"Thank you again, Captain Rogers, for participating in this study. This is Judy, she'll be administering the injection momentarily," Coulson began, understated as ever, while a CMA in olive scrubs laid out the necessary accoutrements on the counter. "But first I am required by the FDA and SHIELD to familiarize you with the complete list of possible side effects … You may want to get comfortable."
Bemused, Steve stretched out in the exam chair and nodded for Coulson to continue.
"Okay, common side effects include nausea, dizziness, sweating, anxiety, vomiting, blurred vision, double vision, dry mouth, constipation, diarrhea, rectal bleeding, indigestion, flatulence, tremor, chills, involuntary muscle spasms, taste perversion, sinus irritation, urinary retention, tinnitus, mydriasis, headache, back pain, burning or tingling, joint pain, fatigue, somnolence, insomnia, loss of coordination, confusion, depression, suicidal thoughts, depersonalization, agitation, mood swings, hallucination, abnormal dreams, aggressive behavior, serotonin syndrome, inflammation at the injection site, and painful menstruation," he recited, flatly and flawlessly.
"Oh, is that all?" inquired Steve with a raised eyebrow. He was beginning to doubt the wisdom of volunteering for this mystery project of Fury's.
"It's not," answered Coulson, deadpan. "Less common side effects may include amnesia, facial swelling, skin rash, itching, hives, seizures, nosebleed, hemorrhage, rapid heartbeat, slow heartbeat, tachycardia, blood clots, chest pain, heart attack, increased blood pressure, sudden drop in blood pressure upon standing, phototoxicity, hirsutism, bone loss, hair loss, pancreatic inflammation, kidney inflammation, kidney failure, weight loss, weight gain, gynecomastia, increased susceptibility to viral infections, and toxic epidermal necrolysis."
"That sounds awful!"
"You have no idea."
"Are you through?"
"No, and I've saved the best for last … Sexual side effects may include decreased libido, increased libido, impotence, abnormal orgasm, anorgasmia, ejaculatory anhedonia, altered interest in having sexual intercourse, and unusual urges."
"Is there anything else?" Steve asked meekly, not sure he could take any more of this.
"Yes. Under no circumstances should you take this drug while pregnant, as it can cause severe birth defects and increases the likelihood of miscarriage."
"Well, at least there's one thing I don't need to worry about." Steve's bid for humor did nothing to lighten the suddenly oppressive atmosphere in the room.
"Any questions, Captain?"
"Lots, but I think I'm too scared to ask."
"Very well. Judy?"
Three hours later Steve found himself alone in Avengers Mansion, sitting silent on the couch, nervously awaiting the onslaught of potentially deadly side effects. It was only after he had stripped down to his undershirt and shorts that it occurred to him he might be experiencing some already. He was hot, even in the mansion's perfect 72 degrees, and he was having a hard time concentrating on the laundry list of symptoms to look out for. Embarrassingly – and he seriously considered not reporting this to his doctors – all he could think about was sex. He tried turning on the television to take his mind off it, but found no relief. Every channel was populated with attractive men and women in varying states of undress, heaving bosoms, chiseled abs, smooth thighs and plump, painted lips.
Reminding himself that gynecomastia would be a far worse fate, Steve made the mature decision to take himself and his erection upstairs to his bedroom and deal with his problem in private. He would just pop into the kitchen for a badly needed glass of water first.
He lingered at the tap, splashing water on his face, letting it run, blessedly cool, down his neck and chest, and nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the door swing open behind him.
"I guess I'm not the only one who thinks modesty is an unnecessary societal burden," quipped Tony amiably, never guessing he was the last person on earth Steve wanted to see right at that moment.
Knowing he was making a huge mistake, Steve chanced a glance over his shoulder only to find Tony wearing nothing but a pair of black satin pajama pants and a wry grin. His erection twitched, trapped against the cabinets, and it was all Steve could do not to rub himself off right there, staring at the lean, luxurious body he'd been dreaming about ever since meeting the man beneath the metal. He almost missed the subtle shift in Tony's expression from amused to mildly concerned.
"You don't look so good. Are you feeling okay?" Tony was suddenly crossing the kitchen, a hand outstretched to feel Steve's forehead, but he never got an opportunity.
Without a word, Steve bolted across the linoleum, out the door and up the stairs to the safety of his room, wrapping a punishing hand around himself as soon as his door clicked shut.
"JARVIS lock the door," he managed to breathe just as he heard Tony's footsteps pounding down the hall behind him.
"Yes, Captain Rogers."
"Steve, I hope you're getting your coat, because I'm driving you to the emergency room right now! JARVIS unlock the door!"
"Yes, Mr. Stark."
Crying out in equal parts frustration and shame, Steve tore his hand out of his boxers and turned to confront the insufferable billionaire barging his way in.
"Leave me alone!" he snarled, hoping that an eyeful of tented shorts would be enough to scare Tony off.
"I will not. You're obviously taking some combination of Viagra and whatever penis enhancers those spammers have been selling you, although from here it doesn't look like you really need to take any more of either …" Tony chattered on at the rapid, unfiltered clip that meant he was trying not to look nervous, but Steve could no longer hear him over the rush of blood in his ears.
Tony Stark, the physical embodiment of sexual liberation, was in his room, half naked, detailing the dangers of priapism, and Steve was well beyond the point of restraint. Breathing heavily, pinning the smaller man with a hungry stare, Steve reached out and grabbed him by the shoulders, tossing him effortlessly down to the bed.
Tony babbled almost incoherently, his body tense against the counterpane, eyes wide with shock. Steve snagged the waistband of Tony's pajamas and groaned at the satisfying shriek of ripping satin, head pounding, mouth watering at the sight before him.
Reduced to gulping and trembling, Tony looked away, embarrassed as he hardened under Steve's intense gaze. He muttered something about needing a new pair anyway, a faint blush rising in his cheeks. Steve tore his eyes away momentarily to tear off his own remaining underclothes then turned his full attention back to his teammate's prone form.
Tony gasped sharply when a hand wrapped firmly around him, hissing as it pumped gently up and down, and, oh, Steve loved that sound. Steve leaned forward, bending to press their chests and hips together, removing his hand to better grind, groaning, against his squirming prey.
"Oh god," he moaned, husky and thick, against the skin of Tony's neck, "I want you." He nipped lightly at the flesh beneath his lips, answering Tony's shudder with one of his own. "I want you so bad." Tony was once again yammering on about something, his jaw working spastically, but Steve didn't, couldn't, hear anything but his own ragged breath.
Trapped between them, his cock was already leaking profusely, leaving long, wet streaks on both their bellies. The pure, primal pleasure was so overwhelming that Steve could only hold out for a few thrusts before coming unceremoniously, biting Tony's shoulder perhaps a bit too hard and whimpering softly.
The next thing Steve remembered was waking to the sound of his shower running full blast. Groggy with sleep, Steve cast about for an explanation and found only, to his horror, a pile of tattered black satin on the floor and an arc reactor-shaped bruise on his chest.
Truly disturbing memories returned in a flood, along with the sour taste of guilt at the back of his throat. What have I done? He asked himself, already knowing the answer. I just raped my best friend. He was going to be sick. Hastily throwing on a pair of sweats and a pullover, he retreated as fast as he could, down the stairs, out the door and across the street to lose himself in Central Park.
It was well past midnight when Steve had worked up the courage to beg forgiveness, and only after he had jogged several miles and left a sternly worded message with the SHIELD front office that he would no longer be participating in any more drug trials.
"Welcome back, Captain Rogers," JARVIS greeted him at the front door. "Mr. Stark would like to speak with you in his workshop."
"Thanks," Steve croaked. He trudged his way downstairs, each step heavy and haunted. He could already picture the next evening's 40 point headlines; Captain America Pleads Guilty to Sex Charges, Avengers Denounce Former Leader. Even worse, he could already see Tony up on the stand giving his damning testimony, embarrassed, hurt, betrayed.
Heart pounding and mouth dry, he let himself into the workshop and followed the clangs and clatters of high tech tinkering until he found Tony at the back of the shop dissecting a vintage Indian. He cleared his throat, awkwardly announcing his presence.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered unsteadily.
Tony paused, still facing the bike.
"Sorry?" he asked, turning a pair of deeply wounded blue eyes over his shoulder. "Then I guess I'm sorry, too."
"You don't have anything to apologize for."
"Of course I do. I shouldn't have followed you. But I was worried … then I was curious … then I was just plain stupid."
"Stupid?" Really, stupid was the one adjective Steve would never associate with Tony – irresponsible, incorrigible even, but never stupid. "Why would you say that?" And even though Steve had intended to keep his distance, knew any credibility he'd ever had as friend was irrevocably lost, he couldn't stand the sight of Tony so defeated and reached for his shoulder, stopping just in time.
"I never pictured you as the love 'em and leave 'em type." Tony continued, expression turning hard and blank. "But I'm sure that we're capable of being adult about this. You won't be the first person I've had to work with after meaningless sex."
Something in Steve's face – the complete and utter shock maybe – must have betrayed him, because suddenly Tony fell silent, staring intently as the gears in his head spun, eyes going wide as something clicked into place.
"Wait a minute … Why are you apologizing?"
"Because I ravaged you!"
"So you don't remember?"
Steve swallowed hard, suddenly dizzy and terribly confused. "Remember what?"
"Yes, yes, harder, faster? That doesn't ring a bell?"
"You mean … you wanted me too?" And surely the world had stopped spinning, because Steve wasn't dizzy any longer, simply lightheaded with a rush of relief. Relief and something else he wasn't sure he was ready for.
"I thought that's what made you run away afterward. I … thought you were sorry you'd gotten my hopes up." Tony stood at last, turning warily to face his friend, the ghost of a smile tugging at his mouth.
"I thought I was going to prison."
They both laughed nervously, neither sure how to proceed, neither sure how the feet between them had turned into inches.
"Then … you'll give me another chance?" asked Steve, awfully shy for a superhero.
"As long as we do it my way next time," answered Tony leaning up for the kiss they should have shared long before.