ironmonger | (no subject)

(no subject)

"After you."

Obadiah holds the door open for Tony.

Everything inside is ready, though nothing looks any different from usual. (Aside from the door to the bedroom being ajar rather than either fully open or closed.)

[OOC: Trigger warning for consensual rape fantasy scenario! Proceed with caution.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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."

"Well," Obadiah says, "if you think you can stand to let me go for two minutes, I have just the thing for that."

"I think I can manage."

But judging by the half-second it takes him to say it, it was a legitimate question to ask.

"I won't be long," Obadiah assures him. "I don't even have to go downstairs. I've got it all ready up here."

It seemed prudent.

"...You are a miracle," says Tony. "I love you. Again. Still. Lots."

He smiles and kisses Tony's forehead, then gets up and goes first to the bathroom to clean up, and then out to the outer room to get their food.

He flops out on the bed.

Ten seconds and he's bored.

Twenty and he's a little bit anxious.

Not long after Obadiah steps into the outer room, Tony starts going through the Scary Box.

He has everything gathered together already, of course; it takes longer to wash the salve and the smell of rubber from his hands than it does to get their meal.

It's actually been slightly under two minutes when he returns with a pizza and a six-pack of Coke.

"Still love you," Tony says happily, glancing back at him. "Jesus, half this stuff is for show, right?"

"Of course it is," he says, putting the pizza box down between them on the bed and tugging a can out of its ring to hand it to Tony. "A couple of those aren't even meant for use by humans."

Obadiah believes in taking full advantage of the kind of access to other-world technology and inventions Milliways grants.

He rolls closer to the pizza, giggling, and accepts the can.

"Guess I really called it about the Tsar Cannon, then, huh."