Work Text:
Tony woke in a golden haze of sunshine. He felt soft and syrupy and slow as he gradually became aware. A long line of heat was pressed into his back and he was curled into something firm and warm. It was a leg he realized as he blinked his eyes open. Steve was sitting up, reading while Tony used Steve's thigh as a pillow. That meant the warmth pressed along his spine was probably Bucky.
“Good morning,” Tony blinked up at Steve, who was grinning softly down at him.
"Lazy bones," Bucky rumbled affectionately. The warm breath against Tony's neck made him shiver.
"'m not lazy, you're comfy," Tony protested.
Tony could feel sleep still dragging at him and he knew he’d be asleep again if he let it. The mellow post-play feelings hadn’t faded yet, and this cozy heavy drowsiness was a rare enough feeling that he wanted to indulge it.
Steve’s hand settled onto Tony’s head, rubbing his scalp absently and Tony let that carry him back to sleep.
He was alone when he woke up the second time. He had half-memories of explanations of food and bathroom, and looking at the clock he supposed that was fair. Noon already. If he slept any longer he’d be up all night and they had Opinions about bedtime. So Tony dragged himself out of bed and headed to the living room, still sleep rumpled but it was Brunch. It was supposed to be rumpled.
He was stopped suddenly when he saw the books piled on the kitchen table.
--
“Pick up the book, Tony.” Tony looked at the book on the floor with trepidation, looked at Steve for mercy and got none. Tony had another balanced on his head, and he bit back a whine as he clenched down on the sliver of ginger in his ass as he tried to prepare to not drop the book on his head or lose the plug.
The clenching made the ginger burn hotter, but it was just a tease of a plug, and was challenging enough to keep in place while they sent him to the kitchen for water, then snacks, then more water. This might be his undoing. He started to kneel, froze as he felt it slip.
“Having troubles?” Steve’s voice was amused.
Tony flushed, not wanting to admit it but knowing he’d be in more trouble if he dropped anything. “Yes sir.”
“You can’t pick up a book?”
“I’ll lose the ginger.”
“So you can’t pick up a book.”
“I can’t pick up the book without losing the ginger.”
“You can’t pick up the book,” Steve pressed.
Tony’s face felt hot. He didn’t need to be perfect all the time, he just really wanted to. “I can’t pick up the book.”
“Then come over here and let me help you.”
Tony carefully made his way over to Steve, let him take the book off his head with a sense of failure, and then let him bend Tony over his lap. The ginger was unceremoniously removed and discarded, then a thicker bulging piece was pushed in.
Tony hissed and writhing at the fresh heat, then whimpered and blushed as Steve’s hand came down again and again until both sets of cheeks were burning as hot as his ass.
“Okay,” Steve leaned back, and Tony carefully stood again. “Pick up the book.”
--
“Something wrong, Tony?” Steve asked.
“What?” Tony blinked himself back to the present. “No. Just need-” Tony groped around for something, anything other than a spanking, to be fucked, to suck… “Coffee. I need coffee.”
Bucky pointed to the steaming mug sitting next to the books. Tony snatched it up, inhaling the rich scent and hoping it would kick start his brain out of the smutty rut of memories it had fallen into.
“You wanna pick up those books, and help clear the table?” Bucky said casually, as if he was entirely unaware what they had done with them last night. Maybe he didn’t realize. Maybe this thrumming tension was all just on Tony. Flushing slightly, Tony scooped the books off the table and tucked them away on the bookshelf.
Returning to the table, Tony sat down gingerly, squirming a little to get comfortable as his bruised ass made contact with the firm chair. It wasn’t helping clear his mind.
Tony cleared his throat, “So what’s on the menu?”
“Stevie’s experimenting with a themed menu.” Bucky settled in across from Tony, turning slightly to make sure he was heard through the passthrough to where Steve was puttering in the kitchen.
“Getting fancy are you?” Tony grinned.
“Gotta keep you in the style to which you’re accustomed,” Steve called from the kitchen. “With your multi-course tasting menus, and experimental cuisine.”
“This is brunch!” Tony called back, relieved to fall into some normal banter. “As long as there’s carbs and some kind of decorative fruit we’re covered.”
Steve appeared in the doorway, grinning and holding a wooden board loaded with mounds of cut fruit, ”I wouldn’t dare disappoint.”
He set the tray down in front of Tony. “Have a fig. They’re very fresh.”
--
“You ever wanted to try figging Tony?”
He still couldn’t get past how everything sounded extra filthy when coming from Captain America’s mouth.
--
Tony cleared his throat, feeling the heat of arousal burning low in his gut. “Thanks.” His voice almost sounded normal. He was very proud of himself. “What else is coming?”
Maybe if he knew what was coming, he could prepare himself.
“Not a whole lot. There’s a local jam and fresh scones which should be ready soon. Baked french toast is the main,” Steve rattled off. That didn’t sound too bad.
“Virgin cocktails.” Bucky said, jerking up like he’d just remembered they existed. He disappeared into the kitchen briefly then returned, pitcher in one hand.
“Virgin?” Tony asked.
“We want you clear headed,” Bucky purred.
And that sounded as filthy as anything Tony had ever heard. How did they keep doing that? He reached for the drink Bucky set in front of him, distracted, and almost choked at the scent of ginger hit him.
--
He was bent over the table, head almost in the pile of ginger shavings. The scent was rich and heady. He could see the pile of plugs they’d carved but right now he was more focused on Steve pounding in behind him, and it was good, so good. Bucky had already had his turn, Tony was just heat and wanting and cursing (and loving) the damned cock ring and their damned ‘rules’ about ‘not coming without permission’ (and wanting wanting wanting to do anything they asked of him.)
“Gotta get in here before we ruin you,” he grunted. “Don’t want any ginger in my dick.”
--
Tony wondered how he was going to survive this meal with Steve and Bucky conspiring against him. It had to be intentional. But maybe they were just using the leftovers? They did occasionally show their roots around food waste. He realized he’d drank half the mocktail on automatic, lowered the glass and find Bucky and Steve looking at him expectantly.
“Huh?” he said, flatfooted like he’d never had a moment of media training in his life.
“I asked, how do you like the drink?” Bucky said, and was that a knowing tone or just Bucky being courteous?
Tony could feel his cheeks start to flush. “Yeah, it’s good. Very good.”
“Yeah, you were,” Steve purred. And before Tony could really take that in a timer went off and both Steve and Bucky stood up. Tony carefully put down his drink, placed his hands flat on the table, feeling it’s solidity and breathed very carefully, willing the rising heat to settle.
“How’s the french toast?” He heard Steve ask Bucky from the kitchen.
“It’s still got a little wiggle,” Bucky responded, “it’ll need a couple more minutes.”
--
They had graduated to a piece of ginger that was definitely secure in his ass. Tony squirmed as he walked across the room to fetch a fresher glass of water.
“That’s a nice wiggle.” Bucky drawled. Tony blushed.
“Come on over here, let’s reward that.”
Tony didn’t run to Bucky, but definitely hurried. He let Bucky manipulate him until he was standing perpendicular to where Bucky was sitting forward in his chair. Bucky set his metal hand up, curled gently around Tony’s cock, then locked it into position then smacked Tony’s ass with the other hand. The upward arc of the strike caused a distinct jiggling sensation but there was still enough forward movement that Tony’s hips jerked forward into Bucky’s fist.
Tony gasped from the combined sensations of the heat and the sting and the cool slide on his cock.
--
“Scones are done. They’ll have to do us until it’s ready.”
Tony had almost gotten himself under control while Steve and Bucky were in the kitchen, but he lost it again when Bucky innocently nudged the jam and scones he’d brought out towards Tony. “It’s fig and ginger. Sweet and hot. It’s delicious.”
--
“Do you wanna come, sweetheart? I like you desperate and wanting like that, but I love it when you beg. You’d do anything for me now wouldn’t you?”
Bucky leaned forward, licked delicately at Tony’s cock and Tony almost convulsed, would have if Steve hadn’t been holding him in place. The ginger, the spanking, the teasing, he felt like he was ready to explode.
“Please let me come. Please please. You’re so good to me. You make me feel so good. Please, please. I- please. Please can I come.”
“Aww you’re so sweet when you beg.“ Bucky sat back on his heels, blatantly leering as he looked up Tony’s body. “Sweet and hot.”
Then Bucky swallowed him down.
--
Tony squirmed, then hissed as the movement just awakened the old bruises again. He helped himself to a scone in an attempt to distract himself and the jam really was delicious. He grabbed another and let Steve and Bucky’s casual banter wash over him. He still wanted them, wanted to drag them into bed and have his way with them, but maybe he could manage to get through the meal like a normal human.
But then the timer went off and the french toast was done. Steve came out juggling a little pitcher of rich looking creamy sauce, along with the casserole dish. The sauce tilted, almost to spilling as Steve set the larger dish down in front of Tony. The rich ginger scent rose in the steam and Tony stared, mesmerized, as Steve swiped up the drip that trembled on the lip of the pitcher with his finger. Steve held Tony’s gaze as he licked the white drop delicately off his finger. Then the fucker winked.
Tony gave up, collapsed down with his head in his arms, and groaned, warm laughter surrounding him.
Steve planted a kiss on the back of Tony’s neck. “This is what you get for sleeping in and not being here for menu planning.”
Tony was never going to be able to eat ginger in public again.