Very Busy Man
Title: Very Busy Man
Type: Fanfiction, One-Shot, Crossover
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Tony is a very important and busy many who doesn't have time for commitment, dating, or blowjobs. Okay, maybe he has time for blowjobs. Speed/Tony
Disclaimer: I do not own Speed Racer, Iron Man, or any related plots and characters. They are the property of others who, as I have previously stated, are not myself. I am merely writing this for fun, and have no intention of using it for profit.
Notes: Okay, so this is sort of dumb, but I had writer's block and needed to finish something and rekindle956 suggested something that I couldn't refuse, sooo... this. Yaaay! :D
Crosspost: AdultFanfiction.net
Tony - that is, Iron Man - he'd saved a lot of pretty girls. A lot of very pretty girls, who were very thankful, and who, were it not for the thick metal suit between them as he cradled them in his arms or covered them to protect them from explosions, would have been glad to show their thanks in a very physical way.
Sometimes, it made him really hate the suit. Other times, when people were around, it gave him the strength to step back, to reject them so that he doesn't embarrass himself in public or get chiding glares from Pepper. Not that that would have stopped him, really, but ever since that almost-kiss he did sort of feel bad whenever he makes his sexual exploits too obvious in front of her. Nothing had happened, of course; she wasn't too keen on being left alone for hours again, and they had a long talk that was mostly her babbling about how it was a bad idea for a employer-employee relationship and that she liked him a lot but she didn't want to be a fling and a lot of other things that he didn't really listen to, because they all meant "no" and he didn't really like being rejected that much.
In any case, he'd saved a lot of pretty women.
There weren't a lot of guys he'd saved that he would have called pretty - or handsome, or anything like "attractive." It either said something really weird about the universe or something really terrible about him, but it seemed like all the girls he saved were these Amazon types in high heels, whereas all the men were older, balding businessmen.
Because it wasn't that he didn't find men attractive. He just didn't find many of them attractive. He was open-minded. Okay, he was mostly "open-minded" when he'd had more scotch than he could really handle, and Rhodey still reminded him about that night he'd gotten a little too touchy years back. Still, there were occasions when he was sober and still interested.
So he did notice when one of his rescues, some racer whose car had been sabotaged and who was the target of assassins sitting just off the a track running through miles of almost-barren tundra, was a particularly attractive young man, and if it wasn't for the fact that he was a very busy man - a Very Busy Man, in fact - he might've gotten the kid's name, too.
As it was, he was busy, and the next day he'd rescued another buxom blond from a collapsing bridge who'd made his dick hit the inside of his suit and that hurt and made him forget all about the pretty boy.
Until he was heading out to his car, because he was a Very Busy Man with many places to be, and there, down at the end of the driveway, there was a white and red car, too streamlined and sleek to be just a sports car, with that same pretty boy sitting in the front seat. As soon as he looked up and saw Tony, he smiled, big and bright and just like all those pretty girls, and scrambled out of the car. Rhodey wasn't there and Pepper was still inside, so he couldn't help but tense a little, but the kid had nothing but that dopey grin on him. Well, he had his clothes, but- okay, Tony was picturing the kid naked.
"Mr. Stark!" he said as he came close, and Tony noticed he looked a little nervous, actually. "I'm really sorry, to bother you-"
"Look, kid-"
"-but I just wanted to-"
"I don't really have time-"
"-thank you. Please, Mr. Stark. You saved my life."
And something about that, the way the words "thank you" and "please" rolled off those lips, the wide eyes, made Tony pause for a minute.
He was young, but not too young; the lines of his face said he was at least legal. He hoped. His face was open and honest in a way that only naive kids could be, but God if it wasn't a nice face to look at. And his body - did a race car driver really need to be that fit?
He didn't get a chance at most of those pretty girls he saved, and they didn't come to his door, so even though he was supposed to be gone by then, he said, "All right, come on. I don't have a lot of time."
He pulled the kid into his car - the Stark 2 - because he didn't have time for bedrooms and taking off clothes. The seats went all the way back anyway; it was enough.
The kid looked sort of confused as Tony gently pushed him into the seat, reaching down to press the button that made it fall away under him, but he dismissed the look and asked, "What was your name, again?"
"Speed Racer," the kid said, still with that confused look up at him as Tony climbed in, too. "Mr. Stark...?"
"Call me Tony," he said, and thought, What sort of name is "Speed" for... well, anyone? but it didn't matter, because the kid was laid out under him and still looking disappointingly confused. What did he expect, roses and wine?
There wasn't time for anything overly complicated, and since Speed wasn't taking matters into his own hands Tony figured he might as well take them into his. He shut the door and opened Speed's pants, pushing them down with his briefs and ignoring a bit of incoherent babble from the kid, who put his hands on Tony's shoulders like he was maybe going to push away, but then Tony's hand was on his dick and he just squeezed them instead.
The unfortunate thing was that they weren't further down, but it wasn't as though Speed could have reached what he needed to, anyway.
"Mr. St- Tony?" Speed still sounded uncertain, his voice shaky, panting already. It was a little frustrating at that point that he didn't just get that Tony was a Very Busy Man who, although he enjoyed sex as much as the next guy, had places to be and had to hurry through some things.
"Just relax," he said, his free hand on Speed's hip as he began to stroke him, slowly. Speed's hands twitched and squeezed again, and except for a gasp, he seemed to be done talking - for the moment, anyway.
Tony's hand drifted up from Speed's thigh, under that just-a-little-too-tight shirt and over his stomach for a moment, his other hand building speed, his strokes rougher, his thumb brushing the head of Speed's erection. He added a twist, then used his free hand to pull the kid up into a kiss just as rough and quick, threatening to bruise those pretty lips until Speed gasped, letting him lick inside and swallow the moan that followed.
Speed's hands had moved from his shoulders to his back, not quite pulling Tony in, but clenched in the fabric, bunching up the fabric in a way that reminded Tony of what he was wearing and that even if no one would say anything about his disheveled, stained state, they'd whisper about it and Pepper would have some very stern words for him. Maybe a handjob just wasn't in order.
There wasn't a lot of space in front of the seat, but Tony untangled his hand from Speed's hair and reached down, pushing another button and then there was just enough space for him to slide down, a little uncomfortably, between the kid's legs. From there he could lean back just enough to admire Speed's dick, big enough to put a smile on Tony's lips. Speed propped himself up on his elbows, looking down at Tony, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and still with that frustrating confused look lingering in his eyes, even if they were clouded with arousal.
Tony wanted that look gone. He figured the best way to do it was to wipe it off himself; he bent forward and, without any hesitation, wrapped his lips around the head of Speed's dick.
It wasn't something he did often. Or at all, really; most of his sexual encounters with other men involved a lot of hands and rubbing and some ass-grabbing, but he'd been blown by enough women that he figured he had a pretty good idea of how to do it. Speed seemed appreciative enough anyway, making a high-pitched noise in the back of his throat and putting his hands, which he'd fisted at his side when he'd lost his grip on Tony's shirt, into the older man's hair. He wasn't pushing, though he obviously wanted to, the muscles in his hips and thighs twitching. He was just holding on, like it was all he could do, like he'd be lost at sea without something - someone to hold onto.
Tony had one hand on the base of Speed's cock, covering most of what he'd never be able to fit into his mouth - at least not with a hell of a lot more practice - while his other hand held Speed's hip much in the same way the kid held his hair, his thumb moving in a small pattern over his hip.
The feeling wasn't exactly familiar, and Tony sort of wanted to be on the other end of it, but he was hard anyway and he just didn't have the time, so he pushed forward, down, taking as much of Speed in as he could before pulling back, drawing his tongue along the underside, pressing it up slightly when only the head of his dick was still in his mouth.
Speed made that strangled, high-pitched noise again and tightened his fingers in Tony's hair, and Tony figured that was good, or good enough, and went to work, quicking his pace as best he could manage, curling his tongue, the hand on the base of Speed's cock stroking in time, and he wanted to touch himself, to be able to get off quickly too, but Speed couldn't seem to help bucking up and he needed his other hand to keep him down.
Tony looked up, and the confusion was gone from Speed's face, thank God, replaced with a look of reckless bliss, like he'd forgotten he was in the passenger seat of a car and he probably had, which was, really, for the best. His mouth was open, his cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were closed or just barely opened - Tony couldn't tell, but either way it was good, and his breathing was quick, erratic, and telling of a quick end.
A quick end that came barely a moment later, with little warning, and Tony hadn't really anticipated swallowing to be so difficult. He had a sudden great appreciation for a lot more of the girls who'd gone down on him. He fought back the urge to gag, swallowing one mouthful, but it was still coming, and he swallowed more, as much as he could, but it wasn't good enough and he had to pull away, closing his eyes and wincing as he felt it hit his cheek, come dripping into his beard. So much for this being the cleaner option. But at least it hadn't gotten on his suit, though there was some on the floor and some more on Speed's pants, which were still wide open, Speed still panting as he came down from his sexual high. Tony wiped off his face, then cleared his throat, and Speed jumped up so suddenly at that he might as well have fired a gun.
"I, um," Speed said, fumbling for words and blushing, his eyes on his hands as he jerked up his pants and buttoned them quickly. He looked up, just slightly, not enough to meet Tony's eyes. "Your tie."
Tony looked down. He'd used it to wipe off his face without realizing. Oops. He shrugged and lifted himself up, almost straddling Speed for a moment as he pushed himself into the driver's seat. As Speed fumbled with the chair's buttons, trying to set it upright again, he removed the tie, tossing it into the back seat. "Ties are overrated anyway," he said, and leaned over to get his sunglasses from the glovebox. Speed blushed as the chair shot up, bringing him - and, most important, his dick - that much closer to Tony's hand.
"I, uh," and Tony wondered what the kid could have to say at that point, if he was going to be like one of those girls who didn't get that Tony wasn't really a commitment kind of guy, but then he blurted, "I have a girlfriend."
Tony looked at him, raising an eyebrow because his eyes alone could not properly convey his that is not my problem look with the sunglasses on. "And yet you came here to thank me."
Speed didn't look up from his hands, didn't even add an accusing tone as he said, "Yeah. To offer you a Racer Motors custom, free of charge."
Tony froze, his thoughts coming to a screeching halt, and oh God he was an idiot. "A what?"
"A car, Mr. Stark," Speed said, "but if you don't want it, I-"
Speed looked like he wanted to say more, but his words seemed caught in his throat, and he scrambled out of the car suddenly, taking a few quick steps away before turning back, opening the door again and leaning down but most decidedly staying out of the car.
"You can call Pops if you're interested. In it, I mean. The car." His blush got worse, and he closed the door quickly, hurrying back to his red and white car. He was screeching away a moment later, probably still blushing just as hard.
A car. He'd wanted to thank him with a car. Tony let his head fall against the steering wheel. God, he was such an idiot. And a slut, because he was still hard, and he could barely dredge up any regret about it, and...
He sat there for a long time, and he was half an hour late to the appointment he'd been so intent on keeping.
Type: Fanfiction, One-Shot, Crossover
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Tony is a very important and busy many who doesn't have time for commitment, dating, or blowjobs. Okay, maybe he has time for blowjobs. Speed/Tony
Disclaimer: I do not own Speed Racer, Iron Man, or any related plots and characters. They are the property of others who, as I have previously stated, are not myself. I am merely writing this for fun, and have no intention of using it for profit.
Notes: Okay, so this is sort of dumb, but I had writer's block and needed to finish something and rekindle956 suggested something that I couldn't refuse, sooo... this. Yaaay! :D
Crosspost: AdultFanfiction.net
Tony - that is, Iron Man - he'd saved a lot of pretty girls. A lot of very pretty girls, who were very thankful, and who, were it not for the thick metal suit between them as he cradled them in his arms or covered them to protect them from explosions, would have been glad to show their thanks in a very physical way.
Sometimes, it made him really hate the suit. Other times, when people were around, it gave him the strength to step back, to reject them so that he doesn't embarrass himself in public or get chiding glares from Pepper. Not that that would have stopped him, really, but ever since that almost-kiss he did sort of feel bad whenever he makes his sexual exploits too obvious in front of her. Nothing had happened, of course; she wasn't too keen on being left alone for hours again, and they had a long talk that was mostly her babbling about how it was a bad idea for a employer-employee relationship and that she liked him a lot but she didn't want to be a fling and a lot of other things that he didn't really listen to, because they all meant "no" and he didn't really like being rejected that much.
In any case, he'd saved a lot of pretty women.
There weren't a lot of guys he'd saved that he would have called pretty - or handsome, or anything like "attractive." It either said something really weird about the universe or something really terrible about him, but it seemed like all the girls he saved were these Amazon types in high heels, whereas all the men were older, balding businessmen.
Because it wasn't that he didn't find men attractive. He just didn't find many of them attractive. He was open-minded. Okay, he was mostly "open-minded" when he'd had more scotch than he could really handle, and Rhodey still reminded him about that night he'd gotten a little too touchy years back. Still, there were occasions when he was sober and still interested.
So he did notice when one of his rescues, some racer whose car had been sabotaged and who was the target of assassins sitting just off the a track running through miles of almost-barren tundra, was a particularly attractive young man, and if it wasn't for the fact that he was a very busy man - a Very Busy Man, in fact - he might've gotten the kid's name, too.
As it was, he was busy, and the next day he'd rescued another buxom blond from a collapsing bridge who'd made his dick hit the inside of his suit and that hurt and made him forget all about the pretty boy.
Until he was heading out to his car, because he was a Very Busy Man with many places to be, and there, down at the end of the driveway, there was a white and red car, too streamlined and sleek to be just a sports car, with that same pretty boy sitting in the front seat. As soon as he looked up and saw Tony, he smiled, big and bright and just like all those pretty girls, and scrambled out of the car. Rhodey wasn't there and Pepper was still inside, so he couldn't help but tense a little, but the kid had nothing but that dopey grin on him. Well, he had his clothes, but- okay, Tony was picturing the kid naked.
"Mr. Stark!" he said as he came close, and Tony noticed he looked a little nervous, actually. "I'm really sorry, to bother you-"
"Look, kid-"
"-but I just wanted to-"
"I don't really have time-"
"-thank you. Please, Mr. Stark. You saved my life."
And something about that, the way the words "thank you" and "please" rolled off those lips, the wide eyes, made Tony pause for a minute.
He was young, but not too young; the lines of his face said he was at least legal. He hoped. His face was open and honest in a way that only naive kids could be, but God if it wasn't a nice face to look at. And his body - did a race car driver really need to be that fit?
He didn't get a chance at most of those pretty girls he saved, and they didn't come to his door, so even though he was supposed to be gone by then, he said, "All right, come on. I don't have a lot of time."
He pulled the kid into his car - the Stark 2 - because he didn't have time for bedrooms and taking off clothes. The seats went all the way back anyway; it was enough.
The kid looked sort of confused as Tony gently pushed him into the seat, reaching down to press the button that made it fall away under him, but he dismissed the look and asked, "What was your name, again?"
"Speed Racer," the kid said, still with that confused look up at him as Tony climbed in, too. "Mr. Stark...?"
"Call me Tony," he said, and thought, What sort of name is "Speed" for... well, anyone? but it didn't matter, because the kid was laid out under him and still looking disappointingly confused. What did he expect, roses and wine?
There wasn't time for anything overly complicated, and since Speed wasn't taking matters into his own hands Tony figured he might as well take them into his. He shut the door and opened Speed's pants, pushing them down with his briefs and ignoring a bit of incoherent babble from the kid, who put his hands on Tony's shoulders like he was maybe going to push away, but then Tony's hand was on his dick and he just squeezed them instead.
The unfortunate thing was that they weren't further down, but it wasn't as though Speed could have reached what he needed to, anyway.
"Mr. St- Tony?" Speed still sounded uncertain, his voice shaky, panting already. It was a little frustrating at that point that he didn't just get that Tony was a Very Busy Man who, although he enjoyed sex as much as the next guy, had places to be and had to hurry through some things.
"Just relax," he said, his free hand on Speed's hip as he began to stroke him, slowly. Speed's hands twitched and squeezed again, and except for a gasp, he seemed to be done talking - for the moment, anyway.
Tony's hand drifted up from Speed's thigh, under that just-a-little-too-tight shirt and over his stomach for a moment, his other hand building speed, his strokes rougher, his thumb brushing the head of Speed's erection. He added a twist, then used his free hand to pull the kid up into a kiss just as rough and quick, threatening to bruise those pretty lips until Speed gasped, letting him lick inside and swallow the moan that followed.
Speed's hands had moved from his shoulders to his back, not quite pulling Tony in, but clenched in the fabric, bunching up the fabric in a way that reminded Tony of what he was wearing and that even if no one would say anything about his disheveled, stained state, they'd whisper about it and Pepper would have some very stern words for him. Maybe a handjob just wasn't in order.
There wasn't a lot of space in front of the seat, but Tony untangled his hand from Speed's hair and reached down, pushing another button and then there was just enough space for him to slide down, a little uncomfortably, between the kid's legs. From there he could lean back just enough to admire Speed's dick, big enough to put a smile on Tony's lips. Speed propped himself up on his elbows, looking down at Tony, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and still with that frustrating confused look lingering in his eyes, even if they were clouded with arousal.
Tony wanted that look gone. He figured the best way to do it was to wipe it off himself; he bent forward and, without any hesitation, wrapped his lips around the head of Speed's dick.
It wasn't something he did often. Or at all, really; most of his sexual encounters with other men involved a lot of hands and rubbing and some ass-grabbing, but he'd been blown by enough women that he figured he had a pretty good idea of how to do it. Speed seemed appreciative enough anyway, making a high-pitched noise in the back of his throat and putting his hands, which he'd fisted at his side when he'd lost his grip on Tony's shirt, into the older man's hair. He wasn't pushing, though he obviously wanted to, the muscles in his hips and thighs twitching. He was just holding on, like it was all he could do, like he'd be lost at sea without something - someone to hold onto.
Tony had one hand on the base of Speed's cock, covering most of what he'd never be able to fit into his mouth - at least not with a hell of a lot more practice - while his other hand held Speed's hip much in the same way the kid held his hair, his thumb moving in a small pattern over his hip.
The feeling wasn't exactly familiar, and Tony sort of wanted to be on the other end of it, but he was hard anyway and he just didn't have the time, so he pushed forward, down, taking as much of Speed in as he could before pulling back, drawing his tongue along the underside, pressing it up slightly when only the head of his dick was still in his mouth.
Speed made that strangled, high-pitched noise again and tightened his fingers in Tony's hair, and Tony figured that was good, or good enough, and went to work, quicking his pace as best he could manage, curling his tongue, the hand on the base of Speed's cock stroking in time, and he wanted to touch himself, to be able to get off quickly too, but Speed couldn't seem to help bucking up and he needed his other hand to keep him down.
Tony looked up, and the confusion was gone from Speed's face, thank God, replaced with a look of reckless bliss, like he'd forgotten he was in the passenger seat of a car and he probably had, which was, really, for the best. His mouth was open, his cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were closed or just barely opened - Tony couldn't tell, but either way it was good, and his breathing was quick, erratic, and telling of a quick end.
A quick end that came barely a moment later, with little warning, and Tony hadn't really anticipated swallowing to be so difficult. He had a sudden great appreciation for a lot more of the girls who'd gone down on him. He fought back the urge to gag, swallowing one mouthful, but it was still coming, and he swallowed more, as much as he could, but it wasn't good enough and he had to pull away, closing his eyes and wincing as he felt it hit his cheek, come dripping into his beard. So much for this being the cleaner option. But at least it hadn't gotten on his suit, though there was some on the floor and some more on Speed's pants, which were still wide open, Speed still panting as he came down from his sexual high. Tony wiped off his face, then cleared his throat, and Speed jumped up so suddenly at that he might as well have fired a gun.
"I, um," Speed said, fumbling for words and blushing, his eyes on his hands as he jerked up his pants and buttoned them quickly. He looked up, just slightly, not enough to meet Tony's eyes. "Your tie."
Tony looked down. He'd used it to wipe off his face without realizing. Oops. He shrugged and lifted himself up, almost straddling Speed for a moment as he pushed himself into the driver's seat. As Speed fumbled with the chair's buttons, trying to set it upright again, he removed the tie, tossing it into the back seat. "Ties are overrated anyway," he said, and leaned over to get his sunglasses from the glovebox. Speed blushed as the chair shot up, bringing him - and, most important, his dick - that much closer to Tony's hand.
"I, uh," and Tony wondered what the kid could have to say at that point, if he was going to be like one of those girls who didn't get that Tony wasn't really a commitment kind of guy, but then he blurted, "I have a girlfriend."
Tony looked at him, raising an eyebrow because his eyes alone could not properly convey his that is not my problem look with the sunglasses on. "And yet you came here to thank me."
Speed didn't look up from his hands, didn't even add an accusing tone as he said, "Yeah. To offer you a Racer Motors custom, free of charge."
Tony froze, his thoughts coming to a screeching halt, and oh God he was an idiot. "A what?"
"A car, Mr. Stark," Speed said, "but if you don't want it, I-"
Speed looked like he wanted to say more, but his words seemed caught in his throat, and he scrambled out of the car suddenly, taking a few quick steps away before turning back, opening the door again and leaning down but most decidedly staying out of the car.
"You can call Pops if you're interested. In it, I mean. The car." His blush got worse, and he closed the door quickly, hurrying back to his red and white car. He was screeching away a moment later, probably still blushing just as hard.
A car. He'd wanted to thank him with a car. Tony let his head fall against the steering wheel. God, he was such an idiot. And a slut, because he was still hard, and he could barely dredge up any regret about it, and...
He sat there for a long time, and he was half an hour late to the appointment he'd been so intent on keeping.