“You said planet.. By what definition is Enceladus a planet?! None. If you want to reach out to moons, maybe. We could probably focus on Europa too. Make it like SeaQuest.” This nonsense talk about colonozing other worlds is at least calming to the engineer. He doesn’t sound so shrill anymore and if he keeps his eyes on the hot professor, he doesn’t have to worry about what he looks like.
The scar on his chest is still there, though, as are the scars on his back from where Loki had thrown him through the Tower window. Chronical time hasn’t shifted backwards, just age.
The Kardashians would be all over asparagus jizz in a heartbeat.
"Mars, then, if you want to talk in-system planets. Throwing out Jupiter was just you being argumentative because that's got to be one of the least hospitable to human life planets in our solar system."
He knows that Tony sees what he sees and that his mind has to be going a thousand miles a second trying to get a handle on it. He also fully understands the tactic of distracting part of an overactive brain to split computing power and keep it from just shutting down.
Then again, he has an advantage over Tony in this situation, considering most of his own fear is in time out with his anger.
He reaches out to touch that scar and looks from there back up to Tony's too-young face. "If word of this gets out, the Earth's policy on alien immigration may be driven by the beauty industry."
Tony’s not the type to blush, but he does right now, heart pounding in his chest. His body, this body, isn’t used to feeling touches like this anymore. His skin has turned more elastic, more supple, capable of holding more moisture, and it’s also revived much of the touch receptors that had died away as youth once had too. He can’t help but respond to Banner, to the naked guy with full, kissable lips and knowing, capable hands standing in front of him.
He swallows and turns too big eyes away from the other man, placing an uncalloused (so strange!) around Bruce’s wrist.
“So you’re saying we need to colonize Mars immediately so we can move there?” It’s a romantic thought, Stark and Banner against the world. It’s the reason they’re here together in the first place. Tony’s decided that he doesn’t need anyone else, ever, in his life. And that’s rash. Stupid. He knows. He’s just used to moving quickly with the things (and people) he wants.
He’s wanted Banner for the better part of a decade, before he ever met him, and it’s worse now.
"What you're hearing is that we need to colonize Mars immediately. I'm saying we need to colonize across the galaxy as a start." Tony's thinking romance; Bruce is still thinking practicality. He's never been good at this romance thing.
In the past day or two Bruce has had sex with both an alien and Tony and had tadpoles with one of them, has had a sizable component of his most used emotions locked in a cage, has been thrown off the top of a skyscraper, has been big and green and fully cognizant of himself after hitting the ground after that toss, has been high as giraffe genitals at least twice, has been covered in alien pollination, and now has lost a couple of decades of wear and tear. All on an alien planet he somehow thought it would be smart to visit for a break.
He's just beyond his saturation point. He has little left beyond a dry laugh for Tony's observation.
"Maybe. Probably. But that was true even before we came here." He flattens his hand out on Tony's chest, feeling the strong beat of his heart as a light vibration under his palm. "The first thing we should find out is whether this is temporary, which means trying to find some of those horny asparagus."
There’s no such thing as practicality when it comes to Tony. He doesn’t believe in it. He believes in getting what he wants and making what he has to in order to get it. He’s a solver of problems usually, but he’s having his trouble decompressing these few moments so that he can see the big picture. The big picture is too big to comprehend and he can’t zoom out any further.
Bruce’s hand on his chest is calming at least and Tony tries to match his breathing with a man who has perfected the art of staying cool in any situation.
“Asparagus. Right. I remember where that show was,” he says, thanking his memory, before Bruce’s dark eyes distract him. “But. Does that have to be the first thing...?”
Up goes his eyebrows. He might look like a kid but he’s still Tony.
If they were both as practical as Bruce, they wouldn't be on Sakaar. If they were both as impetuous as Tony, they'd probably hate each other. They have a balance that usually works.
Could he say this is balanced? Neither of them is teetering into an abyss, so call that a yes.
The question, though... He's smiling before he can think of any reasons to say no. The first part of his answer is the slide away from the center of Tony's chest, brushing a thumb over his nipple before sliding around his back to pull him closer.
Biting his lip (that might be the sexiest thing anyone could ever do), Tony lifts his eyes again and once he steadies himself from that more than slightly aggressive tug and the resulting gasp that escaped his throat, shakes his head. “I probably have something else tight,” he grins, just perverted enough to make anyone roll their eyes and maybe chuckle too.
He lifts his arms up to set his hands on Bruce’s bare shoulders. His fingertips trace the outline of his muscles before he closes his eyes to get a kiss he rightly deserves.
How can he be held responsible?
Bruce had always been his own brand of gorgeous but now he’s got that extra sexiness that Tony can’t get away from.
It's worth both an eye-roll and a huff of amusement through his nose. "That was terrible."
Terrible, but still deserving of a kiss. Funny that his mind hasn't been affected that he can tell, but his body... Let's just say that standing naked with Tony held in his arms is getting a faster reaction from him than he's had in, well, twenty years or so?
"Terrible." He pauses for another leisurely kiss, barely needing to tilt his head up to bring their lips together before leaning in to ask in a low, rough murmur, "You need to work out whether I'm fitting you in or you're showing me what else you have that's tight."
He isn't certain he wants to go either route, but the tease... oh the tease... That's where the fun lies.
So the fun also lies in banging each other. Bruce might only remember what it has been like to do Kiara and he might have never been with a man (it just hasn’t come up in conversation), but he probably can agree that sex is usually pretty fun.
Tony shifts his hips suggestively. “So me in You is probably safer but you in me is absolutely negotiable.”
Sex is generally very fun. At least it is as he remembers it, and it's been fun so far with Tony. Keeping that calm upper hand isn't as easy when Tony returns the tease, though. They're fairly equally matched intellectually and have separate strengths as Avengers, but when it comes to sexual experience, Bruce is way out of his league.
"Uh... yeah." He briefly gnaws on his lower lip and leans back enough to see Tony's expression. "Never done that before." But he's absolutely not interested in ruining their already bizarre alien vacation with a broken condom. "How patient are you feeling?"
Shocker. Tony looks bemused, mostly because he isn’t sure why the other man would question his patience. Can Tony be patient? Not likely. It’s probably one characteristic he has almost nothing of within him. The look Bruce offers in return, hope (or he just reading into that), makes Tony bite his lip again.
His friend is asking honestly if Tony can try to piece together enough scattered fragments of patience (maybe for how long it takes to make coffee and diagnostic searches) to give him just a little bit of the patience he just doesn’t have in one lump sum.
It’s sweet. And maybe a little terrifying. Tony doesn’t often change himself for anyone.
His nod is slow. Purposeful. “I... yeah. I can be as patient as you need me to be.” And that’s not just a lie to get laid.
Bruce is asking for the kind of patience that Tony has when he's waiting for FRIDAY to finish diagnostics on a suit, the kind where he can wait as long as he has something else to do in the meantime. He fully intends to keep Tony occupied in the lead-up, but that verbal commitment from Tony is absolutely necessary.
"I... might find out it's not really my thing." This is the hardest part of what they're trying together. The intimacy, the time together, nudity and making out, they've come pretty easily, but finding where sex works is complicated for more reasons than that the best case scenario for an accident with Bruce's body fluids is Tony getting very sick.
Trying to lighten the mood now that they've gotten that detail out of the way, he drops a hand to give Tony's ass a squeeze. "If it isn't my thing, we'll get creative."
“If it isn’t your thing, we can always just go back to being platonic genius husbands,” Tony insists with the same sort of bravado that guys tell the people they’re trying to bed every single day. It’s true that Tony will let Bruce go if that’s what Bruce wants but it’s jjst as true that it simply can’t be the same for him.
Tony Stark isn’t the playboy he used to be. Loving Pepper did him a disservice on that end. He wants commitment. He wants love. And that’s not guarenteed here.
The ass grab launches Tony into another sloppy kiss, jubilant and youthful in a way, and he wastes no time drawing his hands down the smooth skin of Bruce’s back.
“But I know how to make it your thing. If you can just promise that you’ll try to relax.”
"I didn't say we had to go back to platonic." He uses his hold on Tony's ass to pull him in, giving a suggestive roll of his hips against him to demonstrate that there are at least some things about Tony that are his thing. His body might be younger, but his mind isn't, and he wouldn't be getting hard if he weren't enjoying some of the physicality.
Kissing Tony like this is strangely different. Is it the enthusiasm or the subtle differences in his body? He doesn't know, and doesn't really care just then.
He takes a shuffling step backward toward the bathroom door, not letting Tony go as he moves. "I think I might know one or two tricks for relaxation."
“Is that a fact? Maybe you should teach me sometime. I’ve been told that I don’t know how.” It’s not true. Get enough alcohol in him and he’ll relax, inwardly at least, enough to let him be able to function in more socially acceptable ways until he tips over from enough to too much and blows up his own house. Being Tony Stark requires a delicate balance of volatile substances.
Bruce himself is his own brand of volatile and with him comes its own sets of challenges that Tony has once again failed to write any sort of safety protocols for. Not that it would matter. Tony doesn’t really do safety protocols.
What he does do is tempt fate and somehow crawl out the other side.
He’s hoping fate will be kinder today than it has in the last few days. It’s been so crazy here. No wonder the residents are Sakaar are so blood thirsty. Living here might do the same to both men here.
Closer to the bed, Tony give Bruce a push to either knock him back or to get the picture that he’s supposed to go that way. He’s got no worry about finding lube at least. From what he’s learned about the guy whose home this used to be, he had a large share of stocks in it. But here’s where Tony’s patience is going to shine. He needs to do more than reach for the stuff to slick himself up. He wants to be part of Bruce’s relaxation technique too.
[So sorry for the absenteeism. We go away on vacation tomorrow (for a week) and we have been trying to get ready for that. My tagging is going to be awful until next Monday but I’ll try to get at least one or two in a day! I think we get WiFi on the plane.]
From Bruce's experience of Tony, it's possible to get him to relax without alcohol, but it requires throwing out enough challenges to his intellect that his neuroses can't find a way through to catch his attention. It ain't easy.
Knowing that, he shakes his head and gives an affectionate snort. "I'd have to nail you to the floor and you still wouldn't meditate."
The push sends him back and he doesn't try to keep his balance when the bed catches him behind the knees, just catches himself on one hand and scoots to get entirely up on the bed. "Looks like you just volunteered to go get condoms from FRIDAY."
If Tony plays his cards right, he might even get a bit of a show from Bruce, idly touching himself while he waits for Tony to join him.
[No worries! Have a great vacation and a safe trip!]
[Back now! We had such miserable cell reception. But it was super fun!]
Oh, Tony never worries about how he plays his cards. The guy exudes luck the way everyone else swears. The fact that he’s lived this long through this much crazy proves it. He wasn’t just born with a silver spoon in his mouth, he’s never had the decency to spit it out.
It takes him a minute to find another condom, to find some lube, and to find his footing back to Bruce and he is not disappointed when he steps back through the doorway.
Yikes. Bruce has always had a magnetism about him, but whatever that asparagus jizz did to them both has the younger looking professor just gorgeous. Tony groans and he’s not even touching himself. He’s pretty sure he could come if he stared too long.
“Hey-Hey. Hands off while the ball’s not in play.” He tosses the lube on the bed and half pounces on Banner. He can’t help it. He’ll die if he doesn’t kiss him.
[The important part is the having fun part anyway! Welcome back!]
Now is not the time for either of them to consider the inevitability of luck running out. Now is the time to enjoy the luck while it lasts.
Once upon a time Bruce had had a long-term partner and a healthy sex life. He's incredibly rusty at this stage in the game, but he's hardly a blushing virgin, and with fear largely on vacation, he has no reason not to try everything at least once to decide if he likes it.
He's already reaching for Tony to pull him in, laughing a little, a little high just on the desire that Tony can't hide or fake. No matter how oblivious he might be to how someone feels about him, he can't miss this.
"I was keeping the balls in play." Tony deserves that after his earlier remark.
He hooks a leg behind Tony's, wraps arms around him, and raises his head to meet him for a hard kiss. Sakaar has been insane, this is probably insane, but just then this beautiful, damaged, brilliant man is his.
Tony has every intention of being a gentlemen. He might be broken but he’s not always a total screw up and Bruce could probably use a waltz or some slow jazz when it comes to this particular dance instead of twerking or hip hop. He’s got to be rusty. Making it with an alien for the tadpoles doesn’t exactly get you up to gear and certainly isn’t a preparatory course for the sort of tango Tony is going to insist on.
That said, his hands and mouth are a good distraction. He bags and tags them both without much effort at all, shifting his body when needed to clear space for clever fingers. It’s a little more difficult to surprise-finger someone though. Thigh muscles are a difficult barrier and there’s no way Tony can just slip his ring finger in without Bruce being very aware of the situation.
Which is where Tony’s mouth comes in. He’s not ready to risk jaw cancer like those poor watch girls that used to paint glow in the dark numbers on the faces with radon laden paint. But Bruce does have two good ears and two nipples just begging for a little biting while he tries to tease-attack an area he’s very interested in getting himself into.
No matter how long this thing between them remains a thing, it's going to be complicated. By Tony's issues, by Bruce's issues, by the world around them.
But just then, Bruce doesn't care. He can appreciate being the center of Tony's attention, more than that, he can revel in it. Kiara had done him a favor by suppressing his anger, but she'd flipped his world on its head by suppressing his fear.
He's doing pretty well for all of the sensory overload that Tony's bringing, he even gets his knees parted without much in the way of self-consciousness, but attacks, teasing or otherwise, finally have him grabbing Tony's wrist and mumbling, "Little intense. Just... yellow light? Slow it down?"
[ooc: My turn to be sorry for delays. Things are going to be hectic at work for a while.]
[Thats Okay! I’ll be happy for a tag when it comes!]
See, Tony had been going slow. This is slow! It’s almost like a glacier in the total amount of slowness he’s forcing upon himself! The truth of the matter is that patience and Tony Stark mix just a little better than oil and water do and he’s having trouble maintaining the level of patience he’s been chugging along at since Bruce returned the kiss in the hot tub.
Yellow, he reminds himself, is not red, however. This isn’t full stop and it’s not reverse. Bruce just needs more coaxing, like a stubborn lug nut, slightly rusted and stripped.
Tony let’s go of his forward momentum, for the moment, and propped his head up on the hand that hadn’t been trying to hit pay dirt sooner rather than later.
“There’s not a whole lot more I can do to release the throttle,” he says, and that’s not being pushy. Just honest. “Any less pressure and the ship slows to a halt. I’m not trying to push you into anything, all right, but I don’t have anything smaller than my pinkie.” Tony smirks, lovely, huge brown eyes filled with mirth. “I’m cool with going back to making out and dry humping though before we figure out how to reverse Freaky Friday us back to normal.”
Yellow isn't red and Bruce is aware that Tony and patience have really only had passing acquaintance in his life. Ordinarily Bruce can be patient enough for both of them, but he doesn't ordinarily have Tony making inroads where no man has gone before.
He laughs just a little and reaches up to thread his fingers in Tony's hair and pull him down for a hard kiss, determined to make it clear that he's not backing out or losing his nerve, only letting Tony go when he's certain his point has been made.
"We're doing this while we're both enjoying the refractory periods of twenty-somethings. If we both like it, we're gonna do it again before getting to the reverse Freaky Fridaying." His hand slides out of Tony's hair, trails down his back, and ends up resting on the swell of his ass. "You work on keeping it slow and I'll work on remembering that I don't need to put on the brakes."
Habit's a bitch, and the habit of celibacy is a deeply ingrained one.
[ooc: Apologies for taking so long! Didn't expect to get hit so hard by the time of year.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
starkingenuity) wrote2017-12-11 08:12 am
no subject
The scar on his chest is still there, though, as are the scars on his back from where Loki had thrown him through the Tower window. Chronical time hasn’t shifted backwards, just age.
The Kardashians would be all over asparagus jizz in a heartbeat.
no subject
He knows that Tony sees what he sees and that his mind has to be going a thousand miles a second trying to get a handle on it. He also fully understands the tactic of distracting part of an overactive brain to split computing power and keep it from just shutting down.
Then again, he has an advantage over Tony in this situation, considering most of his own fear is in time out with his anger.
He reaches out to touch that scar and looks from there back up to Tony's too-young face. "If word of this gets out, the Earth's policy on alien immigration may be driven by the beauty industry."
no subject
He swallows and turns too big eyes away from the other man, placing an uncalloused (so strange!) around Bruce’s wrist.
“So you’re saying we need to colonize Mars immediately so we can move there?” It’s a romantic thought, Stark and Banner against the world. It’s the reason they’re here together in the first place. Tony’s decided that he doesn’t need anyone else, ever, in his life. And that’s rash. Stupid. He knows. He’s just used to moving quickly with the things (and people) he wants.
He’s wanted Banner for the better part of a decade, before he ever met him, and it’s worse now.
“We’re so screwed.”
no subject
In the past day or two Bruce has had sex with both an alien and Tony and had tadpoles with one of them, has had a sizable component of his most used emotions locked in a cage, has been thrown off the top of a skyscraper, has been big and green and fully cognizant of himself after hitting the ground after that toss, has been high as giraffe genitals at least twice, has been covered in alien pollination, and now has lost a couple of decades of wear and tear. All on an alien planet he somehow thought it would be smart to visit for a break.
He's just beyond his saturation point. He has little left beyond a dry laugh for Tony's observation.
"Maybe. Probably. But that was true even before we came here." He flattens his hand out on Tony's chest, feeling the strong beat of his heart as a light vibration under his palm. "The first thing we should find out is whether this is temporary, which means trying to find some of those horny asparagus."
no subject
Bruce’s hand on his chest is calming at least and Tony tries to match his breathing with a man who has perfected the art of staying cool in any situation.
“Asparagus. Right. I remember where that show was,” he says, thanking his memory, before Bruce’s dark eyes distract him. “But. Does that have to be the first thing...?”
Up goes his eyebrows. He might look like a kid but he’s still Tony.
no subject
Could he say this is balanced? Neither of them is teetering into an abyss, so call that a yes.
The question, though... He's smiling before he can think of any reasons to say no. The first part of his answer is the slide away from the center of Tony's chest, brushing a thumb over his nipple before sliding around his back to pull him closer.
"Are we on a tight schedule?"
no subject
He lifts his arms up to set his hands on Bruce’s bare shoulders. His fingertips trace the outline of his muscles before he closes his eyes to get a kiss he rightly deserves.
How can he be held responsible?
Bruce had always been his own brand of gorgeous but now he’s got that extra sexiness that Tony can’t get away from.
“Can you fit me in, Doctor Banner?”
no subject
Terrible, but still deserving of a kiss. Funny that his mind hasn't been affected that he can tell, but his body... Let's just say that standing naked with Tony held in his arms is getting a faster reaction from him than he's had in, well, twenty years or so?
"Terrible." He pauses for another leisurely kiss, barely needing to tilt his head up to bring their lips together before leaning in to ask in a low, rough murmur, "You need to work out whether I'm fitting you in or you're showing me what else you have that's tight."
He isn't certain he wants to go either route, but the tease... oh the tease... That's where the fun lies.
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Tony shifts his hips suggestively. “So me in You is probably safer but you in me is absolutely negotiable.”
He’s already got it figured out. Backfire!
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"Uh... yeah." He briefly gnaws on his lower lip and leans back enough to see Tony's expression. "Never done that before." But he's absolutely not interested in ruining their already bizarre alien vacation with a broken condom. "How patient are you feeling?"
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His friend is asking honestly if Tony can try to piece together enough scattered fragments of patience (maybe for how long it takes to make coffee and diagnostic searches) to give him just a little bit of the patience he just doesn’t have in one lump sum.
It’s sweet. And maybe a little terrifying. Tony doesn’t often change himself for anyone.
His nod is slow. Purposeful. “I... yeah. I can be as patient as you need me to be.” And that’s not just a lie to get laid.
no subject
"I... might find out it's not really my thing." This is the hardest part of what they're trying together. The intimacy, the time together, nudity and making out, they've come pretty easily, but finding where sex works is complicated for more reasons than that the best case scenario for an accident with Bruce's body fluids is Tony getting very sick.
Trying to lighten the mood now that they've gotten that detail out of the way, he drops a hand to give Tony's ass a squeeze. "If it isn't my thing, we'll get creative."
no subject
Tony Stark isn’t the playboy he used to be. Loving Pepper did him a disservice on that end. He wants commitment. He wants love. And that’s not guarenteed here.
The ass grab launches Tony into another sloppy kiss, jubilant and youthful in a way, and he wastes no time drawing his hands down the smooth skin of Bruce’s back.
“But I know how to make it your thing. If you can just promise that you’ll try to relax.”
no subject
Kissing Tony like this is strangely different. Is it the enthusiasm or the subtle differences in his body? He doesn't know, and doesn't really care just then.
He takes a shuffling step backward toward the bathroom door, not letting Tony go as he moves. "I think I might know one or two tricks for relaxation."
no subject
“Is that a fact? Maybe you should teach me sometime. I’ve been told that I don’t know how.” It’s not true. Get enough alcohol in him and he’ll relax, inwardly at least, enough to let him be able to function in more socially acceptable ways until he tips over from enough to too much and blows up his own house. Being Tony Stark requires a delicate balance of volatile substances.
Bruce himself is his own brand of volatile and with him comes its own sets of challenges that Tony has once again failed to write any sort of safety protocols for. Not that it would matter. Tony doesn’t really do safety protocols.
What he does do is tempt fate and somehow crawl out the other side.
He’s hoping fate will be kinder today than it has in the last few days. It’s been so crazy here. No wonder the residents are Sakaar are so blood thirsty. Living here might do the same to both men here.
Closer to the bed, Tony give Bruce a push to either knock him back or to get the picture that he’s supposed to go that way. He’s got no worry about finding lube at least. From what he’s learned about the guy whose home this used to be, he had a large share of stocks in it. But here’s where Tony’s patience is going to shine. He needs to do more than reach for the stuff to slick himself up. He wants to be part of Bruce’s relaxation technique too.
[So sorry for the absenteeism. We go away on vacation tomorrow (for a week) and we have been trying to get ready for that. My tagging is going to be awful until next Monday but I’ll try to get at least one or two in a day! I think we get WiFi on the plane.]
no subject
Knowing that, he shakes his head and gives an affectionate snort. "I'd have to nail you to the floor and you still wouldn't meditate."
The push sends him back and he doesn't try to keep his balance when the bed catches him behind the knees, just catches himself on one hand and scoots to get entirely up on the bed. "Looks like you just volunteered to go get condoms from FRIDAY."
If Tony plays his cards right, he might even get a bit of a show from Bruce, idly touching himself while he waits for Tony to join him.
[No worries! Have a great vacation and a safe trip!]
no subject
Oh, Tony never worries about how he plays his cards. The guy exudes luck the way everyone else swears. The fact that he’s lived this long through this much crazy proves it. He wasn’t just born with a silver spoon in his mouth, he’s never had the decency to spit it out.
It takes him a minute to find another condom, to find some lube, and to find his footing back to Bruce and he is not disappointed when he steps back through the doorway.
Yikes. Bruce has always had a magnetism about him, but whatever that asparagus jizz did to them both has the younger looking professor just gorgeous. Tony groans and he’s not even touching himself. He’s pretty sure he could come if he stared too long.
“Hey-Hey. Hands off while the ball’s not in play.” He tosses the lube on the bed and half pounces on Banner. He can’t help it. He’ll die if he doesn’t kiss him.
no subject
Now is not the time for either of them to consider the inevitability of luck running out. Now is the time to enjoy the luck while it lasts.
Once upon a time Bruce had had a long-term partner and a healthy sex life. He's incredibly rusty at this stage in the game, but he's hardly a blushing virgin, and with fear largely on vacation, he has no reason not to try everything at least once to decide if he likes it.
He's already reaching for Tony to pull him in, laughing a little, a little high just on the desire that Tony can't hide or fake. No matter how oblivious he might be to how someone feels about him, he can't miss this.
"I was keeping the balls in play." Tony deserves that after his earlier remark.
He hooks a leg behind Tony's, wraps arms around him, and raises his head to meet him for a hard kiss. Sakaar has been insane, this is probably insane, but just then this beautiful, damaged, brilliant man is his.
no subject
That said, his hands and mouth are a good distraction. He bags and tags them both without much effort at all, shifting his body when needed to clear space for clever fingers. It’s a little more difficult to surprise-finger someone though. Thigh muscles are a difficult barrier and there’s no way Tony can just slip his ring finger in without Bruce being very aware of the situation.
Which is where Tony’s mouth comes in. He’s not ready to risk jaw cancer like those poor watch girls that used to paint glow in the dark numbers on the faces with radon laden paint. But Bruce does have two good ears and two nipples just begging for a little biting while he tries to tease-attack an area he’s very interested in getting himself into.
no subject
But just then, Bruce doesn't care. He can appreciate being the center of Tony's attention, more than that, he can revel in it. Kiara had done him a favor by suppressing his anger, but she'd flipped his world on its head by suppressing his fear.
He's doing pretty well for all of the sensory overload that Tony's bringing, he even gets his knees parted without much in the way of self-consciousness, but attacks, teasing or otherwise, finally have him grabbing Tony's wrist and mumbling, "Little intense. Just... yellow light? Slow it down?"
[ooc: My turn to be sorry for delays. Things are going to be hectic at work for a while.]
no subject
See, Tony had been going slow. This is slow! It’s almost like a glacier in the total amount of slowness he’s forcing upon himself! The truth of the matter is that patience and Tony Stark mix just a little better than oil and water do and he’s having trouble maintaining the level of patience he’s been chugging along at since Bruce returned the kiss in the hot tub.
Yellow, he reminds himself, is not red, however. This isn’t full stop and it’s not reverse. Bruce just needs more coaxing, like a stubborn lug nut, slightly rusted and stripped.
Tony let’s go of his forward momentum, for the moment, and propped his head up on the hand that hadn’t been trying to hit pay dirt sooner rather than later.
“There’s not a whole lot more I can do to release the throttle,” he says, and that’s not being pushy. Just honest. “Any less pressure and the ship slows to a halt. I’m not trying to push you into anything, all right, but I don’t have anything smaller than my pinkie.” Tony smirks, lovely, huge brown eyes filled with mirth. “I’m cool with going back to making out and dry humping though before we figure out how to reverse Freaky Friday us back to normal.”
no subject
He laughs just a little and reaches up to thread his fingers in Tony's hair and pull him down for a hard kiss, determined to make it clear that he's not backing out or losing his nerve, only letting Tony go when he's certain his point has been made.
"We're doing this while we're both enjoying the refractory periods of twenty-somethings. If we both like it, we're gonna do it again before getting to the reverse Freaky Fridaying." His hand slides out of Tony's hair, trails down his back, and ends up resting on the swell of his ass. "You work on keeping it slow and I'll work on remembering that I don't need to put on the brakes."
Habit's a bitch, and the habit of celibacy is a deeply ingrained one.
[ooc: Apologies for taking so long! Didn't expect to get hit so hard by the time of year.]