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playboy_philanthropistco-written with N. ^-^ A bit NSFW behind the cut
The building is almost always open - and even if it’s not, Tony always finds a way in. His advisor says he shouldn't work alone; he meets the old man half-way and at least keeps his two-in-the-morning activities to the circuit labs, where there’s nothing more than a soldering iron and a few test volts. Child’s play, but it’s better than sitting bored in his dorm room. Especially since he needs to bribe one of the legal seniors to buy him booze again.
From the window he can see the back of the Great Dome, all lit up and free of hackers tonight. For now. He should see to that soon, Tony thinks; it’s been too long since he’s seen all of Cambridge and Boston laid out in front of him.
“Busy, Stark?” A voice purrs in his ear as a hand clasps at his shoulder. Tony jumps, sitting up rigid, but that hand keeps him in his chair. He looks over to see who it is, but whoever they are, they feel as familiar as this room with tables and tables of computers and scopes.
This person - this young man, wearing one of those terrible department shirts course 8 hands out - kneels next to him, and all Tony can make out is short black hair. The chair swivels slowly, a little by the push of this visitor, but mostly by his own curiosity. Not a fiber of his being can deny this: a willing mouth between his legs. Especially when there were so many willing mouths wanting a piece of the Tony Stark.
Skilled, pale hands tug at his belt and his zipper, and Tony sinks his fingers through thick black hair without thinking. The machine he’s been working on sits on the desk, lonely, and Tony gives it a brief look (Sorry, baby.) before he looks down. He needs a bit of a break anyways. Fingers are already pulling at the hem of his boxers, almost tentative, but once they hook, they pull firm to free his cock, and a warm hand wraps around it - familiar, certain.
He can almost feel the Dome staring down at him in disapproval. Which really just makes the situation ten times hotter.
“Do you mind?” the young man asks with a slow stroke of his cock, and he leans closer until his lips can almost brush the head. “I know you have a project, but...” And then just like that, the young man gives his cock a slow lick before taking it into his mouth, and everything is warm and wet and so, so dangerous. The lab’s doors are all open, anyone could walk in, but something tells him no one would be half as dangerous as the young man before him, and that’s enough to let Tony relax and stare up at the speckled grey ceiling, canting his hips up -
He lurched downwards as his chair slid out from under him. He caught himself on the edge of his work table, but not quickly enough to save his knees from banging into the floor He winced, hissing in the breath, but the spark of pain was fleeting considering how tightly wound his body was. Warm and needy, far too needy, and breathless. It took him far too long to focus on his surroundings. Not MIT. And from the aches and the way his heart was hammering against metal and the faint glow on the table in front of him, definitely not college aged.
Pushing himself up to standing, he groaned deep in his throat with frustration. Well that was uncomfortable. He made the mistake of closing his eyes, the images from the dream flooding his mind and making just sticking his hand down his jeans to get himself off seem like a great idea. Except that some part of him felt oddly guilty about that. Maybe because the dream was so vivid. He was used to vivid dreams, but right now the nightmares felt easier to deal with. Those he could just push deep down in that place where he always pushed all his issues and problems. But this type of yearning... Well, he hadn’t felt it quite this strong in awhile.
He rubbed his hand over his eyes as he shook his head and shut down his computers. He was working too much. Had too much on his mind His brain was just trying to escape that. Regress into a simpler, happier time. He just needed to get to bed. Relax there and let his mind unwind. He shifted and another odd pang of guilt went through him. Shower. Then bed. Yeah, that was a good plan.
The building is almost always open - and even if it’s not, Tony always finds a way in. His advisor says he shouldn't work alone; he meets the old man half-way and at least keeps his two-in-the-morning activities to the circuit labs, where there’s nothing more than a soldering iron and a few test volts. Child’s play, but it’s better than sitting bored in his dorm room. Especially since he needs to bribe one of the legal seniors to buy him booze again.
From the window he can see the back of the Great Dome, all lit up and free of hackers tonight. For now. He should see to that soon, Tony thinks; it’s been too long since he’s seen all of Cambridge and Boston laid out in front of him.
“Busy, Stark?” A voice purrs in his ear as a hand clasps at his shoulder. Tony jumps, sitting up rigid, but that hand keeps him in his chair. He looks over to see who it is, but whoever they are, they feel as familiar as this room with tables and tables of computers and scopes.
This person - this young man, wearing one of those terrible department shirts course 8 hands out - kneels next to him, and all Tony can make out is short black hair. The chair swivels slowly, a little by the push of this visitor, but mostly by his own curiosity. Not a fiber of his being can deny this: a willing mouth between his legs. Especially when there were so many willing mouths wanting a piece of the Tony Stark.
Skilled, pale hands tug at his belt and his zipper, and Tony sinks his fingers through thick black hair without thinking. The machine he’s been working on sits on the desk, lonely, and Tony gives it a brief look (Sorry, baby.) before he looks down. He needs a bit of a break anyways. Fingers are already pulling at the hem of his boxers, almost tentative, but once they hook, they pull firm to free his cock, and a warm hand wraps around it - familiar, certain.
He can almost feel the Dome staring down at him in disapproval. Which really just makes the situation ten times hotter.
“Do you mind?” the young man asks with a slow stroke of his cock, and he leans closer until his lips can almost brush the head. “I know you have a project, but...” And then just like that, the young man gives his cock a slow lick before taking it into his mouth, and everything is warm and wet and so, so dangerous. The lab’s doors are all open, anyone could walk in, but something tells him no one would be half as dangerous as the young man before him, and that’s enough to let Tony relax and stare up at the speckled grey ceiling, canting his hips up -
He lurched downwards as his chair slid out from under him. He caught himself on the edge of his work table, but not quickly enough to save his knees from banging into the floor He winced, hissing in the breath, but the spark of pain was fleeting considering how tightly wound his body was. Warm and needy, far too needy, and breathless. It took him far too long to focus on his surroundings. Not MIT. And from the aches and the way his heart was hammering against metal and the faint glow on the table in front of him, definitely not college aged.
Pushing himself up to standing, he groaned deep in his throat with frustration. Well that was uncomfortable. He made the mistake of closing his eyes, the images from the dream flooding his mind and making just sticking his hand down his jeans to get himself off seem like a great idea. Except that some part of him felt oddly guilty about that. Maybe because the dream was so vivid. He was used to vivid dreams, but right now the nightmares felt easier to deal with. Those he could just push deep down in that place where he always pushed all his issues and problems. But this type of yearning... Well, he hadn’t felt it quite this strong in awhile.
He rubbed his hand over his eyes as he shook his head and shut down his computers. He was working too much. Had too much on his mind His brain was just trying to escape that. Regress into a simpler, happier time. He just needed to get to bed. Relax there and let his mind unwind. He shifted and another odd pang of guilt went through him. Shower. Then bed. Yeah, that was a good plan.
