Work Header

My Private Dancer

Work Text:

1. It was getting difficult to control his nerves. Steve had tried breathing deeply, thinking of other things, and even a shot of jager that Clint had passed him with a knowing grin. Nothing had helped, and the booze just made his blood rush hotter to his face.

"They'll pay extra just to see if that blush goes all the way down." Clint chuckled, bent over and buckling on a pair of thigh high boots. The outfit he had on was all black leather, stylized to look like a fetish Robin Hood or something. The first time he saw his friend in it, turning before the full length mirror in his bedroom, Steve had laughed so hard his guts hurt. But Clint had just smiled and winked, "Worth it for the money."

Steve hadn't believed his roommate when he was told that his "job" paid in the high triple digits, sometimes in one night. But as the weeks went past, and Clint had started paying for more around their apartment, even Steve's share of the rent, it had made him curious.

So that's how he'd ended up following Clint to work one evening in the cold November air, surprised to find that he was in lower Manhattan at a very chic and elegant building tucked between banks and mortgage firms. Clint had winked at the doorman, and led Steve down into the bowels of the structure to a gold door, with an elegant sign above it that read "Mon Coeur."

Steve was not prepared for what he'd been led into.

It was an extremely high-end, exclusive-to-the-wealthy strip joint.

The room was dimly lit, but elegantly so. Mahogany and satin, teak and velvet were everywhere in subdued colors. A long marble bar curved along one side of the room. Men and women, dressed to the nines in designer clothing, from all over the world, sipped fine wines and ancient whiskies and nibbled on shrimp and foie gras at small tables while upon a raised center dais...

...a barely clad blonde male was moving to haunting, thumping music. Steve gaped and tried to look away, immediately embarrassed. But the way Clint was leading them through the room, the sight was turned back to his eyes. He couldn't look away.

The dancer was masked, Steve noticed, remembering Clint had put on a mask, too. The blonde was built like a demi-god, all muscle and grace. Steve was entranced. Before he registered what had happened, the man slid his hand down and deftly unstrung a gold...was that a loin cloth?!....tossing it gently away to reveal a massive set of equipment that Steve couldn't quite believe he was looking- he was LOOKING! He dropped his eyes, reaching out to steady himself on a chair.

The crowd murmured appreciatively and then Clint nudged him, pulling him away from a soft British voice who had begun calling over the crowd. Numbers, Steve thought. What did that mean? He took one last look over his shoulder, hands silouhetted against the brighter lights of the center stage. The man upon it was grinning and flexing, looking well pleased. Then Steve heard an angry shout, caught a glimpse of a pale, dark haired man arguing with a red-headed woman, and then they were gone, swallowed by a dark heavy curtain Clint drew him behind.

"What was going on, Clint?" Steve felt hot all over, his blush turning to a flush, the image of the dancing man fresh in his mind. His artistic sensibilities loved the view, wanting to draw that shape in its full beauty, and his body liked it too. Steve thought of himself as an open-minded man, but this was ....what was this? He'd never considered men over women, but... Carefully, he adjusted himself in his pants, trying not to draw attention to it.

Clint saw it anyway. Thankfully, he didn't say anything, just drew Steve further on down a hallway lined with doors. Dressing rooms, Steve discovered, passing several with names in the same elegant script. "The Black Widow," on one door, "Thor," on another. There were several more, but Clint stopped at the door that said "Hawkeye," and led him inside.

It was a very fancy dressing room, fitted with more of the same wood and marble that the main room had. Clint had costumes draped over chaise lounges and chairs, and Steve dropped down onto one gratefully.

"So, you're a stripper?" Steve asked, rubbing the back of his neck. It was beyond awkward, even though Steve had lived is whole life in New York, this was just not something he'd ever indulged in. He worked his meager hours waiting tables, and scraped enough for art school, focusing on little else. The money was always tight, and Clint's recent fortunes had been enough to get him to come out of his shell a little bit and look for more ...lucrative opportunities.

"Basically, yeah." Clint grinned and stripped off his clothes quickly, Steve averting his eyes. Clint chuckled and began strapping on black leather. "And more than that, too, if the price is right."

Steve's jaw dropped and he whipped his head around in time to see Clint pulling on a pair of leather pants over a thong that was nothing more than string and scrap. "You're a prostitute!? Clint- no- NO!" Steve stood and made for the door, he was insane to have even thought that this was something on the level.

Clint reached out to grab his upper arm, "Hey whoa! Don't judge! You seem to like the money just fine when its filling the fridge." Clint didn't sound angry, and when Steve turned to him, Clint was still smiling. "And no, it doesn't have to be sex. Though some of us around here will do that. Me, no." He grinned wider. "Well, not yet at least. We'll see when the price gets high enough."

"Well then what do you do?" Steve sighed, confused. At least the shock had pushed off the edge of arousal he'd felt.
"Look at it like this. The people who dance here are in exceptional fine physical form. We're like pieces of art. People will pay good money for private viewings." Clint winked and Steve rolled his eyes, Clint continuing. "Sure, sometimes we'll jerk off for them, or they'll jerk off watching us, but most of the time, we just dance or give a lap grind, or hell, even chat. That happens to Thor a lot."

"You- you- jerk off to- what!?" Steve spluttered, getting all flushed and bothered again. "How is that-?" but Clint cut him off.

"Cool your shit, man. You sign a contract when you start work here that outlines what you will and will not do. That affects how much money you make, sure, but they don't push you on it. Fury is good like that, and he protects us, makes sure that clients don't take advantage."

"" Steve started, then closed his mouth. He couldn't believe he was actually considering it, but the tuition was going to be due for next semester...and he'd been working out for a long time, growing and shaping a body that was worthy enough for figure drawing.

"Already got you an interview." Clint grinned.

So now here he was, two weeks later, sharing a dressing room with Clint, and getting into costume for his debut on the dance dais. Fury had taken one look at him, and grinned like a wolf. "They'll pay through the nose for you." Was all he'd said before getting his assistant to fetch the contract. Steve had signed that first night there, signing to agree to dancing and nothing more. Sexual contact was against the pen now. Steve could live with that.

"C'mon, saddle up. You're on in five." Clint clapped him on the shoulder. Steve nodded and finished up the buckles on his chaps. He'd been given the persona of an All-American cowboy. Tassels and leather, a shiny star on his jacket, a hat and a mask like the Lone Ranger's but blue. All in subtle blue and red colors, all well made. This was a high-scale establishment, after all.

Steve slid his mask in place and followed Clint out into the hall and down into a lower stage beneath the dais. There was a trap door in the center of it, and a raising floor, which carried the dancer up for the big reveal. Standing on it, Steve pushed down the doubts that were rising up in his head.

With a last smile at Clint, who gave a low encouragement and a reminder about the last trick to pull towards the end of his dance, he inhaled and waited as the soft British voice came over the audio and announced him.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome our latest work of art to Mon Coeur." Steve shifted and turned into his opening pose as the trap door opened above him. The light shone down on him and he exhaled.

"The Captain."

The crowd was silent as he rose onto the dais. Clint had explained that was normal, as these people paid a lot of money to see this, and did not want the peasant excuse of cheers and vulgar shouts to obscure their pleasure. Steve shoved down his nerves at the silence, he could hear a pin drop.

Then the music began, and Steve moved into it, just like Clint had taught him.

Low thrumming drums and a wailing flute and countering guitar wove a sensual painting of sound around him and Steve tuned out the eyes staring at him and threw himself into the dance. He was an artist, and he would make paintings in movement and pose.

Slowly, his clothing shed as he deftly drew off gloves, then boots. A deeper bass began to thump and Steve drew off his leather jacket, exposing his upper body, rocking his hips. An audible gasp from the crowd caught him off guard as he tried not to think about what they saw. The murmurs grew, calls chasing around. Clint said they were supposed to be silent...was he doing something wrong? He grit his teeth and turned, he was going to finish the job. Sliding off the suspenders over his shoulders, he lifted his head and tipped back the hat.

Now was the time for the trick Clint had reminded him of. Lowering his head slowly, he looked out into the audience. Faces were barely discernable, but he caught sight of a low, blue glowing light. In the middle of a man's chest? Steve didn't have time to think about that, he lifted his eyes and locked them with the owner of the light. Dark eyes bored into his, and Steve inhaled sharply, flaring his nostrils. Clint said this was called 'a hook' getting a client interested personally. Steve hoped he didn't look stupid as he smiled what he hoped was his most winning smile for the man who was gesturing to someone beside him, never taking his eyes off Steve. The heat in the man's gaze was palpable. Steve took in the shape of his features, a finely trimmed goatee- a Van Dyke, he thought- and an unmistakable aristocratic air, overall...extremely handsome. That was long enough a look, Steve decided, hoping he didn't loose focus and broke the link, turning into his next few moves.

Only the hat, his chaps and his thong remained on. Slowly the chaps came down, slinking off his legs. He smiled again at the sensual feel of the leather over his skin and turned, flexing all his muscles in fluid rhythm. A shout from the argument was breaking out, he thought. Ignoring it, he focused on the music and turned smoothly again, dipping low into his knees and flexing, reaching behind deftly to unstring his thong. His back to the audience, he pulled it away, tipping his head back as he turned around to face the viewers, arching his body and reaching up to hold the top of his hat down as he slowly bucked his hips, his free hand running slowly down his body to rest at his hip. He could feel the heat of the spotlights on his cock and it gave him an unexpected rush. Biting his tongue to fight it down, he bucked once more and held the pose as the song ended.

The arguing had not stopped, and now the crowd was clamoring, cheering as the trap door opened and Steve slowly descended. The cheering, the arguing was following him down. Then the door slid shut and Steve collapsed onto his knees, shaking.

He'd done it.


2. "Shut the fuck up, Loki!" Tony Stark shouted angrily to the bastard across the room. "You spent your royal allowance on the Thunder god already!" Ignoring the return barb, he turned to his assistant and growled. "Tell me he didn't, Pepper. Tell me we bought the floor out from under that shitstick."

His assistant sighed and passed him a tablet, ready to sign. "He didn't, Tony. You won."

Tony's shout of triumph, followed by a "SUCK IT, YOU NORWEGIAN ASSHOLE! I WIN!" was loud enough for his assistant to shush him angrily. "Chill out, Pep. I bought the Widow woman for you tonight." Frowning, he looked up at the red-head beside him. "Or are we back to men now? You're so fickle." He chuckled as she sighed again.

"You did read his contract, didn't you?" Pepper swiped the screen up as Tony handed it back to her. "He's signed 'non-sexual', you can't just go in there and have your way with him."

"The fuck I can't, Pep." Tony waved over a waiter, ordering a scotch. "Fury knows how much money I just paid him. That means I get what I want. It always does." He ignored Pepper's sigh and a muttering about sexual harassment lawsuits. Didn't matter. He'd won. That choice premium piece of ass that was done up as a cowboy belonged to him for the next eight hours. And he'd never been more eager to partake of his winnings.

To think, Tony almost hadn't come tonight. The last two times, that dipshit prince of Norway had bought Thor out from under him. Of course, Tony had bid against him just for the fun of it, though the Thunder God's hammer was awfully damn tempting. Tony was in it for the thrill. He could have sex with whomever he wanted, anyway. It rankled him, though that Loki had won twice. But as soon as he'd seen that beautiful man, "The Captain" rising up like a real god, Tony had instantly become possessed by lust.

The man moved gracefully, but it wasn't a dancer's grace. It was like an artist making beauty with his body, thinking through and executing brush strokes with gesture and motion. But his body was packed with muscle, like a fighter, tightly coiled. There was focus, determination there, and strength in each bunched muscle. Tony's mouth watered, taking in the tight pink nipples and the slight flush of excitement on inch after inch of perfect skin. He hadn't even seen cock yet and he was getting more turned on that he ever had in his life! The contract that had flashed up on the tablet that each client had stated that this was a non-sexual. Non-sexuals weren't usually as fun, since Tony couldn't actually do anything to alleviate his needs and Tony almost didn't send Pepper off to Fury asking him to open the bidding for the Captain.

But then the Captain had looked up through lashes and looked right into his eyes, those blues so deep that Tony could feel his sky falling. The mask only added to his mystery, to the allure. Then that brilliant smile...Pepper was sent and Fury opened the bidding. Tony had to have him.

Loki was greedy, and Tony wasn't having that. One look at the Captain's cock swaying with the buck of perfect hips and ass and Tony went wild with desire. Despite Pepper's loud arguing, he'd bought the fucking building they were sitting in, agreeing to turn it over to Fury in exchange for the winning bid. Lesser millionaires had tried to get in on the bidding as soon as the first glove came off, but Tony wasn't playing for anything else but the win.

And now he was going to collect his prize.

Downing the scotch, he dismissed Pepper to go claim her own prize. The Black Widow was a stunning beauty in dark and red, but wasn't really Tony's style. He lived to debauch and degrade, and one look at that cowboy had had told him that this was all new to the blonde man. The thought that someone was not jaded and cynical to this whole wealthy sex scene was as tantalizing as the ripples of muscles in that golden body and Tony could taste both. His cock was already half-hard and he didn't even bother to try and hide it as he stood and made for the curtains that led to the dressing rooms.

Tony couldn't wait for the usual, clandestine escort to the room of choice upstairs. He wanted the Captain now. He had bought all night, and he was going to get every last minute of it. He barreled past the other doors, catching exclamations of surprise, but Tony ignored them. He looked at all the names on the doors, not finding the Captain's title. Growing frustrated and then angry, he shouted out for Fury.

"Put it back in your pants, Stark." Fury's dry, cold tone sounded behind him. "He's in the Hawk's room."

"Why doesn't he have his own room? That's fucking changing right now. You get him his own goddamn room." Tony stabbed a finger at the one-eyed man as he turned and banged on the door marked "Hawkeye." "And get a bed in there! A big one!"

"Hold your ass, Stark. I mean it." Fury said, harder tone this time, and Tony turned with a glare, pulling a cold face over his inner heat. Fury wanted business done, apparently. The door opened before he could say anything else.

"Yes?" Tony turned back to the voice and his eyes widened and his jaw dropped. The mask was gone now, and the Captain...was utterly breathtaking. "Can I help you?"

"Oh my god, you can so fucking help me, gorgeous-" Tony started, already trying to step into the room. Fury clapped a hand on his shoulder and yanked back hard. Tony growled. "You'll get the fucking deed first thing Monday, cyclops! The fuck off me! I bought and paid for this!" He couldn't take his eyes off of the blonde in front of him, whose beautiful blue eyes were widening with what he thought was surprise and invitation. He watched raptly as those luscious lips, even plumper and redder than he'd seen at a distance opened and closed, trying to find words. Slowly, the blonde backed away from him and deeper into the room. Progress! Tony wanted to shout but Fury was still holding him. "The fuck! Let go of me!" Tony yanked his shoulder back hard again, growling and wanting.

"Mr. Fury, what's going on?" even the Captain's voice was beautiful, low and sensual, filled with the potential to make so many exquisite sounds as he rode Tony's cock. Tony snarled again as Fury physically hauled him away from his prize.
"Shut the door, Steve. I'll handle this." Steve. The Captain's name was Steve.

Steve. It was going to sound amazing when he screamed that name over and over while he was pounding down into that perfect ass. First thing's first. Deal with this one-eyed asshole, then Steve. Steve's blue eyed gaze was abruptly gone as the door shut in his face.

Tony rounded on Fury. "You going all Enron on me now? The hell is going on?" Fury let go of Tony and crossed his arms.

"You read the contract. Steve is non-sexual. You can't just go in there and have your wedding night!" Fury barked.

Tony rolled his eyes, trying to get himself under control. This was business. Tony Stark didn't have a multi-billion dollar global industry because of poor business practices. He smoothed on a smile, barely leashing his impatience. "You don't seem to realize just how many zeros are behind the value of this property, Fury. Prime Manhattan real estate. They aren't making any more of it. I won this bid." Tony inhaled, forcing his eyes to stay on Fury, no matter how much they wanted to go back to the door. To see Steve.

"Yeah, you did, but you did it under the terms of Steve's contract. You're legally bound, Stark." Smug-ass motherfucker smirked and crossed his arms, knowing that he was right.

Tony snorted. "Semantics. I still get to see him. He's still mine for the night." He pounded on the door again. "And if HE breaks the contract, its all on his ass." And Tony was going to make him break it. The Stark Seduction was legend. No one could resist Tony Stark trying to get them into bed.

Fury shrugged. "True, but you know the rules. You stay here in the building, and he dances for you. That's it. You know I'll know if you do anything else." Fury chuckled then, turning away. "He knows the rules, too, Stark! You just bought yourself the world's most expensive set of blue balls. The Scarlet Room is all ready for you, per usual. You have eight hours." The dark man walked away, laughing and Tony was halfway through spitting out a curse when that voice called out to him.

"Good evening, Mr. Stark. Shall we go to the Scarlet Room together?"

Tony turned and felt his knees lock as The Captain- Steve's- beautiful smile filled his view. Glancing down, Tony saw that he was dressed only in a navy blue silk robe. Perfect.

"Yes. Yes, we fucking shall." Tony grinned like a predator, and grabbed Steve's arm roughly, yanking him along.


3. Apparently tonight was just going to be nothing but nerves for him, Steve thought as he was half-guided, half-dragged along by the man beside him. Tony Stark. Billionaire, genius, playboy, philanthropist Tony Stark. He'd had to go and lock eyes with one of the wealthiest, most influential and famous people on earth. Clint had texted him in the dressing room, filling him in on what had happened, giving him 'mad props' for managing to get a bidding war going on his debut night.

Steve had learned that bids could be placed on dancers, the winner getting the dancer solely alone for the rest of the night. Under whatever terms of the dancer's contract, Steve noted with relief. Clint had made sure to tell him about that part. Steve didn't have to do anything he didn't want to. Which was good because he didn't know enough to give anyone an experience worthy of the money spent. He was still shocked that his dance alone had opened the bids. There should be some pride feelings there, but instead all he could think about was the hot, insistent grip of strong hands on his body as Mr. Stark pulled him into the private elevator that whisked them upstairs to the viewing rooms.

The Scarlet Room was all done in red and gold, fitted with lush leather furniture, a wet bar, a small dance floor complete with lights and sound system. But no bed, which was good, he thought. Steve had gotten the tour of all the rooms, but the Scarlet was his favorite. It was rich and opulent, but not garishly so, situated perfectly for dancing and viewing, but not much else.

Or so he thought.

Mr. Stark pulled him into the Scarlet Room and slammed the door behind him, but not before Steve caught a glimpse of Coulson, one of Fury's bodyguards, taking up position just down the hall. That was a comfort, in case Mr. Stark tried to take liberties Steve wasn't comfortable allowing. There were four panic buttons in the room and he made note again of where each were (the bar, the bathroom, the chaise lounge, and the window). That was the last thing Steve remembered thinking before he felt himself being shoved against the door and kissed.


Holy god....the heat of flesh and the taste of whiskey, the wetness, the scrape of a beard. Steve stiffened and blinked rapidly as he tried to process the sensations. He'd never been kissed by another man before, and it was...exhilarating, he realized as his heartbeat began to race. A lick of Mr. Stark's tongue was against his lips, Steve registered Mr. Stark whispering against him.
"Yeah, c'mon, kiss me..."

The heated tone sent shivers through his body and Steve felt his cock stirring. Mr. Stark must've felt it, too because he pressed his hips to Steve's and rocked slowly, trying to get his tongue into Steve's mouth. "That's right, open for me..."

For an instant, Steve did, a flick of his tongue against Mr. Stark's. The sensation was amazing, purely erotic, blood rushing to his cock. His brain was trying to say something and Steve pulled back his tongue, blinking fast through a haze as Mr. Stark made a noise of protest.

Steve wasn't a prostitute. He wasn't going to have sex with Mr. Stark. Wasn't going to be kissing this delicious kiss with a man who had bought and paid for the time to watch Steve dance.

Carefully, he put his hands up onto Mr. Stark's shoulders and pressed back gently, pulling his mouth away over another sound of protest.

"Oh, no kissing on the mouth, is that it? Just like Pretty Woman. Classy." The sarcastic tone was rough edged and needy, and Steve tried to smile, but Mr. Stark had pressed his mouth down to Steve's neck and was licking, greedy. The feel of it was making Steve's resolve grow fogged and weak. "That's just fine, gorgeous, I'll kiss everywhere else instead." Hands were grasping at his belt robe and Steve panicked. He pushed back harder and stepped to the side, letting Mr. Stark lurch into the door. "Hey! What the fuck, Cap?" Mr. Stark sounded angry now, and Steve backed away into the room towards the dance floor. The man turned, his dark eyes hungry and following Steve's every move. It was....thrilling, Steve realized. The rush that he'd felt when the lights were on his cock returned, stronger, knowing that Mr. Stark wanted Steve that way. Wanted him....sexually.

Trying to keep his voice calm and smooth, Steve toyed with the belt of his robe. "You paid for me to dance for you, Mr. Stark. My contract is non-sexual." Good, his voice was steady at least.

"Mr. Stark was my father, Spangles." came the harsh reply, "And I'm not him. You call me Tony." Mr- Tony, was stalking towards him, making Steve back further away, until Steve's back was against the other wall. Tony braced an arm to either side of his shoulders, shorter than Steve by a few inches, but so full of power and confidence that Steve felt smaller. " 'Mr. Stark' can be our safeword, okay gorgeous?" Tony grinned and Steve's breath caught at the lust that was expressed just in the curl of his lips.

Steve was grasping for a line now, quickly finding himself out of his depth. What could he say now? "Our contract is non-sexual, Tony." He repeated, but only received an approving groan at the use of his name and a hand rubbed down his arm. "Would you like me to dance for you?" Steve felt his breath rushing out as Tony pressed closer, leaning his head in to lick at Steve's neck again.

"Do you know how to 'dance', gorgeous?" Tony murmured, licking a strip up a line of nerves that had Steve gasping and his cock rising fast.

"Of course I do- I-"

"Yeah, you can move your beautiful ass really sweetly on stage." Tony laughed low and soft and brushed a hand down Steve's robed chest, fingertip catching lightly on his nipple. Steve grunted and bucked involuntarily, and felt Tony grin against his Adam's apple. Another light touch at his clothed nipple and Steve gasped again, bucking, a short, surprised sound as his cock rubbed against Tony's own answering hardness. Only then did Steve realize the innuendo. God, he was so out of his league! Tony ground a little harder, murmuring, "But have you ever 'danced' with another man, before?"

"No, I haven't-" was out of his mouth before he could stop it. "Mr. Stark, please."

Tony froze and growled, frustration escaping in a harsh sigh that burned over Steve's exposed collarbones. Slowly, Tony backed away. "Jesus Christ, go over there and fucking dance for me." He turned away, and Steve fought the sudden urge to apologize. The loss of heated touches and sensations was ....awful.

Instead, he swallowed and squared his shoulders, walking over to the dance floor. It was small, lightly textured marble squares to prevent slipping, framed by three waist high railings in brass, each corner bolted to a pole. "Any requests?" He tried to joke as Tony threw himself into the sprawling leather sofa situated in front of the floor.

"Get me a double scotch. I'm thinking." Tony huffed, rubbing his crotch and not bothering to hide it. Steve blushed, swallowing again. The memory of feeling their hardness rubbing was making it hard to think. In a moment, he had Tony's drink ready, moving over to hand it to him. The dark haired man didn't take it, just pointed to the side table. Steve set it down and moved back to the dance floor.

He grabbed for the belt of his robe, meaning to take it off before beginning, but Tony called out for him to stop.

"Leave it on....and then strip it off for me." Tony's voice dripped with renewed lust, and Steve shivered. "I've got a song." He paused, looking thoughtful...and then he smiled wickedly. "And a request." He watched as Tony shifted over to the side table, which had a computer interface display on top. Picking up the scotch and sipping with one hand, Tony tapped in the song request with the other. Before he pressed play, Tony's gaze leveled on him and Steve felt dismay blended with lust as his body began to tremble.

"Tony," Steve started.

"I know, I know. Non-sexual." Tony nodded, talking right over him. "Don't worry, I'll behave. My request..." Tony gestured at the belt of Steve's robe. "Take that, and blindfold yourself with it." The predatory grin returned, "And then dance for me." Steve tried to talk again, but Tony plowed right over him, "I promise, no touchy! Just use the safe word if you panic, Captain." Winking, Tony settled back onto the couch, and left a hand poised over the start queue.

Steve nodded, inhaling deeply. He could do this. Panic buttons, body guards, safe words. He could do this. Undoing his belt under Tony's greedy gaze, Steve lifted it to his eyes and tied it snugly around his head. The world went dark, a draft flitted up the exposed front of his body, and over a low murmur of approval...the music began to play.


4. A haunting Japanese flute, mixed with chanting voices and breathy vocals all over a thumping bass filled the room. Tony tried to tamp down his lust, but it was getting literally harder and harder. His cock had never been this hard, he swore. Still grazing a palm over his crotch, teasing and edging himself, he fixed his attention on Steve, in the middle of the dance floor.

The blonde had tipped his head back, swaying to the music. He didn't know the song, that was obvious, but he moved with it anyway, improvising. Tony's favorite kind of dance. Choreography was okay for performance, but heat of the moment inspirations were much more fun.

Like the blindfold idea. Tony patted himself on the back. Without sight, Steve seemed to relax a little more, although he was more wary of his surroundings, reaching out to touch for the railings and poles. Tony called out to him to start pulling down his robe, aching to see that beautiful body again. The music swelled louder and Tony groaned as the blue silk slid down Steve's beautiful skin, caressing it the way Tony wanted to. With his tongue. All in good time, though, he reminded himself. He had eight hours to seduce this jewel. And even if he didn't succeed (which he knew he was going to), Tony didn't mind the idea of taking longer.

Especially since he now knew Steve was a virgin.

That thought made his cock spurt a little, and he gripped the base through his pants, trying to stop from bucking into the sound of the beat. He'd get himself off before he was ready.

Steve was a virgin. It was written all over him, even if he hadn't betrayed it with the actual words. Hell, Tony wondered if he'd even been with a woman! Heady thoughts. Orgasm inducing thoughts. He called out another command to Steve, to dip lower into his body and thrust his hips more. Another idea came to Tony's mind and he bit down to keep from groaning aloud and spooking Steve.

Quietly he stood up and unzipped his pants, freeing his cock. He didn't fist himself, he just touched the dripping tip lightly, working the edging. He called out again, "In time with the beat, thrust your hips in little that..." Tony felt his whole body clench as Steve obeyed easily. That gorgeous muscled body was built for sex.

Rubbing his precome over the slit, he called out command after command, guiding Steve's body into the motions of sex, thrusting, grinding, short quick pumps of his hips that were perfect for finding that sweet spot deep inside a man's body, working it to the breaking point. "Reach out and grab the pole, now...slide your you were stroking your cock." Tony had been watching for any sign of getting past Steve's calm center. He was remarkable in that aspect, resisting Tony's advances like he had. Such a good little virgin. All the better to scream for him when Tony-

Tony's cock spurted again as he caught sight of something glorious.

Steve was fully erect and the tip of his cock was barely concealed under his thong. The blue satin was dark with wet, completely outlining the length and ...oh fucking god the GIRTH, and Tony saw a rosy flush spreading over Steve's entire body as he danced. The song was winding down and Tony cursed silently, rushing over to queue it up again, crossfading it to not lose a moment of the driving beat. Grinning, Tony decided to see just how far he could push Steve.

"Wrap your leg around the pole now, straddle the railing to the side. Spread wide for me." Steve obeyed, the motion causing the head of his cock to slip free of the top of his thong. It was dark and flushed and dripping, Tony's mouth watered, tongue flicking out into the air wanting to lick and suck it. Tony almost came as he watched Steve nervously bite down on his lower lip, wanting to bite there too, bite and lick and suck and goddamnit he was gonna fucking come just from watching this, he was sure. "Ride that railing...stroke yourself against the pole..." He breathed, just loud enough for Steve to hear. Steve's lips pressed together, looking to form the word "Mister" and Tony held his breath, desperate for Steve to NOT say those now-hated safewords.

Instead, Steve swallowed hard and Tony wanted to scream in triumph as his jaw bunched exquisitely and Steve began thrusting up against the brass pole. His body arched back and a low, broken moan escaped him. Tony's knees buckled and he dropped to the floor fisting his cock tightly and pumping, watching the hottest thing he'd ever seen. " it.....make yourself come." Tony grated as he pumped his cock harder, Steve grinding wildly now against the pole. Moan after moan escaped Steve's lips and Tony growled encouragement, half crawling forward on his knees towards Steve as he stroked. "Feels so're so fucking gorgeous, Steve. Oh, wow... yeah! Ohhnnn god.... Steve fucking come...come for me! NOW!" Tony was yelling over the music now, hips bucking his cock frantically into his fist as Steve arched hard against the pole one last time, a high keening wail filling the air. He'd never heard a more erotic sound.

Tony's eyes locked on Steve's cock tip as it erupted, quivering and shooting hard up over the sculpted muscles, dripping pearly white down the dark blue satin. A noise like a wounded animal orgasming in a cathedral tore from Tony's body and he followed, shooting his come hard onto the floor.

Panting uncontrollably, feeling like he was dying and flying at the same time, Tony struggled to sit upright on his knees. Steve was barely hanging on to the pole, his whole body shaking and breathing like he'd just run a marathon. His head was against the pole, still blindfolded, sweat dripping from his body, streaked with come. Tony quickly dug his phone out his pocket and with shaking hands snapped a picture. Steve was absolutely perfect.

"T-Tony?" Steve's voice quavered and the sound made Tony's chest tighten. It was a vulnerable sound, sweet and tremulous and god Tony wished there was a bed here to pull Steve in to and curl up and cuddle -

The fuck.

Tony Stark did Not. Cuddle. His. Conquests.

But....Steve wasn't technically conquered yet, was he? The perfect unicorn seal was still on his ass and Tony still hungered for it. So let the seduction continue. Standing on shaky legs, he staggered over to where Steve still hung obediently on the railing. Shushing him gently when he started at Tony's touch, Tony reached up and slipped off the blindfold, dropping it to the ground, unaccountably eager to see those incredible azure eyes again. Steve's come was streaked and smeared over the pole and his own chest and Tony barely resisted the urge to bend and lick it all up. Billionaire, genius, cumslut, whatever, he liked it. Especially when it came out of such a beautiful body-

"Tony, my leg is cramped." Steve whimpered, and Tony actually started in surprise by automatically moving to help him down, rubbing over the skin of his thigh gently. It wasn't meant to be a sexual touch, but Tony felt Steve stiffen in response. "Shhh...its all right, just trying to help you now." Tony said quietly, meaning it. The pair hobbled over to the couch, and Steve sank down with a quiet groan, rubbing his thigh. He was blushing, keeping his eyes averted from Tony. "Sorry about that," he said, tone embarrassed.

Tony chuckled, "No, no, no. You are waaaaay too gorgeous to pull that puppy dog look with me. Seriously, its just too cute now. That was perfect. You're perfect." Tony curled an arm around Steve's shoulders, gently pressing back, asking for permission to draw them down to lay on the couch. Steve leaned into Tony's body and allowed it. Satisfaction swam through Tony's blood, now that the edge of his lust had been taken off, he could go about the rest of the seduction more easily. Yawning, he brushed his lips over Steve's ear, enjoying the larger man's shiver. "C'mon, you're just fine. Everything's fine."

He felt sleepy. Well duh, he'd just come harder than he ever had in his life, and he wasn't even inside someone. That takes its toll. Struggling to sit up, he checked the clock on the table display. They'd been in here less than an hour. Still seven hours plus left to bag him.

Tony ignored the twist in his gut at that crude thought, looking down at Steve dozing beside him, face curled into his shoulder. A different sort of warmth spread through his body and Tony drew him closer. A protesting murmur arose, and Tony shushed him. "An hour's nap, gorgeous. Then we're back on schedule." He smiled, brushing a soft kiss into blonde hair, before sleep claimed him.


5. Steve woke up disoriented and itchy. Well, the skin on his chest felt itchy. Looking down and seeing the dried mess there, he understood why. And everything that had happened came flooding back into his awareness, making him sit bolt upright. Rubbing his eyes, he felt Tony's body stirring next to him.

"S'fuck...time, going...what?" Tony mumbled, slowly sitting up. He slid a strong, calloused hand up Steve's back, and the sensation was wonderful. Stifling a moan, he stood and stretched instead. Glancing over at the windows, he saw daylight filtering in through the curtains. The clock confirmed it. They'd been asleep for seven and a half hours.

"Time is it...?" The darker man slung himself over the arm of the couch and squinted at the display.

"Good morning, Tony." Steve said pleasantly, as he retrieved his robe and the belt and slipped them on, feeling a bit more settled now that he was covered. He still couldn't believe what he'd done last night, and didn't know if he was more surprised that he felt no shame over it, or that he'd actually enjoyed himself.

The instant that the blindfolded covered him, it was as if he'd lost his inhibitions. Everything his body experienced had intensified. The sensations of movement, the sound of the music, of Tony's voice...oh god, his voice. Steve swallowed hard, body stirring at that memory. He had called out and told him how to move, what to do. It had been...liberating...and the pleasure that had followed...well, he definitely was into men.

A loud shout behind him made him jump and turn around, eyes darting all over to see what the problem was. Tony was glaring at the time display like it had just taken over one of his companies.

"What's wrong?" Steve wrapped his arms around his middle, feeling suddenly self-conscious. He didn't think he'd done anything wrong, but this was all so new...

Tony whirled on him, eyes hungry like the had been last night before...before they'd both come so hard. Steve just spotted the spill of come on the floor. Pride swelled him, he'd made Tony do that. The pride suddenly turned to something else as Tony rushed him, wrapping his arms around him, sliding his hands up into his hair, pulling him in for a deep kiss.

"Mmmmnnhh...." Steve didn't protest this time, what was the point? He melted into the kiss, wrapping himself around Tony just as tightly. He let Tony lead, following the movements of lips and tongue, learning what motions made Tony gasp and sigh.

Several minutes later, Steve felt a hard thrust against his hip, and responded with one of his own. As they kissed, they ground their covered erections together, Tony dragging them down onto the couch, covering Steve with his body.

"Yes, please...god let there have been a glitch in the system ....all their clocks stopped...Didn't think to hack that...was trying to be good...fuck is" Tony was grating into Steve's shoulder, pulling open his robe and reaching down to cup Steve through his cum-stiff satin thong. Steve yelled out and bucked, and the answering moaning sigh and sucking kiss at his neck was incredible. Tony rutted against his thigh, hard and fast, almost desperate. "Please...please...oh yeah" Tony panted hotly. "Just a little-"

A loud, insistent banging sounded on the door.

"FUUUUCK!" Tony bellowed, punching a fist sideways into the back of the couch. Steve blinked a minute before it registered what Tony was doing.

Tony had only paid for eight hours of Steve. The time was up. He had been trying to get off one last time. Steve didn't know what to do with that thought. Did it mean that Steve was only as good as Tony's money allowed it? Did it mean that he was actually going to be hurt by Tony leaving him this morning? Answers eluded him, chased away by Tony's mouth on his skin. He bit his lip and whined, his own erection grown painfully stiff. A few quick strokes...for both of them.

"Tony, please..." Steve whispered, begging softly, hating the desperate edge to his voice. "I need..."

"Shh...I know, beautiful. I'll take care of you." Tony whispered back, shoving his hand under Steve's thong. The banging on the door sounded again. "Such good care...uhnn yeah...come quick for me, darling." Tony muttered, fisting Steve's length and pumping hard and fast. Steve arched and bucked as Tony worked him and whispered hot dirty things in his ear until Steve bit down into Tony's shoulder and spurted hard. He felt Tony lift his head, to watch him come? Heard whispered praise, almost sounding lovingly pleased. Steve's eyes were shut, he whimpered when Tony's touch left him, sensing motion, and a satisfied sound.

Steve's eyes fluttered open and he blinked in surprise to see Tony sucking his come off of his fingers eagerly. "Breakfast of champions, gorgeous." He winked on a lick and Steve smiled stupidly, then started. "But you-!" He reached down for Tony's cock, feeling a sudden pang at leaving Tony unsatisfied.

The banging was louder, the door actually jumping on its hinges. "Stark! Time's up!" Coulson's voice called from behind the door.

Steve was still trying to get his hands into Tony's pants to help him get off, but Tony was already sitting up and straightening his clothing. When Steve protested, Tony just gently took his hand and kissed it, the first gentlemanly gesture Steve had seen from him. " time, gorgeous." then winked at him. Steve flushed at the promise.

"Calm your tits, Coulson, I'm done!" Tony hollered as the lock rattled on the door, swinging open to admit the shorter man. In a dark suit and sunglasses, he looked around the room briefly, and then over to Steve with an inquiring head tilt. Steve nodded, indicating he was fine and stood up, re-belting his robe over the latest white wash, blushing slightly.

Tony had already collected himself, looking every inch the wealthy playboy he was (albeit slightly rumpled), pulling a pair of sunglasses of his own out and putting them on. With a quick kiss on Steve's cheek and a possessive squeeze on his ass, Tony didn't say another word and strolled out the door, without so much as a look back.

Coulson looked at Steve again, as if worried that he'd not spoken because Tony was still in the room. Steve nodded, he really was fine. He thought...


6. Tony stormed up to Fury's personal suite on the top floors of the building. He growled when the elevator beeped that he needed a pass code for access. Pulling out his cell phone, he quickly hacked the system and gained entrance. He could've hacked it last night, reset the clocks, given himself as much time as he could with Steve. It was a measure of how much Steve had scrambled his usual brilliance that Tony hadn't even considered it.

"FURY!" He bellowed, standing there in the main room like he owned the place. Which he did now, so that made this perfectly fine in his book.

A few minutes later, Fury strolled out of one of the rooms, looking cool and collected, a small knowing smile on his face. "Have a good time, Stark?"

Tony ground his teeth. He wouldn't put it past this jackhole to have drugged Tony's booze, making him sleep through the hours he paid for. The hours he'd planned to seduce Steve into sex. Instead, he'd come once (powerfully, the hardest ever), fallen asleep and even though it'd been the best seven hours sleep he'd had in a long, long time, he felt cheated. Not because he'd been left with a raging cockstand at the end, but because he'd wanted to pleasure Steve over and over again. Get him whimpering and needy and pleading like had only a few minutes ago. The sound of Steve coming was a gut-punch every time Tony thought of it, a shot of pleasure like heroin. Part of his mind had already worked through the hack to get into Mon Coeur's surveillance system to see if it had been recorded.

Cock still half-hard in his pants, the pilot was lit and he burned for more of Steve's looks, his smiles and touches, his goddamn drugging kisses and noises. Those noises- another gut-punch of pleasure. He wanted to make it so Steve couldn't see unicorns anymore. Steve's virginity made for a huge star-shaped target on his ass, and the moment Tony thought of anyone else trying to steal that from him, a wave of jealousy scorched through him so fiercely that it took his breath away.

"How much to make Steve mine, exclusively?"



7. Steve was back in his apartment, and had just gotten out of the shower when he heard his phone go off with a text message. It was from Clint, who was asking how his night went. Steve smiled and just answered that it was "good, thanks" and left it at that. He didn't like kissing and telling and Clint could be a horrible gossip.

A few minutes later, his phone buzzed again, and Steve thought it was probably Clint with a smart-assed reply. Instead, it was from a number he didn't recognize. But when he opened it, a bigger smile spread over his face.

-Good morning, gorgeous.

Tony. It had to be. An unexpected wave of pleasure rolled over him, and he was halfway through a reply before it occurred to him that he didn't know what the protocol was talking to clients outside of paid time. Frowning, he fired off a quick text to Clint asking what to do. He wanted to reply to Tony's text, but he didn't want to get into trouble either.

His phone buzzed back almost as soon as he sent off the text to Clint. Another one from Tony.

-Are you working tonight?

Biting his lip, he worried about what to do. Clint hadn't answered him yet, but he really didn't want to leave Tony hanging.

Wait. How had Tony gotten his phone number? It wasn't information that Fury gave out to clients. They were only supposed to have contact at Mon Coeur. Safety reasons, Fury had said. Which Steve supposed answered his question about texting Tony back.

Another text from Tony buzzed in.

-I want to see you again.
Steve stopped short. This was stupid. Of course, Tony only wanted sex, or whatever he could get from Steve. Physical pleasure. Steve sighed, and texted back, figuring if it was just about work hours, then it would be okay.

-Yes. I'm working tonight. Fury has my performance time on the website.

There, Tony could contract with Fury and arrange payments and whatever else Fury did to make business happen. Steve tried not to feel...cheapened by that thought, but it was his job, and this is what his job entailed. He was just entertainment to Tony. To Mr. Stark. The internet made it very clear what the man's lifestyle was like. Steve was just another notch in the bedpost.

Except he wasn't. Steve straightened, feeling proud of the fact that he'd hung on to his -well, his virtue, when the world-famous playboy Tony Stark was literally seducing the come out of his cock. So Steve still had that much self-respect. And as long as he had that, then he could do this.

The phone buzzed again.

-Fury didn't tell you?

Steve frowned at the phone, answering without thinking.
-Tell me what?

He waited anxiously for the reply, wondering what the hell was going on. He jumped a little when the phone buzzed again.

-You're mine. Exclusively.

Steve dropped the phone, barely catching it before it hit the floor. His fingers were fumbling for the contacts list, scrolling fast for Fury's number and dialing it. Fury's assistant, Maria, answered. "Maria, its Steve."

"Oh, hello Steve. I guess you found out." Her annoyed tone suggested that Tony was not to have said anything. "You better come in and speak to Fury."

"I'll be there in half an hour." Steve answered curtly, grabbing his coat.

What the hell had he gotten himself into?


8. Tony paced his office suite restlessly, glancing out the panoramic windows to see snow drifting down from a gray sky. He had ignored the continual summons from his PA, Pepper, to go to meetings all day today. Meetings sucked in general, but when Tony was focused on something completely, like a new prototype for a semi-sentient floor vacuum, a new variant on green arc-reactor technology, or seducing virgins, Tony was pretty much useless to the talking heads anyway. Pepper could handle them better without him.

He walked over to the bar and poured himself two fingers of scotch, tossing it back in two swallows. The burn didn't do much for him, it usually didn't until he was into his second bottle. Sorely tempting, but Tony didn't want to be wrecked when he saw Steve again tonight. The man hadn't returned his texts, and Tony had resisted sending any more. Tony Stark did not stoop to whine/beg texts like a fucking teenager. Steve was probably trying to figure out what to do with the news that he was now Tony's private dancer. Tony had paid Fury an obscene amount of money for the rights to Steve at Mon Coeur. A large chunk went to Steve, of course, but Fury could probably buy a couple of small islands in the St. Lawrence river with what Tony had dished out.

And with no negotiation. That's how desperate Tony was for Steve. And he hated it. It had been less than twenty four hours since he'd first laid eyes on Steve, and Tony had been reduced to obsession. He was sure that as soon as he popped Steve's cherry, however, that the obsession would die. It had to. Its how it always happened. Tony would focus on one thing for a short period of time until he got bored with it, and then on to the next thrill.

Tony pulled up the picture he had taken of Steve last night, displaying it on the large holo-screen above his desk. Tony's body heated and hardened instantly, his photographic memory supplying every detail of their time together. The taste of his lips, the feel of his cock in his hand, the sounds...god. The hack of Mon Coeur had proven fruitless, there were no recordings. Fury actually respected his people, then, which surprised him. Didn't matter, Tony was just going to get Steve to do it all again, and record every second of it.

Yeah, Steve was the current thrill. So what if Tony had paid more money than the GDP of most small nations to get into Steve's fuckbucket? It was going to be deflowering on an epic scale, and Tony would not stop until he'd achieved his goal.
And then on to the next thing.

Tony downed another drink, and tried not to think about the way Steve's eyes had looked when he'd left him this morning. Instead, he called up several lower-level assistants and set them to work on several sets of logistical plans...

Steve wouldn't be able to resist him.


9. Steve paced Fury's office floor endlessly. The man loved to keep people waiting apparently. When he'd arrived at the Mon Coeur offices, Maria just told him to wait until Fury called for him.

That'd been half an hour ago.

In the interim, Steve's phone had been buzzing non-stop. He'd filled Clint in on everything, and Clint had given his opinion on the situation. In detail. And essentially what it boiled down to was:

Take Stark for everything you can get.

Clint figured that since he was being paid to entertain Stark exclusively now, to take advantage of the wealthy man. Maybe even get his art school paid in full, or get a car or a bigger apartment.

Steve had politely at first, then insistently, then downright rudely disagreed, since Clint couldn't seem to shut up about it.

It wasn't right to do those sorts of things! He was being paid to dance for Tony- Mr. Stark, he reminded himself harshly, and that was it! Last night when they were together, Tony had gotten the better of him, drawn him in with the newness and excitement of the situation. As good as it had felt, it was still a paid transaction. And Steve would only accept payment for services rendered. And he'd signed a contract, stating it was all completely non-sexual. Mr. Stark could observe his body, derive whatever pleasure he could from that activity alone, and that was it.

Steve hated that he couldn't completely convince himself of that entire statement.

No matter what he tried, Steve couldn't stop thinking about Tony- Mr. Stark-. Every kiss, every touch and sound had been burned into his mind and it was surely going to drive him crazy with knowing that pleasure like that existed. He'd been tapped with a drug, and now Steve wanted more.

But he had to say no. He had to! Otherwise, what sort of person would he be?

Clint had argued about the virtues of the world's oldest profession, and Steve couldn't really disagree, when it was applied to people other than himself. That was a choice for adults. And the law, to a degree, yes, but still.

Steve, however, had been raised to the tune of 'a honest day's work for an honest day's pay.' It wasn't right that he sleep his way to the top. The top of what, he didn't know, but he did know that if he gave up his sexual rights for payment, well, then he didn't really have much else to his name. He'd earn his money like his contract stated, or he'd....he'd walk away.

He tried to cling to that thought as Maria finally called him into Fury's office.

"Mr. Fury," Steve started, but Fury held up one had to stop him, and held out something to him with the other."What is-"

"Its your paycheck, Rogers."

Steve blinked, and slowly took the piece of paper from Fury's hand. He held it up, squinted at it, turned it over, and over upright again, slowly shaking his head. "This can't be right, Mr. Fury." He held it out to try and hand it back.

"Its exactly right, Steve." Fury crossed his arms and stared at him with that one glinting eye.

Steve felt the world tilt and sat down hard in one of the leather office chairs. There were six figures on this check. Six. That was more money than he'd ever earned in his lifetime. Or ever earn in the rest of his lifetime. Several lifetimes.

"How did- I mean- what?" Although he already knew the answer.


Steve tried not to swallow audibly when he heard the name.

"He paid for your rights here. You're exclusive to him now." Fury strolled over to the window, gazing out, and looking extremely pleased with himself.

Steve closed his eyes, and exhaled forcefully. "And what does that mean, exactly?"

"It means that you're dancing for his eyes only. You don't dance on stage, you don't dance privately for other clients, unless Stark allows it. You only dance for him here at Mon Coeur, though, he doesn't have the rights to you anywhere else in the world." Well that was some relief there, Steve sighed. Fury glanced over and answered the next question on Steve's lips. "And its still on the terms of your original contract. 'Non-sexual.' " Fury made quotation fingers and a face that said he didn't believe that for a second.

Jaw bunching in determination, Steve decided that he wasn't going to explain himself to Fury. He was his own conscience and his own moral compass. He wasn't selling his body to Tony Stark. He'd merely parade it around naked for him.
And that was that.

Or so he thought...

Leaving the office, he was about to turn and head for the subway to go back to his apartment, when a shiny dark town car pulled up to the curb. He didn't think anything of it until the driver got out and called his name.

"Uh, yeah. That's me. What do you want?" He tugged his coat collar up around his ears, breath steaming in the freezing air.

The driver smiled politely, "Tony Stark sent this for you." He gestured to the car, a fine new model Mercedes. "I'm your new chauffeur."

Steve just gaped.

The driver just stood there looking at him, still smiling politely.

Steve shook his head. "No, no thanks. I'm good."

The driver frowned, "But, Mr. Rogers, Mr. Stark insisted-"

Steve cut him off, trying to remain polite, remembering that this was just a job for the driver. "I know, I'm sorry. I'm not interested. Just go back and tell him I said 'no thanks.'" Steve turned on his heel and headed for the subway, ignoring the driver calling after him, trying not to run for the underground entrance.

As he rode towards his home, he tried to think of what the car meant. Did Tony, dammit, did Mr. Stark think he had bought Steve like a pet? Fury had said Tony- dammit! Mr. Stark did not have rights to him outside of Mon Coeur. So what the hell was going on? He pulled out his phone, and started typing out a text to Ton- oh the hell with it, to Tony. 'Mr. Stark' apparently only worked as a safeword when they were together in the same room, not in Steve's own head. Crap.

Just as he was about to press the send button on the text, one buzzed into his phone. Of course, it was Tony.

-What's wrong, gorgeous? Didn't like the car? I can get you whatever you want. Any color you want.

Steve sighed, frustrated, editing the draft of the text he'd been about to send. -No, the car was beautiful. Thank you, but no thanks. Its too much to accept. I don't need it. He sent it as he was getting off at his stop. The phone buzzed in his hand as he emerged onto the street.

-Seriously? You want to ride that piss-stink underground? Good to know you like it dirty, gorgeous.

What the hell? Steve was at a loss as to how to answer that. His phone buzzed again while he was trying to think of a reply.

-Right, not dirty. Not you, not possible, is it? No car, got it. I suppose you're too good for the helicopter then? ;)

This was just - what? He was joking-

-No, I'm not joking. And no, I'm not reading your mind. I can just picture your gorgeous face while you read what I'm telling you. I bought your rights, you're mine exclusively, and I take care of what's mine.

Steve was stabbing his fingers furiously into the keypad, hoping that another text wouldn't come in, so he could get a word- a text- in edgewise. Sure enough, the phone buzzed again, but Steve ignored it, sending his reply.

The phone remained quiet for the next few minutes, and Steve read the text he'd missed while typing his reply to Tony.

-Shit, that sounded bad. Can I start over? You're a decent person, you'll let me start over. 'Do-over', gimme a do-over!

Steve groaned. That was as close to an apology that he'd ever expect out of a person like Tony. His phone buzzed again.
It was from a new number, ID'd as Maria Hill, Fury's assistant.

-Mr. Stark has requested you tonight. You'll be in the Scarlet Room for him at 9:00pm. dressed as the Captain.

Now a sigh passed his lips. He felt like a jerk for sending Tony that text now, after Tony had tried to, well, hell Steve didn't know what the hell Tony was going for. It was unnerving and thrilling and insane, and ...and contracted. The phone remained silent, it seemed Tony wasn't going to send him any more texts. The thought left him feeling a little hollow. But...

The folded check in his pocket came out and Steve looked at it again. He did say he was going to give Mr. Stark (he had to be Mr. Stark from now on, he really did.) his money's worth.

Before heading home, he detoured to his bank and deposited the check. No going back now. Squaring his shoulders, he marched himself back to his apartment to get a workout in before tonight, and get Clint to teach him a few more tricks.

Steve was going to earn every last penny



10. As he waited for Steve to arrive, Tony flicked through several screens on his tablet, rereading for what was probably the thousandth time Steve's personal information. Child's play to hack the deep web and get every last detail on him. He'd memorized everything the first time he'd read it, but Tony couldn't help it. There had to be something else in there about Steve, something he'd missed.

When Steve had refused the car, Tony had laughed out loud in surprise, causing several directors to shoot obtuse dirty looks at him while another one droned on about acquiring property in Taiwan. Tony spoke up briefly and vetoed the idea, insisting that Stark Industries build its new factories right here on American soil, giving back to the people and helping the economy out. That was all it took, and the votes came in to kill the international build. With that out of the way, Tony excused himself (just walked out of the room) and headed for his office, firing off the texts to Steve. Again, hacking- it hadn't been anything to get Steve's number.

Tony was sure that Steve, sweet and fresh as he was to this game, would have accepted the car like a swooning princess. They usually did, and that's when Tony's boredom would begin creeping in. People were so predictable when it came to money. A few more expensive gifts later, Tony would've found Steve was just like everyone else. And his obsession would die a quick, painless death.

Except apparently, Steve wasn't like everyone else.

And that was crack to a man like Tony.

Looking down at the tablet blankly, he saw the picture of Steve's life. Born and raised in Brooklyn, father was listed on the birth cert, but wasn't around. Single, hard-working Catholic mother, two, sometimes three jobs to support her son. Steve himself, now 28, born on the Fourth of July, no less. As a child, lots of medical visits, medical bills. Frowning, Tony quickly hacked for the details on that. Asthma, allergies, weak physical prowess. Nothing like he was now. Tony noted that the medical visits seemed to drop off after Steve hit puberty. Mother had passed away, leaving literally nothing in the will. Steve had worked several jobs since, minimum-wage, paying his way through art school, sometimes month to month, racking up student loan debt.

Tony had already paid the remainder of Steve's school tuitions until he will have graduated with a full masters in Art History and Education. Tony had never really considered art as anything other than a financial investment. Perhaps he'd get Steve's opinion on some of the renowned Stark collections...

The thought ended abruptly. Steve was going to be pissed when he found out Tony had paid for his school. He smirked. Or maybe he wouldn't. Everybody had a price, that was one thing he'd learned in all his years. And once Tony discovered what the price was, and paid it, people would bend over backwards for him and give him whatever he wanted in exchange. And then Tony would be found right, Steve would be just like everybody else. And that worked in Tony's favor.

With that thought in mind, he closed the tablet windows and sat down to wait. It was exactly 9:00 pm. and Steve-

The door clicked open, and The Captain strode into the room.

Steve of course, would be perfectly punctual, too.

Tony leaned back on the couch before the dance floor and smirked, waiting silently. Steve smiled politely at him and tipped his cowboy hat in greeting. Oh how adorably corny, Tony couldn't help it when his smirk turned into a grin.

"Good evening, Mr-"

"You call me Mr. Stark again, and I swear I will make you wear a cheerleader outfit the next time you dance for me." Tony growled. He hated being called Mr. Stark. Hated anything that reminded him of his father. He inwardly winced as the smile fell off of Steve's face, nodding in acknowledgement. "We'll keep it as a safeword." Steve nodded again. It was a fitting safe word, Tony reasoned. Nothing killed his moods faster than thinking of his asshole old man.

"Sorry- Tony." Steve murmured, shifting awkwardly. Tony noticed immediately, it was hard not to notice anything about the exquisite specimen in front of him. It was as if a glimpse of who he was outside these walls had flashed through the facade and Tony found himself wanting to see more.

He gestured to the dance floor. "Forget it. Dance for me. I want the debut number, first." Steve nodded, a small smile returning, and Tony felt a surge of pleasure at it. Non-sexual pleasure. It just felt good to see Steve smile at him.


Tapping out the queue of the playlist and hitting the play button, Tony sat back as Steve took his place on the small dance floor and began moving. He'd worked on this playlist at length, ironing out the whole evening's course of events. First, get Steve comfortable around him...

It became obvious that Steve was doing just that as he danced. The movements were more fluid, relaxed and more sensual than the first time Tony had seen him do this. Well, practice made perfect, didn't it? He rubbed a hand down his face as Steve began to shed his clothes, swallowing hard and getting hard as every part of him became exposed to Tony's view.

Nobody should be so beautiful, Tony mused, watching enraptured as Steve spun and showed the flexing muscles of his ass. It almost made Tony feel...inadequate. His hand lifted to his chest, absently rubbing at the mass of scar tissue that surrounded the device in his sternum. It kept him alive, it was a piece of his genius. And he hated it. He would never show it to anyone, especially Steve, he decided, unable to stomach the look of disgust he would surely give Tony.

He dropped his hand and clenched it into a fist as Steve moved into the final few moves, the arc reactor forgotten as Tony held his breath, waiting, leaning forward slowly as Steve removed his thong and turned.

A hot sigh escaped his lips involuntarily as Steve's glorious cock came into view. Tony swore that it twitched in reaction and his mouth watered. He'd fantasized about sucking that cock until Steve screamed and came down his throat...

The cowboy hat abruptly blocked his view and Tony growled as Steve bucked his hips slowly at the end of the song. Looking up, Tony saw Steve giving him a playful curl of lips, blue eyes sparking behind the mask. "Tease." Tony muttered, but secretly pleased at the challenge. The man had said Tony would get his money's worth.

The music kept playing moving into another song, a faster tempo now, and Steve flowed into it, using the cowboy hat as a moving prop, giving Tony peekaboo flashes and rubbing it suggestively over his hips. He even- oh he was not....Tony laughed softly as Steve held onto the brim with both hands and thrust his hips like he was fucking the hat. Ohhhhh, this was gonna be so much fun.

The evening wore on, and Steve danced for him for almost two hours straight, the music getting faster and faster. He kept pace, working every last muscle, Tony noted, seeing every single one dripping with sweat. The mask had begun to slip, the leather sliding over the sweat soaked brow. Steve's blonde hair flopped down onto his forehead, just long enough to fist his hands in.

Tony's erection was raging and it was painful every time he shifted. He stole quick little thrusts of his hips when Steve turned away, always a fan of edging his pleasure. Soon...Tony smiled wickedly as the song changed into the turning point of the night.

The tempo dropped and it was a slow, sensual hard rock ballad with an edgy bass that shook the windows. Steve took a minute to adjust the mask, but Tony stopped him.

"Take it off." Steve paused and Tony thought he'd refuse. But then Steve nodded slowly, and drew it off over his head in one smooth movement, tossing it onto Tony's lap. Tony snatched it and held it tightly, rubbing his thumb over the smooth leather, slick with Steve's sweat. "Loose the hat." Tony commanded gruffly, the music slow and intense.

This time, Steve did shake his head slowly, but Tony just nodded. Steve bit his lip and Tony felt his balls clench as he gestured to continue. Steve nodded slowly, and that beautiful rosy flush began in his cheeks and spread down over his body. Tony's breath held again, and slowly Steve lifted the cowboy hat and tossed it towards Tony.

Tony didn't grab for it. He couldn't. He was riveted to what he was seeing.

Steve was completely, superbly aroused, cock tip flushed and taut and a stream of precum already dripping down the length. His eyes were lowered shyly as he gently thrust his hips in time to the music, not meeting Tony's at all.

It took every single ounce of control that Tony did not actually possess to stop himself from tackling Steve to the floor and sucking that glorious cock into his mouth. A low, rough moan escaped him however and Steve- Steve REACTED. His body arched and he gasped, eyes closing, the tip of his cock spurting a little, the motion rubbing the head just under his belly button, leaving a glistening trail.

Tony unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out, spreading his thighs wide and fisting the base. "Dance for me." Tony rumbled, drawing his fist up and over the head of his cock.

Steve's head snapped up, and his eyes locked on Tony's a heartbeat before dropping down to Tony's lap. He visibly swallowed and Tony wanted to howl as Steve's cock twitched in reaction, lickable balls drawing up tighter. "Do it. Dance." Tony commanded, harsher now.

Steve turned and thrust his hips hard, dragging his hands over his body, and working into the movements Tony had coaxed him into last night, mimicking sex. Tony growled low in approval, squeezing the base of his cock tightly, too close to coming. He wanted this to last as long as possible.

Which, Tony discovered, was the sweetest torture ever created.

As the music grew louder, the lyrics punching and hot, Steve dropped to his knees and began crawling and dragging his body against the floor. Tony did moan aloud then as Steve's hips bucked and thrust, the head of Steve's cock actually slapping against the marble floor. Rolling to the side, lifting one knee and arm, Steve wrapped a hand around the pole, foot resting on the railing and pulled and pushed himself against the air. Tony's hips were bucking into the air now, head thrown back against the back of the couch, panting hard. He shoved his pants off, kicking them away, pounding his fist down on his cock almost violently. "Steve, yes..." Tony rasped. "More..."

Steve lowered his leg and raised up onto his knees. He kept his fist wrapped around the pole, stroking it like a cock, his own cock was so hard it was bowed into his belly as Steve's hips kept thrusting. Tony bit down on his tongue so hard he tasted blood, fighting off his orgasm. He could make Steve do this every night...god he wanted more...

Nothing prepared him for what Steve did next.

Steve leaned into the pole, rubbing his face against it, his free hand slid down his body and ....fuck...god, pinched first one nipple than the other, each pinch causing his hips to buck harder, then his hand slid down and fisted around his own shaft.

Tony moaned louder, feeling his orgasm coil up hard in his balls, feeling his come rising.

Steve locked eyes with Tony, licked the pole and pumped his cock at the same time.

Tony broke. He leapt to his feet and roared, coming in one single heartbeat, shooting his come so hard it splashed at Steve's knees. Steve moaned and arched, licking faster as his own body seemed to react to Tony's orgasm and shot hard, coming over his chest and fist. On and on it seemed to go, long minutes of mindless, world-ending pleasure. With a final gasping shout, Tony collapsed back onto the couch, barely able to breathe.

He was dizzy and sure he was going to black out. Breathing deeply, rubbing a hand down over his face, he groaned and tried to sit up. He wanted to see Steve, wanted to touch him, pull him close. Finally gaining his brain back, he leaned over and reached out a hand. Steve had crumpled forward onto the floor between the dance stage and the couch, shaking and panting. Tony could just touch the top of Steve's head, and he rubbed his fingertips through the damp, blonde strands. Steve moaned and leaned up into the touch, pleasing Tony thoroughly.

"C'mere," Tony murmured, voice thick, "to me."

He watched as Steve inhaled deeply and then slowly....draw his head away from Tony's touch. Tony wanted to snatch him back, wanted that skin against his own and hold it there for as long as possible. The sight of Steve moving away...wrenched something in his chest. And he didn't like it. Especially not after sharing pleasure like that. "What's wrong? You okay?"

Steve just nodded and drew himself up to sitting cross legged on the dance floor, hand rubbing away the come streaks there, holding the other over his cock, like he was embarrassed. The blush in his cheeks hadn't faded, and he didn't look over at Tony. He was looking at the ropes of Tony's come on the floor between them.

"Water?" Tony offered, feeling like if he said anything else now, he'd likely break Steve. It had to be done carefully now, didn't it? Like taming a wild animal or some other insanely stupid cliche. Steve nodded and Tony staggered to his feet again, fetching a bottle of water from the mini fridge by the wet bar.

Bringing it back, Tony considered sitting down beside Steve on the floor, his body aching to hold the bigger blonde, touch his skin, stroke and kiss gently. Probably wasn't a good idea. Steve looked like he was going to vomit. The blush had faded and he was growing pale. Tony hated it. He had obviously enjoyed himself, why was he acting this way now? Was it Tony? He offered the bottle, and sat back down on the couch, dragging his pants on.

He watched as Steve drained the contents in seconds, licking his lips as he watched the muscles in the man's neck work as he swallowed. God, even that affected him, his spent cock twitching with renewed interest. He tucked it back into his pants, deciding. He couldn't do anything with that look on Steve's face. Sighing, he laced his fingers together and regarded him. "Enough. I'm done for the night. You can go now."

The relief on Steve's face felt like a slap, and Tony felt anger surging up inside him. Ungrateful bastard, Tony thought, bought and paid for him and he doesn't even-

The thought train ground to a halt and realization dawned on him.

Steve was morally straight. He was a hard-working man, trying to earn his way through school. Steve had a non-sexual contract. He was trying to do this...without selling his body. Steve didn't want to be a whore.

Tony swallowed hard as Steve rose and gathered his clothing in a rush. And that was exactly what Tony was trying to turn him into.

God, he was an evil fucking bastard. Everyone in the world was right.

Before Steve could bolt, Tony called out to him again. Steve froze, turning to him like a deer in the headlights. Tony sighed and walked over to him. "Hey, that was awesome. Thank you."

Steve nodded and took a step, "Wait." Tony put a hand lightly on Steve's forearm. God his skin was so soft, still hot and damp. Steve froze again. "Do you want to keep dancing for me?" Tony's voice was as gentle as he could make it. "Are you cool with these games we play? I don't-" Christ, was he really saying this? Someone call the fucking press, "I don't want you to- " removed his hand from Steve's arm with difficulty, gesturing broadly, twirling his hands and fingers "to not enjoy this. I mean, I see that you enjoyed it, with the whole incredible orgasm thing." Steve flushed again and Tony kept talking, "But if you feel like you're selling yourself out or breaking your contract...." Tony bit down on his tongue, not wanting to outright say that he'd release Steve from the contract, god knows he didn't want to, but still.

"I'm okay with it." Steve actually looked up at him, looked him right in the eye, and that impressed the fuck out of Tony. Men worth billions of dollars barely ever looked Tony in the eye. It was a measure of the quality of a man. He held Steve's gaze, listening. "You've paid for my services, and I've deposited that check." Steve swallowed, Tony's eyes didn't follow it, he kept his eyes on Steve, feeling hollow. "I'm yours here, and I'll honor that."

Tony stepped back, inhaling sharply and nodding briskly. "Okay, fine. That's good." He shut his trap before he could say something stupid like, "Let me fuck you then, please." Or "Marry me, Steve." Dear god, what the fuck was wrong with him? "Can I call you?" he said aloud.

Where the hell did that come from!?

Steve actually smiled a little at that, and Tony got lightheaded with the happy feeling and stupid fluttering in his chest at the sight of it. "Um, yeah, sure. I think that's okay." Tony waited. There was always a 'but'.

"But." See? Told ya.

"But?" Tony murmured, leaning in closer, wondering if he could get away with stealing a kiss.

Steve leaned in and stole the kiss from him. Tony's brain scrambled and he leaned in closer, chasing Steve's lips quickly, trying for more. Steve smiled at him, bigger this time as he pulled away.

"No more cars, okay?" Tony couldn't even formulate a reply as Steve turned and left, leaving Tony feeling...


11. Over the next few weeks, things settled into a sort of routine. Once Tony had learned his about class schedule, he never requested Steve to dance for him on 'school nights' as he'd put it. That made Steve laugh, over just the way he'd worded it. They spoke often via texts with the occasional short phone call, but Steve never sent either first, he always responded when Tony contacted him. Tony was usually busy with his own world, and Steve understood that. He would never expect anything more from Tony than what they had now: a professional/client arrangement.

And he'd had to work at keeping himself feeling like a professional. Even though Tony seemed satisfied with Steve, generous with praising words, Steve felt obligated to keep things fresh. Clint was near the bottom of his bag of tricks, saying "There isn't much more I can teach you unless you become a circus acrobat or a side show contortionist!"

That meant that Steve had to start doing research on this sort of thing. He even went so far as to enlist the help of the other dancers at Mon Coeur, hoping to glean a few secrets.

Thor was the most helpful, by far, in that aspect. His talents didn't lie so much in dancing as they did in simply flexing into poses and holding them, rippling his muscles in a breathtaking display. The big man wasn't shy and demonstrated at length for Steve. "Muscle worship" Thor called it. It was a fetish for some of his clients, and Thor certainly had the requisite physique for it. There was touching and stroking involved, and Steve blushed again and again as Thor did not hold back the details, even when explaining how men would stroke their cocks between his pectorals or his ass cheeks, or even in the bend of his elbow against his bicep. Steve didn't know if Tony bent to quite that angle, but still, all knowledge was worth having. He figured that with a genius' mind, Tony would get bored easily, and need constant change of style for stimulation.

That actually worried Steve. He was nothing like Tony, and couldn't imagine that they had anything else in common between them besides pleasure. And that was okay, he supposed, seeing as how they didn't see each other socially. Thor had also explained that many clients, usually women, wanted nothing more than to be petted and stroked, like cats, and listened to. Steve had been confused at that, and again, Thor demonstrated in detail.

Four hours later, Steve had been near tears talking about how much he missed his mother and in awe of how relaxed he'd become laying across the lap of another man with just a strong, gentle hand stroking over his hair and down his back! Thor had just laughed good-naturedly and said no more.

The Black Widow, at first, was not as forthcoming with information. It took a bottle of fine vodka and a box of specialty chocolates from a tiny Belgian chocolatier in Soho to get her to even talk to him. She kept to herself, mainly, preferring it that way. She catered almost exclusively to women, only taking on men when they wished a female to "dominate" them.

It hadn't taken much explanation for Steve to decide that he wasn't excited by the thought of whipping Tony or getting whipped himself. Natasha (she at least told him her name between bites of chocolates and sips of vodka, which was equivalent to being invited into a secret society in this case) had understood, explaining that it wasn't so much the pain as it was the idea of surrender, giving up control to another completely and losing yourself in the mindless trust to another. Steve thought he could grasp that concept, pondering it as Natasha asked if he wanted to borrow some handcuffs. Surprised at the kind gesture (coming from her, yes it was kind) he accepted gratefully, unsure of exactly how he'd use them, but again- if he could keep Tony surprised and interested.

Steve still wasn't sure exactly how well he'd be able to do that. The contract of his exclusive rights was good for one year from date of signature. Steve worried that he couldn't learn enough to keep Tony interested for that long. And not only that, he'd been paid five hundred thousand dollars to keep Tony entertained. It still didn't feel real that he had that much money to his own name, and Steve was desperate to make sure he'd earned it. Some of it he'd already put into savings, and half paid off his student loans and...well he thought he'd like to invest some now, too. A new idea popped into his head. Maybe Tony would like giving advice on how best to fold that money into growing capital.

Then again, maybe not. He'd watched TV shows and read business articles on how much of a shark- no- more like the Kraken- Tony Stark was in the business world. He was feared and awed and hated on several sides. Tony probably didn't want business mixing with his pleasure, like Steve originally thought. So there went that idea.

He'd figure something out.

Today was Friday, and after finishing classes and getting the official start of winter break, Steve went across campus to the bursar's office, intent on paying off his tuition for this coming year. He had the cash, he might as well lift the burden. The next year would be his most challenging yet, and Steve was anxious and excited all at once, having to complete a full portfolio of work in order to get his degree.

The office was warm after the freezing air outside, and decorated with Christmas colors. The little old woman at the desk was as sweet as an apple dumpling but Steve thought for sure that she was a little addled when she told him that his tuition had already been paid for. For the next three years.

Yet after triple checking, printing off the receipt and kindly suggesting that Steve get his hearing and sight checked, the fact remained that his school had truly been paid for. Steve could get his master's degree.

There was only one explanation.

He thanked the old woman and took the receipt with him, heading back towards home. Thoughts and feelings churned inside him, and Steve didn't know what to do with them. The date on the receipt was the day after he'd signed his contract with Mon Coeur. Tony Stark was the only logical explanation. What did that mean? Tony knew that he'd have to find out eventually. What did Tony expect from him now? He slowed as he approached the entrance to the subway.

And here he'd been worried on how to keep Tony entertained.

Steve swallowed hard, turning away from the underground and walking into the streets of the city to think. Could he really do this?

Could he really give his body to Tony Stark?

Steve had only known the highest of pleasures with Tony, and they had barely ever touched. It had fallen in to what Clint had first told him about, Steve danced, they both got aroused, and jerked off together. When it was over, Tony would sometimes touch him, or share a brief kiss, but more often it was just a smile, quiet thanks and a good night wave. They texted all the time though, sharing little jokes and stupid things like something funny on TV or a billboard. There was no doubt that Tony wanted more, but he seemed to have accepted the fact that he couldn't push Steve into more. Accepted, and more importantly, respected. Tony seemed to respect Steve and his boundaries. That had meant so much, allowing a strange sort of trust to grow between them.

Steve didn't think for a minute that he wouldn't enjoy loosing his virginity to Tony Stark. He'd often fantasized at home, alone in bed or in the shower of what it would feel like to have Tony really touching him, like the first and only time Tony had stroked him off on the couch in the Scarlet Room. And then more...kissing and stroking, sucking...Tony being inside him? It was enough to have him arching off the bed with pleasure.

What better way to repay the man who had single-handedly given him everything he'd ever worked for? Yes, he'd paid for the rights to see Steve exclusively, but in paying for his school...

It was worth it.

Determination setting in, Steve changed course for his apartment, and lots of research. He was going to have to learn fast in order to be able to seduce the world's most well-known seducer.


12. There was something different about Steve tonight, Tony thought. Tension was weird in the air, something that he hadn't felt since they first began their 'interludes' together. It felt almost like that first night, when Tony had had to coax Steve into the motions. He still smiled at the memory. Even when jerking off every day, remembering and fantasizing about Steve, he never came so hard as when they were alone together in the Scarlet Room.

And that was beginning to worry Tony.

It was becoming more and more difficult to keep his distance. He'd tried harder than he'd ever had before to restrain himself, satisfying his need to touch Steve with brief caresses or stolen kisses. Steve was consuming his thoughts more and more and Tony really thought he was going to go insane soon, simply because he wanted more from Steve. And he couldn't have it. So yes, masochist that he was, he was going to continue to torture himself, nights with nothing more than his fist on his own cock and longing with more and more parts of himself inside that he'd thought long dead for the blonde beauty who was standing before him.

"Tony," Steve murmured, sliding his robe off even before the music started.

"Hmm?" Tony didn't mind, palming himself lightly, already getting hard, settling into his customary spot on the sofa. He reached over for his drink on the side table and when he turned back-

Steve was kneeling between his legs directly in front of him.

Yep. He was already insane. This proved it. He was hallucinating.

"Tony," Steve repeated quietly, reaching out and laying a hand hesitantly on Tony's thigh. Tony bit his lip and blinked, huffing out a shaky breath as Steve squeezed gently. Tony got rock hard in milliseconds. "I want you."

"What?" He sounded stupid to his own ears.

"I said..." Steve slid his hand up slowly, and cupped Tony through his pants, rubbing gently. "I want you."

Glass shattered somewhere in the room as Tony threw the tumbler and tackled Steve to the floor. He groaned and moaned like a man possessed and put his mouth everywhere he could, licking and kissing wildly over Steve's hot sweet skin. He shoved a knee between Steve's thighs, wrenching them apart, getting a shocked breath in his ear in response. Steve's hands wound up around his neck and Tony shouted in pleasure as he felt Steve's tongue and lips licking and kissing his jaw and ears and neck. They were frantic, winding limbs together and Tony found himself tearing at his clothes, rearing up to take off his jacket, his shirt- he froze as the hard edge of the arc reactor slid against his fingertips. The feel of it jolted him with self-consciousness. Looking down, he sucked in a breath, awed.

Steve was spread out beneath him, robe open, his glorious muscled body completely naked, cock already hard and ready. Blonde hair tousled, soft and made for his hands to fist in. His beautiful blue eyes were dark, pupils blown and he was panting, reaching out for Tony. "Tony?" He asked, breathless, sounding confused. "Did I do something wrong?" Slowly he drew his hands back, biting down on his lip, eyes focusing more and more.

Tony dove down, unable to relinquish this prize now, taking Steve's lower lip between his teeth and sucking it, biting down like he'd longed to. Steve cried out and ground his hips against Tony's and Tony answered in kind, reaching down to shove his pants off. Soon they were nearly completely naked, the sensation of their bare, hard, dripping cocks rubbing together made Tony see stars. Tony's shirt remained on and he resisted Steve's attempts to pull it off. Each time the blonde reached for a button, Tony took his hand and sucked on his fingers, distracting him.

"You like that, don't you? Oh....just wait, gorgeous...." Tony murmured, smiling around Steve's fingers, licking each thoroughly as his hands stroked over Steve's body, memorizing every inch, finding each more exquisite than all of his fantasies. Steve was so responsive, quivering and bucking at each touch and stroke. Tony dropped his face to Steve's chest, licking his perfect pecs, locking onto a nipple and sucking, drawing out that incredible keening mewl of pleasure. "Perfect pink goddamn delicious and suckable....mmmmhhh..." Tony ravished Steve's chest, leaving beard burn there, but working Steve's nipples until he was writhing, pleading.

"Tony, please! I need...." Steve whimpered, and Tony was in heaven, finally wringing those pleas from his perfect, fuckable mouth. Looking up at Steve's face, he kissed lower, licking and nipping down Steve's body until he felt the tip of Steve's cock brush through the hairs of his beard. Steve yelped aloud and bucked and Tony soothed him with kisses against his hips, stroking his hands down over Steve's thighs.

He couldn't believe this, couldn't imagine what had clicked in Steve's mind to finally give in to this, giving himself to Tony. Licking a stripe across his hips, memorizing the taste, Tony gasped out "Wanted you, so long wanted you, Steve, god you were driving me crazy. What did it? What made you want me like this?"

Steve was moaning wildly, incoherent sounds that were the sweetest music Tony had ever heard. It didn't matter, Tony decided. At this moment, Steve's dripping cock was an offering right before his mouth and -

An offering.

God damn his fucking genius mind.

He tried to shove the thought away. Battled it with everything he could, he felt so much for Steve, wanted him so badly. He growled and sucked Steve's cock into his mouth, eyes rolling at the taste, the feel. Steve screamed and bucked off the floor, driving himself deeper between Tony's lips. Tony let him, sliding his hands underneath and grabbing that perfect ass, squeezing tight and encouraging the thrusts of Steve's hips.

Steve caught on like instinct, pumping his hips and fucking Tony's mouth. When his hands came down to fist in Tony's hair, Tony moaned loud and deep in his throat, sucking deeper and faster.

"Tony! Tony stop! Oh god, I'm gonna -gonna...!" Tony moaned again in triumph, fighting to get his prize, pinning down Steve's now struggling attempts to pull his cock away. He wanted it. He WANTED!

Steve stilled and arched hard, giving up Tony's name through that exquisite wild sound of orgasm, Tony groaning in praise and pleasure as hot sweet and salty come shot over his tongue and down his throat. Swallowing hungrily he sucked and sucked, cupping and massaging Steve's balls until Steve was begging for him to stop. With a long slow suck and a lazy lingering lick, Tony pulled off, nuzzling Steve's throbbing sac and inhaling deeply, taking his scent deep inside.

Sitting up on his knees, Tony now took in the sight of Steve completely wrecked beneath him. Sweat dripped off of him, body shaking and panting hard. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"Please..." Steve croaked, and Tony grabbed his arm, helping him sit up. Steve crashed forward into Tony's body and grabbed his hair, mouth seeking Tony's, desperately kissing. Tony gave and gave and gave, Steve plundering his mouth and his hands, still shaking, coursing down over Tony's body. "Let me...please....want to give to you..." Steve moaned, trying to kiss and lick in the way Tony had done to his body. The only way he'd ever experienced it. The first time. This time. The only time.

An offering.

Tony felt his chest grow tight and heavy, hating his mind for being so damn clever. He knew that Steve must've learned about paying his tuition. Tony had been right. It was Steve's price. Steve was offering the only thing he had of value in return.
His body.

Tony ground his teeth together, grappling with Steve to get his hands under control. He pushed them down to the sides, wrapping his arms tight around Steve's body. Confused, Steve protested, squirming against Tony's chest, leaning in to lick and kiss and suck at Tony's neck. Tony groaned and wondered when the hell he'd grown a fucking conscience.

He decided it had been when he'd learned that Steve had wanted to earn his pay by the rules that had been set down, on his own terms. Tony respected that. It was goodness and honesty, things that Tony had been sorely lacking in his life. He respected those things, and in Steve, he'd found not only did he respect...but he...cared.

Tony found himself caring about what Steve thought of him. The little texts that they shared daily, the laughs and comments about the world around him. Steve was smart, sharp, and didn't swallow bullshit. He really wasn't like everyone else. And Tony knew that. And it was the brightest light in his world now.

It would kill both of them and what they had, whatever it was, if Tony let himself take what Steve was offering now.
Tony risked sliding a hand up to cup the back of Steve's head, tangling his fingers in the soft gold strands. He shushed and soothed Steve, slowly getting the man to focus on his eyes over lingering protests. "Shhh....Steve....kiss me." And he closed his eyes, leaning in to meet Steve's lips. He never closed his eyes. Never trusted anyone enough to do it.

Until Steve. Steve who had boundaries and limits. Steve, who trusted Tony not to push harder than he was comfortable with. Steve...who just plain trusted Tony. And Tony could easily trust him.

Their kiss was slow, deep, and filled with...something. Something other than simple wild lust. It was passionate, stoking...tongues meeting and stroking, dancing in a beautiful concert instead of a grind of need. Tony grew dizzy, swallowing the soft sounds of pleasure Steve made, giving sounds of his own. His cock was still raging between them, painfully hard, and Steve's had stirred and was hardening again. Too much...too fucking much!

Tony broke the kiss and pulled away. Steve's eyes were closed and he had his lips puckered, chasing after Tony's kiss. Tony held up a hand and pressed his fingers to Steve's lips, stopping him gently.

Steve's eyes fluttered open, and the look in those azure pools was one that made Tony's busted heart stutter and turn over and bloom back into life. "Tony?" he breathed, the sound soft and confused, making his newly bloomed heart flip and wrench.

"Hey," Tony said weakly, offering a small smile. Steve smiled back, looking relieved and leaning forward again, reaching. Tony stopped him again, and the look of confusion was back....confusion and....hurt.

Oh fuck.

"What is it? Did I...? Are you...?" Steve's eyes dropped to his cock and grew even more confused, seeing that Tony was still incredibly aroused.

Maybe Tony could change this. Fix it. He figured that if he told Steve that he knew what he was doing, why he was trying to seduce Tony, Steve would get embarrassed and hurt, and try even harder. That could only end up as a goddamn train wreck. Gently, he stroked his hands down Steve's chest, reveling in the feel of him, so gratified that he now had permission to touch, to pleasure. He felt Steve's heartbeat racing under his hands. He kept stroking, thinking faster than the heartbeat.

"Steve..." Tony whispered, "You're incredible. Do you know what you've done to me?" Tony wasn't thinking enough about the words coming out of his mouth. That wasn't usually a good thing, but he couldn't seem to stop them. Steve shook his head, brow wrinkling in confusion again, biting his lip. Tony's cock surged, dripping at the sight. Steve noticed and lifted a hand slowly, reaching out to touch Tony's cock with his fingertips. Tony's breath rushed out, back bowing, but he didn't stop Steve. He could think....speak....for a few more...."Steve...ahhh" he gasped as Steve's warm strong hand curled around his shaft and slowly pumped down. "Wait...uhhnn..."

Okay, maybe this would work too...

"We do this, then we talk after, okay?" Tony grated, eyes closing, barely getting the words out before a loud moan broke in his chest when Steve pumped him again.

"Okay," Steve's voice was coming from the wrong place. A heartbeat of heat, then wet and Tony shouted as Steve's mouth came down on his cock. "Oh god, Steve..." Tony arched back, trying to keep his hips from bucking, not wanting to choke out his lover on his maiden voyage.

There was no finesse, no technique, just Steve's eagerness and the need to please. He tried to mimic what Tony had done, taking him deeper. Tony forced his eyes open and looked down as he heard Steve gag. ", baby...not so deep....just ahh....aahhhh yes!" He panted louder as Steve's mouth slid up to suck the tip of his cock and the top half of his shaft, pumping the rest of Tony's length in a wet slicked fist.

"Oh yes fucking god...Steve so good...don't stop, please don't fucking stop...." Tony was desperately trying not to fuck Steve's mouth, fisting only one hand in Steve's soft hair and pressing the other into his own thigh, trying...trying..."Fuck, I'm gonna come Steve...I'm gonna, shit ohh pull off now, I'm gonna...STEVE!!" He bellowed, shocked as he watched Steve's head arch back, staring up at Tony, red lips plumped and sucking, blue eyes shining and eager. Tony lost it and came hard, shooting into Steve's hungry mouth. A flicker of surprise in Steve's face as he swallowed like Tony had. "Ohhhhhhh god, Steve...." The hot groan was dragged out of him as he tried to pull out of Steve's mouth, but Steve sucked like Tony had, so desperate to give every last minute of pleasure.

"Mmm...." Tony gently pressed his fingertips into the hinge of Steve's jaw, rubbing. Steve blinked and opened wider, letting Tony's softening cock to slip from his mouth. Watching him lick his lips sent a full body shudder of after pleasure shocks through Tony's body. "C' me." Tony wrapped an arm around Steve's shoulders and drew them up to get onto the couch.

A few minutes later, they were cuddled together, Steve's head resting on his chest, staring at the blue glow hidden beneath Tony's shirt. He was silent, thankfully. Tony wasn't sure he wanted to talk about that right then. Yawning he stroked Steve's hair, watching the man's eyes drift close. "We sleep, then we talk about this, okay?" Tony murmured. Steve nodded, yawning along. Tony watched Steve until his breath had evened out into sleep.

"God damn, do you know what you've done to me?" Tony whispered.


13. A rough hand shook him awake, calling his name quietly.

"Tony, I'm up- I'm." Steve said, groggy and with a smile, reaching over to touch his...well, lover, Steve supposed now.
"Shut up and get up."

Steve's eyes shot wide and he scrambled upright at the sound of the voice. A woman's voice. "Natasha? What're you doing here?" His head swiveled around, eyes darting for Tony. There was no sign of him.

"Its 10 am. The cleaning service needs to get in here, I have an appointment at noon." Her voice was still quiet and calm. And it unnerved the hell out of Steve. Confusion wracked him as he scrambled for his robe. The bathroom? Glancing, he saw the door was open.

"Stark left around 4 this morning." Natasha said, arms crossed and leaning by the door.

"Oh." Steve said softly, belting the robe tightly, squeezing the tie over a sudden cold knot in his stomach. "Did he leave a message for me?"

Natasha just arched her perfect eyebrow sharply.

"Right. Thanks." Swallowing hard, Steve squared his shoulders and marched out the door. An unexpected hand, firm and soft, caught his shoulder.

"Hey, are you okay? Did something happen?" Natasha's voice was even quieter now, laced with something that might be considered affection...or maybe malice. It was hard to tell with her. He just shook his head and patted her hand after she squeezed once, letting him go. "Sometimes it just ends. Sometimes there is no goodbye." Her voice followed him down the hall and he hunched his shoulders, a hot, sick feeling replacing the cold.

Steve replayed the night before over and over in his mind as he rode home to his apartment. He dissected every movement and touch, fighting down his arousal as he showered and dressed. He scrutinized every word said, every look he had seen Tony give him while he made coffee, still queasy and not hungry for food.

What had he done wrong?

Sitting on his bed, Steve turned his phone over and over in his fingertips, wondering if he should text Tony, or maybe even call him. This was territory he'd never been in before, and it was really shitty territory. Feelings and thoughts were roiling up in his mind, confusing and hurting. It all kept cycling down into one painful, condensed memory that made a hot, aching lump rise up in his throat.

"Steve. You're incredible. Do you know what you've done to me?"

Even now, in the light of day, the words made a hot spill of rolling shivers move through his body, bursting in his chest and making his groin ache. Tony had been aroused the whole time, he'd come hard in Steve's mouth. Hard and loud...and Steve bit his lip and shifted against a rush to his cock, remembering the taste of Tony's come. It was...good. More than good. Insanely good, exquisite. He'd give anything to taste it again, to be the focus of that wild intensity of Tony's release.

But what had he done to Tony? He'd made the man come, right? He'd been doing his best to give Tony whatever he wanted. So why did Tony leave? Tony had never left before without a kiss or a word that they'd see each other again. Steve had grown to look forward to those little exchanges, always feeling special and wanted when Tony smiled at him, sated and pleased. Steve loved the feeling that came with knowing he'd been the one to give Tony that satisfaction.

"...and then we'll talk about this, okay?"

Shame crumbled through him, hot embarrassment. Steve was a virgin. He must've really been bad at what they'd done. Tony had come, the bisexual-dynamo/genius probably had enough experience to get off any way he could, but...Why did this bother him so much? It was just a job, wasn't it? He had just been trying to keep up with Tony, to fulfill his contract, and meet the billionaire measure for measure. A rough laugh bubbled up in him, the sound raw and hollow in the empty room. Yeah, like he could ever keep pace with a billionaire. Offering himself seemed really stupid now. Tony had been with supermodels and professional athletes, and the tales of Las Vegas were Stark Legend now, according to the internet. The embarrassment intensified. Tony probably thought Steve wasn't good enough...wasn't worthy. He was probably so awful at this that he had probably turned Tony Stark straight!

Steve sighed and facepalmed with both hands, scrubbing his fingers up through his hair. Speculating and torturing himself was never a good idea. There wouldn't be an answer unless he asked. He looked down at his phone. It remained stubbornly silent. Usually there were at least twenty texts from Tony by now.

Tossing it on the bed, he decided to ignore the whole situation. Tony knew his number and Mon Coeur would contact him if Tony wanted his services again.

Resolved not to think on it any longer, Steve busied himself with getting into a project for school, keeping himself sketching in front of a canvas for hours.

He pretended not to realize he kept glancing over at his phone...


14. The sound of fingernails tapping gently on the screen of the tablet was a focus for him. Tony kept his mind on that simple sound, trying desperately to tune out everything else that was going on in his head. The tapping was slower than usual, he could tell. Pepper was snailing on purpose.

"What's the holdup? It doesn't take that long to write up a-" he started, taking a swallow of roomcold coffee that he'd been holding since getting it at around five that morning.

"Are you sure? Absolutely- completely sure you want to do this, Tony?" Pepper's voice cut him off, surprisingly gentle. "Once its done, its do-"

"Yes. I know. Do it." He cut her off, just because he could, and he knew damn well what he was doing. He'd spent hours thinking it through. Hours staring at a sleeping beauty in his arms, his heart doing bizarre things in his chest and reaching up into his mind. It scared the fuck out of him, so he did the first thing he usually did when he felt afraid.

Okay so the second thing. The first thing he usually did was throw enough money at it to either nullify it, bury it or get it removed from his sight immediately. He'd already thrown a ton of money at it and look where that had gotten him. So the second thing was that he'd just walk (not run. Not. Run. He hadn't run out of Mon Coeur this morning. He had walked...briskly.) away from it as fast as possible.

Glancing up at his PA, he noted the disapproving twist of her lips as her fingers tapped with finality at the screen. Whatever. He didn't need anyone telling him what to do. She'd gone on for about an hour at him, with him barely listening of course, first about how it was cruel and unusual punishment to get a human being out of bed at 5 in the morning to come to the office on a Saturday. And then she'd switched to harping on about how good Tony had been lately, how focused and actually pleasant he'd been to be around since he'd first started seeing Steve. Tony had held up a hand right there. He was "seeing" Steve in the perfectly businesslike sense. They had a contract between them, and that was all. Orgasms on a regular basis were always a reason for one to be pleasant. That was all.

There. Was. Nothing. Else. There was nothing behind Steve's blue eyes as they had begged Tony to go further, to take him completely. Nothing in Steve's voice, cracked and whimpering and pleading, that made Tony think that Steve really wanted him to. It was all business, Tony had decided. Steve had tried to offer his unicorn seal on the pure premise of repaying Tony for paying for his art school. Tried. Tony was an honest business man, and it wasn't worth the investment. Wasn't worth Steve's investment.

Tony sighed into his coffee cup, ignoring the look Pepper gave him when she offered the tablet for him to thumbprint. That was the end of it. Steve deserved to have his gift taken by someone who loved him. After a dozen dates of romance, exquisite dinners, fine wines, lavish entertainment and intimate shared laughter. In a bed, a large bed, with 1600 thread-count egyptian cotton sheets and a dozen lush pillows. Someone who would take him gently, reverently, slowly, patiently...over and over until it built into pleasure that Steve would cherish for a lifetime. Someone who would give Steve that loving pleasure as many times as those gorgeous blue eyes would ask for it, give him pleasures to fill his lifetime.

Tony...just wasn't the one to do it.

Goddamn him, though Tony burned to be. A fire lit inside him, possessive and raging, every time he looked at Steve. Tony knew it had to be the desire to take Steve for the first time. That's all it was, all it could be. The beauty that would light Steve's face for the first time...Steve deserved someone who would make love to him. Not just fuck the everloving hell out of him. And that's all Tony could do.

Tony couldn't love him. He wasn't capable of it.

"You realize that he'll be back on the main stage now." Pepper said, her gentle tone gone now, back to matter-of-factuality that she had in business matters.

"Yeah." Tony grunted, getting up to leave. Her words were hot, stinging arrows in his back as he headed towards the door. A liquid brunch was calling his name, he'd lose himself in the booze.

"He'll be up for auction again. You know he will."

"Yep. I know." Tony grit out, fighting down a wave of jealousy so vicious that it left him with nothing but a fiery ache in his chest. He kept walking.

"He might be back onstage tonight." Her voice chased him down the hall. He was not running. The elevator doors closed off the last thing she shouted to him. Leaning back against the wall of the elevator, he let his head hit the steel with a solid thunk. Hands rubbed down his face and moved lower, reaching for his phone. His fingertips were finding the number, Steve's number, for the text without him even thinking about it.

Growling softly, he shoved the phone back in his pocket, stabbing out a finger for the lobby button. The soft swoop in his stomach as the elevator dropped was just momentum and gravity.

So why didn't it stop when he got out?


15. It was just the cold stinging his eyes that made them wet, really. Steve knew that as he strode (okay trudged) back into Mon Coeur's offices later in the afternoon. A text had pinged on his phone and Steve had knocked over his easel in his rush to get to it, foolishly hoping it was Tony. His fingers had been shaking as he'd pulled up the message, heart in his throat.
And then promptly it fell down through the floor, like a frozen stone.

Shivering slightly from the chill outdoors, Steve made to sit down in the waiting room outside Fury's office, but Maria was already waving him in, Fury barking out his name as Steve ducked his head and hurried inside.

Fury was pacing along the wall of windows, hands behind his back. Steve didn't know if he was angry or not. Fury always looked like that. It would figure Fury would be angry, however, considering Tony Stark had just dumped him as a client. If Tony Stark didn't want Steve, then who else would, right? There must've been a draught or something, because Steve was shivering again, pulling his leather jacket tighter around him, jamming his hands into his pockets.

Fury stopped and turned to face Steve directly. Steve's shoulders hunched, feeling embarrassed and miserable. He was a failure at this, abjectly. Would Fury ask for his pay back? Biting his lip, he inhaled to speak.

"Did you and Stark fuck or not?"

The bluntness of the question made Steve choke on the words and air in his throat. A hot blush rushed his cheeks and he stammered and coughed, shaking his head in denial.

Fury watched, his one eyebrow raised, mouth frowning. After a moment, he nodded. "So you're still seeing unicorns, then?" Fury chuckled, crossing his arms.

Steve just blinked, then he bristled. "Yes, I'm still a - a virgin, Mr. Fury," crossing his own arms, feeling defensive. Not that he hadn't tried (and failed miserably) to give it away.

Fury nodded again. "Stark said as much himself. Well, his severance letter did, anyway. Said you were not at fault, that you had held up your end of the contract with ...what was it?" Fury looked up for a second, recalling, " 'perfect professionalism and is a credit to Mon Coeur's quality and service.' His assistant must've written it. For all he's a genius, I don't think Stark knows how to compliment someone, let alone use those words correctly in a sentence that doesn't describe himself." Fury chuckled again, dropping down into the chair. "So, Rogers, it comes down to what you want." He gestured to a chair, but Steve remained standing.


"You've got a shit ton of money, and you've been released from your contract. You don't have to work again for years if you don't want to." Fury leaned forward and steepled his fingers, regarding Steve over them. "So. What do you want? Do you want to keep dancing here at Mon Coeur?"

Steve did sink slowly down into the chair then. His mind was reeling. Tony didn't want him anymore, but it apparently hadn't been Steve's fault. Steve still had all his pay, though a pang of guilt hit him before he could stop it, he hadn't really earned it all yet. So why didn't he want Steve anymore? A bubble of bitter pain and hurt rumbled up through him. He swallowed hard. Steve was good enough for one of the richest men in the world, albeit for a time, so it stood to reason that he would be good enough for people who...weren't as rich as Tony. And there were a lot more of those people. A notion arose in his mind, in a place that was between pride and...something he couldn't quite name, a place that was sore and panged when he prodded it, that he would prove that he was good enough. There was money to be earned, and he didn't need to hold himself back anymore. He could do this.

With that bitterness tingeing his voice, he ground out, "I do."

Fury grinned like he'd known all along. Steve ignored it. He was going back to work, and he was going to earn it, just like Clint and Thor and Natasha did. Standing, he spoke more forcefully. "Make my contracts 'client's discretion'."

Fury just nodded, his grin growing positively predatory. "You're back onstage tonight at 11."

Steve nodded and strode out, heading down to the dressing room he and Clint had shared. If this was going to happen, he was going to make some changes to the routine and his persona. His phone was out and to his ear, dialing in reinforcements.

"Clint? Yeah, its me. Do you know where I can get something in white?"


16. Tony was blindingly drunk. So much so that he didn't even register that he'd given Happy an order to take him to Mon Coeur. Happy had tried to tell him that Pepper had told him not to take Tony there, no matter what. But Tony knew that Happy was in his corner, he'd do what Tony said, even with the threat of Pepper and her needle heels.

Why he was back at Mon Coeur, he didn't really know. Well, Tony was drunk enough to know why but sober enough to ignore it. Which meant he needed to drink more, until he couldn't remember anything. A crisp Benjamin ensured that his presence was not announced to the room, like it usually was. Tony was not in the mood to entertain. He ordered a bottle of Dalmore 50, and settled into a secluded booth towards the back of the room, knowing that he would not see Steve tonight, despite what Pepper said.

Everything he'd learned about Steve told him that the blonde had most likely quit this place entirely. He would be back to waiting tables or whatever, even though he had all the money Tony had paid him. Tony snorted, the big boy scout had probably donated it to some orphaned nuns with puppies or something charmingly ridiculous like that. His chest tightened and he tossed back a finger of the fine scotch without savoring. The burn was there, but the booze did little to quell it. A cheaper bottle of booze could've done the trick without costing him a mint, but he was here. Appearances had to be kept, didn't they? Like he gave an actual fuck, scowling at the crowd as he tossed back another two fingers.

Loki was there again tonight, pointed nose in the air, disdaining company. A few other faces he recognized, ignoring them as not even worth his notice. And then he caught sight of a small crowd around a table in the center of the room, situated right before the dais. A dark blonde head was shaking with laughter, in a bad fitting Armani suit. The people around him laughed. Tony saw, even in his drunk state, that the laughter was obligatory, they were laughing because of who told the joke, not because it was actually funny. Eyes narrowing, Tony leaned forward a little, trying to focus. The head turned slightly to the side, and a profile appeared.

That little fucking shit Justin Hammer was here.

A humorless laugh, silent in his chest, mixed with a bit of relief. Hammer would've had to have bribed his way into this place, considering his reputation with hookers. He wasn't known to be a 'gentle' lover. The relief came from knowing that Steve wasn't here anymore. Steve would never be subject to Hammer's disgusting leers or worthless touches. That thought was threatening to send him in an entirely different direction. One that included splashes of blood, international waters and plausible deniability. Inhaling, he shoved it away. Steve wasn't here. It was moot.

Ignoring the worthless piece of shit in the middle of the room, Tony thumbed through the tablet at his table, looking at the dancers scheduled to perform tonight. The Hawk, Widow, Thor (well, that explained Loki's presence), and ....he frowned, thinking he was seeing things too drunkenly....The Nomad? ...The fuck was that?

He lifted the tablet and brought it close to his face, scrutinizing the picture. A man, swathed in white robes, a cowl of the fabric draped over his lower face, eyes lowered. There wasn't much of a sense of size, the pose the Nomad was in was crouched, yet graceful, nearly every inch of skin covered. Slashes in the robes revealed hints of tanned skin, but that was it. Tony frowned at the tablet for a few more minutes, looking down at the contract details. "Client's discretion" was in bold letters. Tony blinked a few times, another wash of relief going through him. Definitely wasn't Steve. Steve would never become a whore.

The relief turned to a stranger feeling when Steve's name spun through his mind again. An ache, not a sexual kind, or even a possessive kind...but a...lost...needy kind. Tony ground his teeth together and poured several shots of scotch down his throat. The room spun slightly and he wavered close to blackout for several minutes. He leaned back against the cushioned seat and closed his eyes.

He must've actually blacked out, because when he opened his eyes again, it was quite a bit later. Shouting woke him. Loki was Justin Hammer. Thor was on the stage, smiling serenely and flexing those big meaty muscles of his. Tony stretched and sighed, feeling more sober than he should be. Once upon a time, he'd lusted after that demi-god looking man. An amused smile curled his lips as the bidding between the two wealthy men grew heated. Thor wasn't as beautiful as Steve. Nowhere near close. There wasn't even an urge to throw a bid-wrench in between those two idiots as they reached the million-dollar mark in bids. Tony supposed that meant that the thrill of coming to this place was gone now. Just as well, Pepper always bitched when he spent his money here. (Unless of course, he placated her with the Widow).

The bidding ended. After a few more heated words, and the advancement of Coulson's security team, Hammer backed off with a curse, leaving Loki grinning triumphantly, already moving out of the room towards the private elevators. Hammer looked like he wanted to punch something, but Coulson's team was strategically placed, shielding the other patrons from the worst of his glares and curses. The lights gleamed off of their dark sunglasses, making them look a little fiercer than they probably were.

Tony chuckled softly, pouring another drink. He'd never thought he'd be pleased to see Loki winning at something. But at Hammer's expense? Well, here's to fucking that little turd over. Tony lifted his glass and made a mock salute to the back of the dark green suit jacket that was disappearing out of the room to claim the Thunder God.

As he lifted the glass to his lips, the lights dimmed and the pleasant British voice came over the speakers. Glancing down at the time display, Tony saw that it was 11:00. The Nomad was about to debut. Curious, he set his glass down and leaned back. There wasn't any real interest in him to see the newcomer. It wasn't Steve, and that's all he really cared to see dancing anymore.

The thought hit him harder than he expected, making a hot, twisting knot seize up inside his guts. Suddenly, he didn't want to be here anymore. Steve was gone for good. There would be no more little jokes, no more sweet shy smiles, no more touches and pleasure that he'd sell his soul to have. Tony didn't have a soul to sell. There was nothing left of him for this place. Steve had taken it all, but had left Tony better for it. What kind of fucking thought was that? He stood up quickly, and stumbled a bit, dizzy with a rush of booze and blood. Bracing himself on the table, he almost missed the sound that was filtering through the speakers.

His head shot up and his entire body clenched. It was the song that Steve had danced to, their first night together. The achingly lovely flute strains slid into his ears and down into his body, stroking fire hard and possessive with memory. His eyes locked onto the dais. Who the hell had stolen this song from Steve? Nobody but Steve should ever dance to it. No one could ever do it justice. No one could...

Thoughts trailed off as the dais floor opened. Usually, the floor was empty, save for those rare occasions when the Hawk would do some wild, sensual acrobatics. Hawk wasn't scheduled, so what the hell was this? A configuration of poles and railings rose up out of the floor, a white-cloaked figure, facing away from the crowd, in the center of them. Tony swallowed hard. The railings were the same ones in the Scarlet Room. The ones Steve had wrapped himself around...licked and rubbed and...come against...

Tony's knees began to shake and he leaned forward onto his sweating palms, one hand reaching out for the glass of scotch. It shook in his grip, dark liquid sloshing slightly. The song continued on through the intro, and the thumping beat that had been seared into his memory began. The figure on the dais raised his arms and spread the cloak wide, sweeping it grandly and turning and moving into deep, thrusting movements of sexual grace and aching beauty. Skin like silk over hewn stone shifted and shimmered with sweat. Curves and planes that were permanent jewels, a dazzling constellation in his mind, flashed before his view.

The glass cracked in his grip. Tony knew. The pit of his stomach erupted into wildfire, pooling in his groin and sending savage lust into the core of his brain, and a wrenching fist around his heart.


Steve was The Nomad.

The entire room was silent, enchanted and entranced by Steve. The white cloak fell away. Tony moaned quietly, breathlessly, and his knees buckled, making him sink to the cushioned seat. Steve's incredible chest was bound in a white leather bondage harness, rings of gold glinting in the spotlight. his lower body cased in chaps made of nothing but more white leather straps and gold buckles. Around his neck was a white leather collar with a golden lead ring, matching the cuffs around his biceps and wrists. It was exquisite to see that paired with the cowled veil he still wore covering his hair and his mouth, leaving only his beautiful eyes visible. His cock- which wasn't erect, Tony made careful note of- was cupped and hugged by a barely there scrap of white silk and gold thread, which chased over his hips and down between his glorious ass cheeks.

So obscenely virginal. It was...
Tony's breath was gone, coming in ragged gasps. The thought of that slender thread being the only barrier between his tongue and Steve's tender, virgin flesh...He was struggling to his feet again, breath filling with lungs to call out orders to Steve, to dance the way Tony seduce him into shared pleasure again. No, not seduce. To beckon, to plead, to beg, to...Tony wanted to beg for Steve, beg to pleasure him, beg to take him, beg to do anything and everything Steve wanted him to and more. God, he felt dizzy again, the blood rushing to his cock away from his brain. He was rock hard and aching. The throb in his cock was nearly as intense as the one in his heart.

The words did not come, though. His eyes locked on Steve as the blonde man worked his body into the motions that Tony had taught him. His body curled and wrapped and stretched over and around the railings and poles, spreading his thighs wide with grinding thrusts, the ones that drove Tony deeper into madness. Every muscle of that exquisite form was undulating and flexing, thrusting and writhing, making love to the air and fucking the eye of every goddamn fucking person in the crowd.

Dark, deep rage curled up in him, cording his throat. He was gonna to tear the fucking place down. NOBODY watched Steve but HIM. NONE of these witless fucks was worthy to even breathe the same air as Steve!

His body shook with lust blended with rage blended with nameless heart-tearing needs. Steve had to get off that stage, he knew what these bastards wanted from him! They just wanted to get their hands on his flesh, use his body for their own pleasure, beat him down and take and take and TAKE. He was not at all unaware of the irony, of wanting the very same thing for himself. He knew better now. Knew Steve better now. Knew that Steve would never forgive himself if he....

As if on cue, the tablet on the table before him beeped softly and a screen popped up. The Nomad -Steve- was up for bidding. Tony's glare tore around the room as a soft murmur moved through the crowd, and watched as almost every patron picked up their tablet to enter into a race to win Steve. "Client's Discretion" was the only hook they needed. With that little clause, Steve's body belonged to whomever paid the highest price.

Fuck. That. Shit.

Steve was HIS.

Growling low and vicious, he stabbed his finger onto the tablet, punching in his password and his bid. His mouth curled in a victorious snarl. No one would top that bid. The light on the tablet turned green, indicating his bid was winning. Satisfaction and relief surged up in him unexpectedly. He'd saved Steve from these fucking sharks. Steve would walk away unscathed, unshamed. Untouched. Tony felt like a protector, like a hero. A fucking superhero!

For a few more minutes, he watched Steve, still feeling that strange blend of emotions. What the fuck was Steve thinking? This wasn't the Steve he'd come to know, the one he'd grown to- What the hell was this? How could Steve just suddenly sell himself like this!? Didn't Steve realize what would happen to himself if he fell down this hole? Nothing would bring him back, he would never again be the sweet happy creature that Tony had fallen so hard for. Those beautiful blue eyes would grow cold and the dark brown ones that stared back at him in his bathroom mirror every time he dared to look in it. Tony couldn't allow that.

The murmurs grew louder as the patrons registered Tony's bid. Several growled and threw down their tablets angrily. Tony's satisfaction grew. Steve was priceless. Worth anything and everything Tony had. The patrons didn't stop watching however. A few had even begun discreetly rubbing themselves, so aroused by Steve's performance. Tony snarled, wanting to beat the fuck out of all of them. He hated that others were watching his Steve, hated that others were seeing the exquisite pleasure that Steve's body, his eyes-....

God his eyes...They hadn't lifted into the crowd yet. Steve hadn't shared that look that he had first with Tony with anyone else. He shifted in his seat, fighting the urge to go down and physically haul Steve away with him. It had been less than 24 hours but he missed watching Steve move. Missed seeing him smile, hearing him laugh. Like a painting in flesh, like a sculpted joy incarnate.

His mouth dropped open, and a audible gasp filled the air as Steve suddenly lifted a long red leather leash hidden in the puddle of the cloak he'd shed. With graceful movements, Steve hooked the clasp to his collar and lashed it to a pole.

Then the beat of the music changed, crossfading into the song that Tony had used to work Steve into a lustful frenzy, driving him to lick the pole and pump his cock with Tony until they had both come so goddamn hard.

Tony snarled, aching lust and wild rage filling him, obliterating his satisfied relief. It was so wildly erotic, but it also felt...wrong. Watching, helpless, Tony bit down on his tongue until he tasted blood. Steve wove himself and the leash through the railings and the poles, tangling himself into wide splayed erotic positions...first bending over the railing and splaying his legs wide, presenting his perfect ass, bucking into the punching lyrics...then gracefully threading his leash over the top railing and perching atop it, braced against the pole, feet hooked over the brass, thrusting and arching back hard. The lights shone down, his sweat glistening, making the white leather rub and slide tight to his muscles, body pulled taut by the leash. Like Steve was begging to be bought. To be a virgin pleasure slave.

The crowd was getting restless and louder now, cat calls and filthy suggestions audible from various patrons. Classless fucks. Tony growled again, making to get up to go stop this once and for all, sweep Steve up and take him away from here. Happy was in the car, waiting, he and Steve could be back at his mansion in a matter of-

The light on his tablet suddenly blinked red. Tony's eyes shot wide. Who in the fuck would DARE top that bid!? His drunken haze sloughed off by stronger emotions, he quickly hacked the tablet and pulled up the bid list.

A loud snarl escaped him.


No. Fucking. Way. was that little rapist getting his hands on Steve! Tony punched in another bid, even higher this time, certain he was driving the price out of range for anyone save the top ten in Forbes' Wealthiest on Earth. (of which he was currently number four).

The song was winding to a close, and Tony held his breath, eyes darting back and forth between Steve and the green light on the tablet. Seconds ticked by, torturing him with anticipation.

Once he had Steve...oh God, what would happen? This time, the rules said he would be actually allowed to do whatever he wanted to Steve. The thought didn't fill him with the feelings he expected. It wasn't triumph or satisfaction he felt. It was worry. Anxiety. Tony had basically dumped Steve, without so much as a word or even a fucking text. Would Steve still even want him? And he'd bought Steve again, like before. That wasn't what Tony wanted. Tony wanted Steve to give himself to Tony freely, because he wanted to be with Tony. Because Tony loved him.

And he realized he desperately wanted Steve to love him, too.

The song ended, and Steve was gloriously posed, thighs spread wide, body arched hard against a pole and undulating slowly.

Tony stared at him, desperately seeking Steve's gaze. "Look at me, baby, c'mon." Tony whispered hoarsely. Slowly the dais descended, and Steve straightened, looking out into the audience at last. Tony stood up, and felt a thrill as Steve locked eyes with him. Those exquisite azure pools widened in shock as they recognized him. Tony felt a bolt shoot through him. It consumed him and he forgot everything he was thinking before. He would see Steve again. They could work out the details later. Happiness blossomed up in him, pressing hard against his heart.

Until he looked down at the tablet.

The light had turned red.


17. Steve sank to his knees on the dais, shaking uncontrollably, tugging the cowl off his head and tossing it on the floor. Tony was here. Why the hell was Tony here? Tony wasn't supposed to be here. He'd dumped- dropped- Steve corrected himself- as a client! But, he hadn't bought anyone else tonight. Why was he even here?

His hands trembled as he unhooked the leash from his collar, leaving it behind, grabbing up his cloak and wrapping it around himself like a blanket as he stumbled off the dais. Natasha was there, waiting for him. Meeting her eyes, she nodded, and Steve felt a wild bolt of excitement and anticipation shoot through him. Someone had bought him?

"Tony?" He whispered, hope like he'd never known biting into his heart. Maybe this had been enough, now that Steve had changed the rules of the game, Tony would take him now, completely. Want him again.

His heart shriveled and his body went cold as Natasha shook her head slowly.


"Justin Hammer." Natasha said, her voice level and betraying nothing. "He wants you in the Midnight Room." Steve blinked. He'd never performed in the Midnight Room before. A chill ran through him. That was the BDSM room. The one that Natasha frequented. Biting his lip, he looked at her as if though she could give him help. She'd done so much for him already, helping him find the white bondage costume he wore and teaching him the leash tricks. Clint had immediately pointed him in her direction as soon as he understood what Steve was looking for.

Her eyes softened slightly and she curled an arm around him, guiding him towards the private elevators. "You do not have to do anything you do not want to. Remember that. Remember your safe word. Tell him your safe word the minute you see him. The panic buttons..." Her tone was intense, but soft, and Steve struggled to retain every piece of info she gave him. Steve began to shake again as he was led to the door of the Midnight Room.

Natasha squeezed his shoulder again. "You do not have to do anything you do not want to." She repeated. "Not even your contract can force you to. You are a free person, Steve." That actually helped calm him, and he nodded gratefully. Natasha nodded back once before melting away into the darkened hallway. Squaring his shoulders, he opened the black door and stepped inside. Just before the door closed, he heard a soft rustle in the hall. Coulson had arrived. One more shield for him to use if he needed it.

Steve forced himself to breathe in and out deep and slow, trying to keep calm. Looking around, he made himself take in everything he saw. The first time he'd seen the Midnight Room, he had only glanced, too embarrassed and shocked by what he'd seen. Now, it was something he was going to be intimately familiar with. Best that he get the lay of the land now, while he was still alone.

Keeping his cloak around him, he walked through the room slowly as he waited for his new client, Justin Hammer to arrive. The name tickled something in his memory, something about business and criminal charges, and weapons contracts with the government. He'd seen it while doing research on...on Tony.

Steve swallowed hard and pushed thoughts of Tony away. That was all done now. He focused on a shelf alongside the wall. It was lined with several sex toys, dildos and plugs and probes of various widths and lengths and textures. He shivered, reaching out to touch one carefully. It was silver in color, and after a second he realized it was actually made of steel. Steve tried to imagine what that would feel like inside him, cold and unyielding and it made his stomach queasy.

He fought it down as hard as he could, moving away from the shelf of toys and over to the bar. A drink aught to help calm him down. He saw that there was the scotch that Tony liked so much, stocked in a full bottle. Despite trying not to think about him, Steve didn't hesitate to pour himself a double of the amber liquid, tossing it back like he'd seen Tony do several times. The drink was harsh and made his throat feel raw, and coughing into his elbow, he felt a burn move down into his belly. He stood with the glass in his hand, and waited a moment until he felt a little buzz coming into his brain. Steve looked over at the other equipment in the room. Lots of it had straps and belts and chains, and one even looked like a medical bed, all in black leather and chrome. One drink wasn't enough, and Steve had two more before he felt sufficiently relaxed enough to move around the room again.

The buzz had filled his senses now, and he knew he shouldn't have had the alcohol. It was pretty much a rule for dancers here not to drink heavily while entertaining clients. Something could be done, a mistake made and they could get hurt or pushed into something non-contractual.

But Steve didn't really care at this point. He sank down onto a black leather ottoman and waited. The booze was making him lose his grip on his thoughts, and Tony was running rampant. Hurt, deeper than he'd let himself realize, suffused his feelings. He just desperately wanted to know what he'd done to drive Tony off. Last night, when they had been together in the Scarlet Room, Steve had wanted to be with Tony so badly. Still did, if he was being honest with himself. And really, in a room full of whips and paddles, how could one not be honest with themselves? It wasn't even about paying Tony back for his school tuition anymore. Tony had moved over him with such a fierce light in his eyes, an expression like he would die if he wasn't touching Steve. And Steve had seen it, surrendered to it, wanted to be consumed by it. And Tony had touched him so possessively...focusing everything on Steve's pleasure, wanting him to enjoy it to the fullest, giving his full focus to Steve.

Oh God, Steve had never felt this way about anyone. He wanted to show Tony how he felt, show him that he loved what Tony was doing to his body, to his heart, his mind.

Steve wanted to show Tony that he loved him. That thought didn't even freak him out at all. Of course he had fallen in love with the most unattainable man on the planet. It was a cosmic joke on Steve, wasn't it? Poor little poor boy Steve falling desperately in love with the most charming and amazingly handsome prince.

But Tony, with all his worldly experience, must have seen it in Steve's eyes, and didn't want that. Must've thought Steve really was trying to take him for all he was worth, faking his feelings to manipulate Tony. That hit him in the gut like a sucker punch, and he felt his eyes sting. If only he'd been able to talk to Tony, like Tony said they would, to explain.

Steve exhaled with a shudder, biting his tongue to stop his eyes from stinging. But that was all done with now. He'd never have the chance to explain.

The buzz was a sad fog now, and Steve wished he hadn't touched the booze. He stood up and made himself circuit the room, putting names to the things Natasha had told him about hastily, and other things he had learned in pursuit of research. Some of these things he even thought he might have wanted to try with Tony, if Tony had wanted.

No. No more Tony! Steve ground his teeth together and strode over to the bar, looking for something else to drink, and to check the time. His client should have been here by now. Steve huffed looking down at his body, swallowing some vodka. He was no where near hard. Maybe he should try getting aroused before this Hammer showed up. Nobody wanted an uninterested partner. And he aught to get used to getting hard with people he didn't really want, right?

Returning to the ottoman, Steve knelt down on it, tying his cloak back on, freeing his hands. He palmed his cock through his thong and rubbed gently, trying not to think of Tony, but trying to get aroused all the same. The bondage cuffs and harness were just tight enough to chase off the edge of any pleasure he found physically. He thought about taking them off, but he didn't know what Hammer would want from him. He tried every mental image he could think of, but nothing gave him the hot spark that Tony did. wasn't as if Hammer could see inside his mind and know what Steve was thinking. And as long as he was hard, it didn't really matter did it?

Sighing, he closed his eyes and slipped his hand into his thong, fisting his cock, already semi-hard just thinking of Tony's name. The memory of last night was bright in his mind, and Steve surrendered to it, the memory of the feel of Tony's body, his hands....his mouth....oh God, how Tony's mouth had moved on Steve's cock, wet and hot, hungry and wanting. It had been incredible, pleasure like nothing Steve had ever known.

Steve was rock hard in heartbeats.

Now he just had to maintain that, without coming, and without the memory of Tony consuming his focus.

He teased himself, like he'd seen Tony do often, gently tugging with light fingers, and rubbing the slit. Gasping and jerking, Steve almost brought himself to come, it felt so good. He clenched his jaw and struggled to draw himself back from the brink.

Where was his client? This wasn't going to be easy for Steve to maintain...

Oh, Tony...I miss you.

Shouts in the hallway startled him, making his hand jerk out of his thong out of reflex. There were muffled thumps and curses, more shouting, voices Steve didn't recognize. And then there was one he did.



Tony was here. He was coming for Steve!

Heart kicking into racing speed, he scrambled to his feet and rushed for the door. Just before he reached it, it burst open and a tangle of limbs and men spilled in onto the floor. Tony and another man were locked together, throwing fists and curses, kicking and hitting viciously. Coulson was there, and so were Victoria and Carol, two of his security team, trying to pull them apart. Steve was so happy to see Tony that he shouted his name, making Tony's head snap up, eyes wild and seeking.

Hammer- it had to be Justin Hammer- took advantage of the distraction and landed a punch into Tony's jaw. Steve became incensed with rage and charged forward, dropping an elbow onto Hammer's temple and shoving him away. Tony struggled to his feet, reaching out for Steve, but Coulson was suddenly there, putting Tony in a chokehold.

"Steve!" Tony cried out, voice ragged and intense all at the same time. He fought against Coulson's hold, but the shorter man simply pressed his forearm tighter against Tony's throat. Steve darted forward, reaching out for Tony, to help. That just made Tony fight harder.

"Carol, take Steve down to his dressing room. Victoria, notify Fury that we're bringing these two up to his office." Despite the struggle, Coulson's voice was just as calm and unruffled as always. Steve just shook his head, confused and angry, shrugging off Carol's hand.

"No, I don't want to go! Coulson, let Tony go!" Steve shouted. He heard Carol sigh beside him, muttering in annoyance, something about lovesick idiots. The woman was as tall as he was, built like a brick house and who was trained to take him out easily. But she hesitated, looking pointedly over at Coulson for a moment. Steve took that chance and stepped back over to Tony, grabbing his hand and squeezing. Blood trickled from his mouth and Steve growled again. Tony squeezed back and he stopped struggling against Coulson.

"You going to behave, Stark? Or do I need to taze you and leave you drooling into the carpet?" Coulson's words were quiet, but no one doubted that he'd do what he said. Tony grumbled an agreement and Coulson dropped his arms. Steve caught Tony as he lurched forward, breathing heavily, smelling of scotch and angry sweat. Carefully, he led him over to a black leather chair that was situated near something Steve was pretty sure was not called a Wheel of Fortune.

Tony didn't look up at him, just gripped his hand like it was a lifeline. Steve didn't say anything, just knelt beside him and waited.

A few minutes passed, and abruptly, a whiny voice filled the room.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Why the hell does he want Stark? I paid the most for him! You! Come here! Right now!" Justin Hammer had gotten to his feet and was snapping his fingers now at Steve, calling to him like an animal.

Steve frowned, opening his mouth, but Tony was faster. A low, hot growl registered in Steve's ears and making his heart flip, and then there was a blur of movement. Tony was charging for Hammer, and before Coulson could stop it, Tony rammed the heel of his palm straight up and into in Hammer's nose, the wet crunch sounding very loud in the air. The shorter man dropped like a stone, going quiet.

Carol just chuckled softly. "Getting slow there, Phil."

Coulson sniffed. "No. Just didn't want to listen to him anymore. Figured Stark would take care of it, and I wouldn't be in trouble with Fury for assaulting a client."

Victoria and Carol chuckled in agreement. Steve frowned and stood up, clearing his throat. Tony had ignored the exchange and spit on Hammer's prone form on the ground, turning sharply to look at Steve.

"Steve." He murmured, one eye looking like it was swelling, lips cut and bruised. He spread his arms, and Steve rushed into them, kissing those hurt lips. Steve felt Tony shudder and wrap tightly around him, kissing back desperately. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Couldn't let him, anyone, have you, take you. He's a fucker, rotten fucker. So sorry, didn't want to take you, like I'd bought you, didn't want you to regret. Wanted you freely, wanted you, so sorry, Steve, baby. Thought you'd leave, thought you were gone. M'so sorry, Steve, baby, love you, I'love you." Tony rambled in half-formed phrases against his mouth, through kisses, and Steve felt tears in his eyes, trying to keep from sobbing. He couldn't say anything, too overwhelmed, too happy to be in Tony's arms now. So he kissed back, letting his mouth say without words every feeling he had for this man.

A loud, insistent throat-clearing was heard behind them. Tony huffed angrily and pulled his mouth away. "What?"

"Upstairs. Now." Coulson's voice was hard-edged this time, brooking no argument.

"Fuck you, Rent-A-Cop. Tell Fury I'll pay ten percent over Hammer's bid, and Steve never works here again." Tony's voice was harder, and hotter. He didn't wait for Coulson's reply, he had seemed to realize what room they were standing in. Tony's hands gripped Steve's shoulders and he pulled back, eyes wide and ....horrified. "That little fucker wanted here!?" Tony roared and turned, running for Hammer and kicking him hard in the side. The security agents didn't even try to stop him. "Fucking sick fucking little prick! You don't EVER fucking come near him again!! I'll fucking grind you into the fucking dirt!!" Tony shouted again at the unconscious form, spitting once more before striding over and grabbing Steve's arm. "C'mon, we're leaving."

Steve was reeling, thrilled and out of his mind with feelings and he let himself be led by Tony out into the hallway. He must've had some strange look on his face because Tony stopped and took his hands abruptly, turning them face to face.

"I mean, do you want to come with me, Steve?" Tony said, low and shaking. "I didn't buy you- I mean, I bought out Hammer's bid, but I don't want you t'sleep with me just because of my money, t'try and repay me. I don't want you selling yourself to me because you- Steve?" Tony's voice dropped an octave and cracked on his name. His jaw worked and there was a sheen of tears in his eyes.

Steve had reached out and slid a hand through Tony's hair, drawing him close. Lips barely touching, Steve gazed into Tony's beautiful dark eyes and said clearly. "I love you, Tony. me, too. Take me away from here."

Tony's eyes widened and a brilliant smile bloomed on his face, shining through the blood. Steve's heart felt like it would burst seeing that smile. "I'd sweep you off your feet and carry you bridal style if you and goddamn gravity would let me get away with it." Tony said, only half joking as he wrapped an arm around Steve's middle and guided him towards the elevators.


18. The car ride back to his mansion was a blur of touches and kisses, soft murmurs and laughter, and happiness that he'd never really felt before. Steve was in his arms now, telling Tony that he loved him, that he wanted to be with him. Tony had carefully peeled the bondage gear off of Steve's body, grinning wickedly when Steve said he would like to keep it. They were gonna have so much fun together. He left it in a pile in the backseat, keeping on Steve's pretty little scrap of white silk, wrapping him in his white cloak and trying his best not to succumb to Steve's wiles while still in the car!

"Its only a few more minutes, baby." Tony murmured against Steve's soft red lips, stroking his hands down over Steve's back as the blonde cuddled against him. Steve was touching him all over, getting handsier the closer they got to the mansion, whispering how much he wanted Tony, how he didn't want to wait. "My bed, gorgeous. Its huge, lots of soft pillows, sheets you want to melt into..." He bit into his lip as Steve's breath sighed in pleasure, and groaned when Steve's hand tried for the tenth time to get into Tony's pants. Gently, he pulled it away and kissed his fingertips with a smile. "Soon...c'mon, soon....I want to do this right for you."

And Tony really did. He had never been so honest with himself as he'd been this morning, thinking about how someone should make love to Steve for the first time. Clearly, the dozen dates of romance and dinners would have to wait, but Tony didn't think Steve would mind if all that came after. Oh....God...after! The thought that Steve would still be with him in the morning, and after was just as amazing and awesome as making love to him!

Finally they arrived at Tony's place, Steve's eyes going wide and his mouth dropping in a cute 'o' of awe. It was that wicked shape of his lips that made Tony hurry Steve inside, promising a grand tour in the morning if Steve wanted it. Although Tony intended to keep them both in Tony's bed for the next three days, if at all possible.

The rest of the house leading to Tony's room was a blur, like the car, Steve would stop every few feet and push Tony against the wall, hungry for more kisses, or Tony would do the same to him, their bodies aching for each other, cocks rock hard and ready.

Making it to the bedroom, Tony pulled Steve inside, leading them to the bed. They sat down on the edge and kissed deeply, Steve pulling at Tony's clothing, getting Tony down to his boxers and his button down shirt. The blue glow was there, but Steve didn't seem to notice. Tony was grateful for a few more minutes before having to explain it, untying and pushing off Steve's cloak. "Tony?" Steve whispered against his lips, the quiet question in his voice making Tony pull back and look up at him.

"What is it? Are you hungry? I can order in, whatever you want. Do you want to shower first? I've got this amazing walk-in shower, rainfall head, sixteen wall spouts, heated floor, bench seat." Steve put his fingers to Tony's lips, and Tony kissed them, sighing. "What do you need, Steve? Anything, name it. Its yours."

Steve shook his head, smile gone soft, apparently pleased at hearing Tony say his name. "Will it hurt?" He bit down on his lower lip anxiously, fingers curling tighter into Tony's bicep.

Tony's heart flipped, and he felt anxiety filling his own chest. God, he wanted to do this so right, only wanted Steve to feel pleasure...but...there was no denying that the first time, there was gonna be some pain. "We'll go slow, Steve. We have all the time in the world." He lifted a hand and stroked it through Steve's hair, pulling him in to punctuate with a kiss, and then another. "I'll make this so good for you, I swear."

Steve smiled at him then, lifting his hand to mirror in Tony's hair. "I know. I love you. I trust you." The sound of Steve giving his love was just as sweet as hearing that Steve trusted him. "But..."

Goddamn those fucking 'buts'.

"I want for both of us..." Steve slid his hand down from Tony's hair, brushing through his goatee, and down, fingertips resting on the top button of Tony's shirt. " be completely naked." Gently, Steve popped the button, the nearly nonexistent sound loud in Tony's ears. "Please? I want all of you against all of me. Completely." His fingers drifted down to the next button, pausing as Steve gazed into Tony's eyes, asking permission. If he wasn't so anxious, Tony would have laughed at the virgin asking the slut's permission.

Swallowing hard, Tony took his hand from Steve's hair and moved it over Steve's. Steve's smile faltered for a heartbeat, and it caused a pang of agony in Tony's chest. Steve started to pull away, fearing he was being rejected. Tony held his hand fast, and together, they popped the next button on his shirt. "Okay," Tony whispered, giving his trust over to Steve, surrendering completely. "Completely."

He was rewarded with a brilliant smile and a sweet, soft laugh as their fingers fumbled together working down through Tony's buttons. Soon the last one was open and Steve slid both palms, warm and strong, between the fabric, and slowly pushed them over Tony's shoulders and down his arms. Tony shivered, feeling the caress keenly. It had been the first time someone had touched him there...since the incident.

Now the only barrier that remained was his tank top undershirt. The blue glowing circle seemed to pulse softly and Steve stared at it, mesmerized. Slowly, like he didn't want to scare Tony, he reached down and gently gripped the hem of the tank top, waiting for Tony's say-so. Tony nodded and Steve lifted in a rush. "Just please, don't freak out-"

Steve's answer was muffled as the shirt was drawn up over, Tony lifting his arms and pulling it off. Before he could lower his arms, he felt a touch on his chest that had him gasping in surprise...and...and pleasure. Steve was touching him with gentle fingertips, tracing around the circular device in his chest. Looking down, bracing himself for the worst, Tony saw that Steve wasn't staring at the arc reactor. He was looking up at Tony with wide, happy eyes.

"Thank you," Steve whispered. "I- I know this is private for you. Thank you for trusting me to see it. If you want, if- if its okay," Steve stammered, leaning closer to his chest. "I'd like to know more about it. But..." He leaned closer, veering off center. Tony held his breath. "Right now...I'd rather..." Steve closed the distance and parted his lips, soft tongue darting out to lick at Tony's nipple.

"Steve! Oh god, yeah!" Tony cried out, eyes closing in bliss as Steve sucked his nipples. Tony loved it, had missed it badly, never trusting a lover to get close enough to see the reactor, thus leaving his nips woefully neglected. As it was, they were now starved for attention and stiffened for Steve's mouth, every lick and suck and "OH FUCK yes bite 'em!" Tony bucked, cock spurting a little with every touch. Steve pressed gently into Tony's body, and Tony laid back onto the bed.

For long minutes, Steve worked Tony's nipples, mouth on one, fingers on the other, until Tony was writhing and pleading. Just like Steve had done when their positions had been reversed. Pressing Steve up, Tony panted, shoving at his boxers. "Goddamn, virgin. I thought I was the one supposed to be taking you!" Steve just grinned and Tony laughed, pushing off the boxers, and slowly peeling off Steve's silky white and gold thong before grabbing Steve in his arms and rolling them over. Tony pinned Steve easily, winding their limbs together.

"So take me, then, Tony." Steve said, the tension in his voice betraying the smile on his lips. "Please, I want you." Swallowed hard, Tony dipped and licked, feeling the motion on Steve's throat. "Oh god Tony, please!" He bucked, grinding his cock against Tony's and Tony was in heaven again, savoring and delighting in the feel of their entire bodies bare and slick, rubbing together. "Tony..." Steve whispered, Tony leaning in close to Steve's mouth, kissing and barely hearing, "....oh, dance with me Tony, please?"

Fuck. Yes. How could he ever resist a plea from Steve like that? He rolled to the side, and dragged them both up to the head of the bed, propping Steve up on a mountain of downey pillows, getting him as comfortable as possible. "Be right back, gorgeous." Tony stole a few kisses and hopped off the bed, snagging a bottle of lube from his nightstand. Strawberry flavored, his favorite. He grabbed a couple of condoms, too, tucking them under the pillows as he settled down beside Steve.

Steve was touching himself, stroking down over his body, teasing his cock like Tony did, quick light tugs and rubs against his wet slit. Tony grinned, "Learned a bit from me, hmmm?" Tony teased.

The answering blush spread down over Steve's body and Tony could only groan and praise whatever deity was listening that there was such a creation in this world like Steve, and that he was all Tony's. That was still making him reel, and he had to shake himself back to the moment, caught up in staring at the man spread out beneath him, waiting with no patience whatsoever.

It was glorious.

"Okay," Tony murmured, leaning down to kiss the blonde and explain a few things. The bottle top of the lube popped open in his hands and he squirted the thick silicone based stuff onto his fingers, warming it thoroughly. "I'm gonna finger you now, open you up. Gonna suck you off and make you come on my fingers first, get you totally relaxed. Is that okay, sweetheart?" Tony actually began shaking with nerves, worried that he'd hurt his lover.

Steve only moaned and nodded eagerly, spreading his perfect thighs wider for him. Tony kissed him again, harder, trailing slick fingertips down Steve's body, teasing nipples and ridges of muscle, delighting in the soft gasps of pleasure Steve made. Slipping his tongue between Steve's lips, Tony slid his hand around Steve's cock and pumped very slowly, drawing it up and over the head. Steve cried out, arching, and Tony almost blew his load. "Goddamn, you make the most beautiful sounds, Steve." He grated, shifting his body to kneel between Steve's legs. Steve bit his lips, choking back the noises. Tony's hand paused in its attentions. "Oh no, you don't stifle yourself, gorgeous." Tony laughed gruffly, "Its sound-proof in here." He pumped Steve's cock a little harder, "Sing for me." Again, Steve arched and cried out, and Tony's chin dropped to his chest, shoulders hunching, grabbing his own cock and squeezing hard to stop from coming. "Fuck yeah, so beautiful..."

Tony focused intently on Steve now, forcing down his own pleasure. Reluctantly releasing Steve's cock, he squirted more lube onto his fingers and trailed down between Steve's ass cheeks. "Spread wider for me," Tony nudged Steve's thighs apart with his knees, Steve happily obliging on a sigh. But when Tony's fingertip slid down and brushed over Steve's puckered flesh, Steve gasped and tensed up.

"Shhh...relax for me..." Tony coaxed gently, pressing more firmly on Steve's entrance and rubbing circles there. Steve shuddered and dropped his head back, spreading himself even wider. "Good. So good for me." Tony praised, shifting his body down and back, laying down on the bed between Steve's legs. His cock rubbed against the soft blankets and he forced himself not to buck and thrust, or this was gonna be over before it started. "Gonna slip my finger in now, okay?" Steve's eyes were squeezed shut and he nodded again as Tony slowly dipped his finger inside. A hot groan burst from him at how he felt Steve's tight ring quiver and clench. God, this on his cock!? He was never gonna survive it. Gritting his teeth, Tony pressed in deeper and gently stirred with his finger. Steve whimpered and bucked, and Tony hissed and kissed Steve's thigh. "Tell me if you want to stop." Tony said sharply.

Steve's head shot up, blue eyes wide and anxious. "No, no please don't." He bit his lip and Tony fought hard to stop from thrusting again. "Feels good..." Steve whimpered, laying back. Tony's smile was wicked and triumphant.

"Just wait, gorgeous." Tony pushed his finger deeper slowly, stirring and slowly working Steve open. He didn't dare stroke or suck Steve's cock yet, waiting for the right moment, not wanting to bring Steve off too soon.

For several minutes, Tony merely stirred with one finger, kissing and murmuring hot praise to his lover beneath him. Steve grew more and more restless, body tensing and shuddering until finally he lifted his head and looked Tony in the eye. "More...please, I need more..." Tony bit his lip and nodded, the pleading was a superhighway to orgasm for him and he needed to make this last, make it fucking perfect for Steve.

"Relax now, breathe for me," Tony said, drawing his forefinger back and fitting the middle beside it, gently pressing into Steve. Steve arched off the bed with a wail and Tony gently pressed his hip down, pinning him. "I hurt you?" Tony grated, but Steve was shaking his head, gripping the sheets and trying to stop himself from thrusting onto Tony's fingers.

"More, I need more, Tony!" Steve whimpered, and Tony's body burst into hot sparks of pleasure. "I can take it, please, Tony!" Tony couldn't answer him, but added a third finger, his other hand circling around Steve's cock and tightening slowly. As he thrust three fingers in, he pumped down on Steve's cock slowly.

Steve yelled out and beneath Tony's hand, he felt Steve's cock pulse. Quickly he stopped moving and squeezed the base of Steve's cock tight, stopping him from coming. "Tony!" Steve cried, head snapping up, "Why!? Feels so good, I need to..."

Tony kissed Steve's hip, nibbling and licking there, holding his hands inside and around Steve's flesh absolutely still. "Not yet, not yet...there's more...soon, gonna be even better, I promise." Tony's words were slurred and he felt drunk. The best kind of drunk ever. Steve was exquisite, responding to just his fingers this way. He smiled when Steve writhed and gasped out his frustrations, clawing at the sheets.

Long minutes passed as they both calmed down, Tony just licking and kissing the insides of Steve's thighs and his hips, murmuring all sorts of romantic nonsense he'd heard from other lovers, but never believed. "You're perfect, so amazing. God, I want you like this always. Steve, you're so beautiful."

Steve never answered him, he kept trying to shift his body to get more of the pleasure that Tony was giving him. Tony merely smiled and dodged the efforts until he felt Steve soften slightly in his hand. "Now," he grinned, "more?"

"God, yes!"

"Hang on, baby." And Tony laughed as Steve's hands tangled in a death grip in the sheets. "Good." He stirred his three fingers inside Steve and thrust them in deeply in one move. Steve cried out in pain this time, but Tony was ready. He sucked Steve's softening cock into his mouth and took him to the back of his throat, humming. Instantly Steve's cry of pain changed to pleasure, dick stiffening to throbbing hardness between his lips.

Tony thrust again, curling his fingers, thrusting deep and sure, searching for that one little spot. Sucking slowly, Tony nudged around until he felt that tell-tale swelling of ridged flesh. Looking up at Steve, he stopped moving until Steve grunted in frustration and looked down at him. When their eyes met, Tony rubbed the sweet spot and sucked at the same time.

The look on Steve's face and the sound he made would be the stuff of Tony's jerk-off fantasies forever. Steve's gorgeous eyes widened, lips parting and he wailed, louder and higher and longer than ever before. Tony moaned around his mouthful of cock and attacked, thrusting his fingers, rubbing Steve's sweet spot and sucking hungrily. "Tony! Oh my God! Tony, Tony, TONY! TONY!!"

Steve bucked and arched off the bed, screaming his name and coming hard into Tony's mouth. Tony sucked and swallowed, working his fingers faster, milking every last bit from Steve's body. Only when Steve collapsed back to the bed, breathing hard and shaking, moaning in sensitive gasps did Tony gingerly slip his fingers free, gently tonguing Steve's cock, giving that pleasure to override the inevitable slight pain of his fingers leaving Steve's body.

Tony bit down hard on his tongue to give himself pain, to distract himself from the wild ache in his cock as he tried not to grind into the sheets. He failed and he thrust several times as he licked and kissed Steve all over, forcing himself to lift his body and crawl up Steve's, laying down atop him. Steve was still moaning and wound himself around Tony, hungry for kisses and cuddles.

"Tony, ohmigod, I've never - so hard...fuuuuuck." Steve panted, still trembling. Tony was thoroughly pleased, not only with Steve but with himself, proud that he'd given that pleasure to Steve. And they hadn't even fucked yet.

"Tony? What is it?" Steve's brow furrowed and he touched Tony's lips. Tony realized that he had started frowning.

"Gonna give you a few minutes to recover and then I need," Tony swallowed hard, "to make love to you." This would not be fucking. This would be two people sharing love in its purest physical form. His voice was rough and deep and he felt Steve shiver under him.

"Please, Tony, now..." Steve kissed him deeply, spreading his thighs wide and sliding his hands down to encourage Tony to slide between them. It made Tony groan, his own cock so hard it was painful. "Need you, want you...make love to me, Tony." Steve looked up at him, beautiful eyes just shining with feelings and needs and Tony's chest swelled and tightened.

He could only nod, sliding his hand under the pillows to find a condom. When the packet flashed in the light, Steve's hand reached up and curled around it.

"Are you clean?" Steve asked quietly. Tony nodded, he was tested every six weeks. His eyes widened at the implications of the question and he could scarcely bear the hope that clawed his scarred chest. Steve smiled. "Then don't..."

Tony kissed him wildly in thanks and praise, tossing the condom away. Couldn't be more perfect, no barriers between them! He threw a hand out, scrambling for the lube, popping it open and squirting out way more than was necessary, but he wanted this to be as easy and as pleasurable for Steve as possible. Slicking himself, he fisted the base and drew the tip down over Steve's cock and over his balls, sliding it down between the perfectly rounded flesh there. With a soft moan, he nudged the tip to Steve's entrance. Looking up, he watched his lover's face carefully.

"Touch yourself, stroke slow and gentle," Tony rasped, "It'll distract you, help it feel better." He lifted up away from Steve and braced a hand on Steve's thigh as he watched Steve comply. The blonde slowly began stroking himself, shuddering at how sensitive it was. Tony licked his lips and gently began pressing the tip of his cock into Steve. Steve's eyes closed and his breath hitched, then stopped. "Keep breathing, keep touching, it's okay. I promise, I'll make you feel so good." Tony ground out and Steve inhaled deeply as Tony pushed in further, until the head of his cock was inside, the tight muscle ring throbbing and pulsing around him. His eyes rolled back, right along with his head. "Oh my God, Steeeeve..." Tony whispered, dropping his chin back down and watching Steve keep breathing and stroking himself, face scrunched tight in concentration. "Keep doing that, keep relaxing..." Tony thrust deeper, slowly and gripped both Steve's thighs, rubbing his thumbs in small circles. The heat, the tight wetness...Tony's control was beginning to slip, and his hips jerked into a shallow thrust. Steve cried out and arched...and Tony's eyes shot wide as he watched Steve's cock harden in seconds.

"Tony! Yes!" Steve panted, stroking his cock faster. Tony battled with himself, desperately trying not to thrust as hard and deep as he wanted.

"Calm down, don't want to hurt you!" Tony grunted, but Steve was already lifting his hips and trying to get Tony deeper.

"Feels so good, Tony! More! Please! I need it!"
Ahhhh, God, those pleas. Tony was helpless against that. He spread his knees and shifted, slinging Steve's legs up over his shoulders. Closing his eyes, he leaned down and kissed wetly with tongue and lips, deeper, bracing himself.

"Tony!" The hand between them stroking cock and the sound of his name in Steve's needy voice. He bit down on Steve's lower lip and thrust. Hard.

Steve screamed and clenched around him and Tony hissed out a breath, struggling and fighting to keep from coming as Steve's hand clawed up into his hair, his other still pumping his cock. The blonde's hips were lifting and began trying to meet Tony's, Tony succumbed and thrust again, and again...

Steve's body was tight, slick and hot beneath his, bent nearly double as Tony pounded inside him. "Didn't want to rough...first time...I'm sorry...I'm sorry..." Tony panted, but Steve silenced him with another kiss, hot and rough with tongue and teeth.

"Don't stop, please Tony! Ahh, God makes me feel so good! You're so hard, so deep in me! Do it harder! Deeper!" Steve was wailing loudly now and Tony felt himself going insane. Grabbing Steve's hips he pumped harder, and began grinding in short shallow thrusts. "THERE! OH GOD TONY THERE!" Steve screamed and Tony hammered at his sweet spot, dripping sweat and desperate to make Steve come again. His own orgasm was at the brink and ....

"Tony touch me! Ohhnn please, touch me!" Steve let go of his cock and grabbed Tony's hand, bringing it down to wrap around the stiff thickness. Tony moaned loud and long, feeling how hard and wet Steve was, dripping! "Make me come! Make me come!" Steve's hands reached down and grabbed Tony's ass, squeezing and encouraging. Tony's breath became panted curses and hot promises as he savagely pumped Steve's cock, thrusting his own aching cock deep inside him.

"Ohhhh fuck yeah, fuck yeah, fuck yeah! Gonna make you come so goddamn hard! Fucking god, Steve you're so fucking hot! Every day, every night, like this, always, always oh God Steve yeah! Come hard for me, baby! Shoot hard, come right up on my face!" Tony's control was gone now and he was wild on top of Steve, thrusting hard, and aiming Steve's cock towards his mouth, hand pumping in time with his thrusts. "Show me how much you love me, Steve! Want your come! Give it to me!" Tony roared and his balls clenched, "Fuuuuuuck! God, I'm gonna fucking come, baby! Steve with me, come with me now! Steve!!!" He howled and felt his orgasm break him into atoms, and Steve wailed his name, shattering those atoms into particles with hot clenches and the splash of salty hot love up onto his lips, over his chest. Tony thrust several times more, working every last heartbeat and clench of climax out of both of them.

Tony's arms shook wildly and it was with great effort that he managed to slowly leave Steve's body, rearrange his limbs and lay down beside him. It felt like he'd been turned inside out with pleasure, happiness radiating inside him like there was an arc reactor in his soul. Steve was shaking too, a trembling that charmed Tony to no end. He wrapped himself around the blonde and held him tightly, kissing gently and sweetly, murmuring praise and love words that actually meant something. Steve responded with soft shy smiles, the gleam of teeth and the sparkle in his eyes just piled on the charm for Tony. That was love he saw in those eyes, love for Tony and Tony alone. And he knew his own reflected it back.

Getting up, despite Steve's quiet protests, Tony fetched a warm washcloth and cleaned them both up. Then he drew up the covers and wrapped himself around Steve again. Steve turned over and wrapped himself around Tony. They cocooned themselves in each others limbs and kissed softly, lightly and gently, over and over, sharing sweet sleepy words until sleep claimed them both.



19. Epilogue: One Year Later...


It was a whirlwind romance that evolved into something deeper and more meaningful as the time they spent together increased. Today it was one day before it was one year to the date of the first time Tony had laid eyes on Steve at Mon Coeur. And Tony had never been happier in his entire life.

After six months of wooing Steve with every ounce of effort that he'd never used in his 40 years, Tony finally convinced him to move into Tony's mansion. And it had been awesome. They spent nights on the couch watching bad movies, or nights out at galleries or traveling the world over. Tony lavished love onto Steve, but always careful to ask if it was 'too much' or 'not enough'. He'd learned that he never wanted Steve to be a kept man. Steve had insisted on continuing school, and Tony had encouraged him wholeheartedly. In fact, on their first Valentine's Day, Steve had gifted Tony with an intimate self-portrait and Tony had it framed in the finest woods and gildings, and had it hanging in his workshop.

It was also the wallpaper on every single piece of electronics he owned. Including the TV, which made Steve blush, which was one of the reasons Tony never took it down. Tony wanted Steve to see how much he meant to the billionaire.

So as it was a day before the anniversary of the first day they met, Tony had been planning something very special. Steve had said that he didn't want anything extravagant or outrageous, which was pretty much the only way Tony knew how to do things. So of course, Tony took it on as a challenge and God, did he love that. Steve challenged him constantly, always making him think and see things in different ways, keeping him on the edge. That had never faded in the year they'd been together, and Tony knew it would never fade.

And that's what made tonight so special.

Tony picked Steve up from school that afternoon, and with only a kiss and a smile as an explanation, drove him off out of the city, heading north into the mountains. There was a spectacular meteor shower due that night and Tony wanted to show Steve the stars in a way that you couldn't see from New York.

A secluded mountain cabin, a gourmet picnic with a roaring rooftop fire, complete with champagne and strawberries were among the things waiting for them. Tony couldn't stop smiling, reaching out to touch Steve whenever he could, excited most of all for the other thing that was waiting...

Waiting in a small velvet box, nestled safely inside Tony's coat pocket...