Steve Rogers had his own washing machine - a dryer, too - back at his apartment in DC, up until SHIELD rolled in and stripped the place bare of all of Steve’s personal effects while he was Public Enemy No. 1, leaving the poor guy to start all over … again.
Tony offered to install a washer and dryer in Steve’s newly occupied apartment in Avengers Tower - even though he’d overlooked that supposed creature comfort in the expectation that everyone else living there would just use the laundry service like a normal person - after Steve inquired about the absence, but Steve politely declined, leaving Tony to wonder how in the hell the guy was going to get clean laundry.
It was somewhere like six months down the road that they started sleeping together, and Tony had put all thoughts of it out of his mind because, well, he had a lot better things to worry about. The matter didn’t spring to mind again until Steve changed the sheets one afternoon after they had sex and, in the wee hours later that night, Tony woke to see Steve creeping out of the bedroom with a laundry bag under his arm, like some kind of domestic vigilante.
Tony, his curiosity piqued, got out of bed and followed him … at a distance. If Steve knew he was being stalked, he didn’t let on, as he took a service elevator out of Avengers Tower, emerged onto the street, and proceeded to walk several blocks.
Tony was exhausted and his feet hurt (he’d only worn a pair of flip-flops down to Steve’s apartment earlier) by the time he paused on a street corner to watch Steve enter the glow of an all-night laundromat.
Cursing to himself and vowing to install a laundromat in the Tower, Tony jogged across the street and stopped outside the door, distracted and admiring the view as Steve bent down to stuff his laundry into one of the machines. Well.
Feeling like a creeper and really hoping that Steve wouldn’t take it the wrong way, Tony decided to walk inside, figuring that he’d come all this way and it was pointless to go back by himself. Maybe he could talk Steve into a cab, or call Happy around with a car.
"Hey, baby," Tony said, propping his hip against a washing machine and trying not to sound as out of breath as he felt. "Come here often?"
Steve actually startled at the voice, and as he turned to see Tony standing there, he looked really hilarious, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar or something. (Tony had a lot of experience being that kid, though, and he didn’t think embarrassment or shame was ever anything he wore under the circumstances, so … maybe his assessment was off.)
"Uhhh. Tony," Steve said. "What are you doing here?"
Tony waved offhandedly. “I got cold, woke up, needed to pee, just a coincidence, I’m here to wash my hoodie, totally didn’t stalk you here at all, are you buying any of this?”
Steve raised an eyebrow in response.
"Right. Well," Tony said. "I saw you sneaking out like the Ajax Bandit and -"
"That’s toilet cleaner."
"Ajax is toilet cleaner," Steve said patiently.
Tony flapped a hand dismissively. “Whatever. You know, I offered to install a washer and dryer for you.”
Steve shrugged, and turned back to his task, feeding quarters into the machine. “I don’t mind doing it myself. It’s … soothing.”
"Hmm." Tony walked over to stand beside him, trying to project understanding and not judgment before he admitted, "Okay. I’m not going to pretend I understand."
Fortunately, Steve didn’t hold it against him. They were grown men who knew they came from different worlds, and Tony had long since come to realize that Steve would always consider what Tony thought of as normal to be excess, and Tony would think of Steve as frugal, practical, overly cautious, if he was being generous.
"Also," Steve added, his tone taking on a pointed edge, "I kind of like being alone, sometimes."
Tony blinked. “Well, I didn’t think you just woke up at … 3 am, with a burning need to wash your linens, Steven.” He waved at the door. “I can go.”
Steve looked at Tony for a long moment, then shook his head. “No, it’s okay. You’re here now. Did you really get cold without me?”
Tony glanced shiftily away. “Maybe.”
"Well," Steve said, wrapping his arms around Tony’s waist, "I think I can fix that."
Tony tilted his head back and Steve leaned forward, and they were kissing right in the middle of … well, an empty laundromat, so Tony wasn’t inclined to care. He did give a little yelp when Steve lifted him up and set him on top of the washing machine, and wasn’t that an interesting vibration.
Steve settled between Tony’s parted knees, his hands coming to rest on Tony’s thighs, and, well, they just happened to be of a height this way. Tony reached right past the waistband of Steve’s sweats, because he’d be damned if he was going to be the only one with a somewhat inappropriate erection right now, only to find that, actually, Steve was on the same page and probably had been for a few moments now.
Steve had his back to the door and Tony was feeling daring - it was three in the morning after all, who was actually going to catch them? - so he freed Steve’s cock from his pants (delighting in the fact Steve was going commando; God bless laundry day) and gave him a healthy stroke, from base to tip.
"Tony -" Steve gasped, but he didn’t seem inclined to say they should stop, so Tony kept right on going, until Steve was thrusting back into his hand, making desperate and needy little sounds into the quick kisses they kept exchanging.
Tony scooted forward and Steve eagerly moved to return the favor, then Tony’s erection was free before he really knew what was happening, and they were rocking against each other, the vibration from the washing machine actually making things all that much more intense, and Tony swore he was never going to admit that thought to anyone -
Steve came first, with a muffled little noise as he spilled over their hands, and dear lord but Tony loved bringing Steve off, he was definitely the kind of guy who got off from his lover getting off, so it was a matter of seconds before Tony joined him, burying his face against Steve’s shoulder to keep from being too loud.
Steve sagged forward a little and, after a long moment, remembered himself and straightened. He was considerate, tucking Tony back into his jeans - most of the mess was on their hands, anyway - before he pulled up his own sweats, then he grabbed a towel from his dirty laundry to wipe their hands clean.
"… I can’t believe we just did that," he said after a moment.
Tony grinned at him like the cat who ate the canary. “I can.”
Steve shook his head. “This is a public place, Tony.”
"And exactly no one walked in," Tony said, rolling his eyes. "The security camera over there in the corner might be a problem, but it’s okay - what is that, tech from the 90’s? It’s not even digital, I could disassemble that in my sleep.”
“What,” Steve choked out.
"What? We can have a memento for later." Tony grinned back at Steve, grabbing a screwdriver (what? he always had one) from his pocket as he headed that way. "Now give me a boost."