seekevolution | The Amulet

Bruce would, for his whole life, question if it is all right to let go. Letting go means vastly more for him than it does most people because there will always be a line he has to avoid crossing, and it is a line often difficult to see drawn in the sand.

Tony's hands feel like they're everywhere, even though he knows that isn't true. Bruce swallows quite audibly when he shifts enough to let Tony peel his shirt off, looking up at his friend uncertainly. What is Tony expecting from him? Tony himself brought up one of the major issues why he doesn't allow himself to deal in this area.

So his gaze is questioning. Uncertain. Nothing says stop, either.

That vulnerable look gets him. Gets him each and every time. It's like the other man is trying to pull out his heart. Tony kisses him again, rushed and aroused and needy. The shirt is tossed somewhere over the edge of the bed and then his own follows, causing him not only to break the kiss, but show off his nice new scar...

And his otherwise perfect chest.

It's not fair to want someone so much, but he can't really blame poor Bruce for being so utterly desirable. The man doesn't realize it, that much is obvious. He's got a troubled past, no opportunity to really do things the normal way and--

Tony doesn't care.

"I really like your mouth," he groans against Bruce's full lower lip.

Bruce's eyes drop down to the scar, studying it the best he can in the light, surprised how very different the tanned chest looked without the slow hum and glow of the arc reactor. For a moment, he wonders how it feels for Tony - had he gained or lost something?

Except the comment about his mouth pulls him out of his thoughts he briefly fell into, and thinking about it, it's such a strange thing to hear from someone. Bruce swallows, his lips brushing Tony's as he murmurs, "thank you?" Each of Tony's kisses are growing more fierce, more... passionate, Bruce assumes, but no matter how much strength behind them, they all make his head spin until he has to hold to Tony to keep himself centered.

Intoxicating indeed. "How... how do we...?" He isn't even sure what he's asking, but Tony knows there's a limit right now, what does he want?

But Bruce's finding himself wanting to actually touch, so very cautiously, his hand moves from Tony's shoulder to his chest, brushing down towards the scar, then over it, gentle as a feather.

"We just do what feels right and stop when it's too much and then go do some physics," Tony replies, so much more gentle now that Bruce is stroking his chest. Stroking the scar. The biggest mistake of his life. Living without Iron Man, with the suits, the arc reactor-- He'd done it for Pepper but he feels so empty. He'll never tell her. She might never forgive him.

Or maybe she'll come to resent him after that--

Yeah, he shouldn't be thinking about Pepper right now. Tony lays beside Bruce, dragging him along to be close. Fingers find tendons and run along them. Neck. Shoulders. He steals kisses here and there whenever Bruce looks unsure or too curious or about ready to balk.

Slow and steady wins marathons. This isn't really a race, though.

It is exactly the right thing to say. Bruce relaxes under Tony's hands with those words and lets out a breath of relief. It gives him enough courage to lean in and actually press his lips to Tony's collarbone, remembering how it felt to touch Betty and feel taut, warm skin under his lips of someone he cared about. Tony might have been trying not to think of Pepper while they lay here like this, but Bruce is the opposite. It isn't tainting a memory, it isn't guilt; it's only adding to something he holds close in his heart.

Bruce still doesn't fully understand why Tony chose to do what he did for Pepper. No, not that he doesn't understand that Tony loves her enough to do it... but he doesn't understand how Pepper can't see that Iron Man is as much a part of Tony as is the need to breathe. There is something lesser about him, in how he carries himself.

He thinks Tony misses it.

Despite his need to be in control of just about everything, in bed, that's not the case. He'd rather just nudge Bruce along here and there and let the other man decide where to go. It's so much safer. So much less potentially disastrous should intensity become a problem along the way.

Encouraging the lips at his throat with fingers threading through Bruce's hair, Tony's spare hand traces lines and curves of muscles from the small of Bruce's back to his shoulders. He understands why the doctor might need to be muscled, to be at least leanly athletic--

But damn. Years on the run have given Bruce quite the hard body!

Oh, he quite likes that. The fingers in his hair feel rather good, very encouraging, and he pauses to simply enjoy the feeling of it for a few long heartbeats. While he's certainly not Tony in terms of muscle, and there are spots that are less than lean, he is probably more muscular than most scientists and doctors, for certain. The pudge on his belly only gives him a softness he needs, right?

The kisses, more like presses of his lips, are soft, shifting, feeling the way the muscle and esophagus beneath the skin move. When he feels the pulse bright under his mouth, he pauses, counting, before pressing a heavier kiss there.

Sorry for the glacial pace, Tony.

Glacial? Yeah, that's a good word for it. Tony's half amused and half frustrated, ready to pop any second. He shifts uncomfortably under Bruce, leg moving to keep him close and keep him interested and remind him that there's a whole lot more to touch if only Bruce would figure it out.

He's not one to be worshipped. Not like this at least. Letting Bruce take the lead is driving him just a little bit nuts. To prove his point, hands drift purposefully south and the mound of flesh filling out the back of Bruce's sleep pants gets a good kneading.

Having someone paw at his backside is a new feeling, not bad by any means, but a bit distracting. Bruce breathes warm against Tony's neck, then shifts his weight to an elbow to look over him. His fingers find the scar at the center of his chest, feeling the reconstructed bone beneath. Such a beautifully done surgery, but then again Tony had paid for the best of the best.

Bruce's gaze lifts from that and he is quiet but, somewhat rarely, a bit blunt because fumbling towards an unknown is a touch disconcerting. "What do you want me to do?" He asks. Not quite what he wanted to ask, which is 'what do you want from me?' But it would do for now.

"Touch me." Tony has no qualms with directing Bruce to do the things he wants him to. It's easy, even if it shouldn't be. He struggles with the waistband of his sleeping trousers, tugging Bruce back down at the same time for another kiss.

It's a victory lap, this. Not just over Mohinder, but Bruce himself. Tony sells it as a way to open his friend up, to let him explore himself. He's not a good man. Not rely. He tries, but he's just human.

Pleasure is something Tony wants above all else now. He's always been so hedonistic though.

Bruce feels Tony wriggling around beneath him, the removal of pants- oh. He swallows hard, assuming what Tony means by 'touch me'. Each kiss is electric, making his breath shudder and throw him more off-balance, but he knows he can't let himself go beyond this point. Things have to stay safe, for Tony's sake.

But maybe he could just pleasure Tony instead. That... Would be acceptable. He's ignored himself for years enough that his body hasn't reacted terribly much yet, though he could feel Tony hard through his soft sleeping pants.

Cautiously, a hand slides down and just like that, thinking it is a start on a path he's firmly lost sight of, he cups Tony in his warm palm, feeling the nearly matching heat.

Good. It's good. Bruce fumbles but it's a little difficult to mess up a handjob. His thumb skirts along the underside of his friend's jaw and his head falls back on the pillows. He won't make Bruce work too hard for it. He is entirely too pent up and having even uncertain touches makes him mewl like a kitten.

Soft, whispered words of instruction or encouragement will pass through his lips. His knees twitch slightly and the muscles of his abdomen clench. He's not sure why this is so important... But it is. Every moment of this is important.

There is something about the sounds that Tony makes that Bruce finds himself wanting to bring more of, enjoying more than he would have expected. His fingers move without even the skill that men would normally have - it's been years since he allowed himself to do anything sexual even with himself.

But he does try, following the instructions given to him and what made Tony gasp and mewl, and he watches. Tony's face is intriguing to watch like this, how his expression changes, the parting of his lips and the sounds that come from them.

More than intriguing, if he let himself feel it all.

The mess the follows is always Tony's least favorite part, but it's his own and that's why there's a nearby shower. He falls back, all of his muscles relaxing, a smile on his face as he gives one last, chuckling moan. He's not going to offer to work Bruce up, or to work him out. He knows the answer to that one will be a resounding no and he feels too nice now to give Banner a reason to leave.

Tissues take care of the initial mess and are discarded where JARVIS can have them automatically removed and incinerated. He really doesn't want or need DNA laying around. He's had a few run ins with crazy people trying to cart it off in the past.

Don't ask.

Tony smiles up into. Bruce's eyes, a hand ruffling through his hair. He needs a trim.

That's bloody creepy, Tony. Bruce is glad he doesn't know.

With a little lean of his head into Tony's hand, Bruce gives a small smile as well. He lays down beside Tony, content enough to stretch out against Tony and put his head on the pillow. It feels... nice. Calm. He watches Tony come down from that high, how he melts into the pillow.

For a moment, he wonders if he would feel that calm from that release as well. If it would even be possible for him to feel that calm ever again.

Tony's fingers lightly move down Bruce's throat to his shoulder and back to his ribs. "Are you all right?" He questions, pulling up the covers as he lightly mouths a stubbled jaw. "Still breathing? Heart all right?" Come closer, Bruce. Tony's become a cuddler. Thank you, Pepper.

He also has a feeling that Bruce might need some reassurance after this. Tony's set it up to have exactly this happen and now that it has, he's more protective, more possessive, of Bruce than he has been before.

Bruce takes a breath and follows the unspoken instructions. He feels inside - heart rate is steady and easy even if a little high, his breathing easy, and more important than anything, Bruce feels nothing stirring in his head.

He nods softly. "Everything is quiet," he informs Tony. Everything is quiet except he doesn't know what to make of this. What he had just done for Tony. Why...?

From his face, it's clear he isn't sure about this at all. Everyone knows that Tony is a playboy and takes what he wants, but Bruce wants nothing to do with that. To be... Something to be had.

It's more than that. More than that but Tony can't say it because he doesn't know what it means to feel it. Loving Pepper is obvious. She knows him better than anyone in every way except his mind. She knows how he takes his coffee and his social security number. She even knows his heart. Or, that he has one at least. And so, he loves her for it.

But all of that had happened before Bruce came along into his life. It'd been so easy. It'd never been that easy before. And while Tony is obsessive and childish and so very confused, he just has to cover it up lest anything happen to these few moments.

He knows, deep down, that he's not the person Bruce would ultimately choose. And it kills him.

Tony's next kiss is heartbreakingly soft. Even he doesn't know why that is. But he tastes Bruce, memorized him. Pleads for him to care enough to overlook how shitty a human being he is... And then stretches out like a cat under him.

"Good. Entertaining as the other guy would be... Good."

Bruce doesn't know those things - wait, no, he knows how Tony takes his coffee by this point. He knows Tony is a childish adult with a good heart that has the usual crimes of being egotistical and selfish, but it's still a very good heart in his opinion. Yes, it had had to be changed, to be pointed down another path than the one he had been molded onto and said there is another way, but he'd followed it.

Besides, Bruce does know his mind. He understands the obsessiveness, the intelligence, and on the other hand from Pepper, he understands Tony's need for Iron Man. For the pain and agony, the triumph and success, the hero worship and saving. Not that he wants it for himself, no, but he saw it in the change from just after the battle in New York to after Tony had destroyed all of the suits.

But this is another thought for another time, because Tony is holding him and unlike the other kisses, this one is tender, soft, and slow. It steals Bruce's breath away from him, leaves him having to steady himself over Tony, blinking down at him.

Then he swallows, refocusing. "Tony..." Soft, unable to follow up the single word with more. Instead, his hand comes up, tracing Tony's jaw slowly.

"Still right here," Tony replies, not mocking Bruce, he can't do the voice at all, Bruce's is too much part of himself to mimic, but simply laying it out there. Tony's here and safe and warm and not running away. He still has a bit of victory lap going on, but that's for another time to analyze.

Tugging Bruce down by his hair, he nudges the other onto his side and wraps an arm around him, big spoon to little spoon, lips to the back of his neck and his own softening erection against Bruce's thigh.

They still need to nap before the real world comes back and JARVIS is ready with Mohinder's preliminary scans.

There is no sleep that's going to come. Instead, with his own arm coming up and securing Tony's against him, Bruce lies very much awake, taking in every little feeling of Tony's body against his, the speed of Tony's breathing, what just happened. There is a strange electric feeling where they touched, where they touch right now, and that last kiss replays over and over.

Tucked up in bed with Tony, the real world feels very far away indeed, and for a time, Bruce is glad for it to be so. He doesn't even notice the little motions of his hand, stroking over Tony's wrist and the back of his palm while he thinks.

He'd never have pegged Bruce for being so affection, but having his skin stroked like that as he drifts off is utterly amazing. Tony wakes up in just as good a mood, leg having inched between Bruce's and body half covering his back like a blanket. He's never fallen asleep holding someone and woken up that way too.

It's sort of mythical.

He grins against Bruce's ear as he pulls himself away (and awake) and hovers for a moment, tabled over him. "JARVIS will have those scans. I'm going to shower."

Bruce turns his head to look up at Tony, brows coming together. Hadn't Tony showered before they went to sleep? Maybe he is mis-remembering, or more like not fully realizing just how bad Tony's tendencies can be at times. He gives a small nod, and then after a moment, he's alone.

It's an odd feeling when he realizes he wishes Tony hadn't left. Like a cat, he ends up turning over and for a minute or two, curls up in the warmth left behind. Ironically, it lets him drift off, not a full sleep, but a cat-nap that Tony, when he's done in the shower, will find Bruce still in, nosed down deep into Tony's pillow.

That's...insane cute. For a few moments, Tony just watches Bruce, fresh and steamy from the shower, before he sucks in a breath and wanders past him, nude and not caring. There's clothing to be put on and Bruce can watch him. Tony has to distance himself a little bit from this.

An affectionate Bruce Banner is really the last thing he needs to fall for right now when he's already lost so much. He can't give up Pepper. He's not physically able to.

He might be able to get away with that blow job but... He doesn't want to push it. "C'mon, I'll order a pizza. How long will you need with Suresh?"

"Mmm?" A groggy sound as Bruce pulls out of his cat-nap, yawning wide before he shifts on the bed, following the voice and focusing on Tony. Must have only napped for a few minutes, right? Pizza. Suresh- oh! Bruce sits up, rubbing a hand over his face to help wake himself up.

"Dunno," he mutters into his hand. "I need to see how bad the damage is." Not to mention he's more than capable of getting just as lost in his work as Tony can, from time to time.

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J: Ms. Potts already has guessed, sir.