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Tony felt too hot, his skin was flushed and sweat started to build on his brows, yet he knew he would only be getting away from the human furnace attached to his backside whenever his husband decided to stop his blissful post-coital snuggling to leave for the bathroom, and not a second earlier. He was slightly uncomfortable, yes, but contrary to what he had thought on their wedding night, after some months Tony finally had somewhat gotten used to the sticky feeling of supersoldier sperm dripping out of him. And while he really didn’t like the feeling, at least his husband made sure to prepare him properly beforehand so as to not hurt him, most of the time. Sure, sometimes Tony got slapped around a little, if he was mouthing off at the wrong time. And sometimes he got the occasional spanking, if he misbehaved particularly badly, but at least sex had never been used as a punishment.
Tony didn’t love or even really like his husband, not at all, but the supersoldier didn’t seem to mind all that much, as long as the younger man was presentable and available to him at all times, spoke respectfully and did nothing to damage the public image of the Supreme Commander.
Theirs wasn’t a union of love and wouldn’t become one any time soon. Tony still wasn’t sure whether the Supreme Commander had wanted him to make a public example out of the Stark heir, whether he just couldn’t keep his hands off of him any longer or whether it was just to teach his dad a lesson - maybe it was all three of them. In the end his husband’s reasoning for marrying him didn’t really matter, at least not to Tony, because it wouldn’t change his situation.
“What’s going on in that cute little head of yours, doll?” The whispered question made him stiffen involuntarily.
Shit.
Tony tried to avoid drawing his husband’s attention any more than necessary at all costs. He had a temper sometimes and ambigue questions like this ended in a disastrous way for Tony more often than they did not.
“S-sorry, Sir.”, Tony apologized instantly, hoping the other would just let it drop. Hoping it was just one of those moments where he liked to unsettle Tony a little and expected sweet submission to be satisfied.
A dangerous chuckle right in his ears was the answer. He wouldn’t be getting away that easy, would he?
“I didn’t tell you to apologize, now did I? Silly boy, I asked you a question. You know I expect an answer.”
From his husband’s tone of voice, Tony knew he was still amused instead of annoyed, so at least there was that - but Tony also knew how quick Rogers’ temper could change. So he really needed to tread carefully.
“Y-yes, Sir-”
“And quit it with the stuttering, Anthony. It might have been cute at first, but I’m growing really tired of it.”
Tony swallowed, that was definitely a warning. He couldn’t help that the supersoldier inspired fear in him every time his attention was on him. But Tony would try, because he made a habit of trying not to annoy the blond man.
“I was just thinking about why you chose to marry me…”, Tony reluctantly, silently admitted then. Lying when he was expected to answer truthfully was no option, because the soldier’s superhearing could be focused on Tony’s heartbeat at any time and that would give away any attempt at lying right away. He had tried that a couple of times before he had reluctantly decided to not do it for truth-questions anymore.
The thing was, there were different types of questions that Rogers asked. There were questions where the other expected the truth, no matter how hard it was. Questions like Did you cry when Bucky over here killed your Mommy? or What was it your father wanted to tell you on the phone? or When was the first time you touched yourself?
And then there were the questions, where he was expected to tell pretty little lies as an answer. Questions like, Do you like the clothes I bought you? or How was your day, doll? or How bad do you want my cock right now?
Most of the time, those two types of questions were easy to differentiate. At first, Tony had struggled to keep up with the unspoken rules of when he was expected to lie and when he was expected to tell the truth. He had gotten shouted at or slapped a little plenty of times, until he had understood the unspoken rules of conversing with his husbands. Now, most of the time, he intuitively got it right and knew what was expected of him. But sometimes it was still hard to toe this fine line.
Rogers just chuckled, apparently amused enough by his answer to not become annoyed, yet not deeming it worthy of a real answer either.
“Silly boy.”, he laughed and brought his hands down between their entangled bodies to squeeze at Tony’s butt.
“You’re lucky you’re so cute.”
That was a definite dismissal and Tony was glad he had not gotten a more stern one. The other man’s triggers were plenty and often unpredictable.
But apparently that was that and no more words were spoken about it. Tony tried his best to quiet his mind and to just close his eyes and think of nothing, because he didn’t wanna appear distracted or whatever else it was that gave him away to his husband.
After some more minutes of being groped by his husband, the blond soldier slowly rolled to the side, letting go of Tony’s body and started to stand up. Tony didn’t dare move and just stayed in place, not wanting to pull any more attention to himself than necessary.
He kept his eyes closed when he heard the silent footsteps of his husband rummaging around in the master suite, before they walked off to the en-suite bathroom.
Only when he heard the tell-tale sound of the shower being turned on, Tony finally dared to breathe out heavily through the mouth, finally relaxing his body and enjoying not being burned alive by the body plastered to his backside anymore.
He enjoyed some more minutes in peaceful freedom. Most of the time, his husband liked them to take their breakfast together. And while they didn’t talk all that often through it, Tony knew his every step would be watched and scrutinised closely and depending on the other man’s mood, little mistakes like spilling his coffee would result in big consequences like losing the privilege of drinking coffee at all.
So he really enjoyed the few minutes of quiet time he often had between being woken up and sitting at the breakfast table, while his husband was in the bathroom. Constantly being under the close and strict scrutiny of the supersoldier was exhausting.
“Come join me in the shower, Anthony!”
When he heard the tall man’s slightly muffled voice over the sound of water from the other room, he hurried to get up and walk to the bathroom.
Even though the tone of voice suggested otherwise, Tony knew this wasn’t a request. He had learned that the hard way. Still naked from their earlier activities, Tony wasted no time to enter the steam-filled bathroom and quickly step under the waterfall-imitating water stream, awkwardly just standing there until his husband gave further instructions. This wasn’t the first time he had been asked to join him in the shower, but by all means it wasn’t a weekly occurrence either. Normally, the supersoldier liked his alone time as well.
“Attend to me, doll. Wash me, hm?”
Another lesson he had learned right from the beginning. His husband didn’t like to be kept waiting.
So Tony obediently took the bottle of body wash offered to him and squeezed a generous amount on his hands. Gently, he then applied his hands to his husband's strong shoulders and started massaging the shower gel into his skin. The first time he had been ordered to help him wash, he had made several mistakes and paid the price for it. He had unceremoniously squeezed the shower gel just right on the other man’s skin - which he hadn’t appreciated at all. Then he had been far too quick in washing the supersoldier down, not taken his time to knead through the strong muscles, not shown any sign of worshipping the god-like body of the Supreme Commander - which probably was the main point of this display of power. It was never really about getting cleaned, it was always about dominance and submission, about commands and obedience.
The first time he had done it, Rogers had washed out his mouth with the very same shower gel as a reminder to not make the same mistakes again next time. Tony could still remember the horrible taste, choking on it and how he hadn’t been able to get it out of his system even for hours afterwards. And every time after, when he was ordered into the shower with his husband, the biting taste returned to his mouth for a split second, reminding him to not fuck it up again.
This week’s body wash smelled like coconut and vanilla. It was almost laughable that an overly muscly and strong man like Rogers used coconut vanilla shower gel, yet here he was, eyes closed and a hint of a smile on his lips, relaxing into Tony’s careful touches.
As his hands neared his husband's lower regions, Tony became nervous once more. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t thoroughly become acquainted with the other man’s genitals, yet touching him still always made him somewhat nervous. As he switched the shower gel bottle for a pH-balanced intimate soap to pour some in his hands, he seemed to underestimate the nervous shaking of his hands as well as the slipperiness of the bottle. He saw it fall from his grasp like in slow-motion, rotating in the air, until it hit its accidental target, landing with a sharp corner right on his husband's naked toes before clattering down to the shower’s tile floor in a deafening sound.
Before the slight pain could even register with the other man, Tony raised a fearful gaze up to his face, just in time to see his facial expression morph from satisfied to utterly annoyed in a matter of seconds.
“Ow! Shit! What the fuck!”, came the unimpressed curse and Tony hurried to placate the other man with a panicked litany of apologies.
“I-I’m so sorry S-sir, it w-was an accident, I’m sorry, the bottle just s-slipped-”
He was cut off by a hand connecting with his left cheek. Admittedly, it wasn’t the hardest he had ever been hit and taking into account that his husband was a supersoldier with super strength that probably meant he had to be holding back a lot, not deeming the offense grave enough to unleash his raw strength on Tony, but it still stung nonetheless. Immediate tears sprung to his eyes and a painful whimper escaped his throat at the same time as the Supreme Commander growled an “Enough.”.
Tony quickly dropped his eyes to the floor, ashamed of having fucked up again, afraid of his husband’s stormy temper.
“Out. Get dressed. Then find the Soldier to escort you to breakfast.”
Tony had years of experience living with his dad to recognize a dismissal when he heard one and this one was clear as day. He felt his throat close up and his lower lip wobbled dangerously, yet he didn’t dare start visibly crying now. His husband hated it, most of the time. Tony apparently looked ugly when he cried. Tearful eyes were one thing, but a snotty nose and full blown sobbing - his husband really had no appreciation for that.
Tony hated being left hanging in the air, not knowing whether any punishment would come later on or not, not knowing whether he was forgiven or whether the perceived disrespect would warrant any correctional measures in his husband’s eyes. And the prospect of being alone with the Winter Soldier scared him just as much. He might have never said so outright to the Supreme Commander, yet Tony was sure from his reactions alone every time the dark haired assassin appeared seemingly out of nowhere, his husband just had to know how fearful he was of him.
It felt like being left alone in an enclosed space with a hungry tiger, or at least that was what it felt like to Tony. Logically he knew the Soldier was obedient to the Supreme Commander, yet deep down he couldn’t trust that conditioning. What if one day, the Soldier just decided to devour Tony on a whim? Not to mention of course the fact that his husband could always order the Soldier to hurt him as well. Might be just out of boredom, might be out of a perceived slight, might be as punishment because Tony had accidentally dropped the bottle of soap on the supersoldier’s foot in the shower.
Tony wanted nothing more than to turn back and beg his husband for forgiveness, explain that it had just been an accident that he would be more than willing to make up for, if only it meant there would be no punishment or correction later on, yet from painful experience he knew that the safest way to experience those exact things was by disobeying a direct order.
So, ever the good little spouse, Tony hurried out of the shower, grabbed a towel from the rack, dried himself clinically before stepping back into the master bedroom to enter the closet space in order to find something appeasing to wear. He decided on tightly tailored black dress pants, a dark shirt and a soft, grey cashmere sweater on top. He would have felt more comfortable in joggers and a band shirt, but those kinds of clothes were not allowed for Tony, most of the time. It was a miracle, he had been allowed to keep some of them at all. Wearing them while his husband was around would really be a stretch.
When he was finished, he hesitatingly walked to the door that led to the hallway, where he knew the Soldier was waiting. Guarding. He didn’t want to go to him, he really didn’t, but Tony also didn’t want his husband to come out of his shower, still angry, and find him stalling.
“The Supreme Commander wants you to escort me to breakfast.”, Tony mumbled, wishing to become invisible to not be trapped in the Soldier’s piercing, unwavering, scary staring. As expected, there was no verbal response, just a short nod serving as acknowledgement, then the soft creaking of his leather boots as he made to turn and walk to the door, opening it for Tony. The Soldier’s gaze was ever alert, even in the Supreme Commanders own residence, constantly scanning their surroundings for any threats as he walked Tony to the dining room. He could have sworn the silent attack dog’s gaze had lingered for a moment on where Tony’s cheek was still reddened angrily from the earlier slap and categorising whether this was a threat to the safety of his charge, but probably recognizing it as justified punishment from the Supreme Commander and thus dismissing it as non consequential to him. The Winter Soldier might have been tasked with protecting Tony from any outside threats, but his husband was still allowed to do with him however he pleased. Naturally.
He silently followed the Soldier to the dining room, where the rich breakfast table had already been set by some of the servants. At least Tony wasn’t expected to do any traditional household work for his husband. They had people for cooking and cleaning and all the other little things that had to be done. Sometimes Tony hated it, because it left him with nothing to do for however long his husband was gone or decided not to bother with him. Until he had earned himself some books to at least keep his mind busy, Tony had literally sat alone in one of the many picture-perfect rooms in the mansion and just waited for the Commander to acknowledge him for a couple of minutes every day. Luckily those days were over and Tony had proven well-behaved enough to receive little tokes of good will from his husband, like temporary access to the garden, use of the gym and things to read.
Hopefully, those privileges wouldn’t be taken away because of his earlier fumble. Sometimes, his husband’s mood was unpredictable.
One thing he knew, however, was that his husband hated when he appeared to not be taking care of himself, so he helped himself to something to eat.
Tony was halfway through his rather small portion of a croissant - truth be told he had always been a bad eater, even back home, but since his marriage to the Supreme Commander his bad habit of only nibbling on the smallest portions of food had only worsened. He just never seemed to be hungry and even less seemed to be able to digest larger amounts of food.
The chefs always did a really amazing job of preparing whatever food it was the man of the house decided on for that day, Tony just wasn’t able to ingest larger amounts of it. One day, his husband had been so angry about what he had thought at the time was simply an act of defiance by Tony, as if he had decided to voluntarily enter a hunger strike or whatever. So he had been forced to eat a full two portions of richly cooked steak with baked potatoes. No crying and pleading had been able to bring the blond supersoldier to relent, Tony had been forced to finish it all. Only thirty minutes later, he had thrown it all up again. His stomach had not been able to handle the pure amount of food and had started cramping and revolting, leaving Tony in something between fear and self-pity. Of course his husband had smelled the vomit on him later that evening when he had returned to their quarters - even though Tony had tried to take several showers and brushed his teeth five times in a row. At first he had been angry, thinking Tony had tried to defy him once again by purposefully throwing up, but apparently Tony had looked pitiful or miserable enough that he had finally believed him. Whatever it was that had finally convinced his husband that he had not done it intentionally, the evening had ended with the Supreme Commander rubbing soft circles into Tony’s sensitive stomach until the younger man had finally fallen asleep. That had actually been one of the rare moments of tenderness with his otherwise so demanding husband.
So Tony was currently halfway through his rather small portion of a croissant, when he noticed a small shift in the Winter Soldier’s stance.
In the last months he had learned to read the Soldier’s body language better and better - people didn’t call Tony a genius for nothing, he was observant if nothing else - so the slight straightening of the grim man’s spine and the barely noticeable stiffening of his shoulders alerted Tony to the impending arrival of his husband, giving him valuable seconds to adjust his posture himself before the doors were opened with a forceful clunk and the Supreme Commander strutted in as if he owned the place (which he did), nodding briefly in the Soldier’s direction, before mustering his husband (whom he also owned) from head to toe before finally taking his place at the head of the table.
Apparently Tony’s choice of clothes had been deemed acceptable, because at least there was no snide comment about it.
After having sat down in his place, the servants hurried to serve their Commander his breakfast of choice. Today smelled like scrambled eggs - a enormous portion of it - with freshly toasted bread and avocado.
Tony kept his head down, focusing on his own meal, trying not to draw any attention on himself while his husband drank his first coffee of the day.
For long minutes, the only sound that could be heard was that of cutlery scraping over the plates, until the Supreme Commander finally decided to break the silence.
“Your father has been asking about you. I’m thinking of inviting him for dinner some time next month. Any thoughts?”
This came out of nowhere and Tony wasn’t sure what the other wanted to hear. The question at the end, however, made clear that an answer was expected, though. Was this a trick question? Not wanting to see his father could get him chewed out for not respecting his parent enough, but seeming too eager could result in a lecture on how Tony should finally part with his old life and fully focus on his new role of being the Commander's husband.
And there was still the matter of accidentally dropping the bottle of soap on the other man’s feet earlier, for which he also hadn’t gotten punished yet, so Tony was a little nervous to give the wrong answer.
“Wh-whatever you deem best…”
He settled on a diplomatic answer, hoping the other man wasn’t wanting real input on this.
A heavy sigh was the response and it made Tony’s hackles rise in fearful anticipation. The Supreme Commander forcefully put his knife and fork down on the table and looked at Tony with disappointment in his eyes.
“Anthony. I really thought I made myself clear in bed this morning that I have no more appreciation for your stuttering. But if it isn’t enough for you, if I just tell you nicely like that, I can arrange for a different kind of setting to make that particular lesson stick.”
Oh shit, Tony had totally forgotten and he knew from experience how annoyed his husband could get when he had to repeat himself.
“What? No, Sir, it’s- I promise, I won’t do it anymore! Please?”
Carefully, he made an effort to not stumble over his words. Trying to sound each word out in his head before speaking, making an effort to make his voice sound strong and clear.
“You say that now, but in the shower earlier, you fell back into the same old patterns as well. I really tire of your little speech impediment. Your father had me under the impression, there was nothing wrong with you, and now I learn you can’t fucking talk right.”
Internally, Tony bristled. He could talk just fine. It wasn’t his fault the other man instilled the fucking fear of god in him and Tony had to turn over every word he said several times for worry of saying something wrong. And how offensive and typical of Hydra to see people with a stutter like someone worth less, like something that had to be fixed.
“It’s really not a speech impediment. But even if it was-”
“Well, then call it deliberate disobedience, is that a more fitting name for it?”
Tony blanched. All thought of anger disappearing at once, because if there was one thing he really didn’t want his husband to think, it was that he was trying to be disobedient.
“No, Sir. That’s really not it, I swear!”, he hurried to answer, to get the words out before that thought could manifest in the other’s brain. He really needed the blond man to believe him. His life was miserable enough as it was, he really didn’t need the other thinking he was being disobedient on purpose and warranted some correctional measures.
Through it all, he could feel the Soldier’s dark gaze on him, which was not aiding with his growing panic at all. He needed his husband to understand that he wasn’t doing it on purpose! He started babbling - another tick of his when he was in a panic - and tried to explain himself, to make the other understand:
“I’m just sometimes so nervous, I stumble over my words, but I’m really trying and I promise I will try even harder in the future. I apologize for not making it a priority, please? I’m sorry I didn’t realize how important it was for you, but now that I know-”
The simple hand signal of Rogers raising his index finger silenced Tony immediately. Tony held his breath while his husband bore his eyes through his head, mustering him intensely for long seconds.
“You’re lucky I have a full schedule next week, so I’ll give you one last chance to prove to me you’re serious about this. But I warn you, Anthony. You fuck this up, you will regret lying to me. I won’t be manipulated.”
Tony audibly exhaled. “Yes, thank you, Sir, of course! Promise you won’t regret it!”
He got no further response, only his husband’s gaze that continued to bore through him. After some more seconds, Tony couldn’t hold his gaze any longer and lowered his eyes deferentially. After several more minutes, the silence turned uncomfortable and then heavy, like an iron blanket weighing him down.
Tony didn’t know if Rogers waited for something in particular or just wanted to make him uncomfortable to see where this would lead - or maybe he was just so socially challenged he didn't even realize how weird this stretched silence slowly became - but after several minutes, Tony couldn’t hold the silence any longer.
“So, with your full schedule, do you have any interesting meetings coming up that you can tell me about?”
The cocked eyebrow he got in return animated Tony to hastingly add a “Sir” to his daring question. While the Supreme Commander needed to be in control of everything a 100% of the time, sometimes he found it amusing when Tony tried to make small talk and asked questions about his day. Sometimes he even wanted Tony to take an interest, as a husband should. There was just a very fine line between taking an interest and appearing to question the supersoldier, appearing to gain information that Tony wasn’t privy to.
It didn’t matter that Tony had no means to communicate any information he might gain to anyone of importance, let alone use this information for anything by himself. His husband was unpredictable and irrational like that sometimes.
“Just some meetings, political things, nothing that would interest you.”
The dismissal was clear in his voice. This was nothing he would discuss further with Tony.
“Oh, and I’ve been invited to the opening of some laboratory where they will present their robotics research.”
Tony perked up at this. He had never been good at having a poker face, which made him far too easy to read to the supersoldier, who knew exactly how to catch his attention.
“I haven’t decided yet if I’ll go, but I heard they have planned a big program where the visitors can try themselves out as well. What do you think, should I go?”
This question felt like another test, yet Tony was way too predictable and couldn’t keep the excitement out of his voice when he answered.
“That actually sounds really cool!”
He swallowed. He had to tone it down.
“I mean, that sounds like they have thought about what to present to their guests to make it an interesting visit! I…”
Tony bit his lip. He knew he should just shut up now before he regretted it later, but it had been so long since he had done anything remotely fascinating and now his husband was presenting an opportunity like this on a golden platter?
“I would really love to accompany you, Sir… if you would allow me, of course. I promise I wouldn’t embarrass you or anything, I just… I would really love to go.”
His husband smiled mirthlessly.
“We’ll see. I think we agree that something like that would be a big reward. I’m not sure if you have earned that yet.”
Tony just wanted to cry in that moment. Of course the blond man would dangle something like that in front of his face just to pull it out of his reach seconds later. Foolish of him to get his hopes up. Well, maybe he could still try to be really good and earn that reward?