Steve realizes he's been staring at the same word for twenty seconds at least and he sighs, starting his paragraph all over again. It must be the fifth time, at least, and he just cannot get lost in the story tonight. He puts away his Watership Down paperback and decides to go down to the living room.
Clint and Natasha are watching something attentively and, curious, Steve stops by the couch to see what it is. And stares.
"Is that a cooking show?" he asks, confused. It looks awfully competitive.
"Top Chef," Clint says as if it explains everything and, when a couple of minutes later a nervous lady is deemed the winner, Natasha fist pumps.
"Twenty bucks, baby!" she crows and Clint rolls his eyes.
"Yeah, yeah, you called it. I'll buy you a drink or three later," he says.
Steve debates the merit of sitting down but no, he doesn't want to watch people being so invested in cooking weird stuff. Rattlesnake?
He walks to the rec room, and witnesses Thor and Bruce engaged in one of the most competitive game of ping pong ever. Again, Steve's not sure he wants to see how that one ends. Especially because Bruce is definitely getting worked up.
"Guys?" he calls from the door. "It could be time for a break, yes?" They barely acknowledge his presence, whacking the little ball back and forth.
"No need for pause, my good friend. I shall end all dispute over my mastery of this game in an instant!" Thor says.
"I wouldn't be so sure," Bruce says between clenched teeth.
"JARVIS?" Steve asks.
"I suggest the sprinklers if Bruce gets critically annoyed," he says.
"I'll keep watch, Sir."
"Thanks," Steve says. At least he's done something.
Steve doesn't really think about where he's going next until he's punching the code to get into Tony's workshop. He spent many restless nights here, chatting with Tony or watching him work. Right now Tony's in New Zealand, on official Stark Industries business, and the room feels awfully empty even with all the clutter. Steve stops by the Iron Man armor and his stomach knots a bit. The trip better be as safe as Tony said it would be, with no surprise attacks from who knows what villain. Steve doesn't like Tony being halfway around the world with only the suitcase armor and no backup.
He traces a finger on the gold of the face plate, awed as always by the technology and even more by the genius who created it. Tony could just throw his money at the Avengers and stay safe, but he always ends up right in the middle of the heat. Upon meeting him Steve sure had made a rash first assessment of his character, and he doesn't know if he'll ever stop feeling badly about it. With a big sigh, Steve steps away from the armor and sits at Tony's work bench. Yes, he feels like sulking.
"Can I do something for you, Captain?" JARVIS asks.
"Nah," Steve says. "I'm just bored, I guess. Thank you, though."
Steve pokes at the blueprints on the table, but they are about something too complex for him to understand, though he's sure it's very cool. The white lines on dark blue are fascinating, and Steve can't help but grin at the calculations written in the margins, some underlined trice with multiple explanation marks. Tony has the most expressive math Steve's ever seen. His smile turns fond when in one corner of the blueprint, between doodles and cartoonish robots, Steve spots a drawn replica of his shield as big as a silver dollar. He traces it with a finger and wishes Tony was home.
"I have Mr. Stark on the line, Captain," JARVIS announces out of nowhere.
Steve frowns, hoping there's no emergency.
"Tony? Are you alright?"
"Am I...? Yes, I’m alright. What's the situation?" Tony asks.
This is confusing. "Nothing’s going on here that I’m aware of." Maybe Bruce hulked out after all? "I thought you had a meeting all morning."
"I did, but JARVIS put me through to you. Hence my question about what’s going on."
Is it possible...? Steve feels himself blush.
"Hum. I think JARVIS took the initiative to contact you," he says.
"Why, are things falling apart at the mansion because I’m not there? Is there some epic battle I'm missing?"
Steve snorts. "No. Everything's fine. I was just down here..."
"Down where? In my workshop?" Tony cuts in and, damn, he's quick.
This is a bit embarrassing. "Yeah. It's just..."
"Awww, are you admitting you're missing me, Cap?"
Steve all but splutters and he really, really hopes this conversation is not filmed - who is he kidding - because he is turning beet red, he can feel it.
"It's alright, I miss you too," Tony continues.
It makes Steve smile. "Really?"
"Sure," Tony says, as if it's obvious. "There's no one as pretty as you over here, that's for sure."
Steve rolls his eyes. There Tony goes again, with the over the top teasing.
"Yeah, yeah, you say that to all the boys," he quips back.
Tony laughs. "Maybe, but it's true for you."
"Watch it, next you'll be asking what I'm wearing," Steve dares to joke and he's rewarded by another laugh followed by an impressed whistle.
"Woo, look at that, Captain America making a phone sex joke. I didn't know you had it in you, buddy."
"There's a lot that you don't know about me," Steve says, thinking of his very inconvenient huge crush on the man himself.
"Oh yeah?" Tony says, still teasing. There was some background noise at the start of the conversation, but it's silent now, as if Tony found a private place to chat. Steve feels oddly validated that he's important enough for Tony to ditch his meeting and take time for this.
"Sure," Steve confirms. There's a whole lot of things Steve could surprise Tony with, if he only dared.
"Prove it, big boy," Tony says.
Steve's heart is beating wildly because this could be the perfect time to go out on a limb and finally take action about the ever present something between him and Tony. He’d never thought it would happen this way, but why not? It's totally Clint's fault, who had taken much glee in explaining to Steve how phone sex worked after a series of unfortunate jokes on the comm channel. This is either going to make them or break them, but Steve decides to take the plunge.
"What are you wearing?" Steve asks, pitching his voice lower than usual and praying that he doesn't sound totally ridiculous.
Tony laughs and the bottom drops out of Steve's stomach. Of course he thinks this is a joke. Steve tries to laugh too but the falseness must give him away because Tony stops and there's an uncomfortable three seconds of silence.
"Holy shit, you were serious," Tony says, awed, and Steve is completely mortified.
"What? No. Hey, I think I might be hearing something upstairs, I should check it out," Steve babbles. He'll take the Hulk right now, no problem.
"Steve, hey, wait..." Tony says.
"Okay, goodbye," Steve says, as chipper as he can sound, and he wishes he had an actual telephone to hang up. But JARVIS, the traitor, is its master's creation so it doesn't listen to him and Tony stays on the line.
"Steve! Damnit! Wait a second!"
Steve is halfway to the workshop's door, resolute to escape.
"Do it again," Tony demands. "Ask again, come on."
It makes Steve frown. Tony would not be so cruel as to mock him like that.
"I have on one of my black Armani suits, a nice one because I want to make an impression, you know? White shirt and a tie, too. Can you guess what color my tie is?"
Steve detours to the couch where Tony sometimes crashes, and he sits down with a sigh. Fuck. He really hopes Tony is not yanking his chain here.
"Tony..." he whispers, tired. "We'll talk when you co..."
Tony cuts him. "It's a blue tie. I picked it because it reminded me of your ey-," Tony stutters, then continues, "of the blue of your armor."
It makes Steve smile and he lets himself fall on his back, relaxing a bit. "Yeah?"
"Uh huh. It's a very nice tie," Tony says.
"I'm sure it is. You look real good in a suit, you know."
"Well thank you," Tony says, a smile in his voice. "You clean up nice, too."
Tony's playing it safe, probably not to spook him. It doesn't mean Steve has to be that careful if this new game is welcome.
"I might have thought of a thing or two I could do with those nice ties of yours," Steve says, deciding for a surgical strike.
There's a coughing noise, as if he surprised Tony enough that he swallowed wrong.
"You don't say. I like the sound of that. Hell, I really, really love the sound of that."
"One day I'm going to show you," Steve says, imagining grabbing Tony's tie and wrapping it around his fist, pulling him close. "I'm going to use it like a leash and make you step aside from whatever party we'll be at the time. Not too far, maybe in the coat room or a bathroom, or out the door in the back, where someone could walk in on us."
"Fuuuuuuuuck," Tony exhales. "Am I speaking to Steve Rogers? Really? Clint, is that you modulating your voice, you fucker?"
Steve chuckles, low and rough. He loves that he's got Tony destabilized right now. Everyone thinks he's such a boy scout, it’s not that they’re entirely wrong, but Steve's always had plenty of imagination. And thinking about what he'd do to Tony, given half a chance? He's done that plenty.
"Oh, it's me alright. Where are you right now?"
"I left the conference room and now I’m in an empty office." If Steve’s not imagining things, he's pretty sure that Tony is breathing faster.
"So you're alone?" he asks.
"Yes, or at least until whomever works here comes back," Tony confirms.
Better go all in, then. He can do it.
"Are you getting hard?"
"Am I getting hard?" Tony sounds disbelieving. "I've been hard since I realized you weren’t kidding. In fact, I got hard so fast I almost got dizzy and I could probably drill through your shield right now, that's how hard I am. Fuck."
Steve runs a finger over his jeans, down the length of his erection and grunts at the jolt of pleasure.
"I'm hard too," Steve tells Tony. "I might have to take care of that."
"Shit, goddamn, I wish... I want to take care of it," Tony says. "I've got to call my pilot..."
Steve laughs, which derails Tony.
"You can't just throw your business trip aside to come back for this!" Steve says.
"Yes I can," Tony says, convincingly. It's oddly endearing.
"Tony, it's fine. Anyway it would take you hours to get back and I don't think I'll wait that long."
"That's not fair," Tony grumbles. "Why do you decide to suddenly be lewd when I’m on the other side of the planet, huh? You couldn’t, I don't know, have thought about it when I was right there, more than willing to, to..." he tapers off.
He can't suddenly be shy, not Tony.
"What would you do for me?" Steve asks.
"Anything." It's definitive, straight from the gut and Steve shivers at the intensity behind the word. "Seriously, anything you want, that you were ever curious about, and everything you haven’t even thought about yet, I'd do any of it, all of it, if that's what you want."
"That sounds promising," Steve says, and he can't help it, he has to unzip and he pushes a hand into his pants to stroke his cock, arching into his own touch.
"Is that... are you touching yourself?" Tony asks. "That's so fucking hot. I wish... I could have JARVIS..."
"No, Tony, no video." Steve might have fewer hang ups about sex than everyone assumes he has, but he's not comfortable at the idea of there being images of him like this. Not right now, at least, not for their first exploration of this thing between them.
"You're no fun!" Tony whines.
"What about you?" Steve asks. "Are you touching yourself too?"
"You didn't tell me I could," Tony says. Through his lust filled brain, Steve knows this is relevant information, but he'll think about what it means later.
"Oh, you can," Steve says. "In fact I want you to, right there, in that office."
He can hear the zip of Tony's pants coming down and there's a deep groan down the line that proves Tony's got a hand on his dick. "Yeah, okay, done. I should, wait, I'll lock the door..."
"You do that." Steve doesn't want anyone to catch Tony right now. He probably looks completely debauched, eyes wild and pants pushed down his thighs, fisting his cock. That's for his eyes only.
"God, Steve, this won't last, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking close already," Tony says, voice shot to hell.
Steve shimmies his jeans down his thighs too, to make it easier to jack himself.
"Me too," he pants. If he's that bothered with only Tony's voice, how will it be when he can put his hands on the man?
He's wanted this, wanted it badly and it's a bit surreal that it seems he's going to get it.
"Have you thought about this before?" Steve asks, wanting some kind of reassurance that he's not alone in this madness.
That's just logistics, and not at all what Steve is asking about.
"No. I mean us. Something happening."
"All the fucking time, from the moment I saw you," Tony confesses. "Do you know how hard it was for me not to drop on my knees and beg to blow you?"
Steve snorts in amusement, but then he thinks of it, of Tony on his knees for him and he moans at the thought.
Tony's breath hitches. "If I'd known, god, Steve!"
"I want that, I want your mouth on me," Steve pants, putting his hips into the motion now.
"Oh god, yes, I'll make it so good for you," Tony is all but babbling. "I give great head,"
Steve usually finds modesty more attractive than arrogance, but he doesn't doubt that affirmation one single second.
"Do you – huh - like getting fucked?" Steve asks, surprised at his own boldness, adding a twist on the head of his dick on each upstroke.
"I love it. I wish you were here, or I was there, whatever,"
"I'm on your couch, in the workshop," Steve manages to say. "I'm going to fuck you on that couch, I'm going to fuck you everywhere," he promises.
There's a strangled sound and Steve instantly knows that Tony just came, which triggers his own orgasm. The punch of pleasure right to his core steals his breath as he shudders for long seconds, and then sags back against the couch.
It's quiet, with only their labored breathing breaking the silence, but it's comfortable. Until there's a sound on the other side of the line, a door rattling and Tony yelps in surprise.
"What the fuck?" he yells. "I told you I had an urgent call! I'll be right there."
"Sorry, Mister Stark," says a muffled voice. "If there's anything we can do..."
"Yes, you can fuck off for a little while, thank you!"
"Tony!" Steve admonishes. Tony should be more careful with people. It's remarks like that one that give him all that bad press.
"They ruined my afterglow, I'm being merciful, believe me," Tony says. He sounds about five years old.
"Go to your meeting, Tony."
"Ooops, this door will never be the same," Tony says, making Steve roll his eyes. "At least I didn't get spunk all over my clothes."
"Good for you. Now clean up and do whatever you have to do over there."
Speaking of, Steve looks around and finds a box of wet wipes to take care of the mess on his own stomach.
"You're bossy." A beat. "Not going to lie, in certain circumstances I like it."
Steve honestly loves the guy, but there's a reason he wants him to take care of business, literally. "Tony..."
"Oh, there’s the exasperated tone I know so well. Okay, okay, I'll do that. I have a vast interest into getting this fucking deal done yesterday."
"Yep. Don't go and scrap it just to get out of New Zealand and back as soon as possible or I'll know," Steve warns.
"I'd prefer if you'd close the deal now, since you’re already there anyway, so you don't have to go back in a couple of weeks."
Of course Tony has to argue. "Deals fall through all the time, delays, yadda, yadda..."
"You told me it was just a formality," Steve says. "Besides, Pepper won't lie to me if I ask,"
There's a put upon huff. "Is it so bad that I want to come back home right now?"
"No." God, Steve wants Tony here at this instant himself. He should probably tell him that. "I can't wait to see you. But you can't let this, us, mess up your obligations."
Because he wants it to be an "us", not just a fling. Steve guesses he'll have to tread carefully with Tony, not to scare him away. And of course the not letting whatever happens between them interfere with the rest of their lives will be the same for the Avengers, but that's an entirely different can of worms that they'll have to deal with in person.
Another heavy sigh from Tony. "Okay." He sounds almost defeated.
Steve grins. Tony's such a drama queen. "It's going to be fine. We have plenty of time."
"You won't change your mind?" Tony asks. It's said as a joke, the tone is right and everything, but Steve knows the guy, there is real insecurity lurking below the bluster.
"I won't. I swear," he says, solemn.
"Captain America's promise is good enough for me," Tony says, still with the joking tone. Steve really hopes he got the message, though. "Fine, you win," Tony adds.
Steve smiles fondly, and he can't help the tease. "You better get used to it."
Steve hears Tony moving around, probably tidying stuff up and getting ready to go back to work.
"I always win," Steve says. "See you soon."
"Ha! 'Kay, bye," Tony answers. Steve's sure that the line was cut and he's redoing his pants and getting off the couch when Tony speaks up again. "And just for the record, you have a filthy, filthy mind, Rogers."
Steve laughs: it takes one to know one and all that. "But you appreciate it."
"Oh that I do, that I do," Tony says enthusiastically. "I'll call you when I'm on the plane. Ciao."
With a grin, Steve stretches and cracks his neck. He's a lot more relaxed now and the bored hum under his skin is gone. Maybe he'll be able to read for a bit. Or he could go watch a movie, the show about the chefs should be finished by now.
Anyway, he's got a day to kill at the most. After that Tony should be back, and… well, Steve should have plenty of entertainment then.
He can't wait.