Steve/Tony
Title: Sage Advice
Author: finding_jay
Pairing: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Rating: NC:17
Warnings: PWP, vague sub!Tony
Summary: Steve has problems with warm dinners and Tony has an oral fixation.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters herein.
Notes: It's been a very, very long time since I've written anything, particularly anything like this. I'm still getting used to the characters.
Thanks to usagiko for betaing this.
I also listened to Leonard Cohen's 'I'm Your Man' far too much while writing this.
'Sit down,' he said, 'you're making the place look untidy.'
There was a cough from Steve, which Tony chose to ignore, and the sound of his shoes moving across the floor. Tony tracked his journey out of the corner of his eye. Steve pulled over a stool and sat down on it, his feet propped up on the metal bar. Tuning his attention back to his work once he'd decided Steve wasn't going to start rummaging about, he readjusted the magnifying glass he'd long since confiscated from Dum-E.
'So, I was thinking about- '
'Ah, ah, ah!' Tony interjected, holding up a finger with his free hand.
He slowly pulled the soldering iron away from the board and let the tip rest on the sponge. It sizzled, a trickle of smoke coming from it. Giving the tip another quick wipe over the sponge to clean it, he popped it back on the stand, and finally swung around to face Steve. He looked neat out of his usual gear- collared shirt, combed hair, the pleats in his pants pressed to a crisp line. Tony almost expected to see a pair of suspenders or spats and a bowler hat on his head. Amused by the idea, he settled back in the chair, ankles crossed.
'You were saying?'
'I was just- I came here because of, uh, that... that, um, conversation we had back, back at, you know, S.H.I.E.L.D., about, you know, last week? About- '
'Yeah, so, I'm busy right now,' Tony interrupted once again. He swung back towards the workbench and picked up the motherboard he had been working on. Pulling the magnifying glass back in place, he studied the component, and, satisfied, picked up the next piece to work on. 'So unless you have anything else absolutely enthralling to talk about, like giant block monsters or something, I've really got more interesting things to do.'
'Okay, I get it. You don't like me.'
'I never said that exactly,' Tony muttered, mostly to himself.
'Yeah, you did. Maybe not those exact words, but you definitely insinuated it-'
'Fucking super hearing,' Tony muttered again, this time a little louder.
'- and despite all that...' Steve drifted off. Tony raised his eyes and tilted his head towards him, waiting for him to continue. 'I still want your advice,' he finished, a little weakly.
'Advice?'
Steve nodded.
'About?'
'The... er, conversation I mentioned. Just before. About... relations.'
'Relations?'
Steve nodded again.
The corner of Tony's lips quirked into a smirk. Oh, god, this was precious. 'What kind of relations are we talking about here, Steve?'
'You know. Relations. Between a, a, you know. Of the healthy-' Steve cleared his throat here- 'warm dinner kind.'
'Warm dinner kind?'
Steve nodded thrice.
'We're talking about relations between you and a warm dinner?'
A blush grew on Steve's cheeks. 'I wasn't talking about m-myself and a warm dinner, I meant more of, of a, you know, man, and a, a...'
Tony arched an eyebrow. He was struggling to not laugh, to not let the huge smile that was begging to cross his lips, to not tip his head back and howl with laughter. He could feel tears of utter amusement sting his eyes. Fuck, this was beautiful. Captain fucking America, his father's pet project, World War Two hero, this beautiful blonde man, and fuck, they were having this conversation.
'And a what, Steve?' God, how did that come out straight?
'A man.'
'A man and a man?'
'No! A man, and, and, and a woman.'
'A man and a woman and a warm dinner?'
'Yes.'
Tony bit his tongue, his lip, his cheek. He swung his chair back to work bench and clutched his soldering iron. Immediately the grin spread across his face. His stomach was aching with the urge to laugh. His bare toes curled up on the cold floor- Pepper was always begging him to wear shoes- and he forced himself to calm down.
'Can you help me?'
'Honestly, Steve, I don't think anything could help you.'
'Oh.' A pause. 'Why?'
'Are we talking sex here, or warm dinners?' Tony asked, still astounded by his own level voice. 'Because Pepper makes me dinner sometimes, and it's usually warm, but we've never had sex. And I've stuck it in more than a few people, and they've never made me dinner. So I don't know if you want my help with your meals or your dick.'
'I- '
Tony swung around again, to find Steve's face completely red. His ears were burning, his face flushed, and his skin was pink, all the way down his neck and disappearing under his collar. He arched his brow again, his head cocked to the side. Steve visibly swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.
Fuck, Tony wanted to lick it.
He shifted and propped his elbow up on the workbench, nudging the electrical pieces and soldering iron away.
'The former. I mean, latter. I mean...' Steve's voice dropped here. 'The sex part.'
'You're Captain America. You could have any girl you want. You could have all of them, all at once, at the same time. You'd need a big bed, though. Do you need a big bed, Steve?'
'No.'
'So what's the issue?'
'Girls,' Steve blurted out. 'I'm bad with girls. They're... they're...' He held his hands up, fingers bent like claws. Tony finally let a chuckle escape him. 'I thought they were bad back then. But now- they're all so, so outspoken and... Look at Natasha. I never met a girl like her back then.'
'I've heard rumours she's older than you, Cap.'
Steve shrugged. 'I couldn't talk to girls then, and I still can't talk to them now.'
Tony squinted at Steve. Sure, that was depressing- Tony'd been around the block by the time he was Steve's age, frozen decades aside- but still... 'And how do “warm dinners” come into this?'
'I want one.'
'You want a warm dinner?'
'I want a warm dinner, yes.'
'With... Natasha?'
'What? No! She'd kill me.'
'In many different ways,' Tony agreed. 'And some of it might be fun.'
Steve gave him a dejected look.
'Okay,' Tony sighed. 'What do you want me to do? Give you a few numbers, call around? I can give you a number of a great escort agency- very much on a the down low, beautiful girls, all well educated- '
'No.'
'Don't hate on call girls, Cap. It's a well respected profession, ages old and all that. I'm sure some of them make a good pot roast, since you're all so up for warm dinners. Look, I can get Pepper to give you their card or Happy can drive you around and- '
'No!' Steve stood up, the stool screeching behind him to Tony's chagrin. 'No. I don't want phone numbers or escorts or to be driven around.'
'So what is it?'
Steve froze. He licked his lips, his eyes suddenly darting around. 'The conversation we had last week.'
'We're back on that again?'
Steve shot Tony a glare. At least, it would have been a glare if his face wasn't suddenly twisted up in what appeared to be panic.
'The conversation we had. Last week. Clint was there, but then he left, and so was Natasha. They left, and then we were still talking about women. Or you were.'
It suddenly dawned on Tony. He wanted to nod and go, “uh huh, uh huh”, but he stopped himself. Poker face, drag it out. He felt the arc reactor start to click up a notch, and, to hide the momentary brightness that Steve would no doubt notice, he crossed his arms over his chest.
'I'm sorry, what conversation? I have a lot.'
A pained look crossed Steve's face. He turned on his heel. 'No, forget it.'
'Hey! I still want to talk!' Tony lunged forward and spun around the other man. 'This seems important. I want to know- just jog my memory. Clint and Natasha and you and me and...?'
He remembered the conversation. Not that he'd let on. No, this was more fun. He remembered it all too well. The way Steve had squirmed as Clint and Natasha, heads bowed together, reminiscing about fuck knows what, Tony didn't care, but the general gist being cunnilingus and fellatio and how best to perform it on a woman (in Natasha's case) or a man (in Clint's case) and finally the two breaking up from their gagglefest and asking for their opinion. And sure, Tony had given some sage words of wisdom, pretending to be more interested in his chicken sandwich while he was studying Steve out of the corner of his eye.
Sure, he had a thing for young blondes. He had a thing for young hot anythings. And Steve was a national hero, a national icon. It'd be like fucking the Statue of Liberty.
He just didn't expect Steve to take it seriously.
'We have a lot of conversations. All of us. All the time. What was it?'
'Tony.'
'Was it about the next mission?'
'Tony.'
'Or the way Bruce's been checking out the hot new girl? She's pretty hot.'
'Tony.'
'Oh, the collection of Fury's eyepatches, right? I don't know, he might not like you wearing one. It's more his thing.'
'Tony.'
'Yes, Cap?'
Steve was actually capable of holding a glare now. He was still blushing, his neck burning brighter, and hell if that didn't make Tony's balls tighten. He stepped closer, keeping his eyes locked on Steve's. His nose was only up to Steve's chin, but he still sensed Steve leaning back. Next to hot young blondes was Tony's predilection for those taller than him. Men, women, didn't matter. To be flat on his back with them over him, pushing him down, pinning him to whatever surface they were fucking on-
'Tony.' His breathing had picked up, Tony noted, his lips pressed together.
'You want me to make you a warm dinner?' He grinned, cocky now.
Steve spun away, back straight, but his hands trembling.
'I'll do it,' Tony called, loping his arm over the back of his chair. 'I said I would. Man of my word. Well, most of them. Some of them. A few of them. But the sucking your dick ones, I meant those. Quite sincerely, actually. Hey- hey- don't, don't go out the door, I'm being serious here.'
Gripping the door handle, Steve looked over his shoulder at Tony. 'You're mocking me.'
'A little, sure. But c'mon, move away from the door, sit back down, and we'll talk about why you want me to suck your dick. Afterwards I'll even put a pot roast on.'
A grunt came from Steve. He pushed open the glass door and started to make his way through. Tony lurched forward, and, grabbing Steve's short sleeve, pulled him back into the workroom.
'Sit,' he said. 'I'll get you a drink, we'll talk about your, ah, virginity complex, homoerotic complex, and your Catholic guilt complex- '
'I'm Protestant.'
'Whatever, and then we'll see if we can't find someone to help you, yup? That someone being me, obviously, because I'm all up for plucking your oral cherry.'
'I don't- '
Tony forced the smirk from his lips. Serious face time- he couldn't let Captain America humiliate himself and then go back to the S.H.I.E.L.D. complex with his tail between his legs, pun not intended.
'You came here, with the intention of asking me to go down on you. Right?'
'Tony- '
'Right?'
Squeezing his eyes shut, Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. 'Right.'
'I know you might have a hard time getting used to twenty-first century jokes and sarcasm, but I'll have you know I'm always serious about sex. I mean that. I once said on live TV that I intended to go home and fuck myself. And you know what I did?'
'No, but I'm certain you'll tell me.'
'I did. I went home and jacked myself off into a very sated nap. Bitch to clean up, but thankfully I don't do my own laundry.'
'Look, I really think- '
'But I'm thinking,' Tony interrupted once more, 'that you knew this. That you know that all bullshit aside, I'm a man of my word. And you came here,' he continued, heading back to his workbench and partially forgotten components, 'knowing all too well that when you asked me to fellate you, I'd do it. Because who wouldn't suck Captain America's cock? You probably ejaculate diamonds.'
'Tony.'
He sunk back into his chair. Although his back was to Steve, he could sense that he'd moved away from the door and had followed him back to their prior positions.
'Tony, I don't know if- I mean, right now, is this a good idea?'
'Perfect time, great time. Best time, actually.'
He cringed as he heard Steve pull his stool back up, metal against concrete floor. Pulling the soldering iron back from the stand, he reached for the electrical component he had been working on and slid the magnifying glass back in place. He wasn't actually concentrating- who could, with Captain goddamn fucking America sitting barely two feet away, waiting for his cock to be sucked, and with such patience? Tony had an oral fixation, and that was probably one of his slightly better kept secrets, though it wouldn't take much to figure it out. Pepper had years ago. He was always sticking things in his mouth- pens, nails, his fingers, other people's fingers. Letting his tongue slip out past his lips, biting it, running the tip of his lips with a waggle of his brows just to see the reaction people gave. Biting his fingernails as he saw the newest flight of fancy, imaging how they'd look laying supine on his bed, legs spread, as he dragged his tongue over their cunt or cock, didn't matter, how Steve would look as he wrapped his mouth around Captain fucking goddamn shitting America-
'Tony? Are we- are you- '
'Mm? Oh, you're still here.'
- sucking the soft flesh of his cock, grazing his teeth over the head- shit, he just melted that circuit, no matter, all for a good cause. God, he wanted to drag this moment out. He could almost taste Steve's salty flesh, could feel the texture of his skin as he ran his tongue up his spine. Fuck touching him, fuck actually fucking him, he just wanted to suck on his fingers, feel his pulse under his tongue. He could see him in the reflection of the magnifying glass, face still red, hands clenched on his knees, blonde hair mattered over his forehead. He looked just about fucked already.
'Unzip your pants.'
'What?'
'I can't suck your dick through your pants. I'm not having your fly mashed against my tongue.' Though if that's what it took...
Steve stood up- a little more enthusiastically than Tony expected- and struggled with his fly. He finally unzipped, his erection (to Tony's mild surprise) swollen in the middle of the spread metal teeth. He was wearing white cotton briefs- that Tony wasn't surprised about. Actually, he'd have been disappointed with anything else.
'Underwear, too,' Tony added, still watching him through the glass.
He did as he was told. Tony couldn't read his expression through the glass, but he couldn't trust himself to turn around and keep up his calm demeanour. He moved his attention to the motherboard again, trying to pretend that he knew what he was working on, trying to pretend the arc reactor wasn't going to explode from his chest.
'Move to the wall,' he said, his voice suddenly thick, lower. Fuck, he couldn't control it any more.
'I thought- '
'Wall. Put your back to it. Hands flat.'
He swallowed, his palm sweaty. He readjusted his grip on the soldering iron and took a deep breath though his nose. Careful, slow. Calm himself down, ignore his throbbing erection. He listened to Steve's steps, the sound of his clothing against the wall, waited for him to stop. He started to mentally count back.
Ten.
Set the motherboard down.
Nine.
Wipe the tip of the iron on the sponge.
Eight.
Put it back in place.
Seven.
Stand up. Wipe hands on jeans.
Six.
Shut his eyes, keep his breathing steady.
Five.
Turn. Try to ignore Steve, avoid looking at him, avoid rushing him.
Four.
Fuck it.
Three.
Stalk over to him, footfalls heavy.
Two.
Nose to nose. Or, rather, nose to chin.
One.
'Still want me to suck your cock?'
A nod.
'Do you still want me to suck your cock, Steve?'
Another nod.
Tony licked his lips. He could almost smell it, smell the lust reeking off him, smell the desire emanating from his goddamn super soldier pores. Tony rocked back on his heels, forcing himself to not drop his eyes, to keep them on Steve's fucking blue ones, his pupils blown, lips parted, chest heaving. Tony crossed his arms over his chest, and felt his heart hammering.
'Tell me, Captain America. Why did you come here today?'
'I came here to- to ask you to suck my cock.'
'And why did you ask me that?'
'Because I want you to. Because- ' Steve swallowed hard. 'Because I knew you would.' Then, with more conviction. 'Because I knew you wanted to. Because the great Iron Man doesn't go around saying he'd go down on just anyone.' He let his head rest against the wall, looking at Tony through his eyelashes. 'That good enough?'
Tony leant forward, his chest resting against Steve's. He could feel Steve's erection pressing against his hip, his own aching against Steve's thigh. He brushed his lips against Steve's ear, his breath hot, lips wet. He licked the shell of his ear, his tongue teasing the lobe, teeth catching the cartilage.
'I'm going to suck your cock. I'm going to wrap my lips around your cock and blow you until you come. Understand?'
Steve nodded. Grinning, Tony ran his tongue up Steve's check, relishing the sight of a shudder that coursed through his body. Taking a deep breath through his nose, Tony dropped to his knees, finally letting his eyes rest upon Steve's cock. He ran his tongue over his lips, a growl coming from the back of his throat. It took all his will to not immediately open his mouth, suck it hard, fuck, even deep throat him. It's not one of his best talents, but fuck, he'd give it a go.
He gave a tentative lick of the head of Steve's cock. The man jumped, a soft 'ah!' escaping him. Tony flickered his eyes up to see Steve's teeth clenched, his eyes shut.
'Look at me,' Tony growled, his voice thick, somewhat unrecognisable.
'Ungh?'
'Look at me. Look at me, Cap.'
Steve forced his eyes open and looked down at Tony. He was panting, and Tony hadn't even got started yet. Keeping his eyes locked on Steve's, he took his cock into his mouth, cheeks hollowed. Steve looked gorgeous like this, fucking gorgeous, lips parted, red, flash of tongue, his shirt sticking to his chest with sweat. Tony's tongue flickered over the slit of Steve's cock, teasing, taunting. He ran his teeth over the top of it, tongue tracing the underside, his own mind going into utter fucking meltdown. He was sucking Captain America off. His boyhood hero, pinnacle of American patriotism, goddamn first Avenger. Mouth wrapped around his cock, as Tony dug his fingers into Steve's pants and pulled them down around his knees just so he could reach up again and press his fingers against his ass cheeks.
His tilted his head, tongue running along the side of Steve's cock to his balls. His lips brushed against the soft flesh, tugged at it, eyes up on the tall man the whole time. Steve groaned loudly, his head slamming against the wall. Tony took that moment to shut his own eyes, to soak in the sounds of Steve moaning loudly, his hips rocking, his hands grasping at the empty air. Tony rocked back on his heels, hands still clutching Steve's ass.
'Steve. Cap. '
Steve blearily opened his eyes, blue eyes nearly completely engulfed by his pupils. Getting the impression that Steve wasn't able to speak just now.
'Grab my hair.'
'Nnngh?'
'Do it.'
Somehow Steve was able to understand Tony though his fuck-fogged mind. His fingers latched into Tony's hair and immediately guided his mouth back over his cock. Tony had to give him kudos; the boy learnt fast. He heard Steve gasp something unintelligible under his breath, and then he found himself getting spun around, feet and head against the wall, Steve fucking his mouth, his hands gripping his hair until Tony could swear he was about to rip it out by the roots, and fuck if that doesn't make him moan low in his throat. He finally let go of Steve with one hand and unzipped his jeans, his hand immediately shoving down in his pants and grabbing his own cock.
He could get used to this, Steve's hands in his hair, gripping so tight, not seeming to realise or care. The ache in his knees, cock in his mouth, Steve's increasing moans and breathless gasps. Most of his general lays didn't want to control him- they expected him to push them on all fours, fuck them, give the demands. And sure, Tony was okay with that- it was kind of awkward to pull a strap-on out the first time one bedded a girl, after all- but hell if he didn't long to be the one getting used.
Steve suddenly gasped Tony's name, his motions stalling. Steve gave one final thrust, and then there was the salty, tangy taste of come on Tony's tongue, which he instinctively swallowed. He'd never been a big fan of it, but hell, he knew how to be polite. Slowly, Steve pulled back and, with a final groan, sunk to his knees. Tony's hand was still down his pants, yet he slipped it out, his arm flopping by his side.
'Should I...?' Steve gestured towards Tony's cock. 'That's what... right?'
'No, it's...' Tony waved a hand. 'Don't worry.'
Really, he wants to say “fuck yes, suck my dick dry”, but somehow he doesn't think Steve would quite be ready for that.
'I think- fuck, my head hurts.'
'Sorry,' Steve said, just a little bit too quickly. 'I didn't- '
A smile cracked over Tony's face. 'It's fine. No, scrap that, better than fine, it's been a while since- ' Tony cut himself short, realised his erection was still straining against his boxers, and cleared his throat. 'I'll send you your report card in the mail, okay?'
'Report card?'
'Yeah. You know, math, science, health... cooking.'
'Cooking?'
'Making sure your pot roasts are sufficiently cooked and... stuff.'
They pulled their pants up in relative silence. Although neither of them spoke or looked at the other, it wasn't as uncomfortable as other times with different people had been. Of course as a general rule, Tony tried to avoid the walk of shame. He tended to slip away while his partner slumbered and sequestered himself in his lab. His erection made it difficult to get his fly done up, and once he'd buttoned his jeans closed, he felt the metal teeth rubbing against his boxers, making a shiver dance up his spine.
'Do you need a lift...?'
'I rode here,' Steve replied, his eyes stuck to the floor. 'Motorbike.'
'Right.'
Steve cleared his throat and went about tucking his shit into his pants. 'So, I, uh... you going to be in at S.H.I.E.L.D. tomorrow?'
Tony nodded as he followed Steve to the door to the workroom. Tugging at his shirt sleeve, Steve turned to him again.
'You're not going to, ah, -'
'Not a soul.'
A look of relief flooded Steve's face.
'Though if you want to come by again and ask for more advice, I'm more than happy to oblige.'
The blush flew over Steve's face immediately, his ears turning pink. Making his excuses, he slipped through the door and up the stairs, Tony's mirthful laughter following him. Tony waited, listening as Steve's footsteps grew quieter and the gentle click of the front door.
'Captain Rogers has left the premises, sir,' came JARVIS' tinny voice.
'Turn off the iron, will you, JARVIS?'
'Right away, sir. Will there be anything else?'
'Yeah. Log into the S.H.I.E.L.D mainframe, and see what the Captain usually orders for dinner. Oh, and let me know if Pepper comes around. I'm not going to want to be disturbed.'
'Yes, sir.'
As he made his way up the staircase, Tony's mind was already moving forward to the following days, weeks. Steve would be back- he had no doubt about that in his mind- but once he had made his way to his bedroom, Tony took more pressing issues to hand.
Author: finding_jay
Pairing: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Rating: NC:17
Warnings: PWP, vague sub!Tony
Summary: Steve has problems with warm dinners and Tony has an oral fixation.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters herein.
Notes: It's been a very, very long time since I've written anything, particularly anything like this. I'm still getting used to the characters.
Thanks to usagiko for betaing this.
I also listened to Leonard Cohen's 'I'm Your Man' far too much while writing this.
'Sit down,' he said, 'you're making the place look untidy.'
There was a cough from Steve, which Tony chose to ignore, and the sound of his shoes moving across the floor. Tony tracked his journey out of the corner of his eye. Steve pulled over a stool and sat down on it, his feet propped up on the metal bar. Tuning his attention back to his work once he'd decided Steve wasn't going to start rummaging about, he readjusted the magnifying glass he'd long since confiscated from Dum-E.
'So, I was thinking about- '
'Ah, ah, ah!' Tony interjected, holding up a finger with his free hand.
He slowly pulled the soldering iron away from the board and let the tip rest on the sponge. It sizzled, a trickle of smoke coming from it. Giving the tip another quick wipe over the sponge to clean it, he popped it back on the stand, and finally swung around to face Steve. He looked neat out of his usual gear- collared shirt, combed hair, the pleats in his pants pressed to a crisp line. Tony almost expected to see a pair of suspenders or spats and a bowler hat on his head. Amused by the idea, he settled back in the chair, ankles crossed.
'You were saying?'
'I was just- I came here because of, uh, that... that, um, conversation we had back, back at, you know, S.H.I.E.L.D., about, you know, last week? About- '
'Yeah, so, I'm busy right now,' Tony interrupted once again. He swung back towards the workbench and picked up the motherboard he had been working on. Pulling the magnifying glass back in place, he studied the component, and, satisfied, picked up the next piece to work on. 'So unless you have anything else absolutely enthralling to talk about, like giant block monsters or something, I've really got more interesting things to do.'
'Okay, I get it. You don't like me.'
'I never said that exactly,' Tony muttered, mostly to himself.
'Yeah, you did. Maybe not those exact words, but you definitely insinuated it-'
'Fucking super hearing,' Tony muttered again, this time a little louder.
'- and despite all that...' Steve drifted off. Tony raised his eyes and tilted his head towards him, waiting for him to continue. 'I still want your advice,' he finished, a little weakly.
'Advice?'
Steve nodded.
'About?'
'The... er, conversation I mentioned. Just before. About... relations.'
'Relations?'
Steve nodded again.
The corner of Tony's lips quirked into a smirk. Oh, god, this was precious. 'What kind of relations are we talking about here, Steve?'
'You know. Relations. Between a, a, you know. Of the healthy-' Steve cleared his throat here- 'warm dinner kind.'
'Warm dinner kind?'
Steve nodded thrice.
'We're talking about relations between you and a warm dinner?'
A blush grew on Steve's cheeks. 'I wasn't talking about m-myself and a warm dinner, I meant more of, of a, you know, man, and a, a...'
Tony arched an eyebrow. He was struggling to not laugh, to not let the huge smile that was begging to cross his lips, to not tip his head back and howl with laughter. He could feel tears of utter amusement sting his eyes. Fuck, this was beautiful. Captain fucking America, his father's pet project, World War Two hero, this beautiful blonde man, and fuck, they were having this conversation.
'And a what, Steve?' God, how did that come out straight?
'A man.'
'A man and a man?'
'No! A man, and, and, and a woman.'
'A man and a woman and a warm dinner?'
'Yes.'
Tony bit his tongue, his lip, his cheek. He swung his chair back to work bench and clutched his soldering iron. Immediately the grin spread across his face. His stomach was aching with the urge to laugh. His bare toes curled up on the cold floor- Pepper was always begging him to wear shoes- and he forced himself to calm down.
'Can you help me?'
'Honestly, Steve, I don't think anything could help you.'
'Oh.' A pause. 'Why?'
'Are we talking sex here, or warm dinners?' Tony asked, still astounded by his own level voice. 'Because Pepper makes me dinner sometimes, and it's usually warm, but we've never had sex. And I've stuck it in more than a few people, and they've never made me dinner. So I don't know if you want my help with your meals or your dick.'
'I- '
Tony swung around again, to find Steve's face completely red. His ears were burning, his face flushed, and his skin was pink, all the way down his neck and disappearing under his collar. He arched his brow again, his head cocked to the side. Steve visibly swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.
Fuck, Tony wanted to lick it.
He shifted and propped his elbow up on the workbench, nudging the electrical pieces and soldering iron away.
'The former. I mean, latter. I mean...' Steve's voice dropped here. 'The sex part.'
'You're Captain America. You could have any girl you want. You could have all of them, all at once, at the same time. You'd need a big bed, though. Do you need a big bed, Steve?'
'No.'
'So what's the issue?'
'Girls,' Steve blurted out. 'I'm bad with girls. They're... they're...' He held his hands up, fingers bent like claws. Tony finally let a chuckle escape him. 'I thought they were bad back then. But now- they're all so, so outspoken and... Look at Natasha. I never met a girl like her back then.'
'I've heard rumours she's older than you, Cap.'
Steve shrugged. 'I couldn't talk to girls then, and I still can't talk to them now.'
Tony squinted at Steve. Sure, that was depressing- Tony'd been around the block by the time he was Steve's age, frozen decades aside- but still... 'And how do “warm dinners” come into this?'
'I want one.'
'You want a warm dinner?'
'I want a warm dinner, yes.'
'With... Natasha?'
'What? No! She'd kill me.'
'In many different ways,' Tony agreed. 'And some of it might be fun.'
Steve gave him a dejected look.
'Okay,' Tony sighed. 'What do you want me to do? Give you a few numbers, call around? I can give you a number of a great escort agency- very much on a the down low, beautiful girls, all well educated- '
'No.'
'Don't hate on call girls, Cap. It's a well respected profession, ages old and all that. I'm sure some of them make a good pot roast, since you're all so up for warm dinners. Look, I can get Pepper to give you their card or Happy can drive you around and- '
'No!' Steve stood up, the stool screeching behind him to Tony's chagrin. 'No. I don't want phone numbers or escorts or to be driven around.'
'So what is it?'
Steve froze. He licked his lips, his eyes suddenly darting around. 'The conversation we had last week.'
'We're back on that again?'
Steve shot Tony a glare. At least, it would have been a glare if his face wasn't suddenly twisted up in what appeared to be panic.
'The conversation we had. Last week. Clint was there, but then he left, and so was Natasha. They left, and then we were still talking about women. Or you were.'
It suddenly dawned on Tony. He wanted to nod and go, “uh huh, uh huh”, but he stopped himself. Poker face, drag it out. He felt the arc reactor start to click up a notch, and, to hide the momentary brightness that Steve would no doubt notice, he crossed his arms over his chest.
'I'm sorry, what conversation? I have a lot.'
A pained look crossed Steve's face. He turned on his heel. 'No, forget it.'
'Hey! I still want to talk!' Tony lunged forward and spun around the other man. 'This seems important. I want to know- just jog my memory. Clint and Natasha and you and me and...?'
He remembered the conversation. Not that he'd let on. No, this was more fun. He remembered it all too well. The way Steve had squirmed as Clint and Natasha, heads bowed together, reminiscing about fuck knows what, Tony didn't care, but the general gist being cunnilingus and fellatio and how best to perform it on a woman (in Natasha's case) or a man (in Clint's case) and finally the two breaking up from their gagglefest and asking for their opinion. And sure, Tony had given some sage words of wisdom, pretending to be more interested in his chicken sandwich while he was studying Steve out of the corner of his eye.
Sure, he had a thing for young blondes. He had a thing for young hot anythings. And Steve was a national hero, a national icon. It'd be like fucking the Statue of Liberty.
He just didn't expect Steve to take it seriously.
'We have a lot of conversations. All of us. All the time. What was it?'
'Tony.'
'Was it about the next mission?'
'Tony.'
'Or the way Bruce's been checking out the hot new girl? She's pretty hot.'
'Tony.'
'Oh, the collection of Fury's eyepatches, right? I don't know, he might not like you wearing one. It's more his thing.'
'Tony.'
'Yes, Cap?'
Steve was actually capable of holding a glare now. He was still blushing, his neck burning brighter, and hell if that didn't make Tony's balls tighten. He stepped closer, keeping his eyes locked on Steve's. His nose was only up to Steve's chin, but he still sensed Steve leaning back. Next to hot young blondes was Tony's predilection for those taller than him. Men, women, didn't matter. To be flat on his back with them over him, pushing him down, pinning him to whatever surface they were fucking on-
'Tony.' His breathing had picked up, Tony noted, his lips pressed together.
'You want me to make you a warm dinner?' He grinned, cocky now.
Steve spun away, back straight, but his hands trembling.
'I'll do it,' Tony called, loping his arm over the back of his chair. 'I said I would. Man of my word. Well, most of them. Some of them. A few of them. But the sucking your dick ones, I meant those. Quite sincerely, actually. Hey- hey- don't, don't go out the door, I'm being serious here.'
Gripping the door handle, Steve looked over his shoulder at Tony. 'You're mocking me.'
'A little, sure. But c'mon, move away from the door, sit back down, and we'll talk about why you want me to suck your dick. Afterwards I'll even put a pot roast on.'
A grunt came from Steve. He pushed open the glass door and started to make his way through. Tony lurched forward, and, grabbing Steve's short sleeve, pulled him back into the workroom.
'Sit,' he said. 'I'll get you a drink, we'll talk about your, ah, virginity complex, homoerotic complex, and your Catholic guilt complex- '
'I'm Protestant.'
'Whatever, and then we'll see if we can't find someone to help you, yup? That someone being me, obviously, because I'm all up for plucking your oral cherry.'
'I don't- '
Tony forced the smirk from his lips. Serious face time- he couldn't let Captain America humiliate himself and then go back to the S.H.I.E.L.D. complex with his tail between his legs, pun not intended.
'You came here, with the intention of asking me to go down on you. Right?'
'Tony- '
'Right?'
Squeezing his eyes shut, Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. 'Right.'
'I know you might have a hard time getting used to twenty-first century jokes and sarcasm, but I'll have you know I'm always serious about sex. I mean that. I once said on live TV that I intended to go home and fuck myself. And you know what I did?'
'No, but I'm certain you'll tell me.'
'I did. I went home and jacked myself off into a very sated nap. Bitch to clean up, but thankfully I don't do my own laundry.'
'Look, I really think- '
'But I'm thinking,' Tony interrupted once more, 'that you knew this. That you know that all bullshit aside, I'm a man of my word. And you came here,' he continued, heading back to his workbench and partially forgotten components, 'knowing all too well that when you asked me to fellate you, I'd do it. Because who wouldn't suck Captain America's cock? You probably ejaculate diamonds.'
'Tony.'
He sunk back into his chair. Although his back was to Steve, he could sense that he'd moved away from the door and had followed him back to their prior positions.
'Tony, I don't know if- I mean, right now, is this a good idea?'
'Perfect time, great time. Best time, actually.'
He cringed as he heard Steve pull his stool back up, metal against concrete floor. Pulling the soldering iron back from the stand, he reached for the electrical component he had been working on and slid the magnifying glass back in place. He wasn't actually concentrating- who could, with Captain goddamn fucking America sitting barely two feet away, waiting for his cock to be sucked, and with such patience? Tony had an oral fixation, and that was probably one of his slightly better kept secrets, though it wouldn't take much to figure it out. Pepper had years ago. He was always sticking things in his mouth- pens, nails, his fingers, other people's fingers. Letting his tongue slip out past his lips, biting it, running the tip of his lips with a waggle of his brows just to see the reaction people gave. Biting his fingernails as he saw the newest flight of fancy, imaging how they'd look laying supine on his bed, legs spread, as he dragged his tongue over their cunt or cock, didn't matter, how Steve would look as he wrapped his mouth around Captain fucking goddamn shitting America-
'Tony? Are we- are you- '
'Mm? Oh, you're still here.'
- sucking the soft flesh of his cock, grazing his teeth over the head- shit, he just melted that circuit, no matter, all for a good cause. God, he wanted to drag this moment out. He could almost taste Steve's salty flesh, could feel the texture of his skin as he ran his tongue up his spine. Fuck touching him, fuck actually fucking him, he just wanted to suck on his fingers, feel his pulse under his tongue. He could see him in the reflection of the magnifying glass, face still red, hands clenched on his knees, blonde hair mattered over his forehead. He looked just about fucked already.
'Unzip your pants.'
'What?'
'I can't suck your dick through your pants. I'm not having your fly mashed against my tongue.' Though if that's what it took...
Steve stood up- a little more enthusiastically than Tony expected- and struggled with his fly. He finally unzipped, his erection (to Tony's mild surprise) swollen in the middle of the spread metal teeth. He was wearing white cotton briefs- that Tony wasn't surprised about. Actually, he'd have been disappointed with anything else.
'Underwear, too,' Tony added, still watching him through the glass.
He did as he was told. Tony couldn't read his expression through the glass, but he couldn't trust himself to turn around and keep up his calm demeanour. He moved his attention to the motherboard again, trying to pretend that he knew what he was working on, trying to pretend the arc reactor wasn't going to explode from his chest.
'Move to the wall,' he said, his voice suddenly thick, lower. Fuck, he couldn't control it any more.
'I thought- '
'Wall. Put your back to it. Hands flat.'
He swallowed, his palm sweaty. He readjusted his grip on the soldering iron and took a deep breath though his nose. Careful, slow. Calm himself down, ignore his throbbing erection. He listened to Steve's steps, the sound of his clothing against the wall, waited for him to stop. He started to mentally count back.
Ten.
Set the motherboard down.
Nine.
Wipe the tip of the iron on the sponge.
Eight.
Put it back in place.
Seven.
Stand up. Wipe hands on jeans.
Six.
Shut his eyes, keep his breathing steady.
Five.
Turn. Try to ignore Steve, avoid looking at him, avoid rushing him.
Four.
Fuck it.
Three.
Stalk over to him, footfalls heavy.
Two.
Nose to nose. Or, rather, nose to chin.
One.
'Still want me to suck your cock?'
A nod.
'Do you still want me to suck your cock, Steve?'
Another nod.
Tony licked his lips. He could almost smell it, smell the lust reeking off him, smell the desire emanating from his goddamn super soldier pores. Tony rocked back on his heels, forcing himself to not drop his eyes, to keep them on Steve's fucking blue ones, his pupils blown, lips parted, chest heaving. Tony crossed his arms over his chest, and felt his heart hammering.
'Tell me, Captain America. Why did you come here today?'
'I came here to- to ask you to suck my cock.'
'And why did you ask me that?'
'Because I want you to. Because- ' Steve swallowed hard. 'Because I knew you would.' Then, with more conviction. 'Because I knew you wanted to. Because the great Iron Man doesn't go around saying he'd go down on just anyone.' He let his head rest against the wall, looking at Tony through his eyelashes. 'That good enough?'
Tony leant forward, his chest resting against Steve's. He could feel Steve's erection pressing against his hip, his own aching against Steve's thigh. He brushed his lips against Steve's ear, his breath hot, lips wet. He licked the shell of his ear, his tongue teasing the lobe, teeth catching the cartilage.
'I'm going to suck your cock. I'm going to wrap my lips around your cock and blow you until you come. Understand?'
Steve nodded. Grinning, Tony ran his tongue up Steve's check, relishing the sight of a shudder that coursed through his body. Taking a deep breath through his nose, Tony dropped to his knees, finally letting his eyes rest upon Steve's cock. He ran his tongue over his lips, a growl coming from the back of his throat. It took all his will to not immediately open his mouth, suck it hard, fuck, even deep throat him. It's not one of his best talents, but fuck, he'd give it a go.
He gave a tentative lick of the head of Steve's cock. The man jumped, a soft 'ah!' escaping him. Tony flickered his eyes up to see Steve's teeth clenched, his eyes shut.
'Look at me,' Tony growled, his voice thick, somewhat unrecognisable.
'Ungh?'
'Look at me. Look at me, Cap.'
Steve forced his eyes open and looked down at Tony. He was panting, and Tony hadn't even got started yet. Keeping his eyes locked on Steve's, he took his cock into his mouth, cheeks hollowed. Steve looked gorgeous like this, fucking gorgeous, lips parted, red, flash of tongue, his shirt sticking to his chest with sweat. Tony's tongue flickered over the slit of Steve's cock, teasing, taunting. He ran his teeth over the top of it, tongue tracing the underside, his own mind going into utter fucking meltdown. He was sucking Captain America off. His boyhood hero, pinnacle of American patriotism, goddamn first Avenger. Mouth wrapped around his cock, as Tony dug his fingers into Steve's pants and pulled them down around his knees just so he could reach up again and press his fingers against his ass cheeks.
His tilted his head, tongue running along the side of Steve's cock to his balls. His lips brushed against the soft flesh, tugged at it, eyes up on the tall man the whole time. Steve groaned loudly, his head slamming against the wall. Tony took that moment to shut his own eyes, to soak in the sounds of Steve moaning loudly, his hips rocking, his hands grasping at the empty air. Tony rocked back on his heels, hands still clutching Steve's ass.
'Steve. Cap. '
Steve blearily opened his eyes, blue eyes nearly completely engulfed by his pupils. Getting the impression that Steve wasn't able to speak just now.
'Grab my hair.'
'Nnngh?'
'Do it.'
Somehow Steve was able to understand Tony though his fuck-fogged mind. His fingers latched into Tony's hair and immediately guided his mouth back over his cock. Tony had to give him kudos; the boy learnt fast. He heard Steve gasp something unintelligible under his breath, and then he found himself getting spun around, feet and head against the wall, Steve fucking his mouth, his hands gripping his hair until Tony could swear he was about to rip it out by the roots, and fuck if that doesn't make him moan low in his throat. He finally let go of Steve with one hand and unzipped his jeans, his hand immediately shoving down in his pants and grabbing his own cock.
He could get used to this, Steve's hands in his hair, gripping so tight, not seeming to realise or care. The ache in his knees, cock in his mouth, Steve's increasing moans and breathless gasps. Most of his general lays didn't want to control him- they expected him to push them on all fours, fuck them, give the demands. And sure, Tony was okay with that- it was kind of awkward to pull a strap-on out the first time one bedded a girl, after all- but hell if he didn't long to be the one getting used.
Steve suddenly gasped Tony's name, his motions stalling. Steve gave one final thrust, and then there was the salty, tangy taste of come on Tony's tongue, which he instinctively swallowed. He'd never been a big fan of it, but hell, he knew how to be polite. Slowly, Steve pulled back and, with a final groan, sunk to his knees. Tony's hand was still down his pants, yet he slipped it out, his arm flopping by his side.
'Should I...?' Steve gestured towards Tony's cock. 'That's what... right?'
'No, it's...' Tony waved a hand. 'Don't worry.'
Really, he wants to say “fuck yes, suck my dick dry”, but somehow he doesn't think Steve would quite be ready for that.
'I think- fuck, my head hurts.'
'Sorry,' Steve said, just a little bit too quickly. 'I didn't- '
A smile cracked over Tony's face. 'It's fine. No, scrap that, better than fine, it's been a while since- ' Tony cut himself short, realised his erection was still straining against his boxers, and cleared his throat. 'I'll send you your report card in the mail, okay?'
'Report card?'
'Yeah. You know, math, science, health... cooking.'
'Cooking?'
'Making sure your pot roasts are sufficiently cooked and... stuff.'
They pulled their pants up in relative silence. Although neither of them spoke or looked at the other, it wasn't as uncomfortable as other times with different people had been. Of course as a general rule, Tony tried to avoid the walk of shame. He tended to slip away while his partner slumbered and sequestered himself in his lab. His erection made it difficult to get his fly done up, and once he'd buttoned his jeans closed, he felt the metal teeth rubbing against his boxers, making a shiver dance up his spine.
'Do you need a lift...?'
'I rode here,' Steve replied, his eyes stuck to the floor. 'Motorbike.'
'Right.'
Steve cleared his throat and went about tucking his shit into his pants. 'So, I, uh... you going to be in at S.H.I.E.L.D. tomorrow?'
Tony nodded as he followed Steve to the door to the workroom. Tugging at his shirt sleeve, Steve turned to him again.
'You're not going to, ah, -'
'Not a soul.'
A look of relief flooded Steve's face.
'Though if you want to come by again and ask for more advice, I'm more than happy to oblige.'
The blush flew over Steve's face immediately, his ears turning pink. Making his excuses, he slipped through the door and up the stairs, Tony's mirthful laughter following him. Tony waited, listening as Steve's footsteps grew quieter and the gentle click of the front door.
'Captain Rogers has left the premises, sir,' came JARVIS' tinny voice.
'Turn off the iron, will you, JARVIS?'
'Right away, sir. Will there be anything else?'
'Yeah. Log into the S.H.I.E.L.D mainframe, and see what the Captain usually orders for dinner. Oh, and let me know if Pepper comes around. I'm not going to want to be disturbed.'
'Yes, sir.'
As he made his way up the staircase, Tony's mind was already moving forward to the following days, weeks. Steve would be back- he had no doubt about that in his mind- but once he had made his way to his bedroom, Tony took more pressing issues to hand.