A/N: Death in my family. Happened in September. My oldest brother, Dylan. Unrelated: started college. Computer Science major. Writing doesn't raise up the dead or my GPA, so it's irresponsible for me to write. Still.
Still.
Still, this chapter is inevitable and overdue and I think about EM too much not to write more of it.
Chapter 17: Technically, Not
Howard is never going to forgive him. It's one thing to be desperate and needy with a guy, to mess around once and have it not mean anything. This, however, is different. This is Tony closing his eyes and cupping his left hand against Bruce's ear, ghosting his fingers into his curly brown hair. This is Bruce connecting their lips and Tony letting him. This is an admittance of the one thing Tony knows his dad would disown him for if he ever found out.
Because Tony isn't like that sexually, the way his dad wants him to be. He's never liked just girls; it's not wired in him. Tony doesn't like men; he wasn't lying to Bruce when he'd said that. Boys never get along with Tony, and Tony doesn't find men attractive on principal. Still, when it's someone like Bruce or Rhodney, whom Tony would deny having tried to kiss in third grade to his deathbed, someone who he cares about, it's a different rule set. And Tony hates that.
There is a love for Howard as well, Tony knows. He always has loved him and always fucking will, even though Howard doesn't deserve it. Bruce, however, deserves every shred. Every touch, kiss, and minimum-wage-paying job at Sears that comes to him, and then a thousand more things because Bruce is fucking amazing.
Realizing his and Bruce's awkward position, Tony leans back, breaking the gentle kiss. His eyes open and meet Bruce's, which are half lidded and still beaming with self-assurance.
"I don't wanna fuck," Tony states. He feels like a virgin, like some pathetic girl, but Bruce just rolls his eyes and locks his arms around the back of Tony's neck, pulling Tony down on top of him.
"'Kay. Kiss me."
Tony does just that.
Closed mouth kissing isn't something Tony's done since Pepper. With Bruce, at least, it's bearable. Touching when it won't lead to more has never been Tony's forte, but something about Bruce's body against his, calm and pliant, makes Tony hold the kiss for a little longer before collapsing next to Bruce in the bed, exhausted.
"Tony," Bruce murmurs, rolling over so Tony's body is spooning his. "Who's gonna turn off the lights?" With a groan, Tony forces his hands up off the bed and claps twice. The lights shut off. Bruce snorts and cuddles into bed, grabbing Tony's arm and holding it around him. "Your house is ridiculous," he says.
Tony kisses the nape of Bruce's neck.
"Go to sleep, Tapestry."
And Tony falls asleep with Bruce's sleep-struck chuckle on his mind.
Bruce wakes up alone. At first, he thinks last night was another derailed sex dream, sans the sex part, but a post-it taped over his glasses on the bedside table reads otherwise.
Cleaning up the party mess. Breakfast is in the mini-fridge in the annex.
|| Tony 3-
Because only Tony Stark would have a mini-fridge in the fifty-seventh floor annex of his mega mansion, Bruce thinks. He can't believe Tony used a post-it instead of texting him, but when he goes to check his phone, he sees the same message delivered in digital. It makes Bruce smile. Tony covered all bases; he didn't want Bruce to worry. Clicking the 'reply' button, Bruce types out a quick text before heading to the elevator.
This doesn't mean we're dating or anything, right?
- Bruce
Bruce's opinion from the last night they'd spent together still holds: he doesn't want to date Tony. Tony is his best friend, and now that Bruce knows what it feels like to lose him, he is absolutely certain he doesn't want to take that risk again.
b-baka! i'd never want to be noticed by someone like you!
|| Tony 3-
And what do you want us to be?
|| Tony 3-
Senpais. Friends. That fuck on occasion. And you don't even watch anime.
- Bruce
I can still appreciate their memes, can't i?.
|| Tony 3-
You still didn't answer my question. At the garden now.
- Bruce
I'm by the pool.
|| Tony 3-
I see you.
- Bruce
Bruce shuts off his phone and stores it in his pocket, waving at Tony, who has a throng of maids collecting discarded solo cups with him.
"Luckily for you, we already dealt with the inside. I woke up at like 7:00am," Tony says.
"Didn't you want the place to be trashed? 'Break dad's stuff,' I think you said?" By this point, the pool area is about three-quarters clean, and Tony motions for the maids to head back inside. They disappear into the house, leaving Bruce and Tony alone. "Well?" Brush pushes.
"Well nothing. I changed my mind. It doesn't have to be an issue."
Bruce grabs one of the maid's half-full trash bags and starts bending down for solo cups. "With you and Howard, everything is an issue."
"Look, I decided I want to be on his good side. Otherwise, he won't let you come over as much or ever. And he likes you, so that's saying something. Howard hated Pepper. Didn't even let her come to my birthday parties."
"Why did he hate Pepper?" Bruce asks.
"More of a salt guy." Tony ties the top of his garbage sack and lugs it over to the collection of fourteen other full ones propped against the side of the house. "She reminded him too much of Mom, but he told me it was because I was too young to be in a relationship."
Bruce laughs, trying to keep the conversation light. He's still unsure of where Tony is emotionally. "Did your dad even know all the shit you got into? You pretty much hosted a rave freshmen year."
"Look. What I do with my body and my cock is my decision."
"And what do you want to do with your cock right now, Anthony?" Bruce says, stepping behind Tony and kissing at his ear. Tony turns his head away.
"Confidence is weird on you, Banner, and we need to dispose of these bags before Howard gets here at 2:00pm. Plus, cameras."
"I proffer a compromise: we do exactly that, but naked. Just, no clothes. Fuck the cameras."
"You're an idiot," Tony spits, hauling the first bag towards the garden. "We have a giant disposal center behind the garden. Either make yourself useful or make yourself lost." There's a playful ring to Tony's voice that lets Bruce know he's joking.
"You're so mean. Tsundere."
"Yes I am, and I'm about to go Yandere on you if you don't start helping."
Bruce just smiles, shaking his head and reaching for the trash bags. He grabs four at a time, making Tony stare at the two bags he was struggling to haul with disdain.
"I could do that too," Tony says to him. "If I wanted."
"Come on now, Moneybags. You might break a nail."
"I'm not a girl," Tony spits. The sting in his voice is too pointed for Bruce to take as a joke.
"Testy."
An hour later, the back, front, and side yards are spotless save a few splotches of upturned grass and a clump of vomit Tony has covered with potted carnations from the garden. The two of them head inside to the central living room and collapse onto the nearest couch. As they gather themselves, a thought passes Bruce's brain.
"You said there were cameras outside, right?"
"Cameras everywhere except the top floor."
"Won't Howard be able to see the whole party? And everything else that happened here?" Like when Bruce had kissed Tony in Guest Room 3 last month, Bruce thinks.
"Howard doesn't check every second of footage and the security guards who do like me more than him. They wouldn't tell a soul unless I burned down the radiation labs or put acid in the pool. Basically, unless Dad notices the house is awry, I've never gotten in trouble for the parties I've tried to cover up before."
"You think we cleaned up well enough for Howard Stark not to notice?"
"I think the maids did. Besides, as long as the labs are intact, Howard doesn't care. You think he uses that pool? It's only for show, just like everything else he does."
Bruce decides to ignore the vile in Tony's voice for the time being.
"Still, I think we should—" Bruce starts, but Tony cuts him off by pulling Bruce's shirt collar with his fingers so their faces are almost touching.
"Bruce, do you want to spend the last sixty minutes before Howard gets home dusting or getting fucked?"
"There's a lot of benefits to dusting," Bruce argues, moving so he's straddling Tony's lap. "Cleanliness, quality of air; I could go on."
Ten seconds of Tony just staring at Bruce pass before Tony laughs, gripping his hands over Bruce's sides.
"You should not be allowed to talk during foreplay."
"Foreplay?" Bruce exclaims. "But Tony we're men. How ever will we uphold our records as an infallible heterosexuals?"
The minute the joke leaves Bruce's mouth Bruce regrets it, the fleeting flash of 'fuck-you' over Tony's face screaming 'Bruce you messed up!' in perfect clarity.
"Tony," he tries, but Tony's already rolling out from under him.
"We could double check the garden if you're worried about it. I don't think anyone went there except us last night, but I'm not certain."
"The maids dealt with the garden, you'd said."
Tony stands up off the couch and starts towards the sliding glass door leading to the pool-front.
"Still. To be sure," he says, and Bruce heads after him.
"And are you sure?" Bruce asks gripping the back of Tony's shoulder with his hand.
"Yeah. Definitely. We don't pay the maids enough to trust them with nuanced tasks like this. You can stay in here, and I can check. You're the guest, after all."
Bruce moves his hand away, disconnecting himself from Tony.
"Sorry," he says on instinct. Tony pauses, biting his lip before turning back and leaning in like he's going to kiss Bruce. Just before Tony does, though, Tony recoils, swallowing and nodding instead.
"Don't worry about it. Bad timing is all. Be right back."
And Tony's out the door.
It's not a problem with Bruce, really. There's no trash in the garden, and Tony knows this, but the plants have a cathartic effect, and Tony can't deal with anything with consciousness at the moment. He stays outside for fifteen more minutes before heading back through the gates to the poolside. Sitting outside on a striped white lounge chair, Bruce is huddled over, freezing probably since the outdoor heaters only run at night.
"Howard's not gonna notice," Tony says as he walks back to the poolside.
"That's a relief."
"Yeah. Wanna Star Wars? I haven't seen Revenge of the Sith in ages."
"Okay."
The tone of Bruce's voice gives it away, prompting Tony to reply with a factual, "You don't wanna watch Star Wars."
"I always want to watch Star Wars." Bruce isn't looking at him. Tony really thought he could go at least twelve hours without being an asshole to Bruce, but old habits die hard, Tony figures.
"Sorry I got weird," Tony tries. The words feel like spaghetti in his mouth.
"It's okay."
There's a pause.
"You were a lot more confident last night," Tony says.
"I didn't have anything to lose last night," Bruce replies. That makes Tony glance at him, eyebrows raised. Bruce doesn't return the glance, "I mean, it wasn't really a secret that I was into you. I kissed you. We fucked. I didn't want you to just keep being my friend because you felt guilty about it, and that's what it would have been if you didn't have the same ideas about us that I did. Month of Silence was evidence enough that we can't be friends if I liked you and you didn't'."
How Bruce is so good being honest, Tony has no clue. When Tony tries to tell the truth, it either comes out as an innuendo or a shouting tournament.
"If you would have still been my friend after the 'Month of Silence,' I would have been honored. It was an assish move on my part." Tony says.
"And if you did, what would have happened the next time I tried to kiss you?"
"I hate this," Tony spits, teeth grinding together. He doesn't say it to Bruce, gesturing at the air instead in an attempt to clarify what he's referring to.
"Me?" Bruce blurts before banging the back of his head against the rim of the pool chair. "That was stupid to say. Sorry."
"Don't be sorry. It's this talking thing I hate. Not you."
"You didn't kiss me last night out of guilt, right?"
A beat. Then Tony replies, "No."
"You paused."
"Not a guilt thing."
"So what was you backing off earlier?"
"Can we not do this? Please? I don't do girlfriends because, frankly, conversations like this make me want to—" Pepper's voice cuts into Tony's head, a fight eight-grade summer and a chastising 'I tell you about my feelings for you because I have feelings for you. How's me caring about you a negative?' "I can't deal with them."
"I'm not a fan of them either. Probably, it's because Anxious Bruce has two modes: battering and bumbling."
"Battering's when you, like," and Tony jerks his head back, simulating banging it against a wall. Bruce nods.
"And bumbling is when I can't stop fucking talking. It's a bad habit, but I don't want to fuck things up again, so I'm being overly cautious before anything starts. I mean, I still can't believe how many times I texted you last month. Isn't it supposed to be two in a row and then you stop? Like, get the memo, Bruce; he doesn't want to talk to you and now all I'm doing is talking."
"Confident Bruce was a nice change of pace," Tony says, unable to think of anything else.
"Sorry."
"Normal Bruce is fine too."
"Right."
Another one of the irritating silences pass. Then, Tony gets an idea:
"There are benefits to Normal Bruce. Confident Bruce seems a bit to toppy for my taste." Sex. Tony's good at sex. The line makes Bruce look at him, so it's not a total failure, at least. The lack of eye-contact had been murder.
"You like your partners compliant?"
"I like you compliant," Tony says. The tiny smile on Bruce's face is a positive sign, Tony notes before continuing quickly, "And sorry about locking up earlier."
"It's fine. I wouldn't really wanna fuck me either. I got baggage." Bruce clamps his fingers around his belly rolls. "You know, like down here."
"I've told you before: love handles. You know, its big girls who have the best tits."
"And what do big boys have?"
"Are you fishing for compliments?"
Bruce smirks, tilting his head and raising his shoulders.
"Maybe," Bruce says. "You gonna bite? Hard?"
"You're coming onto me."
"Better than coming out—" Bruce stops the quip before it lands, and Tony immediately steps in.
"There's this closet on the fifty-seventh floor that has padded floors. Ideal fuck zone for upstanding heterosexuals, I hear."
And it's that amazed, surprised, all-teeth smile Bruce does when he's expecting disappointment and doesn't get it that makes Tony's neck go warm. It's always accompanied with Bruce looked down and rubbing his neck, which is ironically Bruce-esque.
"Anything else on floor fifty-seven I missed?" Bruce jokes, glancing back up. "A movie theater? Bowling alley? Sex torture dungeon?"
"Dungeon's actually on the twentieth floor."
"Isn't that where your dad sleeps?"
Tony gives Bruce a mockingly-innocent smile before motioning to the living room with his chin.
"So, Star Wars?"
"Start with A New Hope," Bruce says, standing up and walking past him. "And Skip Phantom Menace, obviously."
Tony just laughs.
"Whatever you say, Darling."
And Bruce quite lovingly flips him off.