Chapter Text
“You ready?” Steve asked.
“Come on, Cap. When am I not ready to blast some bad guys?”
Steve heard a repulsor whirring to life somewhere over his shoulder. Trusting Tony to cover his back, Steve tightened his grip on the shield, took a deep breath, and kicked the door in.
Steve advanced into the room while shielding himself and Tony, the Iron Man suit bathing everything in a familiar blue light, and—
Nothing. The room was nearly empty: abandoned. What little furniture remained made it clear that this used to be some kind of greenhouse and not the top secret weapons development facility SHIELD had told them it was.
“Well, that was anticlimactic,” Tony said, repulsors powering down. “J, scan for weapons, computers, secret panels—any tech that's not where it's supposed to be. Hell, throw in another thermal scan of the building, in case we missed some HYDRA goons creeping around.”
“As you wish, Sir," JARVIS' voice echoed from the armor's speakers.
“I don’t think there’s anything here,” Steve said. “Looks like bad intel.”
He took another glance around the room. There were plants lined up on desks along one of the walls, though most of them were wilted. A few office chairs and desks were scattered around, with broken computer screens and lab equipment lying on the floor. The most advanced technology remaining in the room seemed to be the high-powered lamps hanging above the plant section.
“Fuck,” Tony said, popping the faceplate of the armor, “This isn’t an evil HYDRA lair; it’s a goddamn weed farm.”
“Tony,” Steve chastised.
“I mean it's clearly not cannabis—oh come on, don't give me that look, you went to art school,'' Tony said, and Steve didn't protest. “But, damn. All this trouble just for a couple fugly office plants?”
They should have probably been happy that there was nothing nefarious going on. But even Steve was feeling a little bummed: he'd been prepared for battle, and with the anticlimactic revelation it was like all his adrenaline had nowhere to go.
Though it was Tony who had been the most invested in this raid. Even if his name hadn’t come up, it only took the words “weapons development” for him to tense up during Hill's mission brief. And Steve couldn’t blame him: bad guys worldwide had an uncanny ability of getting their hands on Stark tech and twisting it into something evil.
“Well, this was a waste of time,” Tony said, kicking a beaker on the floor. “What an utterly stupid, inconsequential way to spend a Wednesday afternoon. Does Fury think I don't have anything better to do? Seriously, Pep's gonna have my head for canceling that seminar again.”
Steve ignored Tony's complaints and turned to leave. “We should report back.”
“I mean, we could take some samples of these,” Tony said, approaching the plants. “Get Bruce a souvenir so he doesn’t Hulk out while we bitch at Fury. You know, make this mission not a complete waste of Avengers time and resources?"
“SHIELD can do the grunt work,” Steve said. He frowned at the sight of Tony leaning over one of the plants; something felt off, but he couldn't pinpoint the cause. “Don't touch anything. Let’s just go.”
“Maybe HYDRA's distilling the plants for some kinda super-evil-but-really-just-mildly-inconvenient poison elsewhere?” Tony kept going, not even listening. “Or, Jesus, even worse, what if some hare-brained aspiring scientist was inspired by good ol’ pal Killian's work—”
And that was when Tony, the most intelligent man Steve had met in his life, touched one of the mystery plants like an idiot.
Immediately, one of the flower buds burst open and spewed pollen right in Tony's face.
“Tony!”
Steve leapt across the room, tackling a coughing Tony away from the worst of it. But the armor was heavier than he anticipated and in the scuffle, they bumped into a table and even more flowers erupted into a thick cloud. Steve couldn't help inhaling the substance but he shoved his hand over Tony's mouth and dragged him away.
“Tony!" Steve called out. "God, are you okay?”
Steve’s throat felt dry and he blinked pollen from his irritated eyes. Yet it was nothing compared to Tony: he looked like he could barely stay upright much less breathe, even now that they were out of the thick of it and Steve had a hand on his shoulders to steady him.
“I, uh, agh,” Tony coughed, tears in his eyes.
“Hold on,” Steve said. “I’ll get you out of here. Please, just hold on.”
“I think I figured it out,” Tony wheezed. “They were—they weren't using my tech. They were making bioweapons.”
Tony erupted into another coughing fit and Steve’s heart sank into his stomach.
Tony got exposed to a HYDRA bioweapon. Now, he was hacking his lungs out—what if he choked, or it hit his nervous system? What if he went blind or died? God, why did he have to touch the damn flower!?
Tony coughed violently and then spit out a glob of pollen goo. He followed it up with a raspy breath, his face red—since the faceplate had offered no protection, because rather than stay safe Tony had raised it like a dumbass.
Focus, Steve chastised himself. He could berate Tony later; for now, he just needed him safe.
“Tony, we have to go,” Steve said, forcing his voice to be level. “There might still be traces of the poison in the air, and we can’t have you get more exposed.”
“I’m—I’m fine. I think.” Tony rubbed his eyes, then blinked them open. “J, scan my vitals, would you?”
“Your pulse is elevated and there is breathlessness and low oxygen from the coughing, but your blood is clear of toxins, Sir.”
Steve breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe they were wrong; maybe these were just regular flowers, and the worst Tony was left with was a runny nose.
“Sir, I don't wish to alarm you," JARVIS added. "But your body temperature appears to be rising at an abnormal rate."
“Shit,” Tony said. “Now that you mention it, it’s getting a little stuffy in this armor.”
“Stuffy?” Steve said. “Tony, what’s going on?”
“I feel…” Tony grimaced and reached a hand over his shoulder. “Antsy. Itchy. This isn't—wow, this really isn’t good. Reminds me of spring break in '86, when me and Rhodey had a really bad acid trip. Have I told you about that? What am I saying, of course I haven't—"
“Your heart rate is continuing to increase," JARVIS interrupted. "I fear an allergic reaction to the unidentified substance is taking place."
“Fuck," Tony commented. "Get me outta this armor.”
“What?" Steve balked. "Come on, we've gotta go—”
Steve choked on the rest of his sentence when the armor hissed open and Tony stepped out. He was wearing nothing but his form-fitting black undersuit: the one that left nothing to the imagination, though Steve had spent an embarrassing amount of time picturing just what lay underneath.
Steve shook his head. Keep your head on straight, soldier.
“JARVIS, send the—” Steve started.
“God, it's hot in here,” Tony said. “It’s not just me, right? It's like a sauna in here.”
And that was the point that Tony apparently decided to start stripping: unzipping the second skin of the underarmor like from one of Steve’s numerous fantasies and shrugging off the top half, exposing broad shoulders and tanned skin.
“Captain Rogers?” JARVIS prompted.
“Right," Steve croaked, then cleared his throat and said, "Send the Avengers alarm."
“Very good.”
“Jesus, fuck, I’m sweating bullets here,” Tony said, and he was panting now, his chest naked and sweaty, and Steve—
Steve stared.
It was still weird to see Tony without the arc reactor. Steve knew it meant he was healthy, which was amazing, but there was something beautiful about the reactor: like a physical reminder of Tony's genius.
Not that Tony wasn't beautiful like this, too. The mess of scars and sparse hair on his chest took nothing away from how utterly sinful he looked: skin flushed and chest heaving, with dark nipples, firm muscle, and a slight softness around his waist.
"That's…that's better, gotta love that nice, cool, secret-HYDRA-lair air," Tony babbled. His eyes were hazy, like he was no longer even registering that Steve was there. "But—but, fuck, it's still so hot, everything, everything's burning and I just…"
Tony groaned, and his hips jerked, making an aborted thrust into the air. Steve's gaze followed the movement, and, wow, the undersuit really left nothing to the imagination.
Tony was hard, straining against the tight fabric of his pants. Steve’s neck flushed hot and he quickly averted his eyes: Tony was in pain, and his body was simply confused. This was no time for Steve to act on his repressed feelings.
Unfortunately, Tony only now seemed to notice his own arousal and immediately dropped a hand down over his pants.
“Oh, god,” Tony moaned. "That's so good, holy shit."
Tony closed his eyes and started palming himself shamelessly through the thin fabric. And Steve just watched, horrified and aroused, as his friend massaged his dick in front of Steve in the middle of a mission and holy hell, how was this real?
Just then, something clicked into place in Steve’s brain and he suddenly knew exactly what was happening.
“Tony—Tony, listen to me. I think you were drugged,” Steve said, managing to keep the rising panic out of his voice. “We need to get you out of here. JARVIS?”
“I have contacted the Avengers. Miss Romanoff gives an ETA of thirty-three minutes and requests that you stay in your position.”
“No, that’s not… we need to get him out! Come on, Tony!”
Rather than listen to Steve, Tony just kept masturbating, which decidedly was not helping.
“Tony, you have to listen!” Steve grabbed Tony by his shoulders.
The moment Steve's hands made contact with Tony's flushed skin, the reaction was instantaneous.
Tony jerked and looked at Steve like a man starved. And Steve had seen a lot of articles and interviews of Tony posing with a smirk and seductive eyes, but the infamous Tony Stark take me to bed look had never been directed at him before.
Yet right now, Tony's pupils were blown wide and his eyes were half-lidded, ogling Steve like he wanted to eat him.
"Steve," Tony breathed, like his name was a revelation. "Oh, god, Steve."
And, fuck, Steve was strong, stronger than almost anyone else, but for Tony he'd always been weak. He could feel his resolve crumbling by the second under that heated gaze.
But...Tony was compromised. Tony didn't truly want this; he'd never looked at Steve like this when he was in his right mind, and he was only moaning Steve's name because of the drug.
"I...I don’t know what’s happening." Tony swallowed. "But I need to come—god, you don’t understand how much I need to. Please, please make me come, Steve, you have to, I—I can't."
Tony sounded pained and he clutched Steve’s arm like a lifeline.
Steve's hands were trembling as he tried to hold himself back. Desire thrummed through his body. It had been so long since Steve had felt like this that he briefly wondered if he'd been affected by the pollen too.
But he knew that wasn't true. He felt aroused, yes, and high-strung from worry, but he was still in full control of his body. The serum made him immune to almost anything—it had probably burned through the drug in seconds—and everything that Steve felt was simply because of Tony.
Tony made an impatient sound in his throat and squeezed Steve's biceps almost painfully. And that was when Steve made up his mind.
"Okay," Steve said. "Okay, let me take care of you."
He already knew he'd regret this later. But if the alternative was to keep Tony in pain, well, Steve would gladly bear the consequences of his actions.
"Thank you," Tony sighed, sounding genuinely relieved as he let go of the death grip on Steve's arms. "Thank you, thankyouthankyouthankyou."
Steve nodded stiffly and discarded his gloves before reaching for the hem of his uniform.
"You have no idea, fuck, my body's just..." Tony kept blabbering. "I've never felt like this, like—hnng."
The guttural sound Tony made once Steve's shirt came off was enough to make him flush all the way down to his now-exposed chest. Though Steve had aimed to get undressed efficiently and clinically, his stripping appeared to be arousing Tony even more.
Steve carelessly flung the shirt to the side and as soon as he did, there were hands grabbing at his shoulders and a very warm, still very shirtless Tony pressing up against his half-naked body.
"Oh my god," Tony said. "Oh my fucking god, we're really doing this. I get to—I really get to touch you."
He sounded awed as he looked down between their shirtless chests, where Steve's bigger torso pressed up against Tony's lithe muscle. Tony's hands slid down, and—
Tony squeezed Steve's pecs and Steve bit back a shamefully eager moan.
"Fuck," Tony groaned. He pressed his face against Steve’s neck, panting hot and open-mouthed against the skin. "Shit, fuck, I'm so hard, and you're so—so hot, Jesus, how are you this hot?"
Tony was almost sobbing from arousal. His dick pressed against Steve's thigh, indeed hard enough that Steve actually worried Tony was going to come like this.
"Tony, hey, it’s okay," Steve said, trying to keep his tone soothing. "Let's get you out of that suit, yeah? You don't look very comfortable."
Tony's breath shuddered against Steve's neck before he managed a jerky nod. Steve carefully slipped his hands inside Tony's undersuit, still bunched up around his waist, and pulled it down.
"Good—that's good. Ease up a little?" Steve said.
Steve gently loosened Tony's grip on him so he could crouch and help Tony step out of his pants. Tony's cock bobbed hard and red in front of Steve's face and he flushed and quickly sat back on his heels to gauge Tony's situation.
Tony was already looking at him, trembling like a leaf. He was also naked, and gorgeous and, god, Steve wanted to do so many unspeakable things to him.
So Steve grabbed Tony by the back of his unsteady legs and leaned back, and then they were falling, until Steve's back hit the cold concrete floor and Tony was straddling him.
"What—what just happened.'' Tony blinked, like he hadn't even registered the movement.
"I, uh." Steve swallowed. "Wanted us to get more comfortable."
I've been fantasizing about you on top of me for the last year, he strategically left out.
"What…oh,'' Tony said, finally seeming to notice the half-naked Captain America flushed and pliant under him. "Oh, god, Steve, you look…"
Tony didn't finish the sentence, opting instead to grind down against Steve with a filthy moan. Steve bit back any noise of his own, watching as Tony's cock slid hard and slick over his abs.
"You're so hot," Tony said. "Beautiful, sexy, gorgeous, I—fuck, you're so hot, it's not fair."
Tony was panting and touching Steve all over: palming his abs and biceps, running callused fingers over Steve’s collarbones and shoulders. His speech was getting more incoherent by the minute, and Steve should probably be more worried about that, about Tony losing whatever wits he still had about him to the drug.
Instead, Steve's cock throbbed in his pants and his heart fluttered happily from Tony's mindless praise.
"You, uh. You too," Steve shot back lamely.
Rather than react to Steve's lackluster compliment, Tony chose to start massaging Steve’s pecs.
"Um." Steve said, not sure how to react to that.
“Oh, wow,” Tony said, squeezing the muscles. “Jesus, you’re built like a god. Fuck, they should make…make statues, dedicated to your pecs—America's pecs.”
Steve wasn't too thrilled with the idea, but at least Tony was talking more, and his strange massage felt kind of...good.
“Th….thanks?" Steve said.
"Mmm," Tony commented, and then pushed his pecs together.
The simple action made Steve fidget in both embarrassment and arousal. Tony really liked his chest, huh?
“Oh,” Tony made a sound of awe, kneading Steve’s pecs and licking his lips. “Can we—can I...?”
Tony was already shuffling up, his leaking cock bobbing over Steve's chest and making his intentions known loud and clear.
Oh; Tony really liked Steve's pecs.
"Yeah," Steve heard himself say. "God, yes, Tony—anything."
He barely got the words out before Tony’s dick slid into the crevice of Steve's pecs, and Steve's brain scrambled to decide whether he should be embarrassed or moan from arousal.
"Shit—fuck, this…" Tony panted. "Christ, Steve, your tits."
Steve swallowed a hot flash of shame and watched Tony set a rhythm thrusting between his pecs. It was filthy, the way Tony's cock disappeared between the mounds and then popped up at the top, the head red and leaking.
Steve had never done anything like this before: hadn't even considered his body could be used this way. He’d heard crass jokes about women doing this, but it had sounded unappealing or at the very least uncomfortable.
This was far from uncomfortable. Tony was leaking like a faucet, quickly coating the space between Steve's pecs in slick precum and making the slide wet and easy, and Steve would happily stay here for hours if it meant making Tony feel good.
“Steve, fuck, Steve,” Tony moaned, reaching for one of Steve’s hands. “Hold—hold them together for me. Nice and tight, yeah?”
Steve’s ears burned with how red his face must have been. “Like this?”
He grabbed his pecs and squeezed them together around Tony’s cock, just like Tony had done.
“Oh, fuck, yes,” Tony moaned, thrusting between Steve’s pecs with renewed vigor. “Just like that, god, that’s a amazing—so tight, so good, so fucking good.”
Steve never thought anyone would enjoy this so much. He didn't know he would enjoy this so much, but as he watched Tony’s face go slack with pleasure, felt his slick cock fuck desperately in the cleft of his pecs, Steve’s neglected erection throbbed in his pants behind Tony’s undulating body.
It was humiliating, in a way, presenting himself for Tony this way and having Tony shamelessly use him for his own pleasure; but it was a good kind of shame, the kind that made Steve shiver and flush all over.
But then Tony, hands now free to do as he pleased, pinched Steve's nipples and Steve was done for.
“Oh, god,” Tony moaned. “Steve, your tits—your tits are fucking fantastic. I've always wanted to...to do this to you. You're so sensitive—feels good when I do this, doesn't it?”
Steve moaned and twitched under Tony's hands. Yes, his nipples were sensitive, embarrassingly so, and it had always been a point of insecurity. But Tony didn't seem to mind: his entire being radiated lust, and he was rock hard between Steve's pecs, looking down at Steve like Steve was his entire world—
Tony twisted his nipples hard and that was it; Steve came, a startled yell punching out of him as his hips lifted off the floor and he shot untouched into his combat pants.
Through the blinding pleasure, Steve tried his best to keep his pecs pressed together for Tony, to make it good for him. Dazed from his orgasm, he still kept looking at Tony, at his hard cock and wild eyes.
“Holy shit, you...you came?" Tony said, wide-eyed. "You came just from your tits, oh, sweetheart, you're so good, so sexy, this is so much better than I ever imagined, I—fuck, Steve!”
Tony came with a loud groan, painting Steve’s chest in messy spurts, some of it landing on his neck and even his chin. Steve moaned with him through it even as the finality of the situation started to set in.
This was it. Now it was over, and they only had to wait for the others—
“Fuck,” Tony said. "It's not working."
Steve looked down only to see Tony still hard. Which wasn't unusual for Steve's serum-enhanced body: he could usually go a good three or four times in a row, but…
Tony was only human. Tony was a normal man, at a mature age, and his cock definitely shouldn't stay rock solid after just coming his brains out.
“Why,'' Tony nearly sobbed. “Fuck, I'm so hard it hurts.”
Steve watched Tony's face twist in pain; watched him writhe on top of Steve in clear discomfort, and had a silent battle with himself.
Steve knew he bore full responsibility for the situation. Tony was practically incapacitated, drugged out of his mind, while Steve remained immune and fully conscious of his actions.
It was bad enough that Steve had allowed it to go this far. He should have suggested that Tony settle down and wait for backup to arrive or, worst case scenario, Steve would forcibly carry him out of this place.
But at the same time, Steve wanted. He'd wanted Tony for so very long and now that he had him, however briefly, he didn't know if he was strong enough to resist. Because watching Tony suffer was worse than the pain of any battle wound or asthma attack Steve had ever had to endure. He might not be what Tony wanted, but at this moment, maybe he was what Tony needed.
It was a flimsy excuse, but it made Steve feel a little better when he gripped Tony's thighs and said, “Fuck me.”
“I did,” Tony whined. “I did, and it was amazing, but I...I need more.”
“No, Tony. Fuck. Me,” Steve said.
Because of the drug, Tony's genius brain was slower than usual to catch up. But when he did, his eyes went wide and he let out a quiet gasp.
“You—you'd let me?" Tony asked breathlessly. "Shit, Steve; you mean you’d really let me…?”
Deciding that actions might get the point across better than words, Steve wordlessly lifted Tony off his lap and shucked off his uniform pants along with his underwear. The reminder of the stickiness in his briefs sent a rush of shame through him, but he gave Tony no such indication.
Without fanfare, Steve turned around on all fours. The concrete floor was still uncomfortable, but better him bear it than Tony.
Tony moaned loud enough to echo in the entire room.
“Oh god, oh my god," Tony said dropping down on his knees behind Steve.
Callused hands palmed at Steve's ass, shamelessly spreading his buttocks. Steve didn't know if it was him or Tony that was shaking: Steve felt much more naked than he was, baring himself tp Tony like this, to look and touch and use him as he pleased.
“God," Tony groaned. "You look so good. So tight."
Tony circled his rim with a finger and Steve jolted, grunting in surprise.
“I cant believe you’d—fuck." Tony groaned again, but this time it was laced with frustration. "Fuck, I’ve wanted this for so long, and I wanna make it good for you, but I...I don't have anything.”
Yeah, well. Steve knew neither of them had anything to make this easier, but he also knew his body well enough to be sure he'd manage. Besides, Tony was still wet, leaking constantly—it had to be a side effect of the drug—and though it might chafe in the beginning, Steve could take it.
“I don't need anything,” Steve said. “Just go for it.”
“Oh, fuck,” Tony moaned, and then he shifted behind Steve, and—
Steve let out a startled yelp when instead of a hard cock, he felt a wet tongue prodding at his hole.
"Tony!" he exclaimed, glancing over his shoulder. "What the hell?"
Tony ignored him, or didn't hear him in the first place, because he just pulled Steve's hips down and his ass against his face, licking at it like a man starved. His eyes were closed and he was moaning, loud and filthy like this was pleasure for him and not Steve.
Steve bowed his head and tried to suppress his whimpers: he was sensitive all over, and this was no exception. He would never have expected this of Tony—at least not in the state he was in—but Tony seemed happy to ignore his own, painful arousal just to make Steve feel good.
Embarrassingly, Steve could feel himself already getting close again. The way Tony kissed and lapped at his hole, his breath ragged and goatee scratching against Steve's perineum, was a cocktail of pleasure and sensation that had Steve's knees shaking.
“Oh, fuck, Steve,” Tony panted when he pulled up for air. “Your ass is so perfect, I can't—”
Tony made a choked whine and roughly grabbed Steve’s cheeks before diving back in. He wiggled his tongue into Steve's body, stretching his hole with wet and warm and perfect pressure, and Steve couldn't, how was he supposed to hold on when that was Tony’s tongue inside him—
With an overwhelmed sob, Steve came again, splattering onto the concrete and clenching around Tony's tongue.
Tony worked him through it, licking at him inside and not allowing Steve's clenching body to slow him down. Steve realized that Tony was moaning again, a constant drawn-out sound that vibrated against Steve's rim.
Tony pulled off and was immediately back to running his mouth. “Fuck, that was hot, so hot—you're so good, god, Steve, I can't… I'm so hard, I think I'm actually gonna die if I don’t get to fuck you; please, please let me fuck you.”
Steve looked over his shoulder again. Tony was fisting his own cock; the tip was flushed dark and almost purple, and Tony looked like he was in agony, grimacing while he roughly tugged on his length.
“Put it in,” Steve said. His voice was gruff, like he was giving an order in the field, telling Tony to Put on the suit.
And Tony whimpered, “Thank you, thank you so much,” and scrambled to obey, lining himself up with Steve's hole and pushing.
Steve grunted at the pressure against the tense muscle. It was a tight fit, and not an easy ride even with Tony's leaking cock and the spit still clinging to Steve's rim.
But any discomfort Steve might have felt was drowned out by the filthy, unabashed moan Tony let out as soon as the head popped in. His hips immediately stuttered forward, nudging his cock further inside and forcing Steve to take more, feeding his cock into Steve's clenching body.
“Oh fuck, that’s it," Tony murmured breathlessly. "There you go, baby—god, you're taking me so well."
Steve bit his lips to muffle a whine, because it was good—it was perfect. This way, he could feel everything: every ridge and vein of Tony's length, the rough friction of Tony's skin against his rim, the way they both trembled as Tony sank in.
But Steve had to keep his voice down. Tony could never know how much he loved being taken like this, how Steve had fantasized about being on his knees and used by Tony.
Tony eventually bottomed out and then he stayed in place, tense and shaking with the effort of staying still. Steve was already back to full hardness, because how could he not be, with Tony around him, inside him, surrounding him everywhere.
“Steve… Steve,” Tony groaned. “You feel amazing, so tight, so fucking tight—and I can't, I want to make it good for you but I can't.”
“Do it,” Steve rasped. “Fuck me. I can take it.”
And that was all it took. Tony pulled out and pushed back in, making Steve gasp and stretching his hole further, forcing his body to adapt. Tony moaned and then did it again, harder this time, setting a punishing pace fucking into Steve's body, the obscene noises of their moans and skin slapping against skin filling the room.
It was better than Steve had ever dreamed. He was so turned on it felt like he was affected by the drug too; shame burned hot on his face but he didn't stop, only braced his arms against the floor and rocked back onto Tony's cock.
Steve came again at some point: not really registering it, other than the pained whimpers Tony made as Steve clenched around his cock. It prompted Tony to grab his hips brutally and pump faster, harder, coaxing Steve's overstimulated body back to arousal.
“You're so good, so amazing, I love you,” Tony said between thrusts. "God, Steve, I love you, you’re perfect.”
Steve flushed and ignored Tony's blabbering: he had to be really out of it to be speaking like that. Though that fact didn't register with Steve’s cock, which was already chubbing back up, half-hard and twitching with the sweet words spilling out of Tony’s mouth.
“God, Tony,” Steve moaned. “Don’t stop.”
“Never, never gonna stop, gonna keep fucking you until I die, you—fuck, Steve, you feel so good,” Tony said.
His cock slammed in and out of Steve’s body, making the concrete crack under Steve’s hands as he dug his fingers into the floor.
And then Tony bowed over him, chest to back. The new angle of thrusts nailed Steve’s prostate and he cried out, loud enough that he’d be embarrassed if it didn’t feel so fucking good.
“Oh, oh, darling,” Tony panted into Steve’s sweaty neck. One of his hands left Steve’s hip, circling around to grab at his cock and making Steve jolt. “One more,” Tony said, tugging on Steve's dick with uncoordinated movements. “Please, sweetheart, one more. Come on my cock, you clench up so nice, so good for me.”
And Steve was helpless: the words, the assault on his prostate, the hand on his cock, they all blended together into blinding pleasure until he came with a silent scream.
This time, Tony followed, grabbing Steve’s hips and fucking him hard and deep through the release. Tony spilled into his clenching body, a ragged moan tearing out of his throat while his nails dug into Steve's hips hard enough to break skin.
After it was over, once Tony's thrusts stilled and he slumped over Steve's back, Tony whimpered one last, “Thank you,” and promptly passed out.
And Steve lied there: sweaty and covered in his own come, with Tony's finally softening dick still inside him and blood pricking at the scratch marks on his hips.
That was when the door slammed open with a crack of thunder and a sob broke free from Steve as he realized what he had just done.