Archive of Our Own

He’d fantasized about it before.

Captain America was tall, blond, and gloriously beefed up, and half the country had probably thought about it at least once.

The half with taste, Tony figured

When he imagined Steve coming onto him, it was always somewhere salacious but probable (in his fantasies), like the SHIELD elevators after an exhausting mission, or the Quinjet washroom. Yes, Tony’s sexual fantasies involving Cap were voyeuristic, but he was not to be blamed—who wouldn’t want to show off that they got to bang Captain America?

He imagined that the sex they had would be explosive. That Tony—who would still be in his younger years—would show Steve an unforgettable time, even if Tony himself didn’t inspire much to remember. That was how his fantasies always ended: with Steve not in love, but satisfied.

Tony would not disappoint him.

Tony’s fantasies had not accounted for being bedridden, and having one forlorn-looking Steve Rogers propositioning him from his hospital bedside. He wanted to close his eyes and fall back into another six-month coma, but the look on Steve’s face when he had woken—desperate, anxious, and something unreadable in the crumpled lines around his mouth—made him reconsider, unfortunately.

Steve didn’t look embarrassed, so this was a predetermined conversation, not something borne out of the delirious fever Tony was certain he must have been suffering from. He had that pout to his mouth, a stubborn, downturned shape that demanded mountains to move while he held his ground.

It had been years since Tony had fallen in love with that pout. He’d gotten married, had a child, and gotten divorced—Tony, choosing to sacrifice himself once again. Pepper, realizing she wanted something stable. Tony had tried. His retirement years in the cabin, raising Morgan, had been good for him. But he was Tony Stark, and the chip on his shoulder bore the weight of Thor’s hammer.

Finally, came the realization that there was only one person who could truly comprehend this crippling responsibility, this inability to live a life shrouded in picket-fenced ignorance. The scars on his body itched. His injuries were healing, but slowly. He would be lucky to regain movement in his right arm, and the burn scars that covered his torso and face would not fade, the atrophied muscles would always ache. He was too weak to attempt another round of Extremis.

He’d thought the world had finally forced him to slow down.

“It’s not exactly a proven science,” Steve muttered. “I—it was illegal. They couldn’t let the serum fall into the wrong hands.”

Tony watched Steve wring his hands together in fascination. “What about kissing? There must have been a little tongue involved,” Tony asked.

Steve frowned. “Well, there wasn’t any time to french anyone during the war. And after I got here, well.” He rubbed his mouth and looked to the side. Tony felt like he was watching it happen in slow motion.

“So you’ve never so much as kissed anyone. And now you want to what? Heal me with your magic semen?” Tony asked, justifiably hysterical.

“It’s not magic,” Steve refuted. He was wearing a leather jacket and biker boots. There was even a little bit of gel in his hair, like Steve thought he would have a better chance of convincing Tony if he dressed up pretty.

Tony had never been good at denying his vices.

“Steve,” he told him, and they had been doing good. Working together again had been exhilarating. Having the support of the entire team had made Tony believe in himself like little else could achieve. And the greatest proponent of that had been having Steve at his side again—Steve, who had appeared at his cabin like a honeypot from every James Bond movie.

“You’re offering to give me a serum-enhanced suppository, with your dick. It’s going to be a little magical.” Tony grinned at Steve’s flustered blush. Years later, and he could still get Cap’s panties in a twist.

Tony forced his fists to unclench, because when had that happened? Albeit, having the guy you’d been in love with for a decade offer to heal you with his state-protected semen was due a little anxiety. He wasn’t sure what his mouth was doing, but it was too late to correct it as he turned Steve down gently. “People get injured at war all the time. You don’t need to feel obliged to offer this just because we know each other, Steve. Sure, I might not be as spry as I used to be, and I might have docked another decade off my lifespan, but I’ll live.”

Tony felt like it was a good speech. But Steve must have thought differently, because he looked at Tony like he was about to cry. “Yeah, you’ll live, but you almost didn’t. Your heart stopped. I—” Steve cut himself off.

Tony knew this part of the story. After he had managed to snap the gauntlet, his heart had stopped. Out of sheer desperation, Steve had used Thor’s hammer on his reactor—not out of scientific hope, but the stubborn aspiration of a man who refused to give up. And what did it say about Steve Rogers that he could bend the universe to his will, and he used it to bring someone like Tony back to life?

“You’re a hero,” Steve said, like he could read Tony’s mind, and his blue eyes were piercingly bright.

Tony swallowed the burn in his throat.

“And we can’t just inject it into me, or something?” Tony asked, then immediately added, “Hypothetically.”

Steve looked apologetic now. “I had to get special clearance. It has to be direct administration or they won’t allow it. My semen is a lot more dangerous in the wrong hands compared to a bit of saliva.”

Hearing Steve say my semen was not something Tony thought he would ever be around to witness.

“And we need to do this, today?” Tony asked, more than a little incredulous.

Steve’s contrite expression deepened. “I had a chat with the Secretary of defense this morning.”

Tony froze, and then barked out a laugh.

He would have loved to listen in on that conversation. “Steve,” he tried again. It was hard to be delicate when he had not been prepared. Steve Rogers was a smart man. He didn't really give Tony the chance to think it through.

He could reject Steve.

He was rejecting Steve.

“This is insane. You shouldn’t have to do this for anyone, no matter the reason. I’m also—”

He tried to shrug one scarred shoulder, but it looked more like an awkward twitch. “I don’t look the same as I used to. It won’t be a pleasant experience.”

Steve’s eyes widened; he looked caught off-guard for a moment. “Tony, you’re beautiful.”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“Thank you, Cap. But I’m not a teenage girl going through puberty. These are some ugly scars. You can’t really want to sleep with me.”

Steve’s jaw twitched. Something dark flashed across his face, and then he stood up as if challenged.

“Let me do this, Tony,” he insisted.

The heart monitor beeped.

Tony watched as Steve began to unbutton his shirt. He had brought a small vinyl bag with supplies, always a prepared Boy Scout.

Once his majestic shoulders had been bared, Steve placed one knee on the bed and hovered over Tony. Then, he paused awkwardly. Tony raised a brow at him.

“Can I touch you?” Steve asked, and the burn in Tony’s throat slid to his heart. He had been refusing, but his traitorous head nodded.

Steve swept in and pressed his dry lips to Tony’s. The kiss was clumsy at first. Steve was eager against his mouth, so Tony pressed his fingers along Steve’s jaw and softened the kiss. Steve’s mouth slackened easily, and Tony pressed his tongue between Steve’s lips and wondered how it was possible he was the first to do this.

There was still something desperate about Steve. Something Tony’s tongue could not soothe. He pressed roughly against Tony, his teeth nipping almost unpleasantly against Tony’s lip. And there was wetness there, against his cheek.

Tony sighed. His heart had been both broken and fixed by this man who cried as he kissed him. He wrapped a hand around Steve’s neck and held him. Steve might not have been in love with Tony, but he did love him. It was unavoidable. The things they had gone through together—the tail end of giving your life to protect someone—were always going to be a love that was self-preservation. To love this person was to live with their choices.

Steve made love to Tony like he was worshipping him. Like Tony’s six months in a coma had ascended him to godhood. He kissed Tony’s scarred jaw reverently, then peeled off his shirt to kiss his chest. He rubbed his face against the gnarled skin. Tony lay back and let Steve explore. Steve pulled off his sweatpants. Tony was not an inattentive lover, but something about this felt overwhelming.

His dick was soft in Steve’s hands, and Steve flinched. Tony flung a hand over his eyes. “Did you not take a look at my medical file, Cap? I won’t be sowing my oats anytime soon.”

“Why would I do that? It’s private,” Steve said, like anyone else cared about Tony’s privacy. And then he used that same mouth to kiss Tony’s dick.

A lube-slicked finger pressed into him. The sudden sensation startled him a little; Tony was too used to touches he could barely feel now. His leg twitched under Steve’s hand.

Steve smoothed a hand up his calf as he worked Tony open. Tony looked down his torso at Steve and felt like he was falling in love all over again. Steve’s eyes were focused as he stretched Tony open. His fingers pushed in, and Tony’s toes curled as they brushed over the knot of his prostate.

Steve’s dick was warm as it pressed into Tony. He was hard. Tony hadn’t seen him jerk off, so he must have gotten hard just by working Tony open. Steve leaned up as he pushed in, collapsing onto Tony’s chest.

“I thought you said you never even kissed anyone,” Tony gasped.

“You never pay attention,” Steve moaned fondly into the crook of Tony’s neck. “I said I never used my tongue. Doesn’t mean I never got to show people a good time in other ways.”

Tony wrapped his hands around Steve’s neck as Steve slowly thrust inside him. It felt good, having Steve lying on top of him with their bodies pressed together. He muffled his moans into Steve’s shoulder. He didn’t want it to be obvious how much he liked this. How much he loved Steve.

It didn’t take long for Steve to come. Tony couldn’t do the same, but the sensations inside him as he felt Steve fill him up made him tremble. His eyes were wet, and he wondered how Steve didn’t know.

Steve must have known.

Steve lay still above him once he was done. “Was that good for you?” he asked softly.

“Yeah,” Tony told him.

Steve paused. He was still inside Tony.

“We probably need to go again. Make sure you have enough.” His ears were bright red.

Tony wanted to kiss them.

“Hm.” He agreed, and pretended his shoulder was not wet with Steve’s tears.