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Tony is trembling between them, skin slick with sweat, flesh hot to the touch. His eyes are closed, though his lashes are wet – with tears, but not with sadness. It's from the onslaught to his senses, the overstimulation. He's got his lower lip tucked between his teeth, a low keening sound coming from his throat.
“You're doing so good, baby,” Bucky murmurs against his collar bone, flesh hand carded gently through Tony's hair, metal hand wrapped firmly around his cock.
Steve pushes his hips up again, gently, just nudging at Tony's prostate while Tony helplessly straddles his legs. Steve is kneeling on the bed, big, strong hands on Tony's hips, holding him up. Holding him still.
Tony lost the ability to speak about eight minutes ago, really. Steve had made a mental note because he'd been proud – he's beaten Bucky's record for getting Tony so sexually stimulated that he's lost language. It only took him 37 minutes, as opposed to Bucky's previous record of 43.
He'll pay for it later, he's sure. But for now, he's just going to bask in it, gently sliding his cock in and out of Tony's tight, slick heat.
Tony moans, and it's a guttural, torn sound. Bucky leans forward and slots their mouths together, sucking at Tony's abused lower lip to soothe it. Tony's hand clenches over Steve's on his hip. His other hand is fisted around Bucky's cock, but he's not stroking – he doesn't seem to have the wherewithal to do more than make a tunnel of his hand, but Bucky is pushing into his fist anyway.
Bucky drags his mouth away and grins over Tony's shoulder at Steve, which is when Steve realizes Tony is moaning and trying to writhe back against him. He'd been distracted, watching their kiss, and stopped moving his hips.
He apologizes with action instead of words, thrusting up with a little more force, making sure to hit the sensitive gland that made Tony's whole body twitch with pleasure.
“Should we let him come?” Bucky asks Steve, though his eyes are watching Tony's face for a reaction. Tony cries out, lips coming together as he tries to form a word.
“I dunno, Buck,” Steve says, his voice low. He bites at Tony's shoulder blade. “He's not saying anything. Maybe he doesn't want to come yet.”
Tony's lips are still moving, trying to speak. “P – p – p,” is as far as he can get, and Steve scrapes blunt nails down his spine, tearing another moan from his throat instead of further attempts at words.
Not that Tony's body isn't communicating for him. Steve can tell by the clenching, fluttering heat of Tony's slick channel around his cock that Tony is close to orgasm. The steady leaking from the head of his hard, dark cock in Bucky's fist is another obvious sign.
“What do you think, Buck?” he groans, hips canting more seriously.
“I don't think he's ready,” Bucky grins, and Tony moans almost forlornly – almost, because Steve can tell by the way his cock bounces that making him wait for it is exactly what Tony needed tonight.
“Gotta tell ya,” Bucky says, taking Tony's hand from his erection and sucking two of his fingers into his mouth. He releases them with a wet sound. “I'm feelin' maybe it's a little unfair you're getting to fuck him, and I gotta make do with a hand job over here.”
Steve chuckles low in his throat. “Thinking you wanna get your dick sucked?” He doesn't wait for an answer, and arches an eyebrow suggestively, hips not losing their rhythm as he pushes up on his knees, the two of them working in tandem to bring Tony to all fours.
Tony leans forward, mouth open, face flushed, without hesitation. His soft, pink lips stretch wide over Bucky's cock, and Bucky can't stop his head from dropping forward onto his chest.
“That's it, baby,” Bucky says, his artificial left hand tracing fingertips along Tony's working jaw.
“He's so perfect like that,” Steve says, hands running up and down Tony's sides while he thrusts gently forward. “He can't talk, but he can take you all the way in.”
“You gonna let him come soon?”
Steve grins at Bucky, eyes fluttering, betraying how Tony gripping his cock affects him. “I dunno Buck,” he says. “I could do this all day.”
Bucky laughs low in his throat, and Steve gives one harder thrust, using his thumbs to spread Tony's cheeks and give himself a good look at his cock disappearing into Tony's body.
Tony moans, and Bucky hisses at the sensation. Steve lets his thumb drag gently across the stretched rim of Tony's opening, while his cock moves in and out, and groans at how Tony clenches around him.
He glances up from the view, and sees Bucky's hips moving, stuttering his cock in and out of Tony's mouth in a haphazard, rhythmless movement.
“Jesus, Buck, you look so gorgeous like that. You gonna come in his mouth for me?” Steve's hands clench on Tony's hips while he watches Bucky thrust, one hand threaded through Tony's hair and the other tracing his stretched, wet lips.
Tony moans, and Bucky thrusts again, again, a howl tearing its way out of his throat as he pushes forward, but Tony just takes it, swallowing around the hard, pulsing cock in his mouth, a little bit of salty fluid escaping, dripping down his chin as Bucky gracefully flops back on the bed, panting.
“P – Please, Jesus, Steve, please,” Tony moans, finally managing to find his voice again, and the broken, pleading sound, the trembling shoulders, the hands fisted in the sheets, white-knuckled, are enough for Steve to thrust in earnest, not just once to throw Tony off balance, but a targeted, rhythmic pistoning, designed to batter against Tony's prostate with every thrust, deep and hot and tight.
“You're gonna come on my cock, Tony.” Steve words it as a command, because the command will give him the gasp, the thrust back against him, and the clenching of that tight channel that he craves, and he watches as Bucky dives forward, under Tony, and Steve assumes he's wrapped his hot mouth around Tony's cock and sucked him in deep because Tony is shaking apart around him, under him, crying out and clamping down on his cock as the orgasm is wrung out of his body, almost forced out of him.
Steve's own vision goes white as his balls draw tight, the burn and tingle low in his belly making the muscles of his thighs contract, hips driving forward, pumping and emptying himself into Tony's stretched, slick hole.
When it's over, Steve takes a few moments to come back to himself before he flops to the side, pulling Tony with him. Bucky manages to turn himself around, so his nose is buried against Tony's throat, while Tony tries to catch his breath.
“I wanna be in the middle tomorrow,” Bucky mumbles, already being dragged down into the sleep of the satisfied.
Tony gives a breathless laugh, a clumsy hand patting at Bucky's shoulder in what Steve assumes is agreement.
Steve leans up, across Tony's back, and presses a kiss to Bucky's jaw, lingering long enough for Bucky to turn his face up enough for a proper kiss.
Tony moans, turning his face into the pillow. “Jesus, there is no hope of me getting it up in the next hour, no fair,” he says, his voice a low rasp. “I can't watch you guys make out.”
Steve chuckles and flops back, nuzzling against the back of Tony's neck.
“Go to sleep,” he says.
“I'm tryin', but you boys won't shut up,” Bucky groans, and Tony laughs.
Steve sighs, trying to sound put-upon but knowing he really just sounds happy.
It's okay. He is happy.