Happy Holidays, cap_ironman!

[cap_ironman_fe]

Title: Date Night - Comm Prompt #9
Author: five_ht
Word Count: 1,968
Rating: NC-17
Prompt Steve is fascinated by Tony's past promiscuity, they roleplay on it



Steve is nervous. He's shifting on the bar stool, hunched over like he's trying to make himself inconspicuous, which he's aware is both ridiculous and unnecessary. And it's fine, he's allowed to be nervous - Tony had assured him that there would be only limited amounts of actual acting required on his part - but seeing as this is, in essence, Steve's idea, it feels a little silly to be sitting here with butterflies.

He's sipping on the last mouthful of a tumbler of Coke, avoiding eye contact with the bartender and praying Tony doesn't make him wait much longer, when a body slides onto the stool beside him, brushing against him in the process.

"Hey there," Tony says, flashing Steve a practiced grin. Steve isn't used to that smile being directed at him, and for all its dubious sincerity, he finds it's kind of thrilling to see.

"Hi," Steve says, smiling in the way he imagines he would smile in this sort of situation, being approached by a beautiful man in a bar.

"Tonic water with lime," Tony says to the bartender, "And another of whatever he's having."

Steve swirls the ice around his glass, glances sidelong at Tony, "Thanks."

Tony smiles again, a little more genuine this time, and Steve makes an effort to sit up straighter, get into the role.

"What's your name?" Tony asks, and Steve panics for half a second, because, is he supposed to use a fake name? But everything he starts to say feels ridiculous.

"Steve," he replies finally, and Tony nods, giving him a sweeping look that makes Steve shiver.

"That sounds about right," he muses, and Steve doesn't even know what that means, "I'm Tony. What're you in town for, Steve?"

"I live here," he says automatically, because not living in New York just seems unnatural to him.

"So you hang out in hotel bars for the atmosphere?" Tony says, smirking and amused, taking a sip of his drink.

Steve takes a breath; Tony knows exactly how to wind him up. His confidence ratchets up a few notches as he replies, "Maybe I just like meeting out-of-towners."

"Lucky me," Tony purrs, angling himself toward Steve so his knee almost touches Steve's thigh.

"Lucky you," Steve agrees, and it's easy to keep character as he rakes his eyes over Tony's body, because he's beautiful and he's Steve's, and there's a war in his head, between jealousy and arousal, when he thinks about Tony actually doing this, with a stranger in a bar.

"How lucky am I, Steve?" Tony asks, leaning close, and the line is cheesy and absurd, but Steve licks his lips anyway, shudders at Tony's breath on his cheek, "I've got a room upstairs. Am I that lucky?"

Steve raises his glass to drink, hoping he makes a good show of actually considering it. He sets the glass back down, nodding, "I think you might be."

Tony behaves himself all the way through the lobby, and Steve follows two paces behind, enjoying the view. He expects to be tackled once the elevator doors close, but Tony just smiles at him, leaning back against the wall. Steve watches him, hesitating for a few beats, and Tony tilts his head.

"It's a little late to get shy on me, Steve," he says, his voice low, "Come over here."

Steve is on him in a second, kissing him like he's new. Tony lets Steve press him against the wall, sighing contentedly when Steve breaks off to mouth at his jaw.

"Mmm, I knew you were a sure bet," he breathes, gasping when Steve growls and pushes him harder.

Elevators are too fast nowadays, Steve thinks as the bell chimes and they walk out into the hall, looking only mildly debauched. Tony's room is an enormous suite, which is slightly insane, considering its purpose for the night, but Steve bites his tongue.

Tony leads him into the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling Steve between his legs. He licks his lips, pushing Steve's t-shirt up under his arms and humming appreciatively.

"I really am lucky, huh?" he says, ghosting his lips across Steve's muscles, running calloused fingers over his chest.

Tony holds Steve's gaze as his hands move down, smirking as he palms the bulge in Steve's jeans. He feels his face heat.

"Not going too fast for you, am I?" he asks, his beard scratching against Steve's abdomen as he speaks.

Steve shakes his head, finding his voice, "I just don't do this too often."

"Then allow me to introduce you to the wide world of casual sex," Tony says, working Steve's pants open with a gleeful expression. He yanks his jeans down a few inches and reaches into Steve's boxers to pull him out. He lets out a shaky breath that Steve knows isn't really acting, because he does it all the time.

"Oh," Steve groans as Tony bends down and laps at the head of his cock, stroking him until his hips are rocking and he's hard and straining against Tony's palm.

Tony sucks him like he always does, straining to get more in his mouth, hollowing his cheeks and humming with pleasure. Steve has to fight to keep still, concentrating on tugging Tony's jacket and tie off, fumbling with the buttons until he feels Tony's throat against the head of his cock and his fingers suddenly feel too clumsy.

"Get your shirt off," he says instead, moderately proud that he manages to sound commanding while Tony sucks his coherence out through his cock.

Tony obeys immediately, tossing the garment aside and then pulling his slacks open, reaching in to palm himself roughly. With a stuttered breath, Steve realizes Tony isn't wearing any underwear, and the thought alone has his hips bucking. Tony pulls off with a wet sound.

"I need you to—" he says, licking his lips, looking blissful and dazed, "You gotta fuck me."

Steve grins, nudging Tony's arm to stop him touching himself, pulling him up so he can shove his pants down. He drops back on the bed when he's done, squirming backwards, legs spread and face flushed.

"On top, come on," he says, "Last guy I had up here made me ride him, but you look like you could keep up."

Steve crawls over him, still in his clothes, and kisses him lewdly. Tony tastes like him, and Steve chases it into his mouth, licking at his teeth. When he pulls back, he feels a little crazy. His mind battles his dick, but his dick wins, because it's not as if Tony really slept with a stranger last night.

"Tell me about him," Steve breathes, trailing one hand down to press behind Tony's balls, earning a broken sound.

"Fucking pencil-pusher, nothing like you," Tony says, reaching for the lube and pressing it into Steve's hand, "It's just as well he had me on top, I had to fuck myself to get off with him anyway."

Steve pants into Tony's neck, pressing a finger into him, turned on and trying so hard not to rush.

"That's why I picked you out," Tony continues, spreading his legs wider for a second finger, "I needed man for a good, hard fuck," he clenches his hand in Steve's hair and Steve bites down on his throat, feeling like he needs to leave a mark.

"I can do that," he grins against the welt his teeth left, scissoring his fingers just as Tony whimpers for more.

Three fingers has Tony's hips rolling, and he starts whining up to the ceiling, "I'm ready, I don't need – I can take it, just fuck me."

Steve's mind swims with filthy remarks that he wouldn't dream of voicing if they were at home, in their bed, but here it feels natural to pull his fingers out roughly as he says, "You're pretty easy, huh?"

Tony huffs in amusement, "That's the nicest euphemism for 'dirty slut' that anyone's ever called me."

Steve squeezes more lube onto his palm shoving his jeans down further, then pauses, nearly breaking character. "Condoms?" he asks uncertainly. They haven't used them for months, but he feels like that should be part of the game.

"Where's the fun in that?" Tony smiles wolfishly, taking Steve's hand and bringing it down to smear the lube over his cock. He hitches his legs up around Steve's waist, arching his back until Steve's cock brushes over his hole, "I want you to come in me," he says, straight into Steve's ear, and if Steve drives forward a little too hard into Tony's body at those words, he can hardly be held accountable.

"Fuck," Tony rasps, clenching around him, so hot inside that Steve feels like he can't breathe. He pushes again, driving in roughly, and Tony groans, "Yeah, yeah, like that."

Steve's mouth can't coordinate with his brain anymore, so he gives everything over to his body, to the task of fucking Tony into a sobbing mess. Tony's pliant and eager as Steve presses his legs up higher, pushing them over his shoulders and bending him in half. It's a blur of motions and moans, and whatever character Steve had begins to slip, because this is too good and too familiar, and he can't pretend he doesn't know Tony's body almost as well as he knows his own. He sets a pace that would be demanding in another situation, but tonight has Tony thrashing, bucking for more.

"Harder," he moans, hands gripping at Steve's t-shirt frantically, "You can do it, come on, fuck me."

Steve presses Tony to the bed, throwing his weight behind his thrusts, drinking in that expression on Tony's face that lets Steve know he's got him in that perfect limbo between pleasure and pain. Tony reaches between them and clenches impossibly tighter as he wraps his hand around his own cock. His arm shakes as he strokes himself, like Steve is draining his strength and his coordination.

"You're beautiful," Steve finds himself saying, and the character doesn't even matter anymore, because it's too important that Tony knows, "Look at you, Tony, god, I could do this all day."

Tony moans, shuddering, and surges up for a kiss, "Is that a promise?"

"Yeah," Steve breathes, balancing on one arm to yank on Tony's hair until their eyes lock. Tony freezes for a second, then comes with a wail, breathless and bucking like it took him by surprise.

"Fuck, oh fuck," he growls as Steve pounds him through it, his muscles tensing all at once and then relaxing, letting Steve move him and take what he needs. Tony tangles his hands into Steve's hair, breathing heavy in his ear, "Fuck, Steve, fuck, let me feel it, come on."

Steve groans helplessly, just rutting into him now because pulling out to thrust loses too much contact. Tony bites into his neck and that's all it takes for Steve to come, letting out a string of non-words into Tony's shoulder and holding himself deep inside while Tony murmurs filthy encouragement in his ear.

When it's over he feels weightless, but he knows better than that, and he lets Tony's legs drop, pulling out and shifting to the side to allow for proper space to breathe. Tony doesn't let him go far, shivering and clinging to his shoulders, stretching out the fabric of his shirt.

"I should really get your number…" he murmurs, petting Steve's hair, "Steve, was it?"

Steve snorts, halfheartedly swatting at Tony's shoulder. Tony catches his hand, bringing it down between his legs, where Steve's come is making him slick. Steve moans, face still planted in Tony's shoulder.

"You up for round two?" Tony asks, sounding hopeful through his sated rasp.

Steve grins into his collarbone, still catching his breath but feeling arousal stir nonetheless. "Always."