Tony was sprawled on the couch in his office, feet on the low glass table, staring past his reflection in the huge dark windows. If he turned off the lights, he'd have a phenomenal view of the city. But that would require getting up, and he'd drunk too much to view that idea with pleasure. Of course, if he got up, he could fetch another drink. He put his head back, and closed his eyes. Perhaps he'd just fall asleep here. Again. Pepper would send for clean clothes.
The door clicked. Tony sighed.
"Go home, Pepper."
"She just left," said an unexpected voice, and Tony opened his eyes to see a familiar blue-cowled face looking down at him, expression unrecognisable from this angle. "I haven't seen Iron Man in a day or two, so I thought I'd stop by. Ms Potts said I should come up and speak to you."
"Yeah, I've... been keeping him busy. Sorry about that." It occured to him if Cap looked odd this way, he must too. He sat up, and Cap walked round the couch, ridiculously quiet for such a big man.
"It's fine. There's been nothing we couldn't handle. I was just..." He smiled a little awkwardly. "Just concerned, you know. And you - are you all right?"
Tony sighed. He shot a quick glance at his empty glass; should have refilled it earlier. He wasn't going to risk a drunken stagger in front of Captain America.
"I'm fine," he said, and cursed himself for the plaintive tone of his voice. Cap frowned at him, and one gloved hand lifted slightly towards him, then moved back to clutch the edge of the shield.
"Is there anything I can do to help?" he said. Genuine concern, of course. Caring was what Cap did best, whether it was wounded comrades, lost dogs, or drunken billionaires. Tony shook his head, and Cap put out his hand again, resting his fingertips gently on Tony's shoulder. "Tony," he said, and Tony looked up at him. "You've done so much to help me. I wish there were something I could do for you."
"You don't owe me anything, Cap," he said, and Cap let out a irritated snort.
"Not - I don't - " He pulled back his hand and rubbed at his face. "It's not about paying you back. It's about being your friend."
"I - thanks." Tony felt an absurd lump in his throat. Jesus, he was pretty drunk if a declaration of friendship made him feel mushy. But Cap was looking at him all serious and sincere, and it was so hard to feel cynical in the face of that. On impulse, he reached out and hooked a finger into Cap's belt, and tugged. Cap took a step forward, and the enticing bulge in his leather pants was only a few inches away.
"There are a couple of things that cheer me up," he said flippantly. He could always blame it on the booze. "And alcohol isn't really hitting the spot today." He slid his hand down, and Cap's mouth dropped open.
"I - " and he cut himself off as Tony rubbed him firmly. "Oh - " He looked down at Tony's hand, back at Tony's face, and then he looked sideways and Tony knew he was looking at the empty glass, wondering how drunk he was. Tony yanked at Cap's belt, had his pants open before the vague worry on his face crystallized into an actual objection, and then he buried his face in hot skin and rough hair. It seemed even Captain America had trouble saying no to a blowjob, because he just caught his breath and put a hand to Tony's face. The leather was cool against his skin, and Tony made an encouraging muffled noise and leaned into it, because the thought of Cap grabbing his hair, fucking his face - he was too polite or too shy, though, because he just cupped Tony's face gently and let him get on with it. Tony gave it his best effort, wet and sloppy and noisy, moaning appreciation, and Cap just stood there, staring down at him, only the speeding of his breath and the tremble in his thighs betraying his arousal.
Tony forced himself to take more, wrestled back his gag reflex and let Cap slip into his throat just a bit, and saw his eyes widen, felt his dick twitch. He pulled off, teasing at the head with his tongue before licking his lips ostentatiously, and Cap groaned and his grip tightened on Tony's jaw.
"Please," he said, and Tony gave him what he knew had to be a crazed grin, hands already at his belt. He slipped off the couch onto his knees, shoved his pants down over his hips and bent over the table.
"Fuck me," he said, and Cap dropped down behind him without question, dick clearly doing the thinking for him. Tony heard the clang of his shield hitting the floor, and then Cap's hands were on him.
"I'll hurt you," he said, but he was stroking, spreading Tony. "I don't want to - " A glove landed on the table, and then Tony was stretched wide by wet fingers, three or maybe just two, Cap's big powerful hands - he forced himself to relax, tried to force his body to co-operate, he wanted to get fucked before Cap had the time to think second thoughts.
"Come on," he said, letting the desperation into his voice. "I like it like this. You want it, come on." He reached back and grabbed Cap's dick, squeezed and stroked, and Cap moaned and pulled his fingers out and let Tony line them up and push back against him.
He couldn't quite keep in the sharp noise of pain as he got it in, and Cap's hands clamped down on his hips, holding him still.
"Gently," he said. Tony let him take over; there was no way he was going to stop now and Tony didn't care how he did it, just as long as he did it. Big, Cap was big, and even at that slow pace, the gentle rocking push and retreat, it made him feel raw and strained. Tony rested his cheek on his arm and watched him in the window, watched him wince and pant as he worked his way deeper, the glitter of the lights outside shining through and making his armour sparkle. It seemed to last forever; he felt mild surprise when Cap finally halted, hips pressed tight against his ass. Cap's breathing eased, and he opened his eyes and met Tony's gaze in the glass. He coloured and looked away, down at Tony.
"Are you all right?" he said, and Tony nodded.
"Yeah," he said, a rasp in his voice. "Yeah, come on," and he shut his eyes, concentrated on the rough scrape inside of him as Cap moved. Cap's hands slid up to grip his shoulders, and he was lifted, pulled back and settled in Cap's lap, knees bracketing his; a hand closed round his barely-hard dick, and just looking down at that red leather glove bright against his skin was getting him hard pretty fast. Tony rocked his hips, pulling off a little so he could nudge the head of Cap's dick against his prostate as Cap stroked him, and that was good, that was unbelievably good, he was moaning far too loudly but couldn't keep it in.
When he opened his eyes, Cap was watching him in the windows, eyes intent and lips parted. Tony arched his back, twisted, spread his thighs as wide as he could with his pants still round his knees, displaying himself as best he could. He felt Cap groan, a barely audible vibration, and he slid his hands up Tony's body, pushed his shirt up to expose his belly. Tony caught his hand before it could reveal his scarring, moved it down to his dick again, but other hand was already under his shirt, stroking upwards, and as Cap's fingers drifted into the web of scars, Tony wriggled and leaned forward precariously, and Cap had to grab his hips to steady him. That was better, he didn't want the scars out, and he didn't want to talk about it. He put a hand between his legs, stroked the root of Cap's dick where it entered him, and heard Cap's breath catch and felt his nails scratch as he dragged Tony down harder. Tony pushed his finger in, and Cap cried out.
"Tony. Tony, you - oh, God." Tony worked in deeper and rubbed at his prostate, too hard, too much, his body tightened painfully and then Cap grabbed his biceps and spun them away from the table and threw him down. Tony's nose was inches from the carpet, only Cap's hand on his chest keeping him from a faceplant, the other hand fisted on the floor by his head, propping them up. Warmth from Cap's bare hand seeped through his shirt, and he spared a moment to worry that the scarring could be felt through the thin fabric before Cap's hips drove into him and shattered his thoughts.
He got his free hand to the floor, managed to brace himself for the next thrust, and Tony could feel the harsh breaths on his neck as Cap fucked him, feel the throb of Cap's dick against his finger. He tried to get another finger in, but he was stretched too tight; he kept trying, hearing Cap's moans get louder as he worked his fingers against the steady rhythm of Cap's dick in him..
It was the sight of it that got him off, looking up to see his reflection hunched over, ass in the air, Cap wrapped round him and rutting into him. He could feel the deep shudder inside his body, feel it pull tight, and Cap made a noise like a man in pain and shoved in harder, fucking him through his orgasm until he was limp and yielding and could only manage a whimper as Cap's dick smeared hot and wet inside him.
Cap came to a stop like an engine dying, slowing into rough ragged thrusts, nuzzling into Tony's hair. His dick slipped out as Tony pulled his finger free, making a wet obscene sound that made Tony's dick stir with ridiculous ambition. Cap was dropping soft kisses onto Tony's neck now, and when Tony turned his head, he could see the besotted expression of a man who's just had really fucking incredible sex. He closed his eyes, and let Cap kiss him, pull him upright and kiss him again, wet and deep, arms wrapped round him, perfect.
He finally pulled free and staggered to his feet - after that, he was allowed a stagger - and dragged his pants up before grabbing his glass and moving to the desk to pour himself another drink. When he turned, Cap had already done up his pants, and apart from the goofy grin and the missing glove, looked impeccable. He could see himself past Cap, in the window, scruffy and debauched looking, and by Cap's expression he thought it was a good look on Tony. He didn't look at all regretful; he looked like he wanted to do it again, soon.
Cap was a romantic. Tony knew that. Cap would take him home, go to bed with him, call him the next day. Given the slightest encouragement, he'd send flowers and take him out to dinner. If Tony was careful, he could spin this out for weeks before Cap realised just how fucked up Tony was, and started looking for a way out.
Just the thought of seeing Cap trying to back off from him, let him down gently, made Tony's gut twist. And by that time, Tony would be too far gone to hang on to his dignity. He'd cling, and Cap would try to be kind -
"Well, that definitely helped," he said breezily. "Jesus, Cap, I never thought you had it in you."
Cap ducked his head, sheepish.
"I just - " He looked away, flushing. "Uh, yeah."
"Right." Tony put the glass down, and cast a glance at him. "I should really clean up, so - " Cap could pick up on a hint, at least. He turned towards his shield, and then hesitated and took a step towards Tony. He reached out, and for a moment Tony thought he was going to pull him into a hug, hoped he was. But Cap clasped his arm, and gave him a searching look.
"I know I don't know much about the problems you have. Business goes over my head, really. But if there's any help I can give you, please, tell me."
"Sure, Cap," Tony said, and by the soft sigh that escaped Cap's lips, he heard the lie. He didn't push it, though, just squeezed Tony's arm and went to the couch to pick up his shield and discarded glove. He looked at Tony again.
"I'll see you soon," he said, a hint of a question in his voice, and Tony smiled, not quite his glossy society smile.
"Sure, Cap," he said. "I've always got time for you." Cap returned his smile, warm and approving, before he left.
Tony refilled the glass, and went back to the couch.