The first time they'd fucked was sort of an accident.
You know, if accidents could be qualified as "whoops I punched him and my dick fell in".
They were all pissed off and tired and Tony really had just wanted to pry off his armor, shower, and sleep for a week. Instead, he had an irate Captain-fucking-America banging down the door to his workshop at two in the morning.
Tony looked up from the boot he was repairing (it had been ripped off by one of Loki's nasty little shit-minions) and drawled, "No, really Cap, do come in -- mi casa es su casa, after all."
"What the hell, Stark?" he barked, glaring down at Tony sternly.
"Gonna have to be a little more specific, babydoll," Tony sang. "People say that to me all day long and let me tell you, I stop listening after the fourth or fifth time that--"
"You disobeyed a direct order in the middle of battle," Steve growled, stalking over to Tony's scrap-infested table. He crossed his arms over his chest and hissed, "I am seriously getting tired of your insubordination."
"I'm sorry, which part am I supposed to be sorry about?" Tony mocked, flipping up his goggles; Tony swiped a hand across his forehead only to find them both now stained with grease. "The part where I saved everyone's ass or the part where I just don't give a shit what you think?"
"What you did was mess up the coordination of the entire team and unnecessarily damage city property." Steve, if it was at all possible, frowned even harder.
"Didn't your mother ever tell you if you left your face that way it would stick?" Tony snarked, gesturing at the super soldier with a wrench.
"You blew up a building, Stark!" Steve exploded, slamming a fist down on the metal table before them.
Tony cursed, grabbing a few pieces of his suit up before they could fall to the floor. "It was my goddamn building, I'll blow it up if I want to!"
"That doesn't matter," Steve reasoned, visibly restraining himself from hitting the table again. "Do I need to have a talk with Director Fury about how you're not making an effort to be a part of this team? Maybe we need to bench you for awhile, soldier."
"I'm not your fucking soldier, Rogers," Tony snarled. He slipped his goggles the rest of the way off and dropped them to the table, crossing his own arms. "Go ahead, run to daddy. See how long Bruce sticks around without me."
"Why do you have to make everything so incredibly difficult?" Steve quasi-shrieked, stomping up so that they were chest to chest. "Howard--"
And really, Steve should know by now that mentioning his dad was a no-no, because before Tony even had time to process what he was doing, he'd lunged out and and rammed his fist into the side of Boy's Wonder's perfectly sculpted jaw.
Steve, the rotten super-enhanced asshole that he was, flinched back from surprise more than anything, but Tony supposed he had his pride to deal with, because he socked Tony half a second later.
Tony, unfortunately, did not have the same luck. He fell to the ground, blood gushing from his nose, spitting curse after curse at Steve. "You piece of shit; I think you broke my nose!" he squawked.
Steve faltered. "Oh god, I'm sorry, are you okay--?" he started, scrambling over to peer down at him and Tony kicked upwards, nailing Steve in the face again.
Steve roared and grabbed Tony up by the shirt, pulling them nose to nose. "You think that's funny, Stark?"
"No, but this is," Tony challenged and smashed his mouth to Steve, biting down on the man's lip hard.
Steve made a noise of protest, yanking Tony's head back by his hair as Tony purred, "What, you don't like that, handsome?" The good captain growled in response and kissed him quiet, tongue sliding against Tony's teeth. Steve pulled back again, this time smirking, and whispered, "What, you don't like that?"
"Ha!" Tony laughed, sliding his hands under Steve's tunic, blunt nails digging into the man's hips. He bit down on the purpling flesh of Steve's jaw.
Steve grunted, letting go of Tony's hair so he could swipe his workstation clean; various gadgets fell to the floor and Steve dropped Tony to the table unceremoniously, pinning him to the metal and kissing him fiercely.
Groaning, Tony wrapped his legs and Steve's waist and ground up, gasping into Steve's mouth, "No, no, sunshine: my workshop, my rules." He shimmied his way out from under Steve, biting back a gripe about his age as he dropped to his knees. Tony jerked at Steve's pants and swallowed half of his dick, sucking hard.
Steve's knees almost buckled; he moaned loudly, rolling his hips. He grabbed the edges of the table and held on tight, crying out as Tony put his mouth to good use. "Oh, mercy," he rasped, thighs trembling.
"What'sa matter, no one ever sucked your dick before, big boy?" Tony teased, licking up the entire length. Steve glared down at him and Tony crowed, "No shit, really? Oh, buddy, you are going to love this-- JARVIS, where's my--?"
"The drawer to your left, sir. Shall I make sure you are uninterrupted for the time being?"
"You're a good man, JARVIS," Tony stated solemnly, digging around in a drawer and pulling out a small container of lube and a condom. He circled around behind Steve and nipped at his ass. "Gonna make you scream my name, buttercup," Tony promised, nuzzling the mark he left behind.
"What are you--ahh," Steve hissed, head twisting around as Tony circled a wet fingertip against his ass.
"Yes?" Tony requested, pausing in his ministrations. He looked up at Steve questioningly; whatever anyone else said about him, they couldn't say he didn't ask permission.
Steve groaned again, staring at Tony's red, swollen mouth. "Nngh, yeah, okay," he agreed, turning back around and trying to quell the blush rising on his face.
Tony hummed and cautiously slid a finger in, free hand going back to Steve's cock. Steve lowered his head to the cool metal, moaning into the table. "Fuck, you're so tight," Tony whimpered, pulling his finger out and massaging the ring of muscle there. "Have you ever been fucked before? Ever been opened up with another man's cock, felt full another to burst?" Steve shuddered; Tony pressed two fingers in, spreading them slightly. "Yeah, just like that, just like that." Without warning, Tony pulled his hand back and shoved three fingers in. Steve threw his head back and groaned. Tony fucked him slowly, as deep as his fingers would go, turning Steve to a writhing, sobbing mess. He laughed, rocking back on his heels and moving away from Steve entirely.
Steve turned back to Tony, eyes wide and pupils blown. "What the hell?" he demanded.
Tony smirked and wiped the rest of the blood off his face with his sleeve. He unbuckled and slid his belt off and let it clang to the floor, keeping his gaze locked on Steve's face. He winced momentarily, erection straining near painfully against his waistband. Tony dropped his pants and kicked them somewhere away, amused at Steve's silence. "Likin' what you see, Capsicle?"
Steve frowned, about to make some pissy remark when Tony rolled his eyes, fingers wrapping around the superhero's cock again. Steve exhaled sharply, retort lost in his lust. "Tony," he managed, voice slightly garbled.
With the skill only a certified sex-machine could manage, he snatched up the condom and ripped the package open with his teeth, sliding it down his aching dick as he stroked Steve off. Steve gasped when the tip of Tony's cock slid against his ass.
With a flick of Tony's wrist Steve was coming, biting back a pleased groan. "Let's see how well that super-stamina works, eh Cap?" he murmured, slowly pushing the head of his dick in.
"F--uuuck," Steve moaned, scratching at the table. He pushed his hips back, driving his ass further onto Tony's dick. His hips jerked. "Oh fuck," he repeated, clenching tight.
Tony nearly choked, digging his fingertips into Steve's hips. He slid Steve off halfway and slammed him back down, moaning when Steve shouted something loud and incoherent. "Oh yeah, that's it," he hissed, picking up the pace. Tony fucked him hard and fast over the table, whispering hot little phrases into the blond's ear. "Yeah, I bet you like that, Rogers, don't you, can't get enough of my cock, fuck, you're so hot, needy and eager and so fucking tight." Tony's toes curled in his socks; he shifted his hips slightly and Steve cried out again. "Fuck yeah, I bet I can get you to come again--how many times can I get you to, I wonder? Three? Four?" He drove his dick in deep.
Steve moaned pitifully, reaching down to stroke himself. "Oh god, oh god, I'm about to--"
"Go ahead, come as many times as you want, babe," Tony growled, one hand slipping up to pinch a nipple. He scraped his teeth across Steve's back and then bit down through the shirt. Steve came again, spilling across his fingers and Tony hissed, "Lick it off, yeah, that's right, fuck, you like that? I bet you do." Steve eagerly slipped two fingers in his mouth and sucked; Tony moaned and his balls tightened. "Fuck." Tony drove into Steve a few more times then stilled, panting harshly against the man's shoulder. He placed a sloppy kiss there and pulled out a few moments later, tying off the condom and tossing it one-handed in the trash.
Groping blindly for his stool, Tony stumbled over to it and fell back, grin lazy and pleased. "Can I expect this treatment every time I piss you off, Cap?" he teased, lowering his lashes flirtatiously.
Steve froze, the pleasant relaxation of his spine tightening up. He frowned at Tony, jaw tightening and cheeks flushing. "Not on your life, Stark," he spat, pulling up his pants and half-marching, half-limping out.
"Not on your life" lasted about a week, actually. Tony (as he oftentimes does) mouthed off to the paparazzi. To be fair, Iron hardly ever caused bad press; Tony Stark was the one who usually started incidents. The 'incident' in question hadn't even been that big of deal, just a quote taken out of context and printed of the front page of the Times. Then when Steve had read the headlines (seriously, who even read the actual physical paper anymore?), he'd freaked out and started ranting about it in the middle of the street. One thing led to another and suddenly Tony was telling Captain America to go fuck himself on national television.
And so now they were both getting an earful from a very irate Fury. Tony remained completely unfazed (he was very good at ignoring Fury), but Steve was getting redder and pissier by the second. By the time they left his office, Steve was practically foaming at the mouth.
"That wasn't so bad, was it Cap? I--fff," Tony sputtered as Steve grabbed him by the collar and practically threw him in the first door they passed by.
"Out," Steve told the wide-eyed intern sternly. After seeing him nearly soil himself, Steve amended, gentler, "Please," and the intern scurried out, slamming the door behind him.
"Look, can you not punch me in the nose again? My face just stopped looking like an ad for Covergirl and I--" Steve spun him around and pressed him up against the wall; Tony inhaled deep. "Oh my god, this is going to become a thing, isn't it?"
"When are you going to stop trying to piss me off, Stark?" Steve muttered, low and hot into Tony's ear.
Tony whimpered. "Fuck, please tell me this was some kind of kinky, porno-type punishment they did in the army -- I just came up with like, fifteen new jokes to tell Rhodey."
Steve snorted, grabbing a handful of Tony's ass to give it a squeeze; Tony groaned and pushed back into the other man. He opened his mouth to speak again and Steve suddenly ripped off Tony's (very expensive) suit jacket, yanking at his shirt collar.
Buttons flew off and pinged onto the tile and Tony had enough time to whisper, "You asshole!" before Steve had sunk his teeth into Tony's shoulder. He threw his head to the side, panting, and Steve mouthed along his neck, sucking at his jugular (There was a vampire joke in there somewhere).
Steve grunted and gripped Tony's hips, grinding the shorter man back against him; Tony felt Steve's dick, hard as a rock, through his pants and moaned. Lips moving to Tony's jaw, Steve slid his hand forward and unbuttoned the man's pants. Steve reached in and rubbed his hand slowly against Tony's leaking cock. Tony groaned again, loudly.
"Fuck," Tony whined and Steve sucked behind his earlobe, thumb slipping over the head. His hips jerked messily. "Are you seriously going to just tease me, or?"
Steve wrapped a hand around Tony's cock and squeezed, stroking him quickly and efficiently, teeth grazing the nape of Tony's neck. He kept a steady rhythm -- so exactly like him, the good soldier that he was -- forcing Tony to slowly, loudly fall to pieces in front of him. To Tony's utter frustration, Steve also spent the entire time with his dick pressed right up to Tony's ass.
"I can think of a few things you can do with that, Rogers," Tony huffed quietly, bracing his elbows against the wall for support. Steve ignored him. He came shortly after with a quiet moan, forehead falling to the plaster with an impressive thunk. "Fuck," he gasped, shutting his eyes tight.
Steve pulled back and Tony heard a little rustle; Tony leisurely turned to face him and Steve gifted him with a wide, smug smile. "See you at the tower, Stark," he said with a wave, stalking out and leaving Tony alone, half-naked, and utterly ravished in the empty SHIELD office.
"Holy hell, Stark."
Tony looked up from his coffee mug.
"What the hell happened to you?" Clint Barton asked, jaw dropped, eyes sweeping Tony up and down. "Did you seriously get laid between Fury's office and here?"
Tony shrugged; he was wearing a sweater, but it hardly hid the red and purple mess that was his neck. "What can I say? I'm very desirable," he purred. Tony grinned slyly, glad he'd at least changed before coming to the kitchen. A few (dozen) hickeys was one thing for his teammates to see, come-stained pants were another. The shirt was ruined and the jacket would need to be dry-cleaned, but eh. Worse had happened to him.
"Gross, Stark," Natasha Romanoff mentioned, padding into the kitchen and rummaging through the fridge.
"You act like sex is such a bad thing," Tony huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.
Natasha straightened slowly, one eyebrow raised. "I have a lot of sex," she said coolly and Tony felt a wave of fear envelop him, recalling her codename was the motherfucking Black Widow.
"I'm going to leave before you eat my soul," Tony murmured, snatching up his cup and nearly running into Steve. He beamed up at the man, proclaiming, "Hey Capper-Dapper. Long time no see!"
Steve frowned, eyes straying to the marks on Tony for a second before twisting his shoulders and stepping around him.
"Aww, don't be like that sugar plum, are you still mad at me?" Tony stuck his lower lip out.
"Uh, that happened this morning," Clint said around a mouthful of chips. "You told him to go fuck himself in front of a bunch of reporters."
Tony threw his hands in the air. "He started it!"
"Right." No one sounded very convinced.
"You guys suck, why did I let you live in my tower, I'm going downstairs to play with Bruce," Tony muttered, downing the rest of his caffeinated delight.
"Have fun, Tony," Natasha sang sweetly as he left.
Tony wasn't sure if he was more or less scared of her than normal at the tone she used.
And that was how their weird hate-sexcapade started. They would piss each other off (more often than not, Tony was the cause), slam each other up against the nearest available, relatively flat surface, and go to town. Tony topped, because duh, Tony was awesome, Steve did amazing things with his mouth, and neither of them talked about it afterward.
Which was a pretty sweet deal if you thought about it, because hello, no-strings sex. The only slight downer was that after seeing the bruises he'd made, Steve was much more cautious about what he did where with his teeth. Underneath Tony's clothes, however...
Steve bit down, hot and wet on Tony's hipbone, tongue sliding soothingly around the mark he left behind. Tony groaned low in his throat and the sensation vibrated through the arc reactor; he clutched a hand to his chest absentmindedly. Steve, meanwhile, opened his mouth and swallowed Tony's dick, licking lazily around the head as he slid up and down.
"Jesus Christ, Rogers," Tony gasped out, trying to lock his knees back in place. "Get up, honey muffin, get up, I'm gonna fuck you up against this wall."
"No," Steve said roughly as he pulled back, standing up and looking down at Tony. Grabbing him by the shoulder, Steve spun him around, thumb massaging into the muscle. "My turn this time," he promised, sending a shiver up Tony's spine.
"Pooh bear, if you wanted to top, you should've said something," Tony babbled, fingertips pressing against the wall.
"I am," Steve replied, nipping at the sensitive skin behind Tony's ear. "Take your pants off."
"Sir, yes sir," Tony murmured, hands going for his belt. Behind him, Tony could hear Steve removing his own trousers and folding them neatly on the floor beside him. The pop of a bottle cap graced his ears, followed by a crackle of plastic and then Steve was pressing a slick finger in Tony's ass. "Ahh, fuck, that's good," he gasped, hips wiggling slightly.
Steve chuckled quietly, slipping the finger out and squirting another dollop of lube in; he shoved in two fingers this time, stretching him fast. "I'm going to bend you over and fuck you so hard, you'll feel it in the meeting tomorrow," he hissed into Tony's ear, already adding a third finger. "Maybe you'll actually behave for once."
Tony moaned, thunking his forehead against the wall. "Oh my god, keep this up and maybe I will."
Steve laughed again and fiddled with the condom, sliding it on and tugging Tony off the wall. He pushed Tony's shoulders forward and braced the tip of his cock against Tony's ass; when Tony shuddered again, he slid in slowly, splaying his fingers across Tony's hipbones before clinging to them for dear life.
"Jesus-fuck, come on Cap, I thought you were gonna fuck me, gonna make me feel it and--"
Steve cut him off by pulling almost all the way out and ramming back into Tony, hand reaching around and thumbing the head of his dick. Tony choked, a startled groan ripping from his throat. Steve slid off and slammed back into Tony's ass a few more times, adjusting the angle ever so slightly until Tony was whimpering beneath him, hands pressed white-knuckled to the wall.
Steve grunted softly and Tony could tell he was making a displeased face. "Problems, Cap-ricorn?" he drawled, feigning disinterest.
"I was born in July, Stark," he muttered, stilling for a moment. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against Tony's scalp. "Just... give me a minute."
"Yeah, sure, hey cool, I'll just sort of crouch here with my ass in the air," Tony ground out, bracing his elbow to the wall. Steve smacked the side of his ass, hissing out, "Tony," and Tony jumped. "Oh man, first names, ouch sorry buddy, take your time, it's all good."
Steve growled again and Tony shut the hell up (because contrary to how he was acting, he really just wanted to get laid); he straightened slowly, grasping Tony's hips again and resuming his previous rhythm. "Sorry," he said quietly after a moment. "This is just the first time, I've ever done this."
"Hey, no problem," Tony said simply and dropped his head to the wall, groaning into his shoulder. "Fuck, ah, fuck." One of his hands slithered off the wall and Tony started messily jerking himself off.
Steve made a noise deep in his throat, pressing up against Tony's back. He had to fuck him slightly more shallow than he wanted to, but it allowed Steve access to the nape of Tony's neck, right at the spot where his shirt collar would cover any marks he left.
With a sharp breath through his nose, Tony came, ass clenching and collapsing near boneless against the wall. He huffed a little laugh. "You did fine, Steve," he mumbled, eyes fluttering shut against the beads of sweat that threatened to drip down his forehead.
Steve moaned, thrusting into Tony a few more times before finally succumbing to his own orgasm, pressing surprisingly gentle, open-mouthed kisses to Tony's jaw.
Tony whistled. "I am definitely going to need a break if we're going for round two," he murmured, somehow managing to stay somewhat vertical.
Steve grabbed the base of the condom and slide out, backing away from Tony. "No thanks," he replied, smirking. "Sparring practice in the gym in twenty, though." He gave Tony's hair one more semi-fond tug (could one even tug hair fondly?) and threw his condom in the trash. Grabbing his pants, Steve jumped into them and pulled himself back together, straightening his hair and tugging down his shirt. With one final grin, Steve departed, once again leaving Tony alone and half-naked.
Oh, Rogers was evil alright.
"Yeah? Let me put on the suit and see whose footwork is what," Tony growled, sidestepping Clint's fist. Clint tripped him then and Tony nearly fell flat on his back, grabbing the rope to the boxing ring just in time. He swung himself forward and threw an elbow.
"Hey, I don't have my arrows, do I? No suit for you," Clint snorted, shoving Tony's arm away. "Seriously, what's with you, old man? You're usually better than this."
Tony's eyes narrowed; he dropped down to the floor and when Clint went to dodge, Tony turned on his side and kicked upward, knocking him in the ribs. Clint stumbled and Tony brought another elbow down against his sternum. "Who's an old man?" Tony asked as Clint fell, panting.
"Okay, fine, not you," Clint conceded, holding his hands up. "Mind letting me go then, big boy?"
"What? Yeah, sorry," Tony mumbled, shuffling to his feet and wobbling back to the side of the ring.
"You know, it's all fine and dandy if you beat your opponent," Clint started, sitting up, "but if it wipes you out in the process, it's not going to do you much good."
Wordlessly, Tony threw the upper half of his body over the ropes and hung there. He groaned softly, wet bangs falling into his face. Tony felt his shirt ride up.
Clint whistled. "Damn, Tony, your new girlfriend's kind of an animal. Where'd you find her and does she have any hot friends?"
Someone growled lowly; probably Natasha. Tony didn't even bother to shift around and try to get a peek at what Clint was talking about; it must have been impressive though. "No, you can't have any of her friends," Tony denied, feeling a smirk slide up his face as he caught Steve's gaze (he and Natasha were taking a break, apparently) for a second. "Mainly because she doesn't have any."
"It must be serious, though," Bruce piped up from the corner of the room, reading glasses on. "It's been, what, three months? That's longer than your usual flings."
"Flings? Ouch, pumpkin pie, that hurts," Tony feigned distress, pressing a hand to his arc reactor. He finally stood, throwing his arms above his head and stretching; his spine popped. "Besides, it isn't anything serious. It's just sex," Tony insisted, rolling his head from side to side. "Round two, Hawkeye?" he quipped.
But apparently they weren't done talking about him, because Bruce frowned disapprovingly, stating, "Tony, you can't just lead her on like that. Someone's feelings are going to get hurt."
Tony faltered momentarily. "I'm not leading anyone on and I'm definitely not going to hurt anybody's feelings. It's the twenty-first century -- people are capable of being fuck buddies without stomping on anyone's delicate sensitivities."
Bruce looked unconvinced. "Tony," he started again and Tony threw his hands up in the air.
"What do you want from me? Goddamn," he muttered, slipping between the ropes and stalking out of the gym. He was going to down to his workshop and build a robot or something, because robots (sassy as his creations may be) didn't assume stupid shit like Tony was going to break Captain-fucking-America's heart when most of the time, Steve was the one making up the rules.
Ugh. Not that Tony was worried about anyone's heart breaking.