Chapter 10: Careless

For once, Bruce didn't think.

His fingers dipped into Stark's raven dark hair, want clear in every move he made. He kissed boldly, fully; it was an offer Tony couldn't refuse. The feel of the doctor's fingers sent an unfamiliar chill down the spine, the man pressing further back against the wall. It was a mesh of stubble, fabric and trepidation, the air hot with questions.

Bandaged digits grazed the doctor's jaw. Heart pounding, recollections dashed about in Bruce's hazed mind, hands moving to the front of the other's shirt. So this was what it felt like. Pupils dilated, neurons fired away, addiction quickly developing. This was the luxury he'd walked away from all those years ago. He'd forgotten how… sweet it was. He broke the kiss with a slight shudder, having his answer. The subtle scent of shampoo and cologne wafted between them, breaths held in mutual astonishment. Their eyes locked. Something different lied in their stare.

Words refused to come forth. All Bruce wanted to do was… more. But then an unshakeable sense of dread tainted the cathartic air. He stepped back from the flustered billionaire. "…" He brought his hand over his face, sighing. "I'm terrible."

"No, Bruce, actually we both are." The man leaned his head back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling.

A moment like that had a way of… pulling a person along for the ride. But there was no excuse. It was a stupid thing they did. Stupid and so very… good. He tried to ignore the guilt gnawing at him, caught in a mental fray. His eyes followed Bruce, who went to grab his jacket. "Where're you goin'?"

"Somewhere. Anywhere. It's better that way."

"I'm sorry, 'better?' You're just gonna hit the road, bindle in hand? No, Doctor, in my humble opinion, that tired little move you always pull won't help you find what you're looking for. Never does." The creak of a well-worked leg brace sounded as the piqued billionaire finally moved from his place. Quite typical of Bruce to walk out now. Everything was out in the open. Nothing to hide… and he did so very much like hiding.

"Huh," Banner hummed, folding his arms tightly over his chest. "And what am I looking for?"

Question of the century. For a man with an answer to everything, the query stopped Tony dead in his tracks. Four years later, and that was the piece of the puzzle he'd yet to find.

Bruce looked on expectantly. "I'm such an open book to you, right?" Still nothing. At that, the doctor smiled, dry of any humor. "I thought as much. I haven't been 'looking' for anything for years. Sure, I'm allowed my moments of peace here and there. But it's always a very temporary thing. You opened your home to me, helped me more times than I can count on four hands… And how can I repay you? By driving a wedge between you and Pepper? No. I don't wanna rock this boat any more than I already have." Before he could race for the exit, a hand wrapped itself around his wrist. He turned to find patient eyes.

"You have such an addiction to leaving without any sort of closure. It's gonna ruin you."

"Closure doesn't exist here." He pulled against Tony's grasp. Tony pulled back.

"All I've seen you do is run, Bruce. That's why closure doesn't exist. You work so hard to make people buy the bullshit you're selling, and it's toxic."

"Oh, is that right? What I do is toxic?" The doctor took back his wrist, nursing the area momentarily. "Don't you preach to me about toxic behavior. You've clearly got baggage you refuse to share. And maybe… maybe you like having someone worse off around. Makes your issues seem a little smaller, huh?"

The engineer could only scoff at that.

"You're reaching, Bruce. That's not true and you know it. The reason I brought your stubborn ass back here was so I could help fix you."

"You CAN'T FIX ME." The engineer blinked. It'd been a while since Bruce raised his voice. It had the kind of bass that could silence an entire room. The body language changed. Stiffened. Stifled. Cautious. The doctor's hands clenched into fists at his sides, gaze collapsing to the floor once again. It was a tiled refuge, cold and uninteresting, ironically making it the complete opposite. He slowly inhaled, gained his mental bearings. "Listen… I came into this world broken and there's nothing you can do about it. Especially now, with all… this. I won't be your poison."

For a while, Tony was silent. He almost lost this dangerous game of verbal tango. A thought came to him, then another, reproducing and dividing and filling his muddled head. His eyes were wide, trained on the other with a look of almost… uncertainty. What should he say? What was he supposed to say? Doubt was a scary look on him; his deep, dark orbs suddenly seemed shallow and void. But he caught himself in time, just before he fell into the trap Bruce was lost in. He spoke. "You're no 'poison' of mine, Bruce. God—you're so sure I don't understand you. We're both damaged goods." A few small steps brought him closer to Bruce, whose eyes were trained on him. The storm of want whirled in his heavy eyes, masked only by the cool glare of his lenses. It betrayed him, whispering his truth. The old, thorny tendrils coiled around his heart began to quake, unsure in the face of something so withstanding. It was unwise to hope Tony wasn't so attentive. He knew him too well.

The latter stepped even closer, bolder this time. "You and I? We're a million miles from perfect." For the briefest of moments, hesitation visited his starry gaze. But then he remembered the adamant ache in his heart. "What's another step back?" He awaited no response. The time for talking had passed. Bruce let out a hushed noise, shock quickly melting to relinquishment. Every part of his mind shrieked for him to end this now, to do the decent thing, but… no. Damn everything said prior. He wanted this. With him. His heart soared more than it sank, a feeling so long forgotten it was foreign.

The engineer's lips were soft yet demanding, his silver tongue winning him another sweet iteration of what he already knew. Time did not exist then. Much to his surprise, the doctor demonstrated his own bravado, gripping him closer. Emotion had officially won over conscience, and the two parted lips differently this time. That same chill racked Tony once more, but a sample of the passion boiling beneath Banner's controlled façade. The secrets that lied just at arm's length. The little push it required to procure them. It was a game that never grew tiresome, and perhaps, deep down, the doctor knew that. The passing of a plane sounded outside, the sky having lost its golden kiss minutes ago. A familiar cerulean glow bled through the fabric of Tony's dark top, heart compromised in more ways than one. He stood still as the other buried his face in the crook of his neck. Banner was silent, thick curls tickling the man's exposed skin.

"I never let myself have this." He said finally, voice soft, muffled. His tone was laden with something unintelligible. It was a delightful thrill to which the engineer didn't admit, his dark eyes falling to the other's peppered curls. He'd seen him time and time again exercise his anxious ticks, watched as his shaky hands grazed through his hair. It was as if he were trying to comb his very thoughts from his mind, before once again relinquishing to silence. It'd fascinated him for some reason. If one looked closely enough, the clues of the doctor's strife laid bare. He felt Bruce's fingers clutch the back of his shirt a moment before loosening. Anything beyond rage had become too overwhelming to manage. He forgot what it felt like to be rooted in the moment. The doctor gently pulled himself from Tony's warmth, face bright and charming.

"Bruce…?"

"Heh. I… Wow. I-I guess I'd fallen for you a long time ago."

Did he actually say-? He wasn't supposed to say it. Not yet. Not… ever. Tony's throat ran dry, fingers stiff at his sides. Good lord, he felt ridiculous, paralyzed not by a kiss, but the doctor's words. Was that… heat rushing to his face? That wasn't sweat lining his palms, was it? No, no, he never felt this way. He was Tony goddamn Stark. He was Cupid in mortal form. But all that went out the window just now. And Bruce seemed just tickled about it. His brown eyes sparkled with satisfaction, the look he gave so very new. "All in the name of closure." He hummed with a shrug of the shoulder. How very… Stark of him. Slipping his hands into his pockets, he stepped away, eyeing the minibar further into the room. "How about a drink? I think I'll stay a while."

"Yeah, about that—who are you and what have you done with the good Doctor?"

"I'm not entirely sure. Let's just say maybe you're right about some things." He rolled his neck, seeming looser. All that tension appeared to have washed away. It was a good look on him. His movements brought attention to his exposed collarbone, three buttons undone on his shirt. He'd always been conservative with the way he dressed, but it was something he pulled off perfectly. His sleeves bunched nicely above his elbows, the article's hem tucked loosely into his pants. His pressed collar complimented his defined jawline, and it left just enough to the imagination. "Tony?" He called expectantly. Shit, he was staring.

"Y-y'know, I've never actually seen you drink," he stuttered, "you sure you can handle your liquor?"

Banner chuckled. "I know my way around a bottle, I can assure you."

"So THIS is what you've been up to." Tony blanched, his voice caught in his throat.

It was Pepper.

A/N: Thus concludes Chapter 10! What kind of drama will ensue? I guess we'll find out together…
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