ironmonger | (no subject)

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."

He glances up with a smile.

"'Cause that was definitely worth repeating."

His smile is maybe half pleasant anticipation, half enjoyment of Obadiah's hands on his skin.

Obadiah allows himself to look just as pleased as he feels. That was exactly what he's been working toward hearing.

"Definitely," he says. "Was there anything you especially liked?"

He knows the answers, but he'd like to hear them from Tony.

"God, all of it? I loved the gun." He shivers happily, remembering. "And I liked—I mean it drove me fucking nuts, but I liked when you left me alone like that."

Obadiah pulls one last glove out of the box and puts it on, nudging Tony's thighs apart for the final salve application.

"I owe you a little more time with the gun," he says, deliberately timing the remark to coincide with the careful press of his fingers. "Maybe use it a bit sooner next time. Listening to you in here shook my control a little more than I'd realized it would." He doesn't mind admitting it, because it's the kind of thing he'd usually keep to himself and thus the kind of thing Tony will want to hear right now.

It's not quite the same thing as admitting to a weakness, anyway.

"...you think too much," he says, half-laughing, "but fuck, do I ever love it sometimes."

That would be an indication that he noticed the timing.

"Mm, I definitely want another round with the gun." It's possible that just thinking about it is already having an effect. "I liked when you made me admit how much I wanted it," he adds, entirely without shame.

Oh, to be eighteen again.

"I liked when I didn't have to make you."

"That part was good too."

Obadiah smiles at him, finishing up and pulling off the glove.

"Is that better?" he asks.

"Yep."

He leans in for a kiss.

"Thanks."

Obadiah lets the kiss linger, stroking Tony's cheek.

"You're welcome."

Tony looks infinitely pleased.

He also snuggles right up again. Sorry, Obadiah, this is going to be a long haul. A long, cuddly haul.

He can live with that. Every pleasure has a price to pay. He puts his arm around Tony again.

"Let me know when you get cold," he murmurs. He's still fully clothed, has been the whole time, but Tony isn't. "Or hungry."

"I have you to warm me up," he points out, grinning. "Fuck, I'm starved, though."