Hey my amazing readers! I'm so, so happy about being out of the hospital that I needed to update again like, right away. This chapter is more angst…cause apparently I write angst when I'm happy? -shrugs- Anyways, this chapter takes place sometime after the second chapter (Simple Gestures) but before the third (Finger Promises and Changing Nothing). It gives background to references in "Bubblegum Saturdays and Whispered Names", because in that fic, Tony describes his need for reassurance from Bruce as something that has happened before. This chapter is what he's referring to, because I'm obsessive like that, and everything must be connected. X3 This one describes one of Tony and Bruce's fights in the beginnings of their relationship. My goal with this one was to show Tony's crippling humanness. We've seen Bruce work through some of his issues in these chapters, now it's Tony's turn at bat. So their relationship is still fairly new, and when you get two people together who are as wounded and messy as Tony Stark and Bruce Banner, more than just badly mixed lab chemicals explode. So, this is a dive into how Tony pushes people away, and how Bruce combats both his own and Tony's self-loathing. It is Bruce/Tony (yup, in that order). Tony may seem a bit OOC, because emotion isn't his thing, but let's look at that for a second. He's human, he has emotions...he doesn't always like emotions, but he has them. Therefore, Tony NOT responding in a very brokenly human way is OOC, not the other way around. Dedicated to lotus-brody, Radwoman, Madame Masquerade 64, and JustAGirlWithAPen. Enjoy my loves!

First part written to "Hallelujah" by Rufus Wainwright. Second part written to "Dark Side" by Kelly Clarkson. Ohmygod PLEASE listen to these. They just…I can't.

Disclaimer: Don't own anything that you'd recognize.

This was not their first fight. And it most definitely wouldn't be their last. But he wished it was.

Their 'fights' generally took the road of bickering good naturedly—with hints of seriousness, enough to let the other know that they felt strongly about whatever it was—which they would talk about afterwards to clear the air. They were both crazy about each other, and neither liked the feeling of holding grudges; they had done that enough in life.

But sometimes…

They spat poison at one another, neither meaning what they said, but the need to damage and break and rip would be so strong that it was like looking at yourself from a distance. You watched as you said the thing that would hurt him most, and your other-self took sick pleasure in watching the crumbling that was so entirely unhidden on his face. Your real self, the one watching, begged and pleaded with the rest of you to stop, stop, don't hurt him anymore! Tony wished he knew self-control like Bruce did. It would take hours of relentless cruelty for him to even snap back. He just…he let Tony break him if that's what Tony felt like doing. That was so…he wished he could call it messed up. But how much more fucked up was he for even doing that to Bruce—sweet, gentle, patient, understanding Bruce who knew him so well that he knew what time he'd be up if Fury was visiting the next day. Bruce who cared about him so much that during a particular mission, he'd taken a bullet to make sure it wouldn't touch Tony, even though Tony had his armor on. Bruce wouldn't be killed by it, thanks to Hulk, but he could still feel it for Christ's sake. Bruce had just laughed later and said that it must be a new one of Hulk's reflexes. "The Hulk thinks you walk on water. He's not gonna lose his 'Tiny Tony' to a bullet."

Tony didn't buy that bullshit for a second. He knew how deeply Bruce loved him. They'd been together long enough for him to know with every fiber of his being that Bruce would do anything, be anything, give anything for him. It wasn't Hulk's reflex, though Hulk certainly did have a soft spot for him. No…that was all Bruce.

So why, why, whywhywhywhy did Tony do this kind of shit? He wished he knew the answer. There was no explanation, no rationalization, no justification that would be a worthy reason for hurting Bruce. But once he started, it was like it just…took him over.

"—yeah, says the guy who thought he couldn't even fuck his girlfriend 'cause if he did, his alter-ego's dick would split her in half!"

"Tony, please just stop, okay? That has nothing to do with anything, and I'd really like to not fight right now. If you need to yell at me later, go ahead, but I have been in the lab for over forty-eight hours and I'm tired and a little upset at the results of my last experiment, and I'd really just like to go to sleep for a bit," Bruce said, rubbing his eyes tiredly and smiling half-heartedly. "And, to be fair, I didn't have control of Hulk like I do now, so that was a valid fear. Not that it matters anymore, since we've both proven that wrong." His smile grew a little, and Tony felt a deep ugliness creep up in him. How could Bruce be so goddamn patient when he was berating him? Why wasn't he leaving?

"That's true. Wonder what Ross's daughter would think if she knew her lover had been fucked by a guy," he mused, falsely nonchalant. He glanced over to Bruce, who's face seemed to crumble, and his heart simultaneously squeezed and hardened.

"I think…Betty would be happy if I was happy." But I'm not right now, was unspoken. "And I wouldn't describe what we do as 'fucking'," He said quietly. "Um, I'm gonna go sleep now, so I'll see you in a bit. Unless…you want to get a few hours too?" Ever the forgiving one, he gave a hopeful lopsided smile that tore at the raw edges in Tony's heart. "I've missed your company in the lab. If you want to join me, you can."

Tony lashed out. He'd spent the last two days alone, too proud to seek Bruce out when he'd woken up from a nightmare of Afghanistan alone. Bruce had just been down the hall, getting something from the fridge, but for some reason, Tony hadn't told him when he came back. He'd put up every wall and façade he could, and it had worked. Or he thought it had. Bruce's next words dashed that hope.

"Nightmares suck, so if we slept together for a bit, maybe we wouldn't have any later tonight." The words were thrown to him like a life vest, but he wasn't going to accept them. Bruce couldn't care that much. Couldn't love him despite all the shit he was saying, all the trouble he caused. This was the deepest of insecurities, of fears. That Bruce would leave if he pushed him enough. Everyone else had, right? His parents, Obie, Rhodey, Pepper…he pushed and he pushed and it was his fault when they left, but…it didn't make the tearing as they walked away any easier.

And if Bruce left, it would be the most jagged tear yet.

So he pushed some more. So fucked up…

"Yeah? That'd be great if it would work. Unfortunately, your oh-so-soothing presence doesn't do much to keep the monsters away. In fact, if you think about it…" he trailed off, letting that sentence and its implications—completely untrue implications—hang in the air between them.

He could see it: the moment Bruce lost it. That blow had been so below the belt that Tony wouldn't have been surprised if Bruce Hulked Out now just to make a statement. "Monster…" he could barely hear the soft whisper, and at first he thought Bruce was calling him one. Wouldn't be inaccurate. But then Bruce nodded to himself and turned away to walk in the direction of the Green Room. Oh god…

"Bruce…"

"Fuck off, Tony."

"But—"

"I said fuck off!" Whirling around, his voice was more than a little bit Hulk's deep rasp. "I—" he faltered, looking wildly at Tony for a minute. "D-Don't come in, okay? I don't want to—just…give me a few hours." With that, he sprinted to the room and the roar of Hulk could be heard before the door slid shut.

Tony stared blankly at where Bruce had disappeared. "I—I'm sorry," he said to no one, because he meant it and he needed to say it, even if he'd say it again later.

I'm sorry…

xXx

He felt the right side of the bed sink around one-forty in the morning. The air was saturated with the smell of alcohol and self-loathing. He hadn't drank too much; a few months with Bruce telling stories of his father's alcoholism was enough to keep Tony from ever drinking into oblivion again. Just another thing Bruce gave him that he couldn't return. But he'd still had enough. He felt Bruce crawl in and he didn't know what to think.

He knew what to think when Bruce's arm draped across his side and a face that was still wet with tears pressed against his back. He stayed…he didn't leave. I don't deserve him. I'm such a bastard; cruel, unfeeling, miserable, stupid—

"I love you."

Tony let out a strangled half-whimper.

"I wish I could get it through your thick skull that I'm not going anywhere unless you send me. But, I'm not really one to talk. I've only just started to get over the same thing with you. So…let's not send each other away, okay?" Tony felt Bruce's arm tighten around him. "It'll be like a science-bro club pact or something."

Tony laugh-sobbed and turned to face Bruce, though it was too dark to see him. "Seriously, Bruce. You're fucked in the head if you're sticking this out. I'm a stubborn asshole. This is going to happen a lot, probably. I'd rather not put you though all my crap when there are legions of other people you can be happier with." Leave me but don't leave me…

"When has anyone ever said I was sane? My alter-ego is a green rage monster. I do experiments on myself for punishment more than I do for actual science. I can't look people in the eye and I almost pass out with overstimulation when I'm in crowds. Where in those things do you find not 'fucked-in-the-head'." He smiled when Tony smiled a little and leaned forward to kiss Bruce. "I know you're a stubborn asshole. I think it's part of the reason you stick around despite my crap."

A more comfortable silence settled.

Tony knew that this was unprecedented. They weren't very far in their relationship, and thus far, Tony had been the dominant one in their lovemaking. That's what it was. It was him proving his love because he was awful with expressing it any other way. But right now…he felt like he was going to fall apart if Bruce didn't hold him together. A few months back he had acknowledged to himself that he would do anything for Bruce. He was going to put that into practice now.

"Bruce, can—I want…will you stay with me?" he didn't ask the question he was going for.

"You know I will."

"Then...can you—" He almost growled at his pathetic inability to say this. He could ask crudely, Bruce, I'd like you to fuck me. But that wasn't what he wanted to ask for. He wanted the knowledge that Bruce wasn't going anywhere. He wanted that and Bruce's love burned into his mind and his skin because if he didn't, this was going to happen again. And again, and again, and again. He was going to cut this off at the source. He'd been burdened and burdened Bruce enough with this fear of people leaving. It would crop up now and then, he was sure, but he was not going to let this be something that got in their way.

"I need you to love me."

It was said with conviction, and perhaps because of that, Bruce knew what he meant. He felt only a few moments' pause, before Bruce moved in the darkness that was broken only by the arc reactor's blue light. "Okay." Bruce said quietly. "Okay…" Hands came to frame his face and Bruce stroked his thumbs across the high cheekbones under his eyes. His fingers wandered, almost as if memorizing his face in the dark, across his nose that had been broken more times than he could count, and brushed against his jawline. Tony concentrated on the sensation of Bruce's callused hands. He thought he could feel tiny scars from numerous needles and roughing it in other countries, but then Bruce leaned down to kiss him. It was slow, and vaguely hesitant, but Tony felt like Bruce was pouring himself, and all his love, into Tony's mouth with this kiss. His hands came up around Bruce's back and pulled them together, not letting any space separate them.

Bruce's hands slid down to Tony's sides, lightly running up and down, creating goosebumps on Tony's skin when he shivered. Their lips disconnected so that Bruce could move them to his ear. "Thank you." And Tony knew he was thanking him for the trust he was putting in Bruce. To have someone was one thing, but for them to have him was entirely another. For him, trust was not often given. And for Bruce, trust was not often received. But Tony trusted Bruce, and he knew that the gesture couldn't be lost on his lover.

Now he sensed those lips moving down to lave at his neck, tracing veins and his pulse point until it quickened under the ministrations. Bruce crawled to brace himself over Tony; letting his weight rest against him, but not press him down. Their hips began a steady rhythm that was familiar, but so different in this context. Each undulation was altogether new for Tony, because it wasn't about taking or having or a desire to reach the breaking point as soon as possible. Bruce didn't rush, he just let the friction of their bodies speak an old language that was long engraved into humanity.

His mouth was claimed again, tongues gliding, before the physicist smiled and kissed each eyelid and shifted further down Tony's body. He pressed open-mouthed kisses along Tony's chest, his abdomen and hips, to the inner thighs that quivered just a little with the tension and a hint of trepidation. Tony sucked in a sharp breath and let it out on a moan when Bruce bit very lightly at the underside of his knee, an odd erogenous spot that only Pepper had ever known about, and had very rarely ever paid any attention to. Bruce exhaled shakily against his leg as he moved back up and kissed his hip once more. He looked up at Tony for a moment, not asking permission, because Tony had already given it, and to ask again would embarrass him. He looked just to see the expression that didn't really need words even if it could be described with them. He reached a hand to Tony's face and the taller man leaned into it for a few seconds.

Bruce swiftly leaned down and took Tony into his mouth, almost to the base, reveling in the awaited part-scream-part-moan that Tony couldn't stifle had he wanted to. He didn't have as much control as Bruce had in the club a few months back. His hands threaded into Bruce's hair, the silkiness of the brown curls tickling his palms and he felt a pang of guilt until Bruce hummed and his hips bucked up without permission. Bruce pushed his pelvis back down, relaxing his throat against the gag reflex and taking his lover deeper. Tony was nearly a babbling mess before his hands tightened and weakly tried to pull Bruce away. "Whoa…" he tried to pant out, and Bruce complied, knowing what Tony wanted. He kissed Tony's stomach once more before going back to his neck.

"Where is—"

"Drawer next to the bed," came the immediate answer. He grinned a little, wondering if Tony didn't like hearing explicit wording as much as he liked saying them. Another day, then.

Tony squeezed his eyes shut when he felt Bruce gently prepare him. Even in this…even when Tony could feel the heat of his lover's arousal pressed against his, even now, Bruce was careful with him, and it burned behind his eyelids.

And then when he was brought to the edge and back twice, nearly keening for release, Bruce slid into him and the feeling of fullness…was this what he had been missing? All those times he bedded another nameless, faceless man or woman, was this was he had been giving up?

He burst into tears.

Bruce froze, thinking he had hurt Tony, and his hand immediately came up to brush at Tony's tears. He was batted away and Tony just shook his head, still crying. "What the hell?" he managed between sobs. "What the fuck is wrong with me?"

"Tony? Tony, what's wrong?" Bruce didn't know what to do. He leaned down to kiss Tony, trying to comfort him, and Tony's mouth drank him in like he had never even known what water was in the first place. Had never known he needed it.

Tony could hear himself saying something, and it wasn't until Bruce kissed him again and said, "I know, I'm sorry too. I love you," that he knew what he'd said. He repeated it once more, and Bruce chuckled, until the movement of his laughter made Tony moan. With another searing kiss, Bruce rocked against him and words were no longer necessary when their love was better expressed with action.

Bruce lay sleeping against him, head on Tony's arm that had long since become numb. Tony traced his features with his eyes and his hands, as Bruce had done. It was like not seeing a hurricane coming straight for you. He felt like an idiot, but he was so, so glad he had seen in in time, at least. How did I not notice?

It would happen again, he knew that. Couples fought. Couples with Tony as one of the pair more than fought. But next time, the words wouldn't be as poisonous. And the next time, the anger wouldn't be as crippling. And the time after however many tries it took to get this right, maybe their fights wouldn't be focused on wounding, but working something out. And Bruce would stick with him through that process.

He fell asleep with the bitter tang of angry words and the sweet aftertaste of apology, forgiveness, and Bruce's mouth on his tongue.

They'd make it through this.

Read and Review! -sobs- Why do I do this to you lovely readers? I promise the next one will be happy and wonderful. No more angst for me! Props if you not only spot the references later used in BSaWN, but also to the third chapter of this fic (FPaCN). I need your reviews like the body needs the poly-subprotein known as laminin to stay glued together.

To AvengersAreAwesome- Gods PLEASE sign in or send me your email or SOMETHING! Your reviews are always amazing, and I don't like not being able to answer your questions because I have nowhere to send it. xD In response to your question, my headcanon will be revealed in a future chapter. ;) And it includes your second request of team interaction.