And there it is. The million dollar question Tony’s been avoiding since waking up with a head full of memories he hadn’t had prior to his arrival. He should have been thinking about it, he knew he was going to have to deal with it, but he hasn’t wanted to. There’s so little of actual value that he has in his life, especially now, that choosing to keep one and lose the other isn’t something he wants to do.
But do it he has to, and right now, because the question’s out there and it needs an answer. When he thought he could have only one of the people he loved, it was so much easier. But both? Both is hard, and Tony hates making decisions. If he thinks about it, though, he knows that he already has. He made it when the Hulk asked about Extremis, and Tony decided to throw away his mortality for him.
“If I stopped what? Loving you?” Bluntness, he decides, is the way to go here. “Don’t be stupid.” He leans over, reaching out to touch his face. This might be difficult to hear, and he’d like to just gloss over it, but Bruce deserves to know. “We didn’t remember this place. I’m not sure why. I didn’t start remembering until I woke up here again. So when I was there, you were, I don’t know, busy with your work and your whole I turn into the Hulk, no one must ever love me thing. And I was too busy having… problems—” He doesn’t know how else to explain the anxiety attacks without actually naming them. “—and then not getting blown up like the rest of my life to do anything about it. But I never stopped. I’m not going to stop. Is this okay?”
It’s his turn to move to kiss him, but he doesn’t quite make contact. Not yet. Not when he’s filled with the irrational fear that Bruce is going to hear that he had a year off without him and take it as an opportunity to get away from him now. “Jesus, I hope so. Because I just spent a year watching you, not being able to have you, and I’d really like to put that behind me.”
no subject
But do it he has to, and right now, because the question’s out there and it needs an answer. When he thought he could have only one of the people he loved, it was so much easier. But both? Both is hard, and Tony hates making decisions. If he thinks about it, though, he knows that he already has. He made it when the Hulk asked about Extremis, and Tony decided to throw away his mortality for him.
“If I stopped what? Loving you?” Bluntness, he decides, is the way to go here. “Don’t be stupid.” He leans over, reaching out to touch his face. This might be difficult to hear, and he’d like to just gloss over it, but Bruce deserves to know. “We didn’t remember this place. I’m not sure why. I didn’t start remembering until I woke up here again. So when I was there, you were, I don’t know, busy with your work and your whole I turn into the Hulk, no one must ever love me thing. And I was too busy having… problems—” He doesn’t know how else to explain the anxiety attacks without actually naming them. “—and then not getting blown up like the rest of my life to do anything about it. But I never stopped. I’m not going to stop. Is this okay?”
It’s his turn to move to kiss him, but he doesn’t quite make contact. Not yet. Not when he’s filled with the irrational fear that Bruce is going to hear that he had a year off without him and take it as an opportunity to get away from him now. “Jesus, I hope so. Because I just spent a year watching you, not being able to have you, and I’d really like to put that behind me.”