Incarnadine

[twilightscribe]

Notes: Alright, so this is a part of mine and blackbarbaragordon's headcanon verse that we've created. Continuity-wise, it's a mishmash of comics, cartoons, and movies. We've basically gone about cherry-picking what we like and leaving out a lot that we don't, so things are probably not gonna line up right with any one singular canon verse since there's bits from a lot of different places. Hopefully, someone else enjoys this just as much as we have.
Title: Incarnadine
Fandom: MCU/DCU
Pairing: Tony Stark/Bruce Wayne
Prompt: "You forgot to say the magic word."
Words: 8265 words

Incarnadine

 

Something Tony's learned about Bruce is that the man has a protective streak bigger than the entire North American continent. Another thing he's learned is that Bruce doesn't deal too well with repeat attempts at bullshit. Unfortunately, Justin Hammer is a complete moron who doesn't know how annoying he really is.

 

Tony's sandwiched in between a couple of Wayne Enterprises executives, a place that Bruce has left him to while he sorts out something that has to be of great importance because otherwise he'd be glued to Tony's side for the entire evening. They're making what has to be the most boring small talk ever; Tony's always hated golf.

 

"Tony! It's been too long, hasn't it?" Hammer greets, too loudly and it cuts through the dull chatter like a repulser blast. He's carrying a glass of champagne in one hand and gesturing wildly with the other. "I didn't think I'd ever see you in Gotham."

 

The man to Tony's left blinks at Hammer's sudden arrival into their thrilling conversation about his last game of golf with two of the members of Stark Industries' board. He almost looks affronted by the interjection, but recovers himself quickly enough and plasters a bland smile on his face that doesn't quite cover his irritation at the interruption.

 

"Mr. Hammer, what a pleasant surprise."

 

There's a round of softly muttered pleasantries and inquiries about golf and spouses. Hammer waves them all off, though, and sloshes half of his champagne down the lapels of one man's suit.

 

"Oh, I'm so terribly sorry about that," Hammer says. He tries to wipe it with his hand, but all that ends up doing is making it worse. Given that he's barely upright, he's had more than enough to drink.

 

Tony rolls his eyes, "Always the joke of the party, aren't you."

 

That earns him a sharp, though alcohol muddled, look from Hammer. Tony's used to that by now; Hammer's only charming when he wants something, and usually that something is trying to convince Tony to just give up the whole business and let Hammer Industries swallow up Stark Industries.

 

Hammer's unsteady on his feet and he grabs Tony's arm, holding on too tight as he does and pulling Tony away from the group of men he'd been talking to, "You're such a joker, aren't you Tony? How about we take a little time to – to catch up, huh? I hardly see you around anymore..."

 

"As thrilling as that sounds, I'm gonna have to pass," Tony shrugs out of Hammer's grip, but it's back a second later and tighter than before. He isn't about to pry Hammer's fingers off his arm, but he gives it a pointed look, "I don't know if you've heard this before – but you know you shouldn't touch something that doesn't belong to you without asking first."

 

"C'mon now Tony, we all know that you're the kinda guy who likes to share. Spread the love and all that."

 

His skin's crawling at that and his stomach jerks painfully. Tony's keenly aware of his reputation.

 

"No wonder you're such a hit with the ladies, Hammer. They've gotta find your arrogant douchebaggery attractive – or maybe it's just the knowledge that you last all of two minutes in bed. They don't have to fake it for long."

 

There's a twitch in Hammer's jaw. It's a low blow, Tony knows that, but he doesn't care. He just really wants Hammer to leave him the fuck alone. He's not here for business, he's here because Bruce wants him to be and he doesn't owe Hammer shit.

 

Hammer's still got a good grip on Tony's arm and it tightens to the point of pain, Tony can't hide his wince but Hammer's too drunk and angry to notice. He jerks Tony close, leaning into his personal space when Tony tries to back away. There's the strong stench of alcohol on his breath. His voice is a low hiss.

 

"You'd know an awful lot about faking it wouldn't you, Tony? I can give you a little demonstration, but I'd hate to be the reason why you can't make it out of bed tomorrow."

 

"Not interested in your lacklustre weapons demonstration. Now let me go."

 

One frantic, quick look around the room is enough for Tony to spot Bruce rejoining the party. His heart makes a little pitter-patter in his chest at the sight; Bruce is tall and incredibly handsome, looking around for him. Tony knows the instant that he spots him and Hammer because a dark look clouds Bruce's face and straightens his shoulders. He easily cuts through the crowd, which parts before him.

 

Hammer's still in his space, though, and there's a thin smirk on his face, "My 'weapons' are working just fine. If you'd give me a chance, you'd be singing me a different song."

 

"I'm not gonna be singing anything for you," Tony hisses back, still trying to pull his arm free. What the hell is it with drunken assholes and holds of iron? He's gonna have the not fun kind of bruises if Hammer doesn't let go of him soon.

 

Not to mention that if he doesn't, Hammer's gonna be leaving this party with more than just a splendid hangover. Bruce looks about ready to commit bloody murder.

 

Alright, that's a lie, but Bruce is pissed.

 

Hammer's moving in closer and shit, he's got Tony backed up against a wall. There isn't anywhere for Tony to escape to, because Hammer's crowding him in from the front and there's a fucking wall of decorative plants to his immediate right and there's a column on his left. Great, just fucking great.

 

"You'd sing me an aria if I asked you to, Tony. Everyone knows that you're not the kinda man to stay in one bird's nest for long."

 

Tony'd kick the man in his practically non-existent dick if it weren't for the fact that Hammer's sliding one thigh between his legs and Tony has to fight back the urge to shudder. He's not gonna show weakness. Not to Hammer.

 

"Fuck off."

 

"Feisty little minx, aren't you." Hammer's smirking, leaning in closer, breath hot against Tony's skin. "But I like it when there's a little fight in you..."

 

He keeps trying to pull away, but with the wall at his back, there's nowhere for him to go. Tony can feel his heart pounding wildly in his chest and he finds himself wishing that he was a lot better at self-defence than he actually is.

 

Hammer's uncomfortably close, hand still gripping Tony's arm tightly. His smirk is all wrong, eyes glassy from the alcohol, "Just one night, Tony. That's all I'm asking for."

 

Sucking down the growing pit of anxiety in his stomach, Tony glares and snaps at Hammer, "You forgot to say the magic word, asshat: Fuck. Off."

 

He hadn't planned at all on making a scene, but Tony's fully prepared to sock Hammer in the face. He might suck at self-defence, but he can manage a decent punch. He's spared having to make that scene, because Bruce looms behind Hammer, presence screaming danger, danger! He grabs Hammer by the collar of his shirt and, in shock, Hammer releases his hold on Tony's arm at last.

 

Bruce doesn't quite throw Hammer as he does shove him away, sliding smoothly into a protective position in front of Tony. His shoulders are set and his hands are in loose fists at his sides, posture deceptively casual but Tony knows that if Hammer makes any dumb moves, he's gonna end up on his back on the floor and in a world of pain.

 

"Maybe I'm not well-versed on your style, Hammer, but it's rude to put your hands all over your host's boyfriend." Bruce casts a quick, sharp look over his shoulder, eyes narrowing fractionally at the way that Tony rubs the place that Hammer had been holding him. "Especially when they're off limits."

 

"Oh c'mon now, you've been with him this long. Y'know that Tony's a wanderer. You can try and keep him chained up, but eventually he's gonna find a new roost."

 

Hammer's gotta be drunker than Tony thought he was, because the man isn't backing down even though everything about Bruce's posture and presence is screaming 'get lost before I hurt you'. It's not even his first time at attempting to get into Tony's pants; he'd been attempting it the first time Bruce and Tony had met. He clearly didn't learn from that, or the times that came after.

 

He's also attempting to intimidate Bruce, which is failing miserably since Bruce is considerably taller than Hammer. Not to mention far more built.

 

"And what? You think you're a better roost?" Bruce is sneering, Tony can hear it in his voice. Bruce snorts, "You're pathetic, Hammer. And if I hear or see you talking about Tony like that again, well... I can assure you, you'll regret it."

 

"Regret what? That I tried to warn you about his whoring ways? It's not a secret, Wayne. Everyone knows the kinda business Tony prefers to do..."

 

Faced with Bruce's considerable bulk and his now murderous aura, Hammer takes an unsteady step back and right into security. Bruce must have alerted them when he spotted Tony entangled with him.

 

Bruce directs his next words to the guards, "I think that Mr. Hammer's had a little too much to drink tonight and needs to be escorted back to his hotel."

 

Hammer splutters, but he's so angry and drunk that his words are slurred and he makes the mistake of taking one badly coordinated swing at one of the men. That just has his arms being clamped by security.

 

Before he's hauled off, Bruce leans in, whispering something in Hammer's ear that has him turning whiter than his starched dress shirt. Bruce straightens up, a wicked deadly smile on his face.

 

"Just remember, Hammer, I don't take well to people who feel entitled to what doesn't belong to them."

 

Usually, Tony'd kinda be pissed about virtually being treated like property, but damn it if Hammer doesn't look about ready to shit himself. There's also the not-so-tiny fact that he's ridiculously turned on by Bruce being all protective and possessive – he may have a not so small kink for that.

 

He's also totally not used to having someone care about him enough that they'd defend his honour like that. Tony knows the kind of reputation he's got and that it's one which he earned fairly, but that has never stopped Bruce from treating him like he's worth more than the world to him. It makes his heart do a funny little flip in his chest against the arc reactor before it jumps up into his throat.

 

Really, though, he has absolutely no fucking idea what the hell it is that Bruce sees in him, but he's going to count his blessings that Bruce does.

 

Bruce turns to him, eyes softening. He reaches out, one hand sliding into Tony's hair to cup the back of his head, the other running softly over where Hammer had that death grip on Tony's arm. There's worry in those bright blue eyes of his, but there's a soft love mixed in there which makes Tony's heart flutter like a teenager's.

 

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" Bruce asks softly, pulling Tony in close. His hand smooths down Tony's arm before sliding to the small of his back and tugging him in for a hug.

 

Tony finds himself tucked up against Bruce's chest and under his chin, he takes a deep breath, can smell that uniquely sharp scent mix that he knows as Bruce and relaxes. He takes one more breath before he shakes his head, "No, no I'm fine."

 

Obviously, Bruce doesn't quite think he's fine because his arms tighten around Tony who hadn't been aware until just right now that he's shaking. Hammer's always been a shithead, but Tony's never really thought of him as a threat – harmless, mostly, and with more arrogance than he can actually back up – but Tony's always been a shit judge of character.

 

Bruce's hand rubs his back, fingers dragging up and down Tony's spine in a comforting gesture which has Tony arching up into the touch. He slides his arms around Bruce's waist and holds on tight, waiting for the shivering to stop.

 

It takes a few minutes, but Tony's racing pulse eventually begins to quiet and he feels more like himself instead of a damsel in a horror movie facing down the violent serial killer. He gives Bruce's waist a quick squeeze before he slowly begins to pull away.

 

He doesn't make it far, though, because while Bruce does let him out of the embrace, he keeps an arm around Tony's waist and tucks him firmly against his side. Tony shoots him a curious look, but Bruce has that unreadable look in his eyes.

 

Before Tony can ask him what's up, Bruce lays a finger on Tony's lips to stop him and drops a quick kiss to his brow, "Not now. I'm going to take you home, alright?"

 

Home sounds really good right now. It doesn't matter to Tony if that means his penthouse in New York or Bruce's manor here in Gotham, just so long as Bruce is there.

 

"Yeah. Yeah that sounds great." He pauses for a second, brain catching up with the situation, "Wait, you sure it's fine if you just cut out on your own party? Pepper'd kill me if I did that."

 

Bruce's smile is soft, full of affection, and it makes warmth blossom deep inside of Tony's chest.

 

"Believe me, it's fine. You're more important right now."

 

They've gathered a little bit of a crowd by now, and Bruce smiles charmingly at the worried executives and businessmen gathered around, assuring them that everything's fine and that one Justin Hammer just had a little too much to drink. His arm remains an iron band around Tony's waist and Tony melts against his side, more than happy to drink up the warmth and safety that being in Bruce's arms gives him.

 

Excuses are made, Bruce apologizes to those who wanted to speak with him, and promises that he'll definitely attend some lunch meetings with a couple people who invite him. There must be something in the way that he holds Tony, or that Tony is holding him, that tells people not to pry too deeply.

 

Ten minutes later, they're out in the cool autumn air of a Gotham evening.

 

The air's much more biting than it was when they arrived, or maybe it's just the shock setting in. Either way, Tony's feeling the cold now. He'd ditched the jacket and he regrets that now.

 

He doesn't spend long shivering, though, because Bruce easily shrugs out of his own jacket and settles it around Tony's shoulders to ward off the cold. Even though it means pulling away from Bruce, his jacket is warm and smells of him and Tony snuggles into it while Bruce calls for their driver.

 

Bruce is far broader in the shoulders than Tony is, with far more muscle mass, not to mention that he's well over a good head taller than Tony. The jacket is far too big for him, but that's fine. He pulls it tightly around him and burrows his face into it, pulling Bruce's scent into him.

 

"The car will be here in a few minutes," Bruce says softly. He places his arm back around Tony's waist and pulls him close. Tony goes willingly. Absently, Bruce continues to rub circles against the small of Tony's back.

 

Tony makes a little noise of contentment and curls closer to Bruce, soaking in his warmth. He stays still for a moment, before peering up at Bruce. Bright blue eyes meet his and Tony's heart aches at the love there. God, he's hopeless.

 

"Thanks. For earlier. You didn't have to do that – defend me and all that."

 

"Tony..." Bruce sighs and he turns to face Tony. He places both hands on Tony's shoulders, and it's very difficult to look away from that intense gaze of his. "I will always defend you. I'd make for a pretty terrible boyfriend if I didn't defend you when someone tries to assault you and accuses you of being unfaithful – which I know for a fact that you're not."

 

He gently chucks Tony under the chin and presses a featherlight kiss to the tip of his nose, "You, Tony Stark, are many things, but you're not faithless. I know you wouldn't cheat on me – not willingly."

 

There's that dark look in his eyes again, and Tony catches Bruce's hands in both of his and squeezes them. He manages a shaky smile, "Thank you, Bruce. And I mean that."

 

He has to stand on tip-toe to kiss Bruce, light and chaste. He's still smiling and the warmth in his chest is making him feel giddy. Tony's been in love before; he loved Pepper, but there's something about what he feels for Bruce that goes far deeper with that. He painfully wants this to work and doesn't want to consider that it won't. Tony hates admitting it, but he's terrified of the thought of losing Bruce.

 

Pressing another kiss to Bruce's lips, he feels like his face is going to crack from how big his smile is. They're still so close that their breath is mingling in a small cloud in the cold air, Tony brushes his nose against Bruce's and whispers into the space between them.

 

"I love you."

 

Bruce is smiling back, catching Tony about the waist and lifting him just enough so that Tony no longer has to strain to keep their faces level, "Love you too."

 

Their driver arrives while they're still tangled up in each other and it's not without some effort that they disengage. Bruce keeps one hand at the small of Tony's back, still with that soft smile on his face, as he leans around to open the door for him. It's a little tick of his, but Tony's never cared.

 

Bruce slides into the car after him and closes the door with a click. It's comfortably warm within the car, but Tony's a little bit loathe to let go of Bruce's coat. He's still feeling giddy and excited and far, far too grateful that Bruce loves him the way that he does to sit still.

 

He casts a careful eye at the partition separating them from the driver. Tony's been in enough limos and fooled around in plenty of them to know that it's not sound proof. He glances at Bruce, who has one arm draped loosely around Tony's shoulders and is looking out the window as the lights of the city pass them by.

 

Now, Tony thinks, is as good a time as any to express just how grateful he is to Bruce.

 

The car slides smoothly into the last dregs of late night traffic, Tony let's Bruce's jacket slide off his shoulders as he climbs into Bruce's lap. He captures the little sound of surprise that Bruce makes with his lips, kissing him.

 

His thumbs brush along Bruce's cheeks as he cups it between his hands, nipping lightly at Bruce's bottom lip and it's not needed because Bruce's lips open easily under his own and Bruce's tongue is a wicked serpent that's got Tony moaning and grinding down against him in seconds.

 

"God," Tony pants against Bruce's lips. "The things you do to me."

 

Bruce's breathing is a little heavier, but he isn't panting. His hands have settled on Tony's hips, holding him close as Bruce grinds up against him, "Isn't that my line?"

 

Despite his breathless state, Tony smirks at Bruce and nips at his jaw. He mouths along it, tracing his tongue along the line of Bruce's throat before it ends at his shirt collar. Against his mouth, he can feel Bruce's pulse and it's faster than usual.

 

Leaving a trail of butterfly kisses along Bruce's jaw, Tony bites the lobe of his ear gently, "I'm gonna need you to keep quiet, otherwise the driver's gonna know what we're up to."

 

Bruce tips his head to the side, catching Tony's lips in a kiss that has Tony's toes curling and has him thinking that he wouldn't mind too much if Bruce just threw him down on the limo's floor and took him right there. He wouldn't give a fuck if the driver could hear him; god, he's not ashamed of the way that Bruce makes him feel, of how well Bruce knows him. And Tony certainly doesn't give a fuck about people knowing just how thoroughly that Bruce owns him.

 

But this isn't about him. This is about Bruce. This is about Tony showing Bruce just how much he loves him, appreciates him, and just the sheer amount of want for him that Tony's got bottled up inside of him.

 

Tony's the one that breaks the kiss, a thin string of saliva connects their lips. Tony licks his lips and catches it, pressing one more light, quick kiss against Bruce's lips before his sliding down the long lines of Bruce's body.

 

His hands gently spread Bruce's thighs and Tony slides into the space between them. He hears the way that Bruce's breath catches in his throat, spots Bruce's quick glance at the partition. Once he's kneeling on the ground between Bruce's legs, Tony smirks up at him, hands stroking up Bruce's thighs towards his belt.

 

Under the press of his hand, Tony can feel how hard Bruce is and that makes his blood thrum louder in his ears. He's responsible for this and damn but he's proud of the way that Bruce's breath comes just a little bit faster and that he's already hard and wanting for him. Leaning in, Tony keeps eye contact with Bruce as he presses one long, lingering kiss to the swell of Bruce's clothed cock.

 

"Tony," Bruce hisses, hands gripping the edge of the seat tightly.

 

It takes only seconds for Tony to have Bruce's belt unbuckled, nuzzling his face along the hard length of Bruce's cock before he starts in on Bruce's pants, "Remember, no audience."

 

He doesn't need to pull Bruce's pants down or off, just get them open and then he trails his fingers along the waistband of Bruce's underwear. Tony traces the lines of Bruce's hips, can feel lines of hard muscle under his fingers and god, the sheer amount of power that Tony knows Bruce has under his fingers is intoxicating.

 

But damn, he's fucking lucky.

 

Tony's already running the calculations in his head and he knows how much time they've got before they're home. It'll be just long enough.

 

He tugs down the waistband of Bruce's underwear, slipping a hand inside to give Bruce's cock one long, slow stroke as he pulls it free, letting the band rest behind Bruce's balls. No point stripping him beyond what he needs; this is just for Bruce.

 

Tony sneaks another glance up at Bruce, sees the hooded intent look in his eyes and his tense, hunched posture. He's barely touched Bruce and he's already slowly coming undone and it's a beautiful sight. Tony doesn't waste much more time than that, he leans in and presses a kiss to the head of Bruce's cock.

 

That pulls a sharp inhale from Bruce, which is followed by a low choked noise from the back of his throat when Tony trails his tongue down Bruce's cock in a slow, spiralling motion. He gives Bruce another slow stroke, twisting his hand at the end the way that makes Bruce's hands clamp down hard on the leather of the seat.

 

He can smell the tang of sweat, musk, and it's a better drug to him than anything else ever could be. Tony takes a deep, shuddering breath, senses full of nothing but Bruce and curves his tongue along the underside of Bruce's balls before sucking them into his mouth.

 

And that gets him a reaction. Bruce jerks just a little, but relaxes quickly with a slow sigh. His hands still have what looks like a death grip on the seat, though, and Tony only spares that a brief thought of concern but there's more pressing matters on his mind.

 

Rubbing his thumb across the head of Bruce's dick, Tony pulls back just enough to kiss Bruce's balls before pressing one to the root of his dick, mouthing it and sliding his mouth up its length.

 

He drops both hands to rest on Bruce's thighs to steady himself; he doesn't really have much hope of controlling Bruce and he doesn't care. Tony's fine if Bruce wants – no needs – to use him a little; he's fine with Bruce taking control, leading him and dominating. If Bruce wants to thrust up and into him, he'll welcome it.

 

Bruce is safe and love. That's a little harder to come to terms with because Tony's not really a touchy-feely kinda guy, but damn Bruce makes him feel like a dumb cheesy idiot who is head over heels in love. It's ridiculous.

 

There's a little precum at the slit of Bruce's cock and Tony smiles, pulling back just a little to peek up at Bruce through his eyelashes, "Looks like someone's eager."

 

Bruce shoots him a look and, really, it should be a crime for someone to be so coherent when Tony's going down on them.

 

"You're doing an awful lot of talking for someone who doesn't want an audience."

 

Tony's still grinning as he leans in, flicking his tongue across the tip and catching that little bit of precum. He hears the catch in Bruce's breath, "You've got a way of loosening a man's tongue."

 

Sucking just the head of Bruce's dick into his mouth, Tony traces his tongue along the ridge of the crown, pulling away just a little before taking more on in a slow, gradual slide. His jaw's gonna be aching by the time he's done because Bruce isn't lacking in any way – thick, and just long enough – but he doesn't care. This isn't about him.

 

He knows to curve his tongue, cradle the underside of Bruce's cock as he slides down, taking it all in and working his throat as he does. Every inch or so, he pulls back just a little before he takes just a little bit more. Under his hands, he can feel a tremor in Bruce's muscles and if he didn't have a mouth full of cock, he'd probably smile. Instead, he hums contentedly, which wrangles an even better reaction from Bruce.

 

Bruce's hips jerk up, just a little, pushing his dick into the warmth of Tony's mouth just a little more. That earns him a hard suck from Tony in reward.

 

The time it takes Tony to slowly take all of Bruce into his mouth, throat working to accommodate the girth, stretches out to feel like a small infinity. Tony pauses, nose buried in wiry curls, just so he can feel the weight of it. He pulls back, dragging his lips and tongue along the length, before plunging right back down after a quick breath.

 

Tony's a little startled out of his rhythm by the touch of lightly trembling fingers against his cheek. He doesn't completely pull off Bruce's cock, but he looks up and catches Bruce's eyes, feels that sharp blue gaze pierce straight through him.

 

Bruce's breathing is uneven, his thighs trembling from the control need to keep himself from just arching up and fucking Tony's mouth. He traces his fingers along Tony's hollowed cheek, eyes glued to Tony's.

 

It's a simple touch, but it goes straight through Tony, making him shiver. He ducks his head a little, Bruce's fingers settling lightly into his hair, and digs his tongue in under the ridge of Bruce's cock.

 

That does earn him a little half thrust, Bruce's hand tightening its grip on Tony's hair. Tony hums, worrying the slit of Bruce's cock before he swallows him down again.

 

He knows Bruce's weak points, knows just how to suck, just where to press his tongue, and that if he drags his teeth just a little as he pulls back, that Bruce'll come undone. Bruce is close, Tony can tell from the way that his shaking hand is cupping the back of Tony's head and the little muffled noises he makes when he's just on the verge of orgasm.

 

Tony hums around the head of Bruce's dick, tongue flicking the tip as he sucks, hard. He could pull off, could take Bruce's cock back in his hand, twist his hand just the way that he knows will have Bruce coming and earn himself a face full of cum, but no, that's not what he wants and Bruce hated it when he did that once before.

 

It also creates too much of a mess and this is just for Bruce, no one else.

 

Instead, he takes Bruce's cock in hand, mouth still sucking on the head and does that little twist and flicks the head with his tongue.

 

Bruce is remarkably good at cumming with little noise. His entire body locks him, hips jerking up  and Tony takes it, can taste it as Bruce comes, hard, shuddering, and deep into his mouth. He swallows it down, sliding down just a little bit more on Bruce's cock to swallow it all.

 

Bruce is shuddering, hand tight on Tony's hair, and there's a dark sound lodged in the back of his throat that isn't quite a groan and sounds a lot like Tony's name. It takes a little while before Bruce relaxes back into the seat, hand almost absently stroking Tony's hair while the other slips down to cup Tony's chin and pull him up and off Bruce's dick.

 

Before Bruce does that, though, Tony has the presence of mind to swallow down the last of Bruce's cum, licking a stray strand or two as he goes. Bruce is pulling him back up off the floor of the limo and Tony's knees protest a little because the floor is much harder than he'd thought it would be.

 

Tony's also nice enough to carefully tuck Bruce's softening cock back into his underwear.

 

He's pulled up into Bruce's lap, straddling him, and then Bruce is pulling him down into a slow, lazy kiss. Bruce kisses Tony deep, tongue chasing down the lingering traces of himself in Tony's mouth, but that's never been something that Bruce has shied away from. He has one hand cupping Tony's cheek, thumb stroking it, while the other slides down Tony's chest, resting over the arc reactor for a brief moment before moving further down, destination quickly becoming obvious.

 

Bruce makes a small noise of confusion when Tony catches his wrist before Bruce can return the favour. He breaks the kiss, the tiniest little furrow in his brow, "Tony...?"

 

"I'm good. I can wait." Tony smiles, lifting Bruce's hand and kissing the palm before he drops both hands down and making sure that Bruce's pants are properly done up and his shirt is tucked in. Then, he snuggles into Bruce's chest, dropping his head onto Bruce's shoulder.

 

"I wanted to do something just for you," Tony says softly into the skin of Bruce's neck. His cheeks are flushed, not just with arousal but a little embarrassment.

 

It's been over a year and Tony's still a little bit surprised sometimes that: a) Bruce is still around, still with him and wants him just as much as he did at the beginning; and b) that he's actually capable of loving someone the way that he loves Bruce.

 

Bruce's arms are warm, one hand at the small of his back while he lifts the other to squeeze Tony's arm gently. There's a smile in his voice, "Well thanks."

 

There's a comfortable silence that falls over them after that. Bruce seems content to stroke his fingers along the length of Tony's back, the other hand resting lightly on Tony's thigh.

 

Despite the fact that he's still rock hard in his pants, Tony's content and he drifts a little during the rest of the short drive to Wayne Manor. He's curled up in Bruce's lap with Bruce's arms around him and he doesn't need anything else, though he can tell from the way that Bruce's caresses are dropping lower and lower along his back that he's got a long night ahead of him.

 

He's perfectly fine with that.

 

Their driver pulls up in front of the large manor, the intercom crackling a little as he speaks, "We're here, sir. Shall I get the door for you and your date?"

 

"It's fine," Bruce replies. He has to drop his hands from around Tony to find his now crumpled jacket lying on the seat beside him, which he then pulls around Tony's shoulders.

 

Too content to move and also well aware that he might not be able to walk with the erection he's packing, Tony instead slips his arms into the sleeves of Bruce's jacket before winding his arms and legs around Bruce. At the sharp look that earns him from Bruce, Tony simply smiles back as innocently as he can manage. He knows that Bruce sees straight through it.

 

It's a testament to Bruce's own strength and flexibility that he gets them both out of the car without dropping Tony. He only really needs the one arm under Tony's thighs to hold him in place, long strides carrying the both of them to the door of the manor, which Alfred already has open for them.

 

"You're home earlier than expected, Master Bruce," Alfred says, letting them into the sweeping main hall before he closes the door behind them. For his part, Alfred's eyebrow only slightly twitches upwards at the sight of the two of them, "Master Damian has already retired for the night. Shall I get the two of you anything, or will you be retiring yourselves?"

 

"We'll be retiring. Thank you, Alfred."

 

"Very well, sir. Goodnight, Master Bruce. Master Tony." Alfred gives them a little nod, before he makes his way towards his own room for the night. He pauses at the corner, turning back to them for a quick moment, "However, sirs, I must request that you make sure not to leave a trail behind you."

 

There's a hum of heat to Bruce's skin when Alfred leaves. Tony grins against his neck, "Maybe next time."

 

Bruce snorted softly, breath rustling Tony's hair as he makes his way up the stairs and towards their bedroom, "Not likely."

 

"Really? There's never gonna be a time that you're gonna fuck me up against a wall? Cause I distinctly remember you doing that last month in New York–"

 

"Yes, but unlike New York, we're not the only ones here. And I'd rather not have my son stumble across anything... personal."

 

Tony nips at Bruce's neck, then kisses it, "Alright, I'll behave."

 

"Good." It doesn't take them long until Bruce is pushing the large, heavy door to their bedroom open. He leans against it to close it, dropping one hand down to lock it.

 

Slowly, Bruce walks towards the bed, setting Tony down gently on the edge. He pauses, fingers hooking into his tie and loosening it before he pulls it off and tosses it to the side. He unbuttons the first few buttons of his shirt, but leaves it on.

 

Tony's already got his arms open and he knows that he looks like a wreck, mouth red and swollen still from sucking Bruce off in the car. He makes a small, pleased noise when Bruce slides his hands up Tony's sides and then drops to his knees in front of him.

 

Spreading his legs as Bruce's hands slide down them, Tony leans back and watches. He isn't sure what Bruce has planned, but he's game for anything. Bruce's hands run down his shins, and in short order he's pulled Tony's shoes and socks off, discarding them.

 

His breathing is coming quicker as Bruce's hands drag back up his legs. They skirt around his crotch, avoiding touching his dick and Tony makes a low keening noise as Bruce takes his time to unbuckle his belt and undo his pants. He's still got enough functioning brain cells to lift his hips off the bed enough for Bruce to slide his pants – and underwear – down and off his legs. Those are also tossed somewhere.

 

Tony doesn't care once they're off, though, because Bruce is looking at him with hard-edged lust in his eyes and Tony's caught in a spell. Even though he's trembling, he can't look away as Bruce slowly and methodically strips him of the rest of his clothes until he's left in nothing under that brilliant blue scrutiny.

 

He's still shaking as Bruce's hand slip under his thighs, lifting him up just enough to slide him further up the bed.

 

Once he's got Tony naked and stretched out on the bed, Bruce leans over, keeping Tony's hands pinned to the bed above his head with one large hand while he kisses him. He's got one knee between Tony's thighs and using his other hand to support his weight on the bed as he climbs on top of Tony.

 

Tony makes a little noise when Bruce pulls away from the kiss, mouth ghosting along Tony's jaw and down his neck. He jerks his hands, but Bruce's grip on them tightens and he knows that his hands are staying out of the equation.

 

When Bruce's teeth sink into the nape of his neck, Tony lets out a little hiss of pain-pleasure. His hips jerk up against Bruce's, seeking out contact and he grinds up against him; it's ridiculous just how close he is, but then Bruce's hand is on his hip and pinning them to the bed.

 

He whimpers at that.

 

"My turn," Bruce murmurs, tongue smoothing over the mark he's left. He tightens his hands for a brief second around Tony's wrist, eyes a dark promise, "You keep these here, promise?"

 

Tony nods, a little bit frantically. His skin's tingling and feels far too tight, like he's about to burst if Bruce touches him anywhere.

 

He fists his hands into the sheets and curls his toes, shivering as Bruce pulls away from him. Tony tries to bite back the noise he makes at the loss of Bruce's weight against him, but doesn't quite succeed; it comes out more as a whimper than anything.

 

"Shhh," Bruce is leaning over him again, hands pressed into the mattress as he presses a soft kiss to Tony's lips. "My turn to show how much I appreciate you."

 

Bruce moves, then, kneeling between Tony's spread legs. He rakes his fingers down Tony's sides, nails digging in just a little before they come to Tony's hips. They smooth over the lines, pausing at the juncture of hip and thigh. Bruce digs his thumbs in just a little and Tony jerks, biting down on his lip to suppress a moan.

 

With his own teeth, Bruce gently tugs Tony's lip free, soothing it with a swipe of his tongue, "I don't want you quiet, Tony. Let me hear what I make you feel."

 

Tony would really like to tell Bruce that he's kind of an ass sometimes, but his voice is caught in his throat. Instead, he makes a strangled noise when Bruce's mouth goes back to his neck, nipping and sucking marks into the skin there that Tony's going to have a hell of a time hiding but is probably not even gonna bother.

 

He's showed up to board meetings looking worse; a couple love bites and hickeys from his boyfriend – who is also Bruce Wayne – is nothing.

 

While Bruce's mouth works on finding all the sensitive places of Tony's neck, his hands are busy tracing an erotic trail up Tony's sides. Tracing the lines of lean muscle that's there, skating over a handful of scars from that time and a couple from after. His fingers gentle over the hard lines of scar tissue, as though he can soothe away the pain with his touch alone.

 

With an exquisite sort of care, Bruce's hands slowly slide across Tony's stomach, mouth trailing lower to suck a long series of love bites into the skin above Tony's collarbone. Gradually, his hands edge closer towards the mass of scar tissue that surrounds the arc reactor.

 

Tony's breath hitches a little in his chest, but after the initial pang of panic he settles. Bruce has touched the arc reactor many times, whether a soft brush of his hand or lips, and it's Bruce that Tony has entrusted a spare to – just in case. The overwhelming feeling of safe soaks into his skin and muscle and Tony trusts Bruce, loves him; he knows that Bruce would not hurt him.

 

Bruce is looking at him through dark lashes as he moves down, mouth soft against the scars which  spread out from the arc reactor like a spider's web. His features are thrown into a sharp relief by the soft blue glow of the arc reactor, highlighting his cheek bones and the line of jaw.

 

To keep his hands from coming down and touching Bruce's face, Tony has to tighten his grip on the sheets to near the point of pain.

 

"Bruce," Tony says, and he sounds wrecked.

 

Bruce's eyes don't leave Tony's as he, almost painfully slowly, lowers his head to press a long, lingering kiss against the arc reactor.

 

Even though all he registers that as pressure, Tony whines, hips twitching and thighs trembling as he draws them up a little. He wants to wrap his legs around Bruce's waist and his arms around his shoulders, pull him up and kiss him breathless, until Tony loses himself in Bruce's touch and his warmth, but he resists.

 

With a soft smile, Bruce drops another kiss to just below the arc reactor, tongue tracing along the web of scars as he gradually snaked his way down Tony's body. His hands gently rub Tony's still trembling thighs, carefully sliding up and holding Tony's hips down to the bed as he presses another lingering kiss against Tony's hip bone.

 

He traces a hot line along Tony's hip with his tongue, avoiding Tony's hard cock until his cheek brushes against it and Tony lets out a choked sounding shriek. He's shaking violently now.

 

"Bruce," Tony manages. His voice is trembling, weak, and full of need. He knows that if Bruce touches his cock now – whether with his mouth or his hands – that he's going to come undone and he doesn't quite want that. Not yet. Not like this.

 

Bruce hums softly, nuzzling against Tony's hip before looking up at him, "Yes, Tony?"

 

Tony bites his lip and sucks in a breath. There's a tiny part of him that feels a little shameful at asking for this, but he's beyond shame at this point. He wants Bruce; needs him like a man needs oxygen.

 

"D-don't... I want..." He has to suck in another deep breath. He's completely wrecked and what he wants is for Bruce to slide into him, take him long and hard until he's screaming out Bruce's name and there isn't anything else that matters but Bruce. Tony wants his senses to be full of nothing but Bruce, wants to cum with Bruce inside of him and feel him there.

 

Bruce is remarkably patient, resting his chin against the line of Tony's hip. His hands have stilled on Tony's thighs, waiting for Tony to find the words to articulate what he wants. Tony knows that whatever he asks, Bruce will give it to him.

 

"What do you want, Tony?" Bruce prompts.

 

Tony takes another deep breath, he's said worse. He can say this. He knows he can.

 

"I want you," Tony says softly, swallowing hard. His voice is still trembling, "Shit, Bruce, please don't make me cum like this. I want you in me when I do. I want you to fuck me till I'm screaming for you. C'mon, please, fuck me."

 

He's shaking now with want and need and the urge to orgasm. Tony's sure that he can't even take Bruce's fingers now without coming and that isn't what he wants. He can take it, knows he can, and fuck he wants it so much it hurts.

 

Bruce is quiet for a moment. But in an instant he's surging up, catching Tony's lips in a bruising kiss and his hand's going for the lube that's under the pillow.

 

Tony catches the kiss with a groan, melting into it. But Bruce is still fully clothed and Tony would really like it if he was naked now. Though, if Bruce wants to fuck him into the mattress while still fully dressed, Tony would be perfectly fine with that – just so long as he's got Bruce's cock in him and can hold onto him through it.

 

Wisely, Tony keeps his hands fisted in the sheets while Bruce clicks open the lube, spreading it on his hand as his other one goes for his pants. He's got them open in seconds, doesn't even bother stripping, just pulls his cock out and slicks it with one long, slow stroke.

 

Spreading his legs just a little bit wider, Tony hisses, "Need you now."

 

Bruce gets the message loud and clear. He drops his hands to grab at Tony's hips, holding just a little too tightly and there's going to be bruises in the morning but Tony doesn't care. Bruce slips a hand under the small of Tony's back, shifting him so that the angle's just right and the blunt head of Bruce's dick is there.

 

Tony's arching up against Bruce before he really can think about it. He's done this enough to know what he needs to do almost unconsciously, and the head of Bruce's dick slips in.

 

There's a burn to the pleasure, too much too fast, but Tony doesn't care. Bruce's cock slides into him in one long thrust and Tony's panting, biting his lip till he can taste the sharp copper tang of blood.

 

Bruce can smell it, leans in and swipes it away with his tongue. Like Tony, he's shaking, trying to give Tony just a little bit of time to adjust. He's taken Tony like this plenty of times, but Bruce's cock isn't small and there's still that pressure edged with pain at the start.

 

Neither of them can wait too long, though, and Bruce pulls back, cock sliding out of Tony until just the head remains. Then he slams back in, thrust angled just right that Tony's seeing stars and there's a strangled scream of Bruce's name as orgasm crashes into him.

 

Tony doesn't have time to come down, Bruce is still thrusting into him with a single-minded focus and Tony's nerves are all lit up at once. Synapses torn between pleasure and overstimulation because it's almost too much, but Tony doesn't care. He takes it, back arched up and hands clenched so tightly in the sheets that he might be puncturing holes in them.

 

Usually, Bruce has the stamina to easily outlast Tony, even if he's cum already, but that doesn't seem to be the case tonight. Maybe Bruce is still keyed up from earlier, Tony doesn't know and frankly doesn't care. His mind's fuzzy with too much pleasure with just the barest edge of pain; it's all he can do to just hold on and take everything that Bruce gives him.

 

It's a brutal pace and Tony takes it. He's possibly going to scream himself raw, but Bruce's hips stutter a little in their rhythm and Tony clenches down on his dick. If he could, he'd catch it there and keep it; when Bruce is inside him, he feels gloriously full and nothing can compare.

 

"Tony." Bruce growls his name, his hands tightening to the point of pain on Tony's hips.

 

His teeth find Tony's neck and he bites down, a muffled shout of Tony's name into the flesh there and his hips slam into Tony's once, twice, and there's a flood of heat inside of Tony as Bruce spills himself into him.

 

For a few brief seconds, Bruce stays like that, poised over Tony. Then he collapses against him, a controlled one that keeps him from completely crushing his more slender lover.

 

Tony's fingers are cramping up from the tight grip he's got on the sheets and he unclenches his hands and lets go. He flexes them a little to work some of the feeling back into them, before carefully reaching down to run them along Bruce's shoulders.

 

His skin is overheated and he's feeling awfully tender between his legs – sitting is going to be an exercise in pain tomorrow, maybe he'll just stay in bed, not like he has plans – but Tony wraps himself around Bruce and holds him close. He feels drowsy, sated, and he smiles lazily as he rubs his fingers against Bruce's still clothed back.

 

"I don't think you should be sleeping in those good clothes of yours," Tony manages. His voice sounds hoarse in the silence and his body is aching in a number of different places but he's perfectly content to stay where he is.

 

Bruce pulls away from Tony's neck, breathing raggedly in the aftermath. His eyes are still exceptionally bright, but there's a thread of exhaustion there. It's been a long day.

 

Very slowly, Bruce presses a kiss to the angry red mark that he's left on nape of Tony's neck. But when he moves to sit up and pull out, Tony tightens his still trembling legs around Bruce's hips; it's a grip that Bruce could break easily, but he doesn't.

 

Tony manages a small smile, "Oh no, I'm not letting you go that easily."

 

That earns him a fond smile and an exasperated sigh. It takes a little bit of twisting, but soon Bruce's clothes join Tony's on the floor.

 

Once they're both naked, Bruce pulls Tony to him and rolls so that he's on his back and Tony's on top of him. He plainly sees the way that Tony winces when he does and drops his hands to gently knead the small of Tony's back as Tony curls up on his chest.

 

"You're going to be feeling that in the morning," Bruce says.

 

"I know."

 

"And I don't care how convincing you think you can be, I'm not gonna fuck you again if you're hurting."

 

Tony lightly hits Bruce's shoulder, but he's already drifting off to sleep, "Well you're no fun."

 

Bruce snorts, and mutters, "You're an insatiable little minx."

 

Even though he's mostly asleep, nuzzling up against Bruce's neck, Tony murmurs, "Just for you, babe."

FIN.