It happens to everyone - sometimes, you have nights where you just can't fall asleep, no matter what you do. It could be for a number of reasons, or no reason at all. And this is what's happened now: you've been laying in bed for what feels like hours, just tossing and turning, and nothing seems to help. So what's left to do? Get out of bed and go wake someone else up, of course. If you're not getting any sleep, then why should they?
i n s t r u c t i o n s • Post with your character (note the name and fandom in the subject).
• Other people reply to you by generating a number from 1 to 10.
• Have fun!
o p t i o n s 01 • FEAR. Maybe you're hearing strange, indeterminable noises; maybe there's a severe storm happening outside; maybe you watched a scary movie before bed? Whatever the reason, you're terrified and it's keeping you awake. You just want to wake someone else up so they can protect you from the monster in your closet.
02 • HUNGER. Your stomach is growling and it just won't stop. Or perhaps your throat is so dry you could cough up a tumbleweed? Well, you've gone to the kitchen to remedy this and hey, that was a pan that just dropped on the floor. It was loud enough to wake the dead! Oops.
03 • PAIN. Your body is completely worn out, be it from exercise, battle, sickness, or what have you. Either way you're in enough pain to keep you from sleeping, so maybe someone else has a home remedy or something, or can at least help you take your mind off of it.
04 • SOLITUDE. For some reason, your bed just feels so empty at the moment. You're feeling terribly lonely and really just want someone to keep you company for a while. Maybe it'd be easier to fall asleep if you're with them...
05 • DISCOMFORT. Your room is an oven. Either that or a freezer. Or maybe this bed is just really uncomfortable? Who knows why you can't get to sleep, it feels like it could be anything. Why even bother trying? Maybe someone else can preoccupy you until you feel tired enough to ignore your discomfort.
06 • PENSIVE. Something's on your mind, and no matter how hard you try to focus elsewhere, it's just not going to work. Your body may be tired, but your mind is incredibly busy and it's virtually impossible to get to sleep. Surely, talking it out with someone else will help?
07 • SADNESS. Something terrible has happened that day, perhaps; or you could just be severely depressed. Either way you're trying your hardest not to cry yourself to sleep, and it's not working at all. Better find a way to get it out of your system somehow; you need a shoulder to cry on.
08 • ANGER. You are just... fuming. Who knows why - that annoying dog is barking again, or maybe the people next door are getting busy and keeping you awake. Whatever the reason for your ire is, you'd better put an end to it so you can get some damn rest already! Go wake up a friend so you can complain to them.
09 • RESTLESS. You're far too energetic to sleep right now. Maybe you're just trying to do so out of necessity - you have to be up early tomorrow! But you just don't think you'll be able to fall asleep for a while now, so why waste the time trying to sleep when you could be doing something else? Namely bothering someone else - you're totally jealous because they're getting more sleep than you.
10 • WILDCARD. Choose one of the options above, or make up your own scenario. |
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bakerstreet2012-05-05 11:11 pm
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there's very few people he'll share a workspace with, one of which is an ai he developed himself, so it says volumes that he doesn't mind bruce being here, taking his time and tools. maybe it's an experiment of his own, observing him in his own element. there's always been something remarkably sexy about seeing science in motion and something threatening in all the right ways about a man or woman who could best him at it in general. he's managed to keep that fact under wraps though he's sure bruce is more attentive than he expects him to be-- that even being the repressed, sexless dweeb he is, he knows when someone shows interest in him. maybe that's why he ran away. interest is too dangerous.
the corners of his lips curl and his eyes narrow a fraction, ]
Usually I just get what I want. No imagination needed.
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of course, now he's also wondering what tony thinks he's getting out of this, right now, right here, with his hopelessly charming smiles and his cocky attitude that... pretty much draws anyone in. like a black hole. (tony would probably prefer to be called the sun, but bruce knows his orbits and none of them just swing around him idly.)]
In case I haven't been obvious about it, I'm not really in the habit of feeding people's egos. [eyebrow raise, and yes that's a little challenging but let's face it, bruce practically swooned over all the technology in the tower when he first got hit upside the head with it, and that's pretty much the most ego-boosting thing you can do. still, he knows tony is into the back-and-forth and it's nice being able to do that. even if it's kind of really heavy-handed with the ust. he can deal with that.]
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[ he leans away far too deceptively, popping another butterfinger piece into his mouth, eyes returning to the screen for now. really that big fat brain of his is working far too hard to figure out how to make this work (ie: win) without trying too hard for it. that, after all, is what he is best at. minimal effort, maximum pleasure.
it's a tough life, tbh.
he offers the box again without looking, minding to brush knuckles against the skin of bruce's arm ]
This is a pretty funny part. If you don't laugh, I don't think we can be friends.
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he doesn't make any move when he feels tony's knuckles on his arm, because he wasn't lying when he said he doesn't give in to people's egos (especially not someone who never needs to fight for his right to party, c'mon tony work for it), but he does reach over and
he straight up takes the box because that's his now. doesn't say anything though because he is invested in figuring out if this movie is actually funny or not.]
...I think I'm going to disappoint you.
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[ the way it's said implies oh so much more, far too casual, far too quick. the look he gives bruce is coy and infuriatingly knowing-- like he's already decided something, like he thinks he's right but it's not entirely clear what about. unless you take the painfully obvious.
and tony reaches to take the box back just as simply as bruce had. ]
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that analogy really isn't holding up, but bruce is focusing most of his energy on trying to read tony while looking like he's not doing anything of the sort. he just raises his eyebrows and rests his head against the back of the chair, comfortably tilting his head. go on, his expression says, next part of the equation, mr. stark.
he holds out his hand for some more butterfingers, wiggles his fingers a little even, more like he's saying bring it than hey can i have some candy. he wants to see if tony will just keep giving him what he's asking for.]
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well. he draws one out with his finger, laying the box on the arm and carefully bites off a little less than half, the chocolate already melting against his tongue. and when he moves then, it's with purpose, lifting from his seat and shifting to stand before him, looming almost. tony grasps bruce's face and giving him a split second of eye contact before ducking to press his lips to his, tongue pushing past his lips and despite the motion being invasive, it's hardly aggressive-- teasing, almost, the way the candy follows. he smiles against his mouth after that, saying simply, ]
There's more in the box,
[ before sliding without pretense to his knees before him. his own pulse is fluttering, afraid and intrigued-- this was impulsive and most likely insane but he watches bruce from where he was-- up at him now-- hands curving over his knees, gently prying them apart. ]
Just enjoy it. And watch the movie, Bruce. I think you'll like it.
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he's more surprised than freaked out and that's good, that's not as pulse-quickening, not as bad. his eyes are closed but then tony's smiling and speaking and moving away, so he opens his eyes and watches tony move, taking a breath. (also sucking on chocolate and thinking about tony's mouth in ways he hadn't thought about ever before.)]
Uh, [is all he's got before tony's hands are on his legs, and shit if he doesn't willingly do just what stark wants. he lets out some kind of quiet, anxious laugh.] You really don't take no for an answer, huh? [but that's not a no, especially not with the hitch in his voice.]
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and right now getting bruce banner to moan seemed like a good goal. he half wondered-- you know, if he was a quiet time. if spending so long trying to repress down that part of himself made him audibly repressed too. the thought of him sucking breaths to keep from making noise, shuddering, gasping... it really wasn't even about bruce right now, was it? it should be. he's one of the smartest men tony knows and that's saying something and in turn, recognizing this as he says low, "i told you, i get what i want," deftly sliding closer, right between his thighs, fingers deftly pressing buttons loose though he hesitates at the zipper.
yeah, maybe it was more than just because he could or that he wanted to make bruce behave in a way he could only honestly imagine-- maybe it was owning something bruce wasn't capable of himself and in turn besting him that way. who knows. he's no psychologist.
his fingers tug up his shirt (jeez you have body hair, man), ducking forward to leave a lingering kiss to his navel, right above that open button. there, he murmurs, ] Stop me if you need to, [ hands now finishing the job, unzipping, nose nudging fabric aside before drawing further down, mouthing the apex of his hip and thigh through fabric, breath warming the spot. ]
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he inhales sharp at the feeling of tony's mouth against his skin and pauses, considers, tries to think of if there's something to say to ease this situation out of being fucking terrifying for a lot of reasons but most importantly, mind your pulse bruce banner. there's not a lot of things the other guy will tolerate and this is not an exception.
(he remembers that orgasms only reach 150 to 175 bpm but that doesn't count the anticipation, the foreplay, the build up and all those emotions that might...)
he lets out a breath he didn't know he'd sucked in, deep into his lungs, and doesn't know what to do to keep himself from freaking out when tony starts mouthing at spots more intimate than his navel, already turned on to a strangely ridiculous degree, given how little has happened. (how long has he been so aroused? shit.) he doesn't know what to do with himself so he gives up trying to think things through, reaching a hand out to brush through tony's hair. why not. that's an easy thing to do, and more consuming than just sitting there.]
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he just likes to be touched. he likes to be adored. he needs it.
distracted, he peers up at him, fingers pressing over his growing arousal through these stupid pants before he ducks again to mouth over him through the fabric once more. he's not too much into this kind of shit-- teasing, foreplay, whatever-- but it almost feels necessary considering. you know, build him up slow or something. looks like he definitely wasn't losing this bet, either. tony makes a little noise of approval against him, urgency striking afterward, enough to make him draw back so he could curl his fingers into the hem of his pants, hesitating only to look up once more, expectantly.
you're the only man he'll ask permission from, bruce, you should appreciate that. ]
Can I...?
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he keeps losing track of his breathing, little spots blank from his mind and he's usually so good about that. even if he's got control over himself, that comes with a price of constantly watching everything his body does. but he misses a breath here and there, a hitch in the otherwise steady in-and-out of air through his nose - then through his mouth, a few times.
his hand keeps brushing through tony's hair. no reason to do it, because he could just sit back and let tony do whatever, and he's sure the other probably wouldn't mind that, but that wasn't bruce's style. he runs his fingernails across tony's scalp, along behind his ears - wherever is most convenient to reach. he's in a daze, because he's still not sure what the point of this is (or if it's even actually happening), but when tony speaks he draws his eyes to the other's.]
...Yeah. [and he barely recognizes his voice, because he already sounds out of fucking breath and raw, and this is not going to be that short. he has control and he will use it how he pleases. that includes lifting his hips, just a little.]
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it's curiosity that urges him to press his hands up his thighs again-- bare now-- to feel the muscle underneath, carefully avoiding his erection in favor of brushing his thumbs long over his hips and the line they make there. ]
Jeez, Bruce.
[ he says, sucking light on his bottom lip, biting it to keep from just-- going for it. which he did want to, which is weird but tony takes pride in doing things well and he's an excellent dick sucker. more things you learn about yourself, thankfully that one some time before he met bruce at all.
and he could tease, make him ask for it or something, but he's too impatient for that and when his hands round the sides of his hips and just hold, it's more to make sure he sits still as he moves in again, explores the path up his thigh and over his navel to his cock, letting it brush his cheek, beard. he's sure it's a weird sensation (he always gets comments on it), but he's also very into giving bruce things to think about later. when they're in the lab together alone and he sees tony rub the hair there at his cheek-- yeah, he'll remember.
finally, he turns, mouths back down to the base, not yet holding or steadying, just taking his time tasting, lapping, sucking light at skin alone. he'll get to it. just you wait. ]
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and here's bruce, hairy and slouching and kind of unfit (a little burly but after dealing with people like steve and tony and clint? no fucking way is he considered fit any more), and what the hell is he doing thinking about this right now.
he wants to ask about the bet, to joke, maybe get tony's mind off the fact that he could be doing a lot better things right now than this, but tony's mouth is far too hot against a normally untouched spot. spots. god. he feels tony's facial hair against his dick and fuck remembering later, he's already got pictures of that casual move in his head and fffuck.
his muscles immediately tense when tony stops messing around, and he bites his own lip hard (not enough pressure to pierce it if you wanted to, bruce, don't even try), and makes a quiet hissing noise against his teeth.]
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truly, tony could give less of a fuck what he looked like. maybe if he didn't know him and maybe if he wasn't as impressive he'd be more shallow but there are exceptions to every rule and tony finds that bruce manages to be an exception to many rules without trying.
a hand finally falls to curve over him, tony leaning back on his heels to watch how he fit in his hand, stopping only to spit in his palm to slicken his strokes. he wonders if he can feel the blood rushing through him-- if the "other guy" is watching too. that's decidedly less arousing, but he's always there, isn't he? waiting and looming. hulk and bruce, they come hand in hand. so to speak. he looks a little distracted thinking about this (thoughtlessly biting his lip), tuned out and tuned in all at the same time. and it's the way his head fits right in the crook of his thumb that brings him back, fingers squeezing light before sliding back down to the base so his mouth could follow.
and it does, without stopping, tip to base, throat opening without effort, nose touching his navel. it flexes around bruce, his throat, cheeks hollowing with a calculated suction (he's done this a lot, see), drawing back up him slow and easy. ]
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he doesn't think about the other guy. he makes an active effort not to. he just thinks about breathing and tony and tony's mouth where did he learn any of this and who did he have to thank?
he needs to say something, he needs to let out the deep feeling building in his gut, he wants to last longer than a few distracted fucking headbobs from tony stark. his breath escapes in a woosh of quiet air and,] Tony, christ.
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and when he feels bruce is close, he slows, draws up, he sucks hard until he's off and audibly so, not hesitating to lap the underside of the head, taking this time to glance up again, intending to look as wanton as possibly and probably just looking a little slutty but whatever, what's the difference. lips plump, he smiles against his dick, leaves a teasing little kiss right there at the tip. ]
Good?
[ he's a vain creature, alright, feed his ego a little. there's a promise in his eyes if you do tell me you can't resist that. ]
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--So, did you win the bet, or, uh. Am I gonna have to be upset that you thought so little of me. [because bruce is a nervous talker. and by nervous talker, i mean he doesn't know when to shut up sometimes.]
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Mmhm.
[ clint probably wouldn't be as interested about this part, but tony takes his victories in his own way. stroking him idly, taking gratuitous little licks here and there, he continues, ]
I didn't think you could do this. [ his eyes drop to the work at hand (no pun intended), hand sliding straight down to the base, holding him to attention. yeah, he definitely wins. there's just a moment of curious silence before he says, glancing up again with that guarded, sly look, ] Do you want to come on my face? [ and then, as if saying it explained everything, he follows simply, ] I don't swallow.
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well holy shit, banner. what do you say to that?]
I...
[not a whole lot, apparently. he feels a little ashamed of himself for being a full grown man but still being so easily shocked by any degree of sexual bluntness, puts it off on his condition and tries to buy himself a moment to think by leaning forward enough to bring his hand through tony's hair again. it's kind of soothing to have that connection. ...well, when in doubt:]
Is that the sort of thing you want? [awkward smile, painfully awkward, tony don't make me be awkward here,] After all, you're kind of, uh. Calling the shots, here.
no subject
his lids droop again in an overtly pleased way when bruce touches his hair, tilting, craning to mouth a kiss to his wrist and it's strangely affectionate, not that tony thinks of it that way. eager, maybe. he can settle for eager. but then he's reaching to take bruces hand, guiding it to his own cock with a look that says take care of this as his own then drops to dip beneath the stretchy waist of his pjs (let's not talk about how he's giving bruce a show in them in the first place) and he's not as delicate about grasping himself, exhaling unevenly with another pleased look before fixing his gaze on him again, ]
C'mon, nnhm. It's-- up to you, Bruce. I can finish-- [ he lifts his hips into his own hand with a low noise, the way he watches bruce's face almost reverent-- like he's getting off on just this, ] You however. Just ask.
[ his free hand rises then to grasp bruce's thigh for leverage, squeezing, ]
What's something you want, huh? Tell me.