The Recording
Story Info
Title: The Recording
Author: Del Rion (delrion.mail (at) gmail.com)
Fandom: The Avengers (MCU)
Genre: Erotica
Rating: MA / FRAO
Characters: Bruce Banner (Hulk), Tony Stark (Iron Man).
Pairing: Bruce/Tony, Tony/OMC, implied (off-screen) Pepper Potts/Tony
Summary: Bruce unwinds with the help of a few real gems amongst Tony’s collection of adult films. You know, those videos of Tony without his clothes on.
Complete. Part of the “Slow Burn” -series.
Written for: My card on Love Bingo’s (love-bingo) Round 3 (square: “Passion”)
Warnings: m/m sexual content (voyeurism (sort of), kissing, masturbation), language.
Disclaimer: Iron Man, Avengers and Marvel Cinematic Universe, including characters and everything else, belong to Marvel, Marvel Studios, Joss Whedon, Jon Favreau, Paramount Pictures and Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures. In short: I own nothing; this is pure fiction created to entertain likeminded fans for no profit whatsoever.
Beta: Mythra (mythras-fire)
Feedback: Very welcome.
About The Recording: I was in the mood for porn, okay? And because it’s clear the internet doesn’t always yield the kind of porn you would like to watch, I decided to make my own. So, there. Enjoy.
(Also, this got a little side-tracked from ‘Bruce watches one of Tony’s dirty films’-idea. I hope no one feels that is a bad thing.)
Story and status: Below you see the writing process of the story. If there is no text after the title, then it is finished and checked. Possible updates shall be marked after the title.
The Recording
~ ~ ~
Written for my card on Love Bingo’s Round 3. Square: “Passion”.
The Recording
Tony was, quite often, passion incarnate. Whether he was planning, creating or engineering, it didn’t matter: you could see the depth of his dedication a mile away, and the intensity of his focus often made Bruce almost jealous, even though he had nothing to be jealous about; they did science together regularly, and Bruce had nothing to be ashamed about in that regard either because he got into it almost as much as Tony did.
The passion didn’t end there, though. Not by a long shot.
Tony’s often been called a sensual creature, because of his ability to schmooze anyone and anything into believing they were the center of his universe for one small moment. That was mostly an act and a lie, but a useful tool nonetheless - and one that Tony utilized whenever he had to. Not all people bought it, but he had other tools to deal with them.
Bruce saw Tony naked for the first time in a way that was not sexual in any way. Tony didn’t seem baffled, and besides, he had seen Bruce naked often enough, being the first on the scene after the other guy left the premises. So, nudity wasn’t an issue between them. It wasn’t normal, of course, because they didn’t exactly hang out in their birthday suits just for the hell of it; every time, it served a purpose.
Of course, if Bruce had put it that way to Tony, the man might have come up with another purpose. After all, Tony had a certain passion for passion itself, in the form people usually understood the word in best: sex.
Bruce didn’t mention it because he wouldn’t have dared to follow through. Mostly because of the other guy, but also because of Tony’s relationship with Pepper. Tony would have found a way around the latter - by asking Pepper’s permission - but Bruce refused to find a way around the former, so they would have been at an impasse anyway.
That didn’t mean, however, that Bruce couldn’t appreciate his friend in other ways. Tony was unafraid to provide Bruce with what he needed, after all, be it a place to stay, toys to play with, or an outlet for the urges that were normal and began to recur after Bruce established a routine that didn’t include running from the government.
Maybe it would have been easier to try and approach the problem in the easy, normal way - by having sex with Tony - but Bruce was a complicated man and Tony appreciated that, so that was how Bruce ended up on the couch of his floor in the Avengers Tower, his cock in hand and eyes nailed on the screen where one of those famous sex tapes of Tony Stark was playing.
The film was old - older than it had any right to be. It was as close to high definition as a video from that era could be, and Bruce could tell it wasn’t filmed accidentally or secretly.
Tony couldn’t have been older than twenty when it was shot. His chest was still smooth, without an arc reactor embedded in it, and he wasn’t wearing the goatee. It was unmistakably him, though, from the thick eyelashes to the wide eyes and the croon in his voice. And the passion… it was already there.
This wasn’t one of the films that circulated the internet, and Bruce had a feeling Tony might actually try and throttle him if Bruce got the idea into his head to spread it that way. Not that he would, and he appreciated the trust Tony had placed in him to be allowed to view this instead of some other film.
Bruce had yet to ask if there were more like this.
There was no big-breasted woman on the screen; there were no high-pitched moans and gasps - save for the few times Tony’s partner managed to nail his prostate and made the large brown eyes roll back, just a little.
A man older than Tony was between the youth’s spread legs, fucking him. He was fit, but nothing special. However, he knew how to use his equipment, so to speak, and that had to be a winning factor in why Tony had chosen him to enter his bed - and to save the encounter for later viewing.
For someone who had been a playboy for most of his life, Tony took cock beautifully. Not that Bruce should have been shocked by that. Tony arched his hips, his back, and kissed his sandy-haired lover like it was praise for a job well done. He wrapped his legs around the taller man’s waist and gave the perfectly positioned camera a very good look at the cock disappearing into his ass.
Bruce’s hand moved on his own shaft like it was an unrelated matter, even though every fiber of his being was focused on the action on the screen. He didn’t imagine himself in the place of Tony’s lover; the man’s cock was longer than his, his body paler, less hairy. Sure, Bruce had a fairly good imagination and he could simply stare at the joining point of their bodies, whenever the angle provided him a good look, but it wasn’t necessary. He wasn’t really watching the other guy, a stranger; Bruce found himself checking Tony’s face, over and over, his slack lips, the visible breaths he took, small groans and whispers of encouragement leaving him every now and then but nothing that would suggest he was actually performing for the camera.
And when Tony started to reach his peak, it was easy to tell; his body tensed, twisted, urged the other man on, and he looked so incredibly young in that brief second when his face crunched up in climax.
His partner pulled out, jerked off, and the two of them kissed and laughed and then the stranger left and Tony briefly glanced at the camera before the film came to an end. The coy little smile on his lips, satisfied yet somehow lonely, remained with Bruce.
“I think you were supposed to finish with me,” Tony’s voice suddenly reached his ears and Bruce jumped, just a little. His hand squeezed around his still-hard cock and he looked over his shoulder as the older version of the young man on the screen sauntered in, jumped over the back of the couch and landed beside him. “Need a hand?” Tony asked.
“You let yourself in,” Bruce observed dryly.
“I knew what you were watching,” Tony countered.
“I thought I had permission.”
“You do.” Tony halted. “Did you like it?” he asked next. It wasn’t just his ego that needed stroking; the question went much deeper, on a more personal level, and Bruce knew it was important that he answer truthfully.
“I think you know I did,” Bruce deadpanned, nodding down, towards his lap. His cock hadn’t softened, as if not fully caught up on what was going on.
“Let me help,” Tony asked, not looking down - as if he were being modest.
“No,” Bruce declined.
“It’s not a big deal,” Tony said. It sounded like a few of his arguments with Pepper, when he was on the losing side and knew it. Yes, this was Tony’s version of whining.
“It is to me,” Bruce noted, then absently started moving his hand because he had sat down here, watching porn featuring his best friend, fully intending to get off. He hadn’t achieved that yet.
Tony pouted. The line of his lips was the same as Bruce had briefly seen on the screen. “Is there any other way I can help you? By leaving, perhaps?”
“Did I ask you to leave?” Bruce asked in return, surprising himself a little. Then again, he had been staring at Tony having sex just a minute ago, so there was no way he could claim that looking at the more mature version of the man was a turn-off. Sure, he was wearing a lot more clothes, but Bruce had a vivid imagination for times such as these.
Tony smiled - didn’t offer him the grin that was another shield against the world, but a genuine, pure smile. “Okay. So, shall I just sit here? Do you want me to unbutton a few…” He gestured at his shirt, and then lower, at his jeans.
Bruce chuckled. “You really want to help?”
“Absolutely.” Tony perked up like a dog that had just been addressed, eager to serve.
“Come closer.”
Tony shifted closer, their bodies brushing. Bruce angled his head, smelling his cologne and the faint whiff of Tony’s workshop, mingling scents of oil, metal and other bits and pieces he could never really identify. Tony leaned his head on his shoulder, taking a sniff of his own, and it was kind of weird. That, also, was the general description of Bruce’s life, when things weren’t ‘horrible’, so he didn’t mind. He closed his eyes, inhaled, feeling the warmth of Tony’s body next to his and moved his hand.
“You sure you don’t want a hand? Just one hand, or a couple fingers,” Tony offered, lips moving against Bruce’s clothed shoulder.
“I’m good,” Bruce told him, then angled his head and breathed against Tony’s ear. “You can kiss me, though.”
“On the mouth?” Tony asked, lifting his face, a smirk on his lips.
“On the lips, yes,” Bruce confirmed, and Tony leaned over, framed Bruce’s face with his hands and dove right into it. The facial hair was a rough caress Bruce told himself to like. He didn’t need a lot of convincing, between Tony’s soft lips and the wet slide of his tongue, for Bruce to relent and open his mouth, letting Tony in.
It wasn’t overwhelming. One might think that Tony kissed like it was a form of fucking - which it was, but it was also slow and wet, a pleasant caress and a drag of teeth and lips. Tony didn’t bite, knowing Bruce’s issues with the poisonous qualities of his blood. He also left them enough room to breathe so that it didn’t become too hard to keep going.
When Bruce checked, opening his eyes, he found Tony’s eyes closed, lashes dark against his cheeks. Bruce followed his example, shivering a little at the light caress of Tony’s fingers as they moved, over his cheekbones to the tender spots of his ears and along his hairline. Nails didn’t drag, not once, and Bruce jerked his cock a little faster. His fingers toyed with the wet, sensitive head as Tony sucked on the tip of his tongue.
Growing weary of the teasing - and getting steadily closer to coming - Bruce pressed his advantage and followed Tony’s tongue into the other man’s mouth. Tony let out a small whine. Bruce jerked himself more purposefully at the sound. Soon he needed some room to breathe, though, to bring himself off with what he deemed a safe amount of control. Pulling back from the kiss, Bruce laid his head back against the couch and Tony plastered himself to his side, but didn’t reach down to touch him.
“You know, I would let you fuck me,” Tony murmured against Bruce’s neck, then kissed the spot, sucking on the skin a little. He moved up, towards his ear, sucking there as well.
“I know,” Bruce said. He knew Tony wasn’t looking at him jacking off, which was a little weird, but he was listening to the sounds of slick flesh and the stutters in Bruce’s breathing. Hell, he probably felt his pulse where he was currently alternating between kissing and sucking.
“But you won’t,” Tony mused, after a while - after too long a while to actually make a conversation of it.
“I won’t,” Bruce nodded a little, “but… don’t mistake it for… disinclination.”
Tony moved up to kiss his cheek just as Bruce came, the contact of Tony’s body and lips diverting his attention from the bliss of his orgasm, keeping him on the right edge of control.
As he came down from the brief high, Tony was nuzzling against his shoulder again. This time he was looking down, at Bruce’s hand stained with his own ejaculate. From that angle it was impossible to tell what his expression was like, but Bruce knew he needn’t concern himself.
“I need to clean up,” he stated finally.
Tony didn’t offer to help him. He simply got off the couch, threw him a smile and rounded the piece of furniture.
Bruce tried to catch a glimpse at the front of his pants, to see whether he was hard or not, but he knew it didn’t matter either way - other than for his personal stack of fantasies. He heard the door close softly a moment later and leaned back for a moment longer, inhaling the lingering scent of Tony and wondering whether watching sex tapes featuring his fellow Avenger would always lead to some version of these events.
Not that he had anything against that.
The End
Title: The Recording
Author: Del Rion (delrion.mail (at) gmail.com)
Fandom: The Avengers (MCU)
Genre: Erotica
Rating: MA / FRAO
Characters: Bruce Banner (Hulk), Tony Stark (Iron Man).
Pairing: Bruce/Tony, Tony/OMC, implied (off-screen) Pepper Potts/Tony
Summary: Bruce unwinds with the help of a few real gems amongst Tony’s collection of adult films. You know, those videos of Tony without his clothes on.
Complete. Part of the “Slow Burn” -series.
Written for: My card on Love Bingo’s (love-bingo) Round 3 (square: “Passion”)
Warnings: m/m sexual content (voyeurism (sort of), kissing, masturbation), language.
Disclaimer: Iron Man, Avengers and Marvel Cinematic Universe, including characters and everything else, belong to Marvel, Marvel Studios, Joss Whedon, Jon Favreau, Paramount Pictures and Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures. In short: I own nothing; this is pure fiction created to entertain likeminded fans for no profit whatsoever.
Beta: Mythra (mythras-fire)
Feedback: Very welcome.
About The Recording: I was in the mood for porn, okay? And because it’s clear the internet doesn’t always yield the kind of porn you would like to watch, I decided to make my own. So, there. Enjoy.
(Also, this got a little side-tracked from ‘Bruce watches one of Tony’s dirty films’-idea. I hope no one feels that is a bad thing.)
Story and status: Below you see the writing process of the story. If there is no text after the title, then it is finished and checked. Possible updates shall be marked after the title.
The Recording
~ ~ ~
Written for my card on Love Bingo’s Round 3. Square: “Passion”.
The Recording
Tony was, quite often, passion incarnate. Whether he was planning, creating or engineering, it didn’t matter: you could see the depth of his dedication a mile away, and the intensity of his focus often made Bruce almost jealous, even though he had nothing to be jealous about; they did science together regularly, and Bruce had nothing to be ashamed about in that regard either because he got into it almost as much as Tony did.
The passion didn’t end there, though. Not by a long shot.
Tony’s often been called a sensual creature, because of his ability to schmooze anyone and anything into believing they were the center of his universe for one small moment. That was mostly an act and a lie, but a useful tool nonetheless - and one that Tony utilized whenever he had to. Not all people bought it, but he had other tools to deal with them.
Bruce saw Tony naked for the first time in a way that was not sexual in any way. Tony didn’t seem baffled, and besides, he had seen Bruce naked often enough, being the first on the scene after the other guy left the premises. So, nudity wasn’t an issue between them. It wasn’t normal, of course, because they didn’t exactly hang out in their birthday suits just for the hell of it; every time, it served a purpose.
Of course, if Bruce had put it that way to Tony, the man might have come up with another purpose. After all, Tony had a certain passion for passion itself, in the form people usually understood the word in best: sex.
Bruce didn’t mention it because he wouldn’t have dared to follow through. Mostly because of the other guy, but also because of Tony’s relationship with Pepper. Tony would have found a way around the latter - by asking Pepper’s permission - but Bruce refused to find a way around the former, so they would have been at an impasse anyway.
That didn’t mean, however, that Bruce couldn’t appreciate his friend in other ways. Tony was unafraid to provide Bruce with what he needed, after all, be it a place to stay, toys to play with, or an outlet for the urges that were normal and began to recur after Bruce established a routine that didn’t include running from the government.
Maybe it would have been easier to try and approach the problem in the easy, normal way - by having sex with Tony - but Bruce was a complicated man and Tony appreciated that, so that was how Bruce ended up on the couch of his floor in the Avengers Tower, his cock in hand and eyes nailed on the screen where one of those famous sex tapes of Tony Stark was playing.
The film was old - older than it had any right to be. It was as close to high definition as a video from that era could be, and Bruce could tell it wasn’t filmed accidentally or secretly.
Tony couldn’t have been older than twenty when it was shot. His chest was still smooth, without an arc reactor embedded in it, and he wasn’t wearing the goatee. It was unmistakably him, though, from the thick eyelashes to the wide eyes and the croon in his voice. And the passion… it was already there.
This wasn’t one of the films that circulated the internet, and Bruce had a feeling Tony might actually try and throttle him if Bruce got the idea into his head to spread it that way. Not that he would, and he appreciated the trust Tony had placed in him to be allowed to view this instead of some other film.
Bruce had yet to ask if there were more like this.
There was no big-breasted woman on the screen; there were no high-pitched moans and gasps - save for the few times Tony’s partner managed to nail his prostate and made the large brown eyes roll back, just a little.
A man older than Tony was between the youth’s spread legs, fucking him. He was fit, but nothing special. However, he knew how to use his equipment, so to speak, and that had to be a winning factor in why Tony had chosen him to enter his bed - and to save the encounter for later viewing.
For someone who had been a playboy for most of his life, Tony took cock beautifully. Not that Bruce should have been shocked by that. Tony arched his hips, his back, and kissed his sandy-haired lover like it was praise for a job well done. He wrapped his legs around the taller man’s waist and gave the perfectly positioned camera a very good look at the cock disappearing into his ass.
Bruce’s hand moved on his own shaft like it was an unrelated matter, even though every fiber of his being was focused on the action on the screen. He didn’t imagine himself in the place of Tony’s lover; the man’s cock was longer than his, his body paler, less hairy. Sure, Bruce had a fairly good imagination and he could simply stare at the joining point of their bodies, whenever the angle provided him a good look, but it wasn’t necessary. He wasn’t really watching the other guy, a stranger; Bruce found himself checking Tony’s face, over and over, his slack lips, the visible breaths he took, small groans and whispers of encouragement leaving him every now and then but nothing that would suggest he was actually performing for the camera.
And when Tony started to reach his peak, it was easy to tell; his body tensed, twisted, urged the other man on, and he looked so incredibly young in that brief second when his face crunched up in climax.
His partner pulled out, jerked off, and the two of them kissed and laughed and then the stranger left and Tony briefly glanced at the camera before the film came to an end. The coy little smile on his lips, satisfied yet somehow lonely, remained with Bruce.
“I think you were supposed to finish with me,” Tony’s voice suddenly reached his ears and Bruce jumped, just a little. His hand squeezed around his still-hard cock and he looked over his shoulder as the older version of the young man on the screen sauntered in, jumped over the back of the couch and landed beside him. “Need a hand?” Tony asked.
“You let yourself in,” Bruce observed dryly.
“I knew what you were watching,” Tony countered.
“I thought I had permission.”
“You do.” Tony halted. “Did you like it?” he asked next. It wasn’t just his ego that needed stroking; the question went much deeper, on a more personal level, and Bruce knew it was important that he answer truthfully.
“I think you know I did,” Bruce deadpanned, nodding down, towards his lap. His cock hadn’t softened, as if not fully caught up on what was going on.
“Let me help,” Tony asked, not looking down - as if he were being modest.
“No,” Bruce declined.
“It’s not a big deal,” Tony said. It sounded like a few of his arguments with Pepper, when he was on the losing side and knew it. Yes, this was Tony’s version of whining.
“It is to me,” Bruce noted, then absently started moving his hand because he had sat down here, watching porn featuring his best friend, fully intending to get off. He hadn’t achieved that yet.
Tony pouted. The line of his lips was the same as Bruce had briefly seen on the screen. “Is there any other way I can help you? By leaving, perhaps?”
“Did I ask you to leave?” Bruce asked in return, surprising himself a little. Then again, he had been staring at Tony having sex just a minute ago, so there was no way he could claim that looking at the more mature version of the man was a turn-off. Sure, he was wearing a lot more clothes, but Bruce had a vivid imagination for times such as these.
Tony smiled - didn’t offer him the grin that was another shield against the world, but a genuine, pure smile. “Okay. So, shall I just sit here? Do you want me to unbutton a few…” He gestured at his shirt, and then lower, at his jeans.
Bruce chuckled. “You really want to help?”
“Absolutely.” Tony perked up like a dog that had just been addressed, eager to serve.
“Come closer.”
Tony shifted closer, their bodies brushing. Bruce angled his head, smelling his cologne and the faint whiff of Tony’s workshop, mingling scents of oil, metal and other bits and pieces he could never really identify. Tony leaned his head on his shoulder, taking a sniff of his own, and it was kind of weird. That, also, was the general description of Bruce’s life, when things weren’t ‘horrible’, so he didn’t mind. He closed his eyes, inhaled, feeling the warmth of Tony’s body next to his and moved his hand.
“You sure you don’t want a hand? Just one hand, or a couple fingers,” Tony offered, lips moving against Bruce’s clothed shoulder.
“I’m good,” Bruce told him, then angled his head and breathed against Tony’s ear. “You can kiss me, though.”
“On the mouth?” Tony asked, lifting his face, a smirk on his lips.
“On the lips, yes,” Bruce confirmed, and Tony leaned over, framed Bruce’s face with his hands and dove right into it. The facial hair was a rough caress Bruce told himself to like. He didn’t need a lot of convincing, between Tony’s soft lips and the wet slide of his tongue, for Bruce to relent and open his mouth, letting Tony in.
It wasn’t overwhelming. One might think that Tony kissed like it was a form of fucking - which it was, but it was also slow and wet, a pleasant caress and a drag of teeth and lips. Tony didn’t bite, knowing Bruce’s issues with the poisonous qualities of his blood. He also left them enough room to breathe so that it didn’t become too hard to keep going.
When Bruce checked, opening his eyes, he found Tony’s eyes closed, lashes dark against his cheeks. Bruce followed his example, shivering a little at the light caress of Tony’s fingers as they moved, over his cheekbones to the tender spots of his ears and along his hairline. Nails didn’t drag, not once, and Bruce jerked his cock a little faster. His fingers toyed with the wet, sensitive head as Tony sucked on the tip of his tongue.
Growing weary of the teasing - and getting steadily closer to coming - Bruce pressed his advantage and followed Tony’s tongue into the other man’s mouth. Tony let out a small whine. Bruce jerked himself more purposefully at the sound. Soon he needed some room to breathe, though, to bring himself off with what he deemed a safe amount of control. Pulling back from the kiss, Bruce laid his head back against the couch and Tony plastered himself to his side, but didn’t reach down to touch him.
“You know, I would let you fuck me,” Tony murmured against Bruce’s neck, then kissed the spot, sucking on the skin a little. He moved up, towards his ear, sucking there as well.
“I know,” Bruce said. He knew Tony wasn’t looking at him jacking off, which was a little weird, but he was listening to the sounds of slick flesh and the stutters in Bruce’s breathing. Hell, he probably felt his pulse where he was currently alternating between kissing and sucking.
“But you won’t,” Tony mused, after a while - after too long a while to actually make a conversation of it.
“I won’t,” Bruce nodded a little, “but… don’t mistake it for… disinclination.”
Tony moved up to kiss his cheek just as Bruce came, the contact of Tony’s body and lips diverting his attention from the bliss of his orgasm, keeping him on the right edge of control.
As he came down from the brief high, Tony was nuzzling against his shoulder again. This time he was looking down, at Bruce’s hand stained with his own ejaculate. From that angle it was impossible to tell what his expression was like, but Bruce knew he needn’t concern himself.
“I need to clean up,” he stated finally.
Tony didn’t offer to help him. He simply got off the couch, threw him a smile and rounded the piece of furniture.
Bruce tried to catch a glimpse at the front of his pants, to see whether he was hard or not, but he knew it didn’t matter either way - other than for his personal stack of fantasies. He heard the door close softly a moment later and leaned back for a moment longer, inhaling the lingering scent of Tony and wondering whether watching sex tapes featuring his fellow Avenger would always lead to some version of these events.
Not that he had anything against that.
The End