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The bar is noisy, crowded, with more people and fewer exits than Steve would usually like, but something had driven him to be submerged in this strange future he found himself in. He’d thought, stupidly, that bars wouldn’t have changed much. They had though. So much was different from how they’d been back before the war. The drinks, for one thing. While the quality of some had certainly improved, the sheer quantity of fancy, suggestive names of some of the drinks had Steve’s head reeling. Who even needed fruit or tiny paper umbrellas in their alcohol?
What hasn't changed though, was the feeling of being watched. Ever since he’d become Captain America, even with his identity a secret, he’d drawn attention from people when he’d been in public. It had been easy to ignore, back in the day, because he had Gail, and he was committed to her.
Now though, now he wasn't sure if people were looking at him because they wanted something from him, or just because he was so obviously out of place. He certainly felt out of place. Ever since he’d woken up in that medical lab, being poked and prodded at and getting told that decades had passed. Since the looks of ugly jealousy Banner had given him. Since Fury had told him that he’d missed the years of a life he’d planned with Gail.
That Buck had gotten them instead.
Not that he could hate them for it. They’d thought he was dead. He’d thought he was dead.
He wished they’d left him dead. What was the point of being alive when there was nothing worth living for?
In the same vein, if he had nothing to live for, he had nothing to lose.
That was the excuse he gave himself when he made eye contact with the man he’d felt watching him for the past few minutes. There was no denying that the man was attractive, sitting at the adjacent side of the bar to Steve. Dark hair and bright blue eyes, mischievous smile framed by carefully trimmed facial hair. He eyed Steve with such blatant interest that Steve knew all he had to do was reflect some of that back at him, and then they could just go from there.
Nothing to lose, and maybe he’d gain a few moments of not feeling so alone. Those were the excuses he gave himself when he lifted his drink slightly and inclined his head in a muted form of greeting. The man’s smile shifted to a grin, pleased and gloating, like he’d just won the grand prize.
He disappears from sight, slipping back into the crowd pressed against the edge of the bar. Not that Steve has long to worry about losing yet another chance before a body squeezes into the space beside him.
“Well, aren’t you just a cut above the rest here, darling,” a voice purrs beside him, breath ghosting across his ear, and Steve has to fight down the urge to jerk back and get on the defensive.
He isn’t in the war anymore; he has to keep reminding himself of that. Has to keep stopping himself from reacting with violence at every loud noise or close contact with other people.
He takes another sip of his drink, holding the alcohol on his tongue to feel it burn, because it is the only effect that it will have on him. Slowly, he turns his gaze to the man, who’s even more attractive up close, and narrows his eyes slightly, giving him a mild glare to show how unimpressive the line was.
The man just smiles at him, salacious, suave, inviting, all the things that Steve knows he can never be; charisma just oozes of the man, the confidence of someone who knows they are good looking and how to use it.
“I’d ask if you came here often, but somehow I don’t think you’re the type to partake in small talk. Muscles like that, you must be a man of action, darling.” Easy charm laces his voice, accompanied with a rather exaggerated waggle of his eyebrows. “So what do you say, we get out of here and get some action?”
Setting his drink down a little too hard, making the liquor inside slosh up the sides of the glass, Steve turns on his stool to face the man, glaring at him a little more harshly, “With all due respect, mister, I don’t know you from Adam. Why do you think I’d want to go anywhere with you?”
The man’s eyes go wide. “You don’t know me?”
The way he says it makes it sound like he’s used to being recognised; given the way the future is, Steve assumes he is some kind of celebrity. He hasn’t exactly been attending all his re-assimilation sessions, and has been actively avoiding the Internet, which everyone seems to put so much stock into these days. When he shakes his head, he half expects the man to deflate, to be offended even.
What he doesn’t expect is the way the man’s pupils blow out slightly, or the way he licks his lip as he grins. “Well, doesn’t that just make you even more delicious.”
He steps closer to Steve, leans in until the man’s hot breath is against the side of his face, ghosting across his ear and causing goosebumps to crawl onto his skin. “The things I could do to you, darling, would make you forget your own name, too. If you like.”
There’s a flare, hot and bright, in the pit of his stomach. An ache that makes him want human contact again. And what better a person to seek it with than someone who has more to lose than he does?
He turns, downs the last of his drink, and gives the man a look that he hopes is challenging. It’s all he needs to do before the man is gripping his sleeve and dragging him towards the door, drink still in hand. He obviously has no qualms at all about stealing the glassware.
Moments later they’re tucked into the alleyway that runs alongside the bar; Steve wonders if he should be offended that the man thinks this is all he’s good for, but to be honest, he prefers this to the awkward time they’d have to spend travelling anywhere else.
The man crowds him up against the wall, leaning in close, still grinning at him, open and inviting. “Now, darling, what sort of things do you like? Do you have preferences? Do you like giving orders?”
His lips ghost against the corner of Steve’s mouth, breath tasting like whiskey, as his free hand slides down Steve’s chest, over his stomach and palms his cock through the front of his jeans. “Or, perhaps, you’d rather be bossed around?”
Steve can’t help the way his breath shudders in his chest at the thought. The opportunity to just let go and let someone else take charge. He doesn’t know if he can though. Knows he’ll fight it the entire time. He knows that the way his cock hardens is a dead giveaway for how much he likes the idea. And he knows that the man knows, by the victorious glint in his eyes as he moves back slightly.
He’s a picture of indifference as he takes another sip of his drink. “You like the idea of being bossed around? Of me telling you to get on your knees and choke on my dick?”
“Make me,” Steve spits back, glaring, but he knows that his voice is too hoarse, too choked with arousal and want that he can’t hide.
Grinning, the man squeezes his cock through his jeans again, then shifts his hand up to Steve’s shoulder, pressing down. “Oh, I plan to, darling. I plan to.”
The brickwork of the alley is damp beneath his knees, left wet by the earlier scattered showers, soaking into his pants. He’s beyond caring though, feeling dizzy in anticipation, finally feeling the effects he’d been chasing with alcohol. He knows he’s being watched, can feel the man’s gaze on him the entire time, almost as physical as the hand that runs through his hair.
“Are you going to get on with it, darling? Or am I going to have to call for another drink to be delivered?” He asks, fingers still trailing through Steve’s hair, tugging ever so slightly. “Though maybe you like an audience?”
Growling, Steve jerks his gaze up to glare at the man, only getting a knowing smile in response. It’s enough of a threat though, enough of a challenge, that he reaches out, roughly undoing the belt and fly of the man’s pants, dragging them down his thighs. Dark hair litters his skin, sparser in patches at the top of his thighs, before getting thicker around his cock and balls. Steve supposes that it shouldn’t surprise him that the man isn’t wearing underpants, or that his pubic hair is carefully trimmed. He doesn’t dwell on it very long though, instead shifting his gaze to the man’s cock, erect, flushed and jutting out, just waiting for his attention.
“Oh, darling, aren’t you just a sight?” The man’s voice is softer now, his fingers caressing the side of Steve’s face, careful and gentle. Almost tender. “You are gorgeous, even when you glare, I must say. What a prize I snagged tonight, huh, darling? So perfect there on your knees. Just waiting for me to fuck your face, aren’t you, sweetheart?”
Narrowing his eyes, Steve grips the front of the man’s pants. “You want to keep talking like you’re gonna to invite me around for Sunday dinner, or you want me to suck your cock?”
Apparently he isn’t the only one who takes up any challenge given, if the way the man fists the hair at the back of his head and drags him forwards is any indication. Not that he can’t say it wasn’t expected.
“...telling you to get on your knees and choke on my dick?”
It had been what was on offer, after all.
The man is hot and heavy in his mouth, sitting on his tongue more satisfying than any liquor could be. Bracing his hands against the man’s thighs, trying to stop himself from gripping too tightly, he lets the hand on the back of his head press him forward, until the man’s cock is pressing at the back of his throat. He feels his gag reflexes jump, throat spasming, mild panic rising at the idea of actually being choked. The hand stops pushing, starts trying to guide him back, but Steve sucks a breath in through his nose and swallows. The man’s hips jerk, he lets out a startled noise that turns into a moan.
The thought of making this man, so suave and confident start to lose control drives Steve to keep going. He draws back, throat aching, and laves his tongue against the underside of the man’s cock. Blinking the dampness out of his eyes, he glances up, locking eyes with the man, who stares down at him, mouth open slightly, and something far too adoring in his gaze. He frowns the best that he can, hollowing his cheeks and sucking, feeling the man’s thighs tremble beneath his hands, hips jerking again.
“Oh, darling, you really are relentless,” the man purrs, still too coherent for Steve’s liking. “So perfect there, on your knees. It was like you were made for this.”
As he glares, the man takes another sip of his drink, before reaching over and setting it down on a recessed window sill. With both hands free, he frames Steve’s face, thumbs stroking the corners of his mouth, brushing along the line of his lips. One hand drops, fitting loosely against his throat.
“Want me to fuck your face, darling? Make you gag on my cock?” The man asks, almost too gently.
Breathing deep, Steve tries to swallow the excess saliva in his mouth, without letting go of the man’s cock. He gives a half nod, but it’s all he needs to do before he man slides a hand back into his hair and drags him forward. He feels his teeth scrape along the surface of the man’s cock as it’s forced deeper into his mouth, hears him hiss, but finds he doesn’t really care. He can feel the cock pressing against the back of his throat, swallows, then feels it slide deeper.
His own cock throbs and aches, still confined within his pants. He thinks about getting a hand on it, but to be honest his head is spinning so much he isn’t sure he’d stay upright if he took even one hand off the man’s thighs.
The added pressure of the man’s hand on his throat makes every thrust into his throat even more mind-numbingly exhilarating. He can hear the man groaning every time he rolls his hips forward and fucks into Steve’s mouth, not quite drowned out by the thundering of his own pulse in his ears. There’s saliva dribbling out the corners on his mouth, sliding down his chin, jaw starting to ache from the sustained way he’s holding his mouth open, even more than his enhanced body can counteract.
“So good,” he hears the man utter, hand clenched around his hair suddenly pulling back harder.
He feels the man pull out of his mouth, sucks in lungfuls of air, head spinning even as he means to ask why he didn’t finish. Except before he has a chance, the man lets go of his throat, hand shifting to wrap around his cock. He strokes once, twice, then makes a bitten off sound as he comes. Held in place where he is, Steve feels the hot come hit his face, splashing against his cheeks, lips, getting into his open mouth and sliding down his chin to mix with the saliva already there.
The man watches him, panting as he strokes the last strings of come out, catching it on his fingers before sliding them into Steve’s mouth. “Suck darling, get them nice and wet.”
He’s so achingly turned on that he does, not even resisting, just caresses his tongue against the two fingers in his mouth, glaring up at the man in challenge, silently asking him what he’s going to do next. He sucks the come off his skin, bitter against his tongue, and doesn’t even think twice about swallowing it down.
The man wipes a thumb through the mess on Steve’s chin. “This look suits you, darling. It’s almost a shame to move you, but I do believe that I owe you an orgasm.”
Steve just stays kneeling, head still held in place by the hand in his hair, still gently sucking on the man’s fingers. He narrows his eyes slightly, glaring at the man, but it only results in making him smile.
“Oh the things I want to do to you,” he murmurs, carefully pulling his fingers free from Steve’s mouth, dropping his other hand to the back of Steve’s neck and carefully guiding him up, flashing him an almost evil grin. “The things I will do to you.”
It sounds like a promise and a threat all rolled into one. Steve doesn’t even try to resist when the man presses him up against the wall, crowding in against his back. An arm snakes around him, fingers scrabbling at the button and fly of his jeans, deftly undoing them and wasting no time in pushing them down until they’re caught around Steve’s thighs.
Stepping back slightly, the man lets out a low whistle, both hands tracing over the shape of Steve’s arse and down his thighs. “If I hadn’t just blown my load, sweetheart, I’d be burying my dick inside that gorgeous arse of yours, or between those thighs. You’d like that wouldn’t you? Like it if I worked you open and fucked you loose and dirty?”
Steve’s cock throbs. He can feel arousal burning in the pit of his stomach. His face feels hot, he’s sure he’s turning red. “You gonna stand there all day talking? Or you gonna do something?”
“Oh, I’ll do something alright.” The man sneers, crowding up against Steve’s back. One hand grabs Steve’s chin, turning his face to the side. He leans in, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, then wipes his fingers through the come and saliva still on his chin. “I’ll do something.”
The man’s hand leaves his face, then a moment later Steve feels fingers, damp and slick, sliding between his arse cheeks, fingertips pressing against his hole. His breath catches, throat locking up; even with the mix of drying come and saliva the man’s fingers are too dry. He expects the man to keep pressing, but he doesn’t, just rubs small circles, pressing only slightly.
“If we had the provisions, darling, do you think I could work you open enough I could fit my whole hand inside you? Would you like that, my dear?” The man whispers, tracing the words across Steve’s cheek with his tongue, swiping through the mess he’d left there earlier. “Leave you open, gaping, so I could just slide right into you, fuck you sloppy.”
He’s never thought about it, never entertained the idea, but he can see it in his mind. Him on his hands and knees in a dirty alley behind a bar, with the man’s fist inside him, wrecking him. He would just slide right in, using him, filling him up again, then marking him, claiming him with his come.
He’s not sure if it’s the way the man is touching him, or the things that he’s saying, but Steve feels hot, too big for his skin, like he’s about the burst at the seams. His lungs feel too tight, every breath he takes doesn’t feel like it is enough. He feels impossibly out of control, like he’s been bound by more than the man’s hands on him and the wall in front of him.
“You would like that, wouldn’t you, darling?” The man asks again, rubbing his fingers a little harder, the tip of one starting to work its way into Steve. “You want me to claim you, possess you.”
Steve can’t breathe, can’t speak, can’t think. He feels the man’s lips pressing gently against the corner of his mouth, the scratch of facial hair, hot breath.
“Own you.”
Steve feels his throat vapour lock as he comes. Then he’s heaving in breaths, lungs burning, head swimming. He can feel the man petting his thigh gently with one hand, notices the way that the come on his face is starting to dry and itch as he feels his brain slowly coming back online.
Careful hands turn him around, until his back is leaning back against the wall. After he’s caught his breath again, he reaches down to pull his jeans up. Once he’s righted his clothes again Steve glances around him. The man is still standing there, clothes immaculate, glass in hand again.
“Are you alright, darling?” He asks carefully, smile a touch less confident than before, but he masks it by taking a sip of his drink.
Stretching his neck right and then left, Steve rolls his shoulders and wipes a hand across his face, glaring at nothing in particular when he feels dried come and saliva flaking off his skin. “You have some strange kinks, Stark, I’ll give you that.”
Tony’s shoulders relax, his smile growing more genuine. “And yet you indulge me so beautifully, darling.”
Fishing a handkerchief out of his pocket, Steve wipes his face over again, feeling like he needs a wash before he’s going to feel clean again. Or a shower. He’s sure if he frowns in just the right way, Tony would crowd him up against the wall of the shower as well. Giving up his attempts to get clean he tucks the handkerchief back into his pocket. “Is it really such a novelty to fuck someone who doesn’t know you?”
Tony steps closer, pressing himself back into Steve’s space, one hand resting on the side of his neck. He leans in close, pressing his lips against Steve’s, almost chastly. “It’s a novelty getting to do anything with you, darling.”