-Chapter 14: Coping Methods III: Final- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Tony wakes up at 3:36am with Bruce's breath tickling his neck and his arm locked around Tony's bare chest. On the floor, the inside of Tony's jacket pocket glows a bluish-green from the light of his smartphone. Howard, Tony remembers, trying to stretch his arm to the floor without waking Bruce. As his fingers skim the jacket's sleeve, last night comes back in full force. Flashes of Howard praising Steve intermingle with ones of Bruce moaning into Tony's neck, hot and disgusting all at once. Tony pulls his jacket closer. Bruce's lips around his cock; Howard's lips around a champagne glass. The phone case slips into his fingertips. Kissing, fucking, feeling, hating.

Tony. Where are you?
- H. Stark

Tony
- H. Stark

This is ridiculous. Answer your phone!
- H. Stark

U ok man?
-Steve

You just had to ruin it for everyone.
- H. Stark

sorry about ur dad. he wasn't being fair
-Steve

One night really is too much from you. I should have expected it. Steve just lost his father, and he still held it together better than you.
-H. Stark

There are twenty-three more messages from his father and two more from Steve that Tony deletes without reading. He kisses the top of Bruce's head instead, letting the strands of hair brush against his lips. Bruce's torso weighs down Tony's chest, chafing Tony's scars and compressing his lungs, but Tony needs something in his arms right now.

And Tony knows what he did to Bruce did was unfair. The one trait he'll admit to having inherited from Howard is his selfishness, and fucking Bruce to get over his Daddy Issues for a day is the exact type of narcissism that made Pepper never talk to him again. Tony recalls telling Jarvis the difference between Bruce and Pepper is that Tony didn't want to bone Banner. Breathing out a desperate laugh, Tony lets the back of his head fall flat against the pillow and away from Bruce's face. He has no idea what he'll tell Bruce in the morning about three hours from now. 'I fucked you to get over my father,' probably wouldn't go over too nicely.

Maybe Bruce will wake up first and leave or, at the very least, give Tony an opportunity to do so. No, Tony is not ditching Bruce—Bruce deserves more than that—but he isn't going to start dating him either. That's not an option. They're only sixteen. Friendship is more important at this age then romance, and the idea of being romantic with a guy makes Tony want to gag. Bruce, however, is probably all for it with the way he was spoiling Betty back when they were together. He had been so big on soppy gestures and cutesy nicknames that Tony had gotten legitimately pissed off whenever Bruce would even mention Betty's name for a period of time. That Bruce was not his Bruce, the level-headed pragmatist to Tony's opportunist. That Bruce was an obnoxious idiot who wouldn't give Tony the time of day. It was annoying. It still makes Tony clench his fists slightly.

Back on his phone, a blue light flashes on the screen with another message from Howard.

Don't bother coming home.
- H. Stark

Then, after a few more seconds:

Are you safe?
- H. Stark

It's a low trick to play, feigning concern to weasel a response out of him. Howard probably spent the entire night out with the Rogers and was so giddy he couldn't sleep until 4:14am. Tony wants to wake up Bruce just to complain about it. Waking up Bruce, however, encompasses a whole other ship of problems Tony is not going to be sailing any time soon. Not for the next few hours, at least. He still has to think of something to say to Bruce in the morning.

In California, it's only 1:14am, Tony realizes, pulling up his contact list.

i peppered my friend. Help
|| Tony 3-

Try adding salt.
- Rhodney

cute. this is serious, though. i don't know what to do
|| Tony 3-

Have you considered not sticking your dick in all of your friends? That's what 'peppering' means, right?
- Rhodney

i never put it in you, buddy
|| Tony 3-

Rhodey's eye-roll is almost visible in his reply.

*Female friends, then, Tony. But really, you should just be honest with her.
- Rhodney

i know. after everything w/ pepper ive been making my intentions clear w/ every girl i meet, but i didn't with her and she likes me. romantically. that's probably why i went to her; knew she wouldnt say no
|| Tony 3-

You are a clinical scumbag with women. At least it's not new information… Still, tell her the truth. All of it. Don't lie, don't make excuses. If you lose her as a friend, that's on you.
- Rhodney

we had a falling out last monthish b/c she kissed me and i just coudlnt but before that we were best friends. we still are, i just didnt know how to deal with her liking me when i could never feel the same back and fuck rhodney I cant handle this. she means so fucking much to me
|| Tony 3-

Never? That's rather strong. As long as she has two breasts and a heartbeat, you could always fall for her.
- Rhodney

trust me. it's a 0% chance. still I dont want to lose her, and i know i have to be honest but is there anyway I can make it less shitty on her?
|| Tony 3-

Just be fair. Apologize and give her space if she needs it. My GF is like that when we get into the nastier fights. It works out better if you drop all the pretext and don't try to minimize things.
- Rhodney

…sigh, i know you're right. ill text you in the morning. thank you!

|| Tony 3-
- Rhodney

After clicking out of the conversation with Rhodney, Tony's eye catches on the 43 unread text messages still lingering in the "BabbleBruce" folder of Tony's phone. Tony has tried to read them hundred times, but could never bring himself to it. Inside, he's hoping that they're all Bruce saying what a mistake it was and that he only did it because he was trying to get over Betty. If nothing else, reading them will give him some ideas on how to talk to Bruce in the morning. Tony clicks open the conversation.

The messages are all punctuated immaculately. Bruce wobbles everywhere from apologizing to making puns and doesn't get angry or fault Tony once. There's something about text number 26, "You're my best friend, sometimes my only friend, I don't want to lose that," that is a dead-ringer for what Tony had said to Pepper just before she waltzed out of his life indefinitely. A distinct urge to vomit festers in Tony's stomach.

The final message, sent three days ago, is short and simple:

You text me.
- Bruce

Tony knows instantly what it means. It's the first message where Bruce asks anything from him other than forgiveness and is likely the last one Bruce would have ever sent had Tony never replied to it. That message gives Tony full control over what happens next, and Tony realizes with a sinking feeling in his throat that Bruce must think this is his response. Bruce asks him to make a move, and Tony shows up at his doorstep dressed for the Gods and kisses him. Jesus, what the fuck else could Bruce think? In Bruce's mind, Tony has picked him. In Tony's mind, Tony is a manipulative idiot who used his best friend for sex. Again. Tony has to tell him. It is going to ruin everything, but Tony has to. Bruce deserves that much, at least.

Morning is signified by Bruce's mom banging on the living room door saying she has lost her keys. Tony's eyes open first, focusing on the Bruce below him, moaning into his chest.

"She always forgets her keys," he mumbles, lips brushing against Tony's heart just above one of the scars. Tony just nods. He feels paralyzed. You have to tell him screams through his mind, getting painfully loud when Bruce wills himself out of bed and kisses Tony's cheek. "Don't tell her you shoved your dick in me last night, okay?"

"I'll try," Tony manages back. He wonders if Bruce thinks he sounds so choked up because he's tired.

The sounds of Bruce dressing, doors creaking, and keys jingling pound in Tony's eardrums. Tell him. You have to tell him. He hears Bruce's mom crack some joke that makes Bruce laugh before she collapses onto the couch to Bruce chiding, "You really need to stop the double shifts. I have a rich friend now, you know."

For as awful as Tony feels, hearing Bruce call him his friend makes his whole body relax in relief before tightening in guilt. When Bruce steps back in, shaking his head, Tony sits upright.

"I do not know how my mom even got here. Her eyes were not open, despite what she'd convinced herself. I think I'm going to have to start working part-time somewhere. Mom always says my job is school, but she deserves a break."

Bruce steps over, gray sweatpants and a stained white t-shirt, and sits on the bed over Tony's legs.

"I can help, you know," Tony says too quickly. "With the money. Pay her properly for her volunteer work, at least. Dad's been looking for more charities to rub his balls over."

"Maybe." Bruce's hands trail up Tony's waist as he leans down and kisses Tony's hips. How this is the first time Bruce 'my showers don't work and you're a billionaire, but I'm still paying for my own movie ticket' Banner has agreed to really let Tony help him financially does not go over Tony's head. "But right now, I really want to suck you off," Bruce finishes.

Tony bites his lip.

"You know Bruce—"

"Shut up, Stark. I want to."

Not that. Bruce wraps his mouth around Tony's cock. It's a good feeling physically, even if on the inside Tony hasn't yet kicked the need to puke. He's not going to cum when he's this nervous, and he's not even hard, but Bruce doesn't seem to mind if the way his fingers are sliding up and down Tony's legs is any indicator. One positive about this situation, beyond the whole blow job thing, is that it gives Tony a couple more minutes to think before Bruce has an open mouth to make words with.

After a few minutes of fruitless sucking, Bruce pulls off, wiping a drop of saliva off his lip.

"Aren't you supposed to be better at this?" he teases, smiling. "With how much you'd bragged about about your lays, I thought you could go for three rounds of fucking and still have two left over for emergencies."

"We should talk," Tony blurts out. His eyes are wide and he's having trouble breathing. Raising his head and pursing his lips together, Bruce nods, climbing over to the empty side of the bed as Tony rests his head against the bedframe.

"Yeah, we should."

"I, um. Last night." Tell him. "I think it goes without saying that—"

"We probably shouldn't date," Bruce finishes. Tony's head jerks to him. Rubbing his neck, Bruce averts his eyes towards the window, "I mean, if you want to, we can, but we're sixteen, and I'd rather be your best friend when you're forty than that nobody guy you screwed when you were a sophomore. The sex thing, though, that should stay. Absolutely. If you want to." Bruce is rambling. He rambles when he's nervous. If Tony could move his frozen mouth, he would say something to make him stop. "But, dating's fine. I don't want to make it sound like I don't, I mean, when I asked you to text me, I just wanted to know how you felt about everything. You didn't talk to me at all, and I imagined every reason under the sea as for why, most of which were that you were disgusted by it, but it makes sense if you were just having issues because of... gender or something? Maybe that's not it. I don't know; I've never had an issue with it, though it's not something I publicize. I mean, either way is fine with me, but, just being pragmatic, we should probably avoid the whole 'lunchtime special' relationship ordeal, if you want maybe?"

"I fucked you because I was pissed at my father."

Bruce blinks.

"He took Steve and his mom out to dinner and forced me along, and the whole time he was singing Steve's praises. I had to get out of there, your apartment was nearby, and I needed the ego boost."

There's a silence between them. Tony alternates between looking at Bruce, trying to read his expression, and staring at the sullied bed sheets.

"Don't you, uh," Bruce eventually begins. His voice is shaking. "Call him Howard? Your dad? You always call him Howard around me. Howard. Not dad."

Bruce is repeating things just like he had after he'd kissed him. Tony looks over.

"I led you on and played along with it this morning because I felt too guilty to tell you," he continues. Bruce shakes his head.

"Is it because of him and Steve? Like, a claiming thing. Male dominance. Biologically, if he's Howard to you and Steve, it is a level playing field, but Steve can never be his son. That's why you called him dad. Father. Whatever."

Tony puts his hands on Bruce's shoulders.

"Did you hear me?" Tony says. "The part where I used you because I knew you wouldn't say no?"

Bruce nods. His voice is high-pitched when he replies, "I heard that part, too, in addition, also." Repeating things. "But, um, it's. You know. I just feel really stupid at the moment, going on about if you wanted to date me thirty seconds ago."

The fact that Bruce's anger isn't directed towards Tony at all makes Tony choke.

"I mean, you're probably not straight, anyhow. There was a significant lack of vagina last night, unless I was being delusional about that too."

Tony bites down the urge to say something back to the 'not straight' comment.

"You're not delusional, Bruce."

Bruce chews at his index finger. "Yeah. Okay, that's nice. I just-" he laughs. It sounds almost maniacal. "I just really thought, you know, when you showed up, and the tux should have given it away; I knew something was up, but, um. I probably shouldn't have agreed to it since you were so obviously disturbed, and it makes more sense hearing it now."

"Your eyes are watering."

"Oh, are they? That's not good. Even more embarrassing, sorry."

Tony reaches his thumb out and wipes one of the droplets away.

"I'm sorry," Tony whispers. He feels guilt tugging at his skin, pulling like it's trying to tear out his bones. He can only imagine what Bruce feels like.

"I'm not, I mean, Tony, for fuck's sake. I'm not someone you can just do that to."

Anger, finally. If Bruce didn't defend himself, Tony wouldn't have been able to take it.

"I know."

"Even if I kissed you."

"I know."

"Actually, especially when I kissed you. And the not talking to me? For a month? Really?"

"I should have said something."

"No, you didn't need to. I knew it'd take a while before you'd be able to talk to me again. It's just—if you're going to fuck with me like I'm one of the girls you one-night-stand, at least have the decency to send me a heads up the night before. Or month before."

"I didn't know I'd be doing this." His head flashes to a fight between him and Pepper, and Tony clears his throat. Don't make excuses. "Not, not that that's a reason for it. At all. I'm wrong, obviously. I'm sorry." If he'd acted like this with Pepper, maybe she would still talk to him, Tony thinks.

Bruce closes his eyes and inhales. Tony's hands fall to the inside of his elbows. "Do you even like men?"

"No." It's an instant reply. Tony is being honest.

"Well, you shoved your dick in one, so excuse me for being a little put off!" Bruce snaps. Tony winces.

"I don't. It's not wired in me."

"It's wired in me. Maybe not the only wire in me, but it's definitely wired in me, so while you were imagining I was some big-titted blonde, I was really enjoying having another guy over me. In me, for that matter. You know, because you fucked me, another guy, less than twelve hours ago. And came from it."

"I wasn't pretending you were someone else."

"Right, because if it was someone else you wouldn't have done it, yeah? Because you knew I wouldn't say no? Jesus Tony, do you think I'm that pathetic? Clearly I am; I fucking fell for it."

"You knew from the start, from the first time we met, that I don't play nicely with others. It's not fair to just change your mind on liking me when I haven't even—" Pepper's voice echoes in his mind: "You have no right to be acting defensive right now!" "Shit. Bruce, I know that's terrible. I'm terrible."

"No. No, see you don't get to say that. You don't actually think you're terrible. You have no idea what it is like to actually hate yourself, and that is fantastic for you. But for us people who do know, who prefer to keep our shirts on during sex because our bodies make us sick to our veins, who wish when we go to sleep half the time we just won't wake up, the people around us are the only thing that can lift us up." Bruce closes his eyes and arches his head back, making a strangled noise. "If you're not into guys, why'd we fuck missionary, even? Did you just not notice my cock against your stomach? I'm seven inches, pretty hard to miss."

"You've measured your dick?"

"Betty did it, fuck," Bruce scratches under his neck, digging his fingers under his collarbone uncomfortably deep.

"That has to hurt."

"Not enough."

"I'm sorry."

"I wish I could rip my collarbone out." Bruce relaxes his hand, removing it from his neck and ruffling it through his hair. "I wish everything in my head would just shut up for ten seconds."

"Should I go?"

Bruce's hand tightens around his hair, yanking at the strands before he scoffs and lets go. "Fuck, I can't even do that anymore without thinking about you. You're a really bad person." It's a lame insult, but Tony feels every ounce of its weight from the strangled tone of Bruce's voice. "Just go or whatever."

Tony feels a droplets of water drip down his cheek. He wipes it off and grabs his suit from off the floor.

"I will. Sorry."

He dresses. Bruce remains seated on the bed, dead silent. Once fully clothed, Tony nods in Bruce's direction.

"I'm going now."

At least they've both stopped crying. Bruce doesn't say anything or move until Tony is opening the door to the bedroom.

"Tony," Bruce says.

He glances back. "Yes?"

Bruce stands up and walks over towards him until they're facing each other. Tony thinks Bruce is going to punch him, but instead Bruce presses his thumb into Tony's neck and leans forward until their lips are touching. When Bruce breathes, Tony can feel the it against his mouth.

"Nice heart-rate," Bruce says, pulling back a centimeter to meet Tony's wide eyes with his own. "Pupil dilation. Hip-angle." He moves his hand from Tony's neck to Tony's chest and pushes him back lightly. "Don't text me," he finishes, leaving Tony transfixed.

"I, um. I won't."

"Good."

And Bruce, perfectly calm, closes the door in front of him. It takes Tony a solid four minutes before he is even able to breathe again. Once he can, he moves through Bruce's living room and out his door, shaky fingers sending a text to the only person who would possibly give him a place to stay right now. After the message is sent, Tony waits on the lowest stair leading to Bruce's floor for the reply, which comes twenty minutes later.

your dad kicked u out? and yeah of course you can stay the night, im already having thor loki n Coulson come over for a captin america marathon! :)plus my mom was so stressed b/c she thought you and howard were mad at us or something,she'll be glad to see us hanging out. just bring extra popcorn, thor always eats all of mine!
- Steve

God, Tony hates his life.