3am again. Tony swore under his breath as he lay awake in bed, sweaty sheets clinging to his naked torso.

He'd had.. Well, he'd dreamt about Captain America again, oh lord.

He sat up, grabbing a few clean tissues from the bedside table and wiped himself down, grimacing.

Seriously, what was /wrong/ with him, you weren't supposed to masturbate over videos of Captain America fighting, for science sake!

His body was still giving off faint shudders, aftershocks of a kind,

He shivered deliciously with the memory, Cap.. O Captain, My Captain..

Dragging himself out of bed and through to the shower, his mind was still reeling, he remembered putting the videos on again for nostalgia, however he did not remember the moment he decided to masturbate to Steve's face, not even the moment he actually /started/ touching himself. That was weird..

He stepped under the hot water, moaning loudly as it cascaded down his sensitive skin, washing away any last traces of his.. Evening entertainment. He lathered soap over his skin, imagining his hands were Steve's and-

Fuck. He needed help. He needed Steve.

He needed Steve.