Kiss Me

Touch Me

"HA!" Stark yelled at Thor as he pointed at him from across the table. "Go to jail, loser!"

"What?" Thor asked in his fancy accent, completely confused by the game in and of itself.

"You landed on that, right there," Stark told him, pointing at the board. "That means you go to jail, you go directly to jail, you do not pass 'GO' and you do not collect two hundred dollars."

Thor moved his player over to the space that read 'In Jail' as Clint rolled the die.

I looked over at Steve who was already looking at me from the seat on my left. "I knew playing Monopoly would't be a good idea," he whispered to me. "Sure, Banner's heart was in the right place when he suggested it, but we all know damn well that Stark is way too competitive for any of us to have fun with it."

I chuckled and put my metal hand on his thigh discreetly beneath the tablecloth, wishing he would touch me like that, too. "Yea, not to mention the fact that Stark is literally a businessman," I added. "I mean, how's that even make this a fair game for any of the rest of us?"

He laughed while I took the die from the board in my right hand and rolled them. "Snake eyes!" I shouted as they stopped on the board. I moved two spaces to the space that read 'Free Parking' and collected the stash of money from the side of the board, completely saving me from that last round of bankruptcy when I unluckily found myself landed on Stark's Hotel on 'Tennessee Avenue'.

I handed the die to Steve as it became his turn. He bought some houses for his properties at 'Marvin Gardens' and 'Atlantic Avenue', then rolled so that he could move on along the board like the rest of us.

I was, honestly, dead from the utter boredom. As a matter of fact, I think the only one here who was actually enjoying the game had to be the one and only Tony Stark. Christ, the guy was practically an imaginary billionaire already and we had only started a mere thirty minutes ago.

The only thing keeping me entertained was Steve's uneasiness. You see, I had my hand placed on his thigh and had been slowly raising it up higher and higher until, well, you know. Every so often I'll catch him looking at me in one of four ways.

(1) He wanted to kill me for bringing us so close to the edge of exposure with my hand on him like that

(2) He wanted me to move my hand more ~ whole-heartedly ~ so that he might feel it more

(3) He wanted me to excuse myself so that he could get out of this horrible game

(4) He wanted me to go to the bathroom so that his boner might have the opportunity to go down and no one would have the possibility of seeing it

Usually, it seemed to be a mix of numbers one and two, in that, he didn't want anyone to have any sort of opportunity to see my hand on him like that but he also didn't dare tell me to stop because he secretly liked the feeling of living on edge like this. As for the actual feeling of my hand on his raging hard on itself? He could hardly get enough.

I figured I'd let him out of his misery, though, seeing as it had been a terribly long past few days.

"Hey, guys, sorry to ruin the mood," I began, taking my hand off of Steve's crotch and standing up from my seat at the dining room table. "But I'm exhausted. I definitely need to get some shut eye. I'll see you all in the morning, though."

With that, then, everyone else seemed to drop like flies.

Steve arrived in our room a few minutes after I did, as I assume he waited at the table for a few minutes so that when he stood, no one would see his very obvious boner.

God, I really do make myself laugh sometimes.

~ James_BuchananBarnes ~