The Things We Carry With Us

Bruce scrubs the pot that his aunt had used for the rice and ignores Jen’s whining. “You are so slow!” she protests.

“And you are so annoying,” Bruce replies with a grin.

Jen reaches into the sink and flicks the suds into his face. “There’s me being annoying.”

Bruce tries to hide his grin, and flicks her back.

Jen ducks and snaps her towel at him.

“Kids! Are you doing the dishes?” Aunt Elaine calls.

Bruce shares a mischievous grin with Jen. “Yes, Mom!” Jen calls.

“Don’t let Morris catch you playing around,” she replies.

Bruce and Jen grimace at each other, and then start to laugh. Bruce hands her the pot. “Dry that, brat.”

“Bite me, brain,” she replies, sticking her tongue out.

“Like you can talk,” Bruce teases. “You’re just as much of a brain.”

“I just hide it better,” Jen replies.

Bruce rolls his eyes. “You shouldn’t hide the fact that you’re smart, Jen. You should strut.”

“Oh, is that what Tony says?” Jen asks.

“Shut up.” Bruce rolls his eyes. He’s received one phone call and two letters from Tony since they’d parted at science camp, enough to know that neither of them do phone conversations well, and written communication isn’t much better.

Someday, maybe, they’ll be able to communicate electronically, nearly instantaneously, but until that happens, they’ll have to put up with intermittent communications

That doesn’t mean they aren’t friends, though. Bruce has been following Tony’s advice and charging for tutoring services, and he’s making good money. He’s making enough that he’ll do okay when he goes off to college, even if he has to take a part time job to make up the difference.

He hears the phone ring, and his aunt calls out, “I’ve got it!”

His uncle is working late again, so he’s not around to complain about the phone distracting him from his work, or Bruce and Jen squabbling. And really, Bruce likes his uncle well enough, but Bruce recognizes how tentative his position here is.

Aunt Elaine accepts Bruce wholeheartedly, and Bruce suspects that she feels guilty, because it was her brother who had killed his wife and abused Bruce. Uncle Morris is the sheriff, so he accepts Bruce’s presence, and appreciates the fact that Bruce works hard and gets good grades, but doesn’t pay much attention to him otherwise.

Bruce will take disinterest over fists any day of the week.

“Bruce? It’s for you,” his aunt calls. “It’s Tony.”

Bruce blinks, surprised. “Oh, okay.” He quickly dries his hands and takes the phone from his aunt, wishing it weren’t in the kitchen, where anybody could hear his side of the conversation, or that he could get some privacy.

Jen is making an exaggerated kissy face at him when Bruce takes the phone, and he deliberately turns his back on her. “Hi.”

“Bruce, hey,” Tony replies, his voice immediately recognizable.

“What’s up?” Bruce asks, trying to ignore Jen’s rendition of “Bruce and Tony sitting in a tree.”

“What’s that?”

“What’s what?”

“It sounds like someone singing.”

Bruce sighs. “It’s my cousin. Ignore her. I do. Frequently.”

Tony snorts. “I wouldn’t know about that.”

“Love you, too, loser!” Jen calls.

“So, what’s up?” Bruce asks, trying valiantly to ignore her.

Tony sounds uncharacteristically hesitant when he says, “My folks are in L.A. for New Year’s, and they’re having a house party or something. I need to get out of here.”

“You want to come stay with me?” Bruce hazards.

“Can I?”

Bruce thinks of the monotony of winter vacation broken up by Tony’s presence. “Yes. I mean, I have to check with my aunt, but that would be great. If you could come.”

He winces at his own awkwardness.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Tony says, sounding just as awkward.

“Just, um, give me a second,” Bruce says, putting a hand over the phone. “Aunt Elaine?”

She appears from around the corner, and Bruce appreciates that she’d given him the illusion of privacy. “Yes?”

“Can Tony come stay for a couple of days?” Abruptly, Bruce realizes that he has no idea how long Tony can stay, or even how long he’d want to stay. “He’s home on a school break.”

“Home” is probably not entirely accurate, given that the Starks have at least two houses that Bruce knows of, plus at least one villa or something somewhere. Tony had mentioned it once, in an offhand way that made Bruce think that having any number of places that might be considered “home” at any given time was normal for him.

He glances around the kitchen, at the faded wallpaper and appliances that haven’t been updated for at least a decade, at the scarred linoleum floor and ancient wooden table that had been passed down from Walters to Walters.

Bruce suddenly wonders if asking Tony to stay with them, or letting Tony stay, isn’t a really bad idea—but the damage is done.

Aunt Elaine frowns. “I don’t see why that would be a problem, although he’ll have to sleep in your room.” She leaves unsaid the fact that Tony will either have to sleep on the floor, or that Bruce will. “I’ll need to speak to one of his parents, though.”

That might present a greater obstacle, Bruce thinks.

“Aunt Elaine says yes, but she has to speak to one of your parents,” Bruce says.

There’s a long pause, and Bruce wonders if Tony’s even going to be able to get his mom or dad on the phone.

“Yeah, hang on,” Tony replies.

Bruce nearly suggests that Tony call him back later, to save on the phone call, but then remembers that the Starks could probably eat the cost of a hundred international calls without batting an eyelash.

“Okay, I’ve got my mom,” Tony says, and Bruce hands the phone to his aunt.

He hovers by the sink, meaning to wash the remaining dishes, but he’s too busy listening to his aunt’s side of the call. She seems somewhat bemused, and asks whether they need to pick Tony up, or meet them halfway, and then she says, “We’d love to have him for however long Tony can stay.”

Bruce thinks that might mean that Tony is staying for the rest of his break, or at least the rest of Bruce’s, and he feels both elation and anxiety.

Elation, because the two weeks he’d spent at MIT with Tony had been amazing; anxiety, because it might not be the same now. Maybe things will be different.

His aunt holds out the phone, and Bruce takes it. “Hello?”

“I can stay with you until I have to go back to school, right after New Year’s,” Tony says. “That’s okay, right?”

Bruce squashes whatever worry he might feel. He has no idea what they’re going to do for the next six days, but this is Tony. They’re going to be fine. “It’s really great,” he replies.

“Okay,” Tony says, relief in his voice. “I’ll see you the day after tomorrow.”

Bruce hangs up the phone and looks at his aunt. “Uncle Morris is going to be okay with this, right?”

Aunt Elaine laughs a little at that, and ruffles his hair and brushes her lips against his forehead. “You let me worry about your uncle. You just focus on having a good time with your friend.”

Jen is still murmuring, “Bruce and Tony, sitting in a tree,” when he goes back to finish the dishes. He retaliates by flicking water in her face, and resolutely doesn’t think about all the ways this visit could go wrong.

~~~~~

Christmas this year had been pretty decent, since it had just been Tony, his parents, and Jarvis. His dad spent most of the day holed up in his office dealing with some emergency—or maybe just pretending to deal with an emergency to get out of spending time with his family—but Tony and his mom had opened presents and enjoyed a nice dinner.

But his dad’s friends and business associates had begun arriving the next day, which means Tony’s mom is busy playing the gracious hostess, and his dad alternates between ignoring Tony and trotting him out like a prize show pony.

That’s the part Tony hates most of all, because it’s not like his dad is actually proud of him. Showing Tony off is just a way of letting people know that the future of Stark Industries is secure, and there’s an appropriate heir waiting in the wings.

Tony often thinks that’s really all he is to his dad—a tool to ensure that the company will continue after his death, which probably won’t be until Tony is an old man.

He honestly doesn’t think he can endure the next week until he goes back to school, and then he remembers that Bruce lives in Los Angeles.

Maybe he has a place to go after all.

Tony is a little surprised when Bruce’s aunt insists on speaking to one of his parents, but then he’s never really had friends, at least not outside of school.

At least his mom seems to understand that Tony needs to get out of here, and Tony listens to her side of the conversation as she talks to Bruce’s aunt.

“No, of course we can drop him off and pick him up,” his mom says. “Are you sure it’s no trouble if he stays with you?”

Tony winces, knowing he probably shouldn’t have invited himself, but he doesn’t feel too guilty about that. You don’t get anywhere in life if you don’t go after what you want, and Tony wants to spend some time with Bruce.

“Thank you,” his mom says. “I’m just so glad that Tony made a friend.”

Tony blushes, feeling about five years old. It’s a relief when he can get back on the phone with Bruce, and he dismisses any awkwardness as an unfortunate side effect of telephone conversations.

“The day after tomorrow is the best I can do,” his mom says with a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay,” Tony insists. “It’s just nice to know that I’ll be at Bruce’s soon.”

His mom glances around. “Come on,” she says conspiratorially. “Let’s go get some ice cream.”

They sit in the kitchen, eating ice cream right out of the container, which Tony doesn’t think she does except when he’s home, and then she always has his favorite kind.

“You haven’t said much about Bruce,” his mom says quietly.

Tony shrugs. “He was my roommate at camp, and my partner for the final competition. He’s pretty great.”

His mom licks her spoon. “That doesn’t tell me much. He lives with his aunt?”

“Aunt, uncle, cousin,” Tony replies. “Something pretty terrible happened to his mom and dad.”

His mom takes another bite. “Did something pretty terrible happen to Bruce, too?”

“He had a nightmare while we were at camp,” Tony admits. He can tell his mom a lot of stuff, and he likes it when she listens like this, like Tony is the most important person in her world. He wouldn’t tell just anybody Bruce’s secrets, but he knows his mom won’t say anything to anybody.

His mom reaches across the table to rest her hand against his cheek. “Then he was lucky you were there for him.”

Tony looks away. “You don’t know that.”

“I know you,” she counters. “Anyone would be lucky to have you as a friend.”

Tony shrugs. “He doesn’t care about money or anything. He just likes science.”

“Those people can be hard to find,” his mom replies.

“Maria!” his dad calls, coming into the kitchen. He frowns when he sees her and Tony. “What are you doing?”

His mom winks at Tony. “Just taking a little break for ice cream.”

“Well, get in here,” his dad replies. “Tony, are you coming?”

“Tony’s in the middle of a project right now,” his mom says. “He’ll have dinner with us later.”

Tony gives her a grateful look, and she smiles. “Just hang in there another day,” she whispers before she follows his dad out.

Just a day, Tony thinks. He can hang on for that long.

~~~~~

Bruce hadn’t needed to worry about what his uncle would say. When Aunt Elaine calmly announces over dinner the following night that Tony would be visiting them for a few days, Uncle Morris asks, “Who’s that?”

“Tony was my roommate at camp,” Bruce replies, unable to help the frisson of fear.

He knows his uncle would never raise a hand to him or Jen, but that doesn’t stop the trepidation.

Uncle Morris frowns. “Tony Stark? Howard Stark’s son?”

“Yeah, it’s that Tony,” Bruce admits.

Uncle Morris chews thoughtfully for a moment. “Well, that’s certainly a connection worth cultivating.”

Bruce swallows. “It’s not like that. He’s a friend.”

His uncle gives him a sharp look, and then unbends enough to smile. “There are times when friends are all a man has in life, Bruce. You never know when you’ll need someone to help you bury a body,” he adds with a wink.

Bruce doesn’t like to think about that—he doesn’t like to think about using Tony, since he’s pretty sure people do that enough already—but that’s just how his uncle thinks. As the sheriff, and an elected official, a big part of his job is political.

“And he might be the one in need of your services,” Uncle Morris says.

Bruce thinks about the quiet desperation in Tony’s voice on the phone, and he relaxes. “Yeah, well, I think he needed a break over the holiday.”

“Have you thought about what you might like to do while he’s here?” Aunt Elaine asks.

Bruce winces. Without access to the labs, maybe Tony will get bored. “Not really.”

“I can probably let you borrow the car while he’s here,” his aunt offers, since Bruce had just gotten his license a couple of weeks ago. “Maybe you could take Jen to the mall to meet up with her friends.”

Jen perks up at that. “Really? They’ll be so jealous that Tony Stark is staying with us!”

Bruce rolls his eyes. “He’s not going to want you fawning all over him.”

She sticks her tongue out at him.

“That’s enough,” Uncle Morris says. “I trust you’ll act like the mature young lady you are while he’s here.”

Jen flushes at the faint disapproval in his voice, and the insinuation that Uncle Morris doesn’t think she’s capable of it. “I will.”

As much as Jen irritates him sometimes, Bruce hates it when her enthusiasm gets squashed like that. “Tony’s going to really like you,” he promises in a whisper as his aunt and uncle move on to another topic.

Jen manages a smile. “I’ll try not to bother you.”

“Like you could,” Bruce teases, and is pleased when she grins at him.

Of course, then she says, “Challenge accepted,” and he knows he’s in trouble.

Bruce doesn’t sleep much that night, feeling too much anticipation. He and his aunt pull one of the foam mattresses they take camping when the ground is cold—not that they go camping all that often. Between that, and the sleeping bags, and the pile of blankets, Tony should be comfortable, and if he’s not, Bruce will switch with him.

He feels a little strange at the idea of Tony sleeping in his bed, although he can’t put his finger on why it matters.

Bruce wakes up early, and the hours creep by so slowly he’s ready to swear that time is actually moving backward.

“Bruce and Tony, sitting in a tree,” Jen sings as she walks past him.

Bruce buries his head in his physics book, because what he wants to say would just get him into trouble with his aunt, and he doesn’t want to risk her rescinding Tony’s invitation.

Not that she would, he doesn’t think, but it’s best not to tempt fate.

“Jen, that’s enough of that!” his aunt calls from the kitchen. “Bruce could refuse to take you to the mall, you know.”

Jen looks outraged. “But I promised Shelby!”

“I’ll leave it up to Bruce,” his aunt says, sticking her head out of the kitchen and giving Bruce a conspiratorial smile.

Jen’s attempt to annoy him turns abruptly into wide, imploring green eyes and a trembling lower lip. “Bruce, please?”

Bruce is not above being a little bit of an asshole. “I don’t know. I guess that depends on whether you annoy me. Or Tony. Maybe I’ll leave it up to him.”

She scowls. “Now you’re just being mean.”

“I guess you’ll only find out if you’re nice to me,” Bruce replies.

Jen stomps off, and Bruce smirks. She’s easy to wind up these days, and he probably doesn’t resist nearly as much as he should.

He actually manages to fall asleep after lunch, his physics book heavy on his chest, waking only when Jen turns on the television. “I don’t care if you’re sleeping,” she announces when Bruce startles awake. “I have shows to watch.”

“Tony should be here soon,” Bruce says, and hears the crunch of tires on the driveway. “Speak of the devil.”

His eyes widen when he sees the limo pull up, but he probably shouldn’t have expected anything different.

The driver gets out and opens Tony’s door for him, and then pulls his bag out of the trunk.

Bruce rubs his hands on his jeans and opens the door, stepping out onto the front porch. “Hey,” he calls.

Tony takes his bag from the driver and gives a little salute. “Thanks,” he says, and bounds up the steps. “Bruce!”

Bruce has no idea which of them initiates it, but a second later they’re in a rough embrace, pounding each other on the back.

“Good to see you, man,” Tony says into Bruce’s ear. “Seriously, you do not know how bad I needed a break.”

“I’m glad you could come,” Bruce admits, feeling shy. “Come in.”

His aunt comes out of the kitchen, smiling. “You must be Tony.”

“This is my aunt, Elaine Walters,” Bruce says, summoning up his manners.

Tony sticks out a hand and turns up the charm to full-wattage. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Bruce has yet to run into anyone immune to Tony’s charm, and his aunt is no exception. Then again, he’s pretty sure his aunt is inclined to like anybody Bruce calls a friend, as he has so few of them.

“I’m glad you could come,” Aunt Elaine replies with a smile. “I hope you’re hungry. Dinner should be ready in an hour or so.”

“Whatever it is smells amazing,” Tony says sincerely.

His aunt smiles. “Bruce can show you where to put your things.”

“Where’s that cousin you told me about?” Tony asks in a low voice.

Bruce shrugs. “Probably hiding. Aunt Elaine said she’s hitting a weird age. Either she’ll avoid you because she’s feeling shy, or she’ll be all over you. There’s no middle ground, so fair warning.”

Tony grins. “Hey, I’ve never had a kid sister. I’m sure it’s great.”

“Yeah, unless she’s annoying the hell out of you,” Bruce replies.

He’s acutely aware of the faded blue walls of his room, the scarred, second-hand furniture, and the battered bookshelf. “It’s not much. We brought out the mattress, but if it’s too uncomfortable, you can take the bed.”

“Bruce,” Tony says, breaking into his prepared speech. “This is great. You could have made me sleep outside, and it still would have been great, because I would be out of the house.”

Bruce sits down on the edge of his bed. “Is it really that bad?”

Tony throws himself down on the nest of blankets and wriggles as though getting comfortable, and then he lets out a long sigh. “This really is great. And no, it’s not that bad. It’s just that my dad has people over, and he trots me out like a prize pony to impress all his friends and prove Stark Industries has a future.”

“What about your mom?” Bruce asks, suddenly curious, since Tony doesn’t talk about her much.

A smile softens Tony’s expression. “She’s great when she’s around, which isn’t much. She does a lot of charity work, and if Dad has his business associates there, she’s entertaining them or their wives.”

“They don’t bring their kids?” Bruce asks, a little surprised.

Tony shakes his head. “That’s what they have nannies for.”

Bruce blinks, unable to imagine that. “Who do you stay with? I mean, who do you hang out with?”

“I mostly work on my own projects,” Tony replies. “Or I go bug Jarvis.”

Bruce knows Jarvis is the Starks’ butler, and he’s reminded yet again of how they come from different worlds.

“Is your uncle around?” Tony asks, apparently deciding to change the subject.

“He works a lot,” Bruce replies, collapsing back onto the bed. “Which is fine. I mean, he’s nice and all, he’s just—the sheriff.”

Tony grins. “Makes it hard to really go wild with him around, huh?”

“Not that I want to go wild, but yeah.” Bruce debates giving Tony a heads up, and then decides he owes it to him. “He, um, he thinks it’s great that we’re friends. Because of your dad.”

Tony doesn’t look fazed. “Consummate politician, huh?”

Bruce lets out a sigh of relief. “Pretty much.”

“He’s not you,” Tony says carelessly. “I know you’re not like that.”

“No, not really,” Bruce replies.

Tony sits up suddenly. “Oh, hey, I almost forgot. I have a present for you.”

Bruce frowns. “You didn’t have to.”

“It’s nothing special,” Tony assures him. “It’s just something I put together.”

Bruce hadn’t gotten Tony anything, and hadn’t known that they were doing that sort of thing. “I didn’t—”

“Your present to me is letting me stay here,” Tony says, cutting Bruce off with an accurate guess as to what he’d planned on saying. “Here.”

Tony’s gift is unwrapped, and is about the size of a textbook in a gunmetal gray.

Bruce takes it and finds a seam along one side. He lifts up and removes a cover, finding a keyboard and a small screen.

“On its face, it’s just a calculator,” Tony says, sitting down next to Bruce, careless of personal space as usual. “But it’s so much more! You can keep track of homework, appointments, test schedules, whatever. And it will do much more complicated equations than your typical calculator.”

Bruce finds the power button and turns it on, and the very basic screen reads, “Hi, Bruce.”

“I’m still working on it,” Tony says. “There’s not a ton of memory at this point, but I figured you could use something to double check your equations. I mean, it’s not like I think you need it really, I just thought—”

Bruce turns to him, and his expression shuts Tony down. “This is the most amazing present I’ve ever gotten.”

Tony’s smile is genuine, and Bruce knows the difference. “Really?”

“Really.” Bruce turns it towards Tony. “What else can it do?”

~~~~~

Tony is showing Bruce all the features of his new extraordinary calculator when a girl sticks her head in. “Mom said to tell you to wash up for dinner.”

Tony feels a moment of alarm. He hadn’t brought anything other than casual clothing. “Do I need to change?”

Bruce frowns, and then laughs, although not in a mean way. “No, she just means we should wash our hands. That’s all.”

“What did you think I meant?” the girl asks.

Bruce rolls his eyes. “Tony, my cousin. Jen, Tony Stark. Tony’s just used to a little more formality than we are.”

Tony figures that’s about the nicest way anyone’s put it. “It’s nice to meet you,” he says.

Jen disappears without saying anything else, and Bruce shrugs. “Told you she was going through a weird phase.”

Tony shrugs. “She seems nice enough.”

“She is,” Bruce agrees with a fond smile. “When she’s not annoying me, she’s great. Come on, let’s wash up.”

It’s not like Tony has to dress up for dinner often; most of the times, his parents are gone, and he eats by himself—if he’s home. When he’s at boarding school, he wears his uniform.

Eating with Bruce’s family is different. He and Bruce share the sink as they wash their hands, and Mrs. Walters has dinner on the table—a large pan of lasagna, a big bowl of salad, and a foil-wrapped loaf of garlic bread.

“This smells amazing, Mrs. Walters,” Tony says as he sits down.

Bruce’s aunt smiles at him. “Thank you. You can call me Elaine.”

Tony had hoped he could get Bruce’s aunt and uncle to like him, and it looks like he’s well on his way, at least with his aunt.

The lasagna is delicious, and Tony devours his portion, mopping up stray bits of sauce with a piece of garlic bread.

“Do you want more?” Elaine asks.

Tony hesitates, not wanting to be rude.

Bruce picks up his plate and Tony’s and passes them to his aunt. “He definitely does,” Bruce says.

“Thanks,” Tony adds. “It really is good.”

Elaine looks pleased. “Someone asking for seconds is the best compliment I could get.”

They’re cleaning their plates for the second time when the front door opens, and Elaine gets up. “Go ahead and finish eating.”

Tony glances over at Bruce, who mouths, “My uncle.”

The fact that Bruce’s uncle is a politician actually makes it easier for Tony to know how to deal with him. Tony has been dealing with politicians his whole life, and he knows what to say and how to say it.

Bruce’s uncle is a tall, spare man with a square jaw and dark hair going gray at the temples. He looks like a sheriff straight out of central casting.

Tony gets to his feet, and Elaine says, “Morris, this is Tony Stark.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sheriff Walters,” Tony says, holding out a hand.

Walters’ grip is firm and warm. “It’s nice to meet you, too. Bruce has talked about you a lot.”

Bruce looks vaguely embarrassed when Tony looks at him.

“Thank you for letting me stay, sir,” Tony replies. “I really appreciate it.”

“It’s good for Bruce to have a friend,” Walters replies.

Tony notices that Walters doesn’t invite the same informality that Bruce’s aunt had, and he knows better than to assume it. “I could say the same,” Tony replies.

Walters sits down to eat and asks, “What are you boys planning on doing while you’re here?”

Bruce shrugs. “Probably just hang out.”

“Well, if you need spending money, just let me know,” Walters says.

Bruce shifts in his chair, like he’s embarrassed he might need money.

“How come I can’t get an advance on my allowance?” Jen asks with the hint of a whine.

Walters frowns at her. “Jennifer, what have I said about whining?”

Jen flushes and stares down at her plate, and Tony feels a stab of sympathy.

“May we be excused?” Bruce asks in a rush.

Elaine nods. “Go ahead. Don’t worry about the dishes tonight. I’ll take care of it.”

Tony follows Bruce into his bedroom, and Bruce shuts the door behind them. He hears another door close down the hall, and sees Bruce wince.

“That happen a lot?” Tony asks.

Bruce shrugs. “He’s kind of hard on her sometimes.”

“I see what you mean about him being the sheriff,” Tony says.

Bruce sits down on the bed. “Yeah, well. He’s not a bad guy, he’s just—”

“The sheriff?” Tony suggests.

Bruce lies back on his bed. “Fair warning, Jen will probably be here in a few minutes.”

“It’s cool,” Tony says easily. In truth, he kind of wishes he had someone like Bruce to run to when his dad is being an asshole.

Come to think of it, that’s exactly what he’d done.

“I’m sorry if it’s kind of boring here,” Bruce says. “I mean, we have an Atari, and Uncle Morris got us a VHS player for Christmas, so we can watch movies, but—”

Tony pokes Bruce in the side to get him to stop talking. “I’ll be fine. I’m here with you, right? We can always make a supply run to the nearest electronics store. We could build something. Or we could go see a movie. I haven’t had a chance to see Dune yet.”

Bruce relaxes a bit. “I just don’t want you to be bored.”

Tony pokes him again. “I’m not going to be bored with you. Or, to rephrase, I’d far rather be bored with you than without you.”

“Stop that,” Bruce says, laughing.

“What? Are you ticklish?” Tony asks and tries to poke him again.

Bruce slaps his hand away, and when Tony tries again, he tackles Tony on his nest of blankets, attempting to return the favor.

They wrestle, neither of them gaining the upper hand, both of them breathless with laughter, until there’s a timid knock on the door, and they freeze.

Tony feels a little strange, like they’ve been caught doing something wrong, although he’s not sure why. It’s just Bruce.

Bruce sits up and straightens his shirt, running a hand through his hair. “Come in.”

Jen sticks her head in. “Sorry.”

“No, come in,” Bruce replies, his voice gentle. “It’s okay.”

“I won’t bite,” Tony adds with a wink.

That actually gets a small smile out of her, but Tony can see that she’s been crying. It seems like a silly thing to cry about, since Walters hadn’t been that harsh, but maybe it had something to do with getting reprimanded in front of a stranger.

Jen plops down next to Bruce and leans into his side. “It’s stupid. I’m stupid.”

Bruce taps her on the nose. “Not even close. You want to see what Tony made for me?”

Jen smirks. “You made something for Bruce?”

Bruce rolls his eyes. “Shut up, brat. Do you want to see it or not?”

Tony envies their closeness, and the way Bruce looks out for her.

He’s less thrilled by Jen’s response to the super-cool calculator that Tony had built. “You two are such nerds,” she says.

“I’m not a nerd!” Tony protests. “I’m awesome.”

“You’re a well-camouflaged nerd,” Jen admits. “But you built Bruce a calculator. All he needs is the pocket-protector to go with it.”

“Just for that,” Bruce says, and starts to tickle her.

She lets out a shriek. “No! Bruce!”

“Take it back,” Bruce replies with a grin as she squirms. “We’re not nerds.”

She laughs breathlessly. “Taking it back doesn’t make it any less true!”

“Say uncle!” Bruce says.

“Uncle! Uncle!” Jen finally yells. “You’re very cool!”

Bruce releases her with a satisfied grin. “And don’t you forget it.”

Tony’s surprised by the raw envy he feels. He knows Bruce’s life isn’t perfect; he knows Bruce has gone through some serious shit. But he’s got an aunt who makes incredible dinners, and an uncle who at least seems to give a damn, even if he’s kind of an asshole.

And he’s got the next thing to a kid sister who may annoy the hell out of him, but who comes to Bruce when she wants to feel better.

“Come on, let’s play a game or something,” Jen says. “I’ll bet Mom would even let you go to the video rental place to rent a movie if you asked.”

Elaine does let them borrow her car to go rent a movie, and there’s a brief, heated argument over what they’re going to rent. Jen wants some stupid comedy, and Tony and Bruce both want Star Wars, so there’s really not much in the way of compromise.

Tony ends the heated debate by offering to pay the rental price for both of them, over Bruce’s protests. “Aunt Elaine gave me money.”

“Yeah, and she fed me dinner, so I’m reciprocating,” Tony says. “I want to see Star Wars, Jen wants to see The Shaggy, D.A., and this way everybody wins.”

“Except for us when we’re forced to watch that movie,” Bruce mutters.

Tony puts an arm over Bruce’s shoulders. “We can make fun of it the entire time, I promise.”

~~~~~

The thing is, Bruce can imagine how awesome his life would be if Tony were around all the time. He can imagine sleepovers every weekend, and study sessions in the library, and trips to the theater and the mall.

His aunt had loaned Bruce her car so they could take Jen to the mall to meet up with her friends, and while they do their thing, he and Tony wander.

“Is this how normal people live?” Tony asks.

Bruce laughs. “I don’t know. You’re not really talking to a normal person.”

“Okay, and I can see why you’d say that,” Tony replies. “But aside from your brilliance, and the dark past, you’re pretty damn normal.”

Bruce smiles, looking down at the ground, shoving his hands in his pockets. No one has ever thought of him as normal, and it’s nice. Really nice. It’s what he’s always wanted to be, ever since he can remember. “Thanks.”

“I mean it in the best possible way,” Tony says quickly, apparently thinking that he’s offended Bruce.

Bruce shakes his head. “No, it’s okay. I just—always wanted to be normal, and I never was.” He looks at Tony out of the corner of his eye. “It probably would take someone like Tony Stark, genius billionaire, to think that I was anywhere close to it.”

Tony’s shoulder bumps his. “I know you think you’re some freak, that you’ve got this huge sign on your back advertising how you’re completely fucked up, but you don’t.”

“Everybody knows something freaky is going on with me,” Bruce argues. “I live with my aunt and uncle, and I’m smarter than anybody else.”

“But when you get to college, none of that is going to matter,” Tony replies earnestly. “And if you go to MIT—”

“I’m not,” Bruce says in a rush, knowing that was going to come up eventually. “I’m sorry.”

Tony stops. “You know already?”

“I got early acceptance into Culver,” Bruce says quietly. “MIT offered me a scholarship, but Culver offered me a better one, and they have a better nuclear physics program. I—I had to take it.”

Tony is quiet for a moment, and then he says, “Well, I’m not going to pretend that I’m not disappointed. I kind of loved the idea of us taking on MIT together in another year.”

“So did I,” Bruce admits. “Tony, I—”

“Don’t,” Tony says sharply. “Don’t ever apologize for making a decision that’s right for you. You deserve to be happy, and if this makes you happy, then I’m all for it.”

Bruce feels miserable, feeling as though he’d dashed Tony’s hopes.

“Hey,” Tony says softly, putting a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “Boston and Virginia are both on the east coast. They aren’t that far away. We can still see each other. We could meet halfway on breaks, when you can’t fly home.”

“I wish we could go to school together,” Bruce says in a rush. “I wish—I wish we could spend every weekend together.”

Tony smiles wistfully. “Yeah, me too. I’m pretty sure I’d rather go to public school with you than go back to Phillips for my last semester, or that you could come with me.”

Bruce wishes he could do something, although he doesn’t know what that would be. What he feels for Tony isn’t normal, and Bruce shoves it aside. “Same here,” he admits, figuring that isn’t a big deal. “You want to go in the music store?”

“Sure,” Tony says. “I could poke around. I think there’s been some decent stuff released, and I haven’t had a chance to browse for a while.”

Bruce doesn’t have a lot of opinions on music, although he’ll turn the radio on sometimes when he’s doing homework, just to have the background noise. Tony, though—Tony has thoughts on pretty much every artist out there, and he’s happy to talk in detail.

And okay, Bruce could pretty much listen to Tony talk all day, but he knows better than to say as much.

He doesn’t mind when Tony talks about the Ramones, and how much he likes their early work, and Black Sabbath and how much he likes “Iron Man.”

Later—years later, lifetimes later—Bruce will look back on that conversation and laugh at the appropriateness of it all. At least, he’ll laugh when his relationship with Tony is back on even footing, and when they’re friends again.

At that very moment, though, all Bruce thinks about is Tony, and the way he talks about music, animated and enthusiastic, in a way that he usually reserves for science.

Tony slaps a cassette against his palm. “No, seriously, this is awesome.”

“I believe you,” Bruce protests. “I just don’t really listen to a lot of music.”

Tony gives him a look. “I would have pegged you as a classical music kind of guy.”

“Then why are you trying to sell me on hard rock?” Bruce asks, amused.

“Just broadening your horizons,” Tony protests. “And if you don’t have a lot of preferences, even better. I can bring you over to the dark side.”

Bruce thinks of waking from his nightmare to hear the hard rock station, and thinks it wouldn’t take much. When he hears one of Tony’s preferred bands, he thinks of Tony, and that night, and that’s not a bad association to have.

He plucks the cassette out of Tony’s hand. “Just for you, man.”

Bruce has some money that he got for Christmas, and he buys Black Sabbath’s Paranoid because if nothing else, he can listen to it and remember Tony.

“I’ll have to listen to this when my uncle isn’t around,” Bruce admits. “He hates hard rock.”

Tony looks delighted. “Let me guess: he’s a Sinatra fan.”

“Something like that,” Bruce admits.

“How much time do we have before we have to pick Jen up?” Tony asks.

Bruce looks at his watch. “Enough time to hit the electronics store, if you still want to.”

“Oh, I think we need to build a better machine, Bruce,” Tony replies, clapping him on the shoulder. “Lead the way.”

~~~~~

The truth is, Tony’s never had a better school break. Other than Bruce’s uncle, there are no high ranking officials, no businessmen, no politicians. Bruce’s aunt cooks dinner every night, and even though Bruce’s uncle isn’t around most of the time, they all sit down to eat together in the evening.

After that first night, Tony helps clear the table, and do the dishes, and once, Elaine enlists his and Bruce’s help with dinner.

Bruce laughs at Tony’s lack of skills in the kitchen, but Tony doesn’t mind. Elaine thanks him for his help, and Tony feels a helpless affection for her, especially when she shows the same sort of easy affection she does for Bruce—ruffling Tony’s hair and kissing his forehead.

Tony feels as though he’s stepped into some sitcom, although the family dynamics are a little more complicated than usual.

And it feels good to have someone who asks where they’re going, and to tell them when they need to be back. It feels good to fall asleep on the floor only a couple of feet away from Bruce, knowing that he could call out, and Bruce would be right there.

When he hears Bruce start to have a nightmare, Tony doesn’t hesitate to climb into bed with him, even though Bruce had warned him not to touch him.

“Come on,” Tony says quietly. “It’s okay. Don’t make me turn on the hard rock station. Your uncle might not appreciate that.”

Bruce wakes with a gasp. “Tony?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” Tony says, pulling Bruce closer. “I’m here.”

Bruce pushes his face against the side of Tony’s neck. “Sorry.”

“Don’t,” Tony orders. “You say that word way too much.”

Bruce huffs a laugh. “And you probably don’t say it enough.”

“Probably not,” Tony admits. “Is this okay?”

“More than,” Bruce replies. “Thanks.”

“You say that too much, too,” Tony replies.

Somehow, he and Bruce slot together on Bruce’s narrow bed, with Bruce’s back pressed to Tony’s front.

Tony hopes that he doesn’t pop wood really inconveniently, because he’s not going to be able to hide it the way Bruce would, given their relative positions.

And then Bruce turns over so that his forehead is pressed against Tony’s shoulder, which removes a lot of the temptation.

They curl up next to each other, Bruce’s head against Tony’s neck, their knees overlapping, their hands on the other’s hips.

Tony fists his hand in the back of the threadbare t-shirt Bruce wears to bed, and he holds on tight.

“You should come to Malibu this summer,” Tony whispers. “We can go surfing together.”

“I don’t know how to surf,” Bruce admits. “I’ve never been.”

Tony snorts. “A California boy like you?”

“Technically, I’m from Ohio,” Bruce replies. “That’s where I was born, anyway.”

“Then I’ll teach you,” Tony promises. “It’s a piece of cake.”

Bruce laughs. “I suck at that sort of thing.”

“It’s mostly just a way to pick up girls.” Tony knows he’s resolutely ignoring his attraction to Bruce—who is definitely not a girl—but he doesn’t see another choice. What he feels for Bruce isn’t safe, strictly speaking. They’re both still dependent on their families, both for support and for being able to spend time with each other.

Right now, Bruce’s aunt and uncle could forbid them from seeing one another, or Tony’s dad could do the same.

Girls are safer, at least for right now.

“I suck at that, too,” Bruce admits.

“But you like girls.” Tony keeps his voice low, hardly able to believe he’s actually asking.

Bruce huffs against his neck. “Theoretically, anyway.”

“I’ll be your wingman any time,” Tony says. “You and me.”

“Always,” Bruce promises.

Tony isn’t used to not getting what he wants when he wants it when he wants it, but he’s also not used to wanting the impossible.

They fall asleep like that, but Tony’s awakened by the first light, and he extricates himself carefully, burrowing into his nest of blankets on the floor. Bruce has had a rough enough time of it; Tony’s not going to make things more difficult for him if he can help it.

“Tony?” Bruce calls softly.

“Yeah, go back to sleep,” Tony replies. “We’re good.”

“Thanks,” Bruce says.

“I told you, you say that entirely too often,” Tony replies.

“It bears repeating.”

“Not by you,” Tony replies. “Not with me.”

Bruce smiles sleepily. “Noted.”

Tony doesn’t sleep after that, not really. He only has one more day before he has to leave, back to his boarding school on the east coast, while Bruce stays here.

The news that Bruce wouldn’t be attending MIT had been more of a blow than Tony is willing to admit, but now he thinks it might be for the best. He’s not sure he could hold out in the face of Bruce’s constant presence.

Tony can see him next summer, and occasionally during school breaks, and that will make things easier.

It’s always going to be him and Bruce. That’s never going to change.

The following day, they hang out and work on the remote controlled cars that Tony had purchased at the electronics store. Jen insists on staying in the same room, but she mostly lies on Bruce’s bed and reads a book, pausing occasionally to ask him the definition of a word, or read something out loud.

It’s no different than any other day Tony’s spent at Bruce’s place, and he’s content with Bruce and Jen, and Elaine asking what he wants to eat on his last night there, and if chicken bake is okay.

Tony has no idea what that is, but he’s liked everything else she’s made so far, so he doesn’t protest.

“We should play games tonight!” Jen says. “Like Monopoly.”

“I hate Monopoly,” Bruce complains. “We could play something else, though.”

Tony glances up. “Backgammon?”

“That’s only for two people,” Jen complains.

“We could play Go Fish,” Bruce offers.

Jen rolls her eyes. “That’s a kid game.”

“You’re a kid,” Bruce teases.

“I’m not a baby!” Jen protests hotly.

“What do you want to play then?” Tony asks, playing peacemaker, which is not a role he’s used to taking.

Jen thinks for a minute. “We could play Pitch.”

“Acceptable,” Bruce agrees.

Tony smirks, enjoying the spats between them more than he probably should.

They have a good time that night. The sheriff turns up halfway through dinner and actually plays cards with them, and he’s a little less competitive than Tony expects him to be. In fact, he thinks he catches the sheriff intentionally giving up a few points to let Jen win a hand, and he likes him better for it.

Bruce sleeps through the night, but Tony doesn’t. He’s restless, and keeps jerking awake, checking on Bruce.

When the light starts to brighten the room, Tony pulls on his clothes and creeps out of the room, Bruce still sleeping.

Elaine is in the kitchen already, and she smiles at him. “Did you not sleep?”

Tony shrugs. “I don’t always.”

“Are you excited to be going home?” she asks.

Tony hesitates. “I’m going back to school. It’s different.”

There’s sympathy in her eyes. “You know you can visit us any time you want, right? You’re always welcome here, Tony.”

“Thanks,” Tony replies, knowing that she means it. He doesn’t often get told that he’s welcome somewhere, and welcome for something other than who his father is. “Maybe Bruce can come visit me in Malibu this summer. I promised I’d teach him how to surf.”

“I think that’s an excellent idea,” Elaine replies. “You’ve been good for him, you know.”

Tony is fairly sure this is the first time anybody has ever said that, too. “I could say the same.”

Elaine pauses to touch his cheek, looking like she’s about to say something, and then checks herself. “Then it’s good that you two found each other.”

He wonders what she’d say if she knew how he felt about Bruce, but thinks she might understand.

“Hey.” Bruce wanders out, still rumpled from sleep, and he leans against the kitchen counter next to Tony, wrapping a hand around his ankle companionably. “You’re up early.”

“You are, too,” Tony counters, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him.

“I woke up and you weren’t there,” Bruce complains.

Tony manages a smile. “Couldn’t sleep. No big deal.”

“Why don’t I make pancakes?” Elaine suggests. “Tony, if you haven’t packed yet, you might want to.”

Tony nods. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

Bruce follows him back to the bedroom, perching on the edge of his unmade bed. “I hate that you have to leave.”

“You can see me next summer,” Tony replies. “I’ll make sure of it. We’ll be in Malibu at least part of the time, and I’ll teach you how to surf.”

Bruce nods, but Tony knows him well enough to sense how unhappy he is. “The summer seems like a long way off.”

“I’ll write.”

“No, you won’t,” Bruce replies, although he looks fond. “You’re terrible about writing.”

“Maybe I’ll send a carrier pigeon then,” Tony counters. “Or a robot.”

Bruce laughs. “I’d believe a robot.”

Tony looks at him, still in his pajama pants and Star Wars t-shirt, his hair sleep-mussed and curling wildly, and feels so damn fond. “Promise you’ll visit this summer.”

“You promised to teach me how to surf,” Bruce replies. “I’m holding you to that.”

“You and me,” Tony promises.

And Bruce smiles, although his expression holds the edge of wistfulness. “Always.”