starkingenuity | (no subject)

“Rogers has super human abilities, but that’s not what’s kept him from being arrested. He’s not run underground and he’s not laying low. There’s a reason they left you alone for seven years. They’re a reason they’re leaving him alone now.” This was not the right stance to take but he doesn’t like to have his work full of holes. It’s a bad habit. It’s a really bad habit.

He leans back in his chair as if he’s suddenly lost all of his bones and his arms dangle uselessly towards his heels.

“I’m not trying to play the saint here. I’m not a saint. I’m not going to try to create more little Banners, especially now that I know they turn out to be tadpoles, but… I don’t want anyone else having you.” Uh. “That sounds more jealous than I am.”

"The tadpoles weren't me, but that's not the point." He's bemused because whatever else he would have felt just isn't there for him. Bemused is as good as it gets. "The point is that just because you own the serum doesn't make me immune from prosecution if some country like South Africa decides that they want someone to be held responsible for what Hulk did. I just need to know who's currently on that waiting list."

He's just looking for facts. He doesn't need anger or fear to drive that pursuit. The need to understand is a factory standard feature for Bruce Banner. No accessorizing required.

He drops his head and looks at the celery stick he's forgotten and takes a decisive bite just to get the damn thing out of his hand.

"I don't think you're trying to be anything but Tony Stark. I told you before that I believe you'd do anything to protect your friends and this looks like part of that, but I'm going to ask you again - why didn't you tell me this years ago when I would have given anything to be normal again?"

Tony snorts, still looking put out. “Possession laws are a lot more stringent than personal ones. Different rules. Different regulations, you know? They can’t hold you legally. What’s to stop them from holding you illegally? Just the UN. Just the World Counsel. It’s all politics.”

Tony sighs and he leans forward. His elbows rest on his knees.

“I thought I was making your life better. I took your tracking contract from Ross. I kept him off of you so you can be free. I didn’t know I... I just wanted to help.”

That’s how he always feels though. He wants to help. And rarely does.

Maybe, Bruce thinks as he listens to Tony, what Tony really needs is someone who can hear him doing a shitty job of explaining bad decisions and not get pissed off at him. His nails scrape audibly in the stubble on his jaw as he scratches there and looks at Tony, saying nothing while he tries to find the reasonable anger that should be there for this situation.

It just isn't there, and this is part of why he'd asked Kiara to put it back. All he's got now is that empty space and tired resignation.

"What's done is done." He shrugs and puts a hand on the table to brace himself as he leans in toward Tony. "But I'm going to give you some advice you'll probably ignore - when you make a choice that's going to impact a friend's life more than yours, don't do it unilaterally. That's how you lose friends." On that Bruce is speaking from experience.

Tony needs someone in his life, period. Patience is important. But so is being redirected to be a good man. He needs everything Bruce is, which is probably asking way too much from a guy who only just got his freedom, but Tony’s never been anything except selfish.

“We weren’t friends,” Tony says. He’s a defensive guy for someone that barely ever apologizes. “You were just this guy I thought was amazing and I wanted them to leave you alone.”

Ah. The guy that gazes from affair. No wonder he’d be so stupidly (and obviously) pleased to finally meet Banner. It had been like meeting a celebrity.

“But—. And I hate to ask this because you’re being really understanding— Why aren’t you pissed off?”

"That excuse works right up until we became friends." The silver lining to not being angry at Tony, apparently, is that he can be implacable without worrying that if he pursues something too far, he'll blow up about it.

That piece of celery is hanging on like a half-eaten ghost. He shoves it in his mouth and uses the time while he chews to consider how to answer the inevitable question. He even holds up a finger in the universal signal of Hang on, I can't talk, my mouth's full.

And apparently he can still be a little bit mean without being angry, because he makes sure that piece of celery is thoroughly masticated before he swallows.

"Pretty sure I mentioned the part about having a substantial portion of my emotional range suppressed. I can't get angry and it seems like a sizable amount of my response to fear is MIA, too." Honestly, it could be pretty scary, but he's not sure. He's covering the uncertainty with practiced calm.

“Yeah,” Tony agrees. “You did.” Wow. This Banner is mean. Or maybe he’s always been mean but still a little funny to try and mellow down the anger? “Being pissed off and being angry aren’t— Okay yes actually. Same thing. But different degrees. I guess you’re just being a little too understanding and...”

Tony’s usually a fast talker, he’s usually witty. He usually gives as good as he takes. But this is a new situation. He’s done a shitty thing. He expects Banner to be angry with him. And he just has never had anyone be so blasé about his short comings before.

This is worrying.

What Bruce could be feeling now might translate into everything else. Including their tabled relationship.

“Okay. Okay. So now you’re just calm. Like all weed all the time?”

"I think all weed all the time would be more like numb." Tony must have missed Natasha's report on their first meeting. He's always had a mean streak, but he's also always been afraid of that part of himself and works to keep it in check -- worked to keep it in check.

"This is more like a 404 error with a redirect back to whatever else I have to work with. I know I should be pissed off at you, but I'm not." Yeah, it's weird to him, too, Tony. "I don't really know what I'm feeling. Anger's been the core component of my OS for as long as I can remember, so I'm not gonna lie, this is weird."

Shit. “I’m going to be mad at me for you,” he promises, which sounds as silly as it all feels. He is mad at himself but that’s a constant thing. He’s always mad at himself for something. Why not this too? “I should have... I feel like if I would have...”

Tony stands and rubs a hand over his mouth before he sets his hands on his hips. How can he go from excited and manic to mellow and flirty to jealous and annoyed to outright angry and guilty in the span of just a few hours?

He needs to win an award for the emotional gambit he’s putting himself through.

“I’m sorry. For all of this. And I’m not going to ignore you. Not when you’re right.” This is what Steve told him.

He doesn’t always know best.

None of them always know best. That was supposed to be the point of a team. It seems like they'd all done their parts to fuck that up, too.

Except Thor. Who knew Thor was going to end up being the stable, responsible one? And he's a little too busy being the king of a homeless nation to be an Avenger.

"You're always mad at yourself." Bruce isn't sure he can recommend this particular cure for that one, even after getting the infodump from Tony back at the mansion. "I don't need to outsource my anger when all it's going to do is add to the load you're already--" --buckling under-- "--carrying."

Tony's does mood swings with the same energy he attacks everything. Even from Bruce's muted standpoint, it's kind of exhausting.

He manages a bit of a smile and raises his eyebrows. "Are all your vacations this stressful?"

“I don’t remember the last time I had a vacation. Life went from always vacation to never vacation right about the time I lost you.” It’s a lot to put on someone and this is a defensive mechanism, little more. He’s trying to be combative and to be sympathetic at the same time. Tony is a likeable sort of guy until his extreme lack of social graces come through the bullshit charm he throws out.

It takes a special sort of person to want to be with him in any capacity. Happy is neurotic. Pepper only wanted to be needed. Peter wants someone smart enough to understand him to be proud of him. Rhodey’s grown used to him out of necessity.

So where does this leave Bruce? Because right now he’s got everything he wants. Sure, his bodily fluids are still radioactive but he’s not a danger anymore. And he’ll never be his father with explosive anger issues. He doesn’t need Tony Stark because there’s no need for anyone to be afraid of him anymore. Tony no longer offers that unique perspective in his life.

“Maybe we should just take apart the hot tub and go home.”

Tony's a bit of an idiot. If he weren't, he'd be unbearable. Who did Bruce try to come see first after getting back to Earth? Was it Steve? Natasha? Even Betty?

No. It was Tony.

He glances toward the other room and back to Tony and ventures a half smile. "Maybe we should go get in that hot tub to test whether it has the same effect as the one downstairs. For science. Then we can think about going home." Or maybe Tony's mood will swing in a more positive direction.

There’s really not a whole lot of positive right now, if only because he felt badly about literally everything. That’s not his fault. That’s his dad’s doing.

“How can I say no to you?” he asks, looking a little bit like a sad puppy dog who hopes that his best friend really won’t come to his senses and hate him for life. He motions with his head before his body follows suit and he shuffles towards the general area FRIDAY had indicated the bathroom to be.

Yeah. The Grandmaster even did this right. Mirrors everywhere (of course). The tub was sunken and filled with water already. FRIDAY had guessed (correctly) that her Boss would want to to partake.

He’s pretty slow about his undressing... which is a blessing a curse. It’s not like Bruce hasn’t seen him before, but every angle at once? It’s got to be a dream for a guy that prefers to look at people in mirrors.

"I'm hoping you won't."

The way Tony dawdles is a blessing only once Bruce has stripped and gotten into the water, which he does as expeditiously as possible, in part to avoid having any bruises on display for any longer than he has to. Kiara's body had been strong, and her control had been rough, particularly when they'd first gotten started.

Once he's in the water, caring about bruises fades pretty quickly, and he slides down and watches Tony in the mirrors, letting his eyes skim from one mirror to another, from one angle to another. There's something particularly charming about the curve of his back just above his ass where it looks like Bruce's hand would rest perfectly.

It's entirely likely that this is a terrible idea, but Bruce isn't afraid, and that's something that should make most people outside this room afraid in his stead.

Tony’s never been afraid of Bruce. He’s never been afraid of the Hulk. His own mind scares him so much more than anything else could. And that includes green rage monsters. He’s not thinking of that or of the severe lack of emotion that Bruce has been cut off from as he joins his friend in the tub. The lights dim automatically, sensing all living beings having entered the water. It bubbles nicely around their chests before a faint pink glow of underwater lighting makes Tony laugh.

He’s almost instantly relaxed, feeling just as good as he had before. He’s mellow. Chill. And he can see that this is probably a device that can (and did) get addicting really quickly.

He moves to the opposite edge of the tub, watching the flick of Banner’s eyes on everything but the Tony in the flesh. And that makes him laugh too.

“All those cards are still on the table. Including the one that lets you look at me if you want to.”

"I was looking at you." No apology needed, and there isn't one in his tone, just a frank admission from a guy who's no more immune to the hot tub's influence than Tony is. "The mirrors gave me more viewing options before this room turned into a Vegas love hotel." Not a cheap one, mind you.

Sliding down until the water's just under his chin, he lets his legs stretch out and nudge Tony's knees. "I wonder if the water's a necessary component or if we've just missed a control that would extend this effect to the bedroom."

It might be a problem if there's something like this for the bed. They might never make it out of bed or off of Sakaar.

Tony’s hand slides along the top of Bruce’s foot to his ankle and then continues upward, drawing his arm and Tony himself with it. He can’t fight it, Bruce. It’s all attached to him! And sometimes hands have a life of their own! Drawing closer, though his hand does stop at Bruce’s knee, shoulders like islands above the water, Tony arches an eyebrow.

“This is a scientific experiment. We should check all the options. Know where the drain is?”

It will be a shame to lose this warmth, these feelings, but Tony doesn’t need sexy vibrations to want to touch Bruce.

Tony's got one of his knees; Bruce hooks his opposite leg around his back to draw him a little closer. "In the interest of experimentation, we have to replicate our findings from the other hot tub, not jump directly to new data." It's the scientific method, Tony, roll with it.

"You aren't in that big of a hurry to get out of the water, are you?"

“I’m always in a hurry. That’s why I deactivate safety protocols and self experiment.” Bruce can understand that. They have the same sort of carefree attitude when it comes to messing with science. “But if you’ve got a thing for going by the book, we can try it your way.”

He doesn’t tell the much hairier man that there was no leg play involved. Or that Bruce’s tugging is reminiscent of the bed and not the bath. It’s not that important to Tony to replicate their last experiment exactly.

Besides. No two kisses are alike. The last one (the first one?) had been sweet and tender and only edged into needy desperation during round two. This kiss cuts right to the chase. Warm, wet skin mirrors warm, wet lips. Tony takes no prisoners.

He’s giving as good as he’d gotten before. Mostly because he can’t just let Bruce win the battle of the aggressor.

Yes, the "safety is for other people" approach to science had served them both... not so well, to be honest. Did either of them learn from it?

No, not really. Why else are they in this tub?

For this kiss, apparently. Bruce has enough time to register that Tony's on his way, and enough time to bring an arm up around his back to keep the waves from Tony's sudden movement from tugging them apart, then there's more sensation than calculation. He's aware of the prickle of facial hair and the occasional graze of Tony's teeth. He might not win the battle of the aggressor, but he doesn't have to; he has patience on his side, and it's a patience that could keep them in this hot tub for hours, just for the taste of Tony's mouth and the chance to wrap his arms around Tony and pull him in closer.

Probably right about now a rational scientist who is actually using this tub for science might call a time out and wonder why the intimacy (to this degree) only has happened here. Tony and Bruce have been in bed together, have touched and have cuddled. But that is platonic, not sexual. That was nothing like this. Surely they ought to step back and decide if the properties of the tub are what is causing this explosion of passion.

It’s not as simple as Tony keeps thinking. Wanting Bruce has always been more intellectual than physical. He’s flirted and made innuendos with Bruce for awhile not but always without this next step.

Could the hot tub be allowing them to drop their inhibitions?

Tony presses a hand to Bruce’s hip, fingers pressing a little more roughly than before as he presses between his legs. That hasn’t been his idea. Bruce started that one. He just aims to finish it.

“Never thought I’d dig the professor type,” he murmurs between trying to breath and kiss at the same time. “But it really works for you.” And it’s working for Tony too. The guy really goes against his physical type but obviously that’s no problem. Even if he’s not tall and blond.

If the hot tub is letting them drop their inhibitions, that's one thing and at least today Bruce can live with it; if it's instilling feelings they don't have outside the hot tub, that's another, far more troubling matter. He wants to be wanted, but not just for his genetic material or for Hulk or because an alien hot tub has flipped the switches on their libidos and Bruce has a lot of pent up libido. Both he and Tony deserve better than that.

He's not really thinking about what he and Tony deserve. He finally gets to smooth his hand down Tony's back until his hand fits perfectly into the curve just above his ass that he'd been admiring before Tony got in the tub.

But that first physical jolt of want that hits him when Tony brings their bodies together pulls at cautions and precautions and habits that even the hot tub and his abbreviated emotional range can't quite nullify.

The very last thing that Tony needs is to be in a hot tub with Bruce and his body fluids. Murder by orgasm isn't something he ever wants to get out the red pen for in order to write it in his ledger.

"Tony." He's not quite getting the effect he's after when he can't quite seem to drag himself away from kissing. "Tony, hold up. We need to..." Stop. They needed to stop.

[End of the month bullshit.

“Huh?” Stop? Stop is not the sort of thing that Tony wants to hear right now and his brain doesn’t even manage to connect it as a word he’s capable of understanding. Not when his nails scratch through dark hair and his body comes in contact with—

Oh. Okay. That’s not good.

“Please tell me you have a condom?” Hes not suggesting that they fuck, not exactly, but he is suggesting that they stay safe. Bruce’s semen isn’t exactly safe to handle and who knows if he might leak a little during foreplay?

[Ugh, my condolences.]

Stop is absolutely not what Bruce wants to say right now. It's all he can do to straighten the leg that he'd wrapped around Tony to pull him in and try to plant his foot on the floor of the hot tub. That still leaves them wonderfully-- exceedingly-- excessively close.

Tony manages to hit right at the heart of their current conundrum, even high on whatever they're both high on. "Why would I have a condom?" He catches Tony's lower lip with his teeth and has to forcibly tell himself to let go. "Tell me you have one."

Edited (because I can't spell) 2017-12-29 04:53 (UTC)

Letting go of his lip is only important to facilitate talking but Tony honestly has no interest in that for the moment. He knows how that might sound. Him. Not wanting to talk? The world must be ending.

“FRIDAY—?”

“Never leave home without one, Boss,” the AI says helpfully from outside of the bathroom (scary) and Tony drags himself out of the water to go and get it. He drips everywhere.

But hey. At least he can say that he’s absolutely, definitely, one hundred percent still interested in what’s going on between him and Bruce!

“Is this going to work?” Could one little condom keep him from getting cancer? And does he care right now?