MCU: Variables
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Main characters: Tony, Bruce
Referenced characters: Steve
Pairing: Tony/Bruce
Contains: Sex
Rating: NC17
Summary: Only Tony Stark would be mad enough to keep pushing at Bruce's control.
Note: For the porn battle, prompt "limits".
"Got time?"
Tony is leaning in the doorway of the lab, a smile quirked on his lips, his tie loosened and shirt open at the neck. It's a calculated look -- Bruce suspects that there isn't anything else, with Tony. He's playing at relaxed, at casual. Bruce hums some sort of response, hands steady as he takes his measurements.
"What do you want?"
"You can work it out, big guy."
Most people seem to find Tony provoking. He certainly goes out of his way to fuel that reaction -- pushing through people's boundaries, always testing their tolerance. Bruce expected to have trouble with that, expected to ruin what goodwill the others might have for him with some outburst, some seeming and helpless betrayal...
But Tony's calculations are always exact.
"Feeling a little slow today?" Tony asks, and he loosens his tie further. There's a challenge in his eyes, a provocation.
Bruce puts down the instruments he's working with, turns to Tony. He's closed the door behind him and he leans against it now, head tipped back against the door, throat bared like an invitation. Bruce crosses the room to him in a couple of steps, the kind of speed that people expect from Hulk and not from the self-contained Bruce Banner. His hands find Tony's wrists, grip them, press them against the door in a command to stay still. He waits, even now, for the spark of alarm in Tony's face.
But there's none of that. Just satisfaction.
"One day you're going to misjudge this," Bruce says softly, ducking his head to bury his face in Tony's neck. He finds his pulse-point, bites there and feels Tony's heart speed up.
"Nah," Tony says, easy. His hands come up despite the warning, slipping the buttons of Bruce's shirt free. "I don't misjudge things."
"Like you didn't misjudge how pissed Steve would be when you -- "
"That wasn't important."
Bruce doesn't ask, And that means I am? He knows, by now, that it's foolish to ask questions like that of Tony -- and besides, he's still afraid of the answer. Instead he focuses on kissing Tony, on letting the little nips at his lip and the push of Tony's body against his surprise him all over again, little sparks of contact to speed his heartbeat. To send him out of control, but only just enough.
Tony makes a little satisfied noise when the kiss breaks, and Bruce braces himself for whatever will be next -- for Tony's submission or aggression or unexpected move, because Tony doesn't make this easy for him. Sometimes with Tony he feels almost --
And Tony's on his knees, and Bruce feels his heart speeding up far too fast, his breathing coming too quick, as Tony opens his pants and mouths at him through the thin layer of fabric left as a barrier. A tease, of course. There's a hint of teeth there, too, and Bruce sucks in a breath, braces himself against the door. Tony's not taking his time this time, clawing away Bruce's pants and underwear, his mouth sweetly hot and everywhere. Bruce can't help leaning into him a little, putting a hand down to grab at his hair, and Tony makes an encouraging noise.
He always does this. He always makes Bruce feel fit to come out of his own skin, so that he's already half on the edge when Tony puts his mouth on him. It doesn't take much -- a touch, a provocative look, a smile with a flash of teeth that isn't even directed at him -- and Bruce is here, frustrated and eager and on the edge of angry because how does Tony do this --
He shakes when he comes, the hand in Tony's hair clenching and unclenching, power coiling through him like anger and like that hideous strength that could burst out of him -- a cry that's almost pain, as if -- but it's release.
Afterwards Tony grins up at him, watching his heaving chest and his fast-fluttering pulse with satisfaction before he puts his mouth on Bruce's cock again, agonisingly too soon. He jolts with it, adrenaline spiking again, shudders at the light scrape of teeth, too soon, and he feels that power twisting inside him again.
But Tony, Bruce thinks, has calculated all the variables, and he can almost trust that.
This was originally posted here, on Dreamwidth. I would prefer people to comment and subscribe to me there, if you already have an account; I'll happily share Dreamwidth invites, if you want to make an account. Comments aren't disabled here on LJ, though.
Main characters: Tony, Bruce
Referenced characters: Steve
Pairing: Tony/Bruce
Contains: Sex
Rating: NC17
Summary: Only Tony Stark would be mad enough to keep pushing at Bruce's control.
Note: For the porn battle, prompt "limits".
"Got time?"
Tony is leaning in the doorway of the lab, a smile quirked on his lips, his tie loosened and shirt open at the neck. It's a calculated look -- Bruce suspects that there isn't anything else, with Tony. He's playing at relaxed, at casual. Bruce hums some sort of response, hands steady as he takes his measurements.
"What do you want?"
"You can work it out, big guy."
Most people seem to find Tony provoking. He certainly goes out of his way to fuel that reaction -- pushing through people's boundaries, always testing their tolerance. Bruce expected to have trouble with that, expected to ruin what goodwill the others might have for him with some outburst, some seeming and helpless betrayal...
But Tony's calculations are always exact.
"Feeling a little slow today?" Tony asks, and he loosens his tie further. There's a challenge in his eyes, a provocation.
Bruce puts down the instruments he's working with, turns to Tony. He's closed the door behind him and he leans against it now, head tipped back against the door, throat bared like an invitation. Bruce crosses the room to him in a couple of steps, the kind of speed that people expect from Hulk and not from the self-contained Bruce Banner. His hands find Tony's wrists, grip them, press them against the door in a command to stay still. He waits, even now, for the spark of alarm in Tony's face.
But there's none of that. Just satisfaction.
"One day you're going to misjudge this," Bruce says softly, ducking his head to bury his face in Tony's neck. He finds his pulse-point, bites there and feels Tony's heart speed up.
"Nah," Tony says, easy. His hands come up despite the warning, slipping the buttons of Bruce's shirt free. "I don't misjudge things."
"Like you didn't misjudge how pissed Steve would be when you -- "
"That wasn't important."
Bruce doesn't ask, And that means I am? He knows, by now, that it's foolish to ask questions like that of Tony -- and besides, he's still afraid of the answer. Instead he focuses on kissing Tony, on letting the little nips at his lip and the push of Tony's body against his surprise him all over again, little sparks of contact to speed his heartbeat. To send him out of control, but only just enough.
Tony makes a little satisfied noise when the kiss breaks, and Bruce braces himself for whatever will be next -- for Tony's submission or aggression or unexpected move, because Tony doesn't make this easy for him. Sometimes with Tony he feels almost --
And Tony's on his knees, and Bruce feels his heart speeding up far too fast, his breathing coming too quick, as Tony opens his pants and mouths at him through the thin layer of fabric left as a barrier. A tease, of course. There's a hint of teeth there, too, and Bruce sucks in a breath, braces himself against the door. Tony's not taking his time this time, clawing away Bruce's pants and underwear, his mouth sweetly hot and everywhere. Bruce can't help leaning into him a little, putting a hand down to grab at his hair, and Tony makes an encouraging noise.
He always does this. He always makes Bruce feel fit to come out of his own skin, so that he's already half on the edge when Tony puts his mouth on him. It doesn't take much -- a touch, a provocative look, a smile with a flash of teeth that isn't even directed at him -- and Bruce is here, frustrated and eager and on the edge of angry because how does Tony do this --
He shakes when he comes, the hand in Tony's hair clenching and unclenching, power coiling through him like anger and like that hideous strength that could burst out of him -- a cry that's almost pain, as if -- but it's release.
Afterwards Tony grins up at him, watching his heaving chest and his fast-fluttering pulse with satisfaction before he puts his mouth on Bruce's cock again, agonisingly too soon. He jolts with it, adrenaline spiking again, shudders at the light scrape of teeth, too soon, and he feels that power twisting inside him again.
But Tony, Bruce thinks, has calculated all the variables, and he can almost trust that.
This was originally posted here, on Dreamwidth. I would prefer people to comment and subscribe to me there, if you already have an account; I'll happily share Dreamwidth invites, if you want to make an account. Comments aren't disabled here on LJ, though.