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Bruce and Tony are well established, everyone knows it, because Tony can’t keep his conquests secret and because he wants everyone to know Bruce is his and to back off. Bruce frequently tells him that this isn’t a problem, wondering why anyone but someone as crazy as Tony would want him.
This is, of course, said in an affectionate and grateful voice. He loves that Tony loves him too. They are both delightfully happy in this relationship.
That said, there is something that bothers Tony a little. He might have a voracious sexual appetite, but it wouldn’t hurt not to be the one initiating once in a while. He knows Bruce enjoys it, he reciprocates with way too much enthusiasm not to. Its not that Tony always tops, it’s just he always starts it.
It’s such a non-issue though, that he never really cares to mention it. He gets sex whenever he wants it, He loves Bruce, Bruce loves him. Why complain? (well okay Bruce could switch to paperless notes because having them scattered all over his work table gets annoying.)
But Tony isn’t really thinking about this, he’s not really thinking about anything outside of repairing the Cobra in his garage (He hasn’t had much time to fix it since he fell on it, what with being Iron Man and all), He has the chassis rebuilt, but he’s currently fighting with the engine, trying to get to an awkward part he can’t reach from the underside, but has to dig and nearly stand on tiptoe to get to.
He kind of forgot what underwear he put on this morning, which honestly stopped being important to him as soon as he stepped into the garage.
He forgot that the pair he had picked out is made of red satin, has a lovely black lace trim, and little to no back coverage. Oh and that they’re cut for a woman, of course. But that bit was probably obvious. He’d worn them to that press conference earlier, because it’s kind of a thrill for him to have such a secret, a possibly demeaning secret almost visible if he moves just right in front of all those people and cameras.
He just hadn’t bothered to swap them out when he went for the jeans and tank top look in the garage.
He becomes very quickly aware of it a moment later however, when bent over the car suddenly there is a warm body pressed against him from behind, a big hand sliding up his thigh to his hip and then snapping the elastic of his panties against his skin. He barely has time to register it’s Bruce before he’s straightened up to press more of himself against him with a groan, a shiver running down his spine.
This was a particular kink that hadn’t been explored with Bruce.
“What are these?” Bruce rasps against Tony’s ear, and Tony is putty in his hands in an instant when Bruce’s fingers twist in the lace waistband, stretching the fabric tight against his ass and over his burgeoning erection.
Tony grins wolfishly, head dropping back against Bruce’s shoulder and turning to speak against his ear. “You like ‘em?” He murmurs, and gets his answer in a way he doesn’t expect. Bruce yanks on the lace, hiking them up and tightening the fabric so Tony groans, and pushes forward against him so Tony can feel the length of his erection against his ass.
Tony’s next moan is shakier than he would like to admit. He wonders if Bruce will slam the hood shut and take him right there over his hot little vintage sports car. It seems like that’s an experiment for another time, however, because when Bruce’s fingers trail along the lace edge and find the head of Tony’s cock peeking just above the lace he growls “Bedroom. Now.”
Tony is only too happy to comply.
Bruce crashes into him again as soon as the door closes, and Tony thinks he could get used to this, big strong hands roaming over every inch of him as if he wants him so much he doesn’t know where to start. Slipping into the back of his now unbuttoned jeans to trace the small amount of satin between his cheeks, to grope and fondle.
Tony laughs hoarsely when Bruce bites at his neck, wriggling his hips back and forth suggestively “Guess you do like ‘em then. Maybe I should just wear these all the time, only for you to know about. You’d always wonder what pair I was wearing, the dark blue lace ones? The red with the frills…”
He gasps with surprise when Bruce quite literally picks him up without effort and throws him face down onto the bed. He lifts his head to protest, but instead throws it back and moans when Bruce bites down just above the waistband of his jeans and pulls back with lace in his teeth to snap it against Tony’s skin again.
Oh fuck, that’s hot. Maybe Tony will wear these around the house more often…
“Why do you wear them, Tony?” Bruce is growling into his skin as he strips him, yanking his jeans down and groaning in appreciation when he gets to see the full effect of them, drawn tight from the bulge in the front. “Tell me. In detail.”
Tony would do anything to get him to bite his ass like that again, he stutters out the start through a moan. “I-I wear them for, like conferences and stuff. Just out, sometimes. Cos—Cos I like knowing something is private, there’s something about me they don’t know…”
“Turns you on, huh, Tony?” Bruce asks him, and licks a stripe over the satin that makes Tony absolutely whimper. “It’s the thrill of maybe getting caught, someone seeing that little peek of lace…” Another lave of his tongue and Tony squirms. ”What else?”
“I like the way they feel,” Tony says in a breathless rush, gripping at the sheets and wondering why he doesn’t just turn over, grab Bruce, kiss him senseless. Get down to what he wants… Bruce doesn’t even have hands on him except oh now he does, to spread his cheeks and lick the satin again. “S-so small and soft, the way the lace moves, how it… it just fits and cradles my cock—fuck! Bruce!”
Bruce’s tongue is swirling around him now, and with the added sensation of the damp satin Tony feels like he might come undone just from that. He bows his head forward into the bed and just tries to breathe. Bruce slides one hand under him and palms the erection straining against the fabric that barely contains it and Tony groans and bucks against him, close to the begging point.
Bruce doesn’t ask him to roll over, doesn’t tell him, like he normally would, he simply sits back and grabs Tony’s hips and does it himself and Tony shivers. He feels at Bruce’s mercy and he loves it. He’s definitely going to go out and buy a hundred more pairs of panties and wear them way more often.
Bruce ducks his head between Tony’s legs, kneeling on the floor while Tony’s legs hang over the edge of the bed. Bruce nuzzles at the satin fabric over Tony’s cock and it’s all he can do to keep from arching up. He buries a hand in Bruce’s hair, looking down with pupil-blown eyes and mouth open.
Bruce likes a stripe up the underside of his cock, kisses open mouthed up the side, even scrapes his teeth until he has Tony tossing his head, then leans up and takes the head of his cock in his mouth. He sucks, tasting the fabric and tasting Tony and groaning at the taste of them together. He flicks his tongue and makes Tony mewl like a kitten. When he pulls back he eyes the wet spot and decides he wants to see Tony cum in them.
And he tells him so, narrowing his eyes as he palms his own erection through his jeans, “I wanna see you cum in these Tony,” When Tony gasps and shudders Bruce grins and continues, “and every time you wear them after all you’ll be thinking about is this. When you’re up there talking about all the good Stark Industries is doing for the world, you’ll be thinking about the time I made you cum in your panties like a girl. How I made you beg to. “
Tony keens and Bruce smirks and decides that’s enough torture… for now. He bows his head again, yanks the tiny strip of satin running between Tony’s cheeks aside and pushes his thighs apart. Tony’s hand scrabble for a hold on the comforter as he gasps jumbled curses when Bruce’s tongue begins to expertly lick him open.
Tony’s gasping nonsense curses, tossing his head on the bed while a finger joins Bruce’s tongue, keeping the painful friction at bay with constant strokes of his tongue, keeping everything wet with saliva.
When Bruce crooks this finger to rub relentlessly at Tony’s prostate and Tony is finished shouting, he realizes he’s going to have to beg Bruce to move on to the next step. So he does, breathless and pleading, “Bruce—More. Come on, please. Fuck me, Banner.”
Bruce get the lube out of the drawer and Tony sighs in relief. Any more of that and he was going to cum in his panties without even getting fucked to make it really worth it. He jumps at the cold feeling, then groans at the sensation of cool, slick fingers sliding into him.
Bruce must be eager too, because he’s definitely multitasking. Stretching Tony open with one hand, shoving his own jeans off with the other, and licking and kissing Tony’s cock through the fabric, which is growing damp again with leaking precum. He spares no time getting Tony ready and leaning back, stripping off his shirt and straightening up.
He yanks Tony closer to the edge of the bed, so that he has to brace his feet on the floor or slide off, and lines himself up. “Ready to cum in your pretty panties, Tony?” He growls against Tony’s ear, and Tony’s yes turns into “Yeeesssssssss” As Bruce pushes into him, thick and burning hot and perfect.
Bruce doesn’t hesitate, the sensation of Tony tight and hot and shuddering around him at the intrusion, coupled with the press of the satin against the side of his cock is already driving him crazy. He puts one hand on Tony’s chest, the other hitching his hips up for a better angle, and as he thrusts quick and deep he drinks the sight in.
Tony arched up off the bed, hands above his head to keep him better balanced, all long lines and lean muscle, beautiful in the masculine sense, and then the panties, delicately feminine, clinging to his hips and making them appear shapelier, wet from his mouth and Tony’s precum, Tony’s cock straining against the lace at the top and his own big hand spread across his chest possessively. He murmurs things like beautiful and so pretty and fucking gorgeous all spread out for me, you’ve even got a little bow on, like a present.
He growls and fucks him harder when he feels Tony completely relaxed against the intrusion, lifting his hips for a better angle as if he weighs nothing, and Tony moans again. He always loves it when Bruce proves he’s not strong only when he’s big and green. He rocks his hips back to meet one of Bruce’s thrusts and shouts.
He doesn’t know how Bruce knows these things, like he learned some sort of Kama Sutra shit when he was in hiding, but the angle he’s created is perfect for causing the head of Bruce’s cock to press his prostate on every in and out stroke.
fuck Tony realizes as he squirms and curses and shouts, He’s determined to do this without touching me. Which is infuriating, and will take longer, and is so frustrating for him when it’s all he wants. He tosses and sobs out, “Bruuce please, please, just fucking touch me. I’m so close, s-so…” He can’t finish it, the feeling of satin and lace on his cock, Bruce filling him so completely, the bruising grip Bruce now has on his shoulder and his hip… It turns into a muffled sob of pleasure.
“C’mon, Tony, what’s wrong?” Bruce rasps huskily. Tony didn’t think he could get more turned on until he looks at him and sees the ring of green around his eyes. He throws his head back and moans, his cock throbbing eagerly, “Afraid to ruin your pretty. panties?”
The last two words are accompanied by particularly harsh, short thrusts, directly hitting his prostate and Tony comes undone. He arches and grips at the sheet, gasping in and in and in in short bursts as it builds and builds… Then finally the release and it’s so good he cries out with it, nearly screams as his cock pulses against the satin and the lace, soaks it, shoots past the waistband to cum across his belly, so much that Bruce wonders if he’ll ever stop.
Probably not if Bruce keeps up the short and brutal pace against his prostate, which now has Tony tossing and turning and gasping from over sensitivity, softening cock twitching with each hit. Still, he continues for a moment to soak in the sight, his mouth watering, of Tony entirely debauched in cum stained lacy panties, panting and moaning with the remnants of an earth shattering orgasm.
Bruce drives in deep again, and three quick, harsh thrusts-Tony yelps on each one- and he buries himself balls deep and drops forward to rest his head on Tony’s chest, back arched as he pulses and cums, hearing Tony gasp slow and delighted at the sudden hot and filled sensation. Bruce grits his teeth and groans long and low through his orgasm.
Neither of them can move for a long moment, gasping harshly for breath. Then Bruce snaps the elastic of the panties, “How many different pairs do you have?”