ironmonger | (no subject)

...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.

The first time, Obadiah notes. Interesting.

"Well," he says. "It wasn't too hard to remember what I really wanted."

Breaking Tony, while enjoyable in the moment, would not be conducive to his longterm goals.

Tony smiles again.

He's said it enough times already, really he has, but— "I love you."

Obadiah kisses him lightly.

"Speaking of which," he says, and picks up the container still sitting on the nightstand.

"This is a salve I got from the Bar. It'll help with the pain, and reduce the swelling if we make the first application soon."

He twists the container open.

"You're gonna love me a lot more tomorrow morning when you realize how sore you'd be for the next few days without it."

He beams.

"You're awesome," he declares.

"Of course I am," he agrees, smiling. "Do you want me to do it or would you rather do it yourself?"

"Mmm... you."

Because that way involves more touching. And Tony really needs a lot of physical contact right now.

"All right."

He'd expected that might be the answer, but thought it could also go the other way, that Tony might ache enough that he would prefer dealing with it himself.

He dips his fingers into the salve, which tingles pleasantly on his skin, and goes for Tony's nipples first before Tony can have time to think about it much.

After a startled moment, Tony grins lazily.

"I mentioned you're awesome, right?" he asks, shifting position on the bed to give Obadiah better access to his various bruises. Which means to his whole body, pretty much.

"You did," he says. "But I don't mind if you repeat yourself occasionally."

He applies the salve thoroughly and carefully, rubbing it in without using too much pressure. He likes the feel of Tony's skin under his hands, and he really likes the excuse to map out the various marks and bruises that Tony is going to have.

"You're going to be quite a sight once these have finished," he murmurs.

"Mmhmm," Tony agrees, the next thing to a purr.

"I like it."

"So do I."

He thinks of the bruises on Sherlock's throat.

"I look forward to seeing it."

Cheerfully: "I look forward to doing it again."