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Tony doesn't ever stop talking.

It's kind of become a fact of life for Jim these days. The brass will always manage to do at least one thing per week that will seem completely incomprehensible, Jim's trainees will get younger every year, and Tony Stark does not ever, under any circumstances, shut the fuck up. By now, Jim's given up even trying, especially after that one really disastrous time with the gag and the bottle of Champagne and the sofa in Tony's private jet.

"You know, Rhodey," Tony says as Jim tightens the straps around his wrists, "if this whole military thing doesn't work out for you, you could have quite the career doing this full time."

Jim rolls his eyes, because this is what Tony does when he wants something, he pushes and pushes and pushes until the other person gives in out of sheer annoyance or sheer frustration or both. The first time they ended up sleeping together, Tony had spent half an hour making fun of Jim's orange socks before Jim shoved him up against a wall and attempted to kiss him stupid. It hadn't exactly worked that way, and the next twenty years were just downhill from there.

"You do know that prostitution is still illegal in the State of California, right?" Jim says, giving a little tug on the strap around Tony's left wrist, checking the tension. The black leather looks good against Tony's skin, dark against Tony's California tan.

"Yeah," Tony says, "but that only counts if you get caught." He grins, lightening quick, and Jim resists the urge to just leave him there. He tried that once, way back in the early 00's. All he got in return were increasingly obscene care packages filled with some truly dubious porn (Pterodactyls, really?) and sex toys shaped like barnyard animals.

"That's not the point, Tony," Jim says. He steps back to admire his work. Tony's wrists are held above his head against the mattress. Tony's legs are sprawled, unconcerned, over the pale white sheets. Tony's body is completely naked. Tony's eyes are fixed on the ceiling instead of on Jim. Perfect.

Tony starts to respond with a, "No, the point is..." before he yelps as Jim sucks Tony's half-hard cock into his mouth. Tony's entire body goes rigid, muscles tightening as Jim presses his tongue against the underside. For some reason, that trick works every time.

But the silence is short-lived. "You're a big cheater," Tony whines, his breath coming in short bursts. His cock is fully hard now, the head pressing against Jim's palate, and Jim makes sure to go as far down as he can, a few tricks he's learned with some practice. Tony continues, "A big cheating cheater who cheats."

Jim just pins Tony's hips to the mattress with his hands, enjoying the feeling of his mouth being stretched open, of being filled. He pulls back, flicks his tongue against the slit at the tip of Tony's cock, and enjoys the low groan that pulls out of Tony's throat.

Tony tries to wrap a leg around Jim's ribs in order to keep Jim in place, but Jim just shrugs it off and coats two fingers with lube. Tony says, "Do your superior, fuck, officers know how much of a horrible person you are?" And Jim takes that as a cue to stick a finger up Tony's ass.

This doesn't shut Tony up either, but he does let out a whimper, a tiny thing at the back of his throat. Then he starts talking again. "Really, Rhodey," he says, gasping, "there could be big bucks in--" as Jim presses another finger in.

Jim pulls his head back before Tony can finish that sentence. "Please don't tell me you're about to make a penis joke." He adds in a twist of his fingers to punctuate his statement.

"Well, I wasn't, but now that you mention it--" Tony's breathing hard now, eyes beginning to glaze over. As Jim pulls his fingers out, Tony does a full-body squirm, yanking hard on the straps around his wrists. Way back when, right after Rhodey had first moved off campus, a move like that would make Jim's bed rattle, and he'd probably get a few complaints from his downstairs neighbors the next day. But now they're in Tony's ridiculously expensive bed which has been designed to ensure that it doesn't rattle at all, and besides, there aren't any downstairs neighbors anymore. Unless you count JARVIS, which Jim doesn't. Really, really doesn't.

"C'mon, Rhodey," Tony says, wriggling in a way that only manages to get his legs more tangled up in the sheets. "Will you just fuck me already?"

Jim just steps back, raises an eyebrow. "I had hoped we'd reached the point in our relationship where you could ask me for things nicely, Tony." He runs his knuckles over Tony's balls, just enough pressure to tease, but not enough to give Tony anything he wants.

"Pure evil," Tony says, panting.

"Yeah," Jim says. "Maybe I should give Pepper a call. She's good at getting you to do stuff, right?"

Tony's face takes on that desperate look he sometimes gets when he needs Jim to run interference between him and some of his exes at a public event. Tony wrenches his head upright to look Jim in the eye. "You wouldn't," he says.

Jim just smirks at him. "I kind of like the idea of watching her make you behave," he says.

Tony's dick twitches, but his expression turns thoughtful. Yeah, only Tony Stark would be able to design nuclear weapons with an erection like that. "This isn't about that whole thing where I programmed your armor to play 'Never Gonna Give You Up' every time you booted it up, is it?"

Just for that reminder, Jim twists Tony's balls. Hard. He had to give up two of his weekends to remove that programming. "Not really, no," he says. Tony's eyes fall closed. he goes back to squirming again, looking so desperate and needy for some friction, any friction, that Jim is almost willing to step up the timetable on his plan and just jack him off. Afterwards, Tony will be all limp and strung out and grumpy, and Jim can leave him there until he's willing to play nice again. Jim's always liked being one of the few people who won't automatically give Tony what he wants. He folds his arms across his chest. "Didn't anyone teach you any manners, Tony?" he asks, trying to get things back on track.

A quick, shit-eating grin crosses Tony's face. "Yeah, but I've forgotten them already."

That earns him another twist, hard enough that Tony really feels it that time. "C'mon, Tony," Jim says. "You know what I want." He bites down on Tony's right nipple, flicking his tongue over the tip. They've played this game so long they know the words by heart, but Tony always needs to resist just that much before he's willing to give in.

When Jim bites down harder, just enough to make it really hurt, he can see everything change on Tony's face, getting that glazed look that means that he's too turned on to make complete sentences. Tony has always gotten off on how much he deserves pain. "Rho-dey," Tony whines, high and drawn out.

Jim leans in close to his ear and says, "Ask nicely, Tony." He stays just out of reach, and Tony makes a frustrated noise at the back of his throat.

"C'mon," he says, and his squirming just becomes more frantic and just that much more futile.

"Nicely," Jim repeats. He reaches down and gives Tony's cock a tight squeeze before letting go, just a reminder of what he could have if he just does what Jim wants.

And that's all it takes. "Please," Tony blurts out, his eyes going more unfocused. "Jesus fuck, Rhodey, please." Jim kisses Tony's mouth again, drinking in all of Tony's curses, all of Tony's pleas, because even kissing won't stop Tony from running his mouth when he's on a roll. When he pulls back, Tony's mouth is hanging open, his bottom lip shiny with saliva. "C'mon, please," he says. "Jesus, Rhodey, please." He looks so so good like this, stripped of his jackass exterior so that all that's left is Tony, whatever it is about him that keeps Jim around no matter what other ridiculous shit Tony's decided to pull.

"Yeah," Jim says, "yeah." He gives in, covering Tony's body with his own, skin against skin. He presses his lips against Tony's neck so that he can almost taste the rapid, fluttery beat of Tony's pulse. He gives it a little nip to make Tony shiver.

Tony's eyes are squeezed shut, but his mouth is still going, "Please, please, please. Rhodey, c'mon." Tony's hips snap up, rubbing their erections together, and Jim hisses between his teeth. It would be so easy to finish it like this, just rubbing off against the rough hairs of Tony's belly, his nose tucked into the curve of Tony's neck.

But then again, Tony's been asking so nicely that Jim would feel bad about denying him this.

Jim manages to fumble on a condom. His own arousal, which has been simmering under the surface for a while now, has begun to make itself known again. Tony's been ready for a while, so he presses in with a smooth, steady thrust, and it feels good; it feels fucking fantastic.

"C'mon, Rhodey, please, fuck me, just," Tony says, the words falling out of his lips in a steady stream, and it's really entirely too hot, so Jim holds onto Tony's hips and fucks him hard, fucks him until his words become incoherent noises, just a string of whimpers and grunts and groans.

Tony comes first, comes after Jim wraps a hand around his dick and gives one hard pull, spilling all over his stomach and Jim's fingers and Jim's chest, and Jim follows a moments later. He collapses onto the bed next to Tony, sliding the condom off and chucking it into the trash can Tony keeps next the bed for just this reason.

"So that was fun," Tony says, smirking, and just like that, he's back to his normal jackass self. Jim has always been amazed by how quickly it comes back.

"You don't ever shut the fuck up, do you?" Jim says, which is more of a mumble into the pillow than something he meant to say out loud. He sleepily undoes the straps at Tony's wrists, going mostly by memory, by habit. Jim's got this whole routine down.

"Nope," Tony says, rolling his shoulders to get the kinks out. There's a mellow, post-orgasmic smile curling at the edge of his lips. "But admit it, Rhodey. You like me better that way."

"Tony," Jim says.

"What?" Tony's snuggling in closer to Jim's body, a hand curled around Jim's hip, an ankle wrapped around Jim's calf.

"Shut up," Jim says, closing his eyes, because he wants to get some sleep.

And much to his surprise, Tony does.

 

FIN.