[I apologize for being a day late. Even though I love reading it, intense romance scenes are difficult for me to focus on, especially since my mind keeps urging me to braid my hair and look up what my favorite color says about me during my late-night writing sessions. Yay for a very short attention span!
I actually intended to finish this chapter last night around eleven-ish, type it up and edit it, and post it before what would be one this morning. Of course, what happens? A David Tennant Youtube Marathon happens, that's what! So, in other words, nothing got accomplished until it was one. So, yeah. A very long explanation for what could've easily been summed up as, "I'm a professional procrastinator."]
"Do you ever want to go back?"
Bruce glanced up from his work, a little worried by Tony's tone. He wasn't talking with his normal gusto. No, he sounded almost… worried, nervous. Even his eyes seemed to say the same thing.
Something was haunting Tony Stark, and Bruce wanted to destroy whatever it was.
"Tony, are you alright?" he asked, trying not to sound overly concerned. Not as concerned as he felt, that is. He was incredibly worried, but Tony already looked like a cornered animal. He didn't want to freak him out any more.
"I-I'm fine," he said, his voice cracking like dried twigs. All of his defenses, all of his cocky hyperness, was gone, and he sounded like a kicked puppy. "Just answer my question."
Sighing, too worried to even move towards his friend for fear of him shutting down, Bruce pointed out, "I'm not even sure what 'back' you're referring to!"
"S.H.I.E.L.D., I meant," Tony said, mussing up his slicked back hair with his fingers. "Do you want to return to Fury?"
Hesitant—he was sure there was an answer that Tony wanted specifically, he just didn't know exactly what it was—he asked, "Why?"
"Just answer me, please!" He was begging, and Bruce could tell Tony was severely distressed. It almost looked like a panic attack.
Quickly, trying to soothe his best friend into relaxation, he made his way over, making sure to keep eye contact as he placed his hand on Tony's shoulder. The genius's eyes slid shut, and he began trembling uncontrollably. Okay, Bruce noted as Tony had to gasp with every breath, he's definitely having a panic attack. Even though he had his own set of attacks, he didn't have the slightest idea how he could help his friend. Usually his ended with him turning big and green.
Deciding the best thing to do was make a little more contact—by reaching down and taking Tony's right hand in his left—and answer his question, he told him truthfully, "Not particularly." Taking in a deep breath, he added, "I mean, if you want for me to leave, I will—" he sincerely doubted this was the case, but he didn't want to assume—"and I will most definitely return if you are as well. But, if I had a choice, I would like to stay here."
"I don't believe you," Tony managed to whisper between his ragged breaths, his eyes closed shut. "You have a good job there. Fury likes you. A lot." Opening his eyes, he asked in a strained voice, "What is keeping you here?"
There was fear in his eyes, and that's when Bruce developed that Tony was afraid of him leaving, which sparked the panic attack.
His stomach clenched, fear and hope battling for control over his emotions. No, it couldn't be because of that.
Forcing a smile onto his face—trying to disguise the battle going on in his mind—he shifted both of his hands to Tony's face, keeping them firm so he knew he was serious. "For beginners, Fury is an asshole." Even while he was still trembling, Tony very audibly snorted, and Bruce's smile began leaking into his voice. "I don't trust him, so I'd be happy to be anywhere else." Tacking on a sincere smile—this one, honestly, wasn't forced—he added, "And, also, I would miss you. I'm so used to being around you every day, I think I would feel like someone chopped off a vital limb or something."
Making a confused face, Tony asked, "Aren't all limbs vital?"
Laughing, Bruce responded, "You know what I mean. But, I'm being serious. I wouldn't mind returning if you were coming with me, but you're really the only person I've connected with at S.H.I.E.L.D., and it would be pretty ridiculous being there if you weren't with me."
That was as close to a confession as Bruce could bring himself.
As it dawned on Tony what Bruce was saying, he relaxed, his shoulders sagging with relief. For a moment, all he did was take a few deep breaths, but when he finally moved, he took Bruce into a giant bear hug, wrapping his arms around Bruce's waist and nestling his face into his shoulder, clinging to him as if he hadn't seen him in forever. As he had moved forward, Bruce's hands slipped from his face and he wrapped his arms around Tony's neck, praying that Tony couldn't feel his racing heartbeat from their close proximity.
It was comfortable, so comfortable, and Bruce didn't want to ever move.
"Sorry," Tony said into his neck, holding their positions for nearly a minute before he lifted his head. When he did, a nervous smile took over his face, one that was innocent in a way that made Bruce's heart decide to run a marathon. "I normally don't… you know, freak out around, um, people. I'm really sor—" He cut off as he caught Bruce's eyes, suddenly focusing all of his attention on them, studying them.
Almost sounding dumbfounded, he uttered, "Your eyes are dilated."
A startled Bruce felt his heart stop, and he barely had enough time for his brain to register what was happening when a sober Tony's lips were on his, persistent in finding confirmation of what he had seen.
Bruce was too emotionally overwhelmed to be able to remember he was not supposed to be doing this.
All he could keep thinking was, This is real. This is really happening. Tony's not drunk and we're kissing. This. Is. Real. Until he couldn't think anymore.
The kiss was hot, fiery, needy. They were fighting for dominance, pulling each other closer with whatever they could latch their hands onto, trying for every part of their body to touch, to feel each other.
Bruce was drowning in fire and passion, and he couldn't find the ability to care. It was too perfect to care.
Tony released his lips, gasping up air. Bruce found he was too intoxicated by lust to move his head from where it was, so Tony took it as an opportunity to rest his head against Bruce's, their breath tickling each other's face.
It was when Tony's lips found Bruce's again that a very loud roar echoed through Bruce's mind.
Bruce didn't even have time to wonder what Tony would think, but he was already out the door when that thought briefly occurred to him. It was quickly forgotten in his race to get out. He had to be a safe distance from Tony's house before the Other Guy took over if he was going to keep him safe and Pepper safe.
There was no stopping the Other Guy this time, so Bruce didn't even waste time on that helpless task. No, he just took off running.
Thankfully, Tony's house didn't have many floors, and he was only one above from the main, so Bruce was able to escape quickly, running as far as he could. And equally as lucky, they were the only people for several miles; there were plenty of secluded spaces to release the Other Guy without disturbing everyone. Once he located one—a clearing in the middle of a wooded area—he let all of his defenses against his monster go, letting his last thought be, I hope Tony can forgive me, as his consciousness turned green and disappeared altogether.
[I think it's official; I'm never happy with my kissing scenes. :\ Hopefully you guys disagree with me.]
