Work Text:
“Tony, have you seen my…” Steve didn’t bother finishing his question when he spotted his partner lounging on the couch in the communal floor, nose buried in one of his tablets.
“Seen your what?” When he didn’t respond, Tony angled his head in Steve’s direction, looking wide-eyed and expectant. One brow arched up in curiosity. “Seen your what, Steve? Use your words.”
He’d use his words if he were able. Steve was dumbstruck at the sight of Tony in one of his thick-knit sweaters; he looked to almost drown in the fabric, with the hem falling past his hips and the sleeves longer than his fingertips. Steve felt a flush creep up the back of his neck as mine and home bounced around in his head.
“You’re wearing my sweater,” Steve said dumbly, making his way around to stand in front of Tony. He merely blinked up at Steve from his seat, looking smaller than he’d ever been, and for some reason, it sent a lick of fire in Steve’s veins.
Tony threw him an unimpressed look, returning his attention the schematics on his tablet. “Beautiful observation, Sherlock, I’m sure you – hey! I’m using that!”
Steve haphazardly tossed the tablet to the other side of the couch, muttering a quiet, “Not anymore,” before he gripped Tony’s chin with his fingers and pulled him into a firm kiss. Tony melted into the gesture, sighing into Steve’s mouth, work be damned.
Tony wrapped his arms lazily around Steve’s waist when he climbed into Tony’s lap, knees bracing his legs. He eventually pulled back, just to leave wet, open-mouthed kisses along the edge of Tony’s jaw and the column of his throat.
“Fuck,” Tony breathed out, voice heavy with lust. He leaned his head back on the couch, giving Steve better access to his neck. “What the hell got into you?”
Steve’s mouth curled up in a smile. He nipped at Tony’s exposed collar before running his tongue over it soothingly. He repeated boldly, as if it was so obvious, “You’re wearing my sweater.”
