.
.
"You know, if you wanted to kill me, there are easier ways. The big glowing reactor in my chest, for example. It wouldn't even be that hard, without the suit. But this? This is just cruel. You wound me, Bruce, I'm wounded."
Bruce doesn't raise his gaze from the book he's reading, but he does laugh slightly before answering.
"It's just tea, Stark. The only way it would kill you is if I poisoned it. And we've already been over how there are easier ways to kill you."
Tony places the mug of tea on his dresser with a little more force than necessary, before moving to where Bruce is sprawled in his chair. Tony wastes no time in pulling away the book and tossing it gently to the table, and then pulling Bruce up by his shirt.
Bruce laughs and allows it, wrapping his arms loosely around Tony's waist as he stands.
"Stark?" Tony says, "We're doing the last name thing right now? Should I be calling you Banner? Actually, you know how much I love calling you Banner. And Doctor. And Doctor Banner, and…"
"Tony!" Bruce interrupts, laughing, "How much more caffeine than usual have you had today. And have you slept, like, at all?"
Tony leans in to pull at Bruce's earlobe with his teeth before whispering in his ear.
"I was with you the whole night, Doctor Banner, shouldn't you know?"
"I actually slept for a few hours there," Bruce says, moving his hands to wrap being Tony's neck, tilting his head so their eyes meet. "But you were gone when I woke up. And if you think you can avoid the question by reminding me about the sex, you're not as smart as I thought."
Tony scoffs, but doesn't pull away or make any move to make Bruce remove his hands.
"I'm a genius," he says instead, because it's easy, second nature.
"Mhm," Bruce says, massaging where Tony's neck meets his hairline, causing his eyes to close against his will, and a groan to slip out of his mouth before he can stop it.
"But," Bruce continues, quickly pressing a chaste kiss to Tony's lips, because he can, "So am I."
Tony's eyes flutter open, and Bruce feels his breath hitch.
All the days they've worked together, and all the nights they've spent in each other's beds, he never does get used to the intensity of Tony's eyes.
"How could I forget?" Tony's saying, snapping Bruce out of his haze. He's smirking though, and Bruce knows he's forgotten nothing.
"Just answer the question," Bruce says, smiling when Tony threads his thumbs through the belt loops of Bruce's trousers, tracing his fingers against Bruce's hips.
"No," Tony says, and Bruce thinks he's being stubborn again, until his shoulders sag and he leans into Bruce, tucking his head against Bruce's neck.
"No, I haven't slept," he finishes, all the fight from just moments ago gone.
Bruce just holds onto him, hands coming down from his neck to hug him tightly.
"I'm so tired," Tony whispers, as if it's a sin that he's confessing.
Bruce wants to tell him how ridiculous that is, but the truth is he knows exactly how he feels.
"Let's take a nap," he says instead, releasing Tony and pushing him just far enough away to pull off his grease-smeared t-shirt.
Tony gives him a flirtatious grin, even if it is only at half the level of usual charm.
"A naked nap?" he asks, moving to unbutton Bruce's shirt and toss it to the ground before pulling off his tank top as well. "We're both already half naked, anyway. Just gotta get rid of all these pesky pants and…"
"Tempting," Bruce says, swallowing hard against the desire that flares up, "But you need sleep. Sleep first, ok?"
Tony almost looks relieved, which worries Bruce even more.
"Fine," Tony says, "But naked sleeping. Compromise with me, Banner, I dare ya."
Bruce laughs, but gets rid of the rest of his clothing, purposely watching Tony do the same.
"Is there anything that you can't turn into an innuendo?" he asks, pointing at the bed in a clear demand.
"Nothing so far," Tony replies, grinning so brilliantly that Bruce almost reconsiders the whole 'sleep first' thing.
But Tony's already crawling under the covers, looking like he won't last another minute of consciousness.
Bruce slips in beside him, resting his head on Tony's shoulder and placing one hand on his chest, fingers just brushing the metal of the arc reactor. Tony reaches up and puts his hand over Bruce's, not even managing to join their fingers before he's asleep.
Bruce stares at him fondly for a moment, before moving off Tony's shoulder and resting on his pillow to close his own eyes. He leaves his hand where it is, though, trapped comfortably under the sleep-slack weight of Tony's.
There's a slight vibration, he's found, to the miracle machine that keeps Tony alive, but it doesn't bother him. If anything, it's become soothing; a tactile reminder that Tony is very much alive, despite the fact that he really shouldn't be.
That he nearly wasn't.
But he is. He's here, he's with Bruce, and they're trying to save the world. Or maybe they're just trying to save each other.
The lines blur, Bruce thinks, opening his eyes again to regard Tony. It's an almost impossible fight either way, he knows. But then again, they're both men that by any normal standards shouldn't exist.
"That's our saving grace," Bruce whispers. "You and I? We shouldn't be here. It defies all the odds. Every single one, Stark. We shouldn't be here."
Tony sleeps on, but Bruce swears he feels him twitch beneath their hands. He rubs his thumb against Tony's skin soothingly and leans over to press a kiss into his shoulder before settling back on his own pillow and finishing his thought.
"But I'm glad we are."
.
THE END.