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Acceptance	By : ScereyahaDreamweaver Category: Marvel Verse Movies > Avengers, The Views: 3928 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel (nor the avengers, nor science boyfrinds), It's fandom, nor theses characters, just this interpretation of their relationship, I make no money from this.

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Bruce kissed him the way he had wanted to earlier, when he was being held back, and it again became a game of being allowed to, for a time, then having his lips teased and his hair used as a restraint. He let his own hand leave Anthony’s hair and slide down his neck, over his chest and the arc reactor in it, down his stomach, and come to rest on his hip. He pulled him against him when he was allowed to kiss him properly, and held him away from him when his lips were being teased. He took the hip pressing against his hand as a good sign.

“Would you stop that?” Anthony said between kisses.

“I just want to feel your lips." he said, by way of explanation.

“Oh?” Bruce asked in amusement, finally pulling away from his attempt to interrupt his friend between every word.

Fingers wrapped around those belonging to one of the hands tangled in Bruce’s hair, pulling the hand away for a moment.

“And, ah… where did you want to feel them." he asked, brow raised, with another coy and restrained, though amused, look.

He spoke, a bit shyly, against the inside of Anthony’s wrist and kissed him there, trailing his lips a bit.

“Do I need to put the restraints back on?” Anthony glared at him, as if annoyed he had turned the tables.

He pressed his hips forward as if to boldly suggest that his mouth could be put to better use than teasing him. He had not quite expected that post-orgasmic bliss would make Bruce so bold. On the other hand, he often tended to think of him as the shy young scientist that he used to know him as, especially since having gone to college with him in a pocket dimension. He had changed since, gained more self-control and become more assertive, more confident. Anthony also did his own best to push his buttons in just the right way to make him playful. Apparently sexual satisfaction counted as pressing his buttons right.

Apparently, the thought of taking him up on the suggestion was still enough to make him flash a nervous smile and turn red instead of answering. He put his forehead against his chest, next to the reactor and over his heart and ran his hands around his waist and up and down his back. It was very new to him, the idea of being aroused at contact with his friend, but he was content to test it, feeling the tight muscles under his hands. He became annoyed at the shirt being between him and contact with his skin.

Anthony let his shirt be pulled over his head and tossed to the side. He would have been a bit less ready to have his chest on display, except that showing signs of hesitation, or uncharacteristic shyness, at this point, might be taken as a lack of willingness. Hands ran up his stomach, over his chest, and back up to either side of his neck before making their way back down again. He rocked into this subtly as the hands passed, watching the hesitant eyes looking up at him, searching him for a reaction.

Bruce was unsure how to proceed. He had not spent much time thinking on ways to please anyone, let alone Anthony, and was rather out of practice besides that. He seemed to enjoy the feeling of his hands enough though, as he kept closing his eyes whenever they moved. He stroked up and down his sides, in soothing strokes, then lightly trailing his fingers, remembering how similar treatment had gotten to him earlier. He moved to his back, stroking along his spine, and to each side of it. A hand tightened in his hair when he traced across his lower back, so he kept doing it. Before long Anthony was breathing deeply and pressing forward against him, eyes closed and brow tense.

As if he was not worked up enough from watching Bruce earlier, he now had large warm hands running all over his torso. They moved up to his chest, a thumb running along the scar tissue next to the reactor on one side. He knew Bruce would probably be the last person to be squeamish about scars, though he still found him looking mildly concerned, when he chanced a glance down at him. Apparently, he still did not want to think about his friend being hurt, it was touching. The hands flattened across his chest and he felt his own nipples harden under the warmth. This prompted the hands to rub against his chest more firmly before thumbs kneaded them in small circles. He fought against the impulse to close his eyes, preferring to watch his friend’s curios exploration.

Bruce was trying to take a creative approach to things. Anthony had seemed to enjoy himself enough so far, at least that was what the physical evidence seemed to suggest, but the man was highly experienced, and did not have his brain flooded with endorphins as Bruce did, at least not any artificial ones. He also did not know how much of Anthony’s interest was emotional, and how much was physical, he was certain that he had never pursued another man before. Besides all that he also wanted to make him feel appreciated, he knew his friend had deep running insecurities about whether or not he was cared for, possibly more so than Bruce himself. He kissed the front of his shoulder, then his chest. A hand tightened in his hair, so he kept going.

Anthony was surprised by how much he enjoyed warm breath and the rough feel of stubble moving over his skin between tender kisses. He massaged his hands in Bruce’s hair in appreciation. His friend’s hair was soft and dark with wavy curls that got tight near his neck, it always looked tidier than his own and was fun to play with, not least of all because Bruce rolled his head into the motion of it, and seemed to enjoy it. He was kissed everywhere on his torso that his friend could reach, warm hands holding him to him. He had not quite consciously noticed he was making soft humming noises, but cleared his throat nervously now that he was aware of it. His silence did not last long though, as warm breath tickled across one nipple his head dropped back a bit, and his voice turned back on.

“Mmm.” Was all he said, but he tangled his fingers through Bruce’s hair more.

A lip brushed him there next, then a hot tongue. The motion was so tentative, he was certain Bruce could not know how good it felt. He pulled him closer.

Bruce took the enthusiastic tug as a sign he was on the right track. Any time Anthony touched him, when it was not just to tease him deliberately; it was always a firm massaging or tugging motion. It would have seemed mildly dominating, except it always came across as possessive, and sometimes desperate, as though his hands could not help but betray a strong need to hold him and not let him move away. It made him feel wanted, needed even, and he wanted Anthony to feel the same way. He hugged his waist and hips to him, as he nibbled on his chest and enjoyed the massaging fingers in his hair.

Anthony was surprised by the subtle aggression in his friend’s actions. He had not expected him to be submissive, specifically, not at this point in their lives, but Bruce was making it quite clear that he was not allowed to go anywhere until he was through with him. Part of it may have been an effect created by large warms hands trying to cover every inch of him as much as possible. He was allowed to slide his hips up or down against his body, but not pull back. With the way he was being handled he had a hard time believing his friend had never thought of this possibility before, then again, the same could be said about him, him and his sudden seeming drive to strap his friend down and make him enjoy himself. He supposed the emotional context and compatibility had always been there, and neither of them had been able to let go of their doubts, regrets and insecurities long enough to see it.

He tried to press against him even harder. Bruce seemed to be concentrating on getting him worked up, rather than satisfying him, but he was worked up enough and starting to get frustrated. He knew where he wanted to feel the hot, soft mouth and rough facial hair, but it did not seem likely to progress anytime soon. He, with a sound that spoke of arousal and frustration, straightened his legs so that his erection was suddenly under the other’s chin, and Bruce’s hands had slid roughly down to grip his backside through his jeans.

Bruce looked up at him. Anthony’s eyes were the darkest blue he had ever seen them, and lidded heavily. There was something incredibly erotic about suddenly having his friend’s arousal that close, but he did not think he would be able to oblige him very well if Anthony kept tugging him forward that hard. He, again, wanted his friend to slow down, without seeming put-off or unwilling. He did not want to hurt his feelings. He pulled Anthony forward, by the firm muscles in his hands and dropped his lips down to where the other seemed to want them, but instead of getting his clothing out of the way, he opened his mouth and gripped him with his teeth, just hard enough to be a warning.

Anthony felt the heat of his breath through the thick denim of his pants and, though he moaned at the feel and idea of what Bruce had done, he also instinctively pulled his hips away from the overwhelming and threatening sensation and loosened his grip on him. The firm hands on his hips took this chance to push him back down, lower on Bruce’s legs.

Bruce took Anthony’s hand out of his hair and put them on his shoulders instead. He kissed him again, slowly. It only took two seconds before Anthony moaned shortly into the kiss and ran his hands straight back into his hair to pull him harder into it. Bruce tried to pull away to correct him, but he responded by biting his bottom lip and pressing his whole body closer, trying to keep him from pulling back. He kissed him again to get his lip back, and tried again.

“Tony." he said, trying not to look too amused.

“Untie my legs.” Technically, he was not tied up, but he did not bother remembering what he should call it.

Anthony now looked somewhat sheepish over his excessively eager behaviour. He even gave him a suspicious look, as if wondering if this was not some ploy to get away, but he undid the restraints, moving down further to do so. Before he could really wonder whether or not he had done something to turn Bruce off, he was being tugged back towards him by the hips. Large hands were smoothing over his backside again, before gripping him firmly and holding him snugly in place while Bruce flipped them over, being careful of the various lines still attached to his body.

Bruce had not missed all the doubt that had suddenly drained the lusty, seduced look out of his features. Now, though, Anthony just looked mildly surprised. He watched his friend’s eyes flicker over his own expression, looking for some sign to tell him what the other was thinking. Bruce did not want him to have to wonder. He put his knees to either side of him, under his legs, so he would be able to have his hands free while still supporting himself over him; and so that Anthony was now in the mildly compromising position of having Bruce’s knees to either side of his behind, his own legs wrapped over the other’s hips. Bruce brought his hands to either side of Anthony’s face and stroked his cheek with his thumb. He knew he would not be taken entirely seriously, no matter what he said right now, so he settled for trying to convey love and adoration with his actions. He leaned over and kissed him, nipping and massaging at the other’s lips, alternating between gentle and forceful, until he was certain that when he opened his eyes again he would see Anthony’s deep blue ones filled, once more, with lust and certainty.

When he did look up Anthony was already watching him, and seemed to swallow nervously. He could tell his friend still was not ready to risk actually believing that he was, in fact, fully emotionally committing himself to him. He hoped he could change that. He kissed him again, kissed his forehead, his cheek, his neck and shoulders. He went back to kissing and nibbling at his chest until Anthony returned to making small contented humming noises. He ran his hands down his sides. He brought his hands to the front of his hips and dragged his nails against the top of the belt, feeling those hips lift against it. He kissed his stomach, with all the tight muscles, each of them seeming ready to jump at each touch, evidence that his friend’s nerves were on end. His skin was smooth and he took time in memorizing what he smelled like. He knew, from a distance what his friend smelled like, of course, but being so close was new. The scent still warm against his skin smelled differently and much stronger. He supposed, with a brief mental shrug, part of that difference was pheromones. Anthony felt warm against his nose.

He sat up straighter, tugging Anthony’s bottom against himself, and wrapped his fingertips over the top of his belt. He looked up to find he was already being observed closely. He watched Anthony’s heavy lidded expression as he undid his belt, button, and zipper, before sliding all of his clothes half way down his thigh. He ran his hands down his stomach and hips, and back up over his erection, and watched Anthony finally close his eyes as his whole body arched into it and he hummed happily.

Anthony went back to watching Bruce as he kissed over his stomach again, holding his hips down. When each of his hips were kissed and nibbled on in turn, he found his hands back in his hair. Bruce looked up at him, seeming almost exasperated.

“No pulling." he said firmly.

Anthony nodded. When he felt hot breath against him he let his fingers tighten, but did not pull; he even tried to fight the impulse to thrust his hips forward, though Bruce was left to stop most of that by pressing them down to the table. Soft lips followed, then a hot mouth, and then Anthony could not form a coherent thought.

Bruce was not even sure he would like doing him this favour, until he heard the sounds it wrung out of him. Nails scratched lightly against his scalp, but he was not pulled forward. He made a mental note not to let his friend return the favour, at least not until he was absolutely certain he could handle it. He held Anthony’s hips down as his whole body tried to arch upward again. He fought to keep him against the table until it seemed Anthony could not fight the impulse to tug him forward any longer, as he pulled his hands away, almost brought them to his own hair, before they slammed to the table at his sides, clutching at the unforgiving surface futilely. Bruce could tell he was close; he had to be for the way his hips were trying to buck. He stopped swirling his tongue around him and withdrew, replacing his mouth with his hand. It was not just that he was uncertain about how he would handle sperm spilling into his mouth. It also had a good bit to do with the fact that Anthony seemed to be too high-strung at this point to be able to finish, having seemed to be on the edge of it for some prolonged moments, and scratching so desperately at the table. He even seemed to be trying to say something, but failing to get any resonance behind the words. Bruce thought he knew what his friend needed. He stroked him firmly with his hand, and watched him calm down some, as he moved to lie beside him. Anthony turned into him and clutched at him, like he was afraid of falling. He kissed him and turned them over so that Anthony’s back was against the table again. He kept kissing him and let him wind his fingers up into his hair.

Anthony was thankful for the sudden warm comfort of having Bruce against him. He had felt a little exposed on the cold table with most of his clothes gone. The hot mouth had been getting almost uncomfortably intense, and he had been anxious about whether or not Bruce would appreciate it if he did manage to finish. He liked this better, being able to hold him, being able to kiss him. It made it feel that much more personal, reminded him of who was causing him pleasure and that he was cared about. He was now able to let himself thrust up into the hand that stroked him.

Bruce felt rather smug himself when Anthony, quite as predicted, began moaning heavily into his kisses. He was torn between kissing him through his orgasm, and pulling back to hear the un-muffled sounds of his release. He settle for waiting till the voice in his mouth became higher pitched and he felt hot fluid hit his hand, before pulling back and letting Anthony gasp and moan the rest of his pleasure against his lips.

After a few minutes of holding each other and basking in satisfaction, it came to them that they were still in the middle of a lab, curled up together, half naked and sticky, on a testing table in post orgasmic bliss, in the middle of a test. Machines still beeped around them and sounds nearby told them that labs on the adjacent floors were opening up for the day. Anthony was thankful he had closed down this whole floor to keep what they were doing a secret, as he did not think his public image would survive someone catching them; though, admittedly, it still would not be the worst thing he had been caught doing, not by far. In fact, he was fairly certain there were videos somewhere of which anyone else would have been ashamed.

“Well, that should… make for interesting readings.” Anthony said, still breathing heavily.

“We should probably get off the table.” Bruce said sheepishly.

~*~

A note from the author:
My apologies, for the story disappearing for a bit there. I believe the issue to be resolved. So I am making sure I update one more snippet before I end up dropping offline indefinitely again.
I have a question for you... Do you enjoy hot showers?
As always, please rate and review. I want to know what you like about it. Knowing what you like, and what you didn't like -especially- will help me write better in the future.
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Acceptance