Oh my God,” she whimpers, reaching up and pulling one of the pillows onto her face and holding it there.

He notices, though, that she doesn’t close herself off from him as much as she might have. She trusts him. Tony can’t stop the way he rocks his own hips along the edge of the bed to ease some of his tension at the thought.

“I can,” he assures her. “Want to try?”

He angles his head down and takes an obscenely large swipe across her entire sex with his tongue. He lifts himself up as if coming to kiss her, and now she curls her body up defensively.

“Maybe? No. Oh my GOD, I’m a fallen woman, what the actual fuck are you even doing to me right now,” Leigh groans into the pillow.

“It’s my personal mission to debauch you,” he says. “But not to make you uncomfortable.”

Leigh drops the pillow and looks at him with doubt painted across her features.

“Much,” he allows. His hand drifts back down to stroke her again.

“Yesssss Right there-- Tony,” she groans.

“Going to come for me?” he asks, sliding up to lay beside her on his side, hand still moving just the way she likes.

“Mmmm hmmm,” she draws out.

He slides his head closer so he can whisper in her ear. “Speaking of debauching you, I pictured myself doing this on the airplane. Except we were on a commercial flight, and you’d lost a bet with me.”

“Not realistic,” she says, eyes still pinched closed, hips rocking against his hand. He loves her focus, especially because it comes and goes in stages. Soon comes the stage where she’s delirious and gasping.

“The flight, or the bet?”

Leigh chuckles lowly. Tony speeds his movement, and she laughs again.

“Who is manipulating whom, here?” he whispers.

“Toss-up,” she manages through bitten lips. “Almossssst--”

“On the plane, I brought you right up to the edge,” Tony murmurs.

Leigh moans, and he sits up so he can use a second hand.

“Fuck, ok yes, that, whatever you want, just keep-- ahhhhhh!”

“Then I told you to come for me. Loudly. And you did.” Tony says, pushing some command into his voice. “Do it. For me, come for me, right now.”

She does, her whole body freezing in an arched posture one second and then releasing in a shudder of clenched gasps and moans the next. It goes on for longer than any she’s had with him yet, and he pulls his hands away to climb on top of her and thrust in, chasing the last of her clenching convulsions.

“Ohhhhh,” she breathes, sliding her legs up to bracket him.

“Too much?” Tony asks, hoping like hell she won’t say yes.

“Always,” she says, twining her arms around his neck so she can kiss him. Her every action spells out that ‘always’ is an answer that doesn’t mean he has to stop. “That shouldn’t work, you know,” she says when he moves from kissing her lips to kissing along her jaw and onto her neck.

“Mmm?”

“Ordering me to come,” she whispers in his ear, like it’s too shameful to say out loud in a room full of the sounds of their bodies moving together. Tony loves her contradictions, sometimes.

He hopes she loves his eccentricities, too, because he can’t help but goad her. “Wait till I can get you to do it over the phone, the next time I have to go on another trip.”

“I won’t have to wait,” she murmurs, altering the angle of her hips so she can press on his ass with her heels. “I could just call you during a meeting. You wear those in-ear things to get insider information from FRIDAY during those, don’t you?”

Tony quickens his pace, needing to feel her shake underneath him again. It’s like a craving, he’s noticed, and satisfying it is fun as hell.

“You’re suggesting you’d call me and talk me up in the middle of a meeting? I’m dubious,” Tony goads her.

She slides a hand down his stomach to where they’re joined. Tony can tell the instant she touches herself in the way that she likes, because she clenches down on him in pleasure. “Do you know where my hand is, Mr. Stark?” she whispers in his ear.

The speed at which his orgasm is approaching has just hit Mach 3.

“Look at me,” he commands, pressing his forehead to hers.

She does, but then she says something unexpected.

“Come for me. Right now. Do it,” she says, undulating her body under his, squeezing, holding eye contact.

His orgasm slams into him from all sides, it seems, flooding him with pleasure as he slams his hips into hers and holds there, groaning. Tony can’t keep her gaze, he buries his head onto the bed beside her shoulder, breathing in the sweet, spicy scent of her hair. This is what he’s always wanted, he realizes, groaning, delighted, wrecked, pleased.

“Fuck,” he remarks, a full minute later when he’s able to form words again. “Call it a truce?”

“I think we both won,” Leigh says, snuggling into his side. “Knowing you well enough to be able to sense when you’re about to-- well. That’s its own kind of victory.” She ducks her head against his chest, as if hiding her blush. “That’s a really powerful kind of intimacy.”

“The best kind,” he says. “There are more of those,” he whispers into her hair.

“More of what?” Leigh tips her head back to meet his eyes.

“Intimate ways of knowing.”

“You mean how I know you’re about to make a comparison between what I said and some ridiculous made-up thing, like when I’ll learn to have a cheeseburger ready for you the second you are done working in the lab for an indeterminate amount of time?” she asks, giving him a penetrating look.

He was about to say something exactly like that, so he twists his lips petulantly. “Yes.”

“Don’t worry. Someday soon you’ll know when I hold those back, and you can feel loved by that experience, too.”

He already does.

Leigh and Tony's story is told in the story Exile All the Longer, coming someday to Tumblr but for now is on AO3.

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