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Steve and Tony Make a Porno

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Steve manages to get in the door without blushing, which he feels pretty proud of, considering the circumstances. Not that there’s a big neon sign over the door flashing PORN STUDIO or anything. It’s discreet. Steve would never have let Bucky talk him into coming this far if it weren’t.

He takes a deep breath and reminds himself he can do this—needs to do this, even. But no one but Bucky can ever know, because if Steve’s mom works out how he’s paying for her TB treatment, she’ll leave the hospital and go back on the cheap drugs, and those aren’t working. Steve loves being an artist, but it doesn’t pay that well.

Fortunately, Steve’s pretty sure his mom doesn’t watch a lot of porn.

Still, even though he knows he’s fairly safe, he keeps his voice down when he asks the (perfectly respectable) receptionist, “Excuse me, miss. I—my name is Steve Rogers. I’m supposed to have a screen test this afternoon. Would you happen to know where I…?”

The receptionist blinks up at him from behind thick plastic frames. Okay, maybe she’s not perfectly respectable. She’s wearing a dark shade of lipstick and the neckline of her blouse sort of—plunges—which Steve isn’t judging her for, he’s not, and it takes him a minute to work out that he’s staring at her boobs. Which are very nice. The one on the left is apparently called Darcy, judging by the nametag.

She raises an eyebrow and hands him a clipboard. If she noticed his rudeness, she doesn’t mention anything. Actually, she looks him up and down before giving him a smile that makes him think of a great white shark. “Aren’t you just the cutest thing. Oh, honey, they are gonna love you. Here, go sit over there and fill this out, and then I’ll show you around, okay?”

Steve meekly does as he’s told and tries (and fails) to hold back a blush. Darcy scares him.

“Any questions?” she asks when he sets the forms down on top of her desk. “I mean about the paperwork,” she clarifies as she scans through it. Her eyebrows go right up when she reaches the section on past experience, and Steve somehow doesn’t die of embarrassment. He figured someone was going to read this, but he didn’t know she was going to read it in front of him.

“Um, no,” Steve answers. “It was all pretty straightforward.”

“Good.” Darcy tucks the clipboard under her arm as she stands. “Well, everything looks to be in order, so I guess we can get on with the tour. Right this way.”

Steve despairs. Darcy’s wearing high heels, and old-fashioned stockings with seams up the back, which he can see because her skirt is really short. And she only represents half of the genders he’s attracted to. Which she knows, since that information is on the stupid form.

“It’s just a screen test,” Darcy tells him, “so you don’t have much to worry about. They’ll ask you some questions and ask you to get naked, but no one will touch you unless you ask for it. We want to ease you into things.”

None of this is helping Steve freak out less.

“Change rooms are here.” Darcy points. “I’ll get you a fresh robe before your call. Stripping on camera is a skill not everyone gets right away.”

Steve swallows hard, because stripping on camera—that’s going to be a regular thing now. Well, if this goes well. What does that say about his life? “Thanks.”

Waving him off, Darcy continues toward the back of the building. “We have a couple different sets back here. There are two different bedrooms, a living room, and a kitchen mocked up at the moment. I think they’re doing a scene in the kitchen right now; I’ll show you in a minute. But first we’ll check out yours. You’re in bedroom one, looks like a college dorm. Perfect.”

Right. Steve’s been out of college two years now, but he remembers how much action his dorm room didn’t see.

They pass through a wide hallway with shelves on either side, and Darcy pulls down a plastic-wrapped terrycloth robe and hands it over. “Here, you’ll want this later.”

“Thanks,” he says again and does his best not to freak out.

In fairness, the set isn’t bad. It’s bigger than an actual dorm room, obviously, to allow for cameras and—crew—and stuff, but other than that it’s surprisingly comfortable. There aren’t any posters on the wall, probably for some weird intellectual copyright reasons, but other than that and the lack of a huge pile of laundry on the floor, it really could be a dorm room.

“I think everyone’s still on the kitchen shoot,” Darcy tells him. “Well, and Jane’s out getting lunch, but she does the video editing, we don’t need her around all the time.”

Steve hasn’t even met Jane and she’s going to see him naked. The back of his neck itches.

Then Darcy’s phone rings. “One sec, Apple Pie, I have to take this”—and she reaches up and taps the piece of plastic in her ear. “Go for Darcy.”

Whoever’s on the other end, they must be someone important, because Darcy’s whole body language changes from casual to military tense. “Of course,” she says briskly. “No, God, don’t do that, he hates that, Jesus. Natasha. No. Show him into the office and I’ll be there in a minute, okay? And try not to punch him for hitting on you.”

She taps the headset again and gives Steve that shark smile. “Looks like I’ll have to wrap up the tour later. Why don’t you go make yourself comfortable and I’ll meet you in the change room?”

She makes it sound so… professional. Oh God, please don’t let his screen test be with Darcy. She’ll eat him alive. “Sure,” he says, impressed that he manages to keep his voice even. “I’ll just… yeah.”

So he goes back to the change room, takes off his clothes, and stacks them in an empty locker before shrugging into the robe and the pair of hotel slippers that were packaged with it. And then he sits down and waits.

And waits.

And waits.

Steve wonders if maybe time goes slower when you’d really like to get something over with.

Finally the door opens again, only it’s not Darcy standing there. Instead, it’s a man wearing tight-fitting jeans and an AC-DC T-shirt. He’s probably older than most porn stars—what? Steve’s a man, he’s watched porn before; he didn’t go into this without doing his research—but he wears the years well, and the goatee is pretty sexy. His warm brown gaze flicks up and down Steve’s body just as assessingly as Darcy’s did, with the possible exception that Steve’s wearing a lot less this time, but then he just quirks a smile. “First time, huh?”

And somehow the way he says it puts Steve right at ease. “Am I that obvious?”

“You’re wringing your hands.”

Oh. So he is. Steve stops right away. “Sorry.” He wipes said hands on his robe, then stands up and offers one to shake. “Steve Rogers.”

The man looks at him for a long second, and Steve wonders if he’s trying to figure out if that’s Steve’s real name. Oops. Maybe Steve should’ve thought of that. He knows most porn stars go by something else. But eventually the man just says, “Tony.”

They shake. Amazingly, it isn’t awkward. Okay, Steve can do this. “So, uh, I guess you’re here for my screen test?”

“I guess I am,” Tony says. “Lucky me.”

Steve blushes. It seems to be his default reaction today. “I don’t know about that.”

“Trust me,” Tony assures him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “I know what I’m talking about. You’re gonna be fine.”

Well, if Tony thinks so. He’s the one with the experience. “Okay. Oh, Darcy said I should check out the scene they’re wrapping in the kitchen—maybe you could show me?”

“It would be my pleasure,” Tony says, and it’s cheesy and a really blatant innuendo, but he sounds like he means it, so Steve lets it slide. “After you.”

Which is how he ends up wheezing into his knees—and the robe isn’t all that long, so God only knows what Steve has on display—outside the kitchen shoot, because there was a naked guy in there with a rolled-up newspaper smacking some poor man dressed up like a dog, with a—a tail shoved up his—

He barely hears the click-click-click of Darcy’s heels. “What did you do to him?”

“Don’t look at me,” Tony answers from behind Steve, where he is making himself useful by reminding Steve to breathe when he does. “Apparently you’re the one who thought it was a good idea for him to observe a puppy play scene on his first day.”

There’s a pause that makes Steve think maybe Darcy is conceding Tony has a point. Then she sighs. “I have been in this business too long if I’m making that kind of mistake. Sorry, Steve. If it helps any, that’s not something we ever expect of anyone. You get to decide what kinds of things you want to try.”

It does help, and Steve calms down enough to straighten his legs—and his robe. He doesn’t even bother flushing this time. Heck, these people deal with men having sex while dressed up as animals. Nothing Steve has to show off is going to shock them. “It’s all right. I just wasn’t expecting it.”

Darcy gives him a calculating look over her clipboard. “You still up for your screen test?”

Steve takes a deep breath. He’s still a little rattled, but he needs the money. And besides—“I wouldn’t want to disappoint Tony.”

That seems to bring Darcy up short. “Tony?” she repeats.

“Sure,” he says. “I mean, he came in to do this screen test, right?”

Darcy isn’t looking at him anymore. She’s looking at Tony.

“I did come all this way,” Tony says mildly, reminding Steve that he’s essentially still pressed up against him. Well, they’re doing porn together; this isn’t so scandalous in comparison.

Steve stands up anyway, hoping he didn’t just give Darcy a show, even if she is unlikely to be affronted.

Finally Darcy says, “Okay,” and leads them to the dorm set.

Tony takes one look at it and says, “No, no, not this one, the living room one. We’ll be more comfortable there.”

Darcy firms her lips, then looks at Steve. “Your call, cuteness.”

He shrugs. “Tony’s the expert. If he says we’ll be more comfortable on another set, I trust him.”

Darcy mutters something that sounds like “unbelievable” under her breath, but she brings them to the other set anyway and starts fiddling with the camera. “Gonna need you on the couch so I can adjust the lighting. Make yourself comfortable, it could be a while.”

Steve tenses at that, because he’s not stupid—for the lighting to be right, he’s got to be naked, and he’s not sure he’s ready to take the robe off.

Tony must see him flinch, because he says, “Take a load off, Darcy. I got this one. That camera’s got Bluetooth functionality, right? I’ll control it from my phone.” He holds it up. “I think Steve would be more comfortable with just the two of us the first time.”

Darcy purses her lips. “You know it’s against policy to leave the talent unsupervised, Tony.”

“I don’t mind if you don’t mind,” Steve says. Tony’s right—the smaller the audience, the more comfortable he’ll be. “Besides, the camera will be on the whole time. It’s not like he’s going to take advantage of me.” Steve has at least four inches—height, anyway—and forty pounds of muscle on Tony. What does Darcy think he’s going to do that Steve can’t stop?

Darcy relents with a sigh. “Okay, if you insist. Supplies are in that end table drawer. Steve, the initial screen test usually just calls for an interviewer to ask you some questions to relax you, and then you jerk off for the camera. That’s it. If you want to do anything else, that’s between the two of you.”

Steve licks his lips. Sure, no problem, just leave him here with Tony to get himself off on film. Right. Except if Tony was talking about controlling filming from his phone, he probably wants to participate.

Steve is actually pretty okay with that, which makes his palms sweat. “Okay. Thanks, Darcy.”

“And if it gets too much at any time, just ask Tony to turn the camera off. He will.” Darcy fixes Tony with a flat stare. “Right, Tony?”

“Of course,” Tony says easily. “Relax. I’ll take good care of Steve.”

Darn it. Steve was doing so well with not blushing too.

Darcy points to a switch on the wall by the door. “This turns a light on outside the set letting everyone know it’s closed for filming, so you won’t be interrupted.” She flips it on. “It’s about as much privacy as you can get around here, so you kids have fun.”

Then she leaves.

Steve wonders if it wouldn’t be less awkward with her here after all.

When Tony looks up from his phone, he huffs a little laugh. “Relax, okay? I’m not going to bite you. Unless you like that.” He pauses and gets a gleam in his eyes Steve finds very… interesting. “Do you like that?”

Steve’s mouth goes dry. “Um.” He clears his throat. “I don’t know.”

Something undefinable flits across Tony’s face, but then his expression goes inscrutable, and he stands up. “I’m just going to fix the lighting,” he says. “Why don’t you slip into something a little less opaque.”

In other words, get naked. But Tony’s not watching him take the robe off, so it’s easier. At first he wonders what to do with it, but then he thinks about sitting on a—a sex couch naked, so he spreads it out and sits down on top of it. He’s not paranoid, just prudent.

The red light on the side of the camera blinks on. “So, Steve,” Tony says from behind one of the set lights, “tell me about yourself.”

Steve doesn’t know if he should turn and talk to Tony or look into the camera, but Tony can’t see him right now anyway, so that decides for him. “Uh, my name is Steve. I’m twenty-five, and I’m an artist. Mixed media, photography, some sculpture, but mostly I paint. I could probably have done the lighting, actually.”

“Trust me when I say the viewers are gonna want you in front of the camera, not behind it.” Tony means people are going to get off to pictures of Steve, but he makes it sound... nice. Not dirty. Like it’s a compliment. “What made you decide to do porn?”

The words come out before Steve can stop them. It’s just that easy to talk to Tony, even when he’s hardly paying Steve any attention at all, or maybe because of that. “My mom got sick. She was volunteering in an orphanage in Africa. Tuberculosis. The regular medications aren’t helping, but the stronger ones are expensive, and I don’t exactly make a lot of money as an artist. I love it, and it pays the bills, but only just.” He shrugs. “She’d probably kill me if she knew I was doing this for her, but I don’t regret it.”

For a few seconds, Tony doesn’t respond. Then he says, “That’s very sweet. And also kind of a boner-killer. We might have to edit that out.”

Steve laughs. “You know, that’s okay. I really am just here for the paycheck, not the glory.”

“Yeah, that’s good, we’ll use that instead.” He can hear the smile in Tony’s voice. “Okay, I think that should be good for the lighting. Let me just check the camera—”

But he stops halfway there, in front of Steve again, and Steve couldn’t stop the blush this time if his life depended on it, because Tony is staring at his dick.

Tony licks his lips. “Wow. Steve, let me just say I think you have found your true calling. And okay, the blush really does go all the way down, doesn’t it? That’s—” He takes a deep breath. “Sorry, sorry, I’m supposed to be putting you at ease, not perving over how perfect your body is. Which it is, you know, extremely.”

“I can’t focus unless I work out before I paint,” Steve explains.

Tony’s behind the camera now, so his words are muffled, but Steve’s pretty sure he just said, “Thank God for that.” Then he takes a step back. “Well, the lighting is perfect; you look like an earthbound angel, except better hung. And you’re here to make money. Anything else the viewers should know about you?”

Tony doesn’t say it outright, but Steve feels like he’s asking Anything else I should know about you? And what the heck, if Tony can fool around a little—okay, bad choice of words—so can Steve. “I prefer brunets?”

Tony laughs. “Smooth. Okay, Casanova, I think Steve Junior’s ready to get this show on the road. What about you?”

Steve looks into his own lap, and wouldn’t you know it, he’s hard. He didn’t think it would be that easy to ignore the being on camera thing. “Yeah.” It comes out in a hoarse rasp that sounds, well, pornographic. Apparently Steve is a natural. “What do you want me to do?”

“Now there’s a loaded question.” Tony sits down on the opposite side of the couch. “Why don’t we start with you touching yourself. Show me what you like.”

Yeah, Steve can do that. He trails his right hand up his own thigh and rests it there for a second before taking hold of his erection. Tony’s gaze is a physical warmth on his skin, burning him up. Steve thumbs the moisture at the head of his cock, spreads it around a little before giving himself one slow stroke. It’s good but a little dry.

“Here.” There’s a noise of sliding wood, and then Tony holds up a small tube of lubricant, still safety-sealed. He peels the plastic off and hands it across the couch.

When their fingers touch, Steve feels it down to his toes. “Thanks.” He flicks the cap open and pours some slick on his cock, hissing at the cold. He keeps his eyes on Tony.

Tony clears his throat. “Right or left-handed?”

“Ah. Ambidextrous, actually. But right, by habit.”

Eyes darkening, Tony murmurs, “Convenient.”

Steve’s breath hitches. “Yeah,” he admits, because he’s pretty sure Tony just guessed what Steve likes to do best since he can use both hands so well.

Tony taps his phone. Across the room, the camera moves just a hair. Steve looks at it, then looks back at Tony—at Tony’s obvious interest in Steve.

Steve wishes Tony would touch him, but he doesn’t know how to ask.

“Why don’t you tell me your favorite fantasy,” Tony suggests as he rubs very distractingly at the bulge in the front of his too-tight jeans.

Well, that’s one way to start. “Uh.” Steve slows his strokes further, because the longer this takes, the greater the chance he can get Tony to put his hands—his anything—near Steve’s dick. He decides to just go for it. He’s here, naked, masturbating in front of a camera and a live person he finds extremely attractive. He can’t possibly be any more embarrassed. “I’m sitting on the couch in my apartment with a friend. Just hanging out. There’s a baseball game on, maybe.”

Tony watches Steve watch him as he undoes his belt buckle. “Go on.”

Steve swallows. “We’re both a little buzzed and”—say it, Steve, you can say it, you can say—“horny, and we look at each other and we....”

When he trails off, the only sound in the room is Tony’s zipper being lowered. Steve’s heart beats triple time.

“Not much of a dirty talker, are you?” Tony says. If the way he pushes his jeans and boxers down and off is any indication, he doesn’t mind. “That’s okay, I think I can cover the both of us.”

God, Steve is so okay with that.

“Pass that lube back over here, would you, hot stuff?” Steve does. “Great.” Tony pours some in his hand, then fists his cock, which is flushed purple with arousal. “You ever done this with anyone? Jerk off together?”

Wordlessly, Steve shakes his head. He doesn’t know if he’s supposed to look at the camera, but it doesn’t matter, because he can’t take his eyes off Tony.

“Slow down, sweetheart. We’re gonna make this last. So you never jerked off with anybody. But someone’s done this to you, right? Worked you up with their hands, let you fuck into their fist?”

Steve thinks it’s a good thing Tony told him to slow down, because the words coming out of his mouth make Steve squirm in desire. He shakes his head again, then decides Tony deserves to hear his voice. “No,” he whispers. “Never.”

Tony stops stroking, and so does Steve, almost automatically. “So when you said you didn’t know if you liked being bitten....”

“Nobody ever has.” Maybe he should be embarrassed. He’s twenty-five, after all. But Steve was a scrawny kid nobody looked twice at, and an awkward young adult everyone just assumed had plenty of experience because he was good-looking. It was a lot of pressure.

For what it’s worth, Tony doesn’t seem to care. He says, “Jesus, Steve, you are dangerous,” and then he slides across the couch so their legs are touching. “You want me to touch you?”

Yes,” Steve hisses, because he sort of thought that much was obvious.

“You want me to wrap my hand around your cock and make you come, sweetness?” Tony says with his head on Steve’s shoulder. Steve thinks detachedly that he’s making sure he sees exactly what Steve does. Tony’s warm breath in his ear makes him shiver. “You want me to lean over and take it in my mouth and suck you until you scream? Let you come on my face?” The heat radiating off of him is immense. It won’t take much now. If Tony touches his dick, Steve’s going to fall apart.

Then Tony lowers his voice. “You want to do those things to me?”

Steve chokes and wraps his left hand around the base of his erection, because he isn’t ready to come. Not yet. “Yes.”

Tony holds up the bottle of lube. “I think you know what I want, Mr. Ambidextrous.”

Fortunately, Steve doesn’t have any extra blood in his body to flush with. He never expected to do that to himself in front of a camera, not his first time, but he’ll do anything to get Tony to touch him. He puts his hand out and Tony slicks his fingers.

He has to tighten his right hand on his dick this time, because even the slide of his own fingers over his hole is too much. When he pushes one in it’s like turning inside out; his skin becomes supersensitive and the steady rush of Tony’s breath over the skin on his neck makes him crazy. “Oh,” Steve says, and just then Tony slides his hand into his hair and turns his head and kisses him.

Steve feels his body tightening, trembling on the precipice, but he holds on and tastes Tony’s lips on his, Tony’s tongue in his mouth, experiences the rasp of stubble across his cheek and chin. Tony curves a warm, sticky hand over Steve’s bicep and follows it up his arm to his shoulder, his chest, ghosts it over a nipple. Then he pushes Steve’s head back and slides his lips down his neck, the goatee prickling the whole way as Steve’s pulse pounds under Tony’s tongue.

When Tony bites him, Steve comes harder than he ever has in his life. His body locks up around his finger, his nipples harden, semen floods over his right hand, and he loses all voluntary muscle control. All he can do is sit there and let it wash over him, and it’s so good, it’s mind-blowing, it’s amazing, he can’t wait to do it again. Except then he remembers Tony’s getting paid to do this, which takes the shine off a little.

At least he doesn’t have to worry about Tony faking his enthusiasm. He throws himself back into the seat cushion beside Steve, breathing hard and jerking roughly at his own cock. “Jesus Christ, Steve, fuck, you are so hot, I can’t believe that just happened, I am never this lucky, what is my life. Get over here and kiss me, please.”

At this point it’s the least Steve can do. He shakes off his stupor and turns his head, and his hands are still sticky and he doesn’t know what to do with them but it doesn’t matter, because as soon as he meets Tony’s lips with his Tony stiffens and comes, and the world is a beautiful place.

Until it’s just awkward.

Or awkward for Steve, anyway, though Tony doesn’t seem to notice. He’s apparently very busy staring at the ceiling. “So that’s a big yes on the biting thing.”

Steve makes a strangled noise of assent.

Tony huffs. “Good to know.” Then he sits up straight and looks down at himself in apparent distaste. “There’s got to be a bathroom around here somewhere,” he mutters, but in the end he just takes off his T-shirt and wipes himself with that before offering it to Steve. “It couldn’t be sacrificed for a nobler cause,” he encourages when Steve hesitates.

What the heck. It’s not like Steve wants to walk around with his own come on his hand. “Thanks.”

“Oh, honey. You never have to thank me for anything.”

Steve doesn’t know what to say to that, so he doesn’t say a word.

After another (awkward) minute, Tony stands up and puts his pants back on, and Steve shrugs back into the robe. He’s not sure he wants to leave the room, though; he knows everyone out there will know exactly what went on in here, and he doesn’t know if he can face them. Even though they knew before anything happened, it isn’t the same.

Tony saunters over to the camera, flicks it off, opens it up, and pulls out the SD card. Then he pops the back off his phone, sticks the card in there, and closes it again. That’s weird, but maybe it’s some kind of company thing. Steve doesn’t know. He fidgets.

“Come on, pumpkin, time to face the music.” He gestures toward the door.

Steve has to leave this room sometime.

Weirdly, there’s no one in the hall outside. There’s nobody in the change room either as Steve and Tony shower, separately and without speaking. But when Steve’s putting his clothes back on, he realizes Tony really cannot wear his shirt ever again. At least not without extensive laundry intervention. And he doesn’t appear to have a spare.

Steve pulls on his undershirt and hands his button-down to Tony. “Least I could do,” he offers.

Tony looks at the shirt like it might bite him, before accepting it with a shrug. “You’re a good guy, Steve,” he says at last.

The shirt’s at least two sizes too big for him, and it should be ridiculous, and Steve is probably an idiot for feeling proud that Tony is wearing his shirt. But he can’t help it.

Tony shakes his head as he rolls up the cuffs. “Come on, we should probably find Darcy and the rest.”

Darcy’s in an office Steve hasn’t seen before, with a handful of people he’s also never seen before. He assumes the girls must be Jane and Natasha, because Darcy mentioned them, but there’s also a guy in a too-tight black T-shirt, a tall man with hair that should have its own L’Oreal commercial, and two men in slacks and collared shirts looking casual but relaxed. Steve takes a moment to be thankful he didn’t see any of the other actors closely enough to figure out which one of them was dressed as a dog an hour ago.

All seven of them turn accusatory stares on Tony, which Steve thinks is probably a little weird given that this is a porn studio.

Darcy says, “We’ve considered your offer, and we’ve decided to take it.” Her voice is cold, nothing like the easy chatter she shared with Steve.

Tony just waves his hand. “That offer’s off the table. Forget it. Oh, don’t look like that, I still want the building. I’ll give you a million dollars for your indie film startup and take on the mortgage if you never let this video see the light of day.”

What? Steve needs the money, and speaking of, where is Tony going to get a million dollars? Steve is pretty sure porn stars don’t make that much. “Uh, excuse me, don’t I get a say in this?”

“Shh, not right now, sugar lips,” Tony says without looking at him. “Well?”

Darcy and the others exchange glances. “Only if you get Steve to agree,” she says at length. “You do need his consent too.”

“Thank you,” Steve starts to say, but Tony turns around and Steve keeps his mouth shut.

“Hi,” Tony says, and he shakes Steve’s hand before Steve can pull away. “I’m Tony Stark, I’m a genius multibillionaire, I’m not a porn star, I was surprised you didn’t recognize me and I took horrible advantage of you. I couldn’t help myself, no jury in the world would convict me, have you seen you?”

Steve flushes. All he can think of to say is “You didn’t do anything to me I didn’t want,” which is completely true, even if Steve wasn’t clear on the circumstances.

“Exactly!” Tony says and throws a poisonous “you see?!” look over his shoulder at Darcy. “Look, if you still want to sell the video, that’s fine, it certainly won’t be the most scandalous thing ever to happen to me. Really it doesn’t even make the top five this year. But if you were just doing it to pay for your mom’s medical treatment, let me worry about that. I have more money than God, she’ll have the best care anyone can provide and more, and no one has to know what happened in that room except for us.”

God, Steve would like to take him up on that offer, but how can he? If it was just a video, that would be one thing. People would be paying for a product—a video of him. But if he makes this deal, then—what? No more video means Steve just traded sex for money, plain and simple. Steve doesn’t know if he can do that.

On the other hand, if he releases a sex video with Tony Stark, it will definitely go viral, and while it will probably make him a lot of money, there is no way his mother won’t hear about it. Steve is stuck.

Tony must sense his hesitation, because he continues, “Look, if it makes you feel any better, I decided I was going to pay for your mom’s medical treatment way before you gave it up on the couch.”

Steve flushes so hard he thinks he might be having an aneurysm. There are seven people watching and listening to this conversation. Why can’t Tony put a filter on his mouth? “Are you like this all the time?”

“No. I’m usually worse.” But then he drops the attitude and suddenly he’s the guy Steve met in the change room, easy and open. “You’re a nice guy, Steve. Wait, are you really Steve Rogers? Because I thought that was just a really clever stage name, you know, Rogers.” Steve’s flush must answer that question for him, because he just continues, “My God, you’re adorable. Anyway, not that these people aren’t all nice, because they are, but this industry will chew someone like you up and spit you out different, and I like you the way you are. Nice guys don’t usually date me. I’m hoping you’ll make an exception, but the offer to pay for your mom’s treatment is not contingent on it.”

Darcy and the other girls are actually leaning forward in anticipation at this point, and Steve reaches the end of his possible resistance. Tony is wearing his shirt. “You’re going to let me pay for dinner,” Steve says firmly. He can’t believe he’s giving in.

Tony grins, and oh wait, yes he can. “It’s a date.”