Steve was an asshole who made mistakes sometimes, but most people were. Steve's mistakes were just bigger than normal ones could be, more serious and not things that were easily forgiven. But Tony had, he'd looked past what he'd done and to who he was and Steve knew how lucky he was. He'd drawn Steve out of himself, shared the world with him and now all these years later it felt like they were finally getting where they'd been going.
He was beautiful and it hurt, Steve felt the ache of loss knowing that back where he was from he'd never had this, never would. Tony would die without him ever seeing this, telling him how he felt. It was a special kind of agony, one that softened only slightly because at least here and now, this was real. They both needed that edge, rough and hard could also be slow and so, so good.
"Anything," Steve assured him and this time he rocked up harder, a little faster. He used his grip on Tony's hip to help lift him, knowing he was leaving a hand shaped bruise behind.