Bruce sat up slowly, stretching his back out like a cat. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes while glancing sleepily to the clock. Four AM. Time to go to bed. He hopped off the lab stool where he had been working on an experiment and shuffled towards his room.

His room in the Stark tower, that is.

Bruce had declined at first, he was still nervous about being in large cities, but Tony had eventually persuaded him. Now Bruce had a room to call his own, time to work on his experiments, and most importantly, a friend.

Bruce looked down the hallway, scratching his head. Where was Tony anyway? He stumbled back down the hallway looking for the lost man.

"Tony!" he called out.

"Asss flub hug mana" a voice from under the couch replied. Bruce near jumped out of his skin.

"Tony? Is that you?"

"Ahhhh, yup!"

"What are you..?" Bruce reached under the sofa and dragged out a very sloppy, very drunk, Tony out. "My God. How much have you had to drink tonight?"

"Twelve," Tony replied, stroking Bruce's face.

"Twelve? Twelve what? Beers? Shots?"

"I had….twelve alcohols toNIGHT!" Tony suddenly yelled. "YES!"

"Okay," Bruce mumbled, slinging an arm under Tony's, trying to keep the man upright. "Time for bed."

"No, I don't tink so," Tony slurred. "Sleeping is for the weak and the ugly." He lost his balance and stumbled back onto the couch. "I'm pretty. I don't sleep."

"Tony," Bruce sighed, exasperated. "It's time to sleep."

"WHY?"Tony yelled. "Do you think I'm *hic* ugly?!"

"No, I don't think you're ugly," Bruce said, as he dragged Tony off of the couch, onto the floor, and slowly towards Tony's bedroom.

"Do you think I'm pretty?"

"Ha!"

"Bruce, do you think I'm pretty?!" Tony cried. He sounded close to tears.

"Yes, Tony. I think you are very pretty," Bruce agreed with a chuckle. "But it's still time for bed."

"You're pretty too. You're very pretty. Your face reminds me of a kitty."

"Oh my God…"

"One of those fuzzy kitties. Fuck yeah."

"Dude."

"I want a kitty. Bruce, buy me a kitty!"

"In the morning."

"NO!" Tony yelled. "NOW!"

"Just calm down, man." Bruce had finally gotten Tony all the way to his bedroom, but he wasn't surprised when he was stopped by the security system. "Tony, what's the pass-code to get in?"

"Not tellin'," mumbled Tony, playing with a piece of string he found on the gound.

"Tony…"

"I'll tell you when you get me a kitty."

"Tony, I'm tired and I need to go to bed! So do you! Now quit screwing around and tell me what the pass-code is!"

"Twelve. As in, twelve alcohols."

"Jesus Christ."

"No, not Jesus. Jesus cannot help you here."

"You are a fucking mess."

"I know," Tony sniffed. "I know. I'm a disgusting drunk mess right now. I'm drunk and you hate me."

"No," Bruce sighed. "Don't you dare start drunk crying on me. Don't you dare! I don't hate you."

"Yes you do." Bruce sighed.

"JARVIS? Can you help me open this door?"

"It has been opened, sir. Best of luck to you."

"Thanks," Bruce mumbled as he pulled Tony into his room and onto his bed. "Alright man, you'll feel better in the morning. Goodnight."

"No, no, no!" Tony cried. "Stay with me."

"Tony, c'mon! I want to go to bed!"

"Sleep here," Tony mumbled, with his eyes already closing as he grabbed hold of Bruce's shirt. "Sleep." Bruce sighed.

"Ah, fuck it." He climbed into bed beside an ecstatic Tony, burying himself deep in the covers. "You are still a mess, dude."

But Tony was already asleep.

Ah, thank you all for reading! And as always, any and all feedback is most appreciated. Thank you!