Uncalled for, but the apology is nice. Maybe a little unexpected, but deserved, Bruce thinks, so there. He glances at Tony over his shoulder as he reaches for the samples they'd been working with
( ... )
"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
( ... )
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
( ... )
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."
Stop being adorable. No. Really. Stop being adorable. Tony doesn't think his poor heart can take it.
He slips his fingers away from Bruce's fly for a moment, head dropping back against the pillows. "You're the boss."
Except-- yeah right. Everyone knows that Tony Stark doesn't do well with rules. He doesn't like anything to be on a slow burn. The man lives fast and he lives hard and he is just a child at heart but-- Truth serum. Maybe Tony really will behave. It's hard to really grasp when he's looking up at Bruce with that fish eye or the drunken laziness in the way he moves his hands back to the other man's spine just until one traces its way to his pulse.
Throb. Throb. Mmmm. Beautiful.
Tony leans up to lightly bite into Bruce's shoulder. "I'm not going to behave but I'll try to listen."
Bruce stills, his face tucked against Tony's neck, and he works through this, but really -- it isn't even the bite, though that definitely helps, but the hand at his pulse. He couldn't say why, what it is about it, if it's just Tony's fingers at his neck, which is vulnerable enough. But something about it makes Bruce's control slip for a minute.
Then he's back, determined, moving again as if he hadn't ever had to stop at all.
"Good. Otherwise I might've forgotten who I'm in bed with."
That really is the challenge in all this. The more his blood rushes, the more he wishes he could just have it out with Tony; God knows he wants it enough, has to hold his hips up to stop them from rocking down against Tony's. But -- control. It's vital to maintain control here
( ... )
Tony doesn't have the smooth legs of a woman. He might have a smooth chest -- better that way for the reactor -- but he's still not a woman. He's no where near as hairy as Banner but the telltale signs of masculinity are there and spread out for the other man to see. Tony doesn't think it's really a problem though. He sort of gathered that the slightly shorter man went both ways.
And realistically, there wasn't many people on the planet that didn't. Even if most wouldn't admit to it.
Tony set his thumb on the ridge of the other man's jaw and stroked to his lips. He pressed his nose to the corner of his lips and ghosted a soft kiss there. "Calm down."
A command and a need.
"We have more than all night. I'll order Chinese or pizza if it comes down to it."
He's got this feeling that he's special. Despite his genius, that doesn't come often.
Oh, he is. If Tony weren't special they wouldn't be here. That goes for Bruce's feelings for him -- which are things he hasn't felt since Betty and they're precious to him, okay -- and Tony's nature. He's an idiot superhero with a house that's, like, conscious, and there are SHIELD agents camped out a floor below, and if things go terribly, terribly wrong -- Tony is not Betty. Betty stood no chance. If things start to go wrong here, at least Tony has the chance to run for his suit. That's really why they're here, and why Bruce isn't still sitting on the opposite side of the room
( ... )
"Sweet and sour pork-- You really are completely out of the loop here," he chides softly, lips parting slightly at the little 'love nip' he'd gotten on his thumb. Not fair. Tony's always been very, very fond of the proper usage of teeth in the bedroom and Banner is displaying a high aptitude for either mind reading or simply sharing the sorts of things that make Tony, Tony.
He arches his hips upwards again, but it's not for extra friction.
Tony's just in an awkward angle and he'd really like to lay all the way down now.
His fingers trip invisible rivers over the other man's chest as he tilts his head to the side, those lashes coming more clearly into view as he lowers his upper lids.
"Don't take my methods either. They're patenteded to Stark Industries."
"Afraid once everyone knows the secret, we'll have a world full of Tony Starks?" Impossible. And obviously sweet and sour pork isn't necessary to be seduced by Tony. The pause has been helpful; his watch has been slowing down, anyway.
He gives Tony's thumb another swipe of his tongue and a bite before he moves in to kiss him. Hopefully that'll make the transition of directing Tony back onto the bed a little smoother; Bruce is aware he's in bed with a guy who probably has a lot of fantastic sex, and while Bruce had plenty of that on his own, it was probably of a different caliber and also quite a long time ago now. The last thing he wants to be is disappointing.
"But don't worry. I have enough battles to deal with without taking on your legal team." He smiles, resettling himself on top of Tony, and he chickens out of kissing him again. Something about that is just too intense. And something about lowering his mouth to Tony's chest instead, kissing a slow line across the top of it, isn't? Whatever it takes, Banner.
Tony's not actually one for a lot of kissing. Mouths have better uses in other places, but the way it makes Bruce light up -- literally if one's to take in the realization of the other man's pulse skyrocketting each time they do it -- makes it a disappointment to lose the contact. Tony's fingers press against Bruce's bicep as his arm rings his shoulders.
"I would clean you out of everything, which probably means I'd have to sue myself since most of this is mine--" His chuckle rumbles his chest as Bruce's chin touches the reactor. His eyes fluttered closed.
This feels an incredible amount like worship. Tony can deal with that. He lifts his hands over his head, elbows bent, and watches through his eyelashes as Bruce's mouth roams over his skin.
It is worship. The more Bruce stays away from kissing Tony, which carries with it the powerful realization that he wants Bruce too, the more he can focus on just mapping Tony, learning him and cataloging him the way he's wanted to. He can forget that he maybe should be more aware of how much he's revealing himself here and just not care, or maybe that's a result of him focusing on controlling his heart rate. Bruce is trying not to care about anything right now in general.
So, yes, he's worshipping Tony, and he doesn't care what it looks like. His eyes are shut, and he's relishing this, not that he knows exactly what to do with an arc reactor and no breasts. He figures he can't go wrong with combining teeth with skin, since Tony seems so into that; the biting is, honestly, helping to vent some of the increasing need to do something else, something more than just kiss
( ... )
"It's working just fine. It's been working. Look? See? I'm working great! Everything's in order. Cock, ready to go. You? Yep, you too!" Maybe rolling over to cup Banner's junk isn't letting the other man take the lead but haven't we already established that Tony Stark does not do well being led?
His tongue and lips find Bruce's ear and he sighs heavily against it.
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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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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 ( ... )
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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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He slips his fingers away from Bruce's fly for a moment, head dropping back against the pillows. "You're the boss."
Except-- yeah right. Everyone knows that Tony Stark doesn't do well with rules. He doesn't like anything to be on a slow burn. The man lives fast and he lives hard and he is just a child at heart but-- Truth serum. Maybe Tony really will behave. It's hard to really grasp when he's looking up at Bruce with that fish eye or the drunken laziness in the way he moves his hands back to the other man's spine just until one traces its way to his pulse.
Throb. Throb. Mmmm. Beautiful.
Tony leans up to lightly bite into Bruce's shoulder. "I'm not going to behave but I'll try to listen."
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Bruce stills, his face tucked against Tony's neck, and he works through this, but really -- it isn't even the bite, though that definitely helps, but the hand at his pulse. He couldn't say why, what it is about it, if it's just Tony's fingers at his neck, which is vulnerable enough. But something about it makes Bruce's control slip for a minute.
Then he's back, determined, moving again as if he hadn't ever had to stop at all.
"Good. Otherwise I might've forgotten who I'm in bed with."
That really is the challenge in all this. The more his blood rushes, the more he wishes he could just have it out with Tony; God knows he wants it enough, has to hold his hips up to stop them from rocking down against Tony's. But -- control. It's vital to maintain control here ( ... )
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And realistically, there wasn't many people on the planet that didn't. Even if most wouldn't admit to it.
Tony set his thumb on the ridge of the other man's jaw and stroked to his lips. He pressed his nose to the corner of his lips and ghosted a soft kiss there. "Calm down."
A command and a need.
"We have more than all night. I'll order Chinese or pizza if it comes down to it."
He's got this feeling that he's special. Despite his genius, that doesn't come often.
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He arches his hips upwards again, but it's not for extra friction.
Tony's just in an awkward angle and he'd really like to lay all the way down now.
His fingers trip invisible rivers over the other man's chest as he tilts his head to the side, those lashes coming more clearly into view as he lowers his upper lids.
"Don't take my methods either. They're patenteded to Stark Industries."
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He gives Tony's thumb another swipe of his tongue and a bite before he moves in to kiss him. Hopefully that'll make the transition of directing Tony back onto the bed a little smoother; Bruce is aware he's in bed with a guy who probably has a lot of fantastic sex, and while Bruce had plenty of that on his own, it was probably of a different caliber and also quite a long time ago now. The last thing he wants to be is disappointing.
"But don't worry. I have enough battles to deal with without taking on your legal team." He smiles, resettling himself on top of Tony, and he chickens out of kissing him again. Something about that is just too intense. And something about lowering his mouth to Tony's chest instead, kissing a slow line across the top of it, isn't? Whatever it takes, Banner.
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"I would clean you out of everything, which probably means I'd have to sue myself since most of this is mine--" His chuckle rumbles his chest as Bruce's chin touches the reactor. His eyes fluttered closed.
This feels an incredible amount like worship. Tony can deal with that. He lifts his hands over his head, elbows bent, and watches through his eyelashes as Bruce's mouth roams over his skin.
It's lazy. It's hot.
And man. Did he ever luck out!
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So, yes, he's worshipping Tony, and he doesn't care what it looks like. His eyes are shut, and he's relishing this, not that he knows exactly what to do with an arc reactor and no breasts. He figures he can't go wrong with combining teeth with skin, since Tony seems so into that; the biting is, honestly, helping to vent some of the increasing need to do something else, something more than just kiss ( ... )
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"It's working just fine. It's been working. Look? See? I'm working great! Everything's in order. Cock, ready to go. You? Yep, you too!" Maybe rolling over to cup Banner's junk isn't letting the other man take the lead but haven't we already established that Tony Stark does not do well being led?
His tongue and lips find Bruce's ear and he sighs heavily against it.
"What's the monitor at?"
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