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"There's something you should know about me," Tony declares, just when Steve is about to suggest that they relocate to his bedroom. Something has been building between them for months, and though Steve didn't expect it to come to a head in the form of a rather aggressive, passionate round of kissing, he's not opposed. Better than throwing up punches, anyway. But now, as they stand face to face in the living room of the Tower’s remodeled penthouse, Tony flexes his fingers and then his whole demeanor changes.
His head cocks to the side, an almost reptilian movement, and he licks his lips as his eyes slide quickly up Steve's body. The blatant perusal makes Steve feel like a juicy cut of steak, and then Tony blinks as he lifts his head, leading with his chin. It somehow lends an effect of looking down on Steve, even though he’s shorter. "I'm not exactly human."
Tony’s eyes shift after he says it, going almost black but with a thin ring of red. Steve watches it happen and then licks his lips, thinking he should probably be afraid. He isn’t, though, not really. Tony’s mesmerizing.
"Are you... controlling my mind or anything?"
"What?!" Tony laughs. "No, Steve, I'm not controlling your mind." And then he winks. "If I'm ever controlling your mind, it'll be obvious."
That maybe shouldn't make Steve's dick hard. But still, it does reassure him that he's still Tony . "Can you?"
"I can do many things," Tony purrs. "I'd like to do many things to you, pet." He circles Steve slowly, and his presence is like electricity, like standing too close to a flame. There's something about him.
But Steve's mind doesn't feel any different—just his body, gooseflesh rising on his arms and his pants feeling a little tight. Fear and arousal blend seamlessly.
"I might do a good number of them, but I won't take you unless you ask for it."
Steve inhales, and then he just says it because he's not the kind of guy to hesitate. " Could you, though? If you wanted to?"
" Yes ," Tony says in his ear, deep and weirdly resonant, his body pressing lightly against Steve’s back.
"What are you?" Steve whispers.
"A demon. A demon who's hungry, Steve." Tony trails a hand down Steve's hip, then grips his ass. "Do you like that?"
Steve honest-to-God whimpers in response, and then he simply nods. The cat's clearly out of the bag, no need to hide his desire.
"Ooh,” Tony teases. “Captain America likes getting fucked by things that go bump in the night." He traces two fingers up the seam of Steve's pants, caressing his ass, then grabs his ear with teeth that feel human still, but don't make the little tug any less delightful.
"Ah!" Steve gasps. "What do I call you?"
Tony laughs. "I mean, as much as I'd like to make you call me Sir Dark Lord Anthony of the Hidden Realms or some D&D shit, you can't say my true name. It doesn't have voice."
"Doesn't... have voice?" Steve squinches his face in a frown.
"Don't worry about it. It's complicated. Non-corporeal kind of thing... anyway. Tony's fine."
Steve licks his lips, bracing himself. In for a penny. "What about Sir?"
"Oh, yeah? Would you prefer that?" Tony asks. His palm comes to rest at the base of Steve's spine, gentle and possessive. Somehow it feels like a threat, and Steve shouldn't like that, but.
"Yes, please. Sir."
"Mm. You really do have a danger kink. Humans are hilarious." His tone is light, mocking but fond, like Steve is a puppy or something.
"I just want you," Steve counters. "And I like it rough. Not a lot of guys can..."
He's cut off by Tony's teeth on his neck, biting down much harder than they had around Steve's ear. Oh .
They may be like human teeth but that is not a normal degree of human jaw strength. Steve shouts and almost crumples to the floor, but Tony holds him up by the hips as if Steve's weight is entirely negligible.
"What... do you have super strength?" he gasps when Tony releases his neck, laps at the skin.
"Much better, pet. I have magic."
"You hate magic!" Steve insists, feeling slightly betrayed.
Tony laughs. "Magic is science. And vice versa. Humans are terrible with language. Also, pet, I'm many thousands of years old. I do know how to play a character."
"What?! But you age!"
"Do I?" Tony winks. "I have command over this form."
"I wanna see your real one." Steve's not sure what possesses him to ask for that, given that Tony might be a 20-foot tall dragon or something. But Tony just laughs and pinches Steve's nipple.
It feels like a knife, and Steve sags into Tony's hold, grateful for the help, huffing breaths through his nose as he processes the pain. Magic.
"There is no real one, Steve. Demons aren't so constrained. Honestly, being trapped in one form must be dreadfully dull . No wonder humans do so many strange things to their bodies to compensate."
Steve blinks, not really sure what to say to that. But also he's thinking of his own transformation, and Tony looks like he knows it.
"I don't experience you through just five earthly senses," Tony says, touching Steve's face. It feels like a benediction. "I know you on so many levels, mortal, and you're going to take ages to catch up."
Steve knows he looks hopeful when Tony says that, but the demon doesn't shy away from it. He looks hungry, possessive. This is Tony unleashed, Steve realizes, and God he can't wait to experience it.
He kisses like a storm.
Steve finds himself being manhandled into the bedroom, heat burning on his skin wherever Tony touches, and he ultimately ends up on his back. He really doesn't mind.
“I knew we’d end up like this someday,” Tony admits, his eyes flashing with red as he looks down at Steve. It’s strange and otherworldly and Tony just rips Steve’s pants off of his body, easily rending the fabric and tossing it aside. His keys jingle as they land, his phone thumps on the carpet, and that makes it all strangely real again.
“Me, too.”
Tony laughs, “You had no idea what you were in for, though.”
“I do now.” Steve’s firm, defiant, and Tony looks at him like he wants to chew Steve up and spit him out. He might not mind.
“Oh, you really don’t,” Tony grins, shaking his head. “The human concept of knowing is so limited. Linear time. Gross. Spread your legs for me, slut.” Steve’s obedient, can’t really be anything else with Tony looking at him like that. He’s pinned by the dark gaze.
“That’s my good little human fuckdoll,” Tony coos, and Steve shivers with delight. “You want me, don’t you?”
“Yes!” he gasps. Tony’s language is crass, and it should offend him, but Steve has gotten so used to being the strongest one in the room. There’s a part of him that desperately wants to be bested.
“I can taste your desire,” Tony casually shares, like it’s not the hottest thing Steve’s ever heard. “Take off your shirt.”
Tony's own clothes just… dissolve , somehow, and re-form in a puddle at his feet. Steve stares at him for a second, then tugs his t-shirt over his head in one motion. For good measure he strips his underwear off, as well. He’s not shy about his body.
While Steve undresses, Tony idly curls the fingers of one hand open, and a little ball of flame flares up in his palm, snuffing out when he re-forms a fist. He does it again, fingers unfurling one-by-one, and Steve stares at the flame. Tony smirks. The third time he does it, there’s no flame but his fingers glisten with some fluid. Steve gulps.
“Shall I be gentle with you?” Tony asks. His wicked smile belies his obvious understanding that Steve doesn’t need, nor want, gentle.
“No, Sir,” Steve verbalizes anyway, and Tony surges onto the bed, his movements graceful and also somehow alien, though Steve can’t quite put a finger on it.
He’s Tony but also more , like he’s removed a layer of disguise that has nothing to do with his clothes. His body still looks human, except for those eyes, and his fingers don’t feel like anything other than human fingers, except for the fact that they’re slick somehow without the need for artificial lubricant. Steve gasps and tries to relax, to convince his body that the intrusion isn’t unwelcome.
Tony grins. “Your first time.” It’s not a question, and it doesn’t make feel Steve ashamed the way the observation might have under different circumstances. If Tony’s really thousands of years old, he can hardly compete for experience.
“Yes.” Steve huffs out a long breath, feels how the questing fingers coax his internal muscles to make room. Tony’s not rough with it, exactly, but the steady intrusive push of two fingers into a very tight channel is still strange. “Is that a thing? Do you only fuck virgins?”
Tony’s laugh is absolutely delighted, his head tipping back. “Darling. That would imply that I mean to have you only once.” He levels his gaze again, then bends forward to hover over Steve so that their mouths nearly brush. “You would be absurdly mistaken.”
“ Tony ,” Steve groans, and he lifts his head to kiss the demon as Tony’s fingers bottom out and start to push apart, spreading him.
It’s strange and uncomfortable on one level, but as Tony kisses him he feels Tony’s magic flowing through his body, meeting his arousal. Tony bites at his mouth, curls his fingers, and Steve cries out from the sudden way pleasure seems to dart through his cock like it’s searching from deep inside him for an escape route. “Sir!”
“That’s right, Steven. You know how to take me. Your body knows.”
Tony’s tone is a low, satisfied purr, and he keeps rubbing that spot until Steve’s keening, thrashing underneath him but unable to jerk any further than the solid wall of Tony’s body. If he had any brainspace left, Steve might wonder how Tony’s able to form the illusion that he’s light, moveable, relatively fragile. But his whole focus is consumed for the time being.
Steve presses his mouth messily against Tony’s, feeling desperate. “Please. Put your cock in me. I need to know how it feels.”
“Gorgeous.” Tony smiles, darting his tongue out to lick Steve’s cheek. “I like the way you beg.”
“ Please .”
“Roll over, then,” Tony instructs, sliding his fingers out. Steve quickly complies and Tony grabs some pillows, shoves them under Steve’s hips. His dick is definitely going to stain the pillowcases, but it’s not surprising that Tony Stark wouldn’t care about that, demon or no.
When Steve's in position Tony rakes his nails from the nape of Steve’s neck to his tailbone. Steve shivers at the sensation, sparkles of energy all down his spine.
“I want to take you like this.”
“Yes. Please.”
The press of Tony’s cock is sudden and inexorable, not a pain exactly but the experience is intense , the physical stretch combined with another flood of magic that makes Steve think Christ, there’s more ? even as he moans loud enough to wake the dead. It makes him softer inside, makes it easier for Tony to fuck into him.
Tony's dick is pressing everywhere , including against the spot he targeted earlier. It’s less precise, but the way Tony fucks him jostles his whole body, lights Steve up pretty much everywhere. Tony’s hands clench at his hips and he works Steve back onto his dick like a ragdoll.
“I’m not just a demon,” Tony admits, draping over Steve’s back and continuing to fuck him rather vigorously. “I’m the demon. I have many forms,” he whispers in Steve’s ear. “But this is the one I’ve decided to fuck you in. And you like submitting to me, don’t you Rogers?”
“Yes, Sir,” Steve half-moans.
“You’re mine , aren’t you, Rogers?”
“Yes, Sir!” It’s a gasp this time. Tony grunts and thrusts hard up into him, and then Steve's orgasm hits him so hard he thinks Tony must be controlling him somehow.
“I recognized you. Now I claim you,” Tony hisses in his ear like it’s a curse.
( Maybe it is. )
Steve doesn’t care, though, because Steve can’t care, because Steve’s gone . Completely lost to his pleasure, definitely supernaturally heightened. He shakes and spasms and his mouth hangs open and every bit of energy in his body violently contributes to the prolonged orgasm Tony’s forcing him through somehow.
When it’s finally over, Steve slumps into a heap on his stomach. He's barely even awake and Tony’s still thrusting, his hands palming Steve’s ass. Steve doesn’t mind it, though, being fucked while he’s this exhausted. He’s loose and limp and Tony’s cock feels good, even if it makes him jerk periodically from the sensitivity. There’s something about the curve, and it’s thick .
Tony bends over Steve's back, lips close to his ear as the demon starts to come, his seed flooding Steve's ass. “I know you in your dreams. I know you in your fantasies. I know you in your past and your future. You have no idea how I know you,” Tony purrs. “I haven’t had one like you in a long time. Your soul called to me. Sweet Catholic boy, nice and strong... so pure in deed, so wicked in desire. But you’re not pure anymore, darling. Tell me, do you feel corrupted?”
All Steve can manage is a weak moan, and shortly after that he slips out of consciousness. When he awakes he’s alone and there’s a sigil on his stomach, like a brand.
~*~
“Are you really… I mean, you're actually… Lucifer?” Steve whispers, his eyes darting around the workshop. They’re alone, here where Tony dragged Steve as soon as he woke up, but it doesn't hurt to be cautious. He assumes his lover wants to keep this secret.
Tony just laughs, though. “I’ve been called by many names, Steve. Lucifer’s a name for one of the versions of me. I like it, though. You know what it means?”
“Morningstar,” Steve says, low and rich.
“Light-bringer.” Tony shoots him a cheeky grin, and it's still hard to reconcile with what Steve now knows. He's still Tony, co-leader of the Avengers and Steve's friend. But he's also a lot more than that, and it makes Steve a little weak. “Personally, I think I bring a lot of dark…”
Tony reaches up, casually digs his nails into the back of Steve’s neck in that manner that feels like needles piercing his skin. Steve crumples a little at Tony’s workstation, hissing through the pain. Tony holds him up by his neck, and that’s almost unbearably hot.
“Some humans used those names for the planet Venus, too,” Tony muses. “When it rises in the morning, visible before the sunrise.” He smiles. “Venus, that's a funny one. Aphrodite. You think of her as the goddess of love, but it's a love that bears children for empires. Mars and Venus, love and war, not so separate after all, hmm? Like sex and death,” he smirks, and Steve blushes a little.
“If you’re asking me whether God is real, though? Your people got a lot wrong,” Tony shrugs. “The good-versus-evil battle doesn't look anything like what your Bible describes. Takes place on earth, for one. And I’d say it’s far more subjective than ‘good’ and ‘evil,’ but of course I’d say that, wouldn't I?”
Tony offers a smirky little smile, but Steve doesn’t buy his casualness. Even as Tony releases his neck and he’s getting his knees to solidify underneath him, he reaches out and squeezes Tony’s waist.
“I don’t think you’re conning me.”
“Steve.” Tony rolls his eyes. “I’m the literal devil. Capisce?”
“Sure. But you’re also Tony Stark. And I know Tony Stark.” Steve declares that rather confidently, because if anything he absolutely knows it to be true. Steve refuses to believe that the Tony he’s come to know and trust and confide in, and now has experienced such intimacy with, is entirely a sham.
“True,” Tony murmurs, looking at him like Steve’s response was something unexpected.
After a moment he drags Steve in for a kiss, making it clear that he doesn’t mind the risk of being caught making out with Steve in his workshop, when he still looks plausibly human at least. Tony’s eyes haven’t changed, but Steve can still see what’s lurking in the deep brown of them when they pull apart for air.
(For Steve to get air, anyway. He’s not certain Tony actually needs to breathe.)
“Anyway… there are more than two sides, and I… am a lot of things,” Tony offers, toying with Steve's belt buckle. “I’m war. I’m greed. I’m also Tony Stark.”
Steve grins, and then can't help but point out: “Well, Tony Stark is a billionaire. And capitalism is a pretty evil invention.”
“I didn’t invent capitalism,” Tony laughs. “Humans fucked that up all by yourselves. It does bring me pleasure, though.”
Okay, that really shouldn’t be hot. Has Steve somehow pledged himself to capitalism, in a roundabout way? Somehow that seems worse than declaring allegiance to Lucifer, though it does seem to prove some of Steve’s political philosophies right.
“That’s so wrong,” he sighs.
“Is it?”
“Yes. I shouldn’t be fucking someone who’s into exploitation of labor.”
“Not really about that, Stevie-boy. I am, at heart, a hedonist and a gamemaster. JARVIS,” Tony grins. “Play my song.”
A drum riff echoes loudly from the shop speakers, interspersed by a man’s primal scream and a series of grunts. Before the piano kicks in Tony’s gone back to digging into Steve’s neck, making him whimper and twitch with the instinctive desire to run. Tony only relents when the lyrics start.
Please allow me to introduce myself,
I’m a man of wealth and taste.
I’ve been around for a long long year,
Stole many a man’s soul and faith
Steve raises an eyebrow, and Tony grins.
“Listen.”
I was there when Jesus Christ had his moment of doubt and pain,
Made damn sure that Pilate washed his hands and sealed his faith.
Pleased to meet you, hope you’ve guessed my name.
But what’s puzzlin’ you is the nature of my game.
“Merchant of Death. I liked that one,” Tony says when JARVIS lowers the volume, responding to a hand gesture. “I earned that one. Greedy, wealthy capitalist, that's a reputation I kind of set myself up for in this form.”
“Set yourself up?” Steve frowns.
“Oh, yeah. You wanna know the story?”
“...sure.”
“J, lock it down. C’mere, sit. You’re gonna wanna.”
Steve follows his order, though he's feeling a little trepidatious now, following Tony to the sofa. The music fades out.
Steve likes the way Tony is still generally soft and solicitous, even though he has to know now that Steve will obey him if he chooses instead to be hard. “Tell me, please?”
Tony sits down next to him, twisting to face Steve and tucking his legs up on the sofa. “I prefer to live full human lifespans, one at a time. Good way to gain trust,” he winks, like that isn’t a horrifying thing to say. Steve should probably object more, and he's going to wonder later whether Tony has some apocalyptic, diabolical endgame. Would Steve really compromise his morals just for his connection to one man?
(If he thinks too hard about that, though, he's going to reach the same conclusion. After all, “to the end of line line” was a promise Steve made years before meeting Tony.)
“You knew my father.”
Steve blinks. “ Howard ?”
Tony smiles. “One of my minions who also likes to spend time in a human form, though he has a habit of checking out early.” Tony snorts. “Gets bored. Anyway, he married a human woman within five years of my orders, as the form I’d manifested was getting closer to death, and when I was ready she conceived.”
“But don’t you have to spend time in… Hell?” Steve frowns.
“There’s no such thing as Hell, unless you count the plane where we retreat. We have our own dimensions, the different factions, that serve as places of sanctuary. I think of mine as the Void, where we can be formless. Pure energy. But this is our battleground. The grand experiment.”
“So what, Earth is a… competition?”
Tony smiles. “Of sorts. And it’s fun to change forms so often, yours really are short-lived. I can’t always be quite sure who’s affiliated with one of the other sides, keeps it interesting.”
“Wait, then what if I was?” Steve frowns.
Tony laughs. “Oh, child.” He strokes Steve’s cheek with the back of his hand. “You’ve always been so clearly one of mine.”
Steve shivers. “So… your minion married your mother, except she’s not really your mother.”
“Well, she kind of is ,” Tony laughs, his hand trailing down Steve’s neck, over the slope of his shoulder. “When I manifest in a new form, a human woman still births me. They don’t realize that their husband is a creature of the Void, and that his Master can manifest through his ejaculate. Y’know, details.”
“Oh.”
“It's more authentic, that way, than just shapeshifting. Limits perception. I'll never truly know a human life, but I can dip a toe in the water.”
“Right.”
“So my minion—we’ll call him Howard for convenience—had already been establishing himself on earth as an inventor. He contracted with the military and went off to war for some excitement, accidentally making an inordinate amount of money in the process. I could've predicted it, though. That particular minion always ends up wealthy when he takes form.” Tony rolls his eyes. “By the time he found young Maria Carbonell and got her pregnant, I was destined to live life as the son of a capitalist. Not so bad. War profiteering was fun for a while.”
Steve groans. “This story was almost sympathetic, until you said that .”
“I am the one who burns the fields, to make way for new growth from the ash,” Tony says like he’s quoting something, and shrugs. “Soldiers’ bodies make excellent ash, but I don’t consider it fortunate.”
“You don’t.” Steve frowns. “So you like capitalism, but aren’t pleased by death?”
“I didn’t say I like capitalism, I said it brings me pleasure. Subtle difference. It’s hedonistic and it breeds chaos. Chaos can be cruel or beautiful or both, and I’m not picky.” Tony licks his lips and grins. “It also creates a lot of desperate people with interesting kinks. People receptive to my kind of magic.”
“Howard died, though. Didn’t he?”
“In that form, yes. When I was done with him I had the Soldier take him out, send him back to the Void. The Soldier’s my assassin,” he adds to clarify.
“You have an assassin?”
“Several. This one’s special, though.”
“Okay… so your parents didn’t die in a crash?”
“They did. But the Winter Soldier caused it.” Tony shrugs. “I got tired of having them around. Maria was human but her slate was hardly clean, and there was some poetic justice in it.” Steve frowns, but doesn't ask.
“Howard Stark was fine as a cover. Sucked dick like a pro when Mom wasn’t around.” Tony grins, and Steve shivers because it’s hard not to see Howard as Tony’s father. Not to mention one of the straightest men Steve’s ever met, or so he thought. “But he tends to get too big for his britches, if he's in a form for a while.”
“Is that how it is with all of your minions? Does your assassin suck your dick?” Steve can't help blurting out.
Tony smirks. “Oh, yeah. I mean, he does. Not all of them, necessarily. And you probably shouldn’t meet the Soldier in any event. You’d be a little freaked out.”
“Why?”
“He might’ve possessed someone familiar for this round of manifestation… well, it doesn’t really matter. Unless it does,” Tony declares enigmatically.
Steve blinks, wondering if it’s someone close to the Avengers. Maybe a SHIELD agent?
Possession sounds violent. But also, he’s sitting on a sofa with Tony and forces of evil or not, he looks utterly delicious. Steve blushes a little.
“Oh, Steven. You are so obviously mine,” Tony teases. He swallows and nods, and Tony climbs into his lap. “Open your mouth.”
He does so, slowly, and Tony spits on his tongue. It’s a headtrip, but also Tony's grabbed his jaw and Steve feels very owned. His concerns slip away and his body starts to buzz with the electricity of Tony’s magic. He wonders if Tony would be a match for Thor, like this.
“Close. Swallow.”
Steve does as he’s told and feels hornier suddenly, almost instantly. He whimpers a little at the intensity of it, and Tony grins.
“Ooh, babe. Never trust a demon. Especially not me.”
I trust you anyway, Steve wants to say to Tony’s apparent insecurity, but he can’t. I love you.
Tony’s eyes flash suddenly, red momentarily sparking in his warm brown human irises. Then his mouth is on Steve’s, hands skimming up his sides. Steve remembers all his additional senses and groans.
“That’s right, sweetheart,” Tony murmurs against his lips. “Unfurl for me. So relaxed.”
Steve thinks that he can’t possibly be all evil. Tony laughs and grabs Steve by the hair, guides him down to Tony’s lap.
“It’s not as simple as that,” Tony says as he gets his dick out, feeds it to Steve, like he heard Steve's errant thought. It’s Steve's first blowjob but he doesn’t hesitate to stretch his mouth around it, teeth grazing helplessly. Tony’s so thick.
“I’m a lot of different things. So are the other sides. I prefer the things I am. But one of those is power . Violence. Excess. Pleasure. Pain.”
He grabs Steve’s skull in his hands and fucks past the resistance in Steve’s throat, making his eyes water. For a second Steve is afraid he might lose control of his stomach, but it’s just gagging and coughing up drool as Tony’s dick violates his throat.
“Yeahh, choke on that cock,” Tony sighs, and Steve feels like he’s drifting on a cloud even as Tony’s thrusts shred his throat. It’s a weird duality, and he can’t really help but shove his hand down his own pants.
“Oh there you go, slut,” Tony smiles. “Get yourself off, that’s it. You were made for me, so show me.”
Steve’s inspired to force his own throat down, to bury his face in Tony’s pubes. Tony laughs and holds him there by the hair until Steve’s body starts jerking, lungs burning, and then he floods Steve’s stomach with his load. Everything’s starting to swim out of focus when Tony finally pulls him up and lets him breathe.
“Fuck, that was hot. Do you like sucking dick, slut?”
“Yeah,” Steve gasps, kissing him messily. “Fuck, that was… what was that?”
Tony laughs. “One of my children waking up.”
“I didn’t know I was asleep,” Steve murmurs, feeling dopey and satisfied. His dick’s still hard in his hand, but it feels non-urgent.
Tony just smiles and pets his hair, unaccountably fond. “Rest now.”