Natalie – Natasha, Tony mentally corrected himself – walked into his office with a serene smile and the distinctive glow which meant that she’d probably had some lunchtime fun with Pepper. One single curl had escaped the perfect updo which swept her auburn hair out of her face, as much sex hair as Natasha was ever likely to have.
“I thought I locked that,” Tony said, not at all resentful that apparently everyone in this building was getting laid except for him.
“Your 1:00 is here,” Natasha said, pressing a manila folder onto the surface of Tony’s desk.
“I don’t take 1:00’s.” Tony said, his eyes flicking to and away from the folder disinterestedly.
“You’ll want to take this one.” Smiling, Natasha reached over Tony’s desk, causing him to scramble backwards in his chair, and pressed a button on his keyboard. A screen popped up on his desk, holographic like the interface he’d been tinkering with when Natasha so rudely barged in. This was a video feed of the waiting room on the executive floor.
It was empty except for one man, sitting in the corner with a magazine on his lap. When Tony zoomed in on the picture, shooting a suspicious glance at Natasha, he could see a few more details. The magazine was an issue of WIRED, flipped to the special they did on Stark Tower. The man wasn’t really reading it though, more staring off into space. He was pretty, with those big blue eyes and square jaw. His suit was obviously too small for him, pulling a little at the seams and stretched too tight around his bulging muscles.
Tony must have made the hungry noise he was thinking about because Natasha’s self-satisfied smile stretched wider.
“This is a trick,” he said weakly.
“Would you like me to send him in, Mr. Stark?” Natasha asked.
And because Tony had the self-control of a true hedonist and the self-preservation of … well, something without very much self-preservation he said, grudgingly, “Yes.”
As Natasha walked towards the door languidly, Tony hurriedly straightened his tie, tugged at the bottom of his suit and ran his hand over his hair. When she glanced back at him, he was lounging in the exact same position as before, a completely bored expression on his face. With a raised eyebrow that Tony knew meant Pepper would be hearing about this later, and in great detail, Natasha exited the room.
“Mr. Rogers?” her voice sounded muffled through his office walls. “Mr. Stark will see you now.”
The thing was, Tony wasn’t stupid. The opposite, in fact, he was too fucking smart for his own good. Too smart to play ball with SHIELD and too smart to think that this Rogers guy was any kind of social call. Fury probably sent him over to work his earnest, puppy-eyed magic on Tony.
It would be simple, Tony thought as Natasha led Rogers through the door. He’d string along this all-American boy for a little while, sneak in some sexual innuendos just to make him uncomfortable, and then put the nail in the coffin, so to speak. Fun stuff.
Tony watched with narrowed eyes as Rogers nodded politely to Natasha. They exchanged quick, familiar smiles, which suggested that they knew each other better than the acquaintances they seemed to want Tony to think they were. Up close, Rogers was even more attractive than he had appeared on camera, a touch of blonde stubble along his jaw, large square hands.
He also had a nice ass, not that Tony was particularly staring.
“Mr. Stark,” Natasha said, as they both stood before Tony’s desk. “May I introduce Steve Rogers? Or, if you prefer, Captain America.”
“How do you do?” Steve said, holding out his hand in a smooth motion.
Tony chuckled, looking at Natasha. “Ha. Try again, and this time throw in the Brooklyn Bridge for the low low price of $19.99.”
“Unless idioms have dramatically changed this half of the century,” Steve said, withdrawing his hand and standing to his full height, “I think you just called me a liar.”
“No,” Tony said, reluctantly impressed at how well Steve towered. Tony was almost intimidated. Intimidated and aroused. “I called Ms. Romonova here a liar.”
“Maybe sometimes,” Natasha said, “But I’m not lying about this.” She pointed to the file on the desk until Tony picked it up and opened it.
Black and white photos, military papers with censored personal information. A full bloodwork report. There was even a WWII picture with Howard and a bunch of military guys. Howard had his arm around a blonde hunk who, if Tony squinted, did look suspiciously like the glowering man in front of his desk.
Tony whistled low, because he knew when he was beat. “I’m not gonna ask how, but. How.” He threw up his hands before Natasha opened her mouth. “Okay, okay, super secret spy secrets which I’ll have to hack on my own, but.” He jumped out of his chair, yanking out the bottom drawer of his desk and grabbing a well-worn action figure. “One final test,” Tony said, walking to the other side of the desk and holding it by Steve’s face. Then he turned it over and compared the back to Steve’s butt.
“Do I meet your rigorous scientific tests?” Steve said dryly, taking the figure out of Tony’s hand and examining it.
“Well, you know,” Tony leaned backwards on his desk, heart pounding in his chest and trying not to show it because Captain fucking America, but also realizing that this was at least 200% more nefarious. Fury wouldn’t pull out the ol’ Star Spangled Man just for Tony’s fanboying purposes.
Not that he fanboyed.
“You know, they gave me a new costume,” Steve said conversationally, walking forward and placing the action figure gently on Tony’s desk. “They tell me it’s very modern.”
“SHEILD?” Tony snorted. “SHEILD thinks Kevlar and spandex is modern. Ask Natasha what they make her wear-“ he looked around the room. “Natasha?” True to her superspy capabilities, she seemed to have disappeared into thin air during the discussion.
Steve, on the other hand, didn’t have any ninja in him at all. As he walked forward, Tony could feel his every step, like the room was shaking under his weight, or maybe that was just Tony’s dick, taking notice that a good-looking guy was invading his personal space and hello.
“What would you suggest?” Steve asked, smile as sweet as apple pie. His arms were behind his back, stretching his already-tight shirt over his pecs, and Tony could definitely see the lickable golden skin peeking through the gaps between Steve’s buttons.
“Aramid fiber.” Tony blurted out, “Ballistic-proof fabric coated with nano-particles. Distributes impact over a wider area than Kevlar, and can be impregnated with heart rate, motion and heat sensors.”
A thin line formed between Steve’s perfect eyebrows. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to write that down for me, Mr. Stark.”
The brief reminder of the name he associated with his father was enough to make Tony scowl, edging away from tall arousing guy and going to stand by the bookshelf where he kept his liquor. “Or not. What did Fury send you down here for?” He poured himself a tumbler of bourbon and sipped it as he watched Steve suspiciously from over the rim of his glass. “Be aware that your friend Agent Romanov has officially shattered my faith in humanity and possibly my ability to trust anyone ever again.”
With an amused huff, Steve sank down into a chair. “I’ll give it to you straight, then, Mr. Stark. I’m here to convince you to sign a contract with SHIELD.”
“Knew it,” Tony muttered into his bourbon.
“Isn’t it a little early for that kind of behavior?” Steve leaned back in the chair, resting his elbows on the armrests.
“You’re not gonna get me to sign by judging me, Judgey McJudgerson.” Tony wagged his finger, walking back to his side of the desk. He remained standing, enjoying his height over Steve, who looked up at him with a blank, patient stare.
“Would I sway your opinion if I told you the good you could accomplish? All the people you could help?”
“That’s what they told me the first time around,” Tony said darkly, swirling his glass with a tinkle of ice.
“No weapons,” Steve said, “The contract is clear.”
“No?” Tony asked, leaning a hip on the desk and looking Steve dead in the eye. “I could give them a cellphone and they could take it apart to make a more advanced bomb. I give them a plane and they’ll equip it with nuclear missiles.” He threw up his hand, “I could make you a sexy Captain America costume and they’ll probably find some way to kill people with it!”
Instead of looking angry like Tony expected, Steve’s face broke into a rueful smile. “Don’t trust Fury either, huh? You’re just as smart as they say you are.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere.” Tony said, ignoring the flush of heat at the back of his neck. This had been a pretty surreal day and his glass was now empty. As he walked around the desk to refill it, he found his path blocked by Steve.
Slowly taking the glass out of Tony’s hand, Steve looked him in the eye as he placed it on the desk. “You don’t have to trust Fury. Trust me.”
They were almost pressed chest to chest. Tony had to crane his neck to look up at Steve, which should have been annoying, but mostly meant that his gaze kept getting caught on Steve’s soft-looking pink lips. “And why should I do that?” Tony tried for bravado, but his voice totally broke.
“Because I’m Captain America,” Steve said, dimpling. He didn’t walk Tony back into the bookcase, didn’t trap him against the wall, just put his hands lightly on Tony’s elbows, a light touch. Distantly, Tony wondered if Steve had gotten a file on him too, specifying the triggers of his PTSD, exactly what to do to push his buttons. “And because I’ve been given full authorization to get your signature.”
“Does that mean what I think it means?” Tony said darkly, because two could play at this game. He closed that gap between them, pressing his erection daringly against Steve’s hip and plastering himself all along Steve’s front. Because fuck this gay chicken bullshit, if Steve was going to punch him, this was the time to do it. But no more teasing, and no more lies.
Tony might have been more bitter about the Natasha thing than he previously thought.
Steve just looked surprised for a minute, his eyes widening and a splotchy pink color breaking out across his cheekbones. What did you know? Captain America did not blush pretty. Tony found this stomach-churningly adorable. “Yeah,” Steve said quietly. “I think so.”
With a short laugh, Tony threaded his fingers through Steve’s hair and pulled him down for a kiss. It was rough, because he didn’t know how to be anything else at this moment, chasing Steve’s tongue and nipping cruelly at his lips.
Groaning, Steve opened his mouth under Tony’s grabbing at Tony’s hips with his big hands. There was strength in that iron grip, strength that Tony could feel through his rumpled suit. He wanted that body under him, wanted to own it, mark it - wreck this pretty boy and his bruised pink lips.
“What do you want?” Tony asked, pressing the heel of his hand against Steve’s erection.
“Shouldn’t I be … asking that question?” Steve panted, his hips jerking forward to ride the curve of Tony’s palm until he took it away.
“Go ahead,” Tony made short work of Steve’s belt, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. “Make me feel more like a John.”
“The implications are not very flattering for me either,” Steve said, face still bright red as he watched Tony sink down to his knees.
“I just can’t get over-“ Tony’s eyes widened as he drew Steve’s cock out of his navy-blue briefs. “Wow. God bless America.”
Steve just made a strangled sound as Tony began lapping at the head of his cock, tongue flicking over sensitive glans and the pulsing slit at the top. It had been a while since Tony did this for anyone – the light strain in his knees certainly reminded him that he wasn’t young and inexhaustible anymore – but if anyone deserved worshipping, it was Captain Fucking America.
He began sucking slowly, enjoying the weight on his tongue and the musk that filled his nose as he glanced up at Steve through his eyelashes. Steve’s mouth had fallen open, red and slick as he panted for air. His blush had reached his ears and his hands were curled into fists at his sides.
A bolt of arousal shuddered through Tony’s body. Suddenly, he could feel his own cock pulsing in his pants, pressing painfully against the zipper. With a groan, Tony palmed himself through the cloth, taking more of Steve into his mouth and sucking harder.
Involuntarily, Steve gave a little buck of his hips, slamming his cock into the back of Tony’s throat. Tony had to pull away, coughing.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Steve fell to his knees, apologetic.
“Don’t worry about it,” Tony said, but didn’t push away Steve’s hands as they patted his hair and drew him forward for a kiss.
This time, Steve’s mouth opened for Tony’s with a low groan, sucking and clinging like he was desperate. Tony wondered if Steve could taste himself in Tony’s mouth, if that made him hotter. Steve’s naked cock, slick with drying saliva, ground against the cut of Tony’s hip. With a whine, Steve grabbed Tony’s ass and began rubbing himself off on Tony’s pants in an unsteady rhythm.
“Let’s take this to the couch,” Tony said, because you’re making my knees weak sounded too cheesy, and would probably make Steve look at him with that soft expression again. Or maybe not. Tony reminded himself that this Steve was a professional, after all.
He didn’t look like it, though, at this moment, almost tripping over the pants and underwear which had tangled at his ankles, unbuttoning his shirt with a graceless eagerness. His face, when he sat down on the black leather seat, showed nothing but open hunger.
Maybe that was calculated, too. Tony fell forward, let Steve catch him, and decided to take what he had to offer.
Steve had already been half-bursting out of his shirt when he walked through the door, Tony just finished the job, tearing the front open and scattering buttons across the office.
“That was half of the clothes I own,” Steve laughed into Tony’s mouth.
“Stick with me, kid, and it’s bulletproof nano-tech stretch fiber from here on out,” Tony purred, gripping Steve’s knee and pulling roughly. Tony wouldn’t delude himself into thinking that he could physically manipulate Steve into any configuration Steve didn’t want to be in, but he was malleable to the touch as Tony manhandled him onto his stomach.
The expensive black leather was a gorgeous contrast to Steve’s flushed skin, peaches and cream and a smatter of freckles on his lower back. The swell of his ass was pure art. Tony could build architecture in honor of that sweet, sweet curve. With a hiss, Tony unzipped himself from his pants, finally taking his cock in hand. It was hot to the touch, pulsing under his fingers. He moaned luxuriously as he stroked himself, looking at the dark cleft between Steve’s cheeks, his drawn-up balls and the desperate erection dripping precome on the leather.
“Tony,” Steve groaned, twisting around and trying to see what Tony was doing behind him. One of Steve’s hands tried to sneak down and touch his own cock, but Tony grabbed his wrist first.
“Not under your purview, Cap,” Tony said, using the hand not restraining Steve to slowly tug off his tie. At the first touch of silk to wrist, Steve’s body stiffened and for a second Tony thought that he had gone too far. But then Steve bucked back against Tony’s cock, dragging a startled groan out of him.
“Maybe you should make your expectations a little clearer, Mr. Stark,” Steve’s face was mashed into the corner of the couch, but Tony could still tell he was smirking.
More roughly than he intended, Tony jerked back Steve’s other arm and bound them both together at the wrist with his tie, pressing the end it into Steve’s palm before drawing back and smacking him, hard, on the ass.
“I don’t tolerate insubordination from my employees,” Tony said darkly, which was a total lie re: Pepper and Happy and Natasha, but Steve didn’t need to know about that.
“Who said I was your employee?” Steve asked, releasing a little gasp as he was spanked again.
“Oh?” Tony asked, running a light fingertip along the length of Steve’s painful-looking erection. Like stalwart little soldier, though, Steve kept his silence. “I thought Fury made it very clear that your position was … under me.” He rubbed his cock against Steve’s cleft, for emphasis.
“Oh man,” Steve said in a strangled voice. “Terrible puns.”
“You have no idea what you got yourself into,” Tony said seriously. He smacked Steve two more times, just to see the red bloom and fade on his skin. The scientist in Tony wanted to make an experiment of it, see how fast the serum healed under a paddle, a flogger, a switch …
Steve twisted around until he was looking over his shoulder at Tony. “Did you just tie me up so you could stare me into coming?”
“Just appreciating a fine work of art,” Tony drawled, palming Steve’s ass and spreading it with one thumb. Steve’s hole twitched at the attention, clenching when Tony pressed the pad of his thumb against it. “I wonder how many politicians and CEOs SHIELD owns because of this ass.”
Steve made a strangled noise, muffled by the cushions. “Are you going to fuck me, or what?”
“Oh yeah, most definitely going to do that.” Tony murmured, giving Steve’s ass a last pat as he climbed off the couch. He practically sprinted to his desk, aching for the heat of Steve’s skin as he grabbed a tube of lubricant and a box of condoms from the bottom drawer.
Steve burst out laughing when he saw what Tony came back with. “You entertain often in your office, Mr. Stark?”
“Jealous?” Tony popped off the lube cap and accidently squirted it all over his fingers, prompting another round of laughter. Climbing onto the couch, Tony wiped his lube-covered hand dry on his expensive pants. The expanse of Steve’s back was hypnotizing, the twitch of muscles that responded to his laughter.
Slowly, Steve quieted, peeking over his shoulder at Tony’s face. “What’re you waiting for, now? Cold feet?”
“You’re gorgeous, you know that?” Tony said, because he could be truthful when he wanted to, and it didn’t hurt. It would probably hurt, later on. He pressed a slick finger to Steve’s hole, rubbing briefly before pushing forward, through the ring of clenching muscle.
Steve released a soft sound, arching his back like a pro. His movements were jerky and unbalanced, however. A natural amateur or a very talented professional, Tony just couldn’t figure out. He added another finger, scissoring them in slow, careful movements, like he would’ve done for a virgin.
When Tony twisted his knuckle inside, Steve released a surprised shout. “Oh there?” Tony murmured, pressing against Steve’s prostate with the pads of two fingers as Steve’s moans raised pitch into one, continuous whine. Groping under Steve’s body, Tony got a hand around Steve’s cock, which was spurting precome so much it dripped over his fingers.
“Your cock-“ Steve was thrusting back against Tony’s fingers in earnest now, knuckles turning white where his fingers were curled over the tie. “Tony, please.”
All the witty replies had flown out of Tony’s head at the sound of his name on Steve’s lips. Working as quickly as he could with one un-lubed hand and his teeth, Tony tore open the condom wrapper and rolled it quickly onto his cock, giving himself a stroke of lube as an afterthought.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Yes,” Steve breathed, “Please.”
Then finally, finally Tony sank into the searing heat of Steve’s body, his ass almost painfully tight until Tony fucking into it with short, shallow thrusts. Steve moaned loudly as Tony opened him up, made his body jerk and seize with pleasure, toes curling into the leather armrest.
“You have - ah - an … admirable work ethic, Captain … Captain Rogers.”
“Always up for a c-challenge,” Steve began pushing back against Tony’s thrusts. “Harder, Tony, I can take it.”
A short laugh. “I’ll bet,” Tony said, digging his fingers into Steve’s hips, leaving bruises that won’t be there tomorrow, no matter how badly Tony might have wanted it. He drew back until only his cockhead was penetrating Steve’s ass and slammed forward in the same motion, making both of them groan.
The couch wobbled under them as Tony fucked Steve savagely, pulling at his hair and leaving bite marks on his biceps. Steve didn’t stop moaning as he took it, opening his legs eagerly as Tony reached under and started jacking his cock.
Another time, maybe, Tony would’ve teased, wrung out some more of those pretty little pleas from Steve’s lips, but he was too close himself, and it would have been humiliating to come before Steve. Instead, Tony pulled out every trick in the book, twisting his wrist on the up-stroke, riding Steve’s prostate until he came with a choked sound, soiling the leather.
With a few more thrusts, Tony let himself go, spilling into Steve’s ass as a shudder ran through his entire body.
“You wanna untie me?” Steve asked, after they both had caught their breath.
“No, not really,” Tony said truthfully, but he unknotted the tie and helped Steve to a sitting position, rubbing the blood back into his wrists and stealing kisses.
“Did you like that?” Steve asked, smiling, “Pretending that I was whoring myself on the behalf of Fury?”
Tony laughed, cuddling him briefly on the couch, even though their legs were too long for this to really be comfortable. “Admit it, you thought it was fun too. Old married people like us gotta find some way to bring the spark back into the bedroom.”
“I don’t even want to know what you had to promise Natasha for her to play that part. I thought she would’ve stabbed you in hurtful places the second she found out what you fetishize she does for a living,” Steve said drolly, wiping himself up with tissues, the leather couch squeaking as he sat up.
“I didn’t intend my roleplaying to be commentary that SHIELD agents were slutty,” Tony zipped himself back into his pants. “Just that you were a slutty SHIELD agent. I mean, I didn’t think that you had a lack of respect for law enforcement when you asked me to dress up like sexy cop and fuck you with my-“
“Okay, okay.” Steve was blushing again, splotchy and adorable. Tony couldn’t help but to lean in and press a kiss against the hot curve of his jaw.
“Now let’s bounce,” Tony said, pulling on his tie, which was now rumpled and stained with semen and sweat. “Pepper’s gonna stab me in hurtful places when she comes back from lunch and finds what I did to her office.”