I Just Can’t Give You Up
Bruce Banner/Justin Hammer for @winterhulk (@marvelrarepairbingo2022 Secret Santa Exchange)
A short while later, Bruce is dressed and ready to face whoever the hell brought him here. As he descends the spiral staircase, he hears funk music playing nearby: James Brown’s Get Up Offa That Thing. No AC/DC? Definitely not Tony.
At the bottom of the stairs is a roomy living space. One corner is a dining area, and the man at the table springs up and marches towards him. ‘Oh, hey! Good morning! I was starting to worry about you.’
Before he can respond, Bruce’s hand is grasped in a firm shake. ‘You were?’ he stutters.
‘Yeah. You were out for nearly fourteen hours. Must have needed the rest.’ He grins, flashing white teeth. ‘I’m Justin Hammer. I’m guessing you’ve heard of me?’
Of course: the perfectly-coiffed hair, the glasses, the grey suit with matching waistcoat… Justin Hammer has been all over the news lately. He’s not exactly the poster child of selfless acts.
Bruce glances around. There are no bars on the tall glass windows, and the place is full of very breakable furniture and ornaments. ‘Did you… kidnap me?’
‘Kidnap you?’ Justin looks scandalised. ‘Gosh no! Actually, you came to me. I found you unconscious in the snow after Hulk crashed out in my backyard – literally.’ He finally drops the handshake. ‘He also threw a semi into the koi pond, but I’ll get that fixed.’
Bruce laughs awkwardly. ‘Send Tony the bill. Um, I should go before I break anything else.’ He’s already backing away, wringing his hands. The less he has to do with Justin the better.
He’s halfway to the door when Justin calls, ‘You won’t stay for breakfast?’
The final word stops him in his tracks. Bruce is suddenly aware of the gnawing ache in his stomach. ‘I’m not hungry.’
‘You sure? We’ve got waffles, croissants, pancakes, French toast, avocado toast… all vegan, of course.’ When Bruce turns around, Justin shrugs and smiles. ‘Tony’s not the only one who can Google things. You’re like me, you like sweet things.’
The table is clustered with white plates on a blue tablecloth, all piled high with Bruce’s favourite breakfast foods. His mouth waters. ‘Just breakfast, huh? No strings attached?’
Justin sits down, already tucking a napkin into his shirt. ‘The door’s right there. We both know I can’t stop you.’
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