Archive of Our Own ^beta

Another day, another fire-breathing sludge monster from hell invading New York and Tony’s almost at the end of his tether. Not only has he had to relay the calculations for a specific Einstein-Rosen bridge to transport the creature while dodging massive tongues of blinding flame, but he then had to arm and drop one of SHIELD’s Elitzur–Vaidman bombs onto the monster when the Einstein-Rosen plan failed and it took a liking to MoMA.

Point is, at the end they’re left with huge piles of toxic sludge. Which also happens to be on fire. Tony’s day just keeps getting better and better.

Tony pulls off his helmet as he touches down, breathing in the ash wafting down 53rd Street and taking a moment to relish not being chased by huge tongues of flame.

“Mr. Stark!” a SHIELD goon cries, running towards him, complete with a bright orange hazmat suit, “Dr. Adams sir,” she says, face bright, although whether from exertion or the confines of the orange monstrosity is debatable. “Chemical analysis of the sludge showed no acidic component however–“

“There’s a high methylmercury content so try not to touch it anyway,” Tony snaps back, “the red flames were kinda a giveaway. I did take basic chemistry.”

“Mr. Stark–“ the agent tries again, a valiant effort really.

“Save it,” Tony says, waving a hand, “besides, it should really be Dr. Stark, I’ve got at least four more doctorates than you.”

“Tony, stop terrorising Agent Adams and come help with the civilian evacuation,” Steve’s voice comes onto the comm, full of humour.

“She keeps calling me Mr. Stark,” Tony protests, fitting his helmet back on.

“That’s your name Tony,” Steve points out.

“It’s not! I have doctorates Steve! Multiple! No one shows me the proper respect around here.”

“Well then,” Steve says, his voice lowering a slight fraction, “perhaps Dr. Stark should fly over to Park Avenue before anyone can insult his position any further.”

Tony feels his breath hitch slightly as Steve’s voice settles in his bones, spreads through him in a rush, leaving his fingers tingling.

Huh , Tony thinks.

—-

There’s a party after, there usually is after a battle that wraps quickly, that doesn’t take a lot out of them. Sometimes Tony feels like living with the Avengers is like MIT frat parties all over again.

It certainly feels like MIT frat parties, he thinks, as Steve bites gently down on his neck. Tony moans, arching up into the sensation, stuck between the cool wall of the living room and Steve’s hot body.

“Get a room,” Clint slurs, from across the room. Tony sighs, reluctantly pushing Steve back.

“Bed now or later?” Tony asks, his fingers twining absentmindedly in Steve’s hair, still wet from their shower. Steve lets out a shudder at movement, his eyes darting back to Tony’s neck.

“Stop that,” Steve says, reaching up and grabbing onto Tony’s hands, leaning into a chaste kiss, which Tony returns, careful to keep their bodies apart.

“Really?” Tony says as they pull apart, and he doesn’t whine, he doesn’t .

“I haven’t checked on Carol yet,” Steve explains, and Tony rolls his eyes, even as a warm feeling seeps up in his chest.

“Steve, I can guarantee you that Carol is fine and is probably busy blowing both Rhodey’s mind and–“

Steve puts a hand over Tony’s mouth before he can finish that sentence, a frown of disapproval on his face, “Tony.”

Tony bites on the fingers over his mouth, Steve releases with a yelp. “Steve.”

Steve leans in, breath ghosting over Tony’s ear, “Stop it.”

Tony shivers, “Stop what?” he asks, very proud of his steady voice.

Steve bites down gently on Tony’s ear and Tony can’t help but draw in a startled breath. “How are you still so desperate for it?” Steve whispers, “We only showered an hour ago.”

Adrenaline still pounds round Tony’s body, desperate for a release. Still, he manages to lean back, look Steve in the eyes and give him a cheeky grin. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Steve’s eyes narrow, something dangerous, the look of a predator before it pounces. Tony can’t hide the full shudder that wracks through him. A second passes, two. Then–

BANG. The room to the living room is kicked open, a flushed and beaming Carol tumbling through, followed by a laughing Rhodey.

Steve and Tony leap apart, Tony hastily untucks his shirt and sees Steve lean against the wall where he had propped Tony up a couple of minutes ago and take several deep breaths.

“Finished?” Tony says, heading towards the smiling pair. God, his voice sounds about an octave higher than normal.

Rhodey looks at him, then Steve, and turns away, shaking his head and muttering something inaudible under his breath. Wow, it really is like MIT days.

Carol raises her eyebrows and wisely changes the subject.

—-

They end up ordering pizza and sitting in a circle on couches, trading accounts of the battle. Tony perches on an armrest, Steve’s hand resting on the small of his back.

“I’m jus’ saying!“ Tony protests to the room, his face stuffed full of pizza. “I want to be awarded the proper respect I deserve! You see Strange being called “Dr.” and all he does is wave his hands and say mumbo jumbo–“

“Strange is a neurosurgeon by training,” Carol reminds him, curled up beside Rhodey.

“I don’t care! The point is that I have at least five more doctorates than him but what do I get?”

“You don’t have five doctorates,” Natasha says, reaching for another slice of pizza.

Tony snaps his fingers, “Of course, you’re totally right. Five’s too low, I’ve got at least seven–“

“Fine!” Clint says, throwing his hands in the air, “We’ll just call you ‘Dr. Stark’ whenever we address you: Dr. Stark’s choice in movies is terrible. Dr. Stark cheats at Monopoly, Dr. Stark–“

Tony is saved from throwing a pillow at Clint by Steve’s huge yawn, low and sending a warm swell through Tony.

“Right, bedtime for Captain America,” Tony says, jumping up and pulling on Steve’s hand. “Come on you lug."

Steve lets Tony pull him to his feet, “Goodnight all,” he says to the room, a strangely smug look on his face as Tony drags him to the door.

They barely get the other side of the doorway before the world spins and next thing Tony knows he’s being shoved up against the closed door and being kissed within an inch of his life.

Tony gasps, Steve just takes the opportunity to lick his way further into Tony’s mouth. Tony can’t help the small moan he lets out, as he just lets Steve take him, claim his mouth in every way possible.

Steve pulls back for breath and Tony tries to remember his own name, “What the hell was that for?”

Steve just blushes and buries his face in Tony’s neck, his innocent posture contrasted with the absolutely sinful things his teeth and tongue and lips are doing to Tony’s skin.

“You sneaky bastard,” Tony says, gasping as Steve settles at his favourite spot at the apex of Tony’s shoulder.

“Bed,” Steve mumbles into Tony’s shoulder pulling back and leading the way to their shared bedroom, Tony practically sprints after him.

Finally, finally , they’re in the sanctity of the bedroom and Tony stops holding back every grunt, moan and hiss at the feeling of Steve’s body on his.

“Not that I’m complaining,” he says, as they separate to remove their shirts, Steve pulling his t-shirt off with one fluid motion and Tony fumbling with the buttons as quickly as possible, “But what the hell brought this on?”

“Do you really have seven doctorates?” Steve asks, even as he fumbles with the zip on Tony’s pants.

“Steve, no offence,” Tony says, smoothing his palms down the eighth wonder of the world that is Steve’s chest, “but is that all that you really have to talk about?”

Steve leans in, meeting Tony’s lips in yet another filthy kiss. “I like it,” he murmurs, against Tony’s lips. “Dr. Stark,” he says, with the same low intonation as he had used on the battlefield.

And if Tony wasn’t fully hard before, he certainly is now. His cock presses against the confines of his boxers, Steve’s hand wanders down and cups it. Tony falls into Steve with a sigh.

“Say that again,” Tony says, as Steve leads him to the bed.

Steve falls back, pulling Tony flush against him. “Dr. Stark,” he says, pushing up into Tony’s body, both of them groaning at the pressure.

“You like that,” Tony accuses, as he leans down to kiss Steve’s neck.

“ You like that,” Steve replies, laughing before pushing Tony away.

Tony continues undeterred, kissing his way past Steve’s collarbone, down, over his stomach. “May I?” Tony asks, letting his warm exhales rush over the front of Steve’s boxers.

Steve lets out a moan.

That’s all the incentive that Tony needs, he pulls down the front of Steve’s boxers, lets his cock spring free and immediately swallows the head down.

“Uh-uh,” is all Steve manages, as he bucks up. Tony calms him with a pat on the thigh.

“Easy, big guy,” Tony says, going to swallow him back down.

He loves this, he’ll easily admit it. The weight and heft of Steve on his tongue feel just right. He feels full, useful. Steve lets out another moan as Tony flicks his tongue over the slit and there’s a deep feeling of content in Tony’s chest. He could just stay here forever, sucking Steve’s cock like it was his one duty on Earth.

Steve's words float through the pleasure haze, making the world brighter.

“So good for me. All that genius finally put to use. Your mouth was made for this, god. Every single part of you trained with scientific precision for pleasure, for love. Yes, that’s it. More– oh my– Tony.”

Steve shudders, his cock jumping on Tony’s tongue and he’s coming, the bitter taste of it spreading across Tony’s tongue and coating Tony’s throat. Tony swallows, trying to capture every last drop. To have Steve inside him, in any way possible, is the purest form of pleasure.

He keeps Steve in his mouth until he starts to go soft, then Tony pulls off, albeit reluctantly, and makes his way back up Steve’s body, to where Steve’s head lies on the pillow. His eyes are shut and his mouth is still open, slack with pleasure.

“Was Dr. Stark satisfactory?” Tony asks, grinning, giving Steve a slightly-more-than-a-peck just so that Steve can taste himself on Tony’s tongue.

Steve shakes his head slightly, “More than you can imagine.”

Tony can’t resist giving Steve another kiss, his head spinning as Steve’s leg finds the hard curve of Tony’s cock and pushes up.

Tony breaks away, breathing hard, and then the world spins as Steve flips them over, so that Tony is covered by Steve’s glorious body.

“God bless America,” Tony mumbles, his hands finding the hard muscles in Steve shoulders and pressing down.

Steve snorts, his hand drifting down pulling Tony’s boxers off his hips. “Tell me about them.”

“What?”

“You said you had seven doctorates,” Steve says, wrapping his hand around Tony in a blaze of heat. “Tell me about them.”

“Uhh…” Tony says, his brain temporarily brought offline by the friction of Steve’s calluses on his cock. “Well, there’s engineering, that’s the first one. Did my thesis on reconstruction of quantum entanglement mechanisms using VR.”

Steve lets out a small gasp, his hand speeding up on Tony’s cock. “And the next one?”

“Physics,” Tony says, his skin starting to feel too small to contain all the unbridled pleasure soaring through his veins. “Heterotic string compactification and quiver gauge theory on toric geometry. That was my best one.”

Steve’s breathing becomes erratic against the side of his neck. “And?”

“Maths,” Tony says, arching up. He’s close, so close. “Defining physics at imaginary time and reflection positivity for Riemann manifestations– Steve ."

Steve bites down on the side of Tony’s neck, shaking and Tony is torn apart.

He doesn’t remember coming this hard in ages , pleasure ricochets through his body, reverberating deep in his bones and he bends, gasps, Steve’s hand his one constant through the unrelenting waves of pleasure.

He comes back to himself slowly, aware of Steve panting against the side of his neck, he moves his leg slightly and sure enough, there’s a wet patch spreading on the sheet.

“Did you–“

“Sorry,” Steve says, dropping a kiss on Tony’s lips. “You’re just..incredible.”

“You find my doctorates incredibly sexy?”

“Incredible,” Steve repeats, a soft smile on his lips. “I’ll be right back, I’ll just go get something to clean up.”

Steve leaves and Tony’s left staring at the ceiling, listening to the rush of the tap, the slight creak of the bathroom door.

“Here you go,” Steve says as he climbs back up onto the bed, slowly running the warm washcloth over Tony’s stomach.

Tony lets out a sigh, that quickly turns into a yawn.

“Come on,” Steve says, lifting the sheets and letting Tony slip under. “Even geniuses need their sleep.”

“Genii,” Tony mutters, his eyes closing.

Steve snorts, footsteps padding away, before returning and sliding right under the covers, curling up against Tony. “You haven’t finished the list.”

“Hmm?” Tony asks, his mind like molasses, sweet and slow and warm.

“You said you had seven doctorates,” Steve says, a broad stripe of heat down Tony’s back. “I only heard three.”

Tony yawns, “I only did the work for three of them, the rest are honorary.”

He feels Steve laugh against the back of his neck, “You’re incorrigible, Dr. Stark.”

“Right back at you, Captain Rogers,” Tony mumbles, before the warmth sweeps him away to sleep.