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Acceptance	By : ScereyahaDreamweaver Category: Marvel Verse Movies > Avengers, The Views: 3928 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel (nor the avengers, nor science boyfrinds), It's fandom, nor theses characters, just this interpretation of their relationship, I make no money from this.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
Author's note EDIT:
Okay, so before I get down to this chapter, I wanted to add a note addressing some things that I'm not sure are being stated clearly enough for today's world. There are some things that I thought were clear, which I'm not sure are being interpreted the way I intended, and it's important, very important, that I represent these things properly and not enforce bad ideas.
I'd like to have a brief discussion about consent and how it relates to this chapter. There are a number of things to note, that I'm not sure I've implicitly stated.
1. Actually forcing anything on Bruce is impossible, because of the fact that he'd just hulk-out if something actually upset him.
2. The amounts of chemicals being dealt with are MINUTE -as stated- not even what the brain would naturally make in reasonable real-life happenings. Also Bruce's metabolism is FAST and everything is out of his system almost the moment it stops being fed into him. It would be more impairing to someone's judgement to be really tired or to have an acknowledged crush on someone.
3. For the sake of later chapters, though I didn't think this needed to be stated for the character- if something was happening that Anthony didn't like, you'd hear about it. He does nothing if not brazenly speak his mind, we know that about him, and so does Bruce.
4. They discussed all of this ahead of time -as stated- they might not have both fully realized the potential emotional complications, but they were aware of what they were discussing and agreeing to, and any time Bruce wanted to walk away, he had the ability to. He is given to idly protesting in general, but I'm relatively certain I've made it clear that Anthony can tell when he really means it and does take it very seriously.
5. They've had 40-60 years together of inter personal dialogue. They do understand the way each other communicates very well. Anthony can also directly view Bruce's emotional and mental state in context on a big screen, if something was causing Bruce to have a genuinely negative emotional reaction, he'd be able to see it on screen and in his behaviour.
6. Any time I talk about feeling like their thought is being impaired, I'm being a bit dramatic and describing the kind of feeling that happens with something emotionally/mentally potent is happening and it's got a grip on your attention.
7. Any time I talk about Anthony being worried about Bruce's emotional/mental state, HE's being dramatic. He's worrying overly much and being a bit paranoid about not overstepping boundaries. And I had hoped I had done a good job of exemplifying that.
In addition to that, I'd like to point out that the issue of consent is an important one, and that we don't seem to live in a society where most people have a healthy understanding of it, so educate yourself on it -please-. Lacigreen and sexplanations on YouTube both have great videos about what consent is and what it means in sexual situations, and I encourage you to check them out. That being said, enjoy the kinky smut.
I am also considering updating with a bonus chapter to link this to my next -potential- fic, so stay tunes, and let me know if you want more.
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“Stop.” Anthony heard a rough voice come from the table.

This surprised him, a little, and he smiled to himself. He had not actually done anything, and yet the levels had risen some anyways; that, and the reaction, proving that it was just as much the idea of being caused pleasure that was affecting his friend at the moment. He was not going to keep smiling though, he had been told to stop now, though they were dealing with very small amounts, of course. He had promising results in front of him, and did not really want to stop.

“The danger signs are steadily dropping despite some of your life signs and the amount of adrenaline. You’re moving away from the danger line, not towards it. What’s the hold up?” He shared the results and feigned ignorance to his friend’s problem, trying to convince him to continue.

“What are the readings, exactly?” Bruce asked, clearing his throat, rather than wanting to directly address the misgivings he was having.

“Blood pressure is only one twenty eight over eighty five, Heart rate is one forty beats per minute , which for you is good, but would normally be close to inducing an episode.” He gave some of the basic stats, knowing this would come as a surprise to his test subject.

“So why are we celebrating exactly?” He raised his eyebrow, though he knew there had to be some reason for his friend’s attitude.

“Adrenaline levels are up, but any other stress reactions are lower than baseline, You’re not turning green... A bit red maybe, but no green. Your brain chemistry would seem to suggest you‘re doing just fine. It seems like a successful test to me.” His tone was matter-of-fact and he had the air of clapping his hands together as if to say it was settled, but did not actually make any sudden loud noises.

He could tell just by the chemicals running around in his head that Bruce was enjoying himself and not too stressed about anything.

“And the radiation?” Bruce asked more quietly, still trying to keep his voice level.

“Radiation levels are in the normal range." he assured him.

“Do us a favour, relax and enjoy it." he said, hoping this would not make Bruce feel more awkward.

They both knew this was probably the only way he could feel safe like this, they had discussed as much earlier. He was hooked up to monitoring systems so that he could relax and not worry about his physiologic reactions for once, for science of course; Not that the fact had kept Anthony from making a few uncomfortable implications.

The well-worn expression of patiently holding back annoyance was followed by him laying back and breathing deeply in a very deliberate way.

The question -now- was what to test, and how. Chemically he was in an appropriate state -for what they were testing- but the context was compromised.

“It’s looking like a few synthesized tablets -to get things started- might be a viable answer to your little green problem.”

“Little? Somehow I don’t see it being that simple.” Bruce said wryly.

After all, he had loved and adored Betty more than anything, and that had often not been enough to be with her. On the other hand, things were always so complicated with them, and his fear of hurting her -again- did not help the situation. She had always been unattainable; they had years of sexual tension towards each other and so many unresolved feelings, making her a bad place to start. Conversely, he had never considered being with anyone else, not as the man that was the sum of the parts that he currently liked to think of as Bruce Banner. As other versions of himself in strange alien worlds so far removed from this earth that it seemed like a dream, then he had, but never as himself, and never here; never when she was a possibility.

“So, how about I get a lady in here, so we can test that?” said Anthony, and Bruce could not tell if he was serious or not.

“Can we not?” Bruce said, suddenly looking nervous as he tried to sit up against the restraints.

“Relax, big guy.” Anthony said, amused.

“And can you stop calling me that." he said a bit harshly.

“What, It’s not some sort of ironic nickname, is it?”

Bruce did not dignify that with an answer, except a tightening of his lips and a strong exhale. He let his head rest back against the table.

Anthony watched the screen, saw the spike of annoyance reflected in the man’s life signs, and then him consciously trying to slow his pulse. He smirked to himself a little. He was getting exactly what he wanted. A way to test every limit he could with him and see his immediate and honest reaction, reflected in ratios and precise readings; the intricate math and science of emotion. He was concerned for his friend, after all, and loved problem solving. He was trying not to think about this whole thing as some pet project, but he could not help it. If he could help Bruce with his intimacy issues, then he thought he would feel better about his own situation.

He was about done with the planned tests, but his drive to poke and prod kept him pacing around slowly, trying to think of what he should test, other than just annoying him slightly with misplaced comments. He did not know if Bruce would allow this again. He watched his friend breathing heavily, strapped to the table, and thought with certainty that he would not. On the other hand, the man was rather affection starved, so there was no knowing for sure what he would feel compelled to allow for, especially under the right pretense. People loved a good excuse to have their more basic needs met, and they had come to be close -trusted enough- friends.

He knew what would help the tests, and give him the statistics they needed, but he was not even sure what he himself was comfortable doing. He did at least feel compelled to test, and he knew Bruce would let him know the moment he got uncomfortable. On the other hand, up until now, the idea that Anthony was the one causing his experience was indirect and abstract, and if he compromised that barrier, he might get a very different reaction than the one he was looking for. He tried not to think too hard about what reaction he was -in a sense- after. He reached out a finger to the bottom of one foot.

“Hey.“ A warm tickle on his foot made Bruce laugh a little instantly, and kick the foot automatically.

At that reaction, suddenly it filled him with some devious impulse -that he did not bother trying to place- that Bruce was restrained as he was. He tickled his other foot, briefly, another small laugh and a jerky motion. He paced a bit more. The monitoring system would record all the minute reactions now, and alert them if there was a problem, so he did not bother watching the screen as closely. He just focused on the more telling reactions instead.

Bruce felt the laughter come as a relief. He was getting too tense, laying there with his nerves crawling and his brain flooded with random pleasure chemicals. The tickle put a different context to the endorphins, which was probably counter-intuitive, but less awkward.

Anthony was aware, of course, that it was unproductive, to a degree, but it also would get Bruce to relax a bit and give them the more varied readings to work with. He poked his ribs.

The warm rough fingertip caused a sensation, very ticklish, but also a crawling pleasant feeling, to run up his side.

“Stop that.” Bruce said idly, still nearly laughing.

He surprised himself with the immediate and strong positive reaction to the idea that he was being caused pleasure. A hot fluttering sensation flooded his chest.

“What?” He felt a longer stroke on his ribs.

“Ticklish?” Back down the ribs, Anthony’s playful nature showing through a bit more strongly.

The more consistent stroke had produced a much less ticklish, much stronger reaction that, as predicted, suddenly made Anthony’s involvement seem much less abstract. Bruce felt his face go hot as the crawling pleasure exploded through the nerve over his hip. He was sure the flood of substances in his brain was partially to blame, but he still felt mortified at the small sound he made.

He had thought, after this, that his reaction would have made it clear that it was, in fact, not ticklish. His fellow scientist, however, was either not catching on, or pushing it further for the sake of the experiment, because he had not stopped. Another warm finger, just one -so he could easily claim innocence later, no doubt- ran up his ribs again. Bruce’s embarrassment only got worse when the combination of nerve crawling, endorphins and cool air resulted in the distinct feeling of nipples hardening, and a sudden urge to grab and thrust forward. He tried to jerk his hand up to catch the other’s wrist, for a different reason, but only ended up jerking against the restraints, the motion setting off some assorted other nerve crawling. Even the feel of the restraints was suddenly a little exciting, which was far too much so for his own comfort.

Anthony watched his red-faced friend with a nonchalant, mildly curious look firmly placed on his features. He had some inclination at this point that it was not strictly ticklish, but he did not know where he wanted to go with it yet. He would have looked, to Bruce, a bit like a lazy cat who had caught a mouse, if Bruce could look at him. He moved his finger back down and watched a -decidedly less voluntary- jerking motion.

“Not Ticklish!” Bruce managed to ground out between trying not to make other sounds.

“Oh. Well, that’s better for the experiment then.” Anthony said, seeming unconcerned.

Bruce looked a bit alarming, but he had his eye on the man’s life signs and levels and he seems to be holding steady somewhere in an acceptable range, so far.

Bruce did not know what to think of his friend’s involvement anymore. He knew he enjoyed messing with people, and was a slave to his own curiosity. He also did not quite know what to make of his own reaction. Normally his nerves would not be so sensitive, the experiment and long abstinence to blame, but he could not be sure if it was really just the unexpected situation and the experiment, or if it was some product of their personalities playing off of each other. Whichever it was, either way, this was far too sudden and alarming.

Despite his distress and increasing heart rate, however, he could feel his blood pressure dropping, he did not feel an episode coming on; rather the opposite. He had come to be able to have a communication, of a sort, with his other persona over the years, and could at least generally tell what was rubbing him the wrong way, or the right way. Right now, the other guy was relatively placated by what was happening; pleasure. In addition, the stimulation itself was also making it hard for him to come up with words in his confusion. He knew his language centre was prone to turning off when his adrenaline levels got too high, part of why his other persona could be so inarticulate despite having his own intelligence -albeit often negated by blinding rage- but this was the least convenient time for it. He was trying to tell Anthony to stop. He was having a hard time breathing.

Anthony was torn. On the one hand, he was really pushing some boundaries, hard. On the other, this was ideal for the experiment, making him stressed and causing this reaction, and he might not get another chance. Indeed, it was highly unlikely that he would, after this stunt.

“Tony!” He managed to scold his friend, though it came out sounding more like a moan than an admonishment.

The warm fingers tracing lightly down his sides felt so good he almost did not want to be able to think.

“It’s perfect for the experiment." he said mildly, though his hand paused.

The glare he received broke when the warm fingers resumed their path downward and Bruce’s eyes shut involuntarily.

The feel of his own eyelids fluttering shut did nothing to console his embarrassment. He was strongly considering telling him he wanted to stop the experiment and leave. However, he knew that once he did, it might be too awkward of an ending note to have it start up again. He did not really want to give up on their theories, and they had discussed that something like this would be necessary to test their findings. Additionally, there was still the question of Anthony and himself. If Anthony was doing this for the experiments sake, then he was the one embarrassing himself by reacting too strongly and not cooperating. However, if his friend was doing this for more personal reasons, it raised a completely new issue. If he stormed off -or worse- now, he thought that would probably hurt his feelings enough to affect their friendship. He had not even figured out whether or not the attention was unwanted, just that it was alarmingly sudden; or at least it had seemed so. Looking back it seemed like they had been discussing the possibility of this all along. Either way, he had to get a lid on his emotions, otherwise risk hurting more than Anthony’s feelings.

He closed his eyes and actually tried to concentrate on the fingers on his ribs. It was an innocent enough tickling-like motion; it was pleasant, maybe still too much so. He tried to bring his breathing back under control. He was having a hard time. He felt almost as lost as he did when he started to turn; of course, his brain was being bathed in chemicals with a decidedly different effect and plied with an entirely different stimulation and emotional context. He was trying to come up with words, something that would make his friend slow down without actually spurning him. He was not even sure he wanted to ask anything uncomfortable right now, but they were already past the line of awkward and he felt he needed to know what Anthony’s intentions were.

“Is this what you had in mind when you said you’d come up with something?" he asked, his voice rough.

“Well, we did agree that the next step was testing something a bit more in context… and you’re the one who said you didn’t want anyone else involved.” Anthony answered.

His tone had finally changed away from his posturing and become more consistent with someone covertly attempting to seduce a long-time friend. It did not seem like he had allowed the change on an entirely conscious level, though, and he had now stopped making any eye contact.

Of course, when they had been discussing this, it was all in a rather abstract way. Bruce realized now that all along he had at least made it very clear that he only felt safe or comfortable with Anthony and that he did not want anyone else involved, despite being more than vaguely aware of what these tests could include. It was not just the issue of putting someone else in harm's way, or risking that another person might aggravate the situation at the wrong time, it was also a question of feeling exposed and vulnerable and not wanting anyone he did not trust seeing him that way. He also did not want him touching him in this context if it was just for the experiment. If this was just a game to his friend, just another liberty he was taking with him, with his trust, he wanted him to stop. He did not know whether it was contrived or genuine, so he did not know whether to be angry or nervous.

~*~
A note from the author:
Just another little bit of teasing before I put this down for now. I must go rest, and also return to where I have no net access.
I did change the disclaimer. By "Marvel" I meant to disclaim the whole Marvel multi-verse and all it contains, since the avengers are from all sorts of sub-universes within Marvel, I figured it had me covered pretty well. In any event, I am attempting to make it clear that I do not own anything that Marvel does, I do not and have not worked for them... and I doubt they'd hired me -despite my fantastic skills- since I have written such a fan-fiction with their characters -no matter how fantastic that story might be, or how well one may think I write for said characters-. I hope I got that covered, because I'm not sure what else "Fandom by name" could mean. I don't own the concept of Science Boyfriends... I'm pretty sure it's obvious someone came up with that all on their own before I got dragged forcibly onto this ship.
One day, I was strolling along on shore, just happily thinking of what great friends Mr.Banner and Mr.Stark could be... and then a bunch of pirates (mostly hot women wearing "Pirate Goth" styles in true Norse god fashion) swooped down and tied me up. They then brought me to their ship and regaled me with tails of homo-erotic science, and occasionally pictures of a very pretty god of mischief. Since then I have been tied to their mast (with an umbrella above my head to protect my delicate skin from the sun)... since they didn't appreciate my -totally harmless- pranks, and have been acting in the capacity of a bard, telling poetic well-worded tails of discovery, passion and acceptance of my very own. They have no idea what I have planned in revenge if I ever get loose... but they've been obsessively careful about that. Let me tell you; nothing -NOTHING- matches the obsession of a fan-girl... except maybe a fan-boy. Ladies and gentlemen, I think I'm screwed.
Ps: You still haven't told me if you're ticklish ;p
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Acceptance