ironmonger | (no subject)

It does not, in fact, take much to push Tony over the edge.

And when it happens, he really does scream.

Which, in turn, is all the encouragement Obadiah needs, though he is a little quieter about it.

Slowly, his grip on Tony's hips eases up.

He hasn't stopped shaking, but at least he can breathe now. In a little while maybe he'll be able to focus his eyes and form words.

Since Tony isn't showing any immediate signs of needing to be unlocked, Obadiah allows himself a couple minutes to recover and savor the moment before slowly getting up to dispose of the condom.

Once that's taken care of, he opens a drawer in the nightstand and takes out a little silver key.

By that time, Tony is quite capable of watching him, and he does. It's hard to say what he's thinking behind that look of dazed exhaustion; even Tony isn't sure.

He also takes out a small plastic container, which he puts down on the nightstand within easy arm's reach from the bed. Then he sits down and unlocks Tony's handcuffs.

"How are you feeling?" His tone is one of gentle affection, the complete opposite of how he's been talking to Tony since they began.

He has to get this part right. Tony was very clear about that.

He stretches out, curls up at Obadiah's side, and very slowly smiles.

"God. That was amazing," he says, letting his eyes drift shut.

(Obadiah could perhaps be forgiven for thinking that with a reaction like that, they're out of the water already.

They really aren't.)

Obadiah smiles and puts an arm around Tony, kissing his forehead.

"It certainly was," he agrees.

Tony snuggles a little closer, all the better to luxuriate in the contact.

"Sorry about all the mean stuff I said," he thinks to add. "I love you."

Obadiah chuckles.

"I know you didn't mean any of it," he says. "Neither did I.

"You're definitely not a tease," he adds, a bit dry.

"God no." He laughs. "I won't lie, I had fun with that part, but I would actually not last five minutes trying to play keep-away just for shits. You turn me on way too much."

"I know," he says.

Smugly.

Then he laughs.

...Tony starts giggling.

They are not mocking giggles. They are the most affectionate giggles in the world.

Obadiah grins and ruffles his hair.

Tony seems like he feels just fine.

Seems like it, doesn't he.

But he's also being very very snuggly even for Tony Stark, and that is saying something.

"I love you," he repeats, mainly contented and just a little wistful.

Hmm.

Obadiah touches Tony's hair again, this time to smooth it gently down.

"I know."

Tony smiles.

The smile fades slowly, in no hurry, but it does fade.

All right, well. He hadn't really thought it would be this easy.

"Tony?" he asks after a moment.

He looks at Obadiah steadily, thoughtfully, with affection and no fear.

Quiet, calm: "How many times were you tempted to give me more than you thought I could take?"

Obadiah looks slightly rueful.

"A better question might be, how many times did I consider giving in to the temptation?"

Because god knows he never stopped being tempted.

"I wanted to keep going with the crop after I told you we were done. I wanted to pretend you weren't close to passing out when I was choking you.

"But I didn't."

"I know." His smile reappears, a wry twist of his lips, because he can hear the echo of Obadiah's words in his own voice and the contrast is striking. "And I love you. But—I have to know about it, you get that, right? It's... knowing it makes it okay."

"Of course."

That Obadiah understands completely. The more you know about a person - how they feel, what they want, how they react to any given stimulus - the better equipped you are to anticipate their next move and therefore know what your own next move should be. Obadiah's life is built on that understanding. It's not entirely dissimilar to what most people call trust. He just knows how to use it.

And he knows right now that Tony needs to be able to use it to bolster his own sense of comfort, and that Obadiah's own next best move is to help him do it. It will get them both what they want in the long run.

"Whatever else you need to know, just ask."

"Thanks."

He nestles against Obadiah's side, thinking. The smile seems to be sticking around for now, warmly affectionate.

It's kind of at odds with the next question:

"What was it like? What did you think about? When you wanted to push me too far."

He pauses, carefully, to give the question its appropriate weight and his answer the right amount of consideration.

"I suppose," he says slowly, "that that was when I got closest to not thinking at all. To wanting" (the complete control they were pretending he had) "to just let go and stop worrying and just enjoy myself. Those were the times when it would have been easiest to do that, when I could have scared you into cooperating for real."

Or broken him into it.

He wriggles up until he can kiss Obie's cheek.

"Thanks," he says softly. "For not doing it. You really could've had me the first time."

But not the second. The second time, Tony was flying. Obadiah could have choked him into unconsciousness and he would have come back as in love as he went out.