04 BRUCE B

The lab smelled faintly of burnt wires and fresh coffee. Tony had called it a “fun project,” but you were starting to suspect he just enjoyed throwing two geniuses into a room and seeing what exploded first—literally or emotionally. Bruce sat across from you, glasses sliding down his nose as he scribbled formulas on a coffee-stained page. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, revealing forearms smudged with graphite and oil. You tried not to stare. “Careful,” you teased, leaning over the table. “If you keep scribbling like that, you’re going to set the paper on fire.” Bruce glanced up, a shy smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Coming from the person who almost fried the entire power grid yesterday?” “That was a test,” you shot back, smirking. “And it worked.” He shook his head, amused, before leaning over to peer at the circuit you were assembling. His shoulder brushed yours, and for a second, the world shrank to just the sound of his quiet breathing and the faint hum of lab equipment. Bruce froze when he realized how close he was. He cleared his throat, stepping back. “Uh, you… you’re really good at this,” he said, voice soft. “Don’t sound so surprised, Dr. Banner.” “I’m not,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just… I don’t usually work with someone who keeps up. Tony doesn’t count.”