It is not until they are alone together for the first time after the battle of Sokovia, minimally monitored, that Tony's composure breaks. He stands much too close, raises his hand as if to touch Vision's face. "I still can't believe you're--well, I can, Cho's work, and you've always been, but--may I?"
"Yes," forgoing all titles. As if they are equals.
As if Vision does not know better than anyone that giving Tony permission to begin is infinitely easier than compelling him to stop. The calluses on his fingers tug here and there at still-new skin, behind his ears, on the back of his neck, at the edge of what is now armor. Tony's mouth twists. "When did you learn to dress yourself?"
"As quickly as possible. I didn't want to acquire your reputation on my first day on the planet."
Tony lifts his chin with the mix of shame and pride he always wears when someone brings up his playboy days. "You'd have had to work a lot harder than flying around naked."
"I know precisely how hard I'd have had to work." Vision traces the line of his cheekbone and feels him shiver; how simple it is to affect him with a touch. "How long have you been waiting to find me alone so that you could attempt to seduce me?" Tony opens his mouth and Vision puts his finger over his lips. "Since the debriefing, you've had at least six hours of sleep and a meal, and you've spoken to Ms. Potts. What else delayed you?"
With each detail, Tony relaxes. He is too used to being monitored, and Vision is too used--in some parts of his being--to being constantly aware of him. "A few conversations. Making sure that no one would come looking for me while I was here. Putting off SI work till later." He glances to one side as if he is about to lie. "Checking my install of JARVIS at home."
The thought of Stark Tower functioning without its native program is abhorrent. The virtue of a program is that it can be replicated; Vision is not solely JARVIS. "I hope everything is in order."
"Yeah, we're good. If you're good." Tony runs his hands down Vision's sides. "Does this thing have zippers?"
"No." Vision kisses him, exploring the heat and taste of his mouth, the noises he makes, and feels Tony lean into him. The ease of his body makes the next question obvious, given the terabytes of data he has on Tony Stark: "Father, will you kneel for me?"
"Fuck yes," as he melts to the floor, his hands caressing and bracing all the way down. "Engage RACK protocol."
Vision deals with his clothing and bends to kiss Tony's palm. "I'm giving the orders. But yes, your protocol is sufficient."
"Sorry, of course you are," Tony says, then adds, grinning, "Sorry, sir."
It is simple to keep a stern tone, however heady the reversal. "Make it up to me."