[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.]
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starkingenuity) wrote2017-12-11 08:12 am
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.]