Disclaimer: I don't own rights to/make money from anything Marvel. This is for fun.

Warnings: men attracted to other men.

Author's Note: I wrote this at work yesterday on the scraps from discarded receipt rolls. Yeah.

UNDEFINED VARIABLES

It was a nice sentiment, in theory at least. As long as that theory made no mention of the fact that such a sentiment would likely end up hurting him, it was believable. It would fall apart in the experimental phase, surely, because all the variables would have to be explored. That sentiment was the big one, and he had an extensive laundry list of reasons why that one was not, in fact, true.

It would probably save him a world of trouble if he just didn't think about it.

There was the root of the problem, though. Tony made it really hard to ignore him, and even more difficult to ignore the feeling stirring in his gut.

"What do you think of this?" Tony flicked a bundle of data across the room, and it landed with a ping on Bruce's screen. He pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, expanding all the files. There were energy readings, tensile strength test results, a few other things, all labeled, all suit related.

Bruce pressed his lips into a small smile, raising an eyebrow. "I'm not the engineer here."

Tony turned, showing him one of his looks. He swears those looks much be patented by Stark Industries or at least be insured somehow. He shoots back a look of his own, standing his ground.

That was probably the wrong idea. That was a variable he was not wanting to test yet. There were no controls in place. It was skewing the data.

Tony broke into a shining smile, crossing the room to clap Bruce's shoulder. "How dare you sell yourself short, Dr. Banner. You," Tony pointed at him with that glowing grin, and Bruce could feel color burning on his cheeks, "are a genius. Flaunt it."

Bruce shook his head, letting out a breathy chuckle. "Flaunting it is more your style."

"Doesn't mean you can't have some confidence." Tony rolled his eyes, rearranging the panels on Bruce's screen with deft hands. The realization that Tony had made all of this, from the robots which helped them now and then to the operating systems on their lab computers (and the computers too, probably) was mind blowing, even after living and working in the tower for the last month. Candyland had not been an exaggeration. The best—and perhaps the worst, too—part of it was Tony himself.

Not only was Tony a genius, he was also business savvy and extremely charismatic. He could probably move an entire room of scientists to believe the moon was purple and infested with unicorns using his charming smiles and smooth tongue alone.

If he didn't stop thinking about it now, he'd be in some serious trouble.

"Earth to Banner, this is Control, can you hear me?"

Bruce blinked, taking off his glasses to polish them briefly, to concentrate. Thankfully, Tony was only a blur right now, so that helped. Bruce took his time, even though he knew the lenses were already clean. After a count to ten and back, he finally fitted them back on, pulling the screen closer so it consumed his field of vision.

"This all looks great, from what I can tell."

"Good." Tony slid across from him, minimizing everything on the screen. That left Bruce staring through the blue glass, straight at Tony. Great. "There something you're not telling me?" He moved forward, not close enough to put a mist of breath on the glass, but enough to make Bruce's heart skip a beat. He was moderately surprised his heart hadn't stopped entirely at the question.

He was good at handling stress, though. Bruce just shrugged, playing it off with a timid smile. "I'm just not used to civilization yet."

Tony barked a laugh at that and took the blatant lie without batting an eyelash. He shoved the screen out of the way, leaning comfortably on the lab table between them. Bruce shuffled back half a step, thumbing through his notebook like it was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.

"Are you hungry?"

Bruce quirked an eyebrow again, glancing over the rims of his glasses. Tony was staring. His gaze felt too intense. Tony was an all or nothing kind of person. There was nothing in between, and it was times like these, with Tony all on him, that he felt completely and totally overwhelmed.

"Simple question, rocket scientist. Are you hungry?"

Bruce cleared his throat, staring at the notebook again. "I could eat."

"Let's go."

"What?"

"Come on. You, me, lunch, my treat."

It was a nice sentiment. It was a wonderful sentiment, even.

Maybe, just for today, he could pretend like it was real.