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"Take me for a ride," Tony said, breaking the Sunday afternoon quiet.

Steve startled up from his newspaper, eyes wide. "What?"

Tony grinned with predatory intent. "On your bike, Steve. Take me for a ride." He watched Steve's throat bob as he swallowed.

"Okay. Where do you want to go?" Steve tossed his paper aside and went to the front cupboard where he pulled out his jacket along with Tony's.

Tony shrugged. "Don't care."

Something like anticipation flashed through Steve's eyes, and Tony resisted the urge to smirk. The super serum would be the only thing keeping the bike rubber-side-down with Steve as worked up as he was going to be, driving himself crazy wondering what Tony had planned.

Steve held out Tony's jacket, and he shrugged into it, following Steve out the door and into the elevator. Down in the garage, Tony let Steve pick which bike, watching his eyes flick over their choices. He smiled to himself when Steve settled on a refurbished Harley instead of one of the flashier, modern choices.

Steve settled on the bike, and Tony slipped on the small seat behind, pulling on his Iron Man-themed helmet. Steve never wore a helmet; the police were used to him by now. Tony slipped his arms around Steve's waist, making sure not to touch or tease, knowing that would torture Steve even more, the uncertainty of it all.

They sped out of the garage, slipping into traffic. The weather left a lot to be desired, heavily clouded with a little droplet of rain every now and then, but the speed of the bike as they darted down side streets and dodged taxis made it hardly noticeable.

Steve was gifted on the bike, tipping easily into the curves, even with Tony's extra weight on the back. Tony breathed in the musk of Steve's leather jacket, stretching his fingers out so his palms were pressed firmly over Steve's abs as they flexed and tensed, controlling the shift of the bike's weight.

Ostensibly, Tony was clinging to Steve's back, but Steve slowed as they hit quieter streets, and suddenly Tony felt like Steve was plastered against his chest instead, Tony's arms holding him up instead of holding on.

When Tony's eyes were stinging from the wind and his heart was racing from Steve's closeness, Tony leaned forward and whispered, "Take me home," in Steve's ear.

Steve skidded to a halt and spun the bike around one foot before taking off again, towards the tower. Tony's stomach dropped out, and he laughed, holding Steve tighter. The drive back was charged, electricity crackling between them. Tony worked one finger under the hem of Steve's t-shirt and teased the chilled skin there, not sure if Steve could even feel it, but unable to resist touching him any longer.

They pulled into the garage at neck-breaking speed, and Steve - the daredevil - screeched into his parking spot. His chest was heaving - Tony could feel it rise and fall under his hands - but he didn't move.

Tony ran both hands down Steve's stomach to sprawl out over his thighs, digging in a little. "Grab the handlebars," Tony said firmly. He felt the shudder ricochet down Steve's spine.

Steve returned his hands to the handlebars. Tony drew new paths with his hands, down the sides of Steve's legs, up his thighs to his ass. He grabbed two handfuls of Steve's belt and pushed.

Steve folded up over the handlebars, hands trapped under his stomach, ass high, in front of Tony like goddamn beautiful gift. "Hold yourself up," Tony commanded. "You sit back down? You don't come."

"Yes, Tony," Steve rasped, his legs already shaking with the mental effort; there was no way they were physically tired already.

"Good boy." Tony reached around, wriggling Steve's belt out of its clasp then dropping his fly. He tugged his pants down over his ass, leaving Steve's cock trapped in the tight denim.

Steve groaned as Tony petted over his perfect rear. He teased one finger behind Steve's balls, stretching out the elastic of his underwear then snapping it tight again, against his perineum, grinning when it made Steve yelp and flinch. He leaned forward and ghosted hot breath over Steve's skin, feeling him shudder again, Steve's whimper vibrating through his whole frame.

"God damn," Tony purred. "You suit this bike something fierce, Steve. Maybe I'll hire a photographer. Get my own pin up calendar made. You draped all over these gorgeous machines." He took two handfuls and squeezed, spreading Steve's cheeks wide so he could breathe hot air over his hole. "Maybe I'll dirty you up right now and then go get the camera."

Steve whimpered, and Tony dove in. He licked a swathe over Steve's hole then sucked, running his tongue around the rim, willing it to relax and let him in. It didn't take much; Steve was still loose and wet from their play that morning, and Tony found himself regretting not plugging him up so he could see some of this morning's come slip free when he tugged it out and replaced it with his cock.

"You didn't come this morning, did you baby?" Tony asked, grinning when Steve grit out a frustrated, no. "I asked you to do something and you didn't - what was it?"

"You - ah - you asked me to stop teasing you in the shower, but I - I didn't listen."

"Yes. Exactly. So now, you have a second chance…" Tony swirled the pad of his thumb over Steve's wet hole then pressed it in, less than an inch, just stretching, easing. "Be good for me this time, and I'll let you come. Screw up again, and you have to wait even longer. Got it?"

"Yes, Tony."

"What do you have to do?"

"Not sit down."

"Good boy." Tony pushed his thumb in further, groaning softly as Steve's slick heat swallowed him. "I know you can do it."

Steve whimpered again, rocking his hips back towards Tony's touch, and Tony took pity on him. He swapped his thumb out for two fingers and pressed them in deep. It was a little rough, nothing more than old lube and Tony's spit to ease the slide, but Steve made a high-pitched noise of pleasure and pressed his hips back as far as they could go.

"Mmm, look at you open up for me. So lovely." Tony bent down again and buried his face in Steve's ass, licking and teasing around his fingers, drawing them out, then pressing them in again even deeper, even wetter. It wasn't long before he added a third finger, stretching Steve as open as he could. He kept going, getting Steve slick and sloppy and desperate, until he couldn't take it anymore, his cock a growing insistence against his thigh.

Tony stood up, bracing his feet on the foot rests of the bike. He shoved until Steve collapsed forward, folding awkwardly over the handlebars, naked ass in the air. He was panting and whining, wet and wanting. "God, you look beautiful like that," Tony murmured.

He made short work of his own fly, opening his pants just enough to ease his cock out. As soon as he stroked his hand over his length, he moaned and tipped his head back, letting his eyes flutter shut for a moment. He was so hard, needed Steve so badly.

He spat on his hand and slicked his cock then leaned forward until he was pressed up against Steve's backside. Steve's pants still had his cock trapped against the front console of the bike, but Tony knew he could come like that, would want to come like that.

Tony ran the head of his cock over Steve's ass, gasping as it caught on his rim, as if it was drawing him inside. He pressed forward and they both groaned in unison as he sunk in. He braced his feet on the bike and wrapped his fingers through Steve's belt, then bottomed out in one long, slow side. The bike wobbled a little as Steve's strength failed him momentarily, but he kept it upright, trapped between his shaking thighs.

Tony's heart pounded, the combination of the unsteady footrests under his feet and the sheer intensity of Steve's heat - a little too rough, a little too raw - flushing adrenaline through his veins. He rocked back, feeling every delicious inch of the slide then pressed in again, finding a rhythm that had them both gasping for air. He could see Steve's hands still twisted around the handlebars on either side of his chest, knuckles white. Steve looked so dirty and debauched this way, with his pants barely pulled down and his precarious grip on the bike. The clench of his thighs only made him tighter around Tony's cock.

Steve's feet wobbled again, and Tony slammed deeper, angling his hips to press his cock against Steve's sweet spot with every thrust. "Come on, baby," he purred, sliding his hands up Steve's sides, under his shirt. "You've been good for me. You can come. But don't let me fall."

Steve moaned, eyes squeezed shut, barely able to get a breath in with his chest pressed hard against the front of the bike. Then his whole body started shaking, his muscles clamping down impossibly harder around Tony's cock, and he cried out, coming untouched in his pants.

"Fuck, that's hot." Tony grabbed Steve's hips again and thrust into him with abandon now, chasing his own pleasure. Steve cried out as Tony scraped ruthlessly over his prostate, and Tony watched him moan and drool, folded over the handlebars, pleasure coursing through him. He was building, close now, and all it took was Steve gasping out a tiny, broken, Tony, to push him over the edge.

He pressed deep, fingers scrabbling against Steve's skin, and pulsed inside him, his come mixing with this morning's. When his brain came back online, Tony sat back on the bike, gripping the edge of the seat to steady himself. "Okay, sweetheart," he said, "come here."

With a violent shudder, Steve slipped down, his whole body shaking as he collapsed on the bike. It titled wildly, and Tony clung to the back of Steve's jacket with a yelp. Steve got it steadied on the kickstand then tipped back until his head rested on Tony's shoulder. Tony petted his chest gently and kissed the side of his face.

"Holy shit," Steve muttered, "did you have that planned all along?"

Tony chuckled. He kissed his way across Steve's brow and down his jaw. "Maybe."