"Jarvis, windows."

Light flooded the room as the windows faded from opaque to translucent.

"Mornin', Sleeping Beauty!"

Bruce groaned. "What the hell, Tony."

"Get dressed. We're doing shit today."

As Bruce put a pillow over his head, Tony made out the muffled words, "What're we doing?"

"Shit," Tony repeated.

"I got that part. Still doesn't tell me anything."

"I know. Now, get up, get dressed, whatever."

"Five more minutes," the scientist whined.

Tony cracked a smile and climbed onto the bed until he was straddling the other man. "I could use a good five minutes."

Bruce groaned again and lifted the pillow from his face, blinking at the blinding light. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Waking you up," Tony beamed.

"What time is it?"

"It is currently five minutes past ten AM, sir," Jarvis answered. He sounded cheery.

"Shit." Bruce rubbed his eyes.

Tony nodded. "I came home and you were asleep."

"I kind of... fell asleep early. Fuck, it's been..." He did the calculations quickly in his head. "Fifteen hours."

Tony frowned. "You feelin' okay, buddy?" He touched Bruce's forehead.

"Yeah," Bruce reassured. The Hulk had given a remarkable boost to his immune system, so sickness was pretty rare. "Research still wasn't going great, and I needed to calm down."

"You want to talk-"

"How was your meeting?" Bruce interrupted.

Tony furrowed his brow. "Uh, good, good. We, uh, well, I'll tell you later. Get ready. We leave in thirty." Tony got up and began walking back toward the door.

"Minutes?"

"No, seconds." Tony mused. "Of course, minutes. You know, for a genius, you're pretty slow in the morning."

Bruce eventually got up, showered, and pulled on some clothes so he'd look halfway decent; he didn't really know what to dress for. He looked in the mirror at the scruffiness that was starting to take over his face and decided it wasn't worth a shave today. Tony would just have to deal. Passing the full body mirror, he stopped and faced it. He looked... a little homeless. Not that the look was foreign to him – hell, he'd been homeless on multiple occasions – but how was it possible to still look like that in clothes bought by a billionaire? Maybe it was worth a shave... but he hadn't the time. Bruce walked into the elevator before he realized he was barefoot. Did he need socks? Not really. Might as well complete the homeless look while he was at it.

Tony was sitting on the lobby couch when Bruce came down. He looked up and grinned widely. "Cute. It's like homeless chic."

"Thanks," Bruce said sarcastically. Tony hadn't exactly given him an abundance of time.

Then Tony announced that he was taking Bruce on a date. "It's been a while," he claimed.

Bruce's heart fluttered for some odd reason. "A date?" Okay, he was definitely not dressed for that sort of thing.

"Yeah, that's that thing people do when they're dating. You know, other than the bedroom stuff, of course." Tony waggled his eyebrows.

"Oh, I'm sorry; I didn't know." Bruce approached the couch and leaned down so he could touch his lips to Tony's. "Perhaps you should catch me up on the details then." Yeah, Bruce could flirt. Sort of.

This was totally making up for yesterday; Tony felt much more content. "I'm a very good teacher. The best." Familiar ego somewhat restored. But then he caught sight of Bruce's hand, which was wrapped up in, what was that, an ACE bandage? Tony thought he was the only one using them. He caught the wounded appendage gently and pushed up Bruce's sleeve; his brow furrowed as he looked up. "What's this?"

Bruce quickly began pushing his sleeve back down. "Oh, nothing. Just lab stuff." He forced a awkward chuckle.

"Lab stuff..." Tony muttered as he began examining Bruce's arm; he considered unraveling the bandage. "What kinda lab stuff?"

Bruce sighed and looked pleadingly at him. "I got... mad, okay? I mean, not really mad, but more than the 'I'm always angry' kind of mad. It's fine, though. I just wrapped it up again, just in case."

"In case of what? Your injuries are more temporary than mine."

With a smile – well, more like a grimace – Bruce said meekly, "I'm just paranoid?"

Tony shook his head and said almost too quietly, "No, you're not. You wanted a reminder."

Bruce huffed a dry laugh and sarcastically replied, "You know me too well." Which he did, in fact, know Bruce that well – even though it'd technically only been a few months since they'd first met. That was the weird part.

Pulling at the edge of the cloth, Tony began to remove the covering, without protest from the scientist. "Maybe because you're like me. Or maybe because you're a terrible liar." A genuine grin grew on his lips.

"Only with you." Bruce raised a small smile back at him. "And would you look at that, good as new." He flexed his fingers and carded them through Tony's hair. "So... date?"

"Absolutely." Tony ogled him with a look of what Bruce cautiously identified as adoration. But even then he couldn't be sure.

Bruce retrieved and shrugged on his jacket. He adjusted the collar of Tony's. As they were about to step into the elevator, Bruce started to reach for the closet door again to grab his duffel bag, always prepared for the worst. Tony, noticing this, grabbed his hand, gave it a little squeeze and said, "Don't worry, you won't need that anymore."

Bruce started to stutter, " Bu- but you never know, I should always be ready."

Tony swiftly replied "Like I said, don't worry. No matter where you go I will always come looking for you, I will always find you, and you will always have a home. It's a 'Mi casa es su casa' kind of a thing."

Bruce didn't really know how to respond to that. There was an awkward pause, but only a moment before Tony interjected with, "So, I thought we could take the Audi over there," he suggested. "Or would you prefer a different car?"

"Actually... I was going to ask if we could walk."

"Hmm, yeah, I guess we could do that." He smiled. "If you want."

"It is pretty nice outside..."

Tony had already laced their fingers together, and Bruce was suddenly worrying that his hand was sweaty or he was holding on too tight or not tight enough or that his arm...

He was worrying over holding hands. Seriously?

Now he felt just like a lovestruck teenager – inexperienced and relatively unloved, and then along came that guy with the cool attitude and a personal vendetta against the system and a calendar with different ways to have sex. And he'd done all of them. Thankfully, Tony interrupted his thoughts.

"So, I was thinking Sushi of Gari. You like sushi, right?"

"Umm, yeah, but isn't that a little...expensive?" Bruce scuffed his feet against the floor.

Tony gave him an 'Are you kidding me?' kind of a look.

"Right, yeah, I know..." Bruce scratched the back of his neck.

"You're gonna haveta get used to that, babe." Tony grinned at him. Wow, did he just make another undertone of commitment? This was nothing like his usual self, but it wasn't weird because it was Bruce. Not only that, but it was intentional, and like, truthful.

Just then the silver doors fwooped open, and Tony stepped out, leading Bruce through the pearly white glow from the marble lobby floors and outside to meet the late morning sun.

"I would think you'd know how to use chopsticks."

"I always ask for a fork." Tony shrugged, attempting to pick up another roll.

"You have terrible form." Bruce snickered.

Tony rolled his eyes. "Why thank you, Mr. Cultured."

"No problem." Bruce watched Tony try and failed again to pick up an egg roll. "You sure you don't want help?"

"Nah, I think I figured it out." He stabbed the roll with the chopsticks, but it promptly flew from his plate and landed on the floor next to their table.

Bruce took the chopsticks from him. "Here." He adjusted Tony's fingers accordingly. "You hold this one like a pencil. With a clamp here. There is the fulcrum. And you bring it together like this. Got it?"

Tony nodded and winked at him. "Thanks, babe." He picked up the rice ball perfectly and shoved it into his mouth.

"You dirty liar," Bruce mumbled with a tilt of his lips.

"Oh, now I'm dirty. I like the sound of that, actually." Tony grinned as a few silent moments passed between them. "So, I was thinking..."

"Oh no, not again," Bruce teased.

"Hey, let me finish! I was thinking, maybe we should get a pet or something. Someone besides J-Man to keep you company."

Bruce shrugged. "I don't know if that's the best idea," he muttered, poking at his food with his chopsticks. "Besides, Dummy and U are always there."

"They don't count. Come on, Green Bean. You need someone when I'm away at conferences and shit."

"I'm pretty used to being alone," Bruce said with a strained smile.

Tony rolled his eyes. "I know that, but that doesn't mean you should be alone all the time. And it's not like I'm asking if Steve can do some work with you; I was thinking more like a cat."

Bruce raised his eyebrows, inquisitively. "You like cats?"

Tony grinned. "You kidding? I love cats!"

"So, why didn't you get a cat? Like, before?"

"Pepper wouldn't let me," Tony pouted. "She thought I'd kill it or maim it somehow."

Bruce chuckled; that sounded about right. "Alright, well, as much as I'd like..." Bruce trailed off, unsure of how to verbalize his thought. "We'd have to get it... declawed; I don't wanna risk a simple scratch turning into a biohazard."

Tony nodded. "Okay." He smiled with a twitch of his eyebrows. Bruce was totally going along with his idea.

After leaving the restaurant, the two of them began walking around until they were standing somewhere in Central Park when Tony stopped, turned to face Bruce, and pulled him into the grass so that people could pass by. "Tell me something about you. I wanna know everything."

"You already know everything important."

"Well, I want to know every single insignificant detail. I want to know how you like your sandwiches sliced – because triangles taste better, but everyone's entitled to a wrong opinion – and what you think of string theory and what was your first kiss like and why is it when I hold your hand, you move your thumb in circles over the dorsum of mine?"

Bruce's eyes widened with curiosity and he looked down at their adjoined hands. Sure enough, he was doing that thing with his thumb. He grinned sheepishly. "And what if I can't come up with good answers?"

"Then I'll keep asking until you can. Here, ask me something." Tony clapped his hands together and gave him a 'come at me' gesture.

Bruce's mouth twisted in thought as he decided on a question. "What's your favorite color?"

Tony chuckled at the simplicity of his question. "Maybe red. Or blue. No, no, chartreuse. That's a color, right? I like the way it sounds." He leaned in. "The way it feels on my lips." His lips met Bruce's. "What's your favorite color?" He murmured close to Bruce's mouth.

Bruce grinned sheepishly and thought about how they were still in a public place, no matter how few people were around. This was beyond atypical for him, yet it didn't seem to matter. "Would it be horrible if I said green?"

Stark smirked. "I like green."

"Well, that's good I guess, but it's not green."

"What is it then?"

"I don't know, purple?"

"You look good in purple. And most other colors. Except for orange, that you look terrible in. But I think you look best in nothing " Tony whispered in his ear. "At all."

"You really want to know why I do the thing with my thumb?" Bruce asked softly, clearing his throat a bit.

Tony hummed in agreement, trailing kisses down the side of Bruce's throat while slowly embracing him.

"Well, it's mostly instinctual, but I have a thing for circles."

Looking at him with inquisition, Tony asked, "You have a thing for circles?"

With a slight tilt of his lips, Bruce gazed downward and nodded. "Yeah."

"What does that mean?" Tony's nose nudged at Bruce's stubble-ridden jaw.

"Circles are... comforting," he said carefully. "They follow a perpetual pattern, with a center and shape but no sides to be fooled by and no sharp edge to harm you. Circles are the same measure from every angle you look. There's no deception. A personal bubble."

Tony smiled at him. "That's cute."

Bruce chuckled softly. "It's math."

"Whatever you say, Robert Frost."

His cheeks flushing, Bruce turned his head as if to say, 'I'm no poet.'

"See, now that's definitely a good color on you."

"What is? This?" Confused, Banner gestured to his black jacket.

"Actually, I was talking about the pink in your cheeks. It's cute."

Bruce's blush deepened. "...thanks."

Tony grinned and kissed Bruce on a flushed cheek; his lips were gelid now, which made Bruce realize just how chilly the air had become already.

"Are you cold?"

Tony nodded, folding his arms over his chest and shivering despite himself as the frigid wind picked up a bit. Bruce curved an arm around Tony's waist, pulling him in from the side so they could start walking again. He held tight, trying to transfer some of his warmth to Tony, whose heat was somewhat limited by the metal in his chest.

And boy was Bruce warm. At least in comparison to Tony. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Simultaneously retain and give off heat. You're like a radiator."

"Why, too warm?"

"No no, perfect." Tony snuggled even closer.

"Quite possibly one of the more fortunate side effects of my, err, accident."

Tony frowned and said with an edge of doubt, "Whenever you say accident, I think mistake."

"Well, it was a mistake." Because how could it not have been?

"But if you hadn't made it, we probably would've never met," Stark countered.

Banner was silent for a moment, thinking it over. "That's true," he conceded, finally. "We probably wouldn't have."