Fic: Pendulum, Pt. 11, Bruce/Tony
Title: Pendulum (11/?)
Author: zphal_girl87 and Chevy_sk
Rating: M
Characters: Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Howard Stark, Maria Stark (decd), Brian Banner, Rebecca Banner, Pepper Potts, Betty Ross, JARVIS
Length: 6505/?
Warnings: Abuse, Alcohol, H/C, Sex
Summary: Two highschoolers with brilliant minds and troubled lives find they have a lot in common. While Bruce struggles to cope in an abusive family, Tony longs for an intimacy he's never known.
Notes: Watch the cheers:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mTNqVC5NirU
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mObPWtiGrzs
A lot of students had come early, in groups chatting or helping out. Organizers were still setting up the large pile of wood and tinder to be burned in the pit, along with folding chairs encircling it. There was plenty of space to sit further out though on the grass. Several booths were up, some advertising local venues or radio stations, some promoting awareness of community involvement opportunities, others recruiting for the upcoming Spring sports like lacrosse and track, and of course there were the booths selling food and drinks as fundraisers. It was quite the goings-on. “Where are we sitting?” Bruce asked, his brown eyes flicking around behind his glasses.
“Over there looks good,” Tony motioned at an unoccupied spot on the grass with his chin. They headed over. The pep rally hadn’t quite started yet, and in the distance one could hear Thor and a few other members of the football team warming everyone up with what sounded like camp songs. Tony set down his cooler roughly, narrowly missing his own toes. “Bruce, is he singing ‘Ninety-Nine Bottles of Mead on the Wall’, or am I having auditory hallucinations?” he stuffed a pinkie in his ear.
“I’m pretty sure he is. Though there’s the marginal possibility we’re both having the same hallucination.”
The crowd finished the sing-along with a loud collective roar before dying down, the ladies scooting up to be as close to Thor as possible (including, of course, Jane and Darcy who were rarely ever more than a few short feet away). “Gather, fellow mates of study!” the blonde swept out his arms, row of teeth wide on his maw like a grinning lion. “For tonight, I tell the tale of how the Bilge Snipes came to be so named.” He was punctuated by a chorus of squeals from his female fanbase.
“OH WHO CARES?!” came a loud shout from someone over in the Glendale crowd. A few laughs followed.
“Oh here we go,” Tony grumbled, gesturing towards the Glendale students, “See what I mean?” Bruce merely hmm’d.
Upon hearing such vicious jab thrown at the proud Bilge Snipes, and of further importance, his tale, Thor found himself quite vexed, if one were to put it lightly. Those undignified wretches had been a thorn in his side since before known memory. He wished he could freely sever the disrespectful tongue from each of their snarling jaws. Oh how woesome was fate that he had chosen to retire his mighty hammer at home in its glass case for the Eve of Bon’fyre festivities. “Mind thy ‘fucking’ tongues, impudent swine droppings!” he growled in response, pointing a finger of warning at them.
“Ahlström!” one of the educators barked out.
“Understood, Elder Warner!” Thor responded, humbling himself. It was only then had he noticed among the passersby two faces with which he had previously shared acquaintance, making their way to the chariot lot. He called unto them, irritation forgotten in favor of great gaiety, “Master Stark! Master Banner!”
Thor rose with haste and breached the distance between them. “Oh Jesus Christ!” Tony exclaimed, making failed attempt at shelter behind Bruce as the football champion charged toward them. He captured the both of them in a mighty hug, “It pleases me greatly to see you, friends! Have you come to partake in the festivities?”
“Uhh sure; as soon as my feet can touch the ground again,” Tony ground out.
“It’s good to see you again too,” Bruce wheezed a reply.
“Oh. Apologies, friends!” Thor uttered sheepishly, releasing them, “I seem to have forgotten my own strength once again.”
Bruce fixed his spectacles that had been knocked off-kilter. “We’re just here to watch,” he informed the other student.
“Ah, well there shall be much merriment to behold this night!” Thor swept out his arms, then made a fist, pumping his arm and slamming it to his chest. “Our courageous spirit shall strike fear into the hearts of our foes and ensure us certain victory!”
“How’s about you go on and get back to that?” Tony suggested, none too kindly. “I’m sure everyone is dying to hear your story.”
Theodore’s blue eyes widened. “The tale of our honorable mascot! How could I forget? Forgive me, friends, I must depart,” he bowed to them both and hurried off.
Tony’s eyes rolled as they resumed heading out to the parking lot. “Give a guy one beer, and he follows you around like a puppy dog. Thanks a million, Bruce.” He paused and resumed. “Then again, if what Pepper thinks is true,” Tony stroked his goatee as a cheshire’s grin replaced his own, “It’s probably not the beer that’s got him following us.” He winked and Bruce just chuckled.
As Thor departed to spin his grand tale, Bruce turned to Tony dubiously, “Do I want to know how the Bilge Snipes got their name?” All he knew was that it was a fantastical creature found in Norse mythology.
Tony snorted, “It’s actually a good one, believe it or not. I’ll give you the short version. We used to be Westmore Warlocks, but a few religious groups who’d ran out of Harry Potter books to burn and had kids in our school district raised Hell about it, so a naming contest was held from grades seven to twelve, because those were the schools that had been using the Warlock name. So fast-forward about six months when the entries are being reviewed, and the only coherent and descriptive entry that isn’t a picture of a penis or something of that nature, is about some made-up animal called the ‘bilge snipe’. They were anonymous entries, but Thor was pretty quick to take all the credit even before it was announced as the official mascot. Turns out the board liked how detailed the description was. And seeing how they were imaginary, and not a picture of human genitals, they couldn’t really offend anyone either. Thor even designed the uniform logos.”
Bruce shook his head, amused, “That guy has too much imagination for his own good.”
“Tell me about it,” Tony chuckled.
“So, Theodore asked but... what are we doing here?” Bruce asked his friend as they bent to grab the final two coolers. When Tony had asked him along, he’d accepted to please the other boy without much thought as to why Tony had done so. He went on. “You don’t exactly seem the big ‘school-spirit’ type.”
Tony stuck his tongue out in disgust, “Hell no. Pepper’s on the squad. I came to support her, or at least watch. Not really sure how one supports cheerleading. Its sole purpose is to be the support for the football, baseball, basketball or whatever team and their respective audience. If the supporters need support then the system’s kind of fucked, don’t you think?”
“I think it’s more of an ‘appreciation’ thing,” Bruce theorized with a shrug.
“Heh heh, yeah...” Tony agreed fondly, grinning wider. Though he assumed Bruce was using appreciation in a different context than he was, “Sorry, I’m straying from the subject again.”
“That’s typical for you,” Bruce responded with a smirk. He gave the container in his arms a wobble. “It just seems weird you brought ‘counter-measures’ to an event you don’t care about.”
“I’m not doing it for the school, really. I’m not pro-spirit; I’m just anti-douchebag,” Tony shot back. “If you’re going to pull a prank, that’s fine. But you shouldn’t intentionally hurt anyone in the process.” Tony slammed the cooler down beside the others, his jaw and fist clenched even at the indirect mention of what had happened.
Bruce’s eyebrows lifted. He found it unusual to witness righteous outrage from his friend. “Did something happen?” he asked, setting his own down gently and taking a seat on the top of it.
“Summer before Sophomore year, one of the girls who was on the middle school track team died in a car accident. She was hit by a drunk driver. Her name was Kate, and she was a friend of Pepper’s. We were still dating back then, and she was pretty devastated by it. Went to the funeral with her and everything.” Tony paused, trying to calm himself before telling the rest.
“That’s unfortunate,” Bruce spoke softly; he hadn’t heard of the incident.
“So come November, just before Thanksgiving, we have the big rival game with Glendale like every year. And there was a group of those fuckers, with messages on their cars, shirts, and some of them even had signs.” He stopped again, seething. “They’d enlarged her yearbook photo, put her date of death and the subtitle was ‘Drive home safely, Westmore.’! I had to drive Pepper home because she couldn’t stop crying. Some people make me sick.”
Bruce’s nose wrinkled. “That is pretty tasteless.” He peered over at the crowd of his old school sitting on the opposite side of the fire pit. “Well, hopefully your counter-measures won’t have to be implemented.”
“Yeah, well I won’t be starting anything on my own. I’m too good for first punches.” He opened the lid and pulled out a large blanket, tossing it over the coolers to discourage curious students from taking a peek.
A bus pulled in and stopped near the entrance, opening its doors. Pepper emerged from the throng of cheerleaders filing out, her red hair drawn back into a tight ponytail and holding two pom-poms in Westmore’s school colors which were slightly larger than those held by the other girls, denoting her lead cheerleader status. She stopped, scanning the crowd, and when she located the two boys chilling towards the back, her green eyes lit up. The girl hurried over. “There’s the picture-perfect little gay couple!” she announced with a wicked smile.
“He did tell you how great I was right?” Tony picked the joke up where Pepper left off. Though he was ninety-nine percent sure Bruce would play it straight-edged and drop the ball.
“Yes, Tony, you should be so proud,” Pepper rolled her eyes with a little smile. “I’m glad you two could make it.”
“He was pretty insistent,” Bruce looked over at his friend almost suggestively, as if he had been ‘coerced’ into making it.
“Always nice to have a piece of candy for each eye,” Tony grinned.
Pepper gestured to Bruce with her pom-pom. “I’ll let you.”
The boy reached up and slapped the back of Tony’s head forward.
“He likes it rough,” Tony said as if he were explaining away a love bite.
“And apparently in the buff, if Teddy Ahlström is a reliable witness.” She raised a challenging eyebrow at her ex. Bruce cleared his throat.
“Don’t let him catch you calling him Teddy,” Tony warned, dodging the subject. He proceeded to puff out his chest and quote Thor word for word, in an almost spot-on impersonation, “Teddy?! I am deserving of nothing less than noble designation! ‘Teddy’ is nought but a mere stuffed bear; Thor is the God of Thunder!” Bruce chuckled at the impression.
“Oh, what’s he going to do? Wave that hammer of his at me?” Pepper put both hands on her hips, the pom-poms shaking with the motion. “His little brother’s pointy glowstick is more scary.” She shook her head. “We have the weirdest foreign exchange students.”
“Well, if we were a few years older we could probably round up the space cadets and give remedial lessons,” Tony said smugly.
“Not to deride the remedial education system,” Bruce butt in, “but no amount of teaching could bring them up to speed.”
’Virginia!’ Pepper heard her name called across the grounds.
“That’d be you,” Tony cleared his throat, leaning closer to speak in hushed tones, “You gonna be okay?”
Pepper’s face softened and she nodded appreciatively. Bruce leaned back, watching the exchange mindfully. The two had a lot of history together, and it showed in all their subtle words and actions.
“Well, I brought some early ‘Christmas gifts’ for those Glendale fucks if things get... disrespectful.” He paused, before smirking confidently, hoping it would encourage her as much as his words might. “Keep your head up, babe.”
Pepper beamed at the term of endearment; it alone gave her the will-power to drive tonight’s performance home. “Don’t put yourself in danger for me, Tony,” she expressed, leaning down to peck her old flame on the cheek. Tony pulled her into a hug before sending her off. Old habits did die hard, but at least he was being a gentleman about it.
“Good luck with the cheers,” Bruce imparted as she gave a wave with her pom-pom and hurried away to join her fellow cheerleaders.
“I think she’d be up for a three-way. At least that’s what I gathered from that conversation,” Tony mused.
Bruce issued a snort. “I don’t think she’s into me.”
Tony swallowed. He probably said something a little more telling than he should have. Thinking quickly he tried his best to cover up. “You’re not following at all, are you? Every time she’s spoken to me in the past two weeks it’s been ‘Bruce and you,’ ‘You and Bruce.’. Even now she basically greeted us as a couple. It’s wishful thinking. She wants a genius sandwich, and I’d have half an amazing, over-developed mind to give it to her too.” Even Tony found that to be a somewhat plausible explanation.
“You are a piece of work,” Bruce shook his head, looking straight forward at the girls assembling in the center area and doing his very best not to picture what his friend was suggesting.
“You mean you wouldn’t?” Tony asked incredulously before twisting to unload the cooler, tossing Bruce a sandwich. He then set out a couple bottles of soda, a bag of chips and a sandwich for himself, “Don’t insult my exes. That’s a direct attack on my personal taste.”
“You never did get back ‘Raunchy Red-heads’,” Bruce mumbled as the sound system crackled to life. He pulled apart the ziplock to nudge the sandwich halfway out of the baggie and took a bite.
‘I never got any of them back, but thanks for the tell, Bruce,’ Tony thought to himself as he smirked darkly at the rare bit of information.
“Welcome students of Westmore and guests of Westmore!” came the introductory words from none other than the new Student Body President, Steve Rogers. “I’d like to ask everyone to settle in and find their seats so we can get our Unity Bonfire underway!” He punched the air in front of him chipperly.
“Oh dear God he has a microphone...” Tony groaned, feeling around for that bag of chips he’d pulled out earlier, hand brushing against Bruce’s blindly. Their hands retracted nervously for a split second then, as if they’d both mentally chastised themselves for overreacting at the same time, they settled back down on top of each other. Tony forgot about the chips and just glared in Rogers’ general direction.
“UNITE THIS!” a Glendale student lobbed a roll of toilet paper at Rogers’ head, which unravelled as it sailed through the air.
Steve dodged to the side, keeping his cool; he wanted to lead this assembly smoothly and peacefully, “Nice toss. Try out for the football team next year, son!” he chuckled, hiding most of his nerves behind a white-toothed smile and a big thumbs-up. “So now let’s give a big round of applause to our cheerleading squad, led by the talented and lovely Pepper Potts!”
“Keep your eyes on the crowd, Red White and Blue-balls...” Tony grumbled. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t completely over her, but it was more like a kid not wanting to give a toy away even when he was done playing with it. Tony’d never claimed to be mature.
The Westmore side erupted in raucous cheering; less so from the other side, though there was some supportive clapping. ‘Run Devil Run’ by Ke$ha began to play from the speakers and the cheerleaders began their routine, dancing to the beat and waving their pom-poms back and forth. They re-enacted the lyrics loosely, running in place to each chorus and pointing on the ‘you’s. They switched fluidly between a line-up and a V and groupings of threes. As the song faded out, they each took their own signature pose.
The schools broke out into applause, a few calls for an encore among it. The girls took their bows. It seemed even the rude kids from Glendale could appreciate the performance.
“The Hell did she find time to learn that in between spreadsheets?” Tony mumbled after he’d finished clapping and the crowd died down.
Bruce lowered his hands back into his lap. “Well, since she’s no longer dating the handful that is you, she probably has plenty of freetime,” he needled.
“That’s a fallacy. Completely logically unsound,” Tony snipped back.
“It seems plausible to me.”
Tony raised an eyebrow, “So you’re saying if I stopped hanging out with you, you’d learn how to dance like that?”
Bruce readjusted his glasses pointedly. “No. Now that’s a fallacy.”
“And for your information, I taught Pepper plenty of moves while we were dating,” Tony added with a shit-eating grin, “You just can’t use them in public.”
“Thanks for sharing,” Bruce deadpanned.
The Glendale cheerleaders started their routine, and Tony stood, losing interest already. He pointed a thumb in the direction of the port-o-potties, “I’m gonna go take a piss. He stood up, pushing himself up with the hand that was touching Bruce’s. He’d forgotten it was there. He shrugged it off mentally and set off, turning to call back a ‘be right back’ to his friend.
Bruce nodded in acknowledgement, continuing to watch the performers as he cracked open a ginger ale. It was pretty obvious the Glendale girls were attempting to one-up the Westmore squad, throwing some aerial acrobatics into their number. Pepper was standing off on the sidelines, arms folded and hip cocked, looking frustrated. When they got done, the volume of the Invaders was ear-splitting, a few jeers of ‘SUCK IT!’ and ‘BILGE SNIPES DROOL!’ discernable through the rabble. Looking unable to stand it any longer, the redhead stalked over to Steve, who looked surprised when she began to whisper aggressively into his ear.
“I uh... I’m being informed our school has another routine in store!” Steve announced into the microphone, looking all at once sheepish and utterly confused, but he still had that award-winning smile plastered across his smooth-shaven face. “It must have not made it onto the schedule due to a type-setting error,” he forced a laugh, folding up a pamphlet.
“Why do they get a second act?!” yelled an angry female from the rival school.
Steve smiled apologetically and clicked off his microphone for lack of reply.
“The fuck is going on?” Tony asked, jogging back to the blanket.
“Your ex bullied our ‘prez’ into another routine,” Bruce replied, taking a long draw from his beverage.
“They’re goin’ again? Oh sweet. I can hold it then. Move over, big guy,” he urged, motioning for Bruce to scoot. He did, but Tony still bumped into his side as he sat eagerly. “Kick ’em in the taint, Pep!” Tony shouted through cupped hands, before giving a howl. Bruce rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help but give a snicker as well.
Pepper led her squad back out to the center and gave the DJ a high sign. They took their positions in three staggered lines with Pepper in front and the bass began to thump, auto-tuned ‘oh’s feeding into the lyrics. All at once the cheerleaders began to jerk their bodies up and down, side to side, sweeping out their arms almost as if their limbs weren’t connected to the rest of them. Simultaneously their feet skimmed across the ground as if were skating on ice, stepping in a continuous complicated pattern, yet none of them missed a move or fell out of sync as the electronic tune grooved. Screams of approval and enthusiasm motivated them on-- for a cheer routine, it was lengthy, and one could see sweat starting to sheen on the skin of the females as they continued to give it their all. They broke formation for the final remaining seconds, the two strongest girls coming together to join hands so Pepper could step onto their conjoined arms and be boosted high into the air with a spin. They caught the redhead’s feet and balanced her above their heads such that she towered over the crowd in pyramid formation, as the other cheerleaders to either side performed either the splits or a backflip and then the music cut.
Tony cheered with the rest, until his eyes widened in realization, shooting up like a bullet almost immediately with a yelp of, “Shiiiitgottapee!” as he bolted off to the portable restrooms once again.
Bruce laughed as his friend made a run for it. Out in front, Pepper was bounced to the ground and the all of them stood soaking in the praise as they panted for breath. The members of Glendale that had formerly been talking shit were noticeably quiet as the grave now. A few students from Westmore stood to run out and congratulate the cheerleaders, among them Happy, Bruce noticed, who encompassed Pepper in his arms before exchanging a deep kiss. It made him cock an uncomfortable eyebrow for reasons he couldn’t quite explain-- maybe he was just projecting for his currently absent friend.
--
It wasn’t easy, but Tony had managed to balance himself over the disgusting excuse for a toilet by propping himself up by one hand and using the other to unzip, unfasten, adjust his waistband and aim into the bowl.
“No idea why I’m bothering to fucking aim...” Tony grumbled out loud, “Doesn’t look like anybody else did. Hell! I don’t even know why I’m tolerating a port-o-potty in the first place. I’m Tony Stark. Fuck this shit.” It didn’t make him feel any better, or God forbid cleaner (the sani-wipes in the dispenser by the door could only do so much for a person’s occasional toilet germ paranoia), but at least he got that anger out of his system. He re-dressed himself, threw the door open with a growl, and came face-to-face with someone familiar.
“Oh! Excuse me,” the dark-haired girl apologized nervously, no doubt startled by Tony’s outburst and the portable restroom’s door flying open just inches away from hitting her. Tony was pretty sure he hadn’t met her before, but he couldn’t help but think he knew that face from somewhere. She looked roughly about his and Bruce’s age...
“Oh, don’t sweat it. Have we met before?” He held out his hand, “Tony Stark; I go to Westmore High.” He glanced down at his outstretched hand, then back at where he’d just stepped out of, “It’s clean. Don’t worry.”
The girl brushed some stray hair out of her face, giving a small laugh. “I’m fairly certain we haven’t...” she said as she slipped her small fair-skinned hand into his.
Tony shook it gently, “And you are?”
It was almost as if that detail had escaped her. “Elizabeth Ross,” she said, then shrugged her shoulder, “I go by Betty.” She smiled, charmed by the boy’s outgoing and cavalier demeanor.
Tony raised an eyebrow, “Betty. You go to my school or...?”
“Oh no,” she shook her head at the mix-up, “I go to Glendale. Am... am I in the right place?” Betty glanced around before admitting. “I showed up late.”
That’s when it clicked.
‘This is the girl from Bruce’s polaroid. His old childhood friend! Tony, you are a total BOSS!’
He tried to suppress a grin, not letting go of Betty’s hand, “I’ll show you to your seat, but first there’s someone I think you should see.”
“Well I guess that would be alright...” she said appreciatively, wondering who it was Tony wanted to introduce her to.
He whipped out his phone with the other hand and sent Bruce a quick text, before escorting Betty back in the direction of his and Bruce’s spot.
--
Bruce felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out. ‘Close your eyes and count to twenty.’ He lifted a skeptical eyebrow immediately, and instead of doing as Tony texted, he started to sweep his eyes around the rally for signs of his friend undoubtedly interested in pranking him in some fashion. His phone vibrated again with a follow-up message. ‘You’re not doing it. Trust me. Close your eyes.’
He texted back. ‘Tony, what are you up to? I thought you said you were going to the bathroom.’
‘On my way back now. The Hell am I gonna sneak up on you with? You have all the WMDs right there. Close. Your. Eyes.’
‘Please.’
Bruce sighed. He could always get Tony back if this was somehow a ruse. He stubbornly went silent and shut them.
“Shh... quiet! Just stand here.” He could hear Tony’s voice. But who was he talking to? Bruce’s forehead wrinkled in the middle.
“Okay. You can both open your eyes now.”
“Tony--” Bruce immediately opened his mouth to begin chastising as he opened his eyes, and the rest of whatever his brain had concocted to say was obliterated by the sight of the person standing in front of him.
“Br-Bruce!” Betty stammered in sheer disbelief, incapable of believing she was seeing who she was seeing. “Oh my gosh. I thought you... What are you doing here?? I mean... I-It’s so good to see you again!” she went through many exclamations before settling whole-heartedly on the last one, her hands quivering as she put them to her breast.
Bruce struggled to get a grip on the situation, blinking several times and trying to get something out, but his voicebox just didn’t want to work. “It’s good to see you too...” he finally managed, though the words sounded forced like he’d only mirrored her sentiment as a matter of course.
“I thought you moved away from here...” Betty squeezed the straps on her handmade book bag, tipping her head at him. She was still running through a list of questions in her mind, full of uncertainty and wonder. “Are you visiting or something?”
Jittering, Bruce pushed his glasses up on his nose before standing. “No,” he answered. “I actually live... the same place.”
The coldness of the answer injured her. “Oh.” She got quiet, trying her best to be stoic. Her father always said that ‘boys weren’t worth crying over’. Despite his advice, she’d cried over Bruce several times in the past, but she wasn’t about to start again now because of one chance meeting. “I guess I wouldn’t have known after I stopped coming by.” The statement hung.
Tony watched awkwardly from the sidelines, wondering if maybe he’d made a mistake reuniting them like this. Maybe he was opening up old wounds.
“Betty...” Just saying her name to her felt like swallowing gravel. He had to apologize. He’d been meaning to for years, but he’d never been able to bring himself to do so. But now Betty was right here in front of him, waiting. He couldn’t back out now, he couldn’t run away. He didn’t have an out now; he had to do it. The words tumbled out. “I’m so sorry.” His eyes shut as his head bowed, close to tears.
Those words changed everything. Betty hurriedly closed the distance between them, grabbing his hands to steady them, before wrapping her arms around him. His fingers found a place in the curve of her spine, sliding up slowly to her hair to pet and stroke. Bruce buried his face in her clavicle, glasses pushed up and eyes scrunched shut. “Are we still friends, Bruce?” she asked. She’d been meaning to ask that for years, ever since she kissed him and found out he didn’t like her...
“He still has those stars on his ceiling,” Tony blurted out reflexively from the sidelines, to both his and Bruce’s embarrassment. As he watched them interact, he wondered what exactly the nature of their relationship had been. How close of friends were they even? He felt a pang of loneliness watching, which melted into jealousy, which melted into guilt. “Sorry, that kinda... slipped out...” he corrected himself.
Betty smiled at the revelation, her eyes lighting up at the thought of the good times they’d shared growing up and the knowledge that Bruce hadn’t forgotten those good times either. That he’d never really forgotten her even though awkwardness had driven them apart.
Bruce swallowed roughly; he didn’t know how to answer her question. The way he’d alienated her over the past six years... he’d be lying if he said yes, but saying no... that wasn’t right either. He struggled to find some way to express the tangled mess of logic and emotion inside him. “I-I... I p-pushed you away...” he stroked her hand. “I didn’t want to, b-but I had to... I thought I had to...” he corrected.
“If you want to be friends... then we still are...” She stepped back, wiping underneath her eyes out of habit to check for dampness. “This is a good thing, right? We should be happy.”
Bruce exhaled shakily. Betty was all grown up now; she’d matured into a beautiful young woman. And what was he? he realized. What did she see? He wasn’t who she remembered; he could never go back to being the little boy she’d made friends with in Kindergarten.
Bruce nodded, despite the swell of conflictions deep inside him. “Y-you’re right. We should be.” His fingers tightened on her hands. “I just never thought I’d see you again.”
“Neither did I. If it weren’t for...” She paused, turning to address Tony, “Thank you, so much. How did you know?”
“I... well, I uh... It wasn’t anything like, uh...” Tony stammered, and blushed and looked back at the ground. There was an ease of communication between the two of them now, that threw Tony into a bit of an awkward spot. This new person, all these new variables. It reminded him exactly how bad he could be with new people. He’d been surrounded with familiar people for so long, he had forgotten what it felt like to be the third wheel.
Bruce stared at Tony as well. While he knew the answer to Betty’s question for him, he didn’t surrender it. He was too lost in his own head trying to figure out what had possessed his friend to do this for him, how Tony had even recognized Betty out of so many people here at the rally from one old photograph and a story about stars. Thankful wasn’t quite the right word for how he felt about this. He was far too conflicted for so simple an emotion.
“Bruce and I... uhh... I was over at his house and he told me about you and showed me a picture and... And it was nice to meet you, I uh... You should probably exchange numbers now, cuz I don’t think I’d be lucky enough to find you in a crowd twice, Betsy-- Betty! I should uhh...” He kept looking over his shoulder as he spoke.
‘Get away? Get some fresh air? Go vomit? Get angry at myself for being stupid enough to think I’d be comfortable here? Leave the old flames to rekindle in privacy? Ugh why am I even upset about this?! Even if they like each other, Bruce promised he’s not leaving me behind. So why do I feel like such shit right now?’
“Should what?” Bruce broke the awkward silence-- though he could practically hear the whirring going on in his friend’s head.
“I... I dunno,” Tony lied, “I lost my train of thought there.” He licked his lips. He needed to drink something to wash the taste of bile out of his mouth. “Pass me a soda would you?” Tony licked his lips again, “I need a drink, I got cottonmouth real bad.”
Bruce might have face-palmed if not for present company. Instead he leaned down and grabbed one of the requested beverages, popping the cap before handing it over to his parched compatriot.
“Thanks,” Tony snatched it up and tried to keep from chugging it down, much as he wanted to.
Betty was watching them. “So you two are friends?”
“Yeah, he’s my best friend actually,” Tony said, calming himself.
“We ah... hit it off pretty recently,” Bruce said, rubbing the back of his neck, not wanting to give Betty the impression he’d replaced her too quickly for someone else.
“Stubborn as Hell, this guy,” Tony cut in, surprisingly feeling worlds more comfortable when Bruce was sharing the answering process with him, “Had to break him in. But he really missed you. He was just too scared and dumb to do anything about it,” he punctuated with an eyeroll.
“Bruce, is that true...?” she looked at him with wide eyes like she was surprised to hear the information.
He felt the pit of his insecurity dig a little deeper. Did Tony really have to bring that up?? “I-it’s not like I didn’t think about it...” he stammered, wringing his hands together. He’d thought about it almost daily at first and it had ripped him up inside, but gradually he’d learned to cope and missed her less and less until she was little more than a fond memory akin to nothing more than faded paint on an old ceiling. His head hung somberly.
Betty came forward to stroke his back. “You could have said something, found me, any time...”
Knowing that made it hurt worse. He started to open his mouth again.
“That concludes the intermission!” Steve proclaimed. “If everyone could please gather around and find their way to their seats we can now commence the lighting of the annual bonfire!”
“Oh,” Betty realized. “Maybe you should show me back to my school, Tony.”
“Uhh, yeah, sure,” Tony began, feeling like he’d made Bruce look worse than he actually was, “Look, about what I said; I didn’t mean--”
“Just a moment.” The dark-haired girl removed a pen from the book bag she was carrying on her shoulder. She stepped up to Bruce, taking a hold of his hand and making him hold it open, palm up. Carefully she wrote her phone number onto it with ink before shutting his fingers back closed over it. Betty stared up at him. “Will we see each other again?” she asked, leaving reason for doubt.
He stared back down at her, giving reason for doubt. “I hope so,” he settled.
“Alright,” Tony began to escort her, out of earshot. “And don’t worry about him. He overthinks things. Well... everything. Especially when it’s something he cares about.”
“He always was very cerebral,” she smiled in understanding. “And he never liked to talk about himself.”
Tony just nodded along. Bruce didn’t like to share much, which made it special when he did decide to share things. He wondered in all that time how much Bruce had shared with Betty.
“Hm.” There was a calm silence for a little while, before Tony spoke again, itching for an answer, “So were you two...close?”
“You mean intimately?” she looked for clarification.
“What? No! Of course you weren’t. I mean if you were then that’s cool, I’m not judging you. I just meant like, were you guys... You seemed close, or at least like you were before stuff happened. I’m sorry. It’s a dumb question. I probably sound so insensitive.”
Betty seemed amused, rather than offended by Tony’s blatant awkwardness. “We were best friends,” she spoke softly but importantly, looking the boy right in the eyes. “But I think he’s found someone better.”
He felt his chest pound at what her response was implying of him, but it also hurt because of what she was implying of herself.
“I don’t think he’s grading us, really,” Tony stammered, looking down.
“It’s alright,” Betty assured. “We’ve been apart a long time.” Her eyes threatened to spill over, eyelashes glossy, but still she was smiling. “I’m leaving it to him to decide. I’m glad I got to see him again. Thank you, again.”
“No problem at all. I, uhh, apologise. I forgot how awkward I can get with new people. Nothing personal, it’s just been a while.” Tony scratched the back of his head nervously, ”It really was nice meeting you. I hope it won’t be the last.”
“Me either,” she shared the sentiment.
Tony smiled warmly at her for a short while, letting silence take over. “That should be them over there. I’ll warn you to stay far away from the troublemakers. Don’t want you getting caught in the mess if something happens.”
“I know the ones; I will.”
“Good. That’s a nice blouse, wouldn’t want any malt vinegar to stain it.”
The girl looked tempted to question that statement, but did not, turning to go. Tony stood by and watched her leave, sighing to himself. He’d go back in a few minutes. He needed to shut his overactive mind up now.
Bruce watched their backs from afar as they departed-- one friend who’d known him forever and barely knew him any more, and one friend who’d known him only a few months and knew more about him than anyone. It was an interesting dichotomy. The teen looked down into his palm, seeing the numbers individually but not processing them as a string. He’d been given a choice. To add her number to his address book and reconnect with her later, or let the ink fade into his skin and vanish just like tonight’s opportunity.
He laid down on the blanket and slid his cell back out of his pants pocket to text Tony. ‘I wish you’d filled these coolers with beer after all. How’s that for irony?’
‘Liquor Store? :3’
‘Give it a rest, Tony.’
‘I was kidding. Enjoy sobriety, though. Dick :P’
Author: zphal_girl87 and Chevy_sk
Rating: M
Characters: Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Howard Stark, Maria Stark (decd), Brian Banner, Rebecca Banner, Pepper Potts, Betty Ross, JARVIS
Length: 6505/?
Warnings: Abuse, Alcohol, H/C, Sex
Summary: Two highschoolers with brilliant minds and troubled lives find they have a lot in common. While Bruce struggles to cope in an abusive family, Tony longs for an intimacy he's never known.
Notes: Watch the cheers:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mTNqVC5NirU
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mObPWtiGrzs
A lot of students had come early, in groups chatting or helping out. Organizers were still setting up the large pile of wood and tinder to be burned in the pit, along with folding chairs encircling it. There was plenty of space to sit further out though on the grass. Several booths were up, some advertising local venues or radio stations, some promoting awareness of community involvement opportunities, others recruiting for the upcoming Spring sports like lacrosse and track, and of course there were the booths selling food and drinks as fundraisers. It was quite the goings-on. “Where are we sitting?” Bruce asked, his brown eyes flicking around behind his glasses.
“Over there looks good,” Tony motioned at an unoccupied spot on the grass with his chin. They headed over. The pep rally hadn’t quite started yet, and in the distance one could hear Thor and a few other members of the football team warming everyone up with what sounded like camp songs. Tony set down his cooler roughly, narrowly missing his own toes. “Bruce, is he singing ‘Ninety-Nine Bottles of Mead on the Wall’, or am I having auditory hallucinations?” he stuffed a pinkie in his ear.
“I’m pretty sure he is. Though there’s the marginal possibility we’re both having the same hallucination.”
The crowd finished the sing-along with a loud collective roar before dying down, the ladies scooting up to be as close to Thor as possible (including, of course, Jane and Darcy who were rarely ever more than a few short feet away). “Gather, fellow mates of study!” the blonde swept out his arms, row of teeth wide on his maw like a grinning lion. “For tonight, I tell the tale of how the Bilge Snipes came to be so named.” He was punctuated by a chorus of squeals from his female fanbase.
“OH WHO CARES?!” came a loud shout from someone over in the Glendale crowd. A few laughs followed.
“Oh here we go,” Tony grumbled, gesturing towards the Glendale students, “See what I mean?” Bruce merely hmm’d.
Upon hearing such vicious jab thrown at the proud Bilge Snipes, and of further importance, his tale, Thor found himself quite vexed, if one were to put it lightly. Those undignified wretches had been a thorn in his side since before known memory. He wished he could freely sever the disrespectful tongue from each of their snarling jaws. Oh how woesome was fate that he had chosen to retire his mighty hammer at home in its glass case for the Eve of Bon’fyre festivities. “Mind thy ‘fucking’ tongues, impudent swine droppings!” he growled in response, pointing a finger of warning at them.
“Ahlström!” one of the educators barked out.
“Understood, Elder Warner!” Thor responded, humbling himself. It was only then had he noticed among the passersby two faces with which he had previously shared acquaintance, making their way to the chariot lot. He called unto them, irritation forgotten in favor of great gaiety, “Master Stark! Master Banner!”
Thor rose with haste and breached the distance between them. “Oh Jesus Christ!” Tony exclaimed, making failed attempt at shelter behind Bruce as the football champion charged toward them. He captured the both of them in a mighty hug, “It pleases me greatly to see you, friends! Have you come to partake in the festivities?”
“Uhh sure; as soon as my feet can touch the ground again,” Tony ground out.
“It’s good to see you again too,” Bruce wheezed a reply.
“Oh. Apologies, friends!” Thor uttered sheepishly, releasing them, “I seem to have forgotten my own strength once again.”
Bruce fixed his spectacles that had been knocked off-kilter. “We’re just here to watch,” he informed the other student.
“Ah, well there shall be much merriment to behold this night!” Thor swept out his arms, then made a fist, pumping his arm and slamming it to his chest. “Our courageous spirit shall strike fear into the hearts of our foes and ensure us certain victory!”
“How’s about you go on and get back to that?” Tony suggested, none too kindly. “I’m sure everyone is dying to hear your story.”
Theodore’s blue eyes widened. “The tale of our honorable mascot! How could I forget? Forgive me, friends, I must depart,” he bowed to them both and hurried off.
Tony’s eyes rolled as they resumed heading out to the parking lot. “Give a guy one beer, and he follows you around like a puppy dog. Thanks a million, Bruce.” He paused and resumed. “Then again, if what Pepper thinks is true,” Tony stroked his goatee as a cheshire’s grin replaced his own, “It’s probably not the beer that’s got him following us.” He winked and Bruce just chuckled.
As Thor departed to spin his grand tale, Bruce turned to Tony dubiously, “Do I want to know how the Bilge Snipes got their name?” All he knew was that it was a fantastical creature found in Norse mythology.
Tony snorted, “It’s actually a good one, believe it or not. I’ll give you the short version. We used to be Westmore Warlocks, but a few religious groups who’d ran out of Harry Potter books to burn and had kids in our school district raised Hell about it, so a naming contest was held from grades seven to twelve, because those were the schools that had been using the Warlock name. So fast-forward about six months when the entries are being reviewed, and the only coherent and descriptive entry that isn’t a picture of a penis or something of that nature, is about some made-up animal called the ‘bilge snipe’. They were anonymous entries, but Thor was pretty quick to take all the credit even before it was announced as the official mascot. Turns out the board liked how detailed the description was. And seeing how they were imaginary, and not a picture of human genitals, they couldn’t really offend anyone either. Thor even designed the uniform logos.”
Bruce shook his head, amused, “That guy has too much imagination for his own good.”
“Tell me about it,” Tony chuckled.
“So, Theodore asked but... what are we doing here?” Bruce asked his friend as they bent to grab the final two coolers. When Tony had asked him along, he’d accepted to please the other boy without much thought as to why Tony had done so. He went on. “You don’t exactly seem the big ‘school-spirit’ type.”
Tony stuck his tongue out in disgust, “Hell no. Pepper’s on the squad. I came to support her, or at least watch. Not really sure how one supports cheerleading. Its sole purpose is to be the support for the football, baseball, basketball or whatever team and their respective audience. If the supporters need support then the system’s kind of fucked, don’t you think?”
“I think it’s more of an ‘appreciation’ thing,” Bruce theorized with a shrug.
“Heh heh, yeah...” Tony agreed fondly, grinning wider. Though he assumed Bruce was using appreciation in a different context than he was, “Sorry, I’m straying from the subject again.”
“That’s typical for you,” Bruce responded with a smirk. He gave the container in his arms a wobble. “It just seems weird you brought ‘counter-measures’ to an event you don’t care about.”
“I’m not doing it for the school, really. I’m not pro-spirit; I’m just anti-douchebag,” Tony shot back. “If you’re going to pull a prank, that’s fine. But you shouldn’t intentionally hurt anyone in the process.” Tony slammed the cooler down beside the others, his jaw and fist clenched even at the indirect mention of what had happened.
Bruce’s eyebrows lifted. He found it unusual to witness righteous outrage from his friend. “Did something happen?” he asked, setting his own down gently and taking a seat on the top of it.
“Summer before Sophomore year, one of the girls who was on the middle school track team died in a car accident. She was hit by a drunk driver. Her name was Kate, and she was a friend of Pepper’s. We were still dating back then, and she was pretty devastated by it. Went to the funeral with her and everything.” Tony paused, trying to calm himself before telling the rest.
“That’s unfortunate,” Bruce spoke softly; he hadn’t heard of the incident.
“So come November, just before Thanksgiving, we have the big rival game with Glendale like every year. And there was a group of those fuckers, with messages on their cars, shirts, and some of them even had signs.” He stopped again, seething. “They’d enlarged her yearbook photo, put her date of death and the subtitle was ‘Drive home safely, Westmore.’! I had to drive Pepper home because she couldn’t stop crying. Some people make me sick.”
Bruce’s nose wrinkled. “That is pretty tasteless.” He peered over at the crowd of his old school sitting on the opposite side of the fire pit. “Well, hopefully your counter-measures won’t have to be implemented.”
“Yeah, well I won’t be starting anything on my own. I’m too good for first punches.” He opened the lid and pulled out a large blanket, tossing it over the coolers to discourage curious students from taking a peek.
A bus pulled in and stopped near the entrance, opening its doors. Pepper emerged from the throng of cheerleaders filing out, her red hair drawn back into a tight ponytail and holding two pom-poms in Westmore’s school colors which were slightly larger than those held by the other girls, denoting her lead cheerleader status. She stopped, scanning the crowd, and when she located the two boys chilling towards the back, her green eyes lit up. The girl hurried over. “There’s the picture-perfect little gay couple!” she announced with a wicked smile.
“He did tell you how great I was right?” Tony picked the joke up where Pepper left off. Though he was ninety-nine percent sure Bruce would play it straight-edged and drop the ball.
“Yes, Tony, you should be so proud,” Pepper rolled her eyes with a little smile. “I’m glad you two could make it.”
“He was pretty insistent,” Bruce looked over at his friend almost suggestively, as if he had been ‘coerced’ into making it.
“Always nice to have a piece of candy for each eye,” Tony grinned.
Pepper gestured to Bruce with her pom-pom. “I’ll let you.”
The boy reached up and slapped the back of Tony’s head forward.
“He likes it rough,” Tony said as if he were explaining away a love bite.
“And apparently in the buff, if Teddy Ahlström is a reliable witness.” She raised a challenging eyebrow at her ex. Bruce cleared his throat.
“Don’t let him catch you calling him Teddy,” Tony warned, dodging the subject. He proceeded to puff out his chest and quote Thor word for word, in an almost spot-on impersonation, “Teddy?! I am deserving of nothing less than noble designation! ‘Teddy’ is nought but a mere stuffed bear; Thor is the God of Thunder!” Bruce chuckled at the impression.
“Oh, what’s he going to do? Wave that hammer of his at me?” Pepper put both hands on her hips, the pom-poms shaking with the motion. “His little brother’s pointy glowstick is more scary.” She shook her head. “We have the weirdest foreign exchange students.”
“Well, if we were a few years older we could probably round up the space cadets and give remedial lessons,” Tony said smugly.
“Not to deride the remedial education system,” Bruce butt in, “but no amount of teaching could bring them up to speed.”
’Virginia!’ Pepper heard her name called across the grounds.
“That’d be you,” Tony cleared his throat, leaning closer to speak in hushed tones, “You gonna be okay?”
Pepper’s face softened and she nodded appreciatively. Bruce leaned back, watching the exchange mindfully. The two had a lot of history together, and it showed in all their subtle words and actions.
“Well, I brought some early ‘Christmas gifts’ for those Glendale fucks if things get... disrespectful.” He paused, before smirking confidently, hoping it would encourage her as much as his words might. “Keep your head up, babe.”
Pepper beamed at the term of endearment; it alone gave her the will-power to drive tonight’s performance home. “Don’t put yourself in danger for me, Tony,” she expressed, leaning down to peck her old flame on the cheek. Tony pulled her into a hug before sending her off. Old habits did die hard, but at least he was being a gentleman about it.
“Good luck with the cheers,” Bruce imparted as she gave a wave with her pom-pom and hurried away to join her fellow cheerleaders.
“I think she’d be up for a three-way. At least that’s what I gathered from that conversation,” Tony mused.
Bruce issued a snort. “I don’t think she’s into me.”
Tony swallowed. He probably said something a little more telling than he should have. Thinking quickly he tried his best to cover up. “You’re not following at all, are you? Every time she’s spoken to me in the past two weeks it’s been ‘Bruce and you,’ ‘You and Bruce.’. Even now she basically greeted us as a couple. It’s wishful thinking. She wants a genius sandwich, and I’d have half an amazing, over-developed mind to give it to her too.” Even Tony found that to be a somewhat plausible explanation.
“You are a piece of work,” Bruce shook his head, looking straight forward at the girls assembling in the center area and doing his very best not to picture what his friend was suggesting.
“You mean you wouldn’t?” Tony asked incredulously before twisting to unload the cooler, tossing Bruce a sandwich. He then set out a couple bottles of soda, a bag of chips and a sandwich for himself, “Don’t insult my exes. That’s a direct attack on my personal taste.”
“You never did get back ‘Raunchy Red-heads’,” Bruce mumbled as the sound system crackled to life. He pulled apart the ziplock to nudge the sandwich halfway out of the baggie and took a bite.
‘I never got any of them back, but thanks for the tell, Bruce,’ Tony thought to himself as he smirked darkly at the rare bit of information.
“Welcome students of Westmore and guests of Westmore!” came the introductory words from none other than the new Student Body President, Steve Rogers. “I’d like to ask everyone to settle in and find their seats so we can get our Unity Bonfire underway!” He punched the air in front of him chipperly.
“Oh dear God he has a microphone...” Tony groaned, feeling around for that bag of chips he’d pulled out earlier, hand brushing against Bruce’s blindly. Their hands retracted nervously for a split second then, as if they’d both mentally chastised themselves for overreacting at the same time, they settled back down on top of each other. Tony forgot about the chips and just glared in Rogers’ general direction.
“UNITE THIS!” a Glendale student lobbed a roll of toilet paper at Rogers’ head, which unravelled as it sailed through the air.
Steve dodged to the side, keeping his cool; he wanted to lead this assembly smoothly and peacefully, “Nice toss. Try out for the football team next year, son!” he chuckled, hiding most of his nerves behind a white-toothed smile and a big thumbs-up. “So now let’s give a big round of applause to our cheerleading squad, led by the talented and lovely Pepper Potts!”
“Keep your eyes on the crowd, Red White and Blue-balls...” Tony grumbled. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t completely over her, but it was more like a kid not wanting to give a toy away even when he was done playing with it. Tony’d never claimed to be mature.
The Westmore side erupted in raucous cheering; less so from the other side, though there was some supportive clapping. ‘Run Devil Run’ by Ke$ha began to play from the speakers and the cheerleaders began their routine, dancing to the beat and waving their pom-poms back and forth. They re-enacted the lyrics loosely, running in place to each chorus and pointing on the ‘you’s. They switched fluidly between a line-up and a V and groupings of threes. As the song faded out, they each took their own signature pose.
The schools broke out into applause, a few calls for an encore among it. The girls took their bows. It seemed even the rude kids from Glendale could appreciate the performance.
“The Hell did she find time to learn that in between spreadsheets?” Tony mumbled after he’d finished clapping and the crowd died down.
Bruce lowered his hands back into his lap. “Well, since she’s no longer dating the handful that is you, she probably has plenty of freetime,” he needled.
“That’s a fallacy. Completely logically unsound,” Tony snipped back.
“It seems plausible to me.”
Tony raised an eyebrow, “So you’re saying if I stopped hanging out with you, you’d learn how to dance like that?”
Bruce readjusted his glasses pointedly. “No. Now that’s a fallacy.”
“And for your information, I taught Pepper plenty of moves while we were dating,” Tony added with a shit-eating grin, “You just can’t use them in public.”
“Thanks for sharing,” Bruce deadpanned.
The Glendale cheerleaders started their routine, and Tony stood, losing interest already. He pointed a thumb in the direction of the port-o-potties, “I’m gonna go take a piss. He stood up, pushing himself up with the hand that was touching Bruce’s. He’d forgotten it was there. He shrugged it off mentally and set off, turning to call back a ‘be right back’ to his friend.
Bruce nodded in acknowledgement, continuing to watch the performers as he cracked open a ginger ale. It was pretty obvious the Glendale girls were attempting to one-up the Westmore squad, throwing some aerial acrobatics into their number. Pepper was standing off on the sidelines, arms folded and hip cocked, looking frustrated. When they got done, the volume of the Invaders was ear-splitting, a few jeers of ‘SUCK IT!’ and ‘BILGE SNIPES DROOL!’ discernable through the rabble. Looking unable to stand it any longer, the redhead stalked over to Steve, who looked surprised when she began to whisper aggressively into his ear.
“I uh... I’m being informed our school has another routine in store!” Steve announced into the microphone, looking all at once sheepish and utterly confused, but he still had that award-winning smile plastered across his smooth-shaven face. “It must have not made it onto the schedule due to a type-setting error,” he forced a laugh, folding up a pamphlet.
“Why do they get a second act?!” yelled an angry female from the rival school.
Steve smiled apologetically and clicked off his microphone for lack of reply.
“The fuck is going on?” Tony asked, jogging back to the blanket.
“Your ex bullied our ‘prez’ into another routine,” Bruce replied, taking a long draw from his beverage.
“They’re goin’ again? Oh sweet. I can hold it then. Move over, big guy,” he urged, motioning for Bruce to scoot. He did, but Tony still bumped into his side as he sat eagerly. “Kick ’em in the taint, Pep!” Tony shouted through cupped hands, before giving a howl. Bruce rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help but give a snicker as well.
Pepper led her squad back out to the center and gave the DJ a high sign. They took their positions in three staggered lines with Pepper in front and the bass began to thump, auto-tuned ‘oh’s feeding into the lyrics. All at once the cheerleaders began to jerk their bodies up and down, side to side, sweeping out their arms almost as if their limbs weren’t connected to the rest of them. Simultaneously their feet skimmed across the ground as if were skating on ice, stepping in a continuous complicated pattern, yet none of them missed a move or fell out of sync as the electronic tune grooved. Screams of approval and enthusiasm motivated them on-- for a cheer routine, it was lengthy, and one could see sweat starting to sheen on the skin of the females as they continued to give it their all. They broke formation for the final remaining seconds, the two strongest girls coming together to join hands so Pepper could step onto their conjoined arms and be boosted high into the air with a spin. They caught the redhead’s feet and balanced her above their heads such that she towered over the crowd in pyramid formation, as the other cheerleaders to either side performed either the splits or a backflip and then the music cut.
Tony cheered with the rest, until his eyes widened in realization, shooting up like a bullet almost immediately with a yelp of, “Shiiiitgottapee!” as he bolted off to the portable restrooms once again.
Bruce laughed as his friend made a run for it. Out in front, Pepper was bounced to the ground and the all of them stood soaking in the praise as they panted for breath. The members of Glendale that had formerly been talking shit were noticeably quiet as the grave now. A few students from Westmore stood to run out and congratulate the cheerleaders, among them Happy, Bruce noticed, who encompassed Pepper in his arms before exchanging a deep kiss. It made him cock an uncomfortable eyebrow for reasons he couldn’t quite explain-- maybe he was just projecting for his currently absent friend.
--
It wasn’t easy, but Tony had managed to balance himself over the disgusting excuse for a toilet by propping himself up by one hand and using the other to unzip, unfasten, adjust his waistband and aim into the bowl.
“No idea why I’m bothering to fucking aim...” Tony grumbled out loud, “Doesn’t look like anybody else did. Hell! I don’t even know why I’m tolerating a port-o-potty in the first place. I’m Tony Stark. Fuck this shit.” It didn’t make him feel any better, or God forbid cleaner (the sani-wipes in the dispenser by the door could only do so much for a person’s occasional toilet germ paranoia), but at least he got that anger out of his system. He re-dressed himself, threw the door open with a growl, and came face-to-face with someone familiar.
“Oh! Excuse me,” the dark-haired girl apologized nervously, no doubt startled by Tony’s outburst and the portable restroom’s door flying open just inches away from hitting her. Tony was pretty sure he hadn’t met her before, but he couldn’t help but think he knew that face from somewhere. She looked roughly about his and Bruce’s age...
“Oh, don’t sweat it. Have we met before?” He held out his hand, “Tony Stark; I go to Westmore High.” He glanced down at his outstretched hand, then back at where he’d just stepped out of, “It’s clean. Don’t worry.”
The girl brushed some stray hair out of her face, giving a small laugh. “I’m fairly certain we haven’t...” she said as she slipped her small fair-skinned hand into his.
Tony shook it gently, “And you are?”
It was almost as if that detail had escaped her. “Elizabeth Ross,” she said, then shrugged her shoulder, “I go by Betty.” She smiled, charmed by the boy’s outgoing and cavalier demeanor.
Tony raised an eyebrow, “Betty. You go to my school or...?”
“Oh no,” she shook her head at the mix-up, “I go to Glendale. Am... am I in the right place?” Betty glanced around before admitting. “I showed up late.”
That’s when it clicked.
‘This is the girl from Bruce’s polaroid. His old childhood friend! Tony, you are a total BOSS!’
He tried to suppress a grin, not letting go of Betty’s hand, “I’ll show you to your seat, but first there’s someone I think you should see.”
“Well I guess that would be alright...” she said appreciatively, wondering who it was Tony wanted to introduce her to.
He whipped out his phone with the other hand and sent Bruce a quick text, before escorting Betty back in the direction of his and Bruce’s spot.
--
Bruce felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out. ‘Close your eyes and count to twenty.’ He lifted a skeptical eyebrow immediately, and instead of doing as Tony texted, he started to sweep his eyes around the rally for signs of his friend undoubtedly interested in pranking him in some fashion. His phone vibrated again with a follow-up message. ‘You’re not doing it. Trust me. Close your eyes.’
He texted back. ‘Tony, what are you up to? I thought you said you were going to the bathroom.’
‘On my way back now. The Hell am I gonna sneak up on you with? You have all the WMDs right there. Close. Your. Eyes.’
‘Please.’
Bruce sighed. He could always get Tony back if this was somehow a ruse. He stubbornly went silent and shut them.
“Shh... quiet! Just stand here.” He could hear Tony’s voice. But who was he talking to? Bruce’s forehead wrinkled in the middle.
“Okay. You can both open your eyes now.”
“Tony--” Bruce immediately opened his mouth to begin chastising as he opened his eyes, and the rest of whatever his brain had concocted to say was obliterated by the sight of the person standing in front of him.
“Br-Bruce!” Betty stammered in sheer disbelief, incapable of believing she was seeing who she was seeing. “Oh my gosh. I thought you... What are you doing here?? I mean... I-It’s so good to see you again!” she went through many exclamations before settling whole-heartedly on the last one, her hands quivering as she put them to her breast.
Bruce struggled to get a grip on the situation, blinking several times and trying to get something out, but his voicebox just didn’t want to work. “It’s good to see you too...” he finally managed, though the words sounded forced like he’d only mirrored her sentiment as a matter of course.
“I thought you moved away from here...” Betty squeezed the straps on her handmade book bag, tipping her head at him. She was still running through a list of questions in her mind, full of uncertainty and wonder. “Are you visiting or something?”
Jittering, Bruce pushed his glasses up on his nose before standing. “No,” he answered. “I actually live... the same place.”
The coldness of the answer injured her. “Oh.” She got quiet, trying her best to be stoic. Her father always said that ‘boys weren’t worth crying over’. Despite his advice, she’d cried over Bruce several times in the past, but she wasn’t about to start again now because of one chance meeting. “I guess I wouldn’t have known after I stopped coming by.” The statement hung.
Tony watched awkwardly from the sidelines, wondering if maybe he’d made a mistake reuniting them like this. Maybe he was opening up old wounds.
“Betty...” Just saying her name to her felt like swallowing gravel. He had to apologize. He’d been meaning to for years, but he’d never been able to bring himself to do so. But now Betty was right here in front of him, waiting. He couldn’t back out now, he couldn’t run away. He didn’t have an out now; he had to do it. The words tumbled out. “I’m so sorry.” His eyes shut as his head bowed, close to tears.
Those words changed everything. Betty hurriedly closed the distance between them, grabbing his hands to steady them, before wrapping her arms around him. His fingers found a place in the curve of her spine, sliding up slowly to her hair to pet and stroke. Bruce buried his face in her clavicle, glasses pushed up and eyes scrunched shut. “Are we still friends, Bruce?” she asked. She’d been meaning to ask that for years, ever since she kissed him and found out he didn’t like her...
“He still has those stars on his ceiling,” Tony blurted out reflexively from the sidelines, to both his and Bruce’s embarrassment. As he watched them interact, he wondered what exactly the nature of their relationship had been. How close of friends were they even? He felt a pang of loneliness watching, which melted into jealousy, which melted into guilt. “Sorry, that kinda... slipped out...” he corrected himself.
Betty smiled at the revelation, her eyes lighting up at the thought of the good times they’d shared growing up and the knowledge that Bruce hadn’t forgotten those good times either. That he’d never really forgotten her even though awkwardness had driven them apart.
Bruce swallowed roughly; he didn’t know how to answer her question. The way he’d alienated her over the past six years... he’d be lying if he said yes, but saying no... that wasn’t right either. He struggled to find some way to express the tangled mess of logic and emotion inside him. “I-I... I p-pushed you away...” he stroked her hand. “I didn’t want to, b-but I had to... I thought I had to...” he corrected.
“If you want to be friends... then we still are...” She stepped back, wiping underneath her eyes out of habit to check for dampness. “This is a good thing, right? We should be happy.”
Bruce exhaled shakily. Betty was all grown up now; she’d matured into a beautiful young woman. And what was he? he realized. What did she see? He wasn’t who she remembered; he could never go back to being the little boy she’d made friends with in Kindergarten.
Bruce nodded, despite the swell of conflictions deep inside him. “Y-you’re right. We should be.” His fingers tightened on her hands. “I just never thought I’d see you again.”
“Neither did I. If it weren’t for...” She paused, turning to address Tony, “Thank you, so much. How did you know?”
“I... well, I uh... It wasn’t anything like, uh...” Tony stammered, and blushed and looked back at the ground. There was an ease of communication between the two of them now, that threw Tony into a bit of an awkward spot. This new person, all these new variables. It reminded him exactly how bad he could be with new people. He’d been surrounded with familiar people for so long, he had forgotten what it felt like to be the third wheel.
Bruce stared at Tony as well. While he knew the answer to Betty’s question for him, he didn’t surrender it. He was too lost in his own head trying to figure out what had possessed his friend to do this for him, how Tony had even recognized Betty out of so many people here at the rally from one old photograph and a story about stars. Thankful wasn’t quite the right word for how he felt about this. He was far too conflicted for so simple an emotion.
“Bruce and I... uhh... I was over at his house and he told me about you and showed me a picture and... And it was nice to meet you, I uh... You should probably exchange numbers now, cuz I don’t think I’d be lucky enough to find you in a crowd twice, Betsy-- Betty! I should uhh...” He kept looking over his shoulder as he spoke.
‘Get away? Get some fresh air? Go vomit? Get angry at myself for being stupid enough to think I’d be comfortable here? Leave the old flames to rekindle in privacy? Ugh why am I even upset about this?! Even if they like each other, Bruce promised he’s not leaving me behind. So why do I feel like such shit right now?’
“Should what?” Bruce broke the awkward silence-- though he could practically hear the whirring going on in his friend’s head.
“I... I dunno,” Tony lied, “I lost my train of thought there.” He licked his lips. He needed to drink something to wash the taste of bile out of his mouth. “Pass me a soda would you?” Tony licked his lips again, “I need a drink, I got cottonmouth real bad.”
Bruce might have face-palmed if not for present company. Instead he leaned down and grabbed one of the requested beverages, popping the cap before handing it over to his parched compatriot.
“Thanks,” Tony snatched it up and tried to keep from chugging it down, much as he wanted to.
Betty was watching them. “So you two are friends?”
“Yeah, he’s my best friend actually,” Tony said, calming himself.
“We ah... hit it off pretty recently,” Bruce said, rubbing the back of his neck, not wanting to give Betty the impression he’d replaced her too quickly for someone else.
“Stubborn as Hell, this guy,” Tony cut in, surprisingly feeling worlds more comfortable when Bruce was sharing the answering process with him, “Had to break him in. But he really missed you. He was just too scared and dumb to do anything about it,” he punctuated with an eyeroll.
“Bruce, is that true...?” she looked at him with wide eyes like she was surprised to hear the information.
He felt the pit of his insecurity dig a little deeper. Did Tony really have to bring that up?? “I-it’s not like I didn’t think about it...” he stammered, wringing his hands together. He’d thought about it almost daily at first and it had ripped him up inside, but gradually he’d learned to cope and missed her less and less until she was little more than a fond memory akin to nothing more than faded paint on an old ceiling. His head hung somberly.
Betty came forward to stroke his back. “You could have said something, found me, any time...”
Knowing that made it hurt worse. He started to open his mouth again.
“That concludes the intermission!” Steve proclaimed. “If everyone could please gather around and find their way to their seats we can now commence the lighting of the annual bonfire!”
“Oh,” Betty realized. “Maybe you should show me back to my school, Tony.”
“Uhh, yeah, sure,” Tony began, feeling like he’d made Bruce look worse than he actually was, “Look, about what I said; I didn’t mean--”
“Just a moment.” The dark-haired girl removed a pen from the book bag she was carrying on her shoulder. She stepped up to Bruce, taking a hold of his hand and making him hold it open, palm up. Carefully she wrote her phone number onto it with ink before shutting his fingers back closed over it. Betty stared up at him. “Will we see each other again?” she asked, leaving reason for doubt.
He stared back down at her, giving reason for doubt. “I hope so,” he settled.
“Alright,” Tony began to escort her, out of earshot. “And don’t worry about him. He overthinks things. Well... everything. Especially when it’s something he cares about.”
“He always was very cerebral,” she smiled in understanding. “And he never liked to talk about himself.”
Tony just nodded along. Bruce didn’t like to share much, which made it special when he did decide to share things. He wondered in all that time how much Bruce had shared with Betty.
“Hm.” There was a calm silence for a little while, before Tony spoke again, itching for an answer, “So were you two...close?”
“You mean intimately?” she looked for clarification.
“What? No! Of course you weren’t. I mean if you were then that’s cool, I’m not judging you. I just meant like, were you guys... You seemed close, or at least like you were before stuff happened. I’m sorry. It’s a dumb question. I probably sound so insensitive.”
Betty seemed amused, rather than offended by Tony’s blatant awkwardness. “We were best friends,” she spoke softly but importantly, looking the boy right in the eyes. “But I think he’s found someone better.”
He felt his chest pound at what her response was implying of him, but it also hurt because of what she was implying of herself.
“I don’t think he’s grading us, really,” Tony stammered, looking down.
“It’s alright,” Betty assured. “We’ve been apart a long time.” Her eyes threatened to spill over, eyelashes glossy, but still she was smiling. “I’m leaving it to him to decide. I’m glad I got to see him again. Thank you, again.”
“No problem at all. I, uhh, apologise. I forgot how awkward I can get with new people. Nothing personal, it’s just been a while.” Tony scratched the back of his head nervously, ”It really was nice meeting you. I hope it won’t be the last.”
“Me either,” she shared the sentiment.
Tony smiled warmly at her for a short while, letting silence take over. “That should be them over there. I’ll warn you to stay far away from the troublemakers. Don’t want you getting caught in the mess if something happens.”
“I know the ones; I will.”
“Good. That’s a nice blouse, wouldn’t want any malt vinegar to stain it.”
The girl looked tempted to question that statement, but did not, turning to go. Tony stood by and watched her leave, sighing to himself. He’d go back in a few minutes. He needed to shut his overactive mind up now.
Bruce watched their backs from afar as they departed-- one friend who’d known him forever and barely knew him any more, and one friend who’d known him only a few months and knew more about him than anyone. It was an interesting dichotomy. The teen looked down into his palm, seeing the numbers individually but not processing them as a string. He’d been given a choice. To add her number to his address book and reconnect with her later, or let the ink fade into his skin and vanish just like tonight’s opportunity.
He laid down on the blanket and slid his cell back out of his pants pocket to text Tony. ‘I wish you’d filled these coolers with beer after all. How’s that for irony?’
‘Liquor Store? :3’
‘Give it a rest, Tony.’
‘I was kidding. Enjoy sobriety, though. Dick :P’