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Steve stood staring out at the crowd.
The guards were jeering, baying for his blood, but he could hardly hear it, the noise fading into nothing. Instead he felt the silence coming from the commoners in the crowd, people like him, forced to watch the spectacle even as they supported his rebellion.
He stared up at the balcony in defiance, not wanting to show anything less than disdain in the face of this.
He had broken the law, willingly and wilfully. He knew the punishment, and if he had his time over, he’d make all the same choices, over and over again.
Sheriff Stane stared down at him, lip curled in victory. They both knew what this would bring, but Steve wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
He thought of the others, brave men and women both, who he had fought alongside. He had no right to do any less than them, and they would stand where he did any day for the sake of the people.
He raised his chin.
If he had to die, then he would die standing up for what’s right.
And for him.
Steve had never expected to take up with an outlaw.
Really, no matter what Bucky said, even he knew that was foolish.
But when the Sheriff had raised the taxes in the absence of King Howard, off fighting some war across the sea, there hadn’t been much of a choice other than to push back. What else could they do? Starve?
Which was exactly what had led to his current predicament.
He shifted his feet trying to relieve the stiffness in his back. He hated the stocks. They were never kind, but he knew he only got them because the guards pitied him. Were he Buck’s build, he’d be flogged.
“Well, who did you upset to get left out here like this?”
The words were familiar in their mockery, but the voice was not. Steve tried to tip his head to see but his movement was too restrained. “Excuse me?”
A man stepped out in front of him, with just a hint of a flourish. He wore an iron mask, which Steve thought should scare him, but instead he just felt himself staring in appreciation at its workmanship. He also had a bow strapped across his back, and a glint in his warm, brown eyes. “It seems to me they don’t lock innocent citizens up for nothing. So what was it? Blasphemy? Drunkenness? Letchery?”
Steve scowled. That was a laugh. Bad enough he was stuck here without whatever this was. “Defying the tax man.”
“Ah,” the man replied, sucking air through his teeth. “A sin worse than murder in the eyes of the sheriff no doubt. You’re lucky they’ve just left you like this.”
Steve raised an eyebrow at him. “Yes, luck is what I think of when I consider my situation. Thank you, I just couldn’t think of the word.”
“You’re welcome.” He looked off in the distance behind Steve. “Believe me when I say I would love to stay and talk to you all day, but unfortunately I feel it is of some urgency that we free you so you can take cover.”
Steve blinked at him. “What?”
“I’m sure you’d rather serve your full punishment like the upstanding member of the Kingdom you are, but soon a group of the Sheriff’s men are going to be charging in here where they will meet a rather unfortunate ambush, and I worry you may be right in the path of that particular storm.”
He moved out of Steve’s eye line and Steve could hear the clinking of metal. “And really, I’m not sure what kind of man I would be if I let such a shapely behind get trampled by some panicked noble horse.”
Steve felt himself flush. What was that supposed to mean?
There was a final clunk! And the padlock swung free. The bar was lifted and Steve straightened up, his back cracking in protest. He looked at the man. “Thank you—?”
“They call me Iron Man, which is as good a name as any I suppose.”
Iron Man. Steve had heard whispers of him. The outlaw known far and wide, robbing the rich and returning the money to the poor in protest of the Sheriff’s mandate. He supposed it should have been obvious given his mask, but Steve had thought he was just a story. A tale of wish fulfilment for the depressed masses.
“You— how—“
“No time for questions I’m afraid,” Iron Man said, giving him a shove. Now Steve could hear the thunder of hoofbeats in the distance. “I assume one of these houses are yours, hmm? Go there, and keep your head down.”
“But—“
“Now!”
Steve followed the order, though not without a little irritation. Who was this man to tell him what to do?
He ran to the house he and Bucky shared, finding his friend tending the fireplace. “Steve? I thought you were stuck till sunset?”
Steve went to the window, looking out into the village square. “I got help.”
He could hear Bucky brushing the wood dust from his trousers, as he stood, coming to join Steve. “What are you looking at?”
No sooner had the words left Bucky’s mouth than a half a dozen of the Sheriff’s men appeared next to the well in the middle. God, he could see Sitwell at the front, that worm of a man, his loyalty easily bought for the highest price. He used to be from their village before he was swept into the Sheriff’s guards, and now he’d throw his own grandmother into jail if she was short a few coins.
“Dammit,” Bucky swore next to him. “How are they back already? We’ve not got anything to give them.”
“I think we might be okay,” Steve said, as he watched two green figures dart onto the roof of the house opposite.
Sitwell pointed with his sword. “Start at the end. Hit every household. His lordship wants everything he’s owed.” The men followed their captain’s orders spreading out, chests at the ready to carry their bounty.
Steve watched intently as they fanned out, Sitwell looking on with approval. As two soldiers approached the first house on their lane, they abruptly disappeared.
Steve blinked. They had been just there. What in the world—
Sitwell was clearly of the same mind. “Hey, you men! Where did you shirk off to?”
There was no answer. Steve stepped out onto the stoop, a quick glance telling him he wasn’t alone in his curiousity.
There was another whoosh, almost like the sound of fabric swishing through the air, and Steve looked to see that the two other men who had been approaching the other end of the plain were just gone.
Sitwell frowned, but there was an edge of fear there too. “Answer me! Where—“
A sharp whistle, and an arrow hit the ground beneath his feet.
He balked, eyes flicking up to the rooftop. Steve followed his gaze, and there he stood.
The Iron Man. His bow ready, another arrow notched. “I think the Sheriff has more than enough to fill his coffers, don’t you?”
Sitwell took a step back in surprise. He pointed at the roof. “That’s him! Get him! Get him!”
Iron Man ran along the roof tops, worn leather boots darting along the thatching as the guards gave chase. They fired up at him, but he seemed to dodge between them without any problem at all.
Their attention divided, Steve noticed a young boy with brown hair dart to the horses, carefully removing the sacks and chests of what had to be already collected taxes. He was nimble, almost spider-like in his delicacy, and soon he was off with his bounty, handing it to a darker-skinned man who remained almost out of sight at the edge of the village boundary. Steve watched in interest as they escaped, leaving the distracting chaos behind.
He turned back, seeing the Iron Man lead them on a merry chase as he made his way to the constable’s house near the entrance. The constable himself was nowhere to be seen, and Steve knew it was for the sake of plausible deniability. Not even the constable liked the sheriff. The Iron Man jumped off the rooftop onto a horse that appeared from behind the house, along with several of his men, and he waved before digging in his heels, sending the horse off at speed.
“Bastard!” Sitwell shouted, clambering atop his own, and giving chase. He gained on them quickly, and Steve’s heart was in his throat as the man took a crossbow from his saddle, raising it to fire.
Steve ran forward, picking up a rock and hurling it without really thinking whether he should. He just knew that he didn’t want to see the Iron Man harmed. The stone flew through the air and struck Sitwell’s helmet with a long clang.
It wasn’t enough to do much damage, but the sound made the Iron Man turn, and the strike made Sitwell pull up and hesitate. The outlaw drew back an arrow and sent it sailing right into the man’s chest, knocking him from his horse.
He was far away, but somehow his eyes seemed to lock onto Steve’s, and he could’ve sworn he saw the man wink.
Then he and his band of men were gone, escaping on horseback, as the rest of Sitwell’s men gave chase.
“Holy shit,” Bucky said, and Steve turned to see him standing behind him. “Was that—?”
Steve couldn’t help the smile. “I think it was.”
Steve had a very busy and fulfilling life, and as such, hadn’t thought much about the outlaw since their meeting.
Perhaps that was a lie. In that he had thought about him nearly every hour since.
What sort of man was he? Was he as brave and generous as the rumours said? Or was he simply some troublemaker out for attention and wealth?
“Halt! Who goes there?”
Steve froze. Bucky had told him to stay away from the forest and forget all about the guy but he’d been drawn here. If he got skewered now, he’d never live it down.
“A friend. I’m looking for the Iron Man.”
“Is that so?” The voice seemed to change direction, first to his left, then above, His eyes scanned the trees. Steve’s eyes flicked to the boughs, and there he was. Sprawled on his back on a branch, one long leg pulled up as if to accentuate his relaxed pose.
“Just what do we have here? A little lamb lost in the—AHH!”
Steve watched, wide-eyed, as the Iron Man leaned too far forward on the branch and slipped off, tumbling into the undergrowth. “Uhhh, are you okay?”
The Iron Man popped up, brushing leaves from his cloak. “Fine, fine, slight miscalculation, nothing to worry about.” He held out his bow, pointing it at Steve. “What brings such a pretty little thing to our humble forest, hmm?”
Steve felt his cheeks get hot. Why did this man insist on making such jokes? “I came to thank you for what you did for our village.”
“Oh really?” The man leaned up against the trunk, voice silky smooth, the eyes behind the mask looking him up and down. “And just what form does that gratitude take exactly?”
Steve fought back the flush this time. He opened up the small sack, showing him the contents. “Two loaves of bread, a few apples, and one small cake.”
The man’s demeanour changed immediately. “Oh that’s perfect, we haven’t had bread in weeks!” His hands made little ‘give me’ motions that Steve couldn’t help but find a little charming. Steve closed the opening with the tie and tossed it to him carefully.
“It’s not a lot, but I’m sure you understand it’s as much as we can give right now.”
The man nodded. “Of course. And we appreciate anything we receive. While the Sheriff governs these lands, we are all of us at his mercy.”
Steve sighed. “One day the King will return. Things will be different then.” It was a mantra oft repeated, though with no clear end in sight. He’d been gone a good four years, and there was no word of peace.
“They will.” It was clear the man truly believed it, his voice firm. Steve found his unfaltering belief a breath of fresh air amongst so much doubt and anger of his fellow subjects.
“I should go,” Steve said, all too aware that being found in the forest with this man was risky. “But thank you again.”
“Safe travels—?”
“Steven Rogers. Steve.”
“Steve.” His name sounded right on the man’s tongue somehow. “Safe travels, Steve. I’m sure our paths will cross again.” Then he melted into the forest, gone from Steve’s sight.
Steve smiled the whole walk home.
“The well is broken.”
Rumlow looked at him unimpressed over his large wooden desk. “What?”
“The well. The village relies on it for water and the piece that allows us to draw from it is broken. It needs to be fixed.” Steve stared the man down. “We can’t get what we need if there is no way to draw the water. It’s too deep.”
Rumlow waved a bored hand. “I hear your request and will ask my men to see to it.”
Oh sure. He would ask his men, and months from now they would still be trying to draw by hand. Just like every time they made a request.
“No, it needs to be now,” Steve pushed, trying to keep his tone even. He saw movement out of the corner of his eye, as a woman with red hair swept into the room. He didn’t recognise her so she had to be a visiting noble. “We have vulnerable people and children who need water. Many will get sick without access to it.”
“You dare to tell me what to do?” Rumlow asked, and Steve felt his chest clench in frustration. Talking with the man was always a gamble, his mood ever-changing. The woman took a seat in the corner, looking on in interest. “Do I not do enough for you already? Where is the appreciation?”
Steve had miscalculated somewhere. Rumlow was more irritable today than usual. “If we could just—“
It was one step too far, clearly. The man, for all his flaws, was usually willing to have some back and forth when they came to him. Steve hated him, but he was the only one who ever got anywhere with him, which was why he was always sent. But not today apparently.
Rumlow’s face turned stormy. “Perhaps I should simply have you whipped rather than have my men exert themselves for a few peasants.”
Shit. Steve wasn’t sure how to handle this. Perhaps he could try to escape?
Suddenly, the red-haired woman moved closer to them, resting on the edge of Rumlow’s desk. “Come now, my lord. Surely you have better things to do than beat the unfortunate? I do so respect men who can show a little mercy.”
Her voice was soft and a little playful, and he saw the way Rumlow straightened unconsciously. Ah, that was the reason for his mood. A beautiful woman to impress. “You think I should be kind?”
The woman reached out, sweeping some of his dark hair behind his ear. “What would it hurt?” She fluttered long eyelashes. “We have to get ready for dinner with the Sheriff this evening. I’d hate to have to tell him you made us late because you were wasting your time with this.” A little hurtful, but Steve wasn’t going to test his luck by complaining. “You have been charged with showing me a good time, have you not? I’m sure a ride on one of your fine steeds would be more impressive than this?”
Rumlow looked suitably flattered at the mention of his horses, and nodded. “Of course, my lady. I'm sorry to have subjected you to this. I’m being a poor host.”
“Not at all.”
Rumlow turned back to Steve, a glint in his eye. “It’s your lucky day, Rogers. Thank the lady for staying my hand.”
Steve looked over at the woman, who raised an eyebrow. Her lips were quirked ever so slightly. Was she amused by his mistreatment?
He wanted to simply glare and refuse, but regardless of her intent, she had saved him a potentially deadly punishment. “Thank you, my lady.”
She nodded graciously.
She took her leave, Rumlow promising to meet her at the stables, before he turned back, looking at Steve. “If I am to be robbed of more interesting sport, I suppose the usual will just have to do.”
“This is becoming a habit.”
Steve rolled his eyes. The sound of the familiar voice was both a relief and a humiliation.
“What was it this time?”
Steve gave one big sigh. “Our well is broken, and I dared to ask him to do his job as lord of the land.” It was more humiliating here, in the busy courtyard of Rumlow's house than in his own village.
“My, my, you do have a penchant for stupidity, don’t you?”
Steve kept staring forward, ignoring the discomfort of the stocks. “It’s been said.” He bit his lip. “More than once. But what am I supposed to do when the village can’t get water? The old ones can’t carry it back from the river, it’s too far. All I did was remind him he has a duty.”
The Iron Man stepped in front of him, eyes dancing with amusement behind the mask. “You know, people have been killed for less. Makes me think this Rumlow just likes seeing you bent over.”
Steve’s face was bright red, he knew it. “Excuse me?” He asked, glaring at the man.
“Oh, don’t be embarrassed.” He dipped down to Steve’s height so he could see him better. “I’m rather fond of it as well.” Steve spluttered indignantly. “The difference is, I prefer it when it’s entirely enthusiastic. So, why don’t I just-“ He reached up and there was a familiar clicking noise, and then Steve was free.
He was tugged into the alley between two buildings, out of sight of peering eyes. His stomach was all a flutter.
Steve looked at the other man. “It seems you’ve saved me again.”
The Iron Man gave him a long look. “And what will you give me this time?” A smile was evident in his voice, a clear tease. “A fish perhaps? Or indeed, a nice bag of potatoes?” Steve was surprised by just how much the man’s tone seemed to stir him.
Steve swallowed back his nerves. He’d never had much luck in the realms of romance or affection, never expected to, but here was a chance. If he was rebuffed, no one ever had to know. What Outlaw would brag about such a thing?
“I thought perhaps, a kiss?”
The Iron Man seemed taken aback at this. “Really?”
Steve reached up, carefully, slowly, and slid the mask up just enough to reveal full lips and a dark moustache and beard. The outlaw seemed frozen beneath his hands, but Steve was not deterred. He leaned in, pressing their lips together. They were warm, a little chapped from riding around in the sun all day, and Steve relished the heat it sent through him.
He pulled away sooner than he liked, tugging the mask back down and taking a step back. “Thank you.”
The Iron Man cleared his throat, seemingly unsure what to say. “I’m—that is—“ He swallowed and tried again. “I’m always happy to receive tokens of appreciation from the people I serve.”
Steve bit back a smile. It was clear the man was not quite the unflappable dashing criminal he pretended to be. “I’m glad to hear it.”
The Iron Man looked around, checking the coast was clear, before he took Steve’s hand, dipped down to press the cool metal of the mask to it in a pantomime of a kiss. “Until next time.” Then he took off down the alley and was gone.
The next day, Steve walked out to the well without much hope.
He had a bucket with some rope, but with the winch broken he’d struggle to pull anything up. But they needed some, so he had to try.
Except when he arrived at the well, he came to a surprised stop.
Because the winch was repaired. And, improved.
Instead of the simple rope, there was some sort of mechanism built above it. One attached to a handle.
Steve walked over, inspecting it. It was more advanced than the previous system that was for sure.
He found a hook that he could attach the bucket to, and then carefully reached out to grasp the handle. It was easy to turn, and he watched as the bucket drifted down the hole easily, before dipping into the water. As he reversed his cranking, he found it was fairly easy. None of the usual strain though it still required a little strength. It was incredible.
He laughed in disbelief.
Had Rumlow done this?
Why? And how, even? This required some decent metal work, and Samuel the blacksmith was the only one he could imagine making it. He looked underneath the flat part of the handle and sure enough, there was Samuel’s mark. He had no love for the Sheriff or Rumlow, especially after they’d shafted him on money owed for their weapons and armour. He couldn’t imagine he’d take him up on such a specific and last minute request.
He was just musing on when he could next get to town to ask, when he noticed a scrap of parchment stuffed into a gap in the metal.
He pulled it out curiously. Unfolding it, he couldn’t help the smile that spread over his face.
Drawn in charcoal was a little bow and arrow, dark against the light hew of the page.
Somehow, Steve knew it had been done for him.
Tucking it away safely, he grabbed his water bucket and began the short walk back home.
He couldn’t wait to tell everyone the good news.
“The stew and a mug of ale, please.”
Ordinarily, Steve didn’t have the coin for the tavern on his visits to town.
He and Bucky would manage to scrape together a little from time to time, but for the most part avoided it, instead drinking the ale brewed by Erskine in the next village over.
But with the bounty returned to the village, he had some to spare, so when his stomach had grumbled during his trip to market, he had opted to treat himself to a bowl of the meaty stew he could smell cooking before he made the walk home.
He had just finished it, mopping up the last of the gravy with a hunk of bread, when he realised the voices that had been a quiet murmur when he sat down had gotten louder as more ale had been poured.
“He’s a damn menace!”
“Who?”
Steve leaned back a little, unashamed of his eavesdropping. A little guy with a penchant for getting beaten up could always use more information.
“The Iron Man! Robbing our convoys, taking the Sheriff’s tribute, and our ale provisions! I can’t believe I have to spend all my coin here just to enjoy a tipple.”
Steve hid a smile at that. He had no doubt the Iron Man’s band of men would be pretty merry on stolen ale.
“Well, I heard he might be taken care of by tomorrow.”
Steve’s ears pricked up, trying not to make it obvious as he leaned a little closer.
“What do you mean?”
“Rumlow’s gone and staged an ambush. He spread a rumour about taxes coming from the North, and when he goes for it, there’s a bunch of us waiting.” The guard grinned malevolently. “If he’s lucky they’ll kill him in the attempt. He won’t like it if he gets dragged back here to the Sheriff.”
The hearty stew now felt like a lump in Steve’s belly. He stood, doing his best to walk at good speed without drawing attention. This was terrible. But what could he do?
It would take him too long to trek to the forest without a horse, and even longer to try and find the camp he'd heard rumours of, if he did at all. What could he do?
He looked around the market, frozen in indecision, when suddenly his eyes fell on a man at one of the stalls. He didn’t seem to be buying anything, just talking to the owner, but when he went to move away, Steve caught the glint of a coin changing hands. When the man looked around, Steve realised he recognised him. He’d seen him, on one of the rooftops in their village.
Thank god.
The man started heading for the city gates and Steve ran after him, not wanting to lose his chance.
“Hey! Hey, you!”
The man turned at Steve’s shout, looking apprehensive. “Yes?”
“You’re one of his, aren’t you? The Iron Man’s?”
The man flinched, almost too slight to notice, but Steve caught it nonetheless. “I don’t know what you’re talking—“
“I don’t have time for this,’ Steve snapped, grabbing the man’s cloak in his hand. “I know you are. And you have to warn him.”
The man’s face was half-hidden by his hood, but he saw his eyes widen. “Warn him of what?”
“It’s a trap,” Steve said, praying the man would believe him. “I overheard some of the Sheriff’s men, deep in their jugs, say that the taxes being brought in from the north are just a ruse, designed to capture him. If he tries to rob it, he could be taken and killed.”
“How do I know if I can trust you?”
Steve released him, looking at him in his dark eyes. “I am Steve Rogers, from Brooklyn. If I am a liar, you can find me there and kill me.”
The man barked a surprised laugh. “Christ, you really have balls, don’t you? No wonder he likes you.” His grin spread over his face and he looked delighted.
Steve blinked. “What?”
“I’m Rhodey, the Iron Man and I have served together a long time. My family have been linked to his for three generations and I grew up in his father’s household alongside him. He has very few secrets from me.”
Not some mere commoner then, Steve realised with surprise. A man from a noble family. Curiouser and curiouser.
Rhodey looked at Steve carefully, and Steve realised it hadn’t been a slip. It was the other man trusting him with some of the Iron Man’s past. He gave an understanding nod.
Rhodey returned it.“I will tell him and prevent the raid. Thank you.”
Steve slumped in relief. “Tell him—“ he paused, unsure what he even wanted to say. Anything that came to mind was surely only for the Iron Man’s ears. “Well, tell him to be careful, I guess.”
The man’s lips curled in knowing amusement. “I shall. Stay well, Steve.” Then he disappeared into the crowd.
“That man has started to visit our village an awful lot,” Bucky observed, watching the Iron Man and his crew lead the guards on a merry chase across the fields. “We hadn’t seen him before this, makes me wonder what’s changed.”
Steve could feel his eyes on the side of his head, but refused to look. “I can’t imagine. Maybe they’ve realised our village is an easy target or something.”
Bucky’s tone was just as casual as he crossed his arms. “Well, in my experience, a fella only does ridiculous things like that—“ he pointed at the Iron Man who now was riding his horse backwards as he shot arrows at the guards, “—when he wants to show off for someone. I wonder who’s here that he might want to show off to.”
“Bucky,” Steve started, feeling a little clench in his belly. “He’s not— I mean, he’s an outlaw. He probably has lovers in every town, I wouldn’t even be a second thought. I imagine there are a hundred more handsome people willing to let him lay low in their bed for the night. He wouldn’t lack for choice.” He picked at a loose thread on his tunic. “He probably doesn’t even remember that I kissed him.”
Bucky’s eyebrow was up now, and Steve hated that expression. He only got it when he thought he was about to be insufferably right. “No man goes looking for the attention of someone like this that he does not want to bed, enthusiastically and often.” Steve gave him a scandalised look but he pushed on. “And far be it from me to encourage dalliances with outlaws, but maybe do something to stand out if you’re so concerned you’re at the back of the line.”
Steve raised his own eyebrow. “So now you’re supporting lewd behaviour?”
“I’m supporting you not moping about, and him to stop doing that before he gets knocked off the damn thing.” Bucky gestured at the Iron Man who was now doing some sort of handstand on his saddle, seemingly to taunt his pursuers. “Right now he’s the only thing between us and being made destitute by the Sheriff, and if he gets trampled because he wants in your britches, I will not be pleased.”
That made Steve flush for some reason, and when he looked at the Iron Man, he could swear he was looking back at him. He waved, just in case, and the Iron Man took one hand off the saddle to give a little salute. Then he sprung from his hands into a little flip that landed his right way on the horse, and he took off for the forest, the guards swearing and cursing as they disappeared into the trees.
Bucky gave him one last look before he went back inside, and Steve hummed.
Fortune favoured the bold after all.
“I mean, I do just want to make sure you know that’s not why I do this? I really believe in protecting the public and saving them from cruelty. I would hate for my motivations to be misinterpreted as some scheme to take advantage of gorgeous— oooh, fuck.”
Steve’s hands came up to hold his hips tight for leverage, as he fought the discomfort in his throat as he took the Iron Man deep.
He hadn’t planned on getting on his knees in an alley way in the town during his weekly visit to the market, but much of his life was seemingly going without plan at the moment, and he found he rather liked it.
Besides, what was he supposed to do when he saw the man handing out food and coin to the needy at Friar Harold’s church, their faces lighting up at the kindness and a hope they hadn’t felt in a long time?
“Jesus, that feels good,” the Iron Man said, voice rough. “I haven’t had this in— and you, you’re— fucking hell.”
That sounded promising. But then, a man with many lovers would no doubt know how to make someone think they were special.
“I think if you want more you better stay put.” He gave his cock a few long strokes, his tongue playing with the end.
The Iron Man gasped. “Is this a trap? Keeping me here for the sheriff to arrest me? Because if it is, it’s working, and I accept my fate.”
Steve bobbed his head a little before pulling off, giving him a raised eyebrow. “You don’t think you should be a little more worried?”
The outlaw shook his head. “Death is death, why not go out with la petite mort if I must go at all?”
Steve shook his head. “You’re ridiculous.” Then he slid back down, and got to work, his tongue working over the rigid flesh with renewed enthusiasm.
The other man’s hips were starting to twitch beneath his hold, and Steve let his hands drop away, giving him free rein.
He felt a hand slide into his hair, tightening just enough to make his scalp tingle, and when he tipped his head, the other man’s eyes were black with desire.
He looked up at the Iron Man, then pointedly slid all the way to the base.
“Holy shit,” the man groaned, and then he was holding Steve in place as he thrust into his mouth.
All that practice on an old carrot had paid off, even if he’d had to lie to Bucky about why it could no longer go in their stew.
“God, you’re perfect, you know that? And your mouth. It’s so good at talking back, I should’ve known it would be good at everything.” He grunted as Steve tightened his lips. “You feel amazing.”
That gave Steve a swell of pride. He relaxed further, letting him go deeper and Steve moaned appreciatively. He was fighting the way his throat protested the intrusion, but he didn’t care. The way the Iron Man looked down at him, the heat in his eyes through the now familiar metal mask was enough to soothe any discomfort.
The Iron Man grunted, rolling his hips and using Steve’s mouth to pleasure himself. The harsh panting of his breath against the metal was almost obscene in the way it filled the air. The whole thing was indecent in the best way.
“That’s it, oh, you’re so good Steve, you’re so fucking good, I—“ groaned, long and deep as he hit his peak, Steve working hard to swallow as the outlaw’s cock pulsed in his mouth, painting his throat. The Iron Man held him tight as he worked through the tremors, hand tight in his hair, but gentle on his jaw, the thumb stroking the bone affectionately.
When he finally pulled free, Steve licked at his stretched lips and the Iron Man hissed. “Look at you. Gorgeous.”
Steve got to his feet, putting the man’s cock away and tidying his clothes. If it weren’t for the flush of his cheeks, no one would be the wiser.
“Let me, I can—“ He was reaching for him but Steve stepped back. He was hard, and he desperately wanted his touch, but he liked this little game they seemed to be playing. A tease and a challenge all at once.
“No, no,” Steve said, and he smirked at Iron Man’s noise of protest. “That was for you. A little gratitude from the populous you serve.”
The other man gave a huff of amusement. “I see, so this is just you paying me back on behalf of everyone? How noble of you.”
“I try my best,” Steve said, and he licked his lips, enjoying the way the man’s eyes followed the motion. “Just need to make sure you stay motivated to help us, after all.”
The Iron Man stepped closer, boxing Steve in as he dipped his head. “I do like incentives.” And then, pushing the mask up just enough to reveal slightly chapped lips, he kissed Steve, hands coming up to cup his head and told him in place as he plundered Steve’s mouth. Steve melted in his hold, arms coming up to loop around his neck and he whimpered as he was kissed thoroughly and, dare he say, expertly.
“I thought nobles were no good at this sort of thing,” he teased, when he was finally allowed to pull back for a breath. “Why be good when you can be rich?”
The Iron Man didn’t even twitch. Clearly Rhodey had told him of their meeting. One hand dropping to run up and down Steve’s side, sending tingles up his spine, a smirk clear in his voice. “To be truly noble is to be both, chivalry applies to all realms.”
He kissed Steve for a little longer before there was a sharp whistle overhead and he drew back with a sigh. “Unfortunately, that’s my cue.”
Steve dropped another peck on his lips. “Keep fighting the good fight.”
The Iron Man smiled at him, pulling the mask onto his face. Then with a little wave he was gone, clambering up the wall at leaping over in an easy arc.
Steve touched his lips, sensitive from the pressure.
He hoped that was bold enough.
Perhaps they should have expected it.
An outlaw couldn’t suddenly take such interest in one place without the authorities taking notice. To go from causing chaos across the lands to being seen in one village more often than not was hardly a difficult puzzle.
So, maybe Steve should’ve seen it coming when the Sheriff’s guards rode into the village at sunrise.
He woke to the sounds of shouting, and the faint smell of smoke on the air.
“Steve!”
He shot up, tugging off the blanket and rushing towards Bucky’s panicked shout. He stumbled to the window, his eyes going wide at the chaos.
People were screaming, running buckets from the well to put out the roofs that were alight. The thatch burned hot and bright, the orange glow surrounding the entire village. He felt almost hypnotised by it, the horror and beauty overwhelming.
Hands grabbed his shoulders, pulling him away.
“We have to go!” Bucky told him, gathering their paltry possessions and shoving them into a sack. “They know someone here has been helping the Iron Man, and it’s not going to take long for someone to squeal while they’re burning houses.”
Fuck. Steve hadn’t meant to bring this down on their little community. He’d just wanted to stop the Sheriff from draining them dry.
He shoved his feet into his boots, tossing Bucky’s jacket at him as they made it out the door.
Bucky looked at him. “Where can we go?”
Steve squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to focus. They could flee to the town, see if they could hide out somewhere? If they could make it to Sam’s he might let them lay low. But would that just lead the trouble to him?
Steve squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t know what to do. And this was all his fault, he’d gotten Bucky into this, he—
“Hey! You two!”
Time was up. They had to go.
The answer came to him like a bolt of lightning. “The forest!” Steve grabbed Bucky’s arm as they started to run. “We have to make it to the forest. We can hide out.”
They cut across the fields, bodies heaving with the effort as they ran with all their might. Steve’s chest was burning. He’d never been much for physical exertion, his small body unable to keep muscle or strength. But he couldn’t stop. If he stopped, Bucky would too and they’d both be hanged.
His mouth tasted of copper, the pain in his side aching and he knew he couldn’t go much longer. Even if they got to the forest, he wouldn’t be able to do much more.
The soldiers were gaining on them, and Steve realised they weren't going to make it. He and Bucky were going to get caught, and it was all his fault.
“Buck,” he panted, locking eyes when Bucky turned to look at him. “I’m sorr—“
An arrow flew overhead and struck one of the guards in the chest, sending him sprawling. Steve followed its trajectory back, just in time to see a dozen arrows fly from the trees.
Steve felt a flush of relief so sudden and powerful it was dizzying. “Run! Bucky, run!”
Under the flurry of arrows they made it into the trees, not stopping until they were a good way in.
Steve clutched at his side as he tried to catch his breath, every muscle burning in protest.
“Where do we go?” Bucky asked, looking around as his own chest heaved. “They’ll follow us in, we need to—argh!” Bucky suddenly vanished into the forest floor.
Steve stared at where he’d been. “Bucky? Bucky!” Where had he gone?
He stepped forward to look for him - had he fallen? - when suddenly a hand wrapped around his ankle and the ground was whipped out from under him. He fell forward, the forest floor rushing up to meet him, and then he was jerked back and the world went dark.
He thrashed in panic, when a warm body slid over him, a hand covering his mouth.
He was struggling, his body screaming for breath from the run, and he sucked it in desperately through his nose.
He fought the grip, trying to get free, when he suddenly heard the sound of heavy footsteps, the jingle of chain mail and he froze.
“Quiet, little fish,” a familiar voice whispered in his ear. “Wriggle too much and you’ll jerk the line, lead them right to us.”
Steve was ashamed to say the words, despite the threat of capture, sent a hot flush over his skin. He went limp, the rush of fear he’d been feeling starting to seep from his body as the sounds of the guards receded, leaving just the quiet of the forest, and the warm breath of the Iron Man against his ear.
It sent tingles over his scalp.
There was a sharp whistle, and the light poured in as the cover lifted. Now Steve could see, it appeared to be a stretched animal skin over a wooden frame, covered with leaves. A hand grasped Steve’s and he was dragged to his feet. He looked around to see a dozen people emerging from under similar covers.
“Well, well, well, what have we here?” He looked over to see the Iron Man standing there, hands on his hips. “A couple of men on the run from the Sheriff? Tsk tsk, I ought to turn you in.”
Bucky brushed dirt from his britches. “Thanks for the assistance.”
“No trouble,” the Iron Man said, a twinkle in his eye. “I am the scourge of Nottingham, the ghost of Sherwood Forest, the—“
“I know who you are,” Bucky huffed, rolling his eyes. “Thanks for saving our money, and fixing the well.”
All the puff left the Iron Man’s chest, and he looked put out. “Well. Fine. You can call me Tony, all the outlaws do.”
Tony.
It felt odd to know his name after all this time, but it suited him. He looked so at ease, even after all that.
He moved towards Steve who was still struggling to catch his breath. “Are you alright?”
Steve opened his mouth to answer, but it was like the air was caught in his chest. He couldn’t breathe. He felt himself fall, his body seemingly giving in now that they were clear of danger.
“He gets like this sometimes,” Bucky said, voice getting closer. “His mother said his lungs were weak as a baby, never quite worked right.”
Despite the fear Steve was feeling about his potential demise, he couldn’t help but feel as though Bucky was throwing him under the horse in front of a man he would very much like to see naked.
“What do we do?” The Iron Man - Tony - asked, sounding a little panicked. “Is he— Bruce! Get over here!”
Steve was pushed to sitting, Tony pressed up behind him as a man with shaggy brown hair and a kind face appeared in front of him. “Steve? I need you to try to breathe with me, alright? Slow, and deep.”
Did he think Steve wasn’t trying???
“Can’t you do better than that?” Tony asked, sounding frustrated. “What good are all your potions and herbs if they can’t help him?”
Bruce shook his head. “I can make something to help him, but it takes time. Right now, all he can do is try to calm down and get some air.”
Tony huffed, but his hands were firm on Steve’s hips as he held him against his body. “Can you feel me breathing?” Tony’s mouth was warm against his ear. “Try to follow it, breathe with me. Come on.”
Steve relaxed against Tony’s chest, feeling it move against his spine. He tried to match it, fighting his stubborn lungs. He was not going to die from this. Not after he’d escaped the Sheriff’s guard.
It took time, felt like an age though Steve couldn’t tell how long it really was. Finally though, he took a clear breath, slumping against Tony in relief.
A hand brushed over his forehead and he opened his eyes. Tony was looking down at him, full of affection. “You do like to make an entrance, don’t you?”
The mask was gone, and it was like seeing the sun for the first time. Tony was breathtaking.
In his mind, Steve had been prepared for him to be no different to any other man he’d seen. The Iron Man was after all a hero, bravely standing up to the Sheriff and helping the commoners survive. And, well. Steve knew what he looked like, he assumed the man would be much on his own level, given he could have anyone in the kingdom in his bed.
So, it didn’t matter if he were handsome or dull, his heart and wit shone through and it was that which Steve - dare he say it? - loved.
But he was. Handsome. Write a ballad and sing of his features throughout the land handsome. Those pretty brown eyes he already knew, set in a strong face with thick dark hair.
Had Steve perhaps perished on the run and opened his eyes to the face of an angel?
Hmmm, his body ached too much for that. It had to be real, no matter how unbelievable that seemed.
“Got to keep you guessing,” Steve tried, though any bravado was heavily undermined by the croak in his voice.
Tony smiled, pressing a kiss to his temple. “We need to get somewhere safe. Come on.”
Steve wasn’t sure he was ready to walk yet, but that apparently wasn’t a problem. Strong arms slipped under his knees and he was lifted up into the air. “Arms around my neck, there you go.”
Was it the most dignified way to arrive in a secret camp full of brave and crafty outlaws? Probably not.
Steve pressed his cheek against Tony’s pectoral, listening to the strong heartbeat beneath.
He didn’t really mind that much.
The outlaw camp was much bigger than Steve had expected.
Fuller too.
They’d trekked deep into the woods to a clearing in a small valley, tucked between two rock faces, the entrance hidden by more of the clever camouflage. Almost a tiny village made of tents.
Steve was greeted by many - folks he’d never seen, though seemed to know who he was well enough. By the look of the pink-ish tinge of Tony’s cheeks, he suspected he knew who had spoken of him.
Rhodey in particular greeted him with a smile, and Steve was glad to see him again.
There were men and women, young and old, and a few children running around in a game of chase. It had a warmth to it, a hope that Steve had not seen in their own village in years.
He was placed on a wooden bench around the fire, a cup of ale pushed into his hand. He drank it, making a pleased sound at the taste.
“From the Sheriff’s own stores,” the woman who handed it to him said, with a conspiratorial air. Her hair was long, and a pretty chestnut colour, flowing beneath a green cloth cap. “A gift from the Bishop of Dunich, re-gifted to us most kindly after a visit to town last month.”
Steve huffed a laugh. “His generosity knows no bounds.”
She gave him a wink before passing him a bowl of soup, shouting orders to some of the boys to put more wood on the fire. As he ate, Steve watched as the camp prepared for the evening meal. Everyone had their duties it seemed, even Tony.
He grinned at Steve as he chopped the firewood. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been watching quite so intently as Tony tugged off his shirt, glistening muscles on display, but Steve was only a man.
To his surprise, though perhaps it shouldn’t have been, Sam was in the camp, embracing Bucky and giving Steve a wave. Steve watched as he sharpened the swords, ensuring they were battle ready.
As day turned to night, they gathered to feast upon the fresh meat roasted on the fire.
“To the Sheriff of Nottingham, long may he make us all suffer!” Rhodey toasted, lifting a mug.
“May he raise taxes,” someone piped up. “So that I may spend less on good drink.”
There was laughter, and Tony stood his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “May we bid welcome to our new friends, and as always, ask God’s protection for our King, so he may return at last.”
There was a cheer, followed by an amen, and everyone dug into their meal with gusto.
Later, when the food was finished, and the celebration continued in good spirits with songs and stories, Tony took Steve’s hand, leading him away from the main part of the camp. Tucked away was a smaller fire, blankets lain across the ground.
There they sat together, sharing a mug of the ale between them, as the fire flickered and popped.
Now that they were alone, Steve finally posed the question that had been on his tongue since the toast. “Do you truly believe the King will fix things?”
Tony took a long sip, letting the ale slip down his throat in a smooth motion. “The King would never sanction this. He’s a good man. And when he returns, everything shall be well. We just have to wait.”
His tone was certain. But not like that of blind faith, like someone who knew.
“How do you know the King so well?”
The question seemed to surprise the man as he hesitated in his answer. “I…have spent some time in the court. I have noble blood.”
Steve frowned. “This I gathered. But surely not all nobles know him with such intimacy? And if he favoured you, then why are you here, doing this?” Something must have gone very wrong for Tony to be on the wrong side of the law. He should be spending his time at his big house, upon his family land holding. Not living off scant game and roots in the forest.
He nudged Tony when he didn’t answer. “Why are you the Iron Man?”
Tony stared into the fire for a long moment, before he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly and purposefully. “I followed the King to fight because I thought it was my duty. And what I saw there, in Gulmira—“ He swallowed hard. “Well, it was not what I thought it would be.” He grabbed a log tossing it onto the blaze, blowing gently on the embers. “A man there saved my life, at the detriment of his own, and he told me things that made me realise we should never have been there. My—the King had been told by Stane and the other nobles that the enemy had been building an army against him, that they planned to invade England and he needed to strike first, but I saw for myself that wasn’t true. I knew that if I could tell him, we could find peace.
“So, I sought to find him. To show him the error of our ways, but it seemed someone caught wind of my plan and tried to have me killed. Rhodey saved me, got me on a horse, nursed me back to health, and my death was publicised enough that we were able to make our way back to England.” He looked at Steve with a smile. “I’m skimming over a lot of detail, it’s a long, rather depressing story otherwise.”
Steve winced in sympathy. “But if you’re safe, why not just return home and go back to your noble house?”
Tony sat up, running a hand through his thick, dark hair. “When I returned, I saw what the Sheriff was doing, and I realised it was he, and other unscrupulous nobles, who truly benefitted from the King being out of the country, and that he would do anything to keep it that way.” His mouth was a grim line. “Even have me killed.”
Steve’s eyebrows went up in shock. “You suspect Sheriff Stane of treason?”
“More than suspect. I have evidence now. More than enough. When the King comes home, he’ll get what’s coming to him.” He smiled at Steve. “Until then, we work to make things a little easier for the people he terrorises.”
It was strange. He had known for months that the Iron Man was a hero. A friend to the people. But there was something even more impressive in it, knowing he could easily have sat by idle and pretended not to know that people were suffering.
“You’re incredible,” he said, and the Iron Man looked at him in surprise.
“I’ve just told you I’m privileged and have done the bare minimum—“
“No,” Steve disagreed, moving closer. “Caring for people, doing what’s right, that’s for everyone, No matter where they grew up.” He grinned. “Or how many feasts they’ve attended.”
Tony smiled at that. “Then you’re more so. For doing what’s right even when you know the consequences will be worse for you.”
He wasn’t sure who moved first, but suddenly they were kissing, Steve’s arms coming up around the man’s neck and letting himself be pulled close.
The fire was warm at his side as he was pushed into the blankets, Tony a heavy weight atop him that he never wanted to lose.
“You’re so good,” Steve murmured, between heated kisses, and Tony’s hands clutched at his waist holding him in place.
“You are beautiful,” Tony growled, his touch hot on Steve’s skin. Steve had never imagined he might take the final step this way, on the forest floor beneath a wanted man. Who could’ve imagined such a thing? But he wanted it more than anything. “And you respond so well to my touch. You’re perfect.”
Steve had never been perfect to anyone. His mother had loved him of course, with all her heart, but he knew how his health had scared and plagued her, made her life harder than it needed to be. Bucky loved him, like a brother, but Steve had gotten him into trouble more times than he could count.
But Tony? Tony liked that about him. Craved him, not in spite of it, but because of it. Steve loved it.
Loved him.
“You can have me,” he panted, as Tony’s kisses moved south towards his collarbone. “You can take as much as you want.”
Tony grinned as the hands at his waist slid up, teasing beneath his shirt. “Another offering? I hope the townsfolk know how much they owe you.”
Steve shook his head, sucking in a breath as the hands drifted further, up his sides to his ribs. “Not for them. For me. I want you.” He reached out to run a hand through Tony’s hair. “I want all of you.”
Tony's breath seemed to catch at his request, his hands stopping in place. His thumbs were settled over Steve’s nipples. And even without moving sent tingles through him. “Is that right?” He asked finally, and his voice was a tease and a promise all in one. He tipped his head up to kiss Steve once more, mouths moving together for a long moment, before his hands shoved up, and his shirt whipped over his head and off. Steve shivered, but Tony quickly moved to mouth down the revealed flesh, hot breath making his skin twitch.
Steve had not lived a life of plenty. He was thin, boney even - as the little old ladies would tell him - and Steve worried for a moment that Tony would see the way his skin plastered to his ribs and hips, and be disgusted. But he didn’t. He moaned in appreciation as he continued down, suckling on Steve’s hipbones and making him whine. He was getting hard, his cock pressing up against his trousers. He was dying for some relief.
“What if I wanted to fuck you?”
Steve gasped, both at the words and the way Tony’s hand moved to cup him, the pressure close to what he needed, but not enough. “What if I want to hold you close, push inside, and make you beg me for release, hmm?”
That sounded really good, so good. Steve whined, trying to pull Tony closer. “I said, you can take as much as you want, didn’t I? So do it, already.”
“See, it’s that bite that gets you into trouble,” Tony teased, and now Steve felt the tie of his trousers being undone. Then a hand was wrapping around him and he cried out. He moaned as Tony stroked him, hot and tight, and he rolled his hips anxious for more. “But I happen to enjoy being bitten. And I’m certainly going to enjoy this.”
Steve felt a rush of air as his pants were removed entirely, leaving him bare beneath Tony’s gaze. The outlaw was still fully dressed, and Steve wasn’t sure why that made him feel hot all over. Tony rolled him onto his side, pulling him back against his strong chest, and now all Steve could do was stare into the fire as the other man laid kisses across his ear, neck and jaw. His hand continued its steady movements, bringing Steve close before he let go, making him sob.
Steve reached back to clutch at him, desperate. “Please, Tony, I want—you need to—“
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” Tony murmured, and Steve heard the pop of a cork. Then suddenly there was pressure at his entrance, slick and wet with something that made it easy for Tony to rub his fingers over Steve’s skin. “You’re perfect, that’s it.”
Tony’s other arm held Steve tight as he stroked the whirl of muscle, fingers playing Steve like a lute. Steve whined and whimpered as they pushed inside, opening him up, the stretch painful and good in equal measure. He felt them stroke him, inside, and the pressure was followed by a rush of pleasure.
Steve’s fingers pawed helplessly at Tony’s hip as he whined. It was too much. It wasn’t enough. He wanted more.
He’d seen how big Tony was when he’d gotten on his knees for him. He wasn’t sure the man would fit. But Steve wasn’t someone who gave up when things got tough, and he wanted this man more than anything. “Come on, Tony. Fuck me.”
“Alright, sweetheart,” Tony said, and his voice was right in Steve’s ear, making him squirm. “Here we go.”
One of Tony’s arms locked around his chest, the other dipped out of sight where he could hear the shift of fabric. Then Tony lifted his thigh, holding him open as he lined up, and began his smooth push inside.
“Oh god,” Steve gasped, the pressure almost heady, as Tony’s hips met his buttocks. He had taken him, all of him, and he was so full.
Tony pet him as he breathed through it, his fingers digging into the other man’s forearm where it wrapped around him. He shifted, moaning at the way it made Tony move inside him, pressing up against something that felt so good. He squeezed Tony harder.
“Move, please, I need you to, I need—“
“It’s okay, relax, my little dove, I will get you there.” Tony’s voice was reassuring in its tone, even if the man’s own breathing was hitching. He drew out, pushing back in, and Steve struggled to pull air into his lungs as he writhed, his body unsure how to react to all the sensation.
“Breathe.” Tony ordered, and Steve sucked in air, just as Tony thrust in harder, making it flow out in a squeak. Tony chuckled, and Steve flushed, glaring at the burning embers.
“Don’t go easy on me,” he said, pushing his hips back. His head was resting on Tony’s bicep, and he turned his head to kiss it tenderly. “Please, Tony.”
Tony held his thigh back further, really opening Steve up. “Hold on.”
It was all the warning Steve got before Tony began to move with a frantic pace. It was like being on horseback, along for the ride and with something powerful between his thighs. The outlaw’s strong arm held him in place, his thigh held high. He was at his mercy, clutching at him desperately as he pulled all manner of sounds from Steve’s throat.
He really hoped the rest of the merry band were far from here, not listening to Steve moan like a heifer in season, or see him naked compared to Tony’s comparably modest state of dress. He felt like some strumpet, servicing a nobleman who used him for his own pleasure. It made him hot all over, and he turned his head to let Tony kiss him, warm and wet.
“Tony, you feel so big, god, but so — ah! — good.”
“You were made for this,” Tony grunted, thrusting in and out fast and hard. “Made to take my cock.” It felt true. Like God had made Steve to give Tony this while he carried out his just mission. “You’re gorgeous, you know that? And I’m going to take you as often as I can because you love it, and I love you.”
That was what pushed Steve over the edge. The declaration said proudly and unreservedly into his ear as Tony’s pressed right up against that spot inside him that made his balls pull tight as he emptied himself onto the forest floor. It felt so good, it was like he was melting. So different from when he’d pleasured himself alone, the sensation like a burst of flame. He was hot all over, from the fire, from the spark in his blood, from Tony pressed along his back. He could barely feel his legs.
“That was beautiful,” Tony crooned, his hand releasing Steve’s thigh so he could rub soothing circles on his belly. He was still thick and hard inside Steve, and he wanted this feeling for Tony, so much.
He felt the man trying pull free, and he shook his head in complaint.
“You now,” he said, tongue clumsy in his mouth. “Want you to.”
“It can be a bit much,”Tony warned, hand stroking his belly. “I can please myself well enough.”
“No,” Steve was stubborn, surprising no one. “Please, I want you to. Please.”
Steve nearly yelped as he was rolled forward onto his stomach, Tony’s cock never leaving his body. The arm that had been holding him was under his chin now, keeping his face from the blanket, as Tony shifted, getting more leverage.
“Hold on, Sweetheart.” Then he was off.
The angle was deeper, and the thrusts harder and faster, and it was all so much. Steve was near sobbing as he was pushed higher and higher with sensation, just this side of being too overwhelmed.
Tony growled, kissing the back of Steve’s neck. “You taste exquisite.” He nipped lighting at the skin. “I like taking you from behind like this. Maybe next time I find you in the stocks, I’ll just oil you up and take my pleasure from you there and then.”
The image sent sparks up Steve’s spine as he imagined it. The stocks keeping him in place as Tony pounded into him. It was arousing, he couldn’t deny it.
“Or perhaps that’s too risky. I can just tie you over a log here, have my way with you, plant my face between these cheeks and take my fill until you no longer know which way is up.”
Steve moaned at that. He felt Tony shift, knees pushing Steve’s thighs wider and letting him get deeper as he rammed his way in and out of Steve’s tight hole. “I’m so close, so close, just a little longer, love, can you take me?”
Steve nodded frantically, tears prickling at the rims of his eyes as the pressure began to inch closer and closer to the line. He just needed to wait a little longer.
“Tony, god, Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony!”
“Fuck, yes, you’re so tight, so tight, can’t believe I get to be the first one in here,’ Tony moaned, rhythm starting to falter. “You’re fucking perfect, you—“ he broke off with a groan, long and deep as he shoved in, his hips rabbiting as he emptied himself into Steve.
Steve felt the sharp pressure peak unexpectedly, and cried out as he released a second time, the feeling of Tony’s own pleasure pushing him over the edge.
His bones were like hoof jelly.
“God, that was…” Tony trailed off, collapsing atop Steve and burying his face in Steve’s neck. Steve felt like purring at the affectionate kisses to his jaw, but now that it was over, he felt his body starting to chill, even with the fire. He shivered.
Tony rolled to the side, pulling carefully free. He grabbed a spare blanket, tugging it over them both, and then pulling Steve close until they were wrapped together face-to-face. “Did you enjoy it?” Tony asked, uncharacteristically shy now and Steve rolled his eyes as he kissed him. He felt great. A little sore, of course, but cared for, and as though he were made of soup. He yawned against Tony’s mouth, and the man huffed a small laugh.
“Go to sleep, my love,” he whispered, giving him a soft squeeze. “I’ll be here, you’ll be safe.”
And Steve settled in, letting sleep take him.
“—well, it seems you showed him a good time. The sun’s up and he’s still sleeping.”
Steve frowned at the voice nearby, not yet ready to face the day. He was a little cold, though pressed against something warm, and so he tried to ignore it.
“Make sure there’s some of the oats left, I don’t want him going hungry.” An arm, Tony’s his mind offered idly, tightened around him. “He earned a full belly.”
“Aye, and given the noise you two made last night, I imagine he’ll want a good mug of ale for his throat as well.”
The chest beneath his cheek shifts with laughter. “Don’t say that around him, he’ll go bright red.” There was a pause. “Or maybe do, he looks lovely when he does.”
“Good lord, I don’t think I’ve seen a man so smitten. It’s almost unseemly. You put the great ballads to shame.”
He could feel Tony’s fingers gently tapping against his spine, a grounding presence that made him want to slip back into unconsciousness. “I hope not, don’t they all end in tragedy?”
There was a pause, and then the other - Rhodey, Steve realised now, spoke again. “Don’t be so morose. Everyday we get closer to our goal, and when we are done, you will still need to live a life, my friend. You deserve some happiness.”
“That’s still up for debate, but I take your point.” There was a sigh, Tony’s voice quieter now. “He’d be better off without me though. Safer.”
“As would we all in some ways. But none of us are here just for you. We have our own problems to fight. You simply unite us and give us direction. Besides, what would you do without us?”
“Live a quiet relaxing life that doesn’t involve having to rescue idiot youths from being locked up for drunkenness, or finding salve because someone was too stupid to check the plants before they needed to take a piss?” Tony’s voice was amused now. “Or getting to sleep in without being bothered at all hours?”
“I feel that’s oversimplifying it a little.” Rhodey was trying to sound stern, but he wasn’t quite managing it.
“Well, given that if you lot weren’t here I might have a chance of making him scream again, I think I’m being more than fair.”
“Alright, alright, I’ll leave you to it.” He could hear Rhodey getting to his feet. “I’ll have Bruce drop off some breakfast for you both. Try not to give the man too much of a show.”
“No promises!”
Then it was quiet and Steve could hear Tony’s easy breathing near his ear. The cool air of the forest was tickling at his skin, and he burrowed closer to Tony for warmth.
“Good morning,” Tony said, and Steve reluctantly opened one eye to look up at him. Tony grinned. “You’re truly a vision this morning.”
Steve narrowed his one eye. He knew exactly what he looked like in the mornings. His mother had once compared him to a cat that had run backwards through a thicket, and he couldn’t imagine it was improved by being ravished on the forest floor. He was pretty sure there was a leaf in his hair.
Tony simply smiled wider. “I don’t jest, you look like a man who has been bedded well, and I can honestly say it’s one of your best looks.”
Steve rolled his eyes but accepted the kiss that was dropped on his lips. “What now? What do outlaws do all day?”
Tony looked a little sad at the reminder that Steve was stuck with them now but he rallied. “Well, first a spot of breakfast I’d say, a band robs on its stomach and all that. And then I thought maybe some light intimidation and a bit of larceny, and then back to the forest for a well earned ale, and then I thought, if you were amiable, I’d give you another tumble.”
Steve snorted, giving him a shove. “You’ve just got it all worked out, huh?”
“The Iron Man never stumbles,” Tony announced confidently. “But Tony could always use a helping hand.”
They were interrupted by the arrival of two bowls of hot oats and some honey, and Steve watched as Tony gave Bruce a playful shove.
He could be that for Tony, he thought. It would be his pleasure.
Steve didn’t mean to take up the role so well.
He really didn’t.
But the thing was, when your belly was full, and you weren’t constantly worried about the roof over your head being taken away, it was a lot easier to formulate plans. Organise raids. Run jail breaks.
Turned out, Steve kind of had the mind for it. He could formulate the ways things should go, see the things that could go wrong and mitigate them before they ever came to fruition.
Rhodey had started jokingly calling him Captain of the Guard, shortened to Captain after a while, and now Steve was known almost as well known as the rest of them. Bucky thought it was hilarious.
“The way they talk about you, you’d think you were eight feet tall. Imagine if they knew just what the Captain looked like, they’d faint in shock.”
Steve had rolled his eyes, but Tony had shot him a wink across the fire, and well, if Tony had called him ‘Captain’ in that breathy desperate way he did while Steve had ridden him like a seasoned horseman, that had only made it better.
But it did mean he had to be more careful. He was a wanted man after all, same as Bucky, and being good at it only made him more of a target.
Rhodey taught him how to sneak, and Clint taught him how to shoot (‘I’m actually the better shot, I just let him have the credit. Don’t want to damage that rich boy ego, you know?’), and Bucky turned out to be a natural swordsman once Sam showed him the ropes.
Steve liked all of them immensely. Each of them with their own skills and story. Young Peter, whose uncle was killed during a tax raid, leaving him to provide for his aunt. Sam who had been promised land for his family in return for his service in the army, but who like Tony had been left disillusioned, returning to England after an injury had left him unable to fight. Clint, who was raised in some travelling show, and left struggling when the Sheriff banned unsanctioned entertainment instead of risking humour at his expense. They'd been raided, arrested or split up, and Clint was always ready to make him look foolish. Dozens of men, dozens of stories, all much the same. And women too, the odd one living with them in the forest, but also Pepper and Natasha, who Steve learned lived in the castle, passing information and helping when they could. Natasha, it turned out, was the one who had saved him from Rumlow, and Steve felt guilty for the way he’d judged her.
Steve thought the ladies braver than any of the rest of them.
Overall though, apart from the constant danger of capture, life in the forest was easy.
Plus, Steve had Tony, who was just the kind of man he’d always secretly hoped for. Handsome, confident, a strong moral compass even if it had taken him a little to get to follow it. He was smart too, always creating new weapons for them and constructing traps to keep them safe.
And, needless to say, he was every bit the lover that everyone always said scoundrels were, and Steve was entirely happy benefitting from his experience.
So it was odd, he supposed, to say that this was the best his life had ever been, all while he was running from the law, but it was.
But deep down, he knew, that meant it couldn’t last.
They’d been on a supply run at the market in Rumlow’s courtyard, the man himself reportedly at the Sheriff’s stronghold, when it had all gone wrong.
Tony had meant to come with them, but he’d been needed by an old family friend to ride out to assist them. He’d been torn, but Steve had convinced him to go. He’d take Sam and Bucky, and they’d all be back by sunset.
He’d been collecting the last of the grain they needed, when suddenly riders had appeared at the gate, and Steve had sworn under his breath as he realised they’d miscalculated.
Apparently the lord of the manor wasn’t away like their scouts had been led to believe. Dammit.
He gestured to Clint, making one of the hand signals that was common to the outlaws. It made for fast communication, silent and across long distances as the message was passed to all of their crew in the courtyard telling them to make their exit.
But this time it wasn’t fast enough.
“The traitors are here! Round them up!”
There was chaos. The guards streamed through the crowd, people screaming and running as they tried to dodge the horses riding in.
It was dangerous - more of a display of authority than a proper attempt at control. Steve fell back against a stall as the crowd surged in panic, leaning down to tug a woman to her feet before she got trampled.
Rumlow swung off his horse, eyes scanning across the scramble. They locked onto Steve and he knew he was done for.
“You!”
Fuck.
Steve tried to run, and suddenly Bucky was at his side, trying to pull him through the crowd. “We have to go!”
Steve’s mind was racing, trying to find a way out. The exits were being locked down, and the push and shove of bodies around him was making it hard to stay on their feet. He caught sight of Clint, scrambling up one of the walls, and he waved to Steve, a rope in his hand.
That was their way out, but they’d have to be quick. The longer they stayed, the more people would get hurt in the scramble. The guards were being heavy handed, unnecessarily cruel. Steve didn’t want people to suffer.
“Bucky, we—“
Then a guard was charging them, sword swinging. Bucky grabbed the back of his shirt, tearing him backwards as the blade came down.
The sound Bucky made as it made contact would haunt Steve for a long time.
He was frozen as he watched the spray of blood fly off in an arc as the sword pulled free, and all he could do was stare in horror.
He stumbled as Sam made it over to them, knocking into him in his haste and giving the guard a swift strike with his wooden staff. “Bucky, oh god—“ Sam was ripping off his cloak to press against the wound, and Steve couldn’t even think, it was all too much—
Rumlow was suddenly tearing through the crowd towards him, and there was only one chance. If they caught them now, anything could happen to Bucky. He needed help, and he needed it now.
He needed a distraction.
Steve shoved at Sam. “Go! To Clint, now!”
Sam shook his head, but one look at Bucky’s pale face had him reconsidering. He tugged his good arm over his shoulder, leading him through the stalls towards the courtyard wall. Steve took off in the opposite direction, making sure to stay visible to Rumlow as he ran.
Steve darted around a fruit stand, trying to make for the back gate, but Rumlow stepped out from behind the flapping material, sword brandished.
He pointed the blade at Steve, who refused to flinch. “You are accused of working with the outlaw known as the Iron Man, and instigating revolt against the Sheriff of Nottingham. Do you deny it?”
He could see Bucky and Sam at the wall, Clint manning the rope to help them up and onto the rampart. As they reached the top, they both turned to him, wide-eyed and absolutely on the edge of doing something stupid, even as pain twisted Bucky’s expression.
No. Steve had to keep the focus on him. Keep them from getting to anyone else.
Steve glared at him, raising his chin and his voice, pulling the attention of the people around him. “I do not. The Sheriff is a plague on these lands, and when King Howard returns, he will get what’s coming to him!”
Rumlow shook his head. “You’ve chosen the wrong side, Rogers. And you shall hang for it.”
Steve’s heart thudded in his chest. He couldn’t deny the fear, but courage was not the absence of it. Doing the right thing sometimes required sacrifice. “Better to hang than to be some snivelling lapdog, Rumlow.”
Rumlow twisted his lips in anger, and Steve wondered if he might just strike him down now to save himself the trouble. But instead the man just gave a sharp whistle. “Tie him. We make for the castle.”
He caught sight of the other slipping over the wall, and he felt a flash of relief, even as he was trussed up like a calf.
As they rode back, the horse’s hip digging into his belly where he was draped across it, Steve let one single tear fall, for Bucky, and for Tony, who he knew would carry the blame of this.
He would not cry again.
Steve stared up at the Sheriff.
Stane was so smug up on his balcony, like he himself was king. Instead of what he really was.
A greedy interloper playing at being a ruler.
“Any last words?” The grin on his face was cruel. He wanted Steve to beg for his life but Steve would never give him that.
He stared up at him, every inch defiant. “Your days are numbered Sheriff, and when the King returns you will be punished for what you have done here.” He grinned. “Even if I’m not here to see it. Long live the King!”
“Enough!” Stane’s face twisted in a scowl as he pushed himself to his feet, finger pointing at the executioner. “Send him to meet his maker.”
Steve saw the man nod as he moved towards him. He urged Steve up onto a bench, using his bound hands to guide him.
Steve’s heart was pounding as the noose slipped over his head, the rope rough against his skin. He let his eyes fall closed. It would be best not to fight it, simply let himself succumb and hope for it to be quick.
He tried to let his mind drift to better things - his friends, his mother, Tony.
Tony’s hands on his skin, his lips against his cheek. His arms around Steve as he kissed his hair. That’s what he wanted to think about in his last moments.
He hated that Tony would blame himself. That he would think Steve would've been better off if they had never met.
As if Steve wouldn’t have starved anyway, worn down by the Sheriff’s machinations without a speck of hope.
He wouldn’t have changed meeting him for the world. Not even his imminent death could make him wish that.
A short love was still a great one, and it was still worth everything.
He heard the executioner's footsteps moving to the side, knew that was to give him clear aim when he kicked the bench out from under him.
Steve took a breath.
One beat.
Two.
Then—
There was a loud bang!
Steve’s eyes snapped open as people began to shout, trying to scatter as smoke filled the air. Stane was shouting, the guards racing towards the source of the explosion.
Steve blinked hard, trying to see through the thick smog. He couldn’t tell what was happening.
He jolted in panic as he felt an arm go around his belly, the line of the noose flopping onto his chest as it was sliced from the beam above. He struggled against the iron grip as he was dragged off the scaffold. He didn’t know what was happening but it couldn’t be good if the guard was taking him away.
Then he heard a familiar voice in his ear. “You’re usually happier to see me, darling.”
Steve went limp in relief, his eyes prickling with tears. “I knew you’d come.”
Tony turned him in his hold, pulling him close, as he pushed his mask up. He smiled, though it was a little sad. “Liar.”
“I knew you’d try to come,” Steve corrected, hand coming up to cup his jaw. “And that was good enough for me.”
Tony kissed him, the scratch of his moustache so familiar that Steve thought he might weep. He pulled back. “We have to get out of here.” The mask was slipped back into place and his hand curled around Steve. “Let’s go.”
The guards were desperately trying to put out the fire that had caught on the buildings around them, and Tony led them through towards the alleyways of the town, hoping to lose any pursuers in the maze. Steve looked up, and his eyes caught on Stane’s who stared down at the two of them. His face was red, almost burning in anger.
“There they are! The Iron Man and the prisoner. Get them. Get them!”
They disappeared into the maze of shops and houses, the sounds of the guards scrambling to pursue them. The heavy clank of their armour, the sound of hooves as they rallied their forces, echoing through the town.
Tony let go of his hand, only to pull his bow from his back. Steve reached out, tugging his cloak sideways to reveal the quiver, letting Tony grab an arrow with ease. The man’s eyes twinkled at him, a smile on his face at the gesture. And even through the panic it made Steve feel warm.
Swish. Thuck. Swish. Thuck.
The arrows flew, meeting their marks. The guards trying to close the city gate fell, leaving it wide open as they burst through the gap onto the road.
Tony pointed to two horses on the road. “There! Go!”
As they got closer, Steve squinted, trying to see who it was.
“Bucky?” Steve gasped, and the man waved. He was pale, and - Steve realised with shock - missing his left arm, the material bunched and tied below the joint.
His arm was gone. Steve felt sick.
“You brought Bucky? He’s hurt!”
Tony threw him an offended look even as he panted with the effort of running. “Brought him? You think I could stop him?? He shouldn’t even be upright, let alone riding a horse and yet he had a damn knife at my throat at even the suggestion that Rhodey and I handle it!”
Oh. Well. Bucky had always been stupidly loyal.
“You got horseshoes in your pants, Steve? Move it!” Bucky barked, and Steve ran towards him, hearing the shouts of Obadiah’s men in the distance. They had to get to the forest, it was the only way.
He swung up onto the horse, Tony clambering on behind him. Then with a click of his tongue, and a kick of Tony’s heels, they were off, galloping down the road towards the forest’s edge.
Steve could hear the thunder of hooves behind them, but he didn’t look back, there was no time. He couldn’t believe they’d even made it out of the town.
Bucky led the way, faster than them with only a single rider. He’d become a good horseman since they’d been outlawed, even with only one arm.
He turned his head to look at Tony. “You came for me.” He didn’t mean it to sound so wondrous, he’d meant it when he’d said he knew Tony would try. But it had seemed impossible. A fool’s errand.
Tony grinned. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again, you find trouble wherever you go.”
Steve huffed, settling himself better on the saddle in front of Tony. “Have you ever considered that you find the trouble and I am simply an innocent casualty of war?”
“Many times.” Tony looked sad again, and Steve cursed himself for speaking without thinking.
“Well, you’d be wrong. And arrogant to think that as well.” Steve turned back. “Now come, let’s catch up to Bucky.”
Tony handed him the reins, and turned in his seat. “Take us home, my love, I will make sure we’re not followed.”
He directed the horses towards the end of the road, only releasing the second horse once Bucky had swung himself on. He was still ridiculously agile, despite his injury.
He could hear the twang of Tony’s bow, the whistle of each arrow flying, not looking back but knowing they had hit their target.
There was a loud trumpet from the keep and Bucky swore. “I think we’re about to get more company.”
“Keep going,” Tony shouted, turning back around. “There are too many, we have to outrun them.”
The horses were breathing hard, the pace and weight hard to bear. Steve could feel the panic of it, that they may not make it, and that this time it would not be only his neck on the line.
“You shouldn’t have come for me,” he said, the words coming before he could even think to say.
The arm around his waist tightened sharply. “What did you say?”
“I said, you shouldn’t have come for me,” he repeated, he was committed now. “You should’ve stayed away. I could’ve died knowing both you and Bucky were safe. Now we will all die together!”
There was no reply for a moment. When Tony spoke, his voice was like Steve had never heard him. “Leave you? Leave you? Do you hear yourself?” Steve focused forward, but he could feel from the way the sound of Tony’s voice became clearer that he had turned to speak into his ear. “As if I could stop your best friend from coming to get you, missing arm or not? As if I could live with myself if I did not do everything I could to save you?” The arm around his waist softened, but held him no less close. “As if I would not rather die a thousand times than live without you?”
Steve’ heart thudded in his chest again, but for the first time it wasn’t the rush of fear. He swallowed hard. “Tony—“
“I am in love with you, and there is not a thing I would not do to keep you safe,” Tony said, quieter, but the way his mouth pressed to Steve’s ear he could hear it loud and clear. “And when the King comes home, I will marry you in front of God and everyone, just like I promised.” He reached around to take the reins from Steve’s hands carefully unfolding his grip. “But I can’t do that if we’re dead, so I need you to hold on.” He urged the horse faster, whistling to Bucky and pointing off in the distance, who seemed to understand. “Don’t quit on me yet, Rogers.”
Steve stared out at the long road ahead of them, took a deep breath, and nodded. If they had to die, it would be together, and it would be fighting every step of the way.
He held on as Tony guided them away from the castle, keeping them zig-zagging to avoid projectiles. He grabbed Tony’s knife from his belt, bracing himself so he could fling it when someone got too close. Steve felt a bit of satisfaction at the yelp, the rider forced to pull back as it imbedded in his thigh.
They were nearing the forest now, and if they could make it, they might just be alright. They just had to get across the—
Tony pulled hard on the reins, both of them nearly falling off the horse as she came to a sudden stop.
Coming up over the rise, was an army.
Soldiers and knights lined up across the road, glinting in the morning sun. Steve tried to count the rows back, but they disappeared into the sun’s haze.
He heard the shouts of the Sheriff’s men behind them as they pulled up as well, coming to a halt. They sat between two armies, and Steve could do nothing except take Tony’s hand and squeeze it. If these were their final moments, then he wouldn’t waste them.
“What is the meaning of this?”
A voice, clear and sharp, cut through the tension, as the lines parted. A rider, followed by a banner, making his way down to meet them.
“Who dares to stop me?” Sheriff Obadiah shouted, spit flecking his lips in anger. “I am the Sheriff of these parts and my authority will be respected! Authority granted to me by—“
“Me.”
The man had not even needed to raise his voice, the command so clear it stopped Obadiah in his tracks.
The man on the horse drew back his hood, and there he was. His face was strong, weathered, but somehow so familiar, though Steve had never before seen the man up close.
“Father,” Tony breathed, and it was all the confirmation Steve needed.
Good god, he'd been bedding a prince. He felt a little faint.
King Howard's gaze locked onto the Sheriff. “I ask again, Obadiah, what is the meaning of this?”
Were the situation not so fraught, Steve would’ve laughed at the fear on the man’s face. After years of tormenting the people, for him to be felled by no more than a handful of words was a sight to behold.
Sadly, it was not to last, the man more than capable of using that silver tongue to speak. “Your Grace! You have returned! Thank God for delivering you home safe.” He bowed his head in deference. Bastard. “I was not aware you were due back.”
King Howard looked at him, an eyebrow raised. “And yet you have ridden out to meet us?”
Obadiah shook his head. “But a happy accident, sire, or indeed fate, for I was in pursuit of these outlaws that have been terrorising your land and breaking your laws. I will see to it they are punished.”
The King looked their way, and Steve couldn’t help the hard swallow.
“Is this true?”
Then Tony reached up, sliding his mask up and off, eyes bright and happy. “Not at all, Your Grace. I am but your humble servant.”
The King’s frown melted away to disbelief, a smile spreading over his face. “Anthony.”
Tony slid off the horse at the same time as the King, and Steve watched as he embraced him. “My son. I feared—well, I was told you had fallen, at Gulmira.” His eyes shimmered, ever so slightly. “I mourned you.”
Tony gripped his hand tight. “A plot, father. An attempt to end our line.” Tony turned, pointing at the Sheriff. “Orchestrated by a man who sought to take power, and drain our people till there was nothing left.”
The King looked to Obadiah, whose face had gone pale at Tony’s reveal. He really hadn’t known who was behind the mask then. “Sire, you can’t—I would never. I have been nothing but your most faithful—“
“Seize him.”
Obadiah ran.
His horse wheeled around, and he made off down the road as if the devil himself was in pursuit. Steve watched as he fled, a cloud of dust in his wake, when suddenly there was a sharp familiar whistle, and then seemingly from nowhere an arrow flew, striking him in the side and sending him sprawling with a pained moan.
The King’s men flinched, weapons coming up, but Tony shook his head. “Fear not, sire, that was one of my men. The only sharpshooter I know who can best me. The man has the eye of a hawk. He will bring no harm to you.”
The King nodded. He gestured to his men. “Collect him, and take him back to the keep. I will decide how best to punish him for his treason once I have had wine and something to eat. No doubt he’ll enjoy the accommodations he built for our people in the meantime.” His command followed, he dismounted. “My boy.”
The King embraced Tony tightly, full of affection now that the shock seemed to have passed. “I have missed you, father.”
The King smiled, patting his back before pulling away. “And yet remained busy, I see.”
“I did what I could to protect the land in your name.” Tony smiled. “I am glad you’ve returned.”
“You have done well.” The King's eyes fell on Steve and Bucky curiously. “And not on your own, I gather.”
Tony brightened up, looking pleased. “Father, I must introduce you.” He led the King over to them. He pointed to Bucky. “This is James Barnes, a loyal man who lost an arm in your service.”
Bucky looked somewhat alarmed, but managed a half bow. “Your grace.”
The King nodded at him. “I thank you, my good man. You shall be rewarded for your moral strength and dedication.”
If anything, Bucky looked more panicked. “Uh, thank you, my King.”
Then Tony walked up to Steve, his handsome face covered in a wide smile. “And this is Steven Rogers.” He reached up, catching Steve’s waist and lifting him down from the horse with so much care, Steve’s breath caught in his throat. As his feet touched the ground, Tony pulled him to his side, arm around his shoulders. “The bravest man I have ever met, and my betrothed.”
Betrothed.
He had never used that word before. He had made promises of course, many, whispered declarations as they lay together hidden in the canopy of the forest. But never had he used that word, carving the vows into permanence.
The King’s eyebrows raised in surprise. Oh god, Steve was going to have gone through all this just to be executed by the King for daring to think he could marry his son.
Dammit, his mother always said his heart was going to get him into trouble.
But then the King seemed to recover, and a smile spread over his face. “Betrothed, eh? I cannot think of anyone better than one who has followed you into danger.” He looked amused now. “Did you know your mother once rode out to meet me mid-battle because I had forgotten my favourite sword?”
Tony looked amused, Steve was impressed. The Queen was apparently much more than just a noble lady. “You haven’t. I shall have to ask her myself.”
King Howard nodded. “It is a pleasure to meet my future son-in-law then. I will send for your mother to return from France at once, she will want to be involved in the planning for your wedding.” He held out his hand, and Steve dutifully dipped to kiss the ring on it.
Steve knew he should let Tony take the lead on this - a prince had much more sway than a pauper. But he had been fighting a long while, and he couldn’t help it. “Perhaps as a wedding gift, sire, you might suspend taxes? The people are in credit after many years of raises and it’s hard to celebrate a King’s return when you have but bread and water.”
King Howard looked at him for a long moment, and Steve could almost feel Bucky covering his face behind them. But then he barked out a laugh. “I like that! Spirit is good in a consort, you have chosen well, my son. Indeed Steven, I think our people have earned a great deal while I have been away, and they shall be rewarded.” He clapped his hands. “Come, we shall return to the castle and clear it of Obadiah’s stench, and then we shall have a celebration—‘ He winked at Steve. “—that everyone shall enjoy.” He called for his scribe. “And send word around England: King Howard has returned, feasts shall be held, and anyone who has dared abuse their stewardship in my absence shall be justly punished!”
There were cheers, and the King gave Tony one more fond clap of the shoulder before he was climbing back onto his horse. “I’ll see you back at the Keep.” Then the trumpet sounded, and the King and his entourage galloped past them, leaving Steve, Tony and Bucky staring at each other.
“Did that just fucking happen?” Bucky finally asked, and Tony was grinning.
“It fucking did!”
Then Bucky was sliding off his horse and pulling the two of them into a hug as best he could, and Steve couldn’t believe they were here, after all these years.
Bucky pulled away suddenly, clearing his throat. “Uh, I mean I guess that’s not appropriate now, your highness.” He attempted some sort of clumsy bow but Tony was there, catching his shoulder.
“None of that Barnes or I’ll think you’ve gone soft. Besides, bit late now. The number of insults you’ve called me, I could have you in the dungeon a hundred times over for that alone.” He grinned, and Bucky snorted.
“I like to think Steve would kick you out of his bed for that.”
“Ah, well, not worth the risk I suppose.” Steve rolled his eyes, elbowing his side. “Bucky, are you well enough to ride back to camp? Tell them what has transpired?”
Bucky gave a salute with his good arm.
“Oh Buck,” Steve lamented, the quiet suddenly letting him take it in properly. “Your arm.”
The man looked down at it with a shrug. “Is what it is. Better to lose it than my life, not now things are finally looking up.” He nodded at Tony. “And I imagine the Prince here can swing me a title when all this is said and done. I imagine I’ll mind it a lot less from my feather mattress with some pretty thing astride.”
Tony snorted, laughter bubbling out. “You are something else, Barnes. But the King will keep his word and reward you handsomely. A title, and I’ll be sure to introduce you to some of the finest ladies of my acquaintance.” He wiped a tear from his eye. “I know Natasha admired you when she saw you across the room during that Sheriff’s dinner we infiltrated, and that is a woman certainly unafraid of dismemberment.”
Bucky perked up. “She did?” He looked thrilled at Tony’s nod. “You think she’ll be at the feast?”
Steve knew that look. He had no doubt Bucky would be trying to charm her the next moment he got. Well, this time at least he deserved it.
“No doubt. I’m sure someone will be sent to tell her and Pepper.”
This really was going to be a grand celebration. Steve found himself getting almost excited.
Bucky straightened up, taking the rein in his hand. “Well, I’d best be off. Faint heart never won fair lady and all that.”
Then he was gone, galloping off towards the forest, his horse kicking up the grass and dirt as they made it across the fields.
Now that they were alone, Steve turned to Tony.
They stared at each other for a moment.
Then Steve threw himself into Tony’s arms, kissing him desperately. He’d thought that he was never going to have this again. That he would die, and their last kiss would’ve been the soft one he’d pressed to Tony’s lips before he’d left the forest. Tony was kissing back just as fierce and Steve felt as though he was being devoured. He wondered if it would always be like this, feeling as though they could never get enough of each other.
He let his hand thread through Tony’s hair, falling back against something warm and damp as Tony passed closer.
There was a whinny and a hoof stomp, and they broke free with a laugh.
Tony reached out and patted the mare’s shoulder. “Sorry girl, got a little carried away. We should head back to town.”
Steve nodded, feeling a little disappointed at the loss of Tony’s body against his. Tony seemed to notice, looking thrilled at the revelation. He leaned down to kiss Steve again. “Do you know how often I’m going to bed you now that I don’t have to run around the countryside like a criminal all the time?” He grinned. “Because it’s a lot.”
“I don’t know,” Steve said. “What if you find it was the excitement and the danger that you loved so much?” It was a tease, but at the same time, it was a fear Steve hadn’t dared yet voice. The idea that he was just the Prince’s bit of rough when he couldn’t live his life of luxury.
Tony looked at him, and Steve knew he could see right through him. “If you think that the danger is what I love about you, sweetheart, you really haven’t been listening.” He leaned in and kissed Steve again, long and hard, and it was like a claiming Steve could feel all the way to his toes. Tony smiled. “Besides, if we ever need to add a little heat to it, I hadn’t thought you the type to stay home while I go out and fight bandits or protect the borders in my father’s stead.”
Steve smiled. “Where you go, I go.”
“I knew I had chosen well. Now, come,” Tony said, swinging himself onto his horse and holding out a hand for Steve “Before I decide my father and the Kingdom can wait, and I take you up against that tree over there for old times sake.”
Steve laughed, taking the offered hand, and letting himself be pulled onto the saddle. “You really shouldn’t tempt me with a good time when we have places to be, your highness.”
Tony whimpered a little. “Oh, we’re really going to need to be careful where you say that.”
Steve laughed, kissing Tony one last time, before he grabbed the reins. He clicked his tongue, and dug in his heels and they were off, Tony’s own laugh ringing in his ears.
They were finally free, and their new life began right now.