Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“What. The. Hell.”

If Tony possessed the superhuman ability of the physicist who followed just behind him from the elevator, then Thor and Clint would be goners. Or, at least Thor. Since he was currently in possession of something that most certainly did not belong to him. In fact, it belonged to Tony. And not only did it belong to Tony, it happened to be his one of a kind working replica of a Star Wars lightsaber. It was something he had built himself and that nobody other than Rhodey had ever, ever been allowed to handle and live to tell the tale. Okay, Happy had survived too, but just barely.

“Oh my god.” Bruce’s shock was much more understated, but no less genuine.

He watched with wide eyes as Thor turned quickly on his heel like a guilty child caught with his hand in the cookie jar, only turning once to deflect a final arrow that Clint had let fly right after Tony had interrupted. Speaking of Tony, Bruce knew the man was one second away from short circuiting. He could feel the man practically vibrating with anger beside him and was momentarily relieved for Thor’s sake and Clint’s that Tony did not have a Hulk living just beneath his surface. He was also immediately aware that he would probably have to act as delegate in the coming moments and the irony of him of all people often being a peacekeeper was not lost on him.

“You have 10 seconds to explain and your time started 20 seconds ago so you better have a damn good reason why you broke the Cardinal Rule of Avengers Tower.” Tony fumed as he walked over and grabbed the lightsaber from the demigod and then moved back over to stand by Bruce, turning to face Thor again.

“I am sorry, Tony. It is just that I have never seen such a fascinating weapon. You know that I am keenly fond of Star Wars now that I have had the pleasure of watching the films and have wondered at the might of such a weapon for many, many months now. I should have asked your permission so I do not begrudge your anger. But if I erred it was only because my wonder at such a thing existing when I stumbled upon it and my desire to wield it overwhelmed my better judgment.”

“Damn, Stark. How could you still be angry after an apology like that,” Clint interjected, shaking his head.

Oh, he could still be angry. Tony Stark means it when he says: DON’T TAKE MY STUFF. Hands off. No exceptions. Unless HE makes the exception for you.

“Zip it, bird boy,” Tony snapped, pointing at Clint. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re an accessory after the fact. And I’ll have you know, this is a one of a kind. There are absolutely no other working models of these things in existence as far as I’m aware so I don’t need the two of you putting the count of working lightsabers back down to zero.”

He tried to breathe deeply as he inspected the replica for any damage. Even a single scratch or ding and he might just say the hell with it and take one or both of them down with the lightsaber.

“Relax, Tony, jeez,” Clint snapped back. “You’re Tony Stark. Just build more. I mean, what’s the point of having just one? You at least need two to complete the set. But why have any at all really if you’re not even going to use them?”

Bruce’s eyes widened as a thought occurred to him. “He might have a point, Tony,” he began quietly. “Thor is probably the closest thing we’ve got right now to Star Wars evolving from science-fiction to science fact. I think we may owe it to- to, well, both of those communities to expand on that possibility.”

“I’m not giving him my lightsaber, Bruce,” Tony said pointedly, raising an incredulous eyebrow at the doctor.

“I wasn’t suggesting that and I’m a little hurt that you think I was,” Bruce replied just as candidly, not missing the immediate apologetic shadow that fell across Tony’s face. “I’m suggesting we build another one for Thor." Bruce glanced over at Thor and saw the eager expression that overtook the demigod. He then looked back at Tony. "I know you like being one of a kind, Tony, but this could be a big step, you know? I think Thor’s innate fascination is telling and we should…”

“…follow that lead, right,” Tony finished the statement knowingly.

He looked at Bruce thoughtfully. Sometimes he hated when he was right. But right now he mostly hated himself for actually wanting to drag Bruce back down to his workshop and bang out another working model. Because the first time he had been bored, just a little bit lonely, perhaps a little bit tipsy and there hadn’t been anyone to immediately share in his nerdgasm let alone in the entire spiritual experience of creating it. He knew he should still be seething that Thor had broken his trust and taken his stuff, but he’s not. He’s kind of okay with it. And it’s all Bruce’s fault.

“So?” Bruce studied Tony carefully.

Tony had that look on his face that Bruce had come to recognize as his ‘I don’t know if I want to kiss you or kill you’ face. Essentially, he could tell that Tony was weighing the suggestion carefully, wandering down the strange, intricate paths of his mind, looking for any gears that didn’t click. And Bruce knew he would be lying if he said he didn’t hope that Tony would come to a positive conclusion regarding the suggestion because he would love to help with that kind of project. He hadn’t gotten to experience a lot of things in his lifetime that made his inner science-fiction nerd flail, for one sad reason or another. But something of this magnitude would maybe make up for that.

“You. Me. Workshop. Now.” Tony smiled broadly and Bruce rolled his eyes slightly at the intentional innuendo, but gladly followed.

“Hey, you two, get your priorities straight,” Clint heckled behind them. “Lightsaber first and then you can sex it up.”

20 hours – or 30 cups of coffee, 8 cups of tea, 3 near explosions, 1 small fire, 1 argument regarding the Star Wars theme being on an endless loop, 4 near Hulk-outs, and 3 hours worth of Yoda speak until potential Hulk-out number 5 loomed in the distance – later, Bruce and Tony were finally putting the finishing touches on the new working model. 

“I think Barton’s going to be disappointed if we don’t have sex after this,” Tony said jokingly as he worked on adjusting the brightness level of the light.

“I wasn’t aware Clint was interested in having sex with you at all,” Bruce replied dryly as he double checked the specs.

Tony laughed. “Well, he probably is, but let’s not put that idea into the universe. I meant you and me, obviously. He’s probably got some fantasy about us getting ultra turned on by this geek science and not being able to help ourselves or something.” Tony then paused. He rolled the idea over in his mind as he looked at the lightsaber and then over to Bruce, a lascivious smile spreading across his face as he took in Bruce’s sleep-deprived dishevelment. “Hmm. There might be something said for that kind of fantasy.”

Bruce looked up at the shameless engineer with a disapproving frown. “Should have had sex before we started,” he began in an even tone, relishing in Tony’s momentary surprise. “Because now every time I look at you I’m relatively certain I’ll hear the Star Wars theme in my head and that’s about as conducive to good sex as an appearance from the Other Guy.” He finished with his own wry smile.

“Clearly you and I have very different ideas about what equates good sex,” Tony replied with a point of his finger before turning back to his work. “You know I am, however, beginning to wonder if Thor really deserves this thing.”

“I really wish you would have mentioned that about 3 near incidents ago,” Bruce deadpanned. “Why, you suddenly think he’s not worthy?”

Tony snorted. “No, that’s not it. Now that you mention it though, I kind of want to rig it so it doesn’t work at first and then see his face when I tell him he’s not worthy.”

“I’m not sure if it’s the lack of sleep or being locked in a workshop with you for 20 hours, but I think I actually want to see that.”

“Bruce Banner’s seal of approval? That does it. This thing is so getting rigged.” They both laughed for a moment before Tony added, “And for the record, the workshop isn’t actually locked so you could have left at any time.” Bruce rolled his eyes and laughed just a little bit more. “Anyway, what I was going to say is I think if anyone deserves working model number two... It should be you,” Tony said, reaching his previous point in a tone that was much more understated than before - almost shy if the word could ever accurately be used for a man like Tony Stark. 

Bruce’s laughter faltered and he looked over at the engineer, who he could tell was purposely not looking back. Sometimes after a long science bender, Tony would get like this. He would suddenly say something unexpectedly, off-the-cuff, soberly sentimental and Bruce had come to realize he meant it when he did. It could be about anything, from a confession to not disliking so-and-so as much as he let on to a random memory from his childhood followed by an honest response to said memory. And when he got like this, Tony was the image of frightening vulnerability. He looked to Bruce like a little boy hoping someone would be so grateful for his honesty that they would swoop in and hold him close because that’s all he really wanted.

It was sad and beautiful all at once because Bruce knew that this was the real Tony Stark, a man who, whether he would ever admit it, wanted his father or mother to magically waltz into the room and genuinely take him into their arms and never let go. Although he knew not all of Tony’s flash and bang was an act, he inherently was a people person with a spring of charisma always bubbling just below the surface, Bruce also knew that this was the part of Tony Stark that completed the picture and very few people had ever had the pleasure of seeing the full, beautiful masterpiece. Bruce was increasingly grateful that he was now one of those select few.

“Thank you, Tony,” Bruce replied finally. He wasn’t going to throw that kind of compliment back in Tony’s face no matter how silly it might be for him to have a lightsaber. But it was silly. He wasn’t a fighter. He didn’t need it, nor did the Other Guy. And it had been promised to Thor.

“You do deserve it though,” Tony pressed on, less vulnerability in his voice now, which Bruce took to mean that he had gotten the immediate sentiment off his chest and would soon slip back into ‘only casually considerate’ Tony. “You helped me build it, for one. And, frankly, Barton makes a good point about actually sparring with these things so I’d much rather spar with you, buddy.”

“I appreciate the thought,” Bruce replied earnestly. “But I don’t think I’d be any good at it anyhow. Han Solo, I am not,” he said with a slightly self-deprecating smile. “And we already got Thor's hopes up so I couldn’t do that to him anyhow.”

“So what you’re saying is even if I insisted on giving it to you instead, you wouldn’t take it?” Tony raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Take it, I would not,” Bruce answered in his best Yoda impression. “Disappoint my friend, you think I will, hmm? Much to learn you still have, my old Padawan.”

Tony squeezed an eye shut as he deciphered Bruce’s meaning and then let out an overdramatic huff. “Alright, I won’t pull you over to the dark side. But I think I’m going to make more of these bad boys for the rest of the team and you’re so next in line whether you like it or not.” He held the finished replica, grabbed his original one and walked over to stand beside Bruce. “Still, I’m not patient enough to wait until then so you’re at least going to spar with me a few times to test them out.”

“I don’t know…” Bruce seemed hesitant, but Tony wasn’t going to let that get in the way this time.

“Hey, you won’t even have to use Thor’s,” Tony intervened with a genuine grin and held out his original replica to Bruce. The physicist was more than surprised by the gesture if his widened eyes were any indication and Tony fought back an eye roll at the man’s unrelenting initial shock over anything good being offered to him. “I’m offering it to you to use. Big difference from Thor just taking without permission. Sometimes I think you wouldn’t even stare at it longer than you think you’re allowed to just in case you were breaking my number one rule.”

“I guess I could see myself doing that,” Bruce replied with a small shrug that made Tony want to grab him by those same shoulders and just… shake some sense into him?

“Okay, but here’s the thing. In case you haven’t gotten the hint yet, the rule doesn’t really apply to you.” He held out the lightsaber more firmly. “So unless you’d rather indulge Barton’s little fantasy instead, just take it already and let’s go figure out which one of us the force is strongest with, hmm?”

“Nerd,” Bruce replied in mock indignation as he grabbed the lightsaber and walked towards the stairs that led to the adjoining weapons testing room.

“But a sexy one,” Tony corrected as he quickly caught up.

Bruce snorted. “Yeah and it’s a little unfair to the rest of us. You could dial it down a notch, you know.”

“I’m glad to know you agree, but now I’m under the impression the contractors forgot to install a mirror in your en suite which is a serious snafu.”

“Save the Jedi mind tricks for the spar, Tony.”

And if Tony momentarily fell behind him, a confused shadow falling across his face, Bruce didn’t see it.

Chapter Text

“Uh… Tony?” Bruce stopped and looked around in confusion at the parking lot he and Tony were currently in. They had just had a long day at a huge carnival up state, Clint having tagged along with them in Tony’s McLaren F1 and Natasha and Steve stopping to pick up Sam in Natasha’s car. Thor was currently off-world.

The engineer stopped beside him, but was currently paying more attention to the tropical fish he had used a little bit of Hulk strength to win for the easily-amused billionaire. The man could easily have bought one at the pet store on his way home, or an entire aquarium if he wanted, but instead had insisted on having one of the ones that were prizes for the high striker. He had then proceeded to fail miserably, blaming it on the high striker being rigged because obviously as an engineer his ability to hammer something should be in flawless form. It certainly couldn’t have anything to do with having learned to rely on his gauntlets for strength or his lack of hardcore engineering these days. But Bruce had figured it wouldn’t hurt to unrig the rigged game with just enough Hulk strength so Tony would shut up about it. Until he had nearly broken said game and the Carnie had looked at him in dangerous suspicion. It probably was rigged after all and so Bruce felt less bad about it than he would normally. And the goofy expression on the absolute man-child beside him was also worth it.

Bruce shook his head at him in slight amusement, but then looked around again and remembered his previous concern. “Uh, hey, this is where we parked right?”

Tony looked up finally and looked around with a furrowed brow. “I don’t know. Here, hold Hulkie for me while I check the ticket.” The sentence fell so casually from his mouth that Bruce didn’t quite register it until he already had the fish bowl in his hands.

“Hulkie?” He raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Well, he’s green isn’t he?” Tony raised his hands as if it were obvious. “And I did a quick search on what kind of fish he is and J.A.R.V.I.S. believes he may be a Green Tiger Barb and turns out they’re known for being slightly aggressive. So, come on, I couldn’t not go with that name.” He said all of this as he pulled out his wallet and looked for their parking stub.

“You really think that they’re just going to be handing out Green Tiger Barbs at a carnival? Really? It’s more likely some poor, artificially colored creature,” Bruce said with a pessimistic sigh as he waited for Tony to figure out where they were parked. “And I don’t buy for a second that you wouldn’t have named it Hulkie even if it was blue with red flames on its gills.”

“Yep, probably would have, big guy.” Tony gave him a cheeky smile before inspecting the ticket more carefully and then turning and looking at the large aisle marker in confusion. “Yeah, this is where we’re at. 26…27…2-“ Tony’s face twisted in horror and Bruce’s original fear was confirmed. “What the hell? The car should be right there!”

“Tony, where’s Clint?” Bruce asked him, trying to keep an even tone for both of their sakes.

“He, uh, he…” Tony’s eyes widened and his face grew red as he figured it out. “That fucking bastard! I told him he could go on to the car because his arms were getting tired carrying all those damn plush dolls around.” Tony immediately pulled out his StarkPhone and had J.A.R.V.I.S. contact Clint. As soon as Clint picked up, Tony shouted, “Where the hell are you, Katniss? What gave you the idea you could just take my car for a fucking joyride?” This degenerated into a longer string of mostly incoherent expletive-laden grunts and protests.

“Are you done now?” Clint finally spoke up. “And how’s the doc? Is he looking green at all?”

Tony’s eyes flickered to Bruce in sudden concern. The physicist was taking deep breaths and Tony’s previous anger was temporarily squelched. “Hey, Bruce, we doin’ okay?”

Bruce let out a deep, harsh breath and then offered a gritted smile. “If you could maybe tone down the yelling a little bit, that’d be great. Thanks.”

“Got it. Maybe try focusing on little Hulkie. Swimming fish are incredibly soothing,” Tony added, pointing to the fish and then returned to the phone call.

“Little Hulkie?” Clint asked and if he was trying to hide his patronizing tone, he was failing miserably.

“You’ve got 3 seconds.”

“Yeah, sorry, I was gonna call you, but I got a message from the others that they needed immediate back-up just south of here. They ran into some weird mutant battle on their way back. I’m on my way there now.”

“AND YOU COULDN’T HAVE JUST-“ Tony caught himself and looked over at Bruce apologetically, but he was zoned in on the fish. He smiled in spite of everything, but then got back to the matter at hand. “You couldn’t have just alerted us and waited? Seriously, it would have been what? Five minutes longer? If they can’t handle themselves for five minutes longer then they really have no business being superheroes.”

“Yeah, look, okay, I’m sorry. Not my best call. You two just chill a little longer in the area and I’ll be back once I help the others.” Clint hung up before Tony could protest that stupid plan.

“He took my car. He took. my. car. He took my car, Bruce!”

“Yep, heard you the first two times.” Bruce breathed out deeply.

“Right, sorry, I’ll just…” Tony let his voice trail off into silence.

He seemed genuinely determined this time not to upset Bruce further, for which the latter was grateful. Bruce willed his temper back down to something only worth being a little concerned about, but he also knew that once his frustration spiked, it would be best not to take any chances needlessly provoking it further. It was always far too easy for the next spike to actually incite the Hulk out of his resting place. If ever there was truth to the old “fool me once, fool me twice” adage, Bruce mused, it applied to Hulk’s decision on whether or not to show up sometimes.

Bruce sighed and opened his eyes, looking directly at Tony as he did. “Obviously we don’t have any choice, but to hang out so if it’s all the same to you can we please go somewhere else? I don’t think I’m in any condition to go traipsing back through a carnival surrounded by loud noises and lots of people.”

“J.A.R.V.I.S., what would be a suitable place nearby for Bruce to unwind a little while we wait?” Tony asked the AI installed on his personal StarkPhone.

There was a pause. “May I suggest a stroll along the canal a few miles due west, Sir? It is by all accounts relatively quiet with only the atmospheric charm of a few scattered restaurants, paddle boating, some live jazz and other assorted similar activities.”

“You may suggest that, yes, J. Thank you.” Tony thanked the AI and then turned to Bruce with an expression of mock suspicion. “If I didn’t know any better, Bruce, I’d almost think you planned this.”

“Seriously?” Bruce asked with a skeptical grin.

“Planned the whole thing. Bribed or threatened Barton to strand us here so you could take me on a super artsy date. You could have just asked, Brucie.”

“Yeah, well, you know. I’ve never been good with the direct approach,” Bruce joked along and then held the fish bowl back out for Tony to take. “Planned or not, it does sound like an enjoyable way to pass time.”

The two men strolled along at a casual pace, taking in the sights and sounds of the peaceful canal. Bruce had to admit that it was extremely relaxing. There were beautiful flowers, butterflies, birds, displays of modern art, and much more. It was all very, very nice. And, surprisingly, Tony didn’t make for bad company in this kind of place. He had, perhaps unfairly, suspected that Tony might get bored quickly and start back up on his complaints about Clint taking his car, but instead Tony seemed to blend into their surroundings like a chameleon. 

“I like this actually,” Tony said after a few moments of silence as though he could read Bruce’s inner ponderings. “It’s nice. It kind of reminds me of some of the artsier gala appearance I’ve done for SI, but I don’t know… It’s also different. It’s more chill, more hypnotic. You’re rubbing off on me, aren’t you? That’s what this is.”

Bruce gave a small laugh. “Well, I’m not going to apologize if so. I’m pretty sure you could afford to enjoy a little more leisurely pace every now and then.”

Tony considered this as they walked in silence again, getting lost in the sounds all around them rather than in conversation. It was true. He could probably benefit from a slower pace sometimes. He certainly couldn’t imagine himself going for broke and building a farm in the middle of nowhere by any means, but this was… This was still nice. It was like a blend of the easy-going style of life with the buzz and freshness of city-life.

Tony looked at the man beside him, noticing his fixed gaze on something, and followed his line of sight. Bruce, the perpetual teddy bear that he was, seemed to be watching a father teaching his young daughter the various names of flowers as she pointed at this one and that. He had a soft smile on his face and Tony realized it was Bruce’s company that made this nice.

It wouldn’t be quite the same if it was the whole team traipsing down the canal, causing a ruckus for everyone else. It wouldn’t be quite the same if it was just him and Thor or just him and Clint. Both of those scenarios just seemed inherently wrong for some reason. It would be okay, of course, but still it wouldn't likely feel like this. And neither of those two or both of them tagging alongside him and Bruce would likely be any better. Steve and Natasha might be a little bit different. They would probably both really appreciate this eclectic ambiance and slow pace, but Tony wasn’t quite sure he’d enjoy it with just one or the other sans Bruce. And the idea of just one of those two tagging along with him and Bruce also seemed wrong. It would be like an unwanted third wheel spoiling an otherwise lovely date – not that this technically was a date, of course, but hypothetically speaking… No, if they were to tag along, they would have to at least tag along together. It would have to be doubles or nothing.

The sound of really good jazz music cut through Tony’s thoughts and he could tell Bruce had the same interest. He narrowed his eyes until a canal side restaurant came into view. There was a live jazz band, lots of tables outside, and even a small area where couples seemed to like to dance on occasion.

“You hungry?” Tony gestured towards the restaurant.

“Yeah, I could definitely eat,” Bruce nodded.

“And it’s not too crowded or-“

“Nope, we’re good here,” Bruce reassured.

And Tony had to admit he was relieved to hear that. So they approached the restaurant and waited to be seated, which was longer than usual since nobody seemed to recognize Tony and since Tony figured Bruce would probably scowl at him the rest of the night if he tried to toss his fame and money around to get seated earlier. But, for once, it seemed okay. They were in no hurry.

“Do you think it would be inappropriate to order the catch of the day considering present company?” Tony asked jokingly, referring to the fish bowl sitting just underneath their feet, once they were seated and looking at their menus.

“Tony, you don’t eat fish,” Bruce replied gently as he perused his own menu.

An incident involving caviar at one of Tony's mother’s weird philanthropic benefits when he was about 5 or 6 had scarred him for life. And, of course, Bruce had learned this the hard way one night when he had prepared fresh salmon for dinner.

“I didn’t say eat it. Just, you know, order it.” Bruce lowered his menu slightly and raised his brow questioningly at him, but Tony could see the twinkle in his eyes that suggested he was smiling in amusement behind the guard of the menu.

“Ok, well, while you’re trying to figure out the moral implications of ordering fish in the company of a pet fish, I think I’m going to have the chef’s salad with crostini."

It was Tony’s turn to raise a curious eyebrow. “I realize this whole atmosphere is highly suggestive of a first date, but you don’t have to eat rabbit food like a teenage girl to impress me.”

“Wha-“ Bruce chortled as his face quirked into an expression somewhere between confused and actually flabbergasted, lowering his menu completely as he did. “The salad,” he pointed discreetly to another table where he’d apparently noticed it, “is huge, first of all. Secondly, it’s loaded with some of my favorite salad ingredients. I-I like salad, okay? And it’s hard to find really good salad near the tower so…”

“Alright, alright, I believe you,” Tony said with a smirk as he folded his menu, placed it down and then held up his hands a little. “But I have to warn you, I’m ordering the biggest burger on the menu so this might have officially turned into a first date. And a cliché one at that.”

Bruce rolled his eyes slightly and then shrugged. “Yeah, well, some of the most cliché first dates are the ones that lead to lasting relationships so I hope you’re ready for the long haul just in case.”

Tony ducked his head, shaking it slightly, as he gave a soft laugh at that notion. However, when he looked back up, Bruce seemed concerned, his eyes narrowed towards something just past Tony’s left shoulder.

“Uh…” Bruce began, but was dumbstruck.

“What is it? Is somebody already hitting on you?” Tony scoffed overdramatically. “Jeez, can’t a guy even get through the first date without somebody trying to steal you from-“ Tony had turned to see what Bruce was so fixated on and his jovial expression immediately fell. At a table over in the corner closest to the band sat Steve and Sam.

They both stared so long and hard that Steve furrowed his brow, the obvious sensation of being watched coming over him, until he turned and noticed them. He looked confused for a moment, but then smiled, nudged Sam who nodded toward them in acknowledgment, and then made his way over to them.

“Hey,” Steve said first, looking back and forth between them in a questioning kind of way. “So, do you two like jazz?”

Tony heard the question, but it filtered through his mind as a covert way of asking if it was something more than just being there to hear the jazz. He wasn’t sure what was more confusing at the moment: Steve and Sam being where they shouldn’t be or Captain America trying to figure out if he and Bruce were there on a date without any hint of humor in his curiosity.

“Hey, Steve,” Bruce spoke before Tony could. “A little surprised to see you here.”

“Oh, yeah, well, Sam has a buddy in the band so we thought we’d stick around and just take a cab back,” Steve answered with a casual shrug.

“I- I meant the mutant situation Clint told us about,” Bruce reiterated, glancing briefly and uncertainly at Tony.

The confusion on Steve's face was immediate and it was all the answer Tony needed. Clint must have simply taken off in his McLaren for the hell of it and then lied about it. He was practically seeing red.

He gritted his teeth. “That lying son of a-“

“Tony, please?” Bruce’s sudden plea snapped him back to the moment and he looked at him strangely and then glanced up at Steve to see the other man was now concerned. “If it's not too much trouble... Can you not do that... right now? Right now, I’m… I was really enjoying this,” Bruce finished, barely audible and looking almost defeated.

Tony felt like Steve had reached over and punched him in the gut. And he almost wished that was the case as he suddenly hated himself for ruining Bruce’s state of mind. The man so rarely let himself enjoy anything. This, this was not what Tony had wanted to do at all. He had been enjoying himself too. And enjoying himself with Bruce, knowing Bruce was enjoying himself... Well, that suddenly seemed a million times more important than Clint driving one of his cars.

“I’m sorry. That was… Let’s just… Try to forget it? I didn’t mean to. I’m enjoying this. You're enjoying this. We can still enjoy this, right?” If he sounded desperate, he didn’t really care enough to try and sound otherwise. Bruce nodded and offered a thin smile, but it was still a pale comparison to his former mood and Tony hoped that former mood wasn't lost completely now.

Steve looked back and forth between them and then craned his neck back in the direction of Sam before looking at the two men in front of him again. “I think I’ve probably ditched Sam long enough so I’ll let you two get back to, uh, enjoying yourselves. I hope I didn’t inadvertently-“

“No, it’s fine. It was just a misunderstanding,” Bruce offered reassuringly. “See you back at the tower.” Steve returned the sentiment before leaving. Bruce then sighed. “You realize what he thought this was, right?”

“Yeah, he's not very subtle. But, hey, we could say the same thing about his intimate jazz date with Sam. After all, we got ditched so we have a reasonable alibi whether or not anyone believes us. But, honestly, I don’t really care.” Tony shrugged. “Barton already thinks we’re having sex in the lab so this seems like a step in a classier direction. But if it bothers you, we'll set him straight later. Does it bother you?”

And if Bruce appeared momentarily stunned by the question, just as the waiter approached their table, Tony didn’t see it.

Chapter Text

Tony stumbled out of his bedroom for the first time that day, which was already well into the second half of it. He trudged down the hall and towards his bar. His head was still far too achy and the only thing that would right it would be a taste of the poison he’d drowned himself in at the party the night before.

He fumbled for a glass and then for a bottle. That was strange. He fumbled for another bottle. He then furrowed his brow and looked more closely. Upon inspection his entire bar was minus its main ingredient. He stood up and looked around frantically, but then he finally noticed the man sitting across the room in one of his high back leather chairs. It was Steve.

“Did you have something to do with this?” Tony ignored his headache and dry throat. He wasn’t going to let those interfere with his indignation. He slowly crossed the space between them to get a closer look at the man who had let himself in to his private floor. “Did you?”

“Yes, Tony. I did,” Steve responded evenly. He then leaned over and grabbed a glass of alcohol sitting on the coffee table and held it out in offer to Tony.

Tony eyed it skeptically, but he needed it too much to be prideful about it. So he took it begrudgingly and grumbled into the adjacent couch. “What makes you think you can just come into my personal apartment without my knowing and then take my stuff?”

“Because that’s what concerned friends do, Tony. I’ll give you back the alcohol once you’re completely sober again if you really want it, but I’m very concerned.”

“Concerned?” Tony practically spat the word. “Please, Steve. Everybody knows I have a tendency to get wasted from time to time. No need to repeal the… well, whatever the hell amendment it was that ended prohibition. Why is this suddenly a problem, hmm?”

“Pointedly?” Steve looked at him with a slight glare. “Because my gut tells me you haven’t really given your taste for alcohol a thought to how it ruins relationships. So I figured maybe we should have a friendly chat about it.”

Tony finished the rest of his drink with a hard swallow and then looked at Steve like he was crazy. He had to be crazy. He had come into his place, stashed his alcohol somewhere, and now he was acting like he was some drunken spouse beater or something. He placed the glass back down on the table with a slight groan.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He asked finally. “I’m not in a relationship. So nobody cares if I get a little sloshed every now and then. Unless you’re volunteering for the position… That’s not what this is, right?” He didn’t bother hiding a slight twinge of disgust as he looked at Steve again.

Steve sighed. “Not me, Tony. I’m talking about Bruce. I realize the two of you may not have decided on anything official yet. It’s none of my business. But since you're both my friends it is a little my business to be concerned should you ever decide to give this thing a real go.”

“What are you…” Tony squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. He was beginning to think this was some drunken hallucination. He might open his eyes and find Steve as nonexistent as a pink elephant. “What are you going on about?” He wracked his brain some more. Bruce? Him? Dating? Oh. “If this is about that thing with the jazz last month, let’s get one thing straight now. We were just two friends hanging out like you and Wilson. Clint Asshole Barton jacked my car and left us stranded there for hours. Had to call one of my drivers to come get us finally.”

“Alright, so call it what you want." Steve shrugged. "But I know what I saw, Tony. And I’m just not convinced there’s no potential threat here if you two ever decide to stop this science tango of yours and try something serious. I don’t want to see Bruce get hurt and I know you don’t really want to hurt him. Him and alcohol-“

“Hey!” Tony became angry at the sudden turn of the conversation. “I know about his history, okay. So you can save your speech for a soapbox somewhere else. I wouldn’t hurt him, got it?”

“Are you sure about that, Tony?” Steve looked at him incredulously and Tony almost wanted to bash his head in, but then his stomach soured at the very grave parallel to Brian Banner that inclination might imply. “I don’t think you would ever raise a hand to Bruce, but that doesn’t mean you can’t hurt him in other ways. You said nobody cares about whether or not you get drunk, but that’s not how I see it.”

“Oh, then by all means, please enlighten me, Lady Liberty,” Tony replied bitterly as he tried to ignore his desire to roll his eyes for his head's sake.

“Well, the way I see it, when somebody puts up with your drunken shit all night long and then practically nurses you back to a semi-functioning state no matter the cost to themselves, that somebody might actually care a little bit about whether or not you get a little sloshed.”

Tony knitted his brows so tightly that his head screamed at him to stop, but he didn’t listen. Forgetting the fact that Steve rarely cussed unless it was important to get a point across, the point itself was more than a little confusing.

“I take it you don’t remember anything about last night or this morning?” Steve asked.

“Um…” Tony brought his hand up to his face and rubbed it a few times over. “I don’t- Jeez, I think… I remember a glass of water, I think. And…” The memories suddenly struck him with a blinding hot fury. “Bruce.”

“Bingo,” Steve confirmed, not hiding the disappointment in his tone. “And do you want to know where he is right now?”

“Yes… No? I- I don’t-“ Tony shook his head repeatedly as he tried to recall other details of the night. He needed to know if he had physically hurt Bruce. He didn’t think so. But putting him through this at all, knowing that Bruce was trying to support him at his lowest regardless of his own past with the effects of alcohol abuse… It was enough to make his head swim all over again.

“He’s in the panic room,” Steve answered and Tony’s stomach clenched. “And he’s been there since he was sure enough you’d be okay without constant supervision. 6 hours ago."

Tony pushed himself up to his feet at the realization that Bruce had been in the panic room they had created for his near incidents for six hours on account of him.

"He asked me to check up on you and told J.A.R.V.I.S. to alert me if your condition changed. That’s why I’m here, Tony. To check up on you.”

“Check up on me!? ” Tony looked at Steve in angry confusion. “God, I’m not the one who’s been in a panic room for six hours! Has anyone checked on Bruce?”

Steve stood calmly. “Of course we have. We’ve been taking turns watching and sitting with him. He hasn’t had an incident. He seemed like he might there at first, but he’s mostly just been despondent. He’s… He’s far away somewhere else right now. I have a feeling it’s probably harder on him since the Hulk hasn’t shown up.”

Tony slid to the floor beside the man cowering against his pulled up knees. He was close enough to feel Bruce’s body go tense at his presence for a brief moment and then relax. He was close enough to listen to the patterns of his breathing and hear the way those breaths finally began to come in a more even manner.

“This is my fault,” Tony sighed, once he was sure Bruce had finally returned from whatever dark and lonely place he’d been. Or, at least enough to hear him.

“It’s not your fault…” Both his tone and his eyes were questioning as he turned slowly to look at him, but Bruce’s mercy did nothing to relieve his conscience. How could it when he could see the brokenness in those sad, dark eyes?

Right now he wasn’t looking at the awe-inspiring Bruce Banner, whose brilliance should have been heralded from the day he was born. He was looking at the terrified little boy whose father tried to beat that brilliance out of him. Tony squeezed his eyes shut at the pain that pierced him at that thought.

“People get drunk…” Bruce was beginning to explain himself and Tony opened his eyes. “It doesn’t make them- I should have just let someone else…”

“Don’t do that, Bruce. Please, don’t do that,” Tony pleaded, not even knowing himself where the urgency came from exactly. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for this. You helped me through that in spite of your problems because for some damn reason the universe seems to think I deserve all kinds of golden spoons in my mouth so it brought me you. And I’d like to send my complaints to the universe because clearly it likes bringing you to people like me who don’t know how to deserve you.”

“Tony…”

“But guess what. I’m Tony Stark and I don’t play by rules so the universe can just keep its last laugh for somebody else because I’m going to be the exception.” Tony waited for the inevitable confusion to cross Bruce’s face before continuing. “Steve took my alcohol away and I’m not going to ask for it back just yet. Eventually. I mean, I can’t promise I’m never going to take another drink again. I wish I could say that. But-“

“I’m not asking you to do that." Bruce seemed stunned to say the least. He even looked a little shaken by the notion that he was responsible for such a sudden and dramatic declaration. "God, Tony, I’m not your keeper or something. I just-“

“You just deserve a better friend who can handle problems and social settings without getting plastered while you stand by to pick up the pieces like the saint you are.”

“I’m not a saint,” Bruce said with a firm shake of his head.

It was another one of those infuriating, self-depreciating shakes of his head. Tony wanted to grab him gently by the back of that same head and… massage every single negative, self-loathing thought from it?

“Fine, but stop thinking you’re such a sinner. Because you’re really not compared to the rest of us, Bruce. And you’ve got more humanity in your little pinky than some of us have in our whole bodies.”

There was silence between them. There was nothing to be said for that. Bruce didn't know how to respond, at least not without the same defeated things he'd said a million times before. He slowly let his legs fall down from his chest and they stayed sitting like this for a good long time. The subject was all but forgotten and the mood began to ease between them. 

“Wait," Bruce finally broke the quiet, genuine disbelief in his tone. "Steve took away your alcohol?”

“Yep. Broke the Cardinal Rule. I’m letting him off with a soft warning because his intentions were good.”

“He cares about you too,” Bruce said with a slight hum at the end.

“Nope. Well, yeah, but he mostly did it because he cares about you, buddy.” Tony saw the bewilderment that beset Bruce at this comment. “He’s apparently a little bit afraid about you getting involved with someone who doesn’t always know when to lay off the liquor.”

Bruce furrowed his brow for a moment and then raised it in sudden awareness. In spite of everything a genuine smile spread across his face and then grew into an earnest chuckle.

“As in… He still thinks…? And so he probably thought I… No wonder he…”

There was absolutely nothing coherent about anything Bruce continued to say between laughs and yet Tony understood everything as though it were perfect English.

And if that made Tony contemplate how perfectly, beautifully suited Bruce is to laughter, only he knew it.

Chapter Text

Bruce shuffled slowly to the men’s showers on board the Helicarrier. It had been a long three days and right now the only thing on his mind was getting clean and letting the water wash away his thoughts for a while. The entire team had come on board in order to help find The Abomination who was maybe working with someone else, it was unclear, in a manic effort to destroy the world or else find Dr. Banner, also unclear. Fury had warned them that the six heroes wouldn’t be enough by themselves and that he would offer air support and backup if they would just come on board and help with the search. Seeing as the team went into immediate protection mode when it came to Blonsky for Bruce’s sake, they easily agreed to the inconvenience of living on board the Helicarrier until such time they could put a stop to Blonsky’s terrorization, or at least assure Bruce's safety.

Bruce sighed just thinking about it. Sometimes he felt like they were a little too good for him. He knew they would put themselves in Blonsky’s way regardless of his being on the team, superheroes and all, but knowing why they were specifically going out of their way to take down The Abomination was a little hard to wrap his mind around. They shouldn’t have to put themselves through more trouble than he was worth. And the fact that they might have even made themselves a specific target because of his association with them… Well, that was a thought he had to squash down more often than he cared to admit.

Shaking his head slightly, he rounded the corner that led to the corridor that held the men’s showers, but was confused when he collided with someone. “Jeez, I am so sorry,” Bruce started, an awkward and self-deprecating apology forming at his lips, but it was forgotten when he blinked a few times and then realized who he had run into.

It was Tony. And not only was it Tony, it was a very naked Tony. He looked him over a few times in confusion and then raised an eyebrow at him.

“Oh hey, Brucey,” Tony said first. “Should have been paying closer attention." Bruce was about to apologize again and Tony must have realized it. "Oh, not you. Me.”

“Did you… Did you, uh, forget anything?” That was probably the dumbest possible way to ask that question, Bruce thought once he had.

He was pretty sure even Tony Stark could be aware of when he’s forgotten clothes. Unless maybe when he was drunk, but he wasn’t currently drunk as far as Bruce could tell. In fact, Tony hadn't been drunk in quite a while now, and Bruce had to ignore the annoying lurch in his stomach that reminded him it was, to some extent, on his account.

“Nope. I always strip down to my birthday suit when I’m trying to get a really good brainstorm going. Circulation and all that,” Tony answered nonchalantly.

Bruce looked at him weirdly for a moment before dryly responding, “Mental note - ask J.A.R.V.I.S. to alert me to whether or not you’re in the middle of brainstorming before I head down to your workshop."

Bruce then pushed past Tony, attempting to appear indifferent. He knew something else was up, but if Tony wanted to be evasive he could do the same.

“I got out of the shower and all my things were gone. Towels too.”

That wasn’t quite what he had been expecting to hear and he turned to look back at Tony in mild disbelief. “So, you think one of the agents made off them? Are you sure?” Suddenly, Bruce wasn’t quite certain he wanted to risk a shower of his own.

“Uh, yeah, I’m pretty sure everything was gone." Tony nodded emphatically. "And maybe one of the agents. Or it could have been one of the team. I have a strict policy that only a select few people on board are allowed in the showers when I am - S.H.I.E.L.D. agents are easily bribable, which is concerning when you stop and think about it..."

"Or they just legitimately don't want to share a locker room with you," Bruce offered with a teasing lilt as he brought the tips of his fingers to his forehead, palm smoothed downward.

"That's illogical and hurtful both," Tony said, a slight wag of his finger, and then shrugged. "So I’m not really sure who it could have been. Or why I didn’t hear them, for that matter. I was in there by myself. Pretty quiet.”

Bruce furrowed his brow, considering it. But then another thought occurred to him. “Ok, but were just going to trek all the way back to the barracks like that?” He let his hand fall questioningly from his head towards Tony, palm up. 

“Oh this?” Tony looked down at his body, carefully noting that Bruce did not follow suit. “Eh, I’m not really shy. I’m pretty sure most of the world has seen me naked on YouTube. I mean, it’s not ideal. But at the moment I have half a mind to strut out onto the bridge and see if I can’t smoke out whoever did this.”

Bruce was pinching the bridge of his nose extra hard and Tony knew some sort of ‘you need to behave yourself’ speech was coming. Tony typically got a kick out of Bruce trying to talk sense into him, particularly in awkward situations. And this was definitely an awkward situation and Bruce was definitely a little flustered.

“3 days, Tony. We’ve been on board 3 days and you’re already walking around the Helicarrier naked. Honestly, we can’t take you anywhere, can we?” Bruce had begun sharply enough, but a humorous tone had taken effect before the end of his patronizing speech.

Tony shrugged, but not without a smile. “I’m a philanthropist. I’m just doing my duty. Sharing what gifts I have to give. Giving everyone a looksie could go down as one of the most charitable things I’ve ever done.”

“Oh my god, no, just… No.” Bruce laughed and shook his head, eyes slightly wide.

Tony decided to fluster the doctor a little bit more because, well, it was a fun hobby. “So what, you don’t think my body is good enough to be a charitable donation?”

Bruce merely closed his eyes and gave an unimpressed shake of his head. “I didn’t say that. And, really? Is Tony Stark actually fishing for compliments about your amazing body?” Bruce asked teasingly. Or was he serious? Tony couldn’t tell for a moment. “But I don’t know if the idea of donating your body to charity sits well with me.”

Tony opened up his mouth to reply to that, but then snapped it shut again when he noticed Bruce was suddenly unbuttoning his shirt. He looked around uncertainly. “Are you… Uh… I’ve gotta say this seems a little sudden and impulsive for you, Doctor.”

“Shut up.” Bruce was all snark as he finished with his buttons and pulled his slightly oversized shirt from his pants. “You’re going to tie my shirt around your waist and limit your charitable donations to the monetary kind, you exhibitionist.”

Tony blinked a few times. Bruce didn’t often get forceful, but when he did, Tony had come to learn that it was because it was the absolute only way he knew how to approach a subject that he was passionate about or if his Hulk-based self-preservation skills were kicking in. He considered this for a few long seconds. Perhaps Bruce thought he was being a good friend by making Tony act reasonable and decent for a change. But there seemed like something else underlying his actions. Did he really strike a nerve with his joke about donating his body… Oh. Was that it?

Bruce had volunteered his own body to science and it had changed him. Was it such a raw nerve that he actually equated the two things? Did he, an otherwise brilliant man, actually think Tony making an ass of himself by strutting around naked was on the same level? Because they obviously weren’t the same; the only thing that would maybe be damaged was his reputation, but he didn’t have much of a good one anyhow. Of course that had slowly begun to change over the past few years, especially in the time since he’d opened his life up to the Avengers. Opened it up to… Did Bruce not want him to lose that progress? Was that what this was?

“Stop standing there like I’m asking you to swim the Channel, Tony,” Bruce spoke again, breaking Tony's thoughts, as he pushed himself out of his sleeves.

“What the actual fuck?” Clint’s voice interrupted them both.

Tony saw the wide eyed fright on Bruce’s face and then turned to look at the stunned archer, his studious gaze a little too studious if Tony were being honest. Maybe he’d like that shirt after all. “Like what you see, Legolas?” Tony settled for obnoxious.

“Yeah, not actually,” Clint answered. “But you guys…” He lowered his voice a little and looked around. “You guys realize there’s cameras all over the halls right? I mean, hey, I get if you’re into the whole voyeurism thing, but let me tell you. Fury didn’t take too well to the last couple that got caught doing this sorta thing out in the open so I’d at least move it to the showers or something.” Clint then casually turned on his heel and left the direction he came.

The entire time, Bruce had his face buried into the shirt bunched in his hand. “I swear, Stark, you get me into the weirdest situations. I couldn’t come up with this stuff if I tried.”

“Keeps life interesting,” Tony said with a broad smile that was promptly answered with the throw of a shirt at his chest.

“Just cover up and go find some clothes. And then bring back my shirt.” Bruce then scrunched his face. “On second thought, I’ll just go back to the barracks and get a different one. Jeez, you don’t even know how to cover yourself properly with a shirt around your waist? You have to tie it on the side.” Bruce promptly snatched the shirt from Tony’s fumbling hands and repositioned it, tying it tightly upon his left hip.

“Something tells me you’ve had a lot of practice with this sort of thing,” Tony said, his voice sounding tighter than it should be even to his own ears.

“You mean learning how to cover myself up when I find myself nude in public places?” Bruce raised an incredulous eyebrow.

“Yeah, right, forgot for a second.”

“You forgot about the fact that I turn into the Hulk in my spare time?”

“Uh, yeah, well, in my defense, it's kind of hard to think about small details like that when being groped by a shirtless man with endless waves of chest hair.” Tony offered a sly grin and waited for the flush and... Yep, there it was, right on cue.

“Come on,” Bruce practically groaned and they began their interesting trek back to the barracks.

“Do I want. to. know?” Nick poured every ounce of exasperation he had into that question and into the one-eyed glare he currently had settled on the two men standing in front of him on the bridge. The rest of the Avengers were gathered as well as… well, most everybody.

There had been an emergency summons to the bridge, a possible hit on Blonsky, no time to spare, no exceptions. Higher ranking S.H.I.E.L.D. agents had shuffled Tony and Bruce to the bridge along with every other lowly agent and scientist on the ship. The hit had been a false alarm, but Bruce almost wished it hadn’t. Hulking out and taking on Blonsky at that moment would have been preferable to the mass realization of his and Tony’s attire that had followed once there wasn’t a more pressing need at hand.

Bruce was at his wit’s end. No amount of ducking his head, trying to squash his blush, or stammering was going to help him with this one. It was one thing to have his teammates jump to whatever conclusions they wanted, but another thing entirely to be under the scrutiny of an entire airship of strangers and suits that he didn’t always take kindly to under normal circumstances.

“Sure, I think you want to know,” Bruce said before he could re-rationalize. “YSome asshole stole Stark’s clothes and all the towels while he was in the shower. I just happened to run into him while he was trying to get back to his room, so gave him my shirt to cover up. Unless everyone here wanted to see Tony Stark in all his glory, then be grateful that I supplied you with an alternative. If you don’t believe me, our conversation about what happened should be on the security footage from the hallway outside the showers. You can have your interns scan the footage for you. I’m sure they’ll get a real kick out of that.”

“Dr. Banner, is this something we need to be concerned about?” Fury looked at him pointedly and Bruce understood his meaning.

“No, no party tricks today.”

“I beg to differ,” Tony interjected. “This man is exceptionally good at tying shirts around waists. That’s pretty much a party trick in my book.”

“I take it back,” Bruce deadpanned. “There’s now the slight risk of an incident.”

“Don’t think I won’t check that security footage,” Fury warned. “There’s rules on board this ship for a reason. And had this been an actual emergency, you two would have been ridiculously unprepared. Well, at least Stark would have. Those are your Hulk pants right?”

“Again, blame that on the asshole who stole Tony’s clothes,” Bruce retorted, ignoring the question.

“So you actually expect me to believe somebody just waltzed into the men’s showers, stole Stark’s clothes and all the towels without anybody noticing? I know my agents are damn good at their jobs, but what kind of invisible ninjas do you think we’ve got up on this ship? We-“ Fury suddenly stopped and narrowed an eye at one particular person, though nobody could figure out quite who because it happened so quickly. “We will discuss this later. For now, you two get back to your damn rooms and change. You’re distracting my crew.” He turned with a disgruntled whoosh!

Bruce turned to leave, Tony following behind him, but then another impulse took over him before he could think it over. “And for the record, Tony and I are not fucking in the lab and we’re not currently seeing each other. So unless that status changes, I’d appreciate it if different conclusions were drawn. Thanks.”

“We’ll keep you posted,” Tony added with a cheeky grin and a wink before they left.

"I can't believe that just happened," Bruce, regaining some of his composure, said once they reached the hall with their barracks.

“Yeah, but shirtless and pissed is a good look for you, Bruce,” Tony replied with a smirk.

“So you mean like the Hulk?” Bruce asked with a raised brow.

“Kinda. Only scarier and hairier.” Tony threw his arm around Bruce’s shoulder casually, but his hand splayed a little further down than usual, something Bruce didn’t miss.

“Are you-“ Bruce nudged his arm off and looked at Tony in unbridled amusement as they stopped in front of his room. “You were trying to cop a feel of my chest hair,” he accused.

“Who me?” Tony flashed a smug grin and Bruce wondered if he was even trying to fake innocence at this point. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

Bruce snorted. “The fact that you’re actually denying it is the giveaway. If you had said hell yeah maybe I’d believe you.”

“Hell yeah.”

“Hm-mm. Too late. Caught you.” Tony pouted a little too melodramatically for it to be funny. Pathetic or silly was a little closer to how it appeared. “God, you’re actually obsessed with my chest hair now aren’t you? You’ve seen it a million times. So like is this your next fixation? Are you going to just keep trying until you conquest it?”

“M'that depends. Which answer will make the conquest happen faster?”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “You’re not making a conquest out of my chest hair.” He keyed in his pass code and slid open his door.

“Just one feel, c'mon. You’ve technically touched my arc reactor so it’s kind of like the same thing. A show you mine, show me yours deal.”

“No, that’s not at all what this is. This is you being neurotic again. And, besides, when I touched your arc reactor it was because the core was fried and you would have died if I hadn’t. I’m not dying because of my chest hair. Now go get dressed.”

“Okay, what if I let you touch my arc reactor now while I’m not dying?”

Bruce let out an exasperated puff of air and turned to look Tony squarely in the eye. “Are you really trying to bargain now? Is it that tantalizing to you? Because, you know, if it is then you’ve just begun a very dangerous game. A game called ‘Bruce is purposely never going to let you touch his chest hair because he knows it’ll drive you mad.’ Do you want to play that game?”

Bruce was well aware of how close they were standing and just how dark he had allowed his tone and features to grow – he always knew when he was tapping into his darker side because it was so connected to the Other Guy. But sometimes there was only one way to deal with Tony when he was in this mood and that was to flip the tables completely and make him falter in his confidence for a brief enough moment to get through to him. The stunned look on Tony’s face let Bruce know that he had at least done something.

“That game needs a snappier name,” Tony ventured cautiously.

Bruce squashed the voice in his head that said this was stupid, that he was being stupid, that this wasn’t his M-O, it was Tony’s and then carefully wrapped his arms around Tony’s waist. “By the way, you’re acting under the assumption that I want to touch your arc reactor as much as you want to touch my chest hair.” Before Tony could even react, Bruce adeptly untied his shirt from Tony’s waist and had it in hand as he disappeared into his room with a, “Go get dressed.”

And if in the shelter of his room Bruce let out a very deep breath and felt something vaguely familiar quiver somewhere inside him, only he knew it.

Chapter Text

“What do you fucking mean, he’s gone?” Tony shouted as he and the rest of the Avengers and some backup S.H.I.E.L.D. agents gathered around in the aftermath of their battle with The Abomination.

He looked at his teammates in disbelief. Nobody could just take the Hulk and Hulk hadn’t run away from the team in… Well, he couldn’t even remember it had been that long. Of course, they hadn’t fought Abomination before now so maybe something had triggered it. But Tony had a sinking feeling in his gut.

“I had visual on him at the edge of the city before those guerilla tanks rolled in,” Clint answered.

“J.A.R.V.I.S. any sign of him?” Tony turned to his AI for a potential answer.

“I am afraid there is no sign of Dr. Banner within at least a 20 mile radius. Shall I expand my search parameter, sir?”

Fierce indignation shot through Tony’s veins. His faceplate closed with a clank and he quickly flew back up to the Helicarrier where Blonsky had already been transported while they had worked on subduing the guerilla troops and protecting the citizens of the city. He ignored J.A.R.V.I.S.' question and didn't care about the rest of his team badgering him via the comms to figure out what was happening and where he was going. 

Once on board, Tony made his way to the detainment center, ignoring the many S.H.I.E.L.D. agents that tried to stop him. “Where is he!?” He shouted.

Fury turned and looked at him in with a scowl, but Tony wasn't here to argue. “Stark, what do you think you’re doing? You’re interrupting an official interrogation."

“I said where the hell is he!? ” Tony was practically growling now as he banged a gauntleted hand against the glass of the cell.

Abomination only laughed, long and cruel, causing Fury to look angrily from Tony back to the monstrosity with a sudden suspicion.

“Somebody had better get me up to speed,” Fury commanded.

“Banner-” Tony choked for a moment, his chest clenching. “Banner’s gone. And I think this bastard knows where!” He stared head on at the villain.

“Well, then,” Fury turned his own fury against Abomination, “I suggest if you know what's good for you, you'll answer this man's question.”

“I don’t know where he is,” Abomination spat. “If I did, I’d be there instead of here." He scoffed, a gravely scoff. "Trust Ross to-”

“Ross!? ” Tony felt the acid on his own tongue as he said the name. His breathing grew heavy as his anger consumed him. “You’ve got 5 seconds to tell me what this is all about, Blonsky or else I’m going to find out for myself if anything can kill you.” He raised his gauntlet toward the glass, not caring that it was nearly indestructible.

“Stark! Stand down,” Fury barked.

“2 seconds,” Tony pressed on.

Abomination only gave him a thin, tight lipped, sneer of a smile, his eyes mocking. It was enough to make Tony snap. He began blasting his repulsors at the glass, no intention of stopping until it was a shattered mess and he could get to the beast himself. Fury’s continued shouts to stand down were lost on him as he took out his rage. Bruce was gone. Ross had him. Getting him back before it was too late was all that mattered and so help him he would get this monster to cooperate.

“Tony, stand down!” Steve shouted behind him, the others having followed behind quickly in the Quinjet. 

“Not until he tells us where Ross is,” Tony refused with an even tone, continuing with a steady fire.

“I don’t know where the bastard is,” Abomination snarled.

“He probably doesn’t, Tony,” Clint intervened. “This smells of Ross just playing Blonsky to get his hands on the doc. He wouldn’t know where Ross is because that wasn’t part of the plan. Ross could be anywhere by now depending on when he got to him.”

“Tony, listen to Clint,” Natasha said in a calm voice, hurrying to his side and firmly taking hold of his outstretched arm as he fired. Tony glared down at her. “If Ross has Bruce, then we’re just wasting time here. Between S.H.I.E.L.D. and J.A.R.V.I.S. we can track them down, but you’ve got to stop this. This isn’t going to help him. This isn’t going to bring him back to you, Tony.”

Tony’s arm fell immediately. Shock rippled through him as his stomach lurched. His faceplate opened and he looked down at Natasha with a furrowed brow. She was looking up at him with that steady gaze of hers. Steady and…knowing. She knew... What did she know? His thoughts raced and his eyes studied hers as something inside screamed that this was something he should know too. 

Bruce was gone.

His heart clenched tighter.

Ross had taken him.

His anger boiled hotter.

Ross had taken something that didn't belong to him.

Ross had taken his-

His eyes widened in realization.

His?

His... Bruce?

“J.A.R.V.I.S., run satellite scans for General Ross and Dr. Banner!” Tony blurted frantically as the final wave of realization hit him with all the force of a tsunami and then looked down to see the thin smile on Natasha’s face.

He turned and saw his other teammates looking at him, each one the perfect picture of pity and sympathy. They all had known. He was a damn idiot. But did Bruce know? Did Bruce even feel the same?

No, thinking about that could wait. It had to. The only thing that mattered was focusing on finding Ross and getting Bruce back safely.

Bruce blinked open his eyes, groaning at the piercing light. Where was he? He glanced around briefly, flashes of tropical green. A clearing in the jungle? He didn’t have time to process his surroundings further before noticing the smug, leering man standing only a few feet away. His eyes widened and he suddenly registered that he was being restrained to a chair.

General Ross was standing before him, a few of his soldiers on either side and probably many more in the surrounding jungle. He looked like a man who had finally won.

“Ross!” Bruce growled, his voice thick and dry.

Bruce waited for the transformation to come, but it didn’t. He then tried to trigger it himself, but that did nothing either. There wasn’t even a rumble.

“Oh, there’s no use trying, Banner,” General Ross said with what sounded like every ounce of condescension he could muster. “That little device on the back of your neck is a gamma dampener. And I’m the one holding the remote.” He gave a self-satisfied chuckle as he waved a small remote just where Bruce could see it before sticking it into his pocket.

Bruce eyed the remote with narrow eyes as it disappeared into Ross' pocket and then moved to fix a disbelieving gaze on the General. “You’ve managed to miniaturize the effects of gamma quarantine? That’s not-”

“Possible? Clearly, you’re mistaken, Doctor.”

Bruce furrowed his brow even further. Miniaturized gamma quarantine? It was possible? Could it...

No, there wasn’t time for that. He had to figure out a way to get away from Ross before he could even begin to consider the implications of a stable, miniaturized gamma dampener. And the chances of getting away from Ross were slim-to-none. Not without help. Not without the others.

Then it struck him! What about the others? They had been on the verge of battle with Blonsky when he had transformed. Ross had to have gotten to him at some point during the battle. But how? And what had become of the others in the process?

His mind raced, trying to dig up the Hulk’s memories, but it was no use.

His heart sank.

Was the team okay?

Was T-

Was Tony okay!?

His chest tightened at the thought of what might have become of the engineer and his head fell as the weight of realization struck him.

How could he be such an idiot?

It had been staring him in the damn face for ages.  

And now… His worry, his fear, his need to get out of this place, his need to find the others…

It was all for Tony. He had to make sure Tony was safe!

As his thoughts and realizations clamored inside his head and wreaked havoc on his heart and stomach as well, Bruce suddenly noticed the metal cart with needles that Ross had prepared. His eyes widened and he was brought back to the moment. General Ross had never just wanted him secured and away from being a threat, as he always claimed to the media and his cohorts. It was his blood Ross was after. 

“I could have done this before,” Ross’s tone was haughty, “but I wanted to see your face when I finally got what I’ve been after all these years.”

Suddenly, an arrow landed a few feet behind Ross, a slight ticking noise as the head blinked red, and knowing what was about to come, Bruce braced himself for the explosion. It wasn’t close enough to kill the General, but enough to throw him and his men to the ground.

Bruce then felt a quick, cool breeze and heard the distinct, familiar sound of harsh-landing metal. He opened his eyes to see Tony standing between him and Ross, who was scrabbling to his feet angrily. He watched with wide eyes and wonder as Tony pulled the General up by his collar until he was standing again, although he could see that Tony wasn’t truly choking the man. For that he was grateful in spite of everything.

“It’s about time you learn Tony Stark’s Cardinal Rule, General Ross.” Tony's tinny voice was melodious and reassuring to the confined man.

Tony let go of General Ross harshly and he stumbled back a few feet. He looked around cautiously and then leered at Tony, ever smug.

“And what’s that, Mr. Stark?” His voice betrayed his crumbling confidence. “Never do the dirty work you can pay others to do for you while you reap the reward?”

It was a low blow. Low enough that Bruce felt his own deep rage bristle and burn. If his rage could break the constraints of the dampener, Hulk would feed on that rage in a heartbeat and there would be no hope for Ross - that he was sure of.

Tony nonchalantly mimicked the sound of a buzzer indicating an incorrect answer. “Oh, no, sorry. The correct answer is,” he raised one of his hands threateningly towards Ross, who was now more obviously terror stricken as he charged his gauntlet. “Don’t. Take. My. Stuff.”

Tony jerked his arm and shot away at nothing. Before the fearful Ross could process what hadn’t happened to him, let alone run, the other Avengers had already formed a flank. His hands were confined and he was dragged away by Steve to nearby, and strategically hidden, S.H.I.E.L.D. custody while Clint, Natasha, and Thor made quick work of the soldiers, some fleeing and some fighting.

Tony turned back to Bruce, opening his faceplate to meet those astonished, dark eyes with his own. He then hurried to help him from the constraints to the chair, noticing the small object on the back of his neck as he did.

“What’s this?” He forcefully yanked the object off before he could process Bruce’s warning not to.

Bruce cracked open an eyelid, the light piercing his eyes more than it usually did. His hand flew to his head and he rubbed at it before braving both eyes. He was in the… panic room? How did he get here? He distinctly remembered being held captive by General Ross. Then Tony…

“Tony...” The word escaped his lips in a hoarse murmur before he could think twice.

“Right here, Bruce.”

Tony’s voice startled him and Bruce shot upright and turned his neck, his muscles screaming at him and causing him to wince. Tony was sitting in a chair he must have brought in for the wait. Bruce looked around at his surroundings again, still not sure how he had gotten there. His mind was blanker than usual. It felt like he had been asleep for ages. But at least he was wearing pants. No matter how long he had the Hulk-proof pants, he was always immediately grateful for them.

Tony watched him. Bruce's eyes scanning the room. Calculating. Always trying to make sense of what had happened after an incident. And there was that quick glance at his pants that had become a habit, a knee jerk response. Tony’s lips quirked slightly up at that little reaction before straightening again. He was back. 

“And right now I’m glad you’re here,” Tony admitted with a sigh. “I was starting to worry you weren’t coming back to us.” To me.

“How long was I gone?” Bruce asked with confusion in his squinted eyes.

“Uh, about 46 hours I think it was,” Tony answered, scratching the back of his neck for a moment. “And while I love the Big Green Galoot, I think it would seriously hamper things if he was the only one around. I mean, I couldn’t really do science at 3 a.m. with him. He doesn’t really get the whole bantering thing. And making out with him might be a little bit difficult.”

Bruce’s eyes widened and he felt his stomach… Well, there was no real way else to describe it. It did a damn somersault. “No, no, that would be a horrible idea. Don’t... Don’t ever try that.” Bruce attempted wit, but now that he knew how he felt, Tony’s tendency to weave a layer of innuendo into just about every conversation would be awkward. And probably painful.

“So, do you know why Hulk wouldn’t let go? He usually tires out faster than that.”

Bruce furrowed his brow as he thought back to the moments right before the incident. “Oh, right. Uh, not sure if this is exactly it, but my guess would be it was because Ross had me under the effects of gamma quarantine.”

Tony was just as stunned as he had been. “Wait, so like a miniaturized dampener? Is that what I pulled off your neck?”

“Oh, you did do that, didn’t you?” Bruce nodded, remembering. “Yeah, I have no idea how, but he managed it. So my guess is Hulk was so desperate to escape, maybe he was afraid to go back. It- It would explain my headache, that’s for sure. Almost two days of trying to regain control…” He winced as if to accentuate the point.

“Yeah, must be fantastic. Like a hangover without the party.” Tony sighed again and looked hard at him.

Bruce got the sinking feeling that something was different between them, but he wasn’t sure. Of course, it could be just his projection. He decided to ignore that for the time being, instead standing to his feet so he could go find a shirt. Strange that Tony hadn't brought one already, but this was a bit unusual in the first place. He had never been brought back to the panic room to complete a transformation back from Hulk. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to ask how the others had wrangled Hulk into the panic room for him to transform in the first place…or how they even got him through some of the halls.

Tony interrupted his thoughts as he stood to his feet as well. “But, hey, you’re back now!" He sounded off... It sounded forced? Or anxious? “So we can get started on that list of things only Bruce Banner can accommodate. Science, bantering, making out. Preferably in that order. Or reverse. Reverse works too. You know what, strike that. Most definitely in reverse order.”

Bruce tried to squash his damning blush and changed the subject. “What happened… What happened to Ross?”

“Turns out there’s bullets not even General Ross can dodge. Immediately anyway. And one of those is helping a gamma criminal escape and then manipulating him and illegal guerilla troops to draw out someone currently protected by the World Security Council. Attempting to perform shady blood transfusions without a medical license also seems to be a big no-no. So he's taking a little vacation in a nicely guarded detention center while Congress and the WSC complete their joint investigation," Tony explained. 

Bruce licked his dry lips, a flicker of hope threatening to settle somewhere inside. “I know General Ross. It won’t last. He’ll figure out a way to get out of this clean. And then-"

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Tony cut him off. “He broke Tony Stark’s Cardinal Rule, so my gut tells me this time they’re gonna throw the book at him. That and Blonsky is squawking like an angry emu.”

“Heh. No honor among villains, I gue-" Bruce’s train of thought died in his throat.

 Don’t. Take. My. Stuff.

His eyes narrowed as they darted here and there, never anywhere in particular. Finally he glanced at Tony, meeting with a broad smile.

“I was wondering when you’d remember. Sometimes you’re a little slow on the uptake for a genius. Then again, I guess that kind of makes me a kettle calling the pot black," Tony gabbled.

Bruce stared at him in disbelief. “You told Ross not to take your stuff.”

“Has a nice ring to it, right?”

Bruce wasn’t quite sure where this was going and he didn’t want to let his feelings get carried away with him. But even he had to admit that Tony had a somewhat wanton look as he took a few steps closer.

“It’s- It’s a little possessive maybe.”

Tony shrugged. “I kinda had the feeling it was romantic.”

Bruce blinked. “Mmm, okay, but kinda cheesy.”

“Fair enough. But I’m exceptionally good at being cheesy, so you’ll have to get used to it.” He was even closer now.

“Are you implying there will be more romantic cheesiness to come?” Bruce raised one eyebrow.

“How many times do I have to suggest we make out before you get the point? Did that gamma dampener scramble your deductive reasoning?”

Bruce’s eyes widened. “Oh, oh, wait… You? You really… I thought-"

“Yeah, I know,” Tony answered with a sigh. “I'm not much of a words man when it comes to this kind of stuff. But there it is. On the table.”

There were a few beats of silence as Tony expected the worst and Bruce simply tried to process the revelation.

Bruce then groaned a little overdramatically. “I really wish we would have figured this out before I declared to the entire Helicarrier that we weren’t an item.”

Any insecurity Tony had, disappeared immediately and his smile returned twofold. “Or fucking in the lab. Those were your exact words.” He pointed and Bruce groaned again. “But I don’t think they really believed you anyway if it’s any consolation.”

“It’s, it’s really not, no,” Bruce replied with a thin smile, before it became something a little more like a frown. “Oh god, they all knew.”

“Seems that way, yeah." Tony nodded. He scratched his cheek thoughtfully. "I vaguely recall Steve referring to it as a science tango. And I have half a mind to think Clint’s been gunning for us to get together for a while now. I have a theory he even stranded us that one time on purpose. The details are a little sketchy.”

Bruce sighed in defeat. But as he met Tony’s sparkling gaze again, he figured he would get over it easily enough. “I guess we were pretty obvious.”

“Only wish it had been obvious to us. Sooner.”

“Well, in our defense, focal length greatly affects distortion of v–mmph.”

Tony’s lips brought his scientific reasoning to a pleasantly abrupt end. The kiss danced somewhere between chaste and needy. It was just enough to prove they had wanted this for some time, whether they had even realized it, and just not enough so as to leave them wanting more when their lips parted again.

“Yep, definitely wish we’d figured this out sooner,” Bruce agreed to Tony’s previous point.

Tony responded with a husky chuckle as he leaned his forehead against Bruce’s and his hand fell from Bruce’s neck to rest against his chest. “Exactly. So let's not waste anymore time. Science later, make out now. We can banter when we come up for air.”

Tony then moved his lips back to Bruce’s, barely brushing before Bruce pulled away slightly. Tony made a slightly strangled noise in the back of his throat at the aversion. 

“Wait...” Bruce tilted his head just a fraction. “This wasn’t an elaborate scheme to conquest my chest hair, right? Because I- I really want this, Tony.”

Tony frowned slightly at the suspicion, but it was short lived as he finally registered the chest hair spread just beneath his fingers and smiled. “Nope. I want this. But, can't lie, the chest hair is a nice token prize.” His smile then widened to something just short of cheeky, with a good hint of goofy earnest.

“You’re impossible,” Bruce responded in mock exasperation.

“Yep. And you’re mine.” Tony’s smile then broadened in full, brightening his face until it was almost too much to look at.

“Possessive,” Bruce repeated, but then pulled Tony back in for a hungry kiss that proved two could play that game.

And if somewhere Clint was informing the others of the status change, fist bumping Natasha while Steve and Thor shared pleased smiles, neither scientist cared.

Chapter Text

It was a curious thing. Tony had known of course that Bruce was a strict adherer to rules, Tony Stark's Cardinal Rule being no exception. But he had greatly assumed he would adapt eventually and so hadn’t paid much attention. When they had finally become a couple, he had assumed even further that what was his would be Bruce’s and what was Bruce’s would be his – well, within reason of course (they always greatly respected each other’s professional endeavors and kept unwanted meddling to a minimum). Naturally, Tony had no problem with that notion as he would make himself at home in Bruce’s personal apartment, not hesitate to throw on a pair of Bruce’s clothes, or anything else. But eventually Tony started to pay attention again when he began to get the feeling that Bruce wasn’t as comfortable with reciprocating.

At first, Tony thought it might be Bruce’s reserved nature or maybe even a little worry about going moving too quickly in the relationship. After all, the man still hadn’t moved into Tony’s apartment officially in spite of practically residing there, and in spite of being together for several amazing months, much to Tony's great frustration. However, Tony began to notice that Bruce’s hesitance to take or use anything of his was, well, borderline ridiculous and he began to think it wasn’t just hesitance, but outright refusal.

When it dawned on him one night that Bruce even brought his own ingredients to make dinner whenever he cooked in the small kitchen in Tony's apartment, as opposed to his own or in the larger communal one where he also often cooked, Tony just about lost it and was determined to get to the bottom of Bruce’s behavior. He wanted to figure this out once and for all. And if a little part of him was worried it was because Bruce was no longer (or ever) as invested in their relationship as he was… Well, who would blame him, right? He wanted Bruce. He wanted Bruce more than he had ever thought he was capable of wanting a person. So he came up with the perfect plan to figure out what was going on. And then an even more perfect, completely impulsive, plan hatched in his mind after his thoughts ran their natural course to how much he wanted Bruce.

He waited in the communal kitchen, casually reading a Starkpad at the long table. Although, the casual part was more of a façade. He was keenly aware of everything going on around him. Thor and Clint were playing some video game or another in the attached communal lounge. Steve and Sam, who had become all but a permanent fixture at the tower since being invited to become an official Avenger, were deep in some discussion about Miles Davis. And Natasha… He was pretty sure Natasha, though reading a magazine, was studying him like an open book.

“Back with the ingredients,” Bruce said with a smile as he reentered the kitchen with a reusable shopping bag filled with some food items and Tony snapped his head up quickly, returning the smile. Although Bruce usually did use the ingredients available in the communal kitchen, he had already bought what he needed for a recipe he was excited to share with the team. “You’re going to love this. Aunt Susan gave me the recipe... a long time ago. It was definitely one of my favorites before...”

“Sounds like a special occasion then,” Tony replied quickly, hoping to push any negative thoughts from Bruce's mind, and abandoned his seat to help him unload the bag. “And if it’s a special occasion, I was thinking maybe you can make brownies while you’re at it?” He gave Bruce his best puppy dog face.

Bruce tensed up slightly, giving Tony an apologetic frown. “Uh, I don’t have the ingredients for brownies. And I don't think we have enough flour down here for them either.” 

“No biggie,” Tony said with an airy wave. “I ran upstairs real quick and raided my kitchen.” Tony moved to one of the cabinets and pulled out his own bag of ingredients. He could feel Natasha’s eyes on him extra hard now. “So you can use my stuff.” He accentuated his point by setting it firmly on the kitchen island.

Bruce eyed the bag cautiously. “Oh, um, are you sure? I mean, this recipe that I’m already making takes a while to get started. I mean, I guess I could, but maybe you should try or ask..." He glanced over to the lounge. "Steve or Sam?”

The two looked over at the mention of their names and now there were three sets of eyes on the kitchen. Tony looked over at the men and shook his head to let them know they weren’t wanted. He then turned a narrowed gaze back on Bruce.

“One, I think you might actually have a death wish if you’re suggesting I make brownies. Two, I don’t want somebody else’s brownies. I want yours. Because your brownies make me want to drag you to my room and f-"

“Okay, okay,” Bruce said, holding up his hands and shrugging his head towards the rest of the team.

“Prude,” Tony said with an indignant huff and followed it with a smile and quick peck to Bruce’s lips. “So brownies then?”

Tony watched as Bruce immediately became uncertain again, staring at the bag like it was a three headed monster. “I, I don’t know…”

Tony sighed. This was the final proof that it wasn’t in his mind. Bruce shouldn’t have to have an existential crisis over whether or not to bake brownies just because the ingredients weren’t supplied by him.

“Okay, then. Here’s something I don’t know – and maybe you can enlighten me, hmm,” Tony said with a sharper tongue than he really wanted to use, but he was genuinely upset. “How come you won’t use my ingredients to make the damn brownies?”

Bruce immediately shifted to a guilty stance, self-deprecation in his every feature. “I just- They’re yours and- You shouldn’t have to…”

“Do you even hear yourself right now, Bruce?” Tony asked, not caring that he could feel several eyes on him now. “It's food. But it’s not just the ingredients. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. You actively avoid taking anything that belongs to me and while I’m sure you’re that way with others, that shouldn’t really apply to us, right? I mean, would it kill you to throw on one of my shirts because you think, 'wow I really want something that reminds me of Tony right now'? God, do you know how good that would make me feel? What’s going on, Bruce? Do you- Do you just not want-"

Now that it was to the point, Tony couldn’t bring himself to ask the question. Bruce was looking at him slightly slack jawed. It was almost comical. Almost.

“Wait, are you asking me if I don’t want you? Because I don’t want to use your stuff?” Bruce used his deductive reasoning to put together the point Tony couldn’t.

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

“I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to make you think…” Bruce stammered at the sudden tension between them. “I want you, Tony. More every single day, if you must know.”

“Well, it helps,” Tony interjected, his heart unclenching like an inner sigh of relief.

“But it also scares me a little. And taking stuff from you… Using your stuff... It’s just… It’s not easy, okay? It’s not something I can do.”

“But you can,” Tony countered.

“No, I actually can’t.”

“Yes, you actually can.” Tony refused to back down on this. “Seriously, Bruce, just tell me why? Let’s get to the bottom of this. Because, hell, you already take my breath away. I’d kind of like it if you got with the program and took everything else while you’re at it.”

“Aww,” Clint drawled from the lounge, suddenly reminding Bruce that they weren’t alone if the flicker of panic in his eyes was any indication.

“Ignore them,” Tony said calmly. “Right now, it’s just you and me. Let’s figure this out. Why? Why can’t you feel free to take my stuff like you have a right to it? Do you even know? Is it a tick? Is it-“

“I don’t have a right,” Bruce blurted and Tony blinked.

“What part of my open invitation to act like my significant other don’t you quite grasp?” Tony asked, but could see the fading look on Bruce’s face and tried another angle. “Did you do this with Betty? It’s okay, be honest. I won’t be jealous. At least not a lot,” he added with a small smirk.

Bruce wrinkled his nose as he considered it. “More or less,” he answered uneasily, giving a slight nod. “I just… I don’t…”

“Don’t what? ” Tony prodded gently, moving to wrap both of his hands around the very tops of Bruce’s arms. “It’s on the tip of your tongue. It’s right there.”

“I don’t…” Bruce squeezed shut his eyes. “I don’t deserve to.”

Tony’s stomach plummeted. Of course. He should have known from the start and now he felt incredibly unperceptive and all around inadequate as Bruce’s lover, but it wouldn’t work to dwell on that at the moment – and the feeling would probably pass on its own thanks to his ego. At the moment all that mattered was making the man he loved realize just how wrong he was. He deserved the world, let alone the right to share simple domestic odds and ends and food supplies.

Tony moved one of his hands higher so that it rested where the base of Bruce's neck met his shoulder, causing him to meet his gaze. “Hey, I know I can’t open up that brilliant head of yours and tinker with it until you forget all this internalized crap about not deserving anything, but I can help you through this. Because I want you to be able to enjoy all the perks of being in a relationship.”

“That goes for friendships too, doc,” Clint called from the lounge. “Friendships include taking each other’s stuff and sharing.”

“Not priceless sports cars though, Barton,” Tony called back. It had become a longstanding joke between them.

“Especially priceless sports cars, Stark.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Whatever. The point is, I think you deserve just about anything you want and like if you were to suddenly say the hell with it and start stealing stuff to make up for years of this repressive nonsense, I’d be right there with you through it all. Dibs on Clyde though. Not sure I look like a Bonnie.”

“Tony, I know you mean well. I appreciate it, but I-"

“Don’t say you can’t. That's a word that literally should not be in any genius's vocabulary. And you won’t know that for sure if you don’t even try, Bruce. One step at a time at your own pace, obviously, but you have to try. And look at it this way if it helps - like Clint said, it’s about sharing. Not just taking. Our relationship, it comes with a perks package. I want to share with you. I mean, jeez, I’ve always wanted to share with you since day one on the Helicarrier, before I even had a second thought about you in the sheets." 

"Second thought?" Bruce asked archly.

"Yeah, there was one brief moment when I was shaking your hand, I may have wanted to make a scene of it right then and there, but that's not the point here so don't change the subject,” he chastised playfully.

There was silence for a moment and Tony studied Bruce carefully. He wanted to get through to him. But at the same time, he had come to realize (finally) that if he pressed any point too hard, it might overwhelm Bruce and push him away entirely (maybe even thousands of miles away if any number of Bruce's internalized fears came out to play) and that was definitely not something he wanted. With Bruce, he was learning to find the balance between his natural incessance and patience.

“I guess…” Bruce started hesitantly. “I guess I just keep thinking I’ll wake up and this will all be gone.” He gave a pained expression and Tony felt it too. “It’s just easier not to get too caught up in it. It’s easier not to take or to share too much. It’s easier to remind myself that I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve my own lab, or my own floor, or friends who aren't afraid of the Other Guy. I... I definitely don’t deserve you.” He hitched a shoulder.

Tony fought the urge to snap at that and argue until Bruce got the point. It cut through him like a knife, but he sighed and simply said, “None of that is true. This is real and you have me so there’s no use arguing about it.” He leaned in and kissed him, reassuringly. “So, seriously. One step at a time. You never know what you’ll miss out on if you don’t try,” he added with a smile and then moved back to the table to give Bruce some space.

The others followed suit, returning to their conversations and games and magazine reading/Tony-watching. As for Bruce, he set about getting dinner ready. Every now and then he would glance at the bag of brownie ingredients and Tony had to bite down a smile so not to make him feel uncomfortable should Bruce notice. At last there was a sigh and Tony knew that sigh and so the smile came anyway. Bruce fiddled with a few timers and heat settings and then turned to the bag on the island.

“Get me the mixer out if you could and… I think you forgot eggs, Tony.” Bruce gave him an exasperated, but semi-amused smile.

“Uh, no, I just… We have eggs down here,” Tony fumbled. Yeah, he had forgotten.

He set about getting the mixer, but kept glancing back at Bruce as he did, the latter man carefully pulling out one ingredient after another, setting them on the island. Upon one of those glances he met with Natasha’s questioning gaze, which he then quickly averted by opening the refrigerator door to look for the eggs next.

“What the hell?” Bruce muttered under his breath and Tony’s back stiffened. He slowly shut the door again, abandoning the eggs, and glanced over his shoulder, gauging Bruce’s reaction to the unexpected item. First confusion, then widened eyes.

“What the hell?! ” There was a slight tinge of horror in Bruce’s tone that made Tony’s heart sink like a rock and the rest of the team rush to the scene in concern. Bruce was studying the small thing in his hand like it was some alien object that might be dangerous. "Uh, Tony? ”

Tony turned around completely, smiling as best as he could in light of the now very real possibility that Bruce wouldn’t be interested. “What? Is that not one of the ingredients in brownies?” He asked with a slow, innocent shrug.

Bruce opened the ring box and stared agape. There on the cushion was a smooth black ring band with a single sapphire in the middle, encircled in a white gold bezel. “Um, not unless I’ve been reading the recipe wrong all these years,” Bruce deadpanned, but then looked up at him in renewed shock. “Seriously, Tony what… What is this?”

“This is better than a Friends marathon, that’s what this is,” Clint murmured before being ribbed by Natasha, the former gasping a little at the lack of gentility in the act.

Tony shot a hesitant glance at the team and then met Bruce's confused, fixed gaze. “It’s uh- It’s like I said. Perks package. I’ve got all kinds of stuff for the taking.”

“Matrimony is part of the perks package?” Bruce sounded too skeptical and Tony was losing control of his calm façade quickly.

“I, uh,” Tony stammered slightly and then let out a deep breath. “Let’s start over.” He took a few steps closer towards the still-baffled man and willed himself to try and remember all of the fancy words he had been planning for the moment. Of course, most of those words were some form or another of "I" but here went nothing...

“I want you forever, Bruce. I’m possessive and clingy as hell. I’m neurotic. My list of past indiscretions could fill an encyclopedia Britannica set. My sleeping habits suck. Sometimes I still drink a little more than I should. I’m spoiled. I like the sound of my own voice. I’m basically the epitome of what it means to be a dick, but I like to think I come in an awesome, shiny, rich package to help make up for that.

And I want to be all of those things with you from here on out. I know it’s asking a lot from you, but that reminds me, selfish is also on that list. I’m selfish and I selfishly want you to take everything. Take half of Stark Industries, take my ten houses, take my boat, my plane, my bed, my clothes when you feel like it, my time, my energy, my temperature when I’m sick just for the fun of it… Take me.

But... if you don’t want any of that other stuff, fine, we’ll figure something else out. If you could just at least take one thing of mine, I promise I will never bug you about the other stuff again - although I have to warn you, I may slip up on that promise from time to time, sorry.  But just… Take my hand in marriage. It’s yours, Bruce. All yours if you want it. That's all I'm asking. Please, take it.”

Bruce stared long and hard at the ring still in one hand and rubbed his lips in contemplation with his other. “No,” he finally whispered, glancing tentatively up at Tony.

“No?” Tony was gutted and his face practically broke. There were audible gasps from the rest of the Avengers, save Natasha. “Oh... Uh, okay. Noted.”

“No, I will not take only your hand, Tony,” Bruce elaborated and the 180 degree change in the billionaire was almost humorous. The physicist took a deep breath before continuing, because never in his life had he expected he would be the one being proposed to - let alone by a man like Tony Stark.

“It’s all or nothing with you. It always will be. That’s how it should be and I should have realized that sooner. I- I still don’t know if I believe I deserve it, but- If you want to share your entire life with me then I do know I want to try. God, do I want to try. I never even imagined anything like this could be my life in the first place. Certainly not when I was just trying to get by day to... But I’m in too deep now to ever make it back to shore. And I don’t want to. I just want you, Tony. I... I want us. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Tony and Bruce immediately found each other’s embrace, all but unaware of the congratulations and cheers from their team. Tony didn't want to let go for fear Bruce would change his mind and Bruce, understanding, indulged (happily) in the peppered kisses and closeness until a timer behind him reminded them of the meal. Tony started to protest, insisting on a celebratory meal out or ordered in, but Bruce reminded him of how much he wanted to share the recipe with them - even more so now - and silenced any further protests by slipping on the ring. It was strange, putting on an engagement ring, but Bruce settled quickly that it was a decidedly good strange. And other people's idea of normal would never really be suited to any of the Avengers anyhow. 

When Bruce finally returned to the (now celebration) dinner and dessert preparation, aided gladly by Tony who really didn’t know half of what he was doing yet did the very little things that Bruce risked delegating to him just the same, discussion of wedding plans were exuberantly begun upon – with no likelihood of any of it being remembered when the appropriate time and day to actually discuss wedding plans finally came. Tony happily did most of the talking on the topic with the team, Bruce mostly offering amused shakes of his heads or warning frowns here and there as he focused on the meal.

At one point, Tony took a quick break from the haphazard wedding planning to insist that they move Bruce’s stuff into his apartment first thing in the morning and offer Sam the new vacancy all in one breath. And if Bruce only half-realized he had agreed to the new living arrangement as he stared down absentmindedly at his ring, an obvious reflection of the man who had given it to him, it was because there were other voices, past voices, echoing in his ears.

“Saved it for what?”

“I guess we’ll find out."

He was sure that neither one of them had ever expected this to be the answer to that riddle, but he was more than okay with the surprise.