Am I a Monster?
Bruce didn't let Tony hug him after the session, and when they got home he mumbled that he was going to take a shower and didn't appear again for the rest of the afternoon. At seven o'clock, Tony knocked on his bedroom door.
“Bruce? I made shawarma.”
Silence.
“Okay, so I put ham in pitas, but it's still really good. Did you know there's nothing in this house for roasting meat on a stick? We really need to get a rotisserie; maybe I can make one. With turbo power boosters. Bruce? Are you coming out of there for dinner or do I have to eat alone like a bachelor?”
He stuck his ear to the door and heard footsteps. Then the door slowly opened and Bruce appeared with a book in his hand.
“You are a bachelor, Tony,” he said. “Anyway, I'm not hungry. I'm just going to read some more and then go to bed. Maybe I'll see you in the morning.”
Not this again, Tony thought. It was shaping up to be one step forward, two steps back. All he wanted was for Bruce to let him be his protector; after all, he was Iron Man, wasn't he? He was the best protector America had ever seen! Bruce had let his guard down before and they had had that excellent snuggle, so why not now? Maybe he just needed to be affectionate on his own terms.
Tony worked on a new suit before going to bed that night, hoping it would take his mind off domestic issues. But as he lay in the dark, trying to force himself to sleep, all he could think about was little Bruce getting beaten, and how he would love to just scoop him up in a massive hug and tell him it wasn't his fault, if only Bruce would let him.
He must have finally fallen asleep, because he found himself waking to the sound of J.A.R.V.I.S.'s voice, sounding all too chipper for the middle of the night.
“Sir, Dr. Banner is standing outside your room, and he has been for quite some time.”
“J.A.R.V.I.S., tell me something, and this is incredibly important: what ungodly hour are you waking me up at?”
“It's 3:34 A.M., sir.”
“Fuck,” Tony groaned, pushing his face into a pillow. “Are we talking puny Banner or big, green, ragey Banner.”
“Puny Banner, sir. He looks like he wants to knock, but can't quite get up the gumption to do so. Shall I tell him to hit the road, sir?”
“No!” Tony jumped out of bed, adjusting himself in his tight black boxer briefs. If it wasn't the Hulk, here to attack him, then what could Bruce be doing outside his room? A rush of excitement went through him, though he wasn't really sure what he was hoping for. “Just, give us some privacy, Nosey.”
“As you wish, sir.”
Bruce, wearing only a pair of grey-and-white pyjama pants, jumped when Tony opened the door. “Oh! Jeez, Tony, you almost gave me a heart attack.” He ran a hand through his mussy curls. “Um... I know it's super late, but... I, uh, I wanted to ask you something.”
Tony didn't say anything.
“Um, Tony? Are you even listening, or are you just gonna stare at me?”
“Oh, yeah, sorry,” he said, snapping himself out of it. “I just never realized how... hairy you were. Why don't you come on in and you can ask me... that... question.” He felt all flustered – goddamn that Banner was hot.
He motioned for Bruce to sit on the bed and he sat next to him, their bare arms so close to touching that the space between them felt warm and electrified.
“Tony,” Bruce began, eyes on the floor as usual -- I definitely need to teach him how to own a room, Tony thought -- “when you said before that I was a... a ball of rage... even before the accident... what... um...” He trailed off.
Tony tried to make eye contact, but Bruce's gaze didn't shift from a spot between his feet. “Is there a question there, or...?”
“Sorry, this is just hard for me. What I'm trying to say is, do you think I'm really a monster? Even without the other guy?” He shrugged as if he was trying to look casual, but there was pain in his eyes. “You know... like my dad said I was.”
“At the birthday party?”
He shook his head. “All the time, always. He was right, wasn't he? Is that what you meant when you said I'd be like this even without the other guy?”
Tony's heart hurt suddenly, and he immediately looked down at the glowing power source in his chest to make sure it wasn't malfunctioning. Nope, that wasn't it. “Brucey, look at me.” He was almost choking on the words. “I would never lie to you, so what I'm about to say is absolute truth, okay? Cross my heart and all the metal in my chest.” He waited for his friend to nod before continuing. He said the words slowly, deliberately, “You are not a monster. You were hurt badly, but that doesn't mean you're bad. You are Dr. Bruce Banner, one of the greatest guys I know, and you may not believe this but I totally look up to you.”
Bruce's face crumpled a little as he looked up with tears in his eyes. He looked to Tony like an innocent little boy who's just been forgiven for some mistake. “You mean that?”
Tony gave him a meaningful look. “Come on, would I really bother lying to you? Trust me, I don't do flattery unless it's deserved.”
That's when Bruce broke down and started really crying. He threw himself into Tony's arms so hard he nearly knocked him over, wrapping his arms around his waist like a football tackle, his body convulsing with sobs.
“Ssshh,” Tony soothed, running his fingers through his hair, “it's okay. Here, lie down, lie down.”
He lowered him to the mattress and positioned a pillow under his head, then tucked him in and sat on the edge of the bed, his hand gently caressing his shoulder.
When he had settled enough to talk, Bruce asked, “Aren't you going to sleep here, too?”
“Oh, uh,” Tony sputtered, “I- I thought... Are you sleeping... here?”
“If that's okay.”
“Yeah, of course.”
“And is it okay if you sleep with me? I just... don't want to be alone right now. And that was nice when you were... you know... holding me.”
Tony felt all sorts of things as he slid under the covers and wrapped his arms around Bruce, pulling him close until he felt his friend's hairy chest against his own smooth one. One of those things was confusion. But the thing he felt most of all was a loving protectiveness for his little buddy who needed him so much. He played with his hair and watched him fall asleep in his arms.
Bruce slept like a puppy, all curled up and twitchy, whimpering often and kicking his feet. It kept Tony awake, but he didn't care. At the sound of his morning wake up call he muttered, “Shut up, J.A.R.V.I.S,” and nestled closer to the sleeping beauty beside him for another solid hour of cuddling.