p • r • e • s • s • u • r • e

nervosa

"You went to culinary school?"

"I was bored."

The scientist chuckled and lifted up a fork laden with pancake up to Tony's mouth.

"Open up."

"No, I'm ok." He gestured with his coffee contentedly.

"Now, Tony."

"Bruce, I'm really not hungry."

"I guess I'll just have to get it all over your sweater..."

"Ok fine!" He rolled his eyes and chomped down on the fork with surprising ferocity. Bruce laughed.

"Wow, that's not half bad," he mused. On the contrary, he thought. It was particularly mediocre and entirely unimpressive. 

 Bruce continued to enjoy his breakfast, feeling just a little bit guilty with every bite. He wasn't sure why.

"I'm gonna...I'll be in my lab."

He shuffled off downstairs. Bruce considered going after him and didn't. He could take care of himself, couldn't he?

Besides, these pancakes are really fucking good.

"JARVIS, let me know if anything happens, okay?" he whispered so the others wouldn't hear.

"Of course, Doctor Banner."

He knew JARVIS would alert him anyway, and it occurred to him that he was only asking for peace of mind.

Tony felt numb, which made him feel frustrated. Bruce didn't deserve this.

He rested his head on his folded arms and tapped out the rhythm to Dire Straits' Brothers in Arms, relishing the deep ache of the table's edge in his chest.

You did not desert me

my brothers in arms...

"Oh, Bruce..." He murmured.

He felt awful. Extremely shitty. Hated how sad Bruce had looked every time he broke down. Tony hated the way he made him sad, hated the way he burdened him. But what he hated even more, was the fact that a little part of him enjoyed it. Not hurting Bruce, never hurting Bruce. But there was comfort in being taken care of, being protected. It was a stark contrast to the way the rest of the world treated him-cold, indifferent, and a mixture of admiration and loathing. It was okay, though. He made sure it was that way. It was easier. But Bruce...

It made him sick.

Tony bounced a fist on the steel countertop, lacking the energy to inflict any damage on either himself or the table. He messed about with one of his gauntlets, and when he tired of that, tried to set his coffee on fire. For some reason. The flames danced, and he quickly extinguished it when he heard the doors behind him slide open.

"Hey. Pancakes were incredible, thank you. You're a regular..." he searched the shelves of his mind for a well-known chef and found one scurrying on the ground. "Remy."

Tony spun his chair round.

"That-" he chuckled. "That's the rat. From the-the movie with the rats. The Rat Movie."

"He's a talented young man and I imagine very soft. It's a compliment."

"Flattered."

"Wanna go for a walk?"

"What?"

"A walk. They updated the high line."

"No, I heard you, but like...why?"