Tight Leash
Story Info
Title: Tight Leash
Author: Del Rion (delrion.mail (at) gmail.com)
Fandom: The Avengers (MCU)
Genre: Erotica
Rating: MA / FRAO
Characters: Steve Rogers (Captain America), Tony Stark (Iron Man). Other Avengers and Nick Fury mentioned.
Pairing: Steve/Tony
Summary: An undercover job to extract information from a criminal organization has Steve and Tony pretending to be a couple - or something close enough. They sail murky waters in order to blend in with the crowd and end up doing more than was probably entailed in the job description.
Complete.
Written for: My card in Trope Bingo’s Round 1 (square: “fake relationship”)
Warnings: M/M sexual content (as well as some background F/M), voyeurism, mild background BDSM (and some in the foreground as well).
Disclaimer: Iron Man and Avengers, their characters and everything else belong to Marvel. The movie versions belong to Marvel Studios, Joss Whedon, Jon Favreau, Louis Leterrier, Kenneth Branagh, Joe Johnston, Paramount Pictures, Universal Pictures, Walt Disney Pictures… in short: everyone but me. This is pure fiction, created to entertain likeminded fans, no profit made.
Beta: Mythra (mythras-fire)
Feedback: Very welcome indeed.
About Tight Leash: Tony’s look in this fic? Inspired by “Tropic Thunder” and the parts where Kirk Lazarus is his blond self (especially the interview near the end of the film).
What started as a “fake relationship” fic ended up as some kind of bizarre “get together” story. However, I still think it fits the bill for the bingo square, so all’s good.
Story and status: Below you see the writing process of the story. If there is no text after the title, then it is finished and checked. Possible updates shall be marked after the title.
Tight Leash
~ ~ ~
Written for my card in Trope Bingo’s Round 1. Square: “fake relationship”.
Tight Leash
The boom of the music was foreboding and set Steve’s nerves on edge before they even entered the club. Two bouncers, who could have made even Thor look like a man of an average stature, checked them out. For a moment Steve was afraid they would recognize Tony; after all, who didn’t know Tony Stark, even with the facial hair gone, make-up on, hair dyed honey-blonde, blue contacts in his eyes and in clothing that he hadn’t been seen wearing - according to Tony himself - ‘for at least twenty years’?
Tony’s clothes… they still gave Steve a hard time. It almost made him forget what he himself was wearing: the leather pants hugged his form in a way very similar to his Captain America uniform, giving him a sense of security. They were also lighter and easier to move in. The boots were comfortable, to a point, although with all the straps they were a bit too complicated compared to the military types he was used to wearing. The shirt was tight across his chest, hugging every line, rising and falling with every uncertain breath.
Before they had exited the van and rounded a corner, Tony had told him to play it cool. They needed to look like they belonged - in this crowd, in this club and with each other. For all his previous protestations, Tony was on a mission now and Steve found it easy to follow his lead.
And if he happened to hesitate, the leash between Tony’s collar and his fist would tug Steve along nicely.
Tony had told him to do the tugging, though, when someone might be watching. “To not break character,” he had insisted, eyes wide open as he’d put on the blue contacts.
Steve’s eyes followed Tony’s body from the strange blond hair to the collar and further down the black top he was wearing. It would be unfair to call it a shirt: it had a straight neckline which was low enough to show the inner portion of his collarbones - but not too low to betray the arc reactor and the scars around it. The thick material of the shirt completely hid the light and shape of the device in Tony’s chest - then abruptly ended just below the line of the arc, leaving Tony’s midsection and stomach bare for anyone to see. Short sleeves barely covered his armpits, leaving Tony’s strong arms uncovered, adding to the illusion that he was half naked.
Tony was wearing pants, make no mistake, but they were cut low and hugged every line of his ass and thighs - of which Steve had a perfect view right now. Earlier he had discovered that not even the tops of Tony’s hipbones were covered.
Steve trailed his eyes up along the pants and furiously counted the bumps of Tony’s spine, all the way to the matte black of the top.
The bouncers finally waved them in and Steve snapped out of it, moving first, knowing this was when they needed to convince everyone. With the leash tightly wrapped around his hand so he wouldn’t accidentally let it slip, he tugged Tony after him into the dark, smoky club. The beat of the music increased, flashing lights jarring his senses momentarily, but the super-soldier serum helped him to adjust and he guided them through the space packed with people who made their get-up look fairly ordinary.
Tony had said they should give Steve at least a couple piercings, seeing as he would heal anyway. Steve had declined, but seeing the crowd he began to wonder if the lack of metal in his body - not to mention ink - would set them apart.
They got appreciative looks - most of which Steve was used to. Ever since the Avengers emerged, there had been loads of crazy stuff going on around them. This was just another stunt, only there was no mask to pull across his face.
He tried not to think of how he was parading Tony around - just like he was supposed to parade him across the club - and hoped one of the pre-designated spots would be free.
The club was a front for some highly illegal activity. Several authorities had been trying to expose it for years, failing each time. There had been attempted raids, undercover agents as staff and customers, even old-school hacking. Nothing had worked, and all the while the criminal empire grew stronger and larger, trafficking and manufacturing new drugs, dealing in weapons and people, and hiring enough lawyers to protect them if any officials tried to break through their front.
The Avengers had been a last ditch effort, but for any accusations to stand in court, there had to be proof.
They had to get inside.
Natasha had worked for months to gain reliable, fresh intel on the criminal organization. This club was still a hot-spot, definitely housing data that could incriminate and cripple the entire operation. Problem was that the club was a Fort Knox of security, and after bashing his head against his screens for a week, Tony had declared that he couldn’t hack in from the outside.
That’s when a lot of people let out a sigh of resignation; they had tried to send people in to gain access, in the most creative ways, but even Natasha hadn’t managed to get past security - and when she did, the encryption was too tough for her or any pre-programmed hacking device to crack.
Tony had viewed it as a challenge, and somehow Steve had known it wasn’t going to be over until it was really over.
After taking another week to stare at bits of data Natasha had provided, Tony had simply stated that he needed to get inside the club, undetected, and he would break the code.
While the Avengers may have been able to cause a disturbance to let him do that, it would have also given the criminal masterminds enough time to take their data - or destroy it - and exit the scene, so undercover it was. And since they couldn’t access the actual offices due to the tight security, Tony had come up with an alternative.
So, here they were; Steve would provide him the ‘means of entry’, and protection should it come to that. Several infiltrators had died in the past few years after being discovered, which meant these people weren’t afraid of a little blood on their hands. Natasha was already known among the people here, so she couldn’t come and help. Clint had been assigned with surveillance and possible distraction, Bruce would probably Hulk out at the first sight of the place and no one trusted Thor to keep his cover intact long enough.
Which left the two of them, making their way through the crowd of black and leather; Steve hadn’t yet come to understand all the variants of hard-core underworlds, and he was currently being thrown head-first into one of them, without much of a warning. However, there was far less groping than whenever he was dressed as Captain America, so that was a plus. If only these people didn’t look like they needed some quality time in a mental institute…
His eyes moved ahead again, finding the back wall and the booths set up there. All of them were crowded, and he could see a couple actually doing it on one of the tables, no shame whatsoever as a guy plowed into the woman beneath him. Under the flash of lights, Steve wondered how she ever got through a metal detector with all the piercings in her genitalia.
He suddenly wondered where Tony had wanted to pierce him to make him look the part.
With all the booths occupied, they would have to wait. Reflexively, he reached back, tugging slightly at the leash to pull Tony closer, placing an arm around his waist. Tony pressed against his side and Steve’s fingers tightened on his hip, thumb pressed against the top of his pants. Play the part, soldier. He turned his face, smelling Tony’s hair, clean yet sweaty. The skin against his thumb was slightly damp. “All seats are taken,” he said directly in Tony’s ear, to be heard over the music.
He could feel Tony’s affirmative nod.
Steve tried to think of an alternative. Perhaps they could sneak to the back after all, find a room and do this from there. The security worried him, though, and they couldn’t afford to be caught. If someone found out the Avengers were involved - or that Tony was - this might be their last opportunity before the organization changed their tactics entirely. After that it would be back to the drawing board, with a pile of bodies to boot when the criminals purged their lines of all that could be seen as liabilities.
“Have a drink. We’ll wait,” Tony responded after a while.
“I won’t have you drinking on the job,” Steve replied, knowing that Tony had no concept of what was ‘too much’ even at the best of times.
“No, but you can have one,” Tony responded. “Maybe it will make you relax.”
“I think I’m pretty relaxed, considering,” Steve snapped back then started moving towards the bar, perhaps tugging a bit too hard on the leash when Tony didn’t follow him fast enough.
His bulk helped him to find a spot at the bar pretty fast and one of the scantily dressed female bartenders, who fit right in with the clientele, approached him. “A beer,” Steve said, refusing to go with anything that Tony might see as ‘more appropriate’.
“Anything for him?” she asked, eyes briefly glancing at Tony.
“No,” Steve replied shortly, handing over the money and receiving his drink.
“You’re a cruel master,” Tony complained in his ear. “Not even a soda?”
Steve didn’t reply. He gazed at the booths while trying not to look like he was staring, keeping Tony close. The leash was definitely good for something, because he didn’t have to fear Tony wandering off and doing something that would endanger the whole operation - or Tony himself.
As the booths remained occupied, Steve gazed briefly at the man pressed against his side. Tony looked relaxed, his eyes even darker with the black kohl around them. Steve had never entertained the idea of a man using make-up - most of the guys here looked like circus clowns - but on Tony, it simply underlined his long, thick lashes and his eyes that were beautiful and large. Another thing Steve hadn’t really considered, although he should have, seeing as he tended to draw his teammates on occasion.
Tony’s lips parted slightly as he watched, the tip of his tongue slowly wetting them. Steve didn’t think he was wearing lipstick, but… maybe one of those slightly glossy things?
While he was still staring, Tony’s eyes snapped up to his face, as if knowing what he was doing. Steve almost swallowed his beer the wrong way and looked away quickly.
Beside him, Tony rotated his body and pressed impossibly close to him. His clothes, which covered little, did nothing to hide the curves and edges. “Tonight, you’re supposed to look,” Tony told him.
Steve nodded rigidly. He could do this; it wasn’t as if people, like Natasha and Fury, hadn’t told him what he was getting himself into. Steve had been asked, repeatedly, if he would be uncomfortable with this - because if he was, and it showed, it would be over. They would be found out and their chance would be blown.
So, he moved his hand, releasing a half foot of the leash from around it and then placed his palm boldly on Tony’s ass, squeezing for good measure although he wasn’t sure if anyone could see it. He left his hand there while continuing to drink his beer. Tony leaned further in, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder, breaths ghosting on his skin. Both of them continued to wait for an opening, relaxing into it.
An hour and two more drinks later, something caught their attention at the other end of the club: a stage lit up and people began migrating towards it.
Tony smiled at it, seeing their opportunity finally arriving. “A demo. Couldn’t have been better timed,” he mused, then pushed at Steve to move towards a newly available booth at the back. They got there before anyone else showed interest in the seats. Steve slid in first, Tony following him. They sat there for a moment, waiting. No one paid attention to them, however, nor did anyone try and join them in the booth.
The volume of the music changed as if someone had switched off half of the speakers. The crowd cheered and Steve looked up in time to see a glimpse of the stage, although with the crowd and columns blocking his view, he didn’t get a good look. That’s probably why the booth had been left empty - not that everyone had gathered around the stage to watch whatever was happening; many couples and groups remained in dark corners, engaged in activities that didn’t require any light anyway.
A sudden, surprised cry of pain reached Steve’s ears across the room and he caught another glimpse of the stage. A naked woman stood there, slightly bent over, her hands and head locked in a device that looked rather like a medieval pillory. Her legs were spread wide and she was being struck with some kind of whip by a fully clothed man.
“Let’s get this show on the road,” Tony murmured in his ear and Steve wondered if he purposefully timed it with the next strike against the captive woman’s skin.
Before he could reply, Tony was sliding down, beneath the table, and Steve spread his legs slightly to give Tony room to work. The top of Tony’s head leaned against his thigh as the man worked, finding the panel on the wall and starting to unscrew it. Steve had to glance down at that point, realizing Tony had to have tools to do the next part, and… “Where did you hide those?” he frowned.
Tony flashed a customary grin at him. “That’s for me to know and you to not find out,” he decided.
Steve was pretty sure that wasn’t how the saying went.
Tony lowered his face again, focusing, working quickly to open a tightly sealed panel that would, hopefully, let him access the computer system and allow him to hack in.
On the stage, the show went on. Steve tried to ignore it without looking like he was doing that, seeing as he probably was supposed to be at least somewhat interested in it. A throng of people passed their booth, glancing their way, and Steve realized this might compromise their mission. His hand shot out, grabbing Tony’s hair without warning and pulling his face tight into his groin. “Breathe it in,” he ordered loud enough for the group to hear. His words received a few smiles and good-natured laughs, and the group walked on without even slowing down.
Once he was certain there was no one else watching, Steve released his hold on Tony’s hair. The other man pulled his head up, throwing him a look. “Did someone give you lines?” Tony asked.
“What?” Steve frowned, then understood what Tony meant. “No. Did I say something wrong?”
Tony arched an eyebrow as if doubting the sincerity of his reply. “Oh, it was definitely… spot on.” He moved lower again, getting back to work. “Never knew you had it in you, Cap,” he mused, and only Steve’s keen hearing allowed him to catch the words. He tried not to flush in response to them. Of course he had done some very quick reading on this because so many crucial parts of their infiltration rode on his performance. Tony took to the atmosphere here like a fish to water, and frankly, he just had to look like he submitted to Steve on a daily basis - which should have been even more of a challenge than Steve’s role, given Tony’s nature: even after all these years, Tony still liked to get on Steve’s nerves just because he could.
Beneath the table, Tony let out a sound of triumph, then moved around a bit. More gadgets appeared on the floor between their legs and Steve had no clue where Tony had stashed them because there sure as hell wasn’t a lot of extra room beneath his clothes. Perhaps his shoes, and some components apparently had to be put together from rather small pieces and wires. Tony worked furiously for a bit longer, complaining about the lack of light, but he didn’t shift his shirt to allow the arc reactor to help him along; they had to stay discrete, and the light in his chest would be anything but if anyone cared to look.
Finally Tony inched back, his head returning to lean against the outside of Steve’s thigh. Tony’s eyes were downcast and Steve saw him fiddle with something that looked like his phone, only… different. His fingers moved quickly over the see-through surface with dozens of symbols that meant nothing to Steve.
The super-soldier shifted slightly, looking around. He tried to appear mildly disinterested to hide the fact that he was checking out the premises. To further fall into his role, he allowed the hand with the leash to lie down on top of Tony’s head, caressing the strands of blond hair, hopefully looking natural.
Tony didn’t comment or react, focused on his attempt to break through the coding no one else had managed to crack. After a while he moved, though, angling his knees to a more comfortable position and shifted his face, still looking down but maintaining the impression he might be doing something else.
On the stage, the crowd was getting involved. Steve wasn’t certain any of that was legal, but that could well be part of the illegal activities of the club, too. The tied up woman didn’t seem to actually be resisting, but she did react loudly whenever she was hit with something or someone grabbed her breasts too hard.
Steve re-directed his eyes. His fingers unconsciously slid lower, tracing Tony’s smooth chin. If he didn’t know better, he might have thought it was someone else, because seeing Tony without his trademark goatee had been like looking at a different person entirely. He followed the line of his jaw a bit too far, suddenly ending up at his lips - although he shouldn’t have been surprised that they were there; his grasp on anatomy was pretty good, after all.
Tony’s lips moved at the contact, opening instead of pursing shut, and suddenly he had two thirds of Steve’s forefinger in his mouth, lips closing around it before his teeth nipped around the last joint, almost thoughtfully. Steve sat still, wanting to remove his finger but Tony was sort of holding onto it as he worked - either as punishment for Steve’s boldness to touch his face, or simply going with it as another way to blend in.
Also, Steve’s already tight pants felt so much more confining - he had felt a bit of that when he pressed Tony’s face in his crotch earlier, but this was so much worse. Especially when Tony’s tongue brushed against the sensitive tip of Steve’s finger, the sensation traveling all the way up his arm and into the rush of blood between his thighs - two things that shouldn’t even be related.
In the next moment Tony was sucking on the digit, but Steve reasoned it had more to do with the angle of his head and the amount of saliva in Tony’s mouth, and not that Steve was getting a rather impressive erection.
Tony let out a frustrated sound, probably at his attempts to break in. He was nothing if not tenacious, however, fingers working furiously, brow furrowed, teeth pressing steadily against Steve’s finger.
The music continued to beat around them, grinding and harsh, the lights flashing in one part of the club while the other was more steadily lit around the stage. The demo, as Tony had called it, went on, and there were more people on the stage now, in various stages of undress, some of them clearly ‘submissives’ while the others did their best to entertain the crowd. Steve followed it for a while, with the limited view he had. He debated whether he dared to move his free hand to at least adjust himself, or whether Tony would notice it. At this point, any comments Tony might make wouldn’t be that bad, but he didn’t want to distract the genius while he was working to break through the firewall even the builders of the Great Wall of China could envy.
“Fuck that,” Tony muttered around his finger but didn’t make a move to remove the digit from his mouth. Steve considered it a good opportunity, though, and began to withdraw his hand, but before he could get far, Tony’s tongue poked out, teasing the wet forefinger. Steve halted, just long enough for Tony to shift his face and reclaim the finger, now with the middle one joining the first. The hold of his teeth was firmer now, his shoulders clearly tensing. Steve wished he could see his face, although he assumed Tony was frowning in concentration, clearly unhappy with something.
Another sound vibrated faintly against his fingers, low and disappearing into the noises around them. He could feel each of Tony’s exhales on the skin of his hand, a faint trail of wetness sliding down across it when Tony didn’t lick or swallow in time.
Steve closed his eyes, trying to ground himself. This was so far beyond anything he had thought he was signing up for, and nothing was even happening. Remembering he was their only line of defense, however, Steve forced himself to look around again, pretending to be less alert, seeing as he was supposed to be a little buzzed from the drinks he had consumed earlier.
Tony laughed abruptly, the sound traveling across his skin, muted but clear in Steve’s sensitive ears. His fingers were released without warning, coated in saliva. Not even a parting lick, Steve noted, and he moved to wipe his fingers clean on his pant leg. “We’re in business,” Tony declared, still typing commands, but from his posture Steve could tell they had gotten what they came here for. This was why they had initially decided it was worth the risk and effort; Tony could do it. He just needed to get close enough and work his magic.
Reminded that they were still vulnerable, Steve looked around. It was unsettling that their cover hadn’t been blown; that no one was even suspecting something forbidden was going on. How long had Tony spent under the table? A half-hour, easily. Wasn’t that suspicious? What did these people think he was doing?
Steve’s hard-on reminded him of exactly what they might think Tony was doing, which was a bit ridiculous, but then again, Steve was fairly certain he could go for half an hour easily if he tried… Not that he had, nor was there a reason to, but…
Tony moved, pulling back slightly, and Steve could see him putting his things away, then starting to fix the wall panel back into place. No trace would remain that they had been here, and whoever wanted to hog the glory of arresting these people to give them their day in court would have what they needed.
When the panel was finally in place and nothing looked out of the ordinary, Tony moved back between Steve’s legs and grinned up at him. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
Steve wasn’t sure what to tell him, but he welcomed the prospect of leaving this place. Tony started to slide back up to the seat when a young couple suddenly stopped by their booth. They looked at them, the guy definitely checking out the situation - then slid onto the seat on the opposite side of the table without so much as a ‘hello’.
“Don’t let us disturb you,” the guy said, grinning, and his arm wrapped around the half-naked woman promptly fell between her legs. Steve didn’t check to see whether she was wearing underwear. He suspected she might not.
“We were just leaving,” Steve tried to give them an easy, confident smile.
“You can walk with that?” the guy nodded towards him, and yeah, even while seated it was obvious Steve was painfully hard. He had tuned it out, mostly, but it didn’t help that Tony glanced down, too - and didn’t look at all surprised.
“Don’t be coy,” the woman winked at them and spread her legs, propping one on the table, giving anyone who might be looking a perfect view. Steve gave her a glance, knowing that’s what she was going for, and if he didn’t, it might seem suspicious.
She was wearing underwear, but it definitely didn’t cover up anything with a hole sewn in the middle of it.
Steve glanced at Tony, trying to negotiate wordlessly. The older man shrugged and suddenly slid back under the table, which wasn’t what Steve’d had in mind; he was positive he could walk out with some dignity, instead of… this. Tony looked up at him expectantly, and the young couple did the same. Steve swallowed and lowered his eyes at Tony. The guy had sucked on his fingers; how bad could the next step be?
It wasn’t even in the same league, Steve knew that.
“Tell me you want it - and be honest,” Steve spoke up, despite the tension coiling inside him. He belatedly realized that in their roles, it was perhaps the wrong thing to say, so he attempted to cover up his uncertainty: “We haven’t exactly done this before,” he noted to the other couple, hoping they interpreted it in a way that wouldn’t blow their cover.
The guy nodded, still fingering the woman half-draped across him. “First time’s the hardest, but the rush is totally worth it.”
Steve swallowed again and wondered if he could get away from this situation, somehow. His eyes landed on Tony in desperation.
Tony’s wide eyes gazed up at him, nailing him in place. Steve’s chest felt tight, but this time in anticipation. He suddenly loathed the contacts that kept the brown of Tony’s eyes hidden beneath the unnatural blue.
“I want it,” Tony said with utter devotion in his voice. “Please let me suck your cock.” There was not a single person in the universe who wouldn’t have believed him - mostly because as far as Steve could tell, Tony wasn’t lying. And he could read him pretty well, mostly because they fought all the time, together and with each other.
Steve knew the next move was on him. For better or worse… The hand that wasn’t still wrapped around the leash tugged the hidden zipper of his pants open and pulled out his hard cock. The release from the confined space made him moan, although he tried to bite it back.
“Nice,” the girl mused from across the table, spreading her legs further.
Normally, Steve would have flushed crimson at the heat in her eyes - and the fact that she was staring at his erection. Right now, he merely bent his hard cock down a little, giving Tony another look, part of him afraid that he had read the situation wrong, but then Tony leaned forward, meeting the gesture half-way and his lips were definitely better around his cock than they had been around his fingers. The tongue was there, teasing the tip like he had teased the tip of his finger. Steve wasn’t certain if he was supposed to see the similarity, or have it forever imprinted on his mind whenever Tony put anything in his mouth, be it a pen or a banana.
Tony’s eyes fluttered shut. His hands remained down, one wrapping around Steve’s calf, but instead of squeezing painfully it just held onto the clothed flesh, as if grounding them both. Steve could feel most of Tony’s exhales, followed by the first sensation of hitting the back of Tony’s throat. The automatic gag-reflex kicked in and Tony drew back, face crunching up, but he went on like he was on a mission, not even pulling completely off, trying again and again until he angled his head slightly and Steve felt the difference as Tony took him deeper. It didn’t take long before Tony drew back again, to breathe freely, but it felt like a triumph of sorts and Steve slid a hand down to pet his hair to partake in his small victory.
It was clear Tony had done this before, although he was rusty. The skill was there, though, and Steve wondered who else had been here, in his place. He found he didn’t much like to think of it, and that may have led him to tug on the leash, just a little, and the hand in Tony’s hair tightening, urging him to take him a bit deeper, to test the waters of self-control in them both.
The rest of the club was vanishing, as was the couple close by. When Steve realized that, he blinked and looked around, to re-assess the situation; nothing had changed, the demo still going on, and the couple was there, the woman now riding the man’s cock with constant moans in her throat. It couldn’t be real, although anyone might hope they were doing a good enough job to make her sound like that.
In his lap, Tony shifted again, trying another angle, and damn, it was really good. Steve grunted, resisted the urge to push forward, then noted frantic movement on the other side of the club; men were running across the room, unmistakably carrying guns, and there was only one reason for that: the breach in their security had been noticed.
His hand clutched Tony’s hair and forced him to stop. Steve watched carefully, seeing another man appear, dressed like some kind of mob-boss, ordering the others around. Slowly, Steve pulled Tony off his cock, prepared for action. His and Tony’s safety depended on how fast he could move, without his protective uniform or shield. Mostly he was worried about Tony, who didn’t have a single layer of his Iron Man armor between him and bullets.
Armed men moved closer, across the floor and past patrons who looked a bit shocked at the sudden activity. Steve’s muscles tensed and he reached down to tuck himself back in his pants, no matter how painful it would be - only to have Tony lick between his fingers and along his shaft, halting his intended movement. The armed men approached their booth - then walked right past them with one glance at the fucking couple and the two of them. One of the goons even looked right at Tony, and then away again, moving on.
Steve released the air he had been holding, moved his hand and formed another kind of plan; no one knew who they were, and if Tony was as good as he usually was - of which there was no doubt - they wouldn’t know who had hacked them, or from where. If they just sat here, minding their own business, no one would suspect them.
Their eyes met, and if Tony knew what was going on, he didn’t appear concerned. Steve decided at that point that it was okay to just push his cock back down the other man’s throat and let him work it. He grabbed the leash, pulling at it, and he felt Tony’s groan. Both of his teammate’s hands were now clutching his legs, squeezing but not tight enough to signal distress, and Steve was positive he would know if Tony were resisting, or even hesitating.
There was nothing hesitant about the way Tony’s tongue worked his shaft, or the way his eyelashes fluttered, just slightly, every time Steve fucked deeper, forcing Tony down on him for that little bit of pleasure before he knew he had to let the other man back up for air. As a belated notion, Steve thought most of the high came from the fact that he was fucking the face of his teammate, a man he had fought beside for years but with whom he hadn’t gotten closer than a handshake, a clasp of shoulder or offering Tony an arm to squeeze the few times he almost died and someone tried to patch him up in the middle of the battlefield.
Before this night, Steve hadn’t seriously considered seeing Tony in a sexual light, although once he saw Tony’s get-up for tonight, it was hard to not go there.
His thoughts pushed him closer to the edge and he eventually hunched over a little, leaning down to whisper in Tony’s ear: “You’re going to swallow, right?”
Tony’s right hand flew up, fingers sinking in Steve’s hair as he sucked on the head of his cock. Steve’s hand pulled on the leash, increasing the pressure on Tony’s neck, knowing that his cock wasn’t deep enough for the light choking to hurt or be uncomfortable. His hips jerked, just slightly, his scalp aching as Tony’s fingers shifted for a better hold. Steve pressed his face flush against Tony’s head and he bit his ear, blowing hot air across the sensitive skin as he came with a white rush, Tony’s mouth never leaving him.
Steve leaned back on the seat afterwards, once Tony’s fingers released his hair. He looked up at the ceiling, blinking slowly, and felt a clever tongue moving up and down his shaft, possibly cleaning him up. A moment later he felt a weight moving, Tony crawling up and on top of him, a mouth nuzzling and nipping his neck.
The armed men moved past them again, this time in the opposite direction. None of them even glanced their way.
Steve lifted his head and met Tony’s eyes, but before he could even try and say something, Tony moved to kiss his lips, a wicked grin planted on his mouth.
- - -
“I’m just saying, this whole thing stinks,” Clint Barton exclaimed. “First, you refuse to debrief, which isn’t like you,” he pointed at Cap. “Then, the entire security feed from the main floor of the club is wiped out without warning,” he added, this time giving Tony a meaningful look.
Steve shrugged. “It was a sensitive mission, but everything worked out just fine.”
“I’ve never seen Stark’s lips look so puffy,” Natasha put in her two cents.
“Maybe I was biting my lip out of nervousness the whole time?” Tony offered. “You know, we could have gotten caught at any moment. Only, I’m more awesome than most covert agencies in this country,” he added, full of smugness.
“You did good, even if the security feed did get erased by accident,” Bruce threw in from the side, a knowing look on his face. Only, Steve had a pretty good idea even the scientist’s imagination didn’t go far enough to picture what had truly happened. Part of the time he couldn’t believe it himself.
Tony shrugged. “Not my fault; I delivered all the data I was asked to deliver.”
“Right,” Natasha raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “One day, you guys are going to spill. Probably the next time Tony gets drunk. He can’t keep secrets.”
“Can too,” Tony argued, then got up and saluted them all dramatically. “I have work to do. Cap, care to assist me? I need some… brawn,” he explained airily and Steve got up and followed him out of the room. Once they were in the elevator, Tony gave him a look. “I can choose to not kiss and tell.”
“There wasn’t a whole lot of kissing going on,” Steve pointed out, keeping his face so blank he felt like congratulating himself.
Tony gave him a careful look. “No, there…”
“I still have the collar, and the leash,” Steve spoke up, not really meaning to, but that was a better way of letting Tony know his true feelings on the matter than actually telling him he wasn’t doubting Tony’s ability to keep the events of the club hidden from the others.
The smile Tony gave him as the elevator doors opened was almost blinding. “Are you going to do something with those?” he asked.
Steve looked at the brown eyes, the hair still blond and the facial hair just starting to grow back. He had no delusions that it hadn’t been Tony, though.
“I can think of a few things,” Steve finally responded, and laid a finger across Tony’s lips, in a gesture that was usually meant as a sign to remain silent.
Tony thwarted it by opening his lips and taking the digit in his mouth, his eyes never leaving Steve’s.
The End
Title: Tight Leash
Author: Del Rion (delrion.mail (at) gmail.com)
Fandom: The Avengers (MCU)
Genre: Erotica
Rating: MA / FRAO
Characters: Steve Rogers (Captain America), Tony Stark (Iron Man). Other Avengers and Nick Fury mentioned.
Pairing: Steve/Tony
Summary: An undercover job to extract information from a criminal organization has Steve and Tony pretending to be a couple - or something close enough. They sail murky waters in order to blend in with the crowd and end up doing more than was probably entailed in the job description.
Complete.
Written for: My card in Trope Bingo’s Round 1 (square: “fake relationship”)
Warnings: M/M sexual content (as well as some background F/M), voyeurism, mild background BDSM (and some in the foreground as well).
Disclaimer: Iron Man and Avengers, their characters and everything else belong to Marvel. The movie versions belong to Marvel Studios, Joss Whedon, Jon Favreau, Louis Leterrier, Kenneth Branagh, Joe Johnston, Paramount Pictures, Universal Pictures, Walt Disney Pictures… in short: everyone but me. This is pure fiction, created to entertain likeminded fans, no profit made.
Beta: Mythra (mythras-fire)
Feedback: Very welcome indeed.
About Tight Leash: Tony’s look in this fic? Inspired by “Tropic Thunder” and the parts where Kirk Lazarus is his blond self (especially the interview near the end of the film).
What started as a “fake relationship” fic ended up as some kind of bizarre “get together” story. However, I still think it fits the bill for the bingo square, so all’s good.
Story and status: Below you see the writing process of the story. If there is no text after the title, then it is finished and checked. Possible updates shall be marked after the title.
Tight Leash
~ ~ ~
Written for my card in Trope Bingo’s Round 1. Square: “fake relationship”.
Tight Leash
The boom of the music was foreboding and set Steve’s nerves on edge before they even entered the club. Two bouncers, who could have made even Thor look like a man of an average stature, checked them out. For a moment Steve was afraid they would recognize Tony; after all, who didn’t know Tony Stark, even with the facial hair gone, make-up on, hair dyed honey-blonde, blue contacts in his eyes and in clothing that he hadn’t been seen wearing - according to Tony himself - ‘for at least twenty years’?
Tony’s clothes… they still gave Steve a hard time. It almost made him forget what he himself was wearing: the leather pants hugged his form in a way very similar to his Captain America uniform, giving him a sense of security. They were also lighter and easier to move in. The boots were comfortable, to a point, although with all the straps they were a bit too complicated compared to the military types he was used to wearing. The shirt was tight across his chest, hugging every line, rising and falling with every uncertain breath.
Before they had exited the van and rounded a corner, Tony had told him to play it cool. They needed to look like they belonged - in this crowd, in this club and with each other. For all his previous protestations, Tony was on a mission now and Steve found it easy to follow his lead.
And if he happened to hesitate, the leash between Tony’s collar and his fist would tug Steve along nicely.
Tony had told him to do the tugging, though, when someone might be watching. “To not break character,” he had insisted, eyes wide open as he’d put on the blue contacts.
Steve’s eyes followed Tony’s body from the strange blond hair to the collar and further down the black top he was wearing. It would be unfair to call it a shirt: it had a straight neckline which was low enough to show the inner portion of his collarbones - but not too low to betray the arc reactor and the scars around it. The thick material of the shirt completely hid the light and shape of the device in Tony’s chest - then abruptly ended just below the line of the arc, leaving Tony’s midsection and stomach bare for anyone to see. Short sleeves barely covered his armpits, leaving Tony’s strong arms uncovered, adding to the illusion that he was half naked.
Tony was wearing pants, make no mistake, but they were cut low and hugged every line of his ass and thighs - of which Steve had a perfect view right now. Earlier he had discovered that not even the tops of Tony’s hipbones were covered.
Steve trailed his eyes up along the pants and furiously counted the bumps of Tony’s spine, all the way to the matte black of the top.
The bouncers finally waved them in and Steve snapped out of it, moving first, knowing this was when they needed to convince everyone. With the leash tightly wrapped around his hand so he wouldn’t accidentally let it slip, he tugged Tony after him into the dark, smoky club. The beat of the music increased, flashing lights jarring his senses momentarily, but the super-soldier serum helped him to adjust and he guided them through the space packed with people who made their get-up look fairly ordinary.
Tony had said they should give Steve at least a couple piercings, seeing as he would heal anyway. Steve had declined, but seeing the crowd he began to wonder if the lack of metal in his body - not to mention ink - would set them apart.
They got appreciative looks - most of which Steve was used to. Ever since the Avengers emerged, there had been loads of crazy stuff going on around them. This was just another stunt, only there was no mask to pull across his face.
He tried not to think of how he was parading Tony around - just like he was supposed to parade him across the club - and hoped one of the pre-designated spots would be free.
The club was a front for some highly illegal activity. Several authorities had been trying to expose it for years, failing each time. There had been attempted raids, undercover agents as staff and customers, even old-school hacking. Nothing had worked, and all the while the criminal empire grew stronger and larger, trafficking and manufacturing new drugs, dealing in weapons and people, and hiring enough lawyers to protect them if any officials tried to break through their front.
The Avengers had been a last ditch effort, but for any accusations to stand in court, there had to be proof.
They had to get inside.
Natasha had worked for months to gain reliable, fresh intel on the criminal organization. This club was still a hot-spot, definitely housing data that could incriminate and cripple the entire operation. Problem was that the club was a Fort Knox of security, and after bashing his head against his screens for a week, Tony had declared that he couldn’t hack in from the outside.
That’s when a lot of people let out a sigh of resignation; they had tried to send people in to gain access, in the most creative ways, but even Natasha hadn’t managed to get past security - and when she did, the encryption was too tough for her or any pre-programmed hacking device to crack.
Tony had viewed it as a challenge, and somehow Steve had known it wasn’t going to be over until it was really over.
After taking another week to stare at bits of data Natasha had provided, Tony had simply stated that he needed to get inside the club, undetected, and he would break the code.
While the Avengers may have been able to cause a disturbance to let him do that, it would have also given the criminal masterminds enough time to take their data - or destroy it - and exit the scene, so undercover it was. And since they couldn’t access the actual offices due to the tight security, Tony had come up with an alternative.
So, here they were; Steve would provide him the ‘means of entry’, and protection should it come to that. Several infiltrators had died in the past few years after being discovered, which meant these people weren’t afraid of a little blood on their hands. Natasha was already known among the people here, so she couldn’t come and help. Clint had been assigned with surveillance and possible distraction, Bruce would probably Hulk out at the first sight of the place and no one trusted Thor to keep his cover intact long enough.
Which left the two of them, making their way through the crowd of black and leather; Steve hadn’t yet come to understand all the variants of hard-core underworlds, and he was currently being thrown head-first into one of them, without much of a warning. However, there was far less groping than whenever he was dressed as Captain America, so that was a plus. If only these people didn’t look like they needed some quality time in a mental institute…
His eyes moved ahead again, finding the back wall and the booths set up there. All of them were crowded, and he could see a couple actually doing it on one of the tables, no shame whatsoever as a guy plowed into the woman beneath him. Under the flash of lights, Steve wondered how she ever got through a metal detector with all the piercings in her genitalia.
He suddenly wondered where Tony had wanted to pierce him to make him look the part.
With all the booths occupied, they would have to wait. Reflexively, he reached back, tugging slightly at the leash to pull Tony closer, placing an arm around his waist. Tony pressed against his side and Steve’s fingers tightened on his hip, thumb pressed against the top of his pants. Play the part, soldier. He turned his face, smelling Tony’s hair, clean yet sweaty. The skin against his thumb was slightly damp. “All seats are taken,” he said directly in Tony’s ear, to be heard over the music.
He could feel Tony’s affirmative nod.
Steve tried to think of an alternative. Perhaps they could sneak to the back after all, find a room and do this from there. The security worried him, though, and they couldn’t afford to be caught. If someone found out the Avengers were involved - or that Tony was - this might be their last opportunity before the organization changed their tactics entirely. After that it would be back to the drawing board, with a pile of bodies to boot when the criminals purged their lines of all that could be seen as liabilities.
“Have a drink. We’ll wait,” Tony responded after a while.
“I won’t have you drinking on the job,” Steve replied, knowing that Tony had no concept of what was ‘too much’ even at the best of times.
“No, but you can have one,” Tony responded. “Maybe it will make you relax.”
“I think I’m pretty relaxed, considering,” Steve snapped back then started moving towards the bar, perhaps tugging a bit too hard on the leash when Tony didn’t follow him fast enough.
His bulk helped him to find a spot at the bar pretty fast and one of the scantily dressed female bartenders, who fit right in with the clientele, approached him. “A beer,” Steve said, refusing to go with anything that Tony might see as ‘more appropriate’.
“Anything for him?” she asked, eyes briefly glancing at Tony.
“No,” Steve replied shortly, handing over the money and receiving his drink.
“You’re a cruel master,” Tony complained in his ear. “Not even a soda?”
Steve didn’t reply. He gazed at the booths while trying not to look like he was staring, keeping Tony close. The leash was definitely good for something, because he didn’t have to fear Tony wandering off and doing something that would endanger the whole operation - or Tony himself.
As the booths remained occupied, Steve gazed briefly at the man pressed against his side. Tony looked relaxed, his eyes even darker with the black kohl around them. Steve had never entertained the idea of a man using make-up - most of the guys here looked like circus clowns - but on Tony, it simply underlined his long, thick lashes and his eyes that were beautiful and large. Another thing Steve hadn’t really considered, although he should have, seeing as he tended to draw his teammates on occasion.
Tony’s lips parted slightly as he watched, the tip of his tongue slowly wetting them. Steve didn’t think he was wearing lipstick, but… maybe one of those slightly glossy things?
While he was still staring, Tony’s eyes snapped up to his face, as if knowing what he was doing. Steve almost swallowed his beer the wrong way and looked away quickly.
Beside him, Tony rotated his body and pressed impossibly close to him. His clothes, which covered little, did nothing to hide the curves and edges. “Tonight, you’re supposed to look,” Tony told him.
Steve nodded rigidly. He could do this; it wasn’t as if people, like Natasha and Fury, hadn’t told him what he was getting himself into. Steve had been asked, repeatedly, if he would be uncomfortable with this - because if he was, and it showed, it would be over. They would be found out and their chance would be blown.
So, he moved his hand, releasing a half foot of the leash from around it and then placed his palm boldly on Tony’s ass, squeezing for good measure although he wasn’t sure if anyone could see it. He left his hand there while continuing to drink his beer. Tony leaned further in, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder, breaths ghosting on his skin. Both of them continued to wait for an opening, relaxing into it.
An hour and two more drinks later, something caught their attention at the other end of the club: a stage lit up and people began migrating towards it.
Tony smiled at it, seeing their opportunity finally arriving. “A demo. Couldn’t have been better timed,” he mused, then pushed at Steve to move towards a newly available booth at the back. They got there before anyone else showed interest in the seats. Steve slid in first, Tony following him. They sat there for a moment, waiting. No one paid attention to them, however, nor did anyone try and join them in the booth.
The volume of the music changed as if someone had switched off half of the speakers. The crowd cheered and Steve looked up in time to see a glimpse of the stage, although with the crowd and columns blocking his view, he didn’t get a good look. That’s probably why the booth had been left empty - not that everyone had gathered around the stage to watch whatever was happening; many couples and groups remained in dark corners, engaged in activities that didn’t require any light anyway.
A sudden, surprised cry of pain reached Steve’s ears across the room and he caught another glimpse of the stage. A naked woman stood there, slightly bent over, her hands and head locked in a device that looked rather like a medieval pillory. Her legs were spread wide and she was being struck with some kind of whip by a fully clothed man.
“Let’s get this show on the road,” Tony murmured in his ear and Steve wondered if he purposefully timed it with the next strike against the captive woman’s skin.
Before he could reply, Tony was sliding down, beneath the table, and Steve spread his legs slightly to give Tony room to work. The top of Tony’s head leaned against his thigh as the man worked, finding the panel on the wall and starting to unscrew it. Steve had to glance down at that point, realizing Tony had to have tools to do the next part, and… “Where did you hide those?” he frowned.
Tony flashed a customary grin at him. “That’s for me to know and you to not find out,” he decided.
Steve was pretty sure that wasn’t how the saying went.
Tony lowered his face again, focusing, working quickly to open a tightly sealed panel that would, hopefully, let him access the computer system and allow him to hack in.
On the stage, the show went on. Steve tried to ignore it without looking like he was doing that, seeing as he probably was supposed to be at least somewhat interested in it. A throng of people passed their booth, glancing their way, and Steve realized this might compromise their mission. His hand shot out, grabbing Tony’s hair without warning and pulling his face tight into his groin. “Breathe it in,” he ordered loud enough for the group to hear. His words received a few smiles and good-natured laughs, and the group walked on without even slowing down.
Once he was certain there was no one else watching, Steve released his hold on Tony’s hair. The other man pulled his head up, throwing him a look. “Did someone give you lines?” Tony asked.
“What?” Steve frowned, then understood what Tony meant. “No. Did I say something wrong?”
Tony arched an eyebrow as if doubting the sincerity of his reply. “Oh, it was definitely… spot on.” He moved lower again, getting back to work. “Never knew you had it in you, Cap,” he mused, and only Steve’s keen hearing allowed him to catch the words. He tried not to flush in response to them. Of course he had done some very quick reading on this because so many crucial parts of their infiltration rode on his performance. Tony took to the atmosphere here like a fish to water, and frankly, he just had to look like he submitted to Steve on a daily basis - which should have been even more of a challenge than Steve’s role, given Tony’s nature: even after all these years, Tony still liked to get on Steve’s nerves just because he could.
Beneath the table, Tony let out a sound of triumph, then moved around a bit. More gadgets appeared on the floor between their legs and Steve had no clue where Tony had stashed them because there sure as hell wasn’t a lot of extra room beneath his clothes. Perhaps his shoes, and some components apparently had to be put together from rather small pieces and wires. Tony worked furiously for a bit longer, complaining about the lack of light, but he didn’t shift his shirt to allow the arc reactor to help him along; they had to stay discrete, and the light in his chest would be anything but if anyone cared to look.
Finally Tony inched back, his head returning to lean against the outside of Steve’s thigh. Tony’s eyes were downcast and Steve saw him fiddle with something that looked like his phone, only… different. His fingers moved quickly over the see-through surface with dozens of symbols that meant nothing to Steve.
The super-soldier shifted slightly, looking around. He tried to appear mildly disinterested to hide the fact that he was checking out the premises. To further fall into his role, he allowed the hand with the leash to lie down on top of Tony’s head, caressing the strands of blond hair, hopefully looking natural.
Tony didn’t comment or react, focused on his attempt to break through the coding no one else had managed to crack. After a while he moved, though, angling his knees to a more comfortable position and shifted his face, still looking down but maintaining the impression he might be doing something else.
On the stage, the crowd was getting involved. Steve wasn’t certain any of that was legal, but that could well be part of the illegal activities of the club, too. The tied up woman didn’t seem to actually be resisting, but she did react loudly whenever she was hit with something or someone grabbed her breasts too hard.
Steve re-directed his eyes. His fingers unconsciously slid lower, tracing Tony’s smooth chin. If he didn’t know better, he might have thought it was someone else, because seeing Tony without his trademark goatee had been like looking at a different person entirely. He followed the line of his jaw a bit too far, suddenly ending up at his lips - although he shouldn’t have been surprised that they were there; his grasp on anatomy was pretty good, after all.
Tony’s lips moved at the contact, opening instead of pursing shut, and suddenly he had two thirds of Steve’s forefinger in his mouth, lips closing around it before his teeth nipped around the last joint, almost thoughtfully. Steve sat still, wanting to remove his finger but Tony was sort of holding onto it as he worked - either as punishment for Steve’s boldness to touch his face, or simply going with it as another way to blend in.
Also, Steve’s already tight pants felt so much more confining - he had felt a bit of that when he pressed Tony’s face in his crotch earlier, but this was so much worse. Especially when Tony’s tongue brushed against the sensitive tip of Steve’s finger, the sensation traveling all the way up his arm and into the rush of blood between his thighs - two things that shouldn’t even be related.
In the next moment Tony was sucking on the digit, but Steve reasoned it had more to do with the angle of his head and the amount of saliva in Tony’s mouth, and not that Steve was getting a rather impressive erection.
Tony let out a frustrated sound, probably at his attempts to break in. He was nothing if not tenacious, however, fingers working furiously, brow furrowed, teeth pressing steadily against Steve’s finger.
The music continued to beat around them, grinding and harsh, the lights flashing in one part of the club while the other was more steadily lit around the stage. The demo, as Tony had called it, went on, and there were more people on the stage now, in various stages of undress, some of them clearly ‘submissives’ while the others did their best to entertain the crowd. Steve followed it for a while, with the limited view he had. He debated whether he dared to move his free hand to at least adjust himself, or whether Tony would notice it. At this point, any comments Tony might make wouldn’t be that bad, but he didn’t want to distract the genius while he was working to break through the firewall even the builders of the Great Wall of China could envy.
“Fuck that,” Tony muttered around his finger but didn’t make a move to remove the digit from his mouth. Steve considered it a good opportunity, though, and began to withdraw his hand, but before he could get far, Tony’s tongue poked out, teasing the wet forefinger. Steve halted, just long enough for Tony to shift his face and reclaim the finger, now with the middle one joining the first. The hold of his teeth was firmer now, his shoulders clearly tensing. Steve wished he could see his face, although he assumed Tony was frowning in concentration, clearly unhappy with something.
Another sound vibrated faintly against his fingers, low and disappearing into the noises around them. He could feel each of Tony’s exhales on the skin of his hand, a faint trail of wetness sliding down across it when Tony didn’t lick or swallow in time.
Steve closed his eyes, trying to ground himself. This was so far beyond anything he had thought he was signing up for, and nothing was even happening. Remembering he was their only line of defense, however, Steve forced himself to look around again, pretending to be less alert, seeing as he was supposed to be a little buzzed from the drinks he had consumed earlier.
Tony laughed abruptly, the sound traveling across his skin, muted but clear in Steve’s sensitive ears. His fingers were released without warning, coated in saliva. Not even a parting lick, Steve noted, and he moved to wipe his fingers clean on his pant leg. “We’re in business,” Tony declared, still typing commands, but from his posture Steve could tell they had gotten what they came here for. This was why they had initially decided it was worth the risk and effort; Tony could do it. He just needed to get close enough and work his magic.
Reminded that they were still vulnerable, Steve looked around. It was unsettling that their cover hadn’t been blown; that no one was even suspecting something forbidden was going on. How long had Tony spent under the table? A half-hour, easily. Wasn’t that suspicious? What did these people think he was doing?
Steve’s hard-on reminded him of exactly what they might think Tony was doing, which was a bit ridiculous, but then again, Steve was fairly certain he could go for half an hour easily if he tried… Not that he had, nor was there a reason to, but…
Tony moved, pulling back slightly, and Steve could see him putting his things away, then starting to fix the wall panel back into place. No trace would remain that they had been here, and whoever wanted to hog the glory of arresting these people to give them their day in court would have what they needed.
When the panel was finally in place and nothing looked out of the ordinary, Tony moved back between Steve’s legs and grinned up at him. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
Steve wasn’t sure what to tell him, but he welcomed the prospect of leaving this place. Tony started to slide back up to the seat when a young couple suddenly stopped by their booth. They looked at them, the guy definitely checking out the situation - then slid onto the seat on the opposite side of the table without so much as a ‘hello’.
“Don’t let us disturb you,” the guy said, grinning, and his arm wrapped around the half-naked woman promptly fell between her legs. Steve didn’t check to see whether she was wearing underwear. He suspected she might not.
“We were just leaving,” Steve tried to give them an easy, confident smile.
“You can walk with that?” the guy nodded towards him, and yeah, even while seated it was obvious Steve was painfully hard. He had tuned it out, mostly, but it didn’t help that Tony glanced down, too - and didn’t look at all surprised.
“Don’t be coy,” the woman winked at them and spread her legs, propping one on the table, giving anyone who might be looking a perfect view. Steve gave her a glance, knowing that’s what she was going for, and if he didn’t, it might seem suspicious.
She was wearing underwear, but it definitely didn’t cover up anything with a hole sewn in the middle of it.
Steve glanced at Tony, trying to negotiate wordlessly. The older man shrugged and suddenly slid back under the table, which wasn’t what Steve’d had in mind; he was positive he could walk out with some dignity, instead of… this. Tony looked up at him expectantly, and the young couple did the same. Steve swallowed and lowered his eyes at Tony. The guy had sucked on his fingers; how bad could the next step be?
It wasn’t even in the same league, Steve knew that.
“Tell me you want it - and be honest,” Steve spoke up, despite the tension coiling inside him. He belatedly realized that in their roles, it was perhaps the wrong thing to say, so he attempted to cover up his uncertainty: “We haven’t exactly done this before,” he noted to the other couple, hoping they interpreted it in a way that wouldn’t blow their cover.
The guy nodded, still fingering the woman half-draped across him. “First time’s the hardest, but the rush is totally worth it.”
Steve swallowed again and wondered if he could get away from this situation, somehow. His eyes landed on Tony in desperation.
Tony’s wide eyes gazed up at him, nailing him in place. Steve’s chest felt tight, but this time in anticipation. He suddenly loathed the contacts that kept the brown of Tony’s eyes hidden beneath the unnatural blue.
“I want it,” Tony said with utter devotion in his voice. “Please let me suck your cock.” There was not a single person in the universe who wouldn’t have believed him - mostly because as far as Steve could tell, Tony wasn’t lying. And he could read him pretty well, mostly because they fought all the time, together and with each other.
Steve knew the next move was on him. For better or worse… The hand that wasn’t still wrapped around the leash tugged the hidden zipper of his pants open and pulled out his hard cock. The release from the confined space made him moan, although he tried to bite it back.
“Nice,” the girl mused from across the table, spreading her legs further.
Normally, Steve would have flushed crimson at the heat in her eyes - and the fact that she was staring at his erection. Right now, he merely bent his hard cock down a little, giving Tony another look, part of him afraid that he had read the situation wrong, but then Tony leaned forward, meeting the gesture half-way and his lips were definitely better around his cock than they had been around his fingers. The tongue was there, teasing the tip like he had teased the tip of his finger. Steve wasn’t certain if he was supposed to see the similarity, or have it forever imprinted on his mind whenever Tony put anything in his mouth, be it a pen or a banana.
Tony’s eyes fluttered shut. His hands remained down, one wrapping around Steve’s calf, but instead of squeezing painfully it just held onto the clothed flesh, as if grounding them both. Steve could feel most of Tony’s exhales, followed by the first sensation of hitting the back of Tony’s throat. The automatic gag-reflex kicked in and Tony drew back, face crunching up, but he went on like he was on a mission, not even pulling completely off, trying again and again until he angled his head slightly and Steve felt the difference as Tony took him deeper. It didn’t take long before Tony drew back again, to breathe freely, but it felt like a triumph of sorts and Steve slid a hand down to pet his hair to partake in his small victory.
It was clear Tony had done this before, although he was rusty. The skill was there, though, and Steve wondered who else had been here, in his place. He found he didn’t much like to think of it, and that may have led him to tug on the leash, just a little, and the hand in Tony’s hair tightening, urging him to take him a bit deeper, to test the waters of self-control in them both.
The rest of the club was vanishing, as was the couple close by. When Steve realized that, he blinked and looked around, to re-assess the situation; nothing had changed, the demo still going on, and the couple was there, the woman now riding the man’s cock with constant moans in her throat. It couldn’t be real, although anyone might hope they were doing a good enough job to make her sound like that.
In his lap, Tony shifted again, trying another angle, and damn, it was really good. Steve grunted, resisted the urge to push forward, then noted frantic movement on the other side of the club; men were running across the room, unmistakably carrying guns, and there was only one reason for that: the breach in their security had been noticed.
His hand clutched Tony’s hair and forced him to stop. Steve watched carefully, seeing another man appear, dressed like some kind of mob-boss, ordering the others around. Slowly, Steve pulled Tony off his cock, prepared for action. His and Tony’s safety depended on how fast he could move, without his protective uniform or shield. Mostly he was worried about Tony, who didn’t have a single layer of his Iron Man armor between him and bullets.
Armed men moved closer, across the floor and past patrons who looked a bit shocked at the sudden activity. Steve’s muscles tensed and he reached down to tuck himself back in his pants, no matter how painful it would be - only to have Tony lick between his fingers and along his shaft, halting his intended movement. The armed men approached their booth - then walked right past them with one glance at the fucking couple and the two of them. One of the goons even looked right at Tony, and then away again, moving on.
Steve released the air he had been holding, moved his hand and formed another kind of plan; no one knew who they were, and if Tony was as good as he usually was - of which there was no doubt - they wouldn’t know who had hacked them, or from where. If they just sat here, minding their own business, no one would suspect them.
Their eyes met, and if Tony knew what was going on, he didn’t appear concerned. Steve decided at that point that it was okay to just push his cock back down the other man’s throat and let him work it. He grabbed the leash, pulling at it, and he felt Tony’s groan. Both of his teammate’s hands were now clutching his legs, squeezing but not tight enough to signal distress, and Steve was positive he would know if Tony were resisting, or even hesitating.
There was nothing hesitant about the way Tony’s tongue worked his shaft, or the way his eyelashes fluttered, just slightly, every time Steve fucked deeper, forcing Tony down on him for that little bit of pleasure before he knew he had to let the other man back up for air. As a belated notion, Steve thought most of the high came from the fact that he was fucking the face of his teammate, a man he had fought beside for years but with whom he hadn’t gotten closer than a handshake, a clasp of shoulder or offering Tony an arm to squeeze the few times he almost died and someone tried to patch him up in the middle of the battlefield.
Before this night, Steve hadn’t seriously considered seeing Tony in a sexual light, although once he saw Tony’s get-up for tonight, it was hard to not go there.
His thoughts pushed him closer to the edge and he eventually hunched over a little, leaning down to whisper in Tony’s ear: “You’re going to swallow, right?”
Tony’s right hand flew up, fingers sinking in Steve’s hair as he sucked on the head of his cock. Steve’s hand pulled on the leash, increasing the pressure on Tony’s neck, knowing that his cock wasn’t deep enough for the light choking to hurt or be uncomfortable. His hips jerked, just slightly, his scalp aching as Tony’s fingers shifted for a better hold. Steve pressed his face flush against Tony’s head and he bit his ear, blowing hot air across the sensitive skin as he came with a white rush, Tony’s mouth never leaving him.
Steve leaned back on the seat afterwards, once Tony’s fingers released his hair. He looked up at the ceiling, blinking slowly, and felt a clever tongue moving up and down his shaft, possibly cleaning him up. A moment later he felt a weight moving, Tony crawling up and on top of him, a mouth nuzzling and nipping his neck.
The armed men moved past them again, this time in the opposite direction. None of them even glanced their way.
Steve lifted his head and met Tony’s eyes, but before he could even try and say something, Tony moved to kiss his lips, a wicked grin planted on his mouth.
- - -
“I’m just saying, this whole thing stinks,” Clint Barton exclaimed. “First, you refuse to debrief, which isn’t like you,” he pointed at Cap. “Then, the entire security feed from the main floor of the club is wiped out without warning,” he added, this time giving Tony a meaningful look.
Steve shrugged. “It was a sensitive mission, but everything worked out just fine.”
“I’ve never seen Stark’s lips look so puffy,” Natasha put in her two cents.
“Maybe I was biting my lip out of nervousness the whole time?” Tony offered. “You know, we could have gotten caught at any moment. Only, I’m more awesome than most covert agencies in this country,” he added, full of smugness.
“You did good, even if the security feed did get erased by accident,” Bruce threw in from the side, a knowing look on his face. Only, Steve had a pretty good idea even the scientist’s imagination didn’t go far enough to picture what had truly happened. Part of the time he couldn’t believe it himself.
Tony shrugged. “Not my fault; I delivered all the data I was asked to deliver.”
“Right,” Natasha raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “One day, you guys are going to spill. Probably the next time Tony gets drunk. He can’t keep secrets.”
“Can too,” Tony argued, then got up and saluted them all dramatically. “I have work to do. Cap, care to assist me? I need some… brawn,” he explained airily and Steve got up and followed him out of the room. Once they were in the elevator, Tony gave him a look. “I can choose to not kiss and tell.”
“There wasn’t a whole lot of kissing going on,” Steve pointed out, keeping his face so blank he felt like congratulating himself.
Tony gave him a careful look. “No, there…”
“I still have the collar, and the leash,” Steve spoke up, not really meaning to, but that was a better way of letting Tony know his true feelings on the matter than actually telling him he wasn’t doubting Tony’s ability to keep the events of the club hidden from the others.
The smile Tony gave him as the elevator doors opened was almost blinding. “Are you going to do something with those?” he asked.
Steve looked at the brown eyes, the hair still blond and the facial hair just starting to grow back. He had no delusions that it hadn’t been Tony, though.
“I can think of a few things,” Steve finally responded, and laid a finger across Tony’s lips, in a gesture that was usually meant as a sign to remain silent.
Tony thwarted it by opening his lips and taking the digit in his mouth, his eyes never leaving Steve’s.
The End