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madefromserum October 14 2011, 17:58:00 UTC
[ Steve could go on forever, dancing around the punching bag and lunging forward to send it flying backwards, catching it with quick reflexes before it can knock him to the ground in turn. He's been in the gym for a while, running on the treadmill and pumping the weights, a skipping rope hanging from an exercise bike from where he's yet to put it away. Prior to taking in the super-soldier serum, Steve would be lucky if he could walk a few blocks before needing to rest, not that it ever stopped him, but he can go for hours at a time now before finally breaking a sweat or losing his breath ( ... )

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starveforscotch October 14 2011, 19:58:45 UTC
[ He's momentarily transfixed by the way his muscles flex, shiny with effort and rock hard looking underneath his thin t-shirt. Tony has to swallow down the lump in his throat, willing his pulse back to a reasonable degree before JARVIS starts harping on about his blood pressure. Dragging his gaze from Steve's stomach up to his eyes just in time to realise he's being addressed. ]

Huh? Oh yeah, I left it running, figure it could do without me for a bit. [ Shit, is his voice going raspy. ] How long you been down here?

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madefromserum October 14 2011, 20:21:46 UTC
[ Unable to conceive the idea that Tony might just be taking a moment to admire his body, Steve watches him with concern while he waits for a response, not sure what to make of the strange way his voice comes or how distracted he seems.

The bandages off, he drops them down to the side and wipes off his hands on the towel, throwing it around his neck, and then places a warm, gentle hand on Tony's shoulder, leaning in as he asks. ] You okay? You seem a little...flustered. [ He tries not to, but ends up stealing a subtle glance down to where the glowing circle usually sits. ] A good couple of hours, thought I'd get some time in while there's nothing to do.

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starveforscotch October 14 2011, 20:33:53 UTC
[ This close, Tony can feel the heat radiating from Steve, can see the jump in his throat as adrenaline picks up his pulse. It's inherently distracting, and he can feel his stomach swooping. He should be too exhausted for the swoop of lust that pools hot in his stomach, too tired for the way he suddenly wants to wrap himself around those broad shoulders. But he's not, and it's making it hard to focus.

Waving a hand. ] Yeah, yeah. It's uh - hot in here, that's all. [ If he inhales he can smell Steve, just a spicy tang on his tongue. ] That was the Captain America workout, huh?

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