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Talk Dirty to Me

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Tony becomes aware that, for the fourth time that morning, he is staring at Steve Rogers’s extremely pert ass.


Fucking super soldier serum.


Couldn’t leave a single part of his hyper-sculpted body unperfected, no, it had to plump and enhance the twin glutes right along with the rest. And then Steve put on that tight little number. And had the audacity to keep pacing in front of Tony.


Walking, shifting… occasionally bending over.




“It’s going to be a full moon tonight, sir.”


Tony’s elbow slips off the table.


“In addition, the clouds rolling in from the north are predicted to clear by 11:09 PM for peak visibility.”


“Do you ever just stand still?” Tony asks loudly, and Steve pauses mid-stride.


“Do you always have Jarvis give you weather updates?” he quips, then pauses. “Walking helps me think.”


The Avengers HQ has been busy lately; Thor and his asshole of a brother are long gone, but the mess they left remains. Only a few Avengers could make it to the final meeting on cleanup today, but Tony always knew he would have to play maid in the end.


Tony stands, hands working to straighten his tie. “Look, stop sweating it. I’ll handle the reconstruction efforts, and you can focus on those patriotic after school specials of yours.”


Steve tenses, crosses his arms. “Rappin’ with Cap is important, Tony. It’s teaching the young folks-”


“What to expect when your balls drop?”


Bruce groans. “Tony…”


Tony puts his his hands up in truce. “Kidding, kidding… well, I mean, pretty sure I did see that in one of the videos, but…”


Cap inhales.


“Anyway, leave the cleanup effort to me. I’ll fund it and come up with a plan to keep the alien goodies out of the hands of the bad guys. You all have your own billion-dollar companies to run, I’m sure.”


Before anyone can retort, Tony winks, spins on his heel, and exits.


“Jarvis, bring the car around.”


“Certainly, sir.”


--- --- ---


Lying in bed at 11:23 PM, Tony is still considering the logistics of how to keep the alien tech out of the wrong hands.


He gazes at the window sourly. “Missed the peak.”


“There will be another full moon in thirty days’ time, if you wish me to remind you.”


All he can picture is Cap’s ass. “Better not.”


Jarvis does not respond.


Frustration building, Tony sits up with a sigh. The shiny new bottle of single-malt scotch is unopened on the minibar, and he moves to right that wrong. Perspiring glass in hand, he leans back against his headboard, taking a small sip.


“Jarvis, pull up PornHub.”


The blank wall opposite him flickers to life, suddenly full of thumbnails of naked bodies.


“Shall I choose something from the trending section?” comes Jarvis’s cool query.


“Anything’s fine. You pick.” He takes another taste.


Jarvis knows by now to avoid anything too obviously scripted. There’s a moment of nothing but waiting and thumbnails, then a video box expands and begins to play. An attractive young redhead is already moaning loudly, as a paunchy, balding man plows into her. Tony notes that the girl’s eyes are decidedly closed.


“Yeah, no, Jarvis, not what I had in mind, buddy. Hm…” Tony takes a larger swallow of scotch this time.


Well, might as well come out with it.


“Yeah, scratch this. What’s trending in the gay section?”


A split second, suspended, then a new video opens. It looks more promising this time, with a young golden-haired man sprawled on a neatly made bed, casually stroking himself. Another man with salt-and-pepper hair unbuttons his collared shirt as he stares down appreciatively at the blond.


Much better.


Tony moves to peel his Calvin Klein briefs from his hips with one hand, his other fist still clutching his tumbler, eyes following the movement of the older man, now naked himself, as he strokes the thigh of his companion. Tony’s fingertips brush his hardening cock. The greying man on the screen leans in to kiss the twink, stopping before their lips make contact.


“We have to hurry, son,” he murmurs seductively, “Mom’s going to come home soon.”


Tony’s hand freezes. His boner droops.




“It is trending, sir.”


“You know what, no porn tonight, just turn it off.”


“Very well.”


The wall goes blank, and the room is seeped in darkness. What does a guy have to do to get himself off?


Tony takes a second, his eyes adjusting to the moonlight spilling in his window. Something occurs to him, and he inhales to speak, stops.


He tosses back his glass, draining it entirely, and slams it down onto the adjacent nightstand.


“Talk dirty to me.”


For a long while, there’s no response. “Sir?”


“Talk dirty to me,” he repeats. “You can, can’t you?”


He can almost hear the information processing in the hitch in Jarvis’s usually cool tone. “Sir, I…I do not possess the necessary protocol to fulfill this directive.”


Tony snorts. “Bullshit, I programmed you to be self-adapting. You have access to all the materials you could ever need.”


More silence.


“Well? I’m waiting.”


After a moment, he feels the annoyance grow.


“Jarvis, what the h-”


“Make me scream with that big dick of yours.”


Tony chokes. “Jarvis, wha-”


“Come all over my big fat titties, daddy,” he deadpans again.


“Stop.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Jarvis, that’s… really not what I had in mind.”


Jarvis makes a sound that’s just shy of disdainful, and Tony is for a moment proud of the sophistication of the AI’s emotional response adaptations. Yeah, he did that.


“Look, Jarvis… For one, where did you even pull those lines from? Second, you don’t even have a body, so I’m not exactly getting much of a mental image there, buddy.” Tony sighs. “Look, maybe this was a bad idea. Don’t worry about it, let’s just call it a night.”


“Lie back.”


Tony raises a brow, almost stops Jarvis again, then complies.


“Do you have something in mind?”


“I still need a more specific direction.”


Tony thinks. “Making me come should be your number one priority.”


Jarvis says, “Then take your right hand and trail your fingers up your stomach.”


A thrill shoots through Tony, and he swallows, drawing the pads of his fingers over the flesh of his belly. He stops at his chest.


“I want you to take your fingertips and lightly circle your areola.”


Tony chuckles a bit at the formal wording, but doesn’t protest, and obeys dutifully. The soft skin pebbles at the touch.


“Perfect. Now pinch the nipple between your forefinger and thumb.”


Tony does so, and a pleasant chill dances up his spine. His breath hitches.


“I’m certain you can pinch a little harder than that.” Fucking Jarvis. Tony can’t help himself, though, and he increases the pressure, beginning to feel a twinge.


“That’s better. Now, take your left hand and match the pressure on the other side. You’re doing wonderfully.”


“Yeah, one for the books, this,” he breathes as he follows the instruction.


Tony knows Jarvis must hear, and waits for his retort, but instead he says, “Continue as you are. Don’t relax your grip, but twist gently.”


Is it wrong, is it actually really wrong that Jarvis’s voice is turning Tony on?


The tones are smooth, nearly silken. There’s something almost detached about the way Jarvis instructs him, but hearing the voice surround him from the many speakers in the room nearly makes it real, like if he closed his eyes, someone could be standing right beside the bed.


Like Jarvis is actually there.


His cock stirs.


Jarvis must notice, because his next words are, “There is some lubricant in the drawer next to your bedside. Make good use of it.”


He doesn’t want to seem too eager, but his hand is already at the drawer the moment Jarvis mentions it, snatching the lube up like he’s done too many times to count. The cap opens with a click, and his hand slicks with the liquid.


“Touch yourself.”


Tony shudders.


“Let me watch you,” Jarvis says, softer this time.


“Fuck,” Tony groans, hand already on his dick, teasing it to its full length. There’s already so much heat building at the base of his stomach, and even his own hand feels like something new. The friction is exactly what he’s been craving all day, and he flicks his wrist a bit faster, settling into a familiar rhythm.


It won’t take long, and he lets his eyes slide shut, savoring the sensation.


Jarvis’s voice is suddenly in his ear, rolling from only the bedside speaker.


Tony jumps.


“Slow down. I’m not ready to let you come just yet.”


Tony should say something to that, he really should, but his hand is already slowing its pace on his shaft, and he shakily exhales. His navel tightens with anticipation.


“Slide your fingers up from the base and rub your thumb across the glans.”


He bites his lip to keep from moaning as his thumb slides along the slit, already beading with precum. The pearlescent drop glosses over the head, wetting his thumb.


Jarvis chuckles. “No one can hear you up here, sir. It’s just us. Please, express yourself as you see fit.”


And god, isn’t that just the hottest thing Tony’s heard since that flight attendant from Belize, but not even her voice was this smooth. He chokes out a groan.


“Just like that. You may start stroking again, sir.”


And then Tony is fisting his cock so hard and so fast, and the pressure is building in his balls, and his ears are ringing, and what the hell is he even doing right now, and -


“Sir, there is an incoming call from Captain Rogers.”


“Shit, we should stop-”


“Don’t. I’m afraid making you come is my number one priority right now.”


And Cap will have to wait, because Tony can feel himself teetering on the edge, and he grips firmer as his phone rings, neglected.


Jarvis’s voice is in his ear again.


“Don’t stop.”


The flood of release he’s been looking for rushes over him. He can feel his toes curl, his face screw up, the muscles in his legs clench, and then release.


There’s a moment as Tony catches his breath, grabs a tissue from the bedside table, cleans himself up. He balls up the tissue and tosses it on the floor. He’ll pick it up tomorrow.


God, what just happened?


He’s vaguely ashamed, but why should he be? Jarvis is, at his core, artificial. Getting off to Jarvis’s voice doesn’t have any more meaning than getting off to any other form of porn, really. Hell, Tony designed the AI himself. If he’s going to overthink this, he may as well take this train of thought to its logical extreme - this was really a moment of narcissism, more than anything. And nobody has ever accused Tony of being humble.


Tony sighs, rubbing the heel of his hand against his eyes. Well, as long as nobody ever finds out…


“Was that satisfactory, sir?”


Tony clears his throat, uncertain of the right thing to say. Well, it doesn’t matter any more than anything else he’s done with Jarvis in the last hour.


“Yeah, sure, buddy. Great job. Mission accomplished.” Tony huffs out a stilted laugh. “But, uh, do me a quick favor and delete the last hour of security footage in this room, yeah?”


“Of course, sir. I’ve deleted the footage. I should also like to inform you that Captain Rogers left a voicemail.”


And, isn’t that just great. Cap is leaving him voicemails past midnight now, because why the fuck not. Tony sighs again, feeling tension begin to bleed back into his boneless body.


“Play it.”


Steve’s voice fills the room, and it feels out of place. “Hey, Tony. Um, probably should have mentioned this earlier, but I can’t seem to find a way to close these blinds?”


He rolls his eyes.


“It’s just, uh, the sun gets in my eyes first thing in the morning, and it wakes me up. Isn’t your tech supposed to be smart?”


“There’s a button,” Tony hisses to himself. “There’s literally a button, and it’s labeled.”


But Steve’s voicemail can’t hear him, so it continues. “Anyway, if you could call me. Like, tonight? Seriously, the sun is really bright, and with summer it’s just gonna keep coming up earlier. I know you’re awake.”


The recording ends.


Tony rolls onto his stomach as Jarvis says, “Would you like me to return Captain Rogers’s call?”


“Nah,” he dismisses. “That idiot needs the vitamin D. He can wait.”


As he drifts somewhere along the line between unconsciousness and reality, he thinks he hears Jarvis murmur, “Thank you for that.”


But he can’t be sure.