for gloryride

[punybanner]

[ Did the Earth always seem so small?

After coming back from Sakaar (more like crash landing, to be honest), Bruce thought things would be easier. Being on his home planet would surely make him feel better, wouldn't it? After having his senses assaulted repeatedly, being forced to stay in a form that loved nothing more than fighting, and enduring the agony of space travel (something he's now sure humans weren't meant to do), having his feet back on solid ground should be a relief.

Somehow, though, it's not. Everything feels skewed, as though he's looking at the world through tilted glasses. The way the air smells has changed; it's sweeter, somehow. Riding in Tony's self-driving car - once a technological marvel that never failed to impress him - now felt mundane, despite all its frills and features. When they got back to the base, it didn't feel like he was coming home, though that probably had more to do with the fact that he hadn't been there before than anything else.

All in all, he felt like an alien on his own planet, and even the press of Tony's hand against his own did little to shake him out of it.

Words were hard to come by. How could he explain everything he'd been through? How could he begin to fathom the fact that Tony was living two years in the future, after their family had destroyed itself over loyalties and mistakes? He spoke very little, despite Tony's attempts to engage him, and he didn't know how to explain how overwhelmed he was by this melancholy homecoming.

Touch, on the other hand, was easy. It was so easy to pull Tony close, to press their lips together, to let his hands roam free and grab at fabric and buckles and zippers. It was even easy to tip his head forward, his voice desperate with loss and hunger and confusion, whisper: ]

Tony, I need you.

[ The meaning in the words was clear. ]

Comments

[gloryride]

[Enough time has passed since Tony had been exposed to the void of space that he's got a proper grip back on the size of the planet he's always--and will always--call home. Once they'd confirmed Hulk had taken off in the quinjet, Tony had given up on Bruce being a piece of his Earth.

Years had gone by, he'd moved on, he'd gotten engaged, he'd continued to build his life without allowing himself to look back--because no one ever comes back. And then Bruce had.

It hadn't felt real until he'd gotten him close. The smell of his skin, his hair, the taste of him after all this time--that'd had it all coming back. Overwhelming was putting it lightly; Tony had been all words, more than enough to compensate for the silence until he'd had Bruce back at the facility. Any tension that'd lingered in the air between them then--any hurt that remained, shock, sadness, resent Tony harbored against his will had been cut by the rough press of Bruce's lips against his.

Easier to pretend the time hadn't passed in the moment. Tony had insisted on a shower but if Bruce needs a nap, he can be the one to insist. With the other man so vulnerable, standing in front of him now after all of this time asking him for something more it's all he can do not to try to consume him as he responds to Bruce's plea with a kiss.

Any conflicting feelings he has surface in the way his lips push against Bruce's, taking his mouth for his own with tongue and teeth despite the passion that seems to drive his hands up Bruce's sides. One of them wanders all the way up to the nape of his neck, grasping at short hair and missing the curls he'd known while the other holds him below his armpit, thumb skimming over his nipple through layers of fabric.]

I've got you, big guy. I kept all the stuff,

[he promises with a nostalgic yearning for something more as he slips back into an older role. He's got a handful of new quips considering Bruce is now claiming to have no recollection of the past few years of his life, but this evokes something more. He kisses Bruce again then, speaking against the side of his mouth,]

Come with me.

[He hasn't even had time to give Bruce the tour yet, but they'll have time for that. For now, the bedroom is down the hall. He pulls back slowly, then starts off with the expectation that Bruce will follow closely behind; he has no intentions of leaving him alone until he sleeps for at least a few days once they're all done here.]

[punybanner]

[ There would be time - and willingness on Bruce's part - to talk about things later on, after he exorcises this strange feeling inside of him. He'd hoped that being back would mean feeling in control again; in space, he never knew what was going to happen or if someone was friend or foe. Earth, despite its own dangers, was at least familiar enough to live on relatively easily.

But that control hadn't appeared, and in its wake he's left feeling directionless and scared. In the past, Tony always knew how to help, how to create walls and boundaries and rules that he could rely upon when his own self-control was nowhere to be found. So he asks for it now because he doesn't know what else to do.

The physicality of it alone helps ground him. Being close to Tony, feeling his hands ignite those familiar sparks of arousal, works to help Bruce settle into the correct headspace. He still smells like Bruce remembers, too; hair gel and metal and the faintest hint of sweat. He's changed too, though; his face has more lines than Bruce remembers, and his eyes seem more clouded than before, as if he's storing too many complicated decisions in his brain.

In Bruce's recollection, the last time they did this was just a few weeks ago, so it's easy enough to slip into his own role. A couple of soft sounds slip from him as Tony's hands hold him close, hitting his weak spots with ease. He sinks into each kiss easily, and when the time comes to follow Tony he does as he's told, keeping close without actually touching him.

As they walk, Bruce's eyes skim over Tony's form, taking in his strong shoulders and confident stride. He's changed, yes, but he's still the same man Bruce knew: kind, generous, willing to give Bruce whatever he needs.

Bruce doesn't deserve him, honestly. ]

Tony. [ he murmurs the name, more to himself than anything, almost like he's trying to remember how to say it. He wants to say more, but words are so difficult to come by for some reason; all the manages to come out is a vulnerable, almost shy sound, like a worried animal calling for its mate. ]

[gloryride]

[Tony glances back at Bruce when he hears his name, but doesn't break his stride. He wonders if he should be doing this now, without being able to know exactly what sort of headspace the other man is in. Three years abroad with three days of consciousness doesn't exactly put Bruce in a stable place with himself or within time. If he gets too deep, Tony's not sure what that'll do.]

Tell me where your head's at right now, what do you need?

[Asking Bruce to vocalize where he's at with himself isn't the right question, so he skips it. What he needs instead is a chance to dig in and see for himself before they get started, and then adjust his plan accordingly.

He needs to be in charge of this now; there's no room for doubt on his part.

At the end of the hall, the sleek metal door to the master bedroom opens to reveal a room awash in slate grey with wooden accents. The far wall has a door that leads to the attached washroom. To the left there's a wall of mirror. To the right, dark wood paneling disguises the entrance to an attached en-suite closet. None of that matters as Tony leads Bruce to the foot of the king-sized bed, and stops there on the plush throw-carpet with him, considering.]

[punybanner]

[ This is probably a bad idea. Bruce knows he isn't where he should be mentally to put himself in this kind of situation; it's dangerous at best, and deadly at worst. But the greed in his heart outweighs his common sense. After being in his other half's skin for so long he just wants to remember what it feels to be himself again, to be touched and loved for who he is instead of what he's capable of.

The words don't come easily, and when he speaks it's somewhat halting, but it's genuine nonetheless. ]

You. [ That much is obvious. ] I need... [ He glances down, lifting his hands somewhat, wrists turned upward to indicate what he's thinking of. His face flushes as he meets Tony's gaze again, and he finally murmurs, ] I need you to be in control. Is that okay?

[ It's a lot to ask, especially given just how much control he wants Tony to have over him. This is more than just blindfolds and handcuffs, and it's not just about how good those things feel, nor the thrill of being anything other than vanilla. It goes deeper than that.

Bruce lets his wrists fall as they continue into the bedroom. He glances around, taking in the space and Tony's impeccable design sense, knowing that, most likely, there are a hundred gadgets hidden behind every surface.

He'd taken off his shoes when he came into the building, and now he lets himself focus on the feeling of the plush fabric against his feet. It's comforting; in space, everything seemed to be all hard edges and abrasive textures. The room smells more strongly of Tony's cologne and he breathes it in, feeling himself settle somewhat.

His eyes fall again as he waits for Tony to direct him. This part always feels a little bit frightening; it reminds him of other times in his life where he's been stared down. But he reminds himself of what's to come, of the fact that Tony is here to help him, and that makes it less scary. ]

[gloryride]

[Oh it's definitely a bad idea--irresponsible, at the very least--but Tony's got a few PhDs in those and this will hardly go down as the worst decision he's ever made. Unless a worst-case scenario crops up, but he can't live his life counting on that and neither can Bruce.]

That's happening. I need you to give me more than that.

[He's not brushing Bruce off, he's just digging his fingers into all the soft bits to feel out where the sore spots are. How much can he give today? How much should he? Bruce wants him in control, but that's expected. It's been long enough that Tony feels a lick of nerves standing in front of Bruce now, but they've done this before and it won't be hard to fall right back into it.]

I want to restrain you, [he starts as he dips his head to press his lips to the edge of Bruce's jaw, palms moving up his sides and around to hold him close.] Blindfold you. If I put you in the dark, are you gonna get lost on me? [Sex may be off the table, or very much on, depending on how this goes. Either way Tony is still going to take Bruce out of his head in every way he knows how.

God, he's missed this though. The taste of Bruce's skin, his musk and sweat and the drag of his stubble against his tongue. He's trying to warm Bruce up but he's melting himself in the process, lost in peppering his ear with soft affections even as he waits for answers.]

[punybanner]

[ It's difficult to vocalize just what he needs, because Bruce is honestly having a hard time figuring that out for himself. He knows what sort of mood he wants, what types of things he'd like to feel, but when it comes to specifics his brain just doesn't want to cooperate. Tony's suggestions leave him feeling grateful; they're a lifeline he can hang onto while he finds his own footing. ]

I won't get lost, [ he manages, head tilting to the side so Tony can get closer, his own eyes sliding shut in anticipation of what's to come. There's a hunger filling his belly that almost frightens him with its potency, and Tony's closeness only stokes that fire further.

He wants sex, but he wants other things, too, the nameless things that accompany every aspect of their relationship. The way it feels when they're close, even when they're not doing anything inherently sensual. The sound of Tony's voice in his ear, murmuring about science and the stars and how sweet he is. The way he makes Bruce feel as though he can float forever in the darkness without once being lost or afraid.

His fingers reach for Tony's hips, gently pulling him closer. ] I want you to collar me, [ he murmurs, his voice quick and shy. It's one of his favourite things, but it can be hard to ask for. ] It'll help keep me here. [ When he says "here" he lets his own lips seek out the skin along Tony's neck, where it leads down to meet his shoulder. After a moment he parts them and lets his teeth sink into Tony's pulse point slowly, more out of possessiveness than any desire for things to get rough. ]

[gloryride]

[If Tony can get the intimacy squared out right, he'll think about indulging in sex. Of course he wants it, after missing Bruce all this time, and now he has him standing raw and wanting in front of him--

He should be the one with teeth in Bruce's neck, even as breathes a soft noise of encouragement as the possessive affection sends a shiver of warmth down his spine.]

I've got just the one.

[He can't promise that they'll stay together forever. He knows they won't. The universe won't be that kind to either of them in the long run; they have too many demons to contest with, but tonight? Tony's palms trail down Bruce's back from shoulder blade to the dip right before the swell of his ass, appreciating the give of his body. Everyone on the team is a solid sheet of rock, but Bruce is the squishy filling to Hulk's armored exterior and it makes it hard to keep his hands off.]

Kneel here for me.

[The carpet is plush enough to cushion him, though Tony doesn't make a move to stop Bruce for laving attentions on him--that's just too much to ask. He'll trust the other man to listen, not because he has to but because he wants to.]

[punybanner]

[ Sex - at least, sex with Tony - comes easily to Bruce, like sliding into his favourite jeans. Even now, with his head stuck in outer space and his body trying to remember how to be human, sex seems like the simplest course of action. Arousal makes him hungry, and his state of mind makes it difficult to hold back.

It's not what he needs, though, at least not yet, and he's thankful that Tony recognizes that because if he didn't - well, Bruce isn't sure what the exact consequences would be, but he knows they'd be pretty awful.

The command, gentle as it may be, is incredibly effective. Being told what to do has always helped him gravitate back towards his default mindset; it's like Tony's tying an anchor to his brain, keeping it from floating away into the abyss. Despite that, it's more than a little difficult to obey instantly, especially when Tony's so close and he feels so nice.

But an order is an order, and Bruce doesn't want to disobey just yet. So, slowly, he lowers himself to the floor, his palms trailing along Tony's sides and down his legs before folding themselves demurely in Bruce's lap. He can't resist leaning forward slightly and nuzzling his face against Tony's groin, however; after all, he wasn't told not to. ]

Like this? [ he asks, peering up with the slightest hint of mischief in his expression. ]

i wrote you a novel im sorry

[gloryride]

[There's a reason Tony likes to keep or else out of his vocabulary--for the most part. Dishing out punishment for rogue behavior is not how he likes to conduct himself, as it discourages the kind of creativity that gets Bruce on his knees, cheek nuzzling his half-hard cock through his jeans.

Tony takes a deep breath, steeling himself against impulse. There's a lot of unsorted feelings lurking beneath his surface right now. In his own way he's as raw as Bruce is, on top but without the upper hand. It's only the illusion of one, after all; between the two of them, Hulk will always get his way if it ever comes to that.

He smooths one palm affectionately back through the soft fuzz of Bruce's hair while nudging his face against him further, lavishing in the tease. As much as he's grown to divorce the Hulk from Bruce--fighting alongside one and working with the other--the threat of him there adds an extra dimension to the trust that Bruce gives him in submitting.

It's one of the many reasons that he's never been able to have enough of him. To say it's overwhelming him a little now to suddenly have him back would be an understatement. When Tony looks down at him, his eyes are dark with arousal backed by the weight of all that emotion.]

That's a pretty picture. [One he's admiring, surely, but--] I'm not convinced you've had enough time to miss it, [he teases, running his hand back through Bruce's hair again. It's only been two weeks since Bruce had last had his cock in his mouth if he's understanding the timeline correctly. So he pulls back from him then, stepping away towards one of the closets disguised as wall trusting Bruce to stay put.]

Give me a minute--[said over his shoulder as he opens the room up, disappearing into the back of it for a couple of minutes.

When he emerges he's got the collar Bruce had always worn with him. It's got an embossed B stamped into the inside of the black leather, simple and sturdy. And a little worn, at this point. It'll fit perfectly, and he comes to stand back in front of Bruce, waiting for him to present his neck.]

I almost got rid of this...

well i AM a librarian

[punybanner]

[ Bruce could never completely submit himself, not even to Tony. Aside from the issue of the Hulk - who, thankfully, has thus far managed to keep himself tucked away during these sessions - it's just not who he is. Tony is one of very few people who realize Bruce isn't a naturally meek or quiet individual. That illusion comes from the constant need to keep himself under control.

In a past life, he was feisty and mischievous and every bit as raw as he still is; here, with Tony, all those traits can come floating to the surface without fear of things going wrong.

Well, with only a little fear.

Bruce can see the arousal stirring in Tony's eyes, can feel him stiffen in his slacks, and it just makes that hunger inside of him deepen. He wants to push a little further, but he holds back for now; there will be time enough for that tonight, no doubt. In the end, he still honestly enjoys being submissive, even if that doesn't mean he's entirely passive.

Despite that, he can't help the little whine that escapes him when Tony steps away. After being so close again, any distance between their bodies feels like far too much. He doesn't even try to move, though. Instead, he waits patiently and fights the urge to fidget.

Tony's reappearance with the collar draws another sound from Bruce's throat, this one almost plaintive. He can remember the feeling of the leather against his neck as clearly as ever, and it fills him with sense memories of their previous scenes. It also strengthens his almost animalistic urge to obey, so much so that his head bends forward to expose his neck before Tony even gets close enough to put it on.

It's good that his head is bent, because when Tony says that last thing a flicker of hurt passes across Bruce's face, too fast for him to hide. It might be meant in jest, but it reminds him of just how long it's been since he left (since he ran away), and that leaves him feeling somewhat shaken. ]

I'm glad you didn't, [ he manages, his voice soft, fingers curling into fists in his lap. ]