THY SOOTHING KISS"My own Beloved, who hast lifted me
From this drear flat of earth where I was thrown,
And, in betwixt the languid ringlets, blown
A life-breath, till the forehead hopefully
Shines out again, as all the angels see,
Before thy saving kiss!
My own, my own,
Who camest to me when the world was gone,
And I who looked only for God, found thee!
I find thee; I am safe, and strong, and glad."
From E.Barrett Browning, Sonnet XXVII
The civil unrest proved too powerful for the local police to subdue.
Too many were dying, as the two sides of the political front tore and lashed at each other in the form of their civilian supporters, sacking towns, destroying all in their path, killing and pillaging, a swathe of destruction.
The government expressed their disapproval and encouraged the Bolivian authorities to lay this all to rest, for the sake of human rights, for the sake of peace, for the sake of their country.
No one dared step in, of course.
No one official, that is, from the White House.
And that is why Iron Man took it upon himself to care enough to step in.
The mission itself had turned out to be more complicated than expected, though certainly not one of the bloodiest battles he'd fought since taking up the metal mantle (suit?) of the hero. But something somewhere went deeply wrong, and the resulting death tolls and sense of horror would make sure that this particular endeavour to fight for mankind stayed with him for a long time afterwards.
When finally, after four days of gruelling work, flying above the cities well out of detonating range, taking out violent extremists who were stirring up most of the violence, rescuing innocents, men, women, children – some were trapped in the burning, collapsing buildings, others were caught in the cross-fires, or in an explosion – lending what support he could to local authorities and aid-workers alike … finally, some respite.
The Bolivian Government announced it was ready to negotiate and to bring all the evil-doers who had split the nation asunder, to justice.
And finally, after close to eight days of unrest, violence, and death, the people grew calm once more, enough to allow Iron Man to return home.
By the time JARVIS reached through – the seraphim satellite connection had been badly damaged during one of the skirmishes where they opened fire on him – to Tony, who was already on his way back towards California, it had been too late.
A small group of extremists had managed to make one last stand before being captured. That stunt alone, killed 47 people, 38 of them children, since they had targeted an elementary school. The authorities had apprehended them right as they were about to blow up the building, so a few police officers had gotten injured, whilst some had died, trying to get the children and the teachers out of the school. Only about a dozen children and two teachers had made it out alive.
Tony cried bitterly for their loss.
Tony cried and wanted to scream savagely in his rage, for all the lives that had been lost.
Tony felt his heart break as JARVIS showed him news reports of the attack that took place not half an hour after he'd left Bolivian soil – and air space. He'd been too far away to help them, and by the time the report had reached him in the suit, it had been too late.
He sneered in bitter contempt as following death tolls and live-footage of the police trying to save the school children before the building blew up, was followed by the announcement that the US had stepped in and was sending 'humanitarian resources'.
Too little, too late, Tony thought.
He was so tired. He hurt everywhere, but the ache within his heart pulsed more keenly than his other physical injuries. He hadn't slept in over 36 hours, and allowed JARVIS to take over the task of getting him home so he could safely 'pass out' for a while. His last conscious thought strayed to a memory, no more than a fleeting image, really, of lying in his darkened bedroom, on his bed, where a woman of breath-taking beauty – as far as he was concerned – with blue eyes like the deepest, sparkling ocean awaited him, safe, and sound. Home.
* * *
When he was twenty minutes away form touchdown, JARVIS blared insistently throughout the suit's speakers until Tony was brought out of his state of unconsciousness – not a healthy state of being, but it was only exhaustion-fuelled sleep, so no immediate danger, or reason to see a doctor. Nothing a good rest wouldn't cure. He doggedly tried to ignore his heartstrings tugging at him in remembered horror … and focused on what awaited him.
As he put more effort into focusing on that, his mind recalled luscious images of her, his gorgeous other – better – half, her smile, the smell and shine of her hair, the texture of her skin as they lay entwined, her sparkling, quiet blue eyes softly shining out in that particular way he liked to call 'homecoming' at him, reserved for those times he'd been away from her … and felt almost instantly better. At least, he told himself, his heart seemed to ache a little less fiercely as he thought of her, of having her in his arms and seeing her again.
It was past two in the morning, local time, when Tony landed wobbly on the platform in his workshop, where the robots immediately proceeded to strip him of his damaged suit, and neatly fold themselves back out of sight.
He had a ritual for when the missions he'd been too were gruelling and exhausting beyond measure, like this one. He would get some down-time in the enormous stone bath-tub – if it could be called that, it was so big – he'd had installed after the major renovation and make-over his house had gone through after he'd wrecked it during that vivid and disastrous supposed last ever birthday bash. He would see to his injuries, mostly lacerations, contusions, scrapes, bruises and such, drink as much minerals restoring sports drinks as he could, and then crash, hard, for twelve hours at least, on his bed.
Hopefully with his mate at his side.
Tony peeled the neoprene – that too, torn and damaged beyond repair – from his battered body, carefully trying to avoid making movements that hurt his aching muscles and joints too much. His shoulders sagged, and his steps felt weighed down, as thought he were a heavy, heavy giant, as he made his way through the dark, quiet house to the where JARVIS, or Pepper, had readied the bath for him.
Tony disjointedly stepped out of his underwear, and put JARVIS on stand-by mode, ready to act in case tony fell asleep and risked drowning in his own bathtub. The bath itself had been wired specifically for that purpose, designed by Tony himself, of course, to make it so that JARVIS had complete access to the water settings, including drainage – JARVIS could act within a moment's notice and empty the 450lt capable bath of water in record time. It was one of the personal touches Tony had bestowed upon his home at Pepper's urging, and now he couldn't be more grateful for it.
He gingerly stepped in, groaning at the warmth of the water, and his aching body, keeping close to the sides to hold onto for support, and then he sank down. Tony sat in one of the specifically designed niche at one of the corners of the bath and rested his head wearily back onto the stone ledge, closing his stinging eyes.
The room was lit very, very softly, mostly dark, with strategically placed lights here and there. It was supposed to be for 'sexy, fun times', but on such occasions the low lighting served perfectly for when he'd been flying all over the planet in the darkened suit for days on end. After spending such a long amount of time in the suit, his body was extremely sensitive to everything, light, touch, noises, even smell – his senses bombarded harshly with the regular sights and noises of the normal world, after being almost de-sensitised.
Tony tried to empty his head of all negative thoughts, to stop thinking, and to relax, letting the hot water and the low lighting do their trick, soothing his body and his senses.
He didn't know how long he sat there, because at some point he must have fallen asleep, if lightly, but was then woken, rather abruptly. Ever since being shut in that cave for months, during his captivity, his reflexes and senses had sharpened to ensure his continued survival, and that had not ended with his captivity – something he was glad of.
As he opened his eyes, he could see no immediate changes in the room itself, but knew, before he even started swivelling his head in another direction, his body literally sang with it: he knew he was no longer alone.
She was here.
His bloodshot eyes landed on her figure, standing to his left, a little away from the sunken bath, and a ghost of a smile cracked at his jaw, almost unconsciously.
And there it was, that look, the one she always had, the one he was always greeted by when he returned … that I'm-so-glad-you're-alive-I-love-you-welcome-HOME, soft, soft look. Her eyes shone gently, with worry, from blue, blue depths. He wanted to drown himself in them. He wanted to melt into her body, burrow under her skin, into her warm heart, and never let go.
A fusion of a different kind. Hot, slow, steady. Soothing. Healing. Loving.
* * *
Pepper awoke to the sound of JARVIS chiming that his master was home. She hurriedly threw on her silk robe, tied it into a sash and fairly flew down the stairs, in search of him. The journey from their bedroom to the wing where they'd installed the gargantuan sunken stone bath was not very long, more so because of her quickened pace, but during that time JARVIS quickly summarised what had gone on in the past few days, and updated her on Tony's condition.
She sped up, her heart hammering as it always did when she was about to be reunited with him after a long mission, especially when she had lost contact with the suit's version of JARVIS due to link failure from the home version, and had no way of knowing how Tony was. By what JARVIS had told her, Tony had thankfully not sustained serious injuries, but he had not slept more than six hours in between each of those four days, and his exhaustion levels were quite high.
She quietly emerged into the room and her heart somersaulted madly at the sight of him, so dear to her, safe, well, and relatively unharmed. He was sitting in the bath, his head bent backwards to rest on the stone ledge behind him – she was glad he'd insisted on those cushioned head rests – looking up at the ceiling, though she knew, instinctively, and from experience, that he was not fully conscious.
Pepper stepped closer to the tub, wanting nothing more than to be closer to him, close enough to see for herself that he was okay. And then he woke up.
Tony raised his head slowly and turned around until he found her with his eyes, slowly, as though that motion alone took a lot of energy.
For a moment, Pepper found herself speared by that gaze, those hauntingly beautiful eyes she loved so much, and was unable to speak, to do anything, except make her own eyes gaze out at him, mirrored beacons of relief.
He'd previously drunk copious amounts of water and mineral-restoring drinks designed to suit his own purposes, to help his body not crash too hard after long missions, so his energy was somewhat improved compared to when he'd landed.
His eyes were bloodshot with fatigue, but they honed in on her and never wavered, as though he couldn't tear himself away from the sight of her merely standing there. He offered her a weak imitation of a smile, a grimace, really, and said nothing.
And it was then that she knew. Remembering what JARVIS had quickly told her, what she herself had seen on the news that night before retiring to bed, she immediately knew what was wrong. Her heart ached now, because his heart ached.
He looked exhausted beyond measure, yes, tired from the flying, from the suit, from the fighting … tired, yes … but his eyes told her what the rest of his body tried to deny.
Tony had turned away from her now, and was guzzling once more at the sports drink carefully placed on a basket on the floor close to the bath's ledge. She wondered idly how he was able to drink so much of it when his stomach had been empty for days, but he had reserves of strength when it came to drinking – though this time it was no longer alcohol – that she could barely fathom … but they were a good thing, she guessed.
Silence stretched between them, he was … hurting… too much to say much of anything, and Pepper didn't know what could possibly be said at the moment.
The more she looked at him, the more her heart ached in empathy for his obvious hurting.
Tony had slowly gotten up now, and reached for the sponge and the shower gel nearby to start scrubbing at his body, his movements carefully controlled to minimise pain.
As Pepper looked at him, she reached a decision, and wasted no time in acting on it. He may not speak it, but his need for her probably long out-shadowed his need for anything else at that moment.
She untied the knot at her waist, letting the robe gape slightly open, revealing her simple nightgown underneath. Tony was looking at her again, and she held his gaze, letting all her empathy, compassion and love pour outwards to him.
Still holding his gaze with hers, her mouth now slightly open, unconsciously more alluring, her hands grasped the sides of her robe and she slowly pulled them apart, letting it softly cascade off her shoulders, where it puddled, the soft material whispering, onto the stone floor.
Pepper kept on looking at him, through him, into him, and tried to stave off her frissons of anticipation – this wasn't about sex, or seduction, it was about enveloping him in her loving essence, to soothe away at his hurts, fix what she alone could fix.
She grabbed the hem of her nightgown and raised her crossed arms, slowly, but neatly bringing it over her stomach, then her torso, and finally over her head, where it momentarily snagged her hair and left it to fall around her shoulders.
She looked so lovely, Tony thought achingly.
She wore no underwear save for her panties, and the soft, warm light dipped most becomingly across her collar-bone, shoulders, and the expanse of skin that was her breasts that he could never quite stop marvelling at.
He stood completely still now, his entire attention focused solely on his beautiful mate as she stripped for him, clearly planning to join him. The stirrings of excitement took him by surprise, the sheer *life* his libido seemed capable of, despite so many days spent fighting. He was already hard, just looking at her standing there, disrobing in her usual neat, utterly un-beguiling manner, her eyes on him, her body, and its loveliness only for him. She was his.
She slid her hands down her hips, under the elastic band of her panties, and kept going, pushing them off her legs, her body gracefully dipping and shifting, and then stepping out of them. Pepper gathered her clothes and quickly folded them and placed them on the surface next to her, where they kept the salts and such.
She was completely open and bare to his gaze now, and gaze at her Tony did, longingly, heatedly. A small, secret smile graced her lips, because he no longer wore that haunted expression on his face. Though she knew it was far from over, if she could care for him and give him some respite for a few hours, hopefully until tomorrow, then she would do it.
She stepped closer to the side where the couple of steps led down into the bath itself, rather like a pool, and sat down on the edge for a moment, testing the temperature on her feet, then slowly dipping in her legs halfway up to her calves.
Tony quickly sloshed his way over to her, his eyes staring at her intently, his body now familiarly raging to have her closer, a prelude to the delicious fusion he had envisioned earlier that day. Pepper too, couldn't look away from him as he came closer to her, her body singing with the emotions only he had ever stirred so strongly within her. She bit her lip unconsciously as she read and recognised the heat and wanting pooling in his liquid eyes; Tony hummed quietly at the sight.
When he reached her, he clasped her hips gently with his warm, large hands, and she felt the sheer strength of them, of his arms, as he slid her closer, and briefly lifted her above his head, before sliding her down into the water in front of him. The sheer contrast between their frames, their bodies, so delicious, so right, never failed to make her feel how utterly feminine she was next to his masculine warmth, and strength.
Pepper went breathless for a second when he raised her over his head, looking down at him looking up into her eyes, all passion and need written clearly for her to see. His gaze seared its way into her soul, and her insides stirred in recognition of his desire to renew the claim he'd staked on her body, marking her as his. Tony had always been possessive of her, but since entering a romantic, and physical relationship with him, she'd found that she was not irritated by it any more.
Pepper sighed softly as her body slowly slid down his front, her hands automatically seeking over his pectorals, kneading, inspecting, lightly worrying at his injuries. His own arms were steadfast around her slighter frame, possessive and tender.
His eyes roamed her face, devoured it, as she stared back at him, seeking that connection they had forged long ago with just their eyes, a connection that grew stronger and went deeper now that they were a couple, and openly in love, declared to one another.
Her lips were slightly parted in a small moue of distress, a small crease between her delicate eyebrows as she took him in, taking stock of his superficial injuries.
That look of loving concern always undid him, and he suspected it always would.
He breathed out her name, quietly, beseechingly, his eyes now staring at the lips he wanted to taste, beckoning him in. "Pepper …"
Her eyes gleamed at him and he fused their lips together, and drank from her like a man parched beyond comprehension. Her mouth was soft and pliant under his, her familiar scent enveloping her, getting stronger in the wake of her passion, pheromones enticing her lover. Tony kissed her, and Pepper kissed back, in a ritual they had perfected down to an art, hearts beating closely together.
Reunited, at last.
Their breaths mingled as they kissed each other: hot, open-mouthed, shatteringly intimate kisses, small nips, fleeting presses, tongues meeting, heatedly sliding over each other, tasting, soothing. Their bodies naturally edged closer, until she was raised slightly on her tiptoes, anchored securely by his right arm as it curled around her left shoulder, hand tangled in her curls. Her own left arm rested along his right shoulder, her other hand tangling in his luxuriously soft hair.
Each moved in a bid to bring the other closer, closer, always closer, because it seemed unavoidable, inevitable, for them to orbit around each other. One was a planet, the other its adoring satellite, forever orbiting together, unbreakable, inseparable.
To fuse their souls together once more, they first had to melt into one being, one body, skin to skin, heartbeat to heartbeat, heat to heat.
Pepper moaned with sheer desire, perfectly wanton to Tony's seeking, her head swimming with how much she wanted him, how much her body craved his, how much her heart threatened to burst with the *love* he'd claimed as his, and no one else's.
Their bodies sensually rubbed together in all the right places, the water a dimension of warmth, of wet, around them, as they danced, giving, taking, and then giving some more.
It was sheer nature, sheer chemistry – it always had been with them. They were perfectly matched, perfectly equals. Where Pepper mewled, Tony growled possessively, his hands tracing her curves, powered by lust and desire, yet tempered by tenderness and sheer devotion.
Where her hands scrabbled in purchase along his strong muscles, and her kisses seals of love upon his injuries, his embrace was protective even when they were like this, nuzzling her neck, drinking in her glorious scent, the one that marked her as *her*, the one that marked her as *his*.
His heart turned over with the intensity of his feelings for this dazzling creature, all softness matched with intelligence, her strong will hand-in-hand with her essentially caring nature. He needed her like quite nothing else in this world, unprecedented, unmatched.
He craved her like the best nectar a mortal could receive from the gods. He loved her with all the best that was in him, despite and in spite of the worst in him. She was his mate, his other half – undoubtedly his better half – she completed him. He never wanted to let go.
For her part, Pepper had known that once she let the gates of her love for him open, there would never be closing them back. He was it for her, for their lifetime.
All this they tried to communicate, to convey to the other, through touch, their senses, through mutual pleasure. Their love-making had always been specially intense, overwhelming in its nature right from the very beginning – years and years of pent up desire and hidden feelings would do that to you – but in the wake of his return home, safe and sound, it was always tinged with a slight desperation, to be closer, to rejoice in being reunited, that all was well, to reassure themselves they were alive, and here.
This time was no different.
They were so in tune with each other's needs. When their quests to fulfil their desires, to manifest their love, brought them to that inevitable pinnacle, that frenzy, it was the sweetest torture, and relief, for them both.
Tony grasped her hips and raised her again, Pepper winding her long legs around his midriff, lovingly clasping her arms around his neck, breathing hotly across his face, her mouth close on his cheek, breathing out words of tenderness and encouragement. Tony nuzzled his nose against her face adoringly, his hands smoothing down the curves of her back lovingly, poised at her entrance.
When she gently bit his lip and immediately soothed it with her tongue, raising her heavy-lidded eyes to meet his once again, he entered her, gasping out a breath, eyes closed, teeth skimming her neck. Her answering moan was music to his ears, and she clutched him even more tightly, shifting her body, rocking her hips as he thrust up at her, the water around them muffling their sounds, eddying in ripples towards the edges of the bath. The gentle sounds of the water splashing, as though from the hull of a boat smacking out at the sea, filled the chamber along with their panting, their moans, his groans, their whispered endearments.
They clutched at each other tightly, sliding together, her hips a perfect cradle fitting against his own. Quite simply, even physically, though you couldn't tell by looking at them, they were made for each other.
Pepper threw her head backwards, after a particularly hard grind of Tony thrusting up into her, her mouth open, voicing her disbelief – still, after all this time, that it should be so damned good between them – into a high-pitched moan, her hands clutching, seeking in purchase at his strong shoulders, trying to find a way to anchor herself to move even more.
When she was getting close to that pleasure that always blanked her mind and burst her sight with stars, Pepper began biting heatedly, gently, at Tony's neck, his tendons standing out with the effort.
He would be so sore in the morning, but this, them was so, so worth it.
Her cries became more desperate, her passion out of control, biting him, suckling at his neck, her sweet little voice in his ear driving him further, egging him on.
When they both came, they did it looking into each other's eyes, connecting through their gaze as well as their bodies. A tingle travelled up Pepper's spine as they melted into one, mirrored by the answering ripples along Tony's, as he filled her with his seed. He cried out and clutched her closer, and Pepper, devoid of breath, stared adoringly up into his face, placing small, open mouthed kisses upon his chin, his jaw, loving, soothing.
When his breath steadied, that familiar calm, that sense of *right* stole over him, and he clutched her to him, gently running a hand up and down her back, his face burrowing into her hair.
His heart told him that now he was truly home.
THE END