Steve looked around, his eyes narrowing as he took in the bizarre environment. He fought back a wave of alarm that rippled through him and focused on the observable facts: The ground beneath him was firm but spongy, the earth springing up to meet his steps with a light bounce. The light here refracted strangely; jeweled tones danced at the corner of his vision every time he turned his head.
He took a breath and reminded himself that he was safe and in control, at least for now. What he needed was information.
He noticed that the vegetation was strange here too. The layer of thick mulch underfoot with bushes and grasses above was familiar, as were the trees whose branches knitted together in complex waves into a canopy above him. But the between the dark brown earth and the delicate mint green of the leaves above, the vines were lurid shades of violet and purple, colors so bright that they seemed to shimmer and gleam in the half light.
This was not, Steve was beginning to realize, your average forest.
He had been holding out hope that the incident had teleported him just a few miles from his original location. He had been fighting off his rivals from the Avengers, and they had cornered him in a lab of some kind. And then their leader - that irritating, shiny fop who called himself ‘Iron Man’ - had stepped close and had brought up his palm to fire his repulsors.
Steve had been on the receiving end of those repulsors enough times to know that they hurt. Even for an enhanced human like him, the concussive power generated by Iron Man’s repulsor blasts was a force to be reckoned with. But what that hapless hero should have known was that Steve had fought him before, and that he had watched, and he had learned.
When Steve had seen Iron Man raise his hand, he’d grabbed up a nearby tray to use as a shield and deflected the beam away from his body. He’d just had time to hear the satisfying thud of Iron Man taking a hit of his own repulsors before he’d realized that something was wrong.
The console that Steve had ducked behind was thrumming and whining, and the matching console on the other side of the room was doing the same. When Steve had deflected the repulsor attack, he’d aimed the force right back at not only Iron Man but also the console behind him.
“Give up now!” Steve had called, trying to hide his uncertainty beneath forceful orders. “You Avengers don’t stand a chance against the mighty Captain Hydra!”
He heard what could have been a scoff from the other side of the room. “You goddamn idiot!” The raspy, metallic voice of Iron Man carried over the sound of whirring electronics. “You’ve overloaded the spatio-temporal displacement servers, and now they’re going to blow up on us both!”
The whining sound from the console was indeed growing in volume and increasing in pitch. Steve tried to puzzle out what the effects of blowing a spatio-temporal displacement server would be as the sound approached the high pitched whine of a mosquito. His eidetic memory was only as useful as his ability to identify relevant data, but he was sure that the results would be nothing good.
“You’re the fool!” he’d yelled back across the room, hoping his anger would keep his enemy at bay. “Why would you stand in front of a console if you didn’t want-”
He hadn’t had the chance to finish his sentence before there was a blinding flash of light, an ear-splitting whining sound, and then a distinct pop in the air around him.
The console he’d been sheltering behind was gone. The lab where they had been fighting was gone. Steve had spun around, trying to identify targets or threats, but with no success. There was no sign of his previous surroundings. Instead, he had found himself in this humid, sticky forest full of disturbingly colored plants, and the only shape he had recognized was the figure of Iron Man, swaying slightly a few feet away.
Steve’s first instinct was to punch Iron Man first and deal with the question of their location later. But as he took a step forward, it occurred to him that something was very wrong. Distracted, he took an experimental step and felt his foot connect to the ground with an unusually heavy thud. His limbs felt heavy and dense. There was something odd about this place... something wrong about the gravity...
Steve paused, swallowed, considered. Forced himself to stay calm and asses his situation. He realized it was increasingly unlikely that they had been teleported to a nearby location. Judging by the unusual vegetation and what felt like a slightly higher level of gravity, it could only be-
A bird cawed and whipped out of the canopy above Steve, its fluorescent violet tail feathers illuminating the forest in a burst of glittering purple light. It rolled and zipped around the trees in a movement that was unlike any bird he’d ever seen before.
So, Steve thought, that decided it. They were definitely on another planet.
The cause of Steve’s current predicament was standing a few feet away, red and gold armor shimmering in the strange light. Iron Man, that thorn in Steve’s side for far too long.
Since the beginning of his career in villainy, Steve had been foiled at every turn by those damn Avengers. The sanctimonious heroes who wouldn’t shut up about loyalty and decency and caring for small children even as they thwarted Hydra’s plans.
And their leader, Iron Man, was the worst of the lot. He was currently standing with one hip cocked, a hand spread expressively, seeming bizarrely nonchalant given their current situation.
“Huh. Look like we’re not in Kansas anymore,” Iron Man said, glancing around curiously, reaching out to touch an outstretched leaf. “Alien planet, you reckon? I told you to watch out for those spatio-temporal displacement servers.”
Steve braced himself for the fight to resume, but Iron Man apparently had other things on his mind. He knelt to inspect an unusual plant that glowed an eerie blue color, apparently absorbed by it. “Yeah, this isn’t Earth flora.” He looked around him and up into the air. “And there’s no sign of a rift or a portal that we could travel back through.”
Steve grunted noncommitally. That, at least, was true. There was no obvious sign of how they could return to where they had been. They were just… here.
“Well, Captain, looks like we’re stranded. So I guess we’ll have to work together if we want to get back home.”
Steve raised an eyebrow at that. Really? All it took was a bit of getting lost in space and the hero already wanted to team up with him? “And what skills do you imagine you have that would be of use to me?” His lip curled disdainfully.
“I’ve got a navigation system and a long range communicator in here, for starters.” He rapped on the side of his helmet. “This place is amazing, but I don’t plan to be a permanent guest.” It sounded as if he was smiling. Christ, he was actually enjoying this.
Steve’s fingers itched for his shield, wanting nothing more than to take Iron Man down once and for all. But he had to admit that he did have a point - if he wanted to get home, he was going to need that communication system.
“Fine,” he snapped. “But don’t think this makes us allies.”
Iron Man held up his hands placatingly. “Wouldn’t dream of it, big guy.”
Steve narrowed his eyes and observed closely as Iron Man pottered around waving one arm in the air and turning his head this way and that like he was trying to tune a television antenna.
“Darn it. I’m going to have to take off this helmet to get location readings. There’s some kind of interference from the blast. Try not to throw anything heavy at my face, okay?”
Steve smirked, ready to fire back a cutting remark. But he stopped short when Iron Man released the catches on his helmet and pulled it off his head.
He was- He was, dear God, he was handsome. Striking blue eyes, high cheekbones, perfectly styled goatee. The picture of prim, proper, uptight citizenry. He looked like a movie star, like a face you had admired a hundred times before- he looked like-
“You’re-” Steve spluttered, “you’re Tony Stark!”
Tony Stark, renowned weapons manufacturer, supplier of half the radical groups in the country at one point, the greatest mind in armaments for years. The same man who had gone soft in his old age and given up the arms trade to turn to desperate acts of sad repentance, allying himself with those pathetic Avengers. Of course. Who else would be foolish enough to play at being Iron Man?
“So you’ve heard of me?” Iron Man asked, a smile playing at the corner of his lips.
Steve huffed dismissively. “The annihilator bomb you created back in the day was a work of art. It’s such a pity you haven’t made anything that worthwhile in years.”
Just for a moment, an expression of pain and sadness flickered across his handsome features. But in an instant it was gone, and the sharp smile returned.
“Just so you know," he said, leaning onto the balls of his feet in the heavy suit and poking Steve in the chest with a metal finger, "If we make it out of this and you tell anyone about who I am, you'll regret it."
Steve sneered. As if threats meant anything to him.
Iron Man deflated somewhat. "Look, just do me a favor and don’t tell anyone about my identity, okay?”
“Why would I possibly do you a favor?”
“Villain’s honor?” he suggested with a shrug. “We’ve fought plenty of times, but I’ve seen you aiding the wounded and making efforts to minimize casualties. I’m sure that you have some kind of moral conscience hidden under all that Hydra nonsense that you spout.”
Steve stiffened, embarrassed that his enemy had seen his compassion and marked it as a weakness. Still, let Iron Man - or rather, let Tony, the admirable hero, think that he would keep his secret. It would build the trust between them, get Tony to lower his defenses. And when the right moment arrived, Steve could make his move to get off this damn planet and leave his adversary behind. Let’s see how the Avengers fare without their beloved leader, he thought with sharp satisfaction.
“I’m Steve Rogers,” he offered as an olive branch. His identity was no great secret as there were no records of his civilian life on file, but Tony didn’t know that. Let him think that they were in this together. “Now you know my secret too.”
Tony contemplated him for a moment before giving a firm nod. Apparently that was all it took to win the trust of one of these naive heroes.
“We need to get the lay of the land," Tony decided. "I might be able to hack together a communication beacon if we get to high enough ground.”
Steve acquiesced, content for now to let Tony take the lead.
Whatever Steve’s feelings about Iron Man, it was undeniably true that they were better off together than apart in this strange place. He followed Tony willingly, already planning how he could ditch him once he had arranged for a pickup from Earth.
As they walked, Steve took in the gloomy atmosphere of the muggy forest, full of unfamiliar bird calls and the alien scents of otherworldly flowers. There were rustling sounds in the distance that could have been caused by larger animals, but there was no visible sign of anything bigger than a pigeon.
As strange as this place was, they didn’t appear to be in any immediate danger. It was kind of beautiful, actually, albeit in an unsettling way. But the air was thick and humid, and Steve felt beads of sweat forming on his neck and rolling down the back of his black Hydra issued shirt. He was unwilling to show any weakness in front of his enemy, so he strode behind him with a firm confidence in his step that he didn’t fully feel.
Steve was contemplating whether he should use this opportunity to press Tony for information about the Avengers, and how best to broach the subject. But his thoughts were interrupted when they came across a glade in the forest.
The trees, which before now had been dense and closely packed, were here spaced widely to form a clearing several metres across. But there was still a thick canopy of branches and leaves above them, obscuring the sky which peeked through in bursts of delicate lilac. In the centre of the clearing stood an enormous tree trunk that had to have been several metres across.
Speckles of pink glitter appeared to dance up the trunk, causing a sparkling, refractive glow of delicate light. The trunk was solid, but the branches around it and the canopy above were swaying and rustling, even though Steve couldn’t feel a breeze on his face. He looked over at Iron Man, who was examining the glade with eager curiosity.
Suddenly the entire thicket around them shifted; vines wrapping and unwrapping across each other and the trees shaking and bending. Steve looked around, trying to pinpoint the source of the movement, but his vision was filled with flying vines and loose leaves that swirled around him in pink clouds.
He spun around, looking for Tony, but there was no sight of him. Steve tried to push forward through the canopy but his leg was trapped behind him. He turned in shock and saw that a vine had wrapped itself around his calf and was snaking up towards his knee.
“Tony?” he called out, but his voice barely carried above the whooshing and rustling of the plant around him. “Iron Man, are you th-”
He broke off with an oof of surprise when another vine wrapped around his middle, holding him tight. He tried to kick off the vine that was now climbing up his leg, but there was strength beneath the slick surface of the vine and it clung to him despite him tugging it at.
Steve took a breath. Panic was weakness, and it would do him no good here. He formulated a plan: he did seem to be dealing with one living organism, this thing that they had at first mistaken for a thicket of trees. That meant it must have vulnerabilities, and exploiting vulnerabilities was his specialty.
All he had to do was reach a projectile weapon of some sort. There was a knife tucked into the top of his boot that he could throw-
But as he reached down to take the knife, a third vine whipped out and caught around his wrist. He was truly pinned now, immobilized at the leg, the waist, and the arm. There was no sign of Tony between the dense foliage, and Steve cursed himself for needing to be helped at all.
It didn’t take long for his anger to be replaced by the stirrings of horror though, as the tips of the vines holding him in place began to stroke and poke at his body. The vine around his middle found the join at the back of his uniform and started to worm inside, the slick surface shocking against his skin. And when he looked down, the vine around his leg was creeping steadily higher, pressing at the inside of his thigh curiously.
All Steve could do was watch in mute dread as the vines probed at the edges of his uniform and slid inside the fabric, pressing up against his skin. His mouth was dry and his vision blurred, symptoms he recognized as the influence of some kind of drug. At the fringes of his vision, pink sparkles danced and glowed, but when he turned his head to look more closely they fizzled and disappeared.
The vine around his leg pushed higher, sliding across his crotch in a way that he refused to acknowledge. His body must have twitched though, because the vine paused in its progress. It slid backwards, running an undulating layer of heat over his dick.
At the same time, another vine slithered over his shoulder. It worked its way between the buttons of his shirt, sliding curiously across the coarse hair on his chest. Then it pushed further, stretching across his torso with a strength belied by its delicate appearance. When the tip of the vine flicked across his nipple he let out a tiny stunted gasp that carried clearly over the rustle of leaves and vines around him.
He tried to stay perfectly still and ignore everything that was happening around him. The creature wasn’t buying it though, and the vine pressed more firmly against his cock, making him gasp in spite of himself.
“Oh hell no-” he started, but that only seemed to encourage it further, the vine tracing the outline of his now unfortunately hardening cock through his pants. The vine exploring his chest was joined by another which trailed down his back and curled around his ribs, rippling across the skin under his shirt. The texture of the vines was slick and soft, but they had power to them which they demonstrated by worming through tiny gaps in his uniform and busting out the seams of the fabric as they moved.
The tentacle around his wrists pinned them together while the other two slithered over and explored his body, one nudging up against his cock. The more he tried to fight them off, the more they tightened, and despite his super strength he was concerned that they could easily crush him.
He pushed aside the urge to fight and he forced himself to relax. When he did, the tentacles unwound until he could at least breathe again.
And then, the strangest thing, he heard a deep, croaky voice that seemed to pop into his head from no obvious source.
SQUISHY, the voice said.
Steve blinked. The tentacles continued to explore, wrapping around his limbs and poking curiously at his body. They seemed particularly attracted to skin, seeking out the slivers of exposed skin between his gloves and shirt and the seam between his boots and legs.
Steve steeled himself as a tentacle snuck into his sleeve and pulled up his forearm. Whatever this creature was, it was clearly telepathic or capable of communicating with him in some way, which implied that it could be reasoned with.
“My name is Captain Hydra,” he said, working to keep his voice even. “Living legend, commander of Hydra’s vast army, and the Sentinel of Sin. What is it that you want from me?”
The vines squeezed him tight for a second before loosening.
SQUISHY, the voice said again.
Steve grit his teeth in frustration and racked his brain to think of how to communicate with this… whatever it was. Perhaps sign language? But he was distracted from his musings by the slick feel of a tentacle worming its way into the waistband of his pants.
The end of the tentacle flicked teasingly at the head of his unfortunately hardening cock and Steve failed to repress a full body shiver at the sensation of slick heat. He was aware of a vague hum of curiosity in the air around him before the tentacle reached further into his pants and wrapped itself fully around his cock.
Steve bit back a groan as sensations slicked up and down his cock, struggling uselessly against the other tentacles which held him firmly in place. The heat was intense, bordering on painful, and the tentacle tightened further around his shaft, leaving him breathless.
He could only thrash as the tentacle began to undulate, sending ripples of pain and pain and pleasure zipping throughout his body with each stroke.
YOU HUNGER, the voice interrupted.
“Uh-” Steve did indeed have an increased metabolism, and it had been at least a day since he’d had time to eat, but he’d survived much longer without food and it seemed odd that the creature would focus on that. “-not really?”
The vines around him rippled and a section ahead of him parted for a moment, just long enough for him to glimpse shiny red and gold armor. He tried to call out to Tony, but the creature shifted and shoved a tentacle into his mouth. He coughed against the intrusion and focused on trying not to choke.
YOU HUNGER FOR HIM.
The vines closed again, hiding Tony from view, and Steve spat the tentacle out of his mouth petulantly. “That is ridiculous, he is my archenemy, and as low a human being as I’ve-”
SATE YOUR HUNGER.
“Wait, what?” Surely it couldn’t possibly mean-
He was distracted by the sensation of a tentacle sliding into the back of his pants and gently stroking across his ass check. He tensed up, confused and uncertain and maddeningly aroused by the feeling of the tentacles still around his cock.
SATE YOUR HUNGER. FUCK OR DIE.
The tip of the tentacle behind him slid down the crack and his ass and played softly over his hole. Steve admonished himself to calm down, to take a breath, to save his strength should the creature pose any immediate physical danger. Right now it didn’t seem to want to hurt him, although it clearly could.
The tentacles continued to play over his cock and around his hole. Perhaps this was just… how the creature communicated? He couldn't imagine that being the most efficient mode of communication, but it clearly had some understanding of his urges.
The pulsing warmth of the tentacle pressed into his ass, just barely, just enough for him to feel the stretch around his rim. He wanted- God, he wanted-
It withdrew for a moment and Steve would deny it to his dying day, but he let out a little keening sound of loss. But then the tentacle circled back, slid in deeper, several inches of slick warmth pressing into him. The slick surface of the tentacle slipped inside him easily, but there was a steely core of strength at its heart. Steve could feel the firmness as the tentacles pushed deeper, seemed to expand and engorge.
And then the tentacle in his ass starting rippling, sending waves of sensation throughout his body. In perfect time with the tentacle fluttering around his cock, the many arms all intent on wrapping around him and exploring every inch of his body.
Steve’s eyes had slid shut, and when he opened them he jerked back in surprise.
The canopy had shifted again, and now through the foliage Steve could clearly see Tony, still in the armor but immobilized by strong vines. He saw how Tony's eyes were wide and his mouth was slack with shock, beads of sweat running down his temples.
And if he could see Tony, Tony could see him. Steve could only imagine what he looked like: uniform ripped and shredded, splayed wide and held up by the vines, tentacles sliding across his chest and around his dick and into his ass.
Tony would see exactly how much Steve was enjoying this. The thought filled him with a burst of shame, though he couldn’t rationalize why. Why should he care what Iron Man, of all people, would think of him? Why did it seem so wrong?
Because you like him, a voice in his head supplied. You like him and you want him to like you.
It was weakness on his part to allow his enemy to see him vulnerable. It wasn't right to want this, to want this so much-
He was snapped out his his thoughts by the tentacle in his ass which seemed to be growing even wider. It filled him so deeply, he felt so stuffed, so full-
He tossed his head back so he wouldn’t have to look at Iron Man any more, and as he did he heard a gasp that he was sure didn’t come from him. The tentacles worked him open, more coming in to run over his limbs and his chest. He was so close-
He heard heavy breathing that could only be coming from Tony. It seemed like he was enjoying the show after all.
And God, the idea of Tony watching him, knowing that he could see exactly how far gone Steve was… he shuddered all over, embarrassment and desire tugging at him simultaneously. The meaty heft of the vine pushing into him, the rippling tease of the other vine around his cock, the feather-light touches all over his skin, his nipples, the sensitive spot at the base of his neck… it was too much.
Steve’s eyes rolled back and he let himself be swept away on the wave of sensations, pulsing and thrumming and sparkling all around him. The pressure coiling low in his gut twitched and throbbed and he let himself sink into a cacophony of touches, the intensity building and building.
He reached a peak and froze for a second, the feeling of weightlessness that you have for just a moment before you fall. And then he plunged down and down and down, coming with a shuddering gasp. His cock throbbed and pulsed, spraying come across himself and the vines, pleasure wrung out of him with a forceful twist. As he twitched, he felt a disconcerting little zing in his ass as the tentacle there rippled and pulsed.
SQUISHY, the voice said again. And then it was gone.
With that, the vines gave him one more squeeze and began to retreat, pulling away from his skin and out of his uniform, winding back into whatever canopy they had come from, leaving a thin layer of slick slime where they had been.
Steve breathed, concentrated on getting his feet under him, failed, and dropped to his knees on the damp ground. A sort of calm descended on him. No more fighting now.
He gazed upwards vacantly as the tentacles receded and the entire structure of the canopy shivered and changed. The vines withdrew back into the main body of the mass at the centre of the clearing, until Steve was left lying on a clear patch of ground.
He looked over and, with relief he was surprised to feel, he saw that Tony was laying a few meters away, apparently whole and unhurt. And, judging by the fact his armor was still intact, presumably unmolested by tentacles too.
Tony sat up, searching him out frantically. “Captain?” he called out. “You okay?”
Steve pulled himself together and made an effort to appear more collected than he felt. “I’m fine,” he snapped. “Damn alien plant caught me by surprise, that’s all. Didn't do any lasting harm.”
The polite silence from Tony that followed suggested that he didn’t totally believe Steve. Concern was etched across his kind, irritatingly handsome face. “Are you sure?” he asked gently. “It sounded like you were struggling there-”
“I’m fine, Stark,” Steve growled. “Unlike you heroes, I don’t need coddling.”
Tony held up his hands appeasingly. “Alright, if you say so.” He glanced down at Steve’s pants and swallowed. “I was just showing a bit of healthy concern for my temporary teammate.”
Steve scoffed at that. As if he would ever deign to work on a team with those do-gooding Avengers. Then he made the mistake of looking down to see the cum stains splattered across his pants. He made an effort to turn so that Tony wouldn’t see, trying to hide his shame, but judging by the wide-eyed look Tony was giving him was too late for that.
Embarrassment burned inside Steve as he shuffled his hands to hide the stains. He felt his cheeks heating. “I don’t need your concern, and I am certainly not your teammate,” he said snappily. “Not in this world or in any other.”
He rose to move on, but he was aware of a cramping pain that spread between his temples, a thrumming pressure that made him even more short tempered than usual. He tried to walk away and the pain intensified.
He pushed forward, striding towards the edge of the clearing, but his vision blurred and wavered for a moment, dizziness threatening to overtake him. He shoved the sensation of pain to the back of his mind and forced himself to walk in what he hoped was the right direction.
He caught sight of Tony giving him a worried look, but he followed after him without complaint.
The more steps that Steve took, however, the worse he felt. The pain built rapidly from uncomfortable to unbearable, a screaming lance burning through his skull. It was too much for him: he pitched over sideways and hit the damp ground with a dull thud.
He could hear Tony’s voice but he couldn’t see anything. His vision had faded to black as he fell, and though he turned his head and tried to orientate himself, he could only flail in the directions of the sounds around him.
“Here, Cap, I’ve got you, it’s okay.”
Steve felt strong hands tugging him into Iron Man’s lap and a metal thumb gently swiping over his brow. Steve tried to growl and bat his hand away but the noise that came out was a pathetic whine. The pain was becoming truly unbearable now, and even though Steve was used to sustaining injuries of all kinds he was unaccustomed to dealing with prolonged agony since he’d taken the serum.
There were quiet sounds of clanking metal and clasps releasing, then Steve felt the gentle touch of fingers on his face. The moment that skin touched him, it was as if the pain had been switched off like a light switch.
He snapped his eyes open, more grateful that he wanted to admit that the agony had passed, and tried to sit up and push Tony off him. The moment he did, however, the pain returned in full force. He gasped and collapsed back to the ground, feeling angry and pathetic.
“Hey, don’t struggle, let me take a look at you.”
The clever fingers were back on his face, running a line across his forehead and stroking softly down his cheek. Each touch felt like electricity; the agonising pain from before transformed into bursts of glorious pleasure.
Steve breathed for a moment and allowed warmth and gratification to overwhelm the memory of the pain from before. But only for a moment. He had a job to do, which was to escape from this god-forsake planet, and he was damned if he was going to be distracted from his mission by a bit of prissy face touching from his archenemy.
He pushed Tony’s hand aside for a second time and rocked up onto his knees, ready to push forward into the jungle once more. But the moment he stood he knew he had made a mistake. The pain was excruciating, returning with a force so powerful he could barely stand.
SATE YOUR HUNGER, the memory of the voice in his head helpfully reminded him.
As he collapsed back to the ground, Tony’s arms went around his shoulders, supporting him and holding his weight. “I think it’s best if you don’t try to move, Cap,” Tony said softly. As if he was delicate. As if he was in need.
Steve wanted to shove him off but was distracted by the warm sensation of Tony’s hand against his shoulder. In fact, if he concentrated he could feel a line of heat everywhere that his body was pressed against the armor, in a line across his shoulders and above his hips.
That was strange. Surely the armor ought to feel cold? But it was as if every touch burned down to his skin and stoked a deep, burning fire within him.
FUCK OR DIE.
Steve allowed Tony to hold him up, then swiveled in his arms so they were face to face. Tony let out a tiny gasp as Steve rounded on him, their faces suddenly very close together.
“Cap?” he began uncertainty. “You doing okay there? Your eyes- Well. They’re. Um. Do they usually do that?”
Steve ignored him and pressed his face into Tony’s neck, tongue darting out to flick along the pulse point. He could also hear the blood rushing under Tony’s skin, the heat and motion of it so close by.
When Tony’s hand dropped to Steve’s hip, Steve could feel the burning sensation through his uniform and down to his very bones. It seemed urgently, frantically important to feel more of Tony’s hands on his body.
FUCK OR DIE.
“I’m- Yes- I need-” Steve struggled, trying to form words while his head was a whirling mess of heat and touch and want.
He leaned into Tony’s touch, let him take more of his weight, pushed their bodies together from knees to shoulders. He realized belatedly that he was painfully hard, and that there was no way that Tony wouldn’t notice. It occurred to him that he really ought to feel ashamed about rubbing up against his arch enemy, but actually it just felt… exciting.
Tony’s hands went around his waist, seemingly more out of concern for his stability than anything else, but even so he couldn’t help gasping at the light touch of fingers. He wanted more.
“What do you need, Cap?” Tony asked carefully. “I don’t know much about your physiology, so you’re going to have to tell me how to help you. Can you do that for me?”
Steve bit his lip and shook his head, desperately trying to focus. He wanted- he needed- No, he couldn’t ask that. He wouldn’t ask that. Not of Iron Man, of all people.
“Just tell me what you need, Steve. I promise I’ll do my best to help.”
A crawling, awful sensation wormed under Steve’s skin. He knew what it was that he needed. The creature had made it clear: he needed to fuck, or he would die. It certainly felt like his body was craving the touch of others.
But craving the touch of nameless others was one thing. Wanting to jump your sworn arch enemy was quite another. Iron Man was everything he despised; symbol of the weak and soft Avengers with their happy smiles and delicate features. Hands that carried young children carringly from fires, that would wrap around his thighs with equal care. Strong planes of armor that had stood in his way so many times, that could hold him down and match him as no other man could…
The pulsing want inside his head built to a deafening crescendo. God damn it.
“I need you to fuck me, okay?” Steve snarled, all of the tension snapping out of him in one furious burst. “I need you to pin me down and fuck me right here and now.”
“Oh,” said Tony. “I- uh- oh.”
“That alien plant did something to me. It had these tentacles and it- well, never mind about that. But it was psychic, and it told me I had to sate my hunger.”
Tony was looking at him agape. Mercifully, he was still holding on to Steve around his waist, which he had a horrible feeling was the only thing keeping him upright. “That’s… wow… first contact with an alien species? And it told you to, what, have sex? That’s bizarre, and slightly horrifying, oh my god, we need to find out more-”
“It said I had to fuck or die,” Steve spat, feeling suddenly self conscious about the blush he knew was spreading up his neck and the hard length of his cock which Tony surely must have noticed pushing into his thigh by now.
“You have to… with me?”
“Oh no, Stark, there are plenty of other options. Maybe I could go and fuck that tree over there? I’m sure that would be greatly satisfying for all parties!” Steve was bordering on hysterical at this point, and he knew it.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Tony ran his fingers down Steve’s chest in a soothing motion. Steve didn’t want to acknowledge it, but his whole body shuddered with relief at the comforting touch. “If you need… that, then of course I’ll give it to you.”
Damn heroes. Always so selfless. In that moment, Steve hated Iron Man more intensely than ever before .
But whatever his head had to say about his current situation, his body knew exactly what it wanted. Goosebumps blossomed everywhere under Tony’s touch, and he leaned in closer to get more of that thrilling sensation.
“Is this okay?” Tony asked, tracing a finger from the hollow of Steve’s throat down to his belly. “Does that feel good?”
Unbidden, Steve head himself make a desperate little whining noise. The damp ground was cold against his knees where he knelt, though throbbing heat continued to race and hum under his skin. When Tony touched him, his entire awareness narrowed to the slim point of contact between their bodies.
Tony continued to touch, ever so gently, running a hand over the fabric of Steve’s uniform as if he were a startled deer that might flee at any moment. With a growl of impatience, Steve ripped off his uniform shirt and threw it to the ground, grabbing Tony’s hands and putting them back on his chest, encouraging him to touch, to squeeze, to explore.
Tony swallowed hard and pulled off his gauntlets, tossing then aside with a clank. The view of soft pink skin emerging from shiny metal made Steve’s mouth water, and when he moved his naked fingers back to Steve's chest, Steve arched his back to meet the delicate touch.
A sort of dizzying thrum filled Steve's head: all he could think of was yes and like that and more. His arms looped around Tony's waist and he found himself grinding shamelessly up against one metal thigh.
Mercifully, it wasn’t only him that was affected. The faceplate of Tony’s helmet was flipped up and Steve could see that his cheeks were pink, with little beads of sweat running down his temples. Tony was breathing hard even though the only place that Steve could feel skin was on his forearms.
Steve’s fingers probed at the edges of the elbow joints of the armor, greedily trying to touch more. He let out a little noise of frustration as the fitted metal prevented him from feeling more skin beneath his fingers. “Come on, come on,” he mumbled.
Tony swallowed hard and let out a shaky breath. “Yeah, ok, yeah…” he breathed. The reticence that had been holding him back before was quickly tossed aside. Tony clumsily rippled pieces of armor off his arms and chest, showing surprisingly little care for his creation, and Steve’s hands were on him the moment skin was exposed.
Tony was not satisfied with this yet though, pushing aside the torn strips of Steve’s uniform until they could both press together, skin to skin.
The deep, intense heat that Steve was feeling deep inside himself sparked and pulsed at the skin contact, a crackling vein of hunger that Steve knew needed to be sated. He pushed Tony up against a hefty purple tree trunk, dropped to his knees, and scrabbled at the front of the armor for the catches.
Tony stared at him open mouthed for a second, before guiding his fingers to the releases and helping Steve toss the remaining pieces of armor aside. Steve was left face to face with strong, muscular thighs with thick carpet of dark hair over smooth skin, vanishing teasingly into tight black underwear where he could already see the outline of Tony’s cock twitching against his belly.
Steve licked his lips and decided that there were in fact some upsides to being flung across space with his ostensible archenemy.
Best alien planet ever.
Tony’s hands went around the trunk behind him to hold himself up, leaving Steve with the perfect angle to lean forward and lick a long stripe along Tony’s cock through his underwear. Tony swore creatively and Steve smirked. Not so heroic now, huh?
Nuzzling close into Tony crotch, Steve inhaled a deep scent of sweat, sex, and a zingy note of metal that reminded him for some reason of the vines. All Steve knew was that he wanted this cock in him, in every way he could think of, as soon as possible.
He pawed at Tony’s underwear, pulling it down and bristling with anticipation as Tony’s cock bounced free. Steve barely paused for breath before swallowing him down, enjoying the weight on his tongue while Tony swore and threaded his fingers into Steve’s hair.
As he sucked and slurped, messily, saliva running down his chin, a warm tingly sensation flitted through his body and pooled low in his stomach. It felt good, but he wanted more.
Pulling off Tony’s cock with an obscene pop, Steve tossed aside the last of their clothes and reached behind himself to open himself up. He was still wet and loose from whatever those vines had done to him and his fingers slid inside with a satisfying push.
Tony gawped at him like all his dreams were coming true.
“You ready?” Steve asked with a grin.
Steve rolled onto his hands and knees and encouraged Tony until he was lined up behind him, hard cocking pushing against the back of his thigh.
“God, Cap, you’re so-”
“Get on with it,” Steve hissed, a roil of desperate anticipation reverberating through him.
“Yeah, okay, I got you,” Tony breathed as his cock pushed up against Steve’s ass.
Steve made himself relax and his body welcomed Tony in, the slow slide inside him sparking every nerve in a glorious buzz of sensation.
Tony bottomed out, drew back slowly, and then slammed into Steve hard enough to drive the air from his lungs. All that passed through Steve’s mind was a litany of yes yes yes yes.
Sensation raced outwards from where Tony was entering him, flowing up through his chest and down his limbs; a cracking, spark of electricity that made their bodies pulse together in time. Dots of pink light bloomed at the edges of his vision, everything around him seemed to recede, until there was only their bodies and the relentless heat between them.
For a while there was a simple feeling of calm, of contentment, or cresting waves of pleasure that washed through him and left him warm and boneless. He could feel Tony above him, sweaty chest pressed against his back, behind him, their thighs bumping up together in rhythmic slaps, and inside him, filling him up and stretching him wide.
He must have gasped aloud, because Tony slowed and hand a hand comfortingly down his chest, let them breathe together, holding him close. And then Tony’s hand kept moving, wrapping awkwardly but so satisfyingly around his cock and pumping him as he continued to push deep inside.
The pulsing pink in his vision increased in frequency, blood rushing through his ears, and he could barely gasp in enough air. All it took was a few careful flicks of Tony’s wrist and he was coming again, panting desperately as he unravelled, body shaking and clenching down as he rode out the overwhelming force of his orgasm.
He was dimly aware of Tony making a strangled gasping sound behind him and pushing in for a few last thrusts. Then he could feel Tony spilling inside him, the slick feeling of cum coating him inside.
They collapsed to the ground together, a messy tangle of sweaty limbs and sated sighs. Steve couldn’t stop himself from smiling, boneless, finally satisfied and filled with a deep sense of gratification.
He rolled over to see Tony beaming at him, all of the usual guardedness gone from his eyes. He sure was handsome when he smiled like that, Steve thought woozily.
"You good?" Tony asked huskily. "Death no longer imminent?"
Steve nodded, warmth and calm still washing through him.
Tony smiled even more. "I'm good too."
When Tony gently extricated himself from his arms, Steve told himself that he didn’t feel a pang of loss. It sure would have been nice to spend a little longer tangled together. But Tony was already pulling on his clothes and passing Steve the tattered remains of his uniform.
“You know what,” Tony said, a thoughtful look in his eyes, “I think we’ve been going about this all wrong. We’re not going to just happen upon a way back home. We’re going to need to create a way back ourselves.”
Steve blinked, his body and mind still wobbly and soft from the effects of the alien plant (or from the mind-blowing orgasm, his brain helpfully supplied). It seemed like Tony was a post-sex talker. Great. He let Tony ramble.
“Cause, see, we were brought here by a console bank blowing up, right? So whatever circuitry was in that console must have facilitated the transport, and that means it should have been displaced too.”
“Right, so the raw materials that constitute the console must be here on this planet too. But they weren’t with us where we landed - I looked for non-organic materials and didn’t find anything. So where are they?”
Pretty blue eyes regarded him closely. Steve grunted again.
“Of course! Organic and non-organic matter are differently displaced when moving through non-linear quantum fields. Just as well my armor was in contact with me or I would have ended up here naked.”
That did get Steve’s attention. “Mmm?” he interjected. “That sounds… not so bad, actually.”
But Tony was paying little attention to him now, his brain already whirring to find a solution.
“I just need to calculate the trajectories, allowing for the displacement…”
Steve expected Tony to pull out a computer, or at the very least a pen. But he just squinted and mumbled to himself - and from reading his lips, Steve could see he was running the numbers in his head. Steve didn’t know enough to be sure how complex the equations were, but it seemed pretty impressive nonetheless.
Eventually, Tony hummed with satisfaction. “The components we need should be about 5 miles out. I can’t determine the direction, so we’ll have to use a circular search pattern.”
Steve got to his feet and peered between the dark trees. At least now they had a plan and a direction to head it. Getting home was obviously their first priority.
He couldn’t have said why he felt a little wistful as they grabbed their things and left the clearing. It wasn’t as if he had any reason to want to stay here, was it?
They stumbled around the forest for several hours, Tony repeatedly and cheerfully informing him that he was sure that they materials they need would be just through the next clearing. Steve let him take the lead, which would have chafed had it not been for the fact that he’d be hopelessly lost without whatever calculations Tony was doing in his head. A good leader had to know when to let another take charge, he told himself.
It felt good to lose himself in the hike, in the simple pleasures of one foot in front of the other. He felt sore in sensitive places, but in a nice way, a dull ache that came from straining for pleasure rather than from violent necessity.
It felt good, too, to be here with Tony. To his surprise, Tony had a sense of humor and more of an easy going attitude when he wasn’t in battle mode. As they walked, he explained to Steve about the materials they were searching for and he theorized out loud about the atmosphere and ecology of the planet around them.
When they finally came across a clearing scattered with machine parts that were recognisably created by humans and which appeared to have fallen from the sky, Tony grinned massively and Steve felt a unexpected pang of sadness.
“Oh marvellous, the capacitors are still good,” Tony said eagerly, turning over the pieces of metal in his hands. “And the power pack seems undamaged. It shouldn’t take long for me to piece this back together.”
And Tony was off, scurrying around the clearing, picking up pieces of machine, fashioning tools from broken parts. Steve perched on a rock and took guard duty, watching the forest for any more signs of amorous trees or strange creatures. But there was nothing, just the same jeweled colors and vibrant plants that they had seen before.
As he waited, Steve found himself watching Tony: the way his fingers ran delicately over circuitry and the way his brow furrowed when he examined a problem. When he was deep in concentration, the tip of his tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth and Steve found himself staring, a flush forming across his cheeks. Clearly he was suffering some extended effects from whatever that alien plant had done to him.
Eventually, Tony gave a little “Ah-ha!” of triumph and turned to Steve to present his contraption. It looked like some kind of industrial nightmare, with wires and circuitry sticking out at odd angles and a big red power switch right in the middle.
“Is that supposed to get us home?” Steve ask, somewhat aghast.
“No worries,” Tony said breezily. “All I had to do is recreate the explosion that brought us here, but invert the power levels to reverse the process. This should do the trick.”
Steve curled a lip skeptically. Surely that wasn’t how complex interplanetary physics worked? That sounded like some comic book nonsense.
On the other hand, Steve was fairly certain that Tony wasn’t trying to kill them both, and he didn’t have any better ideas. He was just going to have to trust Tony. How grim.
“It’ll be fine,” Tony said comfortingly, patting his shoulder, and Steve wanted to yell that he wasn’t afraid; he was merely expressing healthy misgivings. But there didn’t seem to be a lot of point to that, so he gave a tight nod instead.
“Alright, take my hand,” Tony said, offering a gauntleted hand to him palm up. Steve pouted at the ridiculousness of that but couldn’t help admiring the glint of the golden repulsor in the elegant armor. “We need to be physically connected,” Tony explained.
Steve summoned what little remained of his dignity and braced himself, then clasped Tony’s hand in a firm grip. He decided that the fluttering sensation in his stomach was due to tactical concerns about the risks of their plan.
“That’s nice,” Tony said, and he sounded warm and soppy even through the armor’s voice modulator. Steve rigorously pretended like that didn’t send a buzz of warmth through him. “Okay, I’m going to flip the switch now. Deep breath and we’ll be home soon. 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… Go!”
There was a loud whooshing sound and the air around Steve seemed to crackle and warp. His stomach lurched violently as gravity flickered and disappeared for a moment. Then, with a flash, the environment around him snapped into another configuration.
The room he was in was cooler and the air lacked the heavy humidity of that strange planet. Turning his head enough to see that Tony was lying on the floor nearby, Steve relaxed.
Blinking woozily in the dim light, he looked around. Flashing red lights, no daylight, metal around him. Thank god, they were back on Earth. By the looks of it, they were back in the very room in which they’d fought yesterday.
“I never thought I’d be so glad to see this dingy place again,” he said with a happy sigh, genuine relief making him candid.
Tony slid up the faceplate and scratched at the back of his neck - a jarring sight which belied his nervousness. It wasn’t right for the mighty Iron Man to look sheepish and uncertain.
“Uhh, glad it worked out. That, uhh, reversing the machine brought us back.”
Steve gave him a quizzical look. Now they were back on solid ground, all of their delicate camaraderie from earlier seemed to have floated away.
“So,” Tony continued, not looking Steve in the eye, “I suppose the next time we meet-”
Steve sensed the rejection coming and hurried to get there first. “Next time we meet,” he interrupted Tony, “all bets are off. We’re back to being enemies once again.”
Tony’s brow pinched into a frown but it was gone in a second. Steve must have imagined the sadness that flickered briefly across his features.
“Just how it was before,” Tony agreed.
Without another word, Steve turned heel and made a break for the nearest exit, not looking back.
One week later:
Steve checked his gear for a second time, and then a third. Everything was as it should be, in its place. He couldn’t explain why nervous energy was pumping through his veins as he swung up to scale the imposing brick wall stretching above him in the dark.
He scampered up the first 30 feet easily, then found a row of exposed bricks that had crumbled away enough to form handholds. With a grunt he leapt and grabbed at one handhold, swinging his legs beneath him to power him over a windowsill and into an open third floor window.
He dropped onto thick, plush carpet and paused for a second while his hammering heart returned to a normal rate. It was odd that a light climb had affected him so much, and he drummed his fingers anxiously against his thigh.
Padding silently down the dark corridor he spied dim light spilling from under the door of a room at the end. He crept closer, taking care that his breathing remained silent.
Poised outside the door, he pulled his trusty knife from his boot top and gripped it, ready for action.
In one fluid movement he pushed open the door and rolled across the floor, kicking out a leg to smash the lamp off the bedside table and plunging the room into darkness.
The room’s occupant had only a second to snatch in a breath before Steve was on top of him, pinning him to the bed with a knife to his throat.
Wide, pretty blue eyes stared at him in shock, and then the face broke out into a grin so broad that Steve could see teeth glinting in the moonlight.
“Why Captain,” Tony breathed, “I seem to be quite at your mercy.”
The sight of Tony pliant and amused beneath him was enough to reduce Steve’s brain momentarily to jelly. “Iron Man,” he said with a tight nod. He struggled to remember the mission he was supposed to be focused on.
The plan had been simple enough: infiltrate the Avengers mansion, locate Stark, immobilize and contain him and then… That was as far as his plan had gotten, actually, which was an unusual misstep for a master tactician.
He lost his train of thought entirely when Tony rolled his hips up against him.
“I… You…” Steve tried. He leaned back a fraction and tossed the knife aside, not needing it any more. “You said next time we saw each other, all bets were off.” The memory of Tony casually tossing that line off made something twist painfully in Steve’s chest. It somehow felt an awful lot like regret.
“No, you were the one who said that,” Tony said facetiously. “I was going to ask you to come back to the mansion with me.”
Steve blinked, then shoved aside a sudden wave of yawning hope. “A pathetic ruse! As if I would fall for your attempts to entrap me. You would have brought me here and handed me over to your precious authorities.”
Tony actually rolled his eyes. “Actually, I was going to offer to have you checked out. Make sure all of that… whatever it was from the alien planet was out of your system. Whatever your moral transgressions may be, you still deserve medical care.”
Steve sat back on his haunches and eyed Tony suspiciously. In the dim of the room, the streaks of grey around his temples gleamed in the moonlight. Was it possible…? Would Tony really have… ? For him?
Steve imagined Tony and himself, together, on this planet. Even if only temporarily, the idea of them aligning for a moment in between all the fighting. Steve turned the thought over in his mind, examining it like a bright and precious gem.
“And I was going to offer to… lend you my services again.” Tony looked at him from under his lashes and smirked, but the smile was wobbly and the attempt at flirting was awkward. Steve tried not to find it endearing. “In case you needed… that... again… because of the alien thing.”
Steve stopped for a moment. Paused. Considered.
Then he bent right back into Tony’s personal space, mere inches between their faces. He could feel Tony hot and hard beneath him, and he gasped as he ground down against him in slow circles. Tony’s fingers flew to his thighs, gripping on tight through the rough fabric of his uniform.
Steve braced himself to jump once more into the unknown. “One more time,” he breathed, leaning forward to capture Tony’s lips in a kiss, “And then all bets are off.”