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Tony, Iron Man

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    Captain America Caught Cheating

    Tony squints at the blurred picture of him and Steve, trying to figure out if it had been Photoshopped. They were pressed up against a wall in the parking lot, Tony’s leg was hiked up against Steve’s thigh, looking like he was trying to climb him like a tree.

    He didn’t remember that restaurant though.

    “Two weeks ago,” Steve replies from his lounge chair before Tony can ask, “Double date with Reed and Sue.”

    “What.”

    “You agreed enthusiastically.”

    Tony squints at the man lying flat on his stomach, trying valiantly not to be distracted by the enticing expanse of muscle.

    “I wasn’t wearing pants that day either,” Steve hums, grinning.

    “That explains that.”

    Captain America & Iron Man: Avengers Leaders Split

    Tony smirks at the infamous picture of Iron Man and Captain America, ignoring the vivid line down the middle. It's the first one to have gone viral, prompting rumors neither had bothered to correct. It’s not a kiss, anything but.

    Steve had been thrown hard against his faceplate, clipping his lip hard enough to bleed and had pulled away, pushing off the armor, swearing harshly. It almost had Tony blushing.

    "Aw, our first kiss," Tony says and Steve grunts, stretching like a cat in the sun.

    Avengers Exclusive: Tony Stark & Captain America’s Torrid Affair.

    Looks like it does pay to cheat.

    Captain America (Steve Rogers) has reportedly left his teammate and boyfriend for the bank behind the Avengers. Tony Stark, worth almost $1 billion–

    “They are severely underestimating what I’m worth,” Tony hisses, scandalized, “Almost a billion. Almost a billion–”

    "Then stop going through them," Steve hums, only half listening to Tony’s quietly muttered complaints, too busy enjoying the feel of the sun against his backside.

    He grunts when Tony nudges him, lifting the hand not pressed flat against the floor to swat the billionaire away.

    It had taken him twenty minutes to completely relax on Tony’s ridiculously luxurious lounge chair, trying to figure out how to not feel like he was going to fall through and wake up to mud and a roar like thunder.

    He’s not too eager to give it up.

    But as with anything else, Tony is relentless, prodding him again with a rolled up magazine. Steve opens one eye crankily, squinting in order to make out Tony’s wicked grin against the backdrop of the sun.

    “I am very comfortable right now,” Steve warns and the billionaire pouts at him.

    “It doesn’t bother you at all that I’m your dirty little secret?” he asks, faking petulance and Steve barely resists the urge to roll his eyes.

    “Well, Iron Man this is Tony Stark. Tony Stark, Iron Man,” Steve mumbles, making a vague short gesture from the suitcase armor on the table between them to Tony.

    “I’m sorry Iron Man,” he says blandly, “But I’m leaving you. For obvious reasons.”

    Steve gestures at Tony, dragging his gaze slowly over him. It’s a much nicer body than the armor, all tanned skin and work-hardened muscle that peek out just the right amount beneath a red silk robe on the right side of short. 

    Tony preens, the tips of his ears going faintly pink. Steve makes a quiet noise, committing the image to memory before closing his eyes again.

    He’s allowed a brief moment of peace, of hearing nothing but the break of waves before it’s broken by the sound of Tony shuffling.

    He braces himself instinctively, huffing a sigh when a weight settles across his lower back. Immediately, he lifts the hand he’s pressed against the ground, forsaking the anchor for another as he reaches back to circle his hand lightly around Tony’s ankle.

    “Well, Captain. It must have been so hard being with Iron Man,” Tony breathes against the back of his neck. Steve tilts his head obligingly, smiling faintly when Tony mouths gently there.

    His voice goes soft and breathy, reminding Steve of the USO girls, “No emotion, no identities just that cold frightening mask; I bet all you talk about is work, don’t you sweetie.”

    “Have you been digging through Clint’s soap opera stash again?”

    “Shh, we’re having a moment.”

    “You’re not my dirty little secret.”

    “Yeah but–”

    “No.”

    Tony huffs against the back of Steve’s neck, breathing gently over the wet patch until Steve shivers. He slides his lips downwards, pressing open mouthed kisses down Steve’s spine, trailing lower.

    “Could I be your sugar daddy?”

    Steve sighs loudly, hand sliding up Tony’s ankle to hold his thigh as he rolls over onto his back. He tries not to grin when Tony’s eyes slide up his body, lingering on his uncovered groin.

    “We are not encouraging this Tony,” he says, going for stern. It’s difficult when Tony’s staring down at him like that, even more so when Tony’s hands start marking small circles on his stomach.

    “Have I shown my appreciation for this whole nakedness thing you have going on?” Tony asks in blatant attempt to change the subject and Steve frowns at him, the scowl coming easier now.

    “We’re not encouraging this,” he says again, squeezing Tony’s thigh for emphasis and Tony pouts at him. He rocks backwards, smirking when Steve hisses, hands tightening around the billionaire’s thighs.

    “I can be very encouraging,” Tony breathes and Steve falters at the voice. It’s really not fair when Tony can do that with his voice.

    Recovering quickly, Steve lifts him up just enough to ease the pressure, holding Tony just slightly off him with little to no effort. The billionaire squirms in his grip for a moment before sighing and giving up.

    “We could always tell them the truth,” Steve replies, carefully cataloguing the rush of expressions across Tony’s face, knowing precisely what to look for.

    A sharp flash of fear darts across his face, sharp and honest, before it’s smothered, forced back into oblivion as Tony schools his features. He flashes Steve a grin, too sharp and brittle for Steve’s liking.

    “And then what? Sit back and watch the world burn?” he asks, and Steve can hear the hesitation there.

    He remembers listening to Tony recount the kidnapping, remembers mapping out the network of scars around the arc reactor. He can hear Tony quiet words directly in his ear, about the weapons being sold behind his back, about the number of people who have had their hands inside what he’s made and given his life to. He remembers holding Tony close, too terrified to let go when Tony recounts Obadiah’s betrayal and how he’d placed Pepper in the middle of his own mess.

    “You don’t have to tell them you’re Iron Man,” Steve reassures him.

    Tony gives him a look, “There's a disconnect here big guy. What truth are we telling now, Captain Morals?”

    “The truth,” Steve mutters, reaching up to loop one arm around Tony’s neck in order to bring him closer, “Would be the part where I tell them that Steve Rogers has always been in love with Tony Stark.”

    “Where I get to touch you in public. Where I get to kiss you and let you drag me to all those charity events. Where I get to tell the world I’m sweet on Tony Stark.”

    This close, he has the distinct pleasure of hearing Tony’s sharp intake of breath, of feeling the brief twitch in Tony’s shoulders before Tony goes limp in his arms, head buried in his neck.

    “You are so old,” Tony mutters.

    “Shh, we’re having a moment.”

    “I’m going to have to call Pepper.”

    Steve hums in agreement, working a hickey into Tony’s neck, smiling when Tony tilts his head in acquiescence.

    “This is going to be like when we gave them the go-ahead for an Avengers movie,” Tony says, foreboding.

    “I was very heroic,” Steve reminds him, trying not to laugh.

    He had given a very stirring speech at the height of the invasive, encouraging a lost Hawkeye to find his footing once more.

    Tony squints at him, “Clint’s costume was purple. And had scales.”

    “Very fitting,” Steve says, lips twitching as he recalls Clint howl of outrage.

    It had been deafening in the silence of the theater and he had been rightfully shushed.

    “Thor was a brunette.”

    Steve raises an eyebrow, "He was very convincing. And he managed to mimic Thor's physique."

    “… I dislike your optimism.”

    “You had a very handsome actor,” Steve reminds him, allowing himself a moment to appreciate how the undersuit had looked in the movie. He makes a low noise at the thought and Tony swats him hard.

    “He’s older than me.”

    “And yet just as fit.”

    Tony pulls away, scowling, pressing his fingers against Steve’s lips to keep Steve from reaching for his neck again.

    “He’s greying, Steve,” Tony says waspishly.

    Steve wisely keeps silent on the silver he spies near Tony’s ears as he leans in to drag his teeth across Tony’s neck.

    “You’re right,” Steve agrees easily, kissing Tony soundly, pressing in over and over whenever Tony pulls back against to complain “You’re much better.”

    “Yea–” Steve grins at the slur in Tony’s voice, relishing in the dazed glaze in his eyes  before Tony shook it off, “I know what you’re doing Rogers.”

    “Is it working?”

    “…Yes. You rat bastard.”

    “It’ll be great,” Steve reassures him.

    Tony has no qualms lording it over him when Clint tacks Robbing the Cradle: Stark’s Latest Fling on the fridge.