Kinda feels like you're great for a lot of things.
[ If it's a read, it's a mild one, though there's an edge to it that suggests that Tony could be cruel about it if he wanted to, though slut shaming from him would be pretty hypocritical. For right now, he just does what he's wanted to since Theo arrived and leans in to set nose and mouth against his abdomen, kissing and licking his way down a few inches before he pulls back again and tilts a look up at him. Speculative, as if he's considering something he might want to buy.
He flattens a hand along Theo's side, then moves it until he can put the pad of his thumb over that little tattoo. ]
What do you want? Truly. No bullshit. Not just from me or this moment. In general.
[Theo'd be used to that kind of read - he is undeniably used to it, to the point where he doesn't even recognize it - so he doesn't give a shit about picking at it. Especially when there's other fun to be had. He's playing a role after all, and part of that is... acting on slutty impulses? Whatever, 2023 him will have to deal with the meaning of it all and the weight it has on him but they're not there yet. Much rather, he's looking at Tony with his lips parted and a soft breath exhaling as he feels his lips move over his skin. He shivers only after that, when he's relaxing against Tony's touch and his thumb rests on the mark.
He's put his hand up on Tony's bicep somewhere in the process of the last few seconds, not thinking about it, but he looks back up to meet gaze. What does he want is such a fucking question. There are half dozen things he could say right now. Filler. Good retorts. Nothing particularly honest because:]
I don't know. A good time?
['I want you to think I'm confident in everything I do, not that I'm this shittily put together skeleton of a human who uses sex to avoid confronting my various issues and massive pile of backlogged baggage.']
I don't want messy, I don't want tethers. I want good times, free shit and a lot of sex. I like affection but I don't want to feel boxed in. Restricted. Sound fair?
[ Not that it was positioned as what can I do for you, but Tony prefers it when he feels like he's achieving something, like he's fulfilling a need of some kind. He studies the angles of the younger man's face, hand sliding sideways and down to rub over Theo's crotch, feeling out what he's got to work with.
While he's doing that, he reaches up with his other hand to unbutton his shirt down to the middle of his sternum, baring the perfect circle of scar tissue and slight indentation in the middle of his chest. He doesn't stop moving the hand between Theo's legs, just tilts his chin to look up at him. Probably not a normal time to have a conversation like this, but it feels like a good moment for honesty -- for vulnerability. ]
[Theo's brows lift and he lets out a happy little noise when Tony's hand skims over the growing bulge in his pants, briefly closing his eyes before blinking them back open to look at what Tony's other hand is doing. He's bared his chest and it catches Theo's eye, bringing up his hand to trace his fingers over the ridge of scar tissue with a feather light touch.]
I feel like scars often tell a story. Any mark left on you does.
[It's said with an admiring tone, finger tracing before he's looking back up to meet Tony's gaze.]
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no subject
[ If it's a read, it's a mild one, though there's an edge to it that suggests that Tony could be cruel about it if he wanted to, though slut shaming from him would be pretty hypocritical. For right now, he just does what he's wanted to since Theo arrived and leans in to set nose and mouth against his abdomen, kissing and licking his way down a few inches before he pulls back again and tilts a look up at him. Speculative, as if he's considering something he might want to buy.
He flattens a hand along Theo's side, then moves it until he can put the pad of his thumb over that little tattoo. ]
What do you want? Truly. No bullshit. Not just from me or this moment. In general.
no subject
He's put his hand up on Tony's bicep somewhere in the process of the last few seconds, not thinking about it, but he looks back up to meet gaze. What does he want is such a fucking question. There are half dozen things he could say right now. Filler. Good retorts. Nothing particularly honest because:]
I don't know. A good time?
['I want you to think I'm confident in everything I do, not that I'm this shittily put together skeleton of a human who uses sex to avoid confronting my various issues and massive pile of backlogged baggage.']
I don't want messy, I don't want tethers. I want good times, free shit and a lot of sex. I like affection but I don't want to feel boxed in. Restricted. Sound fair?
no subject
[ Not that it was positioned as what can I do for you, but Tony prefers it when he feels like he's achieving something, like he's fulfilling a need of some kind. He studies the angles of the younger man's face, hand sliding sideways and down to rub over Theo's crotch, feeling out what he's got to work with.
While he's doing that, he reaches up with his other hand to unbutton his shirt down to the middle of his sternum, baring the perfect circle of scar tissue and slight indentation in the middle of his chest. He doesn't stop moving the hand between Theo's legs, just tilts his chin to look up at him. Probably not a normal time to have a conversation like this, but it feels like a good moment for honesty -- for vulnerability. ]
I asked you for real. So this is real for me.
no subject
I feel like scars often tell a story. Any mark left on you does.
[It's said with an admiring tone, finger tracing before he's looking back up to meet Tony's gaze.]
You must have quite a story.