Ghost in the Wires 10/10 (Steve/Tony--NC-17)
6 months later
“You are insufferable!” Steve growls as soon as they enter the mansion. It’s an ongoing argument that started the moment they were in the car with Happy and has carried on for now over forty-five minutes. It had amused Happy quite a bit, but he keeps professionalism like the best of them and it was only when Steve had glanced at him that he saw glints of amusement in his eyes.
Tony continues on through the mansion, tripping over one of Target’s toys and hissing, “Dammit, dog!” before turning back to Steve and saying, “I’m really not sure how this is such a big deal. I…”
He cuts him off. “You just announced to a press conference on live television that you were Iron Man, Tony! You have enough enemies between you and the armor and now they know you’re the same person!”
Tony rolls his eyes at him, heading towards their room. “Steve, everyone in Avengers mansion has given up the premise of secret identities. I don’t see how you can somehow expect me not to, especially seeing as I run a multi-billion dollar company. I can’t answer the call to fight crime in the middle of a board meeting without looking suspicious. It will be easier in the long run to just have the general public know.”
Steve follows him up the stairs and into their room. Target is on their bed, because Thor had gone to visit Jane and Darcy in New Mexico and where Jane was currently doing her work couldn’t have dogs, no matter how much Thor pouted. He jumps off the bed though when he sees Tony, wagging his tail exuberantly as Tony goes about taking off his tie.
“Pepper and Fury are going to personally rip you limb from limb,” Steve glares, ignoring the temptation of watching Tony strip out of his suit. “Rhodey looked like he may have attempted it then if you hadn’t both been on live camera. The man is a mother-hen and you know how hard they’ve been trying to keep you out of immediate danger.”
Tony’s jacket is over the back of the desk chair, and he’s working on his shirt buttons, his cufflinks already undone. Beneath the shirt is a wife-beater and he can see the faint glow of the arc reactor through it, even though Tony routinely tapes gauze over it to keep the public from noticing.
As he’s throwing the shirt over his suit jacket, he retorts, “Well it’s a good thing I’m not in immediate danger. I’m not in anymore danger than I was yesterday.”
“Yesterday a Hammer-drone attacked you.”
He waves his hand over himself, now only in slacks, socks, and his undershirt. He leans down to pet Target, having grown stoically attached to him. “And I’m still here, right? All in one piece?”
Steve feels his heart tighten in his chest and the pain must show on his face because Tony rakes a hand through his hair, now short. He meets Steve’s eyes with a bit of frustration in his eyes. “I know it’s still taking some getting used to, the entire me being alive after two years, but they should know that I don’t need constant protection. You should know that too, since weren’t you dead for seventy years?” he adds with a significant look. “You talk about Rhodey being a mother-hen? You can be just as bad, Steve.”
“Well,” Steve says dryly. “Forgive me for worrying about the man I love when he puts on a giant metal suit and goes dashing off into battle.”
“At least I have a metal suit. You have a shield and some bullet-proof plating in your suit’s top.”
Steve refrains from reminding Tony that he had re-outfitted his outfit with more than ‘some bullet-proof plating’. They’ve been going over this on and off since Tony built the Iron Man. “Tony, I don’t feel like having this conversation again. It isn’t the point.”
“No, the point is,” Tony says as takes the gauze off of the reactor, letting the blue shine through his shirt. “That everything will be fine. Stark Industries may fluctuate a little in the stock market. I’m going to have my ear chewed off for two hours each by Fury, Pepper, and Rhodey. Tomorrow there will likely be a few more reporters outside the mansion’s gate. Nothing else, Steve. Everything is going to be fine. So now can we give up on this really, really boring argument and focus on maybe, I don’t know, you fucking me against the wall; because that’s all I was thinking of at the conference.”
Steve can’t help the smile that takes over his face. It’s just so Tony and, god, as much as he can worry Steve, and annoy him, and drive him insane just by the way he takes almost no care of himself, he loves the man.
He looks to Target, sitting by Tony’s knee. He’s still a growing puppy, but his head reaches Tony’s thigh impressively enough. And between the six of them, he’s probably going to start writing down quantum physics equations here soon. Because as soon as he says, “Target, out boy,” he’s trotting out of the room and looking at them with a suspicious eye like he knows exactly what’s about to happen.
Steve shuts the door behind him, looks at Tony from beneath his lashes and gives a coy smile. “Against the wall, huh? Shucks, that sounds pretty alright, I guess,” he says. Tony, he has discovered, has a mild fetish for when Steve speaks ‘innocent’. According to Tony, it is its own dialect of English and sounds really ‘fucking hot’ when it’s from Steve.
Sure enough, Tony’s eyes get darker and a slight flush crawls across his cheeks. Steve ignores his own flush that’s covering his face and slowly creeping over his body to settle in his cock at the thought of having Tony pressed against the wall with his legs wrapped around his waist, clinging to his shoulders and breathing harshly in his ear.
He shudders as he takes a step closer to Tony, reaching out to touch his arm, squeezing as he rushes in to press their mouths together, teeth already working at Tony’s lower lip. He’s usually one for foreplay, but Tony, when he gets in these moods, likes fast and rough. He likes fast and rough most days actually, and though Steve isn’t always sure if he’s overstepping it with his superhuman strength always tries to make love to Tony how he wants it.
He nips at Tony’s lips, drawing a delighted moan from him, as he pushes him towards the wall behind them. He grasps as tightly as he dares at Tony’s biceps, hard enough that he’ll probably leave bruises, and that too bothers him, but Tony always seems to find a strange contentment in seeing them. When his grip elicits a gasp, Steve pushes his tongue between Tony’s teeth, curling around his tongue and moaning when they’re both slightly jarred as Tony hits the wall with a little more force than intended.
Tony revels in it though, especially as their cocks rub against each other’s body, breaks free long enough to gasp, “Yeah, yes. That’s really…that’s really good.” Then he crashes Steve into another kiss, breaking his arms away from the hold their in to start undoing the buttons of Steve’s plaid shirt, nimble fingers unholstering buttons at bullet’s speed.
The shirt is shed off his shoulders and they both spare a moment to yank off their undershirts, before Tony has attached himself to the juncture of his neck and shoulder, sinking his teeth down enough to toe the line of pain and pleasure and Steve has to bite down against the shout of pleasure.
The team is all absent at the moment, but it’s a habit he doesn’t want to break.
His fingers begin working at Tony’s belt, and when that’s done and the slack’s fly beneath it. He turns his head to lick the shell of his ear, smothering a grin when he hears Tony gasp. He about to pull the pants down when Tony’s hand flies into one of the pockets as quick as he can and pulls out a small tube.
He pulls back enough to look at Steve with lustful eyes. “I really have been thinking about this since I got stuck in that horrible make-up woman’s chair,” he breathes, his own hand pressing the tube into Steve’s palm as he wiggle out of his pants and boxers, kicking them off into a random corner of the room. He curls one leg around Steve’s waist, rolls his hips sinfully against Steve as he continues. “I kept imagining your fingers inside me, preparing just barely on the side of enough.”
Steve chokes on a groan. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to Tony talking to him like this, but he hopes he never stops. Despite the shock, the words and breathless tone go straight to his cock and with the way Tony keeps rubbing against him, he has to press Tony harder against the wall to keep his hips still, not wanting to end this too soon.
He nearly sends the cap flying across the room in his haste to get it open. With it spread over his fingers, he makes quick work of hefting Tony’s leg up higher, which causes a strangled noise to come out of his mouth as his cock is still trapped between their tightly spaced bodies, and begins pressing in, gently at first, but eagerly as Tony tries to move against him.
Steve smiles, amusedly, as he quickly presses another finger into Tony’s willing body. He leaves wet kisses on his neck, relishing the way he can nearly feel the small noises Tony makes before he hears them.
He’s only pushed his third finger in when Tony scrambles at his belt and pants, mumbling, “Okay, that’s enough. Time for you to fuck me.” Steve twists his fingers which almost distracts Tony entirely from his goal. “That’s not fair,” he breathes.
He doesn’t bother unbuttoning Steve’s pants, merely pulls down his fly and take’s out his cock, taking the lube that Steve had put in his pocket and pouring considerably less than a decent amount over to cover Steve in. He throws the tube on the floor somewhere behind them and braces himself against Steve’s shoulders as Steve lifts him up and guides himself into Tony’s tight, slick, heat.
They both groan loudly at the feeling, Steve tilting his head back to reach Tony’s mouth as he starts thrusting into Tony, minute thumping sounds striking a staccato rhythm with each snap of Steve’s hips. They’re both ridiculously close, and as their tongues wrestle each other, Tony’s grasp is getting tighter as he rolls his hips back onto Steve and closer to Steve’s belly in search of more friction.
It’s over too fast for either of them, but they come with smothered groans, stuttering breaths, and Tony clutches at Steve as he milks the last of his come out of him. Their foreheads rest together as they breathe the same air. Steve can suddenly feel the arc reactor pressing against his chest and it’s soothing, still to feel the whir of it on his skin and not feel the webbing of the palladium poisoning.
He presses his hand to Tony’s neck and hears a breathy chuckle come from him. “Yeah, that was so much better than arguing.”
Steve snorts. “You’re still not out of trouble.”
“Yes, dear.” Tony gives him a kiss that could almost be chaste for him and they disentangle themselves from each other.
They shower quickly and dress in lounging clothes. Target is at the door bouncing off of it in an attempt to get them to leave quicker and Tony starts mumbling, “I’m going to lock that thing in the cellar,” as he reaches for the door.
Steve stops him though, tugging him back and wrapping him in a tight hug. “I love you.”
Tony’s surprised at first but relinquishes to Steve’s hold. “Okay, that’s good to know. I love you too.”
Steve smiles and presses a kiss to his temple, missing the longer, shaggy hair, before heading down to the lab with Target close on their heels. They’re almost there when they hear one of the doors slam and Natasha’s voice rings loud and clear through the hallway, “Stark!”
Target actually whimpers behind them as Clint calls, “Hide, metal-head!
“We can sneak out the back,” Tony says suddenly.
Steve rolls his eyes. “You said it would be okay. Time to see how okay it really is,” he says pressing his hand to the small of Tony’s back and leading them back upstairs.
It’s going to be a very long night of making sure no one actually pulls Tony limb from limb, even if he probably should be beaten with his own arm every now and then.
Steve smiles when they crest the staircase to see Natasha’s furious and near worried glare.
There are no more reoccurring sixes that dog the house or SHIELD headquarters. There are no more empty spaces glaring around Ms. Potts and himself. Steve has stopped following a ghost.
He has Tony.
His ghost in the wires, come to life.
Back to Part 9