It started with a question that Tony knew the answer to with perfect clarity and exquisite detail—it had been the subject of many a late time fantasy when it was just him and his right hand (and sometimes even with a bed partner)—but a question that Clint really had no business asking and Tony had no choice but to answer because he was playing truth or dare with his teammates, which, really, made it anything but an ordinary game of truth or dare.
Clint managed to swipe several syringes of truth serum, one for each of them, from R&D to ensure they’d answer truthfully (and honestly, even Captain Goddamned America?) and Natasha was enough to ensure that everyone did the dare they were required to (Steve was to make sure she did hers).
“So Tony,” Clint started. “Everyone knows good and well your sexual history.” Tony shrugged noncommittally and took a sip of his brandy. “So my question is this: what is one thing you have never done but want to do in bed that you would never willingly tell us about?” Tony paused, the brandy halfway back to the table before being lifted again and a bigger sip taken from it. Clint cackled gleefully while Tony paled and attempted to drink the entire glass in an effort not to speak. He then turned to look at Steve for an intervention, but the super solider looked just as curious as the rest of the team.
“I hate you right now, Birdbrain; I really, really do,” Tony growled.
“Come on, Shellhead. Answer the question. You aren’t getting out of this,” Clint cackled harder as Tony alternated between glaring, paling and blushing. He refilled his glass again and took his time finishing it. The others did not see the need to rush him. Clint was right; he was going to have to answer it anyway, whether he wanted to or not. Eventually, he opted to answer by mumbling softly into his glass. Natasha rolled her eyes and swiped the glass away, holding it out of reach as he nearly clambered over her to get it. In failing to do so (partially prevented by Thor’s heavy hand on his shoulder and a stern reprimand of “You are being a poor sport, Anthony.”), he sat back down with a huff.
“Fine,” he growled, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away from the group. In his periphery, he could see them all lean forward. And yes, even Bruce who was usually rather unparticipative of their “team bondings.” “Sex,” he answered, “With… um… you…” he made a vague gesture toward the group. Eyebrows shot up.
“All of us?” Tony grit his teeth because it really wasn’t fair; that was two questions.
“No. Not Natasha… Pepper would probably seize me by the balls and cut them off with nail clippers. I rather like my balls, really. Just the boys. At the same time… well, no. Not at the same time because I don’t think the five of you will really fit. Just you know, maybe max two at a time with the rest just… there… Oh God. Where’s my drink, Romanoff? I will dismember you. Give it to me.” Natasha handed it over wordlessly.
“Five?” Steve asked. Squeaked, really, but Tony was in no position to point out the embarrassments of others. He did a quick headcount and dear sweet baby Jesus, he should have shut up when he could (he couldn’t. Not really.).
“Er… yeah… the two of Bruce,” he downed the rest of his glass and, for good measure, half the bottle while the information sunk in the rest of the others’ brains. Then Bruce blushed terribly and downed his own glass. Steve and Thor looked thoughtful (well, Thor really looked more confused). Clint looked ecstatic with his successful attempt to humiliate Tony and Tony swore to junk the new bow he was building him. “Fuck you, Barton. Truth or Dare?”
The next time Tony heard anything about his revelation (and honestly, he was so mortified he practically planned every snark he was going to use to answer any smart comments about it. He never did get to use any though because his teammates (read: Clint) were so unnaturally silent about it that he almost—almost—asked. He didn’t because he didn’t really want to remind anyone about it on the off chance that they forgot), Steve had him pressed up against the wall of his bedroom and was kissing the living daylights out of him. He was in no position to ask or give any sort of intelligent response when Steve whispered “I hope you don’t mind that I’ve invited some of the others to join us” because Steve was grinding his hips into Tony’s and, really, did Steve honestly forget Tony’s deep, dark secret orgy fantasy with them? Should he be offended?
Steve seemed to take Tony’s pleasured gasp as a positive response and suddenly stepped back. Tony nearly yelled at him but Thor was suddenly in front of him and taking Steve’s place and suddenly Tony was boneless and compliant again.
He moaned rather loudly as Thor mouthed at his neck and lifted him up so that he could wrap both his legs around the god’s waist. He vaguely felt himself being pulled away from the wall and a body smaller than Thor’s and Steve’s pressed up behind him. His muddled mind helpfully offered “Clint” but the other side of his neck was being sucked and his ass being kneaded that he could barely rouse the indignation he needed to draw up a complaint. His sharp “Fuck you, Clint” turned into a breathy “Fuck… Clint…” and his head rolled back against Hawkeye’s shoulder as the two men rocked against him.
“Take him to the bed,” he heard Steve command and fuck him if that didn’t sound sexy. Clint stepped back as Thor complied with Steve’s command, lowering him gently onto the feather down pillows. Tony pulled him down for a kiss before he could completely move away and Thor allowed it with a deep chuckle before pulling back. Another mouth took his place almost as soon as they parted and Tony almost desperately clung to the body above him. He felt another set of hands on his chest, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt and pulling it off—fuck, he couldn’t keep track of whose was what—and another mouth against his neck. One of his hands slid into longish, shaggy hair (Bruce’s then) and the other into a short, spiky one (Clint’s), anchoring himself as he attempted to create some sort of semblance out of his thoughts. Every time his mind managed to form a coherent sentence, though, a sharp suck or a gentle caress managed to blast it into jumbled words again.
“S… stop. Wait,” he managed just as Clint and Bruce pulled away to seemingly swap with Thor and Steve who hung around the edges of the bed. The four of them visibly froze, their full attention trained on Tony, flushed and panting and generally a wreck. “What are you—Why are you doing this?” he asked, lifting himself up onto his elbows. His breath, his indignation, his fear returned with every word, with every second that ticked by. “Is this some sort of joke about what I said last week? Is that why everyone was so mum about it? Because you were planning on springing a giant mindfuck on me when I least expected it?” Steve was the first to move. He took Clint’s place on Tony’s right and tipped Tony’s chin up so that his neck was arched and bared. Tony didn’t seem to realize he was complying because Steve’s lips were against his ear and he was audibly whispering.
“Oh, Tony,” he murmured, his lips grazing the shell of Tony’s ear, his breath warming it. Tony sucked in a gasp. “Does this feel like a joke to you? Really?” he asked. His hands caressed the exposed flesh of his throat and chest. “If you don’t want this, tell us and we’ll go,” he said, “but we’re doing this for you. Because you want this. And we want this for you because you give so much and ask for nearly nothing back.” Tony shut his eyes and held back a moan.
“So many people would beg to differ,” he said through gritted teeth. Steve kissed him, sensuously and gently and where had he learned to kiss like that?
“Only those that don’t matter. Those who do see how you’ve given what little spare time you have to be a regular part of a team you aren’t required to be in, what money you’ve invested into an organization that not only does not earn, but leeches more money for damages and financial aid for victims, what intelligence you’ve used to build better weapons, safer bases of operations, stronger armor for others on top of yourself. You deserve to get what you want, Tony, and we’re willing to give it to you.”
“So this is—what? Payment? Because I give you money and better weapons and backup?” Tony tried to scoff. Really. But Steve’s hands were sinful.
“No, not payment, Tony. I suppose you could call it a reward. Not because of the money or the weapons or the back up, but because you’re amazing and you’re as much of a prize to us as this is to you,” Steve was speaking again and Tony only belatedly realized because Thor was also back on him and kissing him. Hands were on him, tugging on his slacks. Steve slipped a hand beneath him to lift him up so that the pair of hands could pull his pants and boxers down. He didn’t blush when he felt the cool evening air on him only because he had experience thank you very much, but more because Steve was licking and nipping at his nipples and Tony bucked into the air almost involuntarily with a cry.
Thor jerked him closer by his chin and exchanged a kiss that conveyed possibly more experience on his end than on Tony’s, but really. He was a god and over a thousand years old. Of course, he would have more experience.
A whisper of a caress ran over his engorged cock and extracted another cry from him and slowly, a pair of hands grasped at his erection. He moaned into Thor’s mouth and grasped at the long golden locks while lips brushed all over his body and hands caressed him everywhere. When he felt the warm air of breath over his cock, he jerked upright to see Clint on his knees before him with his hands and mouth pressed against his length. Tony moaned again when Clint ran his tongue along the shaft and cried out, tossing his head back, when he took the head into his mouth and sucked. It seemed as though all Clint’s talking was good for something after all because his mouth was divine and Tony could feel his release building as Clint worked him.
A pair of fingers suddenly caressed his ass, prompting him to look up again to see Bruce beside Clint. Bruce sent him a small smile that was incongruent with the questing of his fingers and he inadvertently bent and spread his legs to give Bruce better access. From beside him, Steve tilted his chin up and to the left so that he faced Thor as the god brushed his not-inconsiderately sized cock over Tony’s lips. He moaned again and parted his lips enough for the hard length to slide through.
The sensations were overwhelming: the scent and taste of Thor, the warmth of Clint’s mouth, the stretch Bruce’s fingers caused, Steve murmuring sweet nothings beside him and guiding his hand through Clint’s hair.
“One more, Bruce, and then Clint will go first.” Steve’s voice was gentle, but his words were methodical and almost practiced, and Tony couldn’t help but moan and buck into Clint’s mouth. He felt a third finger being added in him and he spread his legs wider and took Thor deeper into his mouth in an effort to muffle his moans. The god carded a hand through his hair and tugged on it to allow him to slide in and out of Tony’s mouth faster and deeper, testing Tony’s gag reflex. Tony felt Bruce slide his fingers in and out and twist and spread them and he cried out when they curved and caressed his prostrate. He tugged at Clint’s hair in what he hoped would convey his need for his cock in him and almost whined at the loss of the mouth until he remembered why it left in the first place. The blunt head of Clint’s cock nudged at his entrance and he shamelessly spread himself wider, earning him a groan from the archer.
“Fuck you, Stark, but you’re gorgeous…” he heard Clint hiss, then moan as he pressed forward, slowly until he could feel his balls against his ass. Thor dutifully removed himself from Tony’s mouth so that Tony could watch Clint slide in and out of him. He didn’t miss that the others stood around them, watching Clint fuck him, slowly at first, as if relishing the clench around his cock, then faster. Tony moaned when Clint withdrew almost completely and slid back in, repeating the motions several times and picking up speed with each thrust.
“God, Clint… Faster…” Tony moaned, willing his begging to morph into a command, but Clint thankfully did not seem to notice. He withdrew himself again and held there with only the tip of his cock in Tony until the genius almost snapped at him, then slammed himself in with a single thrust that had Tony screaming and arching his back. Clint repeated the motion a second time with the same result, then again and again until Tony was reduced into a quivering, incoherent mess. He felt Clint withdraw completely and nearly begged him not to, then felt another bigger cock slide into him with a neat thrust. He arched up yet again and cried for “More. Please” before he saw that it was Steve beneath him and in nearly came at the lustful way Steve looked at him.
“You’re so beautiful like this, Tony,” he murmured and how was he still speaking? Tony clenched tight around him, nearly smirking triumphantly when he received a groan in return, but then Steve has pulled out and slammed back into him that Tony had to grapple with the bed for a handhold. Bruce’s mouth was on his in the next moment, drinking in his moans as Steve thrust into him and Tony gratefully sunk his hands into the shaggy hair. The scientist only moaned when Tony grasped at his hair so tight when a set of fingers brushed at his flesh that was stretched around Steve’s cock. Tony pulled Bruce off him sharply to let out a loud cry when fingers penetrated him alongside Steve’s cock. He arched his back and pulled his knees to rest against his chest and spread himself more.
“That’s it, Tony, open yourself,” Bruce whispered in his ear and Tony couldn’t believe how turned on that made him because this was Bruce—quiet, reserved, innocent Bruce—saying those things. Bruce’s hand caressed his neck then trailed down his chest and bypassed his cock after giving it a soft stroke before settling on his ass and pushing two more fingers into it. A sob—an honest to God sob—escaped him because how was he not exploding from pleasure?
Then everything was withdrawn from him—cock, fingers, all of it—and another sob escaped him.
“S… Steve…” he said, prying his eyes open to see why they had stopped. Before he could, though, he felt himself being repositioned onto his hands and knees and Thor slid in beneath him.
“Allow me,” he murmured and guided himself into Tony’s stretched hole. He was bigger than Steve, not by much, but enough, and those fingers returned to where they were while Thor thrust in and out of him. He buried his face into the bigger man’s neck and shuddered and whimpered and willed himself not to sob again because he may be pleasured out of his mind, but he was no girl. He felt a pair of thighs brush against the backs of his and he suddenly cried out, tearing himself away from Thor to glance over his shoulder and see Clint smirking. Clint pulled Tony’s ass cheek aside and used his other hand to guide himself towards Tony’s filled hole.
His cock was slicked and Tony’s ass was stretched (so that was what the fingers were for), but when he pushed himself in and the tip of his cock slipped through, Tony verily screamed into Thor’s neck. All movement seemed to stop around him, and Tony pulled himself upright in almost-horror.
“Nonono. Don’t stop,” he begged, pushing himself against the two men in him. Both relaxed and Clint nodded before grasping at Tony’s hips and pushing himself in slowly. Thor was much bigger, but Clint wasn’t small and the both of them stretched Tony wider than he had ever been stretched. He whimpered as each inch of Clint’s entered him and when he was fully buried inside, the genius let out a long groan.
“I’m going to move now, Tony,” Clint warned. Tony nodded and pressed his lips to Thor’s with a small cry when Clint slowly withdrew himself. Even Thor was not immune to a groan as Clint slid against him. Only the tip of his cock remained in Tony and he pressed in, slowly still. Tony busied himself with Thor’s mouth because the god kissed liked a pro, and Clint pushed and pulled gently in and out of Tony until he was stretched and this side of numb and begging for more. Then he gave Tony what he wanted, moving faster and thrusting harder. And then Thor moved, matching Clint’s strokes then alternating with him, making Tony cry out in both pain and pleasure as both men fucked him, hard, but with visible restraint in an effort to save him from unnecessary pain.
And then Clint abruptly withdrew, and Tony very nearly screamed in protest until another cock, a bigger one, slid all the way in in his place, fluidly, neatly but not without pain that made Tony scream. Steve jerked his chin hard so that he could swallow the scream in a kiss over Tony’s shoulder, and it was filthy and wet, and Tony sobbed into his mouth because he started moving and thrusting along with Thor and Tony was so fucking full and could do nothing, wanted to do nothing, but take it… take them.
And when he thought he couldn’t take anymore, there were fingers in him, pressing and prodding his stretched hole, seeking entry where there was none and forcing their way in when it wouldn’t willingly yield. Tony cried into Steve’s mouth, mortified at the tear that leaked its way out of his eye but giving himself up to them all the same.
Fingers stroked his jaw, gently pulling him away from Steve’s mouth, and Tony felt another cock pressed against his lips. His eyes turned up to see Clint with a small smile and felt his fingers stroke his lips to encourage them open. Tony took him willingly into his mouth. Clint’s cock tasted faintly of soap, but Tony sucked him eagerly, enthusiastically, without reservation because Steve and Thor’s cocks and Bruce’s fingers were breaking down every one of his brain cells. Clint threaded his fingers through Tony’s hair and moved his hips to match Tony’s sucks, fucking his mouth around the whimpers the others caused.
He was being spread and stretched and broken and used, and he wanted it to never end. Just them, like this.
And then Steve suddenly jerked in him sharply at the same moment that Thor pressed against his prostrate and Bruce tugged at his cock, and Tony pulled away from Clint abruptly to scream as he came over Thor’s stomach and chest and Bruce’s fingers, clenching around and pushing himself against the three of them.
He was tight enough as is, with each of them staking their claim in him; the clench of his ass proved to be the undoing of Steve and Thor as they gave shouts of their own, muffled by his skin where their teeth suddenly clamped down, and released themselves into him, pounding him harder and faster as their orgasms mounted and tearing sobs of pleasure and pain from him as they did. As their orgasm crested and died down, so did the thrust of their hips and they settled for mouthing apologies onto the skin of his neck bruised with bites.
Clint’s hands tightened in Tony’s hair and tilted his head up sharply, reminding him that he was there, too. Tony gave one last push of effort to take him into his mouth and suck him harder, better, and then Clint’s grip in his hair tightened to the point of pain, and he thrust himself balls deep into Tony’s mouth and came and came and came.
Tony swallowed him down, every last drop, because why wouldn’t he? And collapsed against Thor and buried his face in the god’s neck as he allowed the intensity of their orgasms to dissipate. He felt the pair of cocks tug of out him and he whimpered in protest, but Steve’s chest was pressed against his back and his warm breath ghosted over his ear.
“You aren’t done yet, Tony,” he whispered. Tony moaned softly. “Bruce hasn’t come yet… He’s still waiting his turn… Their turn…” Tony looked up and over his shoulder at Steve, then at Bruce, before letting out a muffled cry against Steve’s lips. Once again, Tony questioned Steve’s experience because his kisses were amazing: methodical, precise, thorough—everything you’d expect of a soldier of his caliber—and yet sensuous and lustful. Steve gently pried himself away, and Bruce quickly took up his place. Tony grasped at Bruce’s hair, pulling him closer and holding him there as they kissed until they couldn’t anymore.
“Are… are you sure, Tony? About… this… me?” Bruce asked, breathless, hoping, and Tony kissed him again because.
“Fuck, yes, I’m sure. Please, Bruce. Now. Please…” he begged, lifting himself up onto his knees so that his other hand could grasp at Bruce’s ass and grind them against each other. The scientist let out a breathless gasp and his fingers grabbed Tony’s hips as he slid his cock in the crevice of Tony’s ass. When Bruce penetrated him, Tony groaned loudly because he was still sore and loose and dripping wet from Steve and Thor, but Bruce pressed in further as if he knew that Tony wanted more.
“God… You’re… Fuck, you’re so open…” It was his breathless voice that undid Tony; he ground himself harder against Bruce and begged him shamelessly “harder… faster… please!” Bruce pulled both of Tony’s hands away from him and pressed him back down on the bed as he complied with Tony’s requests because if Tony were to beg like that, who was he to refuse him? He pulled himself out and slammed himself back in, fucking the genius harder, wetter, filthier than he had fucked anyone before. Tony cried and whimpered and spread himself and begged for more, and Bruce gave him everything he wanted and more.
Then Clint leaned closer to Bruce’s ear and whispered something that Tony couldn’t hear and Bruce froze.
Tony jerked himself upright to see Steve and Thor on either side of the bed, with their weapons of choice in hand, and looked over his shoulder to see Clint hovering at Bruce’s ear, a set of small darts in his left hand, and suddenly, he knew what was going on, just as Clint flitted backwards and Bruce’s eyes flashed green.
Oh, he had seen it happen a number of times and knew exactly what was going to happen and how long it would take (no more than a minute, really), but this time, he felt it happen inside him. As Bruce’s arms and legs and chest grew, so did his cock, and Tony screamed as Bruce did because he was so fucking large and was spreading Tony so widely that Tony was sure something was tearing somewhere. But, oh! Bruce was still yelling in anger (and what had Clint said to Bruce?) and his hips were inadvertently thrusting as he grew, pounding into Tony as he was stretched and the void left by Steve and Thor filled… more than filled because the Hulk was almost thrice as big as Thor was. And Tony was coming and screaming into the bedspread.
“Stand down, Hulk,” Steve—no, not Steve—Captain America commanded because that voice was heard only ever in battle and to hear it in the bedroom made Tony practically sob into the bedspread, fisting his cock furiously and moving his hips sporadically as he came. The Hulk stopped yelling as he heeded his captain’s command (years of battling together had conditioned him to it); only then did he look down and look back up at Steve in confusion.
“Why is Hulk inside Metalman?” Tony nearly laughed hysterically at the confusion and language and only failed to because Hulk wouldn’t hold still and his cock jostled in Tony in random patterns and varying degrees of thrusts.
“Doesn’t he feel good, Hulk?” Clint purred from beside Steve. Hulk let out a snort of annoyance because Clint always annoyed him. “He wants that… he wants you… Move your hips, Hulk.” Hulk looked down at Tony and curiously traced a hand down his naked back. Tony shivered and whimpered against the large palm and moved his hips ever so slightly to encourage the giant to do the same. Hulk did, tentatively; he had never done this before. But Clint was right that Tony felt good around him and he moved his hips more.
“In and out, Hulk. Push and pull,” Steve instructed softly. Hulk did as told because this was his captain talking to him and he was rather focused on Tony too much to do anything besides. The sound Tony made was caught between a sob and a moan as Hulk thrust in him and it was an interesting sound so Hulk thrust again to hear it once more. Tony fisted the sheets, his face buried in his arms, as Hulk picked up a rhythm and built up his speed. His cock tore through Tony with each movement and Tony tried to busy himself with the maths of how Hulk could possibly fit in him (it was futile, really). He spread his legs wider all the same and let out a muffled cry as Hulk took hold of his hips for leverage.
He cried out sharply as Hulk gave a particularly hard thrust, and nearly screamed when Hulk repeated the motion even harder. When the giant pushed himself in as deep as he could and his balls slapped against Tony’s, Tony tossed his head and arched his back. Then Hulk repeated the motion, pulling himself further out and thrusting back in just as deep and wrenching a scream from Tony’s throat. One of his hands moved from Tony’s waist, leaving another visible mark on top of the ones left there by Steve and Thor and Clint, to his neck while the other moved to his chest, just enough to lift Tony off the bed and drag him hard onto his cock to meet the thrust of his hips.
Tony could only grasp onto the large wrists for leverage as Hulk used him as though a toy, pulling and pushing him off in time with his thrusts and spreading and ripping him apart. He could only scream when the tip of Hulk’s cock pushed in as far as it could go and breathe when it pulled out. He could only sob as Hulk’s girth spread his asshole the widest it had ever been spread and whimper when Hulk paused. His own cock was heavy and full once again (and Tony would have to reevaluate his sexual stamina after this because the last time he had had multiple orgasms in one session was back in college) and his balls tightened when the giant’s cock tore through him.
And then Hulk was moving faster and harder and more erratically and Tony was crying—crying! (God, he’s going to burn the tapes afterwards)—as he was pushed and pulled and fucked and used and all he could do was to hold on to those giant green wrists until Hulk very nearly screamed and he was releasing into Tony. And when Hulk pulled back out and Tony could feel all that come (and it was a really unholy amount) gushing and gushing and gushing out of him, he came again and again and again until he felt a warm press of lips against his and a pair of hands stroking his tear-stained cheeks.
Tony wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck and sobbed into his mouth as the captain jerked the rest of his orgasm out of him and Hulk shrank behind him and transformed back into Bruce (and, hm, an orgasm can do that?). And when Steve and Tony finally pulled apart, Tony could barely see through the haze of his tears, but he knew Thor and Clint and Bruce were no longer in the room.
Steve picked him up and pulled him into the shower. He held the genius up because he could barely stand and washed him everywhere, gently and almost reverently. Tony pulled him closer for another kiss and several more until Steve pried himself away and reached outside the shower to grab a cotton bathrobe that he wrapped around Tony.
“Stay in my room tonight. We’ll get your bed sorted out tomorrow,” he murmured, and Tony pulled him in for another kiss.
“Stay with me?” he then asked, his eyes shut and his forehead leaning against Steve’s shoulder. Beneath him, he felt Steve pause, so he looked up to see happiness radiating from Steve’s face. The super soldier kissed him again on the mouth, on the cheek, on his forehead and eyes then nodded and answered:
Natasha was the first downstairs and saw Tony at the kitchen table, drinking a cup of coffee and reading the morning newspaper. She frowned, stole a glance at the wall clock (5:00am, it said) and turned back to Tony.
“Why are you up?” Tony shot her an affronted look.
“Excuse me?” She crossed her arms over her chest (dressed in her SHIELD get-up and, really, at five in the morning?).
“You are usually the last to rise for breakfast or, more usually, you skip it altogether,” she explained. Tony managed a sneer around his unease.
“I was up at two am, finishing my latest projects which, by the way, involve Clint’s new bow and your improved throwing daggers, so you’re welcome,” he answered. He did not see the need to mention that, while he had worked on those projects, he was up two unnecessary hours more watching the reruns of last night and convincing himself that it was not a dream. Natasha peered at him closely, before stepping back, a sudden wide smile spreading over her lips. “What?” Tony asked defensively because it was never a good sign when Natasha smiled at you like that. “What?!” Natasha tossed him a laugh.
“You should really look into getting thoroughly fucked more often,” she said casually, pouring herself coffee.
“What? Fucked? I—What?!” Tony spluttered. Natasha aimed a bored look at him then rolled her eyes and turned back to her coffee. Tony settled for aiming glares at her back until she finally turned to address him, sitting herself across from him on the kitchen island and leaning forward on her elbows.
“I didn’t know it was going to happen last night, but did you really think I wouldn’t know? It was Steve’s idea, by the way. Not that the others didn’t want to, but Steve made it happen,” she said.
“What?” Natasha rolled her eyes again and stood up, taking her coffee with her out of the room. Tony was about to call her back, but the weight of a hand settled on his shoulder and Tony turned to see Steve smiling hesitantly down at him.
“You were gone when I woke up. I hope you weren’t uncomfortable?” Tony allowed Natasha’s words to sink in and he titled his head as he looked at Steve for a long moment. The bigger man’s smile started to drop, so Tony stood up and tangled his fingers in the hair at the back of Steve’s neck. He then pulled the soldier down so that their lips were a hairbreadth’s width apart, just there, just breathing against each other. Then Steve closed the distance between them, pressing his mouth, his body flush against Tony, crowding him so that Tony was pressed against the counter, wrapping his arms around Tony’s waist and kissing him and Tony was kissing back because Steve’s mouth was divine—Steve was divine.
“I think,” he started when their lips, and not much else, pulled apart. “That my room might take a bit more sorting out,” he said, and Steve grinned and kissed him again.
“Oi!” suddenly came a loud reprimand. “Keep that to the bedroom, would you? We eat here.” Steve and Tony pulled apart only just far enough to see Clint walk in, followed shortly by Thor and Bruce, and was this really the time that they all got up? God, they must be insane. Tony pulled a face at him.
“You, Barton, have just lost the right to complain about lewd sexual antics,” he said and pulled Steve back into the first of a series of many, many kisses.