A/N: Random desire to write a short Damon/Tony story. I guess there are spoilers for season 3 of TVD, so beware. Please do review and tell me what you hated, what you thought was dumb, etc. Also, follow up, who do you think would win in a real fight? The delicious Damon or the delectable Mr. Stark? Peace out. ~Annie
Damon shoved Katherine against the wall. Her head slammed against the brick hard enough to chip some away.
She flashed her fangs before she regained composure. Her face became a mask of smug bitchiness.
Damon braced himself for biting words he planned on pretending wouldn't even come close to touching him. Before she could speak, something slammed to the ground in the dark alley next to them. Damon gave the thing an alarmed look. A robot?
The shiny red mask melted away with the sound of metal sheathed against metal and a human head appeared atop the robot body. "Fear not, fair maiden. I've got this."
Damon looked at Katherine and saw she was just as confused as he was. He turned to the man in metal—fully intending to tell him off—when he realized that robot guy had moved right next to him.
An unfriendly metal fist hit Damon square in the jaw and he went flying. He sat up immediately and glared. "What the hell?" He snarled, blood leaking from busted lips and gums.
The man puffed up. "I am Iron Man. And you'd do well to remember not to attack beautiful young ladies—" Ironman looked around. "Hey, where'd she go?" The girl who'd just been there was nowhere in sight.
Damon had stood while he was talking and was advancing upon the idiot. "That was no lady, dick. That was a soul-sucking harlot." Damon grinned. "Like me."
He flew at the man and savagely tore at his neck. He got down a few gulps before he realized the man's blood was tainted with an odd metallic flavor, unlike the spicy hot delicious concoction of the average human.
Damon stopped drinking. He wrapped his hand around the tin man's throat. "I would kill you with a jerk of my wrist," he whispered into his captive's ear, "but that might upset Elena." He turned the man around to look him in the face.
Before their eyes could meet, a bright light slammed into Damon and he flew back for the second time that evening.
Gritting his teeth, Damon stood and thought it was a good thing vampires were so resilient. He flashed to the man with enhanced speed and was looking into brown eyes in an instant. "Stop," he commanded. And the man did. "What's your name?" He demanded.
"Iron Man," he answered instantly.
"Your real name," Damon said impatiently.
"Tony Stark, genius billionaire playboy philanthropist."
Damon smirked. "You say that as if it will save you. Take off the suit."
Stark looked conflicted for a moment before he complied. The process was quick and when he was done the suit had somehow compacted until it all fit into a briefcase. He stood before Damon without embarrassment.
Damon laughed when it was off and in a heap of metal on the ground. "You wear that thing in your under wear?"
Tony shrugged, feeling cold as he stood there in only his boxers. "It's comfortable."
Damon looked the man up and down. He was shorter than expected, but not disappointing. Not disappointing at all. There was a spot on his chest that still glowed. Damon supposed that didn't just come off with the suit.
His neck was still bloody from Damon's bite. Damon impulsively decided that Stark's blood hadn't tasted bad, just different. And Damon was still hungry.
He stepped closer and moved his lips over the gaping wound, which was still flowing freely. He could afford to be gentler because his compulsion had Stark passive and immobile.
A small moan escaped his prey's mouth. Damon had expected stillness, but was pleasantly surprised when Stark pressed himself against Damon and wrapped his fingers in the vampire's black hair.
Damon growled and slid his hands across the man's bare back until he held his head firmly as his mouth probed and suckled the open wound.
Tony shivered and broke out in goose bumps. He was pressing himself into a strange man in his skivvies on a cold winter night. Possibly a vampire, if the blood drinking was any indication. Logic, one of Tony Stark's best friends, tried to fight through the haze that held Tony firmly in its grasp. But then Pleasure warred and won out and Tony surrendered to the gratifying fog. He couldn't help but rub against the stranger when he gave a particularly intense suck and caused Tony's stomach to jerk in response.
Finally Damon pulled away. His hand still rested on the other side of Stark's neck. Dark blue eyes met warm brown ones and Damon tilted Stark's head for one last aimed lick at the wound. Before pulling away Damon felt a strange desire. Not one to deny himself, he gave in to his impulses and kissed the spot he'd bitten.
When he pulled away he saw surprise on Stark's face, but not disgust. Good. That will make him so much more agreeable, he thought.
"Here's the deal," Damon told him. "It's been a while for me—since Andie, actually, and you look like you're pretty good at scratching itches." He slid an arm over his new toy's shoulders. Hopefully his brother wouldn't go psycho and kill this one, too. He was cute.
Damon turned with his arm still around his new prize and led him to the boarding house. Stark followed almost eagerly. Damon could hardly remember the last time someone had required so little compulsion.
"Andie Star?" Tony asked companionably. He recalled the young reporter who'd once interviewed him. He never forgot a pretty face. Usually. And her death had been all over the news.
"Why do I get the feeling you slept with my girlfriend?" Damon asked as he smirked at the man. He liked the way Stark carried himself with intelligence and humor.
Tony returned the smirk. "Don't feel bad. I'm irresistible."
Damon stopped and pushed Stark gently against a nearby tree. The hand that wasn't busy holding him in place slowly traveled across the genius' stomach. "Don't worry," Damon whispered with dark promise. "I won't be jealous of her for long." He tapped the metal circle on Stark's chest twice and found the resultant clacks pleasing.
Tony's mouth parted just a little in surprise and Damon shamelessly used the opportunity to capture the other man's mouth in a possessive kiss. He had Stark pinned as his mouth slowly assaulted him. His tongue was forcing its way in and out of Tony's mouth and his hands were roaming all over Stark's smooth skin, making sure to keep Stark securely trapped.
Not that Tony was fighting it. He held Damon closer as if he were afraid the other man might stop holding him in place and happily took all Damon had to offer. He sucked Damon's tongue as it assailed him mercilessly and Damon could hardly believe his good luck.
Damon was grinding himself against Stark happily when Stark's legs opened and allowed him better access. His eyes all but rolled to the back of his head the action felt so good.
Stark pulled away panting, but Damon kept his face close. He liked the feel of the man's stubble as it brushed his face.
"Why don't we take this someplace elsewhere?" The man in Damon's arms suggested.
Damon wholeheartedly agreed, and for a moment, the hungry look on Stark's face made Damon wonder if somehow the tables had been turned and he'd ended up the prey.
With a slow smile, Damon decided he didn't care.
