"Is it fixed? I mean, do you know for a fact? Have you done research? It's not in your files and-- Jarvis, note. Update Banner's files." Tony is trying to get some rest. Which explains why he is currently crawling towards the bottom of the bed to slip off the foot and invade Bruce's space.
Pepper has a company to run. She's in Japan for the next few days.
Who else is going to bother them?
And Bruce is a scientist-- Why does he had to try and convince himself? He doesn't. He just knows-- He knows that this is the end of them. But Tony lives for the thrill. This has nothing to do with laying on the wire for his men, it's not like taking the nuke through the vortex.
It's personal. He could very well die. Especially since he knew that an orgasmic heart rate could go from 190 to 210 beats per minute.
Perhaps more. And sometimes pre orgasmic rates could be higher.
It's like he's asking for Bruce to kill him.
It's not fair. But Tony likes it when the odds are against him.
That's why, the moment Bruce looks up, he'll be leaning in for a kiss.
Pointedly, Bruce isn't looking up. He's glad at least this isn't in his file because he doesn't really want to have a sit-down with a SHIELD person claiming to look after his best interest asking him to therapeutically masturbate in the next room for science. And that's what it would be, right? Bruce is working on meditation; he has a better control over the other guy than he's had in the past, and maybe he's swung an orgasm on his own. It's the danger of hurting someone else that stops him from researching any further than that.
He's trying to whittle down the agonizing thought process it took Bruce to reach that point, and he's maybe got a sentence started when he finally looks up and there's Tony, and then there's Tony's mouth.
He doesn't stop him. God help him, and he's sorry, Pepper, but Bruce closes his eyes and kisses Tony back, but it's only for a moment. Then he pulls away, shrinking back in the chair, trying to put physical space between them, but without actually pushing Tony away.
"Nothing good," he admits, quiet only because their lips are still inches apart. He takes Bruce's hand and flips his wrist over to glance at his watch. "One hundred forty-two."
Pretty good for a kiss laced with fear. He likes the spark of it and... And it's fine. For now. There's so much more to do and still the ceiling is no where in sight.
Bruce huffs a broken laugh and closes his eyes. This is bad. This is really, truly, a situation that he needs to remove himself from, and he knows he has the restraint to do it. The trouble is, the longer he restrains himself, the longer he has to stop himself from living the life he wants, the longer that resentment has time to brew. And Bruce has a lot of resentments. Tony's good at prying Bruce away from some of those things he's been refusing, at drawing out some of the bitterness and replacing it with something good and, for once, actually happy.
He isn't sure that's what's happening here, though. But pushing Tony away? Walking out of his room now and maybe, probably, forever? Tony isn't a perfect guy; Bruce has no weird ideas about that, but he does understand Bruce, he pushes Bruce like no one else does, and sometimes (like now) that's really frustrating and aggravating and he hates it. But does he want to lose it?
"And Pepper?" His voice is toneless, his eyes carefully not on Tony. The question is half an agreement already. "We're just going to tell her this was all for science, no big deal?"
"We're not going to tell Pepper any thing. Unless you end up destroying the Tower again and then, yes. It was all for science. It's a big deal, Banner. A very big deal. But the chances are good that it will be just fine. And if it isn't, then we'll deal with it after. I'm good at fixing things. Great really. Probably the best."
Well, that was truth serum at work.
Tony lightly takes the phone from Banner's hands and less than lightly throws it clear over his shoulder.
Great, so he gets to carry on an affair behind the back of someone he likes, while living with them more or less. And he runs the risk of turning into a giant rage monster. Bruce watches Tony throw his phone away, and he's kind of annoyed at that; generally he doesn't give a crap about things he can replace, and he's even less fond of things that can track him, but he'd had a high score at that game. But really, it doesn't matter. It's just a phone, and he and Tony might be throwing away something much bigger than a phone right now.
And maybe this is about science. Maybe this is about Bruce learning how to deal with this part of himself. Who else would want to help him like this but Tony? Fleetingly he has the idea that Tony should put on his suit, and it makes him laugh again, a weak sound that's mostly just air.
He comes back from it nodding slightly, finally looking at Tony.
"For a genius, you're pretty dumb. If this gets too dangerous, it stops. I'm serious." If he killed Tony he'd never forgive himself.
He cups Tony's jaw, brushing his thumb against his cheek, and then he pulls him in for another kiss.
Tony lets him think whatever he wants for a few more seconds, mouth open to enjoy the heat and intensity of Banner's kiss, before he pulls back again, the corner of his lips lifting. "I don't think anything is too dangerous. Just not dangerous or just dangerous enough."
He pulls off his shirt, the arc reactor glowing brightly in his chest, and climbs back up into bed.
Not one part of this is a good idea and that's what makes it feel so right. He's on his elbows, watching Bruce with lidded eyes that must have driven a few thousand of his prior bedmates absolutely crazy to see.
"Jarvis, start document. Title: Project Green. Save to private servers. Banner, what's your BPM?"
He stays still, watching Tony, trying to accept that he's really being this stupid. This selfish. He was selfish a long time ago too -- not that he thought it was selfish at the time, but how much of what he did in that lab was because he thought he was doing something good, and how much was because he believed in the work? He'd like to think he's better than that now, that he's more selfless; he works to be, anyway. But Tony's shirtless, in his bed, looking at Bruce like that, and Bruce wants... God, he wants it.
He will stop them as soon as it becomes too dangerous. He will. Tony may not have a danger limit, but Bruce does, and he's determined he won't violate it. He glances at his watch as he stands up, and he starts unbuttoning his shirt as he approaches the bed.
"144. You can call me Bruce, you know." He drops his shirt on the floor, and, um... sits on the bed? Sure. "I think we're at that point."
"Right, Bruce." It's not that he minds, Tony just doesn't do... First names. Not usually. But he can try. Just like he can wait while Bruce is overly formal with the way he undresses. And sits on the bottom of the bed. Such a child. Nervous.
And hairy. The man's a bear.
Tony's got only one expression for that. Confused.
And that shifts to amused. Which in turn becomes turned on. He's had men here and there. Of course he has. He's tried almost everything. He's just always been more of a 'most masculine dude in bed' sort. It's hard to be when Banner is like the three bears in one.
"I might bite you-- What? Fucking truth serum." It takes all the fun out promising not to!
Yes, Bruce is hairy. Honestly he's fighting off some self-consciousness that he knows is silly because when is he ever not naked for people these days? Still, it's different when it's like this. He's putting himself out there this time, rather than just finding himself here, and though Bruce is used to people judging him, scrutinizing him, it doesn't mean he's gotten fond of it.
At that, he gives Tony a rather impish smile.
"And I might bite back." The way he says it makes it clear that's a guarantee. He glances down at his watch and back up, eyebrows raised, that smile still on his face. It's make like he's confident, or slink off the bed and hide. This is the better option.
"147. If we don't get a move on, the suspense might actually kill you."
"You're the one dragging your feet, Doctor Sass," Tony murmurs, his head tilting back and towards his shoulder. Tony Stark is chiseled. He's small in stature, but his shoulders are wide. His chest is muscled. His arms--
Probably Barton's the only one that might beat him in the arms department. Tony's taken pride in himself. He's trained harder after he'd been found in the Middle East. It shows.
It shows, and Bruce is noticing. He's noticed before through Tony's shirts when Bruce thought he wasn't looking, but he didn't let himself think too hard about it. He feels a little uncool with his own physique, which is in decent shape, but it's more toned than chiseled. Yoga does that to you. Well, Tony doesn't seem to be running away at the sight of him yet.
Bruce laughs again, more out of nerves than anything, and then... he has to do something else, doesn't he? And that something else is looking like he's supposed to climb on top of Tony.
In for a penny, Banner.
He musters up the nerve to straddle Tony's waist, wondering if he looks as awkward as he feels doing it, and he clears his throat once he gets there. Tentatively, he sets his hands on Tony's shoulders.
"Preemptive apology that I'm out of practice," and relatively new to the guy thing. Seriously there are bound to be better sexual partners out there for Tony to find. It's probably just the danger of the other guy that has Tony here at all.
Well... Whatever. Bruce is here, and Tony's waiting for him to do something, so Bruce leans in and kisses him again, keeping his attentions light.
Tony just about gets anything he wants. He's not surprised by Bruce finally clambering on top of him, or the next kiss. Or the way his own hands move from calves to thighs to back to hair that he's pretty sure Banner doesn't cut. Like, ever. There's so much of it. Tony's fingers get lost in it. How the hell--
His thoughts are cut off at Bruce's silly banter over being good at this or not. "Any sex is good sex. Even bad sex."
That's probably not always true. But Tony has never had bad sex.
He's never had sex that might kill him either. Which does make him stop to concidered some things. Like if there's enough lube in the bedside table.
His mouth opens again. Bruce is the scientist. Bruce can lead the charge. But Tony will take over if Banner starts to lose it.
"That sounds like it should be my philosophy, not yours."
No, control is good here; control is better. It means he knows what's coming next, and he can take his time getting there if he needs to. This is a struggle, though; sure, he's a genius, but concentrating hard on keeping his heart rate steady isn't easy to do when his body is offering up all kinds of information about Tony. Like how when Bruce slides a hand back into Tony's hair, there's a little intake of breath, or how Tony's hands can't seem to find a place to settle. Filed under: how Tony Stark behaves in bed.
There goes his watch. Bruce's eyes shut tighter for a moment, but then he relaxes. It's okay that it's beeping; it's still slow, slow enough that he knows he's still in the 150s, and at least this way he knows what he's dealing with. Okay.
He has to abandon the kissing. There's no way he can concentrate nearly as hard as he needs to with Tony's mouth moving against his own. Instead he turns his attention to Tony's neck, which can't respond, and upon which Bruce can kiss and nip according to what thoughts he can spare. He's not talking anymore, and it's clear he's incredibly focused. Not just on Tony, though. Unfortunately.
No, that's fine. Tony likes to be the center of attention but he doesn't have to be. Besides, they have to take care here. It's like working with delicate wiring. One false move and--
Tony's mind blanks. He tilts back his head and Bruce's stubble rubs against him and boom. Melt down. Malfunction. Error. Repair! Mayday! His hands slow. They settle on Bruce's spine. It's all encouragement from here on out. Tony doesn't mind laying back and enjoying.
Far from.
His toes curl delightfully as he shifts his weight under Bruce and friction erupts between them. That's better than good. So much better until the buckle of his trousers catch against him. Tony decides that his belt has to go.
This is maybe going to be okay -- at least Bruce thinks he can keep this up, mouthing along Tony's collar bone, tongue swiping along his Adam's apple; idly touching and kissing with no real goal in mind other than to manage to enjoy himself while he's trying not to... enjoy himself too much. The beeping stays steady, Bruce is already breaking into a sweat from concentrating, but he could keep up what's essentially worship.
Then Tony's belt goes. Bruce's breath hitches and his fingers tighten in Tony's hair and his concentration hiccups. They're not really going to take it that far tonight, are they? If they want to do this right, they need to stagger the exposure, let Bruce master one step before he moves on to the next... And he's definitely thinking about having sex with Tony in very scientific and repeating terms.
"Slow down, cowboy," he murmurs, and he closes his mouth around Tony's earlobe, sucking at it for a moment. "We've got all night."
Pepper has a company to run. She's in Japan for the next few days.
Who else is going to bother them?
And Bruce is a scientist-- Why does he had to try and convince himself? He doesn't. He just knows-- He knows that this is the end of them. But Tony lives for the thrill. This has nothing to do with laying on the wire for his men, it's not like taking the nuke through the vortex.
It's personal. He could very well die. Especially since he knew that an orgasmic heart rate could go from 190 to 210 beats per minute.
Perhaps more. And sometimes pre orgasmic rates could be higher.
It's like he's asking for Bruce to kill him.
It's not fair. But Tony likes it when the odds are against him.
That's why, the moment Bruce looks up, he'll be leaning in for a kiss.
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He's trying to whittle down the agonizing thought process it took Bruce to reach that point, and he's maybe got a sentence started when he finally looks up and there's Tony, and then there's Tony's mouth.
He doesn't stop him. God help him, and he's sorry, Pepper, but Bruce closes his eyes and kisses Tony back, but it's only for a moment. Then he pulls away, shrinking back in the chair, trying to put physical space between them, but without actually pushing Tony away.
"What're you doing, Tony?"
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Pretty good for a kiss laced with fear. He likes the spark of it and... And it's fine. For now. There's so much more to do and still the ceiling is no where in sight.
"Jarvis, delete recording protocols. Initiate level Four-Three-Z lockdowns."
"As you wish, sir."
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He isn't sure that's what's happening here, though. But pushing Tony away? Walking out of his room now and maybe, probably, forever? Tony isn't a perfect guy; Bruce has no weird ideas about that, but he does understand Bruce, he pushes Bruce like no one else does, and sometimes (like now) that's really frustrating and aggravating and he hates it. But does he want to lose it?
"And Pepper?" His voice is toneless, his eyes carefully not on Tony. The question is half an agreement already. "We're just going to tell her this was all for science, no big deal?"
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Well, that was truth serum at work.
Tony lightly takes the phone from Banner's hands and less than lightly throws it clear over his shoulder.
"I'll get you a new one."
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And maybe this is about science. Maybe this is about Bruce learning how to deal with this part of himself. Who else would want to help him like this but Tony? Fleetingly he has the idea that Tony should put on his suit, and it makes him laugh again, a weak sound that's mostly just air.
He comes back from it nodding slightly, finally looking at Tony.
"For a genius, you're pretty dumb. If this gets too dangerous, it stops. I'm serious." If he killed Tony he'd never forgive himself.
He cups Tony's jaw, brushing his thumb against his cheek, and then he pulls him in for another kiss.
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He pulls off his shirt, the arc reactor glowing brightly in his chest, and climbs back up into bed.
Not one part of this is a good idea and that's what makes it feel so right. He's on his elbows, watching Bruce with lidded eyes that must have driven a few thousand of his prior bedmates absolutely crazy to see.
"Jarvis, start document. Title: Project Green. Save to private servers. Banner, what's your BPM?"
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He will stop them as soon as it becomes too dangerous. He will. Tony may not have a danger limit, but Bruce does, and he's determined he won't violate it. He glances at his watch as he stands up, and he starts unbuttoning his shirt as he approaches the bed.
"144. You can call me Bruce, you know." He drops his shirt on the floor, and, um... sits on the bed? Sure. "I think we're at that point."
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And hairy. The man's a bear.
Tony's got only one expression for that. Confused.
And that shifts to amused. Which in turn becomes turned on. He's had men here and there. Of course he has. He's tried almost everything. He's just always been more of a 'most masculine dude in bed' sort. It's hard to be when Banner is like the three bears in one.
"I might bite you-- What? Fucking truth serum." It takes all the fun out promising not to!
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At that, he gives Tony a rather impish smile.
"And I might bite back." The way he says it makes it clear that's a guarantee. He glances down at his watch and back up, eyebrows raised, that smile still on his face. It's make like he's confident, or slink off the bed and hide. This is the better option.
"147. If we don't get a move on, the suspense might actually kill you."
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Probably Barton's the only one that might beat him in the arms department. Tony's taken pride in himself. He's trained harder after he'd been found in the Middle East. It shows.
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Bruce laughs again, more out of nerves than anything, and then... he has to do something else, doesn't he? And that something else is looking like he's supposed to climb on top of Tony.
In for a penny, Banner.
He musters up the nerve to straddle Tony's waist, wondering if he looks as awkward as he feels doing it, and he clears his throat once he gets there. Tentatively, he sets his hands on Tony's shoulders.
"Preemptive apology that I'm out of practice," and relatively new to the guy thing. Seriously there are bound to be better sexual partners out there for Tony to find. It's probably just the danger of the other guy that has Tony here at all.
Well... Whatever. Bruce is here, and Tony's waiting for him to do something, so Bruce leans in and kisses him again, keeping his attentions light.
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His thoughts are cut off at Bruce's silly banter over being good at this or not. "Any sex is good sex. Even bad sex."
That's probably not always true. But Tony has never had bad sex.
He's never had sex that might kill him either. Which does make him stop to concidered some things. Like if there's enough lube in the bedside table.
His mouth opens again. Bruce is the scientist. Bruce can lead the charge. But Tony will take over if Banner starts to lose it.
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No, control is good here; control is better. It means he knows what's coming next, and he can take his time getting there if he needs to. This is a struggle, though; sure, he's a genius, but concentrating hard on keeping his heart rate steady isn't easy to do when his body is offering up all kinds of information about Tony. Like how when Bruce slides a hand back into Tony's hair, there's a little intake of breath, or how Tony's hands can't seem to find a place to settle. Filed under: how Tony Stark behaves in bed.
There goes his watch. Bruce's eyes shut tighter for a moment, but then he relaxes. It's okay that it's beeping; it's still slow, slow enough that he knows he's still in the 150s, and at least this way he knows what he's dealing with. Okay.
He has to abandon the kissing. There's no way he can concentrate nearly as hard as he needs to with Tony's mouth moving against his own. Instead he turns his attention to Tony's neck, which can't respond, and upon which Bruce can kiss and nip according to what thoughts he can spare. He's not talking anymore, and it's clear he's incredibly focused. Not just on Tony, though. Unfortunately.
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Tony's mind blanks. He tilts back his head and Bruce's stubble rubs against him and boom. Melt down. Malfunction. Error. Repair! Mayday! His hands slow. They settle on Bruce's spine. It's all encouragement from here on out. Tony doesn't mind laying back and enjoying.
Far from.
His toes curl delightfully as he shifts his weight under Bruce and friction erupts between them. That's better than good. So much better until the buckle of his trousers catch against him. Tony decides that his belt has to go.
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Then Tony's belt goes. Bruce's breath hitches and his fingers tighten in Tony's hair and his concentration hiccups. They're not really going to take it that far tonight, are they? If they want to do this right, they need to stagger the exposure, let Bruce master one step before he moves on to the next... And he's definitely thinking about having sex with Tony in very scientific and repeating terms.
"Slow down, cowboy," he murmurs, and he closes his mouth around Tony's earlobe, sucking at it for a moment. "We've got all night."
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