Written for my friend littlemoore (writingdestiny on LJ). Because she is amazing with Bruce/Jim fictions, and I decided I'd write a little Wayne/Stark for her.
Not beta'd. Written at 1:16 AM, and a hopeless attempt to get through writer's block. Kinda... drifts? I think. Sorry. Tired. All mistakes my own.
One-shot, because I'm just too lazy to write chapters to a whole story.
It was cute, in it's own way. The way the flashing lights were coming non-stop as they stepped out of any building. Tony Stark and Bruce Wayne weren't phased by it; it was a casual thing at first: introduced at fund raisers, run-ins at large parties, a business deal or two... then it got interesting. They began to set up lunch meetings, "stricktly buisness of course," Tony claimed. The "meetings" became more frequent and the media went wild.
Tony slid out his chair, sitting opposite of a smiling Bruce Wayne.
"Sorry, media jam," he picked up his menu and scanned it.
Bruce stayed silent, taking a few sips of his water and staring blankly. He turned his attention to Stark, who raised his eyes in questioning. "What?"
"I think we should tell them," Bruce whispered, leaning forward to maintain privacy.
"Are you sure that's wise?" Tony remarked. He let the menu fall to the table and placed a fist-hand under his chin, resting it on the table.
"I think so," Bruce smiled, reaching out for Tony's free hand. He stroked it softy with his thumb and awaited his reaction. Tony remained still, watching his movements in deep thought. He closed his eyes, then opened them suddenly as warm lips touched his own.
His natural reaction was to kiss back, and he did so, for a flash of a second. He pulled away in a startled motion, kicking his chair over as he stood. "S-sorry. Not here," he mumbled his apology, leaning over to pick up his chair, and promptly sitting in it again.
Bruce looked... unfazed. Tony hated how he was almost always a step ahead. He was the brains, wasn't he? He took a large drink of his amazingly predictable pre-ordered favorite scotch beverage and tried to regain his breathing.
"As I was saying," Bruce smiled, undisturbed by the outburst. "I was thinking it was a good time, since they are getting suspicious. I--"
"You just kissed me, of course they're getting "suspicious"!" Tony screamed in a hushed whisper, giving him a raspy voice.
"--believe we're ready. I would enjoy," Bruce palmed a hand over Tony's cheek, "being able to take you places... Call you my own."
Tony didn't want to say anything, both answers had upsides and downsides. The down out-weighing the up, unfortunately, in quantity. He measured the quality of those reasons in thought, running a finger over the rim of his glass.
"If, and I mean if, we were to go public... openly, then you have to understand there are priorities. Crime has been relativly low, so that's why I have been able to come here so often. However, things can change in a flash. If something were to happen to me, you know the media will be hounding you?" Tony took a sip of his drink, letting the words soak into Bruce.
"Yes," Bruce answered simply.
"Okay, then," Tony didn't know what to say. He seemed at a loss of words, Bruce tended to have that effect on him recently.
"So, if we go out there, right now," Bruce glanced at the distant restaurant door, "you'd hold my hand and not freak out?" He raised his left eye brow curiously and leaned back in his seat.
Tony paused, contemplating the consequences of the said action, he gulped and leaned forward. "If it'll make you happy, I won't." He smiled, taking Bruce's folded hands between his own.
"Good then," Bruce smirked.
After a delicious, filling lunch, the men rose from their seats and headed towards the door. Tony was about to open it when a "ah, ah, ah!" came from behind him. He sighed and rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, then turned to face Bruce. The man had out and extended hand and Tony took it; the Gotham billionaire smiled and led them through the doors, into the flashing havoc.
In almost an all-at-once gasp, there was a loud uproar of people speaking, asking questions, and just the general sound of cameras clicking. Tony, for the first time ever, felt self conscious to be in the spotlight. He pressed himself further into Bruce for support, and the man got the hint. Bruce wrapped an arm around his waist securely and guided them towards the awaiting limo. He didn't know why he felt better, but it did to be so closely to Bruce's form.
Alfred opened the door as they arrived, allowing them both inside, and then closing it quickly. Tony took a large breath, groaning a little as he breathed out. He never felt so nervous and relaxed at the same moment.
"We didn't exactly tell them," he observed, his hand reaching to hold Bruce's once more.
"We'll let them come to their own conclusions. They would even if we did give them a statement," Bruce said a-matter-of-factually.
"True, true," Tony felt a little more at ease now, a lifted weight perhaps, he didn't know. "You should come with me to New York," he looked up at Bruce.
"Ah, and why's that?" Bruce leaned forward and pulled out a few drinks from the small fridge.
"Well... since I have business to take care of, and I'm always visiting you, I thought maybe it'd be a nice chance for once," he mumbled the last part, realizing he was starting to sound... like a wife? He winced.
"I see," replied the other man, popping open a bottle of wine.
"Hey, I've noticed," Tony's eyebrows shuffled, "you never drink. Never." He accepted the filled glass anyway, taking a swig in the first 5 seconds of obtaining it.
"Not much of a drinker," he replied. Bruce slid an arm behind Tony's shoulders, pulling him close to hold.
They sat there in silence, the soft music and passing city keeping them distracted.
"I'll go with you," Bruce spoke up, placing his right hand on Tony's thigh.
"What? Really?"
"Of course, no reason you should do all the flying in the relationship," Bruce patted the man's knee.
Tony smiled, he was happy to have Bruce come with him to his playing field. He'll even get to see his suit, which was a bonus, but not as much as a bonus as having the man in his house in general. His house... Which had his bedroom... His thoughts remained there, the focus on his large, comfortable bed, with Bruce... ack. He pulled himself out of the thoughts.
Apparently, his thoughts were written all over his face, because Bruce was chuckling softly in a smug way. "Something you had in mind for this trip home?" Bruce's hand pointed towards Tony's obvious arousal. Okay, maybe not on his face, but in his pants. He cursed himself for losing himself, he really should put down the wine. Or maybe it was just Bruce's personality that was doing it to him?
As if reading his mind, again, Bruce took the two-thirds empty wine glass and placed it aside. His eyes stared into Tony's for a long moment before their lips met for a slow, soft kiss. It was an ice breaker for them, letting the discomfort of being nervous ease away and their true lust filled desires come out. It was always a chain reaction: the soft kiss, a moist tongue, roaming hands, then the accidental touch of a sensitive spot. A usual pattern of how they end up in a bed, or even in the limo if they can't wait to make it to the penthouse; and yet it always feels different, like the first time they've ever seen someone naked. A renewed lust for an unknown land, and that's how they liked it.
...
As Tony's back falls into the mattress, he feels an instant full-body relaxation. It wasn't how he planned it to happen; he planned to end up over Bruce, not under. But he'd take it this time, because it was easier that way. Bruce looked eager, as if it'd been a long time for him. Tony felt the same way...
...and then he realized it.
Not a lot of people are attracted to men who are terrorized by terrorist and then become a superhero, (a weird cause and effect, but eh?). He knew Bruce understood in some unbelievable way that it was a necessity in his life for him to feel needed and to do something for the greater good. It was probably from all the money he put into the police department and good lawyers, but he wasn't for sure.
And that's why as their breaths shallow and desperate, voices drowned in growls and moans, and bodies hot and restless, Tony felt more alive than he had anytime before. Because Bruce Wayne understood who he was and where he was coming from; they were just two people cut from the same fabric, in more ways than Tony would probably never know.