ironmonger | (no subject)

(no subject)

The past few days are finally starting to take their toll on Obadiah when Milliways appears tonight. It's mostly over, save for tracking down the masterminds and dealing with them. Tony is fine - physically, at least - and Sherlock hardly the worse for wear despite the blow to the head he took. In terms of physical damage, the worst they got was Jones's broken leg. In terms of publicity, they're doing well; Stark Industries is front page news. Everyone likes a happy ending.

He's still looking very much forward to making the assholes in charge of the operation pay the price, but for now he's more than happy to settle in at the fireplace with a drink. And, at Bar's insistence, dinner.

[OOC: Warning for painplay and consensual breaking of safewords at some point after the six-hundred-comment mark. This one kind of got away from us.]

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It's interesting to watch the transformation when he knows it's coming and is paying attention. He still can't quite pinpoint the moment when Sherlock disappears beneath Tony, even though he knows there must be one.

(He changes as well, more subtly, in anticipation of dealing with Tony and the events ahead.)

And he flashes Tony's smile, bright with anticipation, as he wriggles out of all the rest.

Tony is so innocent. He can look forward to getting hit with a belt and be this cheerfully unworried about it, because he trusts Obadiah and he thinks it will be fun.

As always, he takes the time to run his gaze slowly over Tony once he's fully undressed. He never gets tired of that.

(It's easy enough to mentally edit out the slight differences between Sherlock's body and Tony's. Most of them are less obvious than the scars on his neck, and in any case both bodies are equally appealing on a visual level.

Sherlock, of course, doesn't bear the marks he is so looking forward to seeing on Tony, but Obadiah can let that go easily enough.)

(Sherlock's hair is noticeably longer, his muscles a little more defined. Small, subtle things, relatively easy to ignore. The scars are by far the most obvious permanent difference, and even they are unobtrusive in the right light.)

He grins and lets Obie look, happy to show off, then steps forward to kiss him because there's no way he could not.

Obadiah indulges him, sliding his hands slowly over Tony's bare waist as they kiss.

For no reason other than that he is happy and in love, he giggles, resting his hands on Obie's shoulders and pressing close to him.

"Tell me what you want," he invites.

"Take off my tie," he murmurs.

His hands on Tony's waist slide down a little lower.

Now that's a promising suggestion.

Smiling, he does. Obadiah's hands are a bit of a distraction, but he can enjoy them and still work on unknotting the tie.

It's all right if Tony gets a little distracted.

He can pay for it later.

Well, he does manage to take off Obadiah's tie.

He just does it maybe a bit more slowly, and with a bit more delighted wriggling, than he could have.

He always enjoys how responsive Tony is. He lingers for a moment longer before taking his tie from Tony and stepping back.

"What do you think?" he asks. "Should I just tie your hands or would you like me to tie you to the bed?"

"Tie me to the bed," he says immediately, no doubt reminiscing about the last time Obadiah did that. Unafraid to give up control.

He smiles approvingly: this was obviously the answer he wanted.

"All right."

He kisses Tony once more, infusing the gesture with considerable affection, then turns to lead the way to the bedroom.

Beaming, a tiny bit nervous but mostly excited, he follows.

Nodding toward the bed, Obadiah says,

"Face down. Hands over your head." Also similiar to before.

"Okay."

He is a little more nervous, but a lot more excited, as he obeys. He turns his head so he can watch Obadiah while he's lying there.

He drapes the tie over Tony's back for a moment, to focus on unbuckling and removing his belt.

He makes a bit of a show of it.

It's... what's the word?

Captivating.

Obadiah looks up and smiles at Tony as he pulls the belt from the beltloops. Then he swaps it for the tie, laying the belt neatly across Tony's back so he can feel it there as Obadiah starts tying his hands to the bed.

His eyes flutter closed and he takes a breath, quiet but audible, too slow to be a gasp.

"Damn, you're good," he sighs with its release, and offers no resistance whatsoever.

Obadiah chuckles as he works on his knots.

"That's why you love me," he says.

"One of the many, many reasons," he agrees.

"There," he says after a moment, sitting back. "Give that a tug, see if it holds."

(It will. Obadiah is good at knots.)

"Don't worry about stretching the tie, I can get another." Isn't he thoughtful?

The tie holds up to a thorough, if not heartfelt, attempt to pull away.

"Yep," he confirms. "You've got me, all right."

And he loves Obadiah and trusts him and it will be okay. It will be awesome.

(And he wonders, somewhere far away under all that, how many people Obadiah has tied to beds in exactly this fashion. But he does not pursue the thought, does not allow it to interfere with the pleasure of the moment.)

"Good."

Obadiah rubs his hand gently down over Tony's back, moving the belt lower as he does so.

"Would you like a little something lighter to warm up first, or would you rather get right to it?"