Confessions

Author's Note: 

This was my first work in this fandom, so any feedback you have would be greatly appreciated! Comments are adored, whether they be praise, constructive criticism of any kind, or a thought or question you had while reading, and I will endeavor to respond to each comment. Votes are also appreciated.

EDIT (September 27, 2017): Minor formatting errors corrected.

Enough of my ramblings now. I hope you enjoy!

~lexthemess

***

The light of the computer screen glared harshly at Bruce and was echoed by the other technology in the lab, assaulting his eyes as he leaned back in his chair, taking a break from the formulas he'd been studying for the better part of three hours. He removed his glasses and rubbed at his eyes, a headache pounding in his temples and behind his eyes. He bit back a whimper of pain.

"J.A.R.V.I.S., would you please save this for me?" he asked, voice soft in the room filled only with the quiet hum of machines.

"Of course, Dr. Banner," came the reply, just as gentle, the A.I. clearly aware of Bruce's current state.

"Thank you." Bruce propped his elbows on the desk and rested his head in his hands. Around him, the lights dimmed and the computer monitors turned off. "Thank you," Bruce murmured again to J.A.R.V.I.S. He was still often surprised by how J.A.R.V.I.S. would anticipate and meet Bruce's needs without them having to be voiced.

"You're very welcome Dr. Banner," J.A.R.V.I.S. said, and Bruce may have been imagining it, but he thought that he may have heard hints of fondness and concern in the A.I.'s "voice". "May I make a suggestion, Doctor?" J.A.R.V.I.S. asked, still quiet, and this time that was almost certainly concern.

"Go ahead," Bruce said. He folded his arms on the table and rested his forehead on them. That was a little better. God, he was tired. Maybe he could just go to sleep down here. He could take a little nap.

J.A.R.V.I.S. said, "You appear to be suffering from a migraine, Dr. Banner. Perhaps you should retire to Sir's and your bedroom for the evening."

Bedroom. Bed. Quiet. Sleep. That sounded amazing. But the bed would be cold. Tony was in the workshop and likely wouldn't come up for air until one or two in the morning, if that. Bruce didn't want to be alone in their bed.

What he wanted was Tony to be there, holding Bruce. He wanted to feel the strength in Tony's arms as he pulled Bruce against Tony's chest, hear Tony's voice whispering reassurance and words of love. He wanted to lie in bed, Tony wrapped protectively around Bruce as Bruce went to sleep.

A particularly intense pang of pain shot through Bruce's head, strong enough to make his stomach turn and to force a little whine to escape his throat.

"Dr. Banner?"

Bruce heard the question, but he couldn't answer. Didn't care to. His head hurt , and he just wanted quiet. And Tony. Where was Tony? Tony should be there. No, that wasn't right. Tony was in the workshop. He had Iron Man things to do. That was much more important than Bruce's headache. Bruce could deal with it. An Advil or a dozen and he'd be fine.

A hand touched Bruce's shoulder, and Bruce jerked in surprise, another whimper leaving him.

"Hey," and that was Tony's voice, low and worried. Tony was there. When had Tony gotten there?

Bruce sat up slowly and turned in his seat, and an embarrassing wave of relief washed over him at seeing Tony's face. Tony's brow was furrowed in obvious concern as more tears came to Bruce's eyes, this time from a surge of happiness that was ridiculous for a grown man to feel just because his boyfriend showed up when he had a headache. Bruce couldn't stop himself from leaning forward to press his forehead to the taut plains of Tony's abs through the fabric of the worn T-shirt Tony wore. Tony's arms wrapped around Bruce, pulling him closer.