Chapter Text
The two of them had spent quite a while feeling their way around each other. Tony was everything that Bruce could never be in public: loud, confident, enthusiastic. So brilliant and bright that sometimes it hurt to look at him. Even then, Bruce never really stopped looking at Tony Stark, no matter how much it hurt.
In private, the show just kept going. It did slow a little, grow more gentle and just a little quieter, and in between the glorious showmanship and entertainment, he began to get to know Tony inch by inch. He began to feel as needed as he was wanted by a glorious breathtaking man who never quite knew when to stop.
So Bruce stayed and played in Tony Stark's candyland for a while. For a time, SHIELD pretended to, or perhaps really did believe that Tony had delivered him to the port authority that morning when Thor had used the power of the Tesseract to jump between worlds.
Really. How could he run away after seeing that? He and Tony had bounced ideas off of each other for days. SHIELD believing that little lie about his location had helped him to feel safe for a time, just in case he needed to run again and get away from the world that knew him as the monster, even if more of them were starting to believe he wasn't quite as much of a monster as even he himself did. Tony was understanding about that too. Bruce could tell he dreaded him leaving, but he was understanding.
Slowly, the urge to run faded. Little voices of doubt warned him not to get too complacent but it was hard not to enjoy the things that Tony's world of bright days and almost unlimited funding, and all the other things that it had to offer. Especially one crisp autumn morning when the sunshine was like gold trickling through the orange, red and yellow leaves. A faint breath of wind stirred the fallen ones and brought with it a bitter chill and warning of winter lurking just around the corner. They'd worked through the night on a project and Tony had suggested a cup of coffee and some fresh air while their simulations ran. It sounded like an excellent idea to him and that was how he'd found himself walking in the park, a cup of coffee in one hand, the other stuffed into his pocket to guard against the bite of the breeze. Tony had managed to find an equilibrium, something that would allow him to remain silent at Bruce's side. Sometimes, at least.
They paused to sit on a bench, enjoying the quiet of the morning. The sounds of the city were never all that far away, but he was used to that. Sometimes it was easier to deal with than absolute silence, when his own thoughts could turn against him, those voices from his own doubts and his darker moments. Bruce turned his gaze upwards to a perfectly clear blue sky, the mist of his breath curling delicately in front of him.
Then Tony touched him.
Tony had touched him before. Helped him up after a transformation, brushed their fingers together as he handed over a beaker or a sample, even clapped him on the back. So it wasn't a new thing per se. Somehow when Tony brushed his fingers through Bruce's hair it was much more intimate.
Bruce's gaze snapped to Tony, not knowing what to expect or even think.
Tony was holding a leaf between his thumb and forefinger. "Got caught in your hair," he shrugged and grinned impishly. One of the smiles that reached his eyes and was therefore that much more infectious.
"Thanks," Bruce reached up to take it from Tony, turning it in his hand. It was that perfect red gold that caught the sun like fire. He wanted to hold onto it, but he found himself drawn back into looking up at Tony. All brown eyes and boyish charm. "Here I thought it was just an excuse to touch my hair," he joked.
"Well, that too," Tony nodded, reaching over to touch a curl again. "Now that I've tried it, I'm afraid I might be addicted."
Bruce let the leaf fall from his fingers, forgotten. "Tony...," he managed before the words died in his throat. He didn't know what to say or how to react, caught off guard by Tony's gentleness, his quiet grace and just how deep his eyes seemed. "You... you can touch it anytime," he offered weakly.
"You know you're going to regret that offer, right?" he gave the boyish grin again, sliding the fingers of that gentle cautious hand into Bruce's hair. It took every ounce of control and strength not to pull away reflexively. He wanted it - he wanted to feel Tony's fingers curling through his hair.
"Somehow right now," Bruce allowed himself to tip his head towards the warmth of Tony's hand. It had been so very long since someone had touched him so tenderly. "I sincerely doubt that."