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Mark Sixty-Nine

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Steve's grin was big as his boots hit the ground, stepping forward a couple steps and out of Tony's armored grip as he cut the momentum to their landing. Tony was already trapped, bots stripping him of his armor as he walked the length of his landing pad. Steve fell into easy step beside him.

“I'm not saying anything negative, no, you're misunderstanding me,” Tony protested, hands flapping about even as his bots stripped him of his armor.

Steve walked alongside him with a knowing smile on his face. “Right. Nothing like that,” he replied dryly.

“No. I'm just saying I'm insulted, is all. You insulted me.” Tony jabbed one unarmored finger at Steve's chest. On impulse, Steve caught the finger and held it. Tony grinned at the miniature act of aggression, causing Steve to grin back at his approval. They got so caught up in a feedback cycle of grinning at each other that Tony ended up stumbling over his own feet at the end of his platform, and Steve had to rush forward to grab him. That only resulted in Steve stumbling over himself, and in the end they were barely standing, clinging to each other's arms and chests just outside Tony's penthouse. Tony cracked up, while Steve shook his head ruefully.

“Insulted?” Steve tried to continue the conversation.

Pulling Steve in even closer against him, Tony looked up at Steve with those bedroom eyes of his. “Yeah. Insulted. If you wanted to go flying, you should have come to me first.”

“It wasn't planned. I was falling off a helicarrier into the Potomac at the time. Kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing.” Steve squeezed at Tony, hands running over his back. “Are you jealous?”

Tony scoffed at that. “Jealous? I'm Tony Stark. I have the best of everything. What could some geeky flyboy have that I would be jealous of? I've got money, good looks, fast cars, a way cooler ride than his bird wings...”

“And you've got me,” Steve pointed out. “And you better get over this since you guys are having dinner together next week.”

Tony groaned and walked away, dragging Steve by one hand behind him. “I'm going to forget about that, you know.”

“No you won't. Nat says she's coaxed Bucky out to come have dinner in public with us. This is a big deal.”

As they strolled into the penthouse together, Tony turned to Steve, continuing his walk backwards. “I'm not promising to make friends.”

Steve grinned. “You're just jealous that Rhodey likes him.”

Tony's eyes narrowed as he glared at Steve. “I already told you why I don't like him: bird-boy got one of your firsts. And I don't like sharing you or your firsts.”

Steve's stomach fluttered at that, for reasons he was secure enough to recognize. He liked Tony's possessive streak. And he liked that Tony had taken so many of his “firsts.” Steve was a romantic like that: always had been. And even though Tony had all the experience under the sun, it felt... special, to Steve. Hopefully to Tony, too. Steve thought it did.

Steve pointed this out. “You have plenty of my firsts. We weren't even together then.” His ears heated, and he knew he was blushing. From the way Tony was grinning at him like he had plans, he was blushing pretty bright.

“Yeah, but this one was an armor-related first. No one else should have taken you on your first flight, our status as a thing notwithstanding.”

Steve's stomach flipped as he suggested: “I'm sure there are other firsts I haven't had yet. Ones you could think of.”

Tony actually came to a dead stop at that, eyebrows perking up like cat ears. “Armor-related firsts?”

Steve scuffed his feet on the ground and shoved his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched. “I don't know what that tech of yours can do. I'm sure there's some trick you want to try with me that you haven't yet.”

Tony licked his lips. Steve hunched his shoulders harder, worried he had just bit off more than he could chew. “You might be right at that...” Tony mumbled, half to himself. He twitched, suddenly focusing on Steve like he was coming out of a trance. “Hey. Wanna check off one of those firsts now?”

Steve jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the landing platform out the penthouse window. “You want to go back out? When we just came in?”

But Tony was already shaking his head as he reached for Steve's hand, before Steve was even done asking the question. “No, this is definitely not an outdoors thing.” Under his breath, Tony mumbled: “Not the first time, at least.”

“Should I even ask what you’ve got planned?”

“Only if you want to know.”

Tony shrugged one shoulder as he continued to tug Steve to the elevator of his penthouse, not letting go even once the doors shut behind them. Steve used the opportunity to slip his hand properly into Tony’s. They didn’t do that much, just hold hands. Tony glanced sidelong at him like he knew exactly what Steve was doing. Steve stared back defiantly, daring Tony to call him out on the sappy behavior. Unsurprisingly, he didn’t. Steve was beginning to realize that Tony was really a romantic at heart—he didn’t want to be, he didn’t even think of himself as one. But he was.

The elevator dinged a few floors down, letting them off at what Steve knew was one of Tony’s lab floors. He peered around at all the armor tech curiously, though without any real intent. All this stuff was way outside his area of expertise. Battle plans, strategy, skills and weaknesses, ships and tactical armor and guns: those were the sorts of things Steve knew. Not to mention paints, paper, and charcoal pencils. But this? Wires and circuitry and gadgets and gizmos? This stuff was Tony’s domain.

“Do I want to know?” Steve asked as Tony brought them both to a stop in front of one of his armors. If Steve recalled correctly, it was Tony’s Mark Sixty-Nine. Steve hadn’t questioned the name at the time, but suddenly it seemed a lot more… ominous.

Turning to Steve, Tony grinned at him with that dangerous gleam in his eye. That gleam that always meant Steve was in for a ride. Steve shifted a little, jeans suddenly getting kind of tight. What the heck did Tony have planned for him?

“Before any one else gets to you, I want to be the first one to fuck you with a mechanical aid.”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline. He tried his best to ignore the flush that he knew was spreading across his cheeks and down his neck as he asked dryly: “Was there a chance someone else was going to make love to me with a robot?”

Tony rolled his eyes as he reached for Steve’s belt. “I didn’t think there was a chance someone else would fly you around with their military-grade jet pack, but that happened before I got to you, so you never know.”

Steve laughed as Tony’s deft fingers undid his belt, then continued straight on for his button and flies. He didn’t protest in the slightest: on the contrary, he shimmied his hips to help Tony rid him of his pants faster. When the dropped to the ground Steve kicked them off, simultaneously tugging his shirt over his head. Tony was beaming at him approvingly.

“Besides, there’s always the chance you’d figure out how Amazon works and order yourself a vibrator while I’m away on business,” Tony continued his train of thought, even while his eyes roved up and down Steve’s body.

“I know what Amazon is,” Steve protested. His skin prickled slightly in the cool air of Tony’s lab, nipples hardening. Tony reached absent fingers out to tweak at one, then the other, while Steve waited. He wanted to reach out and touch Tony, to drag him in for a kiss, to stroke his hair and lay him down in a bed and make gentle love to him. But the Mark Sixty-Nine was standing behind Tony, cold and hard and at the ready, and the thought of Tony having plans for Steve and that was enough motivation for Steve to keep his hands to himself.

Tony shook his head as his eyes focused on Steve’s penis for a long moment. “I haven’t even touched you and you’re halfway at attention. I don’t know how much of that is serum and how much of that is youth.”

“Two sentences ago you were teasing me for being old. Can’t have it both ways.”

Tony grinned predatorily as he stepped into Steve’s personal space. Steve’s breath hitched, penis swelling more. He liked when Tony invaded his space. “Something tells me I can have you every way.”

Steve’s throat worked to swallow dry. “I haven’t stopped you yet.”

Body inches from Steve’s skin, Tony looked him up, then down, then up again, eyes stopping on Steve’s lips. “Get onto the couch. Hands and knees.”

Steve scrambled to obey, nerves shivering in anticipation of Tony’s plans. Behind him, Tony was grabbing bits and bobs off his workbench: a pair of high-tech glasses here, a glove there. By the time Steve was prostrated on the ratty old workroom couch, Tony had a pair of wire gloves on and the Mark Sixty-Nine armor was revving up beside him, stepping out of position. Steve breathed deep and turned away, hanging his head low between his shoulders.

“What are you going to do to me?” Steve asked, proud of how steady his voice sounded to his own ears. He stared hard at the tatty fibers of the couch beneath his nose while he listened to the sound of Tony and the armor making their way across the lab. Over to him.

“What do you think I’m going to do to you?” Tony asked.

“I didn’t see a robot penis on that thing.”

Tony’s laugh was loud and sharp, echoing through the cavernous space of his workshop. Steve grinned at the sound, grinned at the knowledge that he could surprise Tony, catch him off guard like that.

“No, you're right: not one of those for you tonight. But I do have something..." Tony trailed off. Steve's ears perked up as he listened to the familiar sound of Tony's under suit rustling softly, technologically advanced fabric sliding over itself as he moved. The much louder sound of the Mark Sixty-Nine moving behind him followed shortly after. Steve breathed through his nose as his heart raced in his chest.

He jumped at the first cool touch of the Mark Sixty-Nine, Steve wasn't ashamed to admit it. Behind him Tony laughed delightedly as the Iron Man's hands smoothed over his hips and waist.

“Scared?” Tony asked.

“Cold,” Steve shot back, glancing over his shoulder. The armor was leaning over him, imposing and solid. Just behind it was Tony, wired gloves over his hands as he instructed the armor how to move. When he caught Steve looking, he moved his hand down, cupping at the air. The armor holding onto Steve followed suit, sliding one cold metal hand down to cup at his ass. Tony squeezed at the air, and the armor squeezed Steve's ass. Laughing, Steve pushed his ass back, against the armor's unyielding hand.

“Like that?” Tony asked, eyes sparkling.

Steve shrugged, dropping his chin down onto his shoulder as he looked back at Tony. “Not exactly much to like yet, is there?”

Tony's grin turned sharper. “Is that a challenge, Rogers?”

Steve bit his lip to stop from laughing more. “I don't know, Stark. You going to show me what that suit of yours can really do?”

Tony's nose wrinkled as he moved his hands some more, kneading Steve's ass lightly with his armor's hands. “Don't call me Stark. I feel like you're talking to my father.”

“Clint calls you Stark. Natasha, too.” Steve's hips moved backwards, building up a lazy rhythm with the machine. He was starting to want some sort of attention to his erection at this point, but this was fine for now. Relaxing, even.

“Yeah, but neither Clint nor Natasha personally knew my dad. And when you call me 'Stark' while I'm rubbing your ass, it just raises all sorts of uncomfortable questions about exactly how well you knew my dad...”

Steve laughed. “Your dad was a ladies' man, Tony. When I knew him, at least.”

Tony snorted. “Yeah? So am I. And look where we are.” He moved his hands, the Iron Man mirroring his movements. One armored hand slid up his back to between his shoulders, then pushed down firmly. Steve let himself be manhandled, dropping down to his shoulders while he kept his rear pointed clear up to the ceiling. Steve shivered in anticipation. He felt so wanton like this, ass in the breeze, Tony not even touching him, brightly-lit and open lab leaving him exposed, on display for Tony. Steve slid his knees apart as his erection twitched in anticipation.

“This ass is a thing of beauty,” Tony mumbled to himself. The armor's hands were back to running over his ass, rubbing it meaningfully. Steve squirmed back against them. After another minute of unsatisfying massaging, he grew frustrated.

"Well? Are you going to do anything about my ass?" Steve prompted him.

Tony laughed, the armor going suddenly still against him. Steve froze, breath catching him his throat. “You want me to do something?” A faint whirring, the source of which Steve couldn't easily identify. Obviously it was the armor, but what it was doing , exactly...

A cool, wet, blunt edge stroked down Steve's crack. Steve tensed and then immediately relaxed, body spreading itself for Tony, inviting him in. Inviting the armor in.

“It's too bad you're the artist, because you deserve to be painted like this. Maybe I'll snap a picture next time and commission a piece.”

The armor continued to tease at his hole, one cold finger running up and down the outside, the other hand holding his hip firmly in place. With every teasing pass Steve got more and more wound up, body pushing back hard in desperation.

“Tony…” he finally ground out, teeth clenched.


Steve rubbed his face against his arm, practically panting for it. “Tony, come on.”

“Come? What come? Come what?”

Steve’s fingers dug into Tony’s cheap couch at his flippant tone. Tony always thought he couldn’t dirty talk, always doubted Steve’s willingness to be open about sex. Steve was always happy to prove his assumptions wrong.

“Tony, if you don’t fuck me with your Iron Man armor in the next half-second, I’m taking my erection up three floors where I know you’ve got a stash of vibrators in your dresser drawer.”

“Well we can’t have that …” Tony mumbled, tone light with laughter.

The armor hummed again, same as it had earlier. This time Steve realized what it was, as fresh wetness spilled between his cheeks and over his gaping hole: the Mark Sixty-Nine’s armor had a lubricating feature. That was Tony for you: always had a plan ready for six steps ahead.

Finally the armor pressed against his hole with intent, and Steve sucked a breath in and held it. As the armor’s blunt, unyielding finger pushed inside him, Steve let out the breath between his teeth, grunting with every inch.

“Holy shit, Steve-” Tony mumbled, mostly to himself. Steve twitched as the armor’s free hand left his waist, only to settle back down on the skin of his ass. It tugged at his left cheek, pulling it open as the other hand carefully fucked the single finger in and out of Steve.

Steve’s hands clenched and unclenched on the couch, panting growing louder by the second. The finger inside him was thicker than he was used to, harder, and obviously mechanical. But it was no less articulate than Tony’s fingers, no less capable of fine motor movements. It rubbed against his inside walls, little tip of it crooking and then straightening as it fucked in and out. Steve’s entire body shivered with sensation.

“You look amazing like this,” Tony commented breathlessly.

“It feels amazing,” Steve told him back. “But could you… more?”

“You want more already? My horny little slut.”

Steve scoffed at the language. “I'm surprised the irony of you saying that didn't cause you to spontaneously combust,” he pointed out. Then he groaned as the Iron Man pushed another metal finger inside him, joining the first. The two fingers pumped in and out of him mercilessly, mechanically.

“I can't believe you're still capable of saying a sentence that complicated,” Tony shot back. A calculated edge crept into his tone, making Steve shiver in anticipation. “Obviously this means I'll have to dig a little deeper into my bag of tricks...”

Steve's body jolted as the vibrations started in his ass, stimulating the already sensitive nerves to new heights of arousal. Steve humped back against them hips rolling in smooth motions as he tried to maximize his own pleasure. Tony hummed his approval.

“That's right, Steve. Fuck yourself on my armor. Milk your prostate with my metal fingers, there you go, yeah.”

Steve adjusted his grip on the couch, shoulders flexing as he braced himself. Then he shot a glance over his shoulder and snipped: “Are you just going to let me do all the work, like usual? I thought maybe with the armor I'd finally get what I need, but if it's just going to sit there like a million-dollar dildo...”

Tony's grin was wicked and enthusiastic, so pleased with Steve's demands. “Billion-dollar, babe. With a 'b'.”

Steve fucked himself harder back onto the armor's fingers, keeping eye contact with Tony as he did. “Billion dollar dildo,” he corrected himself.

“You're going to regret you ever said anything, Rogers,” Tony warned him, grinning sharp. He was doing something with his headset controls, micro expressions setting... something up. Steve was eager to find out what.

“Make me,” Steve dared him.

That was apparently the exact right thing to say. It must have been what Tony was waiting for, because his body stilled, hands stopping their movements in the gloves. The armor stopped with him, perfectly in sync. Steve held his breath.

That breath got knocked out of him in the next second by the armor, fingers already inside him pistoning with the sort of perfectly calculated forced and speed that no human could match. Steve's head fell off his shoulder and between his arms as he gasped, then moaned. The vibrations of the fingers hadn't stopped, but rather increased with the sudden change in erotic intent. Steve's body was rocked by the armor's hand, fucking him hard and jarring. The couch creaked as he held on.

“Is that what you wanted?” Tony asked him. Steve heard a soft smack that he couldn't identify. He braced himself long enough to get a glimpse under his own body, and the armor's, back at what Tony was doing. He'd removed the control gloves and tossed them on the ground, apparently, because his pants were undone and one hand was inside of them, shoved inside and stroking.

More," Steve insisted. He pushed his ass back just in case the word wasn’t enough.

Tony’s eyes met his, mouth dropped open in lust. “You want more? Shit, of course you want more, don’t you? You fucking perfect asshole-”

“Speaking of assholes…” Steve cut him off. Tony laughed and did some micro-expression gesture. The armor abruptly pulled back… only to push forward again, this time with not even three, but four fingers. It didn’t give him time to adjust, just started pounding into him again at that same brutal pace as before. Steve groaned and strained forward, tendons in his neck taut with pleasure, with the strain of not giving into it just yet.

“That ‘more’ enough for you, big boy?” Tony asked him.

“For now,” Steve managed to pant out. Because if there was one thing he learned from Tony, one way Tony had rubbed off on him and not vice versa, it was that Steve found himself constantly craving more in this bright and shining future. More food, more books, more information. More Tony. More sex with Tony. More of anything and everything Tony could give him.

“Can you… over here…” Steve panted out. Because out of all the things he wanted more of, Tony’s lips, Tony’s kiss were top of that list. The armor holding him tight and viciously fucking his ass until his cock felt like it was going to explode at the slightest stimulation, well, sure, that was great and all. But it wasn’t perfect: not without Tony’s touch.

Tony figured out what Steve was asking for without him having to fully ask it, thank goodness, because he scrambled over to drape himself over Steve’s back. Steve groaned at the sensation, still being pounded hard in the ass by the Mark Sixty-Nine, one hand of the armor holding his hips tight in place in its unbreakable grip. And now with Tony covering his back, sliding over his shoulder, kissing his lips. A deep groan, high enough in pitch that it was almost a cry, escaped Steve’s lips at how completely surrounded he was, how Tony had enveloped his entire being. In Tony’s lab, on Tony’s couch, Tony’s tech fucking him from behind, Tony’s neatly-trimmed whiskers tickling at the corners of his mouth. Steve whimpered.

“You gonna come for me? My armor too much for you?”

“Yes,” Steve gritted out. And then, because he was a punk and wouldn’t let Tony have the satisfaction, he managed to grunt: “and no.”

Tony laughed into his mouth, one hand still working between his legs, picking up the pace now as Steve got closer to the edge. His other hand stroked along Steve’s back, rubbing away the sweat that was forming there, on his neck, between his shoulder blades. “No, huh? I can turn up the vibrations, you know. Pick up the speed. I haven’t nearly maxed it out yet.”

Without another word from Tony the armor did just that, vibrations soaring up in intensity, pistoning fingers fucking into Steve harder and faster than before. Steve cried out sharply, body shaking with the strain of holding back, wanting to ride out the pleasure for just a little longer…

He came like a rocket, embarrassingly abundant amount of semen splattering all over Tony’s couch. He grabbed out with one shaking hand at Tony’s shirt, pulling him in for a bruising kiss. “Keep it going,” he grunted urgently into Tony’s mouth. “Keep it going, I can-”

“Going for two?” Tony panted. “We can do two. Good thing about fucking you with the armor, it can keep going long after I can.”

Steve moaned, not really listening to Tony, not really able to focus on anything beside the pleasure he was receiving, on the way his cock was twitching feebly, erection not yet diminished, even after its impressive release. Sweat beaded at Steve’s hairline, dripping into his eyes, down his nose. Moisture of maybe another sort pricked at his eyes, but Tony was right there, kissing away all the salty droplets from Steve’s cheeks. He pulled back after a moment, breathing heavily.

“Gonna come, Steve, you-”

Without even thinking, without Tony even having to say it, Steve opened his mouth like the nice guy he was. Tony grunted harshly as he jerked his penis in his fist, needing only to stroke it a few more times before the viscous fluid was spilling from it, over his fingers, onto Steve’s face, into his mouth. Steve lapped at Tony’s come, his own erection twitching hard at the taste of his boyfriend on his tongue. He squeezed his eyes shut, breaths coming harder as he got closer to the edge.

Tony leaned in to kiss the last of his come off Steve’s face, lapping at it before returning to kiss Steve’s mouth, letting him have a taste of it. Steve moaned and shivered, arms shaking, legs shaking, whole body trembling through the vibrations of the armor, jerking spasmodically with the punishing rhythm of the machine.

“You need it to stop?”

Steve shook his head. “No! No! Please, Tony. I’m…” Steve’s voice cut out with a cry as the armor’s four fingers continued to pound into him, splitting him open perfectly.

“You almost there? Again?” Tony’s hand stroked over Steve’s back, a relatively steady anchor amidst the storm of pleasure that was Steve’s world.

“Almost, Tony… can’t…” Steve’s erection throbbed, his arousal built and built inside of him, but he just couldn’t get there, he wasn’t there, he needed to come again but he couldn't...

“I got you,” Tony murmured in his ear. Before Steve knew what was happening, the armor shifted slightly. The hand was still in his ass, four fingers pounding him without end, but the hand on his hip had released him. It was when cold metal fingers wrapped around Steve’s filthy wet erection that Steve realized what command Tony had given.

Tony!” Steve cried out, body straining. The armor stroked over his penis firmly, smooth metal fingers squeezing him with a terrifyingly sure force that no human could replicate. Steve felt his arousal cresting inside of him.

“That’s it, beautiful,” Tony whispered in his ear. “I’ve got you.”

Steve came for the second time with a shout, body wrecked in a way it hadn’t been with the first orgasm. He collapsed to the couch, muscles finally giving out beneath him. The armor stilled inside him, blessedly. One day maybe they’d push Steve to his absolute limits. But for tonight two orgasms was enough.

The armor stepped away, Steve could hear it moving back to its place at the other end of the lab. He was more concerned with tugging Tony down into him, curling up on the couch together even if it was too small for two full-grown men. Steve hummed contentedly as he spooned Tony, burying his face into Tony’s neck.

Tony chuckled against him, body loose and happy with orgasm. “Guess you liked that, big guy?”

Steve hummed contentedly, stretching against Tony, feeling their bodies fitting together. In his post-coital haze it felt like love, laying here like this with Tony. It might not just be the endorphins talking, but Steve had yet worked up the courage to mention it to Tony, even at times like this. Instead, Steve nuzzled at Tony’s neck and commented: “You know, Tony, I got to say I’m-”

“Satiated? Exhausted? Impressed?”

“All those things. But also surprised.”

Steve could feel Tony’s frown through his body, even though Tony was facing away from him. “You’re actually surprised that I had a fucking armor?”

Steve laughed and pressed a kiss to Tony’s neck. “No, I expected as much. I’m surprised it didn’t have a penis.”

There was a pause, which Steve took advantage of by rubbing his hands up and down Tony’s chest, smiling at the firm play of muscles and somewhat softer stomach he felt beneath his fingers. When Tony finally did reply, Steve’s hands stopped cold in their movements: “You don’t think I’d blow all my tricks on the first run, do you? I never said it doesn’t.”