And Tony looked, but that was about all he had time to do. It was an iron girder, ironically, that was heading straight for him, carrying a good chunk of the building with it.
They would attack at the one business meeting that promised to be so boring he didn’t bother bringing the suit, wouldn’t they?
As it was, he was in a dark blue suit, Armani, not of his own design and not reinforced with a titanium alloy.
It was lucky Captain America had been passing by - not just Steve Rogers, but full-on Cap-in-costume, battle-ready and patriotically pissed as only Steve could so stoically be.
It was a bit unlucky that by the time he’d shouted a warning, it was too late for Tony to move.
Suddenly Tony felt the floor almost force its way through his back as he landed on it, and the force of the girder - his lungs seemed to vanish, and he thought this is it; but then he opened his eyes, and after a few moments and a very pained noise, he could breathe again, and see again - or at least, he could if it weren't for the clouds of yellow-white dust.
That’s when he realized Steve was lying on top of him, wincing, arms braced either side of Tony’s waist, breathing hard, with something like half a building on his back.
Tony let his eyes roll back and close as he struggled for air. “Boy,” he managed, “Am I glad for your reflexes.”
“Yep,” Steve said, sounding winded - which was a first, as far as Tony was aware.
His chest was right against Tony’s, and felt about a mile wide; he was so close, Tony could see the sweat on his neck. “Uh, you got this?”
“Yeah,” Steve breathed. “Yeah. I got this…”
He gave a strained grunt, tilting his head back and gritting his teeth, before blowing out his breath. “Nope. I don’t got this.” He shook his head, blew out another breath and tried again.
Tony, who was virtually a human starfish at this point, just sort of looked at the lack-of-a-ceiling, feeling about as useful as a single beech leaf. “Uh, any luck?”
“I can hold it,” Steve said. His breathing was a little straighter, now. “But I don’t think I can shift it.” He shook his head hard. “Its weight’s not on me. It’s propped up on that pile over there. But I can’t…I just can’t seem to budge an inch,” he said, and Tony could well believe that - Steve’s thigh was right between his legs and they felt utterly pinned into place.
“Well,” Tony said. Steve was looking down at the ground; he could almost count his eyelashes. Was that a weird thought? He’d have to ask JARVIS later. “No sweat. The Hulk’ll swing by soon enough. He’ll get it off in seconds.”
“Yeah,” Steve said quietly, in the sort of absent tone that suggested he would have said “Yeah” to “I’ll just turn into a ferret and squirm away; it’s all good.”
Tony cleared his throat, eyes flicking between Steve and the bright blue patch of sky that took up most of what used to be the roof. “Well, thanks for saving my life, and all that.”
“Hey,” Steve said, “Don’t mention it.” He stared at a patch of rubble by Tony’s arm.
Tony tilted his head, watching Steve refuse to meet his eye. “Anyway, he should find us any minute,” he continued.
Steve nodded, frowned, cleared his throat lightly. “Yeah.” He licked his lips and cleared his throat again. “Excuse me.”
“What?” Tony huffed a soft laugh through his nose. “Are you apologizing for lying on top of me? Because I’d be pretty dead if you weren’t. Believe me, I couldn’t be more happy that you’re lying on top of me right now.”
“Er,” Steve said, “Shit.”
Tony tilted his head again. “…Are you kidding me? Since when did you curse?”
Steve closed his eyes tight and bowed his head towards his chest. His cheeks were pink - another thing that just might have been a first - and growing steadily darker.
Tony shook his head in disbelief, an odd sense of panic fluttering in his stomach. “Cap?”
Steve exhaled miserably through his nose, and that was when a third first emerged. Tony couldn’t say from experience, but that felt a hell of a lot like an erection pressed against his thigh - whatever it was, it wasn’t small.
“Uh.” Tony panicked, rifling through a mental list of smooth ways to react in a ‘situation’. “You brought a gun?”
Steve snorted softly. “Would you believe me if I said yes?” he muttered.
Tony couldn’t help smiling; now that was not a smooth way for him to react.
“I’m really sorry,” Steve said quickly, frowning deeply and biting his lip, still turned away.
“What? Hey,” Tony said. “Don’t worry about it. Shit happens, right? This is probably just the serum or something. Keeps you young, you lucky bastard. No, no worries. It’s nothing.”
“Yeah,” Steve said softly. “…Well, no. Actually. Not exactly. Not exactly nothing.”
Tony tilted his head. Not the most imaginative response, but his movement was somewhat limited to the neck up. He licked his dry lips and tried not to wonder what exactly Cap had just said. “Can you…move? At all?”
Steve shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said again, like he’d run over Tony’s cat or something.
“Jeez, Cap,” Tony said. “It’s not the end of the world. It’s just a boner.”
Steve winced at that, then gasped. Jesus, he felt big. If Tony had to guess, he’d say at least eight inches - not that he was guessing, or even thinking about this at all. All he knew was that his left leg was a little more crushed than the rest of him - and it was the inside of his thigh. The angle was decidedly left.
Hell of an elephant in the room, though, and with a hell of a trunk.
Tony looked up at the sky, trying to think of a way to change the subject. He could feel the heat of it, the heat of Steve all over, his shoulders over Tony’s shoulders. He could feel him straining against him, and he could smell the slight musk of his arousal and sheer proximity. If he turned, they’d be almost nose-to-nose.
“It’s not nothing, though,” Steve said suddenly, chest moving against Tony’s as he spoke. “It’s not - it’s not just some random thing. It.”
Tony glanced at him.
He tried to think of an alternate explanation for what it sounded like Steve was trying to say. Either way, his mind threatened to flee his body at the prospect. “What - are you saying…”
Steve just sighed softly.
“…Are you saying that…”
“That I think you’re attractive?” Steve asked bluntly.
Tony raised his eyebrows. “Well.”
“With all due respect,” Steve said, in a tone far too cocky for someone in his position, “You are attractive.”
The ‘dumbass’ was implied.
“Well,” Tony said, again. “Thanks. I’m flattered. And, uh, flattened.”
Steve finally looked at him. His cheeks were a little ruddy - almost as dark as his lips. They always looked so swollen. His eyes were dark, too, pupils wide and glossy beneath those thick lashes.
He dipped down the couple inches between them and kissed Tony gently on the lips.
Tony felt himself blinking. Aside from the strange weight all over him - and that was already fading from his consciousness - all he could feel was Steve’s lips and his…and all he could think was that god, his lips were soft. How did he get his lips that soft?
Steve pulled back and breathed in quick. “I’m sorry.”
Tony frowned internally. He just didn’t have the facilities to deal with today. “Uh…Cap. Look, I…”
“I know,” Steve interrupted softly, with a pained note in his voice. “I’m sorry, it’s just…it’s just you always look so good, and I…no. I’m sorry.”
Tony was pretty sure he’d turned bright red, and now he was the one not making eye contact. He wasn’t expecting to encounter two situations he couldn’t handle in one day, and besides, Captain America was right there giving him a pretty big compliment on his looks. Aside from the one digging into his leg.
“I mean, you look so good,” Steve continued. Oh no. Was he starting to ramble? “I mean, you just look sort of…raw, all the time, sort of rough around the edges, and it…”
Well, now he was using the sort of voice Tony normally only heard from someone who was in his bed.
“And it’s sexy,” Steve whispered, like he was confessing his darkest secret, and a whole new wave of blood punched its way into Tony’s face.
He laughed gently in a very abnormal way. “Well. Didn’t know that word was in your vocabulary, Cap. And I didn’t know you swung that way, either.”
“Not usually,” Steve said, quietly. “But what can I say.”
And they didn’t - say anything, that is - for a few moments.
Tony wasn’t sure if it was being squashed up so close to someone sweaty, or the way Steve had whispered to him - he wasn’t even saying anything dirty, but - well, whatever. Whatever it was, there was no denying the blood rushing down south.
“Can I kiss you again?” Steve said, so quietly Tony almost didn’t hear him.
Tony laughed quietly. “Well,” he said. “Uh. I guess if it’s that or twenty questions…”
Steve touched his lips gently to Tony’s where he’d turned his head away - then he moved his own head, slowly, not breaking that lightest of contact; guiding him with his lips until Tony’s head was straight up facing the ceiling again - and Tony just followed him there.
Then he dipped in closer, mashing their lips together, cock hot and hard between them, somehow making this an amazing kiss while almost completely immobilized.
He ducked his head slightly and bit at Tony’s lower lip, worrying at it with the occasional tug.
Tony’s thoughts fizzled out. “Uh,” he said, insofar as he could with his lip between Steve’s teeth. “Wow. Okay.”
“Is it?” Steve asked. He tugged Tony’s lip, then brushed it with his own, then tugged, then brushed, over and over, and when it was tingling and tender he captured it between his lips and licked it thoroughly wet.
Tony didn’t exactly groan - it was just that his diaphragm was exhausted from him holding his breath, staring down at Steve while he did his work, and it had to falter a little.
Steve kissed him full on the lips again, cushiony-chaste, then kept on working Tony’s mouth loose and open, just like any other hole, before he slipped his tongue inside.
Tony shivered like this was a hell of a lot more than just a fucking kiss.
He wasn’t even sure he’d agreed to it, but hey - beech leaf, starfish, pinned and pliant minion. Sure, you tell yourself that. You’re not even remotely enjoying this startlingly hot kiss.
Steve pulled back gently, eyes closed, and Tony was…overwhelmed was one way of putting it. Speechless, that was probably the word.
“I just,” Steve said against his cheek softly. “I just. Wondered. If maybe you’d ever thought. Or considered. Or, you know, if you’d be willing to try. Even if you thought you’d have to be drunk to try it, just - if you thought you could try, to…”
“I,” Tony said. “I, I, I hadn’t thought, really, I don’t think, I…”
Steve kissed him so slowly. Or maybe time just slowed down. “Do you think,” he said eventually, at the end of it, voice kiss-thick, “Do you think, though? That…that there’s even the slightest possibility that we could…that you could try to…even if it’s only once, just to try, just to…”
“Well,” Tony said, though his dick seemed to have cast his vote for him. He stared straight into the air. “I mean…what can I say? I am…I am open-minded, and I…” Steve’s lips nuzzled against the hair on his jawline, almost making him lose track of what he was saying. “Well, I guess, maybe, that it only makes sense to - to try anything once, but…”
“Mm,” Steve hummed, right into his mouth.
Tony thought he could hear a bit of the old asthmatic Steve Rogers in there, in the rhythm of his breath, and he didn’t even hold back; he kissed like they were gonna fuck.
And he kissed hard. And he kissed good. It was like he was freaking fluent in kissing. The things his tongue was doing, it was like he was saying, “Yeah, like that?” and “You like that?” and “Feels good, doesn’t it, Tony?” and “You needed this. I can tell how much you needed this.”
And sometimes he came up for air, just for a second, and he murmured those things out loud, like “You taste so good,” and “I’ve wanted you so bad, Tony…”
And it was seamless, the kisses and the words, melting together like a translator was blinking on and off, like he was diving in and out of the water, front crawl, hardly realizing which language he was speaking.
Tony’s cock was unbelievably and obtrusively fucking hard.
So, Tony wasn’t exactly sure if an experience could turn you gay. He would have thought he’d notice if he liked men, being the age he was. Well, sure, he’d thought about it - and maybe he’d spent longer looking at Steve’s ass than the average person, but - well, no. Everyone checked out Steve’s ass. It would almost be suspicious not to. So what exactly was this?
“I’m sorry,” Steve said, again, breaking away, again, looking shocked at himself. Like he hadn’t noticed Tony’s massive fucking erection throbbing against his stomach like it was trying to type out the Morse code for “let’s fuck”? “I…I got a little…carried away there…”
Tony tried not to tell him he was a moron. “Don’t give a shit,” he managed breathlessly. “Just so long as you’re carrying me with you. Also: wow. Where’d you learn to kiss?”
Steve’s ears turned red. He lowered his eyes and smiled. Now, there was a challenge for later.
He started to kiss Tony gently again, but Tony turned away a fraction to speak. “You ever…” he began, words getting muddled. “You ever, uh…think about me?”
Steve nodded, open lips still touching Tony’s gently. God, that was hot. That was sinfully hot.
Tony tilted his head back gently to rock him into another kiss, because he couldn’t stand Steve breathing hard into his mouth for another second. And his body was screaming hot. He couldn’t help it: he was almost thinking about taking off his shirt, and then Steve’s, and…
Steve pulled back, barely, and moaned, “Tony…”
Tony’s cock throbbed, totally trapped, pointing up and lying flush against him. Totally, completely trapped, and pumping clear slick into his pants in protest. He could feel it welling, drooling over his head, and collecting on his stomach.
Steve didn’t give him long before going back to being totally hungry for his tongue.
Next time Tony knew he was conscious, he could hear Steve moaning, hips rocking almost imperceptibly, while he muttered softly in French between kisses, voice rich with frustration. “Oh, je veux…je veux que tu…”
“Yeah?” Tony said breathlessly. “Tell me what you want. I…I can give you what you want.”
Wow. Anthony Stark, just where did that come from.
“I want you,” Steve said. “I want you to…um. Well.”
“Yeah?” Tony pressed.
“Uh, yeah,” Steve said, like he was getting there, “…Inside me.”
Tony’s cock tried to jump between them, as though somehow it could get inside him from here. “Uh, yeah,” he echoed. “Yeah, I could do that. I - I could definitely give that a try…”
Steve whined breathlessly. He was shaking - no, shuddering, by now. The shockwaves started to build; build in amplitude and frequency until they were taking over his whole body.
“Steve?” Tony breathed. “You - you holding up alright?”
“The girders?” He asked shakily. “Sure. But…oh…”
And Tony knew that sound.
There were tears in Steve’s eyes as his breaths turned into double-barrelled gasps, then little moans that rocked back and forth in his throat like the stiff squeak of a seesaw. “Oh my god, Tony…”
Then everything came out at once - wheezes, gasps, moans, grunts, expletives. Tony stared at Steve’s face as his hips snapped back and forth with what little they could, squirming against him; sweat had collected on his upper lip and ran one quick track down his neck. His nostrils flared and contracted, those kiss-red lips almost fuchsia, almost burgundy, bending so pretty around the loose moans; his eyes had gone loose in his head, too, and his eyelids with them, fluttering up and down as his eyes rolled detachedly, and his dick twitched against Tony until he felt the damp - then he moaned “Oh, God,” so…so hard that Tony was almost on the edge of coming himself just from hearing it.
His head hit Tony’s shoulder and he groaned into it hard, shaking with the pleasure of the aftershocks.
Tony was fairly sure his face looked like a plasticine model with its eyebrows dragged up to the hair with one thumb. “Christ, Steve,” he whispered. He was barely aware of the words escaping him.
Steve moaned and nodded, breathing in the thin, burgundy cotton of Tony’s shirt, in all likelihood getting it totally, totally wet and ruined; and good.
Tony’s eyes rolled closed. His body begged him for release; he tried to tell it it wasn’t possible to reach down a hand and try to pull his cock clean off his body - if it were, that’s exactly what he’d be doing.
There was a sound.
Tony groaned. Actually, if he had a hand free, he’d use it to flip off that sound.
“Do you hear that?” Steve mumbled into his shirt. He lifted his head, looking thoroughly fucked. Was there any way they could pass that off as having had half a building collapse on him? No?
Tony finally tore his eyes away from Steve’s face when the Hulk appeared behind it. “Oh, hey,” he said. God, and he sounded just about as high as a kite, don’t you start now…”Heyyyy, Bruce…”
He did lift it in seconds. Made it look easy, damn him. Whatever - he had those arms, and he had the right angle, and…
They were aching and stiff - or at least, Tony was - as they untangled themselves. There was just about enough dust on the lower half of Steve’s body to camouflage the wet patch, but Tony had to shoot him a look that he hoped read “Could you please try to look a little less post-coitally blissful?”
And now Tony was left with wood that he could do absolutely nothing about.
He turned around to clear his throat, pat his suit down for dust (read: fight a losing battle), and untuck his shirt. “Whoo,” he breathed. “So now I’m grateful for two people saving my life in one day. I’m not stepping outside without Iron Man for a while now, that’s for sure.”
Bruce tossed down the briefcase with Tony’s suit inside it.
Tony turned and smiled weakly. “Well,” he said, shakily. “Better late than never, I guess. Thanks.”
“I’ll go with Bruce,” Steve said. His face was experiencing a few seconds of lag. “Yeah. I’ll…I’ll see you back at the - um, the tower.”
“Yeah,” Tony said back. “That thing.”
He let the suit snap around him and hoped the Hulk was secretly really stupid. At least for today, anyway.
He was hard the whole way back, and nearly drifted into the side of a building thinking of the way Steve bit his lips.
Honestly. He was going to have to have a good, long think about all of this. A long, hard, rough, quick, think. A lotion-fuelled think. Or five.