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There were a lot of things in his life that Tony regret, but none of them were quite so immediate as the cause of the painful ache in his stomach.
He should have known better than to try and drink with Thor--or rather to try and keep up with Thor, but that was in the past and now all he had was the quickened pace of his breathing and the slight sting of a palmprint where Thor had clapped him on the back in congratulations of formidable effort to distract him from how much ale he'd consumed.
Being drunk off of his ass was also helping a little, or so he thought. How could he be sure it wasn't just making it worse? A hiccup sent another pang through him as his stomach protested the strain and he groaned, second guessing every decision he'd made in the past few hours all over again.
He was curled up on his bed, back to the headboard and one hand on his gut with his eyes closed to help the room stop spinning quite so much. So maybe being this full and this drunk at the same time was a shitty combination, and when another hiccup jostled him again, he almost considered just giving in and making himself throw it up just to be done with it.
And that was when Bruce walked in.
Moving had been the real obstacle that'd stopped Tony from going through with that desperate train of thought, and he didn't even look up as he heard the other man's footsteps approaching. At some point in the evening, he'd known that seeing Bruce again before morning had been going to happen, but sometime between then and now he'd forgotten all about him. The scientist wasn't a fan of sticking around through the rowdy antics of Thor and his friends when they were down visiting Earth, and Tony never tried to get him to stay.
"Tony..." There was concern in Bruce's voice as he approached, not entirely sure what was wrong until a soft belch followed another hiccup from Tony and he groaned again. Typical. Well, sort of. This was a state beyond what he'd seen him in before, clutching his gut like he was in pain instead of just really drunk.
"What happened?" He could take a guess, but better not to assume just in case something was wrong. Settling slowly up on the bed beside him, Bruce gave him another once-over before he dropped his hand to gently rest on top of Tony's and then brushed the hair from his eyes with the other.
"Thor." Tony slowly opened his eyes and looked up at the other, as if the name alone was enough of an explanation. When Bruce continued to look concerned, he took a shallow breath and went on. "I tried to keep up. Too much ale." That he was so bloated with it that he didn't even want to speak in full sentences should say enough, and he reached up almost clumsily with his other hand to grab Bruce's shoulder just to keep himself grounded.
Bruce made a tired noise, sighed slowly and went to lift Tony's hand off of his stomach--a gesture met with no resistance. So long as Bruce didn't try to move him, he trusted him enough to let him do whatever it was he wanted to do here without protest, and he just swallowed thickly and closed his eyes again.
"Jesus, Tony..." Lifting Tony's shirt was more like peeling it up, the fabric stretched so tight across his gut that it'd already been riding up on its own and he pushed it up until it was tucked just above the beginning of the swell, the reactor still covered. He was distended enough that the normally solid outline of his abs was just about gone, and Bruce had to imagine that he was still struggling to keep it all down which would explain the quickened breathing and the sheen of sweat he'd felt on his forehead. He also knew well enough that liquid would move through him much more quickly than anything else would have though, which meant Tony probably hadn't been sitting here alone for long before he'd wandered up. To go to bed. Something he was going to have to postpone now, and Tony would be getting an earful for that once he was properly conscious again.
"If you don't remember this in the morning, remind me to fill you in on how stupid this was." Bruce grumbled as he settled his own back against the headboard as well, bitter sarcasm intended and entirely expected to go right over Tony's head at the moment.
"Move forward a little bit, I want you to sit between my legs." He reached over to touch the small of Tony's back, urging him to scoot forward on the bed, something that Tony absolutely did not want to do.
"Can't. Can't move."
"Yes, you can. Do it, or I'll do it for you." It wasn't that he didn't care, but somehow Tony had gotten himself into bed which meant that he could move and he was too tired to take any of his shit right now. Tough love was met with a sound of protest, but when Bruce urged him forward with a little push, he seemed to find the strength to shift forward a little. The action had him groaning again, the ale sloshing in his belly enough that he could feel it but before he could focus in on it too well, Bruce was squeezing himself in behind him and he was distracted by a warm palm smoothing over the ache.
It wasn't exactly the most professional treatment he'd ever doled out, but what else could he do for the man besides attempt to rub some of the pressure away? Tony let his head fall heavy back against Bruce's shoulder as he smoothed his palm over the swell of his stomach, his own head tipped back against the headboard and he took a deep breath again. He was tired but he couldn't just roll over and sleep with Tony this pathetic.
"I bet Thor's already passed out, sleeping like a baby." He murmured, mindful of how close his mouth was to Tony's ear now, but he kept rubbing slow circles.
"Bet he is." Tony murmured in response, relaxing beneath Bruce's touch. It felt good; it was a better distraction than he'd managed to find alone.
"And I'm still awake." Much to his chagrin, and Tony could sense the distaste for that fact in his tone of voice.
"I owe you."
"...Is it helping?" Bruce hadn't let up yet, and Tony's soft hum of appreciation was answer enough to keep him going.
"'m gonna...go whatever you want me to, all day tomorrow."
"You're going to what?"
"Do, whatever you wan--" Realizing his mistake, Tony was quick to correct himself even if he was still slurring, but as he shifted softly in Bruce's lap, he hiccuped again and cut himself off. Then he hiccuped again, and Bruce paused in his rubbing, concerned for a moment that he was going to end up with a lapfull of ale despite his efforts.
"Whatever you want m--" Starting again, another hiccup cut him off, but then Tony just belched loud and low for a good few seconds once he'd straightened up a bit more to relieve some of the pressure. Then he slumped back against Bruce with a satisfied moan rather than something pained, took a deeper breath and closed his eyes with every intention of letting himself drift off like this.
"...Better?" He'd wrinkled his nose, but he gave Tony's gut a soft pat and then kept up a slow rub still even as he closed his eyes.
"...Getting there..."
"Great...Go to sleep, Tony."
He wasn't sure which one of them had drifted off first, but he did know that he'd kicked Tony on purpose some time later when the other man scrambling out of bed to take a leak had resulted in a knee to his thigh.
Never again.