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Many things can be said about Tony Stark, but no one denies that he can throw one hell of a party.
For Tony’s tenth birthday, the Stark family rented out a full carnival for Tony and all of his classmates, complete with a ferris wheel, two rollercoasters, a go karting ring, and unlimited pony rides. The four foot tall Jetsons spaceship themed birthday cake was the talk of his prestigious all-boys private school for weeks, as were the fireworks that came shooting out of it.
Despite being the youngest student at MIT in ‘86, Tony found himself suddenly growing quite popular around the time of his sixteenth birthday extravaganza, which was held on the deck of his brand new eighty-foot yacht. A drunken fight between a nuclear science major and a philosophy grad student ended when the US Coast Guard boarded the ship to break them up. Overall, the student body rated his party a whopping success, even though most couldn’t remember much of the exact details.
As far as Tony’s twenty-first birthday is concerned, it’s probably easier to list the things that didn’t happen, sobriety being amongst the top.
Then there was the infamous fortieth birthday celebration during which he had a mental breakdown and pissed the Iron Man suit onstage.
(He doesn’t like to talk about that one.)
Bruce, on the other hand, has always preferred much less lavish celebrations. A few close friends, a simple menu, and an early night in with a cup of tea and possibly a movie is more his style—a concept that’s taken the attention-loving billionaire years to truly understand.
At first, Tony thought his boyfriend was just being modest, trying not to make a big deal out of the day because he was uncomfortable with Tony spending too much money on him. But after last year’s surprise party disaster—during which Bruce was so startled by Tony’s confetti cannons that he hulked out in the middle of the tower’s penthouse in front of the whole team, destroying his own birthday cake and the entire bar—Tony finally learned.
This year is Bruce’s fiftieth, and Tony’s determined to get it right.
When December eighteenth rolls around, Tony starts the day off with taking his boyfriend for a stroll through the New York Botanical Garden in the Bronx. This they follow with a cozy horse-drawn carriage ride along the streets of Manhattan, sipping hot chocolate and taking in the Christmas lights and decorations. From there, they go back to the tower for a home-cooked meal of eggplant lasagna, followed by tiramisu (Tony even suppresses his urge to fill it with sparklers, instead settling for lighting a nice fire in the fireplace). It’s far from Tony’s usual celebratory style, but seeing Bruce’s simple delight makes it all worthwhile.
After dinner, Tony reenters the kitchen with a glass of red wine in hand to find Bruce standing at the sink, rinsing off the last plates to load into the dishwasher. Tony comes up behind him and wraps his arms around his boyfriend’s waist, feeling Bruce’s body relax into the embrace.
“You don’t have to do that, you know,” Tony reminds him, kissing the side of Bruce’s neck. “It’s your birthday, after all. The big five-o, at that,” he teases.
“I’m only six months older than you, Tony,” Bruce says, rolling his eyes. “You’re no spring chicken yourself.”
“Hmm…true.” Tony pivots Bruce around to face him, pressing the scientist’s back up against the edge of the counter. “But I bet I know what would make both of us feel a bit more… sprightly.”
Bruce raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh you do, do you? And what would that be?”
“Oh, you know...” Trailing his fingers down, Tony undoes the first couple buttons on Bruce’s shirt. “It involves a bit of this….” He plants a kiss on Bruce’s exposed collarbone and then continues peppering them up the scientist’s neck. “And a bit of this…” He glides his hand down Bruce’s chest and stomach, brushing his fingers just past his waist.
With a tiny moan, Bruce slides his hands down to rest on Tony’s hips. “I think I could get behind that…” he breathes.
“What do you say we skip the movie?” Tony suggests, his fingers walking down further to brush over Bruce’s belt buckle. “Take this straight to the bedroom?”
“Hm… I’ll admit, I was kinda looking forward to the popcorn…” Bruce lets his hands travel around to Tony’s ass. “But I might be persuaded,” he says, squeezing a bit.
Tony kisses him on the lips now. When the two finally pull part, Bruce adds, “Just as soon as we put away the dinner leftovers, that is.”
Tony groans. “God…” he mutters as Bruce shimmies away to put the lasagna in the fridge. “You’re killing me, Banner.”
“Oh, were you in a hurry?” Bruce asks with a playful smile. He picks up the pyrex container and starts to walk toward the refrigerator at a painfully slow pace. “Just have to put the food away, and wipe down the stove.” His gaze flicks to the counter. “Maybe clean the sink. Oh, and someone should probably take out the trash, and then—”
Tony rolls his eyes. “Yeah, nope, none of this is happening.” He intercepts the container from Bruce with one hand and opens the fridge door to shove it in with the other. He slams the door shut, rattling the various bottles inside. “Done.”
Bruce chuckles lightly. “Someone’s excited.”
“Yes,” Tony says shortly. “Now come along.” He takes Bruce’s hand and starts pulling him away toward the bedroom. “I’ve got something special planned for you.”
Tony feels his boyfriend’s hand tense in his own. Bruce comes to a stop in the hallway. “Tony…” he says warily. “I thought we agreed no surprises.”
“No, it’s a good one. I promise.” Tony plants a reassuring kiss on the other man’s lips. “Just trust me on this.”
X
“Ready, Brucie?” Tony calls from inside the ensuite bathroom.
“I mean, it would help if you told me what I should be preparing for,” Bruce’s voice replies from the bedroom, sounding uncertain.
“Just sit back and relax,” Tony instructs, finally swinging the door open to see Bruce waiting on the bed, exactly where he’d left him, “...and enjoy the show. FRIDAY?”
Immediately the lights dim, taking on a slightly reddish glow. Pony by Ginuwine starts playing in the background as Tony leans suggestively against the doorframe.
Bruce’s cheeks immediately flush as he seems to register what his boyfriend has in store. He covers his face in his hands as Tony twirls the end of his tie slowly in the air. “Oh god, Tony…”
“Oh god indeed.” Tony grins. With one dramatic movement, he rips the tie from his collar and tosses it over his shoulder. Then, he skims his fingers over his shirt to unbutton the top few, slowly and seductively.
All day he’s been trying to respect Bruce’s desire to keep things low-key, but he’s still Tony Stark, dammit. There has to be some sort of surprise, and if Bruce isn’t into any of the more public forms of celebration, then giving his boyfriend a strip tease in the privacy of their own bedroom seems like a decent compromise. But just to make sure he hasn’t put Bruce too far outside his comfort zone, Tony breaks character for a moment to ask in a slightly more serious tone, “You alright with this?”
Despite his reddening cheeks, Bruce nods, a smile spreading across his lips. Tony doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything as adorable in his life as the furiously blushing scientist.
Moving with the music, Tony makes his way suggestively towards the bed, swinging his hips and adding the occasional spin. He keeps a serious expression throughout the performance, despite Bruce’s giggling. Without breaking eye-contact with his boyfriend, Tony then undoes his belt and pulls it slowly through the loops before tossing it behind him with a flick of the wrist to join the tie.
Tony turns around to slide a hand sensually down his own back, landing on his ass.
Bruce giggles again. “You’ve been practicing, I take it?”
Tony smirks, moving closer to the bed until he’s standing right in front of Bruce. “You should have seen the rehearsals.”
Bruce trails his fingers over Tony’s stomach down to unzip his pants. Just feeling his boyfriend’s fingers brushing over him is making Tony already semi-hard. “Oh, I imagine FRIDAY has some footage saved,” Bruce teases.
Tony frowns for a second, recalling how he knocked over Bruce’s favorite lamp the other night attempting to seduce it with his sexy sock removal moves. He quickly shifts his expression to a smirk. “Actually, on second thought, the live version is much better.”
“I suppose you have a point there,” Bruce allows. “Have to be there in person to do this …” He carefully lowers Tony’s pants to his hips and trails his fingers down to cup them over Tony’s bulge.
Tony’s breath catches. “Can’t argue with that,” he grunts. After shimmying the rest of the way out of his pants, Tony swings his leg over Bruce’s lap to kneel with one leg on each side of his partner. He grinds his hips into Bruce’s, eliciting a little moan.
Then, Bruce starts kissing him—rather aggressively—and Tony’s willpower falters. He’d planned to stretch his show out much longer, but suddenly he can’t seem to get out of his clothes fast enough.
As Bruce tangles his fingers in his boyfriend’s hair to hold him closer, Tony’s hands fumble for the hem of his own shirt. Rather than undoing the remaining buttons, he quickly breaks away from Bruce to pull the shirt up over his head. But as he does so, his arm gets caught, leaving the material covering his face with his arm stuck in an awkward position over his head.
Bruce giggles. “Is this a part of the show too?”
“All of life’s a stage,” Tony declares, his voice a bit muffled. He twists sharply to escape the fabric, but instantly regrets that as a stabbing pain shoots down his lower back. With a gasp, Tony pauses his movements.
“Tony?” He can hear the frown in Bruce’s voice.
Tony is grateful that the shirt is still covering his face as it prevents Bruce from seeing his grimace. A cautious movement sends another stab of pain through him, confirming what Tony’s already suspected; he’s thrown out his back.
But as any performer knows, the show must go on.
Steeling himself with a deep breath, Tony untangles from the shirt, doing his best to ignore the waves of pain in his jarred back. He plasters on a tight-lipped smile as he is now face to face with his partner. “Yes, dear?” he replies casually.
Bruce’s expression relaxes into a smile before their lips meet again. It’s so intoxicating that Tony almost forgets his discomfort - right until Bruce shifts to gently push his boyfriend down toward the mattress. That’s when another shooting pain goes down Tony’s back and he stiffens, letting out a little grunt as he lands on the bed.
Bruce pulls back, looking confused. “You alright?”
Biting the inside of his mouth, Tony nods. “Never better,” he gasps. “Just, uh… can’t wait to give you”—he gasps again as Bruce straddles him, the scientist already pulling off his own shirt—“the best birthday sex ever.”
“I think we’re off to a promising start.” Bruce slips a hand inside the waistband of Tony’s underwear. He braces his other hand on Tony’s shoulder and leans in for a kiss, but the shift in weight sends a fiery jolt of pain through the engineer’s back.
Nope, that’s it, he’s done.
Tony grunts sharply. ”Hockey stick, hockey stick!”
His eyes going wide, Bruce immediately pulls back and scrambles off of Tony. Unfortunately, that only jostles the bed further to the point that tears spring to Tony’s eyes.
“Tony? What is it?” Bruce asks anxiously, scooting a little further back. Along with the pain, and instant wave of guilt comes over Tony—he’s only ever used their safeword twice before and he definitely didn’t mean to freak Bruce out, but it just seemed like the fastest way to get him off. “Are you okay?”
“Fine, I’m fine,” Tony gasps out. Eyes squeezed shut, he draws in a shaky breath. “Just… stop moving. Please. Sorry.”
Bruce instantly goes still. “Did… Did I hurt you?” he asks.
“No, no not you,” Tony quickly assures as the pain recedes. He opens his eyes again, seeing Bruce’s worried expression, and sighs deeply. There’s no point trying to hide it now. “I hurt myself.”
“What?” Bruce’s frown deepens. “How?”
“Think I pulled something in my back,” Tony admits, feeling his cheeks flush. “That shirt did me in.”
Bruce’s expression turns sympathetic. “Aw, Tony…” Carefully, he gets off the bed and walks around to the other side. “How bad is it?”
Tony shrugs a bit, embarrassed. “It’s not that bad,” he mutters.
“Can you rate it? One to ten?” Bruce asks, shifting fluidly into his doctoring mode, which only causes Tony to groan in annoyance. This was definitely not how he’d hoped tonight would go.
Tony forces a provocative smirk. “Are we roleplaying now? Because in that case, y’know, you should probably get your lab coat and stethoscope—I have some places in mind you could examine...”
Bruce blinks at him, looking unamused. “Hilarious, Tony. Now, seriously, how bad is it?”
Tony flaps a hand dismissively. “It’s fine—I just need a minute.”
Bruce raises an eyebrow skeptically at him.
Tony huffs out a sigh. “It’s like a three, okay? I’m fine.” Ignoring the pain it causes, he starts to push up on one elbow, reaching for Bruce with the other hand, intent on finishing what they’d started.
“So you mean a six?” Bruce translates. Gently, he pushes his boyfriend back down onto the mattress with a sigh. “Wait here, okay? I’m going to get you some ice.”
X
Thirty minutes later, Tony is sitting on the bed, propped up with pillows and wearing fuzzy pajamas, already having knocked back three tablets of Advil. Bruce is cuddled up beside him, one arm around Tony to hold the ice pack in place, munching handfuls of popcorn. Downton Abbey reruns play on the TV across from them.
“Did you know that the castle they filmed in is actually a real location in England?” Bruce asks, holding out the popcorn bowl to his boyfriend.
Tony snorts a bit. “Have to say, I did not.”
Bruce hums affirmatively. “Happy was telling me about it. I think they even do tours. Would be kinda fun to see where the Seventh Earl of Grantham lived.”
“Then we should go,” Tony offers, jumping on the idea of making up for this tragedy of a birthday. “Fly out tomorrow on the jet. I’m sure we can arrange some kind of VIP experience.” He pauses for a second. “Or just buy the castle.”
Bruce rolls his eyes. “Sure, because six hours on an airplane is exactly what you need in your current state, old man.”
Tony balks at him. “Hey, I’m younger than you, geezer!”
“I’m sorry, which one of us just threw out his back doing a strip tease?” Bruce asks with a chuckle. “Because I’m pretty sure it wasn’t me.”
“I’ll get us both a room at the nursing home tomorrow…” Tony grumbles. He shifts a bit closer to his boyfriend, grimacing slightly, then sighs. “I’m sorry about all this.”
Bruce smirks. “I’ll admit, you were very… alluring.” He pauses briefly. “For the first five minutes or so.”
Tony giggles lightly, then winces. “Ah,” he grunts. “Don’t make me laugh.”
Bruce smiles and plants a kiss on Tony’s forehead. “I love you, you know that?”
Tony waves his hand. “Yeah, yeah, love you too. Now tilt this way—bet I can still manage a handjob. It is your birthday after all.”
X
(The five-star hotel sex they have after touring the Highclere castle three weeks later makes up for everything.)
X
