The lights were cringe-worthy, multi-coloured flashing circles. Bruce didn't know why he'd let Anderson bring him to this loosely-termed 'ceremony'. It had started out okay, with the head of Culver Science Department thanking their mystery benefactor, but then he'd asked everyone to have a great night and the dancing started. The DJ was okay for about half an hour, then Bruce caught him tipping back three shots of neon green liquid, and less than ten minutes later the music became something more suited to a nightclub, the lights and guests following suit.

Sitting now, at the bar, sipping a whiskey on the rocks at eleven o'clock in the evening, Bruce debated leaving – but he was Anderson's Designated Driver… He sighed, putting down his glass. He was probably already a little over the limit. Maybe it would taper off by the time Anderson conked out.

"Bartender! Get me a whiskey!" A man tumbled down onto the bar-stool beside him, and it took a second, but then he recognised the face. His breathing quickened, as he tried to force his legs to move, then-

"I'm Tony, Tony Stark," the billionaire grinned, holding out his hand, obviously drunk – not like it wasn't an unfamiliar sight. Tony Stark was famous for his drunkenness. "You're so fucking hot, are you a scientist? Love the lab-coat," he leaned over, Bruce frozen as he clumsily trailed his finger down the white fabric that kept him warm over his thin plaid shirt. "I think I'm drunk. Can I sleep with you?"

He toppled over.

"Oh dear," Bruce muttered, rubbing his chest before slipping off his seat to help his unconscious soulmate. His hands shook as he heaved him up, setting him on the bar stool again, lightly slapping his face to wake him up. The bartender grunted.

"No whiskey for him, then?"

"No," Bruce muttered, before the man's eyelids fluttered open. "Hey, sunshine, you got a limo out there somewhere waiting? You're a bit out of it." The man wanted to make sure he would be okay. He was tired, and had Anderson to take home and the first tests with the machine tomorrow – he didn't really have time to wait for him to sober up, so they could talk about how they'd like to do this.

"Happy, Happy's got the car…" Tony slurred, before sliding off the stool again – this time onto his feet. He stumbled towards the door, Bruce following him to take his arm around his shoulder, wanting to help in any way. From what he knew about his soulmate, which wasn't a lot, the man had issues. The fact that he'd poured alcohol on his father's grave and set fire to it was still legendary, and infamous, around certain circles of Geek. A short memory of stumbling across a philosophical debate the Chess Club in High School were having about the stereotypes of rebellious geeks and normal geeks raised his spirits for a small moment, before a large, hulking, but soft man came over to them, taking Stark's arm.

"I've got him, I've got him…let's get you home, boss-man." The man – maybe this 'Happy' – nodded in Bruce's direction, before taking the man away before he even had a chance to get a number.

If he was lucky, he would see him again soon.

Unluckily for him, the next day he became the Hulk.


Shivering, Bruce pulled the trousers tight around his waist, looking at his teammates shyly as Tony directed Steve on how to remove the suit manually 'without hurting it'. Stumbling, he winced at feeling the rubble under his feet.

"Anyone know where some spare clothes are?" Everyone glanced, but looked away afterwards.

Except for one.

Tony was staring at his chest, eyes wide.

Bruce shrunk in on himself.

"Your words…those weren't our first words, were they? I swore I talked about your work…"

Bruce steadfastly didn't look at him as they made their way to the tower. They dealt with Loki, Thor using magic, of all things, to make a set of Asgardian cuffs and a muzzle appear on him. He was locked in a closet that had a glass door, Barton going on guard duty. It was only later, when he was about to go to sleep in his new flat in the tower, courtesy of Tony, that the billionaire appeared.

"Was it someone else pretending to me?"

"No," Bruce muttered, looking at the man in his doorway. "You were shit-faced drunk – fell unconscious right after you finished speaking. You didn't hear my words. Sorry."

"Do you remember them?" He asked pointedly, eyes narrowed. Bruce nodded.

"'Oh dear'." Tony made a sound in his throat, before he walked forwards and took his face, kissing him. Bruce was speechless for a moment, before he started reciprocating, hands grabbing at his soulmates dirty ACDC shirt.

"Are we doing this?" Tony asked as they drew away for breath. Bruce didn't relax his hold, but shook his head.

"Not right now. I'm completely shattered, for one, and you nearly died today. When I was told, I thought about ripping your head off, but it didn't seem fair."

Tony shivered, "Don't remind me." He came closer, hugging Bruce tightly. "Knew we were going to be best buds. Science Bros forever." Bruce wrapped his arms around his soulmate, grasp strong and steady as he breathed in the smell of grease, whiskey and black coffee.

"I don't want you to get hurt by the Other Guy, Tony, if anything happens," he started slowly, making the man jerk beneath him. Their eyes met again, confused, hurt brown facing dark hazel. "Every second, I'm supressing him. I don't want you to be in the middle or, well…" his lips curled in an uncharacteristically smug look, "or under me, if I happen to get distracted."

Tony shivered again, this time not in remembrance. Bruce's smirk faded into a frown. "Are you sure you want to be with me?" Tony immediately nodded, kissing him again. He was like an overgrown puppy, begging him with large, panicked eyes.

"Please don't leave me."

Bruce shook his head. "I'd never leave you, Tony, just…we'll have to wait to activate the bond." When the Hulk had appeared, he thought he'd never get to see Tony ever again. He'd thought of the Other Guy as a curse.

"Waiting is fine with me!"

Now, seeing the radiant smile on his face, Bruce wonders if it was both a curse and a gift.