That wasn't what he had been expecting. It shouldn't surprise him--Bruce is amazing in so many ways and always keeps him guessing--but having the hand tighten around him and hearing him, feeling the words spoken right at his ear makes Tony's mind momentarily lose focus. He moans, wrist jerking impulsively as he forgets to keep control. For a few seconds, the only thing he can think of is yes, he wants to come, to let the patient sound of his friend's voice carry him over the edge right there. He barely manages to push it down; bring himself back into focus again.

"Damn it, don't do that." Tony laughs unsteadily, hips arching into Bruce's hand and his own hand following the strokes on his cock, echoing the pace Bruce sets. He likes to think that he's not a complete virgin here, pushed so easily into losing control by a little teasing and light play. But he's already near the end of his limits, voice cracking as he protests and bucks against the friction created by Bruce's palm. Tony is always the one leading, in or out of the bedroom. His pride is telling him he should resist it and try to hold out, but he's already dripping into Bruce's hand, despite what his mind may think of that.

"Please. Fuck."

He doesn't even know what he's asking of Bruce. Tony's words end in a choked noise and he jerks into the warmth of Bruce's hand, eyes closed in his release. It's embarrassing and deliciously sweet, and he rolls his hips helplessly as wave after wave of pleasure runs through his body. If Bruce was still doubting himself, Tony is letting him know just how much control he's willing to give him until he's confident.