“Oh god, Bruce please …” It was almost too satisfying to watch how Tony’s back arched as he struggled uselessly against the restraints keeping him securely tied to the frame of their bed. The struggle was not so much a try to get out as it was a begging for more. They both knew better than to work without safe words and knowing the others real physical tells of ‘too much’.
“Shh, be good. You know what happens if you move too much, Tony.” His voice was dark, low and thick with lust. It shouldn’t be. This was all kinds of wrong and they both knew that too. Everything about the two of them was wrong and like any kind of wrong, it was addicting. Playing with fire, doing the things he knew he shouldn’t. Bruce had never been good.
The thin, sharp scalpel in his right hand glittered in the dim light of the room, just bright enough to see clearly what he did but not so bright that the arc was overshined. He liked the blue shine it gave Tony’s skin. His hands were steady as he set the blade to Tony’s skin again, he would never have agreed to this if he had no confidence in not screwing this up.
There were several long lines across his lover’s thighs, most of them fresh, only a handful older and not fully healed yet. They were thin and precise, never too deep, all the same length and with the same space left between them. Bruce knew that was how Tony needed them to be. And this was all about what Tony wanted, what he needed.
“Yes, more, please Bruce.” They had a simple rule, never more than ten cuts, five on each leg and this last one had been the ninth tonight. He didn’t reply to the plea, putting the blade aside instead and leaning down to trace the cuts with his tongue.
Bitter, metallic and still sweet. He shouldn’t do this. None of it. It was so rewarding though, watching Tony fall apart under his hands. And it was better than fearing to find him covered in his own blood one day, having gone too far on his own. Bruce had taken a bad habit and made it into something that might be twisted but nowhere as dangerous as what Tony had been doing to himself.
He sat back again as soon as Tony stilled under him, stopped squirming and panting, begging for that last cut. Putting a blade to someone’s skin as they shifted and moved was not a good thing, so he was patient waiting for Tony to stop. “One more.” It was a soft reminder, Bruce knew that Tony lost track of time and cuts quickly when they did this.
His fingers closed around the metal again and he watched as the skin just broke under it’s sharp tip, thick red blood dripping down. It was a sight that should have worried him but all he felt was lust and a frightening surge of power. The real reason for that rule. Bruce was scared what might happen if he let it go on too long, if he went too far.
He reached for the disinfecting wipes, cleaning off the blade before putting it away safely in their little play box. The cuts would be taken care off after they were done with this, Bruce had quickly learned that Tony prefer the blood to stay for a little while. “Tell me how you are feeling, Tony.” His hands were running along his lover’s sides and he was watching him closely.
“Good, ‘m good, so good.” It was a soft and sluggish reply but Bruce knew that was simply how Tony got when they did this and it made him smile a little. “Gonna fuck me? Know you want to.” He did, how could he not. For the past hour he had watched Tony get off on being tied up and cut, had stared at that proud and erect cock as he did it.
“Ask nicely and I might.” They both knew he wanted to but that didn’t mean he would unless Tony played by the rules and sometimes, he didn’t. Tonight wasn’t one of these days though because as soon as he said it, Tony arched again and started to beg. “Please, Bruce, you know I need it, come on, please fuck me. I was good, you like me being good, please?”
One day, he was going to go to hell just for loving this as much as he did. “Good boy.” It was almost a tease but Tony didn’t get the time to be upset about it, being silenced by a deep and bruisingly hard kiss as his hands reached for the bottle of lube.
It was an easy thing to push two slick fingers into that tight hole, Tony always became more relaxed through this than anything else, making his lover shiver and pant. He took his sweet time to watch Tony fall apart a little more as he stretched him out, teasing his prostrate and letting his tongue trace the cuts again.
He drew it out but never for longer than he knew Tony could handle and before that point was reached, he pulled his fingers back and reached down to undo the restraints on his lover’s ankles. Tony’s hands would stay bound but Bruce preferred to be able to move his legs around as he pleased.
“Still good?” It was a breathless question while he slicked himself up, just a last check to make sure he hadn’t pushed too far. “Mm, yes, please.” His hands gripped Tony’s hips tightly as he pushed into him, gasping at the slick and tight heat surrounding him. The best part was the look on Tony’s face though, pure bliss, and the way his legs went around Bruce’s own hips, trying to draw him deeper.
It was slow, as much as he felt like simply taking what he wanted, fast and rough, Bruce knew Tony needed something else than that. The slow build got him safely back down from the height their play had put him into and Bruce couldn’t say that slow wasn’t nice every now and then. His hands stayed on his lover’s hips, gripping tight enough to leave bruises, as he fucked into him, slow and steady, drawing more of these perfect little gasps and whimpers from Tony’s lips.
“Bruce! Please, please, god please!” It made him smirk but he didn’t tease, not this time, he knew what Tony was asking for and he gave it to him without delay. Hand firmly wrapping around his lover’s cock, he stroked him in the exact same rhythm as he was pushing into him and it took less than a handful of strokes to get Tony arching back again and painting his own stomach with thick white ropes cum.
The sight and the way Tony’s body clenched and spasmed around him was all that he needed too to come, panting and groaning as he set his teeth to Tony’s shoulder, biting down sharply. Neither of them moved or spoke for a what seemed like a long time but was probably less than a minute. It never took Bruce too long to get himself back under control.
His hands were confident and steady again as he undid the knots of the rope that kept Tony’s wrists bound, rubbing over the slightly red but unbroken skin with a soft smile before putting the rope aside. “Good?” He checked again, always did, had to because there was so much that could go wrong with this. The lazy and calm smile on Tony’s lips as he nodded, too tired to speak, was all he needed though.
He settled Tony comfortably and got him to drink while he cleaned the cuts carefully, putting away the toys and the towel that they used to protect the bedsheets from getting bloody. It was routine, the follow up, and routine was something that Bruce needed. Tony never even tried to complain but he looked a lot more happy when Bruce settled with him on the bed again, drawing him into his arms.
“Thank you.” His heart ached at hearing these words. Every single time. Tony didn’t say thanks, for nothing and to no one, not in actual words, except after they did this. “Anytime.” He kept his voice light, not showing how much it meant to him to hear that because he knew that Tony got weird about it when he did. “Ready to sleep now?” Another tired nod and he let it pass, drawing the blankets up around them and pressing a soft kiss to Tony’s forehead.