#infundo headcanons

**

Although the first test week was adequate, Bruce didn't get the results he'd wanted.

"Less than a kilogram? That's it?"

"Well, we're fightin' nature, Big Guy. I can adjust the formulas of the current weight gain drinks and powders but you still need to consume it fast enough to override your body's heightened abilities."

"It's still not...bad," Steve murmured. "It's some gain, right?" But even he looked a little disappointed.

"I know, I know." Bruce ran a hand through his curls and they toppled over his scalp like loose springs. "There has to be a faster way, though."

Steve gestured at the data pulled from Jarvis. "Is there anything else we could do? I mean, it doesn't look appetizing but you could try one of those heavy duty Vitamix blenders and liquefy your solid foods."

Bruce made a face. "I'd rather not vomit, thanks." He grimaced at his boyfriends. "The problem is trying to eat beyond my point of feeling stuffed. We have to increase my caloric intake but the gains don't last when I'm not physically able to eat enough or fast enough."

Tony rocked on his heels, leveling his steeliest gaze in Bruce's direction. "You know my thoughts, Banner."

Bruce held up a stern hand. "No. I refuse. I told you before it's not safe."

Steve frowned. "What's not safe?"

Bruce briefly glanced at Tony who made a curt go ahead, tell him gesture. "It's...possibly faster."

"Guaranteed faster."

"Allegedly faster," Bruce said a little louder, in case Tony didn't hear him the first time. "I'm not risking massive property damage just to gain a pound or two."

"We could use the Green Room in the basement."

Bruce rolled his eyes. "Not you too, Steve."

"Well maybe I want in on the secrets. The two of you can't keep discussing options without me, because I'm as much a part of our family as you two are."

Bruce and Tony traded uncomfortable glances. "Sorry," Bruce muttered.

"Agreed. We should've included you in the science stuff." Tony made a face at Bruce. "We might as well tell him, mind if I--?"

Bruce sighed testily. "Be my guest. You were going to, anyway."

"Right," Tony murmured, and for penance from pushing his portly bf a little too much he gave Bruce a small peck on his forehead. "It's one option that yields good results: fasting."

"Fasting?" A scowl marred Steve's features. "Isn't that the opposite of what we're trying to do?"

"Yes and no. If we do it right it'll make Bruce hungrier and he'll overeat, even beyond the levels he's eating now. Every five days we can switch up his eating routine."

"And beyond that," Bruce said, sheepishly glancing down. "I've been...working on a few experimental compounds to quicken the results. But I haven't tested my hypothesis and I'm a little unsure of the outcome.

"But fasting..." Bruce paused and sighed. He ran a chubby hand through his curls and nibbled his bottom lip. "Fasting is problematic because it potentially riles the Other Guy. I hope the compound I'm developing works because I'm hesitant to try anything that threatens my calm."

Tony rolled his eyes. "We've got this, hon'. You know we do. We have the Hulk pod in the basement, and you could even stay down there while you get hungry. Not that you'd want to. And Steve and I'll get your favorite take out, after we're done. Double portions of everything."

Bruce's eyes narrowed, and Tony swore he saw a little green. "We've never tested the containment pod. I've never had a need to, and I've never felt in danger since I've been here. I'd rather not unless there are no other options."

"Suit yourself," Tony said, shrugging. "Five years is an awfully long wait for a goal weight, though."

Bruce made another face. "Too long."

"So go for broke," Steve sighed.

"Exactly,” Tony said. “What harm could it do?"

Bruce locked eyes with Tony. "You don't want the answer to that question."

Having heard enough, Steve sauntered over to his favorite scientists. He slung an arm over both their shoulders (though his reach strained over Bruce’s wide back), and gave both a peck on the cheek. "I think the answer is staring all of us in the face," he told them, and both Tony and Bruce gave him the side-eye.

"It is?"

"You know something we don't?” Tony snarked. “Impossible."

Steve chuckled softly. "Bruce, I know It's not something you really like doing, but the Hulk is part of you. And you eat more after a Hulk-out, don't you?"

Bruce folded his arms and planted his feet, as unyielding as a marble statue of himself. "But I also use up a lot of calories. It's a zero-sum game."

Steve nudged Bruce with his chin and immediately Bruce settled into his warm arms. "Muffin. I think both you and Tony will come up with a plan that'll work, but I don't want either of you over-stressing." His gaze flickered to Tony, who finally caved, lips breaking into a small smile. "We'll figure it out. I'm thinkin' maybe we try a little of everything, yeah? Can we start out slowly, just to see what'll happen? We have time. The answer doesn't have to come today."

"Hmm," Bruce sighed. "I guess so."

"Yeah, okay," Tony grumbled. "I guess he's right."

"You're welcome." He kissed Bruce's temple and held out his other hand for Tony to take it. "Tonight, let's enjoy each other's company. A little food, and fun."

"Don't have to tell me twice," Tony said, quickly shutting down their work station.

                                                         * *

**

"Is everything set?"

"For the fiftieth time, Banner--!"

"Stop." Steve felt Tony's shoulder's tense; he was practically vibrating. While Bruce thought Tony was acting cocky, Steve knew Tony's worry was equally high - he just had a weird way of showing it. "We're ready. D'you think you're relaxed enough to sleep?"

"I kinda have to be, don't I?" The nervous chuckle Bruce gave was less than reassuring. "I mean, unless he can take over when I'm wide awake, without me knowing."

Bruce was half-kidding and they could hear his gallows humor loud and clear. Ultimately losing himself to Hulk scared Bruce most, whether or not he voiced it. "We've got this, Muffin," Steve said, and he wrapped his arms as far as they could go around Bruce's midsection. "I'll take point tonight, Tony tomorrow night."

Bruce pointed to Tony. "You're sleeping in your nanosuit, right?"

Tony tapped his chest, and the lights woven into his shirt fabric glowed. "Not as comfy as I'd like, but I'm on backup. Trust us, Pooh. We got this."

"And I'm all set," Steve said, tugging his earlobe. "Jarvis has me connected. I won't miss anything."

"Okay...okay."

Bruce was anything but okay, though, so Steve held out his hands. "C'mon, let's try it," he said, waiting for Bruce to take his hands. He gently guided them back to their bed, crawled on top of the sheets, and motioned between his legs. "Sit."

Bruce's cheeks pinked up, but he swallowed and lumbered across the sheets to settle between Steve's legs. "Now lay back."

"Steve--"

"Do it."

Bruce huffed, but followed Captain America's command. Steve hid his smile; he'd unearthed small ways that calmed his boys, and as much as Bruce fought against the truth he loved Steve cuddling and nurturing him. He initially pretend not to, but Steve felt how quickly tension left Bruce's body when he took control and treated Bruce special. Bruce only accepted the whole, "I'm in charge, I can handle you" treatment from Steve.

And boy, did he take to it.

Steve widened his stance a little more, feeling his body respond as Bruce nestled in. Over the past few weeks he'd noticed Bruce's broadening backside, even if Bruce didn't. "That's it," Steve whispered. Bruce let out a small sigh as Steve cocooned him as much as he could. His arms couldn't reach around like they used to, but they could cuddle.

"Can I be jealous? I think I've got room to be jealous."

Steve chuckled and patted the bed’s edge. "There's plenty of room for both of you on this bed, Tony."

"Mm," Bruce let out a lengthy sigh. Steve could feel Bruce's body sink into his as they all flirted with sleep. He lightly fingered Bruce's curls, easing him further in. "Not for long."

Steve snorted and grabbed a pillow so Tony could lean against his left side. "Not for long," he agreed. "We'll make you into a marshmallow man yet."

"Now that I'd like to see," Tony said, yawning.

Me too, Steve thought, but he didn't voice it.

**

Captain Rogers.

Steve stirred. What--?

Steve. Captain Rogers.

"Uh?" He blinked. What time was it?

Sorry to disturb you, but you did ask me to alert you.

Steve tapped his ear as he became fully conscious. "Jarvis?"

Yes, Captain Rogers. I'm speaking from your earpiece. You asked me to alert you when Doctor Banner woke - he is currently on the move, and headed for the nearest kitchen.

"Oh, right. On my way."

Steve frowned; he should've felt Hulk’s movements, at the very least. Glancing at the other side of the bed Tony was snoring up a storm. Hulk hadn't disturbed Tony either, apparently.

"Jarvis?" He whispered. "Is Bruce...Bruce right now, or Hulk?"

The AI paused.

Apologies, sir. It's impossible to determine at this time.

Great. What the hell did that mean?

"Okay..." Steve made a face and put on his sweats before heading towards the north kitchen. Guess he'd figure it out when he got there. If it was bad he'd tell Jarvis to alert Tony, but he honestly had no clue what to expect.

In hindsight, they really should've asked Hulk more questions when he showed up.

**

As Steve skittered around the kitchen corner, the only thing he noticed was the wide-open fridge door. He'd come from the opposite side expecting to see Hulk towering over the kitchen island, but he didn't see Hulk. He heard intense munching from inside the refrigerator instead.

"Bruce?" He whispered.

"Grrah... No Banner! Hulk!"

What on earth...?

Steve padded over cautiously and peered over the fridge door. It certainly looked like Bruce, crouched and hunched inside the icebox. But there was something...animalistic about Bruce’s demeanor. Large crumbs and half-eaten empty dishes surrounded him while a mountain of food detritus stained the front of his shirt. He hunkered over a casserole dish with a turkey leg, and used said turkey leg to scoop up whatever existed in the casserole dish.

"Is Hulk!" He repeated loudly, spewing food in every direction. He glared at Steve from half-slit eyes and dug his turkey leg into the dish, taking another huge bite. Food bits fell off the turkey and down his robe.

Steve's mouth flew open. He couldn't help but stare a few beats before speaking. "Uh, wow. Now I see it." Hulk was in charge, but he'd kept Bruce small.

Incredible, Steve thought.

"Hmm!" Hulk-Bruce grunted and slammed the turkey leg into his chest as if asserting dominance. "Banner isn't Hulk. Hulk is Hulk. Hulk will make Banner like Hulk!"

Steve couldn't help the grin that suddenly teased the corners of his lips. "You're doing a great job, Hulk," he told him, and Hulk nodded proudly before tearing into the meat.

"Banner's still too puny," Hulk laughed. His voice was a hybrid between Bruce and Hulk's, low and rough with Bruce's timbre. "Hulk can make Banner all chubby, like Banner wants. But Hulk wants real food."

Steve scratched his chin, trying to decipher what Hulk meant. "Do you mean you like different things?"

Hulk grunted and used the turkey leg as a pointer. "Like that,” he growled, pointing to a casserole. “And that. Those are good. Not this." He pointed to a cake.

"Hmm." Steve pursed his lips, musing over the new information. It looked like Hulk liked meat and fried foods, but Bruce typically went for sweets. "Got it. We can have it ready tomorrow, Br--er, Hulk. Just tell us what you want."

"Mm. Good," Hulk muttered. He used the back of his arm to wipe away the food covering his chin and lips. "More of that," he said, pointing to cold fried chicken. "More grease."

"Anything else?" Steve started taking notes in his head. "You can have anything you want."

Hulk perked up, eyes widening. "Anything?"

Within reason, Steve thought, but he wasn't going to deny Hulk if he kept eating like this. "Sure," Steve said. "Name it."

**

"Oh my God." Bruce held his head in his hands as he reviewed the footage early next morning. "Steve, why the hell did you tell him--"

"C’mon, it's not that bad, Pooh Bear."

Bruce's eyebrow quirked as he glared at Tony.

"You're kidding, right?"

Tony shrugged. "It's not impossible."

Steve wrinkled his nose. "I can't understand how he knew."

"He sees everything I do, but he doesn't understand it. That's the problem." Bruce belched and rubbed his tummy. The stuffing from Hulk's night raid hurt, but he hoped to be hungry for lunch later. "There’s no way we can get all that crap. Even if we did, who the fuck could cook it?"

Tony smirked. "Leave it to me. I've got four-star chefs in my back pocket. If anyone knows, they will."

"He'd never know," Bruce muttered, even as Hulk roared in his head. "You could cook anything. He'd eat it."

Tony held up a hand. "Nothin' doin'. My Green Bean wants what he wants, and I'll get it for him hell or high water."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Bruce said, sighing miserably.

Christ. He felt ill.

**

Steve turned off the Hulk footage after viewing it with Tony for the third time. They both agreed it was practically pornographic, but they needed to see it again. For research.

Yep. Research.

"So? Thoughts?"

Tony shrugged, bumping Steve's shoulder. Feeling frisky Tony ran his stocking foot up Steve's leg and Steve had a feeling the three of them would enjoy themselves later.

"It's not as dire as Bruce makes it and honestly, I bet he's secretly pleased. Hulk totally behaved himself, totally stuffed our boy with some high dollar menu items. I have a feeling we'll appreciate the results in a pretty short time."

Steve grinned as his face got hot. "You should've been there, Tony. Hulk's an eating dynamo, nothin’ stopping him. He got filthy, though. Made him take a shower before we went back to bed."

"Bet Hulkie loved that," Tony laughed. "Can't imagine him wanting to take a shower, by any stretch."

"Nah. It was okay. He liked me scrubbing him down. In fact, I think...well."

Tony perked up and maneuvered his body to catch Steve's eye. "What?"

Steve scratched his neck and sheepishly looked away. "I think Hulk enjoys sharing Bruce's body, like last night. It gives him another perspective he doesn't normally have. I got the feeling he wants to take over Bruce’s body more often."

"Hm." Tony's expression sobered. "Don't let Bruce hear you say that. He'll go apeshit."

"I know. He's already concerned about their boundaries and this sharing thing is stressful for Bruce. But is it bad? I mean, Hulk would still be 'out' more or less. But there wouldn't be any property damage. Bruce wouldn't have to worry about Hulk making a mess."

"But he's also blind to Hulk’s actions," Tony countered. "And there's no guarantee Hulk wouldn't take over their body and swell it green if he got mad enough." Tony tsked between his teeth. "I dunno, Steve. I'd keep that between you and me. If Bruce decides he wants more he'll tell us, but I'm kinda iffy on that front."

"Yeah," Steve sighed. "Maybe you're right."

"I am," Tony said. He clasped Steve's arm. "Don't fall into the trap. Hulk is a good bro but Bruce is right; you've gotta watch him. He'll take whatever you give him, and weasel for more."

"Like what he wants for dinner," Steve moaned.

Tony laughed. "Yeah. Like that. I got it set up, though. The caterers'll have it ready by 11 tonight. Just in time for our Green Bean to dig in."

"Can't believe you found someone to cook that...stuff," Steve mumbled. He ran a hand down his face. "You got it so damn fast."

Bruce’s gut rumbled and groaned, echoing his greedy, lustful appetite.  Giving his stomach a small placating pat, Bruce rocked, scooted and shifted his demanding body off the mattress. When Tony softly grunted and Steve's breathing hitched Bruce froze, wondering if he'd woken them. But no. He sighed softly as they returned to their regular sleeping patterns after a beat. Besides, if they did wake for whatever reason they'd know where he'd be and they could join him in the kitchen.

He grabbed his robe (a robe that barely fit, the same robe Tony and Steve swaddled on cold nights) and slowly shuffled to the closest kitchen. He'd be out of breath halfway, but no matter; he had a feeling Tony would cobble together a kitchenette off their bedroom, once walking became too bothersome. 

Humming, Bruce grabbed fried chicken, gravy, mashed potato leftovers and the corn casserole from the fridge and loaded his plate. For good measure he also grabbed ice cream, chocolate cake, and a spoon, nibbling on the sweets while the dinner foods warmed in the microwave. His mind wandered as he waited. A nightly feeding routine had merit. Doing would exhaust him, but he’d  consider it. He could sleep during the day. Or catnap.

Alternately, he could modify a sumo wrestler’s diet to fit his needs, but he had a sneaking suspicion he was already consuming more calories than the average sumo, just to maintain his weight.

Steve was right. The answer was in front of them, somewhere.  So maybe, if he combined Tony and Steve's ideas with his own, and reexamined the Hulk threshold, maybe adding a nightly feeding schedule to boot...

Hmm. It might work.

"Muffin?"

Bruce smiled at Steve's sleepy grin and popped another spoonful of chocolate cake and ice cream in his mouth. "Just got a little peckish."

"So I see." Steve's sleepy grin morphed into something diabolical. "Sit," he said, gesturing at a bar stool at the kitchen island. "You shouldn't waste extra energy by preparing your own meals." Bruce's stool was a little more squat than the others and heavily reinforced. Tony threatened to make the other stools the same for symmetry's sake but he'd never gotten around to it. Bruce honestly didn't mind. He liked having his "own" kitchen seat.

He snorted at Steve's quip and calmly watched the man grab a bowl from the cabinet; Steve wouldn't let him off the hook until he sat and obeyed him. 

"So, Bruce. What's got you up at this hour, besides food?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"More than." He grabbed the hot food from the microwave as Bruce piled ice cream into a bowl and added his toppings - the "good" ice cream toppings, according to Tony.

Steve put the ice cream back in the freezer and gestured to Bruce's food. "Eat up. And tell me what's bothering you."

Bruce hummed appreciatively. He took time to answer, though. He wolfed down half his food before gently clearing his throat. "The pros and cons, I suppose," he murmured.

"Of what Tony's proposing?"

Nodding, Bruce took a few big bites from the chicken before loading up his spoon with the corn dish. "That, and more. I have some ideas, and I think I have something that might work."

"Oh?"

Bruce smirked and shoveled the corn casserole into his mouth. "Mmf," he said, mouth half full. "It's half of what's bugging me."

Steve watched him finish his chicken and casserole before silently piling more mashed potatoes to his plate. "Thanks."

Steve went to the fridge and dumped shredded cheese and butter pats to the rest of Bruce's heated mashed potatoes. "What's the other half, then?"

Bruce twirled his fork through the cheese and fluffed it together, and as he ate  small contented noises rose from his throat. "Ooh, yeah. Perfect," he snuffled before scarfing it. "Mm. 'Kay. So...it's cosmetic."

"Cosmetic?"

"Yeah." Bruce’s fork scraped across his empty plate and he mechanically dug into the cake and ice cream, missing Steve slyly replenishing his dessert whenever Bruce looked close enough to finishing. "It took me this long to appear 'human' to people; to be normal. Sure, I'm pretty hefty, but I'm still functionally normal." He belched behind a curved fist before returning to his plate. He tucked into his next helping of cake and spoke with his mouth full. "I get a few odd stares now, but they're the stares guys my size normally get. I kinda get a kick out of that, to be honest."

Steve chuckled right along with him and grabbed chocolate sauce from the fridge. "So? What's the real issue?"

"The real issue," Bruce sighed, loading up his fork. "Is the monster I see myself bec...oh, that is amazing." He finally realized Steve heated up the chocolate sauce, then poured it over his cake and ice cream. His double chin quivered as he shoved giant bites in his mouth, trying to get in every last crumb of deliciousness.

"Don't choke yourself," Steve teased. But his small smile quickly faded. "You're not a monster. You know that."

Bruce shrugged, but he didn't say anything else until his fork clattered across the empty dessert plate. "Not consciously, no. But I've gotta ask myself, am I coming to terms with it? Is it so bad to be one, really? To own it? I'm not a hundred percent human - and neither are you," he amended, when Steve tried interrupting. "Or half of the Avengers, if we really think about it. Even Tony's genius puts him out of the human category, into something more like super...hm. Super humanity."

"Super human?"

"No. That phrase is trite and beyond overdone. Super humanity has more heart, and creates a space for people like us, as well as others."  He pat his full stomach, feeling more at ease, momentarily mesmerized at how his huge belly jiggled with each pat. "I've begun owning the word 'fat,'" he mumbled, squeezing his rolls beneath his strained pajama top. "Maybe I can reclaim the word 'monster,' too."   

"I'm sure you can, if anyone can do it," Steve said. He opened the freezer back up and took out the ice cream, and grabbed a fresh spoon. "But you're still my Muffin regardless. So let me make sure you're good and full before you wake up again, because you’re hungry."

Bruce smiled softly and opened his mouth as Steve spoon fed him the rest of the ice cream.

***

Still, that night got Bruce thinking; the key wasn't one individualized goal. Maybe, like a monster, he could go all out. Let the journey take flight on its own. He could hang on for the ride and chart its progress.

Dangerous thinking, Banner, he cautioned. The last time he metaphorically let it ride, he had a Hulk for his trouble. But maybe having three consciences would bring out better circumstances. Among the three of them he had a brain, a heart, and a moral compass...which was a darn sight better than just a brain.

"Earth to Bruce. Again."

"Hm?" Bruce snapped up from the book he wasn't reading. His head was nestled in Tony's lap, while Tony played with his curls. Steve had risen from the other end of the couch to gather snacks from the kitchen, so their dog occupied the warm divot Steve's butt left behind.

"You were saying?"

"I said," Tony murmured, kissing Bruce's forehead. "That I noticed you and Spangles made a small night of it. Without me."

"I wouldn't go that far," Bruce said honestly. "I got hungry and Steve and I talked over a few things."

"Oh, really?" Bruce could feel Tony's jealous streak rearing up. He put his book down, and took Tony's hand.

"Nothing major, promise. I told him I wanted to reclaim the word 'monster.' To use it, but in my own way."

"You're not--"

"No, wait. Hear me out." He'd already made peace with the word after his discussion with Steve, but he should've told Tony sooner. It was wrong of him not to. "I'm going to become someone 'otherworldly.' Monstrously huge’, as it were. But I want the opportunity to put my humanity on equal footing with the Hulk. It sounds...weird, but I don't know how else to describe it." He sighed, suddenly wanting another plate of cookies. "I guess I'm making peace with the Other Guy by becoming more like him, in human form. I'm almost excited at the prospect, to be honest. Maybe it'll help us understand one another more."

"Huh," Tony murmured after a long beat. A crooked smile passed on his lips. "I never thought about it that way."

"So...it's not such a crazy idea?" Bruce grunted. Some of his apprehension drained away with Tony’s approval. "There's merit to it, right?"

"Absolutely." Tony squeezed his shoulder. "But now that we're all on the same page, it's time to kick this into full gear. It's been a while since you used yourself as a live test subject - and I know your concerns," Tony interrupted, seeing the deepening crease across Bruce's brow. "But we've got this, babe. Let's pour through your notes and come up with some cool ideas."

                                                              * *