Problem Child

"You have got to be kidding me." Tony muttered as he strode purposefully into his room aboard the S.H.E.I.L.D. aircraft carrier. It was small, his room, and dark. He growled angrily under his breath and flicked on the light to survey his cramped surroundings. There was a double bed; he should be glad of that at least. The genius threw down his holdall and flopped gracelessly onto the bed, throwing his limbs out at all angles and letting out a moan of exhaustion.

He should call Pepper; he had promised her before she left but everything had been such a rush. Tony realised that he wasn't even certain what time it was. He rolled onto his side and gazed bleary-eyed at the digital clock set on the bedside table. Before his weary mind could register what his eyes were seeing there was a cough at the ridiculously high tech sliding door to his room. The door was rather unbelievable given the decidedly low tech quality of his room.

"Settling in?" The deep rumbling baritone of his recently acquired colleague was already familiar to him.

"Brucie! So nice of you to drop by my mansion here," Tony mumbled into the duvet. "Although you know what would be even nicer?"

"I can't imagine." Bruce Banner replied with a crooked smile, ambling into the room in what Tony had already established was his characteristic self-conscious manner. It was as though Bruce was paranoid of moving too suddenly or knocking everything over, like he had already changed into that great beast and was scared of breaking something, or someone.

"What would be even nicer is a freakin shower, man, or sleep, don't even remember what that feels like."

Banner chuckled softly to himself, clasping and unclasping his hands nervously. "Still, it's better than my room." The scientist muttered with a frown furrowing his brow.

"Yeah, how so?" Tony said, rolling onto his back and motioning for Bruce to sit beside him. "Take a pew Monster Man. Even the beast has to rest."

A flicker of repressed hurt passed across Bruce's features, but it came so briefly that Tony in his relaxed state hardly had a chance to notice it before the look was gone again.

"Well for one, all the walls of my room are reinforced with solid steel." Bruce pointed out. "Turns out Mr Fury doesn't trust me as completely as he's led me to believe."

Tony chewed his lip thoughtfully, "Well, that sucks. I guess that's got to be some kind of reassurance though? In case you can't-" here Tony mimed an explosion, "keep it all in you know?"

"I guess so" there was that weak little smile again.

Tony sat up so that the two men were sitting side by side. He flinched as their thighs brushed briefly. "Whoa, Banner you're...hot" he marvelled at the heat of the other man's touch curiously.

The older man gave an awkward laugh and rubbed a hand over his own bicep thoughtfully. "You flatter me Mr Stark," he grinned. Tony rolled his eyes. "I've always been hot blooded, in every sense of the phrase." Bruce elaborated, casting his eyes down momentarily. Tony nodded, trying to dispel the unnerving sensation of feeling the other man's skin burn beneath his, and the even more worrying shock of pleasure he received from it, and from thinking about all that pent up energy and the intensely passionate and unstable nature Mr Banner concealed within his own body. He wondered briefly how many of The Hulk's characteristics Bruce Banner already possessed.

"Uh, Tony?"

"Yeah"

"You can get your hand off my thigh now..."

Tony lifted his hand warily with an apologetic smile.

"Well it's getting late so..." Bruce began after a pregnant pause, leaving his statement unfinished.

"Yeah, right, see ya tomorrow" Tony rushed hurriedly, rubbing the nape of his neck awkwardly as Bruce stood and backed out of the door with a few mumbled apologies and mentions of 'good night'.

"Good night Mr Banner" Tony called after him, flopping back down onto the bed. He didn't even bother to undress, simply flicking the light switch by his bedside and letting the darkness enfold him in her comforting embrace.

Tony lay awake for some time, imagining various scenarios in which Bruce had the potential to turn into the beast. Of course the potential was always there, the monstrous side of himself the scientist concealed was liable to show it's brutish green face at any given moment, but it was just all about finding the right stimulant...

The ethereal white glow of the Ark Reactor in his chest illuminated a small portion of the room and Tony Stark sighed and rolled onto his stomach. The device was rather intriguing, but intrigue quickly turned to irritation when Tony tried to get some sleep with his own personal night light pulsating inside his chest. He smothered the light with the mattress and shut his eyes. In a way the Ark Reactor was as much a part of him as The Hulk was to Banner, ingrained within their very flesh. Bruce was as dependant on his alter-ego as Tony was on the piece of technology which was constantly working to pull pieces of shrapnel away from his heart. He supposed that like the rest of The Avengers, they were damaged and faulty human beings who could never thrive in the outside world because they were just too different. Thor especially.

Stark shook his head against the pillow and willed sleep to take him. It was late, or rather, it felt late.

As Tony Stark lay in the double bed in his room aboard the S.H.E.I.L.D. aircraft carrier, the clock on his bedside table continued to blink the time of 6:27pm.

In his dream, Tony was flying. He wasn't wearing the Iron Man suit. He was naked.

It was a spectacularly freeing sensation, the gentle ripple of the wind against bare skin, and the heat of the sun bearing down on him, life giving and nourishing.

And then there were hands, hot and welcoming, caressing his face, his chest. The genius sighed as fingertips traced his jaw...

Tony Stark woke suddenly, his heart stuttering a frantic rhythm as he struggled to untangle his limbs from the twisted bed linen. A sheen of sweat glistened on his bare chest when he removed his shirt. The dream had been too vivid, too real. He lifted a hand to his mouth and touched his lips carefully, remembering all too well the tender brush of Dr Bruce Banner's lips against his own...

Along the corridor, the doctor stirred in his sleep. In his dream, he was flying.

Hope you enjoyed it! Any reviews will be very gratefully received if you have the time! Thank you for reading x