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Steve had mostly gotten used to how it made him feel that Tony wanted to fuck him in the ass. Tony didn’t insist on it — honestly, with the chemo the way it was, Tony couldn’t rely on being hard long enough for it to justify all the prep — but still, sometimes Steve felt Tony’s eyes on his backside and realized that Tony was thinking about being inside him.
They’d tried a couple of times. Steve’s taken fingers, some small toys, and a brief attempt at the main event before Tony swore creatively at his dick and flopped back on the mattress in a huff. That night Steve had kissed Tony’s mostly hard cock and sucked him off gentle and slow until Tony seemed to forget his frustration. Steve liked doing things like that for Tony. It made him feel useful and capable. So many things threw him for a loop, but pleasuring Tony was easy. Tony told him what to do and how to do it, and Steve complied.
When the other Steve arrived thanks to a cosmic cube incident, Steve tried hard not to be jealous. Tony flirted outrageously with the man. Steve Rogers from Earth-616 was tall and handsome. He looked like Steve, but a version of Steve who’d spent the past ten years building confidence, leading a team. He was graceful where Steve was blocky and overlarge. Tony called him Rogers and plied him with questions about the multiverse and sometimes looked at his ass like he was thinking carnal thoughts.
Steve was at home, staring grouchily at the twenty-four hour news, when Tony called.
“I talked to Rogers,” Tony said. His tone was edged with wheedling — Tony was building up towards asking for something. “And now I need your opinion: what are your feelings on threesomes?”
“With Rogers?” Steve asked, surprised. Steve absolutely — surely — probably — didn’t approve of threesomes. Even if Tony asked for it, in his haughty, affected way, the way that said it was all a joke until you said yes, Steve would — he wouldn’t say yes. He certainly wouldn’t have thought other-him would go for it.
“No, with a platypus,” Tony teased. “Yes, obviously, with Rogers.”
“He agreed?” Steve asked, feeling slightly strangled.
“First he went a magnificent shade of beet red, but then he came to his senses and said he’d be interested in sleeping with us.”
For some reason the us in that sentence made him feel warm inside. Maybe it was the way Tony said it, like they were a unit.
Not me with Rogers and Tony. Rogers with us, Steve thought, and liked the sound of it.
Steve ended up saying yes, and wondered if this was how Rogers felt too, talking to Tony.
Tony told Steve to clean up in a very particular way, then come visit. Steve wasn’t sure what Tony wanted with his ass, but having agreed to a threesome, everything else seemed tame. If Tony wanted Steve to go a couple of rounds with the enema bulb, Steve wasn’t going to ask awkward questions.
Steve let himself in — Tony gave him a key ages ago, around when the booty calls went from a tentative dance of convincing Steve to explore his sexuality to a regular arrangement. Steve suspected that Tony did this with other people too, and he was fine with that. Sex with Tony was good. The future was horrible, and Steve had given up on being loved: the least he could ask for was to be happy a few nights a week.
The living area was empty, so Steve went directly to the bedroom. Maybe Tony and Rogers started without him.
Steve was strangely relieved when he reached Tony’s open door and found both of them an appropriate distance apart, having a quiet conversation and wearing all of their clothes. For Tony that meant a monogrammed robe and silk boxers in — Steve groaned internally — leopard print. Rogers was in an I <3 NY t-shirt and sweatpants that looked freshly bought. He’d come through the cosmic cube event in a blue and silver version of Steve’s uniform, and it looked like he’d gotten sick wearing only that.
Tony noticed Steve in the doorway and motioned subtly for him to wait a moment.
“It’s different,” Rogers was saying wearily. “It’s so different, you wouldn’t understand. He’s done things. Things he doesn’t even remember.”
Tony was wearing the gentle expression he mostly brought out when Steve was banged up badly enough to wish for painkillers. That expression was usually followed by a slow, soft blowjob to take Steve’s mind off his injuries. Steve had to admit it worked a charm. He wondered where Rogers was hurting.
“That’s why I want to show you us together. Enjoy a few hours of practical demonstration, then you can tell me how different it is where you’re from.”
Rogers’ shoulders hunched in on themselves, but Tony sidled up to him, all slinky charm, and kissed him deeply. All the tension bled out of Rogers’ ram-rod spine, and he stroked reverently down Tony’s jaw. Was that how Steve looked, kissing Tony? Like the whole world had bled away?
Tony broke this kiss and looked over Rogers’ shoulder at Steve. “Here to join the party?” he asked, as if Steve had just arrived.
Rogers craned his neck to look; Tony slid his hand down to cup his ass through his sweatpants.
“Let’s get started,” Tony said, laden with promise.
Steve had kind of assumed that Rogers would be off to the side. Maybe they would both kiss him a bit and then Rogers would sit and watch Steve do whatever Tony wanted him to do.
For a while, that’s what happened. Tony undressed Steve while Rogers undressed himself. Steve made to push Tony’s robe down off his shoulders and got a sharp tut in response. That was staying on, then. Steve changed tactics and went for Tony’s boxers and again was shooed away. Steve wrinkled his forehead at Tony, trying to work out Tony’s game. Sometimes Tony left him in ignorance and spun him around until he didn’t know which way was up, and sure, that was hot, but Steve liked to know the plan.
Tony took pity on him and slung both arms around Steve’s neck, leaning close to whisper in his ear. “I’ve been thinking about what you would look like while you get fucked,” he said. “My dick isn’t very reliable, but his is.”
Steve stiffened. He felt bad for Tony when he couldn’t keep an erection, of course he did, but it meant that Tony took the woman’s role any time they bothered to have sex that way, and Steve — Steve felt more comfortable with that. It was simpler. Tony was the flamboyant one, the sissy who took it up the ass. The gay one. Steve just liked to fuck men sometimes.
Tony’s suggestion made Steve’s dick twitch, but that could have just as easily been from Tony’s warm breath in Steve’s ear.
“I can feel you resisting it: your whole body tensed up as soon as I said that. Are you clenching your ass, trying to keep the dick out of it already?” Tony whispered, stroking Steve’s neck. Steve relaxed deliberately and felt the puff of air as Tony laughed silently at him.
“I thought you had me wash up because we were going to mess around with that vibrating gizmo you’ve got or something,” Steve said, more strangled than he wanted.
“It’s humiliating, isn’t it?” Tony said. “Big man like you getting fucked.”
Tony said fucked like it was a perfect bite of steak he was rolling around in his mouth. This time the stirring in Steve’s dick was unmistakably related to Tony's words.
“Yes,” Steve admitted weakly.
“But you’re thinking about what it would be like, aren’t you? Having all that exhausting, rigid control taken from you. I’ll guide you through it, darling. I’ll lead you down the road until all you are is my sweet and docile little cock slut.”
Steve whined against Tony’s neck, unable to deny that the idea made him hard. Tony slid a thigh between Steve’s legs and ground upward to find Steve’s erection, then pulled back to smile slyly at him.
“Okay,” Steve said.
“Atta boy.” Tony patted him on the cheek. “This is going to get positively pornographic.”
They didn’t stick anything in Steve right away. There was some more fooling around, kissing and fondling. Tony did some whispering in Rogers’ ear as well. But then Tony arranged himself on the bed and patted the sheets beside him, and Steve knew it was go time.
Steve crawled over to where Tony sat on the bed and laid out on his stomach next to him. Tony was a little hard under his robe, but not a lot yet. Embarrassingly, Steve was already rigid and dripping.
“Up on your knees a bit,” Tony instructed, stroking soothingly across Steve’s shoulders. “He’s going to need access to all of you.”
Steve shivered in mortified arousal. He knew what access meant. The mattress dipped as Rogers came up behind him.
Tony scooted forward so he could slide his hands down Steve’s flanks, and then took hold of both Steve’s asscheeks. Tony parted them wide, spreading Steve open for Rogers like he was showing off a prized new product. “Now he can see,” Tony told Steve. “I bet you look lovely back there, all rosy and vulnerable.”
Rogers groaned a bit in assent, which made Steve blush. Steve tried to focus on Tony’s warm presence beside him, familiar and safe.
Rogers didn’t wait for a signal from Tony. He just ran a dry finger down the cleft of Steve’s ass, stopping only to rub lightly over his opening. Steve shut his eyes at how good it felt, how intimate.
“How much has he — uh — done this?” Rogers asked, thumb resting right on top of Steve’s asshole, able to feel every time Steve nervously clenched.
“Not a lot,” Tony said. “This is special.”
“Is he going to be okay?”
Steve shifted his weight to one knee and kicked Rogers in the thigh for being a worrywart. “Don’t be a pansy and get the hell on with it,” he grumbled.
“See?” Tony said, and Steve could tell he was smiling just from the sound of his voice. “God forbid any of us be pansies here.”
The next brush of Rogers’ fingertips was slippery, spreading lube around his asshole, only leaving briefly to add more lube before something slipped into Steve. He couldn’t tell anything but that it was inside of him, moving gently but steadily deeper. Steve whined and curled his toes.
“He’s got his middle finger almost all the way in you,” Tony said lowly. Steve clenched around Rogers’ finger, somehow more intense now that he knew what it was. “A little farther and you’ll be able to feel his knuckles brush against you, there, like that, feel him twisting his wrist and screwing his finger deeper?”
Steve definitely felt that. Rogers slid his finger in and out, the slick drag making Steve shudder. Then Tony said, “he’s going to add a little more,” and Steve gasped at the additional invasive breadth. Tony’s hands kneaded his cheeks and pulled him wider, making Steve’s skin stretch more tightly around Rogers’s fingers.
“Good boy, taking it so well,” Tony whispered. “Relax and let him in, darling. You two look so handsome together, it’s like Christmas came early.”
Steve grunted as Rogers found his prostate and rubbed over it.
“I asked him to fuck you without a condom,” Tony told Steve. “I want to see his come drip out of you, and when you come all over yourself I want to know that you’re painted with the same jizz inside and out. You always come so much, Steve. I want you to feel that.”
That was a lot for Steve to process with his double’s fingers up his ass, so he just whined and rocked into Tony’s grip, letting Rogers do to him as he willed.
“Shit,” Rogers swore.
“He’s amazing, isn’t he?” Tony agreed. Steve went hot from the praise and tried hard to be still.
Rogers’ cock, when it touched Steve’s backside, was slick and warm. He slid it up and down, searching for Steve’s entrance, applying gentle pressure as he went. Steve panted against the sheets, thrumming with stomach-twisting anticipation. A cock was going to go in his ass. Another man was going to open up that part of him and make him weak, make him a fairy, a girl. He was going to be filthy forever after this, and he was doing it all because Tony asked him to.
“Look at you giving it up,” Tony said, satisfaction curling through his voice. “I checked, and Rogers has a refractory period just like yours. He can pound your tight ass until it unmans you.”
Rogers caught on Steve’s rim, adjusted slightly, and then the head of him was sliding inexorably inside.
Rogers pushed and Steve’s muscles gave. He felt raw, laid open by the cock inside him. Tony let go of his ass with one hand and instead used it to trace the seam where Steve’s skin stretched around Rogers’ cock. It caused both of them to make an almost-identical gutted noise.
“Lovely,” Tony crooned. “You’re made for getting fucked. Your ass is gorgeous wrapped around a cock.”
Rogers pressed forward and Steve felt his body part. He craned his neck to look up at Tony and caught a glimpse of him focused with avid, possessive fascination at the place where Rogers entered him. Then Rogers thrust properly, seating a good half of his cock inside Steve, and Steve thumped face-down again.
Tony petted Steve’s hair. “Oh, honey, do you feel used?” he asked.
“Yes,” Steve croaked.
“Violated?”
“Yes.”
“Good,” Tony said, and slapped him on the ass. Steve jerked, and it pulled where he was stretched around Rogers’ cock. Rogers’ hips stuttered forward, and Steve moaned.
“How’s it feel, fucking yourself?” Tony asked Rogers.
“Little weird, Stark,” Rogers answered roughly.
“But you see how he trusts me, don’t you? How he knows even if I push him to the limit, I’ll make sure he’s okay?”
“I do,” Rogers whispered, and he sounded somehow even more wrecked than Steve felt. “God, I do.”
“Go ahead then,” Tony said, moving to lean back against the pillows and sighing in contentment. “Fuck him. Like you mean it.”
Rogers paused only to slick more lube onto himself. Then he was gripping Steve by the hips and shoving himself balls deep in one final, smooth thrust. Steve cried out and squeezed his eyes shut; immediately Tony’s hand was in his hair, soothing him. When Steve cracked an eye open, Tony was fondling himself through his boxers with his other hand.
Everything in Steve’s head felt huge and slow, but it didn’t hurt. Rogers pulled back in a massive, inescapable drag, then shoved straight in again in a series of demanding hitches of his hips. Steve’s erection dangled between his legs, untouched and unflagging.
Rogers grunted and worked his dick out, then in again. The sparsely haired fronts of his thighs touched Steve at the apex of his thrust.
It was very different from Tony’s buzzing toy. Steve grit his teeth and tried not to make any noise as Rogers’ cockhead dragged over his prostate. Everything felt tight and almost impossible.
“You should tell him to go faster, sweetheart,” Tony said, pushing Steve’s damp bangs out of his face with careful fingers. At some point Steve’s face had gone sticky with sweat.
Steve didn’t know if he could do that. He shook his head, reluctant to beg for degradation.
“No?” Tony asked. “I have to do all the work, I see how it is. Rogers, pick up the pace, if you please.”
Rogers planted a hand in the center of Steve’s back and rolled his hips more steadily. Steve’s muscles started to give way, and Rogers’ length slid back and forth more easily inside him.
Tony tsked, apparently still unsatisfied. He clicked his fingers in time with Rogers’ thrusts, and then upped the tempo, taking control of the rhythm. The snap of fingers synchronized with the slap of flesh as Rogers drove into Steve with real vigor.
Once he’d set a truly punishing pace, Tony stopped keeping time. “That’ll do, Rogers. Just like that until you come.”
Steve whimpered under the pistoning of Rogers’ hips. His hole was starting to feel battered, prickling and swollen from the relentless back and forth rub of cock. He could feel it starting to go lax and clenched down in protest, determined to stay strong even while his ass was taken under Tony’s direction.
Tightening up only made Rogers groan and fuck forward harder on the next thrust. Steve’s breath whooshed out of him, and he gave in, letting Rogers do as he willed.
Rogers couldn’t keep up that pace forever. With a thick, feral noise Rogers fell forward against Steve’s back and rutted his way to completion. He came deep in Steve’s ass and then went still, cock still hard and invasive inside him.
It was over. Steve had done it. He’d given it up like Tony had wanted, and now maybe he’d get a blowjob or a chance to fuck between Tony’s thighs and come all over them. Steve always liked that, Tony’s pretty legs flushed and covered in Steve’s spend.
“Did you go soft at all?” Tony was asking, and Steve felt Rogers shift against his back as he shook his head. That happened to Steve sometimes too, his body bouncing straight from orgasm to desperately hard with no time in between. It made everything more intense the second time, but it was good, better even, when every ghosting touch against his cock made him shudder and gasp.
Tony whistled, low and impressed. “Amazing. Can you roll my Steve onto his back? I want you to fuck him some more but I’m dying to see his face while you do it.”
That hadn’t been enough? Steve whined a protest as Rogers slid out of him and flipped him over, arranging him with his head resting in Tony’s lap and his knees spread wantonly. Rogers shoved a pillow under his hips and pushed his knees even wider. His ass felt sore and open.
Rogers smeared Steve with more lube, then buried himself to the hilt again. Steve cried out, but Tony was there, wrapping a slick hand around Steve’s cock and jerking him firmly.
“Ah! Fucking hell, Tony,” Steve yelped.
Steve was not the kind of man who yelped. But he also wasn’t the kind of man who got assfucked, and here he was nonetheless. At one point, he’d thought he wasn’t the kind of man who sucked cock.
Rogers fucked into Steve hard, grabbing him by the shoulder to better drive Steve onto his dick.
With Tony stroking his cock, the fullness in Steve’s ass felt embarrassingly good. Everywhere across Steve’s skin sparked with pleasure, constant and disorienting. Would it be so bad if he gave in and stopped worrying? The virginity of his asshole was a lost cause; why not be a slut for it like Tony promised he could be?
“Oh, good job, Steve, my Steve, my good boy,” Tony said as soon as Steve surrendered to getting fucked. “It takes so much to fuck the stubborn out of you, but you got there.”
Steve moaned a bit in response, dumb and needy, but Tony just stroked his forehead and touched his cock, all the while telling him how good he was, how well he took it, how much Tony wanted to stuff him with a dildo and make him walk around with his ass stretched all the time, beautiful like he was now.
“I look so happy with you,” Rogers whispered, staring down with a wondering expression. “I look like I — like — but that’s not possible. It can’t be.”
“Tony’s my friend,” Steve said as best he could with Rogers slamming into him every other word. His voice sounded soft and dreamy in his own ears. “He’s the one thing in the future that feels safe. I’m not wasting my time with him being unhappy.”
“Steve,” Tony said softly, expression gone strange, almost pained. Steve reached up to stroke his cheek, the gesture awkward upside-down, made uncoordinated by the rock of Rogers still determinedly fucking him. Tony shouldn’t waste time being unhappy either.
Tony turned his head and kissed Steve’s palm, which sent warmth all down Steve’s arm. Tony’s beard was scratchy against Steve’s fingers as he whispered, “Don’t worry, baby. I’m taking care of you.”
Even through the haze of sex, Steve felt like things might be getting dangerously touchy-feely. It was time to get this show on the road. “You’d better,” he told Tony, and glanced pointedly at where Tony’s hand had stilled on his dick.
“Okay, okay,” Tony said, smiling. “I knew you’d be insatiable.”
Steve dropped his hand from Tony’s face and used it to pat around blindly in Tony’s lap, hunting around for his cock.
“No,” Tony said, gently putting Steve’s hand back on the bed. “You focus on that super-soldier cock up your ass. Lie back and get a taste of what your own dick feels like. Magnificent, isn’t it?”
“Aw shucks,” Rogers said. “It’s not that big.”
“Having had that horn inside me more than a few times, Rogers, it’s plenty big.”
“Oh,” Rogers said, his rhythm faltering.
“Don’t get distracted, soldier,” Tony chided. “Focus on the ass you have, not the one you want.”
Rogers nodded like he was receiving an order in the field. Steve gasped as Rogers grabbed his knee and hooked it over his shoulder. The new position tugged on Steve where he was spread open, making him realize how much resistance had already been fucked out of him. He felt almost loose.
“Mmmm, that’s nice to look at,” Tony purred. “You can take him nice and deep now without any problem at all. You’re sloppy, buttercup.”
Tony was right. Steve felt wet and wanton, already full of come and headed for a second batch of it. Rogers must have enjoyed hearing that, because he got rougher, making Steve’s head bounce in Tony’s lap. Steve was honestly impressed; he hoped he fucked Tony this well when he did it. Tony’s hand was still jerking him off, and Steve found himself squirming and bucking, trying to find the right combination of sensations to get off.
“There we go, now we’re cooking with petrol,” Tony said, and got serious about touching Steve the way he liked it.
“Ngh,” said Steve.
“That’s right,” Tony urged. “Come for me, boys, be good for me.”
Rogers came first: a frantic jackrabbiting of his hips and a hot, stinging rush inside of Steve. Steve wasn’t quite there — he could feel the build but wasn’t hitting his peak yet, and he felt a cold squirm of despair at disappointing Tony, unable to do what he asked. Steve almost opened his mouth to apologize as Rogers pulled out of him in a mess of sticky come, but Tony was there, swinging around to bowl Rogers out of the way and kneel between Steve’s legs himself.
Then Tony’s finger was pushing into Steve’s slack ass, twisting inside him in time with the hand on Steve’s dick. Steve whined, high and desperate, mouth stumbling over the word more. He could feel his swollen opening gapping around Tony’s finger when he tugged on the rim, and Steve wanted to be full again, this time with Tony’s clever hands.
“Cock slut,” Tony said smugly. “I told you by the end you’d be begging to have your ass filled.”
Steve swore at him and bucked his hips, greedy for orgasm.
Tony did something that stretched. “For a man who hates being called a fag, you sure love having half my hand in your guts,” he said, delighted. “I’ve been neglecting you, sugartits. Your asshole should be wrapped around my wrist five nights a week. Imagine what that would look like. I’d take a picture just to show you.”
Tony pumped Steve’s cock just right, talking absolute filth the whole time, terrible, degrading things he wanted to do to Steve, and Steve was finished. He came, trembling and noisy like a gibbering idiot. Tony praised him through it, petting around inside his asshole and delicately jerking his sensitive cock while Steve spilled all over himself. Covered in the same come inside and out, just like Tony had wanted.
When Steve was done, Tony sat back on his haunches and wiped both hands on the sheets. “I think that went well,” Tony said.
Rogers coughed into his fist, reminding Steve of his existence — somehow he’d forgotten the man whose dick was inside him a minute and a half ago just because Tony put some fingers in his butt — and motioned towards Tony’s boxers, which were at this point impressively tented.
“I could help you with that,” Rogers said lowly.
Tony regarded him sharply. “No thank you, sweetheart. I think my Stevie deserves a treat for being so sweet and accommodating.”
“A treat?” Steve asked fuzzily.
Tony stroked Steve’s hair. “I was thinking I could come all over your handsome chest so that everyone knows who you belong to,” he said.
Steve blinked, then nodded. That would be good. He liked being Tony’s; he could wear Tony like a badge of honor, at least until he found a washcloth.
Rogers made a helpless, desperate sound, but Tony was unmoved. He took his cock out of his terrible, gaudy boxers and straddled Steve’s hips, eyes lidded in bliss as he stroked himself. Steve knew what Tony liked while he pleasured himself, so he stroked his hands carefully up Tony’s thighs, over the crest of his hipbone to palm his ass, then slid them back down to start again. Tony sighed happily when Steve added a delicate scrape of fingernails across his skin.
A tearing sound caught Steve’s attention. Rogers had gripped the sheets so tightly they ripped. Steve watched as Tony treated Rogers to a solemn, weighty stare, then focused back on Steve. Tony’s fist worked fast, eyebrows pinching together the way they always did when he was right on the edge — and then hot come spattered on Steve’s chest, mixing with the cooling mess that was already there.
“My good boy,” Tony whispered, petting Steve’s hair one more time, then rolled off him with a groan to lie, spread-eagled, between a slightly bewildered pair of Captain Americas, neither of whom, Steve thought, were entirely sure what had just happened to them.
They lazed stickily until, indignity upon indignities, Tony’s phone rang and he declared forlornly that he had to take the call.
“Get to know each other, I’ll only be a minute,” Tony said.
Tony’s idea of a minute on the phone ranged from cheerfully yelling go fuck yourself into the receiver and hanging up, to about half an hour.
“I’ll, um, get you a washcloth,” Rogers said, rising gingerly from the bed and heading for the en suite.
Steve lay still and tried to squeeze his ass properly shut again. He was starting to feel sore now that the daze of orgasm was fading. What a strange thing, being undone. He wondered if Rogers had ever tried this, or if chemo had given his Tony a faulty cock too.
Rogers came back with a couple of damp washcloths and a towel wrapped around his waist. Steve didn’t get what he had to hide — he didn’t have anything Steve didn’t see in the shower every day. It was a bit late for modesty. Maybe Rogers thought Steve would prefer not to look at the dick he’d been fucked with. That was considerate, Steve supposed. He was already going to have a hard time looking at Tony’s hands without imagining Tony’s knuckles pushing past his entrance.
Steve started to prop himself up on his elbows and discovered that it made the spunk on his chest threaten to drip down into his pubic hair. He returned to horizontal, not interested in wiping that up. Rogers sat down on the bed next to him, and Steve reached for a washcloth, but instead Rogers took it upon himself to wipe Steve’s chest. The washcloth was warm on Steve’s skin. He sighed and decided he was too tired to object to the coddling.
“Why’d you wanna blow my Tony so bad?” Steve asked, once Rogers had him mostly cleaned up.
“Huh?” Rogers asked.
“It wasn’t real subtle.”
Rogers folded the washcloth dirty-side-in and set it on the nightstand. “It’s not a big deal,” he lied.
Hell, Steve hoped he was a better liar than that. He told the truth most of the time anyway, so it didn’t come up much, but Rogers was hopeless.
“Is it your Tony? Is his cancer worse?”
Rogers let out a breathy laugh. “He doesn’t have cancer. His heart — it’s always been a problem, but no. He’s not dying.”
Steve grit his teeth against his surge of furious jealousy. Not dying. What Steve wouldn’t give for a world where Tony wasn’t fucking dying.
“What’s wrong with him then? He straight?”
“No,” Rogers said shortly, jaw working. Rogers was making this difficult inside his head, more than it needed to be. The solution wasn’t complicated.
“Then man up and go suck your own damn Tony’s cock; it’s embarrassing to walk around gagging for it all the time.” Steve should know; after the first time they got together, Tony spent a month poking fun at Steve for mooning around like a teenage girl and sneaking glances in the shower.
Rogers narrowed his eyes. “You can’t understand us.”
“I feel like I can,” Steve countered. “Given that you and I are the same person.”
“You don’t even realize that you’re in love with him!” Rogers snapped.
Steve froze.
“Sorry,” Rogers said, after a beat.
The silence in Steve’s head was like ice over a winter lake, the kind that would make a high thin groan if he moved, too thin to protect his weight from the cold water below. There was no safe direction to step in.
“If it helps, yours loves you back,” Rogers said bitterly. “He’s barely even trying to hide it.”
Steve shook his head mutely.
Rogers rolled his eyes. “We’ve known him for over a decade, it’s amazing you can’t tell.”
“I’ve known him for eight months,” Steve said, frowning. “I met him right after I thawed out.”
“Oh,” Rogers said. His mouth twisted into a thin, uneven line. “Congratulations, that was quick.”
Steve flushed with fury. It melted some of the ice in his veins and he could move again. Anger he was better at. “Fuck you, Rogers. I woke up and everyone I loved was old, dead, or dying. So, yeah, I let Tony Stark roll me into bed as soon as he was single. God forbid I have anything pleasant.”
“I didn’t mean you were easy,” Rogers said. “Just lucky.”
“I’m not lucky. He’s going to die,” Steve said fiercely. “And I — I want — I’m going to be with him. However I can, until there’s nothing left inside of his skull but the cancer. You have him for as long as you want: I’d call that fortunate.”
“We have...history,” Rogers said.
“So get over it,” Steve retorted. “I got over being a cocksucker; you can get over whatever the hell’s gotten up your ass about Tony and started rotting in there.”
Rogers closed his eyes and started to laugh. It had an edge of hysteria to it. “How am I such a homophobe in this universe?”
“I said I got over it,” Steve grumbled.
That made Rogers laugh harder. The way his eyes were squeezed shut made Steve suspect he was holding back tears. Whatever had happened to this sleeker, more commanding version of himself, it must have been terrible.
“You should tell him you want to be with him,” Rogers said, when he had calmed. “The way he looks at you — you should tell him.”
“I still think you should blow yours,” Steve replied. He paused and wondered how to put the next bit that wouldn’t make him sound like a sally. “When Tony touched you, it was like all the hurt on you went away. That wasn’t about a man you met a couple days ago.”
“Will you stop telling me to have sex with Tony? It’s not happening. It’s too complicated between us.”
“Your funeral,” Steve muttered.
Rogers caught the comment — enhanced hearing, right, it was weird being in a room with himself — and shuddered with a bit more of that bad laughter. “Had one of those already, actually,” he said. “Tony was there; he barely said five words of the eulogy before walking off the stage. I watched a tape recording of it.”
Steve blinked. Okay, he had to give Rogers some credit — maybe it was complicated. Didn’t change the action plan: take Tony to bed, find a few moments of joy, deal with the rest later. It had worked out fine for Steve. It was fine. Rogers’ shout came back to echo through Steve’s mind like a cold wind: You don’t even realize that you’re in love with him! He shifted on the bed, which pulled on his tired ass, which made him shiver and think about Tony’s hands.
A door slammed down the hall, heralding the end of Tony’s phone call and his imminent return. Both Steve and Rogers jumped.
“I’ll tell mine if you blow yours,” Steve whispered quickly.
“No!”
“Coward.”
“I hope you haven’t started round two without me, O Captains my Captains!” Tony hollered as he approached.
“If anyone else tries to touch my ass tonight I’ll punch them in the kidneys,” Steve shouted in Tony’s direction. Then he scowled at Rogers, who stubbornly scowled back.
“Maybe,” Rogers allowed, and then Tony swept through the doorway, robe billowing behind him, thousand-watt smile plastered to his face.
“What do you call the spoons when there’s three people in bed and two of them are clones?” Tony asked grandly. He dropped a kiss on Rogers’ forehead as he passed, then laid a proper one on Steve’s lips. “I’m thinking ice cream sundae metaphor. I’ll be the strawberry and vanilla and you boys shall be my bananas.”
“You want us to stay the night?” Steve asked, hating how hopeful he sounded. Rogers caught his eye and mouthed tell him.
Tony stared at Steve for a long moment, then smiled — the real one, a little rueful and lopsided. “Yes,” he said softly. “I think that would be lovely.”