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He’s jogging on a hiking trail on a rare day the world doesn’t need saving and the scent of pine catches in his nose.  The smell always reminds him of Tony – something in that expensive aftershave.  It hits him with the thought of Tony in that hideous purple bathrobe, just stepped out of the shower.  Wet hair plastered to his forehead, droplets beading down his neck and waiting to be licked away.   He’d sit cross-legged with the robe drawn up to his thighs, covering just enough to tease.

Steve huddles over, suddenly breathing heavy and it’s nothing to do with his run.  If Tony was here to see the blush in his cheeks and the tent in his pants, he’d tease him, probably, and Steve would drag him off behind a tree and push him to his knees and teach him how to keep his dirty mouth shut.

He can’t wipe the image of Tony’s lips around his cock from his mind and he’s too hard to ignore it.  Off the path, out of sight, it’s no worse than taking a piss.  He picks a spot hidden between two trees.  He can hear leaves crunching on the trail and it makes his heart thump, thump, thump from his chest to his throat.  He rubs his cock over his pants and hisses a breath through his teeth.  If Tony was here, he’d be on his knees by now, undoing Steve’s zipper, wrapping his lips around the head of Steve’s cock.  He muffles a moan through the fingers of one hand and sticks the others beneath the waistband of his pants.  The tips of his fingers brush the tip of his dick, teasing, like he knows Tony would.  He would have some sharp quip on his tongue, or some cultural reference Steve hasn’t caught up on and he would have to remind Tony that there are better things to do with his mouth than talking.

He pops open his button and zipper and takes his dick in hand with a soft moan.  The cool wind on his flesh, the smell of Tony in the air, the rustle of leaves and murmur of distant voices.  Everything bombards his senses until he’s biting hard into his fingers to stop himself moaning louder.

His thumb circles the slit, fingers twisting around the shaft.  He’s harder than he’s ever been.  He could probably cum from this alone.  He drags a bead of pre-cum along the length with his thumb and imagines it’s Tony’s tongue.

He leans his head back against the tree and lets his whole body flow with the movement, wrist flicking fast and hard.  Bark scratching his scalp and elbows and ass, pine needles poking through his clothes and sticking in his hair.  He lets his mouth hang open and uses his free hand to massage his balls and grunts as he thrusts harder against his palm.  It’s building fast, tingles running down his spine, his balls tight, his breath shaky.

Tony would pull back now and look at him, his mouth hanging open and ready, and Steve would jack himself to finish and mark Tony’s face with his cum.  It would stick in his hair and dribble from his lips and Tony would lap at it, hungry for more.

He can’t hold back anymore.  He shivers as he cums, his whole body shaking in ecstasy as his hand pumps and his cock spasms.  Thick, long ropes that shoot over a foot, rustle the fallen leaves and paint them white as they hit the ground.  He gasps Tony’s name as he wrings the last drops of cum from his cock and they dribble down his fingers.  He takes a moment to catch his breath.  He’s always cum hard since the serum but even for him this was a ten.  He licks his fingers clean and tucks his limp cock back in his pants then brushes pine needles from his clothes and returns to the path like nothing ever happened.

--

It becomes a regular thing.  Any day he gets the chance he heads out there and thinks of Tony on his knees, sucking cock and moaning his name.  He leaves his cum on the leaves and finger marks in the bark.

It’s a sunny Sunday afternoon with his dick in his hand and Tony’s lips on his mind when the call signal goes off.  He jacks himself to a record finish and runs off to answer.

--

The mission is a success, over in hours with no injuries or casualties, so he changes back into his civvies and sits through the debrief.  He gets up to leave with everyone else, but Tony is smiling at him.  ‘A moment, Captain?’

He raises an eyebrow but waits as the others leave, until it’s only him and Tony in the conference room.  Tony steps closer, a lecherous smile playing on his lips.  ‘I know what you did this Sunday.’

Steve frowns. ‘What are you talking about?’

Tony steps into his personal space and leans in, lips hovering barely an inch from Steve’s ear.  ‘There’s cum on your pants, darling.’

He holds back the urge to step back and check.  Instead he leans in, his hips pressing against Tony’s. ‘Why are you looking at my pants, Tony?’

‘I’m only human, Steve.  They call you the peak of human perfection.  A man can’t help but be curious what that looks like.’

‘You want to see my dick?’ 

‘For scientific purposes, you understand.’

‘Yeah?  Well if it’s for science, I guess I’d better let you see.’  Tony’s fingers reach for Steve’s waistband but Steve grabs his wrists and holds them, maybe a little too tight.  ‘Outside.’  Steve growls.

‘That’s your thing, huh?’  Tony tilts his head.  ‘Never would’ve pegged you.  Well, not for an exhibitionist, at least.’

Steve sighs and hopes this isn’t a mistake.  One glace at Tony is enough to convince him it isn’t.  ‘Just follow me.’  He takes Tony to his bike and tries to ignore the roaming hands palming his dick as he drives them out to the trail.  His cock hardens, rubbing raw against fabric as they walk.

‘Got a little den of inequity out here, huh?’  Tony says.  Steve rolls his eyes but says nothing.

The sun is setting now.  He’s always done this in the day.  There are less people now, but with Tony here, it’s probably for the best.  He leads him from the path, pushes him up against his tree and kisses him.  It’s fierce and dirty, all tongues and teeth and panting and exactly like he’d always imagined.   Tony pulls back. ‘Gonna fuck me hard out here, where anyone could walk past?’

Steve shakes his head.  For all of his fantasies, now that Tony is here and in on this, he doesn’t want to touch him.  He doesn’t want Tony’s mouth or ass or cock.  ‘No.  You’re going to watch,’ he says and pulls Tony away from the tree and pushes him away.  Tony stumbles and falls back on his ass, sits in the leaves that are stained with weeks’ worth of Steve’s cum and smiles like he’s still in control.  Steve flicks his fly open and pulls his dick out.  He’s already rock hard.  He wants this to last but doubts he’ll be able to.  He pumps his cock twice and moans softly.

‘Jesus,’ Tony says.  He’s sprawled across the floor, eyes already glued to Steve’s dick.  Tony reaches for his own zipper, but Steve growls and shakes his head. 

‘Just watch.’  He wants Tony to cum in his pants, desperate and untouched and all from watching.

‘Christ.  You’re much more of a kinky bastard than I expected.’

‘Shut up.’  In his fantasies Tony was usually silent and that’s how he wants this.  Tony’s focus entirely on him and Tony’s dick twitching, swelling and cumming, only as an afterthought.  He twists his fingers round the shaft and thumbs the slit, pulls back his foreskin and runs his fingers round the head.  Tony is watching, licking his lips, a visible tent in his pants now. 

He jacks a steady pace, fingers gliding from tip to root, a steady stream of pre-cum slicking the way.  His cock twitches and his balls are tight and his eyes are locked on Tony. If his fantasies were a ten, this is a one-hundred.  He’s a hair trigger from cumming, so he slows his pace.  He won’t cum until Tony does.

‘Christ, Cap.’  Tony’s hips are rocking, his fingers twitch and clench in the dirt.  He’s going to cum soon.  There will be a wet stain in his pants that he’ll have to walk home with.

‘Come closer.’  He wants to see Tony’s face when he cums.  Follow him over the edge and spill himself over Tony’s face and hair and shirt, so he’ll walk home with both of their cum drying on him.

Tony shuffles closer, dragging dirt and leaves with him and moaning as fabric pulls taunt against his dick.  The outline of his cock is clear now, straining against the fabric and leaving a little wet patch where pre-cum soaks through.  Steve’s hips buck with Tony’s.  ‘Fuck, Steve.  You going to cum?’

‘Not before you do.’ Steve grunts.  ‘Want to watch you cum in your pants.’

Tony moans, loud and untamed and if anyone walked past now, they’d surely hear, but Steve doesn’t care.  The fingers on his free hand dig into the bark, scratching his fingertips raw.  He is right on the edge, holding back only because he needs to see this fantasy through.  ‘Fuck, Cap.  I’m going to cum.’ And Tony throws his head back, lets out deep, breathy moans half caught in his throat, and his hips buck and his fingers clench.

Steve tightens his fingers and his pace picks up.  He can see the cum stain spreading on Tony’s pants.  ‘Jesus.  Fuck.’  Tony is panting.  ‘That was really fucking good.’

Steve pulls Tony closer, fingers wrapped in the hair at the base of his neck.  He pushes Tony’s head to his cock and Tony’s tongue darts out and laps up the drops of pre-cum dribbling from the tip.  ‘You going to cum for me, Cap?’  Tony licks his lips and lets his mouth hang open, just like he did in Steve’s fantasies. 

Steve sees white. His whole body tenses as white hot pleasure ripples through from his balls to his throat.  ‘Oh fuck, Tony.’  He moans as thick strings of cum hit Tony in the face, sticking to his nose and chin and lips.  Tony’s tongue darts out to lick them up and Steve angles his dick to spray cum in his hair, painting sticky white patches that won’t come out so easily.  Down over his shoulders and across his shirt, marking Tony as his.  Then he lets Tony lean in and take his cock in his mouth and suck and lick and draw out those last ripples of ecstasy and drops of cum until he’s too sensitive to take any more.

He pushes Tony away and leans his head back against the tree, drained and panting and never before as sated as he feels now.

‘Well, Captain, that was certainly an experience.’ Tony wipes a string of cum from his nose and licks it from his fingers.  ‘Even your cum tastes like gold dust.  Maybe you’ll let me blow you next time?’

Steve pulls his pants up, straightens his shirt and thanks God, who’s probably frowning down at him, that this is more than a one-time thing.  A blowjob sounds good now, but he doesn’t know how he’ll resist the pull of a repeat performance.  Tony gets to his feet and Steve runs his hand along the crotch of Tony’s pants and feels how wet they are and smells his own cum drying on Tony’s collar.  ‘Maybe,’ he says, but he’s not making any promises.