Lost Security Videos of the SHIELD Helicarrier

by Nix
(crimsonquills AT gmail DOT com)

Steve slumped over Tony on the narrow couch and laughed, a little breathlessly. "I can't believe you just did that!"

"We just did that," Tony said smugly, running a hand down Steve's naked back to stroke his ass. Okay, so they'd just finished. It was a fantastic ass.

"All right, then I can't believe you just convinced me to do that," Steve amended.

"Why? You've always been pretty easy to convince in the past."

Steve propped himself up again, an incredulous look on his face as he met Tony's gaze. "We're on the Helicarrier! In..." he paused and looked around. "Whose office is this anyway?"

"Some psychologist," Tony said. "It was empty. This is all I ask for."

Snorting a laugh, Steve levered himself onto his feet and stretched languorously. Tony pushed himself upright on the couch and leaned back into it, running his eyes over Steve's body. Acres and acres and it's all mine! Tony thought, grinning.

Steve caught sight of the grin and braced his hands on his hips. It was a very Captain America pose. Somehow the fact that he was naked just made it hotter. "You're looking very smug. You promised me you turned the cameras off."

Tony raised his hands. "I swear, SHIELD has no record of the events of the past half hour." Tony, on the other hand, had a nice little video file tucked away in one of his secure servers.

Steve eyed him for a long moment before nodding in satisfaction. "Good." He started collecting clothing from around the room.

Suddenly, a little alarm went off in the back of Tony's brain. "Um. Steve?"

"What's up?" Steve asked, tossing Tony's shirt towards him.

"I think the owner of this office is on her way back."

Steve spun around so fast Tony wondered if he'd gotten carpet burn on the bottoms of his feet. "What?"

Tony was already on his feet, shoving his arms into the sleeves of the shirt and fumbling with the buttons. "We've got three minutes. Maybe."

"Did you lock the door?" Steve asked, struggling to pull on his tight leather uniform top as he tossed clothes at Tony.

"Of course I did. But it's her office, she's bound to have a key." Tony slid into his pants and sat down again to pull on his socks. Why had he bothered to take the damn things off? Looking up to locate his shoes, Tony had to bite back a laugh. Dressed only in his uniform top and a pair of snug white briefs, cowl pushed back behind his head, Captain America was down on his knees, looking under the office's desk.

"Tony!" Steve snapped frantically. "Where did I put my pants?"

Tony couldn't help it: he broke down laughing.

"You are not helping!" Steve crawled across the floor and peered under the couch Tony was sitting on. Tony was just able to hear a triumphant cry above his own laughter. At least, until he got to watch Steve attempt to pull skintight leather up over skin still slightly damp with sweat. After that he was laughing too hard to hear anything.

Tears of mirth pricked Tony's eyes. "Steve," Tony gasped out as he finally got the waistband up and started on the belt. "She's at the door."

"Crap!" Steve hissed. He yanked the fly up with a wince and started hopping around on one foot as he yanked his boots on.

By the time the door swung open on a bewildered SHIELD psychologist, Tony was clutching his stomach he was laughing so hard and Steve was completely put together, not a hair out of place as he glared at Tony.

It was quite possible he was never getting laid again, but Tony thought it might actually be worth it.