Bruce can be dense, sometimes purposefully dense, about some things, but there comes a time when his genius kicks in and goes really? Is this the second time Tony's made reference to them having sex? And he's obligated to tell the truth right now? The insecure part of Bruce is hesitating, and the genius half is throwing up its hands and stalking away. More or less. Bruce has an interesting relationship with the components of his mind.
"I'll make a note of that," and also to be concerned with the fate of Tony's eye, maybe he should get him some kind of ice pack for it? But he can't just get up and leave right now, not when there's the other thing Tony said
( ... )
Thank God for the question. "No, we're not having sex. Disappointing." What? Why did he have to add that in? That wasn't asked. No one needed to know how he felt about it. Hell. Even Tony didn't!
He was done with the hand on his back. He wanted to be done with it at least. Tony wished that they could focus on his eye-- It didn't look like it though.
His little smidge of curiosity is going to kill him.
Bruce blinks at him for a second, and then clears his throat, sitting back and pulling his hand away.
"Do you have any Advil in here? It might help with the inflammation."
Tony's disappointed they're not having sex. Well, cool, Bruce is too, but just because they agree doesn't mean that they can do anything about that problem. On the contrary, it was better when Bruce was just mindlessly fantasizing about Tony; knowing that it could happen, but it can't, just makes everything worse.
Good. Change of subject. He's beyond thrilled for that. "I have something better than Advil." Tony's medicine cabinet is stocked. It's a good thing his addiction runs strictly liquid and psychological. Tony's never been into harder drugs.
Not that he has to be, of course. The alcohol is doing it's job already.
"It doesn't hurt. It just stings a little. The tingling in my nostril has gone away, though. So that's lucky. Does my eye look swollen or just red?"
Bruce slips right into doctor mode. The convenient thing about doctor mode is that it's safe; he's acting a part, not being himself.
"A little of both. It looks mostly irritated; can't say yet if it's something to worry about or just a side effect of having some goop in your eye that doesn't belong there. If it doesn't calm down soon, though, we should take you somewhere. Where is your 'better than Advil'?"
"Third shelf. Middle door of the medicine cabinet. Don't go for too long...fuck. I want to tell you to stop talking to me but we both know that I can't say it and mean it."
He presses his lips together in annoyance and rubs the good eye with the back of his hand.
He was so done with this. Usually he saw, wanted, took. But Banner... He can't have a tryst to stop the want. And he wouldn't either.
Bruce? Teammate. Bruce? Not someone he can have a one night stand with.
Bruce? Guest in a house he shares with his girlfriend.
If it wouldn't be better that Tony be observed, Bruce probably would just leave him alone. This is bad news; this is a dead end, and his crush on Tony has gone from the kind of sad life circumstance he can just accept to something that might ruin a friendship. Two friendships; he likes Pepper.
Bruce hunts around Tony's surprisingly impressive collection of medicines, and he settles on something; he comes back with the bottle and a glass of water, and he hands both to Tony.
"Take two. If it doesn't start to help your eye in couple hours, we can start being worried."
He stands back and slides his hands into his pockets.
"I can just sit over there and read. We don't have to talk."
Tony waits for something else to slip from his lips but thankfully there's nothing. He flops under the covers and is just settling down when he hears Bruce pull out the phone he'd given him.
Is he checking email? Taking notes?
Sending a transcript of this unfortunateness to the entire world? Tony wants to suggest YouTube but instead:
"You don't have to sit all the way over there. I think we've established that I don't might your presence."
"And what would me being any closer do except... complicate things?"
Bruce likes this distance. He can pretend like it's yesterday, and he's just watching Tony sleep, like he's done in their lab before. Watching Tony sleep is maybe one of his favorite things these days.
He stops what he was doing -- playing a word unscrambling game; it's soothing -- and bites his lip. He's not obligated to tell the truth, but would not being honest about things help or hurt the situation?
"I don't mind your presence either, which is an understatement that thankfully a truth serum isn't going to make me elaborate on. It's better if I stay over here."
Because what? What did he just say? Tony's eyes harden slightly because the world has grown unfair and Tony knows he's done a whole lot of bad and probably deserves it, but he's been trying to atone.
He wants to be a better man. He truly does.
He watches Bruce glance up. And glance down. The man is uncomfortable in his own skin. The thought strikes him that, being so repressed, Banner must be pretty wild in bed.
At this point, Bruce is just confused. And hurt. And sure that this won't get them anywhere good. What had been funny is now probably an unfortunate end to the best friendship he's had in a long time, and now he has to push Tony away and shut Tony out and... God, that is just so unappealing. It's so unappealing it actually, physically, hurts. Bruce doesn't decide to let people in lightly; sure, Tony had barged his way in, but Bruce could've shut him out, too. He didn't, and he still doesn't want to.
"What are you talking about?" He frowns, his nose wrinkling in confusion. "Isn't this kind of it, right here?"
Tony isn't helping. Tony doesn't help. All he does is make things worse and worse and worse because-- He's a jerk. Because he can. Because he is an emotionally stunted late thirty-something year old. Because he doesn't understand that friends don't hurt friends for social experiments that they really don't understand.
It's unfair. And Tony is ridiculously ill informed on how friends ought to react towards friends.
"No, like, your heart rate. When does it switch over so that you can't stop it from happening?"
This seems like a non sequitur to him. Tony has Pepper, Bruce has the other guy, and that's just it, right? That's the way things are, and the way they have to be, and Tony now is just off on some tangent that's somehow related and Bruce just doesn't see how yet. That's actually somewhat normal.
He sighs and looks up from his game again.
"205 beats per minute. My watch starts beeping at me around 150."
"Is it fixed? I mean, do you know for a fact? Have you done research? It's not in your files and-- Jarvis, note. Update Banner's files." Tony is trying to get some rest. Which explains why he is currently crawling towards the bottom of the bed to slip off the foot and invade Bruce's space
( ... )
Pointedly, Bruce isn't looking up. He's glad at least this isn't in his file because he doesn't really want to have a sit-down with a SHIELD person claiming to look after his best interest asking him to therapeutically masturbate in the next room for science. And that's what it would be, right? Bruce is working on meditation; he has a better control over the other guy than he's had in the past, and maybe he's swung an orgasm on his own. It's the danger of hurting someone else that stops him from researching any further than that.
He's trying to whittle down the agonizing thought process it took Bruce to reach that point, and he's maybe got a sentence started when he finally looks up and there's Tony, and then there's Tony's mouth.
He doesn't stop him. God help him, and he's sorry, Pepper, but Bruce closes his eyes and kisses Tony back, but it's only for a moment. Then he pulls away, shrinking back in the chair, trying to put physical space between them, but without actually pushing Tony away.
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"I'll make a note of that," and also to be concerned with the fate of Tony's eye, maybe he should get him some kind of ice pack for it? But he can't just get up and leave right now, not when there's the other thing Tony said ( ... )
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He was done with the hand on his back. He wanted to be done with it at least. Tony wished that they could focus on his eye-- It didn't look like it though.
His little smidge of curiosity is going to kill him.
"You're having fun, aren't you?"
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Bruce blinks at him for a second, and then clears his throat, sitting back and pulling his hand away.
"Do you have any Advil in here? It might help with the inflammation."
Tony's disappointed they're not having sex. Well, cool, Bruce is too, but just because they agree doesn't mean that they can do anything about that problem. On the contrary, it was better when Bruce was just mindlessly fantasizing about Tony; knowing that it could happen, but it can't, just makes everything worse.
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Not that he has to be, of course. The alcohol is doing it's job already.
"It doesn't hurt. It just stings a little. The tingling in my nostril has gone away, though. So that's lucky. Does my eye look swollen or just red?"
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"A little of both. It looks mostly irritated; can't say yet if it's something to worry about or just a side effect of having some goop in your eye that doesn't belong there. If it doesn't calm down soon, though, we should take you somewhere. Where is your 'better than Advil'?"
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He presses his lips together in annoyance and rubs the good eye with the back of his hand.
He was so done with this. Usually he saw, wanted, took. But Banner... He can't have a tryst to stop the want. And he wouldn't either.
Bruce? Teammate. Bruce? Not someone he can have a one night stand with.
Bruce? Guest in a house he shares with his girlfriend.
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Bruce hunts around Tony's surprisingly impressive collection of medicines, and he settles on something; he comes back with the bottle and a glass of water, and he hands both to Tony.
"Take two. If it doesn't start to help your eye in couple hours, we can start being worried."
He stands back and slides his hands into his pockets.
"I can just sit over there and read. We don't have to talk."
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Tony waits for something else to slip from his lips but thankfully there's nothing. He flops under the covers and is just settling down when he hears Bruce pull out the phone he'd given him.
Is he checking email? Taking notes?
Sending a transcript of this unfortunateness to the entire world? Tony wants to suggest YouTube but instead:
"You don't have to sit all the way over there. I think we've established that I don't might your presence."
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Bruce likes this distance. He can pretend like it's yesterday, and he's just watching Tony sleep, like he's done in their lab before. Watching Tony sleep is maybe one of his favorite things these days.
He stops what he was doing -- playing a word unscrambling game; it's soothing -- and bites his lip. He's not obligated to tell the truth, but would not being honest about things help or hurt the situation?
"I don't mind your presence either, which is an understatement that thankfully a truth serum isn't going to make me elaborate on. It's better if I stay over here."
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Because what? What did he just say? Tony's eyes harden slightly because the world has grown unfair and Tony knows he's done a whole lot of bad and probably deserves it, but he's been trying to atone.
He wants to be a better man. He truly does.
He watches Bruce glance up. And glance down. The man is uncomfortable in his own skin. The thought strikes him that, being so repressed, Banner must be pretty wild in bed.
He doesn't need that right now.
"What's your point of no return?"
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"What are you talking about?" He frowns, his nose wrinkling in confusion. "Isn't this kind of it, right here?"
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It's unfair. And Tony is ridiculously ill informed on how friends ought to react towards friends.
"No, like, your heart rate. When does it switch over so that you can't stop it from happening?"
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He sighs and looks up from his game again.
"205 beats per minute. My watch starts beeping at me around 150."
Back to the game.
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He's trying to whittle down the agonizing thought process it took Bruce to reach that point, and he's maybe got a sentence started when he finally looks up and there's Tony, and then there's Tony's mouth.
He doesn't stop him. God help him, and he's sorry, Pepper, but Bruce closes his eyes and kisses Tony back, but it's only for a moment. Then he pulls away, shrinking back in the chair, trying to put physical space between them, but without actually pushing Tony away.
"What're you doing, Tony?"
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