Tony Stark is laughing and it's a perfect sound in the oval office.
“Why are you surprised? I'll always stand at your side, as a friend, as Iron Man, as your adviser and as you first lady, if you'll have me. Always been true. Didn't you know, Mr. President?”
“Don't be crass,” Steve says and sniffs.
On the tablet he's replaying the video of Tony in what he christened the Iron Patriot armor, declaring his undying loyalty to President Cap. It's over the top and camp and even Steve can see it's too much, but apparently people love it.
“Some people think you're trying to ride on a wave of my popularity.”
“Oh, darling,” Tony says with pursed lips, “I want to ride alright but not...”
“Don't be crass in the oval office,” Steve warns.
Of course, it makes Tony grin wider.
He has missed that.
That annoying, shit eating grin.
“Let's leave the oval office then?”
“Can you get us out of here?” Steve asks. “Without the whole secret service coming after us?”
“I'm Iron Man,” Tony reminds him with a shrug. “I can get you anywhere.”
* * *
“Why were you surprised?” Tony asks. “I'd swear to stand by you any day. I'll always be your man.”
“You're not standing, Tony,” Steve says and holds in a gasp when Tony slides a hand along his thigh. Tony likes to tease, likes to draw it out. Steve doesn't. He pulls him forward by the hair, brings his face right to his crotch and pushes.
“You only need to ask.”
“I'm asking,” Steve breathes and watches clever fingers undo his fly, watches tony slide his half-heard length across his lips. He holds back. Doesn't buck. Let's Tony takes his time.
His tongue is as clever as his fingers, that are now weighing his balls.
He's hard, he's panting, and he wants more.
He pushes Tony up, pushes him over the desk and makes short work of their pants.
“Say it again,” Steve says.
“I'll always be yours.”
“Again,” he says and enunciates it with a hard push.
“Always be yours.”
“Again,” he says.
It's too fast, too hot, too perfect. Tony matches his desperate rhythm perfectly.
“Wow,” Steve gasps out. “That’s—yes, that’s better. Again”
“Your, Mr. President. Always yours.”
He comes. Hot and hard and Tony pushes back a few time mewling.
The collapse on the desk and Steve crushes Tony beneath him. “Good,” Steve breathes. “Good.”
“Seems,” Tony says and at least he also sounds out of breath, “like being the first lady has advantages.”
“Iron Man,” Steve says. “By presidential degree, you're my first Iron Man.”
“Can live with that. I made a promise I intend to hold after all.”