A/N – I am blatantly making up the "after the movie" timeline and stuff. I'm basing it vaguely on other fics I've read and what my plot necessitates. Call it AU if it makes your head hurt less. Also, the POV changes from Tony to Bruce to Tony again. It's on purpose, not me just being a flake. Just FYI.
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When it's all said and done, Tony Stark has no intention of letting Bruce Banner disappear off to some third-world country again. Sure, New York is maybe a little bit torn apart. And ok, maybe the Other Guy had a whole lot to do with that, and Banner probably feels guilty as hell, even knowing that they won.
They saved the world. That alone is something worth celebrating.
Banner, though, Tony thinks, saved him. He very literally snatched him, mid-air, out of a freefall to certain death. It's not something to be brushed off, even by somebody with an ego as big as Tony's.
Thus, he's determined to make Bruce Banner stay.
He's not expecting Bruce to agree so easily.
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Pepper adores Bruce, which amuses Tony more than he cares to admit, but also makes his chest hum with something that has nothing to do with the arc reactor. He ignores it, though, and focuses all his energy into rebuilding Stark tower to its former glory, with just a few modifications.
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They live in a strange kind of harmony, the three of them. Tony works at all hours of the day and night, sometimes losing the days completely until Pepper drags him out and forces him to shower and sleep. More frequently recently, and much more than ever before, he finds himself consciously trying to take better care of himself. He manages to get to bed before midnight on most days, losing himself in Pepper until they both can sleep.
What they have is good, and warm, and so close to perfect that Tony isn't sure how it hasn't fallen apart. Yet, he's somehow still surprised when it does.
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He locks himself away in his lab for two weeks before Banner convinces Jarvis to let him in.
"Go away," Tony says, absolutely not sulking. Geniuses don't sulk. It's unbecoming.
Bruce ignores the words, and steps closer instead, crouching down beside the chair Tony is slouched into.
"You need to eat," he says, kindly.
"I already ate," Tony says, spinning to pull up some schematics on one of his tablets, willing Bruce to take the hint.
"You ate three days ago," Bruce says.
That does catch Tony a little bit off guard, but only for a moment.
"That's not so bad," he says, returning his attention back to the tablet.
"Tony," Bruce says, in such a concerned tone it makes Tony ache.
Pepper used that same tone.
"Come on," Bruce is saying, but Tony barely hears the words as he's being physically dragged out of the chair against his will.
"Where?" Tony manages to get out as Bruce all but carries him out of the lab.
"Food, shower, bed," Bruce responds, "In that order. On second thought; shower, food, bed. You kind of reek, man."
Tony's laughter surprises them both, even if it does border on hysterical.
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Bruce all but tucks him in after his shower and meal, a fact that Tony would argue about if he wasn't so bone-tired.
"Want to talk about it?" Bruce asks, and Tony is surprised to hear the sincerity in his voice. It's generally been his experience that even though people ask, they don't often want to listen.
"No," he replies, and just as he's thinking he should probably thank Bruce, sleep claims him, and the moment is gone.
Bruce just smiles at his friend sadly before backing out of the room, letting Jarvis close the doors behind him.
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Bruce mulls over the whole situation the next morning while eating the eggs he's made. He knows Pepper is still running the company, but he hasn't seen her in over two weeks. Part of him is furious at her for hurting Tony, probably more so than he has any right to be. But another part of him can't help but understand. There's no doubt that she loves Tony. But in the end, it's all about self-preservation. Being with Tony is dangerous, in many ways, and that's a lot for anyone to handle. Even Pepper.
Bruce can relate. He knows the only thing worse than the fear of dying is the fear of watching somebody that you love die.
And Tony, well, Tony isn't always careful. He's brilliant, and almost absent-mindedly generous, and more loving than he realizes, but he's cocky to the point of recklessness.
Pepper doesn't want to watch him die. Bruce can't really blame her.
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His musings are interrupted by the arrival of Tony, who is blindly flailing to the coffee Jarvis has made. He still looks rough, but sleep has helped some, and Bruce breathes a little easier now that his friend isn't quite so fragile looking.
"There's eggs, if you want some," he says, laughing slightly when Tony startles at his voice.
"Sorry."
Tony waves his hand dismissively as he gulps the coffee.
Bruce shakes his head and goes back to his eggs, browsing the newspaper idly. He'd taken it upon himself to get the physical subscription sent to the tower, even though he could pull any publication he wanted up on one of the hundreds of tech devices in the house. There's just something about the dull black ink that rubs onto his fingers that he's missed.
"Did you say eggs?" Tony asks, suddenly, apparently sufficiently awakened by the coffee.
"On the stove," Bruce says, "I'm sure Jarvis kept them warm for you."
"Eggs good," Tony nods, moving to fill a plate, before settling at the counter across from Bruce.
Bruce can't help but smile at Tony's morning fogginess.
"Tree pretty," Bruce agrees, knowing Tony isn't really listening.
It takes a full minute, but Tony does eventually snap his gaze up to Bruce's, confusion and excitement clashing in his eyes.
"Wait," he says, "What did you say?"
Bruce flushes slightly; he really hadn't expected Tony to be paying attention.
"I, um, I said 'tree pretty,'" he explains, "It doesn't really make any sense, it's just a refere..."
"Buffy!" Tony interrupts, "You watch Buffy? Or well, watched, I guess, since it's been off the air for years…"
Bruce shrugs, "I haven't been very current with television for the past…long time. I was staying with a friend who had the DVDs for a while, she pulled me into a marathon."
Tony just smirks.
"Not so fast, Stark," Bruce says, grinning, "You knew that reference just as well as I did."
"I have no shame," Tony says, "Kick-ass girls in leather and itty bitty skirts? What's not to love?"
Bruce snorts in amusement, but Tony's still going.
"Always did have a thing for Willow, though. Even in the awful early-season clothes. And Spike. Fuck. Yeah, loved Spike."
Bruce is taken by surprise at that, though he supposes nothing should surprise him about Tony Stark anymore. Still, his eyebrows rise of their own accord, and Tony catches him before he can help it.
"That bother you?" Tony says, challenge clear in his voice. "Enormous green rage monsters are one thing, but I won't have asshole homophobes in my house."
After a long moment, Bruce just ducks his head and gives a little smile.
"I was always more of an Angel guy, myself."
Tony gasps and clutches a hand over his heart, overly dramatic.
"That just might be worse," he says, but his eyes are shining with amusement.
"Better than Riley," Bruce offers, shrugging.
Tony considers it.
"Better than Riley," he agrees.
They finish their breakfast in comfortable silence.
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A week later, Tony is eating at least once a day, and showering at least every other day. Bruce considers it good progress.
"Come on," Tony says, a few days after that, motioning for Bruce to follow him into the expansive screening room.
Bruce laughs outright when he sees all seven seasons of Buffy queued up on the giant screen.
"I do have work to do, you know," he says, "It's only two in the afternoon."
"You have all the time in the world," Tony says, "Lab's not going anywhere. Come. Sit. Watch. In that order."
Bruce just barely stops himself from commenting on Tony's choice of words, but it's a near thing. Though by the smirk on Tony's face, he's not entirely sure it was accidental.
Bruce sits on the couch beside Tony and turns to give him an amused look.
"You're a strange man, Tony Stark," he says.
Tony meets his gaze and nods once before turning back to the screen.
"And you, Dr. Banner," he replies, "have very kind eyes."
Bruce doesn't know how to respond to that, so he doesn't. Tony thankfully lets it be, and they settle in for some Buffy.
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Natasha and Clint show up a month later, back from a long mission somewhere in Asia that they refuse to talk about. Tony tosses them each a bottle of liquor and points them to their respective floors. By the next morning, it's like they've always been there, which Bruce finds mildly disconcerting, but somehow reassuring. It's a strange thing, to feel so secure in a house full of killers. Then again, his life is nothing if not a constant set of contradictions. He supposes it evens out somewhere deep into the equation.
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Tony comes in one day, with Steve behind him, duffel bag slung over his shoulder.
"About time," Clint says. He's sitting at the kitchen table, cleaning his bow meticulously.
"Hawkeye," Steve nods to him.
"Wi..Natasha," he stutters over his greeting to the woman, who is leaning against the counter casually, apple in one hand.
"Captain," she says, with so much irony in her voice that she just might be sincere. Bruce never can tell with her.
"Good to see you," Bruce says, moving to shake Steve's hand, "Welcome."
"I'm supposed to be the one welcoming people, Banner," Tony says, with fake exasperation "It's my place, after all."
"Hah," Clint interrupts, "It's just as much Banner's. You two are totally married."
"We are not mar…" Bruce begins but Tony cuts him off.
"Fair enough," he says to Clint, shrugging. He turns his attention to Bruce.
"Honey," he says, in a sugar sweet voice, "Steve's room is on level eight, can you show him the way?"
"So strange," Bruce says, sighing, but he gestures for Steve to follow him anyway.
"Someone's sleeping on the couch tonight!" he hears Clint laugh, followed by a thick thud and surprised cussing.
He looks back just long enough to see Clint brushing the remnants of Natasha's apple of out his hair. He shoots her a grateful glance before heading on his way.
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"So," Steve says, when they reach his room, "Are you and Tony… I mean, I know things are different now, and really, I'm not judging… I just wasn't expecting it."
Bruce leans against the door frame and thinks for a moment before answering.
"We're not," he says, because it's true. They haven't so much as kissed, never mind slept together.
"But?" Steve says, reminding Bruce that just because he's out of time, doesn't mean he's dumb.
"We maybe kind of are," Bruce continues. "We're… I think we're something, I just don't know what."
"Besides a time-bomb?" Steve says, teasing him.
"Still that," Bruce replies, somber for a moment, "Always that. But yes, besides that."
"What happened with Ms. Potts?" Steve asks, opting for a relatively lighter topic.
Bruce shrugs, "He doesn't really talk about it, what happened, I mean. But she's been by more, recently. I think they're learning to be friends again."
"Good," Steve says, "So maybe you two can be whatever it is that you are."
"You're awfully invested in my love life, Rogers," Bruce says, but he's laughing.
"I was introduced to Soap Operas," he confesses in a whisper, "And I'm days behind. I still don't know if Amy's baby is Eric or Derek's. They're twins!"
"Imagine that," Bruce says, dryly.
"Sorry," Steve says, "I'll try to keep my curiosity to the television."
"Don't worry about it," Bruce says, "Someone may as well know what's going on, because I sure don't most of the time."
Steve smiles, and Bruce is caught off guard by how young he looks in moments like this, when he's not in battle. When he's just a man, albeit a genetically enhanced, time-displaced one.
"He talked about you the whole way over," Steve says, "About the work you two are doing together. How you're trying to learn to control the Hulk, and something about his new suit. The words stopped being English after a while. "
Bruce thinks about that even as he's leaving the room, nodding goodbye to Steve.
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Bruce decides to talk to Tony the next day, and figure out what's going on between them.
Naturally, that's when the sirens go off.
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Bruce isn't even sure who they're fighting. He just knows they need to act quickly, and take out a giant robot and its smaller robot henchmen.
"Why is it always fucking robots?" Clint says from somewhere behind him.
"Don't think they're alien this time," Natasha says, sounding almost bored.
Bruce supposes most things are boring after alien robots.
He's waiting in the wings of the fight, only prepared to Hulk out if there's no other option. It's going well enough, until a second wave of robot henchmen appear, and Tony is trapped among them, the Iron Man suit bashing around with his escape attempts.
He's not even thinking as he transforms and stomps over to the robot army surrounding Tony. They're crushed in a matter of minutes, which is enough time for Steve, Clint and Natasha to destroy the main robot and the remaining henchmen.
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He changes back only minutes later, which is nice. But he's very much naked, which is less nice. He lost all modestly long ago, but it never does stop being an annoyance. But then Tony's there, handing him sweats and grinning widely, the Iron Man helmet pushed back to reveal his face.
"Hey there, big guy," he says, "Nice work."
"Anyone hurt?" Bruce asks, blatantly scanning Tony for injuries.
"Only the bad guys. Robots. Whatever."
"Good," Bruce says, pulling on the sweatpants and t-shirt. "Thanks for these."
Tony shrugs, like it's nothing.
"Help me up?" Bruce says, mind racing as he makes his decision.
Tony reaches down to grab his hand and pull him up, but Bruce tugs hard, pulling Tony down instead. The metal suit is heavy on him, but he knows he won't break.
"What?" Tony asks, looking down at Bruce with those ridiculously expressive eyes.
Bruce just leans up and kisses him, hoping he's not about to get blasted in defense.
To his immense relief, Tony kisses him back, so sweetly that Bruce is half-convinced he's still asleep.
Before they can go any further, a booming voice sounds around them.
"AVENGERS!"
The look up to see Thor standing a few feet away, looking around at the damage with obvious disappointment.
"You missed all the fun," Natasha says, coming to join him, with Clint and Steve not far behind.
"I've missed much, I think," Thor says, turning his attention to Bruce and Tony, who are still lying on the ground together.
"Uhhh," Bruce says, his brilliance no match for the awkwardness of the moment.
"I knew it!" Clint exclaims, giving a little jump of victory.
Natasha rolls her eyes and cuffs him upside the head, before grabbing him by the arm and leading him away.
"Come on," Steve says to Thor, motioning towards one of the cars, "I'll catch you up."
"Very well," Thor agrees. He gives Bruce and Tony a wave as he goes.
"I had given up hope of your copulating, friends! I'll be glad to tell the others in Asgard of my error. They've been riveted to your tale in the past months."
And then everyone is gone but Steve and Bruce, and the crater below them.
"So…are we like, an Asgardian Soap Opera to them?" Tony asks, as they finally get to their feet.
"Midgardian, I think," Bruce corrects, "We're in Midgard. Why do we keep getting compared to Soap Operas, anyway?"
"What?" Tony asks.
"Never mind."
"Is this gonna be one of those things where we need to have a great big talk, and then a few more great big talks?" Tony asks. "Or can we just skip ahead to the part where you're kissing me?"
Bruce laughs.
"You can't have a Buffy quote for everything," he says, but he kisses him anyway.
"Wanna bet?" Tony says, grinning with the idea of the challenge.
"Mhm," Bruce replies, wrapping his arms around Tony's waist. "But not right now. Right now I think we should go home, and you should take off the suit."
"It's a good plan, Doctor, I like it. I knew you were a genius," Tony says, "Race you to the car."
Bruce just shakes his head as Tony takes off, knowing he's not going anywhere without him.
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The thing about people, Tony thinks, as he watches Bruce sleeping, is that they're basically designed to hurt you. And the more you care about them, the harder it will hit if they do.
Losing Pepper, even when she wasn't really gone, had gutted him. But he understood, eventually. They even talk now, sometimes even not about business.
The problem with all of this, he thinks, is that for as much as people hurt can hurt you; they can love you even more. It's the only thing that can explain why anyone ever trusts anyone else.
Bruce told him once that life was all about self-preservation. It's one big equation of variables that you can't control, so you just try to cause the least damage possible. It's more cynical than Tony expected from the man who saved him. Saved him from death, and more importantly, from himself.
But he supposes that Bruce has a long list of reason to be cynical. And he's right, to a point. Life is about self-preservation.
But, Tony thinks, cuddling closer and smiling when Bruce wraps an arm around him in his sleep, it's also about risks, and the people worth taking them.
Also, sex. Great sex is definitely worth losing a little self-preservation in Tony's book.
As if on cue, Bruce stirs behind him and leans forward to kiss his neck.
Tony turns around and tangles their legs together as the press into each other.
It's too early for anything more than this, this lazy kissing and rutting against each other, but they find it's more than enough. Bruce buries his face in Tony's shoulder as he comes, and bites down, sending Tony over the edge.
"Fuck," Tony pants, when they finally clean up and lie back down.
"Sleep," Bruce says, "Fuck later. Promise."
"Tree pretty," Tony agrees, pulling up the blanket to cover them.
The bed shakes with Bruce's laughter, and Tony's sure he's never heard a better sound.
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THE END.