Work Text:
One
The first time Tony kisses Bruce he doesn’t even realize it until after the fact. It had been in Bruce’s lab of all places, papers, equations and honest to Lovelace white boards scattered all over the room. It was glorious. Both of them had been working on this particular project for two weeks now and were more than a little manic as consequence. Clint likes to joke about mad scientist in their lair. Not that he’ll ever admit it if it is true.
Tony knows he is feeling more a little strung out at this point, high on science and possibilities. There is a similar gleam in Bruce’s eyes that reflect the feeling. As does his hair from running his fingers through it too much. A habit that they both share apparently because Tony knows that he does the same.
His fingers itch to straighten it out. To run his hand through those messed up curls. To feel those wild locks. But he keeps his hands to himself, aware that there is a limit. A line you don’t cross. Or, well, not yet anyways. Not with this friendship between them so new. Not now when Bruce is still so skittish. It’s bound to happen eventually, of course.
As both Pepper and Rhodey can attest to, he is terrible at keeping his hands to himself after a certain point. Get him too tired or too excited or too lonely and he becomes an octopus. Rhodey especially has borne the brunt of this over the years.
But Bruce is still so unsure of himself here. As if he thinks that Tony is actually going to get tired of him or afraid or kick him out for some other reason. Ridiculous. Bruce is the first person he’s met in a long time that has been able to keep up with him. That has understood at least part of his language. Why would he want to lose that?
Plus the Other Guy is awesome so that’s hardly a worry. He’s saved Tony’s like after all. How can Tony be afraid now when he wasn’t before? The evidence hardly holds up to that. In fact it argues the exact opposite.
No one has ever said he had a great sense of self preservation for a reason.
But that is beside the point. The point is that Tony had been keeping his hands to himself like a good little boy when Bruce had a breakthrough.
“Wait,” he mutters and begins scribbling an equation out, “what if we’ve been looking at this wrong? What if instead of focusing on the inversion we increase x so that...” he trails off, numbers flying across the board.
Tony stops and stares. Part of that is because he is listening of course. The other part is because Bruce is glorious like this. Excitement and realization and confidence all shining through as he calculates. Really Tony should be given a prize for resisting.
“This,” Bruce points, grinning widely.
Tony looks closer, going over everything, doing the math in his head. This is - this - he can feel a grin of his own beginning to form. Yes. Yes . This is it. “Brucie bear!” he throws his arms out, “You brilliant, brilliant man you!”
Then they are hugging, arms around each other, jumping around as if they are back in middle school or something. He doesn’t care how ridiculous they must look right now though because they are done. They did it. Bruce did it.
Tony pulls back. “You are my absolute favorite science bro ever .” And Bruce just looks so happy and so carefree and so adorable that Tony can’t help himself. He kisses him. It is a quick peck on the lips, but a kiss nonetheless. Then he goes back to hugging him. But he notices that Bruce isn’t hugging him back anymore. “Bruce is something wrong?”
Bruce shakes his head and smiles. “Best science bro ever,” he agrees. They go back to celebrating.
:::
It is only that night, when he is finally in bed and almost asleep that he realizes what he did. Oh. But Bruce didn’t say anything about it so it must be okay. As long as he doesn’t do it again. He sleeps.
:::
Two
The second time it happens Tony still doesn’t realize he had until he wakes up more. Which takes a while.
Tony is up early, something he absolutely despises. Who invented mornings anyways? Ugh. But there is a board meeting for SI he can’t miss or Pepper might actually murder him. And then there are the three contracts they have to go over together and another meeting with R&D and ugh. He is going to be busy all day.
So he is up bright and early to make sure he makes everything on time. He stumbles blindly into the kitchen for coffee. Vaguely he hears the rest of the team moving around, cooking and eating and talking. Savages. Who is up at this time when they don’t have to be? Most of his attention is focused on his mission though, Coffee. He desperately needs coffee if he wants to be able to function today.
But then, a tragedy. There isn’t any coffee left. The savages have already drank it all. Now he is going to have to wait. A whine escapes his throat as he stares remorsefully at the empty pot. Oh the burdens of living with other people. Why must life be so cruel?
But then, a miracle. He hears a soft laugh and a cup of coffee is placed in front of him. It is still steaming hot and poured into his favorite mug - the big one Rhodey got him in college. There is no thought - he snatches it and drains it as fast as he can. Which is pretty fast all things considering. He’s long developed the skill of drinking too hot coffee without pause.
When he is finished he sets it down to look at his saviour. Bruce. His expression is part amusement, part horror - the standard look for when people see him drink said coffee like this. Weaklings. One does not simply let coffee cool. Still he is the one who supplied Tony with life today. That deserves thanks.
Words still aren’t a thing so he kisses him instead. On the lips because his coordination isn’t there either really. Ignoring the snickers he stumbles out to continue getting ready.
:::
Tony is in the middle of his second board meeting of the day when he realizes what he did. Oops.
:::
Three
The third time, there may or may not have been an adrenaline rush involved. And a much needed diversion. Possibly a near death experience if one listens to the disbelievers. As if Tony would ever let himself die, ever, let alone have a second grade science fair reject be responsible for it. Please. He has so much more class than that.
But yes, adrenaline, what a wonderful thing.
So he is sitting in the middle of a debrief, wishing he was anywhere else. He had long tuned out what Steve is saying, mind on better, more important things. He was there, why does he have to hear this? Besides he is sure that he’ll hear it again. Steve is sure to read him the riot act when they get back to the Tower. He’d so hate to have the latest lecture ruined by listening to the spoilers now.
Plus he is jittery, hyped and fidgety. The inevitable crash hasn’t happened yet so he is incapable of sitting still. He bounces his leg - made easier since he is currently out of the armour - adjusts his seat, wiggles his pen. Eventually he starts tapping his fingers, complaining to Steve via morse code to hurry it up.
He still has too much energy to burn, ideas moving too fast. He can’t just sit here and waste time like this. He has to move . Plus this isn’t where he wants to be when the crash does come. Being exhausted at SHIELD is not his idea of a good time. Or a safe one. He’s already had to fend off medical from getting too handsy. Being anywhere near Fury - or anyone else who works here - when he isn’t one hundred percent and alert is a bad idea.
So yes he is complaining. Maybe everyone assumes that he is acting like a brat - and maybe he is - but he has his reasons. He wants to go home . Where its safe . Where he can process the battle on his own time and in his own way. Debriefing always makes him itchy. As if everyone is waiting to find out how he messed up this time.
Maybe that is him being too paranoid. Jumping at shadows that aren’t really there. But he doubts it. He’s lived his entire life in the limelight after all, he knows how these things work. The rumours that never take the whole truth into account. The vultures just waiting for a vulnerable moment to spread through their pages.
Oh yes, he is well aware of it.
Being among spies only makes everything worse. Who knows what they see when they look at him. Who knows what they assume. He is well aware of his popularity - or lack thereof - among these people. Natasha’s assessment rings in his ears. Whether it was reverse psychology or not it doesn’t matter. That is how people see him. How they always see him. What they always assume.
He’s arrogant, egotistical, a brat, selfish, a whole laundry list of faults. He can read it in their eyes.
Everyone cares about what Tony can give them, can do for them. How they can use him. But very few people care about Tony himself. What a depressing thought. It’s also a sure sign that he is about to come down. Hard.
“Is there something helpful you would like to add Stark?” Fury interrupts. “Out loud?”
Oh that’s right. Spy organization. Morse code. Obviously Steve isn’t going to be the only one to understand it. He gives his best media smile. “Everyone seems to be ignoring the hero of the hour - the Big Guy,” he says before anyone can ask. Or make a crack, “He deserves all of the credit here. We couldn’t have done it without him? He leans over to Bruce, who is sitting beside him and kisses him on the cheek.
Bruce smiles tiredly at him. “I’ll pass on the message for you.”
“Thanks Brucie bear,” he beams and kisses him again, “That’s for being so awesome.”
“Favoritism!” Clint shouts, “I’m feeling neglected here. Cheated. Favorites aren’t allowed if they aren’t me.”
“Don’t be jealous bird brain. Just because Bruce is smarter than you. And prettier. And -”
“Alright,” Fury sighs, “back on topic people. The sooner we get done, the sooner I don’t have to see you.”
Ah the love. Tony looks over at Bruce and winks.
:::
Four
The fourth time Tony is wrapped around Rhodey like a blanket when the rest of the team joins them. He has three days leave so that Tony can upgrade the War Machine armour and he has been taking full advantage of it. His honeybear is far too busy anymore - they both are.
“Intruders,” Tony accuses, staring at them suspiciously.
“Movie night,” Natasha declares instead as she claims another one of the couches.
“There are other rooms to do it in,” he grumbles, “why are you here ?” Alright so he’s being childish here, but he hasn’t seen Rhodey in five months now. He’s feeling a little clingy and he’s allowed to. Rhodey has never seriously complained so it’s fine.
“This has the best furniture,” she answers.
“Easy there attack cat, it’s fine.” Rhodey runs a hand through his hair. “I’m not going anywhere.” He scratches at the base of Tony’s neck.
Predictably Tony melts into the gesture. Oh that’s cheating, but it feels so good. This doesn’t happen nearly often enough, but then again Rhodey is one of the few people Tony trusts to get this close like this. If he were a cat he would be purring by now.
“Looks like someone is being replaced,” Clint teases.
Tony turns to look at him. “What are you talking about now Katniss?”
“Looks like your Brucie bear is no longer your favorite anymore.” He grins wide and mischievously. As if that is actually true.
He makes sure he has a full view of his eye roll. “Don’t be ridiculous, of course, Bruce is still my favorite. Platypus here just happens to be on another level of awesome. You’re never going to be my number one anyways, so stop stirring the pot.”
“I don’t know,” Clint says, still grinning, “I think he might be a little green over there.”
Tony turns more in time to see Bruce shake his head at Clint. “Devastated,” he deadpans.
Clint points. “See! He admits it. How could you be so cruel breaking another’s heart like that?” he asks dramatically.
Natasha throws a pillow at him. “Be quiet so we can pick a movie.”
“What? I thought it was my turn,” he pouts, “Mutiny!”
“Can’t lose control of what you never had,” Natasha says with a straight face.
That sets them off, Thor and Steve quickly getting pulled in.
“You’re not really feeling neglected are you Brucie?” Tony asks, “You know that you’ll always have a special place in my heart. I science only with you.”
“I don’t know,” Bruce says, mouth twitching, “Not sure if I should believe it or not right now.”
“My heart,” Tony gasps, “how can you doubt me?” He scrambles up, ignoring Rhodey’s complaints as they untangle. Marching over he takes Bruce’s face between his hands and says, as seriously as he can manage, “I pledge your lab and my genius to you,” before kissing him.
They stare at each other for a moment when Tony pulls back before laughing. Yeah no, he can’t help himself. Not with how badly Bruce was failing to keep a straight face of his own. “Don’t you mean your lab?”
“Technically it’s a workshop,” Tony answers between giggles.
“Get a room you two,” Clint calls over, obviously paying attention despite the debate.
Tony flips him off as he goes over to rejoin Rhodey. “My Tower, my rules. You think you get a say when you don’t even pay rent?”
“Screw you too man.” He goes back to arguing for Die Hard. Naturally.
Rhodey gives him a look when he lays back down.
“What?” That is a very specific look and one that is totally uncalled for. He’s not being anymore ridiculous than usual. Nor is he being a lovable, oblivious idiot. What is there to be oblivious about? Sure this has become a habit of sorts, but it doesn’t mean anything. Not like that anyways.
“Nothing at all Tones.” He ruffles his hair.
He narrows his eyes at him. Nothing. Yeah right. It’s never nothing. But what is he missing here?
:::
Five
The fifth time is because Tony ends up having to deal with some of the worst kinds of people ever - reporters. Reporters have been a part of his life since a very young age so he is well versed in just how despicable they can be. Oh sure, not everyone is. Tony has a list - a very short list - of his favorites to use over the years. But for the most part reporters are in the same category as paparazzi - soul sucking demons.
But however much he dislikes dealing with them, deal with them he must. Mainly because they give him no other choice.
They had been caught post battle, helping civilians and unable to make their escape soon enough. It hadn’t taken long for the sharks to surround them. Tony wants to groan, loud and long. This latest battle has already been enough without this as well. They are all covered in some kind of goo and ready to leave .
“Mr Stark,” one of them calls, “What can you tell us about the origins of this latest disaster? Another alien attack?”
“Mr Stark, are the rumours true about you and -”
“Mr Stark, what do you say about all of the property damage -”
“Mr Stark, can you confirm -”
An absolute flood of questions are hurled his way. Mr Stark, Mr Stark, Mr Stark he mocks in his head. As if he isn’t in the armour right now. As if he is the only person here. Probably for the best, he has the most experience, but that doesn’t mean he has to enjoy it.
“Mr Stark, how can you condone keeping such a dangerous beast like the Hulk in the city?”
Well that is certainly enough to get his attention. He’s well versed enough not to give him the reaction he obviously wants. Instead he smiles slowly and sharply. “You mean my trusted teammate? Who’s saved my life more than once” He pretends to think about it. “Well for one thing the Big Guy has better manners than you ever will. For another,” he blows a kiss to an exhausted Bruce by the quinjet, “It’s both sides of the coin I’m attached to if you know what I mean. Moving on now.”
:::
There so called ‘love affair’ makes the front page of the paper the next day.
A new ship name is born. Tony frames the picture they use. Pepper rolls her eyes at him. Bruce just smiles without saying a word against it. Life goes happily on.
:::
Plus One
“Honey I’m home,” Tony calls as he walks into the kitchen and collapses into one of the chairs, exhausted. It had been a long two weeks spent out of the country on SI business. Originally it was only supposed to be four days, but the saying about god laughing while mortals plan once again held true. Not the he believes in any god that doesn’t currently live with him, but point.
He’s arrived at lunch, New York time, so the team is already sitting at the table. Food enough for a small army weighs it down. Then again it may not be an army here, but it’s close enough. Personally he’s just glad to arrive without any sign of emergency in sight. Not that that can’t change quick enough, but at least it gives him an illusion of peace. Right now he doubts he’d have the energy to put the suit on, let alone fight.
“Heya sugar buns,” Clint greets with a flutter of his eyelashes.
Tony throws a french fry at him.
Clint, because he’s an ass like that, manages to catch it in his mouth.
“Welcome home,” Bruce says, setting an already full plate of food down in front of him before taking a seat next to him. And coffee. There is coffee too.
“You do love me,” he cries happily as he takes a big gulp. Ah, perfect.
“Of course I do,” Bruce agrees easily. He waits until Tony puts down the cup and then leans over to kiss him. There is nothing spectacular about it - a short, warm press of the lips. But it is familiar and wonderful and Tony’s brain short circuits slightly.
They’ve never actually talked about this before. Even when Tony finally realized what he was doing, they never did. It just - became habit. Bruce never seemed to mind or complain and Tony - just kept going. It’s no secret to him why it became a thing after all. That doesn’t mean it has to mean anything. Not to Bruce.
There is a look in his eyes that tells Tony he might be wrong after all though. “Yeah?” he asks tentatively, afraid to hope.
“Yeah,” Bruce nods, smile soft and eyes warm, before kissing him again.
“Finally!” Clint shouts, “now can you please not in front of my salad?”
Both of them ignore him. Tony’s Tower, Tony’s rules - and Tony says yes please.