starkingenuity | (no subject)

Bruce can remember wanting someone this much. She's the reason he's able to do this with Tony at all, and he's certain that the intensity then had been amped up beyond what he would have been able to summon himself. Whether that wanting and this wanting have much in common is something only someone with a clearer head could tease out of the messy tangle of friendship and loneliness and desire that they're making just then.

And Bruce has absolutely no interest in even trying. He's used up the last of his restraint in the Great Condom Hunt and now he has Tony babbling at him and friction that has him stifling a groan against Tony's shoulder. Raising his eyes to catch a glance the two of them in the mirrors that surround them, he isn't interested in the contrast between Tony's gym physique and his own softer body; he's caught by the way he can steal a look at Tony's expression in a reflection of a reflection.

He doesn't take his eyes off of the mirrors now as he snakes a hand between them to wrap fingers around Tony's shaft and tease at the head with his thumb, watching as he puts his lips near Tony's ear for a rough murmur, "If you can talk this much, it isn't fast enough."

Tony Stark might be the most expressive man alive and Bruce is about to get quite the show of subtle, intricate motions of muscle beneath the man’s face. Tony is a thinker. Everything he does is based on his mind working over time and this is no different. He murmured a heated “I can talk—“ before he’s cut off. The ‘through anything’ portion of it has already been disproven by his own inability to do anything but exhale against the curve of Bruce’s shoulder.

Tony isn’t a young man but he’s not too old that he needs help reaching completion. His mind is utterly relaxed and for the first time in a long time, he’s able to just let go. There are no ideas for grand inventions in his head right now, no attempts at mastering a motivation of another. It’s all silence. Beautiful, pure silence.

And then he’s orgasming as if he’s been shot. His eyes open wide and he collapses into Bruce’s arms with a little laugh that just feels utterly right.

The show is everything he'd been after when he'd taken them well beyond a bit of making out. He watches Tony with an intense need to commit every second to memory. It isn't often anyone gets to shut Tony up.

When Tony collapses, he takes his hand away and wraps both arms around him to hold him while he catches his breath.

It's interesting to note that without Tony's urgency to compound his own, he can relax a little, start to think a little more clearly. What had been building between them had been greater than the sum of its parts, some synergy that has released Bruce to breathe, given him room to wonder whether Tony would disappear if Bruce got up to finish himself off in the shower.

It’s probably strange to have to ask this, but Tony does anyway, fingers slightly hooked in damp chest hair. “Is this where you tell me you’ll be back and finish in the shower?”

He’s not psychic, though this is yet another time he’s seemed to read Bruce’s mind. They just share a similar wavelength. No wonder Kiara had initially chosen Tony Stark to be her host after imprinting on Bruce. There’s a reason for everything. Including this.

Tony’s fingers slip lower, forefinger pressing with a little sass into the shell of Bruce’s navel.

“If I promise to put gloves on, can I help?”

Bruce's eyes widen a little when Tony voices his thought for him, but he dismisses his questioning thought that Kiara has taken Tony over again. She's gone; he knows that with a certainty that he doesn't question any more than he doubts that he'd know if she returned.

He steals a quick kiss and pulls the hot tub's false confidence back around himself. "There are ways you can help that won't require gloves if you don't mind not being directly hands on."

Does FRIDAY bring gloves as well as condoms? Hell, she might.

Of course FRIDAY has gloves. He’s packed a half gallon of hand sanitizer. There’s no way he didn’t pack gloves too.

Tony arches an eyebrow at Bruce, half confused and half intrigued by this new, hands off sort of way to enjoy sex. “Do you like to be watched?” He can get on board with that. He’s a visual guy. Watching is one of those things he lies to do. And he’s been watching Bruce longer than he’s actually known him.

That doesn’t mean that he wouldn’t rather be directly responsible for an orgasm but hey. Things happen. The world isn’t simple. And he’s sorta going maybe steady with a radioactive guy with DNA threatening blood.

The world very definitely isn't simple - their world, this world, any world. Simple isn't really a thing that happens where sentient life sets up shop.

"Hadn't thought about it," he admits with a shrug. "Maybe. I know I liked watching you just now." Score one for the mirrors. "I'd been thinking that I want you to touch me. I can handle this--" He gestures vaguely down between them. "--if you'll handle... well... me." The difference between a regular and a deluxe hand job when you get down to it.

Tony’s already out of the tub. He pauses just on the rim and offers Bruce his hand to help him out. It’s nkthing but chivalrous. And, okay, maybe a little needy to get back into the warmth and to enjoy give Banner the small death he’s been denied for years.

They have to go passed FRIDAY in the suit, just waiting in the doorway, but that’s easy enough for Tony. He’s good at ignoring things. She’s no different.

He already has the shower on a moment later. A few fiddlings with the knobs does the job. He’s a quick learner, especially when he wants to be.

He presses Bruce partially against the wall, chest to his back, mostly soft cock between the curve of his cheeks and thighs. He’ll let Banner take care of most of this and kiss his ears and neck and scratch lightly down his chest and up his thighs—

The scientist won’t want for a touch, that’s for sure.

"I'm going to take that as a yes." He takes Tony's hand and makes a soft sound of complaint when he has to leave behind the warmth and relaxation of the hot tub.

When he edges past FRIDAY in the door, he mutters at the suit, "I don't want you ever bringing this up unless directly asked to by me or Tony. Got that?"

He doesn't wait for her acknowledgment. She'll probably do what he says as long as Tony says nothing to contradict it. He doesn't know her nearly as well as he'd known JARVIS, but he knows Tony and that's enough to inform his thoughts on that.

Thoughts of FRIDAY sink far down his list of things that matter once Tony pulls him into the shower. He tilts his head back, letting it rest on Tony's shoulder as he coaxes himself back to full hardness, keeping the condom on for Tony's safety. What matters most for him is that Tony gives him exactly what he'd asked for.

The orgasm, when it comes, leaves him leaning heavily back against Tony. It doesn't matter what he'd done with Kiara, this is what matters because it's for himself, and a bit for Tony, but mostly for himself. It's liberating, and as far as he's concerned, really counts as the first sex he's had in years.

There’s something wonderful about knowing you’ve been involved with giving another person pleasure that Tony can’t help but grab Bruce’s hips and kiss down his back. The other man might have felt initially that there had been some sort of imbalance in their input versus output equation from earlier but Tony is just content now, fulfilled, and happy to have achieved as much as they had. There was no interruption by a third party that Tony didn’t find all that sexually appealing. There wasn’t any awkwardness.

And he’s just hoping that what happens in Sakaar doesn’t have to stay here.

He lets Bruce handle the mess, and stands back when he’s asked to, but after that, when the soap and suds are washed down the drain, Tony slips one arm crosswise around Bruce’s chest and exhales.

“So it wasn’t just the tub.”

"Not just the tub." He doesn't need to turn around just yet. He can hold Tony's arm against his chest and finish pulling himself back together. "But without it, we'd probably be eating junk food and playing Call of Duty."

That would be a hell of a lot less complicated than where they are now.

"You okay with where we are now?" This is a good question to ask when he can't see Tony's face. They both need to ask themselves that question, and Bruce isn't entirely certain what his answer will be. AFterglow's a hell of a drug, after all.

“Is eating junk food and playing video games off the table now?” Tony asks into the back of Bruce’s shoulder. “Because I thought that was a perk of being with your best friend. It’s not all sex and dinner dates. I want the rest too.” Hes not sure what this is going to bring them. It was stupid to get involved but now they are and it will break Tony’s already fragile and both physically and metaphorically scarred heart if this all ends when they go home.

He can’t let it. This is too important to him. Tony tights his grip around Bruce. It’s only partially unconscious.

“I like where we are now. Best of everything.”

"Definitely not off the table." It's probably on the table more often than sex and dinner dates, because they are who they are. Come to think of it, maybe they are well matched.

"The rest can get pretty messy." For both of them. If Bruce were emotionally whole, he might even be plotting how to run again once they get home because fear of himself and of Hulk has cut him off from relationships for an achingly long time.

He's cut off from anger and most of his fear, but he isn't cut off from that lonely landscape in his soul where he hasn't let anyone walk since he left Betty to give her a chance at a normal life. Is Tony going to fit there? He doesn't know, but just then it feels worth it to try.

Decision made, he nods a little to himself and turns around in the circle of Tony's arm to meet his eyes. "Okay, let's give this a try. Privately. And if the getting naked together part doesn't work out, we get joint custody of the friendship."

“Privately,” Tony can’t but help to agree. He’s not a private person but he can give Bruce this. The whole thing is just weird, inherently, and they really just need to have the time to sort it out a more slowly than Hot Tubpolooza allowed.

He can agree to the friendship too, and nods eagerly. He’s not sure if Bruce just knows he needs to hear that or if he really means it. Either way, Tony is going for the former. He releases his hold on Bruce and reaches behind him to shut off the shower.

“I still kinda want that pizza,” he says. “Or burger. If I promise to keep my hands to myself, can we get some alien fast food before I kick your ass in a game?”

Bruce needs to know that this experiment isn't going to break things between them; he and Tony aren't so very different in that respect. Creating Ultron had put a few cracks in their easy friendship that they're both choosing to overlook for the sake of filling in the empty spaces in their lives. Why not? Their lives are both so fractured that they've had to forget the idea of whole and just put the pieces together into a functional mosaic instead.

"Have you figured out the money problem?" Stepping back, he swipes a hand down his torso to wipe away the water droplets that cling to his chest and body hair. "Since we aren't thieves."

Tony isn't a thief. Bruce? Well, he doesn't have a pressing need to steal today.

“I’m a shrewd business man with a mutilbillion dollar company,” Tony remarks as he dries off and slings a towel around his waist. “I know how to get my money up front before things blow up.” He tosses Bruce a towel and pads out of the bathroom to lay back on the bed. He really doesn’t feel like getting dressed right now, so he decides against it. He’ll just spread out his arms and take up the space Bruce had been sleeping in earlier.

If Tony Stark had a spirit animal, it would absolutely be the cat. He likes small spaces, sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong, and being aloof to nearly everyone.

“On a scale of one to five, how likely do you think this place has a health code?” he yells before he immediately follows that up with telling Bruce not to answer.

He kind of misses New York.

"So what you're telling me is that someone down there is going to want to take their money out of your hide?"

Bruce follows him into the bedroom, still toweling off. "Try to convince them that you're an Asgardian. I think most of the people around here know not to mess with Asgardians. Not all of them are built like Thor."

And he doesn't need to say a word to give Tony an answer to the question he's not supposed to answer. The towel goes over the back of a chair before he flops down on the bed on his stomach, feet dangling off the edge because Tony takes up exactly as much space as anyone who knows him would expect him to.

"I'm gonna suggest you bring a suit along to check the food for you before you give it a try." Besides, they could use the firepower if they need to beat a hasty retreat.

“I’m not going to say I’m Asgardian. Have some human pride, Banner,” Tony jokes, watching the other man beside him. This seems natural. It’s the way that friends behave but also the way that old lovers do, the kind that are so used to each other that some of the things they do might be ugly or unbecoming, but they know their lover won’t notice. Or care. Or will just accept them as a package with all of their flaws.

Tony can only hope.

He sighs up at the ceiling and then gets to his feet. His jeans are... there. And his shirt is there. He’s brought other clothes but he doesn’t seem to mind these other ones. That’s the power of the hot tub.

There’s still a bit of a dreamy look in his eyes.

“FRIDAY can come along on guard duty. And to carry home packages.” He finds the credit stick in his pocket and tosses it at Bruce on the bed. “Come on, old man. Let’s get a little nightlife going here!”

Other than the nudity and the bed, this is comfortably familiar. They could be having similar conversations with Tony taking up an entire couch while Bruce finds a place to shoehorn himself in.

"I don't think human carries the same weight of 'oh shit' that Asgardian does. Since you don't do quiet and unobtrusive, we're probably going to want a certain degree of 'oh shit.'"

He doesn't get up immediately, choosing to roll onto his back first to watch Tony trying to hunt down his clothes. Having a credit stick tossed at him is his cue to fumble-catch it and get up to put his own clothes on.

"So Sakaaran pizza and then back up here for the a night so nerdy we won't want NASA to find out we ruined a lot of human 'firsts,' right?"

Tony ‘shot’ an affirmative at Bruce with his fingers and plopped back down to pull on his boots. “What stays in Sakaar,” he reminded his friend. “For all anyone knows, I’m off being a pathetic drunk in a whorehouse in Thailand trying to win the affections of lady boys.” He makes quick work of the shoelace knots and shuffles back to wait for Banner with a clear look of annoyance on his face.

It’s all for snow. He’s in no real hurry but the world constantly expects him to be and who is Tony but a man that delivers on the abysmal expectations of the world?

Two scientists, fresh from bath time trusts, and a robot being controlled by an AI assistant head down in the elevator not too long after. No one immediately jumps them so that’s got to be a good sign, right?

"No one is ever going to mistake me for a lady boy."

He doesn't waste time getting dressed, dragging clean clothes out of "his" suit to pull on a pair of stretchy pants and a soft gray oxford shirt. His version of ready for the worst.

Not that he has any idea how he'd manage a transformation if that level of emergency comes up, but if it does, and if he does, at least he or Hulk- whichever of them ends up in the green body - can maintain a modicum of modesty.

Sure, not getting immediately mugged is a good sign. Bruce finds himself turning around in the same kind of wonder he remembers from his last (first) outing on the streets of Sakaar, without the mounting terror and Hulk shouting for freedom that had dogged him them.

"Try not to step on anyone," he mutters as he ducks under the arm of a large gray man with three heads. "Some people really don't like that."

The first stall that he finds that looks like it sells food... sells (maybe) food that's still moving. "Not pizza, let's move on."

Not pizza looks like a science experiment and Tony’s been in places where it’s a delicacy to eat things raw and alive (looking at you, Japan). This is beyond the Japanese serving sushi on top of the suffocating fish they’d cut if from, however. This is something more intensely horrifying and interesting. Tony needs to be coaxed away from one stand, and then another, and another.

Bruce probably shouldn’t have to feel like a babysitter (or a substitute nanny), but he probably will by the time he can get Tony something to eat that smells relatively like fast food and isn’t still alive.

By that point, Tony’s already picked up some of the language and has bartered for god knows what to mess with later. He’s a magpie. Shiny pieces of metal attract him.

The sun’s gone down. All of the moons are out. There’s singing and there’s nightlife and Tony suddenly would rather be here then anywhere else.

Especially when he spots the plush Hulk doll.

“Oh. My. God. That’s mine.”

Bruce can eat almost anything but that doesn't mean that he doesn't have preferences, and he's not nearly hungry enough to eat alien creatures that for all he knows could be sentient. At least if it's a dead sentient on a plate, it won't try to communicate with him.

And he can't help but feel somewhat responsible for Tony when he's the reason that Tony's here in the first place. Eventually he just ends up grabbing Tony's belt loop just to keep from being separated from him in the crowds. It's either that or a leash.

And then Tony spots the doll and all Bruce can do is roll his eyes and hand over the credit stick. "You realize it isn't going to fit in a suit to take it home?"

Tony doesn’t need a leash, thank you. He just needs a best friend with benefits that can keep up with him. And who is willing to part ways with money over the most ridiculous things. He does end up shooting Bruce a look, as if the very notion that he can’t take the Hulk rag doll home is abhorrent to him. “These things are mostly air and the suit you wore in is mostly snacks. We just have to eat more.”

Because this is coming home with him one way or another. And he really thinks that they need to market the Hulk a little better back home. Halloween costumes and pajamas are one thing. But dolls?

Why did he never think of that? Especially since, in theory, the Hulk-As-Banner really could be cuddly now.

“For when you’re gone.”

It isn't Bruce's money in the first place, and Tony had been able to talk him into helping create Ultron; he's not going to have much difficulty cajoling Bruce into giving him the credit stick for a Hulk doll, no matter how awful it is.

Maybe he can just "accidentally" forget it when they head back to Earth.

"I've barely even had a chance to be not gone and you're already planning for when I'm gone." He eyes the Hulk doll with all the pleasure and desire to cuddle that he'd give a cobra. "I guess I deserve that."