Captain America's Vision, Part Five

[Beauxbatons]

“Are you serious?” Cap spluttered, incredulous.
“Yes. You know that I do not lie, Steve Rogers.”
Steve imagined Vision passionlessly recounting the events of the last few hours to Anthony Stark, the billionaire playboy, the sometime superhero—he’d get off on every word, I’m sure—and was simultaneously enraged, embarrassed, and excited by the thought. “So what’s the deal with you and Tony anyway?”
“We share a unique bond—I am a machine striving to be human, and he is a man striving to be a machine. We… understand one another.”
Suddenly, Steve found himself yearning for a similar connection to the synthetic Avenger before him. He shook his head, clearing the alien sensation.
“Well, whatever tickles your pickle,” Steve said dismissively, stuffing his still semi-erect cock back into the borrowed briefs. “I’m going to go take a nap now. Thank you for a lovely afternoon.” He pulled the gym shorts on, noting how the material draped just so, proudly displaying the considerable bulge between his legs as well as highlighting his perfectly rounded buttocks.
“It is I who must thank you, Steve Rogers, for two reasons. First, the data I have gathered this afternoon will be invaluable to my research—“
“Research?” Steve interjected.
“Yes—I am collaborating with Dr. Henry McCoy and Dr. Moira MacTaggert on a study of sexuality in metahumans. Preliminary findings suggest that—“
“Wait—so this was all just some fucking science project?”
“I would not characterize our encounter in that manner. Please allow me to explain further—“
“You don’t have to explain anything, Vision—I get it. Hey, it’s not like this is the first time I’ve been experimented on, you know.”
“I sense that you are becoming angry, Steve Rogers. Please, allow me—“
“Listen, I really have to go now.” Snatching his computer, Steve strode from the room in long, quick strides. Vision stood watching, seemingly impassive—except for the nearly imperceptible glint in the corner of one eye.

In the long corridor outside Vision’s lab, Steve’s eyes met what was perhaps the most unwelcome sight possible at that moment—the tall, lank form of Tony Stark, wearing a gray Armani suit that looked as though it had been slept in for several weeks.
“Hey, Cap!” he said brightly, grinning. “Heading down to the gym for a little workout?”
“Um, no, actually, I just got done with one,” Steve muttered, willing the capillaries in his face not to betray him by filling with blood.
“Well, whatever you’re doing, it’s obviously working,” Tony commented, casting an appraising gaze over Cap’s taut body.
“What’s that supposed to mean? And what the fuck are you looking at?”
“’What the fuck I’m looking at’ is a slab of USDA Prime beefcake,” the entrepreneur replied nonchalantly, now openly looking at Steve’s crotch. “I bet Uncle Sam really wants you.”
“You’re such a pig, Tony,” Steve said disgustedly. “I really don’t have time for this.”
“Hey, have you seen Vision? I’ve been trying to reach him for hours, but his com line’s down.”
“Do I look like Vision’s keeper? Or his fucking receptionist?”
“Hey,” Tony said with a small laugh, throwing his hands up, “it sounds to me like you didn’t get enough of a workout, after all—or maybe just not the right kind,” he added with a lascivious wink.
Stepping forward decisively, Captain America, champion of justice, balled up his fist and planted it in Tony Stark’s eye in one smooth motion, then stepped over the billionaire as he slumped to the floor.
“Hey!” Tony called out to the retreating Cap, “what the hell was that for?”

 

[Beauxbatons]

Steve Rogers threw himself down on his bed, heaving a deep sigh. He shook his head, as if the physical action would calm the chaotic swirl in his mind, sort the wildly careening thoughts into some semblance of order. He was mortified that he had lost control of himself and hit Tony Stark—a man that, infuriating as he could be, Steve considered a good friend. He was unused to this barrage of emotions—he was feeling hurt, confused, angry, and, perhaps most of all, scared—of the depth of feeling that Vision (not even a real fucking man, for Christ’s sake) elicited in him.
“What am I going to do?” he said to no one, sighing deeply. He stared for long minutes at the nondescript ceiling, willing the cacophonous babble in his brain, the unfamiliar tightness in his chest, to subside, hoping that the temporary respite of sleep would provide some clarity.

Some time later—minutes, hours, days, he didn’t know—Steve awoke to a gentle but insistent tapping on his door.
“Oh, Christ, shut that knocking up and come in already,” he groaned, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. Amazingly, his cock was at full mast, and he instantly became aware of it, straining for all its worth against the confining fabric of Dr. Pym’s forgotten clothes.
The door slid open, but the dark, slender figure on the other side only stood there pensively, not daring, it seemed, to enter.
“Tony?” Steve said blearily. “I sure didn’t expect to see you any time soon.”
“I need to talk to you, Steve,” Tony replied, confident tone curiously missing, “but… I can come back later, if this isn’t, er, a good time.”
“Wha—“ Cap half-said, following the other’s eyes. “Oh, you mean this fucking thing,” he continued, waving dismissively at his rigid sex. “Hell, if I wait for it to go down before I can have a conversation, I may never speak to anyone again.” He sat up on the bed, making no effort to conceal his aroused state. “Please, come in.”
Quietly, Tony closed the door and eased himself into a chair near the bed. “I came by to apologize—“
“Are you fucking crazy? What are you apologizing to me for?”
The dark-haired man cringed slightly at this outburst, and Steve was instantly sorry for the outburst. I'm a grade-A asshole, is what I am.
“I know that my behavior is generally somewhat less than professional,” Tony replied diffidently. “Obviously, my lewd comments and suggestions really bother you, and yesterday you finally had enough. It was wrong of me to push you so far, and I deserved this,” he continued, waving at the purple-and-yellow mass that his left eye had become.”
“No, no,” Cap sighed, shaking his head. “That had nothing to do with you at all. As cliché as it is… well, I just had a lot on my mind, and you presented a convenient target. Even if I was bothered by your comments, though—which I never have been—it still doesn’t justify me hitting you. I am the one who needs to apologize.”
“Really? You’re…okay…with…?”
“Yeah. In fact,” Steve said with a grin, “I kind of like how you objectify me. If you tell anyone I said that, though…” he added with a mock growl, letting the threat dangle.
“So, those things on your mind… care to talk about them?”
“No,” Steve said flatly. “Thank you for asking though,” he amended in a softer tone. “Listen, I don’t expect you to forgive me, but… is there any way I can make that shiner up to you?”
“Well,” Tony replied with a mischievous twinkle in his good eye, “you could kiss it and make it better.”
Without hesitating, Steve sprang from the bed and gingerly placed his full lips on Tony’s swollen left eye.
“That wasn’t exactly the ‘it’ I had in mind, Mr. Rogers,” the billionaire purred suggestively.
Well, Cap thought, I suppose I do owe him one. Acting on a hunch that Tony ‘liked it rough,’ Steve tore the other man’s pants off with reckless abandon, revealing an impossibly thick, dark sex rising from a tangle of glossy jet-black hair.
“Oh, Captain, my Captain,” Tony said breathlessly, causing Steve to have a momentary flashback to yesterday’s events, when the synthetic Vision had uttered the same words (a quote?) and in much the same way.
“No,” Steve replied, shaking his head, “don’t speak. Just keep your arms and hands inside the car at all times, sit back, and enjoy the ride.” Falling to his knees, Steve took in the other man’s spicy-sweet aroma, was maddened by it, and fell upon the playboy’s well-traveled cock, which was only slightly shorter in length than Steve’s but even more thick, like a starving man at a buffet.
He went to work first with lips and teeth and tongue on the huge head, one hand squeezing the tremendous shaft while the other gently cupped Tony’s enormous balls. Steve lost himself in the pure carnal pleasure, relishing the feel of Tony’s organ in his mouth, the huge size of it. Though he would never admit it, even to himself, Steve had often wondered—fantasized about—what it would be like to pleasure this tree-trunk of a cock. Even as he gleefully consumed the other man’s organ, though, Steve thought about his own tortured cock, begging for release, or at least release from the cotton prison encasing it. The growing wet spot spreading from the tip of his desperately hard sex told him that he would need to deal with it soon. Soon, but not now.
Tony began to moan and writhe, threatening to slip out of the chair altogether. Roughly, Steve forced the other man’s hips back down, holding him in place, while he took the sometime Avenger’s entire length down his throat. Moving now fast, now slowly, Steve enveloped Tony until he could hold his breath no longer. Gasping, he stroked the saliva-slick cock while struggling to fill his lungs with air.
“My God,” Tony moaned appreciatively, “that’s—“
“Shh,” Steve hissed, then plunged back onto the other’s sex with renewed vigor.
“Oh, shit, I’m gonna come,” Tony cried, tapping Steve’s shoulder. Clearly, he was signaling Steve to release him.
Steve shook his head ever so slightly, then clamped down upon the cock before him.
“Oh, god, I can’t hold it, I can’t, I—oh!”
Tony’s seed flooded Steve’s mouth, a torrent that tasted vaguely of honey and clover as well as salt, until it dribbled down his chin.
Finally releasing the spent cock, Captain America sat back against the bed, wiping his mouth and sighing. “I don’t mean to be an ungracious host, but I think I’d like to be alone now.”
“But,” Tony stammered, “you’re obviously in a pretty bad way.” He gestured at the throbbing sex clearly outlined by the thin gym shorts, and the obvious and still-growing stain of pre-come. “I would be happy to—“
“No,” Steve said wistfully. “Call it a… penance. A punishment for what I did to you.” A thought skittered across his consciousness before he ruthlessly knocked it aside: Do I mean for hitting Tony, or for sucking his cock? “I’ll just have to live with this.”
“If you’re sure, then…” Tony stepped into his rumpled pants—Steve noticed that, predictably, he was wearing no underwear—and headed for the door. Standing in the doorway, he turned back, asking “A raincheck, perhaps?”
“That would be lovely.”
As soon as the Tony had left, a wave of guilt crashed over Steve Rogers. Shaking his head angrily, he pushed the feeling aside, climbing back on to his bed. Ignoring everything but his need for release, Steve hooked his thumbs into the waistband of the pilfered briefs and shorts and pushed them down, his engorged sex popping free jubilantly.
One hand stroking his tormented organ and the other playing with the nipples beneath the taut t-shirt he still wore, Steve closed his eyes, reminiscing about the man who had just left his room, about the huge cock that smelled of exotic spices and tasted of honey and radiated heat like an oven. As he relived the experience with Tony Stark, though, pumping his throbbing cock faster and faster, images of Vision, of their intense encounter the day before, kept intruding, superimposing themselves upon the other thoughts. When Steve finally achieved the release he so desperately needed, it was bittersweet, incomplete somehow, and left him sobbing quietly into his pillow.

 

[ConnerM360]

God you are such a good writer. The story has so much depth.

 

[Beauxbatons]

God you are such a good writer. The story has so much depth.

I really appreciate that...

So, any requests for where to go from here?

 

[B_socalstud89]

Thor and Steve and Tony, maybe throw in the hulk and vision on wolvwerin spider man , luke cage and beast and wonder man for an all out orgy?

 

[B_socalstud89]

jk. But I think Carol Danvers would be a nice twist, or even some kinky hank pym growing and shrinkig action

 

[Beauxbatons]

jk. But I think Carol Danvers would be a nice twist, or even some kinky hank pym growing and shrinkig action

Actually, I think your first suggestion has possibilities... I've never written anything with that many characters in play at once, but I think it would be worth a shot...

 

[catman]

I always wondered why Hulks pants seemed to stay on with everything else grew to enourmous 'size'...maybe the rage is from being 'underwhelming'?

I also like the 'shrinking/growing' Hank Pym idea(s)....