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Tony backed Steve up against the wall, hands already fumbling with the belt buckle to his jeans, which was turning into a task too difficult to handle since making out with Steve was melting all his brain cells that weren't oh god and more.

Steve had a really nice mouth.

"I know we're taking this slow," Tony gasped biting at the swollen pink mess of Steve's mouth. "But I've got to blow you, Cap. Like, please—just, let me suck you off. You'll love it, I fucking promise you that you'll love it. I'm great at it—I've got a mouth like a damn Hoover and I lost my gag reflex long before I became an lush. Come on, babe. Please? You'll—"

"Jesus, Tony," Steve said, pulling back to thump his head against the wall and yes, god, Tony had so much access to the exposed flesh of his neck and—Tony was going to have so many Steve induced fetishes.

"Does cursing mean yes?"

He'd given up trying to under the buckle and was just grabbing at Steve's cock threw the denim. God, he was hot through the fabric and just as big as Tony knew he'd be and yes, blowjobs. They had to happen.

"Because, Cap, I'm dying here. I really, really want you to come in my mouth," Tony begged between nipping kisses that left only fleeting bruises to the so very flushed skin of Steve's neck. "Let me. Come on—"

"If you really want," Steve started but didn't finish, which was completely understandable as Tony was directing Steve's wide palms and seriously gorgeous fingers to grab at Tony's ass.

Tony had a great ass. It wasn't Steve's ass but for someone who wasn't a super-human and just you know, a genius, he had a smoking fine ass.

Anyone would be distracted.

Even CaptainFuckingAmerica.

"I really want," Tony said sucking a splotchy bruise to the side of Steve's neck. "I want to suck your dick," he said, laving at the skin and basically just humping Steve's leg. "Say yes, Steve. Come on, say yes."

"Yes, yes, Tony whatever you want."

And they were kissing again because how could they not, with Steve and that damn mouth with his earnest blush and those absolutely massive palms that were kneading Tony's ass like a batch of dough.

Seriously, those fingers.

Tony was going to sit on those fingers one day.

He really fucking was.

Just, you know, later. Right now, blowjobs.

Tony gave a parting bite to Steve's lower lip, which had moved from dusty pink to downright sinful red and grinned at Steve's dazed expression. He was even breathing a little hard, which was amazing considering Tony had seen him pick up the Hulk the other day and run a city block without any huffing or puffing.

"You're going to like this," Tony said, leaning back into the grind of Steve's hands.

Then he dropped to his knees.

"Fuck," he swore, pressing his face to the very clear outline of Steve's cock. "I'm going to love this."

"Tony—" but Tony tuned him out because right now, priority was getting Steve's undoubtedly really pretty dick out of the confines of his jeans.

It took him way longer than it should have. He was being outsmarted by something invented in 1851 and holy god, Steve's hotness was making Tony simple.

"Tony!" It took a sharp pull on his hair, just when he was finally ready to tackle Steve's underwear, for Tony to look up.

"What's up, Cap?"

God, he was a gorgeous thing.

"Um, thanks," Steve said, impossibly flushing more and oops, apparently Tony said that last bit out loud.

"You're very welcome. Now, I'm not a professional, but I'm like 150% sure blowjobs can't reach their potential when your dick is still in your underwear."

"Yeah, that's—" Steve stopped, panting a little when Tony went back to wrestling his briefs (they weren't star-spangled to Tony's ultimate disappointment). "Tony, would you just—"

Tony paused, the head of Steve's dick, all flushed and uncut and just waiting to be put in Tony's mouth—Christ.

"Please don't change your mind," Tony said a little raggedly. He thumbed the head and watched as pre-come welled up. "I mean, you can because it's your dick but please, Cap, please don't change your mind. I will be the first super-hero to die of blue balls. And that's embarrassing considering I don't think Clint's been laid since 1990."

Steve shook his head, blonde hair a little wild and Tony tracked his hand as it rubbed the back of Steve's neck a little absently. He looked like he was going to say "aw, shucks" at any moment and then Tony was really going to have to get his dick on Steve's mouth, whether he was ready to or not.

"I'm not changing my mind," Steve said. "Just, will you take off your shirt?"

Tony had never been more relieved not to be wearing a suit in his life. His AC/DC shirt (Rock Gods Forgive him) went flying across the room and Tony finally, finally freed Steve's dick just as Steve was thanking him for removing his shirt.

"Believe me when I say that the pleasure is all mine," Tony said, staring at the length of Steve's cock, which admittedly wasn't a monster cock. It was big, don't misunderstand him—it just wasn't colossal. Considering Tony was thinking about Steve's cock like it was a third leg for the past, you know, twenty years, it was only minorly disappointing.

Mostly just mouth-watering.

"Ready big guy?"

Tony didn't really wait for a reply, just groped around with his hands until he could guide Steve into his mouth without having to take his eyes off of Steve's face.

It wasn't like this was Steve's first rodeo.

But it was Steve's first orgasm with Tony Fucking Stark.

"Oh," Steve gasped out and it was definitely a little breathless but the way his mouth formed a perfectly shaped little circle, god, Tony wasn't going to forget that. Or the way Steve's hands went to Tony's hair, like he was surprised at how good it felt to have a wet, hot mouth on his cock.

Tony smirked. Well, not really because his mouth was stuffed full of super-human dick, but he was feeling pretty damn smug about the whole affair.

"Oh, Tony," Steve choked out and that, well, that was enough to kill a man. The way Steve's hips hitched up, an aborted little thrust, when Tony sucked until his cheeks hollowed out and then danced his tongue on the underside—Steve looked like he might have an aneurysm if his eyes got any wider.

Tony popped off, licking the head and tongue-fucking the slit until Steve's hips did the jerking thing again.

"Don't be afraid to tell me what you like," Tony said, pressing messy kisses down the shaft and getting downright slutty with Steve's balls. "Sometimes I need a bit of encouragement."

Lies. But it got Steve to laugh, well, it was more of a giggle to be honest but then Tony was back, taking him back into his mouth and sucking. He kept it pretty shallow, enjoying the taste of Steve's wet head and the way his fingers would press into the sides of Tony's mouth when he was sucking—like Tony was the one who was worth hero worshiping.

Tony shoved a hand down to his own throbbing dick and gave it a quick squeeze. Above him, Steve moaned, a little too loudly and looked absolutely shocked at himself. Tony pulled off again and rubbed his three-day scruff on the underside of Steve's cock until he made that noise again.

"You can be loud," Tony said. "I want to know what you sound like," he flicked his tongue out to lap at Steve's pre-come again.

Steve groaned, "Can you—"

Tony raised his eye brow and reached down to stroke his own cock again. It was so hard to focus when Steve was looking so damn gorgeous—all that carefully controlled strength coiled in the flex of his hips and that truly magnificent ass.

"I can do whatever you want, babe."

Steve rolled his eyes but he was biting his lip, still a little shy and Tony fucking loved it.

"Can you put..." Steve lowered his voice to almost a whisper. "Can you take more in your mouth?"

It seemed as though it physically pained him to ask and Tony found himself moaning, pressing his cheek to Steve's dick again and squeezing his balls.

"I can take all of you," Tony whispered back, his other hand still stroking himself through his trousers.

The gaspy-moan that tore out of Steve's chest when Tony swallowed him down was something that Tony was never, ever going to be able to forget. It was going to be jerk-off material until he died. Hell, if he ever made it to old-age just the sheer thought of that sound was going to get him harder than double doses of Viagra.

He breathed on the upstroke, dragging his tongue and letting Steve ride the pleasure until his hips jerked again and then Tony was back down until his lips were pulled taut at the base of Steve's cock and his nose was buried in coarse blond hair.

"Tony!" This time, when he moaned his hands pulled at Tony's hair, almost jerking Tony's mouth off but Tony abandoned his own cock in favor of getting his hands on that government toned ass. He sunk down, breathing ragged and fuck—his throat was going to be wrecked—but it was worth it, fuckinghell was it worth it feel the way Steve's ass flexed in his hands.

When Tony pulled off this time, Steve was leaking down his cock and thrashing a bit wildly on the wall.

"Give it to me good this time," Tony said, squeezing Steve's ass. "Make me feel it, Steve."

He sank down, feeling Steve hit the back of his throat and he sat there until Steve whined, high and desperate in his throat. His hands flexed in Tony's hair but his hips didn't move. Tony opened his eyes and stared up.

His jaw flexed and he swallowed around Steve's cock, feeling the uncomfortable slide of spit down his chin as he just sat.

"Tony, come on—" Steve stuttered out. "Please, Tony."

Tony raised his eyebrows and moved Steve's hand, one giant palm to the back of his head and the other to the underside of his jaw. He swallowed again, pushing past the discomfort of his jaw and hopefully communicating: fuck my mouth, you hung sonofabitch.

"Oh, oh," Steve moaned, hips flexing and just barely drawing out of Tony's mouth before he came back. The small thrust had him sliding over the flat of Tony's tongue and Tony couldn't help it, he had to get a hand on his dick. He shoved a hand down, squirming until his could get a palm on his dick just before the next thrust, just a little more assertive and forceful and just—fuck, Tony moaned.

"Tony, Jesus you're so," Steve moaned, thrusting a little wildly into Tony's mouth and yes, that's what he wanted. Tony groaned, working his throat harder on the next thrust waiting and wanting. There was no way Steve was going to last much longer, not with the way he kept making those sounds—shocked moans and deep groans that shot straight to Tony's dick.

On the next thrust, Tony gave him a hand, forcefully pulling until Steve slammed into his mouth.

"Sorry, Tony—" But thank Christ, Steve didn't stop, didn't seem to heed his own apology. Instead, he pulled out quick and came thrusting back in with a force that shook Tony to the bone. Steve's grip on his jaw was a vice, holding Tony so completely still—his mouth fucking skewered on Steve's cock with the wide palm on the back of his head and—

"Tony, Tony, ohohoh," Steve moaned, breathless and chest heaving through the watering of Tony's eyes as he went frantic, hips pulling out and then ramming back in until his cock was down the back of Tony's throat.

He couldn't breathe, choking a little on Steve's cock and fucking loving his life as each thrust got quicker and harder. Tony's entire face throbbed from the force of Steve's hips, the power that literally was being stuffed down his throat and the press of those fingers on Tony's jaw, making damn sure that Tony took it.

Tony came in his pants like a fifteen-year-old boy, crying on Steve's cock and moaning like there was nothing better in the entire world than being used as a wet hole for Steve to cram his impressive dick into.

A few more thrusts, each as mind-numbingly brutal as the last, had Steve coming with a quiet gasp of Tony's name and a grind of his hips that had Tony completely and utterly oxygen deprived. When Steve finally pulled out, there was come everywhere. Tony was fairly sure there was come up his nose but he didn't care because he was still coming down from his own orgasm and Steve, beautiful, blushing Steve who looked like sex on legs and acted as virgin as a sixteen year old promise ring-wearing Texan, was dropping to his knees and kissing Tony's gasping mouth.

It was sloppy, like kind of disgustingly sloppy with spit and too much tongue and wayward come because jesusfuck Steve just kept coming like he emptied seventy-years worth of jizz inside Tony's throat. But it didn't matter—hardly even registered—because Steve kept gasping into Tony's mouth, "Tony, god, Tony oh my stars Tony, you" and Tony couldn't do anything but clutch at Steve's shirt and keep kissing him.


Turned out, Steve had absolutely no idea how to share a bed. He slept like he was doing his very best imitation of a star-fish, sprawled out like he could touch all four corners of Tony's California King bed—which he could because he was freakishly tall and all those limbs went on for days—and Tony was left being oppressed by Steve's octopus arm.

Tony spent about five minutes staring at the way Steve's skin glowed, pressed up so tightly against Tony's reactor until he realized how pathetic that kind of was and yeah, he had to take a piss.

"Wherrra 'oin?" came Steve's muffed voice, his pretty face all smashed into Tony's pillow and Tony did not find that adorable.

"Need to pee, Captain My Captain," he mocked and struggled out from under the dead-weight of Steve's arm and knee. Steve didn't help, in fact, Tony was fairly sure the dopey smile Steve had going on meant that he was deliberately trying to make Tony piss himself.

Kinky bitch.

It was only after Tony relieved his bladder and was washing his hands that he noticed his face.

"Jarvis, lights to 100%."

And the five perfect, genetically altered finger prints bruised into his skin.

"Holy fuck," Tony said, leaning over the still running tap to run his fingers over the underneath of his jaw. There was a purple bruise that could only be from Steve's thumb on Tony's cheek but his jaw had four other finger-shaped marks.

In hindsight, Tony should probably be happy that Steve didn't break his jaw.

"That is so fucking hot," he said, staring at his reflection and running his fingers over the marks. It's not like they're raised or anything but—Tony can't stop staring.

"I hurt you."

Tony blinked and looked away from his blotted jawline to find Steve looming in the doorway, his face twisted up in disgust and Tony could just see how this was going to pan out and it ended up with Tony getting blue balls and dying because Steve was too consumed with guilt to ever touch him again.

"Tony, I am so sorry," Steve's eyes were huge and sorrowful and just, Tony hated it because beautiful men like Steve should never, never look that miserable when naked and around Tony. It was unjust. It was probably a federal offense. Fury was going to mark it down in Tony's file and Natasha was going to beat him up for bullying the hot guy with a heart of fucking gold.

"Steve, don't—"

"I hurt you," Steve repeated and yep, he sounded like he was never, ever going to recover from such an unspeakable tragedy. Goddamit.

"You didn't," Tony said firmly.

"I did! Look at your jaw, Tony! I could have broken your bones," Steve said, stricken. "I could have broken your face, Tony. Oh my—"

Tony shook his head. "Stop it right now, Steve Rogers or I swear on your Star-Spangled Suit that I will find a way to refreeze your perfectly shaped ass right back to the Capsicle they found you in."


He looked away, the blush on his cheeks wasn't the flush of Tony's teasing or after a casual 26 mile run or even the flush of arousal that Tony had just discovered and was hoping it was going to be his favorite, which was amazing because Tony thought he might never get over how much fun it was to get Steve to blush from embarrassment.

Yeah, so Tony was a bit of a bully. Whatever.

"Look at me," Tony said, low and firm. "Look at me, Steve."

His blue eyes were so sad—just, so fucking sad—like, accidentally-decapitated-a-whole-litter-of-kittens-with-my-fancy-American-shield sad.

"You didn't break me, Steve. I'm not broken," Tony said. "And you certainly didn't give me anything I didn't want. More to the? point, I fucking like it, okay?"

Steve frowned. "I hurt you."

"Would you stop saying that!"

"But I did!"

Steve looked like he was ready to fight but Tony just slammed his hand down on the counter and turned off the tap with as much anger as he could muster.

"Come here," he said.

Steve stared.

Tony raised his eyebrows. "Don't mess with me, Cap. You may be the brawn of this operation but I am much smarter than you so would you please, get your ass over here."

Steve crossed the bathroom like he was approaching a startled deer.

"Stop looking at me like that," Tony snapped, reaching back to yank the reluctant man until he was flush to Tony's back.

Then he took Steve's hand and put it on his half-hard cock, which admittedly got a bit soft with all the miserable eyes that Steve was making but was regaining interest now that Steve was all naked and muscly and pressed up against Tony's back like he was going to bend him over the counter and fuck him.

That was a thought.

But Tony was getting ahead of himself.

"I liked it," Tony said. "I liked it when you fucked my mouth, Steve. I asked you to."

Steve bit his lip and Tony could tell that he was torn from being turned on by Tony's filling cock against the palm of his hand but still hung up on the bruises.

"Steve, I'm a little fucked up, I'll be the first to admit that I've got a host of issues that out-run my achievements by a mile," Tony said with a smirk. "But I'm not ashamed of the fact that it makes me hot to see that you've left bruises on me—because you want me that much and I make you crazy enough to lose control. That's—Steve, that's so hot and not even fucked up in the slightest. I'm not even saying that just to get some, I mean, that's why we're having this conversation but right, see, let me back up: what we do together is hot and not fucked up and I want you to touch me all the damn time. If physically possible, I'd attach you to my dick but Dummy would get jealous and obviously, so would Fury. He has a soft spot for me."

Tony stared him down in the mirror, biting his lip to keep the rambling at bay, before Steve tucked his head into the dip of Tony's neck. He didn't let go of Tony's hard cock though and Tony was sure that the hardness that was pressing into his lower back was Steve's answering erection.

"I don't like hurting you," Steve said, lowly.

Tony shrugged. "It's gonna happen sometimes, Steve. You've got super-human strength and I'm not going to give up sleeping with you because it might get a little rough sometimes. Hell, Steve, I like it rough."

"I don't have to like it," he grumbled, but the edge was taken off by the fact that he was kind of lazily kissing Tony's neck now.

"We'll work on it, okay?"

Steve didn't respond, just kept trailing lazy, kisses that were so fucking apologetic that it was threatening to make his dick soft and that was crazy because Tony's dick was being held by Captain American's massive hands.

"Want to make it up to me, Cap?"

"Anything," Steve said, a little too earnestly for Tony's taste.

Tony shook his head, leaning forward to get a tube of lube from the counter. He uncapped it and squirted a few shots into Steve's right hand and reattaching it to Tony's dick.

"You can get me off," Tony said, already breathing a little heavily. "Come here, closer. Better, but closer still."

Tony worked Steve until he was hunched over Tony's form, curving over Tony's back until he was completely covering Tony with his imposing frame.

"I like this," Tony said quietly, as Steve had retreated to kissing Tony's neck again. It was entirely possible that he wasn't the only one with a neck fetish. "I like that you're bigger and stronger than me, Cap. All that American made muscle," he gasped around the joke when Steve twisted his wrist around Tony's cock.

"Tony," Steve said but he didn't seem to have anything to say other than that and Tony concentrated on the feel, of Steve pressed up behind him—big and warm and hard—cock grinding into Tony's lower back, smearing pre-come as he jacked Tony off with his glorious hand.

"I love when you leave marks on me," Tony said a bit raggedly, "like the way it feels when you hold me down—think about how it'll feel when you fuck me, bend me over and give me the dicking of my life, Steve—I swear to fucking god, yeah hell yes," he braced himself on the counter and thrust up into Steve's tightening fist.

Fuck, that was good.

"Like seeing where you used me," he rasped out. "I'll like bruises anywhere you'll put them, Cap. On my knees, on my jaw—fuck yeah, and soon, yeah, on my hips."

Steve moaned, hips starting to rock.

"Yeah, like that, don't you? See, rough can be good sometimes, Steve. It's gonna be so good when you fuck me, your huge damn hands on my hips, fucking me so hard that you'll have to hold me down on your cock, leave bruises all over my skin, my thighs—" fuck, Steve's hand seemed to go tighter, squeezing too rough and good and yeah, Tony was going to come.

"Tony, oh," it was the same shuttered sound, and then Steve was latching onto Tony's neck and sucking, jacking Tony off at a ruthless pace and humping into his lower back like Tony was his mattress and Steve was waking from a wet dream.

Then again, Tony's entire life was a wet dream now that Steve Rogers was around.

Steve groaned, teething the skin he'd just sucked until Tony was moaning, so fucking close to blowing his load all over Steve's greedy hands, when Steve came all over Tony's back.

Just up and money-shotted from rubbing off on Tony's back and some half-ass dirty talk.

"Sorrysorry, I just—Tony," Steve pleaded, hips still jerking and Tony could feel the come: sticky and all over his bare skin.

"Fuckfuckfuck, you fucking filthy—" then Tony was coming, back bowing and practically seizing up in Steve's arms as he came in a few long spurts, all over Steve's thick fingers and the bathroom counter.

When Tony blinked his eyes open, Steve was blushing again with one arm tucked up and over Tony's chest, lying over the glow of the arc reactor, while the other fondled Tony's balls and generally got Tony's come everywhere. Steve was also nosing a new mark on Tony's jaw, roughly the size of Cap's entire mouth that was turning a purple color. Jesus, were they teenagers? What was next, they were going to make out in the back-seat of a car and go to the damn prom? The last time Tony had a love-bite that tactless he still had his v-card.

Tony could feel jizz dripping down his ass-cheek.

"See, Cap? You are a kinky mother fucker," Tony said, cheerfully, bringing a hand up to pat Steve's hand which was practically blotting out the glow of his chest.

Yeah, Tony was totally getting a hand fetish. Could anyone blame him? Those were some capable damn hands. Those hands were wide and smooth and a little rough from sparring and that shield but they felt really fucking good on Tony's skin and those fingers, wow, they were so long and thick and Tony wanted to suck on them. He would bet that if he sucked on Steve's fingers, he could probably get it up again and then just the mere thought of putting those fingers inside of him had his dick twitching.

And for the record, Tony wasn't that much of a slutty bottom. He liked being reamed just as much as the next guy but there was something about Steve Roger's fingers that was doing his head in.

Oh god, fisting.

"Sir," Jarvis' voice came alive. "I hate to interrupt you and Master Rogers' post-coital cuddle—"

Tony rolled his eyes and snorted, "I don't cuddle!"

How was it that Jarvis was totally able to sound like he took great pleasure in inconveniencing his creator in getting some? Oh right, because Tony was a genius.

"—as I understand that Master Rogers considers this time after romantic coupling to be essential to fostering a solid relationship—"

Tony could actually feel Steve blush. In the mirror, Steve was turning the color of a very bright tomato. Tony would put money that even Steve's toes were blushing. Interestingly enough, the sex flush and the embarrassment flush combination was kind of getting Tony's rocks off.

"However, it has come to my attention that there is contraband in the house."

Steve looked up from where he was hiding his red face in Tony's neck, looking vaguely alarmed but still sort of blissed out. Tony was only distracted for a moment in thinking that yeah, he made CaptainFuckingAmerica looked dazed and fucked out.

"What did Clint do now?"

Jarvis paused. "Master Barton is not the problem, sir. It appears that Master Thor has attained Strawberry Poptarts—"

"Oh shit," Tony said but Steve was already in the bedroom, pulling on clothes and rushing out to the kitchen. Tony turned around and tried to find a robe.

"Sir, may I suggest a turtleneck as appropriate attire?"

Tony wiggled into some briefs that were definitely not his. "It's like 80 degrees outside, Jarvis. And I know you know that."

"I was merely suggesting a wardrobe selection that might hide Master Rogers' sign of affection, as it might appear to Master Thor that you are now impregnated with Master Rogers' love child. As that is a typical marking of Master Thor's people to signal that blessings of fertility would be appreciated."

Tony paused.

"Jarvis, are you fucking with me?"

"No sir, I am attempting to be informative—"

"Oh yeah, because you're a wealth of knowledge right now—"

"However, it is imperative to inform you that I need to notify the fire department as the kitchen is now in flames."