IHTFP [Tony - Wednesday afternoon-ish]
Oct. 24th, 2012 08:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
playboy_philanthropistmore co-writing with N and NSFW-ish behind the cut
It's a long fucking climb up to A entry after a fire alarm.
He could take the elevator up instead of the stairs, but everyone is taking the elevator, and he's not in the mood to deal with everyone at 2:30 in the morning. So he takes the stairs, slowly but surely, until he gets to his room and chucks his coat and pants over his chair.
"You're late," the young man says, sprawled in boxers and a thin shirt on the twin bed - his twin bed - and Tony rolls his eyes. He’ll need to talk to his supposed bodyguards about this... “Took your time?”
Tony thinks of something to say, but he never gets that far. The moment he sits down on the bed, he grabs the plastic cup sitting on the desk next to the bed and drinks the cool, watered-down liquor in it. The young man pushes himself up as Tony drinks, and when he’s done, he leans in for a kiss. Tony sets the cup back down as he slides his other hand through thick black hair, and soon he’s sprawled over his guest, absently trying to find the best way to organize long, lanky limbs on this small-ass bed.
Hands sprawl over his ass to pull his hips down so that their hips grind together, and Tony moans against the young man’s mouth. Even through the haze of exhaustion and alcohol, the friction feels electric, especially when the young man's hips buck up into his. Soon, their bodies begin to move in a desperate rhythm, their cocks rubbing through thin cotton. "Fuck," he hears himself whisper, and he pulls back only to kiss and bite at this young man's throat, pale and perfect underneath his lips.
But then something's pulling at his boxers. He moans into a bare shoulder as a hand wraps around his cock, stroking him firmly, and then, through some more shifting, Tony's own hand snakes down, taking both of their cocks in his grip to maximize the friction of every thrust. God, he has two p-sets due tomorrow and he just doesn’t care, he’s going to cum all over that green shirt -
Tony hissed out a swear as his forehead bumped against the cool glass of the window. He blinked blurredly around the interior of the Rolls Royce, his brain split between reality and the remnants of his old dorm room at MIT. Honking and swearing came from the front seat of the car. He closed his eyes, rubbing his hand over them as he slid himself farther up in his seat. He groaned in frustration when he realized it was another one of those dreams again and goddammit, why couldn’t he at least get to the end of one of these dreams? He was in fucking college in them, it wouldn’t take that long for crying out loud. The nightmares never had the good graces to end early.
“What the fuck, Happy,” he growled out.
He only felt a little bad when Happy jumped in surprise and caught his eyes in the rearview mirror. “Boss?”
He waved a hand dismissively. “Aren’t we home yet?” He still felt groggy, but he at least remembered where he was. The meeting that required him specifically by name instead of Pepper. Having Happy drive because he didn’t want to deal with the awful traffic. The lack of sleep catching up to him and deciding that taking a nap was better than bouncing off the back seat while waiting to get home. Or going through too much of the bottle of scotch in the car. Well, so much for that. He grabbed the scotch, opened it, and took swig.
“Just another block now.” Happy’s eyes were looking back at him from the rearview again. “You alright?”
“You know me and meetings,” Tony said with a smirk that dissolved into an eyeroll at the ‘bullshit’ look that Happy shot him. “What? Fine, you’d be cranky too if someone’s shit driving woke you up from a good dream.”
Tony smirked at the indignant look Happy shot him.
“Shit driving? You better not be calling me driving shit driving. You want shit driving, you can drive and deal with all the fuckin’ cab-”
“Yeah, yeah, so boxing when we get back?” Tony asked, talking right over the rest of Happy’s rant. “I need to blow off some steam.”
“Sounds like you need a different type of blowing,” Happy said with a laugh as he pulled into the garage. “You whine about good dreams and expect me to want to box you?”
Tony smirked and pat Happy on the shoulder as he parked the car. “Wouldn’t be the first time,” he pointed out with a smug look before slipping out of the car. “See you in the ring in ten minutes.”
It's a long fucking climb up to A entry after a fire alarm.
He could take the elevator up instead of the stairs, but everyone is taking the elevator, and he's not in the mood to deal with everyone at 2:30 in the morning. So he takes the stairs, slowly but surely, until he gets to his room and chucks his coat and pants over his chair.
"You're late," the young man says, sprawled in boxers and a thin shirt on the twin bed - his twin bed - and Tony rolls his eyes. He’ll need to talk to his supposed bodyguards about this... “Took your time?”
Tony thinks of something to say, but he never gets that far. The moment he sits down on the bed, he grabs the plastic cup sitting on the desk next to the bed and drinks the cool, watered-down liquor in it. The young man pushes himself up as Tony drinks, and when he’s done, he leans in for a kiss. Tony sets the cup back down as he slides his other hand through thick black hair, and soon he’s sprawled over his guest, absently trying to find the best way to organize long, lanky limbs on this small-ass bed.
Hands sprawl over his ass to pull his hips down so that their hips grind together, and Tony moans against the young man’s mouth. Even through the haze of exhaustion and alcohol, the friction feels electric, especially when the young man's hips buck up into his. Soon, their bodies begin to move in a desperate rhythm, their cocks rubbing through thin cotton. "Fuck," he hears himself whisper, and he pulls back only to kiss and bite at this young man's throat, pale and perfect underneath his lips.
But then something's pulling at his boxers. He moans into a bare shoulder as a hand wraps around his cock, stroking him firmly, and then, through some more shifting, Tony's own hand snakes down, taking both of their cocks in his grip to maximize the friction of every thrust. God, he has two p-sets due tomorrow and he just doesn’t care, he’s going to cum all over that green shirt -
Tony hissed out a swear as his forehead bumped against the cool glass of the window. He blinked blurredly around the interior of the Rolls Royce, his brain split between reality and the remnants of his old dorm room at MIT. Honking and swearing came from the front seat of the car. He closed his eyes, rubbing his hand over them as he slid himself farther up in his seat. He groaned in frustration when he realized it was another one of those dreams again and goddammit, why couldn’t he at least get to the end of one of these dreams? He was in fucking college in them, it wouldn’t take that long for crying out loud. The nightmares never had the good graces to end early.
“What the fuck, Happy,” he growled out.
He only felt a little bad when Happy jumped in surprise and caught his eyes in the rearview mirror. “Boss?”
He waved a hand dismissively. “Aren’t we home yet?” He still felt groggy, but he at least remembered where he was. The meeting that required him specifically by name instead of Pepper. Having Happy drive because he didn’t want to deal with the awful traffic. The lack of sleep catching up to him and deciding that taking a nap was better than bouncing off the back seat while waiting to get home. Or going through too much of the bottle of scotch in the car. Well, so much for that. He grabbed the scotch, opened it, and took swig.
“Just another block now.” Happy’s eyes were looking back at him from the rearview again. “You alright?”
“You know me and meetings,” Tony said with a smirk that dissolved into an eyeroll at the ‘bullshit’ look that Happy shot him. “What? Fine, you’d be cranky too if someone’s shit driving woke you up from a good dream.”
Tony smirked at the indignant look Happy shot him.
“Shit driving? You better not be calling me driving shit driving. You want shit driving, you can drive and deal with all the fuckin’ cab-”
“Yeah, yeah, so boxing when we get back?” Tony asked, talking right over the rest of Happy’s rant. “I need to blow off some steam.”
“Sounds like you need a different type of blowing,” Happy said with a laugh as he pulled into the garage. “You whine about good dreams and expect me to want to box you?”
Tony smirked and pat Happy on the shoulder as he parked the car. “Wouldn’t be the first time,” he pointed out with a smug look before slipping out of the car. “See you in the ring in ten minutes.”
