sam_storyteller | Hard Rock Swing (Avengers) 3/3

Title: Hard Rock Swing
Rating: PG/R (R in this part only)
Summary: It turns out, in the 21st century, Steve's best friend is an eighteen-year-old genius named Tony Stark. This might be trouble.

Chapter One | Chapter Two

***

When he first moved into the Tower -- really, when he first came out of the ice -- Steve suffered some setbacks in trying to find places he felt at home. He ached, at first, for a real diner, a place he could just get a cup of joe and something fried. All the places he encountered were either cheap, painfully clean burger joints or cheesy "themed" diners done up to look like an era that he'd passed in the ice.

He finally found one, tucked down a side street near the tower, that at least approximated what he wanted. The booths were cracked vinyl, the counters were stained with decades of mug rings, and at a certain time of day it was always filled with old men who would share their newspapers with him as they drank their coffee. He'd spent a lot of time there, at first, a little haven away from the so-modern bustle of Manhattan.

He'd meant it as a gift to Tony, someplace special to him for their date (how strange to be able to think that, a date with a man, something dark and forbidden in his time). When they arrived, he realized he may have miscalculated, seeing the diner with Tony's eyes: grimy, dilapidated, and smelling faintly of hot grease.

Then Tony turned to him, beaming, and said "Time travel, huh?" and Steve smiled back.

"They do a nice chicken and waffles," he said, leading him to his usual booth. The waitress, passing with a coffee pot in one hand, set down two faded menus.

"Leave the pot," Tony said, winking at her, and she smiled and set the coffee down, turning over the two mugs already on the table.

"Friend 'a yours?" she asked Steve. "I like his style."

"Fond of it myself," Steve said.

Tony nevertheless seemed nervous, fidgeting with his menu and making, for him, frankly awkward small talk. He seemed relieved when the waitress returned to take their order, and once she was gone Steve reached over and touched his fingers where they were tapping against his mug.

"It's only me," he said.

"Only you," Tony repeated sardonically.

"You know I don't expect anything from you, don't you?" Steve asked. "You don't have to do anything, Tony. Besides, I figured you'd be used to this kind of thing. God knows I'm not."

"You're not?"

"Nah. Every other date I ever had..." Steve shook his head, time giving him enough distance to be amused instead of sad. "Bucky used to set me up. It never went well."

"Bucky, I remind you of him."

"Sometimes. Both troublemakers. Braver'n you'd let on. Fast talkers." Steve smiled. "But you're different to him." He glanced away. "Sweeter, I think, a little."

"I don't remind you of my father?"

"I didn't know your father all that well, really. And he always made me feel..." Steve shrugged. "I guess you'd say uncool. Like he knew all the mysteries of the world, and wasn't gonna share them with me."

"Huh."

Steve tipped his head at Tony, questioningly.

"That's how he made me feel too," Tony said quietly. "Oh God, we're talking about my dad on our first date, this is awful."

Steve topped off Tony's coffee. "Clears the air, I think. I did know him well enough to know he'd be proud of what you've accomplished."

Tony snorted. "Maybe."

"He'd get a kick out of Thor."

That drew a laugh. "Yeah, he probably would. How's he settling in? You talked to him, right?"

"Sure. He thinks JARVIS is the best thing since hammers were invented. When I left he was asking him every question under the sun."

"We're going to have to work him into the drills," Tony said. "And I'm going to put some more shielding on the armor."

It was easier then, falling into talk of strategy, how the team would shift with Thor back, how they would incorporate him into the dynamic. They talked through dinner and more coffee, through a shared slice of pecan pie. Every time Tony waved a hand -- and he talked with his hands a lot -- Steve felt a mild, sweet pang of attraction. Tony probably saw him looking, but he couldn't make himself care.

It was late by the time they left, huddling in coats against the chill in the air as they walked back to the Tower. Tony stuck close, shoulder bumping his, curly hair ruffled by the breeze.

In the elevator, on the way up to the floor they shared anyway, while Steve was contemplating the awkwardness of what was going to happen next, Tony turned to him.

"So you wanna come up and see my etchings?" he asked, grinning.

"That line was old when I was young."

"Sorry, should I have asked if you want to come inside and see me naked?"

Steve meant to say no. He didn't want to push Tony, and honestly he could probably use a little time to get used to the idea himself. He meant to be a mature, sober man and say no.

But surely a kiss goodnight first couldn't hurt, and he didn't want Tony to think he didn't want this. He wanted it a lot.

So he bent his head without bothering to explain and kissed Tony, tugging him up with a hand at the base of his skull. Tony went eagerly, pressing against him, nipping on his lip to stop him when he pulled back. Steve gave in, tasting too-sweet pie as Tony licked against his tongue.

The elevator door opened and Steve pulled back, aware he was breathing more heavily than he should be.

"Do you want to?" Tony asked, leaning into Steve's hand, still resting on the back of his head. "I -- I want to, but maybe I'm not known for always making smart decisions."

"Maybe smart decisions are overrated," Steve said faintly.

"Come on," Tony said with a grin, grabbing his hand and dragging him down the hall and through the conveniently open door to Tony's room.

"I'm not fragile, you know, I won't break," he continued, leaning up to kiss Steve again as the door closed. "It's not like I'm new at this."

"That makes one of us," Steve answered, letting himself be pushed towards the bed. Tony stopped abruptly, mid-shove, and looked at him.

"But you must have..." he said, frowning. "I know it was war and all..."

"I never...I never worked it out," Steve admitted. "I never figured out how people get to this point. Once I woke up in this time, it just seemed like there were more important things. And eventually you get so far from ordinary you just..." he shrugged.

"So I'm the jailbait and you're still the one getting debauched?" Tony asked, looking sly. "Fun."

"Don't do that," Steve said, flushing.

"Do what?"

"Make it...tawdry. I don't want that for us."

"What, you want to make love?"

"Yes," Steve said. "Don't you?"

Tony gave him a hard stare. Steve hadn't exactly gone in blind; he knew about Tony's past, and he knew enough to understand that Tony was used to people his own age, from his own time, and people Tony's age were...well, eager to impress. Unsure of themselves, willing to let Tony lead. Steve would do that to an extent, but he wouldn't let Tony lead him into something less than what they could have together.

"It's not a game, Tony," he continued. "I care about you. I take this seriously."

"You think I don't?"

"I think you're afraid to."

Tony stepped forward, chest to chest with him now, head tipped up. "I'm not afraid."

Steve smiled. "Well, good."

Tony spent a moment looking startled that Steve had outsmarted him. Steve found himself enjoying Tony's expression a little more than he probably should have.

He rested a hand on the small of Tony's back, keeping their bodies close together, hooking his thumb in Tony's belt. Tony's hands rose to spread across his stomach, almost defensive, until Steve bent and kissed him. Nothing defensive about the way Tony kissed.

It was easy to just stand there and kiss, soaking up the warmth of Tony's body, feeling the muscles shift under his hands as Tony stretched a little more, pushed a little further. He liked Tony's mouth, the curve of his lips.

Tony's hand insinuated itself under Steve's shirt, skirting his ribcage before tucking under his waistband in the back to --

"Hey!" Steve yelped, as Tony grabbed him. Tony just grinned and held on, palm warm against his ass, and Steve considered headbutting him for a second.

In that second, Tony managed to get his other hand on Steve's fly and was tugging at it, leaning back up to kiss him while his hand worked between them. Steve arched back a little, giving him space to work, and Tony laughed into his mouth as he brought his other hand around to help.

"You're a squirmer," he said.

"I am not," Steve argued. "I'm being helpful."

"Mmhm," Tony answered distractedly, nuzzling into his neck. Steve could feel the button on his jeans and his zip come undone, but then there was a pause; Tony's hands were gripping either side of his fly, just holding his pants up.

"Tony?" he asked carefully, leaning back. Tony was looking up at him with huge, wide eyes.

"I may have made an unwise implication," he said. Steve frowned. "I uh. I lied."

"About what?" Steve asked.

"I haven't actually done this with a dude before."

Steve couldn't help it. He tried to suppress the laughter but it came out as a snort, and then he gave up and wrapped Tony's shoulders in his arms, pulling Tony's head against his chest, laughing some more.

"It's not funny," Tony said, voice muffled, sounding indignant. Steve stroked his hair and kissed the crown of his head.

"Look at you, trying to impress me," he said, tipping Tony's chin up. "My God. Life with you's never going to be dull, at least, is it?"

"Probably not," Tony said ruefully. "Who wants dull, anyway?"

"Good point. Do you, um, want to keep going?" Steve asked. "I mean. I suppose we can fumble around uselessly together..."

"I bet I've seen more porn than you have," Tony announced, apparently deciding to brazen it out.

"That would be difficult, I shared barracks with forty other men," Steve said drily.

"Not like this, you haven't," Tony said, gripping him through his underwear, nimble hand sliding up and down around his prick. The rasp of the fabric made him whine softly, a noise that shocked him. He wasn't certain Tony was aware, either, that even as he shoved Steve's underwear down around his thighs he was rocking against one of them, erection nudging into Steve's leg.

Steve pulled his own shirt off and then twisted a little to try to get Tony's, but his brain was hazy -- so much touch, all at once, and Tony's hand still stroking him slowly made it hard to think. Tony leaned up close, nuzzling into his bare skin and making it nearly impossible for Steve to get at his clothing. He nipped Steve's shoulder, sharp little teeth leaving momentary red marks on his skin.

Steve slung an arm around his waist and turned them both, stripping off Tony's shirt before they tumbled onto the bed. Tony wriggled out of his grasp and lunged across him, straddling his stomach. He leaned in very close, hair hanging over his eyes, until their noses were touching, faces both lit dimly by the arc reactor.

"I've never given a blow job," he said. Steve fought down another laugh.

"I've never had one," he replied.

"Good, then you won't notice if I'm bad at it," Tony said.

"I don't know, depends how bad you are," Steve said, and watch Tony's eyes light up at the challenge.

Tony kissed his nose, which made him wrinkle it, and then under his chin, down the line of his throat to his pectorals. Steve fought the urge to prop himself up on his elbows and instead contented himself with ruffling Tony's hair, stroking his fingers through the curly strands as Tony worked his way down. He couldn't deny he was...nervous, concerned with making sure this went right, that Tony's skittishness and his own inexperience didn't get anyone hurt.

Then Tony licked the skin just below his navel and bent his head, sucking Steve into his mouth, and Steve's eyes rolled back. Warm and wet, clutching erratically around him --

He kept himself from arching up into the slick heat of Tony's mouth, but only just. Tony's teeth lightly grazed his skin, adding a brief counterpoint of pain that made the rest of it feel more intense, more real. Steve drew a deep lungful of air, made himself exhale and loosed his grip on Tony's hair.

Tony, without Steve's hand keeping him back, ducked his head and tried to go deeper. After a second he choked and sat up, coughing.

"Sorry," Steve mumbled, still breathing heavily.

"Don't be, this is awesome," Tony replied, cracking his jaw. "Good?" he asked, not quite looking at Steve.

Steve pushed up on an elbow, kissing him. "Yeah," he said. "That was...wow, Tony."

"As a compliment, I'll take it," Tony said, shifting back, but Steve caught his arm and reeled him in again, kissing him. Tony went lax against him, sinuous as a snake, and Steve leaned back, pulling Tony on top of him.

"Easy, Cap," Tony laughed. "Don't you want me to finish the job?"

"No," Steve said. "I like kissin' you."

Tony rolled his eyes a little, but he lay still enough as they kissed, fingers cradling Steve's head, reactor a cool pressure on his ribcage. Steve drew one leg up, shifting their weight, and their hips bumped together gently. Tony moaned into his mouth.

"I like this," Tony mumbled, sliding his thigh down Steve's and rutting against him. Steve bucked, planting a hand in the small of Tony's back to give him a little leverage. They ended up thrusting together, Tony's face buried in Steve's throat, Steve's head thrown back so he could gulp more air like he was dying.

Fine way to go, he thought to himself, and Tony let out a sharp, breathy gasp as he came. Steve realized his fingernails were digging into the top of Tony's ass, hard enough to leave marks. He relaxed his hands, startled.

Tony surged up, caught Steve's lip between his teeth, and bit down. The shock and pain seemed to zing from his mouth down his body, making his fingers twitch and his hips buck. He came with Tony's mouth on his, Tony's slim body warm against him. Came on Tony, shameless, groaning.

By the time he settled down a little, Tony had slid off and was lying, sticky, against his side. He had one hand firmly planted on Steve's chest. When Steve glanced at him, Tony leaned in and kissed the side of his pectoral, eyes never leaving his. Steve reached across himself and chucked Tony under the chin.

"Good?"

"Good," Tony agreed. He let his head fall by Steve's side. "Can I ask you something?"

"Nnnn," Steve answered. "Don't expect much intelligence, Tony."

He felt the tip of Tony's nose press into his skin. "Does it bug you because I'm younger than you, specifically, or just because you think I'm a kid in general?"

Steve pushed himself up. "What?"

"Or do you like it, and that bothers you?" Tony continued. "Because if that's a kink, I mean, I can put on the knee socks and the school uniform -- "

"No!" Steve said, startled. "Tony, why would you think that?"

Tony pushed himself up on an elbow. "I just want to know. I mean, is it because there's an age difference? Or because I look young?"

Steve tugged on Tony's arm gently, pulling him up against his side again.

"What bothered me wasn't that you look young," he said gently, "but that you are young. I don't want to take advantage of you, Tony. Or hurt you. Even if you were my age -- if you were older than me -- I'm still...enhanced. I'd still worry about hurting you physically."

"I can go put the armor on," Tony offered, smiling, and Steve laughed.

"No, not this time anyhow," he said.

"The armor gets you hot, huh?"

"It's beautiful, that's all," Steve said. He stroked Tony's hair. "Right now, I'd like to just be still for a little while and enjoy this. I don't usually get much of that, you know."

"Can we clean up, first?" Tony asked, and Steve released him. Tony rolled off the bed. "How much do you like this shirt?"

Steve glanced over and waved his hand. "Not that much."

"Good, 'cause mine's vintage," Tony replied, grinning as he cleaned them off enough to avoid discomfort. He tumbled back onto the bed and against Steve, but not before Steve caught a wince, and felt his fingers brush against Tony's shoulders, where the bandages over his wounds were. He pulled Tony over gently so that he was lying half-on-Steve, back off the blankets.

"Like this," he said, tucking Tony's head under his chin and getting one hand into Tony's hair.

"You should be aware I'm a fidgeter," Tony said, but he yawned, too.

"I may have noticed," Steve answered, kissing Tony's forehead. "It's okay. I only want a minute."

"Mmhm," Tony agreed. Steve lay there, feeling the gentle pressure of Tony's arc reactor against his side, Tony's hair sifting under his fingers.

"You want to go see a movie tomorrow?" he asked quietly.

Tony didn't reply, but he exhaled in a gentle snore against him. Steve smiled and relaxed, closing his eyes.