Iron Man, Tony/Rhodey, shit blowing up
Rhodey had cut his teeth in the first Gulf War and had been within inches of explosives, and he still put his hands over his ears when he walked into Tony's new media room. "What the hell," he shouted. Tony didn't even notice.
What the fuck was Tony watching, anyway? All Rhodey could see was a screen full of fireballs, and the room was pounding with vibrations. It was made all the more surreal by the fact that outside the media room things were dead silent--apparently he'd put some serious money into soundproofing this place. Which was fine by Rhodey; he had half a mind to turn on his heel and walk out.
He tapped Tony on the shoulder; Tony spun around, eyes wide. "Hey," he yelled, or at least Rhodey was guessing that was what he'd yelled. The next part of his sentence was full of a bunch of things he couldn't make out, and somewhere in there was the word "blow".
"Yeah, I can see there's shit blowing up, turn that down," Rhodey yelled.
"What?"
"I said, turn off the explosions and--"
"What?" Blah blah blah "blowing" blah.
"Yeah, whatever, very impressive blowing up, now--"
Tony came off his couch--shit, he was weaving, how much had he had to drink today? He dropped to his knees in front of Rhodey and pushed his face up against Rhodey's fly; Rhodey jerked back and hit the backs of his thighs against the couch. "Oh, hell no, not again," he yelled, but that wasn't the answer Tony was looking for. Tony jerked at Rhodey's belt, undid his zipper, and had Rhodey's cock out of his pants in about two seconds flat. That was more coordination than any drunk guy had any right to have, but then this was Tony; par for the course with him.
The explosions were still going off all around them, and Tony, motherfucker, could suck a goddamned golf ball through a hose, which wasn't much of an excuse for Rhodey never stopping him when he got interested. It was against the rules--the military's rules, his own personal rules, not so much the "no taking advantage of a friend who's had too much to drink" rule as the "no fucking guys you can't trust to keep it on the down low" rule--but instead of thinking about that, Rhodey put a hand behind Tony's neck and shoved in nice and solid.
There was no way Tony could do this without being messy as hell about it, not with that much booze in his system, so Rhodey went with it, taking over and working his cock in Tony's mouth until he had one hell of a pretty picture to look at: Tony on his knees with his hands on Rhodey's thighs, both of them still dressed, Tony with his mouth open nice and wide and getting about half of Rhodey's dick with every stroke (Rhodey wasn't about to push for more than that when Tony was drunk; he'd tried once and the results had been very, very bad).
"I'm close," Rhodey said. The explosions were still too fucking loud for Tony to hear him, so he shrugged; if Tony didn't want any warning, that was his problem. He gave Tony a couple tight squeezes on the back of the neck anyway--don't say I didn't try--and then came, totally unsurprised when Tony shot back and gagged, coughing his way through the rest of Rhodey's orgasm while Rhodey grabbed his dick and worked it until he'd finished shooting all over Tony's stupidly expensive carpet.
"Mute," Tony croaked. The sound abruptly went away, leaving Rhodey's ears ringing--or maybe that was post-orgasmic, who knew. "Jerk," he said to Rhodey; he was still yelling, just a little, and still croaking quite a bit. He was also sprawled on his ass, leaning on one elbow, lips swollen. "You know I don't fucking swallow."
"It was your idea in the first place," Rhodey pointed out, pulling his jeans up and gently putting his cock away.
"You're the one who came in here talking about blowjobs."
Rhodey rolled his eyes. "Is that what you heard?"
"Isn't that what you said?"
"I was talking about shit blowing up."
"Oh." Tony blinked a few times, then nodded.
"Nice sound system, by the way."
"Right, yeah." Tony nodded again. "So..."
"So?"
"Me next?" Tony looked down at his groin, and yeah, despite the conversation part of this and the choking, he was still hard.
Rhodey sighed. "Yeah, okay," he said, stretching out on the floor next to Tony. "You next."