Baby Banner-Stark

Meet Your Daddy

Bruce Banner is a quiet, for the most part reserved, man. Looking at the man with salt-and-pepper curls and square, black glasses, one would not think he was the - arguably - most terrifying of the Avengers.

One also would not believe that he was in a relatively steady and stable relationship with Tony Stark. Though, the matching bands on their left hands tell a different tale.

Bruce Banner loved his husband more than anything, even though he often took certain situations too far.

Like right now.

When Bruce was trying to find out what had been keeping Tony cooped up for so long, this was not what he'd been expecting.

As Bruce looked at Tony's eyes and nose staring at him from a little face with his curls and mouth, he couldn't think of a thing to say. He couldn't think of anything at all, to be honest. His mouth opened and closed for a moment or two, trying to form words because that'sababythat'sababyhowisthattheirbaby.

The thoroughly shell-shocked doctor took a step backwards and almost tumbled to the wall. "Tony..." His voice was rough and he swallowed thickly and cleared his throat. "Tony, what- how- Tony." Brue was pretty sure he was short-circuiting right now.

"You okay there, Brucie?" Tony spoke as if he wasn't standing in the doorway of his lab, rocking a now-sleeping baby in a blue blanket. "Come on, come in here." He jerked his head as he stepped aside.

Bruce autopiloted into the lab, and stood near a lab table. He clutched the edge of the table as he stared at the white workspace, listening to Tony putter around a minute. There was a sofa in the corner of the lab, he heard Tony sink into it and the baby fussed for a minute and Bruce shut his eyes. I'm dreaming. This isn't happening. Not real, I'm dreaming, notrealnotrealnotreal.

"Bruce?" His eyes opened and he whirled to see Tony propped in the corner of the black leather sofa, child propped on his leg and arm as the engineer eyed the doctor. "Come sit." His tone broke no argument.

Still running without thought, Bruce went and - with enough active thought in the decision - sat on the opposite side of the couch. "Tony, what did you do?"

"You remember last New Year's when we were all relatively drunk in the living room?" Bruce did remembered that night, vaguely since it was a bit over a year ago.

"What does that have to do with anything - with this?" He gestured widely at the sleeping infant.

"You said you wanted kids. We were married for two years before that day, and you never told me that you wanted kids. I had to hear it in the midst of a drunken conversation with the team and you know what? That hurt me, Bruce." Bruce winced and decided it'd be best to keep his eyes on the blue glow of his husband's arc reactor.

Tony continued as though he hadn't seen it. "It stung pretty badly, but then I watched you for a while and I saw it. The way you looked at kids we passed, that sad little smile you got on your face. I knew that that feeling, that belief that you could never be a father must hurt you a hell of a lot more than my petty upset over you not confiding in me."

Bruce looked at his husband's eyes, warm brown orbs surrounded by crinkles as Tony smiled at him. "Tony, I'm - I'm sorry. It wasn't supposed to be anything against you, I just-"

"I know, babe, I get it. I know you, and I also knew that you wouldn't even think about adoption. Your tremendous guilt trip about the Other Guy wouldn't allow you to even dare think about it. You are completely unsure - and against testing - if your 'condition' would be passed on genetically. Which throws surrogacy pretty much out a window."

Bruce could only nod.

"Finally, I figured it out. It is ridiculously easy to get a sperm sample from your husband, for obvious reasons. I took your sample and my own, and got to work. I took your genes - free of any and all radiation - and filled in the gaps with my own. Took a few tries, but I got the mix to take. A bit more science and nine months later, meaning about a week ago, this little guy was born." Tony shifted and cuddled the baby closer to his chest, running a hand down his cheek. Bruce's eyes tracked the movement, heart clenching in yearning. He didn't want to admit, even to himself, how much he wanted to hold the baby.

Tony saw it, smiled and shifted closer, sitting right next to his doctor. The baby flailed a bit at the movement and squeaked, his tiny Tony-nose scrunching in protest. "Hold out your arms."

Bruce suspected he was in shock, because he was still felt like a quinjet on autopilot, limbs doing as requested without being told. The warm, solid weight of an infant was placed in his waiting - and subconsciously, simultaneously excited and frightened - arms. The child startled for a moment, before turning his head into his father's chest and drifting off again.

"Bruce meet our son, Mathew Aiden Banner-Stark, born on the fifth of December, weighing a whopping seven pounds, fifteen ounces and nineteen inches long. Completely gamma-free. Mattie, meet your worry-wart of a daddy."

Bruce couldn't help it. The shock wore off and the reality hit him: he had a son. He and Tony had a child together, one who hadn't inherited his "little problem." His forehead touched Mathew's and his shoulders shook with almost-but-not-quite-silent sobs.

Tony's arms were around him instantly. "Sh, it's okay. I know, I should have talked to you first, but I wanted to surprise you and keep you from talking me out of it. We can do it together, Brucey."

Bruce was shaking his head before the engineer was halfway through his second sentence. "That's not it. Tony, you've got it so wrong. This is- what you've done for me, for us... I can't thank you enough." His shimmering brown eyes stared into Tony's. "You have given me something that I never, ever thought could be achieved. I know your own reservations about being a father and for you to do this..." He could think of any words, so he used his free hand to tangle into Tony's shirt collar and yank him into a kiss, hoping to convey the words he was failing at saying.

"I love you." It was thoughtless and simultaneous, causing both speakers to laugh, and the baby to fuss at being disturbed.

"He's probably hungry, it's about that time. You want to feed him?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I do." Bruce watched as Tony moved about the lab to a cupboard. It was different than the others; this one was sturdy, wooden, and light blue. He made a bottle, tested it on his wrist, and handed it to Bruce.

As he got the baby to start eating, he looked at his husband, who watched with an unknown emotion in his eyes. "So...how long did you have to research and practice that before you got comfortable enough to actually feed Mattie?" The nickname rolled off his tongue with unreal ease, as Tony laughed and swatted at his head.

The two sat side-by-side, while Bruce fed, burped and rocked their son for the first time. Tony knew JARVIS had been taking pictures periodically, unasked, just as he had on Tony's first day with the boy. Despite the photographic evidence, Tony would deny the fact that he cried with his last breath. The AI was programmed to know his maker better than the engineer knew himself.

Eventually, Tony pried the now sleeping Mattie from Bruce's arms and after changing his diaper, laid him in a sturdy white and blue crib set on the other side of the sofa, far away from the lab equipment.

Bruce gathered Tony in his arms and stretched across the couch, cuddling him and trying to deal with the euphoria and tenderness he was feeling right now. It was all he could do, not to cry again as he kissed and clutched at Tony.

As it was, a few tears leaked out and Tony shushed him, his own eyes shining. After a warm, soft silence, filled with the whirring of Dum-E, Butterfingers, and U, Bruce thought of something.

"How do you think the others are going to react?" He murmured sleepily, only to be answered by Tony's warm laugh.