#broken bed

Scrubbing a hand through his hair, Tony shook his head.

Tony really needed to get Steve Rogers laid.

“Is Legalos okay?” Tony asked, watching his words appear in the text conversation.

 Legolas: Hanging in. Just do something with Cap, will ya?

 “Will do,” Tony said slowly, watching his message appear.

He thought he’d had this handled. He really did.

Someone had to deal with it. Since they’d found him in the ice, Tony could count on one hand how many times Cap had “dated.” And he was pretty sure only one or two of those actually resulted in sex. And it couldn’t have been decent sex because neither relationship had lasted long.

It was hard to go out with civvies because they didn’t understand the weeks team members would be sent off with no communication. And if that didn’t run them off, the celebrity did.

If Cap didn’t have that morality stick so far up his ass, he would have set him up with a professional. Tony grinned. At times, he wanted to do that anyway just to get a rise out of the old man.

“Show me the development lab.”

Another screen appeared and Tony saw his small crew of developers.

Then there was you.

You weren’t his usual developer. Most were guys with no necks who either lived in their mom’s basement or lived in apartments with other “gamer dudes” and participated in big online tournaments when they weren’t working for Tony. He was pretty sure two of these on his team thought they were honest-to-God Sith Lords.

You were something different. A woman trying to make it in an arena dominated by men. When he got your application, he honestly expected a Lisbeth Salander type who was edgy and goth.

You couldn’t have been more different from what he envisioned. Lovely, curvy, with big eyes and an innocent smile. You had a big laugh and a great sense of humor. You were easy to talk to and remarkably normal for a young woman nowadays.

It was at the end of your first month when it clicked that you were not only going to be a great asset for his team, but you could also possibly serve another important function for the Avengers.

And thus, Tony Stark’s ultimate plan to dismantle Steve Rogers was born.

 Step 1. The Right Bait

Surprisingly, Cap didn’t seem to have an issue with dating people he worked with. Especially since the few he’d gone out with so far had been from the compound.

Unlike the others, by the time you’d been there for seven months, you understood how their lives worked. You understood that the Avengers were sent out on life and death missions and communication wasn’t always possible. You had pretty much become Tony’s right hand, especially since he and Pepper were still on a “break,” and you’d gone places with him as his protege. You didn’t mind the hordes of reporters and handled yourself exceptionally well.

So, a couple of months ago, Tony invited you to one of his parties the night after a mission that gone spectacularly well and saw everyone in high spirits. He’d introduced you to Steve.

While you did what you do with most everyone, engaged him in conversation and flirted with him, Steve was smitten. Sure, you’d explained to Tony that you were trying to get your life going before you threw a relationship on top of it. But one look at America’s Golden Boy and your mind started to change.

Meanwhile, Steve pursued you in a way he hadn’t the others. Tony understood why. You were brilliant, beautiful, honest, and self-deprecating. Wilson had been interested in you too, but Barnes warned him off before Tony had to get involved. The two of you started going out. Problem solved, right?

Wrong.

Tony really tried not to violate the privacy of the team or his employees. He really did. That he had requested that Friday let him know the next time Cap had sex wasn’t an invasion of privacy per se. It was ensuring the mental well-being of the team’s leader. An important distinction.

Friday hadn’t brought him news of sex yet and it vexed him.

The one thing he most wanted and expected out of the arrangement and it hadn’t happened. Steve didn’t do hookups. Well, you weren’t the type either. You were more the solid relationship type which is what gave him the idea in the first place. He just hoped Cap didn’t scare you off because by now he knew the old man was probably thinking about picket fences, kids, pet dogs, where to place the flagpole…

Tony just needed Steve to use his flagpole so he could stop being a pain in everyone’s ass and they could all relax for a little while.

Tony watched the two of you when he saw you together. When you weren’t looking, Steve eyed you with a thirst that honestly took Tony off guard but confirmed his suspicions. The First Avenger was backed up.

Called it.

And you certainly weren’t the problem. When Steve wasn’t looking, you looked like you wanted to climb him like a stripper pole.

What did he need to do here?

Scrubbing a hand down his face, Tony pondered the problem. Then he had Friday gather a few facts for him. A couple of interesting items on Rogers’ web history certainly raised his eyebrows.

Then he came up with an answer, clapping his hands together in delight as he sorted through the odds and ends.

Tony could make this work.

For reasons he didn’t remember, he’d agreed to let a group of MIT students come tour the facility.

No time like the present.

He knew just what to do.

 ***

 Step 2.  Proper Motivation

You were tired and your feet were killing you. But then today had been quite a bit out of the ordinary.

Normally, you were behind a computer screen working on whatever project you were given for Stark Industries. You wore your jeans, your chucks, a trendy sweater or top.

Unless you had a date with Steve. Then you’d dress up a little.

You blew out a sigh at that thought.

You’d been seeing Steve for the last couple of months and you were still trying to get your head around that. You were seeing Steve Rogers. The Captain America.

The novelty of that had worn off pretty quickly though. Behind the legend, the shield, the hero? Was a pretty incredible guy. Yeah, he was gorgeous. No one could deny that.

You hadn’t dated a lot, but you’d never gone out with someone so polite and classy. He opened doors for you, carried things for you, let you pick out the movies you went to see, the restaurants where you ate. He’d walk you back to your apartment in the compound but didn’t press to come inside, seeming content to kiss you goodnight at the door.

It was endearing how shy he seemed.

The one night you’d managed to get him to come into your apartment, you’d ended up talking over beers on your couch. You’d been comfortable. You reminded him of a show you’d mentioned earlier in the evening, asked if he’d watch the first episode with you and he agreed. When you tried to play the second episode, he grabbed the remote from you, holding it out of your reach with a smirk and reminding you that you both had work in the morning.

In trying to get the remote, you’d laughed and climbed into the man’s lap. You didn’t immediately realize that you’d straddled his lap with your breasts practically in his face.

“You’re really stealing a lady’s remote, Captain Rogers?” you’d teased him.

That realization and the embarrassment that went with it didn’t even have time to hit. Next thing you knew Steve was kissing the life out of you, pulling you down against him. His hands had been in your hair, his slim hips pressed up between your jean-clad thighs. And he’d been hard, the hot length of him nudging into your lady parts in a way that had you going from watch-tv-with-me to ride-me-daddy in about ten seconds flat.

You’d trembled in his grasp, the move not unwelcome. It had just taken you completely off guard.

Just as quickly as it started, Steve had pulled his mouth from you and eased back from you carefully. You could only guess that you were staring at him in something between fear and lust. You swore his eyes darkened as his gaze moved over you.

“God, I’m sorry,” Steve told you after a minute, gently lifting you to sit you next to him.

“What?” Your body had crazy currents of craving running all through it. What just happened? Did he just stop?

He’d ran a hand through his golden hair, his face coloring as he struggled to meet your gaze.

“That was uncalled for,” he muttered. “I’m sorry.”

Your brain cells were going haywire, there was a disconnect. Why was he sorry?

“Huh?”

Steve smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead before rising from your couch to head for the door while your body buzzed and trembled. You could tell by his high color, the way he was literally trying to escape your apartment that he was... Not embarrassed. No, that wasn’t it.

What you didn’t understand was why?

“Steve?” You’d jumped up to follow him to the door. “It’s okay. Really. I mean…”

You watched his spine straighten as he smiled at you softly. You liked that smile.

“Tomorrow we’re headed out,” he explained. “I’ve got an early morning. I’d better go. Goodnight, Sweetheart. I’ll talk to you when we get back.”

With that, he pressed another kiss to your forehead, and he was gone.

What just happened?

You made excuses for him in your head. Maybe he was tired. Maybe he was waiting for a night when you had more time to do more than make out?

The further into the night you got, the more you thought about it.

Maybe he wasn’t attracted to you that way? Honestly, you weren’t in Steve Rogers’ league. You weren’t even in the same hemisphere. Just maybe you were fooling yourself in thinking you could make things work with the first Avenger no matter how nice he was. If you looked like him, would you want you?

Your gloom carried into the next day and the next. As of today, Steve had been gone for almost four weeks. There’d been no word from him or the team but that was the norm. So out of the two months you’d been “dating” he’d only actually been around maybe two and a half weeks.  

Were you dating though?

“Hey,” Tony Stark came up behind you, pulling a face to mimic yours before flashing you a bright smile. “We’ve got a big day ahead.”

“Do we?” Had you missed something?

After a beat, he dropped the grin. “Okay, I need your help with something. I’ve got a group of MIT kids coming to tour the place today, I scheduled it for the wrong date with Friday, and I need you to manage that.”

Okay, that was new.

“Why?” you asked before your brain could stop you.

“Future developers,” Tony said evenly. “As a developer, wouldn’t you be the best one to answer their questions?”

You supposed.

“When do they get here?” you wanted to know so you could put out any fires being away from your job to do this would cause.

Shrugging a shoulder, Tony said, “In about an hour and thirty-seven minutes. Just enough time for you to get changed.”

“Changed?” What was this?

“Pepper always prefers for us to dress up for the kids for tours,” Tony went on nonchalantly. “Make an impression.”

You had maybe one decent maxi skirt and sweater. Yeah, you knew you needed to get more. Just in case you ever got to go somewhere dressy with Steve Rogers…

“And I’ve got you covered,” Tony went on like he’d read your mind. “Everything should have already been delivered to your room. All you have to do is go put it on.”

What? “How do you know what size—”

“Friday,” Tony said with a smirk.

“And you want me to—”

“Yep,” Tony was already heading back out of the lab. “Meet you back here in an hour or so.”

Fuck my life.

Tony was a great boss and an even better friend. But he’d just come into your day like the Tasmania devil and upended it. You were lucky you were ahead on everything on the job so you could go do this for him.

“See you in a little while,” you told Clark as you passed him on your way out.

“I’ll take the last bit on the Iron Legion upgrades,” he told you.

“I’ll do it tomorrow,” you assured him. “But I appreciate it.”

“You’re marked off tomorrow,” Clark explained. “You’re not back on until Monday.”

What?

Tomorrow was Friday. Why had you been marked off Friday?

You were so confused.

 ***

 Steve Rogers wasn’t happy.

They’d made it back to the compound in mostly one piece and Fury was lucky they had. Everything they’d been told about the mission had been wrong.

Sam had gotten blown out of the sky, Bucky’s arm was going to need repairs, and Clint? The first thing Steve did was get Clint to medical so they could take care what Steve considered to be a pretty serious chest injury.

On top of that, Tony had decided to fucking update the jet in such a way that Steve was lost on how to fly the damn thing. They had RPGs coming at them heavy, Clint out of commission, and for a couple of moments, Steve had wondered if they were even going to be able to achieve flight.

Bucky pulled it off with Clint’s instructions and they returned early, beaten up, and empty-handed.

Speaking of empty-handed, Steve’s mind drifted off to you as it did often.

When Tony introduced him to you at the party that night, Steve had been blown away. You were gorgeous. You were charming, funny, had a sharp mind and had an outgoing spirit that intimidated him a little at first. Steve didn’t just open up to people when he first met them, it took some time. When he realized that was just your way with everyone, he was a little disappointed, but it didn’t stop him from asking you out.

When you’d said yes, he’d been ecstatic. He’d taken you out on a few dates and really enjoyed your company. Everything about you put him at ease. He’d caught up a lot on culture since they’d pulled him from the ice but If you stumbled on something he wasn’t familiar with, you didn’t try to educate him. You effortlessly shifted the conversation back to where he was comfortable. He’d look it up later.

Best of all, you didn’t seem to mind he was a little old-fashioned when it came to how he dated. At the compound working with Tony, you handled yourself with enough confidence to match any man.

With him, you seemed able and willing to put that aside and be demure. You didn’t patiently tolerate him opening doors for you or carrying things. You flashed him that innocent little smile and said thank you, every damn time.

The entire submissive demeanor you took on for him… it just drove him crazy.

You found excuses to touch him through your dates. Your hand on his forearm, his bicep, your head on his shoulder at the movie theatre. One night your hand landed on his thigh at the theatre as you got up from your seat to get popcorn. He wasn’t proud of it, but just that simple touch had him rock hard for the rest of the date.

The last night he’d seen you before this mission, he’d finally accepted your invitation into your apartment. It had been innocent enough, watching television for a few minutes. When you’d climbed across him to get your remote and then playfully called him Captain Rogers, he’d literally lost his mind. He’d acted before he thought about it, grabbing you and claiming that beautiful mouth the way he really wanted to, grinding up into you while he held you there. Being so good for him…

Steve had barely gotten a hold of himself enough to stop. He’d scared the shit out of you. You’d looked at him wide-eyed, heart flying. Trembling. He’d made you tremble.

Steve had gotten himself out of there. He hadn’t been lying about the early morning he had the next day. Not to mention that part of him wanted to stay and comfort you, apologize for attacking you as he had.

Another part of him wanted to carry you into your bedroom and see if you were submissive there too.

You’d followed him to the door, looking uncertain, a little scared. That only fed into the darker desires he’d developed since he came out of the ice. When he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead, it was the only thing he trusted himself to do, he picked up a change in your scent. Beneath the rain scent of your shampoo, and the cherry blossom lotion you used, something tart, sweet reached him.

Steve knew the smell of fear well on people. He caught it often. There was just the slightest hint of that.

No, it was something else.

Had you been as aroused as he had been?

That question had haunted him all through the mission.

Had he messed things up with you? It had been four weeks and he’d had no way to contact you. Were you still going out with him? Were you still even interested after that?

Would you be a good girl if he wanted you to be?

“Steve?”

He looked up from the information screen he’d filled out in medical for Clint to see Sam and Bucky waiting for him. Like him, they’d showered, gotten into street clothes. He could tell from the wary look in Bucky’s eyes that things weren’t getting better.

“Fury’s out until tomorrow,” Sam said carefully. “He didn’t know we were coming back early. Debrief’s going to happen tomorrow afternoon.”

Fuck.

Steve wanted nothing more than to give Fury a piece of his mind about the fucked-up intel they’d been sent to pursue. Then he wanted to give Tony a piece of his mind about ensuring when he made changes to the jets – or any fucking thing they’d be using on missions – that the entire team including him knew what changed and what to do.

Well, Tony was here.

“I was going up to let Tony know about the suit,” Sam told him, but Steve held a hand up.

“I’ll let him know,” Steve said with as much patience as he could muster. It wasn’t much.

Both of them stepped back, knowing that Tony would catch the brunt of their captain’s temper. Steve preferred to get in from missions and get debriefing out of the way so he could relax, catch up on everyday tasks he never felt he ever caught up on. Knowing that wouldn’t happen only made his mood worse.

When he reached Tony’s level of the compound, he expected to find Tony tooling around his lab. If Tony didn’t piss him off worse, he thought maybe he’d surprise you. See if he could apologize, see where things stood with you. If they still stood…

Steve didn’t expect what he walked into.

A group of mostly young men was gathered in Tony’s lab, viewing a presentation. He would have walked off and just gotten everything off his chest the next day when Fury returned except that he saw you, sitting in the front of the lab. When the screen the group watched darkened and the lights came up, you stepped before it, apparently leading the presentation.

He had to do a double-take honestly because at first, he didn’t recognize you.

Now, Steve had no problem whatsoever with how you normally looked and dressed. Your figure-hugging jeans and soft tops and sweaters more than showed off your gentle curves. The way your hair fell around your face and shoulders was graceful, soft. To Steve, you were lovely.

Right now?

Your long hair elaborately braided, showing off your long graceful neck and the smooth lines of your shoulders. A few loose curls framed your face, softened the look. That combined with the red lip you were wearing, you’d never done that before, had him wanting to see that lipstick smeared across your mouth, smeared across his cock as he got his fingers into that tidy braid and took it apart.

Just like he wanted to take you apart.

You wore an elegant blouse that dipped just enough to show a hint of your breasts and they were pushed up nicely, a tempting sight for a room full of young men about your age. It showed off your graceful arms, tapered down to the slim skirt you wore that draped to your knees with a sharp slit on one side. No lines ruined the drape of that skirt. What were you wearing under there? Anything at all?

Steve’s fists clenched at his sides. He eased along the wall slowly. You hadn’t noticed him through the glass walls. Your face was lit up by your smile as you spoke to the group. Steve just wanted to get a view of the rest of you.

He wasn’t disappointed. Sleek, high heels made your legs look endless. He couldn’t help but picture you wearing those heels, only those heels, in his bed…

When your presentation concluded and there were questions you were answering, your confidence growing as you spoke. Leaning against the wall, he was content to watch you for a moment, proud of you.

When Tony walked into the room, dressed in a suit which struck Steve as odd, he walked up to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and joining in the conversation. It ended not long after that and Steve stood by while the group of mostly young men filed out of the room, a couple of them recognizing him and trying to wave as they left.

Steve decided he’d wait for Tony to leave, he’d just talk to him tomorrow and get all of it off his chest at once. Right now, he wanted to try to catch up with you.

Only Tony wasn’t so quick to leave. His arm still wrapped around you, he pulled you into a tight embrace, speaking into your ear. He held you there a lot longer than Steve thought was necessary, long enough for it to prick at his anger.

He knew Tony had fallen out with Pepper and he was sorry for it. But was Tony trying to move in on his girl? You?

Tony laughed about something as he let you go. You grabbed your purse and a portfolio from the table in front of you. You said something to Tony over your shoulder, smiling. Tony walked back from the doorway to his office and swatted you on the ass – touched your ass – before coyly biting his lower lip and swaggering back through the doorway.

Steve had seen enough. He was done today.

Before you noticed him, he marched back the way he came.

 ***

 What the hell had gotten into Tony?

Managing the tour for the MIT students and going over the prefab presentation from Stark Industries? No problem at all. You’d pulled it off even though you weren’t one that enjoyed public speaking.

The whole outfit that he’d sent you to wear? You were still trying to get your head around it. Sure, it wasn’t unusual for Pepper to dress that way the few times you’d been in meetings with her. The blouse, skirt and heels? Fine. It was generous and you got that he wanted to put forth a certain image.

But sending lingerie to wear beneath it seemed a bit much. A thong, seamless stockings, and a bustier-style push-up bra?

You’d worn it, because yeah, it did make the outfit. And you weren’t going to lie, you liked how you looked. You looked pretty damn hot right now. You’d taken time with your hair, your makeup because you kind of had to.

But you’d also been a little worried. Had you missed something? Was Tony hitting on you? You didn’t think so. You’d never gotten that vibe from him. And with him introducing you to Steve…?

Tony had only said you look stunning, asked you to spin around for him. But his gaze was still that of a friend. He’d dressed up too but there was something still not making sense about the entire situation.

And then the swat on the ass? So out of character for Tony. You decided to see if you could talk to him about it in the morning. You’d have time since apparently you had the day off.

Stepping off the elevator, you were happy to reach your apartment here in the compound. Ready to throw on some fuzzy pajamas, warm up a frozen pizza, and binge-watch the second season of Westworld. Overanalyze your situation with Steve for the millionth time…

When you turned the corner, you were surprised to find Steve right outside your door. He was leaning against the wall, his arms folded across the muscular expanse of his chest. His gaze raked over you as you moved closer, but he wasn’t smiling as he normally did when he saw you.

When had he gotten back?

You smiled. You were happy to see him.

“Steve, hi,” you greeted him. “When did you get in?”

You watched a muscle jump at his jaw. You could feel the tension on him.

“Is everything okay?”

Had someone gotten hurt?

“We need to talk,” he said tersely.

Oh, shit. Was he mad at you?

You swallowed hard in your nervousness and his gaze darted after the movement.

“Would you like to talk about it in here?” you motioned to your apartment.

He nodded curtly, his gaze dropping.

Jesus. What was this about?

You let the two of you into your apartment, placing your purse and portfolio on the table in your dining area before returning to where he stood behind your couch.

“What’s wrong?” you just decided to spit it out.

“So, you and Tony.” It really wasn’t a question. “When did that happen?”

“What?” Did you even understand anything anymore?

“We got back early,” Steve said tersely. “I came down to see if you’d like to catch up… But you were busy talking to Tony so…”

Oh, God. Could today get worse?

You knew how it looked. Worse you were all dressed as you were, making you feel off-balance. And the stony set of Steve’s features let you know you’d better say something fast. After pining after America’s hero for the last four weeks, worried you’d violated him the last time he was in your apartment, you really didn’t want whatever you had to end before it could begin.

And Steve looked so tired. There were shadows beneath his blue eyes. He still looked damn good in tight jeans, a blue button-down.

Still, his entire demeanor was different. Where had your shy Steve gone? The man in front of you was imposing, predatory even. There was an underlying energy you felt coming from him that you hadn’t noticed before.

“Steve, there’s nothing going on with Tony,” you needed him to believe you. “He’s my boss, my friend. That’s it… I have had the strangest day though.”

Blowing out an exhale, you propped a hip up on the back of your couch. Your feet hurt in the high heels you weren’t used to wearing.

Steve’s gaze ran up and down your legs as you situated yourself.

How was he supposed to feel? You normally didn’t dress like this.

“That’s new.” His gaze was roaming all over you now.

You nodded. “Tony got it for me.”

His heated gaze met yours.

You held up your hands defensively. “For today. The meeting. He said that Pepper expected us to put forth a certain image when we did tours. Those kids… were from MIT.”

Steve’s expression hardened. “I’ve seen Tony do plenty of presentations here and he wasn’t all dressed up.”

“I wouldn’t lie about this,” your voice rose when you said that, despite your best efforts to keep calm.

“If I’d come back a week later,” Steve asked, “what would I have found?”

Now, you were getting pissed. You didn’t like the idea he was accusing you of doing anything behind his back with Tony. With anyone. Just who did he think you were?

“Me,” you said heatedly. “Wondering what the hell has gotten into you.”

“Me?” Steve took a step closer, looming over you in a way that forced you to look up at him. “I’ve been out in the world, Sweetheart, busting my ass to keep you safe.”

Okay, he had a point. Calm down. He probably had a shitty mission. He’d been away for four weeks. Tired as he looked, you knew picking a fight was probably a bad approach.

You nodded, dropped your gaze. “You have. I’m sorry.”

Rising from the couch, you moved to stand right in front of him. He’d crossed his arms again and you laid a careful hand on his forearm, feeling the muscle tense beneath your touch.

“I could make us dinner,” you offered. “Or we could just have a couple of beers, talk… I’m just happy to see you.”

Was Steve looking down your blouse?

You waited for his gaze to lift up to meet yours.

“Are you though?” Steve bit out angrily. “Hard for me to believe when I saw Tony’s hand on your ass. What was that?”

Oh, God.

That had you stepping back, moving your hand. Steve was pissed.

Blowing out a frustrated exhale, you shook your head. “I don’t know what that was, Steve. I promise. Please, just talk to me. I haven’t seen you in four weeks and--”

“And you had no idea when I was getting back,” he cut you off. “And I get back to find you all dolled up, hugged up to Tony. His hand on your ass… If you were me, what would you think?”

“I’d understand why Tony had his hand on your ass,” you tried to lighten the moment. “My God,” you said with a smile.

Steve stepped closer. You stepped back.

“You think this is funny?”

Oh. Oh, that was his Captain America voice. Damn. Was it wrong that you were getting worked up here?

You dropped the smile, your heart hammering in your chest.

“Come on, Steve,” you implored him. “I would trust you.”

“That’s the last thing you should do right now.”

What?

Steve backed you against the back of the couch, planting a heavy arm on either side you. He leaned forward, making you shiver when he ran his nose up the length of your neck.

“You smell like Tony,” he whispered.

Your gaze lowered down over his pressed shirt, to the front of his jeans and… Oh.

That Steve was angry, you understood. Jealous? Yes.

But if you didn’t know better…

And how he’d acted last time when he was here. When you’d crawled into his lap? You’d thought you’d moved too fast and him being such a gentleman…

There was no sign of that guy right now.

Oh, you knew you were taking your chances if you did this. Steve was a big guy and he was insanely strong. Depending on how far things went and what he was into, you didn’t stand a chance.

But you wanted to…

“I do, Captain,” you said calmly, giving it a try. When he pulled back from you, you looked up at him through your lashes.

“What was that?”

He was still using the voice. Your thighs clenched together hard.

“I’m so sorry, Captain.” Gently, you planted your hands on his chest and slid your hands up around his neck. “I do smell like Tony… What should I do?”

His hands rose, his fingers wrapping around your wrists firmly. It didn’t hurt and for a moment you were worried he just didn’t want you to touch him..

“And what do you have to say for yourself?” The anger in his blue eyes blended with something darker, something that had your core clenching in anticipation. “You’re supposed to be my girl.”

“I’m so sorry,” you said meekly. “Please let me make it up to you. I’ll do anything.”

He jerked you closer, his mouth claiming yours hungrily. Now that was a kiss and it left you breathless. Steve angled his head, the kiss turned more demanding. You opened to him, giving him everything. You were trembling in his grasp when he pulled back from you.

“Anything, huh?” Steve released your wrists, pointing to the floor in front of him. “Get on your knees.”

It had been a year since you’d had sex, a friends-with-benefits situation and the sex had been pretty good.

Something told you that Steve Rogers was getting ready to ruin you for anyone else but him.

Carefully, you dropped to your knees. Your feet were sore, and you reached back to pull off the heels they were encased in.

“Leave those on,” he ordered, his heated gaze on you.

Damn.

You couldn’t resist sliding your hands up his heavily-muscled thighs. When you reached the top of his jeans, Steve stepped back.

“Did I say you could touch me?”

The huge bulge at the front of his jeans made you think he wanted you to.

Dropping your hands, you gazed up at him. You shook your head.

“What was that?” he demanded.

“No, Captain… I’m sorry.”

“Not very good at following orders, are you?” Faster than you could blink, he hauled you up from the floor and shoved you over the back of the couch. “Probably should have started with this.”

Oh. Holy. Hell.

Wrapping a heavy arm around you, Steve draped himself over the back of you for a moment. Your heart was flying. Steve was grinding what felt like one holy hallelujah of an erection into your ass. You couldn’t help but push your ass back against him. The butt floss Tony had you wearing under the outfit had been officially ruined ten minutes ago and you were to about find out how Captain America doled out corporal punishment.

“You need this to stop, say uncle,” he whispered into your ear before pressing a heated kiss just below it.

Did Captain America just give you a safe word?

You grinned. It was charmingly old-fashioned. Just like him.

“Yes, Captain,” you whispered.

With one hand planted on your back, Steve started hauling up the back of your skirt with his other hand. You shuddered when you felt his rough hand slide up the back of your thigh. Hooking a finger in the back of that stocking, he let the elastic snap back against your skin. Then that hand skimmed up over the bare globes of your ass.

When his finger hooked in the top of the lacy thong, he gently tugged on it, an easy motion that had your clit throbbing from the delicate pressure being applied. His hand left your back after a quiet ripping sound, he pulled the thong off, tossing it onto the couch in your line of sight.

Your breath left you in a huff when you felt his fingers slide into your folds from behind. One finger zeroed in on your clit even as the other hand returned to your back, and he teased you in maddeningly gentle strokes. You would have been embarrassed by just how much wetness he found there but you were past caring about that now.

When the first slap landed, you yelped, scrambling to hold onto the cushions of your couch.

“Count,” he ordered.

So you did, bracing for each blow. In truth, each one stung and you were sure your ass was fire engine right now, but he wasn’t trying to hurt you.

When you’d counted out ten, he stopped, one rough hand smoothing over overly sensitive skin.

“Going to let anyone else touch this ass?” he asked in a voice that contradicted the soft touch.

You were just trying to catch your breath, shaking and balanced precariously over the back of your own couch.

“No,” you got out. “No, Captain.”

“Want to give it another try?”

What?

“On your knees,” he ordered.

Steve just stepped back, didn’t help you up, help you balance. Somehow on those damned high heels he wanted you to keep on you managed to right yourself and none-too-gracefully drop to your knees on the floor in front of him.

Swiping at the few odd tears that had slid down your face, you put on what you hoped was your best contrite look. Glancing up at him, you smiled sweetly.

“May I touch you now, Captain?” you asked humbly.

Steve seemed to be holding up better than you were. Gorgeous bastard.  But there were tell-tale signs. His hands clenching at his sides, the bulge at the front of his jeans that hadn’t gone anywhere. The heat in those baby blue eyes.

He smirked at you. “Oh, I think you can do better than that.”

Of course he wanted you to beg. Did anyone else know what a kinky fucker Captain America really was?

Okay, then.

“Captain, please,” you begged him, you hand coming up to your blouse and easily plucking at the buttons to reveal the lacy bustier that you appreciated right now at this moment.

His gaze darted after the movement of your hands. He swallowed as he watched. You fought not to smile at his hesitation.

“Can I see your cock?” you begged as you pulled the blouse free of your skirt, dropping it to the floor behind you. “Please, Captain. Can I touch it? I’ll be so good for you… I promise.”

It was satisfying watching the slight tremble in his hands when he undid his belt, opened his jeans for you. Edging closer on your knees, you slid your hands up the thick muscle of his thighs and hooked your fingers in those jeans, his boxers, carefully pulling them down for him.

You weren’t really surprised his cock was as gorgeous as the rest of him. But it was huge. A decent blow job here would be something like an Olympic event but you were excited and ready to give it your best shot.

You got your hands on him, all hard and velvety warm. You broke out every trick you knew. You teased the head of you him with your lips and tongue, you teased the length of him with quick then slow strokes. When you weren’t lightly playing with his sac with gentle fingers, you got your mouth on his balls, teasing them as you tried to learn what he liked.

By the time you were sliding most of him in and out of your mouth and fighting your gag reflex, those powerful hands were in your hair and guiding your movements. You would have smiled if you could have. He was a leader on the battlefield, apparently, he was the same in the bedroom and you had no problem with that.

Steve hummed above you. “Your mouth is good, Sweetheart… So fucking good…”

When he urged you to speed up your motions, you did. The tension in his body built, telling you he was close. Doubling your efforts, you were gratified when he moaned above you.

“Be good for me… swallow it all,” his voice wasn’t entirely steady.

When he came somehow you managed to do just that while his fingers clutched in your hair, your braid destroyed by now. When you eased back, you knew you had to be a sight with your hair a mess.

Steve glanced down at himself, and somehow he was still somewhat hard, and you followed the line of gaze, realizing you’d left traces of the red lipstick you’d worn all over him.

He held out a hand to you, you thought to help you up. You took it but found yourself slung over his shoulder. Steve was husting to your bedroom, pausing when he reached your bed.

Oh, you knew why. Your bed was big enough, but it was up on a pretty, scrolly frame. Guess you were about to find out how durable it was…

He didn’t let that stop him, dropping you onto your bed and standing over you as you got your bearings. He was a little rough when he grabbed the hem of your skirt and literally ripped that off you, his heated gaze moving over you in a way that had you trembling in want.

Climbing on the end of the bed after you, Steve grabbed you by your hips and shoved you up the bed. Grabbing your wrists, he pulled them up to the slender metal bars of your headboard.

He pressed his forehead to yours. “Hold on and don’t let go until I say. Can you do that for me?”

You nodded. “I can, Captain.”

Steve claimed your mouth then in a heated kiss and you just knew he could taste himself on you. He was holding himself above you and you couldn’t help it. He was such a good kisser and you were so worked up. You wrapped your legs around his hips, trying to pull him down to you. You only had on the bustier, the stockings and heels at this point. You didn’t care, you needed friction, something…

It was like trying to move a bridge.

Steve eased back carefully. “I’m going to take care of you, Sweetheart.”

Surprisingly, he figured out the back of the bustier pretty quickly and had it whisked off you fast. He got his hands and mouth on your breasts. His hands were gentle, careful with you. His mouth was anything but. Your nipples were aching little diamond-hard points by the time he was done, and your core was aching, craving him.

Steve rose enough to unbutton his shirt and pull it off, dazzling you with a beautiful, muscular upper body that had you drooling. Your fingers tightened on the bars and you wished like hell you hadn’t agreed to keep them there. You wanted to explore that. You were surprised you weren’t drooling when he pulled off everything else, joining you on the bed gloriously naked.

Steve was beautiful. Jesus.

He came back up to tease your breast with his lips, to look you over.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered as his hands skimmed over you, whisper-soft. He chained kisses over your ribs, down over your tummy. Settling himself between your thighs, he draped them over his shoulders and dove into you with his mouth.

Maybe they did head a lot better back in the 40s. Maybe being Captain America just made him good at everything. But Steve went to town and you were a writhing, moaning mess less than three minutes in. He teased your clit with soft lashes of his tongue before sliding down to trace your opening and back up again. One iron-hard forearm kept your hips in place for him until you couldn’t breathe, until you had a death-grip on those damn bars.

Steve had you dancing on his tongue, coming so hard you saw star as your cries filled the room.

“Love the sounds you’re making,” he told you, glancing up at you with a wicked smirk as he slid a finger into your channel. “Could listen to that all day.”

You couldn’t catch your breath to respond. His mouth worked your clit as his finger gently moved in you. When he added a second, your body was clenching around him greedily. The third finger was a stretch, his fingers weren’t small. And then he curled them just so…

That release hit you so hard everything faded for you. You were just coming around to see him move up your body, taking himself in hand and positioning himself where you desperately needed him.

“You still being good for me?” How the hell was he still pulling off his captain’s voice when you couldn’t manage speech? “You still hanging on?”

Were you? Dazed, you glanced up to see that you were.

“I am, Captain,” you whispered, gasping.

When he began pushing into you, it was like your entire body sang in welcome. He stretched you, carefully pushing in, and the burn wasn’t entirely unwelcome.

Concern bled into his expression and he dropped kisses over your breasts, your neck, and shoulders.

“You okay?” he whispered, even as he continued moving.

You nodded, feeling your body stretch to accommodate him.

“Let go,” he whispered into your ear, “and hang onto me.”

Oh, you could do that. You wound yourself around him, arms and legs and he finally reached the end of you. You’d never felt anything like him before, the feeling of fullness just shy of painful.

But he slid easily with how worked up you were, keeping his strokes light and easy at first. Giving you some of his weight, he made you feel it, trapping you between him and your own bed as he speared into you hot and hard.

Your hands were wild in his hair, over his back, as his thrusts gained in strength and speed and your bed began to squeak in protest. Sliding a hand under you, Steve pushed up the center of your back, pushing your breasts up to tease with his lips while he started fucking you hard. The sound of squeaking, metal grinding grew louder as he pushed himself into you, feasting on your breasts while he did.

“Needed this,” he moaned against your skin, “wanted you so… fucking much…”

You were pretty much beyond speech at this point. Your core tightened as another wave of pleasure swelled within you. Your shoes had fallen off and your heels dug into that perfect ass, your nails were dug into the muscled wall of his back. The bed continued to squeak, grind, and groan.

“I’m…”

“You going to come for me?” Steve asked as he kissed up your neck to your jaw.

“Can I, Captain?” you begged, sounding wrecked even to yourself. “Please?”

“Come for me,” he whispered.

And that time, it was Steve’s voice. And you let go, your body clamping around him hard as your release grabbed you and shook you until the world spun away. You heard Steve’s strangled cry as he reached his end, his body tightening around you as he pulled free from you, his release sending warm ropes across your thighs.

A very loud groan and a scream ripped from you as the bed collapsed beneath you and sent the two of you crashing to the floor. Steve wrapped himself around you somehow during this, keeping you from tumbling away to get hurt.

Carefully Steve eased you both up, looking you over. You were still in a daze, but you couldn’t help but laugh. Your prissy bedframe was a mangled mess on the floor beneath your mattress and after a minute, you saw Steve’s shoulders start to shake too.

“We broke my bed,” you managed as you laughed, using the sheet to clean your thighs off.

As your laughter started to fade, Steve ran a hand up your shoulder to the back of your neck, pulling your closer. His kiss was gentle, loving. He looked so relaxed, less tired somehow.

“Was that okay?” he asked, pulling you into his arms. “I know we didn’t talk about that or… even…”

Wrapping your arms around him, you snuggled close. “It was more than okay,” you told him. “I can be into that… if you want me to.”

Steve leaned down to get on eye level with you. “I do enjoy that, Sweetheart. But I’ll want to make love to you too pretty often... As soon as I can actually.”

He drugged you with more kisses, his cock already twitching in interest. Did the man even have a refractory period?

Looking around, you scrubbed a hand through your tousled hair. “Well, it won’t be here until I can get a new bed.”

Steve grinned. “My bed’s nice and big, sturdy. You can just stay with me for a while.”

Your head was spinning the way the day was moving. But considering the way it was moving, you were fine with that.

You startled when you heard Friday announce your name from out of the blue. You rarely used the AI.

“There’s a delivery at your front door.”

You and Steve stared at each other for a moment before you tried to clumsily climb up from the mattress and mangled metal on the floor. Steve gently eased you back down, grabbing his jeans and pulling them on before heading out to your door.

What else today?

Steve came back carrying a huge back of what appeared to be takeout food, and a bouquet of balloons tied around the neck of a champagne bottle and an envelope attached.

Steve handed you the bottle with the balloons and envelope. Going for the envelope first, you tried not to laugh as you recognized Tony Stark’s handwriting on the note inside. Then you read it out loud, starting with your name.

 Thank you for helping our Cap get his groove back. The champagne is to celebrate the end of his dry spell, maybe yours too. And I hope you like Thai. You’ll need to keep up your strength. He’s enhanced you know.

Try not to break anything else. I’ve put in an order for a new bed, one I don’t think the old man can break so easily. Have fun kids.

Love,

Tony

 A few things clicked into place for you about the day and you chuckled. 

Steve wasn’t as amused.

“Hey, at least we know why he was acting so weird now,” you pointed out.

“I want to know how he knows about the bed.” Steve scrubbed a hand down over his face.

“Can you go threaten him later?” you asked sweetly. “I’m really hungry.”

At that, his expression eased.

“Tomorrow,” he said.

That reminded you. “He gave me tomorrow off you know. Which is good. Not sure how well I’m going to be able to walk.”

That immediately had him setting the bag of Thai down and helping you up so you could pull on a bathrobe, his expression a study in concern.

“How about we get dressed, head to your place, have dinner,” you said, “a nap and then maybe do that making love thing you were talking about.”

Steve smiled. “I like that plan.”

And it went just as you said.

Only Steve was right. His bed was nice, big, and very sturdy.

 3. Closing Analysis

Tony sat back with his scotch, happy as fuck with how his plan turned out, and hoping that Pepper would answer the phone.

When she finally answered, his day got even better.

“Hey, Pep,” he greeted. “How are you doing?”

Pepper sounded tired. She told him about the meetings, the progress with a charity he’d let her invest in. He let her get everything out before she finally stopped, as she always did.

“How are you?” she asked.

“I’m good.” He really was. “Just wondering if there’s a chance I could lure you away to Paris for the weekend.”

“Paris?” Then the pause. “What’s blown up, Tony?”

“Nothing, actually,” Tony told. “Just feel like celebrating something. Want to celebrate with me?”

A really big pause.

“No business?”

“No business,” he assured her. “Just me, you, French cuisine, some wine… I’ll even give you a back rub.”

A deep sigh.

He couldn’t help it. His heart flew. Hoping she’d say yes. Needing her to say yes.

“When?”

“How about in the next hour?” Tony asked gently.

“Okay.”

“I’ll be by to pick you up,” he said smiling and then hung up before she could change her mind.

Tony was already packed. He had no intention of being here tomorrow when Captain Caveman came around to bitch at him about 1) the jet upgrade and 2) the success of his plan.

Captain America was not the only man with a plan.

And Tony had just successfully dismantled Steve Rogers.

Whatever...

Or

Whomever...

Damian pulled off the black framed glasses, and hastily folded them over his waistband, shoving them away along with his darker thoughts. How was he expected to proceed in such a case? What exactly was the due process here? Did the Titans handbook have a chapter about this, or even so much as a footnote? Damian began to formulate what he believed was a rudimentary follow-up. "How did this...even happen?"

It sounded safe, rational.

Surely, it was a reasonable thing to consider given the current situation.

Violet eyes glanced over the wreckage. There was a sprinkling of sawdust on the mattress laying jilted off to the side, the box spring was reduced to a heap of wooden boards, and the thick carved posts were snapped, propped uselessly against the corner of the room. Her cavernous eyes bored into the center of his bare chest, before at last, settling on his face. "Damian, I don't want to talk about it. I just... I need your help, okay?" Her voice wavered for a note. "So, if you can't give me that -"

"No - no. Of course, I want to help," Damian said immediately, standing taller. "I just...want to know what I'm dealing with here, so I can help you best." He motioned with his hand, hoping she would elaborate, or give any clue as to what had happened. And when she didn't speak, he spun up plausible theories.

But, nothing.

Raven didn't bite.

"Was it...your powers? Was it a lack of structural support? Maybe it was foul play - some prank of Garfield's gone wrong? Maybe the wood is old?"

Damian threw out suggestion after suggestion - and nothing. Any indication, even a simple nod, would have sufficed, anything would have been better than him filling in the blanks on his own.

"Or was it...?"

Anything to stop him from wondering about was just below the surface, the subtext: could it have been sexual?

Was it sexual?

He wanted to know. He needed to know. He had to know. She was his best friend. For all that was good in the world - he deserved an answer.

"Was it what?"

"Overuse?" Damian tried. "Or I don't know...misuse?"

"What exactly are you asking?" The mage returned a little less flatly, a little more angrily. "I'm the one with the broken bed and nowhere to sleep tonight. I knew you would be up... and so I came to you. I just needed some help - your help." Raven was resolute as she had been earlier, when she was standing at his door. But now, she seemed determined to answer as little as possible, to even redirect his inquiries back towards him.

What was she hiding from him?

Why was she hiding from him?

Damian glowered down at her. "I am trying to help -"

"So, help." Raven stood on her toes to glare back at him unblinkingly for what felt like hours. And anyone other than Damian would have backed down by now. "But, if you're going to make assumptions or continue to interrogate me, I'll just sleep on the couch."

This was going nowhere.

He sighed, a long drawn out exhale, he needed to breathe, to stay calm. But he could feel himself getting more and frustrated for each second this tennis match persisted. "Why don't you tell me what happened - from your perspective," Damian added quickly.

Raven was right to refer to it as an interrogation, a part of Damian had to give that to her.

This did feel rather like a deposition.

"It was late, I finished meditating, I thought I would try to get some sleep. I was laying in bed, and it broke." She rubbed her arm, trying to look impassive or unaffected and Damian didn't know what, only he couldn't believe this. It was the exact same story - if anything this was less than she had told him before.

His heartbeat pounded deafeningly in his eardrums, and his blood started to sear dangerously under his skin and Damian wanted to demand a sufficient answer from her.

But that wasn't the solution.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing in more slowly. What bothered him the most wasn't the denial, it was Raven acting as though she couldn't trust him.

And if she couldn't trust him, he had far bigger problems.

"Just so I can understand you - so I'm not confused, tell me, how did it break?"

"You saw for yourself - it collapsed."

He shook his head, he just needed her to give him something. Maybe he was just desperate for an opening for the questions he was barely biting back on his tongue.

How was she laying? Was she on her back? Was she alone?

Was she clothed?

"Why?" He burst out. "Why did it break? There's always an explanation. Things don't just collapse."

"Well, my bed did."

Damian had crossed over the bridge of irritation into incredulousness. He was dumbfounded. "I didn't think you even needed one - a bed." He scoffed. "I was under the impression that you...floated above it."

"Where on Earth did you hear that?" Raven's purple eyes narrowed. "I don't float - I'm not a pixie." Damian's lips twitched. So said the petite girl from another land, named after a bird, who spent her days flying around in a leotard.

"Fine, you hover." Damian eyed her, practically insisting. "You definitely hover."

She could project manifestations of wings whenever she appeared. That and the obvious, she glowed.

So if it looked like a duck...

"Yes. I've been known to hover - on occasion - it's not a regular thing." A faint flush began to color her face cerise, much to Damian's satisfaction. "Is my interrogation over, then?" He noticed her expression was slightly less annoyed than before, but more anxious.

Maybe he had been going about this all wrong. What if it was about something else entirely?

He glanced at the little worry crease that indented itself above her left eyebrow. In the idle daydream, he fantasized about touching it, even kissing the muscle until it relaxed. Of course he cared, she didn't even know how much. Damian’s features softened slightly. "Raven, I'm...concerned about you. It's not everyday your best friend shows you her mysteriously broken bed. So, is everything okay? Are you stressed?"

"No, Damian." But Raven had deflated, looking somewhat defeated. "This, it's not at all what you think..."

"Alright, I won't press this anymore." He reached down and touched her shoulder. "Get your pillow and some blankets," Damian ordered. "You're not staying on the couch." The hero stood by Raven's door while she dissected the contents of the rubble. They waited wordlessly for the tell-tale mechanical whirl of the door sealing itself. He shuffled ahead of her to his room, expecting her to follow. "You'll take my bed."

"Oh..." Raven stopped short, staring oddly at the floor. "I didn't ask you for help to put you out."

"You're not putting me out. You couldn't possibly put me out." The corner of his mouth tugged upward for a second as he searched her pale face. "We're best friends, aren't we?" She nearly flinched. "Did I say something wrong?" Damian frowned, trying to level with her.

"Damian, it was my powers, though I'm sure you already knew." Raven bent her head, holding it against the pillow. Slowly, she dragged it down her face. "Do you really want to know what I was doing?" She sounded muffled, but her words were clearer than they had been all night.

"What?" Damian's heart lurched in his chest. Even though he still wasn't sure what to think. But if Raven wanted to tell him -

"Yes."

"In my bed - tonight, I was..." Her voice sounded frailer, even a little afraid. "My bed is broken because... I was alone and thinking of you..."

What?

"You were alone," Damian paused, rather nonplussed. "And thinking of me?"

That was it?

"It was late." Raven spoke slower, this time.

"Yes."

"I was up..."

"Naturally."

"Reading - one of my novels..." Her purple eyebrows arched. "Alone."

"So, you've said."

"...and thinking of you."

"Right..."

"I was thinking of you," Raven repeated. "Alone."

"Oh..." Damian started. He licked his lips thoughtfully. "Oh."

"Oh? That's it, that's all you have to say?" When Raven marched down the hall, her short legs were faster than usual. The other Titan couldn't catch up to her, despite his longer legs, she seemed determined enough to have lapped him.

Or slapped him by the murderous look in her eye.

"Raven, slow down..." Damian stretched out a hand, trying to keep up with her. Every time he thought he was getting closer, she slid further out of reach. He was still processing, he hadn't expected this, if she could give him just one minute -

"You didn't consider for one minute that maybe..." She stopped, strands of plum whipping her cheek, when she turned to him. "No, of course not. How could you? You don't see me that way," Raven swallowed hard. "Or anything."

"Raven. Don't, I -"

"I shouldn't have bothered you with this, you were busy then and clearly you're still elsewhere." Raven didn't meet his eye. "Please, forget I mentioned this - any of this. I'll wake Starfire and you can get back to deliberating, planning or coordinating... You can chalk this up to some insufferable late night psycho babble from a half-demon whose powers must have gone haywire for the second time tonight." She turned away. "Good night."

"But." His fingers brushed her shoulder. "You broke your bed because of me."

"Yes, we've established that. It doesn't mean anything." Raven shrugged him away. "My powers are out of control right now - that's all it really means."

"No." He caught her fingertips and clasped her hand, spinning her to face him. "I'm not going to - I can't let this go." He pulled her in his arms, her stiff, small form. "I can't let you go." Because even still, she was warm and soft and she was Raven. She smelled of honey and sage and soy candles left burning overnight - home. 

This was scent he inhaled whenever his mind registered that he was home. It was like he was home at last, and he wanted to hold her close to him for hours. He stared down at her, marveling at the words as they revealed themselves in a new light that was vibrant, bright and multi-hued. "You broke your bed because of me."

"Let go of me." Raven's cheeks were aflame. Her eyes were wide, her lips were wavering.

"No."

No more rash assumptions tonight, or not acting rashly enough.

All he needed to be certain of was this. And he was not going to let Raven go again.

"I...need to masturbate - meditate." Raven let out a frustrated sob, struggling in his arms. "I need to meditate and -" Damian's fingers swept up the nape of her neck and he pressed the seam of his lips onto her own. The pillows and blankets slid out of her hand, her body had gone pliant. A sweet mewl rose up from her throat and neither of them gave any more thought to the finicky state of her powers, this was more important.

This needed to be communicated, he needed her to understand that he did understand.

"You broke your bed because of me..." He mumbled against her lips, tasting hints of jasmine tea. "You were thinking of me when your bed broke." Damian repeated her words back to her with an understanding that was always there. Just below the surface, it was waiting for him, calling out for Raven. He brushed her hair back from her cheeks. Tucking it behind her ears. "This beautiful mind - here." His thumbs rising to massage that worry muscle above her eyebrow. "I want it on me." And he smoothed his lips over it, kissing it repeatedly. "I want to fill it with thoughts of me. Only me."

"Wait - wait." Raven trembled, her eyes were wild. "What does this mean?"

"What do you think it means?"

He could feel her forehead moving, veins ticking, the brain below it working itself up into a frenzy. She couldn't quite process what was happening. The possibility that he might feel just as strongly, just as intensely. Perhaps even to a greater degree than she.

"Damian... Aren't we - friends?"

"Aren't we past that?" Damian cupped her chin and captured her mouth again. Pressing back against her lips tighter and harder, clutching her - tighter, harder. Running his hands up and down her back, feeling barely any layers to separate what was happening between them. But really, how could something as insignificant as layers keep them apart? Even without his chest bare and Raven's strappy pajama top so tiny there was no way she was wearing a bra.

How could anything now?

Damian growled low in his throat. "Would you come to someone in the middle of the night about your broken bed if they were merely a confidant?" Raven whimpered, as he too had pitched her own words and actions against her, all the while rounding her ear with his tongue.

"But, I thought -" She murmured incoherently into his neck "- and my powers."

"Yes, what about them? How could they resist reaching out, if you hadn't considered more? If you thought of me as only a friend?" Raven gasped, and he stole it straight from her - along with every breath from all the gasps from her lungs. "It's just us, we can both admit the truth."

"And what is the truth?" Raven leaned into him, turning doe-eyed blue-violet upon him. He feathered his thumb over those impossibly soft lips, like he couldn't help himself, because if talking to her meant he couldn't kiss that mouth, he had to touch it in some form or fashion.

"You were reading that romance novel you dogeared to death, I saw it there, covered in wood chips and sawdust." The man, half-naked, broad shouldered, and dark-skinned was unlacing the red corset of a willowy brunette with an arched back. The image was right there on the cover, it was unmistakable. And everything clicked right into place, as if he'd always known. Raven had pictured them in their place and used those thoughts as fodder or fuel. "You were imagining us."

"So tell me." He felt shivers race up his spine and it wasn't from those machinations alone, it was Raven's lips, stroking along his neck. When she spoke her voice was barely a whisper and raspier than he had ever heard it. "What did I imagine?"

"We were in your room, caught up in our connection -" The pale fingers threaded through his hair, in time with his musings. "Caught up in each other in ways that would make the Goddesses blush, if not undoubtedly cause a box-spring shatter beneath us, and then..."

Her hands stilled and tugged the dark strands. "Then?"

"Then it did, your bed broke."

A small smile curved onto her face, but it didn't match the mischievous stare contained in her eyes. Not exactly. "And now we're here?"