Alright yeah I decided to do another chapter because this pairing was really fun to write for. Sadly there are no motorcycles involved in this smut chapter, but I think you'll like it nonetheless (Steve kind of pulls rank so there's that). Obvious warnings apply.
Tony bolted upright in a bed that was not his own, his eyes darting around the unfamiliar room. Early morning sunlight cracked through the half-open blinds. Slowly, he remembered where he was and his dry lips cracked to a smile. He'd been such an ass to Steve, leading him on like that, but there was no possible chance that the soldier didn't enjoy big-spooning the famous playboy. He scanned the room and noticed small, bright red letters on a digital clock: it was 5:30 in the morning, meaning he'd slept in Steve's bed for at least 13 hours. But it wasn't until he pulled on his jeans that he realized he was alone.
As he did up his belt and stumbled out of the uncannily tidy bedroom, the scientist's ears picked up the generic sounds of kitchen activities. His stomach noisily growled at the thought of food. The drowsy man, blinking at the brightness of the dawn sun shining through the house, slid down the tiled hallway in his socks as if he were on ice; a simple pleasure that he overlooked in his massive, un-homely estate. It had been a long time since he'd been in such a small house. He scratched at his lightly bearded chin and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, hoping that his disheveled bed hair didn't look too ridiculous.
A shirtless Steve Rogers stood with his back to the noiseless engineer as he crept into the living room and made his way to the kitchen, mouth watering at the smell of something cooking. He caught his reflection in the reflective surface of the kitchen counter, hurriedly trying to pat down the mop atop his head.
The man leaning over the stove turned around, visibly jumping when he saw Tony standing close behind him.
"Careful, Rogers," Stark said, raising an eyebrow when Steve almost dropped the sizzling pan containing a golden omelet, "you'll get a bullet in that sweet ass of yours if your nerves are that jumpy on the battlefield."
Steve flipped the breakfast down onto a plate. "I know, it's not good. I let my guard down too much in this place." He shrugged the confession away, grabbing the salt shaker and adding a generous amount on the platter. Tony scooted in next to him, pulling his hand away as the salt threatened to reach the ceiling.
"We ain't fighting demons in here, sunshine," he said. Steve knitted his brow together, confusion sweeping over him. Yet another reference he didn't understand.
He looked up at Tony and the engineer finally noticed a small but deep purple and red bruise on the corner of his eye. Tony touched the mark tentatively, trying to remember if it was there before. Steve froze at the touch, his breath light on the brunette's wrist.
"Care to enlighten me on how you managed to injure yourself between now and waking up?" Tony asked when he had no memory of the bruise being there before they fell asleep together.
"What? Don't you remember?" Steve asked, then sighed when the engineer went blank. "You did this, Tony."
It was the billionaire's turn to furrow his brow. He wasn't a restless sleeper, he thought to himself as he caressed Steve's jaw in guilt. The other man rested a hand on Tony's shoulder with a puzzling look. How could he possibly- oh.
Sometime during his sleep, Tony's subconscious waged war against him. A painful, distorted flashback invaded his dreams and he saw himself lying naked on a freezing, dirt-covered table, his bloodied chest sliced open as unskilled hands messed around with his insides. He remembered lashing out in the dream, but his knuckles were useless on the people as they operated on him.
Steve shook him awake and he sat up shivering, clawing at his chest and sighing deeply in relief when the pain and blood wasn't real. He stopped hyperventilating and looked up at Steve, noticing the small trail of blood dripping down his cheek, visible in the glowing blue light of the reactor. But that was all he could remember.
Back in reality, the shirtless soldier was staring intently into Tony's brown eyes, both hands gripping down hard on his shoulders.
Tony ran a hand through Steve's blonde hair. "I'm sorry," he said with sincerity.
"Don't worry about it, champ. I'm more concerned about you. And I'm not complaining that you had your arms wrapped around me like a scared monkey for the rest of the night," Rogers smiled, turning back to the steaming omelet on the bench and pushing the plate into Tony's hands. "Now eat. I imagine you're starving."
Tony dug into the egg breakfast without bothering to grab cutlery. He really was starving; although that was rather obvious by how quickly he devoured the substantial amount of food on the ceramic plate. "Aren't you gonna eat?" he asked Steve, flecks of melted cheese falling into his hand. The Captain shook his head from where he was sitting on the sofa, his nose buried too deep in the most recent issue of Modern Munitions to give a proper answer.
He shoved the last piece of omelet in his mouth, rinsed his hands in the kitchen sink then sat down next to the soldier. Steve still didn't look up from the glossy paper. Older issues of the artillery magazine lay on the coffee table, tabs of paper sticking out between the pages. The monthly tech mags were the only ones Tony really read, primarily because they featured his military inventions on a pedestal under a spotlight. He sometimes flicked to the factual articles when he felt his A-grade weaponry wasn't being appreciated by the general public.
"Modern Munitions? I didn't think you were so manly, Mr Spangles," Tony jested, flicking through the copies on the table, "I thought Homes and Gardens was more your kind of thing. You know, sewing and flowers."
Steve finally glanced up from the book. "You think I'm not manly?" he snapped.
"I mean, you're not exactly the ballet type," the scientist cocked his neck, eyes darting around the ceiling, "but aside from your supermodel physique and war background, you do paint. And cook exceptionally well. Now if you'll excuse me, princess, I'm gonna hit the shower."
Tony made his way to the hall, yawning and rubbing his eyes, but he didn't get far before he was thrown backwards and his wrists were pinned to the wall above his head. Steve glared at him animalistically, muscled chest flush against the other man.
"Think I'm not manly enough, Stark?" he growled, "I needn't remind you that I'm the Captain here." Tony frantically tried to move his arms down, but Steve could easily pin them back with the strength of one hand. The other one scratched over Tony's bearded jawline, thumb snaking over his bottom lip.
"Well, you do wear plaid," the billionaire shrugged, but the soldier pressed his forearm against his naked chest and arc reactor, pinning him harder back onto the wall. Tony mentally started constructing a list of vaguely non-masculine personality traits of the other man, because if mentioning them resulted in that dominant behavior, he'd pull out everything he could think of.
Keeping Tony's hands above his head, Steve reached down and easily undid the engineer's leather belt. Tony moaned into the aggressive kiss as the Captain claimed his mouth, biting down hard on his bottom lip and tasting the slightest tang of blood. Steve lifted the belt above his head and Tony flushed a deep shade of red when his wrists were securely tied together.
"Ooh, kinky," Tony muttered, only to have a hand come down on his jaw with a smack.
"Shut the fuck up," Steve snarled at him, "and only speak when when I tell you to. And from now on, the last word out of your filthy, crusted pie-hole will be Captain. That's an order. Do you understand?"
When Tony didn't reply, the soldier latched his fingers around his neck. The helpless engineer twitched a smile at his superior, enjoying every sweet second of the dominance.
"You answer me when I speak to you!" Steve yelled as he bucked his hips into his Tony's crotch, the friction in the engineer's commando state sending chills of pleasure up his spine. Any remaining coherent thoughts had quickly dissolved in the air as his downstairs brain took the reigns.
"Yes, Captain," the brunette obeyed. Fuck, he breathed when Steve groped him hard through his jeans.
"What was that?" he choked him harder.
"Fuck, Captain," Tony croaked, struggling for breath. He'd never been treated so rough before, but he and the growing bulge in his pants were both loving it. And by the feel of it, Steve was damn well enjoying it too.
The super soldier released his steel grip. "That's what I thought. Now close your fucking mouth unless I order you to open it. Got it?"
"Yes, Captain."
"That's better. Now I'm going to let go of your hands. And you're not going to move," Rogers demanded and he let go of Tony's tied wrists.
They stayed above the wall as Steve trailed biting kisses down the brunette's neck and over his shoulder, murmuring about all the sinful things he wanted to do to him. Tony bit his tongue and held his aching arms above him the whole time like he was told. It was torture, having to hold back his moans as the fire in the pit of his stomach burned hotter by the second. Steve's hands explored every inch of his torso, up his arms, over his sides, around his back, then down to his ass. He stroked Tony's erection through his jeans, slapping his stomach hard with an added 'bad boy' when a moan accidentally escaped over Stark's bitten lip.
The billionaire's cheeks were bright red, a sheen of blood and foreign saliva on his mouth. The arc reactor glowed as his pulse quickened and a stinging mark appeared where he'd been slapped over his stomach.
"Do you want me to fuck you?" Steve breathed into his ear, slowly unzipping Stark's jeans.
"Yes, Captain," Tony murmured and screwed his eyes shut, fighting back the urge to reach down and run his fingers through the blonde's unruly hair.
"'Yes Captain' what?" the soldier teased as he pulled him out.
Tony's breath hitched as calloused fingertips grabbed his painfully stiff erection. "Fuck me, Captain."
His back collided painfully with the cold floor. Tony hissed, his ears ringing and jaw clenching from being thrown down so suddenly. His arms fell loosely onto his stomach, his shoulders too sore to move. Steve was standing over him, tugging down his own pants with a sly smile. Without another word he disappeared out of view.
Tony tried to twist around and see what was going on, but the Captain's footsteps returned just as fast as they left. The billionaire's head was suddenly jerked up and a tartan dish towel was pulled over his mouth and tied around his head. It dug into his cheeks and the rough material slammed his teeth together, but the sight of the olive oil in the soldier's hand made his gut drop with anticipation.
Steve opened the bottle of oil, tipping it sideways and letting a stream of warm, clear liquid drip down and splash onto Tony's crotch. The brunette's moan was muffled by the rough gag. Rogers smeared oil onto his hand, closing the bottle and dropping it to the side. He ran his fingers between his own thighs, eyes closed as he touched his hole. The billionaire watched with eyes of lust as his superior rolled his head back, mouth agape as he fingered himself.
The Captain crouched down, kneeling over Stark and leaning one hand on the tiles next to his gagged mouth to support himself. Tony watched the other man's top lip quiver in pleasure as their oiled dicks ground together. The brunette's bound hands were pressed between them and he easily reached down and stroked them both. But Steve sat up, easily pushing Tony's hands above his head with an audible crack as the joints jerked up.
"Did I fucking ask you touch me?" the Captain almost screamed in his face, slapping him hard on the cheek. Another red mark appeared on his skin. Tony groaned through the cloth gag, his chest heaving as it became harder to breathe.
The stinging evaporated as the soldier spread his thighs over Tony's crotch, holding the billionaire's cock in one hand. A high-pitched groan, borderline scream, cut through the air as the Captain lowered himself, his entrance stretching at the thick penetration. Tony bit down hard on the towel, tensing his arms as he felt the heat of Steve's ass slowly devouring him. The soldier dug his nails into Stark's arms, holding his breath and biting his lip painfully.
"Ah - fuck, Tony," the Captain moaned breathlessly with his head strained back, Stark watching the blonde's hips jerking down as he forced him in deeper and harder, his ass shaking as if it was about to split. The soldier gasped in air, panting as he lowered down to the hilt.
As his quivering body started rising and falling and trying to pick up rhythm, the gagged brunette thrust up, making Steve moan in pleasure. Tony was slapped again, this time across his stomach.
"I didn't tell you to move," the Captain managed to snap between gasps. He increased his speed, riding Tony's slick dick faster and faster as the discomfort gradually disappeared.
Rogers leaned forwards, angling himself to try and hit the nerve cluster inside him. He grabbed the engineer's tied wrists, throwing them over his own head and around his neck. The leather belt scratched against his skin and the soldier reached up, grabbing hold of Tony's hands and supporting himself. Their fingers entwined as a wave of pleasure shot up his spine.
Tony breathed deeply as Steve tore the gag from his mouth. The cloth hung loose around his neck and the soldier leaned down, passionately pressing their lips together. He let go of Tony's still bound hands and held his face with both hands, holding back a moan as he moved his hips faster, friction building on his prostate as it was hit again and again and again.
They broke the kiss, Steve groaning from deep within his chest and beating himself off with one hand as his stomach twisted on the edge of orgasm.
"Say my name," the soldier hissed, unused fingers latching steadfast around the engineer's exposed throat.
"Yes, Captain - Steve! Fuck, Steve!" Tony yelled as he neared his own release, skin burning hot and throat swallowing hard around the strong hand on his neck. Rogers filled himself as deep as he could, rocking back and forth and moaning Tony's name as he spilled his stomach.
The fingers around the playboy's neck released and Steve replaced them with his wet mouth. Tony's cock was still engulfed in his ass, shocks of pleasure boiling in the scientist's blood as the Captain moved up, kissing him hard and fucking his mouth with his tongue until he came. Steve shuddered as Tony bucked his hips and finished hard inside him, moaning into the soldier's kiss. He finally untied the engineer's hands, tossing the belt to the side as Tony's fingers finally had the chance to run through the blonde's ruffled hair.
Steve lifted himself off Tony's cock, sighing when his muscles could finally relax. The scientist sat upright, but before he had the chance to say anything to his superior, the super soldier was limping down the hallway.
"Clean yourself off, Stark," his voice boomed before he slammed the bathroom door behind him. Tony's knees shook as he walked to the kitchen and wiped the semen and blood off his dick, pulling his jeans back on and plonking down on the sofa. He rubbed his raw, red wrists as he heard the shower kick on.
Tony was lying on the couch, flicking through Modern Munitions when Steve Rogers finally emerged, limping from the hallway and wearing simple cargo shorts with Tony's discarded sweatshirt.
"Nice fashion, Captain," he said. Steve paused at the entrance and cracked a wide smile, his white teeth gleaming in silence. Before he joined Tony on the sofa, the brunette tossed the open magazine into his hands with a sly smile.
Steve furrowed his brow, trying to find what Tony was reading about. Then he saw it. An article featuring the most recent invention created in the scientist's lab. It falsely mentioned Iron Man first testing the device on a crossroads monster and saving the hundreds of innocent civilians in the nearby town, rather than explaining the slightly less heroic but true initial testing.
"They're fast, aren't they?" Rogers said, tossing the Modern Munitions magazine onto the coffee table. "It's pretty damn amazing how quickly information gets around these days."
Instead of pushing away Tony's outstretched legs, he lay between them on the sofa, his body covering the brunette. Stark didn't protest when the soldier's arms snaked under his back, the side of his head resting on the Arc reactor. Tony patted down his damp blonde hair, sinking into the moment as Rogers practically purred at the touch.
Steve lifted his head. "Tony?" he murmured, "did I hurt you at all?"
"Nothing I can't handle. You played Captain well, that's for sure," Tony said, but showed him the red marks on one of his wrists. The Captain shifted his weight, pulling one of his hands from under the engineer and lightly rubbed the raw marks, stopping only to press tentative kisses to the skin.
Steve looked up at Tony's neck and laughed.
"What? Is there jizz on my face?"
"You still have the towel around your neck."
"...I knew that."
The Captain placed Tony's hand on his shoulder, then ghosted his thumb over the small, swelling cut on his bottom lip.
"I guess we're even now," he laughed, looking up into the brunette's dark eyes.
Tony ran circles on his skin. "I know it would be hypocritical for me to say, but I am sorry for hitting you last night. I wouldn't dream of harming that pretty face of yours."
Steve leaned up and lightly kissed him once. "You're not the only one who's lashed out like that before. One time I swiped a glass off my nightstand, thinking I was drowning in the ocean. At least it woke me up as it shattered. I would have preferred a person to wake me up, though."
The billionaire ran his palm over Steve's brow. "Thank you, by the way, for shaking me out of it. God, it was horrible. You're sleeping with me from now on, got it? You can be like my human-sized dream catcher who also has kinky sex with me."
Rogers brushed his lips against Tony's again, then rested his cheek on his chest. "I'd like that, actually. I don't have anyone else. It would be nice to have you."
Tony held him tighter, their bodies warm and limbs locked together. He liked the thought of being Steve's.