Twenty Years
Explicit but not detailed, Bruce/some girl/Tony but it's not really about that.
It has been twenty years since Tony has been to Wayne Manor. He is surprised to find how well he remembers this house. A portrait of Bruce’s parents hangs prominently in the foyer, which is new to Tony but has probably been there for years, moved to the front of the house as a memorial after their death. But the Italian marble tile, the rich wood paneling, the sweeping staircase -- these are the same.
“Bruce Wayne, finally back from having disappeared off the face of the Earth; sorry it took me so long to catch up with you,” Tony says, stepping forward into Bruce’s circle of admirers. Bruce has a pretty brunette in a dress with an obscenely low neckline on one arm, his hand skimming the curve of her hips.
“Tony Stark! God, it’s been years.” Bruce grabs Tony’s hand for an extremely firm handshake and a slap on the back. “Tony and I used to terrorize Alfred when we were extremely young,” Bruce says, by way of introduction, to the girl with the low-cut dress.
***
It has been twenty years since Tony has been to Wayne Manor. Bruce had been a lonely child, rattling around the Manor with only Alfred and his parents to keep him company. Tony had been one of his few playmates, if you could call them that. Bruce remembers Tony taking apart his broken alarm clock and putting it back together, good as new. He remembers Tony teaching him the principles of gearing up and gearing down while showing him a new robot he had built. He remembers Tony because Tony was like him.
“Tony, this is, uh...”
“Angela,” she supplies helpfully. “Angela Carson. Doesn’t Bruce throw the best parties?”
“Uh, yeah,” Tony replies. “You know, you should come to one of my parties sometime before you decide on which are the best. People seem to think my parties are pretty good.” Angela’s eyes roam over Tony, the same way they had roamed over Bruce earlier. Bruce recognizes the appraisal -- it’s one he’s seen before, many times, from many beautiful women he’s taken home and not remembered in the morning.
***
It has been twenty years since Tony has been to Wayne Manor. It had been something of a scandal for the families to socialize back then, because the Waynes were old money -- very old money -- and Stark Industries had been built from the ground up by Tony’s father. After the death of Bruce's parents, Tony would occasionally see him at the social events that Bruce had been unable to get out of attending -- at least, when Bruce was in the country at all, which hadn't been very often.
Since Bruce's return to Gotham three years ago, Tony had been expecting their paths to cross. Bruce had blasted onto the social scene after a long absence, making up for the years of his quiet and withdrawn adolescence with a string of lavish parties. Tony wonders if Bruce is putting on a show, or if he really has loosened up as much as it appears.
“So, Iron Man, huh? Saving the world, how’s that working out for you?” Bruce’s eyebrows lift and there is something bright and piercing in his eyes.
“Great, great, yeah, it’s great. You should try it sometime.” It’s a question he should have expected from Bruce, and one he never knows how to answer. What is he supposed to say, he has a heart of gold and is determined to help the needy? He doesn’t care about the people he’s helping but gets off on all the attention he gets for doing it? He just likes blowing up the bad guys? They are all true to some extent, and all lies at the same time.
***
It has been twenty years since Tony has been to Wayne Manor. During those twenty years Bruce lost his parents, lost himself, and found himself in a cave full of bats. He had bounced from one school to another, unable to focus or settle, unable to forget. He had returned to Gotham, bent on killing the man who murdered his parents. He had thrown the gun into the harbor and left again, to make himself capable of the vengeance he had been denied.
He had returned and taken up the role of Bruce Wayne, star of Gotham’s social scene. When he puts on the mask of Bruce Wayne, he thinks of Tony.
“Doesn’t Gotham have its own superhero? Never met him myself -- it’s not like we have social clubs -- but I hear the Batman is cleaning up the town.” Tony looks at him with guileless eyes.
“Well, I’ve said before and I’ll say it again -- a guy who dresses up as a bat must have issues. He’s got a great car though, have you seen it? I’d love to have one of those in my collection, I’m sure you would too.” Bruce catches Angela’s eye as she finds her way back to them through the crowd. “Anyway, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about your arc reactor technology. Don’t want to fall behind in the clean energy race.”
***
It has been twenty years since Tony has been to Wayne Manor. During those twenty years, Tony lost his parents, lost himself, and found himself in a cave in Afghanistan. He had lived the life of a careless socialite, only finding real satisfaction working on new designs alone in his basement. He had seen the destruction his weapons caused and he had made himself a suit of iron to stop it from happening again.
In the library, Angela is between them on the floor, her lips wrapped around Tony’s cock while Bruce fucks her long and slow. But Bruce is not looking at Angela -- he’s looking at the arc reactor in Tony’s chest. “I heard you were injured in Afghanistan,” he says, as calm and collected as if they were in a board room meeting. “I also heard you miniaturized the arc reactor. I didn’t realize they were related.”
“Yeah, it--” A shiver runs up Tony’s spine as Angela moans around him. “It keeps my heart beating and keeps the shrapnel out. The reactor powers an electromagnet.”
“Why don’t you have the shrapnel surgically removed?” Bruce asks, “or a heart transplant?”
There is a long silence, punctuated only by the wet sounds of Angela’s mouth and the slap of flesh against flesh.
***
It has been twenty years since Tony has been to Wayne Manor. Tony pours himself a shot of Scotch as Angela straightens her dress. He can see Bruce zipping up his pants out of the corner of his eye.
Why doesn’t he have the shrapnel surgically removed?
Bruce tells Angela to give Alfred her phone number as she slips out the door to return to the party. He turns and looks at Tony, and for a moment they are two lonely boys again.
“I don’t want to forget,” Tony replies finally. There is a terrible compassion in Bruce’s eyes, and Tony looks away. “I won’t allow myself to forget.”
This entry was originally posted at http://marmolita.dreamwidth.org/582.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
It has been twenty years since Tony has been to Wayne Manor. He is surprised to find how well he remembers this house. A portrait of Bruce’s parents hangs prominently in the foyer, which is new to Tony but has probably been there for years, moved to the front of the house as a memorial after their death. But the Italian marble tile, the rich wood paneling, the sweeping staircase -- these are the same.
“Bruce Wayne, finally back from having disappeared off the face of the Earth; sorry it took me so long to catch up with you,” Tony says, stepping forward into Bruce’s circle of admirers. Bruce has a pretty brunette in a dress with an obscenely low neckline on one arm, his hand skimming the curve of her hips.
“Tony Stark! God, it’s been years.” Bruce grabs Tony’s hand for an extremely firm handshake and a slap on the back. “Tony and I used to terrorize Alfred when we were extremely young,” Bruce says, by way of introduction, to the girl with the low-cut dress.
***
It has been twenty years since Tony has been to Wayne Manor. Bruce had been a lonely child, rattling around the Manor with only Alfred and his parents to keep him company. Tony had been one of his few playmates, if you could call them that. Bruce remembers Tony taking apart his broken alarm clock and putting it back together, good as new. He remembers Tony teaching him the principles of gearing up and gearing down while showing him a new robot he had built. He remembers Tony because Tony was like him.
“Tony, this is, uh...”
“Angela,” she supplies helpfully. “Angela Carson. Doesn’t Bruce throw the best parties?”
“Uh, yeah,” Tony replies. “You know, you should come to one of my parties sometime before you decide on which are the best. People seem to think my parties are pretty good.” Angela’s eyes roam over Tony, the same way they had roamed over Bruce earlier. Bruce recognizes the appraisal -- it’s one he’s seen before, many times, from many beautiful women he’s taken home and not remembered in the morning.
***
It has been twenty years since Tony has been to Wayne Manor. It had been something of a scandal for the families to socialize back then, because the Waynes were old money -- very old money -- and Stark Industries had been built from the ground up by Tony’s father. After the death of Bruce's parents, Tony would occasionally see him at the social events that Bruce had been unable to get out of attending -- at least, when Bruce was in the country at all, which hadn't been very often.
Since Bruce's return to Gotham three years ago, Tony had been expecting their paths to cross. Bruce had blasted onto the social scene after a long absence, making up for the years of his quiet and withdrawn adolescence with a string of lavish parties. Tony wonders if Bruce is putting on a show, or if he really has loosened up as much as it appears.
“So, Iron Man, huh? Saving the world, how’s that working out for you?” Bruce’s eyebrows lift and there is something bright and piercing in his eyes.
“Great, great, yeah, it’s great. You should try it sometime.” It’s a question he should have expected from Bruce, and one he never knows how to answer. What is he supposed to say, he has a heart of gold and is determined to help the needy? He doesn’t care about the people he’s helping but gets off on all the attention he gets for doing it? He just likes blowing up the bad guys? They are all true to some extent, and all lies at the same time.
***
It has been twenty years since Tony has been to Wayne Manor. During those twenty years Bruce lost his parents, lost himself, and found himself in a cave full of bats. He had bounced from one school to another, unable to focus or settle, unable to forget. He had returned to Gotham, bent on killing the man who murdered his parents. He had thrown the gun into the harbor and left again, to make himself capable of the vengeance he had been denied.
He had returned and taken up the role of Bruce Wayne, star of Gotham’s social scene. When he puts on the mask of Bruce Wayne, he thinks of Tony.
“Doesn’t Gotham have its own superhero? Never met him myself -- it’s not like we have social clubs -- but I hear the Batman is cleaning up the town.” Tony looks at him with guileless eyes.
“Well, I’ve said before and I’ll say it again -- a guy who dresses up as a bat must have issues. He’s got a great car though, have you seen it? I’d love to have one of those in my collection, I’m sure you would too.” Bruce catches Angela’s eye as she finds her way back to them through the crowd. “Anyway, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about your arc reactor technology. Don’t want to fall behind in the clean energy race.”
***
It has been twenty years since Tony has been to Wayne Manor. During those twenty years, Tony lost his parents, lost himself, and found himself in a cave in Afghanistan. He had lived the life of a careless socialite, only finding real satisfaction working on new designs alone in his basement. He had seen the destruction his weapons caused and he had made himself a suit of iron to stop it from happening again.
In the library, Angela is between them on the floor, her lips wrapped around Tony’s cock while Bruce fucks her long and slow. But Bruce is not looking at Angela -- he’s looking at the arc reactor in Tony’s chest. “I heard you were injured in Afghanistan,” he says, as calm and collected as if they were in a board room meeting. “I also heard you miniaturized the arc reactor. I didn’t realize they were related.”
“Yeah, it--” A shiver runs up Tony’s spine as Angela moans around him. “It keeps my heart beating and keeps the shrapnel out. The reactor powers an electromagnet.”
“Why don’t you have the shrapnel surgically removed?” Bruce asks, “or a heart transplant?”
There is a long silence, punctuated only by the wet sounds of Angela’s mouth and the slap of flesh against flesh.
***
It has been twenty years since Tony has been to Wayne Manor. Tony pours himself a shot of Scotch as Angela straightens her dress. He can see Bruce zipping up his pants out of the corner of his eye.
Why doesn’t he have the shrapnel surgically removed?
Bruce tells Angela to give Alfred her phone number as she slips out the door to return to the party. He turns and looks at Tony, and for a moment they are two lonely boys again.
“I don’t want to forget,” Tony replies finally. There is a terrible compassion in Bruce’s eyes, and Tony looks away. “I won’t allow myself to forget.”
This entry was originally posted at http://marmolita.dreamwidth.org/582.html. Please comment there using OpenID.