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It started because of the family butler, Edwin Jarvis.
While Tony could almost count the number of hours he had spent with his parents collectively, it had been Jarvis who had raised him. Jarvis was the one to tend to skinned knees and broken hearts. It was the family butler Tony ran to when he aced his tests and won award after award. Even when Tony was sent away to boarding school, it was Jarvis who he rang to vent to about how the older kids didn’t like him because he was too smart, too young, too strange.
So it was little wonder that it was Jarvis, when Tony was four-years-old and trying not to cry that his circuit board wasn’t functioning correctly, which took his hand and placed a rag in it and told him to help clean the lower windows. He had, obviously, thrown a tantrum at the very idea, but there had been no one except Jarvis to hear it and the older man hadn’t been swayed by crocodile tears and young, healthy lungs. Eventually, Jarvis won and Tony sat dutifully on the floor at the man’s feet, helping to clean the huge windows that took up an entire wall of the manors sitting room.
They were halfway through the second window when, suddenly, Tony knew exactly what had been wrong with the circuit board and he’d dashed off to fix it, his rag on the floor abandoned.
Later, after Tony had proudly shown Jarvis his finished prototype and been assured that, yes, his father would be very proud when he got home next month, Tony had remembered to thank Jarvis for his help.
Thus, the habit was born, that every time Tony found himself stuck with his designs or the prototype just wouldn’t function correctly, Tony would find some cleaning supplies in the cabinet under the sink and he’d start cleaning the table, or polishing the wooden banister, or even do the normally neglected dishes. Even after Jarvis’s passing, Tony still found something about the lemon-scented cleaning fluids and the repetitive motions involved with cleaning that would clear his had and allow his brain to figure out what the solution was while his hands were busy.
*
Pepper and Rhodey, well, they didn’t really mind Tony’s quirk. There were a hell of a lot of other things, bad things, very bad things, that Tony could do to help him clear his mind and work out problems.
So even if they occasionally came across a half polished table leg, the polish container sitting on the floor with the rag still in it, completely discarded, they just put it away for the moment as they knew the next time Tony needed something to clean, they’d point him in the right direction.
*
The Avengers might be earth’s mightiest heroes, but it still took almost a full month for them to learn about Tony’s quirk after they had moved into the tower. This was despite the fact that various members had wandered into recently abandoned, half completed dishes, table wipes and even a memorable occasion where Thor ended up slipping over onto his back due to a half finished floor mopping.
It wasn’t until they all happened to be coming up the elevator together for breakfast one morning, that they found out.
Steve had been coming home from a morning run, Bruce just arriving back from the early morning market where, apparently, only the good stuff could be found if you were one of the first to arrive. Clint and Natasha had been at SHIELD and were only just arriving home and Thor had just come back from one of his favourite past times, ogling the rush of the early morning commuters via train.
When JARVIS had opened the elevator onto the community level, which housed the kitchen, everyone’s main goal at the moment, they had all come to a stop only a few steps into the room.
It wasn’t exactly uncommon for them for see Pepper Potts in the tower, she was Stark Industries CEO after all and was often after Tony about one project or another, or a meeting, or a gala, or whatever it was this week. But she was quietly sitting at the breakfast table with a cup of coffee and a tablet, seemingly content for the moment as her fingers flew across the screen, micromanaging one of the largest companies in the world like a pro.
It was the sight of Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, standing at the kitchen sink muttering away to himself, a pile of waiting dishes keeping him company, that stunned everyone.
“Did we step into an alternate universe when the elevator opened?” Clint asked, voice tinged with amusement as he stepped closer to the surprising sight before them.
“Good morning.” Pepper greeted them, glancing up with a small smile before her attention went back to the tablet.
“Morning, Pepper… Tony?” Steve’s voice lifted at the end as the rest of the team approached, confusion still evident on their faces.
Tony didn’t even appear to have heard the others entre, he was still at the sink, the continuous muttering accompanied by the repetitive wash, rinse, stack in the dry-rack routine.
“Does Tony actually know what he’s doing right now?” Bruce asked when it looked like neither Pepper or Tony was going to make a remark about the oddity happening right before them all.
“He got stuck on how to make the acid not corrode within an arrow head, apparently.” Pepper said, as if this explained everything to the very confused team.
“That doesn’t explain his sudden domesticity?” Natasha said blandly.
Pepper actually looked up at them in surprise at that.
“Really? I’m positive he got stuck last week on that ridiculous glider suit he was playing around with. I know he doesn’t clean up after himself so he must have left a pile of cleaning supplies somewhere around here.” She trailed off thoughtfully, her eyes actually looking around the area as if there would be said supplies still lying on the ground.
While the others just looked at her as if she was speaking a foreign language – and even then there was a fairly good chance that, between them all, they’d somewhat understand her if she did – when Steve had a moment of understanding.
“Do you mean last week when I almost tripped over the spray bottle and a roll of paper towel that was left in the hallway?” He asked, remembering how he’d only just managed to steady himself with a hand on the wall.
“Aye,” Thor agreed, a look of recognition on his face. “Or when I encountered the wet floor?”
“Ah, yes, he still hasn’t gotten the concept of putting his things out of the way when he figures out his problem.” Pepper sighed, affection clouding her tone.
“Are you telling me, that genius over here,” Clint jerked his thumb in Tony’s direction. “Stress cleans?” The incredulity was clear in his voice.
“I don’t know if I’d say its stress. It’s more, when he get’s stuck and can’t think of an immediate solution, he cleans whatever he can get his hands on.” Pepper mused thoughtfully.
The team stared at her for a moment before she gave when a cool look.
“I don’t think any of you have any kind of leg to stand on. I’m sure you workout in the gym or something equally mindless when you need to let your mind wander and think through things without actively thinking about them.”
Well, she wasn’t wrong.
“So this kind of thing is… normal, then?” Steve finally clarified, eyes once more focused on the genius as he moved a plate to the clean side of the sink.
“Yes. It’s nothing to worry about. You’ll probably end up appreciating it. Rhodey did during university.” She laughed lightly before turning back to her tablet.
“Okay then; I’m hungry.” Clint said, evidently moving on from the weird and focusing on the more important, namely his stomach.
“Yes, let us partake in our morning meal!” Thor agreed enthusiastically, moving forwards towards the pop tart cupboard.
The others agreed and Tony’s unusual – but apparently completely normal – behaviour was accepted.
If everyone jumped slightly when, ten minutes later, Tony let out a sudden, happy cry and rambled off a complicated formula only Bruce would have any hope of understanding before he took off for the elevator, not even bothering to dry his hands off. Well, Pepper did say this was completely normal and now most of the dishes had been cleaned.
A win – win situation, really.
*
Steve wasn’t exactly proud to admit it, but Tony’s little quirk quickly became one of his favourite things about the genius. It wasn’t the nicest thought, but Steve came to enjoy seeing the dark haired man sitting on the floor beneath the table polishing the wooden table legs or wandering around the den wielding a fluffy duster.
It was better than Steve’s initial concern that Tony would constantly be taking apart various household appliances and leaving their insides strewn about the tower as this, sadly had been a legitimate concern after the soldier had caught a glimpse through the glass walls of the man’s workshop.
The best thing Steve had caught Tony doing, however, had to have been when he walked into the kitchen and found the man down on his hands and knees, apparently sorting out one of the cupboards of rarely used appliances. The sight of the man’s dark denim jeans stretched tight across his ass and the rocking motion as Tony pulled out bits and pieces before diving back into the hidden depths was…
Steve blushed bright red when the genius eventually let out a pleased sounding ‘yes!’ before he’d quickly gotten up and left the room in a hurry, evidently having solved the problem, leaving bits and pieces of kitchen supplies lying all over the floor around the open cupboard door.
Steve couldn’t help but smile fondly before he moved to shove everything back into the cupboard, no one would notice if it was a bit messier than usual. And if Steve’s dick was half-hard in his pants while he did it and his thoughts carried the image of Tony moving rhythmically and making a similar, more pleasured version of that ‘yes’ in a slightly different situation, well, that was his business.
*
Steve figured out fairly swiftly that when Tony was wondering around with a small, frustrated little frown on his face, that he would happily take up any kind of cleaning job available to him.
Unfortunately, Clint was also quick to pick up on this and in his usual highly immature nature, according to Steve that was, began loading pointed comments towards Tony whenever he came across the man in one of his cleaning spells.
The first time it had happened, Tony had made himself a bit of a nest on the den floor, surrounded by a pile of shoes and armed with shoe polish, a rag, and a problem with the propulsion system in a stealth boat he was making for SHIELD. Steve was sitting quietly on the couch, sketchpad open and pencil sweeping across the pages as he tried to capture the slightly pinched expression around Tony’s eyes, when Clint entered the room.
The archer had taken one look at the mumbling genius and a grin had stretched across his face. Making his way towards the couch, no doubt to turn the television on, he had thrown a wink over his shoulder to Tony and the comment:
“I could give you something else that could do with a good polish?”
Clint had laughed to himself, evidently amused despite the lack of response he received from the genius who had flat out ignored him, before flopping down on the couch and requesting JARVIS turn on some movie about a kung fu kid.
Steve, however, had frozen where he sat, eyes still on the sketch and hand no longer moving. Steve wasn’t, by nature, particularly jealous or possessive of people. It would have been exhausting when he was younger and Bucky had received endless attention from the dames, it would have been ridiculous to try and own all of his time. Even now, Steve was always happy to lend people his stuff and felt no desire to prevent his friends from going and doing things without him.
However, the tight feeling in his gut, the unexplainable flush of anger in his cheeks and the tightening grip on his pencil were all indicators of jealousy.
Steve consciously relaxed his pencil grip so he wouldn’t snap the wood and slowly looked up. Clint was already immersed in whatever show he was watching and Tony was still busy polishing the boots on the floor.
The polishing and muttering combo suddenly stopped, however, and a manic gleam entered Tony’s eyes as he sat up straight.
“That’s it!” He exclaimed excitedly, dropping the shoe and rag as he clambered to his feet and darted out of the room.
There was a beat before Tony suddenly stuck his head back into the den, nose scrunched up and a teasing glint in his eyes.
“Like I’d ever want to polish that, Clint.” Then he was, once again, gone.
Clint, who’d looked surprised by the comment as they’d previously been under the working assumption that Tony didn’t even hear them when he was in one of his cleaning zones, suddenly burst into delighted sounding laughter.
Steve wasn’t entirely sure what to do about that.
*
It seemed that Tony’s apparent willingness to tease back with Clint had opened the floodgates of the archers’ innuendoes. The man even went out of his way to stick around until Tony had finished his cleaning just to hear what rebuff the genius came up with. What Clint didn’t know, was that it was only Tony’s continual rebuffs that were standing in the way of Steve punching him.
Every time Steve heard one of the comments, from when Clint caught Tony wiping down the glass table and said: ‘I’ll give you something to rub down’, to when Tony was on his hands and knees scrubbing at a particularly stubborn mark on the floor and Clint walked past with an amused: ‘I’m pretty sure my bedroom floor needs a good scrub too’. Steve felt the now familiar heat curl in his stomach and he couldn’t help the way all his muscles tensed with anger, his fists clenched at his sides.
It was three weeks after Clint’s first comment that Steve found himself sitting at the kitchen table with Natasha, the newspaper open before him even though he hadn’t actually paid it any attention since first opening it. Tony was once again in one of his moods, this time continually reaching up and pulling out plates to wipe down with a damp cloth to remove any dust.
The motion caused the man’s black singlet to pull up each time he reached upwards, exposing a frankly tantalising sliver of tan skin at his hips.
God, what Steve wouldn’t do to be able to bite and lick that strip of skin.
The moment was ruined when Clint walked into the room, took one look at Tony and the comment was already leaving his lips before he’d made it to the fridge. Steve was only vaguely aware that the paper crinkled under the strength of his grip.
Thankfully, Tony quickly seemed to come to some kind of conclusion, as he pulled away from the counter, dropping the cloth in the sink before making a beeline for the elevator, muttering something about transfusers as he went.
Natasha, who had been quietly sipping her cup of coffee and watching the others, waited only long enough for Clint to depart as well before speaking.
“So, are you actually planning on punching Clint in the face or just imagining it?” Steve looked at her blankly.
“Nat? What’re you talking about?” He asked slowly.
“Oh please, don’t try and pretend you weren’t thinking about it. You’ve been practically drooling after Tony for the last few weeks, especially when he’s cleaning and doing all that bending and stretching,” she smirked and Steve felt his cheeks redden at her words.
“The glare you send Clint every time he says something to Tony is practically radiating ‘mine’ for the whole world to see. I’m actually a little amazed and embarrassed on his behalf that he hasn’t noticed you yet.” She frowned slightly.
“I’m not glaring.” Steve half-heartedly protested.
The look she gave him clearly started that she wasn’t about to believe such a blatant lie.
“Steve, that look could probably make villains cry in their spandex suits.” He knew it wasn’t right, but Steve couldn’t help the almost proud feeling that swelled in his chest at her words.
“Why don’t you just tell Tony how you feel? Or, at least, tell Clint to lay off the jokes if they’re upsetting you so much. He’s only doing it to get a rise out of Tony, anyway.” She continued; her words making Steve squirm uncomfortably in his seat.
“But, what if, I mean…” He took a deep breath before looking at her directly. “What if he doesn’t feel the same?” He asked quietly.
She sighed and picked up her cup of coffee, moving over to him to lay a hand on his shoulder briefly.
“Trust me, Steve. He likes you, a lot. Just ask him out for coffee.” Then she was walking from the room, leaving Steve alone in the kitchen with a crumpled newspaper and a pile of dust-free plates.
*
In the end, all it took was an offer of lunch at a burger joint and Tony was happily on board. Steve felt that it had been a bit too easy, but was reluctant to look a gift horse in the mouth. So in what Steve was privately positive was one of the best first dates to have ever happened – no awkward silences, uncomfortable moments or even Avengers calls – Steve found himself with a boyfriend and thus permission to ogle at the sight of said boyfriend whenever he wanted. Which he did want, numerous times each and every day.
The best discovery Steve made as Tony’s boyfriend, however, happened almost a month after they’d begun dating.
Steve had been in the kitchen, sitting at the table with his sketchpad in front of him and a pencil held loosely in his hand. He had a few lines on the thick drawing paper, but he’d found himself completely distracted by the man standing at the sink, once again doing dishes as he muttered away to himself about something Steve didn’t have a hope of understanding.
He wasn’t quite sure how, but Tony had managed to get a fair amount of dishwater over both the front and back of his black singlet, making the material cling to his back muscles in a way that was frankly delicious. His dark denim jeans were as tight as ever, streaked with black oil stains from when Tony had been down in the workshop before, half a handprint visible on his right ass cheek. That half a handprint was definitely a key factor in why Steve felt so warm all over, his own right hand twitching slightly with the desire to cover the half done stain with his own hand, feel the tight flesh underneath the material and squeeze it.
“Ah,” a voice from the kitchen entrance pulled Steve’s attention away from the sight before him, his eyes automatically narrowing into a glare at the sight of Clint.
“Hey, I haven’t even said anything!” The archer put up his hands innocently, having learnt his lesson by now that if Steve was around when Tony went into one of his cleaning frenzies, he shouldn’t blatantly hit on him as Steve’s glares were scary.
Steve opened his mouth, not yet sure if he was gong to tell the archer to go away or not, when Tony let out a happy sound and was moving across the kitchen to the exit, hands wiping on his dirty jeans and staining them black without a seconds thought.
Usually, Steve was happy to let Tony go down to the workshop and fix his problems with the newfound solution, but that half finished hand print just wouldn’t leave him alone and without another thought, Steve was up and out of his chair, grabbing his sketchbook and pencil before chasing after the genius.
Steve wasn’t quite quick enough to catch the lift before Tony was gone, but it was the work of a moment for JARVIS to bring back the lift for him and to go to the workshop, tap in his code and entre. The sight of Tony in full on invention mode, with holoscreens bathing him in blue light and a screwdriver in his right hand that he was using to enhance his gestures, was one Steve hoped to never forget.
To put it simply, it was breathtakingly beautiful.
Steve knew, if he hadn’t already been in love with Tony, that this would be the moment he fell completely, head over heels, mad about the boy, in love.
The sight was something he had to get down on paper immediately and he found his feeling of arousal not abate, so much as fade slightly to the back of his mind. Steve wasn’t sure there would ever come a time when he didn’t want Tony, body and mind, but this was certainly the first time Steve had ever wanted Tony for his soul. Because looking at the man before him, so full of manic energy and beauty, there was no other way to describe it but as a demonstration of Tony’s soul.
Moving around the space without taking his eyes off the other man, Steve sat down on a chair at a semi-clear worktop and began to sketch.
When Steve looked up some two hours later, having just finished adding highlight to Tony’s hair so that they matched the gentle play of light from the holoscreens surrounding him, Steve found the man in question listing to the side slightly, eyes half mast as he tried to stay awake.
Steve snorted to himself, putting down his drawing tool and moving over to Tony.
“JARIVS, can you pause all the stuff Tony’s working on, please?”
“Certainly, Captain.”
The workshop light dimmed for a moment before returning to a white light, the blue disappearing. Reaching out, Steve slipped his arms around the genius, resting his head on Tony’s shoulder and pressing a small kiss to the skin just under his ear.
“Mmm, Steve?” Tony murmured, hand coming up to grip at the hand Steve had rested on his stomach.
“Hey, let’s go to bed.” He pulled Tony closer, hugging him gently before moving away slightly, keeping the arm Tony was holding onto around him still, Steve began to steer them towards the elevator.
“You staying?” Tony asked quietly, leaning into Steve’s side, head pushed up under his chin and into his neck. No doubt getting all manner of grime all over Steve’s clothes.
“Yeah, I’m staying.” Steve chuckled quietly, charmed by the other mans behaviour.
“Good.”
*
Steve had been reading quietly on the couch when he was brought out of the magical world within his novel by the feeling of a hand sliding up his thigh. Lowering his book, Steve looked down to where Tony was kneeling in front of the couch before him; one hand paused halfway up his thigh and the other resting on Steve’s knee.
“Can I help you?” Steve raised his eyebrow, lips twitching upwards. Last he had seen Tony, the man had been sweeping in and out of the kitchen on a mission for coffee and had disappeared back down to the workshop with nothing more but a quick kiss.
“I thought you might be feeling lonely?” Tony’s smirk should be illegal.
Steve reached forward and placed his book down on the small coffee table before sitting back and pulling Tony with him, the other man willingly sliding up from the ground and sitting on his lap, one leg on either side of his hips and curious hands running up his chest.
“Terribly lonely,” Steve murmured, leaning over to suck a kiss onto Tony’s throat, hands moving down the genius’ body before resting on his ass, squeezing just hard enough to elect an excited puff of breath.
“Thought I’d come see you before I cleaned up the room,” the moan wasn’t entirely hidden in Tony’s voice as he dropped his head to the side to offer up more skin for Steve to bite and suck at, a possessive pleasure spiking down his spine at the thought of everyone seeing the marks on Tony’s throat.
“Love it when you’re bent over cleaning something, the way your ass looks is so fucking hot.” Steve grinned, kneading the flesh beneath his palms and delighting in the stuttered breath Tony took at his curse. The fact that Tony could almost cum from a few light touches and a load of swearing and dirty talk in his ear was something Steve absolutely loved about him.
“Keep talking.” Tony gasped, hands busy trying to get rid of their shirts at the same time.
“When you’re down on your hands and knees, ass in the air and just begging for me to touch it.” Tony groaned, finally succeeding in removing his own shirt and undoing all the buttons on Steve’s, pushing it down off his shoulders and rubbing his hands over his bare chest. Steve breathed in sharply when the other man pinched a nipple, grin on his face before he dove in and eased the sharp sting with his tongue.
“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” Steve pulled his shirt completely off, momentarily mourning the loss of Tony’s ass beneath his hands, before putting one hand back on a cheek, the other aimed at releasing the buttons on Tony’s jeans.
“My control, snapping,” Steve managed to flick open the button, pulling down the zip as he licked from Tony’s shoulder to ear where he sucked lightly on the lobe.
“Steve,” there was a definite breathlessness to Tony’s voice as he ran a hand through Steve’s hair while rocking his hips downward, both of them moaning when their cloth covered erections met.
“Just like this, fucking you out in the open where anyone could walk in on us.” Steve’s voice had lowered to an almost growl now, struggling slightly with trying to get Tony out of his clothes in their seated position.
After a moment, Steve let out an annoyed huff before surging to his feet, hands gripping Tony under his thighs as the genius keened, hands tightening around Steve’s neck. Turning around, Steve lowered Tony onto the couch before pulling roughly at his jeans and underwear until Tony was completely bare, cheeks flushed, chest rising and falling, legs parting willingly as his dark brown eyes stared up at Steve as if this was the only thing Tony had ever needed. Quickly undoing his own pants, Steve pushed away the unwanted clothing until he was nude as well before climbing onto the couch so that Tony could wrap his legs around his waist, Steve’s arms keeping him from crushing the smaller man as he immediately went back in for the delicious skin on Tony’s throat.
“Come on, Stevie, baby, come on.” Tony muttered, hands sweeping over Steve’s back and up into his hair, gripping tightly for a moment before going down again and finding his bum to squeeze.
Steve shifted his weight to one arm, pulling back so he could see Tony’s face as he traced a finger across the open seam of Tony’s lips before pushing it into the warm cavern, bitting his own lip at the feeling of the skilful tongue sliding over his finger.
“That’s it, baby, get it nice and wet.” Steve groaned loudly when Tony lightly bit at his digit. Leaning back in so that he was breathing directly into Tony’s ear, Steve whispered.
“Get my finger nice and wet, baby, ‘cos I’m going to push it so far into you, you’ll see stars.”
Tony’s mouth actually fell open at that, his eyes now fully dilated with lust and his hands tightening where their had found a home for the moment by clasping Steve’s biceps. Pulling his now soaking finger from the open mouth, Steve wasted no time in reaching down and easily slipping it behind Tony’s cock and balls, running it lightly up the space behind his balls before circling his hole.
“Do you want it, sweetheart? Tell me how much you want it.” Steve kissed along Tony’s jaw, panting slightly himself now.
“Please, Stevie, please. I want it, so much, please, baby, oh please.” Tony begged beautifully, head tilted up to encourage Steve back to his throat, hips stuttering with painfully resisted movement and thighs wide open for him – just for Steve.
Steve obliged, pushing his finger against Tony’s hole, having to hold back a groan at how easily it gave way to him, as if the body below him knew who he was and welcomed him back. Tony was always so hot, to tight and soft inside; it was enough to drive Steve insane. Then there were the noises Tony made, involuntary little hitches of breath and mewls of pleasure as Steve pushed his finger in to the knuckle.
“Steve,” Tony gasped loudly as the soldier pulled his finger mostly out before roughly shoving it back in, causing Tony to scoot up the couch.
“God, you’re so hot like this.” Steve moved back slightly so that he could see the expression on Tony’s face as he repeated the movement with his finger, the warmth in his gut almost exploding into a fire down to his toes at the expression of bliss on the other mans face.
“Please,” Tony gasped, fingers twitching each time Steve pushed his finger back into him, pushing as far as he possibly could so his other fingers were pressed tightly to Tony’s skin.
Steve knew he had to get up though, knew he couldn’t fuck the other man without lube, despite what Tony might try and convince him of while he was blissed out. He knew that doing it with just spit to ease the way would end up with Tony sore for days. Honestly, Steve wasn’t sure he could go through watching Tony in pain for days because of him, nor could he miss out on his daily sex quota that Tony was only too happy to fill.
Steve was about to get up and quickly run to their room for the lube when an idea hit him, something so hot his cock twitched at just the thought.
Pulling his finger from its warm cocoon, much to the distressed cry of the other man, Steve reached up for one of Tony’s hands, pulling it to his mouth and sucking down on one of his fingers before he could get a more coherent complaint than a whine from his throat. Tony’s huge brown eyes started up at him, locked on the sight of his finger in Steve’s mouth as Steve twisted his tongue around the digit like it was Tony’s cock.
When we was sure it was nice and wet, he pulled it from his mouth and guided Tony’s hand down and between his legs where Steve pushed the wet finger into the slightly loosened hole.
“Oh,” Tony moaned quietly, immediately going to pull his finger out and thrust.
But Steve held his wrist still; leaning over so that their noses were almost touching and he was sure he had at least 50% of Tony’s attention.
“Don’t move it.” He said firmly, waiting a moment before slowly releasing Tony’s wrist. The other man whined long and loud, but he didn’t move his hand, despite the fact Steve could physically see the muscles in Tony’s thighs and stomach twitching in desperation. Leaning back fully now, Steve pushed Tony’s legs upwards so that he could see where Tony’s own finger disappeared up into himself.
Unable to resist, Steve reached out with the same finger as before and traced the edge where the skin was stretched around Tony’s finger. Pushing slowly, the tight, warm skin slowly stretched to encompass the tip of Steve’s now dry finger, Tony making a loud moaning sound the whole while. Glancing up, Steve smirked at the sight of Tony’s head once more thrown back, neck now stained red with bite marks and slightly shiny with a combination of sweat and spit.
“So good for me, baby.” Steve said quietly, enjoying the way the flush deepened on Tony’s skin at his words. Pulling his finger away, Steve grabbed Tony’s right leg and pulled it as far up to Tony’s chest as it would go, taking Tony’s right hand that had been gripping the couch when Steve had moved away, he securely made Tony hold his own leg high before swooping in for a quick, hard kiss to Tony’s lips.
“Don’t move. I want you to stay like this while I grab the lube.” Without waiting for a response, Steve was up and off the couch, uncaring for his nudity and ignoring the way his erect cock bounced slightly at the movement. He almost ran to their bedroom, pulling out the side draw and grabbing the half empty tube before returning to Tony, not even bothering to close the draw behind him.
When he arrived back in front of the couch, Steve had to grip the base of his cock with his free hand to stop himself from coming there and then at the sight before him.
Tony was still laying where Steve had left him, left leg bent and leaning against the back of the couch, right pulled up to his chest and held with a slightly trembling hand. His left hand was between his legs, wrist pressed alongside his cock and precome smeared across his forearm and stomach. He had one finger shoved up inside himself, as still as it could be with his breathing forcing his arm to shift and his finger to ever so slightly thrust in and out of his hole with each breath. From the way Steve had positioned him, Tony was on display to any who walked past, from his flushed and leaking cock, to his greedy little hole that begged for something to fuck up into it – hard.
Tony let out a moan as his eyes half focused on Steve, cheeks now fully flushed.
“Steve, please, I was good, please, fuck me, please, Stevie.” Tony begged, voice sounding wrecked.
God, Steve really must have done something good in another life to deserve this. Not wasting another moment, Steve climbed onto the couch between Tony’s legs, unscrewing the cap of the lube as he did so. Squeezing out a generous amount onto his fingers, he placed the tube on Tony’s sternum, amused despite himself at the action, before delivering another quick, hard kiss to Tony’s panting mouth.
“Remember what I said, don’t move.” He ordered, a shiver of delight running up his spine when Tony groaned.
Sitting down now, Steve could watch as he rubbed along the side of Tony’s hole before beginning to push one finger inside along with the one already there. With the lube, the process was fairly quick and something sparked in Steve as he felt Tony’s inner walls clamp down on both his finger and Tony’s own. As fast as he could without hurting the other man, Steve pressed another finger into him, then another. When Tony was stretched tight around three of Steve’s fingers and one of his own, hand trembling and small keening sounds coming from his throat on each exhale, Steve paused.
The idea of fucking Tony when he still had his finger within himself, the depravity of it licked at a fire within Steve’s gut that he hadn’t even been aware existed. Looking up at the flushed cheeks and heavily leaking cock, though, Steve decided to save that particular fantasy for another day.
Gently pulling free his fingers, Steve added more lube to his hand before dropping the tube off the side of the couch and stroking his cock so it was sufficiently covered. Reaching down, Steve slowly pulled Tony’s hand away, his finger shinny from the excess lube Steve had used. Moving closer, Steve released the badly shaking right hand from holding Tony’s leg, allowing both legs to hook over his shoulders and Tony’s hands to grasp tightly in Steve’s hair, his breath ragged.
“Steve, please… baby, please.” Tony rambled, looking like he didn’t even know what he was saying anymore.
“That’s right, I got you sweetheart, I got you.” Steve peppered his face with tender kisses for a moment, resting his weight on one arm so he could reach down and position himself at the stretched pucker of Tony’s hole.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard you pass out.” Steve promised, Tony’s response being lost in a loud groan as Steve pushed up and into him, the delicious slide and warmth forcing him to pause when he bottomed out to just breath for a moment.
“Fuck!” Tony gasped finally, hands tight in Steve’s hair.
Gasping on his own laugh, Steve grinned.
“That’s the idea.” He agreed, before pulling out slowly so only the head remained inside, enjoying the torturous feel of it for a moment.
“Steve, come on, fuck me for fucks sake. Come on!” Tony grumbled when he deemed Steve to have taken too long. Steve slid his arms around so that they were slightly underneath Tony and he could hook his hands up and around Tony’s shoulders, thus preventing the genius from moving anyway and giving Steve leverage for when he delivered on his promise.
Without further ado, Steve shoved back up into Tony’s body, forcing the air from the other mans lungs. There was little in the world Steve loved more than this right here, pounding away into Tony’s body and listening to the man’s exhilarated gasps and moans as he tried to form words but lost them as they tried to escape his mouth. Licking and biting at Tony’s salty skin, Steve gasped as Tony’s hands moved from his hair to grip and rub against his shoulders and back, his short nails raking up Steve’s back, the light wounds stinging with sweat. The feel of Tony’s hot cock against his abs with every thrust from where it was trapped between their bodies only turned him on more.
Finally, after what felt like hours and seconds in turn, Steve heard the tell-tail series of ‘ohs’ that signalled Tony’s imminent completion.
Making sure to grip Tony’s shoulders tightly, Steve used the leverage to fuck up hard into the willing body below him, his thighs burning with excursion and his breath coming in through hot gasps of air.
A few more thrusts and Tony suddenly tensed beneath him, arms and legs locking as warm, stickiness bloomed where Steve’s abs had been rubbing against Tony’s cock. Steve didn’t stop his thrusts, keeping them hard and brutal as Tony’s body trembled with orgasm. He did pull back slightly through, just enough that he could see the pure ecstasy written across Tony’s face, his eyes unseeing at the ceiling and his mouth hanging open, sweat running down his face and hair plastered to his forehead. The sight of Tony so blissed out was enough to push Steve over the edge and he shoved up into Tony as hard and as far as he could.
The two stayed still for a long moment, chests rising and falling rapidly as they fought to catch their breath. Steve finally pushed himself up slightly from where he had been breathing against Tony’s shoulder, looking down at the closed eyes of the genius. Leaning in, he gently kissed the side of his mouth, unable to keep the smile off his face when he pulled back and saw an answering one on Tony’s face.
“Hey, baby.” Steve whispered.
“Hi,” Tony’s voice was still rough, as if he’d overtaxed his throat.
“You’re not unconscious.” Steve teased lightly.
“Giv’ us a m’ment.” Tony almost seemed to sink into the couch a little more, breath now evening out and moving towards the familiar rhythm of sleep.
Chuckling, Steve gently pulled out from Tony, the other man letting out a small noise of protest. Pushing himself up and off the couch, Steve stretched as he stood up before looking down at his partner fondly. Tony’s eyes were mostly shut, his legs still splayed obscenely.
“Come on, sweetheart, let’s get to bed.” Steve said quietly, reaching down and scooping up the other man, enjoying how sleepily affectionate in the afterglow Tony was, wrapping one arm up and around Steve’s neck while the other slipped around his back. Holding the love of his life in his arms like a new bride, Steve couldn’t help placing a gentle kiss on messy black hair.
Walking down to their bedroom, Steve was thankful for JARVIS as the AI silently opened and closed their door, bringing a warm glow to the bedroom without prompting. Steve carefully deposited Tony on the large bed, disappearing into the bathroom for a moment to get a washcloth to somewhat clean him up. Task done, he pulled a blanket up from the bottom of the bed to cover him rather than attempt to pull out the quilt from under the unhelpful body. Quickly cleaning his own stomach, Steve moved around the bed and climbed in next to his lover, Tony immediately reaching for him and rolling onto his side, pulling Steve’s arm over so that he could tangle their fingers together.
As they settled down together, Steve pressing close and relaxing with Tony safely in his arms, Tony mumbled incoherently.
“What?” Steve asked, tilting his head up so that both ears were free.
“Said, you’re bet’r ‘n cleanin’.” Tony murmured, sighing happily.
Steve stared incredulously at the back of Tony’s head for a moment.
“Did you want to have sex just to try and work out a solution to one of your engineering problems?”
“F’r science.” Was all Tony said before he started to softly snore.
Steve wasn’t sure if he should laugh or be annoyed with the idiot.
In the end, he just shook his head, a smile unbidden to his lips before he lay back down and cuddled the genius closer.
Tony may be an unusual person, but Steve wouldn’t change him for the world.
Or the cleaning thing.
That was hot.