Tony stared blankly at the holographic screen in front of him, hands clenching off and on around a thick iron wrench digging into his calloused palms. By now, you'd think he'd have a better handle on his mind, considering the countless hours wasted away in his childhood teaching him to hide every part of himself.
What would his father say. if he had seen him submitting to such delusions...
Such blatant weakness.
When Rhodey called him and invited him out for drinks, he had hoped for the best. After running his body non-stop for seventy-two hours straight, Tony was just glad that he showed up to the right bar.
Their conversation started out innocently enough, questions easing and cooling tension between the two friends: How have you been? Is your alpha treating you well? God, Tony, you're not cheating on Captain America, right?
Then the conversation took a turn, edging away from idle to more dangerous currents. Topic? The latest national threat against America, the Mandarin. An elderly man who quite possibly holds the fate of millions of people in the palm of his hand, a trigger to the most violent bloodbath known to man.
Unexplained explosions had started appearing all across the states, some in complete random locations, while some were strictly in important government facilities.
It was confusing to say the least, and Tony hated it.
And the government brilliant plan to fight this crisis? They colored his beautiful silver suit in blazing red, white, and blue, and changed the name to Iron Patriot.
Hell. he's an American, and that name makes him want to punch his country in the face. Are they trying to make themselves sound like massive pussies to their foes? Look out! It's the Iron Patriot! Let's hope he doesn't find us, or else we may get a ticket for illegally obtained weapons.
Fucking awful. Iron Lameass would make a better title.
Or the original. That sounds like a good idea.
He'd argued the idea with Rhodey, but to no cigar. Evidently the nation feel less intimidated under the care of the Iron Dickhead to War Machine.
(He will never get over that. As if stealing his suit in the first place hadn't been bad enough, now they had to muck it up to be approved by drooling three year olds. 'Cause that's what scares terrorists, the equivalent of an overweight man in a Chuck-E-Cheese costume. Way to go, America.)
When their small talk and banter reached a standstill, Tony finally asked for more information on the Mandarin. For all his technology and genius, he knew he was missing something. The government would be concerned for three bombings, they seemed to be hiding vital information from the general public. Though to be fair, Tony would too.
But then again, Tony's a massive, egotistical asshole. He's also technically a civilian.
It had taken a little pressuring (and the promise of a new suit upgrade), but the in the end the news was well worth it. There had been the three known bombings, yes, but there were six additional cases filed and hidden from civilian eyes. The fact that the Colonel knew about it was simply a perk of being the President's newest watch dog.
They had continued discussing the newest threat to national security, when hell rose from underneath him to swallow his black soul; in the form of a little girl, and her nerdy brother.
Loved you in 'A Christmas Story'.
Signing their artwork should have been a breeze, after all he signs his name hundreds of times a day...
Rubbing the ache from his forehead, Tony leaned back in his leather recliner. One of the few perks to practically living in his workshop is that his alpha was kind enough to buy him a moving in gift of a black comfortable chair for when he can't make it to bed.
He's pretty sure the seat has seen more wear-and-tear than the bed though, which is awful considering how attractive a couple they are.
Barely registering the automated swoosh beyond his massive migraine, Tony rubbed irritably at the crust manifesting at the corner of his eyes. Large palms settled on his shoulders, and Tony tensed in his fight-or-flight instinct, before easing back into the hands that had begun rubbing small circles into his shoulder blade.
"Hey," The nonchalant tone of his alpha soothed, "how's your work coming along?"
He shrugs, "Alright, I suppose. I still can't find the small error fucking up everything."
"Yikes, that sounds bad."
"No one say's 'yikes' anymore, Steve." Tony rolled his eyes, smile twitching at the ends of his lips.
"Aw..." His mate pouts, sticking out his lower lip dramatically, "I like saying yikes."
"Whatever you say, Shaggy."
"..."
"We have to introduce you to old 80's cartoons. This is just disgraceful."
He moans as Steve works through a tight knot in his upper back, fingertips doing wonders on his sore muscles. Realizing how lethargic he appeared sitting around in the dark with a metal wrench in his hands and yet doing absolutely nothing, Tony began fiddling on the random tweaks for his newest grade armor. If he rerouted the sensors to the metal attachments in his arms, then he may be able to fix the calling issue. It would take a bit of time, however for him to move forward. First he would need to ship in the correct conductive metal, bypass Pepper with the plans, and avoid any new Avenger jobs from Baldy the forever-scowling pirate. All goes well, he should have it in by next week. All goes wrong...
Well, he's Tony Stark. He'll figure something out.
"This suit looks different from the last one," Steve remarks idly, eyeing the lifeless metal without pausing in his ministrations, "what is this, Mark 15?"
"Uh, yeah." Tony quickly covered up the emblazoned 42 from sight, turning his head to the blonde, "Something like that."
There's a lull, not at all awkward like their initial moments alone, but comfortable, eased. These moments are the ones that remind Tony that against all the shit he has to trudge through, all the business meeting filled days, and horror blazed nights, he still has Steve. Someone who cared more for his wellbeing as a person than just a tool, a vessel.
Maybe if he's lucky Steve won't even mention the-
"You seem tense, how did it go?" Tony groans, "That bad?"
Well, it was a stupid dream.
Another groan, "Worse. Much, much worse."
A kiss flits briefly over the back of his neck, before the hands on his shoulders slide down his collarbone, into the collar of his Black Sabbath shirt.
"I could have guessed that..." Steve comments, "Rhodey called-"
"Whatever he said happened is a lie," Tony interrupted, fear spiking slightly, "he's just jealous that my hero name is better than his."
Fucking Iron Patriot.
"Tony, he said you freaked out on two little kids today, messed up a small boy's drawing, and collapsed in your Iron Man suit," Wow, so maybe he didn't exaggerate the story, "I'm worried about you. You spend all day down here on your suits, I hardly ever get to see you, you've already missed three of our date nights," he paused, hands stopping at the same time, a contemplative expression drawing his eyebrows together, "Are you... Are you mad at me? Is that why you're avoiding me?"
NO! Oh, god, don't fuck up the one thing holding you together.
"No! No, of course not Steve. I could never be mad at you," He stops, retracting his words, "Okay, not that mad at you. I'm not trying to avoid you, babe, I love you. More than anything else in the entire world. You mean so much to me that it hurts, Steve."
He continues when the blonde remains silent, "I love you, so much. But I'm going through a really stressful time right now, and it's tearing my brain apart."
Finally, the alpha speaks, "Is it-Is it because of the bond? I know it's a big leap-"
"No," He smiles at his sad eyed mate, berating himself with the repeated reminder that he did that. It was dangerous to forget that while Steve was one hundred percent alpha, he still had the minor insecurities of a beta. It was one of his many endearing qualities, "I want the bond. I want to be connected to you, belong to you. I want your puppies, and your love. Best of all, I want you." He nips at the fingers still splayed on his skin, "The mind blowing sex is just a bonus. Is there 'After sex' sex? If not, they should make that a thing. In fact, we should make that a thing."
Comforting bled into his mind as his alpha chuckled deep in his chest, hands returning to their previous jobs. Careers if Tony had anything to say about it. No complaints from him for the sexy body behind all of it.
But somewhere in his conscious, Tony knows he needs to tell Steve. They won't make it very far in their relationship if he's already keeping secrets. Hell, Steve had already told him about his being a beta before the serum, the least he could do was divulge this tidbit of information.
This could make or break their tie. He wouldn't stop the blonde from walking away if he so choose to.
"It's just," Now or never, "life hasn't been kind to me as of late. I can't sleep, and when I do I have nightmares."
A look a pity crosses bright blue eyes and Tony has to fight off the wave of disgust at that look. Any one of the Avengers could tell you that Steve has night terrors, ones that leave him drowning in his own mind, trying to catch a hand that isn't there, screaming for his life in a wasteland that mock his shrieks back at him. But Tony knew most of all, for those were the nights he would wake up with his body smashed into the sweaty chest of his terrified alpha, his body pliant and comforting in the hollow, empty expanse playing behind Steve's clenched eyelids.
And if Tony had bruises in the morning, well, it's amazing how beat up he can get even in the suit.
He hoped Steve never found out the true cause of his pain.
"I just... If they come back and I'm not... I have to be ready next time. I can't," He gazes at Steve, "I can't lose the one thing I can't live without. You, I mean."
Talking about feelings wasn't really in his abilities, and he hated every minute of it. But it would be worth it in the end, if he managed to get the message across. Silence met his words, the only sounds coming from the random whirrs and beeps that had become the ambience of his workshop. If he turned his head slightly to the side, he would no doubt see U or Dum-E fidgeting in clear boredom. At least that would be a distraction from the suddenly uncomfortable air sticking in his throat.
Before he could scold -Dum-E, definetly Dum-E- he found his vision swirling. He almost cursed his recurring day-dreams (day-nightmares?), until he realized that it had stopped, and he was instead facing the affectionate blue sea he constantly found himself swimming in. Arms traced down his sides, sending goosebumps up and down his body.
"You don't have to be alone, Tony." Their foreheads brush, sweaty gold strands mixing into the brunet clumps, "You have me, and Bruce, and Pepper, and even Natasha." Psh. "No, I'm being serious. We care for you. And, believe it or not, we're not fragile. We won't break under a little strain. Bruce's alter-ego is the Hulk, and Pep has Nat." He chuckles, "Honestly, I don't know who's safer, Bruce or Pepper."
With one last shake of his head, the alpha pulled back, never breaking eye contact. "We'll be fine, Tony. You don't have to kill yourself under all this stress worrying about that. And if the aliens come again, we will be ready for them." He stands to his full, intimidating, height, "Now, tell me, when was the last time you got some shut-eye?"
"What do you mean? I blinked at least a couple times in the last few minutes-"
"Tony." Damn alpha intimidation.
"Last night... I think."
"Tony."
"Steve."
Rubbing irritably at his orbs, Steve looks up, "Jarvis?"
"You don't have to look up, he's not in the ceiling." Fuck, the last thing he needs right now is a punishment for this shit. He had work to do, goddamnit!
Yes, Mister Rogers?
"When was the last time Tony went to sleep?"
"Jarvis, dont-!"
Last logged time of rest was from 3:02 am to 5:34 am, three days previous.
"Traitor." He glares at one of the many motion sensor cameras, flipping the nearest one the bird.
I live to serve.
"You're not even alive."
Oh dear, what ever will I tell my wife and children?
"I think," Steve said and Tony is forced to bite back his scathing comment, "it's time for bed, Tony."
"What? It's only 4:00!" He wrestles out of Steve's arms and stands. He saunters to the other side of his lab where Natasha's new wrist bites were stored. "Besides, I'm far too busy. Talk to me next week, I should be free then."
Never let it be said that Steve wasn't persistent.
For a moment, they don't talk. The last word hung around, bouncing off the walls and enhancing the light footsteps from behind him-
Hello, when did the room turn upside-down?
Oh, right. Super soldier boyfriend, duh.
"Dammit Steve! Put me down." He thrashes in the cradle of arms like a wild animal, hating the restraint. One of the few things he loathed about being an omega is his periodical heat sessions (only when he's alone, bring him a few sexy alpha's and he's fine), and the lowered muscle mass. If he had his suit on, he could break out of this without any trouble.
"No. Stop it, Tony," He growled when the engineers elbow dug into his ribs, instantly freezing Tony in his tracks. He began the trek up the clear steps leading to his living room, "You are going to bed, and you are going to sleep. And that is final."
That tone left no room for a rebuttal. Steve was using the alpha's greatest weapon.
Intimidation. The one thing that controlled rowdy betas and omegas alike, and claimed domination over other alphas.
And fuck if it wasn't turning Tony on.
By the time they reach the master bedroom, he's practically dripping for it. Sex pheromones linger down the hall, a trail leading to the horney X marks the spot. Clearly, Steve can smell it's potence as well, if the tent occasionally poking his ass is anything to go by.
He's dumped unceremoniously on the bed, and whines when the blonde turns to leave.
"Steeeeeve... You can't just leave me like this."
"Tony," Theres resignation in the deepened tone, and when he turns, Tony locks onto fully dilated pupils. Tony opens his legs, surrendering his body and posing it as seductively as he can without all-out begging.
"Steeeve, please."
That did it.
His vision was suddenly clouded with yellow and blue. Scents of his mate flooded his scent, urging him on. Fists clenched the worn plaid shirt Steve always seemed to wear, pulling it down to smell at the musk. Hips met his, pressing him into the silk bedsheets, hands making their way up and down his sides.
Tony pushes himself up slightly, only to feel Steve force him back down. A growl escaped the alpha, as he roughly palms him through his pants. An act of dominance. Showing Tony who's in charge here.
He croons at the feeling, pulses at the escalating pleasure within him, presses into the warmth of Steve's hand. Dry humping the appendage through his thin jeans, and fuck it feels so good.
Managing the one-handed trick of the century, Tony worms himself out of his jeans. Waves of sex fumes soar around their noses, and Tony knows it's all over. No alpha (or even beta) could resist the intoxicating smell of omega slick, and even though he's running out of fertile years, Tony's slick has matured like a fine wine.
Irresistible. Oh yeah, he's getting some tonight!
Wet tongue licked against his neck, tasting his sweat, mouthing at the salty drops leaking down his throat.
Tony moaned, rubbing his clothed cock into the oven-like palm.
God, this feels soo good. Nothing could possibly ruin this moment, nothing-
Sir?
Tony growled when Steve stopped, before continuing again.
"What is it, Jarvis?"
Mr. Hogan is on the phone for you.
"Ignore." He grunts, as Steve wipes his tongue over his adams apple. Can he not get one minute to fuck in this world?
I'm afraid he's insisting, sir.
"Ignore."
He says it's an emergency, involving Ms. Potts.
That got his attention, "What kind of emergency, Jarvis?"
He won't say, only that it's imperative that you answer the phone.
"Maybe you should take it..." Steve backs off briefly, coming back when Tony whines.
"Fine, but you're not going anywhere. Go back to doing what you were- aaaw yeah, that." He groans as Steve rubs him through his boxers, drops of precome staining the front of his shorts.
Connecting...
A monitor appears before the bed, a large forehead popping into view almost immediately. Behind the obtrusion, a slate gray wall picked up the small reflected lettering of Stark Inc.
"Hi, Happy's forehead." He laughed as the person on the screen adjusted. "This better be important."
On-screen Happy blinked, clearly taking in the sight of Steve ravaging his neck, "Am I interrupting something?"
"Yes, and I'd very much like to get back to it. So could we hurry this," He moans when Steve ruts against his soaking boxers, "this along, Happy?"
"Theres an alpha here, Tony," He turns and looks off screen at what Tony can only guess is the alpha, "He's in a meeting with Pepper. He's handsome, tall with blue eyes and blonde hair. He's showing her his big brain."
"How big?" Can't blame him for being curious, besides it doesn't hurt to think about it. Not like he's going to cheat with the random stranger, or masterbate to the thought. No, if he wanted an intellectual, he would invite Bruce to join them.
Actually, that wasn't a bad idea. Good for the nerves, too.
"Huge. I think he's flirting with her..."
"Buddy," He started, "I hate to tell you this, but mommy and daddy aren't together anymore. Complain to your new step-mommy Natasha about it. Actually, don't. That's a good way of getting both the guy and your balls cut off for not stopping it."
"Tony, I'm being serious!"
"So am I," He hums, his boxer's slowly making their way down his legs, "Are we done here? 'Cause I'm about to get laid."
"Why can't you take this seriously?" His face distorts, a look of disbelief crossing his features, "This woman has gone through everything for you, don't you even care for her wellbeing?"
That... That was a low blow.
"Look, Happy, you have to give me something else. Right now, I just want to give him a trophy for having the balls to talk to Nat's mate." He accepts the deep kiss, tongue dancing with his partners briefly, before pulling back to look at Happy astonished, "Who is this casanova, anyway?"
"I, uh... I don't know." Figures.
"You don't know..." He would facepalm if not for the comfortable weight on top of them. Two beefy arms position his legs on his alpha's shoulders, "How am I supposed to help you in any way, if I don't even know if he's a threat."
"He's some CEO," Steve lines up his cock with Tony's hole, "His name is... Um... Aldrich Killian, I think."