How Can You Go On With Such Conviction? - Chapter 2
Title: How Can You Go On With Such Conviction?
Author: jaune_chat
Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Characters/Relationships: Steve/Bruce, Steve/Natasha, Steve/Tony, Steve/Thor/Jane, Steve/Clint, Steve/Bucky, Sam Wilson, Darcy Lewis, James Logan (Wolverine), guest appearances by some Agents of SHIELD, Fury, and Coulson.
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 23,057
Spoilers: Uses elements through Captain America: Civil War.
Content Advisory: Alternate Universe, Alpha/Omega/Beta dynamics, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Sex Work, Identity Porn, implied past abuse, action/adventure/violence, references to mind control.
A/N: This story was written for marvel-bang. Amazing art by laughtillwecry. Thanks to brighteyed_jill for betaing!
Art: Amazing art by laughtillwecry can be found here. (Link coming soon)
Summary: Steve Rogers is a professional alpha with an unfortunately famous name. A veteran who specializes in people with top-secret clearance, he’s been having some particularly interesting clients lately. This brings him to the attention of SHIELD, who think an alpha like him could be just the person to help a very ill Asset they have. But Steve has more up his sleeve than just one set of skills when it comes to helping the people he cares for.
On Ao3 or below the cut
Three months later
Steve was used to coming to clients discretely, when asked. He’d taken a lot of taxis to a lot of no-tell heat motels. But this was the first time he’d been greeted at the airport with a limo, and driven by a closed-mouthed employee of his client right to the door of his client’s mansion. But when your client was the miraculously-alive and recently found Tony Stark, who still had more money than most countries despite his abrupt one-eighty on weapons’ manufacture, a limo was the least of things to worry about.
He was met at the door by a taut and poised beta, Tony’s assistant Pepper Potts. She whirled him through a flurry of electronic paperwork with an efficiency that left him gasping, and then finally put her tablet down to look him straight in the eyes.
“Mr. Rogers, I had to push Tony to get help. And he agreed, but if anything goes wrong, that’s going to send him to seal himself inside his workshop again.” Her hands were clasped together in a deceptively loose clasp, white at the knuckles.
“Miss Potts, I’ll do everything I can. I’ve handled…” he thought back to Bruce and Natasha, the most recent complications he’d had, for good reason, “some big problems.”
“I know. Your reputation is impeccable, and from what your clients say-.” Ms. Potts stopped herself and unclasped her hands to rub at her fingers. “I think he really needs you.”
Steve followed her into the depths of the house, past artwork that he itched to examine more closely, and architecture and a view that clearly bespoke the wealth of the Stark name. Not that he’d expected any less. Ms. Potts left him at the bedroom door, retreating back towards the brighter front room, leaving him alone in front of the door. He reached out to the doorknob, only for it to swing open of its own accord.
“Sir,” a British-accenting electronic voice said from a hidden speaker, “the alpha Ms. Potts hired is here. His name is Steve Grant Rogers.”
He stepped inside the cavernous room, dimly lit with subtle mood lightning, plus the pale blue glow of the arc reactor. The circle of lights drew Steve to where Tony Stark was sitting on the edge of the bed, knees spread, head up, staring at him with incredulity that belied the rich, sweet scent of heat.
“Steven Grant Rogers. For real?” Tony asked.
“Yeah, I know. I get it all the time.”
“Were your parents big fans or…?”
“Oh, Mom wasn’t thinking about my name being famous when she had me. And by now I’m used to it. I’ve got a costume. I go to children’s wards in hospitals, or visit veterans, retirees, sometimes do some PSAs. I try to do what I can. I respect what Captain America stands for.”
“It’s kind of uncanny how much you look like him,” Tony said, staring.
“It went to the exhibit at the Smithsonian when they opened it. Really uncanny to see your own face on all of those displays. I guess you know what that feels like.”
“Lil’ old me?” Tony said, fluttering his eyelashes.
“Don’t you have a sculpture in Madame Tussads? I’m pretty sure I’ve seen pictures.”
“The nice ones of me with my arms around me, or the ones with me molesting myself?”
Steve smiled but didn’t answer.
“Right, both.”
Steve nodded at the bed, and Tony waved at him to sit, hands touching his knees, then folding together, as if uncertain about where to settle.
“This is probably a bad idea,” Tony said, bouncing to his feet.
“I think getting help for yourself is always a good idea,” Steve said quietly.
“No, not this--. Believe me, I know I’m going to need someone who I can slap about six NDAs on and you come highly recommended and seem professional as hell from your record. I’m already seeing someone to help get the nightmares down to a reasonable volume. And getting my body back on track’s going to be a huge part of that, I was told.” Tony took a breath, held it, then added quickly, “But you look like him..”
“I can’t help that, Tony.”
“Dad went looking for him, after he went down in the war. Forgot about me sometimes.” Tony had gone distant, looking inside himself.
“He shouldn’t have done that, Tony. That’s a hell of a thing to put on a kid.” And Steve meant that, every single word.
Tony looked haunted, staring into middle distance, before shaking himself back to reality.
“Fuck… you said you do those health PSAs too, don’t you?”
“Better me locking up Captain America’s image for wholesome associations than some plagiarizing jerk just trying to use his image for something hateful.”
“God. I’m plagued with Steve Rogers.”
Steve just smiled sadly and took a towel from his bag, putting it beside him on the bed and patting it in invitation. “You’re so worked up you’re very close to starting,” he warned.
Tony sat, hands fluttering uncertainly for a moment before gripping his knees. He immediately let go, and smoothed over the front of his shirt, shadowing the light on his chest momentarily. That was the reason Steve was here, or at least the representation for it. Four months ago, Tony Stark had gone missing and was presumed dead. One month ago, he’d been found in the desert after a hellish captivity. And now, right now, his body was trying to make up for a lot of stress in a very inconvenient way. That was went Pepper Potts had made a call to the IPA, and they’d recommended Steve.
“Look, don’t touch… don’t touch the arc reactor. It still hurts. I think it’s always going to hurt, and that’s just going to yank me right out of the mood if you press on that. No acrobatics, all right? Or else I don’t think I’m going to be able to catch my breath.”
“Got it,” Steve said.
“I mean, I was okay with Pepper touching it and I’ll probably be fine I think, but… Fuck, this used to be easier.”
“Just be charming and bam, instant bed buddy?”
Tony laughed shortly. “Bed buddy, yes. Not a heat buddy.”
“You kept yourself suppressed?”
“Azure shots four times a year,” Tony confirmed, naming the most popular suppressant shot. “Two scheduled heats a year. Thank fuck I’d had a shot before…”
“Right. Though in stressful situations, sometimes the body tends to avoid heat.”
“That’s a teeny, tiny comfort.”
“Tony…” Steve leaned in, letting his shirt gape enough to waft his scent over in a calming gesture. Tony’s eyes dilated slightly, and he took a deliberate breath in and out. “We can do this however you want. I’ll go as slow as you need.”
“Slow. Really slow. Been a while since I mounted this horse,” he said, with a hint of his famous cocky grin. Steve smiled and leaned forward a little, ready to let Tony take the first move.
Tony tapped his hands on the bed, then toyed with the hem of his shirt as Steve slowly got himself ready. Eventually he dropped the shirt hem in favor of ridding himself of his pants. Underneath, Tony’s boxer briefs were silky, red, and very brief indeed. “Right, how do you want me?” he asked, tossing his head like he was being filmed by the paparazzi.
“How do you want me?” Steve countered, a hair more serious. He could take the lead if Tony really wanted it, but every bit of instinct and experience said Tony wanted more than to be told what to do, even in heat.
“In uniform, so I can fulfill some major adolescent spank-bank fantasies oh Got what is my mouth doing? Don’t even listen to me; I’m on all sorts of edges.”
Steve leaned into Tony’s space slowly, nude now from his preparations, and was about to speak when Tony darted in for a kiss, a desperate, passionate kiss that made Steve’s ears hot. When Tony pulled back, he looked both embarrassed and smug at the same time, and then relieved when Steve followed up with a soft kiss in return.
“Some of those edges feeling less sharp?”
“Maybe,” Tony said coyly. Steve could see the shiny, confident Stark showmanship coming to the fore in Tony’s body language. As entertaining as that would undoubtedly be, Tony didn’t need to spend the energy in in putting on a display, something he’d have to do over and over again in the future. He didn’t, shouldn’t have to do that with Steve. Not now.
“Hey, you don’t have to impress me. I’m not filming you,” Steve said.
“But I like being impressive,” Tony said, flashing a grin.
“You already are, Tony. You always have been.”
“What, even ow, when I’m a poster child for being off my head? Check social media, I’ve got a few feeds dedicated to my questionable mental state,” Tony said, sighing almost imperceptibly.
“You don’t need me to tell you you know that’s not true.”
Tony dropped most of the façade, and straddled Steve’s lap without another word. “You sound like him too. That sounds like something he would say.”
“Is that bad?” Steve asked, hands on Tony’s hips, loose and easy. Their lips were a breath apart.
“No.” A pause, a shift, and Steve could feel Tony’s wetness, see his eagerness. “God, no.”
“I want you to feel right again in your own body,” Steve said, catching Tony’s eyes. Tony let his head fall back, and briefly laid his hand over the arc reactor in his chest. He looked more relaxed now, no longer fighting his heat or trying to put on a mask.
“Okay, Romeo, you’ve got me.” Tony shifted, tugged, and his briefs, well, more panties than briefs, just fell away in fluttering scraps. With a deep breath, Tony also took his shirt off, exposing the circle of metal and lights, and the scars that pitted the flesh around it. This was far more Sam’s wheelhouse than Steve’s, helping omegas who had taken bad physical injuries, but Steve had been the one to go to the extra lengths necessary to get his high-level clearance, and all the pains that brought. But both of them had swapped what stories they could, within the constraints of their clients’ privacy, just in case. All knowledge was useful, and Steve was never adverse to learning.
Tony needed the best, with all that he’d been through. With great care for his cyborged chest, Steve murmured a quick question, got Tony’s affirmative, and sheathed himself slow inside Tony’s ready body. Tony mostly kept his eyes shut as their hips moved together in easy rhythm, occasionally stealing looks at Steve, but mostly concentrating on his own body. Instead of his hyperverbal razzle-dazzle, Ton was quiet except for a few soft comments. “Yeah.” “Harder.” “Slower.” “Fuck! Like that.” This felt very personal, like what Tony wanted when he was alone. Steve didn’t resent the relative isolation. Tony had been forced to live with his captors every moment of his captivity - to be alone in a safe space was the height of luxury right now
It touched Steve to see Tony letting himself go like that. When their climax came, it was Steve first, hands on Tony’s thighs, Tony’s hand on his own cock, encouraging himself to follow a few moments later. He squirmed down to take as much of Steve as he could with a sigh of satisfaction, and leaned forward to rest on Steve’s shoulder.
“Yeah, you’re all right,” Tony said into his skin.
“Even if I’m Steve Rogers?”
Tony laughed. “Can’t help that, Cap.”
Steve didn’t even bother to protest the nickname.
--
Four months later
“Steve? I think I’ve got a good problem for you,” Darcy said, flopping down across his and Sam’s laps on the sofa without so much as a by-your-leave. Sam reflexively held his drink up as she made her landing, then proceeded to use her knee as a coaster. Both of them ignored each other as Darcy talked to Steve.
“A good problem?” Steve asked, raising an eyebrow. Darcy nodded, tossing her hair back over her shoulder.
“You’ve got the top-secret agent clearance, right?”
“Um… more or less,” he said, knowing better than getting into battles of semantics with Darcy.
“Look, I’ve got my best girlfriend from college, fellow omega, got herself a boyfriend who’s just out of this world, and they need a little, you know, instruction,” she said, with some evocatively graphic gestures that had Sam snickering even as he supposedly looked straight ahead at the news on screen.
“…how did anyone who’s ever known you ever not know everything there was to know about the birds and the bees by the time they’d spent a week with you?” Steve asked.
Darcy laughed. “Jane’s not as high-drive as me-.”
“Nobody is,” Sam muttered, and she tried to kick him in the side. He ticked her feet in revenge. She squirmed enough to get him to nearly upset his drink, and he stopped.
“It’s her boyfriend. Super-nice guy, don’t get me wrong, he’s just a little different. Or a lot. But mostly in a good way? Anywho, you need some clearance or other to really get the deets, so that’s why I thought of you. You’ve done show-and-tells before, right?”
Sam guffawed outright, and Steve rubbed the back of his neck and tried not to blush. “Yes, a few times.”
“Aw, Stevie, don’t be shy! You’ve got a lot to show!”
Sam lost it, slamming his drink down on the table and howling into Darcy’s legs as she patted the top of Steve’s head.
At that point, Steve would have accepted her job suggestion no matter what, just to avoid having a repeat conversation at any point in time.
--
Steve wasn’t used to feeling small, not in a long time. Certainly he’d met guys, and some gals, who were bigger than him, but it was uncommon. To open a door and have to look up, even slightly, was a pleasant shock. Particularly because his work order had been for one Jane Foster, whom he’d FaceTimed not ten minutes ago.
“Ah, welcome. Come in! You are the alpha?”
The man was tall, broad, very nicely muscled under a thin robe, with a mane of long blond hair, a short beard, and million-watt smile.
“That’s me,” Steve said, offering a hand and having his own met and matched by the man’s calloused mitt. “Steve Rogers, from IPA.”
“I am Thor Odinsson, and my lady Jane would like me to conduct you to the bedroom,” he said, sweeping his arm in towards the depths of the house. Steve felt the sudden need to bow. Thor was so curiously formal even while not seeming to be. Up close, Thor smelled like a summer evening after a rainstorm, lightning still flickering. He had no scent otherwise, no musky alpha or rich omega or even the clean spring morning of a beta.
That bore out what Dr. Foster had told him over the secure line. He supposed he was used to a lot of oddity in his line of work, but a man from another world? That was new. At least that sounded somewhat better than “alien.” Even so, Jane and Thor had been together for nearly a year, and apparently intimate, so he couldn’t be so very different from human. Just different enough for her to request a little professional help that had apparently required someone with Steve’s clearance to handle.
Steve made a very brief detour to get out of his street clothes and into a working robe, then joined the two lovers in the bedroom. Jane Foster was in the early stages of heat by her scent, her temples damp, already clad in a silk robe as her body became more sensitive. She blushed when she saw him, and he just gave her a reassuring smile.
“Jane,” Thor said, urging Steve forward with a hand on his back, “this is Steve.”
He successfully restrained the urge to bow, and instead hugged her to share scent. Thor didn’t give any little signs of alpha territoriality, no little growls or excessive looming, no immediate counter-scenting. Mostly he seemed pleased that Steve was being kind, here to give Jane what she needed. Steve expected at least a frown; having someone else in your bedroom was usually awkward, unless that was your thing. Their relationship must had been ironclad. Thor just sat down on Jane’s other side and smiled when she took his hand.
“Jane already told me what you had communicated about. We have attempted a heat coupling once before,” Thor said, “And it was a bit… disastrous.”
“What about your couplings other times? Everything all right there?”
“Very!” Jane said quickly and enthusiastically. Thor grinned.
“Indeed, all sex outside of heat is delightful, but I would not see my lady unsatisfied and unhappy.”
“Could I get more details?” Steve asked delicately.
“I just couldn’t…” Jane made a few evocative gestures.
“Climax,” Thor supplied helpfully. “I attempted all she asked of me.”
“And more! But I just…” She sighed in frustration. “We did knot simulation as best we could but it still didn’t really work.”
“It seems I am slightly different than your alphas on this world.”
“I showed him some anatomy pictures and sex-ed lectures, and some, um, porn that wasn’t too inaccurate, but there’s not too many people I can talk to without SHIELD getting mad,” Jane said.
“Well…” Steve started, and Thor interrupted him.
“I shall show you,” Thor said, and casually opened his robe. Well. Wow. Jane was nodding proudly at Steve’s reaction. If Steve hadn’t been here professionally, and Thor wasn’t already attached… He mentally shook his head and took a closer look. Thor looked healthy, if very generously endowed, but his shaft was entirely smooth and straight, without the vestigial knot that even betas had while soft.
Steve nodded, trying to look businesslike, and opened his own robe, taking in Jane’s scent as he did so, and felt himself fill out. Thor looked at him thoughtfully, as Jane snuck looks a little more surreptitiously.
“May I?”
“Certainly.”
Thor held him loosely, exploring the slightly filled knot with intense curiosity. It wasn’t the hesitancy Steve had had with the few virgin clients he’d had, nor was it the deliberate titillation of a few who were laboring under the misconception that a professional alpha was the same as a sex worker, and had wanted to see him hot and bothered. There was a lot of overlap between the professions, but Steve was never being hired to fulfill a fantasy - he was there for medical and therapeutic reasons. Not that both professions didn’t swap a lot of notes, but they worked opposites sides of a very thin line. By law, sex workers were required to refuse clients in heat or rut, and professionals, unless educating, never were contracted with someone who wasn’t in heat or rut. People got unreasonable in heat and rut, and you had to be able to negotiate those demands with the same care a sex worker negotiated someone’s fantasies.
Thor however, just looked slightly scientific as he weighed and observed and measured.
“You are quite sensitive at the knot?” he asked.
“Very,” Steve said, and Thor moved his hand away. He took a few seconds to calm down, and saw that Jane was looking rather appreciative, in a somewhat detached, “Well, isn’t that interesting” sort of way. “It does get bigger and firmer closer to climax, then stays firm inside the omega from anywhere from fifteen minutes to an hour, depending on the couple in question. Some alphas soften earlier or later, some omegas stop clamping down earlier or later.”
“Ah. Then when I tried a similar effect with my fingers?” Thor asked, looking at Jane.
“Close!” Jane said quickly, and blushed. “But it was very awkward to hold in place.”
“All right, then. I might have a solution for that. Jane, what about alpha hormones? What’s your receptivity?”
“My doctor said I have a very low receptivity. That was extra useful in college when some people were strutting around like peacocks. It smells nice, but I don’t need it. A little alpha air freshener, and I’m good,” she said.
“Then I definitely have something to help.” Steve closed his robe regretfully. He might have liked to indulge him, her, or both, but that wasn’t what was needed here. Steve delved into a bag he’d brought with him, and came out with a case. He clicked it open to reveal a couple dozen orbs with holes in them, in colors ranging from various skin tones to bright rainbow shades. “Cock knots,” he explained. Jane made a little nod of recognition and her eyes widened with excitement. “You fit them over your own knot, or where it should be. Trans alphas use them, or people who want bigger knots or need them for their partners.” Thor grinned happily. Steve eyed Thor, then took out the blue one, which was reasonably proportioned for him, and was actually likely to fit the man’s equipment. Thor took it, looking it over, then flicked it open.
“Just fit it on near the base, right there! Perfect. It should stay until you unsnap it. Don’t wear it for more than three hours, and not when you’re not erect. And don’t use it for anal or oral sex, because that’s a tearing or choking hazard. Clean it with mild soap and water when you’re done. I’ve just cleaned these, so you are good to go.”
Jane looked very eager, and her scent was rising sharply. Steve stood, putting the case away. “I’ll see myself out?”
“Wait!” Jane said. “In case something… Will you stay in case we have other questions?”
“Indeed.” Thor waved Steve back to the chair next to the bed. Well, this wasn’t unheard of, but Steve hadn’t done it very often. He checked with both of them, and Jane nodded.
“Please!”
Steve settled his robe around himself and sat down, trying to look cool and collected. These two were incredibly sweet, but Darcy still owed him, big time. Despite this being part of his job, it was never less than awkward, for him if no one else.
Thor picked up Jane in a sweetly romantic move, setting her down on the bed and opening her robe with reverence, stopping often for kisses. Jane matched him move for move, taking every opportunity of a kiss to tug at his robe until he was just as naked as she. Her hands buried themselves in his hair as he moved down her body, and Thor took a long time to worship every part of her. When he reached the juncture of her thighs, Jane was tilting her hips up in an unsubtle hint, and Thor walked his fingers up her body to her mouth in response. She took them in enthusiastically, then suddenly looked at Steve and blushed furiously. He glanced away, angling his arm to hide his erection as much as possible (he was a professional alpha next to a very in-heat omega; normally everything south of the border was on the clock in similar circumstances, and the response was hard to shake), and she tried to regain her aplomb as she laved her tongue over Thor’s fingers to get them wet. He trailed them down her body again, and Jane cried out as he pushed them inside her, smiling at her reaction.
Thor pulled his hands back with reluctance, and went to push his cock into Jane, who was clearly more than ready. He paused, making Jane glare at both of them and whine in the back of her throat. Steve winced; she sounded like Darcy in a temper.
“I don’t wish to hurt you,” Thor said, one hand on his impressively-sized equipment, tenderly stroking her side with the other. And yes, under other circumstances Steve might have counseled some caution and longer foreplay, except if Jane was entirely happy with their sex life outside of heat, then she was about as delicate as tempered steel.
“I’ll be fine! Thor, please,” she said. Thor looked to Steve, his hot blue gaze carrying enough raw charisma to make Steve swallow and shift his hips. Not that Thor didn’t believe his girlfriend, but only that they’d failed in this endeavor before and this time he wanted this to be perfect. Steve knew that drive for perfection anywhere.
“Trust us, she’ll be great,” Steve said reassuringly.
Thor, bless him, didn’t hesitate long. “All at once, or slowly?” Jane growled in impatience.
“Slowly at first,” Steve recommended, and had Jane’s glare turned on him. He grimaced sympathetically. The glaring stopped when Thor’s low slow slide was capped off by careful push of the artificial knot inside her. She curled her arms and legs around him, every line of her claiming possession. Thor rocked inside the cradle of her thighs, working the knot inside her as Steve gave some evocatively graphic pantomimes as silent instruction. Or “sex charades” as Darcy called them.
Jane cried out finally as her body seized in pleasure long unsatisfied, holding on like she’d never let go.
“Thor, oh God, that was perfect.” She kissed him over and over. Thor looked simultaneously stunned and very satisfied with everything, and gave Steve a look of deep gratitude as he gathered up his lady to enjoy the closeness of her heat.
Steve decided, as he got dressed and showed himself out, that this had been one of his better clients after all.
But Darcy still owed him. Big time.
---------------
Chapter 3
Chapter 1
Master Post
Author: jaune_chat
Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Characters/Relationships: Steve/Bruce, Steve/Natasha, Steve/Tony, Steve/Thor/Jane, Steve/Clint, Steve/Bucky, Sam Wilson, Darcy Lewis, James Logan (Wolverine), guest appearances by some Agents of SHIELD, Fury, and Coulson.
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 23,057
Spoilers: Uses elements through Captain America: Civil War.
Content Advisory: Alternate Universe, Alpha/Omega/Beta dynamics, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Sex Work, Identity Porn, implied past abuse, action/adventure/violence, references to mind control.
A/N: This story was written for marvel-bang. Amazing art by laughtillwecry. Thanks to brighteyed_jill for betaing!
Art: Amazing art by laughtillwecry can be found here. (Link coming soon)
Summary: Steve Rogers is a professional alpha with an unfortunately famous name. A veteran who specializes in people with top-secret clearance, he’s been having some particularly interesting clients lately. This brings him to the attention of SHIELD, who think an alpha like him could be just the person to help a very ill Asset they have. But Steve has more up his sleeve than just one set of skills when it comes to helping the people he cares for.
On Ao3 or below the cut
Three months later
Steve was used to coming to clients discretely, when asked. He’d taken a lot of taxis to a lot of no-tell heat motels. But this was the first time he’d been greeted at the airport with a limo, and driven by a closed-mouthed employee of his client right to the door of his client’s mansion. But when your client was the miraculously-alive and recently found Tony Stark, who still had more money than most countries despite his abrupt one-eighty on weapons’ manufacture, a limo was the least of things to worry about.
He was met at the door by a taut and poised beta, Tony’s assistant Pepper Potts. She whirled him through a flurry of electronic paperwork with an efficiency that left him gasping, and then finally put her tablet down to look him straight in the eyes.
“Mr. Rogers, I had to push Tony to get help. And he agreed, but if anything goes wrong, that’s going to send him to seal himself inside his workshop again.” Her hands were clasped together in a deceptively loose clasp, white at the knuckles.
“Miss Potts, I’ll do everything I can. I’ve handled…” he thought back to Bruce and Natasha, the most recent complications he’d had, for good reason, “some big problems.”
“I know. Your reputation is impeccable, and from what your clients say-.” Ms. Potts stopped herself and unclasped her hands to rub at her fingers. “I think he really needs you.”
Steve followed her into the depths of the house, past artwork that he itched to examine more closely, and architecture and a view that clearly bespoke the wealth of the Stark name. Not that he’d expected any less. Ms. Potts left him at the bedroom door, retreating back towards the brighter front room, leaving him alone in front of the door. He reached out to the doorknob, only for it to swing open of its own accord.
“Sir,” a British-accenting electronic voice said from a hidden speaker, “the alpha Ms. Potts hired is here. His name is Steve Grant Rogers.”
He stepped inside the cavernous room, dimly lit with subtle mood lightning, plus the pale blue glow of the arc reactor. The circle of lights drew Steve to where Tony Stark was sitting on the edge of the bed, knees spread, head up, staring at him with incredulity that belied the rich, sweet scent of heat.
“Steven Grant Rogers. For real?” Tony asked.
“Yeah, I know. I get it all the time.”
“Were your parents big fans or…?”
“Oh, Mom wasn’t thinking about my name being famous when she had me. And by now I’m used to it. I’ve got a costume. I go to children’s wards in hospitals, or visit veterans, retirees, sometimes do some PSAs. I try to do what I can. I respect what Captain America stands for.”
“It’s kind of uncanny how much you look like him,” Tony said, staring.
“It went to the exhibit at the Smithsonian when they opened it. Really uncanny to see your own face on all of those displays. I guess you know what that feels like.”
“Lil’ old me?” Tony said, fluttering his eyelashes.
“Don’t you have a sculpture in Madame Tussads? I’m pretty sure I’ve seen pictures.”
“The nice ones of me with my arms around me, or the ones with me molesting myself?”
Steve smiled but didn’t answer.
“Right, both.”
Steve nodded at the bed, and Tony waved at him to sit, hands touching his knees, then folding together, as if uncertain about where to settle.
“This is probably a bad idea,” Tony said, bouncing to his feet.
“I think getting help for yourself is always a good idea,” Steve said quietly.
“No, not this--. Believe me, I know I’m going to need someone who I can slap about six NDAs on and you come highly recommended and seem professional as hell from your record. I’m already seeing someone to help get the nightmares down to a reasonable volume. And getting my body back on track’s going to be a huge part of that, I was told.” Tony took a breath, held it, then added quickly, “But you look like him..”
“I can’t help that, Tony.”
“Dad went looking for him, after he went down in the war. Forgot about me sometimes.” Tony had gone distant, looking inside himself.
“He shouldn’t have done that, Tony. That’s a hell of a thing to put on a kid.” And Steve meant that, every single word.
Tony looked haunted, staring into middle distance, before shaking himself back to reality.
“Fuck… you said you do those health PSAs too, don’t you?”
“Better me locking up Captain America’s image for wholesome associations than some plagiarizing jerk just trying to use his image for something hateful.”
“God. I’m plagued with Steve Rogers.”
Steve just smiled sadly and took a towel from his bag, putting it beside him on the bed and patting it in invitation. “You’re so worked up you’re very close to starting,” he warned.
Tony sat, hands fluttering uncertainly for a moment before gripping his knees. He immediately let go, and smoothed over the front of his shirt, shadowing the light on his chest momentarily. That was the reason Steve was here, or at least the representation for it. Four months ago, Tony Stark had gone missing and was presumed dead. One month ago, he’d been found in the desert after a hellish captivity. And now, right now, his body was trying to make up for a lot of stress in a very inconvenient way. That was went Pepper Potts had made a call to the IPA, and they’d recommended Steve.
“Look, don’t touch… don’t touch the arc reactor. It still hurts. I think it’s always going to hurt, and that’s just going to yank me right out of the mood if you press on that. No acrobatics, all right? Or else I don’t think I’m going to be able to catch my breath.”
“Got it,” Steve said.
“I mean, I was okay with Pepper touching it and I’ll probably be fine I think, but… Fuck, this used to be easier.”
“Just be charming and bam, instant bed buddy?”
Tony laughed shortly. “Bed buddy, yes. Not a heat buddy.”
“You kept yourself suppressed?”
“Azure shots four times a year,” Tony confirmed, naming the most popular suppressant shot. “Two scheduled heats a year. Thank fuck I’d had a shot before…”
“Right. Though in stressful situations, sometimes the body tends to avoid heat.”
“That’s a teeny, tiny comfort.”
“Tony…” Steve leaned in, letting his shirt gape enough to waft his scent over in a calming gesture. Tony’s eyes dilated slightly, and he took a deliberate breath in and out. “We can do this however you want. I’ll go as slow as you need.”
“Slow. Really slow. Been a while since I mounted this horse,” he said, with a hint of his famous cocky grin. Steve smiled and leaned forward a little, ready to let Tony take the first move.
Tony tapped his hands on the bed, then toyed with the hem of his shirt as Steve slowly got himself ready. Eventually he dropped the shirt hem in favor of ridding himself of his pants. Underneath, Tony’s boxer briefs were silky, red, and very brief indeed. “Right, how do you want me?” he asked, tossing his head like he was being filmed by the paparazzi.
“How do you want me?” Steve countered, a hair more serious. He could take the lead if Tony really wanted it, but every bit of instinct and experience said Tony wanted more than to be told what to do, even in heat.
“In uniform, so I can fulfill some major adolescent spank-bank fantasies oh Got what is my mouth doing? Don’t even listen to me; I’m on all sorts of edges.”
Steve leaned into Tony’s space slowly, nude now from his preparations, and was about to speak when Tony darted in for a kiss, a desperate, passionate kiss that made Steve’s ears hot. When Tony pulled back, he looked both embarrassed and smug at the same time, and then relieved when Steve followed up with a soft kiss in return.
“Some of those edges feeling less sharp?”
“Maybe,” Tony said coyly. Steve could see the shiny, confident Stark showmanship coming to the fore in Tony’s body language. As entertaining as that would undoubtedly be, Tony didn’t need to spend the energy in in putting on a display, something he’d have to do over and over again in the future. He didn’t, shouldn’t have to do that with Steve. Not now.
“Hey, you don’t have to impress me. I’m not filming you,” Steve said.
“But I like being impressive,” Tony said, flashing a grin.
“You already are, Tony. You always have been.”
“What, even ow, when I’m a poster child for being off my head? Check social media, I’ve got a few feeds dedicated to my questionable mental state,” Tony said, sighing almost imperceptibly.
“You don’t need me to tell you you know that’s not true.”
Tony dropped most of the façade, and straddled Steve’s lap without another word. “You sound like him too. That sounds like something he would say.”
“Is that bad?” Steve asked, hands on Tony’s hips, loose and easy. Their lips were a breath apart.
“No.” A pause, a shift, and Steve could feel Tony’s wetness, see his eagerness. “God, no.”
“I want you to feel right again in your own body,” Steve said, catching Tony’s eyes. Tony let his head fall back, and briefly laid his hand over the arc reactor in his chest. He looked more relaxed now, no longer fighting his heat or trying to put on a mask.
“Okay, Romeo, you’ve got me.” Tony shifted, tugged, and his briefs, well, more panties than briefs, just fell away in fluttering scraps. With a deep breath, Tony also took his shirt off, exposing the circle of metal and lights, and the scars that pitted the flesh around it. This was far more Sam’s wheelhouse than Steve’s, helping omegas who had taken bad physical injuries, but Steve had been the one to go to the extra lengths necessary to get his high-level clearance, and all the pains that brought. But both of them had swapped what stories they could, within the constraints of their clients’ privacy, just in case. All knowledge was useful, and Steve was never adverse to learning.
Tony needed the best, with all that he’d been through. With great care for his cyborged chest, Steve murmured a quick question, got Tony’s affirmative, and sheathed himself slow inside Tony’s ready body. Tony mostly kept his eyes shut as their hips moved together in easy rhythm, occasionally stealing looks at Steve, but mostly concentrating on his own body. Instead of his hyperverbal razzle-dazzle, Ton was quiet except for a few soft comments. “Yeah.” “Harder.” “Slower.” “Fuck! Like that.” This felt very personal, like what Tony wanted when he was alone. Steve didn’t resent the relative isolation. Tony had been forced to live with his captors every moment of his captivity - to be alone in a safe space was the height of luxury right now
It touched Steve to see Tony letting himself go like that. When their climax came, it was Steve first, hands on Tony’s thighs, Tony’s hand on his own cock, encouraging himself to follow a few moments later. He squirmed down to take as much of Steve as he could with a sigh of satisfaction, and leaned forward to rest on Steve’s shoulder.
“Yeah, you’re all right,” Tony said into his skin.
“Even if I’m Steve Rogers?”
Tony laughed. “Can’t help that, Cap.”
Steve didn’t even bother to protest the nickname.
--
Four months later
“Steve? I think I’ve got a good problem for you,” Darcy said, flopping down across his and Sam’s laps on the sofa without so much as a by-your-leave. Sam reflexively held his drink up as she made her landing, then proceeded to use her knee as a coaster. Both of them ignored each other as Darcy talked to Steve.
“A good problem?” Steve asked, raising an eyebrow. Darcy nodded, tossing her hair back over her shoulder.
“You’ve got the top-secret agent clearance, right?”
“Um… more or less,” he said, knowing better than getting into battles of semantics with Darcy.
“Look, I’ve got my best girlfriend from college, fellow omega, got herself a boyfriend who’s just out of this world, and they need a little, you know, instruction,” she said, with some evocatively graphic gestures that had Sam snickering even as he supposedly looked straight ahead at the news on screen.
“…how did anyone who’s ever known you ever not know everything there was to know about the birds and the bees by the time they’d spent a week with you?” Steve asked.
Darcy laughed. “Jane’s not as high-drive as me-.”
“Nobody is,” Sam muttered, and she tried to kick him in the side. He ticked her feet in revenge. She squirmed enough to get him to nearly upset his drink, and he stopped.
“It’s her boyfriend. Super-nice guy, don’t get me wrong, he’s just a little different. Or a lot. But mostly in a good way? Anywho, you need some clearance or other to really get the deets, so that’s why I thought of you. You’ve done show-and-tells before, right?”
Sam guffawed outright, and Steve rubbed the back of his neck and tried not to blush. “Yes, a few times.”
“Aw, Stevie, don’t be shy! You’ve got a lot to show!”
Sam lost it, slamming his drink down on the table and howling into Darcy’s legs as she patted the top of Steve’s head.
At that point, Steve would have accepted her job suggestion no matter what, just to avoid having a repeat conversation at any point in time.
--
Steve wasn’t used to feeling small, not in a long time. Certainly he’d met guys, and some gals, who were bigger than him, but it was uncommon. To open a door and have to look up, even slightly, was a pleasant shock. Particularly because his work order had been for one Jane Foster, whom he’d FaceTimed not ten minutes ago.
“Ah, welcome. Come in! You are the alpha?”
The man was tall, broad, very nicely muscled under a thin robe, with a mane of long blond hair, a short beard, and million-watt smile.
“That’s me,” Steve said, offering a hand and having his own met and matched by the man’s calloused mitt. “Steve Rogers, from IPA.”
“I am Thor Odinsson, and my lady Jane would like me to conduct you to the bedroom,” he said, sweeping his arm in towards the depths of the house. Steve felt the sudden need to bow. Thor was so curiously formal even while not seeming to be. Up close, Thor smelled like a summer evening after a rainstorm, lightning still flickering. He had no scent otherwise, no musky alpha or rich omega or even the clean spring morning of a beta.
That bore out what Dr. Foster had told him over the secure line. He supposed he was used to a lot of oddity in his line of work, but a man from another world? That was new. At least that sounded somewhat better than “alien.” Even so, Jane and Thor had been together for nearly a year, and apparently intimate, so he couldn’t be so very different from human. Just different enough for her to request a little professional help that had apparently required someone with Steve’s clearance to handle.
Steve made a very brief detour to get out of his street clothes and into a working robe, then joined the two lovers in the bedroom. Jane Foster was in the early stages of heat by her scent, her temples damp, already clad in a silk robe as her body became more sensitive. She blushed when she saw him, and he just gave her a reassuring smile.
“Jane,” Thor said, urging Steve forward with a hand on his back, “this is Steve.”
He successfully restrained the urge to bow, and instead hugged her to share scent. Thor didn’t give any little signs of alpha territoriality, no little growls or excessive looming, no immediate counter-scenting. Mostly he seemed pleased that Steve was being kind, here to give Jane what she needed. Steve expected at least a frown; having someone else in your bedroom was usually awkward, unless that was your thing. Their relationship must had been ironclad. Thor just sat down on Jane’s other side and smiled when she took his hand.
“Jane already told me what you had communicated about. We have attempted a heat coupling once before,” Thor said, “And it was a bit… disastrous.”
“What about your couplings other times? Everything all right there?”
“Very!” Jane said quickly and enthusiastically. Thor grinned.
“Indeed, all sex outside of heat is delightful, but I would not see my lady unsatisfied and unhappy.”
“Could I get more details?” Steve asked delicately.
“I just couldn’t…” Jane made a few evocative gestures.
“Climax,” Thor supplied helpfully. “I attempted all she asked of me.”
“And more! But I just…” She sighed in frustration. “We did knot simulation as best we could but it still didn’t really work.”
“It seems I am slightly different than your alphas on this world.”
“I showed him some anatomy pictures and sex-ed lectures, and some, um, porn that wasn’t too inaccurate, but there’s not too many people I can talk to without SHIELD getting mad,” Jane said.
“Well…” Steve started, and Thor interrupted him.
“I shall show you,” Thor said, and casually opened his robe. Well. Wow. Jane was nodding proudly at Steve’s reaction. If Steve hadn’t been here professionally, and Thor wasn’t already attached… He mentally shook his head and took a closer look. Thor looked healthy, if very generously endowed, but his shaft was entirely smooth and straight, without the vestigial knot that even betas had while soft.
Steve nodded, trying to look businesslike, and opened his own robe, taking in Jane’s scent as he did so, and felt himself fill out. Thor looked at him thoughtfully, as Jane snuck looks a little more surreptitiously.
“May I?”
“Certainly.”
Thor held him loosely, exploring the slightly filled knot with intense curiosity. It wasn’t the hesitancy Steve had had with the few virgin clients he’d had, nor was it the deliberate titillation of a few who were laboring under the misconception that a professional alpha was the same as a sex worker, and had wanted to see him hot and bothered. There was a lot of overlap between the professions, but Steve was never being hired to fulfill a fantasy - he was there for medical and therapeutic reasons. Not that both professions didn’t swap a lot of notes, but they worked opposites sides of a very thin line. By law, sex workers were required to refuse clients in heat or rut, and professionals, unless educating, never were contracted with someone who wasn’t in heat or rut. People got unreasonable in heat and rut, and you had to be able to negotiate those demands with the same care a sex worker negotiated someone’s fantasies.
Thor however, just looked slightly scientific as he weighed and observed and measured.
“You are quite sensitive at the knot?” he asked.
“Very,” Steve said, and Thor moved his hand away. He took a few seconds to calm down, and saw that Jane was looking rather appreciative, in a somewhat detached, “Well, isn’t that interesting” sort of way. “It does get bigger and firmer closer to climax, then stays firm inside the omega from anywhere from fifteen minutes to an hour, depending on the couple in question. Some alphas soften earlier or later, some omegas stop clamping down earlier or later.”
“Ah. Then when I tried a similar effect with my fingers?” Thor asked, looking at Jane.
“Close!” Jane said quickly, and blushed. “But it was very awkward to hold in place.”
“All right, then. I might have a solution for that. Jane, what about alpha hormones? What’s your receptivity?”
“My doctor said I have a very low receptivity. That was extra useful in college when some people were strutting around like peacocks. It smells nice, but I don’t need it. A little alpha air freshener, and I’m good,” she said.
“Then I definitely have something to help.” Steve closed his robe regretfully. He might have liked to indulge him, her, or both, but that wasn’t what was needed here. Steve delved into a bag he’d brought with him, and came out with a case. He clicked it open to reveal a couple dozen orbs with holes in them, in colors ranging from various skin tones to bright rainbow shades. “Cock knots,” he explained. Jane made a little nod of recognition and her eyes widened with excitement. “You fit them over your own knot, or where it should be. Trans alphas use them, or people who want bigger knots or need them for their partners.” Thor grinned happily. Steve eyed Thor, then took out the blue one, which was reasonably proportioned for him, and was actually likely to fit the man’s equipment. Thor took it, looking it over, then flicked it open.
“Just fit it on near the base, right there! Perfect. It should stay until you unsnap it. Don’t wear it for more than three hours, and not when you’re not erect. And don’t use it for anal or oral sex, because that’s a tearing or choking hazard. Clean it with mild soap and water when you’re done. I’ve just cleaned these, so you are good to go.”
Jane looked very eager, and her scent was rising sharply. Steve stood, putting the case away. “I’ll see myself out?”
“Wait!” Jane said. “In case something… Will you stay in case we have other questions?”
“Indeed.” Thor waved Steve back to the chair next to the bed. Well, this wasn’t unheard of, but Steve hadn’t done it very often. He checked with both of them, and Jane nodded.
“Please!”
Steve settled his robe around himself and sat down, trying to look cool and collected. These two were incredibly sweet, but Darcy still owed him, big time. Despite this being part of his job, it was never less than awkward, for him if no one else.
Thor picked up Jane in a sweetly romantic move, setting her down on the bed and opening her robe with reverence, stopping often for kisses. Jane matched him move for move, taking every opportunity of a kiss to tug at his robe until he was just as naked as she. Her hands buried themselves in his hair as he moved down her body, and Thor took a long time to worship every part of her. When he reached the juncture of her thighs, Jane was tilting her hips up in an unsubtle hint, and Thor walked his fingers up her body to her mouth in response. She took them in enthusiastically, then suddenly looked at Steve and blushed furiously. He glanced away, angling his arm to hide his erection as much as possible (he was a professional alpha next to a very in-heat omega; normally everything south of the border was on the clock in similar circumstances, and the response was hard to shake), and she tried to regain her aplomb as she laved her tongue over Thor’s fingers to get them wet. He trailed them down her body again, and Jane cried out as he pushed them inside her, smiling at her reaction.
Thor pulled his hands back with reluctance, and went to push his cock into Jane, who was clearly more than ready. He paused, making Jane glare at both of them and whine in the back of her throat. Steve winced; she sounded like Darcy in a temper.
“I don’t wish to hurt you,” Thor said, one hand on his impressively-sized equipment, tenderly stroking her side with the other. And yes, under other circumstances Steve might have counseled some caution and longer foreplay, except if Jane was entirely happy with their sex life outside of heat, then she was about as delicate as tempered steel.
“I’ll be fine! Thor, please,” she said. Thor looked to Steve, his hot blue gaze carrying enough raw charisma to make Steve swallow and shift his hips. Not that Thor didn’t believe his girlfriend, but only that they’d failed in this endeavor before and this time he wanted this to be perfect. Steve knew that drive for perfection anywhere.
“Trust us, she’ll be great,” Steve said reassuringly.
Thor, bless him, didn’t hesitate long. “All at once, or slowly?” Jane growled in impatience.
“Slowly at first,” Steve recommended, and had Jane’s glare turned on him. He grimaced sympathetically. The glaring stopped when Thor’s low slow slide was capped off by careful push of the artificial knot inside her. She curled her arms and legs around him, every line of her claiming possession. Thor rocked inside the cradle of her thighs, working the knot inside her as Steve gave some evocatively graphic pantomimes as silent instruction. Or “sex charades” as Darcy called them.
Jane cried out finally as her body seized in pleasure long unsatisfied, holding on like she’d never let go.
“Thor, oh God, that was perfect.” She kissed him over and over. Thor looked simultaneously stunned and very satisfied with everything, and gave Steve a look of deep gratitude as he gathered up his lady to enjoy the closeness of her heat.
Steve decided, as he got dressed and showed himself out, that this had been one of his better clients after all.
But Darcy still owed him. Big time.
---------------
Chapter 3
Chapter 1
Master Post