Work Text:
After Howard is sent back to headquarters, Peggy keeps him up-to-date on Steve's status, not that there's much to report. Still, he gets a message from her every few days with the words 'nothing yet.'
Every time he reads those words, his stomach clenches and he feels slightly ill because each 'nothing yet' brings him closer to the realization that Steve is probably dead. The very idea brings a grief so strong, he can barely move.
Then it happens.
At first, Howard thinks he's hallucinating or that maybe Peggy is playing a joke. Only, he knows she would never joke about that. He's elbow deep in an experiment, but when the note comes in, he leaves right in the middle of it. He goes straight to his room and slumps down in a chair.
He stares at the two words on the piece of paper and feels such *triumph.*
Steve's alive, it says.
Howard's breath catches in his throat and he crumples the paper in his fist. He opens his mouth and tests out the words, feeling the way they move his tongue, the way they shape his lips. "Steve's alive."
He lets out a surprised laugh that ends in a gasp.
Steve's alive.
He buries his face in his hands and shakes so hard that he's sure he's going to break apart.
*****
It's late, so late that it's early morning and any moment one of the other scientists is going to come in and ask if he's been in here all night.
He has, of course he has. The lab is safe; it's always been safe. Here, they only care about intellect and skill. And he has both in abundance.
So when the door opens, he doesn't start, he's too busy concentrating on the lab reports spread out on the table in front of him. It's not until he hears the sound of someone walking towards him, in boots, that he takes notice. Or should he say, his body takes notice. The back of his neck prickles and his skin suddenly seems to be too small for his body. Both his heart rate and his breathing speed up. For the first time in his life, he hopes he's wrong. He hopes it's Colonel Phillips coming to ask him about his current findings.
"Hello, Mr. Stark," Steve says, his voice soft and deep.
Howard closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He's not going to turn around; he's not going to look. "Steve, I heard you were back. What can I do for you?"
Steve walks over to him and leans a hip against the table; Howard can feel the heat of his body. "I couldn't sleep and I thought I might find you here. I've been meaning to visit you all day, but I haven't had a moment to myself since I got back."
He glares at the reports and flips a few pages, not that he's reading a damn thing. "You're a hero now, Steve. Heroes are never alone."
"I only did what was right. If anyone's the hero here, it's those men I brought back. And you, Mr. Stark."
"Me?" He's so startled that he glances up into Steve's blue eyes. "What did I do?"
"You flew that plane into enemy territory even though you're not a soldier and you knew you could die. If it wasn't for you, I never would have made it there to save them."
Howard flushes with pleasure and he looks back down at the table. "You would have found a way. Hell, you probably would have walked the whole way there."
"You don't give yourself enough credit. You're a hero and I told that to everyone who would listen." Steve presses warm fingers to Howard's cheek, eliciting a startled gasp, and gently turns his face so that their eyes meet. "It's polite to look at the person you're talking to, Howard."
His mouth goes dry and shame makes him stutter. "S-Sorry."
Steve smiles and slides his fingers along Howard's jaw. "You have very nice bone structure."
"W-What?" He can't think: Steve's touch makes his whole body hot and tight and he's sure at any moment he's going to burst.
"I'm going to draw you." Steve cups his chin and moves his head this way and that, inspecting him. And God, Howard's a mess. "That's all right, isn't it?"
"Y-Yes," he says quickly, because what else can he say? Every molecule of him is saying yes and more and… "Please."
"Please, what?" Steve's eyes are dark and he steps closer to Howard, so that their bodies brush against each other.
"I…" He can tell that Steve is going to kiss him and when that happens, he'll be lost. And he can't, he just can't. "Don't. I… I've been up all night and I really need to go to bed." He can see the disappointment in Steve's eyes and he almost apologizes again.
Steve steps away and lets his hand drop to his side. "Right. Well, I'll let you get some sleep then. But I'll be at your room tomorrow at seven sharp."
"Seven." He nods, and before he loses his nerve, he hurries out of the lab to his room where he has a cold shower.
*****
Howard considers hiding in his lab, but that thought is quickly tossed aside: Steve would only come get him. He also considers getting roaring drunk, but that might make it easier for Steve to… Well, to do whatever Steve wants to do, he supposes.
In the end, he waits obediently in his room.
The knock on the door makes him jump to his feet and smooth the front of his shirt and run his hands through his hair. Before he can tell Steve to enter, the door opens and Steve walks in, sketchbook and pencils in hand, a broad smile on his face.
Howard's pulse flutters wildly and he swallows hard. "Hi."
"Hi." Steve's ears turn red and he clears his throat. "So, um, it's been awhile since I've had someone pose for me, so I might be a little rusty. Normally I just sketch whatever I see. Take off your jacket and your tie and sit down." He gestures to a chair.
Howard nods and stares at the floor as he… he undresses. God, if his mother knew he was doing this, she'd be appalled. Undressing for a Dom that wasn't his, hell, being alone with a Dom that wasn't his, as if he were a whore to be bought and paid for. It would ruin him, if Elite Society didn't already think he was ruined.
"Hey," Steve says, touching Howard's shoulder, making him jump. "Are you all right?"
"Y-Yes, I'm fine." He's burning for Steve, aching for him. He just wants Steve to shove him back on the bed and take him. Claim him.
"You're trembling." Steve cups his chin and forces his gaze up. "And you're not looking at me, Howard. What did I say about that?"
"You said it was impolite. I'm sorry." He feels so ashamed that he forgot.
"You're forgiven." Steve slides his hand down Howard's throat and begins to loosen his tie "Let me help you."
Howard's face heats as Steve undresses him. No, no, Steve is just taking off his tie and jacket, that's all. Steve's just undoing the top two buttons of his shirt. There's nothing improper about that.
Steve smiles again and gently maneuvers him into the chair. "Yeah, just like that. I like you just like that. Don't move." Steve grabs his sketchbook and soon the room is filled with the sound of pencil meeting paper.
It's uncomfortable the way Steve scrutinizes him and he very much wants to look away, to hide behind a piece of machinery or behind a glass of scotch. But he feels pinned down by Steve's gaze. He feels as if he's being peeled open, layer by layer.
"No, don't look down. Eyes on me, Howard. Always keep your eyes on me." Steve's gaze turns stern and Howard mumbles a quiet apology. "Are you comfortable?"
"Yes," he says because if he says no, Steve might stop.
"Lick your lips." When he does, Steve smiles. "Good, that's real good, Howard. You're doing a great job.
Heat uncurls in his belly and he fights to keep from squirming with pleasure. He might be able to stave off the feeling, but Steve keeps at it. Steve keeps giving these little orders followed by compliments. And the warmth and pleasure lap over him until he feels dazed and heavy.
Everything melts away and there's only Steve's voice.
"Howard," Steve says gently, shaking his shoulder. "Howard!"
He blinks rapidly, as if he's just woken up, his eyes coming into focus. His body feels stiff, as if he's been sitting too long—maybe he has. He tries to speak, but his tongue feels heavy and unused to moving.
"It's time to stop for the night. You look exhausted, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have kept you sitting for so long."
He swallows and shakes his head. "N-No, no, it's all right. I—"
Steve presses a hand to Howard's mouth. "No talking. Just sit here and get your bearings. That's it, breathe deeply."
He does, in through his nose and out his mouth, willing his brain to start up again.
"We'll do this again tomorrow." Steve closes his sketchbook and smiles. "You were really great, Howard. Thank you."
He nods and gives Steve a small smile of his own.
"Get some rest, you look like you need it." Steve gently squeezes his upper arm. "See you tomorrow."
When Howard is finally pulled together enough to check the time, he sees that it's half-past nine. He can't help but feel slightly alarmed; he doesn't remember falling asleep.