It all began with an off-hand remark, and there shouldn’t have been any cause for it to escalate.
“Thanks, Cap. I owe you one,” Tony said, post-mission as they stood in the middle of rubble and smoking craters. Steve – Captain America – had kind of saved his ass during the battle, and as much as Tony would have preferred to forget it, they had gotten close enough that he could actually admit he had needed – and received – help.
“No problem,” Steve nodded, jaw still set, tension not quite gone from his body.
“I hate being in debt to people,” Tony mused, the comm limited to him and Cap, giving them some privacy as people began to emerge from nearby buildings and police kept directing them to a safer location. “So, if I can somehow repay you, let me know,” Tony went on. “New uniform update, polish your shield, maintenance of your bike, foot massage, sexual relief…” He laughed at the last item on the list, feeling tired enough to include it there anyway.
“Yeah?” Steve glanced at him. Beneath the cowl, it was hard to tell whether he was wryly amused or disapproving.
Tony made a shrugging motion which was an easy to miss with the Iron Man armor on. “Sure, why not. I give a mean blowjob.” It was a pity Steve couldn’t see his wink, but when he got a small chuckle in return, he knew the other man took it as a joke.
The star spangled man had come a long way since being thawed from the ice.
Two days later
It was only later on that Tony realized he may have talked himself into a corner. Not the first time it happened, certainly, but he usually had an exit in mind when it occurred.
Pitting his own exit strategy against that of his team leader – a man renowned for his strategic prowess in battle – however, was apparently more difficult than anticipated. Not that Tony had anticipated it, in the least, but still…
He was in his workshop area of the Avengers Tower, buried in suit wirings, when Steve appeared behind him. Tony was fairly certain J.A.R.V.I.S. had announced the Captain’s presence, but he hadn’t been listening, obviously, and started a little when he realized he wasn’t alone. “Hey there,” he greeted the other man cheerily. “What can I do for you?”
The music in the room dropped in volume significantly, and Tony turned back to work on the wiring while he waited for Steve to say his piece.
“I was wondering if the offer still stood,” Steve mused.
“Offer?” Tony frowned, lifting his head a bit. From the corner of his eye he could see Steve idly tracing a piece of the armor casing, as if giving himself a distraction from the topic. “I offered something?”
“We agreed you owe me,” Steve said, looking at him.
Tony turned to properly face the other man, still frowning. “I don’t… Was I drunk?”
“I sure hope not,” Steve smiled dryly.
“Okay, because I don’t recall… J.A.R.V.I.S,” he called out.
“When did we come to the conclusion that I owe Captain Rogers?”
“In the aftermath of the last battle, sir. I believe he saved your life.”
“Ah,” Tony snapped his fingers. “That does ring a bell – and no, I wasn’t drunk.” He looked at Steve properly. “So, you’ve come to collect. Do you need an adjustment to your uniform? New engine for your bike?” Tony’s mind was already gearing itself towards the things Steve might need, and the ways he could improve their quality.
“You mentioned a blow job,” Steve said, and it took Tony a few seconds to actually react to it, because that was not the request he had been waiting for. Not in the least.
“A…” Tony was embarrassingly aware of opening and closing his mouth for a few seconds. “Uh, okay,” he stated slowly, looking at Steve, trying to see if he was joking. Sometimes Steve had an amazing poker face. “Are you shitting me?” Tony asked, eyes narrowing.
Steve’s lips pursed and he let out a huff of air that may have been from disappointment or frustration. “I recall you offered it, but if it was only in jest, I get it.”
“Yeah, it… Wait,” Tony shifted towards the other man when Steve took half a step to turn around and leave. “Are you serious?” he asked.
“Don’t I look serious?” Steve shot back at him, stopping his retreat from the workshop.
“You do, and that’s…”
“Was it a joke or not?” Steve demanded.
Tony opened his mouth again, then considered it a rather… bad facial expression, considering the topic, and furiously tried to see every in and out of the current situation. “Yeah, I guess,” he finally managed. “I just never thought… Are you absolutely certain you’re not joking – or haven’t been replaced by aliens, or didn’t have your mind altered in some way?”
Steve raised a perfect, blond eyebrow at him. “You think Captain America can’t stoop as low as receiving a blow job?”
Tony reluctantly admitted there may have been a slight blush rising to his face, whereas Steve was perfectly cool and collected. “Wasn’t the first thing on my mind, honestly.”
“But you offered.”
“In a half-jest! Or a complete, total jest, I really can’t tell.”
Steve let out a small snort and began to turn away again. “Glad we sorted that out,” he said without looking at Tony.
For a second, Tony’s fingers tapped against each other in a rhythm he didn’t recognize. Steve was walking away, towards the door, just as quiet and collected as he had been earlier, but Tony couldn’t help but imagine he tasted the sourness of disappointment. “Wait,” he called out.
Steve didn’t stop – didn’t even slow down. He was nearing the door to leave, making Tony jerk into action:
“Very well, sir.”
Steve froze, the door remaining shut instead of sliding open. The blond head turned around, a few strands of hair slipping out of the carefully combed part. He didn’t purse his lips, didn’t frown, yet Tony was keenly aware that he was being judged in some way.
“Okay,” Tony breathed, because he had to either speak or fidget, and he would rather open his mouth.
Steve raised an eyebrow again, as if asking him to clarify. Of course he did.
“Opaque the walls,” Tony muttered, and J.A.R.V.I.S. darkened the invisible portions of the walls. Since Steve remained rooted to the spot even when that was done, Tony walked over to him instead, feeling an anxious twist in his stomach. Clearly the joke was on him now, but Tony refused to back down. He had offered, after all, even if it had been a joke – he was pretty sure that’s how he had meant it.
However, when presented with the prospect of actually putting those words to good use, so to speak, Tony was fairly certain he wasn’t going to turn this down. Hence the locked doors and covered windows. Captain America was asking him to suck his cock, and was Tony truly considering saying no?
He stopped in front of Steve, looking him in the eye. There was no blush, no nervous twitch, and he guessed one of them had come here prepared. Guessing he might as well, Tony moved one hand between their bodies and to Steve’s crotch. The man was half-hard at least, but not sporting a raging boner. Well, considering that Tony had sort of turned him down just a minute ago, it was only fair.
Steve’s eyes remained on his face, even as Tony’s fingers worked to undo his belt and the button of his pants. “If you don’t want to,” he finally said, “I don’t want anything to happen.”
“What’s going to happen?” Tony arched an eyebrow at him as he tugged the zipper down in one go, rather pointedly.
“Tony,” Steve went on in that long-suffering sigh that Tony knew so well.
“Relax,” Tony ordered. “You’re supposed to enjoy this.”
Steve’s hands moved forward, grasping both of Tony’s forearms tightly. “Tony, this isn’t a game. If you don’t want to –”
“I want to,” Tony reassured him just as he reassured himself. “I just never thought it would happen, honestly. But, here we are, and… Just let me blow your mind, okay?”
Steve released his arms wordlessly. He appeared calmer, more sure of himself, and Tony took a steadying breath, carefully lowering himself to kneel on the floor. This was it, and Tony realized he had felt less nervous battling supervillains, demigods and flying nukes into a portal that led to the outer edge of space.
He inhaled carefully and detected a rather familiar smell of male arousal. It was comforting and alienating at the same time, making it quite obvious what he was about to do.
A firm hand landed on his shoulder and Tony looked up, meeting Steve’s eyes. He could feel the other man’s unspoken question, the hesitation that was returning as he dragged this out, and Tony decided he had played the blushing virgin long enough. Lowering his eyes, he raised one hand, tugging down the front of Steve’s underwear, then tugged out Steve’s cock with the other. If he had been half-hard before, he was getting to full mast at top speed.
As much as they were a team, Tony hadn’t had a lot of chances to sneak looks at his naked teammates. They didn’t share showers. They rarely went around the Tower half-clothed. And he most certainly hadn’t seen Steve hard, up close, but he knew this wasn’t the time to commit it all to memory either. His fingers slid around the shaft, skin hot beneath his grip, pulsing slightly, and a little bit of wetness was gathering at the tip.
Tony had seen plenty of dicks in his life, and could tell the difference between a pretty cock and an ugly, sad cock. Steve’s was gorgeous, just like the rest of him, and Tony leaned in before he could get sentimental; it was time to see whether he could live up to his promise to blow the other man’s mind, because it been a while. Like, years. Plenty of years; after becoming the head of Stark Industries, the only people Tony had given head to had been female – and that one shemale, which had been quite a night.
His lips brushed for first contact and Tony opened them, tongue swiping in for a taste before he moved on, mindful of his teeth, aware that Steve was big enough to be a challenge if approached carelessly. His ears caught a slight hitch in Steve’s next breath and the hand still on his shoulder tightened fractionally.
Tony moved both his hands to tug the underwear and pants a little lower, further out of the way. His head bobbed easily an inch or so back and forth, in a simple rhythm, then slightly further along the length, after which he gave himself a break and backed off, proceeding to lick and suck the outside of the rigid length, testing each inch of it, finding the thicker veins before returning back to the tip.
Steve was remarkably still, standing above him, breaths not as controlled but that was the only thing that betrayed his excitement – if not taking into consideration his erection, which Tony played with a bit longer, tonguing the head, sucking at it next, then taking it further into his mouth again.
Tony decided to test his limits and adjusted his position, attempting to relax his jaw, to open his mouth further, then positioned his tongue to let himself take Steve deeper. The first brush at the back of his throat brought the annoying sensation of a strange tickle. He stayed there, breathing in carefully, teasing his throat again, willing it to get used to the feeling of the solid pressure of Steve’s cock.
Eventually he pulled back, aware of the wetness on his lips. He licked at them, and it felt like he was making it worse, so he swallowed, trying to remove the excess spit from his mouth. His eyes flew up momentarily, to check Steve’s expression, and found the blue eyes nailed on him.
“Do you want me to… do something?” Steve asked carefully.
“Nah,” Tony replied. “Just stand there. Or would you prefer to sit?” He knew he didn’t like small-talk while receiving a blow job, so he moved one hand up, to the base of the hard flesh, and went to take the tip back in his mouth before Steve could actually say whether he would prefer being seated.
Tony moved his head back and forth, methodically, every now and then going deeper, shifting his jaw, teasing his throat before backing off a little. His lips felt a bit puffy when he pulled all the way off again and he dragged the back of his free hand across them, feeling messy. Not that he usually cared, but things were getting a bit sloppy everywhere. What had he expected, though? Blow jobs were supposed to be sloppy, with dripping saliva and cum – and now he was just making himself feel worse, self-conscious, and when had that been a part of Tony Stark’s characteristics?
His hand jerked Steve’s cock, making it bob a little, and then he went back to licking the head, mouthing and sucking the sensitive flesh until he moved beneath it, then slowly down the length and back up against one side, then back down and up the other.
Steve’s breaths were picking up speed and the hand still on his shoulder twitched, then shifted to the back of Tony’s neck, fingers low enough to trace the skin beneath his shirt. Tony took that as an indication to take him in again, and this time he took the cock deep, holding himself there, trying to breathe, trying to push deeper, but Steve was a living thing and reacted to stimulus, his hips finally inching forward into the contact.
Tony backed off fast, coughing softly and feeling spit trickle down his chin. He felt like admonishing the other man, then felt Steve’s fingers wrap around his at the base of his cock, and he looked up just in time as Steve began to jerk himself off and Tony left him to it, uncurling his own hand from around him. Steve’s other hand was still at Tony’s neck and it pushed forward, just slightly, and Tony leaned in, sucking the tip of the cock into his mouth as Steve kept jerking, and then he came, with a faint groan, and Tony swallowed about half of it before the jerk of Steve’s hips made his dick slip and spray the last of his load down Tony’s cheek.
“Nice,” Tony commented after a bit, bringing up his hand to wipe off the mess, but he knew it was probably just making it worse.
Steve took a few steadying breaths, as if he had just beaten up a villain or run across the battlefield. There was a faint flush on his cheeks when Tony looked up at him – as well as a serenity of sorts.
“How was it?” Tony asked then, refusing to appear uncomfortable.
“It was good,” Steve replied. “Although I expected something… a little different,” he admitted.
Tony tried not to be insulted. Instead he shrugged, playing indifferent. “I’m a little rusty.”
“It wasn’t bad,” Steve said earnestly, sounding more like himself.
Tony huffed and got to his feet with as much dignity and balance as he could muster. His knees complained and there was still cum on his face. “Anything else?” he asked the other man. “I have work to do.”
“I’ll leave you to it,” Steve responded and J.A.R.V.I.S. unlocked the door right on cue to let him exit.
Tony was still half-convinced it hadn’t been Steve, but the slight sensation at the back of his throat informed him it hadn’t been his imagination, either. “Huh,” was the only comment he eventually came up with before he walked into the small bathroom on the other side of the workshop to clean up his face and hands – and jerk off his rock-hard cock.
A week later
Nothing had changed between him and Steve after that strange encounter in the workshop. They still talked the same, argued the same, and there was not a single hint that anything had happened. However, Tony could feel it had happened, and he knew he wasn’t the only one, which led him to believe it had been Steve, and he hadn’t been brainwashed – and if it was the latter, then he hadn’t been traumatized by it.
It was as if Tony knew some sort of secret about Steve, but it wasn’t the kind he could share with someone. He was fine with that, surprisingly, and went about his daily business – which that day included taking a Quinjet up to the Helicarrier and helping with some engine problems while Steve did whatever he always did while up there; getting his uniform refitted, training, debriefing… Tony didn’t know, nor did he care beyond the fact that they would probably return to the Tower together once Tony was done.
Tony was working beneath a piece of engine which had been raised from its usual position by hydraulic jacks. All was well and good until the light beside him flickered out, as did the lights in the room around him, the hum of air ventilation stopping as well, leaving the room in strange silence.
“Uh, guys?” Tony called out, beginning to inch out from beneath the engine – then sensed something moving and the space narrowed suddenly as the engine began to lower; the jacks were malfunctioning, probably from a power outage, although he thought they should have back-up power for that. “Shit,” Tony swore, squirming out faster, but the weight was heavier on him, the jacks folding down and then remaining still, as if suddenly deciding they were functioning again.
Tony breathed harshly, trying to move, but the engine was still pressing down on him, leaving him squeezed. “A little help here!” he called out, because there had been others in the room a while ago. Sure, he had said he had things under control and didn’t need help, but if there were power problems, surely someone would come and check on him.
A metallic whine signaled that one of the jacks was probably folding further under the pressure, and Tony felt it against his ribs. “Fuck,” he whined, in no position to push up, and even if he did, there was no way he wasn’t getting squashed like a bug.
Suddenly the engine shifted slightly upwards, and Tony didn’t question it; he wriggled out as fast as he could, breathing in the sweet air of freedom as he rolled out from beneath the machine, then looked up at a grunt of physical effort and watched as Steve let go of the engine, the mechanical mass sinking a couple inches. That was truly amazing, since the engine easily weighed a couple tons.
“Thanks,” Tony managed.
Steve looked at him and knelt on the floor beside him. “Are you hurt?” he asked.
“Nah,” Tony shook his head. “A little winded – not a lot of room to breathe under there.” He looked around. “Where is everyone?”
“There was a power fluctuation issue at a nearby generator and they cut the power to certain parts of the Helicarrier to minimize the effects,” Steve explained. “I was coming out to see how you were doing, and, well…”
Tony nodded, taking a deeper breath. “Well, that was very convenient,” he mused, looking at the jacks that still held the engine up, although barely. “Guess I owe you one, again,” he noted – then realized he had said it out loud. Their eyes met in the dim room where only emergency lights and the arc reactor provided illumination.
Steve’s expression didn’t change, far as he could see. “Is the offer still on the table, then?”
Tony swallowed. “I suppose…”
“I need you to be sure.”
“Yes,” Tony snapped, almost annoyed. “What is it with you and consent issues? I’m an adult, of sound mind and memory.”
Steve dared to chuckle and then got to his feet, offering a hand to help Tony up as well. He took it, but didn’t cling to it for longer than he had to, brushing off his clothes although they weren’t really dirty. Any dirtier than before, anyway. “Are you done for the day?” the blond asked then.
“Yeah,” Tony replied, giving the engine a slightly venomous look. His suit would do a better job at holding it up. A brilliant idea, that…
“We can’t leave until they fix the generator,” Steve went on. “They said they can handle it,” he added, just in case Tony was thinking he should go over there and help with the repairs. “We can just sit back and wait for it to be fixed.”
Tony guessed they could do that, and followed Steve out. They passed a few engineers, but none of them even asked if Tony was okay. Typical. Perhaps he should have been crushed to death, to teach them to ignore him.
Steve led them to something that looked like a rec room, which for the time being was empty. Tony considered the room to be a joke, because when did S.H.I.E.L.D. agents have time or the capability to get recreational? Tony noted a door on the far side, leading to a bathroom, and signaled towards it since he might as well empty his bladder now if there happened to occur a more life-threatening situation in the near future.
He did his business at the urinal, zipped up – then caught a glimpse from a mirror on the far wall and almost jumped out of his skin. “When the fuck did you get here?” he asked, whipping his head around to look at Steve who was casually leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.
Tony fiddled with his belt then went to wash his hands. “You didn’t have to wait, you know,” he mused, casually, seeing as there was plenty of room for more than one guy to do his business.
“I don’t need to go,” Steve noted.
“So you just like hanging out in bathrooms?” Tony asked, flashing him a grin through the mirror above the sink, then turned while drying his hands on a paper towel – and noticed, for the first time, the slight tent in Steve’s pants. “That’s kind of… nasty,” he noted. “Maybe I’ll just assume the whole business of saving me from becoming a pancake gave you a hard-on; I like that version better.”
Steve quirked an eyebrow. “Are you done?”
“Yeah,” Tony replied, frowning slightly – then watched as Steve very casually undid his pants and pulled his cock out, giving it a good, firm stroke from base to tip. Tony, truly, had nothing more to say. Yes, he recalled the fact that he kind of owed Steve, again. He hadn’t thought Steve would actually collect the favor like this, again, but hadn’t he just implied just such a thing while they were still in the engine room?
“Maybe we should consider the location,” Tony tried. Anyone could walk in here, literally. It was a bathroom, after all.
“I made sure no one would disturb us,” Steve mused, taking a step forward. Tony frowned, seeing as he couldn’t just lock the door. “Found an ‘out of order’ sign and stuck it on the outside,” Steve explained.
“You’re getting off on this way more than I originally thought,” Tony noted, but he was already buckling at the knees, and Steve kept stroking his cock, gathering wetness at the tip. It hadn’t tasted half bad.
“Guess we’re learning new things about each other every day.” Steve offered him a smile, then laid his free hand on Tony’s shoulder, not exactly pushing him down, but it was as if Tony’s body had turned to lead – at least the most important parts – and he sank down in front of the sinks, on the bathroom floor, and opened his mouth as Steve guided himself forward.
It didn’t go exactly like the first time: Steve moved, steadily, testing the resistance of Tony’s throat, holding himself there and then backing off when Tony’s throat began to constrict uncomfortably. He let Tony establish a rhythm, certainly, but when he fancied it, Steve would withdraw his cock from his mouth and just offer it to Tony so that he could suck and lick at the shaft while Steve’s fingers lazily pumped the tip.
If Tony didn’t know better, he would have assumed Steve had put some thought into this.
He also may have considered the possibility he had somehow arranged the whole thing, but he knew Steve was an opportunist, not a schemer.
Steve tapped his cock against his lips, as if to snap Tony out of it – as if he knew he was thinking of something other than sucking his cock.
Tony resisted the urge to roll his eyes and took him in, again, carefully sliding the hard length deeper and deeper, determined to break a few limits, and fuck, Steve felt so thick when Tony finally managed to open up his throat and let him in. Of course, the longer he indulged the feeling, the faster he had to back off, because he had an aversion to the sensation of suffocation.
“Fuck, Tony,” Steve murmured as Tony leaned away from his cock, spit literally everywhere as Tony struggled to breathe normally. He didn’t want to look up, but did anyway, meeting the blue eyes briefly before Steve’s hand was in his hair, urging him back onto his dick, and Tony took it in, feeling Steve push deep. He knew that if the other man wanted to, he would suffocate Tony on his cock and there wasn’t anything more that he could do but whine in protest. But Steve was still considerate, pulling back before Tony started to feel uncomfortable, giving him a chance to breathe before pushing back in.
It didn’t take as long as the first time, although seconds blurred into minutes in Tony’s head. Steve pulled back fractionally before he jerked, then shoved just the tip of his cock to his lips, shooting across his tongue, making Tony swallow reflexively.
They both panted for air this time, and Steve reached over for a paper towel to clean himself off. Tony remained on the floor until he was certain he could stand, giving himself a quick look in the mirror. Yeah, he had seen himself like this before, but not in years. There were smears of wetness on his face and throat, some darker spots on his shirt, and the goatee made it even more apparent what he had been up to. This was what Steve looked at, and it threw him a little.
Steve was zipping up his pants as Tony washed his face, then stepped out of the bathroom, giving him space to get himself sorted. Tony palmed his cock, hard, but decided against a quick jerk-off; he could do it later, if he still felt like it. He felt exposed enough, which was unusual for him.
Tony leaned on the sink, hanging his head for a moment.
Yeah, he was definitely learning lots of new things about Steve Rogers.
The coming months were a learning curve. If Tony had felt like he was being set up, he was probably right: Steve kept saving his ass, in many ways – and not only on the battlefield, because there Tony could usually return the favor sooner rather than later.
What Steve did, quite systematically as well, was save Tony from Fury’s most recent bout of anger, come up with an elaborate excuse for Pepper when Tony had blatantly forgotten something important, or just helping him out with small things.
Tony owed him – and Steve maintained a balance by allowing Tony to repay him, with his mouth on his dick.
After a while Tony saw the pattern, but he also didn’t feel like he was being used. Frankly, he didn’t attempt to avoid the other man’s help, and may have even positioned himself a few times so that Steve could, and would, assist him. Steve never commented on it if he noticed, and Tony was certain he did. He just took it in stride, bumping up his credit and then using it at an opportune moment.
Opportune moments started to appear in more places than Tony had predicted: in a hallway, Steve would push him against the wall and then down, trapping Tony between his hips and the wall, his cock down his throat in a matter of seconds; on the couch while the rest of the team was gone, he would just open his pants and make Tony lean over him, bobbing his head or sucking his balls while Steve’s own hand worked his flesh; after a mission in Tony’s armory, with Tony in the undersuit and Steve still in full costume, spit and cum mixing with the dust of the battle on Steve’s upper thighs because his stamina was fucking amazing and sometimes he just liked to get it up a few times until Tony’s jaw was sore and his lips and tongue moved on autopilot.
Steve pulling his cock out and Tony going down on him had somehow become the most natural thing between them, and as far as Tony knew, no one else had any idea of what was going on. He was happy to keep it that way; the others might not understand the ‘in debt’ concept, thinking that Steve was abusing Tony and their friendship. Tony had a feeling the favors were simply a gesture these days, a justification that they would be allowed to continue.
Tony had never needed justification before, for anything he did – least of all sex. It was all just a hum of words – and an excuse to have Steve’s cock down his throat, because that became addictive pretty quick once he got used to it and Steve learned just the right tilt of Tony’s head to get in there.
What was more amazing was the delayed gratification of it; Tony had never been one to enjoy a lack of orgasm – who enjoyed that? – but it rarely occurred to him, mid-blow job, that he was hard and he could do something about it. The exchange was all about Steve, and Tony could and would jerk off later when he was alone.
At least, that’s how it was until Steve changed the rules.
At the Tower it was another day in the life of the Avengers. Bruce was off on his own, Thor in Asgard, and Clint and Natasha were on a mission for S.H.I.E.L.D. That left Steve and Tony alone, and Tony was keenly aware that Steve had been collecting credit, so to speak, and so Tony kept expecting, whenever he saw the other man, that the pants would come off and they would play their familiar little game of stuffing Tony’s throat.
Instead, they ended up on the couch, Tony with a tablet in his lap and Steve watching some documentary J.A.R.V.I.S. had found for him. After a while Tony noted Steve’s right hand was in his lap, minutely stroking himself through the material of his pants, and Tony did something he had never done before: he asked.
“Do you want me to suck you?”
Steve glanced at him, as if realizing for the first time Tony was right there. Tony knew he had known it all along, but Steve played clueless so very well. “Maybe,” he started, then turned towards Tony a little.
Expecting things to get hotter and slicker, Tony saved his current project and put the tablet on the table, meeting Steve half-way.
“You owe me two,” Steve started.
“I do,” Tony agreed on his math. It wasn’t as if they were keeping score – or maybe they were.
“Can I kiss you?” Steve asked, out of the blue.
Tony frowned, then recovered, giving him a lopsided smile. “Yeah, but that counts as one.” He expected Steve to refuse, because who rated a kiss as high as a blow job?
Tony blinked. “Seriously? You’re not actually thinking of using one store credit for a kiss, are you?” It was half a joke, half a question.
Steve shrugged. “You set the prices, I guess. If I want to pay them, you can’t complain. Unless you’d prefer I get one on the house.”
“I don’t hand out freebies,” Tony shot back, then shut his mouth.
“One it is, then,” Steve decided and leaned forward. One of his hands came up to touch Tony’s cheek, drawing him in, and seeing as this was supposed to be a payment – a favor – Tony leaned in faster, to fit his lips against Steve’s.
They hadn’t done this before. Tony had been closer to pushing his tongue up Steve’s ass than kissing his lips, which was saying something, and he guessed he should make this special. So, he opened his mouth, brought his tongue out to play, and Steve matched him rather hungrily, inviting Tony in and sucking on his tongue, then chased it out of his mouth and followed it back to Tony’s, doing a thorough exploration of each and every quarter inch of Tony’s oral cavity.
Tony moaned, he couldn’t help it, and it just kept going on and on, lips sucking tongues and teeth dragging against lips, and he frankly had never considered whether Steve could even kiss, but it didn’t matter because they went at it, full steam ahead, and Tony’s lips were almost equally bruised from the kiss as they were from a standard blow job when they drew apart.
Steve licked his lips, swollen and red and wet, then smiled. “Worth it.”
Tony didn’t argue, simply swallowing and wondering if he could excuse himself to go jerk off in the bathroom while he could still feel the belated sensation of Steve’s tongue in his mouth. He guessed he should stick around in case Steve wanted to use his other favor, but Steve settled back down on the couch in his original position and continued to watch the documentary as if nothing had happened.
Beside him, Tony attempted to fall back to his work and knew that he would probably end up correcting a shitload of mistakes afterwards, but he didn’t want to get off the couch before the moment was truly over.
Steve didn’t abandon the blow jobs, but kisses definitely became included in their schedule. Tony may have joked that the lip-on-lip action left him feeling more ravaged than sucking his cock, but to whom was he going to tell that particular joke? J.A.R.V.I.S.’s sense of humor wouldn’t catch the inner workings of it, although Tony felt sorely tempted to try and teach the AI the concept anyway.
On the outside, nothing had changed. Tony still pissed Steve off regularly, although that led Steve to devise a new way of gaining credit: “If I don’t mention this most recent bout of childish behavior in my report or debrief, you owe me one.” It didn’t resolve all their arguments, but sometimes, when Steve got truly fed up, he would cut it off by admitting defeat in public – and collecting a favor later. Tony wasn’t certain how he felt about that, but it was almost like winning so he didn’t bother to complain.
Also, he caught Steve giving certain people – like Fury or the other Avengers – the “I’ll talk to Tony about it later, in private”-speech, which meant Steve might mention the issue, in passing, and use the rest of the time more productively by sinking his fingers in Tony’s hair as Tony tongued his cock, gathering spit before sliding his mouth over it down to the hilt.
It became a fairly well-working system, but Tony had certain expectations after kisses became involved: was Steve satisfied, or would he eventually negotiate for something else? Tony didn’t exactly plan a price chart for things he could imagine the other man asking, but it had crossed his mind. Could be amusing when Steve finally got around to it.
So, it didn’t come as a big surprise when one night, as the two of them were actually out in Malibu together after doing some Avengers press, Steve gave Tony that same look that had preceded his question about kissing. “My balance is five, right?” he asked casually.
“Gonna cash in your chips?” Tony shot back, turning towards him on the couch they were sitting on, watching TV. Nothing important was on – nothing as interesting as this, certainly.
“Hmm,” Steve hummed. “How much for a hand job?”
“You’re downgrading again,” Tony noted. “Seriously, what’s with you? Do you want a foot massage next?”
“How much?” Steve repeated, dismissing the less sexual offer.
“One,” Tony shrugged.
“So if I ask for a kiss and a hand job – at the same time?”
“Equals two,” Tony calculated, as if that would have given either of them trouble. He knew Steve wasn’t asking because he couldn’t do the math, but because he wanted to be sure. “Getting adventurous,” Tony teased next.
Steve didn’t dignify that with an answer. Instead, he pushed his hips up from the couch, sliding his pants and underwear off, then did the same with his shirt. Tony raised an eyebrow. Okay, so there had been one occasion when Steve had been naked when Tony sucked him off, but it was rare. He felt tempted to suggest it would cost more, but seeing as it had already happened once, he could hardly raise the price. His business wasn’t that kind of business.
“I want your mouth, and your hand,” Steve said simply, reaching out for him, his arm settling around Tony’s waist and pulling him over, astride his lap.
“Ask and you shall receive,” Tony smiled, settling in a good position, knees spread out firmly against the couch, leaving him room to get his hand between them and to Steve’s already hardening cock.
“Pay up,” Steve murmured before he leaned in, one hand rising to cup Tony’s head and bring it forward into a kiss.
Tony found that doing two things at once was more difficult. He wanted to maintain the kiss, but part of his attention needed to be on Steve’s cock, and eventually he slid both his hands along the hot flesh, jerking and stroking, occasionally moving down to grab his balls, pulling and rolling them in his fingers. Steve took over the kiss, perhaps out of pity or just because he wanted to. The combination sent a shiver down Tony’s spine and his fingers worked more determinedly, gathering dampness from the tip. He should have thought of using spit before engaging in kissing, because it felt like Steve wasn’t going to release his lips before he had come.
Steve’s hips jerked up a few times, his teeth closing around Tony’s tongue and tugging as he muffled a moan, and Tony could feel his balls draw up. He slid his fist up and down, stroking him, while his other hand tugged on the balls and then scratched behind them, softly, knowing how sensitive the skin was. The bigger man panted against his mouth as his hips jerked up one more time and he came, Tony’s hand angling the cock slightly to stop it from smearing his clothes.
Leaning back, Tony released his mouth and balanced in Steve’s lap, panting for air. The blond looked absolutely ravished and leaned his head back against the couch, arms spread, heavy-lidded eyes on Tony.
Without a word, Tony got to his feet and headed out to the nearest bathroom. He didn’t clean his hands before shoving the right one inside his pants, barely managing to slide down the clothing with his left before he came, a moan of satisfaction locked carefully in his throat.
Three days later
They were still in Malibu, having been asked for a visit from Captain America by the local army academy. Steve, always good-natured when it came to fresh-minded recruits, had agreed, so they were hanging out at Tony’s house. Pepper was shamelessly abusing Tony’s presence and getting some work done, which meant they weren’t locked inside the four walls all the time.
When Steve saved Tony from another round of paperwork by telling Pepper that they had some urgent ‘Avengers business’ to discuss, Tony knew he could add another credit to Steve’s balance.
“I was wondering,” Steve asked as Tony drove them back towards the house from the Stark Industries headquarters, “what’s your stand on toys?”
“Toys?” Tony frowned.
It was a good thing Tony wasn’t prone to swerving off the road, because he might have done so at that comment. Captain America, talking about sex toys. Then again, it was the same Captain America who regularly rubbed his cock against the inside of Tony’s cheek and particularly enjoyed Tony handling his balls, so it shouldn’t have shocked him that much.
Still, it did.
“Depends,” Tony replied after his brain caught up with the subject. “What kind?”
“Is this a reference to me talking too much?” Tony asked.
“No. It’s called a spider gag, I think.” And in case Tony didn’t know what it was – he had an idea, but he wasn’t one hundred percent sure – Steve dug into a messenger bag he had been toting around and pulled an innocent paper bag out of it, then revealed the item hidden inside it.
Tony considered it for about two seconds before deciding he might actually drive off the road if he kept looking, and took a turn to the right, taking them down a small, deserted road into a sheltered spot behind some rocks and bushes. There was no way the world was going to see Cap holding that thing in his lap, even when he wasn’t in his Captain America uniform. It was bad enough he was dressed in the military one, which was almost equally patriotic on him.
“Where did you get that?” Tony asked, because that really was the question that mattered most right now.
Steve shrugged. “A guy from the military school dropped me off in town, so I went shopping. I thought it looked nice.” And there it was, in his hands, still in its plastic box. Tony looked at it – and at the picture printed on the cardboard paper inside the plastic box. Yeah, it looked nice, and… Tony had experience with ball gags, which was fairly innocent, but he could see why Steve had chosen this one.
“It isn’t a critique,” Steve noted, as if suspecting Tony might be offended by the gag that was designed to keep his mouth open. “I just…”
“One,” Tony said. “One for the blow job, one for the gag.”
Tony nodded, tearing his eyes away from the gag and looking Steve in the eye – then it clicked. “Now?” he asked, because they were less than a half hour from the house, max, and he could take them there in less.
Then again, he had begun to suspect, a long time ago – around the time they did it in the S.H.I.E.L.D. bathroom – that Steve had an exhibitionistic streak.
“Yes,” Steve told him, and his fingers dealt with the packaging around the gag remarkably fast. Tony usually felt like blasting the damn things with his repulsors, but let it be said that no shrink wrapping or plastic encasing was going to keep Steve from what he wanted.
The round ring was metal, connected at opposite sides to a leather strap. Two sets of ‘legs’ left the ring on both sides of the straps, as if someone had cut off the four remaining legs of the spider. It looked intimidating, in a way, even when Tony took off his sunglasses and looked at it in its true colors.
Steve snapped open his seatbelt and shifted a little, turning towards Tony, the gag in his hands. Tony gave him a look, gaze still darting to the gag as if it were going to bite him. “In the car?”
“Yes,” Steve said again. He sure wasn’t in a chatty mood today – or maybe it had to do with the rather impressive erection he had to be sporting to tent his pants like that.
Tony sighed. He had fooled around in various different vehicles before, make no mistake, but this was… He wasn’t even going to begin explaining to Steve the monetary value of this car specifically – not when Steve leaned forward and Tony had to open his mouth pretty wide to accommodate the ring, which fit snugly behind his teeth, especially after the strap was fastened and there was no way it was coming off without being released.
Belatedly, he considered he maybe should have taken off his shirt, to keep the unavoidable mess to a minimum, but Steve was already taking hold of his chin, lifting his head up as if in inspection, and Tony raised one hand, a bit awkwardly, as if his mouth being imprisoned impaired the rest of his body from moving properly.
Steve gave him a smile, so soft, so sexy – not at all betraying the mind that worked behind those innocent looks. Tony knew better by now, but today was definitely a new lesson in what exactly Steve was capable of conjuring. One of the blond’s hands moved down, opening his trousers and shoving them down, along with his underwear. Every movement was efficient although the curve of his hard cock slowed him down a bit.
“Lean over,” Steve said finally, one hand holding his cock up while the other reached out and dragged Tony forward, over the console until his mouth was oh-so-conveniently above the hard dick and the slide in had never been so easy.
Tony’s hands squeezed the edge of his seat, trying to learn exactly how this worked. His lips were pretty useless, his tongue struggling to find its usual position with the ring holding his jaw open, and Steve was pushing so fucking deep it almost made his head spin.
Steve moved carefully, though, dragging Tony’s head back up and allowing him to breathe. Tony blinked, shifted slightly, and noted there was saliva everywhere, because he couldn’t swallow normally and nothing functioned as it should – nothing but Steve’s cock as his head was urged down again, and Tony hummed, more out of necessity to prove to himself he could to still make noise, rather than actual need.
In that awkward position, his arms grew tired fast, so Steve urged him to lie lower and bobbed his head up and down at his own pleasure, fingers firm in Tony’s hair. A few times he pushed in deep, as deep as he could go before it became physically impossible, and Tony coughed and drooled on his cock, trying to breathe, to swallow, to work his tongue against the shaft.
“Up,” Steve ordered after a bit, and Tony moved with difficulty, trying to angle his head because there was already going to be a mess to clean up. Steve moved along with him, propping his left knee on his seat as his right moved to Tony’s side of the floor. His hips were right there, elevated, cock almost dripping, and then the hands were back on Tony’s head, guiding him in, and it was almost easier to take Steve this way, to feel the easy shoves of his hips, the restless tug of his fingers until he finally rubbed the head along Tony’s lower lip, coming with sharp intensity.
Frankly, Tony could barely feel the cum, but he certainly felt it when Steve leaned forward, his tongue dragging across his chin, probably catching some of it on his tongue. Tony closed his eyes and groaned, remaining like that until Steve reached back and undid the gag, carefully tugging it off him.
Tony tested his jaw and tried to clean the mess with his sleeve, leaning his right side and shoulder heavily against the seat. Steve procured paper towels from somewhere and helped him, after which he took care of some of the wet stains on the seats. If Tony hadn’t felt so utterly fucked, without any actual fucking having been involved, he might have complained. “I should charge you for that,” he murmured, voice a bit hoarse. He meant Steve licking his face, of course, not the mess in the car.
“Will you?” Steve asked.
Tony raised the forefinger of his left hand between them. “One freebie. That was it.”
“It wasn’t a kiss,” Steve defended himself. “What do you define it as? It can hardly cost one.”
“Working on it,” Tony groused and turned to sit properly in his seat, catching his breath. He would tell Steve when he figured it out, and maybe then they could do it again.
Blow jobs with or without a gag, hand jobs, kisses… There was something to choose from now, but Tony should have known it wouldn’t be enough. ‘Enough’ as in, ‘we need more options’, and not ‘I’m through with you, you’re boring’.
They were back in New York, and somehow had the Tower all to themselves again – which led Tony to anticipate certain things. Not that the presence of another Avenger stopped Steve from cashing in his credits, but it always added a restraining element if they had to avoid the others; exhibitionist or not, Steve hadn’t yet proclaimed he wanted to tell the others of their arrangement – probably because he knew it would raise questions.
Tony was annoyed by that thought, because just as he had pointed out to Steve in the beginning, he was a fully consenting adult and he could re-negotiate their arrangement at any time. He just chose not to.
So, there they were on the couch again, Tony working, Steve channel surfing for something to watch, when suddenly Steve’s hand slid down, front and center, pushing down the drawstring pants and palming his flaccid cock. Tony’s eyes were drawn to the motion like a moth to the flame and he put away the tablet. He waited, though, because Steve was yet to tell him what he wanted.
“I have four, right?” Steve asked. He had really been saving them up for the last few weeks, but it helped that there had been some avenging business and Tony’d had his ass handed to him by an evil robot that may or may not have come from the future. S.H.I.E.L.D. was still working on that.
“Yup,” Tony replied easily.
Steve nodded, slowly, as if considering his options. He was stroking slowly, lazily, and Tony felt tempted to assist, even while he was thinking. He didn’t. It would break the rules, the status quo, and he didn’t want that. “How much for watching you jerk yourself off?”
Tony blinked at that. It was the first time Steve had directly addressed Tony’s needs. Not that Tony suspected the man thought they didn’t exist, or that Tony wasn’t getting off on pleasuring Steve, because his own hard-ons were pretty hard to miss, especially when there was kissing involved and his body was very close to the super soldier’s. It just hadn’t been part of this thing, and Tony wasn’t certain if he should draw a line or press his advantage.
“Two,” he finally said. After all, it felt like the price should go a bit higher.
“Deal,” Steve said. So this was really happening. For a moment Tony had thought it might not – and not because of the price – but Steve clearly had his mind set. “Sit in the arm chair,” Steve instructed, and Tony got off the couch, walking over to the chair opposite Steve and settled down.
It felt weird, to be running the show like this, with Steve watching attentively, stroking his cock. So, this was like a circle jerk then, no big deal. Tony had participated in a few when he was still in school, although the other boys were usually older, which singled him out. Tony had never let it get him down, and he wouldn’t start now.
He slid his hands down, undid his jeans and dragged out his cock, which was already stirring at the prospect of release. Steve was watching, his own hand on autopilot, eyes trained on Tony.
Guessing he should get to work, Tony began stroking himself in a familiar rhythm. He might have felt a little self-conscious, doing this in front of another man, but considering all the things they had been doing, this should be a piece of cake.
It was, and it wasn’t; Tony felt exposed, and he guessed that was a good enough reason for a higher price. The mild discomfort didn’t stop him from stroking himself, or enjoying it, and the fact that Steve, too, was doing the same eased the tension. Minutes trickled by. The TV had been switched off, leaving only their breaths to break the silence. Tony picked up the pace a bit, his release inching closer, and he knew from Steve’s rhythm that he was getting there as well.
His eyes trailed the movements of the other man’s hand, his flushed skin, cock darker than the rest of him, a sheen of slick on the surface to provide an easy glide… Tony jerked slightly and closed his eyes, groaning as it finally hit him and he came, a familiar warmth in his gut before it faded and he blinked his eyes open – only to see Steve staring at his face, instead of his cock, which Tony was still stroking slowly, his cum making the movements slicker and easier, a few drops dripping down his knuckles.
Steve’s eyes faltered for a moment, looking down, as if he’d been caught looking away from the show, and then he twisted his hand, just like that, and triggered his own orgasm, coming with that faint sound that probably had to do with war and living in close quarters.
They sat there, in silence, then eventually got up, almost at the same time, and headed out to get cleaned up. Tony returned a while later, to fetch his tablet, and found Steve on the couch once more, in his earlier spot, watching some animal program. Tony decided to slide down to the couch as well, reaching out for the tablet as he settled down beside Steve to resume his work.
Every now and then, if one of them moved in a certain way, their shoulders and upper arms would brush against one another, and it was totally okay.
It hadn’t been a fluke, or Steve testing the waters; it seemed Steve liked watching Tony work his cock, and sometimes, when his balance was high, Steve would make Tony do that and then suck him off – or the other way around. In his head Tony still refused to call it sex, regardless of the mutual benefits. It was more like sexual interaction, or activities, but not actual sex.
Not even when Steve decided he wanted a kiss while Tony jerked himself off, and that was certainly one of the most amazing moments of Tony’s life, with Steve stealing his breath and his own hand working to bring himself off at the same time. Steve’s hands had steadied him, squeezing but not moving, and it had been perfect on so many levels that Tony was forced to re-evaluate certain things in the aftermath.
The rules hadn’t changed, though. If Steve was out of credits, nothing happened. However, the good Captain usually made sure he had at least one in reserve, and he would hold onto it until he gained another. Tony didn’t purposefully ensure he got that second credit just because he may have missed their little bit of interaction, but in their lives it was easy for Steve to find ways to have Tony in his debt.
However, Tony began to suspect something was off when by his count, Steve was reaching past ten unclaimed favors and there had only been a single blow job in the last week. The other man had hoarded a small amount of credit in the past, but not this much. Tony wanted to bring it up, to ask about it, but considered it ‘bad for business’ if he began to pry into Steve’s reasons.
It made him a little concerned that Steve was growing weary of the game. Perhaps there was someone else. Maybe he was unhappy with the rates and Tony needed to make some adjustments. The idea of a sale almost made him laugh – and then recognize how dependant on this thing between them he had become.
If Steve saw the anxious looks Tony gave him, he didn’t comment. He even allowed Fury to lecture him on reckless behavior and didn’t step in to cut off the Director.
Tony’s chest tightened at the loss and he tuned out Fury completely – which the Director noticed, of course, and tore into him twice as hard until he finally ran out of steam and ordered Tony to get out of his sight.
The Avengers returned to the Tower, Clint making jokes about Fury’s remarks regarding Tony’s person and Bruce saying that Tony could avoid all this by simply thinking ahead. He should’ve known by now that Tony always thought ahead – so many steps ahead he sometimes lost the moment he was in – but he didn’t bother saying anything. He just sat there in the Quinjet, turning the helmet of his most recently destroyed armor over and over in his hands and tried not to look at Steve who stood by the cockpit, looking outside as they closed in on the Tower. His posture was rigid, and it would remain that way until he took off his uniform. Those were the clothes that made a man…
“Take-out?” Clint suggested as people began filing out of the Quinjet.
“Certainly, I have an appetite,” Thor agreed.
“A word,” Steve said quietly, touching Tony’s upper arm, not really looking at him as if that wasn’t necessary.
Tony followed him out of the aircraft and down to Steve’s changing room; they all needed some privacy in the aftermath of a mission so they all had their own places to keep their gear and to put themselves together before joining the others.
Once they were inside, Steve shut the door and locked it – as if anyone would try to get in – and looked at Tony. The brunette expected some kind of tirade to be on the way, perhaps a continuation to what Fury had started, and he crossed his arms over his chest, defensively, deciding he might as well argue since nothing else was happening.
“I’m at fourteen,” Steve mused.
Tony’s posture faltered, he could admit that.
Steve’s stance didn’t change, nor did his facial expression, but Tony had heard him and yes, he was at fourteen. Tony really should make it harder for him to hoard such a high number of credits.
Not explaining the reason for the count, or if he was going to use some of it now, Steve stepped over to one of the lockers and opened the door, reaching inside. He held something in his hand, but it was small enough to be concealed from Tony’s gaze. “Is one still your price for toys?”
Tony made a quick calculation of options in his head. “One for the types that don’t include machinery; two for anything battery or electricity-operated.” He might have to narrow that down a bit, but as long as he didn’t know the specifics, that was good enough. “What do you have in mind?”
“Just checking,” Steve mused, then turned away from the locker and set the item in his hand on a bench that sat against the opposite wall. It was a small bottle of lubricant, which wasn’t what Tony had expected.
“I don’t charge for that,” he noted.
Steve offered him a shadow of a smile. “Good to know.”
“So, we’re still… doing this?” Tony asked – and felt like kicking himself afterwards.
Steve frowned. “I wasn’t under the impression either of us wanted to stop.”
“Well, no,” Tony admitted, shifting, his hands restless. “It’s just, it’s been a while, and you’ve been kind of… hoarding.”
“There’s no limit, is there?” Steve asked, as if there were rules about that.
“No,” Tony replied, then wondered if he should set a limit at five or something. “Well, there… could be.”
“Let me know, if you decide; wouldn’t want my credits being bitten by inflation,” Steve joked dryly and tugged his right-hand glove off. “How much for fingers?”
Tony, try as he might, couldn’t decode that. “Fingers doing what?” he frowned. “I’m pretty sure I’ve been using them on you already,” he added with a wolfish grin, then dropped it at Steve’s rather serious look.
“Fingering,” Steve clarified, and Tony wasn’t sure he wanted to know where the other man had managed to pick up his vocabulary. Steve most definitely shouldn’t be using it while still dressed up as Captain America. Well, save for the one glove that had already come off. And the pushed-back cowl.
“Three,” Tony decided. “And if you suddenly decide you don’t like it, in the middle of things, there’s no refund for the first time. Prostate massages are amazing, though, so –”
“My fingers inside you,” Steve cut in and Tony’s jaw hung for a long second before snapping back in place.
“Five,” he said once he recovered.
Steve frowned. “Isn’t that a bit high? You would finger me for three.”
Tony shrugged, although yeah, it was a bit high, but he couldn’t back-pedal without losing some of his credibility. “Take it or leave it.”
“I’ll take it,” Steve decided.
Again, it wasn’t what Tony had expected, but he should have learned his lesson from the first few times. “Do I get to come?” Tony asked.
A sharp smile twisted Steve’s lips. “No.”
Tony realized that maybe he shouldn’t have brought it up, but this was also a reasonable way to lower the price he had set perhaps a bit too high. “Four if I get to come.”
“Acceptable,” Steve nodded. “How much for my mouth on your ass?”
Tony didn’t even ask about whether he was allowed to come or not; his brain played those words in a loop, over and over again, imagining, wondering… Was this why Steve had been collecting so many favors? Had he anticipated Tony would put a higher price tag on these kinds of activities? And more importantly, how long had he been considering sticking his tongue up Tony’s ass?!
“Tony?” Steve asked, taking a step closer.
“Thinking,” Tony said, raising one hand to his mouth, chewing on his thumb thoughtfully as he paced slightly, trying to figure it out. He needed a number, a good number… The perfect number. “Three,” he finally blurted out.
Steve raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. “So that makes seven, then,” he counted, and Tony wasn’t sure what he was putting together. “Take your pants off,” the blond said next – not an order, but… directions.
In their post-battle sweat and grime, Tony wasn’t certain if either of them wanted to do it now, but if Steve was willing to pay his price, who was he to say no? His cock, having perked up at the first prospect of Steve’s strong fingers inside him, certainly wasn’t complaining.
Tony moved to strip the pants he had thrown on after getting out of the remnants of his armor. He was wearing nothing underneath, which left him strangely exposed when he tugged off his shoes and pants entirely. Steve was watching, slowly tugging off the remaining glove, setting it down as well. The lube sat beside the gloves, and Tony was pretty sure Steve hadn’t just come up with his questions in the moment – especially when he walked to another locker, opened it and pulled out what looked like a yoga mat, unfolding it and placing it on the bench.
“Hands and knees on top of that; it will hurt your knees less.”
Tony looked at the mat and the bench, chest heaving just a little with anxiety that wasn’t the bad kind, then moved over, placing his knees on the mat, then his forearms, feeling exposed. Steve stepped behind him, one hand sliding up. His fingers caressed Tony’s flank briefly before moving up, to the small of his back, moving his shirt slightly higher. Tony’s cock hung heavy between his legs, filling up nicely as he waited for what Steve was going to do with the seven credits he had announced he would be using.
From the corner of his eye he saw Steve moving down behind him, into a crouch, still in full uniform save for the gloves. Tony would have loved to suck him off like that, like so many times before – one time even while he was still in the armor, the metal encasing his neck restricting the movements even with the helmet off…
Steve’s exhale on his ass made him rear his head up, although there was nothing for him to see other than the simple wall of the locker room. Steve’s fingers, strong enough to break bones, gripped his ass cheeks, pulling them apart, leaving his hole exposed and slightly stretched. Tony lowered his head, closing his eyes, fingers curling into fists.
The first swipe of Steve’s tongue was broad and bold, from his balls to his tailbone. Tony could envision the taste of musk and sweat, of dirt and smoke that seemed to cling to him even while in the armor. Steve didn’t stop to savor or calculate the situation: his tongue came back, this time directly over the hole instead of just passing by, and Tony couldn’t hold back a helpless moan as Steve did it again and again, the strong, slick muscle pleasuring his asshole and finally slipping in, just a little, as the muscles quivered and embraced the assault.
Steve’s breaths were hot and it felt like he didn’t even stop to inhale before he pressed his advantage, as if this were an attack, his tongue inside and not retreating until it absolutely had to, lips sucking when he backed off, his fingers adjusting the grip to draw Tony’s skin tighter, to expose him further, and there was no hiding the noises that came with each of Tony’s exhales.
“Fucking Christ, Steve!” Tony felt like banging his head against the bench when Steve went at it again, tongue swiping back and forth across his hole but with enough pressure that it wasn’t a caress as much as it was a coaxing for Tony’s body to open up and swallow him whole.
Abandoning his position, Tony moved his left hand between his legs, trusting his right arm to keep him up. His cock was hard, so ready for this, and as Steve pressed his tongue in once more, as deep as it would go, totally unabashed, Tony bit into his arm to keep from yelling out in absolute bliss. An edge of teeth caressed the rim, followed by fierce suction, and Tony hoped Steve would leave a fucking hickey on his ass for him to admire later on.
Tony was somewhat aware of his hips’ weak attempts to rock towards the source of pleasure, to try and get Steve’s tongue deeper. The fingers holding him open were strong, as were the arms, and they didn’t yield, didn’t let go, and there were definitely going to be bruises afterwards and Tony didn’t fucking care.
“Suck, please, just…” he panted and moaned and Steve did, like he was born to do just this, and Tony didn’t have time to brace himself before he came, hard, as if he had never come before. His legs trembled with the force of it and Steve eased up, his tongue still working, caressing, small licks painting the twitching muscles of Tony’s asshole as the fingers eased their tight grip.
“Can you stay like that?” Steve enquired after a bit.
“Huh?” Tony managed to ask, upper body low against the bench, making it hard to breathe as the arc reactor pressed against his lungs, but as long as he was riding those post-orgasmic endorphins, that was a secondary sensation.
“Can you stay like that, or do you need to lie down?” Steve asked again.
“I… Maybe I should lie down,” Tony admitted, and he began to roll over. Steve grabbed his hip and one thigh, guiding him so that he still lay on top of the mat, a wet spot from his cum at the small of his back but that didn’t matter.
There were so many things Tony could have said, in a normal world, to Steve. He might have even kissed his mouth regardless of what he had just done, but instead Tony just lay there, wondering if he could reduce the price of a rim job to one, or maybe half. “Fuck,” he finally mused, voice ragged even in his own ears. He closed his eyes, just enjoying the moment.
Steve straightened up, Tony could hear that, and moved a small distance before coming back. Something was placed on the bench beside Tony’s right foot, almost soundlessly, and Tony finally opened his eyes to see what it was. The lube. He frowned at it, but whatever Steve planned on doing with it, he didn’t care. He should, but he didn’t.
“Spread your legs,” Steve urged, and Tony did, not even thinking about it. He almost knocked the lube over and to the floor but Steve caught it quickly and removed it from within Tony’s field of vision. That was when Tony noticed for the first time that Steve was kneeling on the floor, between his now spread legs, still in uniform and hair out of place, yet he didn’t look as flushed as a normal person would have been. Super-soldier stamina and all.
Tony regarded him lazily, so ready to just crawl up to his bed and sleep – then felt more than saw Steve’s hands move to his knees and spread them even further apart. Tony groaned at the almost delicious stretch and tried to remain in position. He heard a cap being opened, the sound of a slick substance being squeezed out, and he thought it should probably mean something to him, but –
He almost kicked Steve right in the face when two fingers slid across his relaxed hole then pushed to slide inside. “Fuck,” Tony hissed – not at the burn, because there was no burn, but the change in sensation and the cooler-than-his-insides lube coating those fingers.
“Okay?” Steve asked – at least Tony thought he was asking.
“I don’t think I can… Some of us aren’t serum-enhanced,” Tony managed.
“You can, and you will,” Steve said reassuringly, his fingers moving already, relentless and seeking, searching his inner walls, and Tony still felt sensitive from earlier. It did nothing to quell the spark of pleasure when his prostate was finally found and firmly rubbed against.
“Fuck,” Tony ground out, hands stretching out, grabbing the bench near his head. His cock wasn’t on board yet, lying limp against his stomach, but Steve didn’t seem to care: he had this intense look of focus on his face as his fingers continued inside Tony’s ass, scissoring and then pressing together again, only to slide out and spread more lube at his entrance before shoving in with unnatural strength. It was almost as good as being fucked – certainly better than what most dicks Tony had let into his ass had felt like.
He was about to ask for more when Steve shifted his hand and gave it to him; three fingers inside him, moving with less effort than was fair, and Tony’s cock was finally perking up, just a little. Tony released one hand from its death-grip around the edge of the bench and slid it down his chest and stomach, palming his cock, jerking on it, guessing he had to do it himself because Steve had made no move towards it.
Perhaps Tony needed to take a look at those rules…
Steve was finger-fucking him in every sense of the word, giving a bad name to most of the lousy attempts Tony had partaken in or witnessed throughout his life. If he wasn’t completely spent, he would have come already, but Steve was tenacious and Tony had a feeling this wouldn’t end until he had come again.
He definitely needed to fit some kind of clause in there somewhere, about the rule to let him come.
Steve paused again, drawing his fingers out until only the tips remained, doing something, and then Tony felt like he was being stretched all over again. He was pretty sure that even in his relaxed state, he wouldn’t be able to take Steve’s fist, but four fingers felt amazing, sending him over some edge that had nothing to do with an orgasm but was pretty fucking good either way. Tony tried shifting his hips, to do something to intensify it. Steve’s hand kept moving, and Tony lifted his head long enough to see a flush on the blond’s cheeks, and then realized Steve must have managed to free his own cock at some point and was desperately beating off while trying to stuff Tony like a Thanksgiving turkey.
“Press it,” Tony ground out, closing his eyes, hand moving over his cock, the other squeezing the bench.
At the next withdrawal of his hand, Steve left two of his fingers outside again, the other two resuming their pace, gaining better maneuverability. The fingers pressed hard against his prostate, rubbing in circles, and Tony was certain for a moment that his brain was going to explode from the overload of sensation. That was about two seconds before Steve moved his thumb against his perineum, pressing at the gland from the outside as well as in, and Tony came so hard he had no way of knowing how long it was before he blacked out, his mind a blank slate.
Steve was seated beside him on a bench, looking down at him, a soothing hand making its way up and down Tony’s stomach. “Good?” he asked.
Tony just sort of croaked something because the language part of his brain was still catching up.
Steve smiled, then leaned forward and kissed Tony softly on the lips, lingering for about four seconds before sitting up again.
“That,” Tony started.
“Cost me one. I know. Worth it,” Steve mused.
That wasn’t what Tony had been about to say, but he didn’t have the heart to correct the man. After all, he still had plenty of credit in store, and clearly he was intent on using every bit of it…