It was 4am and Bruce still sat in the lab, illumination from the multiple computer screens creating a spot of light in the dark room. Test tubes filled with different chemicals littered the table around him, blood samples under microscopes were magnified to different levels. Yet there was still no solution to the conundrum that had been plaguing him for years. There was no solution to the Hulk.
Bruce took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small hand-gun. He caressed the cold metal and tossed it between his fingers, but knew very well that putting a bullet in his mouth wouldn't kill him, but what about right between the eyes? He pressed the mouth of the gun to his forehead. What about his temple? The cold metal ring moved to his left temple. He took the safety off and contemplated the weapon. So far the only solution he had come up with was death, which would solve the Hulk for good. Yet death was a far reach. Could one kill the Hulk?
Bruce was jarred from his thoughts by the sound of a door slamming. 'Tony's awake' he inwardly sighed. Soon the sound of dress shoes clicked closer on the expensive tiled hallway. Bruce quickly turned the safety back on the gun and tossed it into the dark abyss of the lab, the metal colliding with table legs and eventually the floor seemed loud and alien.
"I don't think I need to tell you that you need to sleep occasionally, Dr." If Tony had heard the gun being tossed, he didn't let on. Yet his eyes were dark, he was annoyed with Bruce.
"Why are you up so early, Stark?" Bruce asked tiredly, he was frustrated at himself, at his experiments, and at Tony for being so god-damned perfect, his tone perfectly reflected that. Tony's hair was perfectly spiked; he wore an expensive gray tailored suit. It accentuated his chiseled tan body, his tall thin figure… He immediately crashed that train of thought.
Tony gave a benevolent smile, "Business trip, going to Florida." He chirped, seemingly happy with the results, there was something he was hiding."So pack your bags because there is no way I'm leaving you alone in that state. There's a bed on the jet, so you can sleep then."
Bruce gave Tony his best 'you-gotta-be-fucking-kidding-me' look. To which Tony countered with 'I-get-what-I-want-so-get-your-ass-moving'. Bruce sighed, too tired for a fight and honestly looking forward to the warm sunny Florida, the hulk liked warm places. He got up and with small motion of defeat, went to pack his bags. Of course he wasn't kidding when all he had packed was a toothbrush, but Tony had provided him with a full wardrobe and wouldn't take no for an answer.
"You know it's not a smart notion to have the hulk in a small pressurized container thousands of feet above the ground." Bruce grumbled, feeling sore at losing.
Tony merely smirked at him, and unbuckled himself from his seat. He walked behind Bruce and reached his hands around his waist to unbuckle his seat-belt. Bruce blushed at the close contact and allowed himself to be led the extravagant bedroom on the jet. The room had a tan theme, with a plush bed with layers of blankets and a multitude of pillows. There were no windows, but there were paintings on the walls, some of iron man, some of them were replicas (he assumed) of famous artists. Tony was already peeling off Bruce's jacket, and now he was unbuttoning his shirt- wait.
"Tony, what the hell are you doing?"
"Oh, you called me Tony!" said offender replied happily.
"I can undress myself you know."
"But that ruins the fun~" Tony whined but backed off at Bruce's glare.
Bruce finished unbuttoning his favorite purple shirt (well one of them, Tony had provided him with many) and took off his brown dress shoes, deciding to leave his khaki pants on and he climbed into the plush bed. He snuggled into the covers. 'They smell like Tony' he thought lazily. Bruce buried his face in the pillows that smelled of Tony, of cologne and shower and musk. "Tony..." he muttered before drifting off.