Chapter Text
It takes a lot of time and patience to find a dom/sub dynamic that suits them both. Now that Steve knows about asexuality and aromantism—and now that he isn’t actively falling into subdrop while Tony does his best to mitigate things on the fly—they can start figuring out what Steve actually likes.
He has some idea, thanks to his experience with Peggy and Bucky. Tony is forever grateful for those two, because the more he learns about Steve’s past experience with doms, the more he wants to go back in time to strangle some people.
It wasn’t all because of abuse or selfishness. Steve tells him things slowly, in bits and pieces. Not everyone from his past was a complete reprobate, but it could have been a heck of a lot better.
The first thing Tony does after a lucid Steve confirms that he would like Tony to keep domming for him, is set them both up with the typical compatibility checklist that most doms and subs fill out nowadays when they’re looking for a serious relationship.
Steve’s mouth quirks a little when he sees it. These lists weren’t a thing when he was growing up, frequenting bars and dance halls, but he’s filled them out for SHIELD before, for his infamous contract with Rumlow.
“Did anyone explain it to you?” Tony wonders. He doesn’t know what terms they use now that Steve didn’t seventy years ago.
Steve’s cheeks flush. “Yeah.” He twiddles his pen anxiously. “There was a... facilitator there with us, to look everything over. It was all very...blunt. A lot less private than I was expecting.”
Tony blows out a breath. He isn’t surprised to hear about the facilitator. It even sounds like a reasonable, responsible idea, when attempting to set up a contract between two strangers. One of whom who has a lot less context to work with.
But knowing what he knows about Steve, and how uncomfortable he is talking about sex in general, he can imagine it was very unsettling being asked his preferences for kink by two people he barely knew.
“Well.” Tony sits back. “Just remember that these lists right now are about things you like outside of sex. What makes you feel floaty in scenes, or safe, or happy.”
Steve nods uncertainly and they both get to their lists.
Tony fills his out with that context in mind; the non-sexual things he likes doing with subs. He has some experience with Yinsen, and to him any good scene starts and ends with some non-sexual stuff, even if it’s just cuddling. He hasn’t been one to cut immediately to the act since his younger, much wilder days, and certainly not since Afghanistan.
Still, there are some things on the list that he is used to always associating with sex. Now though, he wonders if there are ways to de-sexualise some of these things. It would depend on what Steve would like, of course, but there’s no reason that bondage has to be a precursor to sex, or that impact play is inherently sexual.
Though, if you’re not getting off on getting hit, Tony can’t really see how it could be pleasurable. Maybe as a way to show obedience? Or the satisfaction of pleasing a dom? He isn’t a sub, so he can only imagine sometimes. He has a feeling that he’s put his finger on part of why Steve’s history with doms is so fraught.
It’s not like he’s the only sub to exist who doesn’t like impact play though, he thinks bitterly. It’s not something that has to be part of a dynamic or scene. Not even close. But it sure sounds like it happened often enough to Steve. Especially with Rumlow.
Tony shakes away the dark thoughts and looks back at Steve to see if he’s finished.
Steve is sitting at the kitchen island next to him, his bottom lip between his teeth as he hesitates over the list.
“How’s it going?” Tony probes, and he sees Steve’s lip whiten as he bites it harder before letting it go and looking up.
Steve rubs the back of his neck. “I guess... I’m finding it harder to decide things than I thought. I haven’t thought about scenes like this... ever, I suppose. And it’s hard figuring out what I actually like when I don’t have to worry about the other stuff.”
“Why don’t you take some time to think about it?” Tony suggests, his stomach a clenched knot. “You don’t have to figure everything out at once.”
They take their time with it. He and Steve begin spending more time around each other in a natural effort to get to know each other better before they start trying to do scenes.
Tony can tell Steve isn’t doing amazingly in the interim. It’s hardly surprising, with what Tony knows about Rumlow, and the obvious signs of distress he saw when Steve was in subdrop. He tries not to think too hard about whether Steve is still self-harming, and when the last time he was in proper subspace before that drop.
He doesn’t want to rush this, and hopefully they have some time before Steve’s stress pushes him into another drop.
They don’t talk a lot about the scene lists, but Steve is clearly thinking about them.
“You know,” he says one day in the lab. He’s sitting on Tony’s old couch with a sketchbook in his lap, though he hasn’t drawn much, mostly stared into space while Tony worked.
“I think... at the beginning, the doms I had weren’t so bad.”
Tony tries not to scare off the conversation by overreacting. “Yeah?” he says as casually as possible, continuing to tinker with the thruster on the table.
Steve hums in reply, his eyes distant. “I think... especially at first... a lot of my doms were trying to work with me. I didn’t...” His lips press together. “I didn’t know what I liked either. I thought everyone must feel a bit nervous and uncomfortable with sex, and I figured it would go away and start being good if I just got used to it but...”
Tony can see him biting the inside of his cheek, but he doesn’t interrupt Steve’s faraway gaze.
“I liked subspace. When I was first starting out, with doms as inexperienced as I was, we didn’t go all the way to sex, so I got a taste of subspace, and it was good.” Steve sucks in a breath. “But of course, I always knew, eventually, that sex would happen.”
He spins his pencil, a frown on his face as he stares at it.
“I even told some of my doms that I wanted to get better at it. Get more comfortable with it, be able to stay in subspace when it was happening. It was so hard for me, and I just thought I needed to get less nervous. I would get so frustrated with myself sometimes.”
He swallows. “It made a lot of sense to me when some of my doms suggested rewards and punishments to... to motivate me.”
Tony’s stomach clenches but he keeps his mouth shut.
“I think... I think a lot of them were trying to help me. And, part of the reason I had so many was because most of them could tell we weren’t compatible after a while, so they let me go, cuz they weren’t the right dom for me. But I—”
The pencil stills as Steve clenches it in his fist. “It made me feel like a failure. A bad sub. I couldn’t be what my doms wanted, and I didn’t know why, because I was trying so hard.”
His voice breaks and he breathes in slowly.
“And I think... I started to think I deserved worse doms. The ones that just hurt me, or left me close to subdrop. They told me I was a bad sub, and I believed I was a bad sub. And being miserable all the time without any good scenes or proper subspace wasn’t helping anything.”
Steve takes a shaky breath and blinks hard. “It was around that time that Bucky really started speaking up. He... didn’t like the headspace I was comin’ home in, and didn’t like seein’ bruises on me. He told me—”
Steve sucks in a breath and swallows hard. “He said, ‘You get bruises enough outside of scenes, that’s not what you need in subspace’.”
Steve smiles a little ruefully, the memory of Bucky seeming to settle him a little. He actually looks at Tony now, eyes shifting out of the distant haze of reminiscence.
“I was in a real bad place there, before I gave up doms altogether. I was real lucky I had Bucky. We didn’t have any books, or, or these online forums for him to learn from, but somehow he knew how to help me. At least, as much as I was able to accept it at the time.”
Sadness clouds Steve’s face before he shakes it away, resetting his shoulders.
“Anyway. All of this—” He waves a hand. “It’s got me thinking a lot. Not all my doms were like Rumlow. I just... Sometimes I wonder how things would’ve been if we knew more back then. Or...”
Steve sighs. “Or, if I didn’t try to push myself before it was too late for me to accept what Bucky and Peggy were trying to do.”
Tony clears his throat. He doesn’t know what to say. He can only imagine all that Steve has been through and what a mess his experience with doms has been, but he feels like he has to say something.
“It’s not your fault, you know,” he says gruffly. He meets Steve’s eyes for a moment before he has to focus back on his thruster. He picks a screw at random and begins to tighten it.
“If everything’s telling you, I mean like, every book and movie and relationship you see is telling you you gotta sub a certain way, of course you’re gonna think your scenes are supposed’ta have sex. And I bet everyone you talked to would say the same.”
He shrugs. “If you gotta sub so you don’t get subsick or subdrop, and there’s only one accepted way to do that... what else could you be expected to learn?”
He glances up at Steve to see him biting his lips and blinking rapidly at his sketchbook.
“Right,” he says roughly.
oOo
Steve turns in his sheets after a few weeks of thinking them over. He has a few strong no’s, a few absolute yes’s, and a bunch of question marks on things he might be willing to try in the future, if it isn’t sexual. They won’t be testing anything unknown for their first scene.
No, they are not taking any chances with that.
The first scene they try is one they discuss at length beforehand. It’s based off something Steve said Bucky would do to try to help keep him from falling into subdrop.
Anxiety twists knots in Tony’s gut as he prepares. It’s not the headspace he wants to be in going into this scene. It’s just that he knows this will be hard for Steve. He wants so, so badly for this to go well.
Every little decision feels like desperate handholds on a mountain face.
Should they do the scene in Steve’s room or Tony’s? Would he be more comfortable in his own space, or would attempting something so difficult for him taint that space instead? Should he use pet names or keep things professional? Are there nicknames that would trigger Steve because of past doms, or would he feel rejected by Tony if things didn’t feel personal enough? How much touch is okay? Should Tony avoid any touching for their first scene, or would that distress Steve if he made it to subspace? What aftercare does he like? How do they figure that out if Steve isn’t sure?
What safe words does he have, and will he use them?
That last question took up the last few weeks as they prepared for their first scene. Steve understood about modern safewords, but saying ‘no’ or ‘stop’ was not something he allowed himself to do with a good number of his past doms, and Rumlow actively punished him if he did.
Before they could even attempt anything, Tony needed to know Steve could at least try to safeword. They made a game of it, with Steve answering ‘green’, ‘yellow’, or ‘red’ to simple things like Tony asking for a tool in the lab, or a suggestion for dinner.
It seemed to help soften the words somewhat for Steve, which is why Tony is willing to try this scene now.
He tries to quiet the thousands of doubts and fears swarming in his mind as he prepares the scene. In the end, they decided to do it in his living room. Tony has a lot of scene supplies in his apartment, so if this works out and they continue their arrangement, it will be good for them to get comfortable here.
He lays out the kneeling pillow, selects his book, dims the lights, adjusts the thermostat and changes into his comfiest, most worn-in band shirt and sweatpants.
He wants this to be soothing. The most care taken with the least amount of expectations possible.
Finally, the room is ready.
They aren’t quite comfortable with each other yet, and it shows. Steve is tense as he arrives, eyes darting over every corner of the room. He tries to give Tony a smile, the attempt more heartbreaking than anything else.
He’s dressed in comfortable clothes like Tony asked, his hands flexing by his sides and his shoulders rounded in unease—and probably a bit of embarrassment.
At the sight of Steve, something inside Tony settles. This is his job to fix. He can do that. One step at a time.
“Hey,” he says softly. “Nothing’s gonna happen that we didn’t talk about.”
Steve’s jaw flexes and he nods, the muscles in his neck stiff as iron rods.
Tony’s hands itch with the urge to massage the tension out of him, but that is definitely not on the table today.
He gestures Steve over to the living room couch where he put the kneeling pillow. He can feel the thrum of Steve’s nervous energy behind him like the pulse of an overworked generator. Tony breathes in slowly and lets it out quietly.
He sits down on the couch, book at his elbow. He keeps his posture casual, not commanding.
“I want you to kneel for me while I read to you,” he says quietly. “What are your safe words?”
Steve swallows but sucks in a determined breath through his nose. “Green for good,” he recites, like a student taking a test. “Yellow for slow down. And red for,” his hands flex. “Red for stop.”
Tony nods and lets a smile warm his face. “Yes, good job, sweetheart.”
The effect is immediate.
Steve ducks his head and hunches his shoulders in a way that makes Tony want to wrap him up in blankets and never let him go. Already, with just those few words, he’s beginning to let go a little.
“Thank you, s—” Steve bites back the ‘sir’, peeking up at Tony. His fingers wind together as he begins to wring them, but the anxiety is more shy now, rather than afraid.
Oh, Steve, Tony’s chest squeezes. Deep down, Steve really is such an easy sub. It should not have been so hard for him to find a good dom.
“Come sit,” Tony says, gesturing at the pillow.
Steve moves easier now, more confident as he settles on his knees on the pillow. This, Tony was expecting, but then Steve folds his arms behind his back, holding an elbow in each hand.
“Hands on your knees, sweetheart,” Tony corrects. This is meant to be comfortable for Steve, if he wants to try those poses, and this isn’t some ingrained thing from past, harsher doms, they can try those in another session.
Steve complies right away, his back straight as he rests his hands on his knees. He’s still tense, especially now that Tony is behind him. Tony has situated himself to the left, so he isn’t directly behind Steve, but the position does leave him vulnerable.
“Alright,” Tony breathes. “Sit like that for me while I read.” Tony picks up his book. “When your knees start to get sore, I want you to tell me ‘yellow’, understand?”
“Yes,” Steve rasps.
Normally, Tony would have his own mental timer and have Steve shift positions before he got sore, but he wants Steve to practice using safewords.
“I do not want you to hurt,” Tony tells him firmly. “I am not expecting you to hold position for a certain amount of time. As soon as you start feeling sore, you tell me.”
Steve’s shoulders relax a little. “Yes,” he says again.
Tony sees his throat bob as Steve swallows back another ‘sir’. He can understand. He wants this session to be about Steve, but even to him it feels like something is missing without something at the end of Steve’s sentences.
“You can call me Tony,” he reminds him. The one word they found that didn’t make the lines around Steve’s mouth tighten on use.
Steve swallows and nods and Tony doesn’t make him respond. Steve has called enough doms enough things. Tony doesn’t want to push it and make the scene harder than it needs to be.
Steve’s nerves about subbing is his main concern today. Even though Steve knows they won’t stray from anything they haven’t discussed, that doesn’t make this easy.
Tony shifts to pull one knee up on the couch, watching out of the corner of his eye as Steve’s back tenses, then relaxes at the movement. Moving with calm deliberateness, Tony opens his book in his lap and begins to read aloud.
Complex Variables for Mathematics and Engineering is not meant to be an interesting read, at least, not for Steve. As smart as Steve is, he admitted easily that reading math textbooks is not high on his list of ‘fun activities. Reading them aloud is not usually Tony’s cup of tea, but he wants something Steve can zone out to.
A way he can just focus on Tony’s voice and the weight of his body on the pillow.
Tony isn’t sure if Steve will be able to relax during it. His thoughts might continue to race and the dull text might let his imagination run wild, but that’ll just be something they have to find out.
Tony reads for a while, keeping an eye on Steve’s back for any negative signs. He’s gratified to see Steve’s stiff posture gradually start to relax. He can see the side of Steve’s face and his eyes are half-lidded, gaze unfocused.
Tony smiles softly to himself and keeps reading, senses primed for the next thing.
It comes when Steve shifts his weight. Tony knows that if Steve were focused, he’d be able to hold this pose for hours without moving. That isn’t what Tony wants though, and even if Steve could do it, that wouldn’t stop him from being sore afterwards.
He’s also fairly certain that as Steve’s mind drifts closer to subspace, he will forget what Tony asked him.
“Steve,” Tony prompts gently. “What’s your colour now?”
Steve blinks slowly, his hands squeezing his knees as he processes.
“Oh. um.” It takes a second for him to pull up the word. “Yellow.”
Tony smiles and tries to infuse his words with praise. “Good job, that’s exactly what I wanted, sweetheart.”
Steve’s body loosens even further and he chances a glance back at Tony, a small smile on his lips.
“Stretch out your legs for me,” Tony instructs. “Then when they feel better, I want you to sit crosslegged on the pillow. Colour?”
“Green,” Steve says. “Tony,” he adds as he moves, leaning back against the couch with his legs out in front of him. His hand brushes the floor near Tony’s foot and he bites his lip. His fingers flex before he draws them into his lap.
Tony wiggles his foot a little. “Hold on to me if you want, sweetheart.”
Invisible lines ease in Steve’s shoulders and a warm hand grasps the top of Tony’s foot. A second later, Steve hesitantly, rests his head sideways against Tony’s knee.
“Good,” Tony whispers.
He has to physically stop himself from reaching out to pet Steve’s hair by gripping the cover of his book tighter. Not yet. He doesn’t want to spook him.
He keeps reading, listening to the slow and steady sound of Steve’s breath and letting the warmth of his hand leech into his toes.
Steve pulls his legs back to sit crosslegged, and as he does so, he turns himself a little to make it easier to curl around Tony’s leg.
Tony ducks his head a little as he smiles. A thrill rushes through him, tingling in the ends of his fingers. This is what he wanted. This is what fulfills him as a dom. It doesn’t matter if it’s sexual or platonic such as now.
The trust, the vulnerability, the show of comfort. For a lot of his life he didn’t see himself as someone who deserved that, so being able to get his subs into that place was more than a point of pride. It was the only proof he had that he was more than the flighty, irresponsible son of a Merchant of Death.
Tony pushes those thoughts away. This isn’t about proving something, except for maybe proving to Steve that they can scene together without sex or pain.
Tony reads another page after Steve gets settled before he lets himself reach out.
“Gonna touch your hair, pet,” he warns softly before letting himself touch the downy strands.
Steve breathes in quickly, his hand briefly tenses on Tony’s foot, before he turns further into the touch. His forehead presses hard against Tony’s knee, a soft noise escaping his throat.
“Breathe,” Tony whispers, keeping his touch light as he watches the tension roll through Steve’s body.
Steve breathes out and slumps. His head is still pressed against Tony’s knee, the couch taking most of his weight while his arm wraps around Tony’s leg to hold onto his ankle.
“Good,” Tony breathes and Steve shivers. “Just like that, sweetheart.”
Tony lets his pets grow a little heavier, a bit more grounding, taking his cue from the desperate way Steve seeks connection. He needs this, the gentle touch. He was without it for far too long.
As he runs his fingers through Steve’s hair, Steve rubs his forehead into Tony’s leg with little, tiny movements back and forth. Tony keeps a gentle, holding hand on Steve’s head and shifts a little so the softer part of his thigh is there, instead of his bony knee.
Steve squeezes Tony’s foot once and his breaths warm his leg as he leans against him.
“Such a good sub,” Tony whispers to him, knowing he needs to hear it, just as Steve needs to keep his face hidden in his leg to receive the compliment.
A soft sound close to a whimper escape lips pressed tight and Tony moves his hand down to the nape of Steve’s neck, petting the hair there.
He keeps them there for a while longer, letting them both bask in the feeling. There’s a part of him that still can’t believe he gets this. How Rumlow could have wasted this gift is beyond him.
Eventually, he has to move onto the last part of the scene.
He drags his hand up to the crown of Steve’s head and brushes a thumb against his brow.
“You listening, sweetheart?”
Steve nods against his leg.
Tony breathes in quietly to prepare himself. This will probably be the hardest part of the scene.
“Okay,” he says quietly. “You’re doing so well for me. I’m very happy with you.”
Steve gives a resonate hum, which lets Tony know he truly is close to or in subspace. Anxiety pricks at his gut, but he pushes on.
He rubs the short hairs by Steve’s temple with his thumb, keeping his voice warm.
“Alright, I need you to do one last thing for me.” He waits for a beat before continuing. “I need you to tell me to stop.”
The tension is immediate. Steve’s fingers dig into his ankle and his other hand comes up to grip Tony’s pant leg.
“You don’t have to do it right away,” Tony continues calmly. “When you’re ready, sweetheart. You’re not in trouble. I’m not going to be mad. I need to know you will tell me 'stop' when you’re like this. It’s just practice.”
He keeps talking, letting his voice fill the space as Steve gets used to the idea. This was something they discussed before the scene, Tony isn’t springing this on him. It doesn’t make it easy for Steve, not with his history, and not near subspace as he is.
But this is something they both need to know, or neither of them will be comfortable in any of their scenes going forward.
“You’re not in trouble,” Tony repeats. “After you say it, I’ll stop petting you, and we’ll check in with how you’re feeling. After, I can keep petting your hair if you want, sweetheart. You don’t have to lose that permanently. It’s just practice.”
He doesn’t want the idea that Steve will have to lose the thing he actually wants to make using his safeword harder. He wants Steve to be able to associate good things with using his safeword.
Minutes tick by. Tony keeps his touch rhythmic and soothing, every bit of his brain focused on keeping loose and calm. He doesn’t want Steve to feel pressured or that Tony is getting frustrated waiting.
Steve tenses several times, his throat working as he tries to say the word. His hand clenches on Tony’s pants and he breathes in.
“R–red.”
Tony lifts his hand the instant he says it. Steve’s head comes up, face pale and eyes wide.
“Good,” Tony praises firmly. “Good. You did so well.”
Steve sucks in a shaky breath and Tony slips off the couch to sit so he isn’t above him. He puts a hand over where Steve’s still clings to his pants.
“Breathe.”
Steve gasps another breath, his eyes shiny with a sheen of tears. He keeps breathing though, slower and deeper as he goes.
Tony gives his hand an encouraging squeeze. “There you go. So good for me. I know how tough that was.”
I know it’s hard was something Rumlow used to say before raping Steve, so Tony is very careful to keep those words out of his mouth.
Steve nods and turns his hand so he can squeeze Tony’s back.
“How are you feeling?”
Steve bites his lip, eyes on the floor as he shrugs. Tony reaches instinctively to smooth his lip away from his teeth.
Steve flinches, then freezes halfway, round uncertain eyes watching Tony with alarm.
Tony’s stomach swoops, because this has the potential of spiralling very quickly.
“It’s okay,” Tony says quickly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Steve shakes his head quickly, stiffness sweeping through his muscles, even as his hand stays in Tony’s.
“No. I mean— I know. I didn’t mean to— I’m sorry.”
Tony circles his thumb over the back of Steve’s hand.
“It’s okay, you’re allowed to flinch.” Steve stops, eyes searching Tony’s. “You’re allowed to get scared. I won’t get mad, or hurt you because of it.”
Steve’s throat bobs as he swallows. “Thank you.”
Tony’s stomach twists. This is not a kindness Steve should feel he must be grateful for. He does not want to think of the times he was punished simply for anticipating pain.
Tony rubs another circle into Steve’s hand. “I was just gonna stop you from biting your lip,” he continues. “I don’t want you hurting yourself, sweety.”
Steve’s head ducks in pleased embarrassment and Tony knows they’ve managed to stabilise the tilting ship.
“How are you feeling?” Tony asks again.
Steve takes a slow breath, he starts to bite his lip but licks them at the last moment. Tony rewards him with an approving hand squeeze and a smile.
“Okay, I think,” Steve replies. “A little...” He holds up his other hand to show it trembling faintly. “But my head’s okay. Not... not spinning.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Tony says, with another hand-squeeze. “This’ll sort of be what’ll happen if you ever have to safeword during a scene. We stop, reset, and figure out what to do next. Usually aftercare, or a readjustment somewhere.”
Steve takes in a shuddering breath and blinks away the wetness in his eyes.
“So,” Tony continues. “You’re feeling a little shaky.” He keeps the options simple. “Do you want to keep petting, or blankets and a movie?”
Petting would mean continuing the scene, while blankets and a movie is more of an aftercare activity.
“I want—” Steve’s words choke off and his cheeks flush. He ducks his head, swaying towards Tony. “Petting,” he mumbles.
Tony has to bite back an adoring ‘aww’. He doesn’t think Steve is ready to be teased, even if he is incredibly cute and endearing as he struggles to ask for something so soft.
Instead he rewards Steve with an immediate pet. He moves with care and Steve doesn’t flinch. His eyes peek up, and his blush immediately deepens when he sees Tony’s wide, pleased smile.
“Perfect,” Tony tells him. “Absolutely perfect.”
He has Steve come up onto the couch with him. Steve has been sitting for a while and Tony wants to give his tailbone a break. He puts a pillow on his lap to cut off any worries about coersive blowjobs at the bud.
He has Steve lay down next to him and rest his head on the pillow where Tony can easily pet him.
“Colour?”
“Green, Tony,” Steve whispers softly, body already starting to relax into the cushions.
Tony lays his hand in Steve’s hair. Steve is so warm. He says it’s the serum. He used to have poor circulation, with chilled fingers and toes all throughout his childhood. At least he doesn’t have to worry about that now.
He admitted reluctantly to Tony while they were going through their sheets that he doesn’t do so well with the cold anymore.
Tony will keep him warm. They can rest like this for a while, with only the sounds of their breathing and the soft swish of Steve’s hair as Tony runs his fingers through it.
Eventually he will bring the scene to an end. He’ll get Steve up, maybe encourage a shower after making his hair greasy from all the petting. Then will come the blankets and movies, letting both of them decompress and make sure neither of them drops post-scene.
Then there will be discussions. They'll figure out what worked in the scene, if anything needs to change, and decide how to move forward.
But for now, Tony pets Steve’s hair and lets them both bask in the warm silence.