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He doesn't even properly register the first noise Bruce makes.
That's bad, granted, extremely relevant data being lost and all that, he knows all right? He does have a reason, or an excuse at least. Several, in fact. He's not really paying attention to the absent-minded movement of his right hand, because he's got the tablet at his left one and he's occupied with trying to improve the magic detectors on the suit – frustratingly logic-defying work like everything to do with magic, which, don't even get him started. The rest of his attention is divided between Steve and Thor's hilarious reactions to Terminator, their alarming pace of emptying the popcorn bags that Clint is dropping from the ceiling at regular intervals, and the swift movement of Natasha's nimble fingers braiding and rebraiding Pepper's hair, who leans against her legs with eyes closed, her skirt riding up in a way that's totally not helping Tony's resolve to be happy for them and not resent losing the benefits part of his and Pepper's friendship – and he's really trying here, because monogamy may not be his cup of coffee or scotch or whatever, but he'll be damned before he lets it be said that Tony Stark judges anybody for their weird kinks.
The point is, even Tony's multitasking skills have their limits and he's legitimately distracted.
The second time, though, Natasha catches his attention with a raised eyebrow and – when Tony doesn't immediately get what she means by such an excessive display of communication – she actually rolls her eyes and glances pointedly to his right. He scowls at her but curiosity wins, makes him follow her gaze and-- oh.
He'd be more irritated by the fact that she noticed before him – she's sitting on the other side of the room and it's not as if Bruce is moaning or something, just gasping through parted lips softly enough that even Tony can barely hear him, what with the awesome sound system filling the room with gun shots – but Natasha is a creepy spy and every moment she spends pretending she doesn't notice every little detail around her is the kind of gift that only the nicest creepy spies grant to their friends. Plus in that moment he forgives her for everything, or would if her existence wasn't eradicated from his mind the second his eyes land on Bruce.
Bruce has never had that look on his face before, at least nowhere outside Tony's fantasies. Sure, he's been pretty optimistic on his chances of getting to see Bruce's sex face at some point – hello, he's Tony Stark, genius billionaire playboy philanthropist, not to mention smoking hot in case somebody missed the memo, so who wouldn't, right? And it's not like his assumption rests solely on his amazing looks and irresistible charms, it's also backed by how Bruce acts with him. For one thing, they've flirted from the moment they met on the helicarrier, Tony more outrageously maybe, but Bruce definitely responding in that subtle but absolutely delicious way of his. For another, there's been a gradual build-up of intimacy between them, Tony's casual touches chipping through Bruce's reserve until it's become clear that Bruce is more than willing to seek out contact in turn once assured of his welcome. As a result they've fallen into a comfortable, almost-but-not-quite platonic physical ease which mirrors the intellectual connection that's been simmering between them from the start. The general trends mean that Tony's not exactly surprised by this turn of events, but given that it's been such a slow build for the past month-and-a-half, he's been betting on another five weeks with a error margin of three days – give or take – for potential future alien invasions.
Going by the intent look in Bruce's eyes as they follow Tony's hand rubbing Bruce's bare feet where they're settled on Tony's lap, clearly there have been some important variables missing from the estimated time frame. Apparently that's working in Tony's favour, so he's totally not complaining because he's been starting to suspect that Bruce's rumpled scientist look would be the death of him. Without thinking, Tony stills mid-stroke and Bruce honest-to-god whimpers, quiet enough to be drowned by the speakers but unmistakeably there, and his gaze snaps to Tony's. His pupils are blown all to hell and he stares at Tony like he's way past shame, his lips parted in arousal.
And yeah, it's not like Tony needs any more of a hint. He slides his hand along Bruce's foot again, and god was he ever right because Bruce gasps quietly again before biting his lip as if trying to stifle further noises. Bruce's skin is soft and warm under his fingers. Tony rubs his hand with a steady pressure along the sole of his foot, then leaves the tablet alone and gets his left hand in on the action because in the last fourteen seconds the range of things that he gives a shit about has narrowed from suit upgrades and his teammates' antics right down to, well, Bruce. Whose teeth are digging into his bottom lip like he wants nothing more than to moan and whose eyes are holding Tony's and silently begging for more, and holy fuck is Tony ever pitching a tent and not even caring that Natasha can no doubt tell how much they're both getting off on this. Hell, right now he probably wouldn't have enough blood in his brain to be embarrassed even if Cap noticed. Seeing how much Bruce wants this, Bruce who's normally so unassuming and never lets go anywhere near this much, it's turning Tony on like mad, makes him want nothing more than to touch Bruce's feet all night long and kneel for him and kiss them all over and fucking worship them.
There's only twenty minutes of Terminator left, but those twenty minutes feel about the longest of Tony's life. He would ditch the others and drag Bruce to his bedroom if he could stop touching his feet for long enough, but there's no chance of that happening now, so he spends the time learning every curve with his fingers, rubs them all over gently and then harder, slides his fingers between Bruce's toes and drags his nails through the coarse hair on top. By the time the credits start rolling, Bruce's nails are digging into Tony's arm, his eyes are shut tight and his head is thrown back on the armrest, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows convulsively.
Out of the kinks one may accidentally discover one's friend having when in a roomful of people, foot fetish is one of the least conspicuous, something which Tony's grateful for as his teammates start clearing out. Going by the amused tilt of Pepper's lips she's clearly caught on – whether because Natasha's pointed it out to her or simply because she knows all of his tells, Tony doesn't know and doesn't care, just gives her a wink and tries not to laugh at Bruce's half-embarrassed-half-aroused squirm. But Cap and Thor are thankfully oblivious, though they look rather confused when Pepper escorts them politely to the elevator, not even letting them finish the last of the popcorn.
“You owe me new shoes,” she mouths and Tony blows her a kiss while nodding eagerly because she's clearly an angel sent from above and Tony's totally on board, anything for getting them out so fast. He's always loved her efficiency.
The elevator doors slide shut and he's on his knees in a flash, cradling Bruce's left foot with his hands.
“You'd better have crawled your way out of my ceiling, Barton, otherwise you're getting a show,” Tony declares, and Bruce huffs a laugh which turns into a low, long moan when Tony licks open-mouthed kisses on his skin, dragging his tongue down from heel to toes. Tony's cock throbs and strains against his jeans, but he ignores it and takes Bruce's big toe into his mouth. He swirls his tongue and sucks like he's giving a blowjob, a damn good one at that, and the best part is that Bruce sounds like he's getting one. So Tony keeps at it, moves to the next toe and goes over them all, licks and sucks with eagerness that should probably feel weirder considering it's somebody's toes but really only makes him aroused as hell.
His erection finally becomes too insistent and he cups himself through his jeans, but Bruce growls low in his throat and the next moment Tony's sprawled on the floor with a lapful of hot genius, there's hands attacking his pants to get his fly open and a hot tongue working its way into his mouth and hell yeah, Tony can totally get with the program. He sinks his hands into Bruce's hair and lets his mouth be ravaged while spreading his legs wider to give Bruce access, and that turns out to be such a good idea because Bruce grips his cock hot and tight enough to make Tony moan into his mouth. Bruce gets his other hand on his ass, makes Tony buck up and fuck his fist, licks into his mouth and god Tony needs to-- no, scratch that, breathing's totally overrated anyway so he gives up on it and instead sucks Bruce's tongue until it all gets too much and he has to pull away.
“Believe me, the last thing I am in any way inclined to do is to complain-- ohh, fuck, just like that, god, so good-- you're so good, so hot Bruce, you have no idea do you, and that's the problem, because frankly the whole deal where you make me come in my pants on the floor like a teenager would not be something I'd consider with anybody else and right now I'm definitely considering, but please-- Jesus Christ, oh, fuck!-- as much as I want that, I want to come with your cock in me even more, and fair warning, you've gotta stop in the next forty seconds for us to have any chance of that happening.”
“Hmm. You're pretty coherent, considering.” Bruce smiles darkly and twists his wrist, which combined makes Tony's head hit the floor in pleasure and also makes that forty seconds sound awfully optimistic.
“Fuck, if you haven't noticed, talking is one of the things I'm best aaaaaatgh Bruce, please--”
“Well, since you ask so nicely.” Bruce's hand pulls away, which makes Tony want to kiss him thanks and kind of cry at the same time.
“Hope you're appreciating the VIP treatment,” Tony says as they get up off the floor and he starts stripping to Bruce's appreciative gaze, “with most people it's them begging for my ass, not me begging for their cock in it. But Christ almighty do I ever want yours. Which, incidentally, I still haven't even seen and considering that I'm completely naked and currently getting us lube and condoms – why else do you think there's a vase on the coffee table with never any flowers in it? – is a situation that should be rectified. Like, yesterday,” Tony adds when Bruce makes no moves towards his clothes.
“Whereas I am thinking of something else altogether.” While Tony feels like he's about ready to fall apart at the seams, Bruce is looking like he's got all the patience in the world, though his eyes rove dark and greedy over Tony's body, lingering on his chest and cock. Bruce steps forward and slides his hand over the arc reactor, gentle and reverent, and then moves his fingers to pinch Tony's nipple in sharp contrast, his eyes moving up to meet Tony's, and fuck – that, ladies and gentlemen, is definitely a flash of green amongst the brown. Bruce leans closer to Tony, who's frozen on the spot, and murmurs in his ear, “In fact I am wondering if I should gag you to shut you up, or just fuck you into incoherence.”
Tony breaths in sharply and then lunges to kiss Bruce like he's drowning, because seriously holy fuck. He'd offer some feedback here, except his head is filled with an image of Bruce fucking him from behind while he drools around a ball gag, and for the life of him he can't decide if he wants it more than to have his mouth free for this. Which doesn't really matter, because Bruce grips Tony tight and kisses him back, and Tony's so ridiculously gone for this man that it's not even funny – right now there's nothing he wants more than for Bruce to take everything.
It seems Bruce has pretty much the same idea – great minds really do think alike – because he takes the lube from Tony and backs him to the wall, kissing and biting his lips the whole way, and grips his thighs with both hands. “Come on, up.”
“Seriously, you don't think I'm too heavy to-- no, yeah, apparently not, how do you even-- did you know your eyes are green right now, that's so fucking cool, how does that even work, I'll need to get JARVIS to-- ooohh, okay point taken, later it is, oh fuck yes Bruce do that again--”
Talking may be one of his many strengths but it's getting a lot harder because Bruce has him up against the wall with Tony's legs wrapped around him, holding him in place like Tony weights nothing, one of Bruce's hands gripping his thigh and the other working him open with so much lube it's obscene. Tony grips Bruce's shoulders and lets his head fall against the wall, eyes shut tight, and there's nothing he can do to stop the noises he makes as Bruce's fingers spread his ass wider. It's fucking filthy the way Bruce is reducing Tony into a sweaty, shaking mess while he's still fully clothed and looking like it's not even an effort to make Tony fall apart with nothing but his fingers.
“God, just look at you, so beautiful,” Bruce says. His voice at least is wrecked, rough and gravelly like he's half on his way to Hulking out, and Tony knows Bruce would never risk it but just the thought of the transformation now makes his cock weep all over Bruce's shirt. Jesus, the way Bruce has him pinned even now, he'd be so huge. “You feel that, Tony, I've got three fingers in you and your ass is just eating them up, god I love that. Would you take my whole hand in there if I wanted you to?”
“Christ Bruce do it, please, anything.” Tony's so gone, he means it, wants everything with a desperation he's rarely felt before, and Bruce can hear it in his voice. He trembles all over as Bruce's fingers rub over his prostate, and Tony's clutch on his shoulders is probably leaving bruises even through the shirt, but then he's pulling the digits out, making him release a truly embarrassingly needy sound.
“Shh, I've got you,” Bruce says, his weight and that iron-tight grip on his thigh holding Tony up, there's a condom wrapper dropping on the floor and then blunt pressure against Tony's rim, and fuck Bruce's cock feels huge even with all the prep, pushing in slowly, stretching Tony's hole wider with each shallow rock of his hips.
“That's good, you're doing good, so tight and hot and good for me, just breathe,” Bruce says and then his voice breaks into a moan as he bottoms out. Tony forces his eyes open because he's got to see Bruce, and fuck yes, he looks just as wrecked with pleasure as he sounds. His eyes are shut and he's gasping as hard as Tony is, his hair a mess falling over his sweaty forehead.
“Come on, big guy, that the best you got?” Tony says and tightens his muscles because he's an asshole and because he's greedy for Bruce to fuck him hard and just as greedy for that breathless laughter Bruce releases in response. His eyes meet Tony's, green and intense, holy shit that's hot. He can feel Bruce slide out of him almost all the way and then he slams back in, the shock of the wall reverberating through Tony's whole body as Bruce pounds into him again and again.
“God Tony you feel so good, you have any idea how much I want you? Anytime we're in the same room I want to bend you over the nearest surface and fucking take you, I don't care if there's other people in the room. You'd let me, wouldn't you?” And fuck Bruce is good, knows just where to prod and push to make Tony feel like he's losing his fucking mind. “You'd want them to see you like this, all of them, see you take it like a whore, so desperate for cock you'll take it from me when anybody sane knows to stay away.”
“Their loss,” Tony snaps viciously, pushes back on Bruce's next thrust, and it's either that or his words which makes Bruce groan and thrust in harder, Tony doesn't care which only that he's driven those thoughts out of Bruce's head because the people who stay back, who don't see what they're missing in Bruce are goddamn idiots that don't deserve him.
Bruce is fucking him hard now, and Tony needs some goddamn friction here, but Bruce shoves his hand away when he tries to reach his cock and Tony's about to complain because seriously, but then Bruce's hand grips him in tight heat, jacks him off fast, and Tony's whole body's on fire. His orgasm washes over him in white-hot waves, makes him go slack in Bruce's arms.
“Open up,” Bruce says, and Tony moans as he sucks Bruce's fingers in his mouth and licks them clean of his own come. Bruce growls, replaces his fingers with his tongue and takes Tony's mouth in a bruising kiss, whole body going rigid as he pulses his pleasure deep in Tony's ass.
Bruce catches his breath for a gratifying length of time. “Holy shit.”
Tony sinks his fingers in Bruce's hair, kisses him slow and filthy and then laughs into his mouth as they slide into a sprawled heap on the floor. “I know I'm amazing. I can't believe that you're still not naked, though, you need to be naked much more. Preferably all the time. Also, for future reference, there's a lot to be said for doing this on a bed, especially since your weird semi-hulk-ish strength apparently doesn't last for long after you get off.”
“Quasi-hulk-ish at most,” Bruce says, and Tony grins.
“Brucie, darling, you do know that's not proper measurement at all. JARV, tell me you've got the video, I'll need that for later. Strictly for scientific purposes of course.”
“As you wish, Sir.”
Bruce groans. “This isn't really what I prefer for pillow talk. No offense, JARVIS.”
“None taken, Dr. Banner,” the AI replies mildly.
“Hey, I'm offended, post-coital science not hot enough for you? Besides, pillow talk is only appropriate where there's pillows, which there would be in a bed, just saying--”
“Tony.”
“Yes?”
“Shut up.”
Tony grins wider. “Make me.”
Bruce does.