Tony woke up just before seven in the morning, feeling suddenly wide awake. His mind whirled for a moment before he remembered why he felt so agitated.

The day before had been a big day.

What exactly had happened? Oh yeah, he'd gotten a new roommate, realized he was in love with said roommate, and that he wasn't of the sexual orientation he'd always presumed to be. He'd started the day thinking that only one of those things was going to happen, and he'd gotten a lot more than he'd expected. Keeping that in mind, he had no idea at all what this new day would have in store for him.

Maybe I'll be adopted by an elderly Korean couple, or I'll discover the moon really is made of cheese. One really can't be sure about these things anymore, Tony thought as he pulled on a shirt, the cloth snagging and then slipping over his arc reactor.

Once he was fully dressed he stumbled from his room in search of coffee. He found it in the usual spot, and once he'd drunk some the room seemed significantly less wobbly.

"Good stuff," Tony mumbled into his mug and sat down at the bar. He took a moment to look around the quiet penthouse.

Bruce must still be sleeping, he thought. That wasn't unreasonable. Tony didn't usually get up this early either.

Tony headed down to his lab to pass the time until he felt like making breakfast. He was working on a new Iron Man suit to replace the one the Chitauri had smashed up. He could have repaired the old one easily, but why do that when there was always a better model to be made? He didn't think he'd ever stop upgrading the Iron Man suit.

He'd made a few major tweaks and adjustments when his coffee ran dry and he felt hunger clawing at him. He looked at his watch; 8:43. He would have usually been up by now, so he rode back up in the elevator, wondering if Bruce was awake yet.

He arrived to a penthouse just as quiet and empty as it had been when he'd left. He went to the kitchen and opened the fridge, staring indecisively at its contents. He didn't want to make breakfast yet if Bruce still wasn't up. Since he had admitted to being awful at cooking, Tony had sort of decided to always do it for him. Obviously Bruce had gotten by alright on his own for all those years, he wasn't emaciated or anything, but it was one of the few outlets Tony had for his secret affection.

Making all his meals. It's like I'm his doting wife or something, Tony thought. Wait, is that sexist? Also, don't picture yourself in a frilly apron. Don't. Don't. DO-! Damn it… I look fabulous.

Tony slapped at his cheeks, trying to stop the bizarre train of thought that was getting away from him. He closed the fridge, which he'd been holding uselessly open for much longer than he should have. Then he remembered that he really was hungry, and opened it again. He grabbed an apple just to have something. Then he poured himself more coffee.

He sipped his coffee and crunched his apple as slowly as possible, looking anywhere to keep himself from staring at Bruce's closed bedroom door. The minutes ticked by, and by the time his cup was once again empty and his apple down to the core, it was after 9:30

Bruuuuuuuuce, Tony whined silently, collapsing head down on the bar. I'm so hungry, why won't you let me eat? Although really he knew it was himself keeping him from making breakfast. Bruce would have been completely confused by Tony's behavior.

"You didn't have to wait for me," Tony could imagine Bruce saying.

"I wanted to," Tony growled out loud. Finally it occurred to him that he could at least get started on breakfast in the mean time. If Bruce still wasn't awake by the time it was done…well, Tony would have no choice but to go in there and wake him up.

Sure enough, when Tony was done cooking, Bruce's door had still yet to budge.

Okay, Tony steeled himself. Go time. He turned the knob and eased Bruce's door open slowly, not sure why he was being so quiet when the point was to wake him up.

When the door was completely open, light from the rest of the penthouse poured in from behind Tony and lit up the dark room, giving Tony a good view of the sleeping man in front of him.

Bruce was sprawled gently across the bed, his legs were stretched out and his arms spread out around his head. It was like he was trying to take up as much possible space as he could. His blankets were tossed away from his upper body, so Tony could see that he'd decided to wear some of the pajamas he had bought for him, and that, either he'd chosen not to button the shirt at all, or he'd somehow managed to undo each button in his sleep. The exposed skin drew Tony's eyes.

Am I honestly reacting to the sight of his bare chest right now? Tony asked himself. Yeeeessssss, his mind responded to him. He couldn't help it. Bruce was just in such good shape, and his chest hair had the same salt-and-pepper that his curls had, and Tony loved Bruce's hair.

Huh. I've never been aroused by chest hair before, Tony thought to himself. It was a little bit odd, but it made sense that his new found bisexuality and his life long identity as a straight man wouldn't be perfectly resolved right away. There was still a part of his brain saying that it was weird to be attracted to masculine things, despite the clear evidence that he was.

Shut up brain, I'm enjoying this, he said to his annoying social programming. Alarm shot through him right then as he realized that he was standing in Bruce's room, checking him out while he slept.

What am I doing? Tony balked, horrified with himself. I have reached major creeper status! I only came in here to wake him up! But now that he was there he wasn't sure how to do it. He took a hesitant step closer to the bed, but was frozen when he looked at Bruce's sleeping face.

His head was turned into his pillow, showing Tony his profile framed by the curls that had become messy in his sleep. His lips were ever so slightly parted and his eyelashes looked longer than they did when he was awake. He looked so…pretty.

Oh God, this is too much for me, Tony thought. There was also something sort of sad about how relaxed Bruce looked, how lines of worry had disappeared from him.

I wish he looked like this when he was awake… Tony thought. Seeing him without it made Tony realized how much weight he must carry around with him each day. Tony had to stifle a sigh, looking at Bruce's sad, beautiful face.

I'll just let him sleep, Tony finally decided. He'd feed him whenever he woke up, whatever he wanted. Tony had just turned to walk out when a sleepy voice stopped him.

"Tony…wcha d'n here?" Bruce mumbled, sounding oddly happy.

"Oh…I was…" Tony hadn't expected him to wake up, and it was kind of hard to form thoughts while Bruce was looking at him with that sleepy, half-lidded smile.

"I came to see if you were awake. I made breakfast," he finally managed to say.

"Oh, thnk y…" Bruce said, shifting onto his side and snuggling into his pillow.

Shouldn't be legal, Tony thought.

"So…do you want it?" Tony asked, a little confused. Bruce had closed his eyes again. He'd seemed barely conscious to begin with.

"Ys," he said by way of an affirmation. "Whadja make me?" Bruce asked, eyes still closed.

I don't think he knows what he's saying, Tony realized. Bruce tended to be relentlessly polite, and even that slight hint of entitlement in his question seemed like something he wouldn't say. The last time Tony had seen Bruce with his guard down, he'd been looking at the Hulk. As much as he liked the Hulk, he liked this even better.

"Come to the kitchen and see," he said, not able to help his own smile.

"…nooo…" Bruce moaned into his pillow.

"Come on. Get up!"

"Uhhgh, Tony I don't want to," Bruce said, sounding slightly more awake.

"It's after ten," Tony told him.

"What!" Bruce yelped, rocketing upwards. He looked around like he was surprised to be there. He grabbed the blanket that rested on top of him, and after feeling it for a moment he seemed to remember that he was in the Tower, and that he was supposed to be there. When he'd settled, he looked down at himself.

"What happened to my shirt?" he asked, puzzled.

So he did unbutton it in his sleep, Tony thought.

"I don't know, but you should get dressed. By the time you eat breakfast it'll be time for lunch."

Bruce smiled sheepishly at him. "Sorry," he said, and got out of bed. Tony took that as his queue to leave the room and let Bruce change.

When Bruce came out and met Tony in the kitchen he was wearing the purple shirt he'd worn the day they met and a pair of the pants Tony had bought him. He had tamed his hair back as well, which came as a slight disappointment as well as a relief to Tony. He'd loved seeing those curls all loose and wild, but that only made it harder to resist running his hands through them. It was better this way.

"Are you just going to keep cooking for me?" Bruce asked when he sat down at the bar.

"Yes," Tony said, glad to have that established. "And if you so much as utter the words 'you don't have to' I am going to lock you in the Hulk room."

Bruce took that in stride. "Hey, I still haven't seen the Hulk room," he said.

"You're right," Tony realized, thinking about it. "I really didn't give you much of a tour yesterday. I'll show you around today."

"Sounds great," Bruce smiled before taking a bite of the omelet Tony had made him. After his first bite he looked down at it, then back up at Tony, tears of gratitude practically brimming in his eyes. "Seriously. How do you do this?"

Tony laughed. "I think your years of burnt curry and other travesties have made you easily impressed."

"That may very well be true. Thank you all the same though," Bruce said, and dug back into his food.

When they were done and their dishes were in the sink, they headed to the elevator and Tony pushed the appropriate button to take them to the Hulk room.

It was a big empty space. The same indestructible material had been used to make the walls and floor and ceiling, although Tony had them painted different colors. It had seemed too eerie other wise. It was now different shades of blue. He'd considered using green, but he hadn't thought Bruce would appreciate the joke…

Bruce walked slowly through it, a darkness in his eyes as he inspected it. There was that weight again, back on his shoulders. He ran his hand along the walls, looked up at the ceiling, stared hard at the corners. Tony wasn't sure what exactly he was determining.

"This is all perfect," Bruce said, not managing to sound happy about it. "Thank you,"

"The least I could do," Tony said, even though it had taken millions to build. He wasn't telling Bruce that though. "I installed cameras too…I thought it might be necessary at some point to see inside here with out going in. Also you can record yourself and watch it later…"

"Thank you, that could be useful."

Just minutes ago he'd been so cheerful. And now he was so grim. It was breaking Tony's mechanical heart.

"So um…want the rest of the tour?" Tony asked, wanting to get out of that room.

Bruce smiled weakly at him, as if realizing how his mood was affecting Tony. "Sure," he said.

Tony took him to all the different labs and showed him them their specialties; the LMD lab, the clean energy lab, and one of Tony's personal favorites, the laser lab (not being used for weapons, of course, but cool none the less.) There were more than that, but Bruce was most interested in seeing Tony's own personal lab.

The look on Bruce's face when he stepped into Tony's lab did a lot to make up for his unhappiness in the Hulk room.

"This is incredible," he whispered, looking about the room in awe. He walked over to the latest Iron Man suit that was Tony's work in progress.

"You're making another one," he said.

"Correct," Tony told him. "This one will be able to function in space."

Bruce smiled. "So I won't have to catch you again?"

"I thought the Hulk did that," Tony said. Bruce had insisted over and over again that what had taken place during the battle had been the Hulk's actions, and that Tony should stop trying to talk to him about it, because he didn't remember anything.

Bruce frowned. "That he did. And I still don't know why. I knew that he would smash what needed smashing, and hoped that he would avoid doing the same to you guys, but I never thought he'd purposefully help you like that."

"See. I told you he's not all bad."

"Maybe. But one good deed doesn't make up for an entire existence of destruction."

"Says you," Tony frowned. "Speaking as the recipient of that one good deed, I think my life counts for an awful lot."

"I didn't mean to say it didn't…of course your life counts," Bruce said, frowning.

"And the Hulk saw that," Tony said pointedly.

"For all we know the Hulk only caught you because your armor was shiny," Bruce said dismissively.

"I saw him when I woke up," Tony insisted. "You looked- I mean, he looked…" he hadn't meant to slip up like that.

Bruce turned and glared at him. "We're not the same, Tony."

But was that really true? Tony wasn't sure it was. How could it be a coincidence that Tony, the one person that had been friendly to Bruce since his accident, was also the one person the Hulk had ever shown concern for? It was one of the ways Tony was trying to reconcile himself with "curing" Bruce. If the Hulk was gone, he wouldn't be truly destroyed, he'd live on in Bruce. But…Tony wasn't sure that Bruce could be cured as long as he waged this inner war against the Other Guy.

Bruce was approaching his condition as a medical problem. Tony saw it more as a psychological one. Unfortunately, that was not a science he was skilled at. And talk therapy didn't seem to be working, judging by the cross look on Bruce's face.

"I thought we were going to save this conversation for later," Bruce said.

"I'm not trying to talk you out of a cure. I'm just theorizing about the Hulk's true nature."

"I know his nature," Bruce said, his voice dark. This was not going how Tony had wanted it to go.

"I-…okay, sorry. I give up," he said, not wanting to upset Bruce more than he had.

Bruce's eyes widened, his anger replaced by sudden surprise.

"Really? You're just…letting it go? And apologizing?" he asked.

"Yes," Tony told him.

"But…but you never do that," Bruce said, speaking aptly.

Tony shrugged. "True. But who knows, if I keep arguing with you then you might turn big and green, and since you would apparently have zero regard for my safety, you might kill me."

Tony wished he hadn't said that. The words had come out so much harsher than he'd meant. He'd give anything to take them back, but he couldn't, and he couldn't take the hurt look out of Bruce's eyes.

"I wouldn't do that," Bruce insisted, sounding wounded. "I have more control than that, I…" he looked away shamefully.

Oh God. Tony wanted to throw himself at Bruce's feet and beg him to forgive him. He hadn't expected him to react that way. He hadn't really thought out his comment at all, but usually when he said things that biting people just got pissed at him. He was used to people being pissed at him. He could handle that, but not this.

"Bruce, I am so sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I was just… just being mean. And stupid. Don't let my stupidity make you feel bad." There. He'd managed to apologize with out completely freaking out.

But Bruce just looked at him with those big brown puppy eyes, and suddenly Tony's thoughts were going elsewhere. He wanted to still that slight trembling to Bruce's lips…

Don't think about kissing him right now! You don't deserve to kiss him, you're a jerk! Tony yelled at himself silently. Luckily for him Bruce looked away, his eyes to the floor.

"It's okay… I'm glad you didn't mean it," he said.

"Of course I didn't mean it." Tony couldn't stop himself, he put his hand on Bruce's arm. He tensed as soon as he did it, thinking that he shouldn't have, but Bruce seemed to appreciate it because he looked back up at Tony with a little smile.

"Okay…all is forgiven," he said.

"Thank you," Tony stressed, letting the relief show in his voice so that Bruce knew how sorry he really was.

"We should head to your lab now," Tony said. "That cure isn't going to develop itself," he said as a penance.

That made Bruce smile and helped Tony feel a little less worthless.

As they got back to work in Bruce's lab Tony resolved himself to working diligently. No more long, staring-at-Bruce breaks. He was going to work long and hard and tirelessly until-

"Tony, really, it's alright."

Tony looked up from the thirtieth slide he'd catalogued. Bruce was looking at him, a concerned look on his face.

"What do you m-"

"You don't have to work yourself to death just because of an off handed comment. Seriously."

Tony frowned down at his microscope. "But I feel so-"

"I am not that delicate, Tony," Bruce interrupted him for the second time, his voice firm. "You're sorry, I believe you, I'm over it. Just relax and stop acting like you're afraid to even look at me."

God he's spot on, Tony thought. He doesn't even realize how much. He felt silly for treating Bruce like he was made of glass. Of course he wasn't. He was the strongest person Tony had ever met, in more ways than one.

"Okay. You're right," he said to Bruce. Bruce smiled.

"Good," he said.

They worked for the next few minutes in silence, until Tony felt the urge to say something, extend a hand of friendship, just to prove they were back on steady ground.

"Hey…there's a gym a couple floors down. Wanna check it out after this?" He wasn't sure if Bruce was a fitness buff or anything, but he obviously kept healthy, and it seemed more up Bruce's alley than the arcade, or the other recreational options at the Tower. He figured Bruce wouldn't want to venture out anywhere, being the recluse that he was.

Bruce smiled, looking pleased by the offer.

"Sounds great. Exercise calms me down. I'm glad I'll be able to work out while I'm staying here."

Tony grinned to himself. Success, he thought. And then he spent the rest of their time working trying not to think about Bruce getting sweaty and exerting himself.

Ugh, Tony thought. You really can't remain appropriate for any stretch of time, can you? he asked himself.

But that was just who he was. He was inappropriate and bold, and sometimes he tripped and fell flat on his face for not being able to keep his mouth shut. But apparently Bruce could handle that. He hadn't gotten angry, or scoffed, or ignored him, he'd just…forgiven him. And then made sure that he forgave himself. What remained of Tony's heart swelled with emotion.

He didn't think anyone had ever done that for him before.

He was never going to hurt Bruce's feelings ever again. For as long as he lived.

Across from Tony at the work table Bruce looked over at him, glad that they'd made up. The idea that he would hurt Tony over a simple disagreement had upset him, but he had realized quickly that in his own snarky way, that had been the point Tony was trying to make. Tony didn't just expect Bruce to remain in control, but to not hurt him even if he did transform. He trusted him that strongly.

Bruce knew that he was supposed to be alarmed by that, that it was wrong for him to let Tony wander blindly into the lion's den, that he should make it clear to Tony that he wasn't safe with him no matter what, but…

He would never hurt Tony. He felt that deep down to his core.

Deep down to the Hulk inside.

Hello, it occurred to me that in a previous chapter I talk about Bruce's back story and use the Hulk origin story from the comics, instead of the one from the Incredible Hulk film which was also briefly mentioned in the Avenger's movie. I admit, I never saw the Incredible Hulk, and I don't think I ever will because I don't think anyone should play Bruce who isn't Mark Ruffalo, all respect to Edward Norton, but I realize that I'm taking a bit of a liberty as a fan writer by changing those details to suit me, so I hope nobody minded.