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It starts with a talk.
Bruce isn’t exactly tired that afternoon, but he plops on the comfiest couch in their common space anyway, just because it’s surprisingly free of any muscular, sweaty, straight-back-from-action dude. It’s unusually quiet too. There are missions where the presence of a big green monster is not required—that’s how they phrase it, sometimes replacing it with “not necessary”, to spare his feelings from the punch of “not welcome”. Or maybe, just maybe, to spare themselves from a Hulk’s punch. Many times these are the same missions as those where a god’s presence is… not required. But Thor never seems to mind. His smile is as honest and his eyes as kind as ever when he arrives with a paper box of microwaved spaghetti.
“I’ll never get tired of this funny meal,” he thunders and then looks at him with a thoughtful expression. “You have not eaten yet. Should I get you some of this?”
“I’m good.” Bruce lifts his Coke. “Thanks”.
Thor hums and sits next to him, having absolutely no respect for a thing called personal space. With anyone else it would be discomforting, disturbing even. With him it’s only very distracting.
There’s just that thing about him that when Bruce gets near him all his hairs straighten up as if the man were a giant balloon.
It might have something to do with the fact that he’s a freaking God of Thunder.
“When I go back to Asgard, these are the things I’ll miss the most.” He throws the comment between one bite and another, so casually as if he was talking about a weekend trip to camp in the mountains, and Bruce supposes that is pretty much what it is to him, isn’t it? With Earth being the camping site, not Asgard, obviously. It is a sad thought for some reason.
Then Bruce thinks again about what he said, and it makes him wonder.
“What things exactly? Except the spaghetti, I mean.”
“All this.” Thor gestures around, as if he meant the entirety of Earth Experience™. “Not even the best of Asgardian royal chefs could design such an exquisite meal,” he says, and maybe it is all about spaghetti after all.
Personally, Bruce prefers lasagna. But before he can start analyzing what chemical substances make both meals so appealing, Thor points toward the screen taking up half of the wall (and mind you, the wall is not small either).
“And we don’t have TV.”
Bruce considers it for a few seconds.
“But you have a guy there who can see all the things happening in the entire Universe. Or not the entire Universe, but whatever you consider the entire Universe. The Nine Worlds. I mean, he can see a lot.”
“He can. I cannot.” Thor frowns. “I can only ask him what he sees. It’s like listening to Stark explaining the plot of Jurassic Park to Steve.”
Which Bruce was a witness to, and he wishes he wasn’t.
“That makes sense, I guess.” He rarely watches TV but suddenly feels oddly grateful for it.
Thor hums and for a long second looks thoughtfully at his spaghetti.
“These earthly things have given me surprisingly much joy,” he murmurs before shoving another fork of noodles into his mouth.
Bruce snorts. Because honestly, while being a huge terrifying god, he’s also quite adorable. Bruce is sure anyone would agree.
“As an Earth born being, I feel weirdly proud,” he says half-jokingly.
“As you should be,” Thor answers in all seriousness and looks him straight in the eye for a long moment. Bruce thinks he’ll never get used to these bright, honest blue eyes piercing him like a spear of epiphany (where did this come from?). “I hope I can enjoy many more experiences here before duty calls me back to my world.”
And he uses the phrase “my world”, not the word “home”, as he used to, and Bruce notices that for some reason.
“Are there any other earthly things that you’d like to try?” he asks, thinking about many things that he tried his best not to think of before.
“Ah!” Thor seems pleased with the question. “Yes, actually. I’ve been introduced to one possibility that makes me curious, and I might be willing to try it.”
“What is it?” Bruce asks, taking a sip of Coke.
“Gay sex.”
Bruce chokes.
Huge hand is immediately on his back, slapping strong but gently until he can breathe again.
“Vile stuff.” Thor frowns at the bottle of Coca Cola. “Makes your throat tingle. I’ll bring you beer.”
“Thanks,” Bruce stops him quickly. “I’m good. I’ll have a glass of water maybe.”
“I’ll get it,” Thor offers again and gets up to disappear into the kitchen.
Bruce sighs and leans back on the couch, words “gay sex” still ringing in his ears. He did not see the conversation going there. But now he is curious, his scientist brain trying to be the end of him again. He knows he shouldn’t ask, and he knows he will.
Thor comes back and gives him a glass of water with a friendly smile. Bruce thanks him and takes a sip. Thor sits down by his side. Bruce clears his throat.
“Is the gay sex not a thing in Asgard, then?”
“It is not.”
“Wow,” is the only thing Bruce can say to that, because really?
“That must surprise you. Stark said everyone does it here.”
Of course. Tony fucking Stark. Why is that always the explanation to situations like this?
“I think what he meant was that he does it. He has a tendency of projecting everything that applies to him onto everyone else. Maybe you’ve noticed.”
Thor frowns a little.
“Yes. Now that you say it, I do believe you’re right.” His frown deepens even more, not angry but rather thoughtful. “So it’s not as common as he says. But there are other people like him here. People who do it.”
“Yeah. Quite many, I believe. Not sure how much, maybe 5% of the population? Might be wrong here. But it’s gotta be a few percent.”
“That is quite a lot indeed.”
“Yeah. I suppose what he said—that everyone does it here—was figurative. Like when someone offers you coke on the party and goes, ‘Come on, everyone does it here’. Well. I don’t really mean having gay sex and doing drugs is in any way similar. That wasn’t really a good… Maybe donuts!” Thor seems both confused and focused, as if trying to grasp a difficult concept, so Bruce goes back to explaining quickly. “Donuts are a good example. Not really healthy but if you make them your everyday lunch or breakfast, or dinner, you can easily say, ‘Hey, everyone does it here’.”
“Ah,” Thor nods. “So this gay sex. Is it a sort of what you call a ‘guilty pleasure’?”
People have always told Bruce that he’s a great scientist but terrible at explaining things. Couldn’t be a teacher.
“I… wouldn’t say that? Although I’m sure it can be pleasant, and I know some people feel guilty about doing it, even though—” Thor seems so lost that Bruce stops mid sentence. “You know what? Let’s not get into that.”
But Thor does get into that.
“I think Steve feels a bit guilty about it. Stark has told me that he does it with his old friend. But he seems uneasy and conflicted.”
“I… suppose you might be right about that. I can’t really tell what’s going on between them.”
“But Clint doesn’t seem conflicted nor feeling guilty. He seems happy.”
“Clint?”
“Yes. I didn’t know about gay sex and relationships before, so I didn’t realize. But now it seems rather obvious to me that he and Coulson are together. I assume they do it too. Clint does often seem relaxed after seeing him.”
So. Thor might not know a whole lot about those earthly things, but he is pretty observant. And unintentionally gossipy.
He goes on.
“There are many such relationships around here. Seems more than a few percent. I wonder why that is.”
And Bruce now wonders too. Is this a superhero thing?
“Someone should do research on that,” he murmurs to himself and considers if he could be that someone. Not his usual field, but it is a rather curious phenomenon.
“Makes me feel like yet again I am the only person around here that doesn’t know about something. Lacks experience.” Thor’s voice brings him back to the course of the talk.
Bruce gasps.
“Thor, you’re like an eternity old, have fought battles before our civilization was born, and you’ve traveled through space. I bet you’ve experienced a whole lot of things that none of us have.”
He smiles at that, eyes crinkling.
“But not that.”
“Well. You’re not the only one here. I’ve never done it either.”
“Oh.” His smile is wide, kind, and bright like the sun. “Would you like to?”
“I’ve… never really thought of that?” Bruce answers, blushing. “I’m… not really that much of a sexual person anyway. So, you know.” He has no idea how they got to discussing his sexual life, but he’d rather not go any further.
Thor hums, thoughtful again, and Bruce doesn’t want to know what the god can be considering right now.
“You mean you don’t really enjoy sex. There are people like that in Asgard as well. Meant for battle, not for love. For brotherhood, not for marriage.”
Bruce snorts, because honestly, Thor’s asking for it.
“I bet Tony would have something to say about that,” he comments, amused.
“Like what?”
Bruce should have known he’d have to explain again. He really should learn when to shut up.
“Well, just what you said about brotherhood and not marriage?” he tries. “I mean, if being gay and having two men romantic or sexual relationships is not recognized as a possibility in Asgard, then I believe what you call brotherhood is what is left for poor queer dudes.”
Bruce isn’t sure how well Thor has been familiarized with terms such as gay and queer, but he seems to grasp the idea implied. It makes his face twist in a funny way as he no doubt remembers some stuff that he witnessed and has now a brand new explanation for. He seems okay with it, though. Which means, maybe soon the Rainbow Bridge won’t be the only rainbow thing allowed in Asgard. Bruce gets lost in funny thoughts and is not ready for the question when it comes.
“I understand what you say. You think some of my people would perhaps enjoy sex if they could have it with the same gender. Have you thought that might be the case with you as well? That it could be enjoyable if you tried it with a man?”
Bruce stares. Mouth maybe a bit open. And Thor looks at him with those deep, blue eyes, honest, unashamed, curious, and thoughtful.
“I… don’t know,” he manages finally, his eyes looking away, but then being drawn back as if by magnetic force.
“Would you try?” It doesn’t sound like a question born out of sheer curiosity anymore. More like an offer, and the kind that you’re not supposed to turn down.
Thor slowly leans closer, his eyes darkening.
“With me?” he adds in a low voice.
Oh. My. God. Gods. Transcendental beings, whatever.
Have they just been flirting for the last quarter of an hour without Bruce having a clue?
Apparently.
“I don’t—” He needs to clear his throat, because his voice is failing him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I think it is.”
That’s such a godly thing to say, Bruce thinks. But when he places his hand in front of him, stopping the overly eager body, Thor does ask after all:
“Why do you think it isn’t?”
And he has many answers to that, but for some reason he goes with…
“Because neither of us has any clue how this works?”
…this one. And that only makes Thor reach with his huge hand towards his thigh and squeeze it reassuringly.
“You need not worry, my friend. Stark has given me a good idea of how this works.”
Of fucking course he has. Bruce has a feeling he was also the one who suggested to the insanely gorgeous long-blond-hair-flowing-in-the-wind God of Thunder to go for an awkward scientist from the corniest corner of America—because he has brilliant ideas like that. And Bruce has no other explanation for why Thor would want to do it with him of all people.
Or maybe it has something to do with the fact that every other person around here seems to be busy fucking someone else already.
Anyway.
“I can’t do that,” he says, suddenly much more aware of their positions and circumstances. “I don’t do things like that.”
“That’s exactly the reason to try.”
“It’s not enough of a reason for me,” Bruce explains, and for once he has a clear idea of what he needs to say. “I don’t take people to bed just for fun. I don’t try things like that just for the sake of trying them. I don’t do casual.” And the mirth and boldness suddenly disappearing from the blue eyes in front of him make him add, “Sorry.”
He stands up.
“Do tell me how it went though,” he says, not sure himself why, before he scurries away.
When he gets into his bed, he still feels the sensation of strong fingers digging into the flesh of his thigh.
♥━━🗲━━♥
It doesn’t get weird after that. It gets more normal if anything. Because Thor stops invading his personal space at every opportunity, and he no longer seeks his company when they’re alone. He stops reminding him of his meals, offering food and drinks. He doesn’t ask him random stuff about science, which he used to do quite often, Bruce now realizes, letting him rant for extended periods of time whenever staying in his own head was no longer comfortable.
Bruce has never given it much thought, but now he does. Now he draws startling conclusions. Now he questions his own cognitive functions, because how he could have stayed oblivious to all that is beyond his understanding.
Bruce is realizing many things now, not only about the behavior of the god, but also about himself, and while the latter is less surprising—he’s had many years to learn about his weaknesses after all—it is at the same time more worrying.
The thing is, Thor doesn’t make it easier for him.
He walks around the compound brooding, or stays in his room for most of the day, and if the weather outside the window is anything to go by, he is currently not in his best mood nor condition. After a week of choking on heavy, humid air, having to change his shirt every time he goes out, and listening to rumbling of the leaden heavens for the majority of days and nights, Bruce has had enough.
No, that’s not right. Bruce can bear much more; it’s Hulk that cannot. It’s Hulk that has had enough, and it’s Hulk who’s gonna do something about it. Bruce should have known as much.
It takes one stormy night, one lightning that is a bit too bright, one thunder that is a bit too loud, one awakening that is a bit too sudden to learn just how much Hulk has had enough of that shit.
Bruce doesn’t learn about the smashed window, broken countertop, Tony’s midnight snack trampled into the cracked floor countless times, as well as many other things until the next day. What he knows when he’s back to his tiny awkward self is that he somehow ended up in Thor’s quarters and is currently pressing him against the wall, and not in a I’m-about-to-fuck-you way, but more in a I’m-about-to-kill-you way. Unless Hulk has other way of doing stuff. Which he does.
As soon as Bruce realizes it, he lets go of course, because he’s a nerdy scientist with not enough muscle to even manage a decent count of push-ups, and definitely not enough to hold a three hundred lbs god up in the air.
Thor lands on the floor with a dull thud.
“Um.” Bruce considers jumping out of the window but decides it could potentially bring more big-sized green trouble. “Sorry.”
Thor looks out of his element, which is unusual, if understandable. He’s just standing there, slightly hunched, as if still regaining posture after what has just happened, and doesn’t quite meet his eyes.
“Did he… say anything?” Bruce tries, because although Hulk is not much of a talker, he can be pretty blunt when he does decide to use the semblance of human speech.
“No.” Thor’s voice is raspy, so he clears his throat. “Didn’t seem willing to talk.”
“Ah.” Bruce really doesn’t know how to handle this… whatever this is. “Well, you know him.”
“I do.” Thor still sounds a bit unsure, but at the same time weirdly intent.
They stare at each other for a long moment, saying nothing. Then—
“Bruce…”
“I’m really sorry…”
They speak at once and stop at once—and Thor hesitates, so Bruce takes over and continues. “Not only for this, but for my reaction that day… I—”
“No,” Thor cuts him off, frowning. “I offended you. It is me who should apologize.”
“What? No.” Bruce is bemused. “You did not offend me. Surprised me, sure, but I wasn’t offended.”
“You are a respectable person, and I should have treated you like one,” Thor explains grimly. “You deserve all the love, care, and attentions that should go with a proposal like that. You were right to deny me, as hurtful as it was.”
Hurtful?
Bruce grins sheepishly. “Naah. I’m not a fan of big gestures either. I’m just…” he rubs his nape with his hand "…not suit for romance, I guess."
Thor looks… sad. There’s no other way to describe it. His gaze grows soft, his lips curve worriedly, and his giant hand lands on Bruce’s arm.
“Could you perhaps allow me to prove you wrong?” he asks quietly.
Bruce isn’t sure how they got here. “Um,” is all he manages.
“Please?” Thor’s gaze is open and deep, and with amount of space between them it’s so easy to get lost in these pools of ocean blue.
Bruce is speechless. This is actually happening. This isn’t one of his lucid dreams that he occasionally allows himself, but the reality—as abstract and hard to believe as it is. Thor is here, asking him for a chance to date him, apparently? And he’s only wearing a T-shirt over his boxers, and it’s not like it’s the first time Bruce sees him like this, but it is the first time he sees him like this while being in his bedroom, standing very close, with the weather outside being not the only thing that could be described as charged.
“Yeah…?” he says, because his life is so weird already that one more variable won’t really impact the result so much.
Thor’s eyes glow. Maybe even literally. He closes Bruce’s hands in his and brings them up to his mouth to kiss them.
“Thank you,” he whispers, and the whisper—and the kiss—and the rain outside, which makes them feel like they’re the only two persons in their little fairytale world, are almost too much. “Perhaps we could go out tomorrow? For a date?”
Bruce supposes Thor doesn’t mind the rain and thunder—it’s likely he can stop them anytime anyway—but he’s had some other plans for tomorrow, scientific in nature, and is also not particularly sleepy at this very moment. And he cannot be one hundred percent sure this isn’t a dream after all. And… he could find many other reasons for why he doesn’t go with Thor’s suggestion.
“Actually, I think I’d rather…” The words fail him. Oh, well. Fuck it.
He climbs on his toes and presses his lips against Thor’s.
He earns a startled gasp with that, but that only makes him feel unusually brave. He reaches to entangle his fingers in blond locks and tugs, because honestly, does this man really need to be so tall? The giant hand is on his back almost immediately, and Thor presses him closer while their mouths explore each other—first tentatively, then with growing certainty. If the way his body reacts to that is anything to go by, Thor might have been right about some things.
The man’s other hand lands on the back of his head, gentle yet firm, and even if he wanted to move away, he wouldn’t be able to. He doesn’t, so it’s fine. More than fine, actually.
“Mn!”
He wishes he kept that one in, but the way Thor’s tongue slips into his mouth is… yeah. Anyway, his godly kisser nearly growls at that, so he supposes it’s okay. Thor’s hand slides down from where it rested on his back. A lightning strikes somewhere very close, and the thunder follows immediately, a crackle and a rumble rolling over the sleepless city. Thor bites him. His fingers clench involuntarily in silky hair, and the world tilts.
A moment later he’s on the bed with a giant silhouette looming over him. He’s grateful for how Thor keeps his weight on his elbows, because he’s quite sure if he didn’t, he’d be turned into a marmalade. He also doesn’t mind the way Thor’s lower body presses gently against him with unambiguous intent. He doesn’t mind at all.
When Thor’s tongue licks into his mouth again, the building is shaken by another thunderous rumble. Bruce curses under his breath. He wanted to stop this weather—not to make the whole city suffer because of his sexual awakening.
“Um…” he breathes into Thor’s mouth. “Could you maybe… tune it down a bit?” he whispers, looking sideways to the watery cityscape behind the window.
“No,” Thor answers, and Bruce is satisfied. He tried for the sake of humanity. And cats, and dogs, and birds. No one can blame him. Who is he to try and change the nature of gods, anyway?
Thor’s hand slides down his body again, tracing the line of his side. Moves under his shirt. Bruce is so grateful in this moment for Stark-produced Hulk-proof clothing. That whole scene would have been extremely awkward if he was naked to start with.
“Let’s get you out of this.”
…And he wouldn’t be able to hear that.
Thor takes off his own shirt first however, as if to make him less tense. He half-succeds, because Bruce is faced with the unsettling disparity of their build.
Thor is blinding. Shaped like a Greek god. A Norse god? Anyway, it makes sense.
“No need to be nervous,” he soothes in a low murmur of seductive growl before taking his shirt off. His both hands move upwards, tracing lines of Bruce’s torso. At least nowadays there are some lines to be traced. “Beautiful,” he purrs, and Bruce feels exactly like how he imagined he would feel being close to the right person. Safe. Appreciated. Loved.
When their bodies touch, it’s like a glimpse of heaven. Or hell. Either of the two. He should have gone to that dinner or amusement park or whatever and gotten to know that blue-eyed angel before diving into this.
Their mouths no longer try and taste, but fight and conquer. Bruce no longer cares where his hands are, because he’s set on getting to know every last bit of this man tonight. Blond locks tickle his skin, strands of silky hair draped around his face. He loves this feeling.
Then, somewhere between desperate kisses, raspy sighs and frantic movements, Thor stops to look into his eyes.
“You make me so happy,” he says. His hand cradles his cheek, and the rough thumb traces his features.
“Yeah,” Bruce manages. Words are long beyond his reach at this point.
Thor chuckles and leans down.
“Now,” he breathes into Bruce’s neck. “Let’s explore this thing we’re both so curious about.”
♥━━🗲━━♥
“You deserved it,” Thor deadpans the next morning after shielding Bruce from the half-hearted list of complaints from Tony Stark, whose property again is in dire need of repairs.
“Oh, right.” Tony fakes sympathetic tone. “My fault. Your discontentment was loud and clear last night. We all heard how dissatisfied you were with my suggestion. I am so very sorry.”
“I forgive you,” Thor says graciously and drags Bruce away towards the elevator so they can go on their first brunch date.
Bruce half sighs, half laughs when they’re a safe distance away.
“He’ll never change.”
“You never know.” Thor looks thoughtfully at the floors passing behind the glass walls. “Perhaps one day he too shall find true love.”
Bruce looks at him in surprise and is about to say something, when Thor adds, “But we should curse him. Just in case.”
“What?”
Thor smirks at him. “My mother taught me how to do it. My brother was the more diligent student of those matters, but I’ve learned my share. I can curse him so that he finds his true love.”
“Are you… sure about that?” Bruce asks slowly.
Thor shrugs. “Sure, why not.”
Then he kisses him, and they step together outside to walk in the glowing pool of midday sunlight.