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Steve comes back from his morning run in a bad mood. That alone deters the rest of the tower from talking with him, let alone messing with him. But to Tony, Steve’s sour mood is a goddamn calling he can’t resist. Like a moth to a flame, a cartoon character floating after the scent of pie. Tony just can’t fucking resist himself, can’t resist the inevitable fight he’s going to cause doing this.
Steve is sitting at the kitchen table, staring down at his blank sketchpad in annoyance.
“Heya Cap!” Tony says brightly, only because he knows Steve is in no mood for a cheery conversation. Steve brings his attention to Tony, who leans himself against the counter a few feet away.
“You look like a kicked puppy. What's got your panties in a twist?”
Steve’s face wrinkles in displeasure, and he looks back down at the pad. “It’s nothing.”
“Really? Nothing? Hm, you know, maybe you’re just sexually pent up. I mean, 80 years with no sex oughta have some demeaning effects on you mentally and physically. I can’t imagine.”
Steve’s face twists with irritation. He lets out a sigh. “Come on, Tony, I’m not in the mood for this.”
“I mean, I’m sure cucking your friend Barnes all those years must’ve really got you pent up.” he knows it’s fucked up and mean to bring up Steve’s actively missing tortured friend; that’s exactly why he said it.
Suddenly Steve is standing, and Tony’s stomach flips with excitement and anxiety at whatever Steve is going to do. He rounds the table slowly, face serious, and stalks up to Tony, who doesn’t shut his mouth.
“Say, he ever get with anyone in the howling commandoes? I mean, he was in the army; it wouldn’t be a surprise.”
Tony subconsciously takes a step back despite himself, and of course his back hits the counter. Steve doesn’t stop though; he gets right up in Tony’s personal space and plants his hands on the counter on either side of Tony.
Tony can tell how furious he is, and while he and Cap have never gotten physical in their many arguments, Tony is starting to wonder if this might be the time it does, and that he’s finally pushed Steve too far.
Of course that thought doesn't stop him.
Tony swallows down the nervous lump in his throat, and purposefully tries to keep his eyes away from Rogers’ lips that are way too close to his own.
“What's with the intimidation, big guy? I struck a little too close to home, or are you just insulted I implied your friend batted for the other team?”
“I want you to apologize,” Steve says, quiet yet stern, leaning even closer. And Tony can feel the brush of Steve’s breath against his mouth with how close they are now. Can smell the mintiness of the captain's toothpaste.
And even in this situation, where he knows he has no real power against this serumed man, he still doesn’t back down. He’s not a 5-year-old who got in trouble, he doesn’t feel bad for what he said; he’s not apologizing.
“Yeah? Why don’t you make me then?”
There’s a pause, and for one nauseating moment Tony’s not sure how Steve is going to react. And then, Steve pushes the small distance forward and slots their lips together.
It’s softer than Tony was ever expecting, considering they’re quite literally mid-fight, but he melts into it nonetheless. Steve’s lips are soft and gentle, and Tony can’t get enough. Tony uses the hand not braced against the counter behind him to slide through Steve’s hair and push him closer.
Steve’s hands leave the counter and tightly grip Tony’s waist, he takes a step forward and pushes his body completely against the billionaire.
Tony is pinned and hard and has lost his breath at the intensity of everything that’s happening right now.
He sticks his tongue into Steve’s mouth to get back some semblance of control here. The hand at the back of Steve’s head grips tightly at his hair, at the same time Tony bites at Steve’s bottom lip. Because it’s always his goal to piss Steve off, even when they’re having the best makeout of his life.
Steve pulls back, and the anger on his face is evident. Tony can’t help his smile.
The grip on his waist is shifting- Tony is shifting- Steve is turning him around. He’s facing the counter now, and then Steve’s palm is in the middle of his back pushing him down down down until his face is pressed against the cool marble. Tony tries to push himself up, but he’s no match for Steve’s strength. It’s honestly embarrassing, the amount of power Steve has over Tony.
Then Steve is pushing Tony’s pants down over his hips.
“Steve-“ Tony chokes out, half panicked, half turned on. While this whole situation is a wet dream, 7 other people live in the tower, and any one of them could walk in right now trying to get food and see Tony bent against the counter by Steve with his pants down and he doesn’t think he can live through that kind of embarrassment.
Luckily, Steve seems to read Tony’s mind. “FRIDAY, can you lock the kitchen? Don’t let anyone in.” The anger in his voice is still evident, but it’s more controlled. The kind of anger you have when you’ve already won the fight. Tony doesn’t like that, he opens his mouth to start mouthing off again, only to have nothing come out as Steve forcefully pulls Tony’s pants and boxers down to his knees.
Tony’s embarrassment is immeasurable; He's never felt so goddamn weak and vulnerable. He hates it.
He has to hold in a whine when Steve pulls his cheeks apart to expose his hole.
He knows this is Steve’s way to punish Tony for being a brat, and Tony does not want Steve to think he’s won. But his brain is not working with his mouth, and any bratty thing he could say leaves his brain as soon as Steve runs his tongue across Tony’s puckered hole.
Tony struggles for purchase on the smooth countertop, but he feels like if he doesn’t grab hold of something he might float away or die or something. A strangled groan tears past his lips despite his attempts to not give Steve shit. Steve just pins Tony’s hips harder against the edge of the counter; the pain keeps Tony aware and from pretending this is all just a dirty wet dream.
Tony’s face burns as he both feels and hears Steve suck a wet kiss onto his rim.
Tony is helpless against Steve’s ministrations, licking and sucking at his hole. No matter how much he squirms or fights back, Steve’s solid grip keeps him in place.
One of his hands eventually finds purchase on the edge of the counter, fingers gripping tight with his wrist at an awkward angle down by his side. Almost immediately Steve pries said hand away and pins it behind his back.
“S-ste-eve,” Tony whimpers, shocked and embarrassed when Steve’s tongue pushes past Tony’s rim and inside. Tony’s hole clamps down on the intrusion, but Steve persists.
He starts fucking his tongue in and out of Tony’s body, and the man thinks he’s never been so turned on in his life. Steve’s tongue is warm and wet inside him, and what they’re doing is so dirty Tony’s cock twitches violently where it’s trapped between his body and the counter. Steve eats him out like a starved man, pulling his cheeks farther to try and get his tongue deeper. Tony moans aloud while trying to press his face into the marble to muffle the sound. He thinks he can feel Steve’s smile against him.
It’s downright degrading when Steve pulls back and spits directly onto Tony’s hole, and Tony can’t help the moaning gasp he produces.
There’s the wet sound of Steve’s mouth behind him, but he’s not tonguing Tony’s hole anymore. The man tries to turn to see what Steve’s doing, but his pinned body prevents him. He’s able to put it together quickly when pressure returns on his taint as Steve collects the spit that was running down his crack, and drags it back up to aid him as he presses a finger into the hole.
It’s a foreign feeling to Tony; he tenses up in discomfort. Steve pauses and uses his free hand to place a comforting hand on Tony’s lower back. Slowly, Tony relaxes and lets go of his tight grip on Steve’s finger, so the other man begins to pump it in and out.
Steve pulls out the one finger, and then slides in another alongside it. The stretch is rough and painful, with only spit to ease it. Tony takes a deep hissing breath. Steve kisses his tailbone apologetically.
Even when Steve is angry, he's considerate; it honestly pisses Tony off.
Steve pulls out and pushes back in before curling his fingers and pressing into a spot that makes Tony’s nervous system melt into pure pleasure. He chokes out a groan as he clenches on the fingers inside of him.
“Fuck, Rogers- where did you learn how to do this?” He breathes out heavily, because Jesus Christ, Steve is making him see stars when he was under the impression the blonde was a virgin.
Steve lets out a small huff of amusement. Tony’s about to make another crude joke about Steve’s deceased friend, but the man curls his fingers again to hit Tony’s prostate, and he forgets everything.
Tony writhes on the counter, letting out breathy moans and grunts as Steve fingers him.
Steve scissors his fingers between curling them to stretch Tony open more.
A third finger slides in, and every pump has small whimpers falling from Tony’s mouth. The stretch has gone from painful to pleasurable. Steve spits on his hole again and jams his fingers back in, honestly probably just to be mean, and it has Tony crying out a half-choked moan.
Steve pulling his fingers out from inside of him gives Tony a chance to breathe and think because wow, this whole situation escalated fast.
He can hear Steve undoing his own belt, the sound of a zipper, the sound of him spitting into his own hand, that hand lubing himself up, then returning to Tony’s hip. And then… nothing. Like Steve’s waiting for something.
“C’mon, Rogers,” Tony grits out impatiently, trying to press back against Steve's hold and having no effect whatsoever.
“I want you to apologize first,” Steve says, calm and stern, like he’s telling a dog to sit; like his dick isn’t inches away from Tony’s hole.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
Steve positions his dick at Tony’s entrance, but doesn’t move to push himself in.
“Apologize.”
Tony tries, I mean really tries to resist.
“I’m not fucking apologizing.”
Steve doesn’t say a word, and doesn’t move from their current position; the head of his cock brushing up against Tony’s hole.
Tony tries to fight, to push back, to do anything; but the hand on his hip and the other pinning his arm behind his back keep him still.
Tony’s so frustrated and horny he might die, so his resolve breaks and he caves.
“Fine, I’m sorry, alright?” Never thought he’d be manipulated using sex.
Steve lets out a considering hum at Tony’s words. “You can do better than that,” he says softly, mockingly.
Tony is fucking appalled.
“I did what you asked! What do you want me to do? Recite a speech with tears in my eyes begging for your forgiveness? Wh-”
He’s cut off by Steve pushing in, his head sliding past the tight rim.
All Tony’s body can register as Steve slides in is ‘big’, the stretch brings tears to his eyes.
Steve sinks in slowly, inch by inch, and Tony didn't see his cock beforehand, but he’s wondering by the feeling if this guy's a fucking horse or something because it just keeps going and he’s so deep-
Steve’s pelvis presses against the back of Tony’s thighs and he pauses. Tony is gasping, breathing in and out; the feeling is overwhelming, being speared open on Steve’s cock.
He digs his nails into his own palm with nothing to grab onto. He’s biting his lip so hard he honestly might start bleeding in an attempt to subdue any noises.
He tries to relax around the girth, but his body doesn't seem to want to untighten.
Steve runs a comforting hand up and down the side of Tony’s hip, trying to get him to relax.
Tony is just starting to be able to breathe again when Steve moves, pulling out slowly before methodically pushing back in.
The movement punches a grunt out of Tony. He presses his forehead against the granite and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to focus on his breathing.
Steve pulls out slowly again, but then snaps his hips back forward. Tony lets out a pathetic cry at that.
Steve’s pace is slow, but each thrust of his hips becomes less gentle. Moans and whines are spilling out of Tony’s mouth uncontrollably as Steve repeatedly rams into his whole.
Steve begins to speed his pace up, impatience catching up with him. He readjusts his grip on Tony to pound into him faster. The angle changes and Steve hits Tony’s prostate.
“Ha, fuck- ther-re- ngh,”
Steve keeps at it, breathing heavily and grunting at the effort of his thrusting.
Tony can feel himself getting close, and he tries to use his free hand to get under his body to jerk his neglected cock. Steve quickly pins his second hand down against the counter to prevent him.
“Please,” he gasps. And god dammit, how has he let Rogers debase him to begging? He knows; he needs to cum so bad. And Steve isn’t letting him.
“Apologize.” Is all the man says.
“I’m sorry- I’m sorry, please-” He babbles mindlessly. It’s pathetic of Tony, but he needs it so bad.
“Sorry for what?” Steve grunts out, continuing his brutal pace.
Tony lets out a whine, arm twisting in Steve’s grasp.
“Sorry for being a brat?” Steve's tone is angry, and he emphasizes his point with a harsh thrust.
Tony nods against the counter, and he’d be burning with shame if he weren’t so goddamn close.
“Say it,” Steve demands, and Tony’s brain has been turned to mush so he listens immediately.
“I’m so- I'm sorry for be- ing a brat,” he stutters out quietly, on the verge of tears from his sexual frustration.
Steve’s pace stutters, and he finally has mercy on Tony and slides a hand beneath him to grip his cock and jerk him quickly.
Tony flies over the edge with just a few jerks of Steve’s hand, painting Steve’s hand, the counter, and his stomach all while crying out.
He thinks he might even black out for a second, that’s how good his orgasm is.
Behind him, Steve grunts at the feeling of Tony tightening up, and pumps his hips a few more times before grinding in and cumming with a low groan. He grinds his hips through both their orgasms, wringing him and Tony out dry.
Tony presses his forehead against the counter, trying to catch his breath.
Steve slides his softening cock out of Tony’s hole.
The brunette shivers at the feeling of the cum leaking out of him.
Steve stands behind him, breathing deeply and not saying anything.
Tony slightly regains his bearings from that mind-blowing railing and orgasm. He keeps his forehead pressed to the counter as he opens his mouth.
“I like you when you’re angry.”
Steve lets out a loud, almost exasperated laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Seriously,” Tony pushes himself up to his feet, and his legs feel wobbly as he tries to regain balance. “Feel like you got possessed by some kind of sex demon.”
He’s got cum all over his front and dripping down his legs, and it feels disgusting to pull his pants up and shirt down over the mess.
He turns and faces Steve for the first time since the man pinned him to the counter.
His cheeks are flushed pink, and he's built up a sweat. His lips are red and puffy, and they’re pulled into a shy smile. One would not think this innocent-looking man would be the one who just fucked Tony within an inch of his life, but Steve seems to be full of surprises.
Steve takes a step forward and kisses Tony softly. “You’re an asshole. Go take a shower, Tony.”
And Tony can’t say no, he really needs one.
“I should make you mad more often,” Tony says as he walks on unsteady legs out of the room.
Steve’s face wrinkles up in distaste. “I’d rather you didn’t.”
Tony turns in the doorway.
“You know my shower is awfully big, and for the environment we should probably save water and share-“
“For the environment?” Steve asks, amused.
“Of course.” Tony stands in the doorway staring at Steve, who’s giving him a disbelieving smile.
“To save water.” He repeats sarcastically and starts walking towards the doorway Tony is standing in.