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Tony’s got his arms raised like chicken wings and he’s twisting awkwardly in his chair when Bruce looks over and says, “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” Tony answers, torquing back and forth. “Just--- trying to pop this.”
“Your back?”
“Yep.”
Bruce furrows his brow in concern and Tony laughs.
“Relax, doc. Just a little auto-recalibration.” He grunts and flexes, his back heaving like a cat working out a hairball. “Just gotta--- ngh--- get everything lined up again.”
There’s a stretch of spine right between his shoulder blades that doesn’t take kindly to him sitting like a gargoyle day in and day out. If he’s not hunched over his computer he’s hunched over his work table, and at the end of the day when he finally sits upright again he can feel his overtaxed vertebrae grinding in protest. He rolls his arms in an abbreviated backstroke. He can feel the tension, on the verge of snapping into place if he can just find the right angle, apply the proper amount of force---
“Do you want some help?”
He looks sharply in Banner’s direction. Bruce is watching him with that same quiet, intense focus that he gives everything in the lab, his eyebrows raised in mild intrigue. Tony laughs again.
“What, you got some hot yoga tips? I gotta admit, I gave it a shot, it’s not for me. I’m not a big fan of sitting still.”
“I’ve noticed,” Bruce says. “Don’t worry, it’s a quick fix. Call it manual recalibration.”
Stark shrugs, willing to try anything. “Show me what you got.”
Bruce pushes back his chair and stands, indicating that Tony should do the same. They approach each other and meet in the middle of the lab, at which point Bruce coughs self-consciously and says, “Okay, uh... lie down on the floor.”
It’s Tony’s turn to raise his eyebrows. “Dr. Banner, are you trying to seduce me?”
“And here I thought I was being so subtle,” Bruce smirks, unfazed. “I’m trying to help you, Tony. Do you want it or not?”
Tony’s back twinges uncomfortably. He holds up his hands in surrender and then lowers himself to the ground, though he’s unable to restrain his mock-scandalized giggle when Bruce adds, “Face down, please.”
“I believe you mean prone,” Tony teases, trying to hide his nervousness as he settles onto the floor in just about the most helpless position he can imagine. “As opposed to supine. A lot of people get those confused.”
“Do they, now?”
Bruce’s voice, although a gentle murmur, comes from above him, behind him, out of sight. Not helping with the nervousness. Tony rambles on.
“There’s a really easy way to know which is which. You just gotta remember: supine, on the spine. Prone---” He twitches his hips against the ground. “On the bone.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Tony twists his head, his ear to the floor and his heart jumping up into his throat when he sees Bruce take a step over him and plant a foot on either side of his extremely prone body. He fights the urge to spring up to his hands and knees and bolt.
“You’re not gonna try to walk on my back, are you?” He jokes feebly. “I’m pretty sure that’s only supposed to be performed by tiny Asian women. No offense, big guy.”
“If I was gonna walk on your back,” Bruce points out, “I would have taken my shoes off.”
Instead, he sinks down to his knees, straddling the backs of Tony’s thighs and effectively pinning him to the floor. Oh, sure, this is much better. Tony holds his breath and Bruce must see every muscle in his back and neck go taut with apprehension because he immediately says, “Hey, it’s okay, you’re okay. It’s just me.”
Tony strains to look back over his shoulder and sees Bruce tilting sideways to meet his eyes, his smile soft and encouraging.
“Hey,” he says again. “It’s okay.” He leans forward and lays a hand on the back of Tony’s neck, his fingers pushing into the short prickly hair at the nape. “Relax, Tony.”
They hold each other’s gaze for a long moment. Every instinct in Tony’s body is screaming get off me get off me get off me, horrified that he even let himself get into this position in the first place.
Then, without needing to be asked, Bruce offers, “You want me to get up?”
And Tony surprises himself with how quickly he answers: “It’s okay.”
Bruce smiles again, his thumb rubbing a reassuring circle against the skin. And Tony realizes that he’s not scared, not really, because it is Bruce, just Bruce, and if there’s one thing Tony trusts and believes with all his heart it’s that this man would never, ever hurt him. Bruce would never intentionally cause him pain, and once he remembers that, Tony can feel his heart rate begin to decelerate, beat by anxious beat. He finds himself unconsciously mirroring Banner’s slow, steady breathing. Bruce never once tries to rush him.
Finally Tony releases a long exhale, and as he allows his body to settle he can feel Bruce settling with him, the grip on his neck lightly guiding him as Banner mutters, “Face down, okay, gotta get that back lined up.”
As Tony turns his eyes to the floor again, Bruce’s hand slides from his neck all the way down the length of his spine, familiarizing himself with the terrain. Then he plants his palms at the small of Stark’s back, one on either side of his tailbone.
“When I press down,” he murmurs. “Try to exhale.”
And he leans forward. Tony feels his whole back stretch towards the pressure, his mouth opening soundlessly into the carpet, his eyes rolling back in his head. After a long moment, Bruce rocks back on his heels and moves his hands up a few vertebrae.
“Exhale,” he prompts.
He presses in hard and Tony answers in a groan, “Ahhhhhhahahaha.”
Bruce chuckles. “I hope that’s a good thing.”
After two more shifts he reaches the point between Tony’s shoulder blades, the heels of his hands framing Stark’s long-suffering spinal column. Tony takes a deep breath in anticipation. Then Bruce drops his weight into his hands and Tony’s back goes off like a Black Cat firecracker, crack-crack-crack-crack-crack! while Tony goes “haaarrrrgh” and Bruce grunts “wow, even I felt that one.” It’s like fucking magic. Every bone in Tony’s body turns to jelly and he just about dissolves into a puddle on the spot. Wow. Wow. He can’t remember the last time his back felt so good.
Bruce works his way up a bit higher and digs in again, but his work here is done. Tony is hardly aware of him following the same path back down the spine, doing quick little follow-up presses to make sure he didn’t miss anything. Then he runs his fingers in a few vigorous swipes up and down Tony’s back to cool him down.
“There you go,” he says, patting his shoulder. “All done.” As he swings his leg up and steps off of him, he adds, “Better stay down for a minute. Let yourself adjust.”
Tony unleashes a huge sigh of relief as he turns his head again, making himself comfortable as he lies contentedly on the floor of the lab, in no hurry to get up yet. He looks up and sees Bruce standing over him with his arms crossed and looking quite pleased with himself.
“Feel better?” Banner asks.
“That’s a pretty neat trick,” Stark grins. “You can manually recalibrate me any day, big guy.”
Bruce rolls his eyes and nudges him in the ribs with the toe of his shoe.
“I’m glad I could help.”
Tony’s smile loses its teasing edge, and he adds quietly, “Me too.”
And when he finally stands up again, it really does feel like the weight of the world has been lifted from his shoulders.
__________end.