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Tony can admit it when Steve has decent ideas. It doesn’t happen often (Tony admitting it, that is), which makes it all the notable and noticeable when it does.
In this case, said ideas tend to involve Tony’s getting fucked on the regular. It’s a good arrangement; a great arrangement, really. A chance post-battle brush-up that one time revealed Steve to be a horny son of a bitch who often has excess energy that needs burning off, and as it so happens Tony’s a horny son of a bitch who’s more than willing to enjoy that burning off. It helps, of course, that Steve’s a fantastic lay.
So what started with a Steve-initiated round of frottage in the Quinjet that first time, led to handjobs in the workshop, to Tony’s choking on Steve’s dick in the gym, to Tony’s ass getting a super soldier workout as and when is necessary. Which is often, and varied, and has given Tony a collection of memorable bruises in unexpected places.
It’s pretty fucking spectacular. Who knew the Captain had it in him? Though Tony’s the one who’s having it in him these days. (rimshot)
So beneficial and pleasing is this arrangement, that when Bucky Barnes is fished out of the wilderness and dumped into the Tower, Tony is irritated. Sure, the team could use another member, but Tony has no interest in with whatever codependent bullshit is going on between the Old Timey Duo, with their private language and intense catching up and weird indiscernible clinginess. It’s boring as fuck, and monopolizes almost all of Steve’s downtime.
Unfortunately, this means that for a few weeks, Tony has an abrupt and tragic shortage of Steve’s dick. That’s the true sacrifice, really. Tony knows that he’ll find a way to make do; there are more dicks in the sea, and all that.
At least, Tony assumed that he’d have to make this sacrifice. He’s proven wrong when one random day in the desert of unexpected dreadful celibacy, Steve waylays him after a pedestrian mission. No one else is in earshot, and Steve grabs Tony’s elbow in that oft-familiar way and whispers, “My room, tonight.”
Tony raises an eyebrow at him. “Why, you want to braid my hair and talk about boys?”
“Or I could fuck you until you can’t walk.” Steve shrugs. “I know which one I prefer.”
“Ah. I’ll pencil it in.”
So Steve’s still interested. Or at least, there’s still space in Steve’s warped little world for activities that don’t involve Bucky. That’s a nice surprise, and it gives Tony a spring in his step for the rest of the day. (He should’ve seen it coming.)
That night, Tony goes to Steve’s room.
It gets hot and heavy pretty quick because hey, dry spell. Their clothes come off, Tony sucks on Steve’s tongue until his jaw aches, Tony plays with Steve’s dick until it’s leaking, and Steve buries his face in Tony’s crotch while fingering him open. Tony’s raring to go before Steve even gets up to his second knuckles, and the only reason Tony doesn’t touch himself is because it’s more fun to let Steve touch him.
Yeah, Steve’s hot and knows what he’s doing, so what? Tony would never deny that.
They get on the bed with Tony on his back, limbs splayed while Steve sits between his legs. It isn’t Tony’s favorite position, to be honest, but the prospect of a decent railing has him excited. Hell, his mouth waters just from Steve’s moving his erection into place, the thick slab of it flushed red and eager.
“Get in,” Tony pants. “Get in, get it in, you bastard.”
“You gonna let me?” Steve counters. “You gonna let me do what I want?”
“Yeah, yeah, just get in there.”
“Hmm, let’s be sure.” Steve pushes, a blunt press that soon gives way as Tony’s hole opens for him. A boring person would take their time, ease their way in incrementally, but Steve’s an asshole who slides all the way home in a gliding stroke that has Tony making a high-pitched sound that could be counted as a shriek.
The stretch and fullness go all the way deep. The burn at his opening eases as Steve starts to pump, steady thrusts that bring their bodies together in filthy magic. God, yes, Tony’s needed this. He needed Steve in him, cock spearing into him and his hands digging into the meat of Tony’s inner thighs.
There’s so much. Tony’s mouth seems unable to close, making noises in between drooling, while Steve breathes hard and deep as though working Tony’s body is only marginally more satisfying than hitting a punching bag. Not that Steve’s fooling anyone – his eyes betray how much he enjoys Tony’s ass, ripe and open and taking all of him.
Steve’s dick is so big that he just needs to shift a little to hit Tony’s prostate, sending pleasure shooting through Tony’s body light like lightning. That’s Cap for ya, his aim is always accurate and unrelenting, nailing Tony’s sweet spot as though his one purpose is to drive him fucking insane.
“Yeah, yeah, fuck me,” Tony hisses. “Fuck me, fuck me, right there. So big, god you’re so big, thank fuck you know what to do with that.”
“What, bury myself in your ass?” Steve has a hand on Tony’s ankle, holding one leg up as he adjusts his position. With the other hand he pets the taut muscle by Tony’s balls, the slow touch incongruous with the pounding that’s going on right next to it. “Not exactly difficult, Tony. It’s a sweet ass.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“You know what I mean,” Steve says with an eye-roll. “You’re always gagging for it. Doesn’t take much to get you off.”
“Oh please.” Tony smacks at Steve’s arm, which is rather like smacking a marble pillar, except the marble pillar is also fucking him. “You want to be in me all the time. All the time.”
“Yeah.” Steve sighs, eyes drifting half-shut in dreamy acknowledgement. “You’re always so warm and tight. Feels good.”
Tony squeezes around Steve’s length to emphasize that highly accurate statement. Steve groans with it, a sexy sound that’s echoed by the whole-body shudder that makes his muscles flex. Steve may have point about Tony’s one-track mind, but it’s not like Steve’s that much better. Steve’s the one who uses his annoyingly righteous poker face to mask his casual molesting of Tony whenever he pleases: a hand along his inseam here, a thumb running across Tony’s fly there, with only his timing to ensure that no one sees anything untoward.
But at least Steve follows through. He doesn’t tease for the sake of it, because it always leads here, with Tony stuffed full and dripping pre-come all over himself while Steve pounds him. This time he’s going to get bruises under his knees, thanks to Steve’s holding his legs up like this.
“Don’t stop,” Tony gasps. “More, more, oh god, oh god, I – wha—”
Steve hasn’t paused, which means that Tony’s still moving with him, his whole body rocking with Steve’s strong, rhythmic thrusts. But Tony’s attention is shot, because the door has opened and Bucky is walking in.
“Steve,” Tony says.
Bucky’s dressed in a thin cotton shirt and shorts, and seems completely unfussed that he’s walked in on them. In fact, Bucky approaches the bed with an expression of mild curiosity, taking in the scene with barely a blink. One would think him unaffected by any of it, except that he’s sporting a chubby that curves up and to the right.
“Steve,” Tony says.
“Yeah.” Steve tugs Tony’s right leg higher, onto Steve’s shoulder and forcing more weight onto Tony’s upper back. A slight adjustment and Steve’s pounding again, deep drives in that rattle the whole bed. Tony moans, momentarily distracted by how good it is, until he feels the mattress shift when a new body joins them on it. Bucky, that is.
“Steve!” Tony glares up at Steve, and moves his gaze pointedly from Steve to Bucky and back. “Are you not seeing this or …?”
“You know I don’t keep anything from him.” Steve makes a low-throated sound as a wave of pleasure rushes over him, and turns to run his teeth against Tony’s calf. “Everything that’s mine is his.”
“Fine, sure, it’s—” Tony gasps when Steve grinds his hips, a sharp circling that makes Tony see stars. “Whatever you two do is your own business, but this isn’t—” Tony trails off when Bucky takes his shirt off.
An alarm rings at the back of Tony’s head, but it feels distant, subsumed by the glee of a good dicking, along with the surrealness of Bucky Barnes now tugging his shorts off. That’s way more skin (plus metal) of Bucky’s than Tony expected to ever see, and that’s not even counting the really impressive dick curling up towards his stomach. He’s a big guy overall, maybe even as big as Steve.
“Hey,” Bucky says, nodding at Tony. He picks the discarded lube bottle, squirting a palmful that he quickly slathers on his cock.
“Okay.” Steve slows down, his thrusts turning into shallow hitches that allow him to catch his breath. Sweat glistens on his pecs and trails down the side of his face and neck. He turns to Bucky. “I’ve opened him up. You ready?”
“Wait, what,” Tony says. Bucky moves onto his hands and knees, and semi-crawls his way towards Steve. “Wait wait wait, what are you doing?”
“Bucky hasn’t had any for a long time,” Steve says. He slips out of Tony, leaving a shocking emptiness that has Tony automatically clenching on nothing in frustration. But that frustration bats up against the alarm screaming in Tony’s head, because Bucky’s smoothly moving into the space Steve vacated, like some kind of tag team.
Tony starts to push himself up onto his elbows, but Steve’s on him immediately, hands like iron bands that hold Tony’s shoulders flat against the bed. Tony claws at Steve’s arms clumsily, unable to process what’s happening until he feels soft, tentative pressure at his hole.
“Hey, no!” Tony yells. “You don’t get to – no!”
“You’ll enjoy it,” Steve says. He’s so strong, he’s not even straining to keep Tony flat and without any give whatsoever. “A dick is a dick, right? Just let Bucky have some fun.”
“I didn’t sign up for…” Tony’s mouth falls open, because Bucky’s pushing into him, an unfamiliar bare cock sliding through Tony’s lube-slicked opening. Tony’s so shocked that he doesn’t even tighten up, and it’s a smooth sailing glide for Bucky all the way home.
Bucky rests there for a few seconds, his eyes wide and his pubes tickling Tony’s perineum. He shakes his head, a quick flick side to side to get his dark hair out of his eyes.
“Oh geez,” Bucky says hoarsely. “Tight.”
“Yeah,” Steve says, nodding. “Go for it.”
“No! That’s not—” Tony’s protest turns into groan, because Bucky is moving, filling him up again. Steve makes a pleased sound, and Tony would swear a storm at him except, god, that’s a great fucking cock Bucky has. Nice to meet you, nice to get fucked by you.
Bucky is unfamiliar and foreign, and after a few test thrusts he gets on at taking Tony with free abandon. Where Steve is all controlled strength, Bucky doesn’t seem to care, fucking into Tony with sharp, desperate jerks, as though Tony’s body is the best damned thing he’s ever felt and he’s losing his goddamned mind with it.
Tony’s erection, which had flagged a little, has perked up to fullness. The new rhythm leaves him unsure what to expect, and he can only take it, all of it, and his pleasure is incidental to the actual goal here. It sends an unexpected rush through him, lightning excitement along all nerves that seems too much for a single body to contain.
“Geez,” Bucky gasps. “You get this all the time?”
“All the time,” Steve says. “Whenever you want.”
“Hey,” Tony tries to say, but it comes out as an overwhelmed wheeze.
Distantly, Tony registers Steve locking both of Tony’s wrists in one hand, which leaves his other hand free to hook under Tony’s knee, pulling it up to Tony’s chest. Steve’s opening Tony up for Bucky to use, and Tony flushes hot and angry at that, having half a mind to kick someone, but then maybe Bucky would stop and that, somehow, is worse.
“Like a sleeve,” Bucky says. He buries himself in Tony, over and over and over, while his hands grab at Tony’s hips, holding him still for the pounding. “So hungry for it, what the hell.”
“Excuse me?” Tony snaps.
“Quit whining,” Steve says impatiently. “You’re enjoying it.”
That may be true but that’s not the point. The point is… the point is…
The point is that Bucky’s rolling him onto the side, while Steve helps. Bucky wants to get deeper, so deeper he gets. Tony cries out with it, his world narrowed down to the function of taking what he’s been given.
Tony’s skin draws tight with anticipation for the relief. The violation makes clear that all his body wants is a dick to fill it up, and especially a dick used with confidence. Like here, where Bucky’s passionate thrusts have his shaft rubbing insistently against Tony’s inner walls, which should not be that sensitive but are, as if Tony’s prostate is impossibly oversized and swollen and has changed his inner channels to be not much more than a pleasure center.
There’s just dizzying bliss, which saturates Tony’s brain and body like sunlight.
It doesn’t matter what’s happening. It doesn’t matter, because his body wants it, and he’s going to come. Tony’s body has whored him out, proved him hungry for anyone, and proved Steve right that he could do whatever he wanted to Tony. This is the natural conclusion.
Tony comes screaming, his head tossed back and cock spurting wildly. It’s so good, he’s drunk with it, and he squeezes frantically around Bucky’s speeding-up thrusts to drag it out for as long as he can.
Bucky’s orgasm seems to happen far away. Tony vaguely registers a teeth-rattling slam against his hips, and very loud cursing in a language that doesn’t sound like English. It’s not even worth noticing because Tony’s floating, burned from the inside out on pleasure. Even Bucky’s pulling out doesn’t merit a response.
Hands are on his legs, pushing him. Over onto his stomach and then shifting his hips up, which is a familiar pose, but Tony doesn’t put two and two together until a dick slides into him without preamble.
“Whuh,” Tony says.
“Relax,” Steve says. He has a hand on Tony’s shoulder blades, though Tony wouldn’t be able to push him away even if he had a mind to. “It’s my turn to finish off.”
“You’re kidding me,” Tony grumbles. He gasps when Steve snaps his hips, with no warning whatsoever. “Ah!”
While Steve’s fucking him is familiar there’s an overlay of sensation that is not. There’s slippery fullness in him, which Tony only parses when Steve says, “Geez, Buck, that’s a lot of come.”
“It has been a while,” Bucky says, almost sheepishly.
“It’s fine,” Steve says, while Tony makes a face against the sheets. Tony doesn’t want to think about it but his imagination betrays him the way his body did, conjuring up the mental image of Steve’s cock dripping with Bucky’s come, perhaps even squishing it against Tony’s hole every time he thrusts in.
That’s hot, too. Tony can’t come anymore but a different hum of pleasure coils in his stomach. His freak of a prostate’s not oversensitized and is enjoying the attention, making him shiver every time Steve drives in.
There’s a sound nearby, a soft huffing laugh. Tony opens an eye and there’s Bucky sitting upright nearby, eyebrows up in surprise as he watches Steve work on Tony’s ass.
“Yep,” Steve says, to whatever conversation Tony can’t hear. “He can take it, don’t worry.”
As if anyone’s worried. Tony’s traitor fuckhole is apparently content with being warmed up by Steve, to be used by Bucky, to be used again by Steve. Even the burn feels good, though Tony doesn’t want to clench up just yet. He just lies there and drifts, only grunting whenever Steve’s thrusts speed up into brutal, functional harshness.
The second load of super soldier comes leaks out almost immediately. Tony can feel the mix trickle down his inner thighs even before Steve pulls out.
Then it’s over. Tony just got hit with twin super soldier trucks and survived to tell the tale. He’s exhausted and annoyed, but the exhaustion wins over annoyance, so he decides that he will not be moving in the immediate future and if the dynamic duo have a problem with that, it’s tough.
Then a hand – a metal one, i.e. Bucky – grabs Tony’s ankle, pulling him into another angle along the bed. “Come on,” Tony sighs. “Just let me fucking rest.”
“You don’t need to do anything,” Bucky says, from somewhere between Tony’s splayed legs.
Tony tries to push himself up, just to be contrary, but is startled by the press of Bucky’s mouth on his inner thigh. Tony flops back down, too shocked to do anything but strain to feel the slow and steady brush of lips up to his ass.
The mattress shifts a little, which Tony notices is Steve’s coming to lie down alongside Tony. The sight of his stupid face has Tony immediately throwing a punch, but it’s already difficult to throw a punch when lying prone, let alone when post-orgasmic, so Steve lets it connect with his jaw, the bastard.
“You’re such a shit,” Tony says. Steve nods and comes in, taking Tony’s mouth in a sloppy weird-angle kiss that Tony has half the thought to turn away from, but… he’s tired. It’s easier to just let Steve kiss him, coax his mouth open and plunder the way he’s plundered everything else.
Elsewhere, Bucky has put his hands on Tony’s buttcheeks and spread them. Tony has a good idea what’s coming next, but he still jolts at the first kiss against his hole. He knows he’s filthy but Bucky doesn’t care, or maybe that’s just what Bucky’s into so whatever. All that matters is that Bucky’s licking him, careful brushes of the tip of his tongue against Tony’s tender, used opening.
While Steve takes Tony’s mouth, Bucky takes Tony’s hole; twin mouths that split Tony’s attention. Well, to be honest Tony would rather focus on Bucky’s eating him out, but maybe that’s why Steve’s kissing him at all, because he knows Tony’s distracted and he can do what he wants.
“He’s swollen,” Bucky says. His breath brushes warm over Tony’s opening, and he speaks between firmer, spine-tingling licks across it. “Pretty, though. Eager, even now.”
Steve hums, his breath getting heavier. His hand’s at the back of Tony’s neck, holding him in place for more. “Still wet?”
“Very. Like a woman.” Bucky presses a cool metal finger against the opening, and even Tony’s shocked by how easily it pushes in. “Fuck, that’s beautiful. It wants something inside.”
“Give it your tongue,” Steve says.
“You fucker,” Tony says. Still, he pushes against Bucky’s mouth, groaning when Bucky fits his lips around his hole. Bucky sucks, messy and eager, before pushing his tongue against the furled opening.
It’s filthy delicious, and at once too much and not enough. Tony’s cock twitches hopefully, but Tony doesn’t even want to come again. It’s enough to enjoy Bucky’s loving attention on his abused, fucked out hole. The spit and come-thick kisses are the ends in itself, and made all the better by the sounds Bucky’s making, like he can’t get enough of this, either.
Tony feels himself falling into a delirium. He is made for this pleasure, this body euphoria. His opening’s so sensitive, and is coaxed into further sensitivity by messy swipes of a determined tongue. His only complaint, and he does have one, is when Bucky stops.
“Ngah,” Tony says. He flails a hand behind him. “Mfff?”
“Sorry, can’t—” Bucky exhales shakily, and jolts Tony’s body as he moves. “I need, I need to—”
Tony squeaks when Bucky enters him again. Just the tip, where he pauses awkwardly, though Tony only realizes why when Steve rolls away to grab the lube bottle and toss it to Bucky. Unfortunately, the lube on Bucky’s dick is still cold when it slides into Tony, not that it really matters. Bucky just bottoms out and gasps in relief, while his shaking hands settle on Tony’s hips.
“Wait a sec,” Steve says. There’s rustling, and then Steve’s shoving a pillow underneath Tony, helping to prop his ass up. Tony can’t be bothered to help because it’s a lot. Sure, Steve’s done his fair share of marathon fucking him, but this is so out of the norm that it’s stratospheric.
Tony’s gonna get another load. Bucky’s fucking him again, this time in small, circling motions that have him grinding against Tony’s ass. Tony’s legs are splayed open as though they’ll never close again, and that’s fine somehow.
This shouldn’t even feel that good. But maybe Bucky’s eating him out first primed him, got his hole flushed and wanting. All he knows is that every time Bucky sinks into him it just feels right, the burn and fullness and all. Tony feels more of it now, too, where every drag of Bucky’s smooth shaft is exquisite torture against the nerves of his opening.
Steve’s saying something, but Tony can’t hear it. He only registers another pair of hands touching him, aside from Bucky’s holding onto his hips. Steve’s hands come into the heated space between Tony’s legs, cupping the stretched center of him and keeping him open and steady for Bucky’s use. A glory hole, which has been coaxed into agreeable usage.
Geez, Tony’s such a slut. Sure, he knew that already, but it’s amazing that he can still be surprised by the depths of that truth.
Steve massages around Tony’s opening, while Bucky fucks him. Tony feels himself getting hard again which, funnily enough, is a distraction he doesn’t really want.
“God,” Bucky moans. “Yeah, so good, so good. God, Tony, you’re pulsing around me.”
Steve laughs a little. “You got any come in you left in you, after that last one?”
“Gonna find out,” Bucky says. “Gonna feed him all of it.”
“Fuck,” Tony groans. He’s trembling; wanting and waiting for it. He has some energy to move with Bucky, rocking with him and against the pillow, an idle motion not really in search of relief but just to feel more.
“Oh fuck!” Bucky shouts, sounding surprised at his own orgasm. He pushes forward so hard that Tony’s face is shoved into the sheets. It goes on and on, Bucky’s noises slowly devolving into whimpers as he spills every last drop into Tony’s ass.
Tony breathes a long exhale. Then he frowns, remembering exactly who he’s with, and turns his head. Sure enough Steve, who’s now leaning back to sit on his ankles, is sporting a brand new erection. Tony looks up at Steve, who’s looking back at him.
“You’re not putting that back in me,” Tony says.
“You want me to waste this?” Steve does take his dick in hand, though, and pumps it a few times. “Really? You’ve got one, too, if you haven’t noticed.”
“Yeah, but unlike you and your buddy, I can take care of myself,” Tony says.
“Come on,” Bucky says, hooking his arms under Tony’s armpits and pulling. Tony squawks in indignation, but there’s little he can do when being manhandled into sitting up. He can only sigh as many times as he can, and louder each time, because Steve’s an asshole who’s shimmying over to lie flat on his back, with his cock jutting up like an angry red mast.
“I’m not riding you,” Tony says. He peers over his shoulder to glare. “I’m not riding him.”
“I’ll help,” Bucky says.
“You’re the worst,” Tony groans. He stays as limp and unhelpful as he can while Bucky knee-walks towards Steve, with Tony firmly held in his arms. “Both of you, you’re both the worst. I mean, I knew you’d be, because I have a feeling about these things, and here we are. Why do I even bother about anything?”
His complaints come to naught, because Steve and Bucky are doing that silent team thing again, arranging Tony over Steve’s lap.
“Don’t drop me!” Tony snarls. Thankfully, they listen to him this once, with Bucky carefully positioning Steve’s cock against Tony’s opening before lowering him in increments.
It’s intense. Tony’s so loose he thinks he could take both of them at once, but no fucking way is he saying that out loud and putting the idea in their heads. The fullness comes with a sharper burn, which is just at the knife’s edge of sweet pain. Tony breathes out as he settles solidly on Steve’s lap, resigned to the reality of the world.
“No, I’m serious,” Tony says. “I can’t ride you. My knees are useless.”
“I’m on it,” Bucky says. He lowers himself down, arranging himself over Tony’s right leg, awkward angle be damned. He grabs at Tony’s dick, pushing a thumb along the underneath and up to the head. His clever lips then part, fitting themselves over Tony’s cockhead, which spurts hopefully.
“Oh,” Tony says. He scowls at Bucky, then back up at Steve, who just shrugs.
There’s suckling pressure up front, and fullness pressure in the back. Tony wasn’t lying that his knees are useless, but he feels himself start to rock anyway, compelled into motion by the dual sensation. He digs a hand into Bucky’s hair, grabbing strands and yanking, forcing Bucky to swallow more and more, all the way down to the root.
“Oh fuck.” Tony rolls his hips a little, bringing Steve’s dick up against his prostate. He shudders, breath tight, because his prostate is oversensitive now, and is sending sparks of sharp pleasure all the way through his cock. Bucky starts humming, persuasive and gleeful, because it’s working.
But Tony’s not going to do the work for Steve. He’s not. He glares at Steve to make that point, only to find that Steve… doesn’t seem fussed. Sure, he’s touching his nipples and fucking up into Tony, but said thrusts are very very shallow. He’s effectively lying there, eyes bright and sharp, and Tony realizes that he doesn’t need to do anything because Steve’s already getting off on this.
He's getting off on Tony’s being trapped between them, commandeered to their use and loving it, so much so that Tony’s going to come again. The man with the plan has seen that plan come to fruition, and that’s… hot as well.
“Goddamn it,” Tony hisses. He tightens his grip in Bucky’s hair and lets his body take over, because obviously his body knows best. There’s Steve’s dick, firm and filling, and Bucky’s mouth, hot and wet, and it doesn’t matter that it’s too much.
Tony wants all of it. He wants his dick at the back of Bucky’s throat, and he wants his ass full of Steve’s cock, and he wants the pleasure of both to overlap and build on each other, higher and higher, until Tony’s reaching for that crest again, that crest of bright pleasure that is the pinnacle of everything Tony’s body is capable of.
He’d let them do it again, too. He’d let him fuck him open and sloppy and ruined, and until they’ve plundered every inch inside him, and he won’t thank them anywhere except with his orgasms.
Bucky’s tongue does a thing against the underside of Tony’s dick. Tony chokes, which makes him clench up around Steve, which makes Steve fuck up and forces Tony deeper into Bucky’s mouth, and the bounce goes back and forth goes on and on, wrenching Tony that last narrow distance until he comes wildly.
Tony yells unintelligibly through it. He vaguely hears Bucky choking down below, but that’s not his problem. Tony just pants and sobs through the bliss, which stops being a relief because there’s so much of it, a guy could crazy with it.
Steve’s still a prick, though. Because just as Tony’s starting to come down from the pleasure heights, Steve’s shoving Tony over onto his back, right where all of this started, and pounds into Tony to finish himself off.
Tony doesn’t even really register it. It’s almost as if it’s happening to someone else; someone whose body is pliant as playdough, their knees over Steve’s shoulders and ass under Steve’s hands as Steve rails them. The slap of hip to ass is lewd and loud, though not as loud as the satisfied groan that vibrates out of Steve when he comes.
At least Steve’s done. They’re both done, it seems like.
Through the haze Tony finds himself set down on the bed, a pillow under his head for what little it’ll do. He hears, somewhere far away, when Steve says, “Still the best. Even when it’s fucked out like that.”
“How does it look…” There’s motion somewhere, and cool metal fingers probe at Tony’s hole. Tony’s eyes go wide at the sensation, and fresh come seems to gush out of him onto Bucky’s hand. “That is something,” Bucky says.
“Fuck.” Tony gasps when Bucky’s fingers move deeper, curious. “Oh god.”
“Any time I want?” Bucky says.
Tony cracks open one eye to glare at Bucky and tell him what’s what, but he realizes that Bucky’s not looking at him. Bucky’s looking at Steve, who nods and says, “Yep. Any time you want.”
“Ugh,” Tony grumbles. “Fuck you both.”