Actions

Work Header

Doubling Up (Steve)

Work Text:

“Well,” Tony drawls, his gaze going from the bed to where Steve, and, uh,Tony are standing, next to the small pile where Steve’s shirt lies along with his trousers. “This is awkward.”

Steve blinks, taking in the man standing in front of their door. His skin still prickles where Tony had been touching him until the door burst open and Tony jumped back, thinking they were being surprised by Clint making a stupid joke or Vision being inappropriate or—well, anything else, really.

They hadn’t thought of locking the door, but normally, there would be no reason to. Aside from the rare interruption from their teammates, there was no danger of them being surprised in Tony’s penthouse – the security was top notch. Even on the off-chance someone managed to sneak inside, FRIDAY would have detected any intruder immediately and sounded the alarms.

Which makes Steve realize that, even though they looked nothing alike, even though it didn’t make anysense, he wasn’t insane in his first immediate impression – the man in front of their door is really Tony.

And Tony is, of course, standing right next to Steve, because they had been tangled together less than a moment ago, when Tony stripped Steve’s shirt off him with precise, determined movements.

But he is, also, at the door.

Steve frowns, because his head is starting to ache. Tony –his­ Tony steps forward, tilting his head at the Tony by the door.

“Are you… me?” he asks, and Steve feels a little relieved, because even though FRIDAY’s lack of alarm was enough proof, he’s still thinking he must be a little crazy for instantly recognizing the man as Tony.

Then the man tilts his head as well, staring at Tony with the same confused but also intrigued look, and there’s no doubt in Steve’s mind, anymore, if there ever was.

“I suppose so, yes,” the man says, and Steve believes him. He’s tall – Steve’s height, easily –, broad-shouldered, and he has light, piercing blue eyes instead of those brown orbs Steve loves so much, but he is, definitely, Tony.

“The link worked,” Tony breathes, and Steve finally remembers. The multiverse experiments.

“Thought you said there hadn’t been any progress,” Steve says drily. The man at the door smiles at him, his lips curling upwards just the tiniest bit.

“There hadn’t. Well, until now, I guess.”  Tony raises his hand, almost touching the man’s fancy suit. “Did you just come through the portal?”

He gets a raised eyebrow in response. “Yes? Though, to tell you the truth, the entire process happened quite fast. One minute, I was at home, ready to step inside and have a bath,”—his eyes glance at Steve for a second, sharp and penetrating—“and in the next minute, I was at your… your lab, I assume?”

“Yeah,” Tony says. “Sorry for the mess, but I wasn’t really expecting any visitors.”

“Clearly,” the other Tony says with an indulgent smile, his eyes still on Steve, wandering down from his face to his chest. Warmth descends over Steve’s body, following his gaze. “I don’t blame you though, darling,”—he stops at the front of Steve’s pants, where Steve’s undeniable arousal forms a clear tent, and moistens his lips. “You obviously had much more interesting things to think about.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Tony says, and his voice, casual with the tiniest hint of possessiveness, sends a shiver down Steve’s spine. He crosses his arms in front of his chest, and Steve is a little grateful that he hadn’t been able to take Tony’s shirt off yet, because the last thing he needs in this situation is the sight of Tony’s naked torso. “So, me—Tony—should I call you Tony?”

“No,” Steve says, and now they’re both looking at him, and—that doesn’t help the situation in his boxers, at all. “It’s too confusing. Isn’t there something else we can call you? Anthony?”

“My full name is Antonio,” the man replies. He turns to Tony. “You can call me Stark.” Then he turns towards Steve, eyes taking in his body again, but this time he stops at his face, in a crystal-clear leer. “And—well, normally, I’d say you could call me whatever you want, but for the sake of the situation let’s just go with Stark, as well.”

Steve straightens his back, knowing his face is probably fully red by now. He isn’t sure of how Tony – his Tony – would react to this flirtation, but he doesn’t want to risk upsetting him, even by accident. So he avoids Stark, turning towards Tony instead.

“You should take him to the lab. I’ll get dressed and meet you there.”

“Oh, please, don’t hurry because of me,” Stark interjects. For someone who has just been transported to a different universe, he doesn’t sound wary in the least, and suddenly it occurs to Steve he might not be fully sober. “I can wait outside. Take as much time as you want – hurrying can be fun, but it’s not really my thing, personally.”

Steve clenches his jaw. He has the distinct feeling Stark is eyeing him from his back, and that makes his skin prickle and his erection grow even more solid against the fabric of his underwear. “Stop that,” he chastises, searching Tony’s face for a reaction. Tony isn’t the jealous type, which Steve appreciates, because he enjoys the fact that Tony trusts him. He doesn’t react well to people blatantly flirting with Steve right under his nose, though. It makes him angry, and, sometimes, it makes him feel insecure – and, while the former can be unsettlingly arousing at times, the second isn’t a situation Steve is fond of. “Come on, I’ll meet you later,” he says, eager to get Tony out of a potentially uncomfortable scenario.

Except Tony doesn’t seem uncomfortable. Instead, he’s staring at Steve with the gaze he gets when he has reached a breakthrough – simultaneously distant and yet filled with undeniable intensity. Steve’s breath shortens.

“Sure you wanna do that?” Tony says in a whisper, leaning in a little further. His proximity does nothing to diminish the growing arousal washing over Steve’s body.

Still, Steve frowns at him. “We can’t just leave him outside.” As much as he’d like to go back to the task of losing himself in Tony’s body, he knows Stark’s presence would be impossible to ignore, even if he weren’t in the room with them. Steve would be too worried about the noises he’d make, wondering if Stark would hear, and, if he did, what would he think of it… All things he should not be thinking about.

“Actually,” Tony’s voice lowers even more, so only Steve can hear, “I had… something else in mind.”

At first, Steve raises an eyebrow, but, after a moment, it hits him. Certainly Tony wasn’t—“You—are you serious?”

Tony gives a small shrug that doesn’t match the intensity in his eyes. “Yeah? I don’t know, it’s not an opportunity one gets every day. I wouldn’t mind making the most of it. But of course, it’s just an idea. If you don’t want…”

Steve would have laughed, he really would, if it didn’t seem like every cell in his body was catching on fire. His mind fills with a single image of himself and Tony and—more Tony. “I, I,” he stutters, unable to even form words. “What if he doesn’t want it?”

“Then we know he’s an imposter,” Tony says, his voice soft as he raises a hand to gently brush back a lock of Steve’s hair. Then his smile grows, almost predatory. “If he’s me, there’s no way he’d ever refuse the chance to have you.”

Steve smiles back, but he can’t relax, too focused on Tony’s words—the words behind his words, the suggestion, the thought of both Tony and Tony

“Here, let’s ask.” Tony holds his shoulder and turns him to where the other Tony –Stark, Steve corrects himself mentally – is standing, watching them with attentive eyes. “Hey, do you—”

“If we are indeed the same person, I think I can safely say I know what you have in mind,” Stark drawls, slowly. His eyes are back on Steve, though, as he takes a step closer, stopping in front of him. When he speaks next, it’s almost in a whisper: “And I can hardly say I’m opposed to it.”

“As I thought,” Tony says, his voice low as he also comes closer. “So we’re all in favor. That’s a nice start.”

Steve’s heart hammers in his ribcage as response, just the proximity of them already making his blood rush, and Tony can definitely tell, because his hand reaches for Steve’s chin, pulling him into a firm, reassuring kiss. Steve can’t help but sigh at the contact of his mouth, lips parting as if on cue as he feels the delicious, familiar touch of Tony’s lips and tongue.

When they part, Steve turns to look at Stark. His eyes are chilling, the blue pupils darkened as they land on Steve’s lips, no doubt slightly reddened from the kissing. “You seem nervous, darling.”

“So do you,” Steve counters, and, as soon as he says it, he finds it’s actually true, from the way Stark’s chest heaves up and down as breathes.

Stark grins in response, looking both surprised and amused, and Tony, next to him, chuckles.

“Well?” Tony asks, his voice teasing, a harsh contrast with the reassurance and tenderness he approached Steve with. “Not that I mind having all the fun to myself, really, but you should know, I’m not usually the type that shares, so you should enjoy the opportunity before I change my mind.”

“Oh, don’t worry, darling,” Stark says, and something in his voice suggests a familiarity that should have been impossible between the both of them, having just met. Yet Steve has the distinct feeling they’re in sync, as if they both instantly know how they want to play this, and the thought goes straight to his cock. “I will.”

As soon as he finishes speaking, he leans closer, and, unlike Tony, barely has to raise his head to kiss Steve. Contrary to Steve’s expectations, the kiss begins fairly chaste, Stark’s lips barely moving against his own. The contact with his mouth is still electric, though – it’s been ages since Steve has kissed anyone other than Tony, and the thought that he both is and isn’t doing that right now makes his head spin.

Then Stark parts his lips, head tilting to fit their mouths together, and the kiss grows deeper, though never losing its slow, steady rhythm.

Stark is the one who breaks it, pulling away with a light smacking sound, his dark blue eyes staring at Steve with something he can’t exactly name. Desire, certainly, but also an element of sadness, longing, as though Steve isn’t right in front of him.

“You’re delicious,” he says. Steve blushes hot, and he notices Stark is also flushed and winded, as he makes a gesture towards Steve’s body that’s almost awkward. “May I…”

“Yes,” Steve says, when it becomes clear he doesn’t know how to complete the sentence. Stark’s hands climb to his torso, one landing on his waist and the other one resting on Steve’s neck. He keeps the touches chaste, though, his thumb drawing a small caress on his jaw, still staring at Steve as if he can’t be real.

Then Steve feels Tony come up behind him, his chest pressed against Steve’s naked back, and he can’t help but shiver at the contact with his lean, solid frame. “You know,” Tony whispers, silky voice caressing the back of Steve’s neck, making Steve inhale sharply. “If a kiss gets you like that, maybe you won’t be able to handle this.”

“You sure do enjoy talking, don’t you, darling?” Stark replies, sharp, and Tony’s laugh hums against the curve of Steve’s shoulder, the scratch of his goatee giving Steve chills.

“I do,” Tony says. Then he tilts his head upwards, leaning in until his mouth touches Steve’s earlobe. “But allow me to tell you—" he presses a kiss that turns into the lightest suction, making Steve let out a tiny gasp “—I’m not the noisy one.”

“Now that is an interesting thing to know,” Stark says, hand holding Steve’s chin and pulling him in for another kiss, much hungrier than the last one. His beard scratches Steve’s upper lip as he tilts his head, his grip growing firmer on Steve’s chin. He’s strong, Steve notices, and between the grip of his calloused hand and the scorching heat of his mouth, Steve is already dizzy by the time he starts feeling Tony’s mouth getting to work on his neck, leaving sucking kisses and light bites on the sensitive spots he knows so well. Steve quivers, his breath growing to small gasps against Stark’s mouth. They both work steadily and efficiently, as if Steve is a machine they know exactly how to fix, and the feeling of powerlessness sends a trail of fire down Steve’s chest, has his knees feeling weak.

“You’re sensitive,” Stark declares when they break apart. Steve can’t bring himself to respond, because Tony’s mouth finds a spot right below his jaw that makes Steve let out an embarrassing noise.

“Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet,” Tony says, his mouth moving against the sensitive skin, playing with the bruise he’s just made.

Steve can feel his flush descending to his neck and chest, aggravated by their attention. Stark smiles.

“I suppose I should start experimenting, then.”

Just as he says that, Tony’s hand slides over to Steve’s stomach, strong, skillful fingers barely touching him, knowing full well just the lightest brush will drive Steve crazy. His hands come up and down, teasing, never going below Steve’s belly button, deliberately nowhere close to his already throbbing cock.

Tony —” Steve gasps when a particular brush of fingers travels the slightest bit downwards, combined with a sucking kiss on the side of Steve’s neck.

Tony smiles in his response – Steve can feel it against his skin, but he can barely focus on chastising him for his teasing, because Stark’s hands follow the path above Tony’s, stopping at Steve’s pectorals. He cups them, eyeing Steve’s nipples predatorily.

“I always did like cherries,” he muses, and Steve tries to roll his eyes, but he’s stopped by the light touch of Stark’s thumb against his areola as he draws a tiny, nearly unbearable circle.

Steve can’t help it – he shudders, his reaction surprising Stark, who looks at him in hesitant.

“Don’t stop,” Steve tells him.

“As you wish, darling,” Stark says with another kiss, this time to Steve’s collarbone. Then he lowers his head, leaning down as if he needs to get a close look as his hands start working on Steve’s nipples, circling it and flickering the nub, watching as they grow erect and even pinker. “Oh, you are gorgeous.”

The praise flows through Steve like a warm, pleasant wave. His head hangs back a little, falling over Tony’s shoulder, and Tony’s hands also climb up, cupping Steve’s pectorals, pushing them together and lifting them a bit.

“You can call them tits,” Tony whispers, conspiratorial, to Stark. Steve’s face burns and yet heat curls low in his belly at the thought of Tony exposing him like that, displaying all of his weak spots to Stark’s merciless mouth and fingers. “He loves it.”

Stark’s eyes spark with interest. “Really?” He holds one of the nipples in between his index finger and thumb, applying light pressure and pulling, sending a spark of delicious pain in his wake. Then he tilts his head upwards, coming to whisper in Steve’s ear as both of his hands continue the movement, pulling and twisting. “Do you like it when I play with your pretty tits, sweetheart?” The pretty is like fire in Steve’s chest, his face burning of embarrassment and pleasure. “Do you like to hear that you’re pretty? Because you are. It’s— offensive , really, how pretty you are. It should be criminal.”

“And you still haven’t seen anything yet,” Tony continues, his hands going slowly to Steve’s hips, sliding over to his ass. “When he’s on his knees—let me tell you,” he gropes Steve’s buttocks firmly, spreading them a little, “he’s pretty everywhere.”

The honesty in Tony’s voice is almost too much. It’s hardly the first time he’s said those things, but every time, his words travel through Steve’s body, curling in his stomach, the pleasure in hearing them in a permanent battle against his instinctive embarrassment for wanting to. He opens his mouth to say something - he doesn’t know what - but he never finds out, because in the next moment Stark’s mouth is over his nipple, covering it with a wet, open-mouthed kiss, his tongue dragging over his sensitive nub as his lips suck like he’s never wanted anything else, and Steve can’t say anything, can barely think anymore.

“Tony—” he calls, head on Tony’s shoulder, arm reaching behind to find his neck. “Tony, I think I’m—”

“Okay,” Tony says immediately, relaxing the grip on his ass. “Okay,” he repeats, louder. “We should slow down a little.”

Stark stops, his mouth releasing Steve’s nipple with an obscene pop, lips glistening as he looks at Steve’s face. “Everything okay, darling?”

“Yeah,” Steve breathes. Tony presses a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth, and Steve has to smile a little at their immediate protectiveness. “I—I just think we should maybe… take this to bed,” he says, panting.

“That’s an excellent idea,” Tony says, his hand now on Steve’s bicep, moving up and down in a comforting gesture. “Anything else you think we should do?”

Steve blinks, trying to gather his thoughts together. The touch of Tony’s hand is nice, but he yearns for more of the overwhelming feeling from before. “Yeah,” he says. “You’re—you’re both wearing clothes. I think you should… not do that.”

Both of them grin. Stark pulls at his tie, loosening it before pulling it off in one smooth motion. Then he slips off his jacket, slowly, and it’s a transparent provocation of Steve’s stare, but Steve can’t bring himself to mind.

Next to him, Tony is a lot quicker, undoing each button on his shirt with efficient, fast fingers. When he’s done, he pulls it off his shoulders and tosses it aside carelessly. Steve’s mouth goes dry at the sight of his solid, tanned chest, tinged by the faint blue glow of the arc reactor.

As the clothes keep coming off, Steve, a little embarrassed, has to admit he’s risking hurting his neck by how fast he keeps turning from one Tony to the other, not wanting to miss a single movement, so he decides to go sit on the bed, where he can watch them both.

The sight leaves him even more breathless. They’re both so different, physically, and yet—there’s something in between them that clutches Steve’s heartstrings. They’re both so uniquelyTony, and that – Tony, Tony, Tony – is apparently enough to turn Steve’s brain to mush.

When Stark is only halfway through unbuttoning his shirt, Tony is already kicking his pants off his ankles, and he gets impatient.

“Do you need some help with that?” Tony asks, challenging, with a raised eyebrow.

Stark is clearly not one to back away from a challenge. “That’s kind of you to offer, darling.” He lets go of the buttons and opens his arms in a clear invitation.

Steve can see that it catches Tony by surprise. A flush colors his cheeks, and Steve kind of wants to thank Stark, because he loves when that happens.

Tony steps forward and takes his hands to Stark’s shirt, unbuttoning with too much hurry to make it seem casual. When he finishes, Stark’s torso is fully exposed, and Steve’s eyes widen; he knows what Tony is going to say before he says it.

“You don’t—” His expression is shocked. Stark frowns a little, intrigued. Tony gestures to his own chest. “Is your heart—Don’t you have any heart problems?”

“Not more than anyone else, I’m afraid,” Stark quips, now eyeing Tony’s reactor. His hand hovers over it. “Is that what you’ve got? Heart problems?”

“To put it simply,” Tony says. Stark’s fingers touch the surface lightly, and Tony flinches – he isn’t used to people other than Steve touching it. Stark immediately recoils his hand. “Sorry. It’s just—”

“Don’t be jealous,” Stark says. Then he smiles, and Steve can catch a glimpse of that same strange, subtle sadness. “I’ve got problems of my own.”

Tony raises his eyebrows, and for a moment Steve thinks he’s going to ask something, but then Stark looks at the bed and smiles.

“Looks like we have an eager audience.” Slowly, he lowers his hands to Tony’s waist, his tongue moistening his lips. It’s deliberate and Steve knows he’s teasing him, but he also notices he’s giving Tony time to back away if he wants to. Tony doesn’t. “We should put on a little bit of a show, don’t you think, darling?”

Tony smirks. “Thought I was the one who talked too much,” he says, before diving in to Stark’s mouth. Stark is pushed back a little, and Steve can imagine what he’s feeling, knowing full what it’s like to receive one of Tony’s hungry, demanding kisses. Want curls inside his chest, and it only grows as Stark quickly recovers, his hands flying to Tony’s ass and pulling him against his – God, Steve can barely catch a glimpse, but even then the tent in the front of Stark’s pants is enough to make his mouth water.

As the kiss deepens, Tony takes his hand to Stark’s crotch, palming him over his pants in a swift movement that wins him a gasp from Stark’s lips. He starts to unbuckle Stark’s belt, focused on the kissing, and Steve distantly acknowledges that they both must be fully aware of what it's doing to him, kissing wildly and pushing their crotches together, Stark’s fingers sink into Tony’s buttocks. Wet, exaggerated noises make Steve’s cock twitch, and he needs to touch himself, grabbing his erection over his underwear.

He barely gets to make one or two flicks of his wrist until Tony pulls away, and in a second they’re both turned towards him, both panting but focused. Just that gaze is enough to make Steve feel pinned to the bed.

“Now, I don’t think you should get the fun started without us, baby,” Tony says, and in a moment he’s by the bed, landing one knee on the space between Steve’s spread legs and taking his mouth in a deep kiss. His lips are hot, still flushed from the contact with Stark’s mouth, and the awareness of that fact sends a wave of arousal down Steve’s body, making him moan into the kiss.

The reaction seems to please Tony, who pulls back with a shark-like smile, before turning his attention to Steve’s neck and shoulders. Steve jolts at a slightly stronger bite, his body boneless against the work of Tony’s mouth, and he’d easily fall on his back in the mattress if Stark’s body didn’t show up behind him, his firm chest against Steve’s back, strong hands holding Steve’s waist.

He starts biting and kissing Steve’s back as well, much more slowly than Tony, but also more deliberately, even scraping his teeth over recent bruises. Tony then gets to his nipples, mercilessly sucking the sensitive nubs until Steve is seeing stars. By then, Steve loses track of himself – of what he says, what he does, even what he’s thinking. All he can feel is Tony – so much Tony, everywhere – and, when Stark grabs his buttocks, he can only sigh, resting his head on his shoulder and leaving his throat exposed to Tony’s mouth, that eagerly begins kissing up his jaw.

“Are we good, darling?” Stark asks, massaging his ass in steady, firm circles. His question is amused, though, and when Steve is halfway through croaking a breathless Yes, he spreads his ass cheeks and presses his erection between them, his hard length pressing over the fabric of Steve’s underwear.

Steve can’t help it – he moans and pushes back his hips, eager for more. Stark chuckles, rubbing his erection up and down the crack of Steve’s cheeks. Tony grins against Steve’s jawline, and lowers his hand to remove his own boxers, hurriedly shifting to kick them away.

Steve’s eyes are drawn to Tony’s cock. The sight – long, flushed, so, so beautiful – makes Steve’s body react almost involuntarily – he pushes back again, remembering the feel of Tony inside of him, stretching him out, and he wants, the firm pressure against the fabric not nearly enough to quench his yearning.

“You’re very transparent,” Stark comments. Steve, against all odds, manages to feel embarrassed even in that situation, with Stark’s dick in the middle of his ass.

“Shut up,” he says, at the same time Tony says, “He is, isn’t he? It’s adorable.”

Steve opens his mouth to protest, but his words are swallowed by Tony’s tongue, and then Tony is straddling him, his cock pressed against Steve’s stomach, wet and firm. Steve raises his hips, chasing the friction, and Tony lets him feel it for one glorious moment, before pulling away with one light bite to Steve’s lower lip, to sit at his ankles.

As if on cue, Stark pulls back, too. Without his support, Steve sinks, boneless, his head reaching Stark’s lap.

“Don’t take it as an insult, darling,” Stark says, surprisingly tender, stroking Steve’s cheek as if his own erection isn’t pressed against the top of Steve’s head. “It’s wonderful. You’re absolutely wonderful.”

And there is that longing look again, and Steve doesn’t care for it. He raises himself slowly and turns a little, pulling Stark to kiss him over his shoulder. The kiss grows long, Stark’s scruff a little stingy around Steve’s already puffy lips.

Steve’s hand goes down, blindly finding the band of Stark’s underwear, his back pressed to Stark’s chest. Steve pulls it, causing a light snap, and Stark gasps against his mouth.

“Hmm,” Stark hums, as Steve’s touch descends to cup the front of his crotch. “I see that you can also – ah­ – you can also, oh, be quite the menace,” he stutters as Steve’s hand goes up and down, palming Stark’s cock over the fabric.

“I want you to—uh,” Steve cuts himself short, moistening his lips. He catches Tony’s eyes watching them hungrily and his face heats, pleased. He knows he’s not the seductive type. To be able to hold their attention like this, then, it’s—well, Steve is finding it a little hard to speak. “To, to fuck me.” He knows his delivery isn’t perfect, but he’s certain it doesn’t matter as he hears Stark’s sharp inhale of breath. The sound fills him with confidence, and he wants to keep going. He flips himself in the middle of Stark’s legs, and leans forward, propping himself up on his elbows and lifting his hips.

Steve tries to not think a lot about the picture he’s presenting, because that will weaken his performance. He’ll mess it up, and he doesn’t want that. He wants Tony to keep looking at him like he is right now, like he can’t even believe what he’s seeing is real.

And he really, really wants Stark to fuck him.

“Take this off,” Steve demands, retreating just enough to touch Stark’s crotch again. Stark barely mumbles a reply and Steve’s already feeling him moving on the bed as he pulls his underwear off.

Steve looks at Tony and grins. Your turn. “Are you going to just stand there?”

“Depends,” Tony says, and his gaze is scorching. “Is that you want me to do?”

Steve swallows. “No,” he admits, and lets his gaze go to Tony’s cock, beautiful and already leaking. It’s as if Steve can feel the salty taste of the precome in his mouth already, and he trembles at the thought. He raises his eyes to Tony again, licking his lips in a silent plea.

Tony locks his jaw. “ Fuck —Okay, that’s a much better idea.”

He’s a little clumsy as he moves closer until his cock is only a few inches from Steve’s face. Steve watches as it bobs, flushed, and he can’t help but lean in, his hands going over Tony’s thighs, burying his face in Tony’s crotch. He inhales, pleased by the musky scent of Tony’s cologne mixed in with the smell of sweat and precome all over Tony’s girth.

He shifts, leaning a little closer. Tony’s cock touches his cheek, wet and hot, but Steve ignores it, tilting his head until he finds Tony’s balls, nuzzling them just the slightest.

Tony’s hips jolt forward. “You little— Ah,” he says when Steve takes one of them in his mouth, his tongue circling over it like a piece of candy. “Damn it, he’s right. You’re an absolute menace, it never fails to amaze me.”

“I can see why,” Stark says, sounding strained. “But before he finishes melting what’s left of our supposedly brilliant brains, darling, may I ask where do you keep your lube?”

“First drawer on your right,” Tony breathes. Steve keeps going, moving from one ball to the other, sometimes opening his mouth a little wider to suck both at the same time. He enjoys the short, gasping breaths Tony lets out – he loves those sounds, loves knowing he’s the one who’s causing them. “But he’s – nng – he’s not usually big on it.”

Steve vaguely acknowledges the bed shifting for a moment as Stark leans to open the drawer and grab the lube. “Oh, I bet he isn’t. But this isn’t just about him.” Stark’s hands find the back of Steve’s thighs, caressing his muscles in an upwards motion. “You said he’s pretty everywhere. I intend to see to that thoroughly,” he purrs, and Steve swallows hard, raising his hips more. Stark laughs, palming his ass. “So eager, darling.” He drags his fingers over Steve’s buttock, finding the band of his underwear and pulling it.

Heat climbs over Steve’s chest – he’s so exposed, and yet he wants even more, wants both Tony and Stark to have him entirely. He gives Tony’s cock a slow, long lick, feeling Stark spread his cheeks.

“Gorgeous,” Stark sighs, and Steve’s dick twitches at the praise. He gives Tony’s length a wet kiss and lowers his hand to touch himself, but Stark stops him, holding his wrist. “No, none of that.” He lowers himself over Steve’s body, his chest against Steve’s back, his erection pressed against Steve’s ass as he comes close enough to whisper in Steve’s ear: “That’s for me to take care of, sweetheart.”

Steve moans against Tony’s cock, and Tony’s hand goes to Steve’s hair as he jolts, his hips arching forward. Steve looks up – he loves the sight of Tony like this, breathless and flushed, his tanned skin glimmering with sweat, brown eyes half-lidded as he looks down.

“You’re killing me here,” Tony breathes, his hand running through Steve’s hair. “Shit, you’re beautiful. I know if me and him keep echoing each other it will start to get creepy, but—” Stark laughs, and Tony’s mouth twists in a grin. “It’s the truth.”

“Fuck me,” Steve says, and he’d be shocked at himself if not for the way Tony’s eyes widen and his hand immediately freezes on his hair. “You—you, too. I… I want you to do it.” His eyes go from Tony’s face to his cock.

It all seems to happen at the same time: Tony’s grip on his hair strengthens and Stark’s finger starts teasing the rim of his hole. Steve gasps, and Tony takes advantage of the opening to pull Steve’s head forward, feeding his cock to him in one swift motion. Steve shuts his eyes, his lips stretching as he nearly chokes from the quick intrusion, but it’s good, to taste Tony on top of his tongue, to feel him pulsing against the inside of Steve’s mouth.

Stve barely manages to focus enough to start sucking, however, because in the next second Stark’s finger is entering him, and it’s barely stretching him, not nearly enough, so Steve pushes back again, wanting to sink onto Stark’s hand. Stark grabs his hips, though, and Steve doesn’t need to look to know he’s smiling.

“What did I say before? This is for my fun, darling.” He introduces a second finger, making a light scissor motion, and the pressure is just foreign for a moment, almost uncomfortable, as if Stark is really just opening him to get a better look. Tony’s fingernails scratch the back of Steve’s hair and he pulls Steve’s head back, his cock sliding out of his mouth just a few inches, before pushing in again. “You didn’t lie,” Stark breathes, and Steve shivers at the hoarseness in his voice. “So fucking pretty.”

The curse goes straight to Steve’s groin, and his moan is lost around Tony’s dick. Tony keeps going, in and out, exiting slowly but pushing himself nearly all the way in when he pulls Steve’s head forward.

Stark adds a third finger, and it occurs to Steve they’re playing with him, going slow against his eagerness. The thought melts him, and he feels boneless, like he’s floating as they both use him as they please. Steve clenches his ass, wanting to swallow Stark’s fingers, tightens his lips around Tony’s cock making an obscene sucking noise, and still wants more, more Tony, everywhere, now.

Stark seems to read his mind, because he starts pumping his fingers in and out before pulling them all the way out in one slick movement. Steve huffs out a muffled protest, the absence of Stark’s contact nearly unbearable. He thinks Tony must notice, because he increases his rhythm, making his thrusts shorter and faster. Saliva starts pooling in Steve’s mouth, some of it leaking, sticking to his jaw, but Steve’s cock is leaking too, because it’s so good to be filled, to feel his mouth and throat loosen to take in as much of Tony as possible.

Then Steve feels the lightest touch of skin against his now sensitive entrance – the tip of Stark’s erection, that slides inside Steve so fast he gasps, choking on Tony, his eyes going hot with the overwhelming pressure and heat. Even with all the fingering, he still feels himself stretch painfully, and he’s dizzy by how much he loves the sensation of being opened up like that.

He tries to move his hips, desperate for more, but Stark keeps a firm hold, strong fingers digging into Steve’s hipbones as pushes himself even further – and then Tony pushes himself even deeper, and Steve can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but keep wanting, wanting to live like that, to never again feel anything that isn’t Tony’s cock, anywhere he can feel it.

They keep going, each setting their own pace, a cascade of noises and praise flooding the room. The sounds echo in Steve’s ears, and it’s impossible for him to focus, but he can vaguely grasp Tony’s usual rambling, filled with wonder and admiration, and Stark’s breathy endearments, sometimes whispered as if they aren’t meant for anyone else to hear, not even Steve.

“Baby,” Tony says eventually, clutching Steve’s hair so tight it nearly hurts. “I think I might—”

Steve hums, eyes wide open because Tony looks so beautiful when he’s about to come, Steve always makes sure he doesn’t miss it. His gaze finds Tony’s, and he knows he understands his silent permission, because the rhythm of his thrusts increase, getting shorter and sharper.

Stark follows him, and Steve sees stars as they both fall in sync, each pushing even deeper inside him. He clenches on Stark’s cock and hears him make a strangled noise. Stark’s torso goes down, over him, and his hands find the mattress at Steve’s sides. His movement never slows, though, growing even faster as he lets out an endless flow of praise that Tony quickly joins in, saying Steve feels good, so perfect, so fucking

It takes barely a few strokes of Stark’s hand for Steve to come. His body quivers and trembles, his vision momentarily washed over in white light. He feels as if he climbs and explodes, floating down afterwards in a light, slow motion, as if carried by the wind.

His jaw is lax, his mouth helpless as Tony keeps going, the stretch of his lips mixing with the slick, continuous movement of Stark’s dick inside of him.

When Tony comes, Steve looks up, and sure enough, he is a vision, so beautiful Steve can barely believe. Steve swallows his spunk, greedily sucking on his now softened cock; he can’t help it. Tony pulls back, and Steve’s mouth releases him with a light popping sound.

Stark comes a few moments afterwards, with a strong thrust that makes Steve whimper. Stark’s come floods him, and it feels obscenely good. A little bit of it slips down Steve’s thigh when Stark pulls out, and Steve feels used up, marked. Stark collapses over his back, and Steve enjoys the heat of his pulsing body, eyes fluttering closed as he smiles. He rolls over, shifting to keep Stark tangled with him, by his side.

He feels Tony’s hand on his hair, lowering to stroke his cheek, and he turns his face to press a kiss to it. He knows he must be a mess, flushed and sweaty with his lips still puffy and glistening from Tony’s slick, but apparently Tony doesn’t mind, because his mouth descends on Steve’s in a deep kiss. Steve’s lips part obediently, letting Tony’s tongue coax the kiss slow but through, as if Tony wants to taste himself in every part of Steve’s mouth.

“Hmm,” Steve hums when they pull apart. Tony grins, pressing a smacked peck against his lips.

Against his shoulder, Steve feels Stark starting to move, as if he’s sitting up.

“Leaving already?” Tony asks, but he doesn’t sound surprised.

Steve open his eyes. “What?” He looks at Stark, who has indeed sat up. He’s still breathless but clearly more composed, trying to gather himself together. Steve, meanwhile, is still too dazed from his orgasm to react properly, but he does his best. “Wait, where—where are you going?”

He realizes, too late, how whiney his voice sounds, and he's a little embarrassed. Stark doesn’t seem to mind, though, his lips curling in a fond smile.

“I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome.” Then he gazes over at Tony, and there it is, that same sadness. “Sometimes three is fun—other times, it’s a crowd.”

Steve touches his arm. “Just… stay a little.” Stark’s eyes widen, and, to Steve’s complete surprise, his face flushes. Steve tries to pull him in, even though his body feels boneless. “You two can work on the portal later.”

Stark hesitates, his lips pressed together. He looks at Steve as if his offer is dangerous – as if the entirety of him is. Steve frowns.

Then Tony interjects, “Oh, come on, we both know you’re not going to refuse those puppy eyes. Just give it up and come cuddle.”

Stark shoots him an annoyed look, and Steve probably interrupts a sharp reply when he asks, “Do you and… you know, the, uh, the other me. Have you two ever done this?”

A moment of tense silence follows his question, and that in itself is a response.

“This was probably a mistake,” Stark says, looking down at the sheet curled in between his fingers. “I… shouldn’t have taken you up on your… offer.”

Steve stares at him for a moment, and then he gets it. “He’s not going to mind,” he says.

Stark scoffs. “I think he will, darling.” His casual tone is forced. “We—me and him—we have definitely not done anything even remotely close to this.”

Steve blinks, slowly. “So you’re not together?”

Stark laughs, humorless. “No. No, we aren’t. I…” He takes a long breath. “I don’t think this would be something he would want.”

“Have you asked?” Steve questions. Stark finally caves to his pulling, lying down by his side. The solidness of his shape is a welcome feel, and Steve finds himself enveloped by them both, covered by a wave of pleasant warmth. His eyes start to feel heavy.

“No, sweetheart,” Stark says, with a sad smile. He strokes Steve’s bangs off his forehead. “He’s not as receptive as you, I’m afraid.” At Steve’s frown, he adds, “Oh, don’t get me wrong – he’s absolutely wonderful, and”—his fingers trail down over Steve’s face, finding his mouth, and his thumb strokes Steve’s bottom lip—“I think he might be even sweeter than you, when he allows himself to be.” His voice grows wistful, gaze distant for a moment, as if he’s imagining touching the other Steve instead. “I just don’t think I’m the person he’d want to see that.”

“Whatever,” Tony groans. Steve turns his head at him, outraged at his dismissiveness, and he pinches the bridge of his nose: “Look, I was in this spot for most of last year, and it sucks, so I get what you’re saying. Just talk to him, okay? It might seem ridiculous, but it’s all that it takes. I know you’re thinking it’s not that simple because it’s what I used to think, but, really, it was for me, and I’m pretty sure it’s going to be for you too.”

“I’d phrase it a little differently,” Steve says, turning to Stark. “But it’s true.”

Stark looks away, at the ceiling. “He doesn’t want me.”

“Now I know how Rhodey feels,” Tony groans. Steve lightly pinches the side of his hip.

“If he’s me, then he wants you,” he says, simply, holding Stark’s stare when he turns to him. “And he’s probably thinking the exact same thing.”

Stark doesn’t say anything, thoughtful, so Steve leans in and presses a kiss to his cheek. Then he uses his hand to reach down and pull Tony’s naked leg over his waist.

Tony hums approvingly. “Can we nap now?”

“Yeah,” Steve says. He pulls Stark closer, shifting until Stark’s head is on his chest. Steve runs his fingers over his short, dark hair, and Stark’s eyes flutter closed.

Steve smiles, knowing full well Stark isn’t thinking of him.

He turns his head to sneak in one more kiss from Tony before closing his own eyes, and, as he drifts off to sleep, his last thought is for someone who isn’t there: You’re welcome